After watching the girls be impaled that night as I fucked myself on the little cushion, I knew I would die in that room like they had with strangers and a few people I know witnessing my final moments, and my body trembling as I pissed and vomited with hard steel deadly deep in core.
I was born into the wrong body and had suffered with it my entire life; the teasing; the bullying; the shunning from my own family. I hated living as who they thought I should be, and had tried to end my existence three times; first with pills; second by blood; third by hanging. And each time I would wake up in the hospital, cuffed and manacled to a bed in the psych ward with the agony that I was still alive and still in a boy’s body. I would scream and rage at them until they would inject me, and the world would dull and fade and I would sink into the darkness of my tortured soul.
Then I found Legend House. It was an abandoned wreck when I discovered it, the first four girls already dead and freed from the pain of this world, and the periodic sexual murders the cops callec 'copy-cat murders' that kept recurring, but I knew they weren’t really murders; those girls went willingly to their torturous orgasmic deaths. To me Legend House was an altar drawing those of us who could no longer bear our lives where others would release us in orgasmic ecstasy into the world beyond. I didn’t know if anything existed after death, but that possible void didn’t scare me, it was those sweet and intense final moments that I craved.
I know I was an annoying, skinny little kid as I hounded Zee to take me there and do horrible things to this body that I did not choose, and when I heard about the Anniversary orgy I tearfully begged him to let me come. I would let anyone do me in any way they chose I promised him, but Zee just stroked my tear wet cheek and say; “You’re too young, sweetie. Too young.”
I sat outside Legend House that night, shivering in the cold for hours, listening at a boarded up basement window as girl after girl screamed out her painful ecstasy and was released. And the cock I hated would throb and tent the lines of my skirt and release gobs of cum over and over from its root that clenched and spasmed as my belly tightened in orgasm while I listened to those girls die. I didn't even have to touch myself - I just came over and over as I listened to other girls get what I wanted.
When I found out the town was going to destroy my cherished Legend House, I almost lost my mind. That’s when the suicide attempts began, and the long torturous incarcerations in the psych ward, the drugs, the dullness, the hopelessness. But when I heard that Charles had bought the house and was renovating it, I had a new hope to cling to. I played the psychologists game and behaved how they wanted me to behave and said what they wanted to hear, and I was released and given prescriptions I never took.
Charles and Zee and Brianne have always been so sweet and gentle with me; always accepting; never judging. When I found Zee again and asked if I was still too young, he said I was close - to be patient, to be gentle with myself until it was time. At last I was allowed to attend the wonderful orgies of dying at Legend House, embraced by Charles and Zee and Brianne, allowed to be myself and fuck my bowels as I watched girls experiencing the end of life that I had craved for years.
One night as I lay curled in Zee’s arms, my mouth and throat slick with his cum and my own sexual drive sated for the night, Zee and Charles told me my time had come if I still wanted it, because many men had seen me and wanted to watch my delicate body in torment. They said it wouldn’t be that night, because there was still so much they wanted me to experience first. I sobbed in Zee’s arms then, his strong hands holding me close, Charles hand rubbing my back, Brianne kissing my cheeks and me expressing the gratitude I felt as a warm glow in the core of my soul.
They brought me back when the men who wanted me would assemble to watch my slow process toward my ultimate end. First came the training; I had to train my bowels to accept a special spit - a thick one, the size and shape of a stallion’s cock. I dressed in my cutest girl clothes and rode that dildo, taking it deeper and deeper each training night that would end with some other girl’s torturous death.
On those nights the chosen girl would watch me as I rode the spit that would one day kill me. Zee warned me that though the dildo I rode was soft and pliable, on my final night it would be rigid with the sharpened steel shaft inside it. He told me I would feel a vast difference when it was rigid, that this soft version followed the natural curves of my bowels, the rigid one would pull them straight and stretch them and the feeling would be breathtaking and overwhelming. I wanted that so badly; to feel death inside my belly, fucking me slowly until the steel was in my gullet.
It got so I could ride that dildo so deep inside me that it would bump against my stomach and make me gag and heave. When I reached that goal, they would feed me pudding until my tummy was tight with it, then make me fuck myself until I vomited into a little bucket that Brianne held under my chin. My liquid heaves were like orgasms and my unwanted cock would spurt and leak.
The next plateau in my preparation came when I was to have my final boygasms at the skilled hands of Brianne. She encased my cock and balls in a ring and slathered me with oil and masturbated me for hours as my death fans and the girl who was going to die that night watched me quivering and crying out.
