Sisters

I turned my head as best I could. I could hear the ragged breathing of my sister Sara in the semi darkness of the stinking basement and I made what I thought was a sympathetic mmmphing noise. She stirred and made a similar sound in return and despite my horrific circumstances I felt a familiar warmth spread over my belly. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs how much I despised the terrifying religious cult that our family had been taken in by, but the last time I did it they had come in and stuffed my mouth with a tennis ball. My lovely Sara winked at me through the gloom with her good eye and I waved my unbroken fingers at her, as much as the vicious cable tie would allow.
We were both in the same position, with our necks attached to the wall by a metal band which was screwed into the concrete up against which we leaned. Our behinds were about three inches off the ground, supported by our aching legs and prevented from sitting on the floor by the bands round our throats. To add to this agony we had a two inch nail driven into each of our heels, preventing any relief we may have gained by being able to put our feet flat on the floor. We had been in this position for ten hours and our nostrils were full of the acrid smell of our stale urine.
I thought back to happier times, to the big old house of our happy childhood with it’s ivy covered walls and the gravel drive that always announced the return of our parents; giving us time to remove our fingers from each others underwear. Everyone just thought we were inseparable friends ‘God I wish mine got along like your two’ our mother would smile and pour more tea. There was a year or so between us, so in school we were in separate classes, but we would meet up at break times and hide away somewhere, or lay on the school field stealing kisses and fondlings. Sara took a gap year after school and so we went up to uni together, naturally we shared a room, our books, our clothes, our bed, our dildo and a huge amount of bodily fluids…
The metal door creaked open and the light from beyond silhouetted the form of a hooded man accompanied by the bitch from the cult, the skinny one with the far away look on her shiny smug face. They walked slowly towards us, as the door clanged shut behind them.
‘This man will be your executioner, if he is treated properly I’m sure he will be predisposed to ensuring your swift passage to wherever disgusting bitches like you go. If not… well let’s just say hanging isn’t always the quickest way to go. You have two hours to persuade him to be nice’
Two hours later he was gone and we were barely alive. He had fucked us and beaten us and cut us and done all manner of unspeakable things to our young bodies, which now resembled something from a butcher’s block. I looked down at the large knife wound in my breast and the blood and semen that trickled slowly and thickly from deep inside. Sara moaned and I tried to crawl to her over the sticky red floor and various fleshy parts that littered it. Eventually I managed to get my face to hers and cried as I saw her weak smile in the gloom.
The next day we were hanged.
They took us from the charnel house very early. Neither of us could walk so they dragged us along with our ruined feet leaving a trail of blood from the door to the gallows. There were a few of the self righteous fuckers there to watch, their bibles in their hands pressed against their chests and their glowing faces lifted towards a place where sisters don’t fuck each other.
They left us for a moment lying on the wooden boards beneath the nooses and despite the excruciating pain from my destroyed body and my black fingerless hands still bound behind me, I managed to get my bloody cunt onto my lovely Sara’s and with my tongue deep in her toothless mouth we frantically ground our pussies together. I wonder if there were some there that day that would have granted us one last orgasm, well they kept very quiet and the next thing we knew we were being held upright and the ropes were tightening around our necks.
No trapdoors here, no swift snap of the neck, just a stool to stand on and then a slow eye popping, pissing, shitting, bleeding, gasping, lung bursting and agonising decent into a long painful death.
We tried desperately to stay standing on our mutilated feet as the hooded man came forward, in his hand he held a rope attached to each of the stools on which we trembled. Then from the small crowd our mother appeared and hope for a moment blazed in our wretched hearts, but it was cruelly and devastatingly extinguished when she reached up and took the black hood from… our father’s head.
He pulled sharply on the ropes