ASPEC Chamber 2.0 - Fatal Fuck

by Erotickynk


I've thought about suicide for a long time. Life isn't easy for me, and making friends is difficult and having a lover is impossible, so I've been lonely most of my life.

I was diagnosed with Asperger's when I was five, then later with high functioning Autism when they put Asperger's on the spectrum. Other people's emotions have always been a mystery to me - I know they have them, because I have them, it's just that I can't read them in other people. The other thing is I can't stand being touched. Well, that's not 100% true; I can't stand being touched by a person; my mom said that even being touched as a baby would send me into trembling fits with my fists clenched in front of my face and my chest hitching as I sobbed. Being touched by dogs or machines is okay, in fact I find being touched by machines to be very arousing. I have my own machines at home and use them a lot - my machines fuck me, and make me feel loved.

At least once a week I walked past the ASPEC machine in Central Park and if I see it's being used, I'd go stand beside it and listen to the person inside. It's mostly girls who use it, but I've heard a couple guys in there too. Hearing their moans and screams as the ASPEC works their bodies and gives them a final orgasm is arousing, especially the eviscerations and impalements. I like to lay my hand on the chamber and feel the heat and vibrations of the machinery inside, and close my eyes, imagining what is happening to the person as I listen to them, and secretly wishing it was me in there.

I've even checked out the menu when it's not being used, but I can't find what I want. The closest to my fantasy is impalement, but it's not quite perfect; I want to be held tight and fucked to death - fucked belly deep and made to cum hard then dropped and left to die in the afterglow of being used so hard.

My own machines that I play with aren't as powerful as the ASPEC or have a deep enough stroke to do me the way I want; a sharp cock pushed up my vagina, through my uterus and into the squishy ropes of my belly and fucked so hard it damages me beyond medical rescue and after my orgasm, to be released and alone. That's how I've always fantasized my death - lying broken and used, bleeding inside as I slowly fade away.

I even wrote a letter to Die Happy out in Las Vegas and asked them why being fucked to death by machinery wasn't an ASPEC option, but months went by without an answer, so I figured they were just another corporation who were hungry for money and didn't really care about people like me.

So imagine my surprise when I got a phone call from Brian, who said he was the head of product development at Die Happy and was interested in my idea. As we talked, he told me I wasn't the only one who'd told Die Happy about a fantasy that ASPEC couldn't deliver. He said his team was working on ASPEC 2.0 which was programmed for pure brutality - no pleasant voice easing people into their final sex act; no softness inside the chamber; in other words - no mercy.

"It's like being raped by a robot." Brian said, and I felt myself oozing between my thighs, making a mess of my underpants.

"I'd like that." I said, and my voice hitched with excitement when I said it.

Brian asked if I'd be willing to be the first test subject and I said I would, and just like that I triggered a series of events that led me to be inside ASPEC 2.0, naked, and fucked to death by a machine.

I told him I couldn't fly to Las Vegas because of my disability - the thought of being in an aluminum tube stuffed full of people would drive me so deep inside myself that it would take weeks to re-emerge. Brian said they could fly the ASPEC 2.0 to New York and set it up for a public test if I qualified. Doing it in public aroused me even more, strangely enough.

Over the course of two months, they sent three psychologists and a physician to my apartment one at a time to test my mental, emotional, and physical status and they deemed me fit and able to make the decision for an assisted sexual suicide. The doctor also measured my body; the length of my belly and the depth of my pussy by having me push a smooth tapered dildo inside me until it fit, then harder until it hurt; then harder still until it started to open my cervix.

Brian called to tell me the good news that I was accepted, then conducted a long detailed interview on how I would like it to happen. Then he told me that it would be a public event and that lots of people might show up to watch me, plus it would be filmed and included on the Die Happy website to show others what ASPEC 2.0 was capable of.

"Are you okay with that?" Brian asked, saying he was worried about my disability getting in the way of me enjoying my assisted suicide. I told him that so long as they didn't get close enough to touch me, I'd be fine. I told him the thought of being watched as I was fucked to death by a brutal machine was both nerve-wracking and arousing me.

