«So, have you heard the news?» - A Midsummer Festival Story! [crux., gutting, semi-cons.]

[Zephirantes]

«So, have you heard the news?» - A Midsummer Festival Story!

Synopsis

The story is set in the eerie town of Innsmouth, known for its bizarre customs and ancient laws. During the midsummer festival, a pretty young girl is selected by lottery to be executed in a most gruesome manner. She is stripped naked and nailed to a short cross with her knees bent, leaving her body exposed and vulnerable to her fellow villagers' probing hands...
Throughout the day, she shall endures additional tortures, and her suffering will finally be ended only by being eviscerated, cut open from her vagina to her breastbone, as a final act of midsummer "mercy".

"So, have you heard the news?" Emma asked, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and unease.

"You mean about Mirta?" Molly replied, her brow furrowing as she tried to process what she already knew was coming.

"Yeah, the poor thing's been picked for the cross. I still can’t believe it," Sam added, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Has she... agreed with it?" Jo asked, a hint of hope in her voice, as if Mirta might somehow escape this fate.

"What do you mean?" Molly asked, a little confused.

"Well, in theory she could refuse..." Jo muttered, knowing how unlikely that was.

"You well know that nobody did, since time immemorial," Emma stated with a slight shrug, as if the thought of refusal was absurd.

"Time immemorial." Sam echoed, nodding in agreement.

"Surely Mirta wouldn't want to be the first 'midsummer girl' to freak out and pass the baton without going through her execution." Jo chimed in, her voice filled with certainty.

"Mirta may be too bubbly, too exuberant, and too cheerful, but surely she's no coward. She'll go on with it, toward her impending torment and death," Molly said, her tone filled with reluctant admiration.

"She’ll do just fine," Karen suddenly chimed in, her tone too casual, almost gleeful. "She’s always enjoyed being the center of attention, hasn’t she? Now she gets to be the main attraction in the grandest way possible. Fully naked and in pain..."

The others exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the undercurrent of sadistic pleasure in Karen’s words.

"I admit that pain and nakedness make for an... well, hot combination. Very erotic," Emma confessed with a blush, trying to sound casual, though a bit flustered.

"I always wanted to see Mirta naked. And well, nailed to the cross... it's restless: a crucified girl can never find a position hurting more... her body will constantly struggle and squirm, like a nude ballerina." Sam added with a mix of intrigue and discomfort.

"A nude ballerina doomed to die," Molly murmured, her voice soft, almost reverent.

"Do you remember Keira last summer? She was a cute girl, but dying on the cross made her more than just that: she was gorgeous..." Emma said, her tone thoughtful, as if the memory was both haunting and fascinating.

"I hope it will be so for dear Mirta too..." Jo whispered, almost to herself, as if willing it to be true.

"She’s got guts, that’s for sure." Sam nodded, admiring Mirta’s courage in a situation that would break most.

"And she'll lose them: if she survives until midnight, she's gonna be eviscerated, you know: fully gutted, her precious innards all taken out from her..." Karen added with a twisted smile, her tone as casual as if discussing a mundane task.

"Yeah, she's gonna be all opened up, from pussy to breastbone..." Emma said, her voice laced with a strange mix of horror and fascination.

"Well, better than hanging from a cross in pain for days, right? Mirta is a healthy, young gal, if she were not disemboweled she could last a lot... that would be worse, I think..." Sam reasoned, though her voice trembled slightly.

"But it’s not just about hanging there, is it? It’s what they’ll do to her while she’s up there… I heard they’re planning to make it a long day for her." Molly added, her tone filled with dark curiosity.

"A long day and a very short cross," Jo echoed, her voice barely above a whisper, the words heavy with implication.

"You know what that means, right? No escape, no hiding. She’ll be right at everyone’s level, perfect for all those 'curious' hands." Karen said with a wicked grin.

"All her most private parts exposed... up for grabs!" Emma added, her voice trembling with a mix of excitement and horror.

