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Description
There are whores in this world. Promiscuous women who ignore their duties as mothers, wives, daughters, sisters. These skanks need to be put down. Today is a day of justice. A married woman chose another man's bed for the night, and now she is to be punished.

Please, don't! My husband is beating me, I just wanted to be with someone who cared…

The woman's begging to the police is still echoing in my head. I gaze at her facing the wall. She is trembling and her face is wet with tears. She must believe that her charade of remorse will sway the hearts of these men beside me, but I will not give into this Jezebel. She deserves to die.

I pick up the first stone. I examine it in my hand. It is hard, with a jagged surface. Perfect. As the first one to strike, I hurl the rock at the woman, and it hits her in the head. She cries out, and the satisfaction crawls up in me. I pick up another stone and fire, however this time the stone crosses just about her head. A miss. I am not alone, however. Rock after rock rains over the whore, some miss, some hit. Most hit.

I'm not a prostitute! I made a mistake…he made me feel safe…don't make me go back home, my husband, he'll kill me! Or report me, but that's just the same…

You deserve what you got, harlot. You're no better that the street walkers plaguing the city. If your man had not reported you, he'd be a criminal as well. In present, the woman straggles back toward the wall. She cups her hands over her face to protect it. Blood is covering her entire body. As the next stone hits her in the abdomen, she collapses to the ground. Hour after hour, the rocks never cease to rain. The men here are determined to pass judgment to this criminal, and so am I. The bitch is screaming, pleading for us to stop. Her manipulation disgusts me, so I find the largest rock in the pile and throw it with full force against her mouth. It hits, she moans, and blood pours from between her lips. She can no longer speak. About time.

Eventually the whore can no longer move. She twitches now and then, but that's it. After some time, even the spasms stop. A man holds up his hand to signal us to pause. He bends over the woman to feel her pulse. Is she breathing still? He leaves the woman and walks over to a safe distance.

I do not deserve this…

"Continue," is his final word. And we do, with more force than ever before. Everyone wants to be the one who strikes the killing blow for this harlot. For another half hour the woman is buried in rocks. Finally the man checks once again, and this time it is done. It's over.

I feel a sense of accomplishment. One more criminal skank has left the world, and soon, every cheating woman will follow. It's only a matter of time, and I've got all the time in the world.

Description
There are whores in this world. Promiscuous women who ignore their duties as mothers, wives, daughters, sisters. These skanks need to be put down. Today is a day of justice. A married woman chose another man's bed for the night, and now she is to be punished.

Please, don't! My husband is beating me, I just wanted to be with someone who cared…

The woman's begging to the police is still echoing in my head. I gaze at her facing the wall. She is trembling and her face is wet with tears. She must believe that her charade of remorse will sway the hearts of these men beside me, but I will not give into this Jezebel. She deserves to die.

I pick up the first stone. I examine it in my hand. It is hard, with a jagged surface. Perfect. As the first one to strike, I hurl the rock at the woman, and it hits her in the head. She cries out, and the satisfaction crawls up in me. I pick up another stone and fire, however this time the stone crosses just about her head. A miss. I am not alone, however. Rock after rock rains over the whore, some miss, some hit. Most hit.

I'm not a prostitute! I made a mistake…he made me feel safe…don't make me go back home, my husband, he'll kill me! Or report me, but that's just the same…

You deserve what you got, harlot. You're no better that the street walkers plaguing the city. If your man had not reported you, he'd be a criminal as well. In present, the woman straggles back toward the wall. She cups her hands over her face to protect it. Blood is covering her entire body. As the next stone hits her in the abdomen, she collapses to the ground. Hour after hour, the rocks never cease to rain. The men here are determined to pass judgment to this criminal, and so am I. The bitch is screaming, pleading for us to stop. Her manipulation disgusts me, so I find the largest rock in the pile and throw it with full force against her mouth. It hits, she moans, and blood pours from between her lips. She can no longer speak. About time.

Eventually the whore can no longer move. She twitches now and then, but that's it. After some time, even the spasms stop. A man holds up his hand to signal us to pause. He bends over the woman to feel her pulse. Is she breathing still? He leaves the woman and walks over to a safe distance.

I do not deserve this…

"Continue," is his final word. And we do, with more force than ever before. Everyone wants to be the one who strikes the killing blow for this harlot. For another half hour the woman is buried in rocks. Finally the man checks once again, and this time it is done. It's over.

I feel a sense of accomplishment. One more criminal skank has left the world, and soon, every cheating woman will follow. It's only a matter of time, and I've got all the time in the world.