Copyright 2001 Topcat''s Tales and deathmistress.com
 
 
 
Wronged Lovers
By
Gabby/TopCat

 
   When she came to her senses, Mary, was holding a knife covered in blood. Before her was her husband lying dead in a pool of blood. Mary wasn’t sure if she had killed him or not, if so she didn’t care.
 
   Naked, she walked slowly, dazed, to the shower. She stepped in and turned on only the cold water. The tall red head ran her hand over her medium breast as the water cascaded the blood from them. Mary’s nipples stood eerily erect from the cold water. To a passerby she might have been aroused.
 
 Stepping from the shower she toweled dry her tall lean body. Her robe hung in its usual place on the back of the bathroom door. The pink robed seemed to accent her long red hair. Stepping from that bathroom her eyes fell to the man lying on the floor. Her face showed no emotions
 
   Mary picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number, there was a muted ringing and then a bored female voice on the other end, “911, how may I help you?”
 
   “I just killed my husband,” she said calmly.
 
   “Ma’am…pardon?”
 
   Mary’s voice sounding more exasperated than nervous, “ I said I killed my husband. I just stabbed him. Do you need the address or do you have it already?”
 
   The voice sounding skeptical asked, “ Is this two-two-one Sycamore?”
 
   “Yes”
 
   “We will have a car there in a few minutes. Just remain calm.” The voice said in the usual official manner.
 
   Mary sat on the couch and waited. When the police arrive they were a wave of excitement and chatter. They battered her with question but she would only tell them that she has killed him. Hours later the fingerprints on the knife backed up her statement.
 
   The trial was short and sweet. The court appointed lawyer had tried to prove Mary was mentally unfit to stand trial. Mary aced every psychological test they threw at her. The test proved she was anything but mentally unstable. As the verdict was handed down the judge gave Mary, what seemed, a knowing look.  The bailiff called for the defendant to rise. Mary stood, straightening her jail issued skirt and jacket.  The judge looked only at Mary and said almost kindly, “From the testimony of your friends, which you have many, you have lived a hard life with your deceased husband. I’ve read the media reports that he may have deserved what he got. I can’t agree that anyone deserves death, but I do understand.”
 
The judge paused, looking through her papers and then over the courtroom. She then turned her attention back to Mary, “I’m going to depart from the usual court procedure and give you one last chance to make a comment. Without testimony from you, you are making my decision very difficult.”
 
   Mary stood a little straighter and looked, unblinking into the judge’s eyes. “I killed my husband and deserve what ever punish you deem fitting.”
 
   The judge stiffened and cleared her throat, “ Then…on that note I hear by sentence you to die in the electric chair. The day will be one month form this one. In the mean time you will be remanded to the South Carolina department of prisons in Columbia. Court dismissed!”
 
   Guards came were quickly at Mary’s side, roughly they jerked her hands behind her back and shackled them together. One of the guards was a woman, slightly taller than Mary and probably fifty pounds heavier. She pushed Mary toward the door, “ I know your kind and I’ve got a lot to offer you.”
 
   Mary was surprised to see the butch looking guard wink at the judge. The judge replied with a smile, the knowing one she had given to Mary earlier.
 
   It was a six-hour drive to the prison. She was shackled to a bench in the back of a van type truck with six other women. The other women stared at Mary most of the trip. She knew the reason why. The Orange jumpsuit with the back stripe on the arm marked her for the death chamber. One of the other prisoners, a short squat woman with blonde hair said, “ I’m Mazy, I do the cleaning in the death ward. You’ll be seeing a lot of me and some of my…err…friends.” Some of the other girls laughed knowingly at the comment.
 
   Mary Snatched at her shackles, “ You and your friends are welcome. I’m about to die so there isn’t a lot you can do to me.”
 