"I wonder if she’ll be brave enough to take it all with a smile. She’s always been a bit of a show-off." Sam speculated, trying to picture how Mirta would handle the inevitable.

"I doubt she can smile if they crush her nipples, burn her pussy, or pull apart her labia with pincers..." Molly added, her voice dark but filled with a strange kind of respect.

"Ouch! That would hurt!" Jo exclaimed, wincing at the thought.

"Sure will hurt. I wonder if it hurts more than being nailed and crucified..." Emma pondered, her voice thoughtful.

"Hope she's gonna be brave... poor Mirta!" Sam said, her voice filled with genuine concern.

"Brave or foolish, it doesn’t really matter," Karen said with a shrug, her tone dismissive. "By the end of it, she’ll be begging for the knife. To be disemboweled. Carved up. Cut open. Gutted. Feel free to choose the language you prefer..."

"But hey, if anyone can make this look good, it’s Mirta." Emma said, trying to lighten the mood, though her voice still carried an edge of sadness.

"You think she’ll fight it? I mean, scream and beg like the others did?" Jo asked, her voice filled with morbid curiosity.

"Not Mirta. She’s too proud for that. If anything, she’ll probably try to put on a brave face, maybe even enjoy it a little... until it gets too much." Sam speculated, her voice filled with an odd mix of admiration and fear.

"So, you see, eventually she too will scream and beg," added Karen with a cruel smile, enjoying the thought.

"I can almost see it now," Emma said, her voice soft, as if already picturing the scene in her mind.

"She’ll be up there, trying to keep her composure while the whole town has their way with her. All naked, with inquiring hands probing her most feminine places..." Molly said, her tone a mix of horror and dark fascination.

"It’s kind of... hot, in a messed-up way." Jo admitted, her cheeks flushing.

Karen laughed, a sound that was both light and chilling. "Hot? Hell, it’s going to be scorching. A real treat!"

"You’re twisted, Karen. But I guess we all are, in a way. We’ve grown up with this, after all. It’s just... tradition. The way of Innsmouth." Sam said, her tone resigned, as if trying to convince herself.

"The way of Innsmouth." The others echoed, their voices filled with a mix of resignation and anticipation.

"I can't deny I always enjoyed the executees' suffering. It's just too sexy. And the thrill when the new executee is announced? If I think it could just have been me! My god, I could cum just from that." Jo admitted, her voice trembling with a strange mix of fear and excitement.

"Yeah, the lottery is both scary and damn sexy!" Emma agreed, her cheeks flushed.

"Luckily for us, we got away with it again this year too!" Molly added with a relieved sigh.

"Us, yes. But not Mirta... it's strange to know that in three days she will be exposed naked on the cross for all to see, and that at the end of the fourth day she will be opened... opened in her tummy..." Sam said, her voice filled with sadness.

"I'll miss her." Emma whispered, her voice trembling.

"We all will. But for Karen here. She's 'a Karen', after all..." Molly said with a knowing look.

"Oh, I'll miss her too, in a way. It's good to have a rival. But I confess, it's good also when your rival is crucified in the nude and ripped open before your eyes..." Karen admitted with a wicked grin.

"Indeed, Karen, you really are 'a Karen'!" Sam said with a mix of amusement and horror.

"Do you think she’ll find some peace in it? I mean, knowing she’s fulfilling her role in the festival... that she’s part of something bigger?" Emma asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.

"Maybe," Molly replied, her voice thoughtful. "Or maybe she’ll just be scared out of her mind. But either way, she won’t be alone. We’ll be there, watching her every step of the way. Hell, we’ll probably be the first ones to... welcome her to her cross."

"You know, I’ve always wondered what it’s like... to feel that kind of fear, that mix of pain and... whatever else she’ll feel." Jo mused, her voice filled with morbid curiosity.

"It must be... I dunno, exhilarating perhaps? In a dark, perverse way, at least..." Sam suggested, her voice trembling slightly.
"We all know the thrill of risking our lives at the midsummer lottery, but... the fear of being chosen and knowing for sure that in three days you'll be crucified and tortured and gutted? That's another thing entirely," Emma continued, her voice soft and filled with dread. Her eyes flickered with a mix of empathy and a morbid curiosity that she couldn’t entirely suppress.

