The Executioner of Madrid

The executioner of Madrid

© Maria Fernanda Sivori

(Adapted by Toe Tag)



A Near Future…


Fernanda Sivori had seen Billy before, but she never really noticed him until meeting him in the lobby that morning. She was checking her mailbox when she saw him gazing at her, from across the hall. He seemed to be too shy to say anything, but she understood what was going through his mind. She was well aware she could make heads turn: she was stood beautiful and elegant in her 5' 7' tall, with nice long shapely legs and sinuous waist. Her hair was straight and shiny brown, to the length of the shoulders, and beautifully matched her dark gleaming brown eyes. She dressed elegantly even if casual and her completion was perfect, making it difficult to actually tell what age she was. Fernanda smiled and spoke to him:

- You are Billy, right? From 314?

He blushed. She was talking to him.

- Y-Yes, Miss Sivori. Billy Rollins. From 316.

- My God, how you've grown! How old are you now?

- 18, Miss Sivori.

- 18 already, mmmm. And how are your studies?

- I'm planning to go to college after school, God willing.

- Very good, Billy. You should too, it should not be just up to us women to get higher education, some of you men should go to. - he seemed embarrassed by her remark.- Listen, if you ever need any book or any help with your studies, just drop by my place and I'll give you a hand. I'm on 907, you know.

He let out the shyest smile:

- Thank you so much Miss Sivori, I will not forget it.


A few weeks later Fernanda was returning from the office, tired of a day of hard work. She took the lift and clicked the button to her floor. When the door opened she walked to her flat and met Billy walking opposite to her. He saw her and stopped, staring intently at her imposing office outfit: black over-the-knee skirt, white shirt and black coat. Fernanda smiled at him:

- Hello Billy, what brings you to the top of the building?

- I-I was looking for you miss Sivori.

- Really? Well, I just arrived. What can I do for you?

- I wanted to find some books for a work, and since you offered to help me...

- Oh, of course, you can use my personal library.

Fernanda walked in and invited him to enter, took off her coat and walked to her study. He was amazed at the number of books she had there. Fernanda sat at the desk and said he was free to browse through her books as much as he wanted to, she was just going to sit there and try to read a couple of reports she had brought from work. Billy grabbed a few books and sat on the floor in front of her desk, starting to take notes. Her feet were killing her so Fernanda slipped off her pumps and stayed barefoot only with her nylons.

After a few minutes, Fernanda got fed up with the reports. It was all technical stuff. She began looking surreptitiously at Billy over her reading glasses. He was wearing torn jeans, a t-shirt and rubber flip-flops. Despite her opinion on men she could not stop herself from admiring how good he looked, a teenage boy in his prime, still untouched by the sins that make older men so tedious and boring. She then noticed Billy had stopped writing, he was just playing with his pencil, and kept staring nervously at what was going on under the desk. Fernanda realized she had exposed her nylon clad legs under the desk all that time, inadvertently showing them to Billy. He had probably got a scent of her smelly hose too, but he kept looking with enchantment at her. This was getting her so hot! She began flexing her toes in a leisurely way, as if distractedly, rubbing her feet against each other as she did it. The sound of nylon rubbing against nylon was rather noticeable, Billy could not ignore it. She went on playing with her feet, letting him have a good look at them, advertising them really. Then she made the remark:

- Oh, my feet hurt so much...

Billy shuddered at the words. She could tell his first reaction was to show concern, but he stopped himself.

- All day long closed inside those high heeled pumps... - Fernanda went further – They could use a good massage....

Billy could not resist such remark. He swallowed hard and said:

- Can I help you, Miss Sivori. Should I massage your feet for you?

- Oh Billy, would you? - she faked surprise in her voice – Oh thank you, you are so sweet!

Fernanda offered him her feet and went on pretending to read the reports she had on her desk. Billy knelt in front of her, got hold of her feet and began massaging them, shy at first but more actively right after. Fernanda made sure she let out and occasional moan every now and then, in a distracted manner.

- Oh Billy you do that so good. That feels wonderful. - she unbuttoned the top of her shirt – Come now, tell me, you have done this before, haven't you?

Billy blushed like a schoolgirl:

- No Miss, I haven't, but I have imagined how it would be to do it.

Fernanda finally laid the reports across the table. She took off her glasses and stared at the boy kneeling in front of her:

- Really, not even a school girlfriend, or you mother...?

