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A Final Gasp

Warning: Poison gas chamber. Failure to follow proper safety guides will cause death.

The faded sign on the door was less than helpful since killing her was entirely the reason she was here. Stripping down and putting her clothes into the garbage can in the foyer before that heavy door as instructed by her large wolf executioner. She wondered if her corpse would be going into that same can later. The thought of her black vixen feet poking out of the trash made her shiver with a cold rush. The heated tickle of arousal spreading from her lap soothed that coolness from her spine. At least her last moments won't be boring. She could daydream of that hulking bull having his way with her corpse too. She wouldn't have any complaints then.

Once her simple orange shirt and pants had been tossed aside with her plain cotton panties it was time to be bound. Her arms are guided by the big bovine attendant with firm motions, but obvious care to not really hurt her. Certainly put her in her place as she felt the heavy leather straps pushing both wrists together be cinched taut. Her fingers tingle, and she thought of complaining, but she wouldn't need to worry, in, oh, 15 minutes anyways. The pins and needles feeling and growing numbness in her fingertips perhaps a tease of what the rest of her would soon feel.

The door itself was then opened, and frankly she was let down. The room was tiny. Which she guessed was the point of a gas chamber. The floor was simple tile, stained tan and yellow with age. While the majority of the room was taken by some sort of low set device. A big grate covered the top of a large concrete bowl, with a padded rest for her chin. A wire chimney in front of that showed a cable and hook inside to lower whatever deadly thing they would use to gas her. The fact she could watch it slowly be lowered was quite a mean touch. Some adjustable binding straps were on adjustable rails on the floor, clearly this room was where she would try some alternative things to breathe aside from the oddly sour smell of the room's air.

The room wasn't especially chilly, but the tiles felt cool against her paw pads as she walked in. The bulk of the bull behind her was very casual about his intimidating presence. Almost as if sensing her instinctive urges to flee. But this had been her choice of execution methods, so it felt strange to want to fight this now. She was already fated to end her life a lifetime ago.

She barely began to shift her weight to lower herself down and the guard was already helping support her. Big hands carefully gripped under her shoulders to gently support her balance to kneel down. Strange to feel a comforting grasp in one's final moments Her knees trembled upon contact with the cool tiles, knowing they would never lift again.

That looming shadow guided her chin to rest her head on the grate. The sour smell of whatever chemical was beneath her was strong now. It made her lips curl as she felt the heavy straps worked over her back. Locking behind her head like a collar to push her head against that worn padding. She could tilt her head and move it an inch or two from the smelly liquid under her, but it would be no relief from what would come next.

A strange tingle in her lap as she rested her chin more fully on the grate. Feeling cold metal and the way her fur spiked through the openings. The big chimney in front of her was clear, just so she could see how close she was to death if she wanted. Nothing was in the guiding cable. Yet. As her knees were spread, her tail lowered, feeling very vulnerable and exposed with her butt up in the air like that.

Alas, her dreams of being pounded on her execution device were just a dream. Ankles cuffed down to the rails as the bull casually locked the old supports in place. Her nude body locked just as firmly in place. She could wiggle her butt, but those knees and ankles would go nowhere. Her head trapped down against the padding under chin. She lashed her tail with frustrations and arousal. Feeling as if she was worshipping her execution device now. Truly an altar to be sacrificed upon in it's own way.

Her amber eyes could just barely catch the executioner removing the bag of poison from it's locked case. So many warnings, or were those promises in this tiny room. She had to turn her eyes up to see him open the locking mechanism for the delivery system. A safety tray would keep him from accidentally dropping the poison and dosing himself while the device was opened.

The bag was carefully hooked onto the guiding cable. Resting above that guiding chute that would lead it down into the catalyst below. Once it buried itself under her nose the deadly fumes would sputter up in her face for the next half hour. It's likely she would be gone long before then.

She wondered if anyone would be watching. But of course there would be some. Who wouldn't want to watch some old naked vixen gasp out her last. Shown blatantly exposed with knees spread on the rails. Her tail curled up over her back; she may as well give the audience what they want.

The hoof steps out of the chamber seemed even louder now that she had been fully bound up. Her executioner was soon out of her sight as the door was closed with a creaking groan. Then the metal clacks of the many locks sealing shut. A faint hum from the vent fans idling slowly, and more strange rattles and muffled sounds further from the room that she could just barely hear.