Molly nodded, her face clouded with thought. "Maybe Mirta will tell us, right before she goes under the knife. You never know, she might be grateful for the company as her entrails spill out..." Her words hung in the air, a chilling blend of hope and horror.

"Grateful?" Sam repeated, her tone dubious, yet with a hint of intrigue, as if she were trying to imagine herself in Mirta's place.

Karen’s lips curled into a sly smile, eyes sparkling with dark delight. "You think she’ll thank us for being there, for watching her squirm naked under torture?" she asked, clearly savoring the thought.

Emma shrugged, trying to sound indifferent but failing to hide the slight tremor in her voice. "Maybe not at first," she conceded. "But by the end of it? Yeah, I think she might. Especially when she realizes it’s the last bit of attention she’ll ever get."

Karen’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the mental image she was conjuring. "And what about you, Karen? You’ve always had a bit of a rivalry with Mirta. Think you’ll enjoy seeing her like that?" Jo asked, her tone a mixture of teasing and genuine curiosity.

Karen’s eyes gleamed with a predatory light, but she feigned innocence, her voice light and airy. "Oh, I won’t deny it’ll be... interesting. But rivalry or not, I think she’ll look beautiful up there. And besides," she added with a mischievous wink, "I might just be the one to hold the knife and gut her. You know, for old times’ sake."

The girls exchanged uneasy glances, not entirely sure if Karen was serious or just indulging in a bit of dark humor. But the way she spoke—so casually, so eagerly—made them wonder.

"It will be... very intimate..." Emma muttered, trying to mask her discomfort, her mind drifting to the horrific image of Karen carving into Mirta’s soft flesh.

"Sure, the cut will, well, bisect her clit..." Karen mused aloud, clearly relishing the image in her mind.

"Oh, poor gal..." Sam whispered, her voice a mix of pity and awe, unable to tear her thoughts away from the gruesome details.

"Losing her clit and her bowels... that must be so horrific for her..." Jo added, her voice trembling slightly as the reality of what was about to happen to their friend settled in.

Karen merely shrugged, her smile never fading. "Maybe, but it's her destiny since the lottery. She just has to deal with it the best she can," she said, her tone almost nonchalant, as if discussing an inevitable but necessary part of life.

The others fell silent, the weight of Karen’s words pressing down on them. They all knew she was right—there was no escaping fate in Innsmouth.

Emma raised her voice in a quiet toast, trying to lift the somber mood. "Well, here’s to Mirta then. May she take her punishment like the strong, stubborn girl we all know she is." There was a note of finality in her voice, as if trying to accept the inevitable.

"And may she give us one hell of a show," Karen added, raising an imaginary glass with a wicked grin. Her voice was filled with dark anticipation, as if she could already see Mirta’s pale, naked body writhing on the cross.

The group fell into an uneasy silence, each girl lost in her thoughts about the horrors that awaited their friend. In the back of their minds, they all knew that they could just as easily have been the one chosen. It was a sobering thought, one that clung to them as they each wondered what they would do in Mirta’s place.

But none of them said it out loud. Instead, they exchanged weak smiles, trying to comfort themselves with the knowledge that it wasn’t them—this time. And with that unspoken relief came a sick, twisted anticipation of what was to come.

Innsmouth’s midsummer festival would go on as it always had, with a naked girl on a short cross, writhing in agony and exposed for all to see. And this year, that girl would be Mirta.

 

[Zephirantes]

The first to break the eerie silence was Emma. "I wonder how she's faring?" she asked, her voice tinged with genuine concern as she imagined what Mirta must be going through.

"Mirta? Most probably she would be distraught at the moment..." Molly replied, her tone thoughtful, though there was a hint of dark curiosity in her eyes. She couldn’t help but imagine how Mirta was processing the reality of her fate.

