"Mother and Daughter Execution By Randall John Nelson guro"
By robblu (https://pastebin.com/u/robblu)

URL: https://pastebin.com/1mhbUZqm
Created on: Sunday 14th of January 2018 12:18:55 AM CDT
Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 03:16:34 AM UTC


Mother and Daughter Execution
By Randall John Nelson
There was simply no place in the world for Francine Myers, and according to the law she should never have been born in the first place. 
Following the war with China, the parts of North America not destroyed by nuclear fire were overrun with bands of raiders or fell under the control of despots. One such despot, going as Cain the First, created his own kingdom in what was once the Northwest United States and British Columbia. To preserve resources, Cain decreed that every couple must get royal approval to reproduce. The punishment for having an unauthorized child was harsh: death. Not only that, but the unauthorized child would be executed first while the parents were forced to watch.
Fourteen years ago, Francine’s parents gave birth to her without royal approval. With the help of a friend with ties to the system, they managed to modify the database to make Francine’s birth seem legit. Then, six months ago, that man was arrested for an unrelated scam. In exchange for his own freedom, he told the authorities about several families he faked records for, including the Myers Family. When the police came to arrest them her dad gave his life so that she and her mother could escape, but his sacrifice was in vain. When they tried climbing out of the bedroom window into the backyard an officer spotted them and they were arrested.
Francine and her mother were placed in separate cells for the duration of their trials, which were decided in a week without them even making an appearance in court. Francine was sentenced to death, as was her mom, and it would be carried out in a week.
On her special day, Francine laid on the cold stone bed watching the cell door with a grim expression. She had to use her knee-length blonde hair as a pillow, as they didn’t provide her with one. 
She only wore a thin white bra and matching thin white panties. Although she was given a light-brown shirt and a pair of pants, she chose not to wear them. Francine, since she was old enough to change her own clothes, only wore them when she had to, as she was most comfortable in nothing but her skin. She was also quite proud of her body, and starting at the age of nine she always wore the most revealing outfits she could get away with. Even with the end of her life being imminent, she found that her old habits were hard to kick. The prison staff never seemed to care when they came in to deliver meals or escort her to the shower. 
The buzzer over the door sounded out and Francine sat up. The door opened and a woman with short black hair wearing an olive-green military uniform walked through the door.
“Miss Myers, your execution will take place in approximately one hour. I’m here to escort you to the showers so you may prepare yourself,” the woman droned grimly.
Francine held out her hands as the woman put her in handcuffs. Then she quietly followed the woman out of cell, where another guard waited, and down the long hallway. Since her arrival, Francine’s personality has become one of compliance, and, other than to answer a few yes or no questions, she hasn’t said much. Francine did cry quite a bit the first few days, and again when the guards told her that she had been sentenced to death, but otherwise she was quiet and seemed more apathetic than anything else. The sense of dread has sent her into a deep depression and, paradoxically, she just wanted this to be over: even if being over meant the end of her life.
The guards stopped Francine in front of a steel door while the blonde guard entered a password to open it. Once inside she removed the handcuffs and left the room.
The other guard, a curvy redhead, entered the room and unlocked a large cabinet along the right wall.
“When you get out, you may choose any outfit out of the Last Wardrobe instead of the standard lockers, if you’d like” the woman told her.
The Last Wardrobe contained nicer clothes, and was only opened for someone who was going to be executed; a way of allowing them to die with some dignity.
“You have up to fourty-five minutes to shower and get ready. When you’re done just press this red button,” and she pointed to a small red button on the wall next to the door, “and if you don’t come out in the allotted time, we will come in and remove you by whatever means necessary. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Francine uttered.
The two guards exited the shower room and locked the door.
“Well, guess this is it,” she sighed as she took off her bra and panties. 
Francine stepped through the door at the other end of the room and went for the nearest shower head and turned it on. She just stood for ten minutes letting the warm water splash her face before cascading over her shoulders and down her long hair. Usually showers were in the evening, and Francine had to shower with at least a dozen other girls at a time; many, to her frustration, were not the least bit shy about slapping her ass and boobs. Because of that, Francine was joyous to shower alone for the first time in weeks, and she wanted to enjoy it as much as possible. When Francine did start applying soap she took another twenty-five minutes, most of which was washing the same body part over and over. Almost thirty minutes after stepping into the shower, she finally turned off the water and left.
