I am very late arriving for the anniversary orgy. In the past week I have flip-flopped on my decision so many times, called myself crazy to even consider it, yet in the end I choose to go - laying in bed imagining what is happening to my friends and other girls and masturbating wasn’t enough. I will leave my fate to chance (or my level of sexual arousal at any given moment). I know the danger in coming here - I may walk out in the dawn’s grey light, or I might be carried out in a heavy plastic bag, tagged and catalogued during the investigation, then taken to be eviscerated on a stainless steel platform to find out what killed me. The latter both excites me and scares the shit out of me.
Like everyone invited was instructed, I park two blocks away and pick my way down the slushy ruts through alleys and cut through the empty wooded lot to enter the boarded-up house through the upstairs back door - the only door you can open without a crow bar. As I approach I silently repeat; ‘the upstairs is safe - the upstairs is safe’ over and over in my mind. The windows are boarded up with plywood cut to fit, ordered by the town council. If windows are the eyes of a house, Legend House has been blinded and left to keep its bloody secrets in the dark - secrets of pain and ecstasy, of visceral sex and dying girls.
The multiple footprints through the half melted snow have made pathways between the trees - trails leading to sexual horror for both the victims and the survivors. There are many footprints so the house must be crowded. The cops won’t notice these trails from their cars even if they are looking, and it’s too cold and wet for them to want to get out of their warm cars to patrol on foot.
We are celebrating the fifth anniversary of the original four Legend House girls. They died in the summer, but the cops make regular patrols of the boarded up house all summer long because too many kids come here to fuck and sometimes to die, so holding the anniversary party in winter was our only option.
I open the plywood covered back door and step inside the kitchen to the muffled sounds of sexual moans and grunting deeper inside the house. As I close the door tight, I feel the rush of heat - the upstairs is super hot and humid - I remember physics; heat rises, and I know the boys have put propane heaters in the basement to take off the late winter chill.
I can smell aroused cunt and piss as my eyes scan the darkened kitchen. In a corner, slumped against a closed door, her head held up by a nylon cord around her throat is the first dead girl I see tonight. I’ve seen her around in the hallways at school but don’t know her name. The crotch of her jean shorts is sopping wet, both of her hands hang limp between her open thighs. I wonder what brought her here and no further. I suspect autoerotic asphyxiation. I imagine that she came here and stripped off her winter clothes but didn’t have the stomach to go further. But she was brave enough to kill herself here all alone. Not as brave as those who would go downstairs tonight, but brave still the same. I hope she masturbated to an orgasm before she died.
I see the video camera and cue card set up in the kitchen with a chair facing it. I sit, then lean forward to hit the record button. I take a breath and start reading from the cue card.
“Hi. My name is Rebecca Anne Holtzman” I almost say “[insert name here]” for comic relief, but I’m not feeling very funny tonight, “I’ve come to Legend House with full knowledge of what will happen here tonight. I am ready … well … I MAY be ready to die tonight in the Legend House Anniversary Orgy … we’ll see how that goes. I ask that the authorities not investigate the deaths of myself or the other girls, and if they do and apprehend potential suspects, that this tape be entered into evidence for the defense. Please consider my death … my possible death … a suicide. To my friends and family, I want you to understand that I choose this. It is nothing you have done wrong. I have dark sexual appetites that only this orgy can satisfy. Please don’t blame yourself, and don’t think my death was horrible - no matter what is done to me tonight, those that do it will ensure that I die … MIGHT die … in ecstasy.”
I pause, when I read the note; ‘ADD ANY PERSONAL MESSAGES HERE’.
“Mom. I love you. If I do die here tonight, please keep loving me back.”
I lean forward and hit the record button again and watch for the red light to go off.
Walking slowly out of the kitchen through the hallway to the living room, I can smell piss and vomit; sweating bodies; the strong fear-sweat of arm pits; loose cunt, and the musky smell of freshly fucked rectums. The bedrooms off the hallway have people inside, fucking, sucking, and one I see; fisting. I hear someone gagging then the spattering of vomit …
In one of the dimly lit bedrooms I discover that my friend Karina is the source of the sounds and smells of vomit. She, like me, is pregnant but has hid it from friends and family by gaining a lot of weight. She is on her knees being throat fucked by a man, gagging and heaving on his cock, her puke spattering the floor between his feet. She’s not fighting it. I see others in the room, hiding in the shadows, fucking, sucking, and some masturbating as they watch Karina.