"I dunno... should we pay her a visit?" Emma suggested, her voice hesitant but laced with a sense of duty toward their friend. There was a part of her that needed to see Mirta, to offer some form of comfort, even if it was in vain.

"To... you know... spirit her up?" Sam added with a hopeful tone, trying to keep things light even though the situation was anything but. She forced a smile, though it was clear the thought of what Mirta was facing weighed heavily on her.

"Sure. I mean, we cannot do any more than that. Surely we cannot save her from her fate..." Emma responded, her words filled with resignation. It was clear that, despite their concern, they all knew there was no escaping the ancient laws of Innsmouth. The tradition was as old as the town itself, and no one had ever defied it.

"In theory, one of us could take her place..." Molly suggested, her voice trailing off, though the idea seemed more theoretical than serious. She knew how unlikely that was, but the thought lingered in the air, heavy and ominous.

"No way. I don't wanna die naked, crucified, manhandled, and gutted for all to see. I'm sorry for Mirta, but I wouldn't exchange roles for anything!" Sam replied quickly, her voice firm as she shook her head, her expression a mix of horror and determination. The thought of it made her stomach churn, and she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest as if to protect herself.

Emma nodded in agreement, her expression grim. "It's understandable. Nobody would. And nobody ever did in fact." The girls exchanged somber glances, knowing the truth of her words. Tradition was a cruel master, and once chosen, there was no turning back.

Sam turned to Karen, who had been silent, but with a slight smile playing on her lips. "Karen, do you come too?" she asked, turning to their friend with a raised eyebrow, knowing full well how Karen felt about Mirta. There was something about the way Karen had been quiet that made Sam uneasy.

Karen’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with that familiar sadistic light. "Eh, I'm not exactly her friend..." she replied with a shrug, her tone casual, as if discussing something trivial. But beneath the surface, there was a palpable excitement that she barely contained.

"No, but I think it's better if you're with her too. I mean, some good rivalry to distract her..." Sam suggested, though her tone was a bit more uncertain, wondering if this was really the best idea. She knew Karen could be cruel, but maybe a little rivalry was what Mirta needed to keep her spirits up—if only a little.

Karen chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the thought. "I'll come with you, but keep in mind: I'll do all I can to remind her that she will soon be nailed to the cross naked, and disemboweled! Her pussy split in two, for real!" she declared, her voice laced with dark humor and twisted excitement. Her face showed both dark humor and twisted excitement. The others flinched at her words, but Karen just grinned, unrepentant.

The others exchanged uneasy glances, but they knew that Karen's words, though cruel, might serve as a strange form of motivation for Mirta. After all, there was a certain strength in facing one’s torture and death head-on, and perhaps Karen’s brand of rivalry would help Mirta do just that.

Emma sighed, giving Karen a half-amused, half-exasperated look. "Try not to be too harsh on the poor girl, okay? She’s already got enough on her plate without you rubbing salt in the wound." Her voice was firm, but there was a hint of pleading in her tone. She knew how Karen could be, and while a little dark humor might help, she didn’t want it to go too far.

Karen rolled her eyes but nodded, though the smirk never left her face. "Fine, fine. I’ll be a good girl... mostly. But you know me, I can’t resist poking a bit of fun..." Her tone was light, but the others could see the gleam in her eyes. Karen wasn’t going to hold back too much, and they all knew it.

"Okay, just a bit of fun..." Sam agreed, though her voice was laced with doubt. She knew Karen too well to believe she would actually hold back, but perhaps a little humor would be better than nothing.

"Hell, I look forward to poke her intestines too!" Karen quipped, her grin widening as she imagined the moment. There was a twisted glee in her voice, and it sent a shiver down the others' spines.

"Karen! Please behave!" Molly scolded, though there was no real force behind her words. They all knew what Karen was like, and no amount of scolding was going to change that.

"Okay, okay! What's a midsummer festival without some old fashioned gallows humor?" Karen relented, though her tone was mocking. She wasn’t going to let up entirely, but she would try to keep it in check—for now.

