Journey of a Pain Slut ...

[Peony]

JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 6 Chapter 37

And now I am awake. The door is slighly ajar. I hear them come in. They must be carrying things. I can hear them clattering around. I can hear them.

I am awake.

And I know. I always knew. That it would be like this. Or some other way. That it would come to this. It's so unbelievably sweet. I'm smiling as I stroke my breasts, my clit. Gently. I know.

I am awake. I can hear them.

I can hear what they are saying.

And I am so happy.

Today. Here. It's going to happen. Today. Here.

I touch myself.

I am so happy.

I begin to think quickly. I begin to wonder. I begin to feel frightened. I beging to feel excited. It's today. They are going to do it to me. Today. Here.

I am so happy.

I wonder how it will be. How long it will last. I wonder how I will face the moment before they start. Will I want to stop?

I know I won't. I will be scared. So fucking scared. I will be humming Lana del Rey to myself. And Mahler. Kindertotenlieder. My sister played it on the piano. Songs for the death of children. Me. His little girl. Going to be killed.

KILLED!

I really am going to die today. I really am going to die today. I really am going to die today.

I keep repeating it to myself. I really am going to die today.

In awful, terrible pain. Hurting beyond hurt. The pain I want. The pain that I can't live without. The pain that will kill me

And they will do it to me. And she will watch. Abi, beautiful Abi will watch. And he will be scared. Even as he cuts me or nails me or ties me or whatever they have chosen to do to me . He will be scared. And Abi won't be. She will smile. And I will look at her and smile back. And then I will probably cry and scream and gasp and heave and slowly, slowly, slowly I will die.

I really am going to die today.

I really am going to die today.

I keep saying it. I try to calm myself. I'm so fucking frightened. So fucking excited. I so want this. I so want to hurt. I want this so fucking much.

And I'm so sorry. To my sis and my bro and my ma and pa. And my teachers who inspired me and encouraged me. And my friends. And the BF I left. I am so so sorry. But I need to do this. You will never know. You won't know what happened to me. Just Abi and Him will know. No-one else. Just them. And I am so sorry. But if you knew, perhaps you'd understand.

I really am going to die today. I really am going to die today. I really am going to die today.

And I am so happy. So amazingly fucking happy. And so fucking scared. But mainly...

...I am so so so happy...

 

[Pippajayne]

So I'm not at the library on this gloomy, dripping, dank day. I'm sitting at my laptop at my desk in my room. There's a birch tree battering its leafless branches against the window. It's warm and cosy here though. I've got a baggy t-shirt on, and that's it. I've got my fingers on the keyboard, but every so often.... .... I take a break and let them wander to my clit. I've found them wandering that way a lot as I drift from one page to another and one set of images to another and fantasize my way to a lovely, sweet, wet orgasm.
They've certainly opened my eyes. And in ways I hadn't imagined. I can't really still believe how excited images of sweet, pretty girls being led up onto scaffolds are. Nooses hung around necks. Eyes taking a last look at the world. I can't believe how fluttery I feel when I look at pictures of sweet, pretty girls being impaled, the long, spiked pole sliding into their cunts, the sense of horror as they feel themselves lifted and supported only through the wood that is forcing its way deeper into their guts, slowly killing them. I can't believe how my nipples harded when I look at pictures of sweet, pretty girls being tied down onto the torture rack, or being flogged, or being nailed onto their crosses.
It's an amazing thing, this fantasy thing. How we can imagine ourselves into these awful situations and how our minds can think us into loving them, adoring them, wanting them so so so much. But at the same time knowing that we really wouldn't want it at all. But at the same time maybe questioning that not wanting and sort of wishing that maybe it could be true. It's so confusing, but I love this strange confusion, I'm discovering.

Back to reality (sighs...). It's all going well on my front (and my back)... whips seem made for me and me for whips and my BF is such a darling boy and seems to like it too. I've really enjoyed him tying me tightly to my bed (or to his bed) so I'm as stretched out as I can be and then getting him to loop a thin cord around my belly (after I've taken my piercing out!) and pulling it really really tight and sliding it back and forwards so it almost cuts into me. It leaves a delicious red welt all around me, and feels as though my belly is burning up. And I adore so much getting cleaned up and putting on my jeans and a sloppy sweater without my bra and without any panties and going out with him into town and kissing him so everyone can see he loves me and so no-one can see the marks on me but so I know and he knows they are there. And then he slides his hand under my sweater and gently squeezes my nipple, then squeezes it harder and harder, and I know he's going to do it and I don't let the hurt show to anyone and I just kiss him deep in his mouth.

I'm going to stop now and look at some things and touch myself a bit more... XXX

So I'm not at the library on this gloomy, dripping, dank day. I'm sitting at my laptop at my desk in my room. There's a birch tree battering its leafless branches against the window. It's warm and cosy here though. I've got a baggy t-shirt on, and that's it. I've got my fingers on the keyboard, but every so often.... .... I take a break and let them wander to my clit. I've found them wandering that way a lot as I drift from one page to another and one set of images to another and fantasize my way to a lovely, sweet, wet orgasm.
They've certainly opened my eyes. And in ways I hadn't imagined. I can't really still believe how excited images of sweet, pretty girls being led up onto scaffolds are. Nooses hung around necks. Eyes taking a last look at the world. I can't believe how fluttery I feel when I look at pictures of sweet, pretty girls being impaled, the long, spiked pole sliding into their cunts, the sense of horror as they feel themselves lifted and supported only through the wood that is forcing its way deeper into their guts, slowly killing them. I can't believe how my nipples harded when I look at pictures of sweet, pretty girls being tied down onto the torture rack, or being flogged, or being nailed onto their crosses.
It's an amazing thing, this fantasy thing. How we can imagine ourselves into these awful situations and how our minds can think us into loving them, adoring them, wanting them so so so much. But at the same time knowing that we really wouldn't want it at all. But at the same time maybe questioning that not wanting and sort of wishing that maybe it could be true. It's so confusing, but I love this strange confusion, I'm discovering.





I'm just on page one of such a lot you have written Peony, I’m going to have to send this to my Kindle Fire. This is helping me so much as a mature trans woman, what I have just read make me feel so good as my thoughts are so much the same, but I have been worried that these were male influenced traits. To hear from a generic young woman that she to likes to fulfil her fantasies within the surrounds of nature, and that her feeling on viewing fantasy material on females being crucified flogged and generally tortured or as I choose to file them under “My Suffering Piers” dose put me very much on track.

