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}                                            STEPPE HANGING\par}

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\pard\nowidctlpar\nooverflow\sl240\slmult1{\f0\lang1033\fs18\kerning28 Execution
 \par}

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\pard\nowidctlpar\nooverflow\sl240\slmult1{\f0\lang1033\fs18\kerning28       {\fs22
There is an old tale about a woman who took up the sword and went to war. \tab It
 does not tell of her battles however. Instead it talks of her life after the war
 when she journeyed in search of a teacher. It is a short story. \par}}

\pard\nowidctlpar\nooverflow\sl240\slmult1{\f0\lang1033\fs22\kerning28     Once 
she had been a warrior, or at least almost one. She had earned a sword and shield
 and had used them on a field of battle. Finding she needed more training she had
 traveled across these dammed treeless plains for weeks in search of a reported 
arms master. Tired and wishing to sleep under a roof she had come to the town in
 search of food, drink, information, and a bed. \par}

\pard\nowidctlpar\nooverflow\sl240\slmult1{\f0\lang1033\fs22\kerning28     Things
 had gone so well until he had entered the inn. He was large and already drunk. 
What he saw was a blond girl\\woman sitting alone with a pack and weapons next to
 her. The more he looked the better he liked what he was looking at and before long
 he was next to her. She tried to dissuade him but he insisted. An appeal for help
 fell on deaf ears. Then he started to paw her and attempted to rip her tunic off
 her body. It was plain that he was planning on raping her right there on the floor
 of the taproom. She broke free but was cornered. He lunged for her. A tankard of
 ale became the weapon to defend her honor with and she used it. A roundhouse swing
 caught him on the side on the head and he went down in a heap. At first she had
 thought it was all over but she was oh so wrong. A look down revealed he was most
 likely dead as the side of his skull was badly dented. Within seconds it seemed
 there was a disturbance and four armed and armored guardsmen came in. From there
 it went straight to hell. The drunken would be rapist turned out to be the local
 lord\u8217\'92s son and he was not pleased. Her protests that she had only been
 defending herself were brushed aside. \par}

\pard\nowidctlpar\nooverflow\sl240\slmult1{\f0\lang1033\fs22\kerning28     She had
 found herself being stripped and was then gang raped there in the lord\u8217\'92
s hall. A virgin defiled for defending herself. In truth she was worth looking at
 and thought of having her could set any man\u8217\'92s loins aflame. She was tall
, almost two yards. Large firm tits, a tight ass, long red hair with a matching 
patch covering her woman\u8217\'92s hole. Her life on the road and her training 
had left her with a firm well sculpted body carried by long well shaped legs.  Countless
 rapes later not all of which were in her cunt she was once more dragged to the 
great hall. Beaten, bit, and bruised she was a mess and could stand only with help
 as her sentence was passed. She was to be shorn bald all over her body then given
 the rest of the day to recover. At sunset she was to be turned out and given until
 dawn of the second day to be gone from his lands. She would leave with nothing 
except her life. If on the dawn of the second day she was caught still on his lands
 she would be hung on the spot and her body left for the beasts.   \par}

\pard\nowidctlpar\nooverflow\sl240\slmult1{\f0\lang1033\fs22\kerning28      The 
filthy water and garbage she was provided was better than nothing and by nightfall
 she could move and walk enough to leave. She knew she was a dead woman. Even if
 she could somehow manage to get clear of his lands the first marauders she happened
 upon would use her for sport and with any luck would just kill her cleanly. By 
Satan\u8217\'92s balls any naked shorn woman was clearly fair game for any man. 
Still the warrior in her forced her to try, just maybe she might get lucky. Perhaps
 some farmer or trader would give her shelter in return for her body. By noon of
 the first day she knew she would never make it. The cramps in her belly were almost
 bad enough to stop her and her feet were ripped to shreds. Finding scant water 
and less food she still pressed on as best she could. From time to time she thought
 she saw signs of pursuit behind her but was not sure. Perhaps followers was a better
 term. Anybody chasing her could run her down without even making their horse sweat
. \par}

\pard\nowidctlpar\nooverflow\sl240\slmult1{\f0\lang1033\fs22\kerning28      By dawn
 on the second day she knew she had failed. Reduced to a crawl and even crawling
 she had no chance of getting clear. The cramps in her guts were worse and she was
 bleeding from her slit even though it was not her time of the month. She had been
 gut shot by all those members that had plowed into her during her captivity and
 she knew like everyone with a gut wound she was dying. She staggered until she 
tripped over a stone and fell face first in the dirt. Unable to rise right away 
she laid there and must have passed out for the next thing she knew  she was surrounded
 by for mounted men. Death had found her. They dismounted and ground tied their 
horses. To her surprise she was offered water. Allowed to sit and recover for a 
spell she dared not believe her luck. No men such as these would ever allow a chance
 like this to pass. And they did not. Once she was recovered enough to stand and
 try walking she was knocked back down and promptly raped. She was taken every way
 a man could enter a woman and several times by each. \par}

\pard\nowidctlpar\nooverflow\sl240\slmult1{\f0\lang1033\fs22\kerning28     Finally
 the rape was over. Her hands were tied in front of her and she was knocked flat
 on her back. Her ankles were tied to two stout stakes in the ground and a noose
 placed around her neck. \par}

\pard\nowidctlpar\nooverflow\sl240\slmult1{\f0\lang1033\fs22\kerning28 Three of 
the men picked up the other end of the rope while the leader squatted down to watch
 her face as the noose tightened around her neck. Although all three pulled as hard
 as they could they could not quite kill her. Each breath was pure torture and had
 to by fought for with everything she possessed  she somehow still lived even after
 an eternity of strangling. Finally a horse was brought over and the rope hooked
 to the girth. This time there was no denying the noose. It still took a few breaths
 worth of time but her throat was finally squeezed shut. She fought to the bitter
 end with the pain mounting to levels she would have thought could be found in hell
 only. She not only suffered from the noose tightening around her neck and the burning
 in her chest but from the agony in her belly as it was stretched and from the pulling
 of her joints as the noose and the stakes acted like a rack. Then through the pain
 and the red mist came peace and release. Her body gave up the uneven battle and
 ran down to free her sprit. The old tale swears she went to the resting place of
 warriors and was welcomed by all there and spent all time in the company of fellow
 warriors drinking and gaming. But that\u8217\'92s just a tale. }}