A Little Help With Your Suicide

by Erotickynk


We’d had a marathon of impalements the day I helped Madison kill herself.

It happens sometimes - the rushes on a particular method of sexual death. This one was caused by Rene Rivera, a huge pop star whose ratings were in the toilet, her latest album not selling. Plus she had been diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy five years before and the symptoms were getting worse.

She’d booked a special session two weeks ago for a crotch to mouth impalement at Die Happy. But instead of just doing it, she had it professionally video recorded. I guess it took a bit for it to be edited, but it was posted online in all her puking, cumming glory two days before Madison’s suicide and instantly went viral.

The video helped Rene’s flagging popularity posthumously, but it played hell for us. We were inundated with bookings for impalements as every young woman with a screw loose decided they had to die like her favourite star.

Some died well, some didn’t. Many had that ‘I’ve made a horrible mistake” look on their face after it was too late to stop and the spit was sliding up their gullet. But others loved it, enjoying the sexuality of every inch of the spit that gave them the fuck of a lifetime. Either way we had to double our clean-up crews to mop up the gallons of puke and piss that was being sprayed around in all our rooms. Putting it bluntly - it was a fucking mess, and rushes like that can get to a person.

Some of the more naive girls booked group impalements, thinking they were going to look so cute holding hands as they were impaled with their BFFs - but in reality once the process began, none of them cared about their friends once their teeth were chattering on the spit that was sliding out of their mouths. Death is a very private experience. As for us Helpers; it was like working in a slaughterhouse that day - just grinding away, killing one girl after another.

We did take solace in that we made sure every girl had at least one orgasm. We can usually do multiple orgasms and even help them have a death orgasm, but when you’re grinding them out quality suffers.

When I think back on that day I can still picture Madison at the start of her shift, smiling, enthusiastic, and asking me if I’d seen Rene’s video. “It was so hot.” she told me, “It made us look great.”

So Madison, myself, and all the Helpers we could call in on overtime ground away all day in a blur of impalements, all of us doing double shifts. In total we took 104 living girls through our rooms and sent 104 sweaty, puke covered corpses out the service bay doors in 16 hours. But believe it or not, that wasn’t a record - we’ve had crazier days.

In a bar down the street after the day was done and Die Happy was quiet and turned over to the night shift, a few of us got together for drinks. It was a kind of mellow night out. None of the Helpers were very talkative, and we were all dead on our feet so none of us stayed long. After we drifted out of the bar, I realized I’d left my smart phone in my locker and went back to Die Happy to pick it up.

It was quiet and subdued in the building when I got there, our night receptionist was reading a novel and only one room was being used - a long, slow, female evisceration that sounded wet and orgasmic on the other side of the opaque window.

It was when I went “backstage” to our locker room and retrieved my phone, that I heard faint sexual sounds of distress coming from the equipment room. Knowing that a lot of us Helpers experiment with the machines as edge-play, I walked quietly to the equipment room door and opened it a crack to see who it was.

It’s a small room that is only used for storage, so it isn’t that well ventilated. As I opened the door a crack I was greeted with a rush of warm, moist air and the strong odour of a sweaty body and female arousal, plus the loud sexual grunts of a woman lost in lust. I opened the door a little wider and saw that it was Madison laying on the bench of an impaler, really getting a workout.

I smiled and thought ‘Good for you Maddy’, thinking she was just releasing some sexual tension, but when I saw the shortness of the spit that was still not inside her and that she’d gone vaginal, my smile vanished. I felt shiver-bumps over my thighs, bum, and belly as I realized Madison was impaling herself - it had to be inside her abdomen and was thrusting in and out, fucking her with strong firm strokes.

Madison was quivering, shaking, grunting, and crying out as the spit fucked her relentlessly. Her pale body was wet with sweat and the excess pounds on her belly, hips, and thighs were jiggling as she shuddered her way through desperate orgasms.

I set down my things and walked slowly toward her, pulling up a stool to sit at her side. I laid a hand on her heaving belly, feeling the violence inside her; the spit pounding inside her abdomen; the quivering and spasming of her muscles as she came again and again.

Madison opened her eyes and looked up at me. She looked delirious and disoriented, lost in her slow death.

“Kimmy …” she grunted as her body curled and she came once more, then with a shaking hand reached down for the controls and fumbled with the buttons to slow the impaler down. Madison lay gasping for breath as the impaler settled to a slow in and out stroke - about four inches in travel. I stroked her belly and breasts as she calmed.

