Hedda’s beheading 4.2 (19)

Hedda found his vehicle parked up the unpaved trail. She pulled behind it and got out. “Jonathan?” But there was no response.

She looked inside, but he did not appear to be waiting for her in his vehicle. He must have gone on ahead. Hedda did not mind.

He’d messaged her with important news. She believed he’d finally made the decision to divorce his wife Lorissa so they could be married. That had to be the special news he was going to tell her.

She walked down the path, but she did not see him anywhere. Then she heard a sound from somewhere in the woods. “Jonathan?” Then she set off in that direction.

She could not be any happier. She was proud of his decision to finally get out from under the thumb of his bullying bitch of a wife. They’d fallen in love and now they could marry without her interference.

“Jonathan?” Then she thought she heard something up ahead. She quickened her pace.

She was so excited. All those days and nights of meeting discreetly were now over. She would no longer have to hide their relationship. That bitch Lorissa could just eat her heart out. She didn’t deserve him anyway.

She heard the crackling of twigs off to her right. “Jonathan?” Then she headed off in that direction.

What was he doing? Why wasn’t he answering? Was he refraining from calling out because he was preparing something special?

She heard a loud thump. So she turned and headed off in that direction. Surely he was close now.

“Jonathan? I’m here! I received your text, darling! Why won’t you show yourself?”

She emerged in a small clearing surrounded by trees. She could see the edge of a ravine several yards away. But there was still no sign of her beloved.

An object in the middle of the clearing caught her eye. She approached what looked like the stump of a tree trunk sticking up out of the ground. It was a large block, having been placed there by human hands. An axe was sticking out of the top.

“Jonathan?” She looked all around, but he did not present himself. Her excitement bled away, only to be replaced with confusion as well as a growing unease.

She heard movement and turned to look. A burly man was approaching. She did not recognize him.

She took a nervous step backward. Then she turned to rush off in the opposite direction. That’s when she saw another male coming at her.

She looked at them both. Their appearance was striking. She looked at one and then the other, concluding they could easily pass for brothers.

“About time you got here, slut. My brothers and I have been waiting for thirty minutes!”

She turned to see Lorissa approaching from yet another direction. The bitch had a grim expression on her face. Hedda instantly suspected trouble.

Where was Jonathan? Why wasn’t he here? What was going on?

She suddenly felt icy fear grip her heart. That bitch hadn’t done something to her Jonathan, had she? She suddenly began to fear for his welfare.

The three family members converged on her position. Hedda was tempted to run. But the dress she was wearing was not conducive for a mad dash back to her vehicle.

“Where’s Jonathan? What have you done to him?”

“He’s home where he belongs,” Lorissa declared angrily as they walked up to her. That’s when one of the brothers grabbed her arms. She let out a yelp as they were pulled roughly behind her back.

“What’s this all about? What are you doing here?”

“I summoned you here, bitch,” Lorissa told her. “You’re never going to see my husband again. Understand?”

“You can’t stop us from seeing each other!” Hedda declared proudly. “We’re in love!”

“I think you’re missing the point, you stupid bitch. I mean ‘you’re never going to see my husband again’.”

She let out a yelp as the one brother finished tying her arms tightly behind her back. Then he started to undress. Hedda let out a cry of alarm when the other brother started removing his clothes as well.

“Wait! What are you doing?”

“I promised them they could have their way with you.”

“You what?? You PROMISED THEM?? You BITCH! Over my dead body!”

“I did not specify whether you would be living or not.” Then she angrily pulled Hedda’s dress down off her shoulders, ripping it open and exposing her tits.

“You bitch! You can’t treat me like this! Jonathan will find out!”

“He will never know. After this day you will simply disappear out of his life forever.”

“You can’t stop me from seeing him!”

“Oh can’t I?”

Lorissa angrily pushed her to the ground. Hedda let out a cry as she got to her knees. That’s when the angry wife forced her head down onto the block.

“You bitch! You can’t do this to me!”

Hedda rose up onto her knees. Lorissa pushed her back down. Hedda rose up again, only to be forced back down.

She lay there panting for breath. She saw the brothers with their erections. Both cocks seemed thick and long.

She looked at Lorissa with hatred in her eyes. “Your brothers can rape me all they want, bitch. But it won’t change anything!”

With a nod from his sister the one brother moved over to the block. He pulled the axe free. Then he proceeded to step around Hedda.

She looked up at him in growing fright. Then she started to lift her head up again. Lorissa forced her back down until her neck was stretched out on the block.

“What’s going on?” she gasped, her fear causing her voice to rise in pitch.

“You’re never going to see my husband again,” Lorissa repeated ominously.

Hedda turned and saw the brother hefting the axe as though taking aim. That’s when it occurred to her what was about to take place. They weren’t really going to…

“NO! PLEASE!”

“You’re never going to see my husband again. Understand?”

“Ok – ok; I’m never going to see him again!”

She started to lift her head up. Lorissa pushed her back down until her neck was stretched out across the block. Hedda saw the brother heft the axe. Then he brought it down hard.

“NOOOOO-!” Then the axe landed with a loud thump, silencing her forever.

Hedda’s head flew off the block. At the same time her body jerked upright, blood spurting out of her severed neck. She was upright for a moment before pitching over onto her side, her neck stump spurting copious amounts of crimson as she hitched and convulsed in her death throes.

She stared in horror as her head was picked up. That’s when Lorissa’s face swung into view, a triumphant smirk on her face. “Now do you understand when I tell you you’re never going to see my husband again? Now I believe Franz has something he wishes to share with you.”