"Just don’t make it worse for her, okay?" Molly added, her voice softer, more pleading. She knew that if anyone could push Mirta over the edge, it was Karen, and she didn’t want that to happen.

"Alright, alright," Karen conceded, her tone mockingly defeated. "But I can’t promise I won’t enjoy it a little too much." She winked at the others, clearly relishing the idea of what was to come.

The girls exchanged a look, a mix of relief and worry. They still hoped her presence might somehow help Mirta stay strong, even if it was just by making her more determined to face her fate with her head held high.

"Let’s go, then. The sooner we see her, the better," Emma said, taking the lead as the others followed, their steps a mix of reluctance and resolve. They all knew this visit wouldn’t be easy, but they couldn’t leave their friend to face her doom alone.

"You know," Jo began, her tone attempting to be light-hearted despite the morbid subject matter, "if we go now, we might catch her before she starts really freaking out. Maybe make her laugh a little... before, you know..."

"Before she gets to hang around," Karen added with a chuckle, trying to match Jo’s tone but failing to conceal her sadism.

"Yeah, nothing like a good joke about her last days as an intact human to lighten the mood," Emma quipped, though her smile was strained, the weight of the situation pressing on her.

Karen’s eyes sparkled with wicked glee as she leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "How about we remind her of all the hands that will be on her body? I mean, being naked on a cross at that height... she’s basically a public toy. A sex toy, specifically. Ready for everyone’s attention."

Emma winced at the imagery, but couldn’t help the twisted fascination that came with it. "It’s... almost like a really dark, erotic dance, isn’t it? A dance she can’t stop, no matter how much it hurts."

"And Karen here fancies being the choreographer, right?" Jo added with a forced laugh, trying to make light of the situation, though the tension in her voice betrayed her unease.

Karen’s smile turned predatory as she shrugged. "I do like to set the stage. And who knows? Maybe she’ll surprise us all and put on a hell of a show. A real ‘last dance’ before the big finale."

Molly sighed, her expression conflicted. "I just hope she can find some... I dunno, something besides horror and pain in all this. Maybe we can help her with that, even if just a little."

Karen scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "We shall see what she's gonna find as her guts spurt out of her belly and the pain finally stops. But hey, I’m all for trying to make her last hours... entertaining." She spoke with such nonchalance that the others couldn’t help but shudder.

The girls fell into a somber silence, the reality of what they were about to witness sinking in. Yet, there was a strange sense of solidarity among them, even with Karen’s twisted excitement. They would be there for Mirta, in their own ways, and though the outcome was inevitable, they could at least face it together.

"So, shall we?" Emma asked, breaking the silence, her voice trembling slightly. The words hung in the air, a hesitant invitation to step into the darkness they all knew awaited them.

Karen smirked and gestured for the others to follow. "Let’s go cheer up our soon-to-be crucified girl. After all, it’s not every day you get to see a friend’s cunt literally split in two while she hangs on a cross!" Her tone was disturbingly cheerful, a stark contrast to the gravity of what they were about to do.

And with that, they made their way to Mirta, each girl carrying her own mix of emotions—fear, sympathy, curiosity, and in Karen’s case, a sick anticipation of the suffering to come.

As they walked, the mood lightened slightly, each girl trying to find some humor in the morbid situation they were about to step into.

"You know," Sam said with a forced chuckle, "I never thought our little group would be having conversations about crucifixion and evisceration like it’s just another day in Innsmouth."

"Yeah, well, welcome to life in this weird, twisted town," Emma replied with a grin. "Nothing says 'midsummer festival' like a bit of public execution, right?" The words came out with a bitter edge, but it was the best she could manage under the circumstances.

"Right," Molly agreed, though her voice was tinged with sadness. "But it’s still hard to believe it’s actually happening to Mirta." Her heart ached at the thought of their friend enduring such a fate, yet there was no denying the inevitable.

"It’s happening, alright," Karen chimed in with a laugh. "And I, for one, can’t wait to see how she handles it. I bet she’ll be squirming like a worm on a hook." Her words were cruel, but there was no mistaking the excitement in her voice.

