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Posted by on in Execution

Heart of the lover


Disclaimer:The following story is a work of fiction, and meant for one’s imagination only. The Author is strictly opposed to any acts of violence. Continue to read only if you can differentiate between fantasy and real acts and intend to read this story for imagination purposes only.

I should have known then. I’ve known it to beat a lot more calmly, much more ‘at peace’, but it was beating a lot faster than I had known it to. Maybe it was our upcoming marriage in less than a week, I thought, too tired otherwise as my mind tried to keep my fears aside and just let me sleep, as I rest my face on her bare breast and let my face and thoughts sink into her bosom as I slept off. The long day at the office followed by some steamy love making as we met after almost a month, had taken it’s toll on me.I was in charge of civil law and order under the newly (yet again) re elected regime of the ‘President’, who once was our Chief of Army. And she is my fiancée. Sheila. At the age of 32 and in the prime of her beauty, stood at about 175 cm tall, with black hair that came down to her hips, and a slightly tanned skin. Her deep, dark brown eyes had always somehow managed to conceal more than they ever said. I had fallen in love with them, with her. Oh and yes, a pair of full, perfectly rounded firm pair of breasts measuring 35C - and I had measured them many a times, topped with slightly brownish nipples only made her even more irresistible. Confidant, sexy and smart journalist with the national daily, she was not only in the prime of her beauty, but also the prime of her career.Maybe I was too tired, or as I now feel, paid too less attention as I lost myself to rest with my face buried in her chest, to realize that it was not just the steamy love making or the anticipation of our upcoming marriage that was making her heart thud in her chest like that. It was much more serious. Much more damning. It was the anticipation of the impending doom. I realize that now.

I’d watched her this early morning as she got ready, getting into her white thong panties, followed by her white front closing bra, made of sheer fabric. She then stepped into her grey business skirt that hugged her shapely ass well, followed by her collared three-fourth sleeve white button up blouse, again which was tailored perfectly for her, hugging her in all the right places. She then put on her grey business jacket, did her hair in a casual half bun, applied her black eye liner to highlight her eyes the way she did to hide so many things in them. She put on her black heels and placing a kiss on my face left for the job. Have an early meeting she had said.She was wearing the same cloths as she sat in the witness box in the Special Fast Track Court at the Department of Corrections. I could still hardly believe it. Her heart was telling it to me yesterday. I did not realize, and now here she was, in the very building I work at, not as a visitor, but brought in as an accused to stand trial on the charges of Sedition none the less. The revised norms meant that the trial was to be conducted immediately, and the judgment passed on the spot. I’d only witnessed countless of such trials myself, and knew exactly where they ended. At the place where they ended, me and Sheila had many a time been witnesses. My heart just sank at the thought that today, in all probabilities, was going to be different.“Miss Sheila Adams, of age 32 years, Senior Editor at the National Reporter, you have been charged of Sedition, owing to the three articles leaked onto the internet which are in your name. How do you plead on the charges?”She was looking at me, and me at her. Her eyes, though moist now, barely hid anything today. And this was hitting me hard. “Guilty, your honor” she said. Her eyes moist but remorseless still, I blinked, taken aback. There was not much left now. My love, my fiancée, had confessed to be guilty of a capital crime. All that remained now was just a state sponsored well drilled procedure to be performed, to kill her, deemed unworthy of living.The judge signed a few documents, as I continued to stare into her remorseless eyes. Not noticing the two guards that had come stood behind her, as the judge speaking broke my thoughts and stare. “Going by the trial, evidence, and the confession provided by the accused, this court deems Miss Shiela Adams, 32 years of age, GUILTY on the charge of sedition, and as per the section 324 clause A of the law, sentences her to DEATH by Shooting. Citing no further cause of action and the right to appeal being denied on the grounds of her being convicted of sedition, this court sees no reason to delay her execution and orders that she be taken to the premise courtyard immediately, where she shall SERVE her sentence and be put to Death.” Saying that, he hits the hammer and gets up and leaves.Shiela gets up, still looking at me, as I remain seated. The guards pull her arms behind her back and cuff them, as they hold her by her arms and escort her out of the courtroom. I simply watch her, still seated myself, in shock, when I am reminded of my duties by my sub ordinate. I am the highest ranking law officer in the building, and as per the rules laid down a few years ago, that makes me the Chief Executioner in the event of any executions taking place inside the premises.I gather myself, blocking my emotions as I am trained to, realizing that there is nothing that I can do after she has literally signed off her own death warrant by confessing, and get up and go to the service rooms to gather 6 men for the squad. I order the first man I see to get 6 men dressed in uniforms and get to the courtyard, as I pace there myself, alongwith my assistant.She is already brought there, standing by the raised platform with the chair bolted on top of it. It is a courtyard with large tiles and stone walls from all four sides, no roof. About 25x25 meters, as we enter, to the left are three rows of benches on which the witnesses have started to gather. The chair itself is a wooden chair, with a straight, slightly taller and lean backrest, which is made of a metal frame and a wooden thin slab, with new wooden slabs being put for every execution. There are no armrests, and there are metal cuffs behind the backrest and at the front legs of the chair, which is on a raised platform of about 3 feet. There are sand bags stacked behind the chair.