As the man releases her and she gasps for air our eyes meet - eyes that are now dull and devoid of the sparkle I once knew. I force a smile but it is not returned; her face remains expressionless. She is too far-gone, too immersed in this perversity. The happy girl I knew is gone - this girl has no hope - she has surrendered to the dark soul of Legend House.
We met at the free clinic months ago and quickly became friends - talking about being pregnant. Just three days ago Karina and I secretly shared our desires and fears about coming here tonight. Karina laughed nervously about her trepidation, unsure if she was ready for something this intense. Dying wasn’t on her agenda she said, but the wild sex was tempting.
Between gags and heaves, Karina moans - the sound of an animal in pain. I know she’s going to let someone kill her tonight and that makes me sad, but by the look of her, Karina’s already gone.
“Is it too rough?” the man asks her.
“No.” she looks back up at the man, “Force me.” then gags as the man slides his cock deep down her throat. I watch her large belly quiver as she gags and heaves.
Turning away toward the living room, I hear, then see the Bellinger sisters and their mom laying side by side on a filthy mattress covered with a sheet soaked with piss and cum. A crowd of boys and men are gathered around, three fucking them and five others masturbating over their faces. I am sort of surprised that their mom is here, but I’ve heard that she is a bit of a slut - I just didn’t know she was this kinky.
While I slowly enter the room and unbutton my winter coat, I watch Kellie Bellinger have three orgasms in a row as an older guy fucks her hard. Mom is being fucked as well and looks like she’s slowly building to orgasm. Older sister Kate is grunting as Phillip from school is fucking her ass. With their faces covered in cum it’s hard to believe Kellie and Kate are both cheerleaders and life-long members of 4H and mom is the prim and proper chair of the dry-grad committee.
“Join us, Becky.” mom says to me, her voice oily with lust.
“Maybe later.” I lie and smile.
Looking around the room I see a lot of older guys - some in their thirties and forties. I thought that this was going to be just kids from high school, but I guess it went kind of viral - viral for a small town that is.
“I gotta get you girls downstairs with me.” growls an older guy as he slams himself hard into Kelly.
“You will.” mom assures him, “We’re all going downstairs tonight, aren’t we girls?”
“Yes momma.” Kate strains as she takes Phillip’s cock deeper into her rectum. Kelly just moans - she looks so far gone I’m sure she’ll be easy to get downstairs. I think all three have taken ecstasy - they’re horny and sweaty.
Downstairs is where death lives - it’s where the sexual nightmares that Legend House spawns are becoming real tonight. By going downstairs to where the original girls died, we indicate our willingness to be murdered tonight - but it’s not really murder; more like assisted sexual suicide. The boys (and older men I guess) are on their honour to make the girls’ deaths sexually pleasurable in some way. Simple brutality is frowned on, unless that’s what a girl wants.
In a shadowy corner of the living room, I see an older guy that I don’t know brutally finger-fucking Megan. They’re both standing and he is working her cunt so hard Megan’s flabby belly is jiggling.
Megan is our high school oddball - she lives with her drunken dad in a trailer park, and she’s so desperate for love and attention she’ll fuck anyone. She cries a lot because the boys only fuck her then make fun of her after.
I see Megan’s legs are shaking and starting to give out. She hangs her head and sags against the older man, moaning and pissing herself as she cums, fluids splashing from where his hand pumps her loose crotch violently. After her orgasm, he keeps going at her as she supports herself against him, grunting toward her next climax.
“Feeling good, Megan?” I ask her and smile. I felt sorry for Megan all through high school, and always try to be kind to her.
Megan looks up, her mouth hanging open as she gasps for air. It takes her a moment to come out of the sexual fog she’s in, but at last she recognizes me.
“… so good, Becky …” her voice is weak and tremulous - I guess she is close to another orgasm.
“Are you going downstairs?” I ask.