It was sweet torture.
Brianne worked my cock and balls and kept me erect until my root ached and each convulsive orgasm burned and cramped my lower belly. I was told by Charles as I begged futility for Brianne to stop that I had to endure these final boygasms until they were sure that I had embraced my future and had abandoned the last of my male sexuality and was ready for my final transformation.
Brianne worked me until I was delirious with my boygasms, and when I sobbed and felt like my body was no longer my own, Brianne stopped and Zee held me and soothed me, and I promised with wracking sobs that I would never again use my boy parts sexually.
The next week was to be my final transformation
I have to admit I was scared the night Charles planned to perform my castration. I arrived trembling and Brianne and Zee were so sweet and gentle as they got me ready. I was both aroused and terrified.
I had gone a week without sex, even masturbating, and the pent up sexual tension was enormous. There had been nights when the throbbing knot at the root of my cock kept me up all night, squirming and writhing around it, wanting nothing more than to stroke the wretched thing and cum like I had for years.
Oh god, I was so horny as my skirt was stripped from me and my t-shirt was pushed up to bare my belly while all those men and the girl who'd come all the way from Portland to be gutted that night stood around me, looming over me as they watched me be prepared to be castrated. I lay there as Charles lifted my legs by the ankles and placed them on either side of him and then wrapped my cock with the first zip tie, constricting it hard and cutting off the blood flow. Then the second, and finally the third around my testicles, making them throb and ache.
Then he showed me the knife - it was brand new out of the package; a ceramic one with a blade as sharp as a razor and then it was too soon and I wanted to stop, to run, to get away. He was going to cut me. He was going to cut me so bad.
Brianne and Zee held my upper arms as I twitched and quivered and Charles laid the edge against my cock between the zip ties and began to saw and the pain was more than I’d ever felt. I let out a guttural sound like an animal and arched my back and strained until I saw stars and then it was off. My cock was off, severed from my body like I always wanted and I almost lost my mind - a thing I’d hated my whole life and wanted gone and now that it was I felt its loss like part of me had just died.
Then before I could even catch my breath, Charles pulled on my testicles and I felt the blade there and Charles started to saw near my root and I gagged and dry heaved and became delirious as I thrashed and Zee and Brianne held me tight. It lasted only a few minutes but it felt like eternity, like I was living in this world of pain and shock forever. I remember in the middle of it experiencing pain so intense it was like an orgasm and I heard the girl was going to be gutted say; “My god, she’s cumming!”
Then I was sobbing like my heart was breaking and I could feel my tears flowing onto Zee’s belly and the snot flowing over my upper lip as he held me and soothed me and I was wounded, oh god I was so wounded. It was like a waking nightmare until the girl from Portland leaned over me and kissed me long on the lips and said; "Thank you. You've made this so much easier for me."
Then she laid down on the tarp in the centre of the floor and spread her thighs and while one of the men fingered her and the others held her tight to the floor, Charles cut open her belly from her mound to her sternum as she cried out and squirmed. Then as she went into shock and started trembling badly, all the men reached into her open belly and played with her insides. Charles dug his hand deep and took hold of her vagina and massaged it and she cried out she was cumming until he reached higher with his other hand and squeezed her stomach hard and she puked and convulsed until she went limp and died.
Zee slept over that night and held me tenderly as I slept fitfully.
They pampered me though the weeks of my recovery and I felt so loved by them. Brianne told me my mom kept phoning, asking if they had seen me, and the police had come by during their search, but I was living in the secret part of the basement where girls came to die. Charles brought a little television to me so I could watch the news of search parties all around the outskirts of town looking for my body, because my mom was convinced I had been abducted. If she only knew I was living happily in the room I came to die in.
All these people who suddenly cared about me - most all of them cruel and uncaring before, told the reporters how special I was; how gentle and sweet and how they missed me terribly, and I laughed because this gentle and sweet girl was just castrated by the only friends she ever had and soon would be impaled in a room full of lustful men because she wanted that violence done to her new cockless body.
When my healing reached a point where new pink skin replaced the scabs, they reintroduced me to sexual pleasure; Brianne would lick me and press her tongue into the little fleshy stub that used to be my penis until I’d spasm in orgasm, and Zee would fuck me anally and use dildos on me and I had cramping orgasms deep in my belly, and they were better than before because they didn’t end with my hated cock spraying a pearly mess everywhere; I would strain and feel my insides grow tight and hard with Zee’s cock or his dildo riding the throb at my root and I would cum and cum and cum.
