Opening Day Special: The Suicide Chamber

by Erotickynk


It only took a week after the government passed the Reincarnation Act for the first assisted suicide companies to open for business. A small ad on an online suicide forum caught my eye; “Opening Soon” it said - Die Happy was the company and they promised an orgasmic ‘passing’ of pure bliss. When I read that I felt a little thrill in my lower belly.

Most of the other new companies either offered regular suicide methods like overdoses and suffocation, and still others weren’t specific. I suspected that some were just serial killers going legit and once you were ensconced in their facilities who knows what horror you would endure. I want to die, but I don’t want pain.

I’d been fantasizing about dying since I was a little girl. That fantasy had grown stronger as I grew older; dreaming of just laying down and feeling my body dying without pain, slipping away to eternal peace without any distress. I tried it once in college by taking an overdose of benzodiazepine then laying down on my bed. I awoke groggy, confused, and throwing up violently all over my dorm room. All I got was angry that I was still alive and a huge mess to clean up before my roommate got home from the weekend. Then the false rapture happened and ... well you know the rest.

So here I sit on a bench in the industrial district on the outskirts of the city, gazing across the street at the small storefront of Die Happy Inc, sandwiched between a tire shop and a paint supply store. It’s Sunday so they’re the only place open and to be honest, I’ve been listening for screams and so far Die Happy has been quiet. The windows are painted out white and the sign is a cheerful sky blue. As I sit taking in the place where I am about 99% sure I am going to die in today, a young man walks up to their front door, looking nervously around the industrial mall (and at me), then quickly opening the door and goes inside.

I wonder why he is nervous. His expression and body language are like men who go alone into sex toy stores. Ashamed, nervous someone who knows him will see where he’s going. Like them, he is going there to seek out his desire, but instead of a buttplug, he’s seeking the sweet freedom of death.

I do my deep breathing to become completely relaxed and rise from the bus stop bench and walk across the street. I’m ready to commit. As I walk, a brown-haired girl comes from the other direction and beats me to the front door. She is skinny, her hair cut short, wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a light jacket. White sneakers on her sockless feet. The front of her t-shirt lays almost flat, two small interruptions in the drape where her nipples are. Her hips are narrow. I wonder how old she is - the law says that you have to reach your state’s age of majority to access assisted suicide, although there is an exception; churches can issue a special I.D. that exempts you from that statute.

Inside there is a tiny waiting room with five chairs. They must not be very busy because the brown-haired girl is the only one waiting. I sit across from her and when we make eye contact I smile at her. She smiles back, self-conscious and looks away. I wonder if she feels shame, or if she’s trying to stay deep inside herself to make it through this.

It takes less than a minute before a young woman dressed in a white nurse’s uniform comes through an inner door.

“Hi, I’m Kim.” she smiles at us, “Welcome to Die Happy. Who’s going next?”

I tilt my head and indicate the brown-haired girl. Kim moves closer to her and offers her hand which the girl takes as she rises.

“Come with me.” Kim says, “I’m the one who’s going to help you today.” And they pass through the inner door. After about five minutes another woman comes through the door into the waiting area- she too is dressed in white.

“Hello, Welcome to Die Happy.” she says to me, “Sorry to keep you waiting. My name is Mindy, I’ll be your helper.”

I rise and Mindy ushers me through the door to another small room that has two desks separated by a white office divider. The brown-haired girl is sitting at the first one facing Kim. The girl is taking her I.D. back from Kim and putting it in her jacket pocket - I was right; it’s church issued. Her age is a mystery, but she’s old enough to have the courage to make this decision.

As I pass them I hear individual words from their murmured conversation ... ‘intense’ ... ‘overwhelming’ ... ‘final’ ...

I sit at the second desk near another door that leads deeper into the small warehouse. As Mindy walks around the desk and sits across from me I can hear the muffled sounds of a man straining and retching and moaning from the other side of the door. It sounds like he’s trapped inside a box - muffled thumps as he jerks and thrashes. But he does not sound distressed - he sounds like he’s having a series of three orgasms. I think I hear him gag and vomit, then the sounds taper off to quieter and quieter breathing.

