Just then, Charles calls for everyone’s attention.
“Next we have a special offering from our friend Hannah. Breanne went to kindergarten with Hannah, and they’ve been friends off and on since then. Tonight is special for Hannah because it’s her 18th birthday.”
We hear the audience call out birthday wishes for Hannah, then the clock chimes 11 o’clock. Maizie and I quickly finish our fruit and head into the main playroom wet area.
Hannah is sitting cross-legged on the floor facing all of us, holding a brutal looking hunting knife in her right hand. She looks up at Charles who nods. Hannah looks down and slowly presses the knife inward just below her belly button. We watch it dimple her flat belly as she presses it deeper and deeper, the shadow around the bright blade growing as the tip is slowly lost in the fold of her skin. Hannah jerks and gasps as the tip breaks through the tension of her skin and we watch as the dimple slides up the sides of the blade and the shadow disappears. Still moving slow, she pulls it into herself, the blade now sliding through her oblique muscles. Hannah is trembling as she slowly impales her belly, more and more of the knife sinking into her.
“Oh boy.” Maize whispers, “This isn’t going to end well for her.”
I look at Maize, unsure of what she means. Maizie leans close and whispers in my ear;
“It’s not sexual for her. She’s just killing herself.”
I look around the room for Breanne, expecting her to be present for her friend’s performance, then I remember that Breanne doesn’t like the bloodier methods. I wonder if she will show up for mine. I hope she does - Maizie will already be gone by then and I hope to have one friendly face in the crowd.
Hannah grunts and gasps, “Ungh. It’s going in. It’s really going in.”
She uncrosses her legs and leans back as she pulls all of the blade into her belly with one hand as she steadies herself with the other.
“... eww, fuck ... oh god ...” she gasps, “... I did it ...” “... I killed myself for you ...”
Hannah leans forward, grasping the blade with both hands and starts moving it around inside her.
“I’m not bleeding as much as I thought I would.”
We can hear the blade wetly cutting inside her, little bursts of gas from her severed bowels making the line of blood around her wound bubble. Hannah begins shaking badly.
“... I can feel it ... gushing ... pulsing inside ...” she struggles to keep her voice calm and modulated, but we can see she’s in pain. She obviously didn’t take one of Zee’s molly-plus drugs.
“... it really hurts now ... damn ...” even with the pain she keeps working the blade inside her belly. Hannah leans back until she is flat on her back, her legs spread wide. Her toes curling.
“I just wanna die ...” she gasps and quivers, speaking becoming more difficult for her, “... so I don’t hurt this much ...”
She works the blade inside her, sweeping it back and forth through her guts. She grunts and gasps and pisses herself.
“... oh sorry ...” she gasps, then changes the angle of the knife, pulling it deeper, upward into her belly.
“... I’m just ...” she tries to tell us what she is doing, but it hurts too much. Hannah cries out in pain, moaning, gasping, grunting as she struggles to pull the blade deeper into herself, under her breastbone. She wants to end it.
The blade punctures something tender inside her, or maybe she is feeling herself starting to die because panic sets in and she cries out loudly and starts making gasping, desperate sounds. But they fade quickly and she quiets. It’s like she hit the right spot and she is dying now and feeling the relief of her body numbing.
In the end, Hannah stares up at nothing and dies peacefully.
“Fuck” Maizie whispers under her breath.
“I guess Zee’s molly-plus is a good idea.” I say softly to Maizie.
“Damn right.” she says.
We walk out of the wet area together and as we pass between two men, they each stroke our bums. It startles me, but Maizie smiles.
“You girls want to play before it’s your turn?” one man asks. Maizie looks at me and I shake my head.
“Is it okay if I do?” she asks me. I feel awkward and that no-one-asked-me-to-dance feeling from junior prom comes back - I hoped to have Maizie as a companion until her turn, but I can’t begrudge her some final pleasures.
“Yeah. Go ahead.” I say and start to move off.
“You guys into throat-fucking?” I hear Maizie ask them as I walk away, “I need to relax my throat and I’m saving my final fuck for someone special.”
”So a internal throat massage?” one guy says.
”Yeah.” Maizie says brightly, then giggling.
I gravitate toward the bar area that has somehow become a refuge for me.
I saw a therapist for a time after my parents noticed me going strange after my experience at 13. Even though she assured me that everything I said would remain confidential, I never told her about my sexual death fantasies. But we did talk about sexual arousal and the usual adolescent sexual things I did alone and with boys and she pointed out that I displayed pendulating behaviour; I would allow myself to indulge sexually, but when things got too intense I would pull back to safety then repeat the pattern later on. She said I was like a pendulum, swinging in and out of potential pleasure.