I use “Suffering Piers” because most of what I view as fantasy, I like to get in my partners dungeon here in Southampton to try for real. I did take a little peek ahead and I did see that you Peony do get well into suspension; my avatar picture was influenced by one of Damnum’s posts where he depicts a girl being raised by soldiers as she is nailed only by her wrists to the patibulum. I did it for real by with straps instead on nails, but it was still very painful and my scream captured in the still was for real, but it did feel so good. Two things I always feel when I watch such videos or view stills are, I want to give this a try, or in the case of clips like https://xhamster.com/videos/alborada-whipping-scene-693799 on xhamster a feeling that I would like to travel back right into the scene and shot the executioner, instigators, and jeerers dead. I recently read Maicoldraw’s post in Crucified Women, Dhelia’s Crucifixion, I got so into this story that one side of me, the fantasy side, just craved the sensuality of this beautiful young girl and all she endured, while the reality side of me and my expertise within my BDSM interests looked on in horror, just wishing I could intervene and put a stop to it all. One great thing about our interest is that we do get a real fix on just what anyone enduring torture has to go through. As subs we always or should always have the power to sat STOP.

I shall now read on to see just how things pan out now that Fossy has joined the scene.

 

[Fossy]

JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 6 Chapter 38


I've become addicted to her. Her scent. Her taste.

I recognise the look in her eyes when she’s particularly turned on. The feel of her hands on my body. My warm breath on her ear when I’m whispering what I intend to do to her. I think about her with every heartbeat. When I'm fucking my wife, her face is all I see. She’s my own personal heroin. She’s under my skin but I need her in my blood. I crave the fix that she gives me and the sweet release that comes when I’m with her.

I know I'm in love with her; sometimes I don't know how I get by when she’s not with me, which to be honest is most of the time. I don't know how she got so deep inside my system. I know she has feelings for me, even if they’re not quite so deep as mine are for her. She’s so much younger than I am … she has everything ahead of her, she can be whatever she wants … But when she’s with me, whatever else she feels, I can see the lust. The desire. The need. The confusion in feeling the way she does and needing me so badly.

It has to end before we get sucked down into this deadly vortex and blow up my life … our lives. It’s what she wants, I know that … and now is the right time to kill my Little Girl.

“Bring the barbed whip,” I say to Red as she puts the things we have bought, together with the things we need, ready for transferring to the car. “And that gas blow torch from in the cleaning supplies cupboard. We will require that.”

“Fuck, really mister?” The tattooed beauty seems shocked, which, given our intent had emanated from her suggestions, seemed somewhat ironic.

“Yes, really Red, and now leave me for a while, I need to say goodbye to her … before we begin.”

I moved quietly into the bedroom and saw the slut looking back at me, her eyes open, a smile on her lips. She looked different, more relaxed, maybe even more peaceful.

She held out her arms and I went to her. Sitting on the bed I pulled her to me. I felt her breath on my neck. I felt her breasts against my chest. Her hands behind my head. My Little Girl was still naked, her body marked, swollen and covered in a multitude of colours following the substantial beating she had taken the day before. She locked eyes with me. I could swim in those eyes forever.

Then my Little Girl slowly moved her hand to mine and together they rested against her chest. She took my fingers into hers ... entwined as one. My breathing came in quiet, shallow segments. She kept her eyes on me, and laid my palm onto her breast. It was just big enough to perfectly fill my hand ... the perfect size. My cock sprang to life … no matter how grave the situation, my desire never failed to materialise when my slut was with me.

“I know what you are doing mister …” her hand brushed my cheek. “I have heard you talking, you and Ab … Red.”

Once again she almost revealed Red’s name, but I didn’t want that. Not now we have come so far. Not so near the end. Still no names.

“It’s a good time mister, the right time.” As she spoke, the emotion in the air was palpably thick … overpowering almost.

“I’m so happy,” a tear ran down her cheek as she ran her fingers over my lips. I kissed the tips, and then wiped the tear away.

“I love you,” I said, sharing my feelings in a clear, unadulterated manner.

She smiled, and said, “I know you do, and I love you too in my own way. You have been a light in my life mister …”

Then she was ready, like all the times before, only this time was the final time. She lay back, opened her legs and reached for me. So different to any girl I have ever known. After today she will be part of my life forever. I liked that feeling.

But for now, I just let her dictate, take charge. It was her time. This moment was a celebration of my Little Girl. She grasped me, placed me at her entrance, then spread herself with two fingers. I went with the flow, pushed and we were joined.

It flashed in my mind as I slowly pressed and withdrew, feeling the warm tight wrapping of her pliant lips sheathing my erection, that there would never be another time. Then I was lost in the moment, the sensations as her hips came up to meet me and hold us together. Her abdomen shuddered, then she relaxed. I felt her begin to build again and this time we were close together.

She came. I came. We came together … for the last time.

We lay afterwards in each other's arms.


******


It was 2pm. Red had her moments alone with her friend, her lover and no doubt they had also shared physical ecstasy in celebration of their final moments together.

We were ready.

Red and I moved to the bed where the slut had stayed while her lover and I finished the preparations. I placed the knife and the cup on the small bedside table. Picking up the blade I put a small cut in the tip of my thumb and let the blood drip into the cup.

Handing the blade to Red she nodded and did the same before my Little Girl completed the triumvirate.

In turn each of us dipped a finger into the cocktail of blood and sucked the red liquid into our mouths.

We were joined. Together for always. Whatever happened now on this day would simply further cement our togetherness.

“It’s time …” I said standing.

Red stepped away allowing the slut to stand. She was still naked. Her beautiful, beaten body not yet healed. She took my breath away. A black tee shirt was pulled over her head, to cover her just a little for the journey.

Then my Little Girl wobbled, her knees gave way and she fell back onto the bed. Both Red and I stared, first at one another and then at the slut.

Was it the long time she had spent in bed since being in the Cabana? Was it regret? Was it fear?

“I … I’m okay, it’s … o … kay.” Taking my hand, she pulled herself back onto her feet.

“Please don’t sedate me.” The slut pleaded, “I want to be wide awake through everything.”

I nodded, “Very well,” and signalled to Red. She moved behind her lover, took her wrists and bound them together with a thick, black cable tie.

And with a gentle push I sent my Little Girl forward.

She was heading towards her own execution and from now on she would be treated accordingly.

 

[Peony]

JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 6 Chapter 39

I know what they are doing.
In the next room. They are getting ready to kill me. I swallow. I bite my lip. I try to breathe calmly.

He comes to me.
“It’s a good time mister, the right time....I’m so happy,”
I hope he know that I truly am.

Breathe. Slowly.
He tells me he loves me. I know he does. He doesn't quite understand how he does, but I know he does. And I love him too. Not as a lover. But as the man who is delivering me to the thing I want most. I didn't know, all those weeks ago, that this is what I truly wanted, but now I do. Now I am sure. Quite sure. Utterly sure. I am certain. I breathe. I swallow.

