by Erotickynk


The sexual energy during the limo bus ride out of the city and up the hill to the palatial Dark Encounters estate made the air in the luxury bus absolutely electric. It was like all twenty-four of us were on the way to the wildest girls' night out ever. In a way it was, but the surreal thing was that at least half of us wouldn't be coming back down the hill. And it was the girls who knew that this was a one-way trip for them who were the most excited. Listening to them talk about the girls they'd seen die at the annual orgy and how they imagined it felt left the crotch of my jeans damp and feeling too tight.

Dark Encounters, in addition to their regular shows and the annual orgy, accepts bookings for very expensive private parties. We'd all chipped in - some of us (like me) as much as we could afford with the richer girls topping it up. One girl, Debi, sold her house to help bring our total to Dark Encounter's price.

"I'm not going to need it after tonight," she laughed when she told us, "And my ex-husband can go fuck himself if he thinks he'll inherit it."

I had mixed emotions; On one hand I was excited and sexually aroused being part of this, on the other hand I was anxious; even though I wasn't on the suicide list and was just a volunteer - they call them survivors - there to help my best friend and sometimes lover, Nicole fulfill her ultimate fantasy. The thought of helping other girls die in sexual ways made me feel uneasy, but at the same time I had to admit I was aroused.

I suppose my nervousness was apparent, because as we arrived and trooped out of the limo to walk toward the mansion's front doors, Nicole pulled me aside.

"You're not having second thoughts are you?" she asked, studying my face.

"It's that obvious?" I asked.

Nicole smiled and nodded.

"I need you Kelly." Nicole said with earnest, "I want you to be the one. I need someone I love and who loves me to do it."

I forced a smile and took her hand as we walked up the front stairs with the other girls through the open doors.

In addition to the large expense of bribing doctors and coroners to fake death certificates, funeral directors to tidy up the sometimes-mutilated corpses, and to arrange solid alibis for us survivors, there was also the cost of the drugs and equipment, plus our suicide orgy was expensive because it included the contract fees for Serge. Serge was Dark Encounter's best and would guide us through it all, making sure the suicides went out the way they wanted and help us survivors do it right.

Serge greeted us in the foyer and led us upstairs, giving us a short tour of the members area, letting us peek into our orgy room where the staff were setting up, and at last leading us to a large bedroom.

The room had a luxurious bed in the centre and had 24 chairs placed around the bed so we could all be comfortable. Sitting nude on the bed was a beautiful dark haired girl with pale skin that Serge introduced as Monica. As servants brought us crystal flutes of champagne, Monica had told us about herself.

She had been on contract with Dark Encounters for two years and had helped twelve other girls die in the same method as she had chosen. She asked each of us to tell her if we were suicides or survivors and asked the suicides how they wanted to die. Most chose evisceration - like Nicole - but Blaire and Sandi chose impalement, Blaire vaginal and Sandi rectal.

"We want this to be the best experience in your lives, so I'm going to show you some tools of our trade." Monica said. She showed us the different tools we survivors would be using; heavy hunting knives and gut hooks designed for use on human abdomens, and two different impalement spits, one thick and one thinner - both with polished sharp tips but neither long enough for full out-the-mouth impalement, just a thoroughly invasive deadly one.

She then showed us photo instruction charts of four different evisceration styles; the midline, from mound to sternum; the lap cut from hip bone to hip bone following the bikini line; the v-cut which is two cuts from the top of the pelvic wing on each side to meet at the public bone; and repeated stabbing of the abdomen until the abdominal muscles are destroyed.

Monica then took out two bright plastic devices like oval tubes about six inches long with coloured caps on each end. They looked like the auto injectors people with severe allergies use.

"These are the two most important things for the suicides." she said, then smiled, "I know that you all think you can handle the pain, but trust me - unless you are a hardcore masochist who doesn't care about sexual pleasure you can't, and there's no shame in that."

"Let me tell you a little secret that Dark Encounters doesn't want their guests to know." Monica said, smiling and wrinkling her nose at Serge who frowned at her, "Almost all of the girls are drugged before they die for your entertainment. Some of the evisceration girls have local anesthetic injected into their bellies to numb the skin and muscles."

"All of the snuffers, like Serge here, carry these." Monica held up the two plastic devices, "You may recognize them as Epi-Pens, and they are similar. Instead of giving a blast of epinephrine, the green one with the green cap gives you a high dose of synthetically modified endorphins and oxytocin and the affect comes on strong and fast. You will be high, horny, and you will be overwhelmed with love for the survivor who will be pushing steel into your body."

"This is your best friend, girls." Monica smiled as she held up the green injector, "The modified endorphins will trick your brain into feeling the pain in an intense sexual way. The pain will still be there along with all the new sensations you will be feeling - like having your belly open to the air for the first time in your life or feeling a spit penetrate you deeper than you've ever experienced - but the pain will be orgasmic. But don't doubt for a minute it won't hurt - it will be the most intense pain you've ever felt, but you'll be cumming while it's happening."

"What does the red one do?" asked Sandi.

"It's for after your death orgasms stop." Monica explained solemnly, "In case you live through them and the pain starts pushing through the endorphins, this will delivery a fatal overdose of heroin."

