THE PRICE OF LOVE Looking through the one way glass, your heart catches in your throat. She stands in the center of the next room, just a few feet away. Her deep wine dress has already been removed, leaving her in a matching strapless bra, panties and heels. The image is absolutely breathtaking. She stands with her head down, trembling slightly as the guard finishes tying her hands behind her back with a length of heavy nylon rope. You can see from the flush in her cheeks that she is crying. The warden touches your elbow, breaking your emotional connection to her. "Are you sure you want to do this?", he asks. Looking at her again, you nod stiffly. "Yes. I want to spend every moment I can with her. Right up to the end." "well", replies the warden, "It's up to you. Frankly, I don't think I could do it if I was in your place." Your eyes turn back to the small, beautifully proportioned woman you have come to love. She is dwarfed by the big, burly guard who is tying her. He finishes knoting the rope and tugs sharply on it to test his work. Satisfied, he walks to the door of the stark white cinderblock room and knocks. The door opens and he walks out without turning, leaving her alone. "You can go to her now.", the warden says. You leave the observation room, enter the hallway and walk to the door of the adjoining cell. You present your authorization papers to the guard, and he unlocks the door, holding it open for you. From the corner of your eye, you notice another door open at the far end of the hall and hesitate. Looking in that direction, you see another uniformed guard raise his hand in a "thumbs up" signal. The warden nods curtly in response and whispers "You don't have much time.... Make the most of it". As you walk into the cell, your eyes are drawn first to the mirrored wall which you know conceals the observation room. Then, almost immediately, your focus snaps back to her. Her body is magnificent, the dark wine color of her langerie and heels accentuating every curve. Her face is no less lovely because of its puffiness from crying. At the sound of the cell door opening, she raises her head and now looks directly at you with wide tear filled eyes. "Khym!" she cried, "Thank God; I thought I would never see you again!". You rush to her, holding her tightly to you. You swim in the sensations of her, the softness of her skin, the erotic pressure of her sensual body, the scent of the perfume you were allowed to give to her, the dampness of her tears against your chest. You kiss hungrily, caressing her hair as her lips press to yours and her tongue fills your mouth in a desperate hunger that tears at your emotional resolve. "I'm going to do this!", you promise yourself. "I WILL be there for her." Her body presses into you, rubbing sensuously against your growing erection. Her movements are awkward as she strains at the rope binding her hands. She wants to hold you so badly, but cannot. You try to compensate by holding her even tighter. Even in heels, she must tilt her head upward to reach your lips. Your hand caresses her neck and your mind automatically flashes on what is about to happen. As her hips undulate, your hand involuntarily begins to slide down her back, running first over, and then inside her panties. She presses harder against you. Finally, she breaks your kiss and looks deep into your eyes. "How did you arrange this?", she asks. "I was told that once I was moved to the holding cell, only people connected with the......... the "process" would be allowed in." Your heart aches at her struggle with the words. Even now, with so little time left, she cannot bring herself to use the word "execution". "That's right", you reply seriously. "I had to make special arrangements with the warden, and even then he had to get approval from the Governor." "But, how did you do it? They are pretty strict about these things." You take a deep breath, and exhale. This is the first trial, the first of what you are sure will be a day of tests to your resolve, and your love. Looking into her eyes, gathering as much strength as you can muster, you tell her. "I love you. I couldn't stand the idea of not seeing you again, or of knowing what was going to happen to you, or that you would have to go through it alone. "I felt that, if I was with you, it would somehow be easier for you; if, at the end, mine was the last face you saw." "That's so sweet of you.... and it's true, of course.", she responded. "But I still don't understand how you got permission. This state is not exactly known for it's compassion." You grit your teeth, and take another breath, holding it for a moment. You take her face in your hands and kiss her lightly, first her eyes, then her neck, then her lips. You look sadly into her eyes once more. "I had to agree to do it.", you say. "Do what?", she asks in confusion. "I had to take the job as executioner. I'm the one who is going to hang you." She just stares at you, her mouth open, her eyes wide. With the worst of the truth now out in the open, you quickly rush onward. "I couldn't stand the idea of you being manhandled by a bunch of impersonal, and perhaps sadistic, strangers. I thought that, if it was me, I could try to make it easier, somehow." She begins to cry again, and moves close to you once more. You hold her and feel the shuddering sobs rack her body. After a time, she pulls away and looks at you once more. "You have no idea what this means to me", she says. "I wanted so much to be with you. But I can't let you do this. There is no easy way for me, and it would be far too painful for you." "Don't worry about me", you reply. "I want to do it for you. I want to be there, right up to the end. If that means I have to be the one who kills you, I will." You hold her once more, and she presses into you with a desperate intensity. Once again you can feel her arms straining at the rope, wanting so much to touch you. You kiss passionately, clinging to every sensation for as long as you can. Unconciously, your fingers trace the lines of her neck once more. Both of your breathing becomes ragged as your hands move over her body. She breaks your kiss and whispers "Make love to me, please!" This is the worst.... sadly, you