Breathe. Slowly.
It is happening.
I open myself to him. We make love. Gently. Together. For the last time.

Breathe. Slowly.
Abi comes in. To say goodbye. I love her so much. I feel such tenderness for her. We lie together. Gently touching. With such infinite gentleness.

Breathe. Slowly.
“It’s time …”
Two words. Just two. I swallow. It's real. It's now. It's time.

Breathe. Slowly.
I try to stand, but somehow I can't
“I … I’m okay, it’s … o … kay.”

Breathe. Slowly.
I am ok. I am ok. I feel my whole inside tremble. It's real. It's now.

I ask them not to use the sedative. I pull the dark t-shirt over my breasts. It's real. It's now.

Breathe. Slowly.
I stand. I hold my wrists out behind. She ties them.

It's real. It's now.

Breathe. Slowly.
It's real. It's now. It is happening. I am going to be killed. I am going to die. I am going to suffer terribly. I have wanted this. I am ready. I tell myself. I am ready. I have wanted this. I am ready. I tell myself. I am going to be taken from here to a place and they are going to kill me. It's real.

Breathe. Slowly.
Walk.

I am theirs now. Theirs to kill. I am going to my execution. I am trembling. I want this so much. I want this so very very much.

 

[nicole]

JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 6 Chapter 38


I've become addicted to her. Her scent. Her taste.

I recognise the look in her eyes when she’s particularly turned on. The feel of her hands on my body. My warm breath on her ear when I’m whispering what I intend to do to her. I think about her with every heartbeat. When I'm fucking my wife, her face is all I see. She’s my own personal heroin. She’s under my skin but I need her in my blood. I crave the fix that she gives me and the sweet release that comes when I’m with her.

I know I'm in love with her; sometimes I don't know how I get by when she’s not with me, which to be honest is most of the time. I don't know how she got so deep inside my system. I know she has feelings for me, even if they’re not quite so deep as mine are for her. She’s so much younger than I am … she has everything ahead of her, she can be whatever she wants … But when she’s with me, whatever else she feels, I can see the lust. The desire. The need. The confusion in feeling the way she does and needing me so badly.

It has to end before we get sucked down into this deadly vortex and blow up my life … our lives. It’s what she wants, I know that … and now is the right time to kill my Little Girl.

“Bring the barbed whip,” I say to Red as she puts the things we have bought, together with the things we need, ready for transferring to the car. “And that gas blow torch from in the cleaning supplies cupboard. We will require that.”

“Fuck, really mister?” The tattooed beauty seems shocked, which, given our intent had emanated from her suggestions, seemed somewhat ironic.

“Yes, really Red, and now leave me for a while, I need to say goodbye to her … before we begin.”

I moved quietly into the bedroom and saw the slut looking back at me, her eyes open, a smile on her lips. She looked different, more relaxed, maybe even more peaceful.

She held out her arms and I went to her. Sitting on the bed I pulled her to me. I felt her breath on my neck. I felt her breasts against my chest. Her hands behind my head. My Little Girl was still naked, her body marked, swollen and covered in a multitude of colours following the substantial beating she had taken the day before. She locked eyes with me. I could swim in those eyes forever.

Then my Little Girl slowly moved her hand to mine and together they rested against her chest. She took my fingers into hers ... entwined as one. My breathing came in quiet, shallow segments. She kept her eyes on me, and laid my palm onto her breast. It was just big enough to perfectly fill my hand ... the perfect size. My cock sprang to life … no matter how grave the situation, my desire never failed to materialise when my slut was with me.

“I know what you are doing mister …” her hand brushed my cheek. “I have heard you talking, you and Ab … Red.”

Once again she almost revealed Red’s name, but I didn’t want that. Not now we have come so far. Not so near the end. Still no names.

“It’s a good time mister, the right time.” As she spoke, the emotion in the air was palpably thick … overpowering almost.

“I’m so happy,” a tear ran down her cheek as she ran her fingers over my lips. I kissed the tips, and then wiped the tear away.

“I love you,” I said, sharing my feelings in a clear, unadulterated manner.

She smiled, and said, “I know you do, and I love you too in my own way. You have been a light in my life mister …”

Then she was ready, like all the times before, only this time was the final time. She lay back, opened her legs and reached for me. So different to any girl I have ever known. After today she will be part of my life forever. I liked that feeling.

But for now, I just let her dictate, take charge. It was her time. This moment was a celebration of my Little Girl. She grasped me, placed me at her entrance, then spread herself with two fingers. I went with the flow, pushed and we were joined.

It flashed in my mind as I slowly pressed and withdrew, feeling the warm tight wrapping of her pliant lips sheathing my erection, that there would never be another time. Then I was lost in the moment, the sensations as her hips came up to meet me and hold us together. Her abdomen shuddered, then she relaxed. I felt her begin to build again and this time we were close together.

She came. I came. We came together … for the last time.

We lay afterwards in each other's arms.


******


It was 2pm. Red had her moments alone with her friend, her lover and no doubt they had also shared physical ecstasy in celebration of their final moments together.

We were ready.

Red and I moved to the bed where the slut had stayed while her lover and I finished the preparations. I placed the knife and the cup on the small bedside table. Picking up the blade I put a small cut in the tip of my thumb and let the blood drip into the cup.

Handing the blade to Red she nodded and did the same before my Little Girl completed the triumvirate.

In turn each of us dipped a finger into the cocktail of blood and sucked the red liquid into our mouths.

We were joined. Together for always. Whatever happened now on this day would simply further cement our togetherness.

“It’s time …” I said standing.

Red stepped away allowing the slut to stand. She was still naked. Her beautiful, beaten body not yet healed. She took my breath away. A black tee shirt was pulled over her head, to cover her just a little for the journey.

Then my Little Girl wobbled, her knees gave way and she fell back onto the bed. Both Red and I stared, first at one another and then at the slut.

Was it the long time she had spent in bed since being in the Cabana? Was it regret? Was it fear?

“I … I’m okay, it’s … o … kay.” Taking my hand, she pulled herself back onto her feet.

“Please don’t sedate me.” The slut pleaded, “I want to be wide awake through everything.”

I nodded, “Very well,” and signalled to Red. She moved behind her lover, took her wrists and bound them together with a thick, black cable tie.

And with a gentle push I sent my Little Girl forward.

She was heading towards her own execution and from now on she would be treated accordingly.

It's the big day, you are going to go beyond all reasonable limits, but as it is exciting.

 

[nicole]

JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 6 Chapter 39

I know what they are doing.
In the next room. They are getting ready to kill me. I swallow. I bite my lip. I try to breathe calmly.

He comes to me.
“It’s a good time mister, the right time....I’m so happy,”
I hope he know that I truly am.

