Die Happy Inc. has an outreach service that provides sexual suicide services in the comfort of your own home. Clients who want to die at home in novel ways, surrounded by family could now do so.
The States Judiciary took notice of this new service and pushed legislation through to employ Die Happy staff like myself to carry out death sentences to overcome the legal problems they had been having since bringing back the death penalty.
The change in society’s majority opinion on the death penalty being cruel and unusual punishment changed because of the sudden increase in belief in reincarnation, plus the allowance of assisted suicide. Of course, the law follows the often misinterpreted biblical statement; “an eye for an eye”, so those sentenced to die were typically executed by the same method they used in taking a life. This resulted in hundreds of law suits citing this to again be labeled cruel and unusual punishment and social reformers called for more humane methods to meet the code of the new law. So the state contracted Die Happy to carry out these executions in a humane way - sexualizing a convicted person’s execution and allowing the condemned to choose where their execution takes place. Most choose to die at home.
The catch in the sentencing was that the date of the execution was never told to the condemned - the legal logic was that their victim was never informed of the date and time of their murder, so the condemned should suffer the same fate.
I started doing execution outreach service for Die Happy to pick up some extra cash. The schedule for us Helpers at our headquarters is four on four off, and we’re allowed to perform two home visit contracts per rotation.
It was hard to read the look Ashley gave me when she opened the door and saw Special Agent Adams and I standing on her family home’s front porch. She was scared, but she also appeared relieved, and I’m sure Mr and Mrs McGilver would be as well.
You see, her parents wanted her either out or dead.
Mr and Mrs McGilver had written to the Court two weeks ago requesting that either Ashley’s sentence be commuted to a prison term, or that her home execution be fast-tracked. In their letter, the McGilver’s told of Ashley no longer being the girl she once was; instead of the active, buoyant high school senior she was before her sentencing, she now seemed deeply depressed and so full of anxiety she couldn’t leave the house. They describe how Ashley couldn’t sleep for more than half an hour before awakening and wandering the house at all hours of the night. She couldn’t carry on a conversation, refused the visits of her friends, and spent a lot of her time isolating in her room.
Ashley’s conviction was for second-degree murder, though at her trial she claimed she never wanted to hurt anyone - that it was an accident. She testified that she was being bullied by a group of girls at her high school in her senior year was in fear of being hurt herself. According to her testimony, on the day of the crime, in a desperate bid to get away from her tormentors, she lashed out with the first thing she grabbed from her school bag - a metal ruler. Unfortunately for one of her bullies - and for Ashley - the bully’s throat was cut and she bled out, choking and gagging before the paramedics could arrive and render aid.
According to her version of the event, Ashley should have been convicted of manslaughter at most, but the girl who died was the daughter of one of the most powerful cult clerics in the state - so the misinterpreted “and eye for an eye” law was enforced.
As Adams read the execution order aloud in his firm, officious voice, Ashley’s eyes never left mine. She knew I would be the one to carry out the sentence, and probably knew that Adams was only there as a witness so he could report back to the court that the execution had been carried out as ordered and confirm the method used.
“Execution method is to be the severing of Ashley Anne McGilver’s throat, cutting through the left Carotid and right Carotid artery and Trachea. Sentence to be carried out no later than 1200 hours on April 27 of this year.” Adams finished reading the sentence, then glanced at his watch, “It is now 1102, the executioner has 58 minutes to conclude the execution.”
Ashley swallowed with difficulty, her eyes fixed on mine. The girl had dried spit at the corners of her mouth, dark circles under her eyes, and make-up residue that looked weeks old. She really was a mess.
“It’s the waiting that’s the hardest.” Ashley said in a small trembling voice as her eyes welled with tears.
Handing my kit bag to Adams, I wrapped my arms around Ashley and led her back into her home. As I brought her close, I could smell her stale body odour - she smelled of old sweat and crotch. The poor thing had been completely ignoring her hygiene for weeks.
“Shhh.” I tried to soothe her, “I know, Ashley . I know you didn’t mean to kill her.”