"Holy shit." Nicole whispered.

"Yeah." said Monica, "Within a few seconds the pain will be completely gone and you will be overwhelmed with bliss. Thirty seconds later you won't know your own name and all you will care about is how good you feel. And within a minute your heart will just gently fail."

Carrie giggled.

"I get it." she said, "Green is for go and red is for stop."

"Exactly." Monica smiled at her, "They keep the colours simple, colours we all associate with going and stopping so there's no mistakes."

"There will be two large bowls with more than enough of each, in fact, there will be thirty of each in case things get out of hand." Monica gave us a wicked grin.

"How could it get out of hand?" a blonde girl asked.

"Well, Just be warned that sometimes people who didn't sign up for suicide change their mind during the party." Monica answered then went on; "When you get to the active stage of your party, each suicide can go get a set."

Monica looked to the suicides, still holding the two injectors she showed us, "When you're ready and you want to start - if you're too shy or nervous to ask for it - just hand them and the tool you want used to the girl you want to do you and she'll know."

"What else should we be prepared for?" Debi asked as a server refilled her champagne flute.

"You have to be prepared for loss of body control." Monica said, "Not so much for the suicides, but for the survivors. You suicides won't care when it's happening to you. For the survivors, there will be blood; there will be piss; and there will be vomit. And if any of you suicides cheated and didn't drink your whole bottle of Citralax after dinner last night, there might even be some shit."

"So I hope you survivors have a strong stomach and if you've been to a performance here and have chosen to come back to participate, I imagine you do. Even if you don't, don't worry if you throw up, we are used to body fluids at Dark Encounters so there is no need for embarrassment." Monica smiled at us.

"As for you suicides… be sure you ask for what you need. If you want to be held down, ask. If you want to be swarmed by lots of girls, try to be one of the first. Tell your snuffer if you want it fast or slow, if you want it deep or shallow. And when it starts, just let it happen - don't fight it. Just accept the steel into your body and let the sensations flow through you. The endorphins and oxytocin will make your arousal extremely strong and so long as you don't fight it, it will be the ultimate sexual experience of your life."

We all sat in silence absorbing what Monica told us.

"Do any of you ladies have any other questions?" Serge asked in his smooth deep voice, "No? If you do later, I will be with you for the entire party to make sure your experience is perfect."

Carrie and Debi rose to leave, but Serge motioned them back to their seats.

"No-no, not yet." Serge said, rising himself, "Monica is not here just to inform, but also to demonstrate."

Monica handed Serge her two injectors and scooted to the centre of the bed.

"Oh my god!" Sandi exclaimed, "You're going to …"

Monica smiled; "Yes, I volunteered just for you. For each of you suicides to see what it is like and for you survivors to see what you have to do to help your friends."

Monica laid back and spread her legs wide and stretched her arms out straight form her shoulders. Serge walked a circuit around the bed and pulled up shackles from under the bed-skirt to attach to her wrists and ankles.

"This is what I have chosen - to feel captive and helpless. I find that very arousing." Monica explained, "Serge knows what kind of knife work and organ play I want to experience."

"Organ play?" I asked, again starting to feel nervous.

"You'll see." Monica smiled and laid her head back on the pillow, staring up at the ornate ceiling.

Serge knelt on the bed between her open thighs and began slowly massaging Monica's clit with the ball of his left thumb.

"You're already aroused, mon cher." he said softly.

"Of course." Monica whispered.

"Are you frightened?" Nicole asked softly.

"Of course." Monica whispered again.

"You can move your chairs closer." Serge instructed us, "But do not touch her or me."

We all moved closer, forming a circle of fixated, nervous faces around Monica.

"You can start." Monica said breathlessly, her voice quavering. Still staring at the ceiling, she swallowed with difficulty and we all saw her throat catch. She was scared.

Serge lifted the green injector and flipped the top up with his thumb, pressing it tight against Monica's hip and triggering it. The ‘PUFF' of propellant was loud in the quiet room as it delivered the high dose of endorphins and oxytocin into Monica's body.

In a few seconds, Monica gasped then groaned. She began squirming and pulling against her shackles, her body undulating, her mouth open and her eyes closing. As we watched, her nipples puckered tight and a luster of sweat broke out over her pale body.

"… oh, Serge …" Monica whimpered, "… do it before I change my mind …"

"Yes, my love." Serge whispered to her and pulled a hunting knife from somewhere near his ankle under his pant leg. We all watched as he positioned the tip of the knife into the soft spot just above her public bone with the sharp edge facing upward toward her belly button and began to press.

"… you're doing it …" Monica gasped, a shudder flowing up through her body like a wave.

We watched as the tip of the knife dimpled her skin deep. I had no idea how much force it took to penetrate a human belly slowly until that moment. Monica's belly dimpled deeper and deeper, a shadow appearing around the silver blade. Monica gasped and jerked as the tip broke through the skin, and then moaned as Serge lifted himself up and pressed the blade downward into her with a slow relentless penetration. The blade pulled the skin and flesh around itself as it sunk slowly into her bowels. Serge didn't stop until the hilt pressed tight against her belly and blood puddled around it, stark against her pale skin.