Breathe. Slowly.
He tells me he loves me. I know he does. He doesn't quite understand how he does, but I know he does. And I love him too. Not as a lover. But as the man who is delivering me to the thing I want most. I didn't know, all those weeks ago, that this is what I truly wanted, but now I do. Now I am sure. Quite sure. Utterly sure. I am certain. I breathe. I swallow.

Breathe. Slowly.
It is happening.
I open myself to him. We make love. Gently. Together. For the last time.

Breathe. Slowly.
Abi comes in. To say goodbye. I love her so much. I feel such tenderness for her. We lie together. Gently touching. With such infinite gentleness.

Breathe. Slowly.
“It’s time …”
Two words. Just two. I swallow. It's real. It's now. It's time.

Breathe. Slowly.
I try to stand, but somehow I can't
“I … I’m okay, it’s … o … kay.”

Breathe. Slowly.
I am ok. I am ok. I feel my whole inside tremble. It's real. It's now.

I ask them not to use the sedative. I pull the dark t-shirt over my breasts. It's real. It's now.

Breathe. Slowly.
I stand. I hold my wrists out behind. She ties them.

It's real. It's now.

Breathe. Slowly.
It's real. It's now. It is happening. I am going to be killed. I am going to die. I am going to suffer terribly. I have wanted this. I am ready. I tell myself. I am ready. I have wanted this. I am ready. I tell myself. I am going to be taken from here to a place and they are going to kill me. It's real.

Breathe. Slowly.
Walk.

I am theirs now. Theirs to kill. I am going to my execution. I am trembling. I want this so much. I want this so very very much.

courage Peony you are fantastic you must tremble on your legs while walking towards your death in extreme sufferings but that they feelings, you will carry out, your craziest fantasy, I envy you

 

[Fossy]

JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 6 Chapter 40


Grabbing the collar of the tee shirt I gripped and ripped. The slut grunted as the tearing material pulled her body forwards. I stepped back to admire. A torn piece of black fabric exposing the entirety of the middle of her glorious body was far more provocative than if she had been naked. One ragged side of the shirt was being held at bay by the slut’s nipple. It was already engorged … hard and erect.

I nodded to Red and, using one of the blades she slit the cable tie holding my Little Girl’s wrists behind her body.

Leaving the apartment and loading up the car had been quite straight forward. We had enough privacy and, in any event, a young girl, wearing a black tee shirt, which could easily have been covering up a bikini, with her hands behind her back, was not a strange sight in sun-drenched San Agustin.

And so now we were here, wherever ‘here’ turned out to be.

“Pick up the step ladders.” We had parked the car is a small clearing, just off from the side of the road. It reminded me of arriving at the woods in Middleton, South Leeds … what a lifetime ago that seemed.

I watched the slut bend and pick up the cumbersome, but not too heavy, ladders, her bare-naked ass staring me in the face. Fuck … I would pine for that ass once this day was done …

She had no cross to bear, as such, but Red and I were determined that she was going to carry an instrument which would contribute to her torture …

As the slut loaded them up into her arms she grunted. Not heavy but six-foot long … bright silver aluminium ladders.

“Move …” I bade her walk.

Each carrying a bag of accessories, Red and I kept a few feet behind the slut so that we could watch her shape moving slowly but surely, with purpose, deeper into the mountain side foliage.

The occasion reminded me of a medieval girl being sent to her own execution. Her skimpy clothing torn, her body beaten, her chest gasping as she bore the burden of whatever weight was forced upon her slender body.

Even as we walked, I was becoming erect. Of course I was. This was the most erotic scene I had ever played out!

“Stop.” I commanded when we were sufficiently removed from the road side. My Little Girl did as commanded and the ladders tumbled to the floor.

She stood with her hands behind her back and her head bowed, perspiration already making her skin shine. She was a good girl, a very good Little Girl. My cock ached for her … but that was not why we were here.

“This tree?” I turned to Red. She nodded.

Moving to the slut I pulled the tattered remnants of the shirt from her body leaving her naked before us. She would never have the need for clothing again. She was shaking, as was I. I could feel a lump in my throat … was I going to be able to do this?

“I’m ready mister,” my Little Girl said quietly as if sensing my apprehension. It was all I needed. She was encouraging me. I needed to go through with this for my Little Girl, and for Red … for all of us.

Looking round for something to use I saw an old stump from a chopped down tree that had been completely uprooted and now laid dormant on its side, just waiting for me to find it.

Without a word I rolled it into position and then with Red’s help we stood it upright by the chosen tree.

“Stand on it.” I issued the next command, and then watched as silently Red loaned a hand to my Little Girl and she stood as instructed on the stump.

Positioning the ladders at the side of the tree I climbed several rungs until I was higher than the slut, my bulging cock in her line of sight …

“Arms high, hands together.”

Now it would begin.

As the slut obeyed I took her wrists and moved her arms into the position that I wanted them to be in. One back-hand flat to the tree, the back of the other hand in the palm of the first, so that they were effectively on top of one another.

“Pass me the hammer and two six-inch nails please Red.”

My Little Girl had been nailed to a tree before, but at least then I did so having thought through how easy I could extract the nails afterwards, and having administered shots of adrenalin boost, with appropriate after care on hand. Today there would be no thoughts of relative comfort, no after care at all … today she would be truly and properly hurt.

I held the point of one nail to the upward most palm. I sought out the pale skin where the scar from the previous impalement was. I would use the same spot again. The weakest point which meant that the remainder of the flesh and bone around it would be strong enough to hold her upright, at least for as long as we needed.

I pressed the nail harder into her hand. I felt her flinch and then heard her whimper. Fuck.

I paused.

“Do it, mister,” my slut said quietly, her gaze looking straight ahead.

And so, I did. A mighty hammer blow sent the nail into her hand. Then another quickly followed before her natural response could attempt to pull her away. A third in rapid succession drove the nail through both hands and into the wood.

I had hammered so hard and so quickly that my Little Girl hadn’t had the chance to manifest her response.

But now the pain was there in all its patent agony. Her head fell forward, her back arched and she pushed away from the tree. My hands suddenly were on her head holding her in position.

“Red, quickly hold her still …”

With eyes wide the flame-haired girl gripped the legs of her friend and lover holding her in place. The slut was shrieking, mad, short bursts as her tensed body refused to take in air. She'd banged her head on the harsh, gnarled trunk several times and I could already see blood from a gash in her scalp.

As things calmed a little, I touched the protruding nail head once more with the hammer, raised my arm, and in a blur brought it down.

I hammered the nail fully home. Again, the slut bucked and retched, awful animalistic sounds rasping from her throat …

I placed a second nail alongside the first. A new mark on her flesh, but her full body weight would ultimately need to be held and so another nail was required.

