Execution of the Terrorist Housewives

Execution of the Terrorist Housewives by Jill Crokett

Chapter Nine, False pregnancy

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The 16-year-old let out a loud cry as Dr. Wexler forced the wide-gauged needle deep into the firm muscle tissue of her young, virgin uterus. Laying strapped into the stirrups, her heels turned bottom-up and pointed toward opposing corners of the room, Diane Howell's teenage daughter was still covered with belt marks from the severe whipping she had received several days earlier. Tracy continued to weep as Wexler methodically explained what was going to happen to her over the next 18 hours.

“By this time tomorrow Tracy, you'll be a woman. You'll have fully experienced the procedure which separates girls from women, brides from mothers. Once the false pregnancy ‘football' inside you has swelled to its full size, the nurses are going to strap you down to a delivery room table and, as several hundred witnesses watch, you'll give birth to something as wide as both of my fists”

The doctor gestured by holding up his fists clenched together in a ball. Tracy continued to cry softly as she stared at Wexler between her spread legs.

“And being a virgin, Tracy, I can tell you that it's going to be an extremely uncomfortable experience. I've never performed the false pregnancy procedure on a virgin before, but I imagine it'll be quite painful.”

“To help with the delivery, I'm going to insist that my nurses make sure you're strapped down with your legs spread as high and as wide as possible, and I'll probably have to do an episiotomy to get that damn thing out of you.”

“An, an epee what?” Tracy asked through her tears.

Wexler never answered the sobbing girl, but simply turned and walked from the room through the automatic doors.

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Sara Stahler was still suffering the effects of the severe whipping she had received less than 48 hours earlier when Dr. Wexler guided the huge syringe needle between her spread labia and slowly inserted it through the tiny hole of her cervix and deep into her muscular womb. Sara cried softly but would not look Wexler in the eye as he performed a procedure. He did not speak to Sara, as he had done when performing the procedure on Diane and her daughter Tracy. Wexler had no interest and taunting the beautiful, short-haired blonde, as he had had his fill of her earlier in the week when he had repeatedly raped her tight virgin asshole. For Sara Stahler the procedure was just yet another deep stroke of the continuous a rape she felt her life had been since being sentenced days earlier.

Over the next 18 hours Diane, Tracy and Sara experienced unbelievable agony, each in her private prison cell, as their uteruses rapidly swelled, expanding their pelvises near the bursting point. Diane was slowly pacing in her cell in frank labor pain when the guards came to get her. They were shocked at what they saw; a mature, totally naked woman in her early 40's with a hugely swollen abdomen, her belly button now popping slightly outward.

The guards handcuffed her and led Diane down the long corridor to her awaiting delivery. They would first make a stop at a gynecological prep room where she would again be shaved and given a series of enemas. Escorting her down the hall drew even more attention then before, as prison employees and other prisoners gawked at the uniformed guards escorting the handcuffed, mature, nine-month pregnant shaved female to her next fate.

Diane Howell was the first of the three women led into the procedure theater. Unlike before, the lights in the entire theater, including the witness gallery, were all up this time, allowing Diane to get a good view of the two hundred or so witnesses who are about to witness the delivery of her false pregnancy.

The witnesses watched in amazement as a group of uniformed guards slowly escorted this mature but very pregnant, completely nude woman into the theater. After she entered her arms were uncuffed as she stood facing the gallery. Diane could see the three unusual looking obstetrical tables queued up in a row directly in front of the witnesses. She could tell they weren't traditional OB tables, but had unusual leg restraint stirrups at the head end of them. With one glance her instantly knew the extreme position into which she was about to be placed. She surmised that one of the other two tables would be occupied by her own daughter, whom she had not seen since they both had been whipped in the same punishment theater several days earlier.

Before Diane was strapped down spread open wide to the delivery table, the guards momentarily kept her standing in front of the witnesses. The entire gallery stared at her ready-to-pop pregnant belly and the shaved feminine crack just below it. From the gallery Bill Schnell gazed at the helpless condemned female. His wife Karen wondered if the sight turned her husband on. In the now lighted witness gallery she did not dare touch his crotch as she had done the day before.