Ashley lived with her parents in their suburban home. Intel told us that her father would be at work until six that evening and mom was at her volunteer position at their church counselling office until five. Both parents would be visited by Special Agents at 1330 hours and given the news. By then the clean-up crew would have completed their work, and Ashley’s body would be bathed, her execution wound taped, and her body dressed and laid out on her bed.
As Adams took my kit bag to the bathroom then went to find the family cat and lock it in the back entranceway where its food, water, and litterbox was kept, I led Ashley to the living room couch.
She was crying by then - that hitched-breath sobbing that little girls do when they’re overwhelmed. I held her, and let her come to grips with this being her day.
“I’m so scared.” Ashley gasped, “I watched her die and it was horrible.”
“Yours won’t be horrible, Ashley - it will be intense, but it won't be horrible, I promise.” I said as Ashley searched my face for signs if I was trustworthy, “I’m a helper from Die Happy, I do this all the time and I will give you as much pleasure as possible.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” Ashley whispered, leaning close.
“Of course.” I said softly as Ashley moved her mouth close to my ear.
“I meant to do it.” she whispered, “I sharpened the ruler. I meant to cut her throat. I wish I hadn’t, but I did.”
I pulled back and looked in her eyes.
Ashley’s chin was quivering; “I deserve this, but it's taking too long. Now, I just want it over with.”
It’s not mine to judge; my job was to provide the most humane and pleasurable death possible.
I stood and helped her up, then holding her hand I led her to the large family bathroom. Inside, I told her to take all her clothes off, and stood behind her, massaging her shoulders and neck, stroking her body, and at last hugging her tight from behind once she was naked. The smell of stale crotch was stronger now - her panties were crusted and stained.
“Do you have sexual feelings for girls?” I asked as I started to get undressed - already knowing that the girl had demonstrated bisexual tendencies. Ashley shrugged;
“I have. I even got with a couple girls. But not recently.” she said, avoiding looking at me as I stripped.
“What do you enjoy sexually?”
Ashley blushed and hesitated.
“Now isn’t the time for modesty, honey. I need to know what you like to help you through this.” I said, peeling off my panties and socks.
“I like to feel filled up down there.” Ashley glanced up at my nudity, “Why are you naked?”
“The blood.” I whispered.
“Oh.” Ashley said, then took a slow deep breath and let it out. She was coming to grips with her impending execution and was accepting it.
I opened my kit and placed it beside the bathtub, then stepped in as I pulled on latex gloves. I motioned for Ashley to join me in the tub. She got in, hesitantly, unsteadily, her hands shaking. I laid a gloved hand on her shoulder.
“Kneel down, hon. Face the drain” I said. Steadying herself, she lowered herself on quivering legs and sat on her heels.
I pulled the items I would need from my kit and laid them out on the tub ledge where she couldn’t see.
“You’ve been masturbating a lot lately, haven’t you?” I asked as I picked up a sex toy and spread lubricant over it.
“Y-yes.” Ashley said hesitantly, “How do you know?”
“Most people facing execution do.” I answered, making conversation mostly, “It takes your mind off dying for a few minutes. Gives you those few minutes of peace. Now, lean forward and lift your bum.”
“It does bring peace.” Ashley agreed and did as I asked, “and … well, it helps to imagine it happening.”
I found her labia and pressed the tapered sex toy into her cunt - it was actually a butt plug, but it worked vaginally as well.
Ashley took a gasping breath through clenched teeth as the plug nestled deep inside her.
“You fantasize about having your throat cut while you masturbate?” I asked softly, my mouth close to her ear as I started to stroke her body, breasts, and nipples, “Lift your bum.”
“Y-yes.” Ashley said as she did what I asked and I slid one knee under her bum.
“Now sit down on my thigh. Harder. All your weight.” I instructed, and Ashley settled, putting pressure on her crotch and pushing the plug deeper. Ashley got it right away and gently grinding herself against my thigh.
“Feels good.” she whispered, “Does it matter? What I told you I mean.”
“Not to me.” I answered, “I’ll be just as attentive as I would with someone who is willing.”
“I am willing.” she said, “But scared.”