Two more blows and it was done, her hands pinned forever to the wood. Once her frantic screams faded, I saw that she was shaking, as indeed was I.

Red let go of her friend’s legs and just stared up at her with wide, tear-filled eyes.

I descended the ladder and also looked up at my Little Girl. She clenched her teeth. Her breathing was so hard that she was blowing out small strands of saliva that were dripping from her chin.

Her body was beautiful, even as it was … red and striped. Touching her skin, her thigh, her stomach I could almost feel her pain as she moaned quietly to herself. This was what I loved, the closeness to my slut’s suffering, becoming the yin to her yang, becoming the sadist to her masochist, desiring her pain, just as she desired it.

“Use the barbed flogger on her Red.” It was time to bring the flame-haired girl into the action.

If she felt any reluctance to become involved, she did not show it.

I stepped back, as Red approached with the whip. It was a long one, with nasty looking leather strips. The lashes were wound round with barbed wire, and the end tipped with steel balls. I had never actually used it before, because to be honest a victim of this evil instrument would never be rid of the scars and the mutilation. Today however that did not matter.

It would shred her skin into mulch.

The scene was silent save for the quiet moans from my Little Girl, now a constant backdrop to the light rustling of the leaves on this Gran Canaria mountainside. Blood ran from the nails in her hands, down her arms and onto her breasts, with the gash in her scalp releasing a crimson rivulet over her forehead and down her cheek to drip from her chin. The effect was already breath-taking.

Red positioned herself in front of her lover and pulled back her arm.

“Head up slut, avoid the barbs,” why I had decided to offer ‘helpful guidance’ I had no idea. But it mattered not, because my Little Girl ignored me. In fact, she did exactly the opposite and so, as Red lashed the first stroke high across her left shoulder, the slut dropped her head, the barbs raking across her cheek and tearing a deep trench like cut into her face.

“Fuck!” Red was shocked. The slut looked down at us both with the torn flesh hanging from her face, blood oozing out. And she smirked.

She fucking smirked.

I loved her so much.

“Continue,” I said, as Red turned to me, took a deep breath and struck hard across the slut’s breasts. The stroke was hard, and accurate, lashing across each firm mound, tearing the nipples, gouging the skin from her body. The shock of this lash made my Little Girl jerk, her head flying back as she looked to the sky in an almost biblical manner before her eyes rolled upwards into her head, the whites momentarily staring back at us until she calmed, her head dropping, her, now heavy-lidded, eyes staring ...

Red took aim once more.

With the next stroke my Little Girl’s head fell back flew back before falling once more down to her chest as her toned, flat stomach bore the brunt, and she cried out. Pleading, yelling, begging to an invisible source, but all she shouted for was strength …

Fucking ‘strength’ … that was all she asked for. Not asking for mercy, no begging for it to stop … just strength. Fucking hell. My darling Little girl

The slut was already bleeding profusely. Her body a mass of red stripes and rivulets streaking her skin along with the ripped and torn flesh that adorned her bound beauty.

Red paused. Three strokes with this whip had been devastating. We left it until the manic writhing of the slut had calmed.

It was quiet here on the mountainside. But in amongst the peace I heard very specific things. The rustling of a slight breeze in the leaves of nearby trees. The heavy breathing from Red, acknowledging how much effort had been needed just to deliver three lashes with this heavily barbed whip.

“Again,” I said. And Red did as she was asked to do.

A fourth lash struck the slut’s abdomen and thighs ... the involuntary grunt which escaped her lips as the blow fell was glorious. The sheer impact of the barbed flogger on her body forced the air out of her lungs, and her grunts became louder and more pained as the savage whipping continued.

When my Little Girl’s strength left her, and her body finally hung limp from the tree, I stopped the beating. The sun was warm, the slut was covered in blood, mixed with a shining sheen of perspiration, that gathered and trickled down her sides, under her exposed breasts, and along her legs. Torn flesh was hanging in sliced, bloody lengths from her body.

My erection was raging, and I felt that I might actually ejaculate without touching myself, such was the intensity of my lust.

I couldn't stand the arousal any more, and I turned to Red and said "I have to fuck.”

Red nodded, knowing my meaning. Maybe she felt the same.

Our bodies met in a frenzy of desire, both gazing up at the slut at the same time. I saw my Little Girl watching through the slits that her eyes had become. Blood from the cheek gash dripped from her chin, joining the staunched flow from her scalp. She had already lost a lot of blood, but there was much more to go.

Red slipped off her short beach skirt and with it her bikini bottoms. It took me seconds to expose my erection, and in only seconds more I had entered her. She was wet, ready for me. Immediately. I was rock hard and plunged inside, impaling her.

We both turned our heads to watch the slut suffering on the tree as we fucked on the grass. I timed my thrusts to various movements of my battered Little Girl ... breathing... muscle contractions, gasps and whimpers and when she finally gave a huge cry of frustration and agony, I exploded in an orgasm that was so intense I momentarily lost all sense of where I was.

 

[Peony]

I fucking love this! I am so glad you are doing this to me!!!

 

[nicole]

I fucking love this! I am so glad you are doing this to me!!!

you are wonderfully beautiful Peony in suffering, consented

 

[Peony]

JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 6 Chapter 41

That drive. My bare backside on the leather seat, cold. My hands tied behind.
Glancing at the passing countryside. Cyclists in lycra. A runner.
Half-completed thoughts. Nothing quite finishing itself off.
Butterflies.
Like before an exam.
Thinking that it won't start. Clock ticking. Knowing it will.
Butterflies.

And then we are there.
It really is now.
Here.
He tears the t-shirt open. My breasts feel the cool air, nipples harden.
Butterflies.
She cuts the tie. I rub my hands.
Now.

He orders me.
I do as he says.
Into the woods. Like before. But so different.
My belly trembling. Biting my lip. The wonderful thrill of fear. I just don't know what will come next. But I know I will be killed.

Butterflies.

Bite harder.
Here now. In a little clearing.
He tears the shirt of me. Naked. Beautifully naked.

Breathe. Slowly. Breathe.

“I’m ready mister,”

I said it. I said it. Ready. I am. Scared, excited. Ready. To do what he says.

Stand on that. Raise your arms.
I do what he says. I bite my lip.

Breathe. Slowly. Breathe.
It's starting. The examination paper is in front of me. I'm about to turn over the page. Breathing juddering.

Breathe slowy. I tell myself. Slowly.

A hammer. Nails. For me.
A shower of pain. Rattling over me. Blood running down my wrists and arms and over my tits and down my side. A trickle. Blinded by the pain.

Again!

Breathe!
I can't!
Breathe!!!!