The 42-year-old condemned mother hung her head in total humiliation before the witnesses as she stood facing them, her pregnant belly full, as guards adjusted the multiple restraint straps on the modified OB table. Diane's freshly shaved pubic mound glistened as she stood in front of the crowd of men and women whom she had never seen before. As they stared back, the female witnesses gazed at her cesarean scar from the delivery of her daughter 16 years earlier. The men stared at her slick, puffy pussy lips which were are about to deliver a foreign object. Up to this point in her life, because she had previously delivered by cesarean section, nothing had passed between Diane's labia larger than an erect penis.

Before Diane had arrived in the theater, Wexler had instructed the gallery as to the proceedings they were about to witness. He briefly but carefully explained that Diane, Tracy and Sara would each expel from their uterus, through their vagina, something the size of an American football. After he spoke, each of the witnesses had then been offered a pair of earplugs. Most had accepted.

Wexler had explained that the three women would be brought in one at a time, strapped down, and then all three would, at the same time, be rapidly induced into labor with the injection of a high dose of uterine-contracting hormone. For the comfort of the witnesses, he said he would try to speed up the delivery time to not more than 30 to 40 minutes. Wexler had explained that 400 times the normal dose of the drug would be used, producing a rapid onset of full labor the moment the condemned woman was injected. He had explained that the condemned females would each experience extreme pain unlike and they had felt before. Anti-nausea drugs and drugs to counteract unconsciousness would be used “to keep them in the present moment” throughout the ordeal, Wexler sadistically quipped.

Four guards grabbed Diane Howell tightly by each extremity and quickly laid her on her back with her wide buttock cheeks extending off the end of the short table. The guards proceeded to strap her down with her arms out crucifixion-like onto rigid IV boards which extended perpendicular from each side of the OB table.

Each arm was strapped firmly to one of the boards projecting out to either side of her. A single strapped was tightened across her chest up under her large pendulous breasts. Two other straps were positioned to tightly hold down each shoulder. With her upper torso firmly restrained, nurses then inserted IV needles into each of Diane's arms and hooked thin clear plastic tubes to each needle. These tubes would carry the drugs which would rapidly induced labor.

Once Diane's shoulders and arms were securely strapped down crucifixion like, the guards holding her legs at the ankles now drew her knees all the way up to her chest and spread them open, widely exposing her inner labial folds to the audience. They then strapped her knees securely to a set of heavy metal brackets which for protruded from the sides of the table and either side of her chest.

This position allowed her knees to be flexed at a ninety degree angle, with the soles of her feet facing upwards toward the ceiling. Another black steel T-shaped bracket was then swung into position over her head and her ankles were securely cuffed to it. Diane was now completely immobile. It had taken a good10 minutes to get her totally secured in the special modified delivery position.

The males in the crowd had watched with fascination as several OB nurses directed the guards in a mini-lesson of medical/surgical positioning with clinical precision. Diane's fully pregnant abdomen now formed a huge swollen mound at the center of the table, framed by her up-spread thighs. Her shaved pussy hung off one end of the table, spread so wide that some witnesses were afforded a clear shot view of her cervix.

Although Diane could not see them, she did hear the automatic doors open as her 16-year-old daughter Tracy was led completely naked into the room. Tracy and also just been shaved again, and, like her mother and Sara, had been administered an enema. Also like the other two females, she had not been allowed to eat or drink in the past 8 hours.

As Tracy was led into the room she caught a glimpse of her mom strapped down onto the strange table and began to cry. Once Diane heard her she also began to cry but said nothing.

The young, now nine-months pregnant teenager, not being as nearly as heavy as her mom, was strapped down in a slightly different position. Tracy's knees were strapped slightly closer to her torso, with her knees actually touching her underarms. Tracy's more flexible legs, thighs, and pelvis allowed her ankles to be fastened to a smaller, narrower metal bracket positioned above her head.