   Mazy roared with laughter, “You just keep thinking that honey. We have met girls with a mouth like yours and they ended up begging for the chair.” There was a loud rap on the front of the tuck, a guard shouted, “hold it down in there or I’ll have to come back there
 
To Mary’s delight the rest of the ride was quiet. The silence may have been due more to the South Carolina July heat than the guard’s weak threat.
 
   The prison was built in the eighteen hundreds by the very people who were destined to live in it. It stood on a hill, dark depressing gray. At first look it appeared to be a castle of some medieval castle with hidden dungeons. In reality it isn’t far from being just that.   You could barely see the prison it self above the massive gray walls and gun towers that jutted from the earth like some medieval rocket of granite.
 
   Mary took a deep breath of cooler air as the Van’s rear doors were slung open. Compared to the oven of the truck the hundred-degree summer heat of the south felt cool. The prisoners were dragged from the truck and led away. Mary was separated from the rest and taken into a build, from its new appearance, must be the offices. When the door opened a blast of cold air hit her full in the face and her knees buckled from the shock. A burly female guard held her firm and ushered her onward.
 
   There was a long hall line with doors. At the end of the hall was a larger door that was much more decorative than the rest. Mary guessed this was the warden’s office. Her guess had turned out to be right but she was perplexed as to why she was being taken there. The new prisoner had talked to enough x-convicts to know this treatment was unusual. Nary had done her homework well.
 
   Inside the office was more than the expensive decorative door had suggested.  The opulence was more than should have been in a typical warden’s office. In her line of work as ambassador, she had seen the inside of many palaces, yet this small office impressed her with the detail of the décor. Behind the large mahogany desk sat a petite woman with her back turned away from the door and looking out the large window that showed every inch of the prison courtyard. Her hair as cut short, just above her shoulders. Despite being short the style let anyone wonder that she was feminine.
 
   The chair slowly spun in its place till the petite woman was facing Mary. Her brown eyes were wide and inquisitive. She spun abruptly in the black chair that matched the feminine suit she wore. The warden placed her feet on the desk, exposing her black nylon clad shapely legs. Her small feet were incased in moderately heeled pumps. It seemed forever that she only looked at Mary and finally said. “You are much prettier than the pictures in your file, what a shame.”
 
   Mary did not react to the warden’s flattering remark. Her beauty or lack there of is of no importance in the death chamber. She just wanted to get out of the office and go to her cell. The warden stood and walked around to the front her desk, “Guard, wait outside.”
 
   Without questioning the guard left the room and closed the door. The guard moved till she was only inches from Mary and reached up and kissed her on the lips, her hands being careful not to touch her. Mary did not return the kiss or react outwardly in any manner. Inside the kiss kindled a fire that, with little ease, could grow out of control.
 
   The Warden said in a low hoarse voice. “You a tough one, huh?”  She stretched upward to kiss the inmate again. This time slipping her tongue into her mouth as one hand moved up to stroke one of Mary’s breast. The wardens smiled inwardly as her finger found hardened a nipple.
 
 Breathlessly the warden took Mary by the arm and led her around the ornate desk and sat, “Now lets see if you are worth bringing to my office. Kneel and use that cute mouth of yours on my rose.”
 
   Mary stood, acting if she had not heard the warden. It was not that she found the warden unattractive, she was just not her for the sex. The warden stood and slammed her tiny fist hard into the inmate’s stomach. Mary bent over, her hands straining against the shackles, to grab for her painful stomach. She dropped to her knees, gasping for breath.
 
   A mischievous smile spread on the warden’s face, “Ahhh… this is much better.”
 
   Mary was looked up peer between the warden’s spread thighs. The black nylons she wore stopped at mid thigh and were attached to black lace garters, with red trim. Feeling ill from the blow to her stomach, Mary only looked at the pussy that she was suppose to taste.
 
   “Well? Get to it girl.”
 