“So how did you find us?” Minday says, picking up a pen and positioning a form in front of her.

“Um ...” I bring my focus back to Mindy, wondering if I just heard that young man die, “It was a banner ad on an online suicide forum.”

“Good.” Mindy says, ticking a box, “Can I see your government I.D.?”

I dig it out and hand it to her, she looks at it and smiles, “Lorelei.”

“Yes.”

“Water spirit.” she says, handing it back, then; “I have some questions for you to see where you’re at.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have a terminal illness?”

“No.”

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

“No. I mean, it’s possible, but that’s not why I’m here.”

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Are you being treated for depression?”

“No.”

“Do you feel sad?”

“No. I don’t feel much of anything.”

“Why do you want to die?”

“I’m just done with life. I want it over.”

“You seem pretty calm about it.”

“Yeah. I’m not afraid. I’ve been thinking about it since I was around ten years old. Life has never given me joy.”

“Are you claustrophobic?”

“No.”

I hear a scrape of chairs and the brown-haired girl is ushered past me through the door beside me. I crane my neck and see a larger room with a row of three large coffins on gurneys before the door closes.

“Do you orgasm easily?”

“No. I have to work at it. Even then sometimes it doesn’t happen.”

“That must be frustrating.”

“It is.”

“Have you attempted suicide?”

“Yes. I’m obviously not very good at it.”

“Is it your intent to have Die Happy assist you in ending your life today?”

“Yes.”

Mindy smiled, then; “Do you have any questions?”

“Yes. What methods do you use?”

“We only have one - our patented Suicide Chamber.”

“How will it happen?”

“You lay down in the Suicide Chamber and we close and seal it. You will hear a soft hum as we pump oxygen into the chamber and an aerosol mist carrying synthetics similar to endorphins, oxytocin, along with mucus membrane irritants, and such. They will work even through contact with your skin, but they work best absorbed through mucus membranes - your mouth and nose, even your vagina or anus. You will start feeling aroused within seconds and that feeling will get stronger until you have a powerful series of orgasms. In the middle of this - usually after the peak of the biggest one - a toxin is introduced to the mist and you pass quickly after ... still cumming.”

“No pain?”

“None, unless your orgasm causes cramping.”

“Cramping?”

“Toes, vagina, anus, belly muscles.”

“Ahh.”

“Last question; Your remains?”

I hand her the name of a funeral home with a contact name and an envelope addressed “Family”.

Mandy waves the envelope, “Suicide note?”

“Yeah. Telling them why I want this so much. I don’t want them wondering if they did something wrong.”

Mindy nods and slips the envelope and note into a large plastic bag, then tells me the cost. I pay her in cash. She turns the form toward me and sets a pen beside it.

“You need to sign beside the two Xs, acknowledging you’ve answered truthfully and are entering into this contract of your own free will.”

I sign it in the two places without reading it, then Mindy puts it in the plastic bag.

“That girl, she’s going now?”

“Yes. Kim is helping her.”

“May I watch?”

Mindy appears surprised by this request - I’m thinking I’m the first who ever asked her.

“It can be upsetting.” she offers.

“It won’t. I need a little reassurance.”

“Let me check.” she says, then rises and goes through the inner door. She returns in a few seconds.

“She said she doesn’t care, but we have to go now. It’s about to start.”

I rise and follow Mindy into the next room.

I can see this is just a converted warehouse with a high ceiling and metal rafters sprayed with yellow insulating foam. The walls are painted white up to about ten feet and above are just bare cinderblocks. The brown-haired girl is already naked and is being helped into one of the chambers by Kim. The girl is trembling as she lowers herself into her chamber. She is pale and is even thinner than her clothing revealed - her hips narrow like a boy’s, breasts small shapeless mounds tipped by pink puffy nipples. She looks so frail and vulnerable. I feel a little thrill in the pit of my stomach knowing she is aware that she’s going to die inside that box. I feel a kinship with her even though we’ve never spoken nor even know each other’s name.

The chambers are larger than an adult coffin, but not by much. They even look like coffins - the plain kind made of wood and clad in an aluminum skin. They all look brand new.