Once Diane and Tracy were securely strapped down to the modified obstetrical procedure tables, Sara Stahler was escorted in and stood before the gallery of witnesses. As she was escorted in, several male witnesses cleared their throats. It was very clear to everyone that this third very pregnant woman was strikingly beautiful, despite the fact that her body was still covered with whip marks. Sara was no doubt even more beautiful pregnant. Wexler had not mentioned that she was the only one of the three condemned females who had actually given birth vaginally.

Sara, being athletic and flexible, was also firmly strapped down in the same position as Tracy, with her knees tucked up under her underarms and her feet just over her head, her ankles slightly closer together than her knees. The knees and ankles were secured to matt-black-colored brackets fashioned from box-shaped tubular steel. In this position both Tracy and Sara's labial lips seemed to pout upward, whereas Diane's appeared more wide-open. Either way, the site of three pregnant condemned females with their shaved pussies spread wide before them surely aroused every straight male in the witness gallery.

Karen Schnell felt just a touch jealous, as she knew her husband would find the pregnant Sara, and possibly the other killers of her son, extremely attractive. She knew that Bill must surely be excited at the site of three women submissively positioned before him in such a vulnerable manner. But it was more insecurity than jealousy, for Karen certainly could not be jealous of anyone about to go through what Sara and the others were about to endure.

As the three condemned, belly-swollen women, moaned and wiggled against their extremely uncomfortable restraints, Warden Bowden stepped onto the floor of the punishment theater and began to speak. Karen Schnell could not hear her; her mind drifted elsewhere.

As Karen stared at the three females prepped and spread open before the gallery of witnesses, she thought of herself laying on a delivery table, her legs strapped into the high, wide obstetrical stirrups. Her mind had drifted to the delivery of her own lost son 10 years earlier. Karen remembered being shaved bare for her doctor, she remembered her legs being spread so wide as to expose her pussy to nearly every angle of the room. She remember the two handsome young medical students who stood and watched the birth, as she had delivered her son in a teaching hospital. She remembered the pain. She remembered the powerful drugs she had been given to abate the pain; a benefit she hoped Diane, Tracy, and Sara would not receive.

Warden Bowden entered the theatre and publicly read the three condemned women a review of their punitive sentence. She then turned and briefly addressed the witnesses, thanking them for their service. The moment Bowden finished speaking, Dr. Wexler gave a signal to one of his nurses, and the powerful hormone-based drug immediately began to pump into the clear plastic IV tubes.

Within three minutes Diane Howell, her daughter Tracy, and Sara Stahler were each moaning deeply and sweating heavily. As heavy labor rapidly commenced Dr. Wexler began walking from one spread pelvis to another, inspecting for changes in cervix dilation. Within minutes he announced that each female's cervix was dilated 4 cm.

Within 10 minutes all three women were screaming, crying and pleading for mercy at the top of their lungs. The rapid contractions were now just seconds apart as young Tracy began begging Dr. Wexler to stop the process. Sara, who was no better off, dripped with sweat and cried aloud like a little girl as she struggled in vain against the ankle straps which painfully held her feet up next to her head.

At 15 minutes an inanimate object began to crown between the edges of Diane's now stretched-thin pussy lips. Wexler signaled for his nurse to increase the hormone injection level on the other two females. As she did, Sara and Tracy each began to scream uncontrollably from the pain in an uncoordinated litany of horror as extreme uterine contractions ripped through their pelvises.

When Dr. Wexler's nurse handed him the two disarticulated, slightly spoon-shaped blades of the obstetrical forceps, few male members of the audience had any idea what the obstetrician/gynecologist was going to do with them. By contrast, many women in the gallery knew all too well that the OB/GYN was about to slide the flattened, oversized salad tongs deep into Diane Howell's vagina, working the obstetrical instrument deep into her intimate feminine folds.