We set a date.

I admit I was feeling a growing anxiety as my time approached, and even more-so when Die Happy started advertising the event, using pictures of my nude body to tease people about their newest volunteer. They lived up to their promise not to show my face because I wouldn't have been able to handle my coworkers and family freaking out and trying to stop me from my assisted sexual suicide.

It got crazy. News channels started running stories about the 'mystery girl' who was going to test out the ASPEC 2.0 right there in Central Park. Die Happy wouldn't confirm the date, but as they started to truck in the pieces of the machine and assemble it near the original ASPEC, people gathered during the day to watch and some even took to camping out overnight. They were dedicated and didn't want to miss the show.

People were still using the original ASPEC, and these were the type who craved notoriety, with news crews interviewing them as the door of the ASPEC yawned open and they stripped down before they climbed in. A few even wore those little video cameras for the news crews and their gruesome sexual deaths were recorded for posterity. Their moans and ecstatic screams were arousing to me, knowing I would soon be joining them. Some of those videos made my tummy quiver as I watched them over and over while I masturbated.

The first two I liked were girls using what was called 'The Tentacle' - a semi-soft dildo that was designed to grow inside a person. The news reporters said that this one was especially designed for anal insertion and was guaranteed to worm its way through all five segments of the large intestine and even tickle the sphincter that was at the end of the small intestine. That depth of penetration wasn't necessarily fatal, but the violence of its gyrations increased the deeper it got - and it wouldn't stop until the girl's heart failed. Those girls - like me - wanted to be fucked to death. I found it interesting that they both took it belly down, and I wondered if it was so they could imagine a living creature invading their bodies that way. I wanted to watch my machine as it fucked me.

I like machines.

Another girl lay on her back as her belly was cut open and died in orgasm as her bowels rolled and convulsed with peristalsis while the ASPEC played inside her open, wet belly.

There was a girl who opted for a fatal belly expansion with pressurized air. She chose to listen to club dance music while it happened and begged for more all the way through. I couldn't believe how large her belly got before her intestines burst and killed her. There was a second girl who opted for a belly inflation using fluid injected with a large needle. Watching her was erotic, but she was silent all the way through and died peacefully.

The one that was the most intense was an older woman who asked for hard bondage and to be blindfolded while she was done. The ASPEC put milking tubes on her nipples that sucked hard while she was impaled right up through her vagina, uterus, through her bowels and into her stomach. It was a messy, brutal death as she vomited violently, but I could see she was having convulsive orgasms all the way through it.

I realized why they all aroused me - each girl wanted total destruction of their bellies, and ultimately that is what I wanted.

I called Brian the night before the debut.

"I've been watching the girls."

"Does it scare you?" he asked me.

"A little." I admitted, "But it arouses me more."

"That's good."

"Some of the girls vomit."

"Yes. The body can only handle so much."

"Do you think it feels good? Or does it take away the pleasure?"

"It feels good." Brian assured me, "We've measured orgasmic responses in the lab and they stay strong. Think of it as a total body ejaculation - when it happens you won't care what kind of fluid is gushing out of you."

That made me shudder - in a good way.

"Will I vomit?" I asked.

"You might. Will you mind?"

"No." I said, thinking about the ejaculation thing.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"I hope so."

"Will you be able to sleep tonight?" Brian asked.

"I doubt it."

"I could send one of our medics over with a sedative." Brian offered.

"No." I said, "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

"Good girl." Brian said.

"Brian?"

"Yes?"

"Will it be brutal?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes." I whispered, "I want to be overwhelmed."

"You will be. I promise."

They picked me up at my apartment at six the next morning. I'd showered, drank a yoghurt drink, and only wore a silk kimono. I couldn't see the point of wearing clothes - my nude body would be cremated right after the performance anyway.

They smuggled me to Central Park and the ASPEC 2.0 in one of the Die Happy technician's vans to make it look like just another day of calibration. But the machine was ready and the cycles had been tested for two days with flexible test dummies - I was going to be the first live test.

