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Coffee Break Story

Her Moment on Stage

By XP Author

The crowd was loud. Impatient. Excited. They wanted their show. She was going to give it to them. It exited her, as well. Only seven steps stood between her and her destination. Each step she took up the stairs made her that much more anxious, but in a good way. She could tell the soldiers that escorted her were just as excited. If they were lucky, they may be a part of the show she was about to put on. The two were canines, though she was not familiar enough to pick the breed. Something with short, dark brown fur.

Five steps left. She could see just over the edge of the platform. She only saw the edge of the crowd, and only the tops of their heads. They lined the wide city street far beyond the main plaza. There were many sitting atop the rooftops, too.

Three steps left. She could see more of the crowd. There were so many, it filled the plaza. The whole crowd moved back and forth, a wave of fur and hair and emotion, like an ocean of people. They were all here to see her. She felt her heart beating in her chest even harder.

Only one step left. The crowd spotted her. Someone shouted, then everyone followed suit. They shouted angry insults, lewd comments, excited cheers, and sorrowful wails. So much mixed emotion. She felt for them. Each and every one. They were her subjects... at least they had been until this morning.

She took the last step, walking out onto the platform. Center stage. She stood proudly, her naked body exposed to everyone, unashamed. Pure white fur, like falling snow, covered the mouse's body. Her thin tail betrayed her excitement, twitching back and forth behind her. The juices that ran down her bare leg also betrayed her stoic stance. Her hands remained at her sides, though she flexed her fingers just a little. Bright blue eyes gazed out at the audience. She could not help but smile, despite herself.

A man stepped forward towards her. A tall ox bull, the horns atop his head sticking outwards before turning at a near right angle to stand straight up, ending in a point that looked sharpened to be lethal. He towered over her, taller than even the two soldiers that had escorted her up the stairs. He wore the a black robe, tied at the middle by a red cloth. Emblazoned upon the left breast was a stylized elk skull in red, holding an arrow in its teeth, with a pair of silver swords crossed behind. The symbol for the church of Zanduchi, god of hunting and fertility. The patron deity of assassins and executioners, as well. It was also her chosen god.

She knew the man who stepped closer. It was Father Gil McBecken, one of the head priests for his church in the capital city. She had been to many of his sermons, much to her parents' chagrin. She turned her head to give him the same smile she gave the crowd. His own expression was a mix of thankfulness and apologetic. When he spoke, his voice was low, for only her to hear. It rumbled like thunder in her ears. "Thank you for behaving on your way here, Princess."

She let a single chuckle escape. "Father Gil, I am no princess today. I am a sacrifice for the well-being of the people." Her smile turned to a slight smirk. "And to Zanduchi. Be sure to treat me as such."

The man smiled back to her, though she saw the sorrow in his expression. "You would have made a fine ruler." She also caught the lustful gaze he gave her, his eyes staring for just a moment too long at her bared chest. She kept her smirk, but did not say anything. Instead, she turned back to look at the crowd. There were so many voices out there, she could not make out what any one person was saying for more than a few words. She heard her name spoken many times in many tones. Angry, sorrowful, regretful, and even lustfully.

Father Gil stepped forward and raised his hands. The noise died down to a dull din. When he spoke, his voice was loud and clear. "We are here to witness the final moments of Princess Francine Trevier de Vesta, age 20." He motioned to the side. "Or should I say queen?" There was some laughter, and some jeers. To the side he motioned to were what was left of her parents' bodies. Both were stripped just as naked as she. Her father's body was slumped at the edge of the stage, his belly sliced open, intestines spilled out into his lap. His head was jammed onto the top of a wooden pole, the spike bursting out just above his forehead. His mother's limbs had been removed, sat in a pile before a pair of wooden poles. Her torso was spiked onto one of the poles, jammed through her vagina and out of her neck. Her head sat atop the other pole, the spike coming out of her mouth. Both were covered in not only blood, but semen.

She had watched the abuse of her mother's corpse, the soldiers raping it as the limbs were removed, spraying their seed upon the ample breasts. It would have horrified most. It only excited her. Staring now, it excited her even more. She would join them soon. The voice of Father Gil brought her out of her thoughts. "Francine. You are the last living royalty in what used to be known as Vesta." Both she and he knew this was not true. She had a younger sister, secreted away some weeks ago by the church itself. Only 12 years old, the church agreed she was far too young for such a public display. As far as everyone knew, the young girl died suddenly of illness. Little Talia may yet save the country.

The ox continued. "For this, the Republic of Jyn, our new rulers, has decreed you must die. Have you any last words to the people?"

She nodded. "I do." She spoke just as loud and clearly as the father. Possibly more so. Despite her light voice, it carried. "I die for all of you. So you may know peace. Do not feel sorrow. I accept my fate willingly. It is the duty of rulers to give to their people. I leave you not as a princess, or a queen, or even as royalty, but as a citizen of Vesta." The crowd burst into a mix of shouting, between angry at her, and angry at those welcoming her death. "Do not fight over me!" She continued. "I ask instead you enjoy my death. As I am about to. I die for Vesta, and for Zanduchi."