“Oh Maddy.” I said at last, tears welling in my eyes as it finally sunk in that I was losing a dear friend that night.

“I’m sorry.” Madison said, she too starting to tear up, “But I had to.”

“It’s your time, honey?” I asked.

“Yes. Kimmy, please forgive me for not saying goodbye.” she said, “I just wanted to sneak off and get it done.”

“Tell me why?” I asked, twirling her nipples to keep her stimulated.

“Today, mostly.” Madison said softly, “All those girls. It got to me.”

“You had some good ones?” I asked, “Girls that stayed committed all the way?”

“Some, but that wasn’t it.” Madison looked up into my eyes, “It was the ones that went hard. The ones that fought it at the last minute. The ones we had to hold down.”

“It turned you on.”

Madison nodded, lowering her gaze, ashamed.

“Don’t be ashamed, Maddy. It’s okay.”

“I wanted to feel that. I still want it. That ... desperation.”

“I understand.”

I slid my hand down her plump belly to the soft spot just above her mound and pressed the heel of my hand there, to grind her g-spot against the spit that was slowly fucking her body. Madison moaned.

“How deep?” I asked.

“Pretty deep.” she answered.

I moved my free hand to the controls and jogged the spit deeper, no more than an inch. As the spit moved back out of her and slow thrusted back in to its new position, Madison’s chin quivered and her upper body curled as she heaved gently. As the spit eased off, she relaxed and swallowed.

“That deep.” she said and smiled.

"So, you're almost done."

"Yeah."

I pressed my hand in against her lower belly, feeling the spit moving her skewered uterus back and forth.

“Did it hurt bad?” I asked.

Madison gagged again and swallowed as the spit topped out inside her and withdrew.

“Not as bad as you’d think.” she answered breathlessly, “I was pretty busy cumming.”

“I saw.” I smiled as we shared a bit of grim humour.

“How do you think you’ll handle the hard part?” I asked, massaging her belly as the spit moved slowly back and forth inside her abdomen.

“I don’t know, I’m … glurph … I’m scared but excited for it.”

“I want to help you.” I said, sliding my hand up her belly and returning to her breasts.

“No. Please.” Madison gagged and burped this time, “I want to do it alone.”

“No you don’t.” I said, “You want someone who loves you and knows what she’s doing to take you through this.”

Madison’s face crumpled and tears overflowed her eyes.

“Kim, I can’t … glurph … do that to you.” Madison explained, “I didn’t void or drink the milkshake and I haven’t eaten all day.”

Madison was referring to the special milkshakes Die Happy offers to impalements; they’re sweet, lubricate the stomach and throat, and have medicine to neutralize bile and stomach acid.

“I’m just filled with foamy spit and bile.” she said, and she was right - people think if they don’t eat their stomach is empty, but it isn’t. We produce and swallow saliva all the time - between two and four pints a day. That and the two pints of bile the liver produces per day means there is a lot of fluid in our stomachs all the time. When under stress the saliva and bile mixture is churned in the stomach - and we see the evidence a lot in our work; impalements almost always puke, guttings sometimes, and even hangings occasionally if the rope doesn't cinch tight enough.

“It doesn’t matter, sweetheart. You can piss and spew all you want.” I reassured her.

“And I didn’t do an enema.” Madison said in a small voice. And she was right to warn me; I could hear her bowels gurgling - impalement does that, peristalsis speeds up and empties you out.

“It’s okay, Maddy.” I said as I stroked her sweaty, fevered face, “It really is okay.”

“But it’s gross and messy.”

“No, it’s sexy and you’re going to love how intense it is to lose control like that.” I said and bent to kiss her open lips, and in the middle of our kiss the spit topped out and she burped again - I could smell the faint odour of vomit on her breath, “When you lose control of your body, you’ll know that you’re starting to die and that’s the time to surrender. To stop fighting it.”

Rising, I undressed as Maddy watched me.

“I set the limiter.” Madison said as she sensually massaged her clit, “I don’t want to join the chipped tooth club.”

Madison was talking about the girls who died on the impaler opting for a full crotch to mouth. In their death throes as the spit pushes hard up their throat and out of their mouth, their teeth chatter on the stainless steel shafts. When we retract the spit we often find a mouth full of puke and chipped front teeth. Madison set the limiter on the impaler, which stops it from getting past the root of her tongue.