I guess that’s what I’m doing now, indulging in being part of sexual death, then pulling back to the safety of the bar.
My therapist asked me if I knew why I did that. Why I would move back instead of letting myself surrender to it. I lied to her and told her I didn’t know why, because the truth would reveal too much about me; If I let myself surrender to ecstasy, I would beg to be murdered during my sexual frenzy. She pushed me though until I hinted at the truth; “I’m afraid I’d go crazy if I let myself be pushed past my limits.”
As I walk toward the bar I see Breanne coming down the stairs at last. I run to her and wrap my arms around her naked body, our breasts squishing together.
“I missed you.” I say, then pull back, looking into her smiling face. I see the red marks and bruising around her throat and her left eye has a large blood clot covering half the white.
“Oh! Your eye.” I say, gently touching her cheek, feeling a rush of empathy and a desire to care for her.
“It happens sometimes during asphyx orgasms.” she explains, “Inside my brain sometimes too. I get really confused for a couple days after intense ones.”
“Sounds ...” I realize I don’t know what to say.
“It’s okay, Allie.” she says, looping her arm in mine and walking us to the bar, “Dad says one day it’s going to be a big stroke. He promises that when that happens he’ll help me do it for real.” Breanne laughs, “He says he’ll throw a party so I go out in style.”
We park our naked bums on two barstools. Zee turns toward us.
“Another cooler.” I ask him.
“You doing the molly-plus later?” Breanne asks me. I think of Hannah going into it without it.
“I’m pretty sure.” I say, looking at Zee, “It seems best.”
“It is.” Zee assures me.
“Then give her a vodka and cranberry.” Breanne tells Zee, “Me too.”
“I thought drinking with molly is bad idea.” I say.
“It is normally, but tonight ...” Zee shrugs.
“It intensifies it.” Breanne explains, “It’ll make you so fucking horny a breeze will make you cum. And you’ll be in a perfect headspace for tonight; overwhelmed, not thinking straight, out of control, and no fear.”
Zee sets our drinks down.
“Well.” I say picking up my drink and tinking Breanne’s; “Here’s to out-of-control and no fear.”
We drink. It tastes good and I feel the warmth spread across my belly.
“I heard Hannah.” Breanne says, looking down into her drink, “Was it bad?”
“She said it hurt her.” I say, trying not to upset her, “But in the end she quieted and went peaceful.”
“That’s good.” Breanne says.
“I tried to convince her about the molly-plus.” Zee tells us.
“No.” Breanne shakes her head, “Hannah wanted it to hurt. It wasn’t sexual for her - it was ... punishment.”
As we’ve been chatting, I hear a girl gagging and heaving from the far end of the room. I look and see that it’s Maizie - on her knees being throat-fucked. There’s a small puddle of foamy spit and chewed up fruit salad between her open thighs. She’s surrounded by five men and it looks like they all want a turn.
“Your sister’s having fun.” Breanne says.
“Yeah, tonight’s her night. I told her to indulge.” Zee smiles as he polishes a wine glass.
Will I be able to indulge? Will I be able to shed my inhibitions and let go like Maizie - to not care who’s watching me?
I envy her.
“So,” Breanne says, “I came down to watch Rhea. Maybe fluff her a bit first.”
“She got her dose about half an hour ago.” Zee tells her, “She’s got a vibrator and is fluffing herself in the wet area.”
Breanne turns to me;
“Rhea is a choke-slut like me.” she explains, “But her thing is to fight it. That’s what turns her on; feeling forced. So don’t freak out when she starts struggling.”
I blush and look down, feeling my cheeks flush; “I won’t.” I say in a sulky voice. Do they think I’m a delicate little flower?
“Allie is cool. She’s into it.” Zee says, patting my hand and giving me his borderline creeper smile. I know I’m wrong to judge, but once upon a time he was a pedophile with his sister. I know she wanted it, but still ...
We finish our drinks and get refills. I’m starting to feel mine; warm in my legs, a tendency to smile too much, and an unwillingness to keep my belly tight and flat like a good little girl. I relax and feel my lower belly slump - I like the feeling. My lower belly plumps up when I’m horny, and I’m very horny right now. Letting it bulge naturally makes me feel sexy. The fuck with what other people think.
“You’re enjoying yourself.” Breanne smiles at me.
“Yup.” I agree and giggle.
“I’m going to fix you up just before your turn.” Breanne promises, “Ever been fist-fucked?”
“You’re going to be.” Breanne knocks back her drink and rises, leaning close and kissing me lightly on the lips, “But right now I’m going to go get Rhea ready.”
Breanne walks into the playroom.