Monica meanwhile was straining as she was penetrated, and as Serge changed the angle of the blade inside her she shuddered again and an arc of clear piss jetted from her crotch and wetted Serge's jeans.

"… oh fuck … oh fuck … oh fuck …" Monica was straining through clenched teeth, "… gut me … oh fuck … gut me like a pig …"

And Serge gutted her. We watched in horrified fascination as Serge expertly sawed the blade in and out of her belly, delving deep with each slow thrust and sliding the blade forward as he opened her belly in the midline fashion. Monica grunted loudly when Serge caught the underside of her belly button and lifted it. We watched as her ‘innie' became and ‘outie' before his blade sliced through it, then it was one long steady slice up to just under her sternum. Monica began to heave and gurgle, her mouth filling with foamy saliva and bile before she closed her lips and swallowed it back down. Blood from her wound oozed and small spurts squirted up from inside to flow down her flanks and onto the white linen of the bed. The coppery smell of it filled the air.

Serge quickly pulled the blade free and slid his hand inside her belly, lifting her heavy and thick descending colon and began stroking it sensually like he would stroke a cock. Monica's response was immediate; her head arched back and her body undulated like she was having an orgasm, and no doubt she was. As he continued to stroke it, he slid his other hand lower inside her (he told us afterward that he had gripped her vagina and massaged her g-spot from inside her open belly).

Monica's orgasms continued for what seemed a long time, her skin growing slick with sweat, the skunky reek of her arm pits and the musky scent of her cunt filling the room and overpowered the scent of her blood.

At last, she arched her back hard, lifting pelvis high and holding herself there, quivering and jerking her body. Then she collapsed with a grunt, the bed shaking from the violence of her last spasm.

Monica moaned horribly, her voice quavering and tinged with pain and fear, then she began to cry. I wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her in her final moments, but Serge had told us not to interfere, so I watched helplessly.

"… I'm done, Serge … I'm done …" Monica whined. But Serge had already pulled the red injector and flipped the top. He pressed it hard against her pelvis and thumbed the trigger. The injector let out a loud ‘PUFF' and kicked in his hand.

Monica moaned weakly, her tense body relaxing, her head lolling to the side. She shuddered one more time and her lips softened and hung loose and open, drool sliding from the corner of her mouth.

We watched as she breathed weakly for half a minute and we were all startled when she gasped and made a sharp snorting sound, her belly rippling with an internal shudder. Then she calmed and sighed. Her chest stopped moving then.

We had just watched Monica live her final moments describing what a gutting would look like, then having it done to her and finally breathing her last. My anxiousness had transformed into a sexual energy. I never thought I would be aroused watching a girl's belly opened and her entrails exposed, but Monica's obvious orgasmic reaction made it erotic for me. I just might be able to do it to Nicole after all.

I felt a hand snake into mine and squeeze hard. I turned to look - it was Nicole, her lips parted, her breathing uneven and desperate.

"Is this really what you want?" I whispered to her.

"Yes." she gasped, nodding her head.

I squeezed her hand.

Our Suicide Party started quietly, some of us nibbling small delicacies and sipping champagne and talking with low voices in small groups. Some were obviously nervous and unable to eat, so they drank more champagne than others. Soon the mood settled and most of the girls started snuggling or making out and the clothes started coming off.

The room was designed for an orgy; a few queen sized beds against the walls for couples or even threesomes, a large grouping of mattresses pushed together in the middle for large group play, and a few sofas and loveseats for those who needed a break or wanted to watch.

On a long sideboard were the tools that Monica showed us, all laid out by size and type, and on a prominent ornate table were two large crystal bowls, one filled with the green injectors and one filled with the red ones.

A lot of the girls were gathered on the mattresses in the centre of the room playing - survivors engaging the suicides in foreplay to get them ready. Nicole and I were on a loveseat beside the crystal bowls kissing and I was playing with her, doing all the things she liked.

"You like being pampered, sweetheart?" I whispered in her ear as I nibbled it, my fingers busy between her tan thighs.

"Oh my, yes" she sighed.

"And you want me to slice open your belly?" I whispered, sliding my fingers up her centre line from mound to upper abdomen.

"More than you know." Nicole breathed, pressing her belly outward, making it firm and round, "Make it hurt, baby. Make it brutal."

I swallowed hard, unsure if I could do as she asked.

Nicole and I both heard the tinkling of the crystal bowls and looked up to see Blaire taking one of each. So Blaire was going first - not what I expected from her; Blaire was always the quiet one - rarely offering an opinion, and seeming to always be a tag-a-long on girls' nights. But here she was being bold.

We watched as Blaire took the two injectors to Serge and spoke softly to him. Serge smiled and rose and allowed Blaire to lead him to the long table where he selected one of the spits, then together they went to one of the beds in the corner of the room.

Nicole and I shared a look, leaning forward and touching foreheads like conspirators.

"I'm dying to go watch." Nicole said.

"Me too." I whispered.

"Do you think it's rude? Or creepy?" Nicole crinkled her nose.