“… for sure … are you?” her voice is breathless.
“I don’t know yet.” I answer.
I’m torn about whether to go or not. The invitation said; “If you go downstairs and change your mind, you might not be able to get back out. So be SURE before you descend.”
“… I want it … so BAD!” Megan grunts and her last word turns into a long straining groan as she cums again.
Behind me I hear Kate blissing out from her ass-fucking, so I turn to watch her. As I listen to Kate getting closer and closer to an orgasm, the cries of another girl are echoing up the stairs from the basement. I don’t know what they’re doing to her, but it must be extremely violent and painful. She sounds terrified and to be experiencing intense pain from what they’re doing to her body. I pinpoint the moment she loses hope of surviving when she cries out “… oh no … oh no …”
The contrast of the two girls is making is making me quiver inside, and I wonder if hearing the other girl being tortured to death is arousing Kate as she cums. I admit it’s arousing me. As Kate gasps and winds down from her anal orgasm, the girl downstairs is winding down as well - her screams have given way to raw, guttural grunts that slowly lose force and volume.
This over-heated perverse sexuality and the weight in my own belly is hitting me hard. Yeah, I’m seven months pregnant now - don’t judge me, you don’t know the whole story.
I feel my crotch growing warm and my nipples are puckering inside my bra as I take in all the sexual energy around me. Seeing Kate’s red and glistening gaped asshole as she rolls on her stomach and starts throating a man I’ve never seen before makes me think about joining the Bellingers, just stripping down and crawling onto the mattress on my hands and knees and letting strangers take me anally as I tongue Kate’s rectum deep. I like anal. I do it a lot, and by the looks of Kate’s gape, so does she.
But would they want a pregnant girl? Would I want attention from the kind of guy that wants to fuck and abuse a pregnant girl - a guy like the one throat fucking Karina? Why not just go downstairs? My life has turned to shit these last few months anyway, and this isn’t the first time I’ve thought about dying. I’ve had suicidal thoughts often since I got pregnant, but I haven’t have the courage to do it myself. I would have thought the news I got from my last clinic visit would have provided enough motivation, but even that didn’t. It just made me feel sadder and more hopeless than I already was. At least watching people fuck and cum is lifting my spirits, and I have to admit, listening to that girl dying turned me on - not in a sadistic way, but wanting to feel what she felt. There’s a freedom to giving in and accepting death - no more worries, no more sadness - and to go out like all the girls have in this house have … well, let’s just say the thought is exciting.
The story about Legend House broke when I was 12. As details trickled out and the story was sewn together, I was at first horrified, then later aroused like so many kids in this shitty town. The stories of how each girl died was the fodder for many nights of masturbatory fantasies for a lot of us. Plus the thrill of knowing the boys who did it were still walking around town made my jeans wet every time I walked through the park and saw the gang of older boys always being watched by the police.
I feel male arms slowly slide around me and two strong hands cradle my belly through my sweater. Warm breath tickles my left ear.
I turn my head and look over my shoulder to see who this gentle man is. I smile.
“Hi Zee.” I greet him softly. Zee is a friend - once a friend with benefits and one of the organizers of the anniversary - he’s part of the reason I came tonight. I go back to watching the Bellingers as he presses his body against mine, and holds me as he gently sways back and forth like we’re slow dancing.
“You're keeping it?” Zee whispers as he strokes my belly through my overcoat.
“It's complicated.” I answer quietly, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“Okay.” I hear him chuckle quietly, “We have ways of releasing the weight in that heavy belly if you’re interested.”
“Would I survive?”
We both laugh lightly. Kelly and Kate’s mom is now on all fours being fist fucked by one of the men and enjoying every second of it - she looks like she’s building to another orgasm. In the corner, Megan is on her knees, throating her man’s cock as mucus continues to drip from her well-used cunt.
“Been downstairs?” Zee asks.
“No.” I say, then admit; “I’m not sure if I’m ready for that.”
Zee cups the under side of my bloated belly and lifts and the change in pressure inside me takes my breath away and makes my legs tremble - how does he know just what to do?
