It's Good to be Me
#4 of Snuff
It's Good to be Me by: BerserkerB
There was no better place to live than here. And there is no better person to see than me. I woke up, feeling refreshed and ready to face the day. I donned my black pants and shirt - sleeveless I might add, just as the sun began to rise over the bustling city square. I could see the beautiful rays casting their touch upon the main square, where my stage was already set up. Some cold water helped me out of my morning dizziness, and a quick look in the mirror picked up my spirits. I grabbed my mask, black, like the rest of my attire, and casually fitted it around my head. I always hated wearing the mask. My adoring public never got to see my strong canine features, except for my broad muzzle and my twinkling green eyes. But they love the mask, and I am nothing but a crowd pleaser.
The morning sun was just overhead when I finally left my home. Not more than two steps out the door, and already people began giving me their love and admiration. A couple of gawking scholar boys, one a deer and the other a mouse, ran up to me with their mouths flapping. They jumped up and down, their robes fluttering like sheets out to dry in the summer breeze, squealing for me to answer all their questions about today's show. I smiled and waved them away, telling them that as a professional I would never spoil the surprise. They quickly became crestfallen, so to pick up their spirits I winked and told them that they could stop by my house later this evening for supper if they so liked.
Their faces immediately lit up, and they both hopped away, happy as could be. I watched the back ends of their robes, and thought about how much fun I was going to have with those two.
There was still plenty to do before the show. I stopped by the baker's to pick up some breakfast. He tossed me a warm smile when I entered and handed me a fresh loaf of bread, right out of the oven.
"How's the show looking," he asked in earnest.
I grinned slyly. "I've got a few good ones tonight. I think you know one of them; what's his name... Robert?"
The baker nodded. "Yes, I remember him." He cast me a dark gaze. "Make a good spectacle out of him." It seemed like both a request and a command.
I laughed heartily. "Don't I always, good sir?" Before I left, he asked if I was doing anything this evening. I told him about the two scholar boys, and pondered him about joining in. He agreed wholeheartedly, and I knew then that tonight was going to be quite the ride.
I ate my bread slowly while I ran the rest of my errands. I stopped by the blacksmith to pick up my instrument. The smith's name was Richter, and I always admired him. Like me, he was quite muscular, though he had much more fat around his paunch than I did. He was a tall bear, with dark fur that made him impossible to see on a dark night.
He was busy pounding his hammer at his current project, a set of iron shackles. He looked up as I entered, and beamed from cheek to cheek. "Why hello brother!" He always called everyone brother. "What great blessings has God brought to you this day?" He stood up from his work stool to greet me. He was quite a towering figure, and bested me by a head. His embrace was strong, and I nearly lost my wind.
"I am fine," I heaved. I pushed away gently and took a moment to catch my breath. "And I've been blessed with a wonderful bounty for today's show."
I tried to use my mask to hide my gaze. I peered up and down his form, admiring all I saw. He wore no shirt, as the heat from the hearth was intense, even during the winter. His matted fur was wet from sweat, and it glistened in the glow cast by the flames. I blushingly eyed his groin, and was not disappointed. Even flaccid, the bulge in his pants was the size of my fist. I had been on the receiving end of his mighty tool many times before, and the sensation was enough to make even me weak in the knees.
"You seem to have something on your mind, brother." He winked and grinned down at me. "Are you by chance in the need of my services? I know how to work my tools better than anyone in the land!"
On his last remark, Richter embraced me again. However, his embrace came with the tell-tale nudging of something hard upon my belly. It was a good thing I was wearing a mask, or else my blushing would have been more pronounced. "Perhaps another time," I stammered hastily. "I have much to do before the show."
He eyed my curiously before letting me go. "Aye, you do have a responsibility to King and country this afternoon." He walked to one side of the room and picked on object off a rack on the wall. He handed it to me and pronounced, "By the grace of God, and by the glory of his Majesty, wield this tool well and smite those who would harm our great land!"
I took the axe from his grasp, beaming up at him with a toothy grin. "I shall do just so, brother Richter!" I slumped the head of the axe over my shoulder and made to depart.