"I don't know. What's the etiquette for voyeurism at Suicide Parties?" I asked and smiled, but the truth was; I didn't know. Would Blaire be okay with us watching? Could we get close, or should we stand off to the side so we didn't distract her

"Let's give them a few minutes." Nicole decided and I agreed, going back to playing with her now creamy sex.

Nicole was well on her way to her first orgasm when we heard the first straining grunt of pain.

It was Blaire.


Nicole sat up from where she had slouched against the arm of the loveseat and looked into the corner. From our vantage point, Serge was blocking our view - all we could see of Blaire was her right foot and it was shaking badly. Nicole looked up into my eyes and I knew she was wanting to go watch Blaire die by impalement, so I made the decision for her; I rose and took her hand, walking her around the orgy going on in the middle of the room.

When we got to the bed, a few others had already gathered around it. Sandi - the other girl who had chosen impalement - was there already and I could see she had an expression of mixed fear and arousal.

Blaire was on her back, her belly muscles clenched and quivering. Her left leg was raised and her right straight down and shaking. She had handfuls of the linen clenched in her fists at her sides. Serge was sitting beside her legs on the bed and was fucking her with the spit, and judging from the length that was still outside of her, the sharp tip of the spit had already penetrated deep into her abdominal cavity through the top of her uterus. I was amazed that she had stayed so quiet while that penetration was happening to her.

Blaire was straining hard like a woman in childbirth, grunting with each thrust of the steel inside her. I could see that she'd already sicked-up some champagne that flowed from the corner of her mouth.

As Serge worked her, he kept pushing the spit a little deeper with each inward thrust and as it progressed its deadly journey inside her, Blaire slowly pressed her head back against the pillow. Suddenly Blaire arched her back and grunted hard, then heaved and gagged, more champagne spewing from her lips, laced with tiny ribbons of blood.

"It's in her stomach." I heard Sandi whisper in awe.

"… more … more …" Blaire gurgled, her eyes still squeezed shut.

Serge laid his hand on Blaire's left hip and pushed. "Roll on your side now." and Blaire did, burying her face in the pillow.

"Here it comes, Blaire." Serge told her and pressed hard on the spit, pushing its entire length inside her.

Blaire's body convulsed as she strained and violent vomiting sounds muffled by the pillow filled the room. We could hear fluid gurgling as she jerked and shook as the spit slid up her gullet. As Serge laid his hand against the bottom of the spit and pushed it as deep as he could, piss sprayed from Blaire's crotch and she farted wetly.

We stood and watched as Blaire convulsed like she was having a seizure. When she started to calm, we could still hear choking sounds and watched as she lifted her left hand, her fingers fluttering across her own hip. Serge understood what the motion meant and pressed the red injector against her hip and - ‘PUFF' - started her rapid blissful death.

As Nicole and I turned away, we saw that not all the girls had come to watch Blaire's impalement; Sara was whimpering in the centre of the orgy bed on the floor and her girlfriend Jade was pushing a thin stiletto into her lower belly.

Jade had the handle in her right hand and was pushing down on the butt of the knife with her left, making sure Sara's penetration was slow and deep. Nicole and I found an empty spot on the orgy bed and snuggled in to be part of Sara's suicide.

Sara was obviously in a state of sexual bliss as the double-edged blade slid deep into her lower abdomen, arching her back and pushing her belly outward, swallowing every deadly inch of polished steel into her body.

When the hilt was pressed tight against the tanned skin of her firm belly, Sara shuddered and squirmed.

"… again …" Sara gasped, and Jade dutifully pulled the long blade out and moved it upward, closer to Sara's belly button and started pressing inward again.

A smile flickered across Sara's lips as the blade dimpled her belly then broke through and sunk slowly hilt deep once more. Her entire body shuddered.

"… again …" Sara groaned and Jade slid the blade out and sunk it deep once more.

I spooned Nicole and we lay facing Sara, listening to "… again … again … again …" over and over as Jade plunged the stiletto into Sara's swelling belly faster and faster. Sara's suicide grew more and more frantic with each penetration, her gasping words turning to whimpers heavy with desperation.

As we watched, I slide my hand down between my pelvis and Nicole's bum and snaked my fingers into her wet swollen sex, lubricating them before I slid two up her ass. Nicole pressed herself back against me.

As the dagger slid slowly in and out, Sara's belly was swelling because she was bleeding internally, some of her wounds seeping and leaving crimson trails down her flanks. Jade was careful not to penetrate Sara's stomach but soon was running out of fresh areas for the knife.

Sara's face was growing alarmingly pale as well - breaking out in a cold sweat - and her voice becoming weaker.

"… don't feel good …" Sara whimpered, clawing at her sweaty cheeks with shaking fingers. Jade came up on her knees and leaned forward, pressing the tip of the stiletto against the left side of Sara's chest, feeling for the gap between her ribs next to her sternum.

"Just one more, baby." Jade said and pushed the stiletto deep into Sara's chest. Sara's eyes opened wide and her back arched. She died quickly - her heart penetrated by the blade.

Jade let go of the knife and sat on her heels.

"It's what she wanted." Jade said, seeming to be in a state of shock.