   Mary started to move but was too slow. The warden grabbed her behind the head and slammed her face into the, already moist, pussy. She was held so tight to it that she could not breath. Grasping for breath she pushed her tongue out and tasted her juices. The expected pleasure caused the petite brutish woman to relax her grip and Mary grabbed for air.
 
   “YES, that’s the way girl. You keep that up and your stay here will be a lot more pleasant.  It took only seconds for an orgasm to begin to build within the warden’s loins. Her breathing began to get quicker and heavier. Mary used every skill she knew to bring the Warden to the brink of orgasm. Just as she was about to fall over the edge, Mary bit with all her might, coming away with the warden’s clit in her teeth.
 
   The shocked woman’s screams filled the room but no guards rushed to her aid. They had become use to the sounds of pain and ecstasy emanating from the office. “YOU BITCH,” screamed the irate warden.
 
   Mary spat the warden’s own bloody clit in her face; small droplets of blood scattering on her perfectly made up face. For the first time Mary spoke to the warden, “I don’t need this shit!” She stood and stormed to the door, leaving the warden sitting in stunned silence, “Get me the fuck out of here.”
 
   The guards rushed into the room and stopped in shock as they surveyed the scene. Word of the warden with her legs skirt over her thighs and blood flowing form here her clit use to be, would circulate the prison for years.
 
   The stunned guards came to their senses and took hold of Mary as the warden found her voice and screamed, “Put her in the hole…and make sure Bertha tends to her.” The guards smiled knowingly and led the woman away.
 
   To get to the hole, they had to traverse the largest cellblock in the prison. Somehow word of the innocent had spread thus far. The blood that still lingers on Mary’s mouth caused the inmates to act as blood to a wild animal. Chants roared through the steel and concrete building. As high as Mary could see women waved and shouted from their cells.
 
   An older woman with long gray hair and no teeth pushed against the bars, “come her honey, let me taste the warden’s clit blood.” A guard hammered the bars just as the old woman stepped back.
 
   At the end of the block stood a woman a head taller than Mary and at least one hundred pounds heavier stepped to block Mary and her two guards. She kissed mary full on the lips, driving her tongue deep into her mouth, “So that’s what the warden’s blood taste like. I can’t wait to see what yours is like.”
 
   “Move aside, Bertha, “The larger of the two female guards said.
 
   “Sure darlings.” As they passed Bertha shouted, “I’ll see you later tonight, man killer.”
 
   Bertha was one of the lifer trustees that roamed the prison at will. No one knew why Bertha got her way. Even the guards were afraid of her. The warden could have most women in the prison willingly. What could it be about Berth that gave her the power she held?
 
   The room that was called the hole was a room four feet wide by six feet long. Standing at the door the guard announced, “Strip them off, missy.”
 
   Mary turned to look at the blonde who was tall but slim, Her breasts were large for her build, no doubt silicone. Mary said, “Pardon?”
 
   “Off with the jumpers dearie, nothing allowed in the hole but you.” Mary unzipped her jumpsuit, first exposing her breast and then pushing it over her well-formed hips. She could feel the guards staring at her body as she felt a cold breeze. Mary wrapped her arms over her breast, not to hide them but to try and keep warm.
 
   One of the guards laughed, “Hell of a place down here, you never know if it’s going to freeze your ass off or burn you up. Oddly its never comfortable.”
 
   They shoved her in to the dark too and slammed the solid steel door shut. As the lock latched it echoed through the long empty hallway.  There was no bed in the small cell so Mary culled her naked body in a corner against the rough concrete.
 
   Huddled in the corner she shivered and knew she would not have to endure long. The judge had set a quick execution date.  Mary’s mind melted into the past. She was standing in the hallway, home early from work. She called out, “Mark?”
 
There was no answer. Figuring he was late at work she slipped of her shoes and walked across the carpet in her stocking feet. At the end of a long day there was nothing better than to shed the shoes. She pulled of her blouse as she turned to the hall that led to the welcomed shower. As she was about to turn on the water she heard sounds, again she called out, “Mark, is that you?”
 
