He did me in a motorway service hotel room off the M27 near Portsmouth. He picked it because the walls were concrete and it was well insulated to dim down the noise of the cars shushing past on M27. He had me check in under me own name in a particular room and he came later by the side exit door I’d propped open for him.
He knew I would get loud and messy and him being careful and clever, any of his DNA they might find later could be explained away by him staying in the same room a week before.
When we chatted online and he told me about the ways he did the other girls, I was pretty trolleyed from the wine I’d drank that night and we were both creasing as we discussed all the unique ways he could do a girl. It was the first time I’d laughed in the devil knows how long.
I made a joke - him being a plumber - about how would he go about ‘cleaning out me pipes’ and he told me about a drain cleaner that would do the job. I told him I’d heard drinking it was real horror show, but he said that taking a diluted mixture as an enema would be better; slower, less pain, but lots of gurgling, swelling and bloat that would take some time to kill me.
Me fanny tightened and I messed me knickers as he described how it would be for me and I rogered meself that night and the next three thinking about it. I couldn’t get it out of me head. See; I like enemas, yeah? I liked the bloaty liquid feeling, and dying that way appealed. I thought the idea was brilliant.
So here I am in the motor lodge on me hands and knees, in me bra with me knickers pulled down and him holding the tube in me arse as he empties the syphon into me bowels.
“How’s it feel so far, lass?” he asks me.
“Good.” I say, feeling the fluid spreading up the left side of me belly. It feels warm inside me, “How much am I getting?”
“Only a liter, luv.” he says gentle-like, “It’s all you need.”
I hardly feel filled when he says; “Tighten.” and I know what he means - he wants me to grip down on me sphincter so he can take the tube out. I do and he does. I get up and pull me knickers back up and sit back on me chair as he puts the syphon away in his bag. I have to sit down because I’m feeling a little wobbly and have the shivers all of a sudden.
He comes and sits at the table with me and smiles.
“Are you feeling it yet?” he asks.
“It feels like a fizzy drink in me belly.” I say.
“No.” I answer. But I’m starting to feel overheated and sweaty and I can feel the fizzy feeling spreading up me belly, “Oh jeezuz, it’s travelling.”
“It’s supposed to.” he says, “It’ll make its way through all your pipes to clear them out. Soon it’ll start dissolving all the clogs.”
“Clogs?” I ask, starting to sweat bad and feeling sick in me stomach.
“Yeah.” he smiles and reaches out to hold me hand, “In pipes it dissolves all the organic material so it can be flushed away. Your whole belly is organic though, so it’s got a lot to work through.”
Me stomach churns and I burp, tasting something awful and metallic.
“Christ, I can taste it.” I moan, “I’m gonna be sick.”
“No worries, luv. It’s not in your stomach yet. Your belly is absorbing it and it’s in your system. That’s all you’re tasting.” he reassures me.
But I can’t help it, I’m feeling shaky and feverish and lean forward to sick-up, pulling me hand out of his. It feels like a living thing slithering around in me belly, travelling up me left side and across under me stomach. I vomit a bit of bile on the carpet then an overwhelming urge to get it out of me takes over. I start fingering me throat, making meself gag and heave as the fizzing in me belly gets stronger. I can hear me belly gurgling now and it’s getting hotter in me gut.
“Come on now, lass. You’re alright.” he says as he stands up and comes round to me side of the table, “You’ve got time, lassie, plenty of time. You’re just feeling some panic is all - from the chemicals in yer system, you know.”
I feel his strong arms slide round me and he lifts me to me feet, me head spinning like I’m drunk.
“Let’s get you on the bed.” he says as he half carries me along. Me legs feel rubbery and me crotch feels hollow and disconnected.
“Oh, you fucker.” I slur me curse at him, feeling so sick, “You’ve killed me.”
“Aye.” he laughs, “That’s the idea, isn’t it? Besides, lass, you’ve got a good ten minutes afore it gets bad.”
Him standing at the foot of the bed holding me up with one arm, reaches down and cups me fanny with the other hand and squeezes me there and it feels good. He starts to massage deep and I feel the lips of me quim unstick and me flow of girly cum is released, making what I know is a right mucky, milky, mess in the crotch of me knickers. It reminds me that under the gurgling and bubbling in me guts I’m randy as hell. I’ve been randy all day thinking about these few moments that I’ve chosen to be me last and here I am wasting them. I let me arousal rise up and as it does the swelling and fizziness in me belly feels sexual even though I still feel sick. I grind myself against his hand.
“There’s a good lass.” he murmurs, his mouth close to me ear, “Still have a bad taste?”
“Mm-hmm.” I say, closing me eyes and laying me forehead against his chest. I like how I feel now - like a little girl - like I’m giving meself to an adult, trusting him to see me through this; no longer resisting what’s happening inside me bowels, just letting me muscles relax and me belly slump and plump.