“Rhea’s a lucky girl.” Zee says, “Want another?”
“I should pace myself.” I say, shaking my head. I’m starting to feel hot and sweaty like I always do when I drink and I don’t want to be too far-gone when it’s my turn.
I finish my drink and walk toward the playroom, but take a detour to Maizie. She’s still on her knees, letting her throat be used like a pussy. Feeling the alcohol chipping at my inhibitions, I kneel down beside her, stroking her hair and her back. She is sweating, her body gone shiny with it, her armpits strong with skunky fear-sweat, she’s drooling spit and cum down her chin and making sweet gagging sounds with each thrust of the cock. I kiss her flushed cheek and whisper; “I love you, Maizie.”
I hear her throaty moan. I’m happy that she is enjoying herself, so close to the end.
Into the playroom I see the chubby girl on her back, laying on some kind of trunk. Breanne is working her pussy with a vibrator and flicking her clit with the tip of her tongue. As Charles moves toward them, Breanne looks up and her dad nods. Breanne stops tonguing Rhea’s clit and slowly pushes the vibrator deep into the chubby girl’s pussy - really deep, so much so that her fingers slide in to the second knuckle. Rhea moans and squirms on the trunk - I wonder how deep it went and feel a little quiver inside me as visions of vibrators sliding through cervixes flash through my mind.
The clock chimes the half-hour - it’s 11:30 pm and it’s Rhea’s time. I move with the gathering crowd and get closer to her than I have to the others as Charles introduces her;
“Here lies Rhea, a dear friend of mine and my daughter’s. She has chosen the garrote. Please do not be alarmed by what you’re about to witness, no one tonight is forced.” he says, and nods to a man standing behind her.
The man swiftly slips a thick cord around her throat and pulls it tight. Rhea immediately starts to struggle. As she squirms and kicks and jerks her body violently, choking and gagging, I see the end of the vibrator reappear.
Rhea fights frantically and I hear the man straining and saying that she’s a fighter, but Rhea doesn’t do the one thing strangling people do; she never tries to grab the cord to pull it from her throat. Her cubby body works violently and I can smell her sweat and her pussy, her plump belly, breasts, and thighs wobbling.
I can tell the man is going easy on Rhea to make it last longer for her and I realize that Charles has done his utmost to make sure the girls get what they are looking for. He cares about us and wants our last moments to be when our fantasies become reality. From letting Breanne entertain us with a near death orgasm, to waiting for Corrine’s hopeless whimper before he released the guillotine blade, to Ashley and Kelly’s intense orgasms as they hanged - Charles cares about his girls and is respectful of what we are willing to do here in his home. I feel a warmth spread inside me knowing that and knowing that I had chosen right when I asked him to be the one to do me.
I feel like I am part of a family.
“She’s almost out.” another man says softly.
Rhea isn’t fighting it now because she’s cumming, her hips humping erratically as she rolls from one orgasmic peak to the next - her flabby belly clenching and going flaccid with each cycle of physical bliss. We watch as Rhea orgasms her way into the abyss and slumps dead.
Breanne moves to the side of the trunk and bends down and kisses Rhea on the lips.
“Good girl.” she whispers.
As everyone moves away I see some couple up. They go off and find chairs or sofas or even a dark corner. Some move off on their own to seek an empty corner. Glancing into the wet area I see a couple fucking on the guillotine platform. Everyone is horny now. I’m horny now, more than before I masturbated. Watching sexual deaths every half hour is having an accumulative effect.
I see Maizie is at the bar talking to Zee as he wipes the cum and sick-up from her face with a damp bar towel. They are speaking softly, both smiling. Maizie says something and they both laugh softly. It’s a tender moment between siblings.
I think about doing what Maizie did, just giving blowjobs and hoping someone returns the favour and gets me off, but my face flushes just thinking about asking someone.
As I squeeze past three people talking I feel a hand stroke my bare bum. I look down and see an older man sitting in a chair - like me, he’s naked.
“Lovely bum.” he smiles up at me, “It looks like you’re in need of a spanking.”
A little tingling thrill sparkles up my core from my crotch. I’ve never been spanked sexually before. Here’s my chance - don’t blow it, Allie, don’t blow it!
“Would you? I think I do need one.” I say to him. He smiles and stands up and takes my hand.
“I think we should seek a little privacy.” he says and leads me toward the stairs. I’m relieved, that seemed so easy.
As we walk past the bathroom I see a woman masturbating on her own. She’s pulled down her pants, unbuttoned her sweater and is having a gut wrenching orgasm - she didn’t even bother closing the door she was so desperate to relieve her sexual tension.