He called to me before I could leave. "I will be there to watch you today. Also, keep your door unlocked, for I will also be paying you a visit tonight to show you how well I think you did."
"But I already have guests coming tonight!"
The big bear shrugged and replied, "Then you shall have no trouble accepting one more at the table, and in your bedroom."
I knew the argument was lost. When Richter intended to grace a home with his blessings, it was never optional. I gulped nervously and worried that tonight might be a little wilder than I could handle. My only desire was that he would not being along the shackles.
With my breakfast resting comfortably in my belly, and my bladed instrument squarely set in my grasp, it was time to make my way to the stage. As I headed for the town square, heads turned in my direction. From between the slits in my mask I saw smiles as I passed. Some of the commoners and laborers began talking excitedly when I came into view. I could tell by their gazes that they were sizing me up underneath my garments. I loved being me.
The town square was quite wide. There was plenty of space for the several street merchants and side shops that popped up every morning. I passed a small tavern, closed until the evening, and remembered having my first real fight there. It was also the place where I had my first kiss, and where I had my first fuck. It all happened in one night. God, those were good times.
The designers of the square had built the area around a small stage. The stage was used for a variety of things. Sometimes plays were put on to entertain the shoppers. Most days a band of musicians used the stage, paid for by the city to provide music for everyone throughout the day. Other times the stage was used for political purposes, such as town meetings and mayoral elections. And then there is the time that the stage belongs to me.
I leisurely made my way up the small flight steps, humming a tune I remembered hearing the day before. I gazed upon the stage in all its splender, all its beauty. It was all set up for me, ready to entertain the masses, stopped only because the key player to the show had yet to arrive - until now. In the center of the stage was a small block of wood that rose to my hips. On one end of the block was a small half-domed groove. I set my axe on the stage and laid the handle against the block. I ran my fingers along the groove. Although it had been smoothed over recently, my claws nicked at the slight cuts and abrasions left by my previous usage. I took a deep breath and exhaled it exuberantly.
This was my passion.
Not too long after my arrival, the masses began to crowd around the stage. The first to arrive were the commoners, people dressed in worn and dull clothing. I was once a commoner myself, that is until I was discovered and rose to stardom. The ignorant masses were probably my biggest fans, always happy to have some entertainment brighten up their dreary lives. The poor souls.
Next to arrive were the merchants and shop owners. Their higher prestige within the fair city entertained many of them the luxury of chairs or other seating arrangements. Where the commoners had to stand or sit in the dirt, the merchants were able to keep their bodies somewhat clean.
And of course, no show would be complete without a handful of nobles and high-class citizens. I usually had the pleasure of entertaining the mayor and sometimes the governor and his family. Today, I was blessed by the appearance of one of the king's finest nobles, the Duke of Nadia. He made a regal entrance, preceded by the announcement of his arrival and carried by four servants holding up his sedan chair. If nothing else, it was quite a site.
The Duke of Nadia was a class all his own. Born of the union between a tiger princess of India and the Duke's father, who was a lion. He had foreign air about him. He draped himself the clothes of his mother's land, wearing bright red silk and mountains of jewelry. Even from his distance from me, I could make out the makeup he lined around his eyes, casting an exotic purplish shadow around them. He stared at he with a feline grin, obviously anticipating the show to come.
I would be sure to not disappoint him, nor anyone else there that afternoon. After all, I was a professional, and I knew exactly what my audience wanted to see.
I picked up my axe with both paws and turned to the crowd. The throng of onlookers fell silent. In the distance I could hear birds chirping from outside the city limits. "Good afternoon, and welcome to another exciting show!" I yelled as loud as I could and held the axe above my head. The crowd erupted in applause. Always good to start out strong. "I know it has been a few days since my last show, but I am pleased to inform you that our wonderful city guards have rounded up several exciting volunteers for today's entertainment!" There was another applause, smaller, but nonetheless filled with eagerness. "In just a few moments, they shall be brought up on stage, one by one, and be given to me for the purpose of swift justice...preceded, of course, by torturous entertainment for all of you." The audience let out a howl of joy and some threw their hats into the air. I had them right where I wanted them.