"Karen!" Sam scolded, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "You’re terrible."

"Yeah, but you love me for it," Karen shot back, her grin wide and unrepentant.

The girls continued their walk, trying to keep the mood light even as they approached Mirta’s house, where they knew their friend was likely grappling with the fear and dread of what was to come.

As they reached the door, Emma took a deep breath and knocked, her heart heavy with what lay ahead. They were here to support Mirta, but they all knew that the true test would come when she was up on that cross, naked and exposed, facing her fate with the eyes of the entire town on her.

"Ready, girls?" Emma asked, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her worry.

"As ready as we’ll ever be," Sam replied, giving Emma’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Let’s do this," Molly added, her voice firm, trying to steel herself for what was to come. The determination in her voice was matched by the resolve in her eyes.

Karen just smiled, a mixture of excitement and morbid curiosity shining in her eyes. "Let the show begin."

 

[thecuriousone]

Love it. Is there more chapters coming out of Zephirantes pen?

 

[Zephirantes]

Mirta's door banged open even before they knocked, and her pretty, half-disrobed figure appeared to the group of girls, leaving them surprised at the sight of a rather undressed Mirta, ready to burst out.

"Hello Mirta, we, uh... well, nice bikini, I love that ‘brat? green, but, what's that line?" Emma stammered as the girls entered the room, trying to lighten the mood despite the grim situation.

Mirta looked up at them upset and outraged, like one who was about to tell an unbelievable occurrence. "It's a fucking tattoo! Can you believe it? The elders forced me to get it!" she replied, her voice trembling slightly as she pointed to the dark line running down her body, from her green slips to just between her small but well-formed breasts.

"But why?" Jo asked, her eyes wide with shock as she traced the line with her gaze, her stomach churning at the thought of its purpose.

Mirta took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "To prepare my body for what I have to undergo." Her words were laced with bitterness, though she tried to maintain some semblance of composure.

It's the line along which I've to be cut, when, you know..." she trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper as she gestured toward her abdomen, her fingers trembling slightly.

"At midnight?" Sam asked, her voice tinged with horror as the reality of what was about to happen to her friend sank in.

Mirta nodded, her eyes filling with tears as she looked down at the tattooed line. "Yeah..." she whispered, her voice breaking as the weight of her fate pressed down on her.

"When they're gonna disembowel you." Karen chimed in, unable to resist, her tone dark but oddly cheerful.

"Oh, poor girl," Molly murmured, her voice filled with sympathy as she reached out to touch Mirta’s arm, offering a small, comforting squeeze. The gesture was sincere, though it felt small in the face of the agony Mirta was sentenced to endure.

Karen, ever the sadist, couldn’t resist chiming in, her voice laced with dark humor. "And the line starts..." she began, her eyes gleaming with twisted excitement.

Mirta nodded again, her voice barely audible as she continued. "Yeah, it goes from my breastbone to... down there... just below my clit," she explained, her voice trembling as she pointed to the line that would soon guide the blade that would end her young life.

The room fell into a heavy silence, the reality of Mirta’s fate hanging over them like a dark cloud. Each girl grappled with her own emotions—fear, sadness, morbid curiosity—all while trying to offer Mirta whatever comfort they could in her final hours.

"And the bikini top conceals this, but... there are news: they've drawn circles around my nipples... I'm afraid my nipples will go before I'm done," Mirta added, her voice barely holding together as she shared more details of the cruel preparations she had been subjected to.

"Indeed the 'de-nippling' of the crucified girl is a classic in Innsmouth. Usually by burning or crushing the little buds..." Karen remarked almost clinically, her tone devoid of any real sympathy.

Mirta swallowed hard, the thought of what was to come clearly terrifying her. "And there are also other news... down there... concealed by my brief," she continued, her voice trembling even more.

All gazes were fixed on her briefs, which were so small that a few dark, neatly trimmed pubic hairs poked out of them.

"What news?" Emma asked, her voice barely a whisper, dreading the answer but feeling compelled to know.