He leads me to a dark alcove under the stairs - it has an armless chair and a shelf with sex toys and creams on it. He sits in the chair and pats his lap and I lay belly down. He firmly, but gently moves my arms behind my back and strokes my bum. I feel vulnerable and exposed, such a strange feeling. My head hangs down and all I can see is the shadowy hardwood floor. I feel him part my bum cheeks and examine me - I can feel the air of the room on my exposed crotch.
“What’s your name child?” he asks.
“Allie.” I whisper, trembling slightly - he could do anything to me in this position; hurt me any way he chooses.
“Allie, you may call me Sir.”
He smacks my bum. It stings.
“Are you one of the girls performing tonight, Allie?” he asks.
“Yes, Sir. At two o’clock, Sir.”
“With something long and sharp, Sir. Charles is going to do me.”
“He’s a good choice, Allie. Charles is a master. I’m sure he will make it perfect for you.”
“I trust him, Sir.”
“How do you think it will feel, Allie?”
“It will be intense, Sir. I know it’s going to make me sick-up, Sir.”
“Good. Good.” he says stroking my bum which feels warm now, “I’m going to give you your spanking now, Allie.”
“Thank you, Sir.” I whisper.
And it begins.
I learn immediately that the smacks he gave me were just foreplay. He spanks me with force now. The loud slaps on my bum are loud in the basement, but with each blow I hear a deep bass thud that echoes up my core, from my anus to my throat, each spank shocks my stomach and takes my breath away. The deep percussive impacts vibrate my pussy and the pleasure and pain blend together. I feel myself oozing as my pussy lips open like a blooming flower. My bum goes from warm to hot as he spanks me hard. I squeal and cry out from the violence being done to my bottom, but also from a growing hunger for orgasm.
He suddenly stops and I feel his fingers tracing the slick crease from my anus to my clit. He strokes there, up and down, stimulating my anus, pussy, and clit - up and down and up and down, over and over - all four fingertips running over my hungry crotch. I feel an orgasm building in my lower belly and open my thighs, wanting him to penetrate me.
“... I’m gunna cum ... sir ...” I whimper, my voice tremulous and weak. He stops stroking and begins to spank me again. This time it burns and he is unrelenting.
“You must ask permission to cum, Allie.”
And the spanking goes on and on, my bum feeling hotter and hotter. I squirm. I kick. I realize I’m being punished.
“I’m sorry, Sir!” I cry out, tears blurring my vision, “I won’t do it again, Sir!” He spanks me three more times then stops to stroke my bum.
“Is this your first time, Allie?”
“Y-yes ... Sir.” I sob.
“Then I give you permission to cum.”
He strokes my crease, his fingertips bumping over my clit, delving oh-so-slightly into my pussy opening and my anus. I feel it building fast, the pleasure a counterpoint to the pain of my burning bum cheeks. I feel completely within his power and I find I love the feeling - I surrender to him ... a complete surrender. I gasp as my orgasm begins ...
It’s an orgasm, but this one is different. My body is reacting differently than the way it usually does; instead of my pussy and anus growing tighter then clenching, gripping whatever is inside me, I feel both of my holes relax and open. My belly muscles grow tight, bearing down like when I poop or when women give birth and my pussy opens wide and I can feel my uterus shifting as though my body is trying to push it out of me. My anus too; I feel it gape and protrude and I’d be afraid of prolapsing my rectum if it didn’t feel so good.
It feels like my body is trying to push my guts out of me as I grunt and strain my way through this long, gut-wrenching orgasm.
“Are you cumming, Allie?” he asks calmly. My reply isn’t calm;
“I’M CUMMING, SIR!” I scream through clenched teeth, my thighs apart, my pelvis humping, and my stomach bulged and tight. He keeps stroking me, his magical fingertips keeping this physical insanity going until I come to believe I won’t survive any more of this.
Then at once, it’s over. It’s like a balloon reaching it’s maximum pressure and popping - I grunt loud and flop limp in his lap, my head hanging down, my thighs weak and quivering. I suddenly burst into tears, sobbing out so much pent up emotion. I can’t even describe what I’m feeling other than an intense emotional release.
“Shhhhhhh, it’s okay, Allie. Just let it out.” his hand lifts from my bum and I feel him reach for something on a shelf beside his chair, then I hear a click and a squishy sound.
His hand returns to my bum and I feel a sudden coolness. He strokes my bum lovingly, soothing my burning skin - his hand is now slick with a cream. It feels so good, and I begin to relax.
“... thank you, Sir ...” I whimper.
He waits until my breathing and heart rate return to normal then releases my arms and bids me to rise and sit on his lap. I start to feel vulnerable again. The act of sitting on an older man’s lap recalls trips to see Santa Claus - the master of all children, a bearded Top who rewards and punishes you when you’re small.
