He did me in his shop on a Saturday on a beautiful sunny spring morning. I’d enjoyed the breeze on my face coming through the open window of the coach and all the way I was squeezing my thighs together feeling smug that I had a secret no one else knew; I was on my way to be hanged to death and I was happier than I’d ever been.
Last night I was logged on as “sadgrll” when I let slip I still didn’t want to live anymore that he took notice of me. It was a suicide support chat forum that the psychologist at the hospital suggested I use on nights I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t even notice him amongst the two-dozen other users until he messaged me while others in the chat started their chorus of how much I had to live for.
“Ididit” was his nick, and he popped up in a PM right after I said what I did.
Ididit: r u serious?
sadgrll: ... yes
Ididit: what’s stopping you?
sadgrll: I’m a coward and I fucked up the only serious attempt I made
sadgrll: Hanging. The cord broke
sadgrll: Not funny
Ididit: I can help
sadgrll: Help how?
Ididit: my rope won’t break
So it’s twelve hours later and I’m in his shop stripping off my clothes. The noose is already hanging from the rafters and I appreciate that he used new rope to tie it.
“You’re trembling, luv.” he says, and he’s right; my legs feel wobbly and my hands are shaking as I peel my panties off, “Here, I’ll take those.”
I hand him my panties and he holds the crotch to his nose and inhales deeply.
“Ohh, you’re a randy lass.” he says and stuffs them in his pocket as I stand upright, “Now, do you need a few minutes to get yersel’ ready?”
I shake my head, not trusting myself to talk, and he moves close, twirling one nipple then the other, tracing his fingertips down my belly to cup my bare mound. He curls two fingers and they slide into me easily, then grips me and lifts. I push my mound against his hand and come up on my tiptoes.
“You are ready, aren’t you?” he says and I nod, my mouth so dry I’m afraid to speak, “Are you scared?”
I nod again and her grinds his hand against me, still pulling me upward.
He leans close and whispers; “Your fear will vanish once it starts, lass. You were scared last time, yeah?”
“... yes ...” I manage, my voice weak and hoarse.
“But the fear stopped and desire took over.”
“... yes ...”
“Did you cum?”
“... I started ...”
“But the cord broke.”
“... yes ...”
Not only did the cord break but my mom heard me hit the floor and ran upstairs to my room and saw me and the cord and the welts around my throat and went into hysterics. Police were called and I ended up in the A&E and admitted to the psych ward where I spent the last six weeks. It took me that long to put on a happy face and tell them what they wanted to hear so they’d let me go. No matter what I told them, I was going to kill myself.
He gives my sex another squeeze and lets me go, then wipes my slippery sex stink from his fingers on my upper lip and smiles, “Up you get, my darlin’.”
I step up onto the plastic stool and he has to steady me because my legs are still weak.
I’m so scared.
He loops the noose gently around my neck and snugs it in behind where my vertebrae meet my skull. I hear a rattle of metal and he takes my right hand. He means to handcuff me.
“... no ... please ...” I croak.
“Alright.” and I hear him set the cuffs down on a table. He caresses me, stroking my skin, my breasts, my nipples. He slides his hand up my inner thighs and with his fingers slides easily up the deep crease of my bottom between my sweaty cheeks and presses fingers against my tight anus, dimpling it deeper. I whimper - it feels good. Then I hear another metallic sound and he presses something round and heavy inside my vagina and another up my arse. I know what they are - heavy metal Ben Wa balls that girls use to masturbate with.
“When they fall out you’ll know you’re surrendering.” he explains as he massages my anus and I feel it tighten, pulling the ball up into my rectum. I can feel their weight inside me and I like the feeling.
“I’m going to fuck your arse when you’re gone.” he growls softly, “Does tha’ arouse you?”
“Then it’s time to go, luv.” he whispers - I gasp in my last breath - and he kicks the stool three times before my stockinged feet lose their purchase and the noose cinches tight and I’m dangling.
The rope is soft but its grip round my throat is unyielding, and it is tight around my gag reflex. At first I tense up, my body going rigid, my anus and sex tight, holding the balls deep inside me. My stomach starts to curl inside me as I gag and my mouth waters. He told me this would happen - it’s the body’s natural urge to survive, plus I fear losing control; to embarrass myself in my final moments by vomiting, pissing myself, maybe shitting myself.
“Just let go, luv.” his voice is soft and soothing as he strokes my lower back, “Let go and the good feelings will come.”
