P
Pia
Guest
I really am so excited! Because tomorrow I am going to be killed. So I am just a little fearful too. But mainly excited.
I should tell you who I am. My name is Ella and I am 26 and I have a BA from one of those nice liberal arts colleges out East. I'm rather pretty (or at least that's what people say), but you can decide on that. I still have the lovely softness about me that girls begin to loose in their twenties. I'm sort of on my own. My parents died in a car crash when I was at college. At first I was sad and cried a lot, but now I think I can see that it was, somehow, liberating.
I'm Bi. And I am a submissive. And I've enough money from my parents, so I don't really need to work. And I can do the things I like. A bit of art and writing and indulging my inner-self. I suppose some people, if they knew what I get up to, would want to have me committed. Especially if I told them that I want to be executed, for real, not as a game, but for real. They wouldn't get it. But I do. We all die, after all. Without death, no life. And I want to really enjoy my death. Not when I am old, or even older, but now, when I am still a lovely looking girl. But you have to decide whether I really am.
Not the best picture of me maybe, but you'll get the idea. I think I am pretty anyway. And so it's not been too hard to find people to hang out with. And now I'm with him and he's perfect. And so is his other girl. We love each other a lot. And I like the possibilities with him and with her. I like the games we play, and the things they do to me.
And now I've decided that tomorrow they will kill me. Execute me. And I am very very excited.
We've made some plans and some rules. So no safe words, of course.
Tonight we'll eat. Not too much and not too much drink either, but something really good. And we'll have sex. The three of us. All night probably.
Then tomorrow, when the dawn is up, we'll start.
These are the things we've agreed. I think it will be wonderful.
In the morning he will tie me up and rape me, violently.
Then they will do things to me that will hurt.
We've thought about these little tortures:
They will tie me stretched out over a tree stump and torture me with water.
They will lift me up and set me over the old two-handled saw, which they have already hung between two trees, so that it cuts in to my sex.
They will suspend me, first of all on the strappado, then spread-eagled. That's a great position to do lots of things to my body I think.
They will burn me on my breasts and legs and arms with hot irons.
They will tie barbed wire around my waist. Tightly.
They will whip me. This is my favourite part, because it can be done in so many ways, and with different sorts of whips, and I know it's the precursor to the thing I want most.
So, they will whip me, hard and without pity. With the single-tail and with the cat and with the whip he has made with little bits of lead shot on the strands.
And then it will probably be time.
They will take me down and give me water. It will be late afternoon now. I will be bloody, but my face will be untouched, always untouched. Just the sweat and tears and my long dark hair matted with my own blood.
And they will take me to where they have made the cross ready. The cross bar. They will lay me on my torn back and tie my wrists. Then he will sit over me, on me, and she will kiss me, and he will nail me with the spikes he has ready. First my left wrist, then my right.
And then they will lift me to my feet. I will probably be almost passing out by now I think.
And they will haul the cross bar, with me on it, up to the top of the vertical post that is already fixed in the ground. And she will tie my ankles, one foot over the other. He will be ready with the spike and will hammer it through my feet. Through my top foot, through the sole, through my bottom foot, and into the wood. And they will stand and look at me and I will look down over my broken body and look at them.
They will sit down and talk and watch me slowly writhe on my cross.
After a while he will stand up and stroke my sex and take a sharpened stick he has and force it into me. And she will kiss my legs.
And after a further while he will come again with the heated irons and burn my calves and the sides of my body and the tips of my breasts.
And I will hang there in my sublime pain until it is night. Knowing that this is my last day and that my beautiful agony must soon end.
We've talked about this, about how they will kill me before midnight, because that is what I want. I don't exactly know what they will do but I hope that at a certain point, when the sun is down and the fire they have made is sending light flickering over my torn and tortured body, he will come with his baseball bat, one of those metal ones, and smash my shins.
And then he will watch me for a while and before I die, because with my legs broken I will die quite quickly now, he will take his hunting knife, the one with the curved blade and with the saw-toothed end, and will slit me open from the base of my rib cage to my sex and I will look down and see my insides pour down out over my shattered legs and I will gasp and cry and look up at the stars and thank him and thank her and then I will die.