"They have pierced my inner lips with rings, to spread 'em open when I'm on the cross..." Mirta trailed off, her voice filled with both shame and fear.

"Ouch, I'm sure that hurts!" Sam exclaimed, her face a mixture of horror and sympathy.

"...and they tattooed some side lines down there too. Around my... vulva. You know, the executioners plan to cut out my outer lips... my labia..." Mirta confessed, her voice shaking as she revealed the full extent of the horrors awaiting her.

"Oh, you're in for some drastic vulva-plastic," Jo commented, trying to mask her own discomfort with a poorly timed joke.

"Yeah, but decisively unrequested..." Mirta responded with a hollow laugh, the gallows humor a flimsy shield against the terror she felt.

Karen, however, wasn’t one to let the mood stay somber for long. With a wicked grin, she leaned in closer to Mirta, her voice dripping with mock cheerfulness. "Well, at least you know exactly where the knife’s gonna cut you, huh? No surprises there! And hey, think of it as a... a road map to your final destination! A painful and humiliating death, that is..."

Karen poked her finger into Mirta's tattooed belly-button to make her point, making the poor girl gulp.

Emma shot Karen a sharp look, her voice filled with warning. "Karen, come on. This isn’t the time for jokes." There was a firm edge to her voice, though she knew Karen wasn’t likely to listen.

But Mirta, to everyone’s surprise, let out a small, bitter laugh. "No, it’s okay. She’s right. At least I know what’s coming... can’t say that about everything in life, right?" There was a strange sense of acceptance in her voice, as if she had already come to terms with her fate.

"That’s the spirit," Karen replied with a smirk, clearly pleased that her dark humor had been received well. "And hey, who knows? Maybe you’ll start a new trend—‘execution chic’ or something. All the girls will be getting tattoos just like yours!"

"Yeah, it's gonna be full of pussies with dotted lines, and the text: 'please cut along here'..." Jo added with a grimace, trying to keep the mood light even as her stomach churned at the thought.

"Look at the bright side," Sam interjected, forcing a smile, "who else gets free custom tattoos and a full-body makeover before they die?"

Mirta couldn’t help but smile, despite the fear gnawing at her insides. "I wonder what they wanna do with my labia if the executioners will really cut me there?" she mused aloud, her voice trembling slightly.

"Maybe they'll take them as a memento. Often they take a piece from the girls... when they were still living, I mean, and preserve them in the Midsummer Museum..." Molly suggested, trying to sound matter-of-fact, though the idea made her skin crawl.

"Yeah, like, they took a toe from Jennifer!" Sam chimed in, her voice soft as she recalled the gruesome souvenirs taken from the previous executees' bodies.

"And an earlobe from Keira last year..." Molly chimed in, her voice hushed, as if speaking the names of the previous victims would summon their ghosts.

Mirta’s voice was small, almost trembling. "Well, my labia do seem a much more intimate piece of me than some toe or earlobe! I'm... very attached to them..." She managed a weak smile, the absurdity of the situation not lost on her.

Karen, ever the pragmatist, leaned in with a wicked grin. "Well, deal with it honey: they won't remain attached to your pussy for long, it seems..." Her tone was cheerful, almost playful, as if the whole thing was just a game.

"Apparently so..." said the condemned girl, her voice tinged with terror, sadness, but also a strange sense of pride. All mixed up together, in a weird, perverse blend. “It seems I’ll get 'de-nippled', and also… 'de-cunted'? Is that the right terminology? They’ll take my outer-lips and cut me through my clit, so…”

“Yeah, 'de-cunting' quite describes it…” Karen remarked with a twisted smile, clearly savoring the dark humor in the situation. "In four days your cunt is gonna rest on a plate, in a museum, and everyone will remember your ordeal watching that part of your sex..."

"Yeah, well, if I’m going out, I might as well do it in style, right? With my pinky hole as exposed as it can be..." Mirta added, trying to inject some levity into the grim reality she was facing.