He’s right - I don’t want to die tense and fighting for my life. I want to feel my body go through this entire process, I’m here to surrender and relish these final moments of dying no matter the form they take. He assured me that any control I lose will be blameless - like a baby unable to control its body. That thought reminds me why I’m really here and it’s like a switch thrown inside me.
My body relaxes and I feel it slump. The cords in my neck go slack and I feel the noose tighten more around my now soft throat. I become very aware of the weight of my body, the heaviness of my legs, even the heavy mass of my internal organs as my lower belly plumps, gravity pulling my intestines down into my pelvic cradle. I feel sensual and comfortable in my body, no longer caring if my stomach is flat, or my thighs aren’t thin. I can hear myself making soft groaning, gurgling sounds in my throat.
When the good feelings start they come on strong and seem to last for hours. I know this is my brain losing function - being starved for oxygen - and in reality I probably only lived on for less than a minute, but that isn’t how it felt.
My sex yawns open as my uterus is pushed downward by the weight of my intestines, pushing out the ball that falls heavy to the floor, bounces and rolls away. Right after it I feel a clot of my mucus pushed out into the ‘Y’ formed by my thighs and sex - I feel that area become slimy and I love the animal sexuality of that. My bowels come alive and start squirming inside me - the strong peristalsis of a dying body and almost at the same time I feel my anus gape and the ball slowly opens my sphincter and pops out past my flabby bum cheeks to fall to the floor. Then comes the vibrating burbling as my anus stays open. At first I think I am just farting, but I can hear the splattering of runny shit hitting the floor under my kicking feet.
It is in this instant that my orgasm begins. It starts in the core of my sex, so heavy and compressed in my pelvic cradle and I feel a clenching and pushing like a woman giving birth. I strain as it builds in strength and intensity like a reverse rollercoaster as it rises up through my belly to the pit of my stomach. Goose bumps dance over my skin, prickling over my thighs and bum and across my chest until my nipples feel electric.
My stomach tightens into a hard ball and begins convulsing, sending air and liquid up and down my gullet, churning and gurgling as it tries to push my breakfast up my throat and past my lips. My mouth is watering now and I feel the drool and little strings of vomit that squeezed past my constricted throat spilling from my lower lip to run down my chin and drip onto my belly.
My orgasm comes on full and powerful now and I hump the air like I am being fucked, curling my pelvis forward, pressing my mound outward, wanting to rub it against something - anything. I want a cock inside me, or fingers, or a dildo - I want to be fucked hard in this instant and my thoughts flash on him saying he was going to fuck my bum after I am dead and I wish he would do it now.
I feel more mucus oozing forcefully out of my fanny, streaming slick and oily between my thighs.
I am frantic now, desperate to be filled as I orgasm and hump like a slag, my body shaking and convulsing and like he is reading my mind I feel his fingers find my sex and insinuate themselves into my cunt - there, I thought it - I want my CUNT filled. I feel it open around his fingers - first two, then three, then four and his thumb and he’s pushing up hard, his other arm wrapped around my thighs. I feel a stretching like I’ve never felt and I love it. I LOVE IT! Then my cunt swallows his entire hand and I am filled like I’ve never been filled and he’s made a fist inside me and is pumping it deep.
I can hear him; “Oh, you sweet lass. You sweet, sweet lass.” and that’s when my world explodes. I feel my body clench tight and I arch then my energy is gone and I slump, my cunt gripping his hand like a clamp one second then going loose and slack. I go blind - and I know I’m blind because I’m still conscious. I grow confused rapidly, no longer knowing where I am or why I can’t breathe and not caring. I no longer remember my name. I feel warm and sleepy and then ...
He lowers my body to the floor and turns it on its side. My eyes stare at nothing, my mouth is loose, my lips flaccid, my face a mottled pale blue, and when he loosens the noose from around my throat vomit seeps from my mouth. My arms rest at odd angles in front of my face and I see I have tucked my thumbs inside my fingers like little girls do when they make a fist.
He draws one of my knees up and leaves the other straight so my pale bum is sticking up. He is true to his word; he parts the soiled cheeks of my bottom and fucks me anally, the loose fat of my bum jiggling as he pounds me until he cums inside me.
He walks away and comes back with a large squeeze bulb and pushes it into my rectum and empties it there. He is killing his sperm with bleach and I don’t mind - I can’t feel it. He wraps my body in plastic and tape, making a human shaped cocoon I don’t know what he does with my body when he takes it away, I just know it’s gone. I am going as well as the world grows bright and I become transparent.