I wish I could say I wasn't nervous, but I was. As we rolled through Central Park with a police motorcycle escort, I started to feel real fear. This was it; I was about to be the first person fucked to death in a new machine. The medic who was in the van with me noticed my trembling, the beads of sweat on my upper lip, my nervous swallowing. Even I could smell the skunky fear-sweat coming from my armpits.

"I can give you something." she offered.

"I think I might need it." I admitted, "Nothing too strong, just enough to take the edge off."

"I have something that will arouse and relax you a little." she said, opening the small backpack she wore and taking out a pre-loaded syringe. She injected it into the crook of my arm and I felt the flood of warmth immediately travel down my belly to centre in my sex.

"It's a mild solution of the Trinity Cocktail."

"The one that killed those girls?"

"Yeah. But this dose doesn't make you throw up and isn't fatal. It just makes you horny."

"It's working." I said and felt my face flush.

"You like the feeling?"

"Oh yes."

"Good, the ASPEC 2.0 will be injecting you with more while it does the deed."

"Fucks me to death." I clarified.

"Yes. Fucks you to death."

"But it will make me cum."

"Guaranteed." she answered, "I'll tell you a little secret; the ASPEC injects the cocktail into every user without them knowing it so they die cumming."

"That's kind of you." I said and meant it; one of my deepest fears about this whole thing was what if my experience was horrible? What if once it was too late to stop I was in agony and died in terror and pain.

The van stopped and I could hear the murmuring of the crowd outside. The side door slid open and Brian climbed in. I could see that the entrance to the ASPEC 2.0 was right beside the open van door. The muddied voices of the crowd were louder with the door open, but I ignored it and concentrated on Brian as he sat beside me.

"Did you get your injection?"

"Yes." I answered, "It feels nice."

"And you know what is going to happen to you when this starts?" he asked.

"Yes. Held tight. Penetrated deep. Given a few seconds to get used to the feeling, then fucked deeper and deeper until it becomes fatal."

"And fucked harder than you've ever been fucked. Once it starts, it's going to puncture your uterus and you'll feel it thrusting inside your abdomen." Brian said, "That's when you'll get the full dose of the cocktail."

"And I'll start cumming."

"Yes, and it won't stop." Brian said, "Even when the ASPEC releases you, your orgasms will continue."

"Until I'm dead."

"Even after clinical death." Brian said, "Our research shows that a person can remain aware for up to ten minutes after their heart stops. We think it's a state of euphoria, which is a nice ending to a life."

"Yes. That will be nice." I said, then I craned my neck to see outside, "How big is the crowd?"

"A couple thousand." Brian said, "Do you want to get up in front of them first? Say something?"

"God no."

"Okay." Brian said, "Our legal team has already started to arrange your aftercare; your death certificate is ready, just waiting for time of death; your will is ready; another team is packing your belongings, and as soon as you are cremated a team will visit your parents and give them all your details and your remains."

"And my letter to them."

"Yes, and your letter." Brian said, "It was a nice sentiment telling them none of this was their fault."

"Thank you. They were good parents and did their best."

"Okay, ready to go inside?"

"Yes." I said and felt a quiver deep in my lower belly - part fear and part hunger to be the first penetrated by this new machine. They stripped off my kimono and dressed me in a Die Happy worker's cover-all and hustled me out of the van and into the maintenance entrance.

Brian helped me up and out of the van and in two steps we were through the door of the ASPEC. It was a geodesic dome that was divided into two sections. The rear one that we entered was where all the machinery lives. It was there that I stripped off my cover-all, then Brian led me into the actual chamber.

The triangular windows were electronically frosted, so no one outside would be able to see me until the ASPEC started in on me. There was a thin mattress pad and above it was the machine that was about to fuck me to death; it had mechanical legs and arms - the legs to keep it balanced and the arms to grip my body and align it with the mechanical penis that would penetrate and impale me.

Brian helped me lay down on the mattress pad.