Diane let out a deep cry of helplessness as Wexler wiggled and forced, one at a time, each of the two curved blades of the forceps deep into her vagina and interlocked them together around the football-shaped rubbery object. Placing one of his heels firmly against the base of the delivery table, Wexler leaned back away from Diane's pussy and pulled hard as she wailed at the top of her lungs in agony. Fine hairs stood up on the arms of every witness as the middle aged mom begged with unintelligible statements, her face distorting in horror.

As if fighting against the woman's deafening shrieking, on the third hard tug Wexler yanked the huge dense spongy object out from between Diane Howell's legs as blood dribbled onto the concrete floor.

Nurses bandaged Diane's pussy just before the guards unhooked her legs and lifted her exhausted, limp body onto an awaiting gurney. As she was wheeled from the theater Wexler turned his attentions to the youngest of the three females.

The audience now sat on a edge as Wexler regloved and had his nurse spread a small amount of clear lubricant over his fingers and fist. The condemned teen screamed for mercy and thrashed against the restraints as Wexler began to work for fingers into the virginal vagina.

“Nnnoooo” Tracey screamed, “Pleeez, no doc-turrrr,” her voice trailing off to a soft weep as she looked down between her legs and saw Wexler began to work his entire fist deep into her vagina. Despite the lubrication and his forceful pressure, Dr. Wexler was only able to work his fist halfway into the girl's shaved pussy. “There's no way of getting around the episiotomy” he thought.

Young Tracey was now in the full throws of heavy labor. Each extremely forceful contraction racked her slender body with even more intensity. As Karen Schnell watched Tracy's predicament, she sympathetically sweated along with the girl as Dr. Wexler readied his surgical instruments to perform an episiotomy .

Holding a pair of shiny, downward-pointing surgical scissors in his hand, Dr. Wexler stepped toward Tracy's shaved virgin pussy. For this episiotomy there would be no injection of numbing Xylocaine or other anesthetic measure. Wexler would simply insert the scissors into the lower opening of the Tracy's vagina and with one firm motion slice completely through the perineal tissue between the girl's vagina and anus, all in an attempt to facilitate the football's expulsion.

The shriek was as high pitched as any Bill Schnell had ever heard a human being make. Having made the cut just below the lower apex of Tracy's pussy lips, Dr. Wexler began to work the forceps blades, one at a time, deep into the tight inner walls of her virgin orifice.

Once both of the slightly spoon-shaped blades were completely inside the crying girl's vagina, Bill thought how unusual it looked to see two chrome handles sticking out of her clean-shaved pussy with her thighs pulled far back and spread apart.

Wexler then locked the two forceps blades together at their attachment point, gripping them around the body of the spongy football. Tracy moaned and cried even louder than her mother had as Wexler worked and tugged with the strange obstetrical tool in an attempt to bring the huge fake fetus down through the girl's vagina.

“No God, please God, please dear God, I'll do anything, anything you ask, I'll suck you all, I'll do anything you want, you can all rape me, you can fuck my ass, please oh God please no don't do this to me, I'll lick you ass doctor, PLEEESE” Tracy pleaded and screamed as Wexler, aided by a nurse, yanked the football from the tight vagina which had previously held nothing larger than a tampon.

Dr. Wexler quickly sewed up Tracy's episiotomy sans anesthesia before her pussy was bandaged and she was unstrapped and wheeled from the room on a gurney. The pain of Dr. Wexler's crescent-moon-shaped sewing needle was pale compared to what she had just been through.

As Tracy was being unstrapped, the sadistic Wexler moved on to Sara, who was now moaning with the deep contractions of late stage labor. Wexler bent over to look up her cunt-hole, then quickly stood up straight and put two fingers deep into her vagina to check her level of cervical dilation.

After withdrawing his fingers from Sara's pussy, Dr. Wexler turned and addressed the gallery, briefly explaining to them that since Sara had already given birth vaginally once before, he would not use forceps, but would simply increase the labor inducing drug and let things occur naturally.