   Still there was no answer. Feeling nervous she heads in the direction of the sound. The door to her bedroom was nearly closed which was odd. She peeped in, fearing a burglar and nearly fainted from shock. On the bed naked was Mark with Amanda. Her knees began to buckle, Mary fought to maintain reality.  This cannot be happening, the distraught woman thought.
 
   Some how she managed to maintain her balance and worked her way back up the hallway Mary managed to make it to the couch before she collapsed. She then heard footsteps pad up the hallway; they were too small to be a man. The distraught woman looked to see Amanda enter, wearing only a short bathrobe, Mary’s. The two looked at each other, each seeing the hurt in the other’s eyes.
 
   Amanda slid into an empty spot on the couch beside Mary and then began to cry. The two had been friends since they were children. They had been lover for the past five years. Amanda pulled her lover toward her and through the tears kissed her passionately. Mary weakly tried to push her life long friend away.
 
   It had been only two days before when Mary and approached her husband with the divorce papers. He began to scream, “This so you can run off with that whore girl friend of yours? I’ll make you regret the day you ever met me and show you what a whore Amanda is.”
 
   Mary gathered her strength and pushed her lover away. “Please leave now.”
 
   “But…But...”
 
   The distraught lover and wife push a finger to Amanda’s lips and said, “Shhhh. We can talk tomorrow.”
 
   With a final kiss Amanda gathered her clothes, which lay scattered around the living room floor, and left. Mary walked to the Kitchen decorated in Mary’s favorite flowers, pansies. In the third drawer she found the set of chef’s knives that Amanda had given her for Christmas the past year.
 
   The knife felt cold in her hand as she walked down the wall and into the bedroom she and her husband had shared for the last ten years. He had been right; it was Amanda that she was leaving for. The bastard had spoiled everything in her life, now, including Amanda.
 
   When she entered the bedroom he laid sprawled naked on the bed. There was that smirk on his face that he always had hen he had gotten his way. Mary stood at the side of the bed, knife hidden, “You knew this would hurt me more than anything in the world.”
 
   “I told you she was a whore. Getting her in bed was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. To be a lesbian she liked dick awfully well,” He gloated.
 
   He saw the knife coming and tried to get his arm up to block it, which he did partially. The knife exploded into his chest, an inch from his cold heart. Before she could correct her aim he slammed her back against the wall. He slid weakly from the bed and walked to the living room. When Mary entered the room he held the telephone in his hand. This time shame made sure the knife found its mark as it slid into his hear. Through the knife she could feel his heart trying to beat. His eyes were wide with disbelief as she fell lifestyle to the floor. Her knees buckled and she collapsed to them, beside her dead husband.
 
   “Hey whore, its dinner time.” A gruff voice sounded in the dark, cutting through her memories.
 
   Even In the dark she could tell the food on the plate was rotten. It might be best that she could not see it. Still she knew before the week was out she would be eating whatever they pushed though the hole. Starvation has a way of doing that. Mary threw the plate back toward the small beam of light that was the serving window. Her aim must have been dead on because she heard the voice outside let out a curse.
 
   There was some shuffling and more voices. After several minutes the door opened and she shielded her eyes from the blinding light. The voice had belonged to the inmate they called Bertha. She kicked Mary hard in her pussy and said, “Lets see how you’ll like your food in few days after have fun with the warden’s special little toy.”
 
   Mary noticed the guard with Bertha held something in her hand. It looked to be a modern day chastity belt, with some added hardware. In the crotch were two metal probes about six inches in length. The guard rushed into the small cell and held her firmly to the floor as Bertha slid the device up Mary’s legs and then over her smooth thighs. The prisoner let out a small groan as the probe was pushed roughly up her ass. The other slid, with slightly less pain as I was pushed forcefully into her dry pussy. With the device strapped firmly around her hips they pulled her from the floor.  Hidden in the dark there were two chains hanging from the wall.  They held her up and attached a shackle to each tiny wrist

Bertha laughed as she closed the massive steel door, “I can’t wait to see you in a few after a few weeks of this, if you are still alive.”
 
