Death Row for Dolly

by

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Reluctant, BiSexual, Fiction, Spanking, Rough, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Squirting, .

Desc: Fiction Sex Story: The only female on death row is having second thoughts about her legal defense.



The echoes of the retreating footsteps of the female guards made Dolly Madison feel isolated and alone. The fact that she was the only female prisoner on death row made her sort of unique in a way that she totally hated. It was one thing to be ogled when part of her ass was sticking out and guys had their tongues hanging out. It was quite another when the press were lining up to watch her last dying breath when they gave her the injections of poison into her main arteries like a sick bitch put down for its own good.

Dolly was thirty years old today and she had been sitting on death row for the last eleven and a half years. Even her lawyers seemed resigned to the fact that poor Dolly would be pushing up daisies before the calendar year was out due to an all-out push to clear the prisons of death row inmates before the Supreme Court abolished the death penalty. That didn't seem particularly fair to Dolly who had counted on at least ten more years of constant delays to extend her time on earth.

The daily routine on death row was not difficult and since Dolly was the only female in the aging prison on death row, she was not subject to cellmate harassment or short-changed because of overcrowded conditions like all the other females out in the general population.

Despite that fact, Dolly yearned to be in the general population and mixing with the other inmates who all seemed to have their own little stories and special likes and dislikes when it came to finding friends and having fun. She had been in the general population before her conviction and she learned right away that it was better to just shut your mouth unless the other girls told her it was time to use it for party-time. She learned a lot in those first months of incarceration and she knew it was a lot better than being all shut away from physical contact for the rest of her life.

Fortunately, she had been able to get monthly visits from her lawyers who had represented her free of charge courtesy of the State. Her lawyers had been with her from the beginning and were the original ones who lost the case in open court. That didn't disturb her because she was convinced they had done their best for her and she knew from the forensic evidence in the case that they had very little chance of getting her off without a guilty verdict. She could tell from the eyes of her legal team, and the eyes of the jury and even the eyes of the judge that they were not happy with the result but were bound by the rules of justice to render her a guilty verdict and to impose a death sentence in accordance with the parameters of the law in their State.

Dolly also knew that under other circumstances in some other states and had she been a male, it would be probable she would have gotten off on a manslaughter charge and only gotten a five to ten year sentence with time off for good behavior. That would have meant she would already be free and out on the streets a free woman.

It was all too obvious that the jury did not believe her contention that she had accidently killed her husband in a strange quirk of fate that left him bleeding to death on the white fluffy carpet.

Married at eighteen to a man with a violent past, she was in love with her husband, Mike, even though he didn't hesitate to yank down her panties and wallop her backside whenever he thought she had done something an obedient wife should not have done. All of their friends and relatives knew of his violent tendencies and the lawyers wanted to use that to formulate a viable "self-defense" strategy to offset the prosecution's case. In retrospect, she admitted she should have gone along with the lawyer's gut reaction but she wanted to merely stick to her own sense of truth and claim that she didn't intend to shoot her husband and it was all a big misunderstanding.

Dolly remembered distinctly that she was cleaning Mike's guns with the cleaning gear exactly like he had shown her when the long-barreled handgun fired the fateful deadly round right behind her spouse's right ear like the action of a well-trained assassin. Poor Mike's brains and scalp decorated the wallpaper in the dining room looking back at them sitting at the table with the weapons spread out for her to work on them to Mike's complete satisfaction.

He had always carefully unloaded each piece before he put it on the table and it just didn't seem possible that one of them should have been carrying a round still in the chamber to do the dirty business of ending the young gun-owner's life. She was in a state of shock when she called the emergency operator and uttered the incriminating words,

"I've just killed my husband!"

There was more than enough forensic evidence to back up her assumed confession.

Her only defense that made even her own attorney's snort in derision was,

"I didn't know the gun was loaded!"

Poor Dolly had been thinking about her silly protestations of innocence and realized she never had a chance of winning because people are generally cynical about such matters.

The older women she met in the lock-up back when she was in the general population just looked at her and said,

"Sure, honey, everybody in here is actually innocent. It is the system that is guilty."

Dolly was broken into the sixty-nine loving inmate population with no chance to protest that she had not the slightest liking of things related to female on female sexual relations. Even the female guards had great delight in educating her to the ways of life on the "inside" and she soon adapted to the lifestyle rather than allow it to break her into little pieces.

Now that she was on death row, her only real chance at friendly relations was with the private moments with her legal advisors on their monthly visits.

Her favorite lawyer was Mark.

.... There is more of this story ...

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