"Do I spread my legs?" I asked, looking up at the heavy machine that was going to give me the fuck of my life.

"No, keep your thighs together." Brian said, "The unit had sensors that will find your vagina, cervix, and uterus. The thrusting will feel better that way. It will make it more intrusive. That's what you want, right?"

"Yes." I said, "Like rape."

"It's going to rape you."

I shivered at the thought.

"You still okay with the depth settings you chose?"

"Yes." I said, nodding. They had me answer dozens of questions and make a series of selections through their online interface. I had chosen the speed of the thrusts, the progression of the depth, and a limiter so it would be hammering at my stomach, but not penetrating it. I know many women opt for a total impalement like the one I'd watched one the night before, but I wanted a few seconds of calm at the end before I died, and I knew if I had a metal shaft pounding upand down my gullet the panic would set in as I choked to death.

"It's programmed to rapidly increase the depth as your orgasm begins." Brian said, "You'll see the flashing lights once that starts. You won't last long after that."

"Okay."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Any final words?"

I could hear the murmuring of the crowd through the open maintenance door and knowing that soon the windows would turn clear and thousands of people in the park and millions online would be watching me do this was both scaring me and exciting me. I've always been a very private person, so to do this publically was the opposite of what I'd usually want, but there-in lies part of the thrill. I've never been fucked in front of anyone (or even by anyone) so if I was surrendering to being fucked to death I might as well surrender to being watched while it happened to me.

"I'm sorry." I began, knowing some people had clever last words, but I started rambling, "I really don't know what to say right now. I'm really excited ... I'm ... I'm really excited and really nervous ... um ... gosh, I wish I knew how to express myself. This is ... a little bit overwhelming for me ... this ..."

Brian sat beside me and put me at ease. He asked if I wanted to pray or make a final call. He even suggested I might want to eat a special food that I liked, but I said I was ready for it to start. He said I seemed really ready and I took that as a compliment. Then he stood and stepped to the access door and touched a metal pad and the opaque windows turned clear and the sound of the crowd cheering roared outside.

And now ...

Brian steps out of the suicide chamber and gives me a smile and a wink, then hits the button that closes the door and it hisses down and clamps in place, a barrier between me and the cheering crowd. I am now alone in the bowels of the machine that is going to kill me, and that sudden realization sends shiver-bumps up my back.

I suddenly feel a wave of regret rush through me - buyer's remorse I suppose, but I'd bought my suicide by volunteering to be a public guiney pig and there is nothing I can do to stop it from happening now. I will be dead within two minutes and the thought scares me badly.

Regret #1: I like Brian for how he treated me kindly and respectfully, and part of me wishes he could have stayed with me. My Autism makes human touch an overwhelming experience, but I think I could have let him touch me. At the very least I would have liked him to hold my hand as the ASPEC 2.0 raped me.

Regret #2: I suddenly realize I am hungry - my belly is growling which means it was a little bloated with saliva and air. Another yoghurt drink would have been nice and I wished I'd taken him up on his offer to let me have a last snack.

Regret #3: And this was a big one; I recall the vomiting woman I watched be impaled, how she let the ASPEC put milking machines on her nipples and how it helped make her roll with orgasms. I suddenly want that, but it is too late.

Regret #4: I'm not sexually aroused, and I know that if I'd taken care of Regret #3 I would be, because that's always how I start my masturbation time at home; tease and pinch my nipples before I turn on my machines and let them fuck me senseless.

I lie here listening to the muffled cheers of the crowd and can see them pressed against the barricades out of the corner of my eye - some are dancing and jumping up and down, eager to watch the show. At first I am embarrassed to do what I want to do, but then I think who cares? I reach up and pinch and twirl my nipples between my thumbs and forefingers and am rewarded by that sweet familiar tingling as they pucker and tighten, and that tingle tunnels deep into my belly right to my crotch.