"Absolutely," Sam agreed, her voice firm as she tried to keep the mood light. "It seems they plan to expose and stretch you open wide down there..." There was a forced cheerfulness in her tone, as if trying to convince herself that this was all just some morbid joke.

"The cross is so short that, well... some guy might consider making his way with you..." Jo added, her voice hesitant but laced with dark humor.

"Gulp! THAT would be so indecent!" Mirta exclaimed, her voice wavering between disbelief and the inherent absurdity of being startled at the idea of being fucked on the cross when the real issue at hand is precisely that she will be on the cross, to die excruciatingly.

"Don't you want a guy in you before you go?" Karen asked with a wicked grin, clearly enjoying the discomfort she was causing.

"I dunno... surely I don't look forward to being shagged on the cross," Mirta replied, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and uncertainty.

"And besides, overall I think I would like to try girls for once?" she added, her tone lighter, trying to keep the conversation playful despite the dark subject matter.

"Your first and last time with girls," Molly said with a soft smile, trying to play along while suppressing her own unease.

"In that case, ready for some good fisting, girl. Brace to have your cervix hit hard!" Karen quipped, her voice filled with dark amusement, clearly relishing the graphic nature of the conversation.

"Hey, no need to go so deep! And I was just fantasizing! I don't wanna be molested as I suffer on my cross," Mirta replied quickly, her voice tinged with panic as she realized how far the conversation had spiraled.

"We shall see, little morsel..." Karen teased, her voice low and menacing, though her eyes sparkled with twisted delight.

Karen’s hand casually stroked Mirta's exposed pubic hair, jolting the girl, unaccustomed to such intrusions into her intimate areas, and certainly not from Karen. Mirta’s voice trembled as she tried to sound nonchalant. “But anyway,” she reflected aloud, ”I suspect that soon Karen herself will enjoy abusing me right in my private parts... and nailed wrists and feet to my cross, I will certainly be unable to do anything to oppose her."

Karen’s grin widened as she sensed the fear in Mirta’s voice: "Sure I will!"

But before she continue, Sam stepped in, her tone more supportive. "Anyway, we’ll be right there with you, cheering you on... until the very end of you" Sam’s voice was sincere, trying to steer the conversation back to a place of support and solidarity.

Molly nodded, her voice filled with sincerity as she added, "We’ll make sure you’re not alone, Mirta. No matter what happens, we’re here for you." The warmth in her voice was genuine, a stark contrast to the dark humor that had dominated the conversation.

Mirta’s eyes filled with tears, but she managed a grateful smile. "Thank you, gals. That means a lot... more than you know." Her voice was soft, filled with a mixture of fear and gratitude as she looked at her friends.

Karen, never one to let a moment pass without her own brand of humor, leaned in closer and whispered with a grin, "And don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get the best angle when they start cutting your privates. We wouldn’t want to miss a single detail of your grand finale, with your precious genitals going out." The words were cruel, but there was a twisted playfulness in Karen's tone, as if she were discussing a fun day out rather than a horrific execution.

Mirta shook her head with a rueful smile, her voice steady as she replied, "Just make sure it’s my good side, okay?" Her attempt at humor was brave, though there was a tremor in her voice that betrayed her fear.

"You got it, gal," Karen promised with a wink, clearly enjoying every moment of the twisted conversation. "We’ll make sure your execution is one for the history books."

Mirta sighed, accepting her fate with as much grace as she could muster. “If I’m going out like this, I guess I can at least be memorable,” she said with a weak laugh, trying to find some solace in the idea of leaving a mark—however gruesome—on the world, with her own demise.

 

[prtn]

Great! it seems you are posting those snuff stories you mentioned in another thread. Can't wait to read them all.
Thanks for sharing

 

[Zephirantes]

Great! it seems you are posting those snuff stories you mentioned in another thread. Can't wait to read them all.
Thanks for sharing

Thank you, but actually I'm writing this one now, almost "on the fly".
I came up with the idea today, and decided to focus on a group of friends of the executee rather than only on the executee.

 

[smapepito]

A beautiful story! Thanks for posting!