No one quite knew how to take that. Very few knew she was a worshiper of a death god. She knelt down, her head held high. She left herself fully presented to the crowd, hiding nothing. Those closest to the stage would be able to see the glistening arousal running from her exposed sex. She took several deep breaths, trying not to pant. She was more exited than she had ever been before. Father Gil leaned close, his voice low again. "I saved myself especially for you, Princess." She blushed slightly. "Are you ready?" She nodded quickly.

It happened both incredibly fast, and delightfully slow. She heard the blade cutting the air itself. The ox swung the incredibly sharp blade with such speed that it happened in one strike. Cold steel touched her neck, splitting her flesh open. The cut was precise, slipping between the grooves of her spine and severing it before continuing to the other side. It happened so fast that her mind was still registering the delightfully agonizing pain when the world started to rotate. The crowd was upside down, then at an angle. More pain on the side of her head as she struck the surface of the stage. She saw the spray of crimson above her, saw her hand raise out of her view on its own. She wanted to turn to watch, but could do nothing.

Mercifully, a soldier gripped her long, blond hair and raised her head up by it. She felt the pull, and the world swayed as she was held up. She could hear the voices around her, but nothing registered through the ringing in her ears. She got to watch her body, a surreal experience. A fountain of crimson shot from the stump in great spurting arcs, splashing out onto the stage. Her body trembled and convulsed uncontrollably. Her hands clutched at the air, as if trying to catch her head. She watched her own breasts jiggling and bouncing on her chest. A moment later, her body fell backwards, legs sprawling out with her convulsions. She saw the orgasmic juices gushing from between those legs, wishing she could feel the ecstasy her body was going through in that moment. It looked to be the biggest orgasm she had ever experienced, and yet she felt nothing but a cold numbness below her chin.

As she watched her body flopping around on the stage like a suffocating fish, she realized her consciousness had not faded. She was still very aware, watching her body die. She had no breath, no voice, yet her vision did not fade. Her eyes flicked momentarily to the ox, still holding the blade covered in her blood. He gave her a purposeful look and a barely imperceptible nod as he caught her stare. He had cast a spell upon her, a dark ritual of Zanduchi. She knew of it only in legend, never thinking it was a real thing. As long as her head remained in tact, it would not die. He gave her one final gift, to let her watch the fate of her corpse.

The ox spoke, but she still could not understand words anymore. He was not speaking to her anyway. Her head was moved, another surreal feeling, then gently set upon a stool to the side of the stage. She was faced to her own body, which still twitched and jerked about, but with much less vigor. The once great spurts of blood from her severed neck were now trickles, with a periodic squirt as her heart seized within her chest. Her arms fell limp, but her legs kicked a few more times, her tail twitching about between them. Eventually, the kicking died to little twitches, shivers running through her body. Then stillness as it finally died. She had no concept of time now, but at her best guess, it had laid there kicking for a few minutes before the final twitches ended.

Father Gil spoke again to the crowd before turning to her head and giving a wink. He moved to her still form, his hands working to untie the cloth at his waist. A moment later, he pulled open his robe, revealing the red-brown fur covering his well muscled form underneath. He also revealed the massive, throbbing erection now standing proud before the audience. She had seen this before, watched him preform a sacrifice to Zanduchi in private sermons, but somehow it was even more impressive now that it was to be used on her. Despite the man being more than twice her age, she had always wanted to feel him using her. She asked once, when she was too young to ask such a thing. He laughed and told her that as a priest, he would only use it for their god. How she wished she could feel her body right now.

The man knelt down, gripping at her legs by the thighs and dragging her close. He prodded at her drooling slit with the tip of his cock, lining himself up properly. With a hard tug on her legs, he pulled her body back to ram half of his shaft deep into her. By his reaction, she must still be quite tight. She could tell his was moaning. He took a moment before shifting his grip up to her waist. He leaned down a little, then started to thrust himself forward again, jamming even more of the rod into her. Each thrust, more of it vanished within her cooling folds. She eventually started to see a slight bulge appear within her abdomen when he thrust forward. She wondered just how deep he must be to be visible like that. Yet he had more to give!

She imagined what it must feel like to have such a shaft jamming into her so deep. As he pushed more, she thought he must have crammed into her womb by now. She felt a shiver run through her as she imagined the feeling of him stretching her womanhood so much. Then she remembered there was nothing to shiver, wondering how she felt anything at all. She wrote it off as something to do with the spell upon her. Instead, her attention was focused upon the man fucking her corpse.

He with some clear effort, he managed to shove the entirety of his cock into her, crying out in pleasure from it. He was thrusting with fervor now, making her body jostle about under him. Her arms rolled this way and that as he yanked her body back and forth to fuck her hard. Her tits bounced and swayed and flopped about on her chest. She saw the bulge in her belly more clearly now, just below her abs. She knew he was ramming at her womb now. Shivers of pleasure ran through her again, once more left unquestioned by her, as she imagined what the orgasm from this must feel like.