Mindy puts her arm out in front of me.

“Wait until the chamber is sealed.”

Kim slides a pillow under the girl’s head and bends over and says something softly to her, smiles as she strokes her cheek, then closes the lid.

“Okay.” Mindy says, lowering her arm and we move closer as Kim starts opening a green and yellow valve attached to the hoses attached to the girl’s chamber and turns on an overhead device that appears to draw air out of the box.

“These are our Suicide Chambers. It feels like laying in a small bed.”

We were close enough to hear the girl’s muffled breathing inside the chamber. At the foot of the chamber is a video screen that shows the girl’s face. She appears nervous, biting her lower lip with her crooked front teeth.

“When will it start?” I ask Mindy.

“It already has.” Mindy replies, “Just keep in mind that different people react differently to the misted synthetics, and chemically induced orgasms are stronger that regular ones and can be overwhelming.”

I nod and watch the girl’s face. She is breathing deeply but quickly her eyes become unfocussed and she is whimpering, moaning, and crying out softly, stirring inside her chamber. Beads of sweat break out on her skin, her body is beginning to undulate and she seems to be losing herself in the pleasure the synthetics are giving her. Her eyes roll up under her fluttering eyelids and it becomes obvious that this is more intense than she has experienced. She cries out wordlessly and looks like she’s experiencing a toe-curling orgasm within seconds.

But it’s far from over.

Her face grimaces as she struggles with the growing sexual storm as it gathers power and quickly overwhelms her. Suddenly the thunder of orgasm slams into her small body and she begins to scream, her body convulsing violently, her legs kicking, knees and elbows slamming against the sides of the chamber making it shake and shudder. She presses her shoulders and arches her body hard, tucking her chin against her chest and slamming her belly up against the chamber lid over and over. She is desperate and losing control and it begins to look like the orgasm itself could kill her.

She convulses for what seems to be a long time, but her young body can’t sustain that level of energy - her spasms become erratic and ramp down to violent quivering and shaking and her hands fall to claw at the padding inside the chamber, her belly pushing outward and her hips humping. She is gasping, gagging as her screams recede to weak cries.

Kim turns the red valve.

“That’s the toxin.” Mindy whispers.

The effect is swift; the girl’s breathing becomes erratic, she gasps, appears worried, and seems to have trouble swallowing. Her body slows its movement, she presses her head back, arching her neck. She gurgles, her belly heaving. She vomits up a yellow slurry that sputters up and over her face and into her hair, then whimpers and slumps as though she were a marionette with broken strings.

“... oh fuck ...” she whispers so softly that we barely hear her, then goes limp.

I stare at her slack, pukey face, her dead eyes half open, slightly crossed and staring at nothing. The sexual violence that stormed within her has now passed. She’s dead and never coming back.

“That’s it?” I ask Mindy softly.

“Yes.” Mindy whispers, “It only lasts about a minute.”

Mindy takes my hand and I look at her and see the sadness in her expression.

“You can back out if you want.” Mindy assures me, “Just know that a minute seems very short when you’re watching, but the pleasure makes it seem a lot longer.”

“How do you know?”

“We’ve all had to go through it.” she explains.

“Without the toxin.”

“Yes, without the toxin.” then she looks down, recalling shame, “From what we learned, the toxin is a blessing. The aftereffects of the synthetics aren’t pretty.”

“How?”

“Bad cramping.”

“Toes, vagina, anus, belly muscles?” I make a joke, repeating what she said earlier.

“Yeah.” she grimaces at the memory, “It’s the anus that hurt the worst.” then smiles and whispers; “Kim liked it - feels like a hot poker being shoved in there.”

I look back at the girl as Kim vents the toxin and disconnects the chamber. Kim unlocks the wheels and steers it out through two flapping doors. In the room beyond I see part of the young man’s body on a stainless steel table. His knees are badly bruised. I imagine the girl’s body is bruised as well.

“Was it worth it?” I ask Mindy, “Going through it I mean.”

“Yes, Lorelei. It feels amazing. So powerful.” she gives me a faltering smile, “Until after. But you won’t have an after.”