“‘Not sure’ means it’s a possibility?” Zee whispers in my ear as he goes back to massaging my belly, and the feeling of him moving the weight I carry and the pressure it’s putting on my internal organs is really arousing me. Sick fantasies of other ways he could move my insides flitter through my mind on dark wings of perversity. Legend House is working its way inside my head.
“Anything is possible.” I answer breathlessly.
“Why not come down and have a look around?” Zee suggests, “I’ll tell people you’re mine - they’ll leave you alone.”
“I don’t know.”
“Ever watch someone die in sexual bliss?” Zee’s lips are close to my ear, “Watching their eyes get that far-away stare during that last long orgasm as their life fades? It’s trippy and very arousing.”
“And you know that because … ?”
Zee kisses my ear and whispers; “I gutted Laura.”
My legs almost give out as panic flashes through my mind; I believe him and knowing that, I doubt I will live through the night. I know his secret now - can he even let me live? Shiver-bumps dance across my skin from the backs of my thighs, over my bum and belly and up to my breasts as I realize that the thought I’m in the arms of a sexual killer excites me.
Another thought comes on the heels of the first … The autopsy report noted that Laura’s brain was flooded with endorphins, her vagina and uterus were engorged with what little blood she had left after her belly was opened from mound to sternum. We always wondered …
“Is it true?” I whisper to him, “Did Laura die cumming?”
“Yes. She came a lot.” Zee whispers in my ear, “She squirmed and quivered her way through the pain and the ecstasy as the blade sawed in and out of her belly. She died like a champ.”
Zee cups my belly and lifts again and I close my eyes and moan. In this moment I want it. Yes, that’s right - I want what Laura got. God knows I masturbated to enough orgasms pretending I was her, pressing the end of my metal school ruler all the way up my belly.
“Becky?” - it’s Megan - “I’m going downstairs now. Do you want to come?”
Zee eases me back down, continuing to hold me. It takes a moment for me to focus and catch my breath. Megan is studying my face, curious, wondering.
“Yes, Megan. Let’s go downstairs with Zee.” I say at last.
I follow Megan down the narrow basement staircase, Zee supporting me as I walk on wobbly legs. It’s not as hot as upstairs, but certainly not cool. There’s more sound down here as well - more people doing more intense things. I can’t count how many girls there are, but there seems to be three girls to every boy. It’s crowded and reeks of sex, puke, blood, and piss.
I can hear girls moaning, one shrieks, another vomits violently and in between each heave she begs; “… don’t stop … oh god, don’t stop …”.
As soon as we get to the bottom of the steps, I see a boy from school lying on his back as Stacey - a girl I know from volleyball last year - sucks his cock. The boy is strangling Stacey’s older sister (Lori?) with a pale pink plastic belt. The sister isn’t fighting it - she’s pinching her own nipples as her tongue protrudes from the pressure on her gullet. Her lower belly is slowly clenching and releasing as though she’s cumming and thick mucus oozes from her cunt with each pulse.
Watching her sends shiver-bumps over my entire body despite me still wearing my winter coat - this girl is willingly being strangled for the sexual experience. She graduated two years ago and went away to college but came back for tonight. As I watch, her belly heaves and she gurgles like she’s trying to throw up, but her throat is completely constricted. Her eyes stare at nothing and after a moment her thighs flop open wider. Piss flows from her crotch and as she twitches, her hands curl against her chest. Soon she slumps limp.
“Oh my god.” I whisper.
“Erotic, isn’t it?” Zee asks softly, his arm around my shoulders.
“There’s couple other girls I want you to see.” Zee says and takes my hand, leading me through the crowded basement. As we walk away, Stacey grabs the pink plastic belt and wraps it around her own throat while she impales herself on the boy’s cock.
“My turn.” she says, her voice betraying her excitement.
I see another older guy with a fat beer belly and grey beard snuggled up on an old armchair with a girl on his lap. She’s dressed only in her black bra and panties - his hand is inside them. He’s whispering in her ear and at first all I can hear is her soft responses;
“Yes … but I’m ready … I know I’m ready.”
But as we pass closer I hear him as well;
“It’s going to hurt done like that.” he warns her in his soft, deep voice as he fingers her cunt under the lacey fabric, “More than you’ve ever imagined.”