Then the machine above me wakes up and two arms reach down and two mechanical hands grip my hips tight and lift my pelvis up until my mound presses against smooth metal. There is no give in their grip - I am held tight, and the pressure of the two thumbs pressing into the hollow places inside the wings of my pelvis make a sweet, aching pleasure inside my lower belly. It is compressing the meat of my sex and making me crave my coming penetration even more. This - I decide - is going to feel good.

I hear the servomotor of the mechanical cock before I feel it. The cock has a tapered, bulbous end like a cartoon teardrop, and it is slick and so smooth it opens up my vaginal lips and slides in effortlessly, the thick end opening me then allowing me to close down on the shaft itself.

It stops for a moment and I know that its sensors are measuring the depth of me that the physician measured during his examination. I hear a click and the servomotor pushes it deeper, pausing, pushing, pausing, pushing, and I feel the shaft filling the length of my vagina until I am full and the tapered tip is centered in the opening of my cervix. The thickness of the metal cock is adding to the sweet tightness inside me that the mechanical thumbs are creating.

This feels so good, but I know it's only temporary. The servomotor whines again and I feel it pushing against my cervix, compressing it, relentlessly pushing it up into my uterus. It pushes then holds, over and over; the pressure inside me increasing and my cervix aching as the tapered tip starts to force it open. It hurts. It is invasive. It starts to feel like rape.

I cry out as the machine drives the metal cock inside me relentlessly, stepping it deeper with each whine of the servomotor. I feel my cervix opening by degrees, the machine forcibly dilating it, and just as it feels like I can stand no more I feel a flash of deep cramping pain as my cervix slides over the thickest part of the bulbous tip of the cock, then my uterus swallows it deep into my belly.

The machine pauses then, giving me time to get used to the invasive penetration. I've never felt anything this deep - sure my machines at home press hard against my cervix, pushing it hard up into my uterus, but they have never penetrated. I'm aware of the crowd outside watching me and I've been hearing my own cries and swearing and 'oh god's' echoing faintly back at me from outside.

"I'm going to scream myself hoarse at this point." I gasp for their benefit, to let them know I'm okay and the real fucking is about to start. I can hear them cheering and whistling outside.

I know that the sensors inside the cock are waiting to feel my internal muscles relax, so I concentrate on making my belly slump in the machine's strong arms to let it know I'm ready. I hear a servomotor whine and feel the cock change its angle slightly to align it with the centerline of my abdomen. It's pointed straight up my belly at my stomach.

I'm ready.

Dear god I'm ready.

Do it. Please do it.

I hear a deep mechanical buzz then the cock starts slamming me hard, sending shockwaves up through my belly. I can hear the impacts throbbing up my core through my throat and into my head; bang-bang-bang - it's fucking me so fast. The cock head imbedded in my uterus stretches it painfully on the in-stroke, and yanks it back to compress my vagina on the out-stroke. I cry out and moan like a drugged up whore - this is my last fuck and I don't care how I sound or how I look to the crowd surrounding the ASPEC 2.0, nor the millions who will watch it on television.

Once it really started fucking me, I only live one minute and fifteen seconds longer, but it seems like hours. I suppose a dying mind did that - stretched out time in a desperate attempt to prolong life, even if it was an illusion. But don't feel sad for me; it is the fuck of a lifetime. Even if I survived I knew that nothing would satisfy me like that ever again, and I'd be back in the ASPEC 2.0 as soon as I could so it could finish the job. Dying in this glass dome is a dream come true, and by that point being watched was purely thrilling.

Part of my Autism is OCD soft-signs and all my life I've been a counter. I count how many ads are in the subway car when I commute; I count the number of pigeons that gather on the plaza in front of the building I work in; I count my steps when I walk. Counting soothes me, helps me focus. So I couldn't help counting the strokes from when the machine started thrusting inside me to the point when the cock head bursts through the top of my uterus into my belly; twenty-four. It took twenty-four strokes to rip through the flesh of my sex and start gut-fucking me. After it was in there I stopped counting - I am overwhelmed by the brutal sensations of that cock plunging through my belly.