With the high ranking officials yet to come, I just walk to her and give her a tight, full hug. Not in a position to afford a long one, I let go, and closing my eyes kiss her on the lips just once. I take two steps back and then speak “Escort the convict to the chair for her execution”, as the high ranking officials now start coming in for being the witnesses to her execution.Soon, the three rows are filled, with the chief justice, the magistrate who sentenced her, the editor in chief of her newspaper, the law minister, and the regular reporter to cover state executions, from her own daily, being seated in the front row. The squad of six men dressed in their uniforms and armed with the regular .22 caliber rifles also marches in and stands at ease in a single line in front of her, about 20 feet away.I await the signal of the chief justice, as I tell the guards “Uncuff the convict, and ready her for the execution”. They follow my orders and uncuff her. And request her to take her jacket off, which she does, she is not looking straight at me now. That would have been unbearably difficult if she did now. Her skirt is next to come off, “Secure the convict to the chair” I say.

They seat her onto the chair, placing their hand on her shoulders, with her back straight against the backrest. She dressed only in the button up blouse, the bra beneath, her panties, and her sandles now, as her hands are pulled behind the backrest and cuffed into the metal cuffs, with her left wrist being cuffed to the cuff on the right of the chair, making her hand bend at the elbow, and her right wrist into the cuff on the left, in the same manner. It secures her tightly to the chair, straightens her back fully. And thrusts her chest out a bit. Next, her legs are pulled slightly apart, and secured to the cuffs at the bottom of the front legs of the chair giving everyone a full view of her inner thighs and her panties covering her sex.I check my watch, it is 6PM and the sun is now starting to set. The guards who secured her check if she is rightly secured, and being content clear the area, as I walk to her, and bending down slightly say to her “I have to do this, as you know is the procedure” I reach to the top button of her blouse, and she thrusts her chest a bit forward as if helping me do it, as I unbutton her blouse one button at a time, my hand rubbing against her heaving chest as I do so, until I finally undo all the buttons of her blouse I watched her get into this morning, and gently slide it down her arms until its at her elbow level and behind the backrest of the chair. Next, I push some of her hair that have come in front over her chest behind her, before I place my hand on the center of her chest, and unclasp her brand pull the cups apart to expose her full, firm breasts topped with those perfect slightly brownish nipples which are about an inch in diameter, and hard. I push the straps of the bra over her arms and let the bra hang onto her hands besides her blouse behind the backrest, her bosom exposed and ready to receive the punishment of her crime. I am still staring at her heaving breasts, and just manage to take a single gaze at those deep eyes staring remorseless at me, there is still love in them for me, but no remorse. I can only love her more now. I shall have to do that after she is gone, though. For now, I need to carry out my duty as the chief executioner, and put the woman I love to death.I stand besides her, having exposed her to the witnesses and the squad, and speak up. “We have gathered here to witness the Execution of Miss Sheila Adams, 32 years of age, who has been convicted of sedition and sentenced to death by shooting. She is to serve her sentence immediately, and be put to death. Before the execution proceeds and the sentence is carried out, as per the law prescribed, I ask the convict to say any last words she may have to say, or, as per the section 342 sub section C, make any last requests she may have.”She looks at the benches, and then straight ahead, and says “I have a last request…” she takes in a deep breath “… I want them to do it, them sitting on the front bench, to carry out my sentence, and put me to death.”