“That’s the best way to be.” I said, reaching around and stroking her breasts and nipples, "Willing ... let it happen ... don't fight it."
“My parents ...” Ashley breathed, “Will they see me after? I mean ... messy?”
“No hon.” I told her, still working her nipples, feeling her grind against my thigh, “After it’s all over a clean-up crew will arrive. They will bathe your body and hair, tape your wounds closed, clean up the bathroom. They have a cute blue velvet choker they will put around your throat to hide the tape, and a matching sundress and panties they will dress you in. Your parents will find you on your bed, looking sweet and fresh and like you’re sleeping.”
I felt the tension leaving Ashley’s body as I described the aftercare her body would receive.
“Blue is my favourite colour.” she whispered, her breathing speeding up.
“We know, hon.”
“Will you cut ...” she hesitated, “How will you do it?”
“I’m going to make three deep cuts with a scalpel.” I whispered in her ear, “I will cut both your Carotid arteries one at a time, then your Trachea. But I won’t start until you’re almost cumming. Ashley? - this is important ...”
“... yes ...” I could hear that sweet blend of arousal and fear in her voice.
“I want you to tell me when you’re close.” I said softly, “I want to start just before you cum to make it the best I can for you.”
“... ‘kay ...” she gasped breathlessly, but I doubt she will; voluntary assisted sexual suicides always do, but judicial executions almost never will - they want to hold on to even a few more seconds of life.
“Bleeding badly can be really scary.” I told her, “But I want you to try to just let it happen. And when the end starts - you’ll feel dizzy, whoozy - I want you give up control of your body. Just let it do what it wants. If you do that the last thing you feel will be an orgasm. It will be frantic and intense, but it will feel better if you just let it happen and don’t fight it.”
“I’ll try.” she answered in a weak, tremulous voice.
“I don’t know why we go to this expense of time and money.” Special Agent Adams voice broke the mood - he was leaning against the doorframe watching, “If it was up to me, I’d cut her throat and be done with it.”
Ashley tensed up, knowing he was present.
“It’s a good thing it’s not up to you.” I answered him, “Now, unless you want my report to include how you interfered with my contract, I’d suggest you limit yourself to observing.”
“Keep going, baby.” I whispered in Ashley’s ear, and the girl continued grinding her sex against my thigh. At times I clenched the mucles in my thigh to push back.
I picked up a tube of ointment and put a large dollop on the gloved fingers of my left hand. After dropping the tube back in my kit, I reached around and slowly massaged it across Ashley’s throat. She jerking nervously, but relaxed again when she realized it was just my hand and not the scalpel.
After Ashley’s throat was well coated with the ointment, I wiped the residue on my own thigh which went numb in seconds. Ashley reached up and touched her throat, then twisted her shoulders and head around to look at me questioningly.
“It won’t hurt.” I whispered. Ashley nodded and turned to face forward and continued to grind herself on my thigh.
I reached down and used the squeeze bulb attached to the plug inside her to pump it up.
“Oh!” Ashley grunted breathlessly, feeling the plug expanding inside her. I gave it 20 squeezes, enough for Ashley to feel that her cunt was full - about the same size as a man’s fist inside her, but without the pain of insertion.
“Feel good?” I whispered.
“Uh-huh.” Ashley breathed, pressing down harder on my thigh.
“How’s this?” I asked as I turned the plug on and it started vibrating inside her, from a low thudding rhythm increasing to a high frequency and cycling between the two. Ashley strained and curled her pelvis, pushing hard on my thigh. Because the plug was buried deep inside her, it was barely audible.
“It’s going to make me cum.” she said in a quavering voice.
“That’s the idea.” I whispered as I picked up my scalpel, “Keep going.”
Ashley ground herself against my thigh, moving the plug inside her, her thighs beginning to quiver. With one hand still twirling and pinching her nipples, I raised the scalpel to her throat - not touching yet, just being prepared.
“Breathe deep.” I whispered and Ashley did, “Big breaths with your belly.”
I laid the edge of the scalpel against her trachea to let her get used to it touching her as she breathed.