“I know.” she says, laying her head down on his shoulder and panting as her stomach clenches in orgasm.
There’s something familiar about him; I recall seeing him at school concerts - someone’s dad I think.
She comes down from her orgasm and lifts her face to gaze at him.
“Do more.” she says.
The next girl Zee takes me to watch is Kirstin. Kirstin and I share a few classes, and she totally rocks Art - her artwork is always dark and beautiful, so it makes sense she is here. She is standing by an old couch, naked from the waist down except for her white sneakers, and is wearing a green top. I see she’s stroking herself. I look around and see most of the girls are still wearing their shoes and by all the debris on floor I can see why.
On the couch in front of us, is a younger girl laying face down, slowly humping the couch with her mound. Under her belly is a mess of blood and tissue. There is fresh watery puke under her face. Kirstin is watching, waiting for the girl to die - waiting for her own turn on the couch.
“She’s the girl you heard from upstairs.” Zee tells me.
A boy named Brian has a white handled butcher knife in his hand that is still dripping humping girl’s blood as he sits on the arm of the sofa. He’s waiting too.
Humping girl’s movements become erratic and she makes weak mewling sounds. When she lets go and slumps limp I hear her softly farting. Brian rises and rolls her body off the sofa to splat on the floor - her belly is a mutilated mess. Kirstin quickly takes her place, lying on her back in the blood and gore and watery puke.
“You ready for this?” Brian asks her.
“Fuck yeah.” Kirstin says with enthusiasm, sounding excited and nervous, "I've been ready sinceI got here." She lifts her knees and opens her thighs that are glistening with moisture. Brian sits between her open thighs.
Brian rises up and leans forward and pushes the knife deep into her belly, right through her belly button. Kirstin grimaces, strains and grunts as the blade sinks into her.
“… okay! … okay!” Kirstin’s voice is tight as she comes to grips with the penetration. Brian lets go of the knife handle and sits back on his heels.
Kirstin looks down at the knife handle sticking out of her, then lifts her head to see it better. Conflicting emotions flash across her face; horror; pain; delight and wonder. A smile flickers across her face - satisfaction I suppose from finally acting on what had to be a long held fantasy - another Laura fan. Stroking her nipples through her top, Kirstin undulates as she rests with the feeling of a knife so deep in her belly.
“Okay.” she gasps, then calls out to the room; "I'm going, boys and girls!"
"Bye Kirstin!" someone calls back.
Smiling up at Brian she pushes her belly out to make it larger, “Do it. Go for it.”
Brian grasps the hilt of the knife and pulls it part way out. He pushes it back in slowly at a different angle. Kirstin strains and cries out. I can see that her cunt and asshole are gaping and clenching in rhythm.
“Harder!” Kirstin cries out in a straining voice, “Really give ‘er!”
For the next few moments, Brian purposefully plunges the blade in and out of Kirstin’s long belly, stabbing her over and over. Kirstin shrieks, grunts, makes raw animal sounds as she endures her evisceration, at times writhing and squirming, at other times pinching her erect nipples savagely through her top. Kirstin lasts a long time before she starts gasping for air and losing energy from blood loss.
As Kirstin’s voice turns to whimpers and weak grunts, Brian pushes the blade high up on Kirstin’s belly. She gags and heaves then pukes up a gush of bright blood. After he pulls the knife back out she grows still - like a toy winding down. Kirstin is staring up at the rafters above her, her body twitching and trembling - her bloody lips moving silently like she’s trying to say something.
Kirstin is still alive a moment later when she arches her back and grimaces from Brian pushing the knife under her left breast deep into her chest. He gives her that mercy and her eyes dull quickly as her body slumps.
“I’d love for someone to do that to me.” - it’s Megan, standing beside me, watching Kirstin’s body leak blood and piss.
Zee is holding my hand and pulls, trying to draw me further into the cellar. My eyes are locked in the gravity of Kirstin’s ruined body - she was alive and a real person only moments ago. Now she is just dead, her body now something that will be autopsied then cremated or buried. No more art. No more orgasms.