“Was it good, Allie?”
“Yes, Sir.” I answer truthfully, “I felt things I’ve never felt before, and my orgasm was different.”
“How was it different?”
“It was like it came from deep inside me. A huge swelling force that needed to get out but my flesh was in the way. It was like it came from my soul.” I look into his eyes, “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome, Allie.” as he strokes my skin lovingly, “My name is Allen. You can call me that now.”
“Hello, Allen.” I smile shyly at him. I realize something; I’m sitting on his lap, but he’s not hard.
“Can I make you feel good now?” I ask, wondering if he doesn’t find me attractive. He chuckles low in his chest.
“I fear my time for raging erections are long over. I haven’t been inside a woman in three years. I have E.D., Allie.” I feel for him, and after the pleasure he gave me I need to give something back.
“Can I try?” I ask, sliding off his lap to my knees.
“Of course you can try.” he says, smiling down at me.
I take his soft cock in my mouth and suck, moving my head up and down, elongating it with suction alone and letting my lips stroke its length. I reach up with my right hand and slide it under him, finding the swollen part just in front of his anus and massaging there firmly. His cock starts to swell in my mouth.
“Oh Allie.” he breathes as he strokes my hair.
I keep going and his cock swells more. It doesn’t become completely hard, but it is no longer soft either. I remember his words; ‘I haven’t been inside a woman in three years’. I want to change that. I suck him until he is breathing hard and his belly starts twitching, my lips tight to his cock as I travel from its swollen head to its base. As his breathing starts to become desperate, I reach up with my left hand and squeeze off the base of his cock, trapping the blood inside it to keep it erect.
Holding his cock tight, I rise - awkwardly, but in that moment I don’t care what I look like to others - and straddle his lap, guiding his cock into my still loose pussy. It is still so wet and oily he slides right in. I start clenching, milking his cock as I let go and place both my hands on his shoulders.
“Oh, Allie.” he whimpers and presses his face against my breasts, licking the sweat from them, sucking my nipples. I don’t ride him, because I can feel him softening inside me, instead I keep clenching on him in a rhythm.
“Your cock is the last one I’ll ever have inside me, Allen.” I whisper, my mouth close to his ear. I hear him gasp, “I want your cum inside me when I go. I want to feel it slippery and warm in my pussy, flooding my womb, seeking out my eggs.”
He is breathing harder as I milk his cock.
“Your cock ... my last cock ... your cum ... I’m fertile ... I’m ripe ... give it to me ... give it to me, Allen ...”
In a few seconds I hear him whimper and cry out and he holds me tight, squeezing my body against his, mashing his face against my chest, his pelvis curling, lifting me and holding tight. I feel the liquid pulse inside me as he cums. He shudders in waves until he is spent.
I feel his body slump under me.
“Oh, sweet jeezuz, Allie.” he gasps.
I curl forward as I hear the clock chime midnight. I kiss his face, his lips, his chest. He grips my shoulders and pushes me back, gazing up into my eyes.
“Thank you, Allie.” he says, and I see he’s on the edge of tears, “I’ll never forget you.”
“Jezuz Christ, I can’t take this.” I hear Breanne mutter under her breath as she walks past us and runs up the stairs. At first I think she’s talking about Allen and I, then I realize that midnight is Kathryn’s time and it must involve blood.
“You want to go watch.” he says.
“Don’t you?” I ask.
So we rise and walk together into the playroom and see everyone gathered in the wet area. We wind our way through the crowd and find a place to watch without obscuring anyone’s view.
Kathryn is still dressed. She is on her back on a table, squirming, moaning. Zee has one hand under her skirt and is masturbating her. In his other hand he holds a long sharp spike that he is pushing slowly into her lower belly, over and over. The front of her skirt is sticky with her blood.
Kathryn is just coming down off an orgasm, one of many considering the sex smell in the room.
Kathryn appears dreamy and sensual. At times she grips the edge of the table with her left hand, but her right is always clenched tight, anchored to a fistful of Zee’s shirt as though she’s afraid he’ll stop and leave her. Even though the pain of the long spike being pushed into her firm lower belly must be intense, it appears that it’s keeping her orbiting her final orgasm.
Zee pauses in his stabbing, but continues to finger her.
“You’re enjoying that, aren’t you?” Zee asks.
“... yes...” she gasps so softly we barely hear - the way a woman answers a lover.
“Hmm?” Zee keeps fingering her.
“... yes ...” she says louder.
“Feel good?” Zee asks, his hand making her skirt move.
“... yeah ...” she gasps and whimpers, opening her thighs wider.
