He did me in an old house that no one lived in anymore. I lived me last there and he fulfilled me dream to be fucked while dying until the last orgasm was driven from me body. I asked for the shock, I asked for the intensity, and I asked for those final rape-driven orgasms that would burn the desire from me body and leave me in peace.
He gave me everything I asked for. He made me burn so bright.
People don’t understand the torture of Persistent Genital Arousal Disorder, they think it sexy to be randy all the time. PGAD makes me cum-off unexpectedly dozens of times a day. It keeps me aroused and oozing all the time to the point that I have to wear adult nappies to soak it up and reduce the smell. I wake up in the middle of the night twisting and shuddering as I cum-off; I cum-off while I try to eat breakfast; I cum-off in the shower; I cum-off when I’m shopping ... it never ends. And when I’m not cumming-off, me quim and arsehole ache from the constant involuntary clenching, and me clit stays hard and so sensitive I want to scream.
It started during puberty - strong sexual arousal that drove me to masturbate like a mad thing more and more often each day. At first I took a perverse joy in this new and constant pleasure. I thought all girls went through this - that it was the normal bloom of sexuality. But soon I was cumming-off just sitting at me desk in school, leaving me knickers a slimy mess. I also learned that I was unique - me girlfriends didn’t seem interested in sex and only a few admitted that they masturbated.
I tried to normalize it by getting with boys when I was far too young - thinking if I got rogered hard it would satisfy the longing in me quim. If anything it made it worse. I started with one boy, then it was him and his mate, then his mates, until one night in desperation I went to a basement party with the entire school football team and had it off with all of them for hours. It didn’t quench the flame in me - I cum-off three times as I walked home after, their jizzum slithering down me inner thighs as I walked. I realized that other girls got soft and loose after getting rogered and cumming-off, for me my quim and arsehole would just keep quivering and clenching - it was madness.
Word got around fast after that and boys sought me out, taking me roughly in dark corners, basements, even in garden sheds. I discovered even rough anal sex made me cum-off. I’d fuck anything or anyone; I’d bring myself off in the school bathrooms; I’d fuck the corner of tables; me bedpost; I even fucked our dog. But things got crazy for me when I started letting gangster boys fuck me even though they’d call me a sket; once a gang kept me overnight in a skuzz hotel room and I lost track of how many came in and fucked me and I swallowed so much jizz I had to go puke it up - it came up in clots like raw oysters.
When I came up preggers me mum took me to the A&E and the third Doctor who saw me was a woman and I confided in her. PGAD she told me, “It’s not your fault.” and those were the sweetest four words I ever heard. The PAGD caused me to miscarry, but that Doctor took me on as a patient and prescribed clonazepam, then antidepressants and they worked for a while - not eliminating the PGAD but dulling it. We even tried electro convulsive therapy and I cum-off right on the table when they put the electricity to me brain.
Nothing we tried worked, and it came down to either learning to live with it or surgery to sever the nerves to me quim and clit that would mean I would never enjoy sex again and would probably be incontinent. I couldn’t go on living with it and figured I’d rather die than not feel anything in me crotch ever again - I was already wearing nappies but to have to wear them because I was pissing meself constantly was too horrible to consider.
I was being tortured by me sexuality, so I decided to die by it. I started visiting snuff chat rooms - I could be candid on the chats, hidden behind me nickname, so everyone there knew me condition. I got lots of offers of sex, but that wasn’t what I was looking for. Then I met him.
He cared. He wanted to help me. He said such sweet, comforting things to me. So I opened up to him and we even shared our real first names. He told me he’d done it before - ending girls’ lives while they had their final orgasms, he even sent me links to news reports; the girl in the bog, the girl on that old estate, and the hanged girl whose body was found laid out naked and wrapped in plastic on the loading dock of a funeral home.
He said he could do things to me I’d never felt afore and that I would be overwhelmed with it all. And when it was time to die I would feel spent and at peace as I slipped away as he held me in his arms. I craved that feeling after so many years of endless sexual torture.
Now here I am. The house is old and damp, it smells of mildew and the musky scent of rodents, the floor is filthy and gritty. We are both naked and facing each other. He is hiding something in his right hand behind his back.
I am aroused as usual, but also afraid. Me quim and arsehole are aching and clenching and me legs feel rubbery and weak. I am as I always am; wanting sex; wanting to be penetrated hard and deep, ravaged and made to cum-off; and to be released from this hell. Since puberty me body has held me hostage - I liken what I feel all day and every day to be the feelings normal people have when they edge themselves toward the threshold of orgasm and stop to lie there quivering and craving. I have never experienced the calm other people do after a sexual climax, but tonight I hope to.
“Are you ready, lass?” he asks and he is smiling.
“Yes.” I answer, me voice quivery and weak; “Do me.”
And he does ...
He reaches up and wraps his left hand behind me neck to steady me, then his right hand moves fast - a blur; a glint of metal - and I feel the impact low on me belly and in me belly. I grunt as I feel both impact and penetration simultaneously; he has driven a brutal large knife into me belly and it feels good and bad at the same time.