I remember from physics; “A body at rest tends to stay at rest” and I resist until Zee pulls me away from staring at Kirstin’s corpse. But at last my feet respond and I am led away.
“Shelly is waiting for me.” Zee explains as he pulls me past a short pony wall that divides one end of the cellar. Past the wall are three girls who are sitting on the floor, boys and men gathered to watch what is about to happen. I recognize Shelly - a girl two grades behind me in school, and her two friends that I’ve seen in the hallways.
“Took you long enough.” Shelly says. Shelly is a tomboyish skinny girl that rumour has it is a lesbian. She is sitting naked and cross-legged on the filthy floor beside one of those saddle looking sex machines - Sybians, I think they’re called - with a fat, ribbed, pink dildo sticking out the top. The machine is hooked up to four car batteries.
Shelly’s two friends are still fully clothed and are stroking her body and small breasts.
Zee kneels on the floor and takes a leather pouch from his jacket pocket and unzips it. Inside is a hypodermic syringe and some cartridge tubes of milky fluid. As Zee loads one of the cartridges into the syringe, Shelly scoots her bum forward and leans back, arching her back and pushing her belly out. Zee makes a series of injections across her lower belly from hipbone to hipbone halfway between her belly button and bare mound.
“Fuck, that’s hot.” says her friend in the blue hoodie, watching with a look of unbridled sexual hunger.
When Zee finishes, he puts the syringe back in the pouch, zips it and stuffs it back into his jacket pocket.
“Let’s get you up on the Sybian.” Zee tells Shelly.
As her friends help her settle onto the Sybian, impaling herself on the pink dildo, I sit down beside Zee cross-legged.
“What is that?” I ask, motioning to his pocket with the syringe kit with my chin.
“Freezing. Arnie’s dad is a dentist.” Zee says, picking up the controls for the Sybian, “We got the Sybian from Breanne’s dad. Him and I modified it for DC current and added the blade.”
I see the blade connected to the front of the machine, attached on the base at the front. It is just a long wide blade with the handle cut off connected to a pivot.
I realize now who the older fat guy with the beard who was whispering with the girl on his lap is Breanne’s dad. Breanne’s a weird chick; she never dates or comes to parties or dances. There’s a lot of gossip about her being into some kinky shit with her dad, and I heard her dad is trying to buy Legend House from the town.
Zee turns on the machine and it starts to hum. Shelly gasps, then moans.
“Oh fuck.” Shelly shudders, “That is fucking amazing.”
Zee turns up the vibrations and the rotation speed of the dildo that is humming away inside Shelly’s cunt. The girl in the blue hoodie stands up behind her and reaches around and pinches Shelly’s nipples.
“You go girl!” Blue Hoodie Girl says, laughing.
“How’s your belly feeling?” Zee asks.
“Numb as fuck, Zee.” Shelly gasps.
“Okay, when you start to cum, just lean forward.” Zee tells her, “And get your hands out of the way.”
Shelly rides the Sybian for a long time, gasping and moaning breathlessly. I look up and I see a crowd has gathered, attracted by the loud humming of the sex machine and Shelly’s shrill little cries. Breanne’s dad is standing behind me watching intently, the girl he is with pressing her body against him, his large arm holding her close - both afraid of losing each other.
“… oh god … oh god … I’m gunna cum!” Shelly gasps and slides her hands off the front of the machine’s saddle onto the floor, leaning forward. Zee hits a button and the blade blurs up and across on its pivot - a silver shimmer that slices through Shelly’s lower belly like a hot knife through butter.
Shelly grunts and rises back up, she is straining as her hands scramble until she grips the front edge of the saddle. She looks scared.
The slit is a thin line of blood across her lower belly, and I can see that her stomach muscles are clenched tight, holding it closed.
“… oh god, Zee! … oh god!” Shelly cries out weakly as her friend goes back to pinching her nipples.
“Just let go, Shelly.” Zee urges her in a gentle voice, “I know it feels strange and you’re scared, but it’s going to be alright.”
Shelly shudders and her stomach muscles relax, and that’s when the thin line of blood becomes a slit that opens and her insides slither out of her and over her trembling hands.