Zee starts plunging the spike into her lower belly again, over and over, finding fresh places to penetrate. Kathryn is panting, whimpering, squirming gently on the tabletop. Zee pushes the spike in with more force, lower down, penetrating her g-spot, her uterus, and I swear; her ovaries.
“... oww ... ahh ...” Kathryn cries out, but she rolls toward Zee instead of away. The volume of her voice and writhing of her body are becoming more pronounced as he continues to stab her belly over and over.
“... ahh ... oh god ...”, her breathy cries are becoming more sexual, more frantic. I think she’s starting to cum again.
“Paingasm.” Allen whispers in my ear.
I look at him quizzically.
“You just had one, Allie.” he smiles, “An orgasm from pleasure/pain. Her’s is more intense.”
I smile and squeeze his hand.
Kathryn’s lower belly is swelling, so she is bleeding badly internally. Her cries and whimpers reach a crescendo and she arches her back. Zee stops stabbing her and concentrates on fingering her. Kathryn’s thighs close on his hand and she clenches, rolling on her side toward him, grasping at his shirt with both hands. She gasps and holds her breath as she quivers, then exhales and rolls onto her back, releasing her grip on Zee. Her breathing calms and she lies still while Zee continues to finger her. She is satiated, content. Now she’s just letting herself die.
Her breathing lessens in frequency and force. The room is quiet, reverent as she breathes her last, her body still, her eyes closed, a half smile on her lips. We watch Kathryn slip away with a sigh.
As Zee withdraws his fingers from under her skirt, I see they are covered in blood. That explains why Kathryn never stripped down to walk around naked with the rest of us; she was on her period.
Allen goes off to the buffet while I return to the bar. I help myself to another vodka and cranberry and drink half in one go. I suddenly have a case of the nerves - I’ve been watching the hands of the clock move relentlessly toward 2:00 am, and I hope alcohol will help.
Maizie walks up and nervously looks around the basement.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“Where’s Zee?” Maizie asks, her voice tight, her eyes wide. I realize she’s scared - she’s up in less than an hour.
Zee emerges from the playroom. He sees me and Maizie and as she moves toward him he holds up his hands.
“I’m here. I’m here.” he tells her.
“You have to do me.” she says frantically.
“I know, come behind the bar.” he says taking something from his pocket, “It’s all ready for you.”
She walks behind the bar.
“Face Allie.” Zee says, and as Maizie turns toward me, Zee crouches behind her, then; “Lean forward.”
Maizie leans against the bar and pushes her bum out. Zee does something and Maizie grimaces.
Zee stands up, tossing something in the trash, “There, you’re done.”
Maizie walks around the bar and sits on the stool beside me, “Rum and coke?” she asks Zee. He makes her drink strong and sets it in front of her. She is sitting ramrod straight, her body rigid with tension, the poor thing is scared.
“You should eat again.” I say to her.
“Can’t. My stomach is upset.” she says nervously. I lay a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m here for you, hon.” I reassure her, “I’ll stay with you until it’s time. Then you’ll have Zee.”
Maizie nods and finishes her drink in a series of swallows, setting the empty glass on the bar.
“Another?” she asks. Zee nods and mixes her another.
“Listen.” I say to her, “I know you don’t feel like it, but you don’t want an empty stomach. I’m going to get you another fruit salad and some juice. I’ll be right back.”
Maizie nods and stares at the wall. I can see her throat working as she tries to swallow. As they say; shit just got real for her.
I’m only gone for a couple minutes, but when I arrive back to the bar, Maizie’s body has lost its tension. I set her fruit salad and two banana/coconut fruit drinks in front of her. She smiles at me.
“You’re a sweetheart, Allie.” she says, her voice deeper and calmer. I see her eyelids are drooping slightly.
“You feel better?”
“Mm-hmm.” she says, the smile seeming to be permanent.
“Wow. I have to switch to rum and coke.”
“It’s not the booze.” Maizie laughs, “It’s the molly-plus.”
I look at Zee.
“I plugged her. It works faster.”
Zee takes one of the syringes out of his pocket and shows me, it’s filled with a milky pink slurry. He pretends to press the plunger.
“Up the bum - squish! Right into the mucus membranes.” he says putting it away, “That one’s yours by the way.”
“It’s fucking amazing, Allie.” Maizie says, “I’m so fucking horny I’m tingling inside.”
She playfully picks a large piece of watermelon from her fruit salad and climbs up on the bar, laying down on her back with her face just under mine. She sensually slides the watermelon into my mouth.
“Chew.” she whispers, “And feed me.”
Maizie opens her mouth. I chew and lean forward, opening my mouth and covering her wet lips. She licks the watermelon out of my mouth and swallows.