Nicole turned toward me, slithering out of the tangle of our legs and arms and pulling herself off my fingers, pressing her belly against mine.

"I need to cum." she growled in that sensual husky voice she got when she was over-aroused. And right there beside Sara's cooling corpse we explored each other with tongues, lips, fingers, and hands - wringing orgasms from each other's sweaty, overheated bodies. Our desires grew more frantic and I could feel the energy in the room rising with our own. All around us were moans and gasps of orgasms and the room began to stink of sweat and sex - the musky scent of sweat wet hair, the skunky reek of fear-sweat from arm pits, and the earthy sexual smell from cunts oozing with arousal. And blood. We could smell blood.

The Dark Encounters staff were very skilled, and removed each body as discretely as was possible - some - like Blaire - we didn't even notice. Mind you, between deaths we distracted ourselves with sex. It was an orgy in every sense of the word.

As girls began to die closer together, things went to plan, with only one exception; the heroin overdose didn't work fast enough for a girl named Karyn who I barely knew. She writhed and wailed on one of the beds for five minutes, her entrails hanging from her opened belly while Serge gave her a total of three red injections before she calmed and eventually died. It wasn't lost on us though that despite her crying, she continued to masturbate until she lost consciousness.

But just as Karyn's wailing ended on one of the beds, Debi's began right behind us on the orgy mattresses. She had two girls helping her go out - one using a gut hook to make a lap cut across her bikini line while the other stroked her body and held her down. As the sensations of having her belly opened from hipbone to hipbone were hitting her hard, her legs were jerking and involuntarily kicking. Nicole and I moved to Debi's side and each of us took one of her legs, our arms looped behind her knees, hugging her shins to our chests and spreading her thighs wide.

"Make it good, girls!" Debi cried out as she rolled her head back and forth, "Oh god, make it good!"

As her girl tugged the gut hook in a low loop across Debi's belly, Debi would lift her head and crane her neck to watch herself being opened before crying out loudly. Then her head would flop back and she would squeeze her eyes shut and arch her lower back, pushing her belly outward as she strained and growled. She wanted her gutting so badly.

When the cut was complete, her girl dropped the gut hook and slid her hand inside Debi's open belly, sliding her fingers amongst her intestines. Debi strained and shuddered, gritting her teeth and arching her back as piss gushed from her slit.

"Nnngh!" Debi strained as her girl played with her insides, "Fuck me up good! Fucking destroy me!"

Nicole and I held her legs and watched as Debi experienced waves of what we started to call paingasms.

Things were moving faster, taking on an air of unbridled perverted lust.

In the midst of Debi's prolonged orgasmic death, I heard Sandi's gentle voice quavering in a desperate animal whimper from my right. She sounded scared, but when I turned my head I saw that she was laying with her head right next to my hip, her knees up and legs spread with Serge's muscular arm working between her open thighs. Like hidden threads in whole cloth, I could smell the dark scent of her open and gaped anus.

Sandi was receiving her rectal impalement and appeared to be lost in sexual bliss.

I've never seen a girl shaking that violently or making such hopeless, sexual sounds. Serge was fucking her with the spit, sliding it in and out of her bowels relentlessly. Sandi's belly was flaccid, her arms limp at her sides, only her thighs jerked and twitched and her belly and breasts jiggled like jelly.

Across from me, Nicole eased off on holding Debi's right leg I realized she was no longer kicking, so I followed suit. Debi's thighs flopped open as her main girl continued exploring her insides, her right hand elbow deep as though she was reaching for Debi's heart.

"… fuck yeah … fuck yeah … get a hold of it …" Debi was gasping, "… squeeze it …" and I suppose her girl did squeeze whatever ‘it' was because Debi grunted loudly and shuddered, her body wracked with an orgasm.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught Nicole scrambling to her feet and rushing away, so I turned and slid my hand under Sandi's neck, supporting her head. Sandi's eyes were wide open staring up at the ornate ceiling, but I'm not sure if she was seeing anything. She continued to quiver violently as Serge fucked her with the spit. I looked down her shaking body and into Serge's eyes.

"Is she cumming?" I asked, worried that Sandi wasn't feeling her bliss. Serge smiled and slid two fingers into Sandi's cunt and lifted them back out - they were slick and covered in milky girl cum that hung in tendrils from his knuckles.

Like he did with Blaire, Serge was pushing the spit deeper with each thrust until Sandi grunted and gagged. The next thrust made her heave, so I knew Serge was probing her stomach with the sharp tip of the spit. What I did next I did on pure impulse.

The energy in the room had been building quickly, growing more frenzied and wanton as girls began dying. It was no longer turn-based; multiple guttings were being done at the same time. Girls were groaning, straining, grunting, and screaming. And all that perverse sexual energy was affecting me. I felt fevered and dizzy, unable to focus. The room felt like it was turning and twisting around me, and for the past hour my sexual arousal had been growing in the pit of my lower belly to the point it felt like a knotted muscle inside my cunt.

So as Sandi started gagging and heaving, I lowered my face to hers and kissed her firmly on her lips and she responded - her lips parting and our tongues slithering across each other. I'm not 100% sure what drove me to it. Part of it was feeling empathy for Sandi who was alone on the orgy bed - I wanted her to feel like someone was there with her. The other part was pure perversion; I wanted to feel her death, to be part of it, and I knew what was about to happen before it did.