- I haven't had much luck with girls, Miss Sivori... And my mother is a homemaker.

A male, after all. But still so beautiful in his candidness. Fernanda felt so venerated at that moment!

- Tell me Billy... Have you ever smelled a working woman's feet?

She raised her feet to his face and spread her toes in front of his nose. Billy didn’t budge and inch, he just knelt there and took what was coming to him. As Fernanda’s soles touched his face he closed his eyes, inhaled and caressed her nyloned feet. He started gently kissing them and she allowed it, relishing on the sensations he was giving her. After a day of tough decisions and closing deadlines, it felt so good being pampered, to have a male sniff her smelly feet! She reclined back on the chair and spoke softly as Billy continued to worship her:

- Smell them, my sweet, smell them. The daily sweat of those stylish nylons, those leather shoes… A modern, independent, working woman’s pay at the end of the day. The symbol of a status, you know? One day you’ll come to fear those like me, but for now just cherish the privilege of scenting the feet of a woman…

Fernanda pulled the nylons off her toes a little and ordered Billy to plunge his nose between her well-spread toes to better experience her feminine perspiration. Fernanda instructed him to gently bite her heels. It sent shivers down her spine! But feeling his lips planting kisses against her soles was her favorite. She gently rubbed her feet against his face, branding her mark on him. Then, after he had sniffed and kissed enough, she stroke her right foot on top of his head, fondling his hair like a pet, and finally said:

- This is between you and me, you are mine from now on until I say otherwise. You will come and go as I please and enjoy the pleasures and obligations of my company and tell of this to no one. – she raised his chin with her toes, so he could face her – Do you understand?

- Yes, Miss Sivori. – was his passionate answer.


Fernanda overpowered Billy in the most feminine way: with gentle and firm authority. In the following months she made him her lover and instructed him in the arts of sex as best as she knew. It was a wonderful thing to have an untainted male focusing his attention on her every need and desire. Sometimes she would get home from work and just a phone call would have Billy up on place and ready to please her in any way she wanted. He was a pleasing lover, with the energy of a stud and the tenderness of a sweetheart. She hardly thought about his needs, though. One of the first times they had sex he meant to spend the night with her but she coldly informed him she had the habit of sleeping alone. He returned to his apartment feeling as rejected as if she had denied him sex. A few nights later she allowed him to sleep over at her apartment, but prepared a makeshift bed at the side of her own and told him to use that one when she had finished getting her pleasure from him. It wasn’t until winter he slept together with her, if sleeping by the feet of your lover to keep them warm counts as sleeping together. Despite all these happenings, Fernanda did care about Billy, and helped him finish high school and get to college on the long run.

After almost a year of this odd relationship, Fernanda called Billy and told him she was dismissing their agreement. The young man felt shocked but took it well and did not complain. His only words regarding that subject were:

- Was it something I did, Miss Sivori? – he always called her Miss Sivori. Fernanda did not discourage that, she would have it no other way.

- No Billy, it’s just that you’ve grown up and soon your head will be full of nonsense and I won’t have it. It’s not something you’ve done, it is something you’ll eventually do.

That was the end of it. After that Billy and Fernanda would meet briefly in the lobby or the halls but spoke little more than greetings. Finally Billy went to college and disappeared from view.


Months passed. Social and economic events reshaped the world. Since World War I women had been heavily introduced in the working market, but it was only during the first decades of the XXI century that they undeniably took over the place held by men. They had the skills, the resourcefulness, the proper education and they were cheaper to afford to their males bosses. In a few years, men almost disappeared from the working class. Soon after, the same CEO’s that had let women in were substituted by them. They had been caught in their own trap. Finally, frustrated over continuously losing social status and economic power over to the women in the last two decades, men began protesting all over the western world. It was just peaceful demonstrations at first but then they became riots. Crowds of unemployed and socially rejected men began filling the streets, demanding jobs, the benefit of social policies and the chance of a better education. And the women responded with repression. Times had changed.


The fighting had ended, order was restored and many had surrendered. Those who had leadership roles in the crowd had been rounded up and summarily sentenced to death.. There was a large crowd of women in the yard, brilliantly dressing in their best silk and satin. Ten young men would be shot for their participation on the Anti-feminist Riots of Madrid. They were brought from the cells, some in a state of complete fright, and lined up against a brick wall. The firing squad came in through the south gate: 10 police women dressed in black cat suits for uniforms carrying M16 rifles entered the courtyard and took their positions forming the execution party before the boys. A few meters before them, the boys were weeping and begging for their mercy.
Fernanda Sivori had been elected the city’s mayor a few months ago. Her rise from her company’s top executive to a political career had been meteoric. As the highest civil official in Madrid , she had to show an example to the people.