“She threw up.” I observe, “The boy too.”

“It’s a post orgasmic reaction when the toxin is introduced. It seems to interact with the synthetics.” Mindy says, “Most vomit, some pee themselves, and some even lose control of their bowels. It doesn’t matter, if it happens just go with it. Your body will be bathed and dressed and no one will know what you did inside the chamber.”

“Okay.” I say after a moment, “Which one is mine?”

“Right here.” Mindy says and guides me to the empty chamber beside where the girl’s stood.

I smile, “It’s like a little assembly line of death.”

“It’s best that you strip down. We don’t have laundry facilities.” Mindy says.

“In case I puke, piss, or shit.”

“Yeah.”

I strip down and hand Mindy each piece of clothing and she puts them in the plastic bag; sweater, sundress, bra, panties, and shoes. My purse goes in as well. Mindy seals the bag and slides it onto a little shelf under the chamber.

“How many have you done?” I ask Mindy.

“The method is proven effective, you don’t have to worry.”

“I’m not worried, I just want to know how many you’ve successfully helped die.”

Mindy’s face flushes; “You’ll be number four.”

I nod, “Thank you for telling me.”

“Ready?”

I nod and Mindy pulls a little step stool to the side and takes my hand to help me step up and into the chamber. I settle in and I’m surprised at how comfortable it is inside the chamber. The padding is firm, but soft - I suspect some type of memory foam, and the upholstery appears to be a waterproof synthetic, but it has a thin nap so it isn’t the slick plastic sheeting I expected.

Mindy leans over me - “Lift your head” - and slides a pillow under me just above my shoulders. The pillow is cased in fresh cotton - I suppose they are disposable.

“Comfortable?”

I nod.

“Listen,” Mindy says, “It’s better if you don’t help yourself along with your orgasm. Just let the synthetics do their job.”

What if they don’t?”

“They will.”

“Okay.”

“May I close the lid now?” she asks.

I nod again, then; “Thank you for doing this, Mindy”

“You’re welcome, Lorelei.”

“One minute, right?”

“Yes. One minute.” and she lowers the lid. I hear the locks slide into place and a soft hum starts, my ears pop as the air pressure changes.

I wait, listening. Feeling vulnerable and I admit, with a tingle of fear inside me that makes my bowels feel loose.

A soft hissing starts near my feet - the oxygen, I can feel it wafting across my legs. Then it gets cooler in the chamber - it’s the mist with the synthetics, I feel it dampening my legs and it’s coolness wafts up my body. When it moves to my face there is a faint chemical smell. I start my deep breathing - in through my nose and out through my mouth, drawing the mist into my lungs as deep as I can.

I breathe the fear away. I don’t dare waste a single second of my last moment.

I am surprised how quickly it starts. It’s a wonderful feeling - cool and tingling. It starts in my lungs and across my sinuses and spreads down my throat, deep through my belly and then to my crotch. My nipples pucker and tingle so I reach up to pinch and twist them. I feel my clit and vulva swelling. They start to throb and I feel myself getting wet. I open my thighs to relieve the growing pressure in my crotch until my knees press against the chamber sides. The synthetics continue to spread quickly - I can feel the cells in my body becoming saturated with them.

I keep breathing deep, greedy for more pleasure, and as I do I can’t help but make soft moaning, sighing sounds. My clit and vagina are both throbbing with each beat of my heart.

This is the best I’ve ever felt - I know I’m going to cum, I just know it, then Mindy will give me the toxin and send me through the soft veil of death.

My arousal rises as my body becomes super-saturated with the synthetics and little flashes of memory start to drift in and out of my inner vision;

... a playground filled with running and happily screaming children, and me the little girl sitting alone wondering what was making them so happy

... being hugged by my mom as she holds a report card filled with A and B grades, telling me how proud she is of me, and me feeling no pride; they were just letters on a page

... masturbating in my bed because I heard the other girls in middle school talking about how good it felt and even when my little orgasm sputtered in my pelvis, I wonder what the big deal was

... losing my virginity to my first boyfriend and breaking up with him the next day

... graduating with my BA, bored with the ritual, annoyed by the endless applause as our names are called and we walk across the stage, on display by the university to show how good they are at churning out identical trained people

... my recent sexual adventure with Sid; introducing me to BDSM, promising new sexual highs - and no matter how rough he gets or how large of a toy he pushes into my body, my orgasms are tiny pathetic things - even the pain is dull - the best pleasure coming when he strangles me to unconsciousness only because it feels like dying ...

