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Executions
– I Firing
Squad
- Fire! All the soldiers shoot together.
Six blows that hit his chest and belly and slam him against the wall. He
falls to the ground and remains seated, his back against the wall, breathing
heavily. I approach. I see that he has started to piss, as it happens often.
I laugh. He looks at me. He says: - Shit! I laugh again. I lean over him a
little. He repeats: - Shit! Son… of bitch. I shake my head. - You're croaking, asshole. Seeing him dying turns me on. This
strong man, this bandit that we have hunted for years, excites me. Ever since
we caught him I always have a hard cock. Last night I fucked him in his cell
twice. And this morning I want to fuck his strong ass again. I don't think
anyone ever fucked him before me. I would fuck him in the mouth now. I'd
stick my cock all the way down his throat, but I don't want to do it in front
of the soldiers. There is little discipline here, in this asshole of the
world, but I don't want anyone to tell around that I was fucking a condemned
man in the mouth. - Asshole, now you croak, then
I'll take you to the cell and fuck your ass once again. He looks at me. His eyes are
veiled. He still manages to say: - Shit! I lean against the wall and put
the barrel of my gun in his mouth. - Croak, son of a bitch. I fire. There is a convulsive
movement of his head and then nothing more. When I remove the gun, his head
falls on his chest. I turn to my men: - Salvador, Ermo, Francisco,
Pedro, bring the body into the cell. It takes four men to transport
this Hercules. My men are a little amazed at my order. I think Pedro suspects
something, because he has a mocking smile. Then I turn to Eduardo and
Regelio: - You, dig the grave! In the cell I tell the soldiers to
put him with his chest on the table. Now everyone understood and they laugh,
but they don't say anything. - Now get out. They leave. On leaving Pedro says: - Have fun. I look at his ass, hairy, strong.
There is some shit. I take his shirt, which remained in the cell with his
pants, and clean it. Fucking him last night was great.
I lower my pants and underpants. I put my hands on his ass and poke him, like
a chicken on a spit. I start fucking his ass. It is an incredible pleasure. I
would like to make it last long, but I am too excited and I am cum quickly. I laugh. I say: - I fucked you three times,
asshole. I call the men again and have him
taken to the grave that the soldiers are digging. When the grave is ready,
they lift it and let it go so that it falls on the ground with its back. I unbutton my pants, take out my
cock, still turgid, and piss on the dead man's face. We do it often. The
others get around the pit and do the same. The pit remains open all day.
Someone uses the dead man as a target. When I return in the evening, the
corpse has at least forty holes. They shot him in the eyes, in the cock, in
the balls, as well as in the chest and belly, in the arms and legs. The piss
mixed with the blood. There are several insects on the corpse. - Close the pit. The soldiers perform. It's nice to
see this piece of shit disappear under the ground. |