"Let's begin! Guards, bring up the first volunteer!" Although I called them volunteers, they were hardly such. No, these men were all criminals, men who dared oppose the laws set forth by our glorious king in order to pocket some coins or indulge in their sick fantasies. In a way they are volunteers. By following a life of transgression they offered their lives to me so that I may give the good people of this city a spectacle to remember.
My first volunteer for the afternoon was a rat by the name of Cedric Goodman. As I read his name from the parchment in my hand, I mentally laughed at how unsuited his last name was for him. Cedric was a thief, nothing grand compared to the others on my list, but a perfect specimen for the first execution of the day. I read off his list of crimes as the guards hauled him up the steps. Cedric was wanted for several accounts of thievery, from stealing loaves of bread, pickpocketing, all the way up to breaking and entering. Normally such charges would not constitute a punishment such as death, but it seemed the rat had pissed off the wrong people, people with wealth.
His last heist had occurred two nights ago. He had apparently snuck into the lodgings of a wealthy businessman from France. He had entered the room in the guise of a servant, and had rounded up much of the Frenchman's money before the man had returned. Apparently Cedric decided to fight his way out once he had been found out. Unfortunately for him, the Frenchman had a bodyguard with him - a strapping young bull. Cedric went down in little time, and the businessman's influence had earned the rat a place on my stage. Pity.
Cedric's body quivered in his chains. His arms were bound behind his back, like all prisoners' were, and a set of iron shackles, connected by a small chain of iron, restricted his movement to at most a crawl. I could see just how weak Cedric was. Only a few days in jail and he already looked like something a beast had thrown up. His clothes were nothing but rags, torn in various places; I was surprised they remained on his body. His brown fur looked dull, and his ears sagged low.
I stepped towards him, and the guards released their hold on his arms. He made a quick attempt to flee, but forgot about his shackles. He hit the wooden stage hard, and the audience laughed at his stupidity. I reached down and dragged him back to his feet by the collar of his neck. With a wicked grin I said, "Cedric Goodman, you are hear-by sentenced to death, by beheading."
He screamed at the top of his lungs. "Please no!" His eyes begged for mercy. "I don't deserve this. I've changed, I swear! I'll never steal anything again!"
I raised a brow, turned to the crowd, and said "You are right, you won't be stealing ever again." The emphasis on the last two words got the crowd chuckling. Smooth. I motioned one of the guards over, and asked for his knife. I held the small blade up for all to see. I glanced down at Cedric, and noticed his eyes, wet with tears, staring up at the knife with unbridled fear. "Some of you may be wondering what the knife is for." The statement was directed at both the audience and Cedric. "I thought that, since the prisoner loved to steal from others, it is only fair that I give him a taste of his own sin before I send him off to hell."
Cedric stared at me with confusion. I could tell much of the audience was also confused. After all, Cedric owned nothing except for the clothes...the rags, on his back. I flipped the knife around in my paw, and held it with the blade facing down. With my free paw I tugged at the rat's ragged collar. I slid the knife between Cedric's fur and the shirt, and with one swift slice, severed the worn cloth in two. I pulled the torn shirt into the air and held it up for all to see.
"First, I have robbed him of his shelter. Let all those here gaze at the worthless specimen in all his lowliness!" I paraded him around the stage, letting the onlookers gawk at his half-naked form. Cedric tried to shrink from their view, but one or two prods with the knife persuaded him otherwise. After the audience had their fill, I pulled the rat back to the center of the stage. I held up the knife once again and proclaimed, "Now I shall rob the rat of his dignity, before robbing him of his life!"
Cedric tried to wiggle out of my grasp, but I shot him a look that froze his movements. The first thing any good executioner must know is how to strike terror in the hearts of his volunteers. With Cedric frozen in place, I slipped behind him and wrapped my arm around his neck. I held it there tight, and whispered a threat to squeeze his throat if he got out of line. I felt him gulp nervously.