My life reminds me of that old song “Is That All There Is?” by Peggy Lee. Life has held nothing for me from birth until I walked into Die Happy, finally committing to my decision.

But now ...

My skin is growing slick with sweat. I can smell myself; the musky scent of sweat under my hair; the skunky tang of my armpits; the exotic hormonal smell of my leaking vagina - my natural lubricant oozing and slithering between the cheeks of my bum to puddle under me.

My abdominal muscles are twitching and starting to tighten. After a few more seconds they clench, tensing down on the sexual bliss that is building inside my belly. I hear myself moan as my back arches on its own. I twist and squirm as it builds, one arm up over my head, the fingers of my other hand pinching and twisting my right nipple savagely - my orgasm is coming fast, so fast. The thought flashes through my mind that maybe that’s how the word ‘cum’ originated; people crying out ‘it’s coming’.

It feels like my belly is bloating like a heavy storm surge is building inside me. A wave of bliss curls in my lower belly and crashes inside me, and ...

I’m cumming.

Oh fuck, I’m cumming.

This is like nothing I’ve ever felt. I’m glad the video camera only shows my face and shoulders, because I must look a craven animal; my thighs opened as wide as I can with knees braced against the sides of the chamber, back arched so tight my belly is pressed up against the chamber lid, humping my pelvis and pressing my belly tight and grinding my pubic mound against the lid’s firm padding. I now know why the girl did this - it feel like if I don’t this orgasm will swell my belly until it bursts. And it makes it feel even better - that wonderful pressure. I remember a girlfriend telling me her best orgasms came from fucking men with big, heavy bellies pushing down on hers. I didn’t understand then, but I do now - I would give anything if Mindy could open the chamber and push down hard on my bulging belly with both hands.

I hear myself straining, wanting to scream; ‘holy mother of god’ or some other blasphemous exclamation but I can’t - it’s too much.

It won’t stop or even diminish. This ecstasy is like a burning sea, a cold white flame inside my core that is scorching my life-force to cinders, using me up.

I’m cumming, truly cumming for the first (and last!) time. This alone is worth dying for. I feel tears squeezing out of my tightly closed eyes, feeling such a deep gratitude that my heart is breaking.

Suddenly the wave has crashed on the shore of my senses and my body flops down, but now come strong waves of orgasmic bliss that feel like water sloshing inside me, up and down the length of my belly - me hollow and filled with liquid orgasm like a half-filled bottle. I could ride this forever I decide and go back to breathing in the synthetics, wanting more ... more ... more.

I hear the change in the soft hissing (Not yet! Please not yet!) and now the mist I feel on my legs turns from cool to warm. This is the toxin. My minute must almost be up.

I want more ecstasy, more orgasm - I want another big one, hungry for more now that I know it’s possible. But that’s not why I’m here, trapped inside this box. I surrender; how could I go on living after this orgasmic frenzy? I resume my deep breathing - I want it now - I want to die so bad. I want the toxin to flood my body like the synthetics did and end this while I still feel this heart-breaking bliss. And it does; I feel the warmth in my lungs and sinuses and it spreads like the pleasure did; deep into my core, down my throat through my belly and across my loins.

I can feel it working. It feels like the beginning of the flu - those hours when your body feels hot and sick and all you want to do is sleep, knowing that when you awaken you will have a high fever and a muzzy brain. But I won’t awaken with that this time. I won’t awaken.