shake your head. "That mirror is one way glass. They're watching everything that happens in this room. I can't make love to you. It's not allowed. They were very specific about that. The warden told me that he would give us as much latitude in the regulations as possible, but that I could not penetrate you." She nods, then seems to brighten a bit at another idea. "Well", she says, "He didn't put any other limitations on us, did he?" "No", you reply. "What do you have in mind?" Clumsily, she begins to slide downward, using your body as a brace. Realizing what she is doing, you hold her shoulders and help her onto her knees. "Please let me do this for you", she pleads. Looking self conciously at the mirror, you undo your pants and push them downward, releasing your raging erection. She quickly moves to it and takes it hungrily into her mouth. She had always been a great cock sucker, but this time, in the sesperation of the moment, knowing that it will be the last time she can be with you, she really outdoes herself. She sucks hungrily on you, taking you as far into her mouth as she can. Moving her head back and forth, with no hands to help her, she works you with her lips and tongue, swirling around the head of your cock with each outward stroke, then sucking you deeply in until you almost touch the back of her throat. Between the emotional stress and the adrenalin pumping through your body, it doesn't take long. Holding her head in your hands, you throw your own back in a loud moan of exstacy as you cum, shooting hot semen deep into her mouth. Her tongue continues to dance over you as she swallows spurt after spurt. Finally, after an eternity of pleasure, your orgasm subsides and your mind returns to reality. You lift her back up to her feet, and quickly rearrange your clothes. Seeing only the love in her face now, you realize how she needed even this limited diversion. You kiss her, feeling a drop of your own semen transfer from her lips to yours. Almost immediately, you hear the keys in the lock, and the door swings open. Standing in the doorway is the warden, who looks at you and nods slightly. You look back at her, and softly say "It's time". Once again, tears begin to flow as she tries to smile for you. Taking her arm, you lead her out of the cell and down the hall. You follow the warden with two guards trailing behind. He leads you toward the room where you had seen the other guard signal earlier. Pausing briefly, you take another deep breath and escort your lover into the gallows chamber. Inside the door is a large room, much bigger than you had anticipated. It is well lit, and there are two rows of chairs against one wall. Each of these chairs, 24 in all, is occupied by someone who, either because of a sense of civic duty or morbid curiosity, was granted a request to witness the execution. At the center of the room is a platform about five feet high, with steps running up the right side. Over the platform, a hangman's noose swings slightly. She takes all of this in slowly, focusing finally on the noose. You hear her breath catch and she pulls back slightly against your grasp. Your fingers press thightly against the flesh of her arm, holding her where she stands. "I'm sorry", you whisper, "From her on I have to follow procedures exactly." In a wavering voice, she answers "I understand. Thank you for being with me." Still holding her arm, you move her along to the gallows steps. They are wide enough that you can easily walk beside her as she ascends. You can feel her terror growing through the trembling of her warm skin under your grip. Upon reaching the top, she once again recoils from the image of the noose swinging at the center of the platform. Now you have no choice. You pull her forcefully to her place, marked by a painted black square. As you position her, you see that the platform is hinged in such a way that the entire forward half will drop away when triggered. Nothing to hinder the view, you think grimly to yourself. She is sobbing softly now, her shoulders shaking visibly. The rope is positioned directly in front of her head, and you now see her lovely face framed by the noose. Her chin is wrinkled and trembling, her eyes downcast as you move it over her head and cinch it down on her neck, carefully pulling her hair shoulder length auburn hair free of the loop. You move behind her and slide the knot carefully around to a point just behind her ear. Once the rope is properly positioned, you give the knot one more sharp tug, making the rope dig noticeably into her neck. She gives an audible gasp but, as you had told her, you must follow procedure. According to the regulations, she is required to hang nude. You reach between her bound arms and unsnap her bra. She instinctively presses her arms against it, trying to preserve her last shred of dignity. You move back in front of her and pull it away so her firm breasts are fully exposed. To your surprise, you see her nipples harden noticably. In spite of yourself, you feel your cock begins to stir again at the site of her trembling breasts. Next are her panties. Sliding your fingers between the fabric and her silky hips, you slip them down to her ankles. As you move downward, your face pases close to the dark triangle between her legs and you smell the musk of sexual arousal. "They have to come off", you whisper. She hesitates, then steps out of the panties, lifting one foot at a time so you can take them. Looking down at the material in your hands, you notice a dark stain of wetness at the crotch. With your cock now throbbing, you wonder if she is as turned on as you are. Could it be? Now you must make the final preparation. Using a piece of rope which had been left on the platform for this purpose, you wrap it tightly around her legs, just above the ankles. There is enough rope for five smooth turns before you tie it off. With nothing left to do, you stand and look at her face for the last time in life. "I love you, Gillian", you say huskily. "Thank you...... for everything", she answers in a quavering voice, just above a whisper. Unlike the gallows of earlier days, there is no mechanical lever to pull. You walk back down the steps and take your