Shelly is alternatively making grunting and gasping sounds as she quivers and weaves, struggling to balance herself on the saddle. Blue Hoodie Girl helps her stay upright as she continues to pinch and work Shelly’s nipples. I can see Shelly’s bum clenching and releasing and her toes curling.
“My god, she hasn’t stopped cumming!” says Blue Hoodie Girl, the excitement obvious in her voice. It’s true - Shelly looks like she’s experiencing a constant rolling orgasm. Another clot of intestines and something heavy and bloated slumps out of Shelly’s open belly. Shelly gags and heaves in response, her body curling in a humping motion. Even though it’s thrilling to watch this girl cumming as death approaches, I am sad, knowing her bliss can’t last forever. For her it may feel like eternity, but her eternity is going to only be a few dozen more seconds. I lay my hand on Zee’s arm as Shelly start to die.
Shelly’s grunting is changing to weak sexual whines and her trembling is increasing. Shock is setting in as the colour drains from her face and body, changing from a healthy pink to pasty white with faint shades of grey. Her lips turn blue as her trembling degrades into spasms while she struggles to hold on to the front of the saddle.
“Good girl.” Zee coos, smiling as he watches her face while her head lolls from side to side - she’s fading fast.
Shelly’s hands slip off the front of the saddle and she starts to slump to the side, but Blue Hoodie Girl holds her up. Shelly’s arms hang limp and her head flops back against her friend’s shoulder.
“… doesn’t hurt … doesn’t hurt …” she slurs her final words then convulses with a short, weak seizure. Zee turns the Sybian off.
“That worked perfectly.” Breanne’s Dad says to Zee as he leads his girl away.
As Shelly’s friends pull her limp body off the Sybian, Zee turns to face me.
“Well?” Zee asks as he snakes a hand down past my belly to slither under my stretch jeans and panties to cup my crotch. I’m wet. I know I’m wet. Fuck, I’m sopping and I’m ashamed that watching girls die has aroused me so much.
“You like it.” Zee teases me.
“Have you made up your mind?”
I smile and push my hair out of my eyes and shake my head.
“You know what I’ve always wanted to try with you?” Zee says softly, getting that romantic look in his eyes as he curls his fingers inside me.
“The bottle?” I say, then feel my face flush. I punch him in the arm and laugh, pulling his hand out of my pants, “Not the bottle!”
“Why not?” Zee asks and pats his jacket pocket, “I’ve got lots of freezing.”
I gaze into his eyes and memories of all the good times - the exciting times - come back to me. Memories of those brief, early teenage years of sexual adventures before I got pregnant and before all the other shit that came with it.
I am distracted by the Blue Hoodie Girl’s squeal; Two older boys are pulling off her jeans, panties, and hoodie.
“Stop! Don’t!” she cries out, but she’s giggling as she is left with nothing on but her sneakers.
“You’re downstairs, baby.” one of the boys says as he and his friend get her to her feet and drag her toward a mattress.
“I know, but I haven’t cum yet.” she giggles.
“Oh, you’ll cum.” the other boy says as he picks up a length old steel pipe with an elbow bend at one end.
Blue Hoodie Girl looks at it and says; “Holy fuck.” then looks over her shoulder at her other friend, “Bye Sarah!”
“Well?” Zee asks. I can’t resist those eyes, and I know he is an amazing lover.
“Okay.” I answer, “But take me back upstairs to do it.”
“Of course.” Zee smiles and helps me to my feet.
As we climb the stairs I can hear Blue Hoodie Girl grunting and making wet guttural noises as the two guys start working on her.
Upstairs the orgy is going strong; Kate Bellinger has been introduced to fist fucking and sister Kellie to anal. Megan is back upstairs, masturbating as she watches a girl being doubled on the floor.
“Change your mind, Megan?” I ask as we pass her.
“No.” Megan whines, “Nobody wants me.”
“The night is young!” Zee calls over his shoulder as he leads me down the hall.
“Can I come watch you guys?” Megan calls out.
“Of course.” Zee laughs.
“Thanks.” I say, sarcasm dripping from my voice.