I feel a strong and sudden nausea in my stomach. It is tightening the way it does just before it convulses into a tight ball, emptying itself violently up my gullet to spew from my flaccid lips as it did on so many nights I used wine to drown the dullness of my life. My mouth is watering and I know now why the girl threw up without fighting it. It’s not a bad feeling - it feels sensual and natural. I feel my gorge rise and a convulsive heave gags me but I swallow the foulness back down - not out of modesty, but because it feels sexual and perverse. I think of a cock ejaculating. Next heave I decide I’ll let happen like the girl did.

I suddenly become aware of my bladder - it’s throbbing, feeling distended and hot. I remember Mindy’s advice and I just let it happen; hot piss gushes from between my open thighs, forming a puddle under my bum, to mix with the slime that has leaked from me. I turn my head to smell the raw reek of my armpit, the mingling of funk from my crotch, the smell of my hot piss and the oily sweat wafting from my anus which is loose now and opening. I would even relish the sickly smell of my own shit if that were to erupt from within me. I am enraptured by the primal sensations and base perversity of my dying body, released from my dull prison of an uninspired life. I have lived more in this minute than I have in twenty-eight years of existence.

I feel death spreading now - a numb tingling like fingers exploring my skin, penetrating my flesh to play its final games with my internal organs. My muscles start twitching, my ovaries are aching like an overused muscle, my sex and anus a loose, oily mess. Poison flooding me, shutting my body down by degrees - I can feel myself going.

I always wondered how dying would feel and this way certainly feels good, it feels right even with the sickness. And I wondered my entire life where we go when we die. I discover it’s not what the religious tell us; you don’t rise up to the freshening sky toward a bright light, you sink into dimness and slime. I am sinking into myself, my body thick like a fluid; a poisoned vile quicksand and my awareness is submerging into it.

It feels warm and comforting.

It feels like love.

I am content ... the residual energy of my orgasm still rippling the length of my long belly ... the sickness flooding me like foul water ... polluting my flesh ... my stomach contracts with a lazy tightening ... I feel my gullet gurgling with foaming saliva-mucus-bile ... like the girl; a slurry in slow ejaculation from my belly ... one final process of my dying body ... it flows up over the root of my tongue sputtering out of my soft lips ... there is no struggle ... no choking ... it just flows from me as life flows ... my ecstasy carries me ... without breath ... without movement ... my heart falters as it tries to squeeze my toxic lifeblood for one last cycle, but it flutters and fails ... oh, bliss ... sweet bliss ... my heart is crushed by the beauty of this final release ...



TRINITY COCKTAIL

When Die Happy Inc first launched, we offered only one method of assisted sexual suicide; the Suicide Chamber. Our clients entered our comfortable chambers and were infused with synthetic endorphin, oxytocin, and other hormones and chemicals that triggered powerful final orgasms. A toxin was then added to the infusion which ended life quickly and painlessly. This process took an average of one minute. We’ve come a long way in prolonging pre-death pleasure since then!

Our original Chemist, Dr Bradenkamph, who developed these chemical infusions continued to work on expanding the chemistry available to our clients, refining their properties and lengthening the pleasurable process of dying in sexual bliss. The challenge Dr Bradenkamph faced was to provide a single dose cocktail that would provide sexual bliss, while gradually - and painlessly - ending life.

For years, Dr Bradenkamph and his team worked to develop a slow acting toxin that interacted with the synthetics and gradually ended a person’s life while not diminishing their pleasure. There was no shortage of test volunteers to ingest these prototype mixtures - many who lacked the financial means for Die Happy’s full services

The end result was the Trinity Cocktail, first used in the judicial execution of three young ladies in Utah and slowly becoming the preferred chemical method of ending life amongst our clients and even staff members who choose to pass on.

One side effect of the chemical reaction between the synthetics and the slow acting toxin in the Trinity Cocktail that Dr Bradenkamph’s team could not eliminate is a brief period of nausea and vomiting. Clients should be assured that this side effect is pleasurable, with many clients reporting intense multiple orgasms while it occurs. Our Die Happy Helpers can arrange a stomach flush with anti-bile production products in milkshakes flavoured to each client’s taste prior to administering the Trinity Cocktail so your experience is pure pleasure.

So, talk to our End-of-Life Planners if you think the Trinity Cocktail might be right for you!,