As Serge pressed the spit deep inside her belly and penetrated her stomach, Sandi arched her back and puked hard. I pressed my mouth tight to hers and her vomit erupted into my mouth. I could taste champagne, bile, and blood. Some spurted out from between our lips and some I swallowed. I did my best to stay connected with Sandi, but I knew what was coming and I knew Sandi was about to lose control.

Though I wasn't watching, I felt it when Serge pushed even deeper, sliding the spit up Sandi's gullet. She arched her back violently - her body finally coming to life. She thrashed and squirmed on the orgy bed, flailing her arms, her hands slapping her own belly, her heels slamming wildly against the mattress. I wrapped my arms around her, pressing myself against her sweaty, fevered flesh as she thrashed and gagged frantically. This was insanity and I felt insane. I heard the ‘PUFF' of the injector and within a few seconds, Sandi's body grew flaccid once more.

I let her go and sat up on the orgy bed, watching Sandi's eyes glaze over as she died while hearing another girl crying out in agony and ecstasy somewhere in the room. I was gasping, trying to catch my breath when Nicole tugged at my arm.

I turned to see Nicole like I've never seen her before; her eyes were wide with desperation; she was trembling; her expression was one of insane need. She dropped a red and green injector and a large hunting knife on the mattress between us.

"Please? Please?" Nicole begged breathlessly. My insanity was still high in that moment, so without hesitating I placed my hand flat on her chest and pushed her back onto the orgy mattress. Knee-walking forward, I lifted her legs and pushed them wide apart, pressing down on her inner thighs. I could smell her over-aroused cunt and even caught the musky scent of her anus, which throughout the orgy I had finger-fucked more than once.

I picked up the green injector and popped the top with my thumb like Serge did, then pushed it hard against her inner thigh and triggered it. ‘PUFF!' And less than 15 seconds later Nicole got that unfocused gaze and moaned. I picked up the hunting knife and as two other girls joined us to stimulate Nicole in her final moments, I pressed the tip right on her pubic bone and started to push it into her.

I heard Serge's voice from behind me; "You're on the bone."

"I know." I said and leaned into it, my eyes fixed on Nicole's.

The next moments passed like a blurred nightmare. I lost my sense of time and place - gutting Nicole became my world and time seemed to pass too quickly. My sexual excitement felt even more like a fevered insanity.

I felt the tip of the knife dimpling Nicole's mound just above the pubic bone as I leaned more and more weight into it. Nicole cried out wordlessly, her thighs closing on my shoulders then opening wide.

"You want it? You want it?" I hissed at Nicole.

"… yes … give it to me …" her voice was desperate and needy, "... push …"

So I pushed.

I felt the tip pop through skin and sink into muscle and on the way in I could feel the edge scraping against her pubic bone. Below the knife I could see her cunt oozing milky cum and her anus open and leaking beige mucus. The smell of sex and ass filled the air around my face. I kept pushing until the hilt pressed hard against her pubic bone. Then I pulled back on the blade and started to saw.

Nicole shrieked and tried to buck me off, but the girls around us helped hold her down as I sawed the knife in and out of her lower abdomen, working my way upward.

It takes a lot of effort to cut open a human abdomen I discovered, no matter how sharp the blade is. As I slowly opened up her long belly, plunging and withdrawing the knife over and over like I watched Serge do to Monica, Nicole seemed to give in to it, accepting what was happening to her. She'd wanted this after all, even begged me for it.

As I neared the underside of her belly button I felt the muscles along her flanks tighten and she lifted herself up on her elbows, gazing into my eyes, her expression a mixture of a girl forlorn and one overwhelmed by sexual bliss.

"… mmm god … mmm god …" she strained, then gasping; "… cumming …"

And she did cum - a long draw out orgasm as I cut through her belly button and her lower abdomen opened like an overstuffed purse, fat coils of intestine plumping up out of her. I pulled the knife out and dropped it on the floor, sliding my hands deep into her belly, feeling the impossible slick softness of her intestines, stroking them, squeezing them, pulling them from her. And through it all, Nicole strained and gasped, gripping my upper arms in her hands and squeezing so tight I was sure she was bruising me.

But at that moment I didn't care that handprint bruises would be frowned on when I went back to work at the cocktail lounge tomorrow night - I was too caught up in the frenzy of the evening, plus I was beginning to realize that I may not be going to work tomorrow. In fact, I may not be getting back on the limo bus tonight.

In the past half hour I had begun to notice that a few of the survivors had voluntarily changed roles - a third girl had been impaled, and right beside Nicole, Jade was being swarmed by six girls, one of whom was brutally sawing a knife in and out of her lower belly, making a crude and uneven lap cut.

As Nicole began convulsing and making small gasping sounds, the two girls helping her moved to play with Jade.