“Keep going.” I whispered as I pressed the scalpel against her throat, slowly increasing pressure. Ashley was grinding harder, her body starting to quiver and shake - she was getting close - I knew she wouldn’t tell me. As she neared orgasm, Ashley lowered her head so I had to gently place my hand on top of her head and arch her neck back. Having her throat exposed like that seemed to excite her - a blend of building arousal and fear.
I applied pressure and felt the scalpel bite through her skin, then I slowly pressed it deeper until I could feel the rapid pulse of her Carotid. Ashley gasped and her quivering increased.
“...oh fuck ...” she cried out as I swiftly sliced through her artery and pulled the scalpel clear, the thin blade singing. Blood immediately started pulsing from her throat and spraying across the clean porcelain of the tub in front of her. Ashley’s arms lifted and reached for nothing and she started shaking badly, her knees squeaking on the bathtub, but she was pressing down against my thigh harder, grinding faster, rolling her hips.
I switched hands and laid the scalpel against the other side of her throat and cut fast and deep - the blood pulsing from her throat doubling. Despite the terror she must be feeling, Ashley was doing her best to follow my advice and let her body respond to the vibrating plug inside her. I reached down with my free hand and cupped her lower belly, feeling it plump up as she neared orgasm.
I felt her oblique muscles and thighs start to quiver. It was time.
I pulled the scalpel hard against her Trachea and sliced fast across it, feeling the blade sink into the void of her gullet as it cut through the cartilage and soft tissue. I quickly dropped the scalpel into my bag and wrapped both arms around her, twirling and pinching her nipples with one hand and sliding my other hand down her lower belly to cup and squeeze her mound.
Ashley jerked and squirmed in my arms as her gag reflex kicked in - she was choking and heaving and vomiting - the spray coming out of her mouth and the slilt in her throat. The smell of bile, coffee, and half digested food filled the room as she struggled. Her arms flailed and her knees squeaked and thumped against the tub as her thighs opened and closed sporadically. I cut her gag relex on purpose - the muscles girls use when vomiting are the same ones that are triggered when we cum - that's why a lot of girls can cum while being throat-fucked. I ground my fingers against her clit and felt her orgasm kick in hard, wracking her body, making her buck and squirm. She was shaking violently, but she was cumming like I promised she would. I held her tight as she gagged and retched, her orgasm storming in her belly, her struggling loud in the bathroom. She cried out at the peak of her orgasm but it came out as two horrid, loud wet heaves, her hips humping as she gave herself to her final orgasm.
It only took a matter of seconds more for the movements of her body to begin to slow. Her arms dropped to rest on her thighs and I felt her weight in my arms increase as she started to lose consciousness from the massive bleeding. I hugged her sagging body tight to mine to prevent her from falling sideways in the tub as she started to slump, the pulses of blood from her throat lessening in frequency and force. Her heart began to falter, the beats becoming sporadic; her heaving decreased in force to small choking sounds; her head rolling to rest on my right arm. After a few more seconds her lower belly grew soft and she sagged in my arms.
I held her now soft, young body in my arms, feeling her weight increasing as even her thighs went limp. She died by degrees, gravity pulling at her limp body and her flaccid belly pooching outward as her thighs flattened and spread. I held her until I was sure she was gone - I wanted her to feel my arms around her as she died, reminding her she was not alone in death.
In the end, I lowered her face down in the tub so her flaccid bum rose. In her struggles she had soiled herself - a liquid release from her bowels in the process of dying as blameless as an infant’s. Steadying her body, I turned off the vibe and deflated the plug. There was no resistance as I pulled it from her now loose cunt.
Getting out of the tub, I sat her back up and gently laid her against the back of the tub to await the clean-up crew. I didn’t want what blood was left in her body to discolour her face. She was pale and looked at peace.
“Sentence carried out at 1152, this date.” Special Agent Adams broke the silence as he narrated while he filled in his report, still sounding officious and cold. But as I cleaned myself with large wet wipes and got dressed, I saw that the front of his trousers were tented from his erection, a darkened stain of precum spreading at the crotch. Maybe he was human after all.