   Mary only smiled at the thought of death. Life had taken everything that she had loved.  She thought she could have taken anything, yet Amanda was her one weakness. If she had professed her love before she had met her husband, none of this would have ever happened.
 
 “AYYYYEEEE,” she screamed as the first shock tore through her abdomen. Mary found out what the chastity belt was for. The pain was worse than anything she had ever experienced before; yet there was something within that craved it. Somewhere lost in he agony was excitement, gratification.
 
   The pain subsided and she relaxed into the shackles that bound her to the cold concrete wall. They cut into her wrist but the shock had caused her knees to become to weak to support her. Seconds, minutes or ours passed when another shock ripped through her. The screams echoed the length of the long hall and out through the massive steel door to the desk where the guard sat. She smiled and continued working the crossword puzzle that lay on her desk.
 
   What must have been days later her weight was fully on her shackled bound wrist? Blood flowed from the deep cuts caused by the rusty iron shackles biting into her once perfect flesh.  The shocks no longer registered in her tormented mind. In the dark shroud that comes to protect the mind she remembered something. Did she have an orgasm or was it a memory? The answer was forth coming.
 
   The door to the small cell opened and it was the guard that helped lock her there and Bertha. They both laughed at the site before them and the guard said excitedly, “Look at her pussy. She has been Cumming.”  On her legs was a mix of blood from the shackles wounds, urine and love juices.
 
   Bertha said to the guard, “I guess we got her just in time, the bitch was starting to enjoy herself.”
 
   When the shackles were opened she fell in a heap on the floor. The tow women took her arms and dragged her from the cell. The guard grunting from pulling the dead weight, “The warden wants her healthy for the party next week.”
 
   “Yea, so do I.”
 
   Mary woke in, what appeared to be some type of infirmary.  Her wrists were covered in white sterile bandages. Her arms ached as if they had been pulled from their sockets, she could barely move them.  A pain deep inside of her abdomen reminded her of the terrible shocks. The inmate felt something inside her ass and pussy. She pushed through the pain and sat up, pulling back the covers. Her fingers were about to touch the white material sticking out of her pussy when a gruff voice shouted, “Get you hands away from there missy.  You got some very bad burns in there. Damn Bertha had the juice turned up too high. It’s a damned wonder you still alive.”
 
   Mary lay back down and closed her eyes. She would wake only to eat for the next several days. It could have been the sedative but mostly it was her body rebelling and shutting down.
 
   The sun was shining through and open window. Mary inhaled fresh air for the first time in weeks. Her head clearing, she sat up and then noticed seated in a chair by the wall was the warden. She had on the same suit she had the day Mary had arrived. Mary secretly laughed and wondered if she bitch had even washed it.
 
   The warden stood and the familiar click on her heels on the concrete floor announced her travel. She leaned down and kissed Mary sensually on the lips, “Its about damn time you woke. I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay with us but I am sad to say it is about to some to an end.”
 
   Had there been some kind of appeal, Mary thought. It can’t be time for he execution because that usually takes months, sometimes years to come about.  The warden continued teasingly, “There have been a few developments in your case. Some…err… new developments have come about…some new evidence.”
 
   “What kind of new evidence? I confessed and they have the weapon.”
 
   The warden smiled knowingly, “So they do. Come along with mew and I’ll fill you in.”
 
The ache in her body was horrible but she found her weak legs, to her surprise, holding her up.  They walked slowly, the warden not seeming to be in a hurry. Acting as if losing her place in the story she said, “Oh yes, where were we? Ahhh we were talking about the evidence. You weren’t alone that night with your husband, were you?”
 