Tonight is the night.
I am the main attraction.
I learned long ago that I loved to throat cocks, gagging and heaving until I felt the head swell and the pearly ropes of cum would pulse down my throat and I would swallow and swallow until I’d milked every last drop from them.
Tonight that is my foreplay, moving from stranger to stranger as they watched a future girl be tortured and edged, propped on my elbow on one hip as I sucked and throated until they filled me with their cum, then moving to the next and the next and the next, until my belly felt heavy with it.
Before this started, Breanne and I lay naked together and she fed me vanilla pudding - my favourite - until my tummy was filled with it.
“This is for later.” she said and smiled, “It will feel like you're filled with cum. Plus, it will make it better when the convulsions start.”
I looked at her a bit puzzled.
“Dry heaves can be painful.” she explained, “And this will be a lubricant for the spit.”
Then I understood, and that understanding gave me a sexual tug deep in my root.
Then as a treat, Charles produced a large cup of cum they had collected over the months and frozen, but tonight had thawed and heated to body temperature just for me, and to the cheers of the men who had come to watch me die, I drank it down, feeling the slithering ropes of it sliding down my throat like oysters, filling my stomach even more, making my belly feel heavy and sensual.
When the future girl passed out form the pain, it was time.
Charles showed them the horse cock dildo I had practiced on, and demonstrated how they made it rigid and lethal by sliding the sharpened shaft of stainless steel up through its centre until the tip pushed through the end. He told the men that once the dildo was all the way inside me, the flat head of it pressed against my stomach, they would push the shaft all the way, making it puncture my stomach and choke me as it slid up my gullet.
Watching his demonstration and description as I sat on one hip watching sent shiver-bumps up and over my body and scalp.
Then Zee laid down with his flaccid cock out and I got on all fours between his open thighs.
“Are you ready?” Charles asked from behind me.
“Do me.” I said softly and it began.
The room reeks of sex. I can hear men speaking softly and the girl being fist fucked lazily as she slowly awakens.
The dildo is deep, but not nearly as deep as it will be. I feel the difference this time; it is rigid with the hidden shaft of stainless rod inside it, the sharp tip hidden inside it for now. As Charles works it inside me he is encouraging me, calling me ‘girl’ as he does, something I love him for.
The penetration isn’t like before just like they said, this time I can feel the rigidity pulling hard on my bowels, straightening them, making them ache sweetly. It is still trying to follow the natural placement of my descending colon along the left side of my belly, but as Charles pushes it deeper with one hand he reaches under me with the other and massages my belly muscles until I relax and let my belly go flaccid and hang down like a soft sack. I feel his fingers press deep on the left side, pulling the dildo toward the centerline of my abdomen, making it line up straight from my blown, gaped asshole to my tight bloated stomach. When it’s there I feel completely penetrated - my belly impaled right through my core.
Charles fucks me with it then, sliding it deep and shallow inside me, my orgasm right on the edge, and oh-my-god it feels so good. He works it in and out, making my descending colon behave and stay where he put it. This feels so much more intense than when I rode it on my own - the rigidity reminding me that the hard, sharp spit is embedded within and when I reach my peak of arousal, Charles will push the spit through my stomach and up my gullet until I gag and choke to death with this monster filling my entire core. The thought makes shiver-bumps dance over my body; up the backs of my thighs, across my bum and belly and chest, making my small nipples tighten and tingle.
I open my eyes and see Zee’s cock below my face - it is growing, swelling, wanting me. I lower my face and take him into my mouth, sucking and tonguing it, feeling it get harder. Then I press my face down and am rewarded as it slides over the root of my tongue and into my throat. I gag as I throat fuck him, my belly quivering and hitching, and when I heave I feel my body tries to curl like it always does when I sick-up, but the dildo won’t let it and I feel that impossible penetration from my asshole to just under my clenching stomach. A tight heave grips my abdomen and I feel the dildo pull on my asshole and the tip press hard against my spine. Oh-god, I’ve never been so deeply penetrated.
Charles is fucking me slower and deeper now and at the top of each stroke I feel the blunt end of the dildo pressing against my bloated stomach, pushing the cum and the pudding up my throat. I don’t know if it’s the pressure from the dildo or my gag reflex from Zee’s cock in my throat, but I sick-up, puke pushing around his cock and flowing under my nose and chin, mashed against Zee’s crotch. I don’t want to lose all my stomach contents, so I work to keep his cock deep, acting as a plug, but another heave pushes the thick fluid up from my belly and I feel it in the back of my throat and it flows from my nostrils to add to the mess I’ve already made.