There is silence in the courtyard, as under the prescribed law, there is nothing that stops her from having her demand fulfilled. All of them are men in their late fifties. As they all look at the chief justice, who gets up, followed by others as they walk to the squad, and take hold of the rifles, one by one. Each are firm on their grip, each having their eyes fixed on her. My heart is raging in my chest, but I have to somehow control it, as I decide to get on with the procedure and ask her if she needs a blindfold. She just shakes her head, looking straight at them, saying no. “Very well” I say as I walk down from the platform, and to the newly assembled squad of magistrates, editors and reporters, alongwith the solitary youngest member of the original squad. It is my duty to ensure a clean execution, as I decide it to be best to reduce the distance between her and the make shift squad who are to shoot her to less than 10 feet.

Standing by them, making sure they are in a single line, I speak up “By the powers vested in me by the state, I order that the death sentence awarded to Miss Sheila Adams be now carried out.”There is a moment’s silence, as she tenses up in the chair. As I start giving the orders.“SQUAD!!” READY!!”
The orders do not follow the regular clatter of the shoes hitting the floor this time, as the power rich elite simply straighten up, except for the youngest member of the original squad, who comes to attention“SQUAD!! AIM!!”

I say, as I walk behind each of them, starting with the chief magistrate, as I adjust each of their rifles to aim at my lover’s thrust out bare breasts, which she pushes forward to help me aim. I adjust the two media men’s aims onto her right breast, just inside the nipple and on the inner curve, while all others I position to aim at her left breast. The barrels of the rifles now pointing at her bare breasts like fingers pointing at a guilty person, as if pointing out “her”. Satisfied of the aims, I take my position to their right, and give the dreaded order, to send hot balls of lead drilling into my lover’s tender breasts.“FIRE!!”I shout

The slight report of the .22s firing not being nearly simultaneous this time. *Phutt**Thipp*…