   Mary thought back to the vision of Amanda in bed with Mark. She hesitated and lied, “No, there was no one there but he and I.”
 
   “So you keep saying” They found their way to a door that had a sign reading “Preparation area.” Inside the Warden directed her to have a seat.
 
   Mary looked around the room and saw barber supplies. Realizing this is not the usual room she had met her lawyer in. She asked, “I’m going to see my lawyer in here?”
 
   The warden laughed, “You really are naïve. What ever gave you the notion that you were going to see a lawyer?”
 
   “You said something about new evidence.”
 
   “You really are stupid, “I only, said there was new evidence in your case; I never said it was about you.”
 
   Bertha entered the room and put on a apron. The warden gave her a sly smile and said, “Take good care of this one, she is special.”
 
   “Of course Ma’am. I’ll treat her as if she is my own.”
 
   They joined in a chorus of laughter. No doubt the hidden joke was on Mary.
 
   A woman wearing a prisoner’s smock entered the room and took position behind the chair. In a mocking tone Bertha, “Give the lady a style that is…say…a bit shorter.”
 
   The short heavyset woman with more gray than the dark black locks she had as a young girl. Too many years had left her tired and not caring. She only did what it took to get by with few problems. She replied to the dyke. “Yes Ma’am.”
 
   The sounds of the scissors began to make a practiced rhythmic sound.  Mary saw full lengths of her hair land in her lap. She jerked away, “What the hell you doing bitch? I’m going to die, I at least want my hair when I go.”
 
   “Sorry Miss, it’s the rules, Ma’am.” Replied the Matronly inmate.
 
   The guard shouted at the meek woman, “Shut your trap and just keep working. I would love to see her head turned into the fireball but there are the fire codes.” She took a step toward Mary and before she could react a fist slammed into her face, just under her right eye. The room began to spin and she sank back into the chair, “Better be glad it was me and not Bertha.”
 
   When all the hair had been clipped short an electric razor was put to work. It carved wide furrows through what use to be her most important asset. Still dazed she sat with her head hanging slightly. It took only minutes for the instrument of her torture was through with its ungainly work.
 
   Her sense has cleared by the time the cut was through. She rubbed her hands over her baldhead. Her hands were warm to her chilled scalp. She wondered how men were able to keep their head hairless.
 
   On the way out of the room Mary caught a glance of herself in the mirror. Her eye was already turning purple but it was her hairless reflection that caught her attention. The removal of her hair seemed to strip away a good part of her femininity.
 
   A priest joined them at the door and Mary instantly knew what this mean. Some how the execution had been expiated. This suited Nary, she was ready to get it over with. That night in her apartment, anything worth living for ended. 
 
   They began the long walk known as the last mile. The priest began his typical soul saving rhetoric. Her, own, cloth shoes made no sound on the tiled floor but the others echoed hauntingly.  The small incongruous group made the short walk to the death chamber.
 
The door to the Death chamber was thicker and stronger than all the other doors in the prison. Upon entering Mary noticed the empty archaic looking chair she would soon be seated in.  In the room there was an identical chair. What was strapped in it is what caused Mary to call out. “AMANDA!”
 
   Her mouth was gagged tightly, causing the blood in the girl’s face to pull way from it and leaving a white ring around the gag.  Her head had been shaved just as Mary’s had. The warden arching her back and tossing her shoulders unnaturally back with pride said, “I see you know her. Oh stupid me…that’s right she was your lover till she was caught fucking your, now dead, husband.  It seems you left a few details out of your trial; like your lover there helping you kill your husband.”
 
   Mary interrupted screaming. “That’s a lie. She was not even there when it happened. Who is telling this outrageous lie?”
 
   The warden motioned to the burly female guard and she walked over to Amanda and removed her gag. Amanda inhaled the dank, but refreshing air of the death chamber. She wanted to rub her face to ease the stinging of the blood rushing back to the places it had been denied.  It seemed minutes but it was only seconds after the gag was removed that she said, “You didn’t have to lie for me. I confessed to sneaking back in the house that night and helping you kill Mark for raping me.”
 