position at a control console in front of the platform. From here, you will release the trap electronically. However, it also gives you the clearest, and closest view of the hanging. Standing beside you, the warden begins to read from a legal document in his hand. "Gillian Anderson, you have been found guilty of a capital crime and, according to the laws of this state, sentenced to hang by the neck until you are dead. I hold in my hand a Death Warrant, signed by the Governor. As warden of this facility, it is my duty to execute this order. Do you have anything to say before sentence is carried out?" Shaking uncontrollably now, soft moans vibrating in her throat, she can only shake your head. "Then I now direct the executioner to carry out sentence.", he says, and nods to you. For a moment, you feel frozen in time. You look up at the woman you love, standing bound and naked on a platform with the heavy noose around her neck. You feel your erection pounding as you see her, more beautiful, more desirable than you have ever seen her before. You must act. With a force of will beyond anything you have ever experienced, you lift the safety cap and press the large red button before you. With an enormous crash, the front section of the platform falls away, pounding against the supporting beams of the gallows. Quickly, you turn your attention to her. You had hoped that the drop would be long enough to break her neck, ending her torment quickly and mercifully. That is not to be, however. This state is very strong on the deterrent value of capital punishment, and so makes sure that an appropriate example is made of all condemned criminals. The fall is less than two feet, leaving the majority of her body still above the platform when the rope jerks tight, digging deeply into the flesh of her neck. Her brief scream as she realizes she is falling is cut short, ending in a rasping gag as the noose pulls her head around and over to one side. Now comes the worst part. In order to be with her, you are required to perform all the duties of the executioner. This includs watching her from the moment she is hanged, until the doctor certifies her dead. You stare, transfixed, as her beautiful, naked body writhes and thrashes against her bonds. You see her hands desperately wringing against the rope, trying to get free and release the pressure on her neck. She kicks her legs frantically, trying to reach the ground which is fully three feet below her. Her face is now a bright red, her mouth open wide seeking even the slightest breath of air. Her efforts result in only a pitiful gaging sound, each kick pulling the noose tighter. As she swings, you see her struggles take on a more rythmic motion. Her hips undulate, and her shoulders shake, making her breasts sway erotically. Again you notice her nipples, standing out hard and erect. Even if you weren't required to watch, you could not look away now. As you stare, you see the dark flush of her face deepen even further, and a pink blush spreads down across her breasts. She lifts her knees slightly, then thrusts them downward, her legs shuddering at the end of their travel. She does this again.... and again.... and suddenly you realize she is cumming! She is having her last orgasm as she dangles at the end of that rope! Frozen in place, you watch her cum, and suddenly feel your cock begin to throb as you reach your own orgasm. Painfully aware of the witnesses, you try to hide the spreading stain on your pants, as you look over in their direction. Looking from face to face, you see the same unmistakeable look on a number of the men, and even two of the women. Those who are not having their own orgasms are so fixated on your lover's death throes that they don't look away, even for a moment. They have no more interest in you than they would in a spider crawling across the floor. Realizing that you must still watch the hanging, you refocus your attention on her. Her face is now a nasty purple color, and her tongue is protruding out the side of her mouth. Her body is still swaying from the motions of her legs, but those movements have lessened dramatically now. As her body slowly turns, you see her face fully. A thin line of pink tinged saliva is running out the corner of her mouth, down her chin and drips onto her breast. Looking at her eyes, you see that, even now, she is still alive. However, the terror is gone now, replaced by a look of acceptance. As your eyes lock onto each other, you see her mouth moving sluggishly. 'I love you'? Did she try to say 'I love you'? Still not sure if you actually saw it, or just imagined it, you watch as her eyes roll up and her struggles cease. In the utter silence of the death chamber, you hear a small tapping sound, and see a growing puddle below her swinging body. Looking closer, you see the trail of urine where it follows the curve of her legs, and is now dripping off the toe of one deep wine shoe. As your gaze moves slowly upward, you take in details you know you will never forget; the still sexy curves of her body, the final twitches of her delicate fingers, the creases in her neck where the rope, now almost completely burried, dug cruelly into her. You begin to rise, but the warden motions you to remain seated. A doctor presses his stethascope to her breast and listens intently. With his acknowledgement, the warden speaks to the witnesses. "Ladies and Gentlemen, sentence has been carried out. Gillian Anderson has been duely hanged, and has been pronounced dead at 12:25 P.M. You may leave as the guards direct you." 12:25. It has been nearly twenty minutes since you pressed the button and hanged her. As you get up from your position, you see two orderlies roll a gurney out from behind the gallows platform and begin to lower her body onto it. Your last image before turning to leave is of one of the orderlies, straining to remove the noose from around her neck. You walk out the door without turning back. As you leave the prison, your mind wrestles with what you have done this day. Slowly, your compassion for a lover overpowers your guilt. It was not easy, but she needed you. You were there for her at the end, and that is what is important. Such is the price of love.