Gasp for air. Try to slow myself. Breathe slowly! Slowly!

I can't! Gasping and blowing. Panting for breath. Banging my head back on the tree.
FUCK!!!! This hurts so fucking much!

Thoughts won't glue together. Can't...

She's there. So fucking lovely. The whip. The one with barbs. Fuck I want it!

Oh my fucking god! My face! FUCK!!!! Blood. I hurt!!!!
I want it to... NO! I want it!

I don't want it to stop. I want it!

Again!

Breathe.

Can't!

Breathe. Make myself. Slow. Blow it out. Slow. Breathe.

My tits! My fucking belly. She's ripping me up! FUCK!!! YES!!! FUCK!!!! YES!!!
I hurt so fucking much!!! FUCK!!!

Remember to breathe! That's all you have to do!!! BREATHE!!! Give me fucking strength! Let me breathe! I have to breathe! I don't want to fucking faint!

BREATHE!!!

My fucking belly!

I feel the blood running down me. Over my pussy, down my legs. FUCK!!!!

Breathe... slow it down. Breathe. Own every breath. Drink up the pain. I want it. Drink it. Breathe!

FUCK! Yes! I want this so fucking much!

Breathe!

Stare through the branches. Blue blue sky. Nothing but sky. Look at the ground. Look over my ripped-up body. Look up at my fucked up hands. I hurt so fucking much! I HURT!!!!

Breathe!

Breathe!

They fuck. They fuck. They fuck.

Breathe!

 

[Fossy]

It is your time sweet Little Girl ... we will deliver ...

 

[Fossy]

JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 6 Chapter 42

THE END - PART 1​

“Fucking hell Red, just look at her …”

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” The slut’s friend and lover replied. I could not bring myself to say anything as the flame-haired girl and I lay in the grass, post coital, at the foot of where my perfect, lovely, once-in-a-lifetime Little Girl, was already dying.

“We have to see it through mister,” Red added, sensing the doubt that still pervaded my mind.

I knew what we had to do. As we lay there the slut let out another feral-like cry. I turned to the girl laid next to me, who had also become my lover.

“We finish this without a problem, right?”

Red smiled and nodded. “We can mister, I told you already. We booked separate flights and the apartment is in your name only. So, no one knows she is with us. I stayed with at her ma and pa’s once, so they know my name but have no idea where to find me. They will know she went to Gran Canaria of course from her credit card, but without any ‘complaint’ being filed, she will simply be ‘filed away’ as a missing person – an adult who doesn’t want to be found. No one else will know except for you and me, mister.”

She made it sound so simple.

“Take off your top Red.” As I slipped off my shorts and toed off my canvas pumps, she looked quizzically at me.

“We are likely to get blood all over us from now on, and so we can wrap the body in the sheet and bury it at sea and then wash the blood from our skin before we leave …”

Red smiled, understanding my thinking.

A pensive moment came over me. I had said the word ‘body’, which took me to a place in my head where my Little Girl was no more.

Fuck! I felt the emotion well up once more. It was now or never.

It had to be now!

Naked we approached the tree once more.

Taking rope I began to tie one end securely around the slut’s right knee. The touch on her body seemed to jerk her back in to some sort of life. I took the rope around the back of the tree, pulling her knee with it. When I had tied the other side to the opposite knee, my Little Girl’s thighs were obscenely, yet beautifully, spread. She was groaning anew because her position now meant that her feet had come up from the stump and her entire body was now being held up only by the nails in her hands, which had begun to bleed again.

“Look at her,” Red stood back while I worked but now I joined her.

My Little Girl was magnificent. Hands nailed, bloody, torn body writhing, head lolling and her eyes rolling.

“Stunning,” was all I had to say before returning to the tree.

“Hold her by the waist please,” I issued my instructions to the flame haired girl. “Despite her failing strength, this will make her wild.”

I took the hammer and a nail. Picking up her left leg by the calf, bending her knee outwards, I placed the sole of her foot flat against the tree trunk.

I loved the feel of her foot in my hand. My Little Girl, I loved her so much.

The foot bones, around the Navicular and the Cuboid, were thick, and that was where this nail was heading.

Unlike when her hands were nailed, as I pressed the steel tip against her flesh there was no tension in her body. No whispered words of encouragement from my Little Girl. I glanced up to see her red streaked, torn face glowing with a sheen of perspiration, while she groaned and strained with every muscle of her young form.

With a sweep of my arm the hammer arced towards the tree and came down with a dull thud against the head of the nail.

Instantly the metal pierced the soft flesh, rupturing the skin in a small shower of crimson blood, pushing through into the bone. I hammered again and small bones splintered as the nail forced its passage through the foot, where it was stopped by the wood of the tree.

“NNNNNeeeaaaaarrrrrrhhhhh!” my Little Girl grunted, a sound of torment beyond any she had uttered thus far. Her young body spasmed and she reared against the trunk, fighting for freedom from the pain and finding none as Red held her tightly.

Heartbreaking.

I heard the slut’s friend and lover gasp as once again the force of my Little Girl’s writhing pushed them together. But another hammer blow and the left foot was nailed to the tree.

Then the next one. Both feet. An agonising position.

THWACK!

“AAAAAARRRRRRHHH! Nggghhooooo” came the slut’s scream, a loud, bestial explosion.

The nail had pierced her right foot now and was pushing into the tree. Her whole body seemed to be drawn into the agony of her mutilation. My Little Girl, thrashed her body as far as the nails and rope would allow, her strength now seemingly restored by the extremity of her pain. Her tears flowed freely as she fought for breath.

She might want this, she does want this, but her physical body wasn’t giving up so easily.

Standing back I signalled for Red to join me, and together we looked up at the grotesque beauty that now hung before us. Her body fully nailed through hands and feet to the tree that would become the scaffold for her execution … her glorious death.

She wanted it. We wanted it. It would happen.

“She’s hurting,” I said to the flame-haired girl. “See how she struggles to breathe properly now that we have stretched her body like this.”

The Little Girl was attempting to drag herself up the tree by straightening her legs. But the effort required was too much, and apart from dragging her naked back against the gnarled tree trunk, she was not helping her cause at all. Gradual suffocation had begun, but that would not be how the slut would die.

Then the flow of urine began. Legs wide, pussy open and the slut pissed herself, the golden stream arcing from her body to fall on the ground before her. We watched until she finished … not that my Little Girl had any control over what she was doing anymore.

“Vibe her,” I commanded Red. “One last climax, while she still can.” The words fuelled my lust once more, but my late-middle-aged cock was not ready to stiffen again, not yet.

The slut’s lover took the vibe, with the large bulbous head, battery fully charged, and slowly moved it around the inside of my Little Girl’s thighs.