A police woman started tying the men’s hands behind their back. As she was finishing it with one of the younger men, he asked her to speak to a woman among the witness:

- The tall beautiful brunette dressing a lustrous tight black leather cat suit. 

- That’s the lady mayor, young man! She's the one, the woman who has given the order to execute all protesters.

He insisted and so the officer checked with her commander:

- Excuse me, Lady Mayor, that young man begged for a word with you.

Fernanda looked at him and couldn’t believe her eyes: Billy!

- Well, we can’t deny a dying man’s last wish. I will speak to him.

She walked quickly to the wall, showing no sign of recognizing Billy.

- Miss Sivori, is it really you?

- Yes, Billy, it is me! How come you got involved with this mess?

Billy lowered his head in shame:

- A few colleagues at the university told me to join the movement…

- And now you are about to die for them, I suppose. I can see you are still kind hearted.

- Why are you going to shoot me, Miss Sivori? – Billy wept. She smiled amused and pretty.  The leather clad woman stood before him proud and unashamed.

- Oh, well, a small number of silly things, I think: equal salary, civil and sexual rights, women's economic independence, right to the vote, abortion, nurseries at work, sexual liberation...

- Okay, Okay! You are right.  But I'm innocent of denying it to you.

- Did you support the feminism before? I don’t recall you having such ideas…

- But I'm innocent… - he wept.

She smiled and caressed his face with her gloved hand.

- Nevertheless, everybody is somehow guilty. You for your candid silence, me for shooting you as a revenge, society for allowing it ... - she laughed still caressing its face

- Nice try, though...

- I'm sorry, Miss Sivori...

- I'm sorry too... I hate this but this death squad is necessary to eliminate enemies of the female liberation.

- I understand… - Billy wept.

His words upset her and she looked at him disdainfully:

- Do you? I can't let you live and don't tell me that you understand. You have no right to say it. - she felt sickened by his words - You men invented torture and execution. We women just want to fix the world a little...

She got closer to him and touched his firm chest:

- How old are you now?

- 20, Miss Sivori…

- 20… - She said as her hand went down to caress his groin. Billy was hard as a stone. - Only a child… And handsome.

Fernanda fondled his cock over the trousers’ fabric. She could feel his balls were round and full, it would not take long to milk him.

- Have you ever been with a woman since we were together? - she kept stroking the boy’s groin, pushing him closer to orgasm. His answer came out in a voice that was hoarse with lust:

- No, Miss...

The kid couldn't help it but cum where he stood. A wet stain appeared on his trousers, right over his crotch where she had jacked him off. Billy was still panting from the mercy masturbation he’d been given but it was time to end once and for all. Fernanda slipped off her black headscarf and took her time to fold it in a triangle of black silk, covering his face and securing it tight with a knot at the back. He did not complain. Then she took out her lipstick and drew a red circle in Billy’s chest where his heart was. After that she caressed his face and spoke her goodbye:

- Not to worry: in other times you could be killed in a war. To die by the hand of a woman is not that bad. We are tidier.

Fernanda kissed him passionately. The kid started to weep and Fernanda walked away towards the crowd. As she passed by she said urgently to the firing squad captain:
- Shoot them...

The captain then yelled the orders:

- Ready! Aim… Fire!

All 10 women opened fire on the group. Billy jerked against the wall as he was hit by automatic fire. Many of the boys fell immediately to the ground when the bullets hit them but Billy stumbled back and then slipped down the wall and collapsed to his left, hitting the ground.

When the 10 women stopped firing, the captain walked to the line of boys and started to deliver the ‘coups de grace’. Fernanda was looking away but she heard six shots, each followed by an ovation from the feminine bystanders. As the last shots echoed Fernanda stood close to the lady doctor, a beautiful blonde dressing a red satin trench coat, and commented to her:

- That boy was Billy Rollins. We used to live in the same block.

- Funny... I mean, to know the condemned. – the doctor retorted - He fell with grace...

- Yes, I think he did it well...

The shooting ended and the blonde doctor smiled:

- Well, I have to check them. When I was in med school I always wondered how the body of a shot terrorist would look like...

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Shot Down In Flames

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