As Nicole collapsed back onto the bloody mattress, I realized that tonight had turned into a feeding frenzy of sexual death. Sliding my bloody hands out of Nicole's belly I watched her roll slowly onto her side and curl up, shivering and whimpering. I looked around and couldn't find the red injector and I realized something horrible about myself - I didn't care. Nicole was suffering and I … just … didn't … care …

I was sweating; I stank of blood and cunt; and I was so horny my belly ached inside like a muscle cramp and I could think of only one way to relieve that arousal. My hair was matted to my sweaty face and I could taste the blood and bile from Sandi's vomit. I tried to stand up, but my legs weren't working right - they were weak and trembling. I tried again and got halfway up before my legs gave out and I stumbled forward onto the hard floor all knees and elbows. In the end I crawled across the floor on hands and knees and clawed my way up onto the love seat beside the table with the crystal bowls. There were still injectors in both bowls but I could only reach the green ones, so I dug in the bowl and grabbed two, dropping them twice before I got them out and immediately dropped them in my lap because my hands were shaking so bad.

I'm a hot mess …

I sit slumped on the loveseat, still trying to catch my breath as I watch Jade's torment go on and on. Movement across the room catches my eye and I look to see a girl on her hands and knees trying to crawl, dragging ropes of intestines hanging from her belly across the carpet. She is moaning and two other girls are crawling with her, their faces showing delight at her torment.

Then Serge is there, standing over me, holding the hunting knife I used on Nicole.

"I finished her." he says matter-of-factly, "You lost the red injector."

I nod - words escape me.

"You didn't get one for yourself." Serge says, motioning to my lap.

I look down and see the two green injectors lying on the loveseat cushion between my open thighs.

"No." I manage, "I didn't."

"It's contagious, this madness. Isn't it Kelly?" Serge says with a twisted smile.

I swallow and nod - not trusting myself to speak - my mouth suddenly dry. I am still trembling, still breathless, still … craving.

Serge picks up one of the green injectors and presses it to one of my thighs - ‘PUFF' - it burns a little as the synthetic endorphins and oxytocin are pushed deep into my flesh. Serge lifts the knife still wet with Nicole's blood so I can see it and waits.

I feel a strong wash of cold rise swiftly through my abdomen - this is fear bordering on hopeless terror knowing I'm about to lose the will to resist this madness. It is though my body recognizes the foreign nature of the hormones and is fighting them, knowing for certain what is about to happen. But quickly there follows the flood of arousal and yearning and I hear myself whimper.

"… fuck …" I breathe the word as these sensations overpower me. More than before it feels like a swollen knot of clenched muscle deep in my lower abdomen - right where my cunt and womb live.

Legs trembling, I lift my knees up high, reaching down and grasping my ankles with my hands, pulling my heels to either side of my bum and resting my feet on the edge of the cushions of the loveseat. It's a sexual pose, but I know Serge isn't going to fuck me, or even finger me. He smiles and lowers himself to his knees between my open thighs, his intense eyes gazing into mine as he positions the knife against my pubic bone.

"Remember what Monica said; ask for what you want." Serge says, "Shallow or deep; slow or swift."

"… deep …" I gasp, my voice quavering "… relentless …"

I feel weak again, shaky. My arms and thighs tremble, my belly quivers and I feel sick to my stomach.

I'm so scared.

I hear myself whine - it is brief but loud, like the pained shriek of a little girl. Then I jerk as I feel the sharp pressure of the tip pressing down between my open thighs. It is pinching my flesh between steel and pelvic bone and I realize Serge could alter the penetration either way; down into my cunt, or up slightly to penetrate my belly.

"… oh god …" I whimper. Whereas before as other girls were dying time had sped up, but now that it is my turn it has slowed to a crawl.


The words burn behind my eyes. Why is it my turn? I came here to help Nicole, to watch and participate in the deaths of other girls - girls who craved this torture. I was supposed to go home on the limo bus - back to my life, back to my hopes and dreams. I never wanted this. I never asked for this. Sweet jesus, why am I here?

I shriek as the tip breaks through skin and muscle and the heavy steel blade sinks relentlessly into my belly. Steel invading my most tender flesh, grinding against my pubic bone, penetrating my gut. I lift my chin and press my head back against the loveseat cushion, teeth grinding, eyes squeezed shut, my hands gripping my ankles so tight the knuckle joints crackle.

And the pain. Oh god, the pain is more intense than I could imagine, but with it is a crystal sharp explosion of sexual pleasure that radiates through my abdomen. Now I understand what Monica meant; the pain is there but along with it intense pleasure. My body violently welcomes the knife like a lover, my belly swallowing it deep. But the pain is white hot and rises like a shaft right through my core.

I am straining, grunting, grinding my teeth like a woman in labour as the knife slides deeper and the shaft of intense pain grips the sac of my stomach like a vice. I feel it contracting, becoming a hard ball under my sternum - I know I'm going to throw up but it's never felt so intense before, such a sudden and violent tightening. I don't have time to open my mouth before the vomit erupts up my gullet to spray out between my clenched teeth. I feel it spatter over my body, my face, my hair.

"Don't touch her." I hear Serge's low voice speak to someone. In my agony I am aware of growing body heat around me, through slitted eyes I see that the girls who were with Jade are gathering around me, gazing down hungrily as they sit on the arms of the loveseat or kneel on the floor.