Even in her state of extreme suffering I saw her body judder and the desperation that underpinned her attempts to breathe, change cadence just a little.

Fucking hell, this was something.

I stood and watched until Red had firmly planted the head of the vibe inside the slut’s pussy, her pliant labia, exposed fully due to the splayed nature of her thighs, had wrapped securely around the tool of her impalement, helping to send waves of potential pleasure through into her, as yet, unharmed clitoris.

I climbed the ladder, fishhooks in hand, toughened, plastic coated twine already threaded through them.

I ascended to the level where my eyes were level with the slut’s. There I paused, she turned and looked at me. Bubbles of saliva were now being blown through her slightly parted lips, she clearly had no energy to do anything else.

Then something amazing happened. She somehow opened her mouth just a little more and whispered, “Th … thank y … you mist … er …”, and a solitary tear freed itself from her red and wet eyes and rolled down her blood-stained cheek …

It was beautiful. She was beautiful and I felt the reciprocal tear fall from my eye.

I leaned across and touched my lips to hers. Was it a kiss? Not really, she wasn’t responsive enough to call it that. But I was able to touch her once more and it meant the world to me.

As I looked at her, her head now dropped back onto her chest, the vibe whirring away making her shudder, I reached for the nipple on her right breast. The firm mound had already been ripped by the barbs on the whip, but the nipple had remained intact.

I pinched it between the thumb and forefinger of one hand while pushing the barbed hook through the teat. It should have been agonising in its own right, most probably it was, but my Little Girl gave no more than a grunt … her body now beginning to shut down.

As the hook punctured the nipple the slut shuddered again, and then groaned as her hips pushed out. She was climaxing. Experiencing one final orgasm at the hands of her lover … her friend … it was the right thing.

It wasn’t explosive, the slut would not have the energy for that. But cum she had, and as I pushed the second hook through her other nipple she cried out, the anaesthetising effect of having her body sexually stimulated now over, and her ability to feel the torment returned. Her distress was growing.

I pulled the twine as far as I could, stretching her nipples, pulling her breasts with them, and I secured it to a nail driven into the ground, leaving her body pulling away from the tree. From here on in, breathing would be virtually impossible.

I saw Red staring at the horrific tableau that we had constructed. Beautiful gore. Beatific almost in its appearance.

For several long minutes we just watched as my Little Girl’s breathing became more shallow, virtually non-existent, the short exhales becoming less and less frequent.

“We need to finish it.” I said eventually.

Red nodded.

 

[Peony]

Oooh... I will dream about this tonight... and tomorrow....mmmmm..... XXX

 

[Peony]

JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 6 Chapter 43

THE END - PART 2​

I hurt. I hurt. I hurt so fucking much.
I so want this hurt.

Breathe. Slowly.

Make the hurt last.
It's so fucking bad. It hurts so fucking much.

I try. I can't. I gasp. I push out breath and spittle. I try. I must try.

Make it last. Slowly. Make this wonderful beautiful hurt last.
I must breathe slowly. I must breathe slowly.

They are standing there, half-naked. Both of them,
She's unimaginably gorgeous.
Her beautiful face. Her red hair about her sweet cheeks. Her half-open lips saying something to Him. Her breasts. Her painted breasts.
The two of them. The celebrant and his acolyte at this Blood Mass. She whispers something to Him.

And now they start.
It's almost the end.
I know it is.
I want to die. But not yet. Now I want to feel every moment of hurt and pain.

Breathe. Slowly.

He ties my legs and draws them up. My fucking hands are screaming at me. I am in so much agony. I am hurting so terribly. I love this so much.

He takes my foot. He feels my foot against the tree. He tells her to hold me. Around my hips. Her hands on me.

“NNNNNeeeaaaaarrrrrrhhhhh!”

Breathe! I can't!!! Gasp! Breathe! I can't! My body thrashes against the tree. My lacerated back against the tree

“AAAAAARRRRRRHHH! Nggghhooooo”

I can't breathe! I'm swamped by the pain rushing up to my heart. Drowning. I hurt so much. I hurt so much!

I'm nailed.

I open my tightly-shut eyes.

I gaze at them.

He speaks to her. She comes to me. I hear the sound. My head is throbbing. I feel it. I feel it and it's so fucking good. It's so fucking good.

He's next to me.

I whisper. I can't speak. I whisper.

“Th … thank y … you mist … er …”

I mean it. I am so glad this is happening to me. I hurt so fucking much. And I'm burning. My clit's burning. I am so fucking lucky.

And now. And now. My fucking nipples. I see Him. Fish hooks. Fucking fish hooks. Laced through me. I hurt so fucking much!

And now. Pulling me by my tits. Pulling me away from the tree. Pulling my body forward. Pulling me against the nails. Pulling me by my nipples.

I hurt beyond hurt. I hurt so fucking much.

And they are standing. Gazing at me. Half-naked. The two who are killing me. Gazing at the obscenity that used to be me. My bloody, wrecked body pulled in all directions. A bloody angel. They stare at me. They stare at me so they can remember me.

Breathe. Slowly.

Remember.

I remember floating, between his legs. Floating in a bubbling tub. Floating.
I remember the dark cabana.
I remember the cell. The rack. The water.
I remember the nails that He crucified me by in the forest.
I remember sitting in the back seat of his car, a foil blanket over my whipped, soaking body.
I remember seeing Her. Kissing Her.
I remember Him. Text. Reply.
I remember my wood. Naked in my wood. My public place. My nakedness and my tree. My whipping. My first.
I remember my bed. My body. Touching the tips of my breasts and my clit. Gently touching.
I remember the school trip to the Gallery. And St. Eulalia dead in the snow. And wondering why she was so unmarked after the soldiers had de-breasted her.
I remember my Church and the scent of dust and incense and the Creed and the Priest's look lingering a little to long as I raised my face to him and took the Body and Blood into my rosy mouth.
I remember the beach in summer with friends. And my childish swimming costume striped white and blue and letting the rollers drag me up over the pebbles and the feel of the sea on my back and the pebbles on my body and going home and looking at the grazes on my belly and on my budding breasts.
I remember climbing the ropes at school and hanging just by my hands and the feeling as something special washed over me.
I remember... I can;t remember. My memories are shattering into a million broken shards. Pieces of me. Falling away.

I don't remember any more. There isn't time to remember anything more. Remembering is for the living. Remembering isn't for me anymore. I'm already half a ghost. I'm already more than half-dead.

Breathe. Slowly.

Make it last. Make the hurt last.

Breathe. Slowly.

Draw out every last bit of hurt.

Breathe. Slowly.

Feel every last moment of agony. Live every moment without memory. Just the hurt. The hurt which is so bad and so beautiful.