The sounds are so apart in their timing, that we hear the sound of the bullets hitting her in middle of the sound of the shots, as my heart is beating so fast, that time seems to slow down and I see her thrust out breasts take each hit. With the first bullet hitting her just on the outer-lower part of her left areola, the second bullet hitting her on the inner part of her left nipple, the third drilling into her breast just about a cm below her nipple, and the fourth one hitting her about 2 inches above her left nipple, as her breasts wobble on receiving the bullets and small geysers of blood shoot out from the newly drilled neat holes in them. Her right breast takes two bullets precisely where I had aimed. The inner part of her right nipple and the inner curve f her breast.She had thrust out her ample breasts and closed her eyes, her head slightly lifted,  when the bullets hit her. “Hghh… Ackkkk…. HghhhHghhh… Ackkk… Hhhhh…” she reacts to each shot as she takes the bullets into her full breasts, as they effortlessly chew past her tender breast flesh, some bury themselves into her lungs, others in her ribs. As she looks down over her heaving breasts, thin streams of blood flowing down from the newly gained holes in them, as she tries to draw in deep breaths with her punctured lung, as she looks up at her shooters, who are still pointing the accusing fingers at her breasts in the form of the barrels of the rifles that are spewing burning tiny balls of lead into defenseless bosom.“AIM!!!” I shout again, this time not bothering to adjust their aims. As she looks up, slightly raises her head, and closes her eyes again, ready to receive more burning lead balls into her, again trusting forward her breasts to her punishers. This time struggling a bit, as I give the order again.“FIRE!!!”
*Phutt**Thipp**Phutt**Thipp*…..*Phutt**Thipp*I continue to watch as they continue to pump bullets into my lover’s bosom. As both her breasts wobble once again, catching more bullets.Her left breast gets hit twice, once just about grazing the upper edge of the areola, and once about 2 cm outwards of her nipple. Almost on the outer curve of her breast. Her right breast gets two more bullets, one through the center of the nipple, and one about an inch below the nipple. The remaining two bullets hit her below her navel, an inch and about half a cm below the lower edge of her navel.“HuhhhAckk… Huhh… Huhhhh” her moans die down, as she arches her back, feeling the bullets burn inside her as the pain is starting to register. A trickle of blood now visible in the corner of her mouth. She looks down at her bullet riddled breasts, the neat holes studded in them like medals she has earned for her deeds. Neat stream of blood flowing through them as I walk to her, my 8 inch slender steel knife ready in my hand.She is slightly bending forward, only being held upright by the bonds, I can see her bosom still slightly heaving. Her heart was not hit my the make shift squad. As I place the tip of the knife on the inner curve of her left breast, about 2 cm from the edge of her left breast where the curve starts, as I feel her weight onto the knife, and her heaving. My emotions are stonewalled by now having orchestrated the act of riddling my lover’s tender bosom with bullets. I push the knife once, twice, and three times to bury it to the hilt into her chest.She opens her mouth in pain, eyes wide open too as she sees with blurred vision my hand holding the handle of the knife sticking out of her chest, and pushing harder still as I feel her chest heave once, twice around the knife and onto the edge of my hand, as she looks down on it, and with her mouth wide agape, a few drops of blood dropping onto the knife and my hand, as her entire weight rests onto the knife now as I push behind, and her chest heaves no more.I place my left hand onto her chest and push her onto the chair, straightning her up, and pressing my left hand into her chest, yank the knife out of her with my right. With heart tissue, blood and breast flesh being yanked out and onto my face and uniform. Its only now that I realize the immense erection that I’ve had all along in my pants, witnessing my lover get riddled with bullets and having her chest torn.

I stand there, in front of her, looking at her now closed eyes, and torn chest, as my assistant walk to me with her file. The blood still dripping from the knife, I hand it to him, as I take the file, and the pen, and fill the time of death onto her death certificate as 6:13PM. He has filled in all her other details, and taking the file, hands me the knife again and the small plastic bag, to finish the job and add the last detail to her file, the physical evidence.

I carefully place my left hand over her right breast, around her nipple, and using the tip of the knife, I insert it into her breast at the edge of her nipple and start cutting it off, until it is sliced off her breast, with the bullet holes in it as a physical evidence of her death. It shall remain in her file in the department of corrections for ever.I hand it over to him and stand there, in front of her, as everyone starts leaving one by one, leaving me standing in front of her, staring at her bullet riddled body. I know not for how long she had planned itlike this, for how long she wanted her end to be here. Maybe it was one of the times she was a witness that prompted her something. But the fact is, that her heart, the heart of my lover, had done just what her eyes had always done to me. Conceal her deepest thoughts, when I had my  face buried into her breast yesterday. Now she had what she had wanted, and it was Death now, it’s ugly face buried into her tender bosom today. It shall sleep with her forever, in her unmarked grave, it’s head buried into her ample breasts forever in the form of those bullets. All I can do is watch as they take her off. Being nothing more than deat flesh and bones, as she falls limply into their arms as they undo her cuffs, and unceremoniously take her off to the graveyard behind the premise.

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