As sympathetic as this may sound, to do this to Sara would actually in fact make her delivery more unbearable than Tracy's and Diana's had been. Wexler turned and nodded to a nurse, who immediately increased the flow from the IV so that more of the hormone based drug flowed into her veins.

Almost immediately Sara began to gnash her teeth and scream as ultra-strong, violent uterine contractions rippled through her torso as she laid spread out and strapped down before the gallery. She seemed to almost speak in tongues as she began cursing Wexler and the gallery of witnesses. Sara screamed and pleaded to God to save her as, before their eyes, the witnesses watched the football-like object appear in full view between her legs.

Sara's vulva were now stretched tightly thin and spread in a wide, near-perfect circle measuring nearly 12 centimeters across. Watching the sweat covered Sara, most of the men in the audience wonder just how much size a human pussy was actually able to take, seeing as how this one was stretched out as if it were being fucked by two fists at the same time.

When the football dropped onto the floor, the gallery of witnesses may have thought that Sara Stahler's ordeal was over for the day, but that notion was immediately put to rest has a huge, African, stripped-to-the-waist, black-leather- pants-wearing whipmaster walked onto the execution chamber floor.

Without any prompting from Dr. Wexler, and without any further announcements to the witnesses, the nurses stretched a tight, heavy gauge surgical glove over the black whipmaster's right fist and forearm and began lubricating it.

The whipmaster walked up to Sara and quickly plunged his entire fist as deep as he could into her now gaping vagina and without delay began to rapidly fist fuck the sweat-covered, screaming mom. As the witnesses watched in disbelief the African rammed his huge fist deep into the attractive woman for a good 10 minutes, completely removing it only to forcefully slam it back in on numerous occasions. At this point Sara was speechless, her gaping mouth the only sign of her in vain attempt and verbal expression.

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Bill and Karen Schnell held hands and spoke softly during the 90 minute limo ride back to their hotel in Las Vegas. It had been a long, emotionally exhausting week so far, but also a sexually energizing one full of intensely erotic moments.

They talked quietly in the back of the darkened, chauffeured car, casually chatting about what they had witnessed over the past few days; the reactions of the condemned, the reactions of the other witnesses, even the efficiency of the facility and its staff.

As they rode on through the moonlit desert, Karen slid over close to her husband and began whispering in his ear as she gently rubbed his cock through his trousers.

“What did you think of the fisting today, Bill” she would quiz, followed by “What did you think when you first saw those three executed females hanging by their ankles in the organ harvest room yesterday, Bill? They were hanging there all spread and shaved for you honey, weren't they?” she smiled and questioned as she continued to rub her husband's cock.

Before each whisper Karen would glance up into the rearview mirror to make sure that the limo driver had his eyes on the road.

While she continued to stroke Bill during the long commute, her conversation shifted to her own experience with childbirth. Gently rubbing the head of his swollen cock with one finger, Karen leaned up to Bill's ear and whispered that she wanted to have another baby, she wanted to be strapped down just like the women they had seen today. Her sexy talk made Bill's cock even harder.

As soon as the door of their darkened hotel room closed, Bill, who was about to burst from the hour of cock teasing he had just endured, grabbed his wife and kissed her passionately as he simultaneously pulled up her skirt and groped her crotch through her old fashioned white cotton panties. Karen pushed him away and then quickly began to strip in front of him in the dim light.

Without a word Bill threw Karen onto her back and spread her legs, roughly pulling her knees up to the sides of her chest before sucking wildly on her clit as if he were a thirsty man eating a cool, ripe watermelon. She soon reached an intense, screaming orgasm.

“Fuck me hard Bill” Karen begged as Bill pulled her knees up tight and placed the bottom of her feet against his chest before slamming his dripping, thick dick deep into her pussy. The muscular contractor pounded with his pelvis as hard as he possibly could as he listened to his wife scream not unlike the women in labor.

As her head thrashed from side to side in the torment of her husband's hard fucking, Karen was happy, more happy than she had been in years. In just a few days she'd watch her son's killers die.