I am so sexually aroused now and so scared. I know that if I lift my head from Zee’s slimy crotch, Charles will take that as I signal that I’m ready for the last part of my impalement and push the shaft deeper. I fight it because of fear, but at the same time I crave it - I want this, I want to die choking and heaving in front of this room full of strangers like all the other girls before me. I’ve been dreaming of this moment since I was an annoying pre-teen, begging Zee to let me join the girls of Legend House, reinforced by watching Zee’s sister and the blue haired girl be impaled in this room - of all the girls who died that night, they were the best; each taking the steel deep into their bellies, not fighting it as they convulsed and sicked-up and came hard. I know they orgasmed because I was so close I could smell them and watch their cunts spasm and squeeze tight and gape by turns.
I can smell myself now in the aromas of the room; the earthy scent of freshly fucked asshole - the smell of an open rectum, the smell I filled my room with night after night as I fucked myself and imagined what this would feel like.
I heave again and decide it’s time.
I whimper and shudder and vomit drools from my mouth and nostrils as I lift my head, and right away I feel the pressure increase in my belly as Charles grips the spit and pushes, the resistance of the dildo clinging to the steel as I feel the sharp bite inside my bowel and it begins to penetrate that delicate flesh. I cry out as I feel it breaking out of my colon and press sharp against my stomach.
Oh-god, this is it!
I gag and heave and the sharp bite in my stomach makes me cough and choke as it sends spasms up my gullet. I make a weak little girl sound as I feel the spit penetrating my still bloated stomach, then sob from the intense emotions that wash through me - Charles and Zee are making my wish come true and it’s so sweet and overwhelming I can barely stand it. Then I feel Charles push harder and suddenly the shaft is scraping its way up my gullet and the next few seconds consume me in their intensity. There is no more time for thought, no more time for gratitude - I instantly become selfish and completely awash in the sensations of my impalement.
As the hard shaft becomes a foreign presence in my gullet, I sick-up violently, my stomach clenching tight around the steel as though trying to grip it and slow this deadly penetration. I want to scream, but I am gagging hard and vomiting wildly, my body shaking with such violence that I’ve never felt before. I feel my gaped anus clench down on the dildo and I am suddenly cumming hard, the severe spasms of my orgasm mixing with the panic of the shaft sliding up and down my gullet - Charles is fucking me with it, granting my wish of not pushing it all the way out of my mouth because I don’t want the last thing I feel to be my teeth shattering as I bite down on the spit.
Cum and pudding gushes from my open mouth and I feel myself pissing from the little stub of scar tissue that used to be a penis. I am sure that if the dildo wasn’t imbedded in my rectum I’d be shitting myself as well, because I can feel my bowels rolling and cramping in my belly as my body fights my impending death.
My orgasm rolls on and on amidst the violence inside my belly and I begin to feel weak and dizzy. It’s too much. It’s just too much. But I hang on as the room turns upside down and I feel my tenuous grip on the floor leaving me. I feel like I’m going to fall upward as my vision tunnels then grows dark.
Oh-god, this is all that I imagined and more. It’s so powerful that it outstrips my ability to feel it all and I become lost in the storm, like a cork in an angry sea, tossed by the violent churning waves. I feel myself folding inward, no longer able to deal with the last seconds of my impalement, the last seconds of my life. Zee took me for a drive last week and showed me where they would bury my body; a small clearing in the woods that the sun only touches once a day for an hour; a peaceful little spot with songbirds flitting through the surrounding trees. I want to be there now, I want to be at peace.
I barely feel it when I collapse onto my side, still gagging and heaving as Charles lets go of the spit and I carry it with me to the floor. I feel the convulsions of my body slow as I lay on my side twitching and calming, then feel death and stillness creep into me like water soaks into a sponge.
I thought death would be lonely, but I am not alone. I feel two spirits come to me in that calmness and I know they are the blue haired girl and Zee’s sister. I cannot hear their voices, but I understand their thoughts as I feel their embrace; ‘Come with us’ they welcome me, ‘You’re not alone’. Then there are hundreds, maybe thousands of us, and I begin to feel their last moments of bliss and orgasmic pain wash through me as they share their final intense moments and I share my own.
And it is good. So good.