Father Gil threw his head back as he shoved himself deep into her one final time. She saw his legs quivering, his hips jerking forward as he yanked her back several times, cumming deep into her dead pussy. After a moment, he pulled back, his cock still spurting several more shots out onto her chest and belly. He ran his hand back and forth on his shaft to work out the last of his seed, making sure to spray as much as he could upon her body. She watched it all hungrily. Even if she could not feel it, she felt satisfied having seen it happen.

The ox took a minute or two to calm himself, his shaft remaining rock hard the whole time. His seed still drooled from the tip, the rest of the rod covered in a mix of her dying orgasm and his jizz. When he stood, he spoke again, this time to the soldiers. The two men grinned, but she was not able to see what happened after. Instead, the ox's body blocked everything as he walked to her head. She was at the perfect height to be staring right at the cock that had just been fucking her corpse.

She felt the dizzying feeling of being lifted again, but not by her hair this time. It was a much gentle touch, one hand on either side of her face. She was brought up to stare at the man. He spoke, and for the first time since it had been severed, she understood. "One last gift, princess." She was brought close, and he kissed her lips gently. It was a very brief one. She thought that was the gift, but felt herself being lowered down until her nose bumped against his cock. He tapped at her jaw with a finger, and she understood. She let her mouth hang open, finding it opened way more than she normally could. Then the tip was pushed into her mouth.

She swore she felt the orgasmic bliss in that moment. She tasted the mix of her dead juices and his seed upon him. She closed her eyes as he pushed deeper. She felt the tip sliding back, down her throat. She wanted to take a deep breath to ready herself for that, only to remember she had no breath, and her throat ended below her jaw. Still, he pushed deeper, his tip sliding out of the bottom of her neck. He pulled her head back until her nose touched his crotch, then he pulled her off a little. He started to pump her head back and forth like this. She did her best to please him with her tongue, but she mostly just enjoyed the odd sort of way he fucked her face. It was not unpleasant for her, either.

She felt his cock twitching within her mouth, the throbbing of his heart within the mighty shaft plunged through her neck. He forced her head back and forth harder, masturbating himself with her face. She tried her best to help him. She felt the rumble of his moans through his body. As his cock really started to throb, he pulled back so only the head was within her mouth. He filled her mouth with his second load, much of it running down out of her severed neck. She still tasted it. A wonderful taste. He pulled her head back a little more, several more blasts splashing onto her face. She took it all welcomingly. Once, her face was proper and groomed. Now it was a mess of blood and cum in matted fur.

The man moved, holding her head up to the crowd, to show off the former royal's abused face. At least that was what the crowd thought. She loved it. She also got to see what was happening to her body. Both soldiers had stripped their pants down. It seemed neither wanted to use an already used hole, so one had her legs up over his shoulder to fuck her ass. The other was shoving himself into her throat, taking advantage of the exposed opening and not seeming to care about all the blood he was getting on his crotch.

Just as the soldiers came within her, she felt herself moving again. She was brought to the side of the stage where her parents were displayed. Two more spikes had been set out at some point. She felt a hand gently brushing against the top of her head, the ox trying to sooth her a little. As if she was not excited to watch what happened next. The soldiers, after having collected themselves and redressing, drew their swords. With several heavy slashes, they cut through her limbs, removing them entirely. One also sliced through her belly, much like what had happened to her father. When her guts spilled out, much of it was coated in cum still. What that happened, the other soldier sliced through her tits, removing each as close to her ribs as possible. Finally, her tail was removed, sliced right at the base. By the time it was done, there was no way to recognize that she had once been a pretty royal mouse. Now, she was a defiled corpse. Just meat.

Her removed limbs were dropped into a pile at the bottom of one of the spikes. Her torso was then lifted up, the spike positioned right at her cunt, still oozing the ox's seed, then quickly brought down. The spike pierced right up through her body, exiting through her chest, just above where her left breast used to be. The two nodded, then stepped back. There was still one spike left, and she knew what it was for. She felt her head lifted up once more. The ox spoke again, but she was not able to understand this time.

She felt the sharp point at the base of her neck. She also felt the man's hands tremble as he hesitated. She tried to smile to him, not sure if it did anything at all at this point. It seemed to calm him, as the trembling stopped. A moment later, he yanked he her head down. She felt the spike pierce up through her neck, strike somewhere in the back of her throat, and shatter through the bone. Her thoughts became a jumbled mess as the wooden stake pierced up through her brain. The last thing she felt was the top of her skull bursting open just behind her right ear as the spike exited. Then the spell keeping her alive broke, and death finally took her.

The crowd was unaware, of course. They simply saw the execution and rape of the former princess of the land, now ruled by an invading nation. Many welcomed it, others bemoaned it. Almost none knew she welcomed her death as much as she did. The kingdom of Vesta mourned or celebrated the death and defilement of the entire royal family.

Almost no one knew there was still one more, hiding within the borders. Waiting for the day she could return and reclaim her stolen throne.

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