Naked, I sat back down beside Madison, wrapping one arm around her and pressing my other hand against the soft spot above her pubic bone, putting pressure on her g-spot against the spit moving inside her. Her body was voluptuous and soft, her movements gentle and erotic. Even when her body curled and she gagged every few seconds when the spit topped out against her stomach, she moved like a lover - slow and sensual. I knew that in a few moments that would change, so I enjoyed it and let her enjoy it while it lasted.

I gazed into her eyes, brushing the tip of her nose with my own and right after one of her body-curling slow heaves, I covered her open lips with my own, my tongue exploring her mouth and her tongue responding in kind. Her mouth was watering, wet and fluid. It tasted sour from the small amount of vomit being squeezed upward as the spit compressed her stomach. I kept our mouths locked, tongues working until the next slow heave - Madison whimpered and tried to pull away as her body curled under me, but I followed, wanting her to know I was with her and wouldn't leave; I would experience this with her. As her tongue tensed and she gagged and shuddered, the sourness became bitter and more fluid flowed into the back of her mouth. I kissed her harder as she swallowed it back down, then I pulled back and gazed into her eyes once more.

“We have to get you ready again.” I whispered.

Madison nodded and started undulating, feeling the rigidity of the spit inside her body. I could feel it moving inside her with my hand and part of me wished our roles were reversed - but it wasn’t my time. I have no doubt that I will become a Die Happy client one day - after experiencing so much sexual death, regular life is mundane and none of us fear death anymore. We all get bored of vanilla lovers, and having a sexual relationship with a fellow Helper is almost always a death sentence for one of the partners so it’s frowned up by Die Happy management.

Madison started breathing faster, so to help her along I bent my head down to suckle her nipples, while touching the controls and increased the impaler’s speed.

“Oh god.” she whimpered and went back to humping the spit.

“We’ll get you close, baby. I want you on the edge when it slides up your gullet.” I whispered as I covered her breasts with my hands and started pinching her nipples, “You know you want it. You know you want to be throat fucked from the inside.”

Madison cried out as her arousal increased rapidly, “I’m scared, but I want it so bad.”

“You’re going to die choking on it as it thrusts hard in your throat.” I kept whispering, keeping the thing that frightened her and aroused her present in her mind, “And I’m going to hold you down. I’m going to hold you tight and not let you go, no matter how hard you fight it.”

“Ngha!” Madison cried out louder, grasping my arms and squeezing hard, pulling my hands tight against her lower belly.

“Feel it, baby?” Feel that hard shaft inside you?” I said louder, “That’s me, fucking you.”

Madison cried out again, gagging and heaving as the spit topped out more frequently.

“Are you ready, Maddy? Are you ready to take it?” I urged her, growing her excitement.

“Grrsh!” Madison convulsed and exhaled through clenched teeth, her fingers digging painfully into the soft flesh of my upper arms, then;

“I’m ready! I’m ready!” she strained through clenched teeth.

“I need to hear it, Maddy. I need to know you don’t want me to stop this and call an ambulance for you.”

“… don’t stop …” she grunted, sounding desperate, “… please don’t stop … please … let me die … I want to die …”

I pulled one arm free and reached down to the controls.

“Once I push this button it’s going to punch a hole in your stomach and fuck you deeper than you’ve ever been fucked. You’ll be like those girls today, dying in panic while the impaler fucks your throat.”

“… please …” Madison cried out, arching her back, my bruised left arm still in her grip, “I’m ready, Kimmy … do it … please do it …”

“Say it, Maddy. Tell me what you want.”

“Impale me! Impale me … fuck my guts with it!” she cried out and I keyed the controls before she finished her sentence.

“GLRGL!” Madisons’s body arched hard and her mouth opened wide as the spit’s retractable knives punched an X incision in her stomach and thrust inside. I keyed another switch and the spit started thrusting hard and fast inside her punctured stomach.

Madison started heaving and gagging immediately, turning her head to the side (such a considerate girl) and true to her word, began vomiting yellow streaked foam. She was unable to speak, gagging and heaving - sometimes dry, sometimes wet - continuously and loudly.

I reached down and jogged the spit deeper and Madison added grunts to the death song she was singing as the spit pounded at the top of her stomach, trying to penetrate her esophageal sphincter. I felt her shifting under my hands, trying to line it up. I let her work at it, knowing that her reaction would tell me when it was in place.