I gaze at them.

I can't see anything anymore. I can only see darkness.

I can't hear anything.

I'm dying. I know I am.

I can just feel the pain. Seering through me. The awful, delicious, terrible, beautiful pain. The hurt I have always wanted.

Breathe. Slowly.

I can hardly breathe. I can hardly breathe.

Draw it out. Take it all. I hurt so much. I hurt so much. I hurt so much.

 

[Fossy]

Your race will soon be run Little Girl and your journey will be over ...

 

[Fossy]

JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 6 Chapter 44

THE END - THE FINAL PART​

I looked at Red, she looked at me. We nodded in mutual understanding, before each taking a knife from the bag. I picked the one with the serrated edge … I would need it.

“You cut her thighs and stomach, go deep but no more than an inch or two, don’t kill her just yet.”

The naked Red nodded. She was committed to this and did not hold back. Her stoicism at being party to this act very evident as she touched the blade to my Little Girl’s stomach and began to pull it across the flesh.

The slut didn’t scream, but she gasped and squirmed a little as Red pushed harder and deeper leaving a deep cut that immediately poured with blood. But as the pain signals reached her dying brain my Little Girl rent the air with a piercing cry that manifested her suffering.

It broke my heart and yet perversely filled it with joy.

I climbed the ladder once more. This time there was no recognition when I reached my Little Girl’s face. No whispered words, no touch of our lips. She was almost gone. Out of it as a bodily judder signified yet another cut being made in her flesh down below me, audible cries now seemingly beyond her capability.

I took her furthest breast, her left, and held it in my hand, and squeezed it hard, a brief expulsion of breath the only response from my Little Girl. I applied the serrations to the still firm flesh and began to cut. I sliced as if I was cutting into a joint of meat, which of course I was. A prime joint … a joint that I loved so much.

Slowly the breast came away, and the tightened twine from the hook in the nipple from that severed body part, fell away with it.

The slut’s body now just juddered, naturally anaesthetised from the shock of this brutal torture. Her cries no more. Her screams long gone, along with the energy to create them. But still she breathed, just. She was not yet gone.

Moving to the nearest breast, the one that remained on her body, I began to cut. As the blood lines appeared around my cut, a surgeon’s cut, and began to seep then ooze with crimson liquid, the second breast began to fall away in my hand.

Blood poured from the wound as I pulled back towards the ladder, then the second mound was loose, and falling. Her breasts, both on the ground beneath us, the fish hooks still embedded in the erect nipples, her body, or what was left of it, no longer pulling away from the tree.

She sagged, still … unmoving. I too was shocked at the graphic nature of what I had just done, but I had the presence of mind to check her pulse.

“It’s still there, Red she’s still with us … Red … RED!”

I looked down at the flame haired girl, now splattered with her lover’s blood, who was staring up, the knife, dripping with the slut’s life essence, in her hand, and she was sobbing.

“Red get me the fucking gas blow torch NOW!”

I had to staunch the bleeding from these wounds if we wanted her to survive a few more minutes. No time for professional skill, no clamps, or nursing staff available, just an old fashion flame to cauterise the wound.

Red reacted thank goodness, and in seconds I was releasing a flame onto the bleeding skin and tissue that had once been where her breasts resided.

My Little Girl was totally out of it. No reaction to her body being mutilated and now burned.

We had to finish this.

I descended the steps.

“We need to end this Red.”

She nodded. Mute. Both of us dripping in the blood of my Little Girl.

I took a small tube of smelling salts, ‘Nose-Tork’ … powerful … and the third knife … a savage hunting knife, with a razor’s edge.

I looked at Red. She knew what happened now. We had planned the end … agreed it beforehand and now it was time.

Together we approached the tree once more. I touched the blade to the slut’s open pussy, still sticky with her juices and remnants of urine. I moved the point of the blade to her clit, then slipped it lower, blade up, into her pussy.

I pushed and ripped upwards. The cut was true. The slut opened up, her internal organs spilling out. Her lifeblood flowed. I wrenched the knife free from her split liver and dragged it out through the torn spleen. This was the end.

I looked at Red. She looked at me.

I climbed the steps. She stood on the stump.

Our three faces were at the same height. I held the Nose-Tork under the nostrils of my slut and prayed for a response, no matter how small. Miraculously a very small breath appeared in a slight bubble emanating from the small gap in her lips.

“She’s still with us,” her friend and lover whispered through the sobs she was trying to stem so that she could speak.

I nodded.

Placing my hand at the back of the slut’s neck I rested my head on her shoulder. In seconds Red’s head lay the same way on other side of my Little Girl, and her left arm came around my shoulder.

We stood together, the three of us for the final curtain, all covered in the same blood, grotesquely bonded.

I could feel her pulse …

I thought of the time I first saw my Little Girl in the pub … a beautiful, vibrant, laughing girl …

I could feel her pulse …

The times in the woods, the village hotel, the car journeys to the station in Leeds …

I could feel her pulse …

Then in my mind’s eye I saw her tied in the hospital basement and the cells at Bridewell … then we were making love, having dinner, shopping for a new dress …

I could feel her pulse …

I love you my darling, sweet, gorgeous Little Girl … words I said inside my head for I could not speak.

The dam of my own tears now burst and I too began sobbing … I was losing her …

And then we were here, in San Agustin. In the sunshine, a holiday with the girl who I now knew to be the love of my life. A holiday like no other has been, or will ever be … my darling, sweet Little Girl.

Momentarily she gasped, the slut … I glanced to the side so that I could witness this shocking finale to her young life, and saw her eyes open wide … her jaws slacken … and then she slumped as every last ounce of vitality ebbed away.

Now there was no pulse … she was gone.

I cried. Red knew too and she cried.

We held onto her and to each other.

Blood covered our naked bodies. Three blood covered lovers. For ever.

Our Journey was over.

THE END OF ACT 6

THE END OF THE JOURNEY​

 

[Fossy]

May you Rest in Peace my gorgeous Little Girl ...

 

[Fossy]

It is over. Our journey is run. My Little Girl lived out her fantasy. I want to say a huge thank you to those of you that joined us on this amazing journey ... whether you were with us every step of the way or just for some of it ... we appreciated your inspirational comments and support so much.

Once the dust has settled on this final chapter we will post an afterword, an epilogue to let you know what happened to the surviving characters ...

But for now as the final curtain on my sweet Little Girl's journey, we will leave you to read and (hopefully) enjoy.

@Peony and @Fossy xx

 

[Peony]

Thank you. In the end I was a good girl, wasn't I?

 

[Peony]

May you Rest in Peace my gorgeous Little Girl ...

I'm so pretty. That's how you will remember me. So very pretty. Such a pretty pretty face. XXX