"Now then," I whispered in his ear, "if you are a good boy then I will end your life swiftly. If not..." the tip of the knife pressed deftly against his spine, "then I will let the crowd enjoy watching you die like the pathetic piece of trash you are." He wept profusely, but I ignored it. I moved the knife down and around his hips. The sharp blade spread his dull fur until I found where I wanted it to go. With no more words, I slid the edge between his hip and his pants. I tugged at the knife, and it cut through the worthless clothing with ease. I grabbed at the torn cloth with my fingers, and with an act of flair, ripped the pants nearly in half.
I threw the material in my gasp away, and let the rest of the pants fall away on its own. There was a surprised gasp from the crowd. Cedric's cock and balls lay exposed for all to see. The rat would have tried to cover himself, but I kept him straight. I shoved him forward, and displayed his loss of dignity to the crowd. Many laughed, most gawked, and some looked eager to see more. I took him around the stage twice, shaking him as we walked to make his crotch jiggle for the audience.
Once I had my fill, I hurried him back to the center of the stage. After tossing the knife back to the guard, I addressed the crowd. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, it is time to bid this rat a fond farewell." I picked my axe back up and waved it at the block. "Kneel!" I ordered.
He hesitated at first, but a mean scowl and snarl from me let him know what little choice he had. His eyes stared down at the wooden block. I could only guess what he was thinking, but I knew from the look in his eyes that it was nothing but regret. Too late for regrets.
I grabbed his neck and shoved him to his knees. I forced him to lean forward, and set his neck perfectly into the groove. After I let go, I warned him to not move...or else. I addressed him, though I shouted so the crowd could hear me. "Cedric Goodman, you are nothing but trash, trash and scum! You deserve nothing less than death for your crimes, and if I had my way you would feel my axe a hundred times more!" I took the handle in both paws and placed the heavy blade just over his neck. "May God have mercy on your soul." I said it softer, giving this thief the only pity I felt for him.
The axe felt light in my grasp. A rising sense of euphoria swirled up from my belly. Despite all the showmanship, all the grandeur and eccentricity of my act, this was my one true passion. It took me only a few seconds to memorize the aim. I adjusted my footing and shook the tension from my arms. The axe rose in the air, slowly, carefully. I licked my lips as I concentrated my entire being upon the rat's neck. The casual murmur of the audience, the thick tension in the air, all of it vanished from my senses.
A moment of complete silence, and then, I let the axe fall. It sounds fantastical, but I swear upon all that is holy that time slows down for me whenever I execute a person. I can see every detail, every second, and every second between the seconds as I end my volunteers' lives. The cold metal wedge cut cleanly into Cedric's neck. His flesh split like paper against the might of my deadly instrument. I watched as the blade dug deeper. I could see the red blood begin to squirt around the blade, slowly coating it with the crimson liquid that once gave life to this rat. I heard a crack as the sharp edge reached bone. The spine snapped in two, cut cleanly by my wonderful chop. A few more slowed down seconds, and the deed was finally done. The "Thunk!" of the axe cutting into wood brought me back to reality. The cheers of the audience rung through my head, and I stopped breathing - just for a moment - to revel in it.
Cedric's neck spilled fresh blood onto the chopping block. With a swift kick I knocked the body aside. It rolled on the stage, wetting it red, before sluggishly coming to a halt. I reached down and plucked the rat's severed head from the stage floor. I looked at his face, and his glassy eyes looked back at me. I loved the way a decapitated head looked. The features frozen in place, a look of surprise forever stuck on the volunteer's face. I held the head up, and a thunderous cheer erupted from the crowd. Everyone clapped or me, and the sound carried right through to my soul. I walked to one edge of the stage, where one of the guards had just finished setting up a metal pole, with one end sharpened slightly. I looked at the audience, grinning from ear to ear, and begged if they wanted to see me do it. The crowd let out a resounding "Yes!" and not a moment later I shoved Cedric's head down onto the pole. I pushed until I felt a strong resistance, and then let go. The rat's head looked out upon the audience, gawking at them with dead eyes.
I held my axe above my head and shouted, "Who's ready for the next one!?" The throng of people let out squeals of delight, hoots of triumph, and hollers of joy. I happened to take notice of the Duke of Nadia, who appeared to be rubbing his paw against the lump in his silken pants.
I grinned at them like a fool. I loved it.
It felt good to be me.
The End