“Then let’s give you something that tastes better.” he says as he gently eases me down on the bed and lays me on me back. I hear him undressing as I lay me trembling hands on me grumbling belly - it’s swelling and the pressure inside feels good on me quim. I still feel sick in me stomach and me mouth is watering like crazy, but it’s becoming a squirmy sexual feeling that goes along with me head going all spinny. I open me eyes and watch the ceiling turning all widdershins so I close them again. It reminds me of being really trolleyed after a night at the pub, feeling dizzy and sick and randy all at the same time. I’ve frigged meself off sitting on me bathroom floor and vomiting up the nights fare into the toilet so many, many times.
The bed shakes as he climbs onto it and I feel his body heat on me face and feel him press a softness against me lips.
“Were you telling it true when you said you liked a bit of cock in your throat?” he asks.
The softness is the velvet helmet of his cock, and he’s right - I told him that and it’s true; getting rogered in the throat can almost make me blow me lump all on its own. I open me lips and he sinks his cock into the drooling swamp of me gob and starts to fuck me throat.
I love the jittery feeling in me stomach as I gag down his cock and me belly gurgles and fizzes as it bloats big like I’m full preggers. The fizzing has gone full circle now; up me left side and across the top, now down me right side back to me crotch. The fizzing flashes bright as it squirts from me large colon into me small intestines and its progress speeds up. It’s like a long liquid snake wriggling through me from me arsehole to me stomach, filling me up as it makes its way. I wonder how it will feel to have that fizz bloat me stomach then push up me gullet and out me mouth and nose. And I wonder if I’ll live that long.
It doesn’t really matter then, does it? I’m in me bliss right now; his cock sliding easy deep in me throat making me gag and heave and sick-up; the fizzy drain cleaner making me belly swell as it eats away at me, stripping the flesh from me bowels; me squirming and humping like a whore on Saturday night as it slowly kills me. It’s all combined like a slow orgasm and I’m so glad I chose to end it this way.
When I started visiting the suicide chat forum I was looking for courage and the least painful way to end me miserable life. I thought if I chatted with other girls who had tried suicide I would learn what not to do, and maybe learn how to do it best. But I didn’t get those things from other girls; they was all like me; sad and hopeless and no more expert in killing themselves as I was. One girl tried hanging and said that after the initial pain, it felt dreamy and sweet but she’d been found and saved and now her family watched her all the time. They even took off her bedroom and bathroom door, replacing them with curtains.
It took meeting him there for me to find an ally and a chance through our talks to find the best way for me - this way - and now I’m being done by this sweet man.
I’m delirious now; hot and sweaty and convulsing; so lost in this perverse suicide. The liquid fizzy snake is winding through me bowels like a berserker demon, the sensations in me swelling belly brilliant and pure ecstasy. Me throat has become me twat - wet and slick and being fucked silly by this beautiful man. I want the sensation of him gushing his load down me gullet to be the last thing I feel, but the world is becoming dim and distant. Me bloated body is getting lighter. I’m floating in air, growing light as a feather.
Oh, fuck me sweet man, fuck me forever. Fill me with your seed. Jet your ropey white cum into the swollen polluted ruin of me body.
Oh, I love you so.
Floating through this slow orgasm, me body expanding to fill the world ... the universe. His cock expanding too, stretching me throat wider and wider, and no cock has ever given me the pleasure the one in me throat is, each thrust pushing back against the pressure in me expanding belly, forcing me burps back down when they come up. If this orgasm was sped up I’d be screaming, instead I flow through it like a small boat that has slipped its tether and is floating free on the mirroring waters of a small lake.
Such peace. Such bliss. I’m so saturated by it I don’t even notice me heart stop beating.
I die just as he cums, mashing his crotch hard against me face as his cock pulses in me tight throat. He groans long and loud and shudders his ecstasy as he grips me hair and holds me head tight to him, then flops off me as the last of his strength leaves him trembling and gasping for air beside me bloated sweaty corpse.
He watches me for a few moments as me arsehole pops and fizzes and a pink slurry burbles out of me to mess me knickers and soak through the bed covers. He rises to dress and watches me face; me open mouth, me eyes that stare at nothing. He picks up his bag and waits; watching the liquid snake finally finish its journey up me gullet and the pink foam overspills me slack lips to run down me pale cheeks and bleach me hair. He’s satisfied then; the drain cleaner has destroyed the DNA in his cum coating me throat, so he leaves me.
Oh, such an intense way to end a miserable life and such a horror show of a corpse to leave behind. When the bobbies and the coroner come they think I was forced but are puzzled that I weren’t tied down. I wish I could tell them I came willingly and that this was the best night of me life.