But it turns out that Megan won’t be the only one watching what Zee is about to do to me; he leads me into the bedroom that Karina is in. It is still kind of crowded, people in the corners making out while Karina sits in a chair, going at herself with a thick vibrator - she still seems to be the main attraction in here.
Zee helps me undress and it’s not as embarrassing as I thought it was going to be - almost everybody is naked and nobody stares at my swollen belly.
“All fours.” Zee tells me and I climb onto the mattress. There are a lot of wet spots and it reeks of cum, cunt, and puke, but suddenly I don’t care. I settle in bum up and lay the side of my face on a dry spot and breathe in the odours of sex. There’s a wet spot right in front of my face; it smells strongly of pussy, and is slimy with some guy’s cum that leaked out of it.
I feel Zee part the cheeks of my bum.
“Deep breath.” he tells me, “Only the first few hurt.”
Then I feel the sharp bite of the needle sinking into my sphincter muscle.
“Fuck!” I gasp and squirm as I feel the pressure of the freezing being injected. Then another bite moving around my anus.
“Were you a good girl?” Zee asks, “Did you follow the instructions?”
I’m puzzled at first, then I remember.
“Yes.” I say and I feel like a child reporting that I did my chores, “Thirty Sennatabs. I was up shitting all night.”
“Then youre a good girl”
He’s makes two more injections while we talk and continues, but the bite is gone - now I feel only pressure. I turn my head and watch Karina.
She has her back arched and her head thrown back over the back of the chair as she works her cunt furiously, her fat belly undulating. The man who was fingering Megan is standing over her, and as I watch, he wraps his hands around her throat and tightens. Karina doesn’t fight him, she keeps fucking herself with the thick vibrator making choking sounds. Zee pats my bum to let me know he’s finished so I lay down on my side to watch Karina. The cummy wet spot is right in front of my face - I resettle myself and lay my cheek in it, resting in the cool slime.
The guy strangling her isn’t letting up, but he is strangling her slowly - allowing her just enough air to prolong her dying. Karina just keeps working herself savagely with her vibrator.
“They’re breaking the rules.” I say softly to Zee, knowing Karina is going to die soon.
“Yeah.” Zee answers back as he coats his hand with some lube, “I figured that would happen.”
“So none of us are safe.” I say, feeling pressure but no pain in my anus as Zee starts to loosen me with his fingers.
“It's Legend House, Becks. You could try to sneak out, but your best bet is to pick how you want to go out so no one chooses for you.” he speaks softly in a matter-of-fact way, “We both know why you came here, sweetheart.”
What Zee is doing is arousing me fast. I feel more and more pressure there.
Karina’s body is moving with more force as she fucks herself, humping her vibrator in erratic spasms. I understand; she wants to die cumming.
I am momentarily distracted as I feel Zee’s entire hand slide inside me to the wrist. I cry out - not because it hurts, but because the thick foreign invasion into my body is strange and wonderful. Zee begins to fist fuck my rectum as I watch Kirstin’s life winding down in ecstatic bliss. She’s cumming as she makes horrible, desperate choking sounds. Her back arches hard and her orgasmic energy is making her tremble badly, her large belly and breasts jiggling. It’s too much for me - I’m overwhelmed by my rapidly rising arousal; the tingles tickling my thighs, bum, and belly, and the desperate throb in my sex.
I roll onto my stomach and lift my bum. I feel Zee’s hand slide out of me, leaving me feeling hollow.
“You want it, baby?” Zee asks in that sexy voice.
“Yes.” I say breathlessly, pushing my face into the wet slimy puddle on the sheet, letting it touch my lips, licking it, tasting cunt and cum.
“Ruin me.” I gasp.
“Sounds like you’re ready for downstairs.” Zee says as I feel him moving on the filthy old mattress, getting ready.
I whimper, giving in and admitting to myself why I really came here tonight, “After.”
“Oh, Becky. Can you take that?” - it’s Megan again, watching me.
I look over my shoulder and see Zee coating the fat end of a wine bottle with lube.
“I want to try.” I answer her. I feel Zee part my bum cheeks and press the end of the bottle against my loose, numb anus as I listen to my friend be strangled to death.
Legend House is in my head now, and my sexual nightmare is just beginning …