What I imagined being gut-fucked would feel like was tame compared to the reality of it. The cock slams back and forth inside me, compressing and stretching my sex in turn with each stroke as my internal muscles clench down on the shaft. The head of the cock is like a jerking torpedo, thrusting inside my belly cavity, churning my intestines, making them jiggle inside me like ropes of jelly - I hear them start to gurgle loudly as peristalsis goes wild and the cramping is sweet and only adds to my insane pleasure. My crotch is getting hot from the slick movement of the cock as it thumps deeper and deeper, and the foreign sensation of my intestines being slapped and displaced sends sweet tingles over my belly and up to my breasts and nipples. I want to reach up and pinch my nipples painfully, but I can't; being fucked so hard and so deep is an all encompassing experience. It feels like rape - a savage rape - one I know is going to kill me and I welcome it. It is like my whole life built up to this moment, all that fucking I did with my gentle machines at home alone was just foreplay.

I actually feel the gush of the Trinity Cocktail inside me and the wet heat of it spreading through my belly and sex. My clit swells large and hard and rides the top of the cock, my vagina clenching tighter, clinging to the shaft, and oddly, I feel my cervix loosen and gape, flopping like an open bag as the shaft destroys it.

The shockwaves are upsetting my stomach and I feel the warning signs of vomiting begin; my stomach starts to quiver and clench, my mouth watering. Between incoherent strains and groans I swallow my spit down and feel that I am also swallowing air. Within seconds I feel my stomach bloating on spit and gas, churning and expanding.

I know I'm making this sound unpleasant, but it isn't. It is pure, frantic sexual joy. I never knew what the intense pleasure of being impaled was like and what I imagined was a pale shadow of the intrusiveness and complete body experience the ASPEC 2.0 is giving me. And unlike the girl in the video, who lay still and let herself be skewered from vagina to throat, I am participating. I reach down and grip the legs of the machine, squeezing my thighs tight around the shaft plunging inside me. If I had the ability to speak, I would scream for the machine to fuck me deeper, fuck me harder, fuck me to death.

Then the orgasms begin and I lose all control.

As my belly muscles clench with each wave of intense orgasm, I hear myself grunting and straining, and feel my anus gape wide from the pressure inside my belly. I feel myself pissing hard and feel my rectum cramping. Then thousands of people in Central Park and millions watching the video feed watch me shit myself as I cry out in orgasm. I don't care. I feel it happen as innocently as a baby soiling its diaper - this is my body giving up in my pure moments of death.

My spasms and convulsions grow tighter and more rapid - shorter gaps between my abdominal muscles cramping and releasing. The tight clenching curling my belly bring my stomach closer to the cock slamming inside me, and it begins hammering at that bloated sac. I gag and heave; swallowed spit mixed with bile and churned to foam in my stomach rise up my gullet in orgasmic spasms. I feel little electric tingles in the core of each nipple and swear I can feel small spurts of fluid squirting from my never used milk ducts. I see the flashing lights Brian told me would signal the coming of the end. He was right - it doesn't scare me.

I am starting to feel distant, my body becoming lighter and I know this is what dying feels like. It is a sweet feeling when the ASPEC stops fucking me, holding me tight on the cock for a few stuttering heartbeats as I continued to vomit orgasmically, then it lets me go. I flop down on the padded floor, the long cock slithering out of me, leaving me feeling hollow, but still bloated inside. The sudden silence make my ears ring. My bowels continued to spasm, squeezing liquid from inside my belly to soil the cheeks of my bum, my vagina continues to clench and release, and my stomach curls over and over, sending little bursts of fluid and gas to burble up my throat. As promised; I am still coming.

... and cumming and cumming and cumming ...

I am sinking inside myself, drowning in my own sexual experience, listening to the crowd cheering outside. I feel my heart falter and stop and my orgasms blur together, blanketing me in a sweet warmth like a bath in hot honey. The abstract thought that I am now clinically dead drifts into my mind like morning fog, and Brian was right - I am still cumming.

I close my eyes to just experience these final gentle seconds, then ...