"We'll just watch." one girl says and I see hungry smiles - they are like vultures drawn to a kill. Serge must sense I am distracted by them because he wiggles the knife inside me that sends waves of sharp pain and tingles over my thighs, bum, and up my belly to my nipples.

I swallow and puke again as I feel the hilt of the knife pressed firm to my mound - this time I manage to open my mouth and it comes up in thick globs that coat my chin and cheeks. The knife in my belly feels like the sensation of that first anal penetration of a cock - it's in and now it is time to relax and let the fucking and pleasure begin. But this fucking is going to kill me.

It's fucking going to KILL me!

"… mommy! …" I wail, sounding like a fool; a cocky little girl who has bitten off more than she can chew and is having her virginity stolen from her. I feel the suction inside me as Serge pulls back on the knife then pushes it back in.



I hear the words in my own quavering voice echoing in my head as Serge grants my last request. He will go deep. He will be relentless. I can tell by the steadiness of the knife gripped in his hand.

The pain never lessens as the blade plunges in and out of my belly - I can feel every merciless cut burning my skin and muscles, slicing and shredding my intestines. Serge saws the long hunting knife in and out of my belly like an infernal sewing machine, splitting my abdomen from cunt to sternum instead of binding it together. I am proud that I am able to keep my grip tight on my ankles throughout my gutting despite the sweat that now covers my entire body; that I am able to arch my back and push my belly forward to swallow that sharp steel over and over. It is indeed sweet agony that I experience, but the endorphins and oxytocin helps the experience become orgasmic as well.

Despite the pain, my body is alive like never before; tingles wash up and down my flesh, deep in the muscles and shallow over my feverish skin. Orgasmic cramping in the core of my abdomen from my cunt to my stomach leave me breathless, pissing, and heaving all at once. As I strain in my orgasm and agony, I feel my asshole gape and I shit myself. Monica was right - suicides don't care when they lose control of their bodies.

"Good girl." I hear Serge's kind, wonderful voice, "Let go of everything." And right on the heels of his words comes the sound of retching as one of my audience vomits and I feel the splash down my right thigh and arm. And I don't care - the oxytocin has bonded me to her and vomiting on me is felt as a gesture of love. I look up and see it is one of the blond girls who came here to help another die.

"Fuck it." she says as she dry heaves, "I'm doing it. I'm fucking doing it." and I see the blur of her staggering away and hear the clatter of her digging in the bowls for her injectors.

I want to tell her it is the best choice. I want to tell her the ecstasy I am feeling, but the knife is still moving in and out of my belly and the pain and intense pleasure draws me back into my private sexual hell.

Then unbelievable to me, and almost overwhelming to the point of losing consciousness, when the blade splits my belly button, cutting through the last of my oblique muscles, my lower abdomen parts wide open and I feel the pressure of my entrails release. In that instant my orgasm multiplies in intensity causing me to grunt out one word;

"… cumming!"

It is during that thundering storm of orgasm pounding inside my body that my fingers grow weak and my ankles slip from my grip, my thighs flop open, my arms drop to my sides. I slump back against the loveseat back as Serge finishes his cut, stopping just short of slicing into my stomach. I lay limp, my body flaccid but trembling as the echoing rumbles of that orgasm pulse through my body.

I hear a low dying-animal moan and realize that I am the one making that sound. My body continues to twitch in post orgasmic bliss as my entrails slither out of my belly across my crotch to puddle on the floor between my limp thighs. I'm a dead girl. Soon light and sound will dim and the Dark Encounter's staff will come retrieve my body and take it away to a secret place where a car accident will be concocted, my gutted belly will be reworked to look like an autopsy was performed, and my parents will be given the sad news; "Death was instantaneous. She didn't feel any pain".

That is the future of Kelly Anne Borsma - a girl that lived a boring life but found the ultimate sexual intensity before she left the world. All that is left is the dying and dying is something I can accept now. Even if I could be saved, I know I could never be satisfied with the mundane nature of my average life. This experience was my penultimate - nothing before that knife penetrating my belly and nothing that could occur in my future matters. I know that even if through some surgical miracle I could be mended, I would find myself back here to do it again.

And perhaps that's what made me choose what I did - after being part of this frenzied orgy of sex and death, how could I return to my life? What point would there be to it?

Through the fog that is engulfing me I hear my name …

"Kelly." Serge is standing over me, holding two injectors in his hand; one red and one green. I stare at them through drooping eyelids.

"I want you to make your last choice." he says, wiggling the injectors to get my attention.

From my right I hear a girl shriek. It is the blond girl who puked on me who's belly just swallowed a knife. She lays surrounded by the few girls who are left, squirming and crying out in pain and bliss.


I motion toward the green one with my left hand, the movement spastic and weak. Serge smiles and presses it to my chest - ‘PUFF' - and in a dozen heartbeats the feelings come back strong.

"… cumming …" I whimper.

"I know." Serge says gently and bends to kiss my sweaty forehead.

And as the flood of bliss washes warm through my ruined body once more, I let my head flop to the right and watch the blond girl's heels drumming on the floor as she is being gutted. I don't even notice when my eyes close.