Francine didn’t bother with the special clothes, or even the standard clothes. After drying herself off she pressed the red button signaling the guards that she was done.
The dark-haired woman remained as stoic as ever, but the redheaded guard was a little more than shocked to see Francine standing there naked.
“Aren’t you going to put some clothes on?” The woman asked as the other placed the handcuffs back on.
Francine looked at her with defiance and said, “I’d rather die in what I'm most comfortable in.”
“I suppose that’s somewhat… admiral. Although, I’m sure you know that this is streamed, right?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure that my body could be enjoyed by guys across the nation.” Francine replied.
The black-haired guard coughed at Francine’s response.
Francine didn’t care. She was proud of her body, and didn’t see any shame in showing it off. She was petite with perky medium breasts, and a round, firm ass. She did expose one of her breasts to a boy at school, but no guy has seen her bottom parts yet; except for her father when he changed her diapers. So this was her last chance for boys to see all of her; however, there was a twinge of pain knowing that her assets would never be touched.
The guards didn’t say anything else as they escorted her to the execution ground.
They walked her out to a field behind the prison complex. Francine would have enjoyed the fresh air more if it wasn’t December; she stepped out onto the field the icy wind blasted any warmth from her wet skin, and the a powerful chill pierced her body to the bones. Her nipples stiffened and each step onto the snowy field brought a sharp gasp from her lips.
“I bet you wish you wore something now, don’t you?” The redheaded guard teased.
Francine ignored her and kept walking. The sun shining over a forest just on the edge of the field lifted her spirits a little, even if it was a little blinding. Her body quickly became desensitized to the cold, anyways, and she was able to ignore the discomfort.
“Francine! Oh my God!” A woman yelled out.
“Mom! Mom!” She responded, in what was probably the largest display of emotion in Francine’s life.
The guards tightened their grip on Francine’s arms to prevent her from running over to her. They were held at the same prison complex, but prisoners were segregated by age group, and the last time Francine saw her mother was the night they were arrested. 
“Hey, that’s my daughter you bitches! Be gentle!” The woman tried to run at the guards, but the two responsible for guarding her restrained her before she could.
“Shut your fucking mouth. We’ll handle all prisoners as we see fit,” one of them said before slapping Francine’s mother in the head.
Ahead there was four camera crews and several other guards; all female, as the rest of the prison staff. A masked woman stood next to a giant tool cabinet and holding a tablet. Beyond her was a massive hole with a wooden bridge running across it.
The guards led Francine to the masked woman and removed the handcuffs.
“Now, if you make any attempts to run, you should know that we will shoot you down before you even finish thinking about making such an attempt,” the black-haired woman threatened.
Francine nodded in agreement, signaling her intents to comply.
“Good,” the masked woman began, turning their attention towards her, “now we can begin.”
She opened the tool cabinet and brought out a small tin box and opened it. After pulling out what looked like six ball bearings she closed the lid and returned the box to where she got it.
“Take these,” the woman said and handed them to Francine, “just place them in your mouth and swallow them like pills,” she continued when Francine expressed confusion.
She looked at them for a second longer. Each one was a metal sphere two centimeters in diameter, but she knew that she didn’t have much of a say. Grimacing, she placed each one on her tongue and, with painful effort, swallowed. By the time the last one went down she had a strong urge to vomit.
“Good, now go to the middle of the bridge and wait,” the woman ordered as she did something on her tablet.
Francine briefly wondered what that was for before deciding it would be easier if she didn’t know. Her thoughts than filled with the realization that she was walking to her death. 
The hole was massive; easily three meters wide and about five meters deep. The bridge was only a meter wide and without railings, and dried blood coated much of it further to the center. Francine almost wanted to just let herself fall in to end it quickly, rather than face whatever horrible execution they have planned, but one look down changed her mind; at the bottom were the mangled corpses of other girls who, judging by their relative freshness, were executed earlier that day. Even through the cold, the smell of shit, urine, and decaying corpses brought the urge to vomit back, and Francine did gag before the feeling passed.
“Everything will be over soon, sweetie, and I’m sorry we let you down,” her mother called out before bursting into tears.