“More.” she breathes. I like this play, and begin to eat but not swallow, feeding her like a mother bird feeds the hungry mouth of her chick. Halfway through the large bowl of fruit salad, I open one of the juices and fill my mouth then fill hers with it before going back to the fruit salad.
As we play, I hear the clock as Charles introduce the 12:30 girl, Janet. Janet has chosen hanging and within moments I hear her grunting and straining over the wet slaps of her thighs as she kicks and struggles her way to sexual death. Near the end I hear her lose control of her bowels.
Maizie moans as I continue to feed her, masturbating herself to small, tight orgasms, but always coming back for more. Near the end of the bowl, she moans and squirms.
“I’m full.” she sighs as I stroke her tight belly.
“Not yet.” I whisper to her and finish the bowl, then feed her the other coconut/banana drink. Then I pick up her rum and coke and fill my mouth, French kissing her and letting gravity drain my mouth into hers. I up-end the last of the drink and repeat the sensual perversion.
Maizie moans and giggles, “My belly is going to pop.”
“That would be an intense way to die.” I whisper, nibbling her ear.
Maizie whines and squirms on the bar top, “... ohhhh ... I need to get fucked.” then opens her eyes, looking up at Zee.
“Come fuck me, big brother.” she pleads.
“Suck my cock first.” Zee says.
Maizie laughs languidly and climbs off the bar onto her knees as Zee rounds the bar. Usually I would leave and give them privacy, but this time I stay, walking around to behind the bar and mixing myself a strong vodka and cranberry. I watch Maizie throat Zee’s cock.
“Don’t sick-up.” I caution her, “Or I’ll have to feed you again.”
Maizie gags and heaves, but swallows everything that comes up. After a time - with a gathering crowd who know Maizie is next up - Zee pulls out of Maizie’s hungry mouth and lifts her to push her face down on the bar. She gazes at me as Zee fucks her and by the changes of her expression I realize he’s fucking her anally.
Maizie’s expression transforms from playful enjoyment to a grimace as tears well in her eyes. I think she is remembering the years she has enjoyed sex with Zee and realizing this is the last time with her brother. It’s hard to believe that Maizie is sentimental, but there is no other explanation; it isn’t physical pain because as Zee cums inside her she has a convulsive orgasm.
As she stays where she is, staring at me with her sweat-slick face against the bar surface, Zee buckles back up, then slides three fingers into her gaped anus and lifts her feet from the floor.
“There, baby. You’re all loosened up, ready to take it.” he tells her.
“... oh god ...” Maizie moans, then whimpers; “... do it now ... I’m ready now ... fucking do me, big brother ... do me ...” I feel comforted to know that despite being terrified less than an hour ago, Maizie is eager to experience her chosen method of death. The hunger in her voice is obvious, the arousal on her face impossible to misinterpret.
Zee takes her tenderly by the shoulders and helps her regain her feet. He walks her into the playroom as she staggers and trips, disoriented and uncoordinated. It must be the combination of alcohol, molly-plus, and her high sexual arousal that is overwhelming her. As I follow, I see that her inner thighs are shiny and slick with clear mucus leaking from her pussy, and like Corrine, she is dripping.
I too am getting caught up in the sexual frenzy that is building with each girl. I envy Maizie in this moment, briefly wishing I could trade places with her, to even let Zee do me, but that wouldn’t be fair to her and it would be a betrayal of my relationship with Charles. But I am that horny, and I haven’t even had the molly-plus yet.
As Zee gets Maizie onto the loveseat in the wet area I notice people engaging openly in sexual behaviour around me; girls throating cocks, couples fucking, one mature woman being fisted.
The clock chimes 1:00 am and Charles introduces Maizie. People settle in as Zee picks up a spit that was sitting in a large tray affixed to the wall and Maizie gets up on her knees and leans her chest against one arm of the loveseat, her pale bum raised toward Zee. I see that her sweaty anus is still gaped open and leaking Zee’s cum down her crease.
“... come on, big brother ...” Maizie whines and wiggles her bum - she’s desperate for it to start, “... do me ... oh god, do me ...”
Zee carefully lifts the spit and gently slides the sharp end into Maizie’s open anus and up into her rectum. Maizie makes appreciative sounds as he pushes it deeper, filling her rectum with the steel. Maizie calms as he moves it to change the angle and once satisfied starts to slowly fuck her with it - she knows it’s starting, that she is going to have her frantic need satisfied; to feel the spit penetrate her from her bum through her core and up her throat.