The final things she will hear before her execution in that short, yet terrifying moment of peace.

The whirrr of the cable lowering made her fur frizzle and body jump. Jerking on the cables in a helpless attempt to hide from the death that was slowly lowering itself down towards her. From the top of her vision the dark mesh of the bag sauntered down, so lazy and slow. To drive home how inescapable her fate was, they could so casually toy with her.

They could have just dropped it, but watching it creep into her vision in front of her seemed to make the anxiousness of her death that much more wonderful. She found herself counting each beat of her pounding heart, a final countdown of her life.

Once it sunk past her nose the guiding chute turned inwards. so it will end up right under her chin. Eyes closing as she knows she'll hear the harbinger of her death any moment. Hands tense and numb tugging on her bindings as she holds her breath without thinking of it.

Hisss! A quiet bubbling and a tickle of heat. A strange bitter almond scent teased her nose. She tried to recall what cyanide does to your body. Something about asphyxiation. Maybe it was like shutting down her ability to use her oxygen. She couldn't remember really, and her mind raced in fragmented thoughts as the chemical's cloying sour sweet scents tormented her by being pleasant smelling.

Well, either way, it was now wafting up past her head. Through her nose and mouth with that Sickly sour sweet and making her heart pound. She tossed her head, eyes clenched shut. Fighting the urges to panic and to hold her breath. Instincts begging her to cling to life as it was put to an early end, and with each breath she took she was telling them no.

Nnnng! There was that embarrassing ache in her loins as she felt the dizzying, helpless flutter of her heart in her chest. Desperately aroused by the knowledge she was already dead. The tingling ache of her lungs became useless as she took tiny breaths, quick little things as she thought her body's urge to hold her breath. Just another dumb dying fox, like the many she'd masturbated to, odds are some were probably right in this same chamber.

Hhh, hhh, nnn... HUFF! a big breath and her world sparkled and darkness tunneled her vision. Her chest rose and fell. Big, huge, heavy breaths that jostled her breasts against the side of the gassing device. Just like she loved to see, when some vixen finally was really sucking all that poison down their drooling maw. It felt so heavy in her lungs as she coughed. It didn't hurt as much as she thought, as her breaths wheezed in reflex to the lack of oxygen. She was already dead, she knew that, even earlier then when she had entered this room. But brains are naive, and instincts are overpowering.

Darkness and spots of light focused her vision to a fading tunnel. The hiss of the chemicals beneath her replaced with a rushing sound of her pounding heart. Drooling as her strength left her body. A hot trickle of warmth dribbled down her thighs. Her body shook with painful cramps and pleasured shudders of orgasm, thrashing against her bindings.

There was a mournful realization that this was even the last rush of climax she will ever feel as darkness overwhelmed her. It was all blissfully over. It wasn't even that hard, really, what was there to be anxious about. Take a few deep breaths, and nature will do its thing. Satisfied relaxation of afterglow soothing her to let her consciousness go and see what comes next.

After all she really did just cum on death row, there's a bucket list item few will get to mark off.

That was it for contemplating that thought any further. Drool foamed from her lips as her body flops about in jerky reflexes. A seizure tugged on her muscles in rhythmic contractions. Ragged, shallow, instinctive breaths as her lungs sought air but found only poison. Trying to soothe the burning in her brain as it wore out and expired cell by cell, unable to use any of her body's oxygen.

After a few minutes of her shaking it was all over. Her body is finally at peace. Her inner ears and lips brightly blushed. A last dribble of piss escaped her leaking cunt. Her tail soaking in it as toes made a final wriggle for the camera. Her heavy breasts no longer rose or fell with her breaths. Nothing left of the once pretty older vixen's personality or mind. Just a corpse.

Not even a moment of silence before the resounding roar of the ventilation fans filled the small room. A low hiss of ammonia scrubbers to neutralize what was left of the poison gas as the container sealed itself up for further processing. She would be left for the rest of an hour to ensure the room was safe enough to enter.

Or perhaps it was for the more lewd minded to masturbate over the sight of her dead, limp butt. Several cameras captured her dead body and half closed eyes, tongue poking from her lips with a trickle of blood from being bitten. After all, it wasn't like she could complain anymore. Yet another dead fox, and it's not like there wouldn't be plenty more to take her place another day.