Francine didn’t respond, because she would break down too if she did. Instead she just turned around and smiled at her before she sat down.
Some of guards and camera women expressed surprise and even disgust as Francine spread her legs and placed her middle finger into her pussy. Francine didn’t care; she had to take her mind off of the situation, and this has been the only thing during her imprisonment that alleviated her depression. Her mother, surprisingly, was not even perturbed, because she knew that Francine got her sexual side from her. If they were at home she would have been pissed, but now she was just happy that her daughter could find some comfort.
In fact, not only did it calm her mind, it allowed her to replace the thoughts about her impending death with more pleasurable memories. She remembered that boy she showed her tit to two years ago, and when he showed her his cock. She imagined that was thrusting in and out of her girlhood instead of her middle finger, and she quickly entered a state of ecstasy. Her moans rushed out over the field as she lost herself in the act. She ran her tongue around inside of her own mouth and even licked her lips, exploring it, and imagining that boy's tongue. Then she imagined one the girls in her class, and that sent her over the edge.
Her orgasm didn’t get to fully unravel, because at that moment an intense pain erupted inside of her stomach. Her eyes shot open and she doubled over as blood exploded up her esophagus to be sprayed out in massive chunks. Blood also sprayed from holes that were just ripped open. Urine and blood poured from her crotch. The metal ball bearings she swallowed were actually tiny bombs, and they exploded all at once.
The pressure wave and bomb fragments obliterated her internal organs, and some of the fragments burst through her soft belly. If there wasn’t so much blood coming out of her throat, she would be screaming. Her mother was screaming when she saw blood pouring from her daughter like a fountain. When shit and blood gushed from her asshole that was it for her, and Francine fell unconscious seconds later.
One of the guards walked carefully across the bridge and approached Francine’s body.
“She’s still moving!” The woman yelled.
“Probably just postmortem spasms, go ahead and put her in the hole,” the masked woman replied.
Francine’s mother wailed when the guard placed her foot on her daughter’s body and shoved it into the hole. 
“Ariel Myers will be executed immediately!” The masked woman said as she opened her tool cabinet again.
Ariel Myers, mother of Francine Myers, was only fifteen years older than her daughter. She shared the same petite physique and round that Francine had, but her chest-length hair was ginger and frizzy. Her breasts were larger too, with puffy nipples. 
Ariel wasn’t an exhibitionist like her daughter, at least not anymore, and her outfit was relatively more conservative. She had a bright pink polo and knee-length purple skirt, and brown boots.
The guards walked her over to the masked woman and removed all restraints.
“If you are wearing panties drop them,” she demanded.
“I-I thought we could die with whatever we had on?” Ariel asked, alarmed.
“Just do it! You can pull them back up when I’m through with you. Now hurry up so you can reunite with your daughter and we can move on,” she snapped.
Ariel reluctantly followed the woman’s instructions, and lifted her skirt to push her white cotton panties down to her ankles.
“Good girl,” the masked woman said as she brought out a long box.
This time she pulled six metal cylinders, each ten centimeters across and three centimeters in diameter. Ariel flinched before the woman reached underneath her skirt, and had to bite her lip to keep from making noise as she inserted three of the cylinders into her pussy, and she did let out several audible gasps as she shoved one into her asshole. Then put the last two underneath Ariel’s shirt, sticking them into her cleavage.
“Now go and stand in the middle of that bridge,” the woman ordered.
Ariel sniveled as she walked to her doom. Each step, as her thighs moved back and forth, she felt the sticks inside of her, driving her insane. Still, she dreaded what the things were going to do to her more than anything else. When she arrived at the center of the bridge she stood as close to the edge as possible.
One minute later, and the devices exploded, shrouding Ariel in smoke, a mist of blood, and a flurry of pulverized flesh and bone. They obliterated her torso, and the remaining chunks rained down into the pit with the other bodies. The camera crews and several guards approached the hole for confirmation, before the execution was officially declared a success.
Prisoners continued to be executed until midnight. Then the massive hole was filled in and the execution crews went home to prepare for next week’s executions. 
Francine’s masturbation during her execution  gained popularity around the Kingdom. Cain himself viewed it, and promptly decreed that attractive women and girls could earn a painless death by masturbating during the execution.