I am so excited. I am so looking forward to tomorrow....
I should tell you who I am. My name is Ella and I am 26 and I have a BA from one of those nice liberal arts colleges out East. I'm rather pretty (or at least that's what people say), but you can decide on that. I still have the lovely softness about me that girls begin to loose in their twenties. I'm sort of on my own. My parents died in a car crash when I was at college. At first I was sad and cried a lot, but now I think I can see that it was, somehow, liberating.
I'm Bi. And I am a submissive. And I've enough money from my parents, so I don't really need to work. And I can do the things I like. A bit of art and writing and indulging my inner-self. I suppose some people, if they knew what I get up to, would want to have me committed. Especially if I told them that I want to be executed, for real, not as a game, but for real. They wouldn't get it. But I do. We all die, after all. Without death, no life. And I want to really enjoy my death. Not when I am old, or even older, but now, when I am still a lovely looking girl. But you have to decide whether I really am.
Not the best picture of me maybe, but you'll get the idea. I think I am pretty anyway. And so it's not been too hard to find people to hang out with. And now I'm with him and he's perfect. And so is his other girl. We love each other a lot. And I like the possibilities with him and with her. I like the games we play, and the things they do to me.
And now I've decided that tomorrow they will kill me. Execute me. And I am very very excited.
We've made some plans and some rules. So no safe words, of course.
Tonight we'll eat. Not too much and not too much drink either, but something really good. And we'll have sex. The three of us. All night probably.
Then tomorrow, when the dawn is up, we'll start.
These are the things we've agreed. I think it will be wonderful.
In the morning he will tie me up and rape me, violently.
Then they will do things to me that will hurt.
We've thought about these little tortures:
They will tie me stretched out over a tree stump and torture me with water.
They will lift me up and set me over the old two-handled saw, which they have already hung between two trees, so that it cuts in to my sex.
They will suspend me, first of all on the strappado, then spread-eagled. That's a great position to do lots of things to my body I think.
They will burn me on my breasts and legs and arms with hot irons.
They will tie barbed wire around my waist. Tightly.
They will whip me. This is my favourite part, because it can be done in so many ways, and with different sorts of whips, and I know it's the precursor to the thing I want most.
So, they will whip me, hard and without pity. With the single-tail and with the cat and with the whip he has made with little bits of lead shot on the strands.
And then it will probably be time.
They will take me down and give me water. It will be late afternoon now. I will be bloody, but my face will be untouched, always untouched. Just the sweat and tears and my long dark hair matted with my own blood.
And they will take me to where they have made the cross ready. The cross bar. They will lay me on my torn back and tie my wrists. Then he will sit over me, on me, and she will kiss me, and he will nail me with the spikes he has ready. First my left wrist, then my right.
And then they will lift me to my feet. I will probably be almost passing out by now I think.
And they will haul the cross bar, with me on it, up to the top of the vertical post that is already fixed in the ground. And she will tie my ankles, one foot over the other. He will be ready with the spike and will hammer it through my feet. Through my top foot, through the sole, through my bottom foot, and into the wood. And they will stand and look at me and I will look down over my broken body and look at them.
They will sit down and talk and watch me slowly writhe on my cross.
After a while he will stand up and stroke my sex and take a sharpened stick he has and force it into me. And she will kiss my legs.
And after a further while he will come again with the heated irons and burn my calves and the sides of my body and the tips of my breasts.
And I will hang there in my sublime pain until it is night. Knowing that this is my last day and that my beautiful agony must soon end.
We've talked about this, about how they will kill me before midnight, because that is what I want. I don't exactly know what they will do but I hope that at a certain point, when the sun is down and the fire they have made is sending light flickering over my torn and tortured body, he will come with his baseball bat, one of those metal ones, and smash my shins.
And then he will watch me for a while and before I die, because with my legs broken I will die quite quickly now, he will take his hunting knife, the one with the curved blade and with the saw-toothed end, and will slit me open from the base of my rib cage to my sex and I will look down and see my insides pour down out over my shattered legs and I will gasp and cry and look up at the stars and thank him and thank her and then I will die.
I am so excited. I am so looking forward to tomorrow....
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