   “He raped you?”
 
   Amanda let the truth of the night roll around in her mind and continued, “I was waiting for you to come home when Mark asked me if I wanted a drink. We sat on the couch talking, more calmly that usual. I was happy he was finally accepting the divorce. I got sleepy and was going to go in your room and take a nap. The next things I knew you were standing in the doorway.”
 
   “Oh my god Amanda, I am so sorry. I should have known you would never do anything to hurt me. WHAT HAVE I DONE,” She sobbed?
 
   “It doesn’t matter that went on that night, it’s what going to happen tonight that matters, “ The warden smirked.
 
   Mary shouted in desperation, “She is lying…she wasn’t there. Why are you doing this Amanda?”
 
   A tear ran down the shattered lover’s cheek, “Because I love you. Without you there is no reason for living. Lets travel to eternity together my love.”
 
   Mary broke from the guard and ran to Amanda, throwing her arms around her.  In the two seconds of the kiss the passion was more intense than any they had ever shared. As she was dragged away and to her own waiting chair of death she said, “I love you till the end of eternity. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you. I’m sorry for not believing in you.”
 
   Tears streamed down her face, as she was strapped into the chair. Her legs were spread, gaping open the prison smock she wore. The air was cool against her pussy, causing her clit to harden slightly. The guard strapped her legs to the chair so tight they ached. The inmate sat there unable to move no part of her body. Even her head was strapped securely to the chair. A damp cloth was placed on top of the shaved head of the women. A leather and metal hood was lowered and a strap passed under the chin, securing it firmly to their heads.
 
   The warden cleared the room, “OUT everyone. I want to talk to these two alone. Cut the microphones coming in here.” When she was out and sure the microphones had been turned off she paced slow from one girl to the other and said,  “The both of your deaths are going to give me a lot of satisfaction. You slut whore, I know you weren’t there when my brother was killed.”
 
   Both girls sat stunned. There was no way this woman could have been Mark’s Sister. Mary had met, what she thought was, all of his family at the wedding.  The warden, as if reading their minds, “I wasn’t at the family. The family shunned me and was so happy when they found you were going to marry my brother; all were happy but me. I was in love with my brother, even if he would not return my feelings. He told me about the impending divorce. I hated you for taking him from me, from hurting him. I hated him for not loving me like he should have.”
 
   Built up tension pouring out with her words pushed the warden to go on, “ I convinced him to rape that slut whore lover of yours. I was there that night. I gave him the drug from the prison infirmary. I helped him carry her to the bedroom. I was hiding in the closet when you killed my brother. The three of you are getting what you deserve.”
 
   Mary was about to speak when the warden waved her arm and a jolt of electricity shot through Amanda. Her screams were agonizing to Mary. Small wisp of smoke came from between Amanda’s legs. The warden sneered at Mary and said, “I want you to hurt like I did when my bother died. I want you to know what its like to watch someone you love die slowly and brutally.”
 
  
 
Another jolt racked through Amanda, this one lasting longer. Urine began to flow from under her smock. It trickled over the edge of the chair and formed a pool on the concrete floor. Mary sobbed as she saw what was happening to her beautiful lover.
 
   The last jolt was longer than it should have been. Smoke spilled out of her open mouth, her eyes and ears. Brown burned splotches begin to appear on her arms and legs. Her body jerked savagely against the straps, breaking bones. Mary could hear each time a bone snapped. Fear gripped the inmate, knowing the same was about to happen to her.
 
   Mary felt the first jolt of electricity run through her body. Through the pain she saw the satisfied look on the warden. She felt her bladder give way and the warm liquid running along her thighs. She pictured it hitting the floor as it had with Amanda. The second jolt ran through her.
 
  
 
The end.