We all watch as the spit slides deeper into Maizie’s bowels with each slow thrust and once well imbedded, Zee continues working it with one hand as he slides two fingers into Maizie’s pussy and starts massaging her g-spot. Maizie is making enthusiastic sexual sounds as she closes her eyes and sways gently back and forth with her fucking.
“... hang on ...” she gasps as it gets deeper, but Zee doesn’t ‘hang on’, he pushes it deeper instead - it’s past her belly button now. Maizie cries out then rolls her hips as though she is adjusting the spit’s location inside her. She must have found the sweet spot because she makes a happy sound and shudders. I am wandering how deep it will have to go before Maizie really starts to react, when I notice drool drip from her lower lip and her hanging belly begins to undulate. The spit is close to her stomach, bloated tight with fruit salad and fluids. For all I know, the sharp tip just scraped it.
Zee continues to fuck her with it and Maizie starts breathing hard, gasping, gripping the arm of the loveseat so tightly her knuckles turn white. The sharp spit must be trying to work its way out of her colon and into her bloated stomach.
“... oh-my-god ...” Maizie gasps and seconds later her belly suddenly clenches and she spews a gush of fluid - mostly a muddy slurry of rum and coke and fruit juice. Before she can draw a breath, she sicks-up hard, her body curling and her head dropping.
Her watery spew is tinted red ... she just sicked-up up masticated fruit and blood. My legs go weak realizing that the spit has already punctured Maizie’s stomach - ‘oh honey’ I think, ‘You’re almost there’.
Zee doesn’t stop and Maizie doesn’t appear to want him to; he keeps fucking her with the spit and she keeps pushing back against it.
Maizie is gasping and sicking-up up as she rides the spit and Zee fucks her gradually harder and deeper. At one point she starts to cry out “Ohh ...” but it is cut off by a powerful heave of bloody slurry.
Between heaves, Maizie curls her pelvis as she fucks the spit and with each heave her lower belly sucks inward making her belly hollow, but the long bulge of the spit running up her midline is clearly visible. I feel a tug in my pelvic cradle imagining how that feels for her.
My legs are growing weaker and I’m trembling, watching my new friend go through what I will be going through in less than an hour. It’s both arousing and terrifying, but what I know for sure is that I have to sit down before I fall down.
Near-by on a large ottoman, I see a slim girl who has shed her bottoms and has her knees drawn up with one arm behind her and is masturbating. She isn’t using the entire ottoman, so I go and sit at her feet.
Maizie continues to ride the spit, gasping between heaves and not once trying to pull away from Zee. A number of times she tries to cry out; “Oh yeah!” but heaves at the same time, distorting her voice and increasing the volume to a near scream. I can tell she is overwhelmed sexually and surrendering to it when she starts letting her head fall forward - she knows her end is close. Charles moves in and lifts her head to keep her throat aligned. Maizie doesn’t try to pull out of his gentle grip, seeming to appreciate him helping holding her head.
Maizie suddenly makes that harsh sound when something is stuck in your throat and you try to hork it up. The spit is entering the base of her gullet - her stomach now fully penetrated. Maizie’s eyes are squeezed shut and she is gagging and gurgling as Zee continues to fuck her with the spit with shallower strokes. Her belly is still undulating and I see her pussy gripping Zee’s fingers as orgasmic convulsions rock her body - her nipples are puckered and tight.
I feel the girl on the ottoman shudder and when I look down I see she is fucking her anus with a long glass dildo. I also see something that surprises me; an erect penis and testicles trapped between her clenched thighs. She is a trap - a transgendered boy so beautiful that she easily passes as a girl. She’s working herself deep, her mouth open as she stares transfixed at the last stages of Maizie’s impalement. Suddenly she presses the dildo deep and her cock tightens and swells and she sprays cum down the side of my thigh as orgasmic pulses tighten her body. Her cock dances in pulses even after she’s ejaculated as she goes back to fucking herself. I wipe up her cum off my thigh and lick my finger clean.
Maizie meanwhile is gagging and choking on the spit. I can hear it in her throat as her stomach continues to convulse and small amounts of fluid is sputtering around the steel to spray from her open mouth. Zee pushes it as far as he’s willing, and the wet sounds Maizie is making tell us that the tip is in her mouth. I see Maizie’s belly tighten and she pisses hard, the gush spraying against Zee’s palm and spattering on the love seat.
Zee lets go of the imbedded spit and grasps her trembling thigh to steady her as her belly heaves and her body fights the steel inside her as it tries to curl. Opening her eyes slightly, Maizie’s face has an expression of complete bliss and she spends the next few seconds making soft gagging sounds as her arms flop limp and her belly slumps. I see the exact instant the light fades from her eyes and she dies.
That’s when it hits me ...
continue to part 3