It took Madison a few more seconds to align the top opening of her stomach with the spit, shaking, squirming, and humping under me, and once forgetting herself and puking all over my hair, neck, and shoulder. But suddenly she arched her back and lifted her chin, gagging harder than before and I knew the round tip had found her gullet.

I reached down and set the advance on the impaler to maximum and the spit responded by fucking itself higher with each stroke. Madison stopped puking, but her belly continued to heave violently.

“… that’s it … glurph … it’s there - it’s there … glurph …” Madison gurgled and grunted as she squirmed and bucked under me.

“Oh! Urlph!” Madison cried out then started making wet choking sounds which meant that the shaft was sending her gullet into spasms - she could no longer breathe or speak. This is when Madison got what she was looking for; overwhelming panic as her throat was being fucked, knowing it wasn’t going to stop.

Madison bucked and squirmed hard, trying to get away. She slapped my shoulder with her hands; her heals drummed on the impaler; her body twisting as she arched her head back trying to elongate her throat as the spit drove a little deeper with each violent thrust. I rose up and pressed down hard on her lower belly and chest to hold her to the bench. I could feel her belly heaving, occasionally convulsing hard enough to send more puke up around the shaft to spew from her open lips.

As she fought me, I heard the loud spray of piss, and the burbling wet sounds as her bowels erupted - her body knew she was dying and was giving up all hope, now she needed to do the same.

I resumed grinding hard and deep on her g-spot.

“That’s it Maddy.” I said in my kindest voice, “This is what you wanted. Just stop fighting and let it take you.”

Madison responded by reaching up and grabbing my left breast, digging her fingers in deep as though hanging on for her life. She was still choking and heaving on the shaft fucking her throat.

“Just like those girls today, honey.” I told her, “Knowing you made a mistake, wanting it to stop, but I’m not going to stop it. You’re being fucked to death like all those girls today.”

Madison started erratically humping the shaft under me as the shaft started compressing the root of her tongue, I hoped she could have a death orgasm.

“This is it, baby! Here it comes!”

I reached down and turned off the limiter to allow the shaft into her mouth. Madison felt the change and arched her back hard, turning her head and straightening her throat. I knew that she made the decision to limit it when she was calm and rational, but at that moment she wouldn’t care. I wanted her to have the full experience.

“You’re joining the chipped tooth club, Maddy.” I cooed as she gurgled and strained and I pressed down harder on her g-spot, “Feel it filling your mouth and let yourself cum one last time.”

Madison’s body tensed and she twisted hard and held herself rigid as the shaft compressed the root of her tongue on its final push, her lips parting like a baby bird in anticipation of the total impalement. I keyed the controls and the impaler pushed the shaft through her mouth in one slow stroke until ten inches was sticking out of her. I then set the advance to zero and the thrust to a slow eight inches. Madison’s body was being fucked from cunt to mouth.

I could still feel and hear the straining as her body convulsed, and I could hear her teeth chattering on the steel as her jaw shivered. Suddenly she started shuddering hard with her final orgasm, squeezing my breast so hard that ten days later it still has five deep purple bruises yellowing around the edges from her clawed fingers. In the midst of her death orgasm, Madison heaved wetly and bit down on the shaft. I heard the cracking of her front teeth and knew that it only added to her experience - she would bear the evidence of her sexual adventure, her body ruined to the point of death.

Madison came hard for a long time - her thighs clenched tight, trapping the spit; toes curling; her belly undulating; her throat working the shaft that slid back and forth through her body. Her fingertips gripping my breast digging deep as she clung to me and must have felt like a desperate way to stay connected to this life. And it was when that grip loosened and her hand released me that I knew Madison was giving up on her struggle to live.

Her belly relaxed under my hand, her thighs flopped open, her entire body slumped, and her throat and mouth went soft. I reached up and placed two fingers on her throat - her heart was still beating.

“Shhh. You’re a good girl, Maddy.” I whispered to her, not sure she could hear me, but hoping, “It’s all over now. Just let it fuck you as you go to sleep. I’ll stay with you, honey, it’s okay - it’s safe to go to sleep.”

And under my fingertips I felt Madison’s heart fluttering weakly. Her body twitched, her belly made a half-hearted undulation then I felt her heart stop beating. Her body still moved as the spit continued to fuck her until I switched it off.

I had a shower, got dressed, and added the equipment room to the clean-up crew’s list, ticking off vomit, urine, and feces on the chart, and adding “suicide” in the notes section.