“Come here, luv.” he whispers as he pulls me close, “Just let it happen.”
It has taken me breath away but it has also stopped the ache in me quim and me arsehole. I feel them clench tight in a brief, bright flash of intense ecstasy then release when he pulls me to him. I feel the comfort of his caring embrace and I’m rising fast to the edge of cumming-off as he holds the knife in me belly. I can’t speak, I can’t even breathe as the shock of the impact begins to resolve into a nuance of sensations; the blade has penetrated me womb and I can feel it impaled on the hard steel, pulling upward as I move, stretching it and me quim and pulling me labia inside me.
“... oh fuck ...” I finally gasp.
“Is it good, lassie?” he murmurs. I catch a shuddering breath before I can answer;
“... yes ...” I gasp again.
“... yes ... mercy, please ... yes ...” - I want that bright flash again.
He rips the knife from me belly and slams it home once again. It is lower, penetrating through me g-spot, quim, and puncturing me rectum. Again that instant of intense ecstasy flashes up me core like a bolt of lightening. I’m going to cum-off - oh god I’m going to cum-off - but this time it builds differently; it feels like I’m going to swell up and burst from it. The build is rising higher and instead of clenching and tightening, I feel me quim and arsehole loosen more and gape as me bowels rumble. I feel me quim oozing and when I fart it’s long and wet and I know both are bloody.
Without asking he plunges the blade into me again - flash! - grinding it now, making me crotch tingle and feel cold and me thighs shake so horrible that me hip joints feel dislocated. If he weren’t holding me I would have collapsed by now. Me lower belly is a confusion of pain and intense pleasure, of heat and cold, of looseness and bloat. I feel like I should be pissing and me bowels are rumbling so much I’m sure I’m about to soil meself, but in the midst of it all I want to be fucked so bad ... I want a cock pounding inside the swampy mess of me quim.
“... nghaa ...” I make a guttural, animal sound when I try to speak, then; “... f-f-fu-fuck me ...” and in a flash the knife sucks out of me belly and I am hitting the floor on me back. Me head hitting the floor stuns me and his weight slams me flat and his cock thrusts hilt-deep into me quim in one go.
I am quivering all over, me body jerking and shaking like I’m having a seizure and he is fucking me hard, our pubic bones slamming together like a smith’s hammer as his cock pounds inside me like the piston of an old time locomotive. Shockwaves pound up through me core, making me gasp and cry, making me gag and heave, and - thank god - making me cum-off so violently that I can hardly stand it. I feel muscle tissue ripping as me belly clenches with each wave of blindingly brilliant orgasmic contractions. Me toes curl so tight me feet ache as he keeps pounding me, the violence as he fucks me something I’ve never felt before and each time I think I can bear no more, me orgasm convulses inside me harder and tighter than the last.
It seems to never end; his cock wet and slamming inside me quim, the weight of his body humping frantically on mine as he ruts me like an animal. I am trying to scream but I can’t. I am weeping, gasping, wanting to express this painful ecstasy with me voice but I can’t - I just can’t.
I hear him growl as he pumps his jizz into me and I begin to doubt that I will be left in peace when this is done when suddenly I feel him move differently and a flash of pain and penetration strikes me under me left armpit and I feel that bright flash again, but this time in me chest. I feel me heart flutter weakly and me left lung begins to gurgle as it fills with blood - he has stabbed me deep.
He slows then stops moving inside me, coming to rest with his cock pressed deep. He pulls the knife out and I hear it clatter on the floor as he wraps his arms tight around me and holds me close. Me orgasm is fading.
“Shhh, lassie.” he soothes me gently, his mouth so close to me ear I feel his breath, “It’s time to be calm and to sleep.”
And I feel it, or rather I don't feel it; the quivering and clenching is gone and I feel me arsehole and quim relaxing, the ache and craving are gone and I know they won’t return; I feel a warmth flooding me body and all me muscles relax, bathed in that sweet warmth; I feel me swollen belly slump and push out at the sides from his weight pressing down on me.
I am sinking into a soft sleepiness and cast back to when I was little; falling asleep in me mum’s arms as we cuddled on the couch and waking fresh and happy the next morning in me own bed. For a moment I am back then - safe and warm in me mum’s arms, the murmur of the telly lulling me to sleep.
I won’t be waking up in me own bed this time.
I won’t be waking up at all.
And that’s okay - me body is still and knackered and my years of sexual torture are only a memory.
He leaves me body there on the floor, me eyes still open and a little bit crossed; me belly a horror of blood and bits of me flesh; me flabby thighs still open and inviting like they have been since puberty cursed me.
He splashes something onto me body and round the room, then down the hall and out the door and when the flame roars up the stairs and down the hall into the room, I light up and flash bright and pure and I learn that me fat melts and burns like paraffin. I brighten the night like the sun and it takes so long for the fire brigade to arrive and get sorted out that there is nothing left but me brittle, dry bones in the ashes.
They take a long time to puzzle out who I was because even me fillings melted.