Hedda was horrified to see the other brother bend her headless body at the knees before sticking his dick inside her still spasming cunt. Then she was turned until she was face to face with the other brother’s cock. He pushed it through her mouth until it came out through her severed neck as he began fucking her skull.

“When you’re done with her, boys, you can toss her remains into the ravine. I have no further need of her. Help yourself.” Then Lorissa turned and headed off toward the trees, satisfied the bitch would never be seeing her husband again.

(Written for Hedda May 29 ’19 by riwa)

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Riwa’s Stories at Patreon 0 (0)

Just a quick note on joining/payments

I have changed the billing system for 2021. Now when you join, you will immediately be billed for the current months rewards. Afterwards, you will be billed the first of each new month for the rewards of that new month.

This also means if you change levels, you will immediately be billed for the level you increase to. For instance, if you increase from $3 to $7 on January 10th, you will immediately be charged the $4 difference for receiving January rewards at the $7 level. Then on Feb 1, you will be charged $7 for that month’s rewards. Note: If you reduce your payment, you will not receive a refund for the difference. Your reduced level will be reflected in your payment for the next month.

This will not affect current patrons. You will continue to be billed the 1st of each month for that month’s rewards. This will only affect new patrons or those who wish to up their pledge to a higher level.

Thank you so very much for being my patrons. I look forward to writing more entertaining stories for you during the coming year. With any luck (and self discipline), perhaps I can even work on completing some older story lines.

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Dec 31, 2020 Update 3.7 (3)

I see I haven’t done one of these in a couple years. I’ve been commenting on most things in my Riwas Reads and Patreon posts. So I thought I would catch people up here for those who are interested… a two-year review of sorts.

I’ll start with the rating system. There was a recent server change where my library is hosted. Something must have happened because the newest ratings are not showing up. I apologize for this. I’m not fully literate on how this system works. But I’ll see if it’s possible to bring the rating system back online. My thanks to those who have left votes and thumbs up or down over the years.

I mentioned in one of my Patreon updates I was in the market for another vehicle. My pending insurance bill motivated me to go out looking again with mom. I found a small compact that seems to work for me. I’ll be making small payments over 5 years, but I hope to pay more and narrow that down to 3 years or less. I probably won’t take the long trips like I used to in years past. So hopefully this vehicle will last me for a while.

Mom and I have weathered the health storm that is affecting our country. We both wonder if she might have caught the bug a couple of months ago. She had symptoms and was not at her best. But she was not hospitalized as it was not necessary, and her symptoms were not serious. Taking a test after the fact seemed pointless. So we’re doing our best to keep our immune systems strong. I hope you are all doing well. I am encouraged to know the chances of it adversely affecting mom and I are actually smaller than my chances of developing a heart issue according to my doctor. Lol, thanks Doc! I think it is 8% developing a heart issue versus a number below 0.3% for the bug (or something like that).

My sister passed away back in February. She had heart and blood pressure problems. Sadly we were estranged, so we didn’t actually find out until we did a search online and found her obituary. It was a little sad we were not notified, but that might have been on her instructions. Perhaps they tried to contact us and missed us somehow. It’s always nice to give the benefit of a doubt. Thus, I hope your family situations are far better than how this turned out for mom and I.

I moved from one apartment to another in the middle of the year. The tenant below me was a heavy smoker, despite regulations against smoking indoors. It drifted up and kept making me sick. An apartment was vacated, and I was given the option of changing locations. It’s much nicer; I’m not breathing smoke anymore; and I’m in a daylight basement apartment, meaning it’s warmer in winter and cooler in summer. So I’m grateful.

Continuing my backtrack, I moved back to Montana last year when my rent was increased by $200. That was a 40% increase. I used that opportunity to move back to Montana to be closer to mom. I’m grateful I did it last year. I have no idea how complicated moving around from state to state might have been this year. So the timing of moving back last year worked out well. Mom has some minor health problems, but I think my being here has been really good for the both of us. There was a lot of worrying over 680 miles between us in years past. So now we don’t worry quite so much.

Oh, that biopsy I mentioned in my update of two years ago? They removed a lymph node and discovered I have no cancer. So apparently they got it all when they removed the melanoma. I go in frequently for skin checks to make sure no new ugly looking growths pop up where they don’t belong.

I mentioned cavities in my last blog post. I’m on a medical program where I’m going in regularly for my teeth. They are being cleaned on a regular basis, and any cavities that were recently discovered have been filled. I’m now trying to take care of my teeth with more frequent brushing and flossing. Bad habits are hard to break, but I think these new ones are coming along better than expected.

We’re monitoring my gallbladder. Apparently mine is not very good. I’ve had what I would call a couple of “sieges” (throbbing pain) and an all-out assault (that was painful). So I’m watching my diet and keeping track to see when it may be time to remove it. I’m hoping to hold out until this bug thing clears up and there will be less risk of infection should I go in to the hospital to have it removed.

I’m embarrassed by the number of stories I have unfinished. I wish to get back to some of them, but inspiration has stalled. So I’m trying something new. This December I’ve been working on one story in particular. Instead of leaving it alone after finishing a chapter, I move right on to the next part. I’m hoping I will get it finished despite the number of chapters it has blossomed into. If this works, I’ll try to complete other stories in a similar manner. And I’ll see if I can get back to some others I’ve stalled out on. I even hope to get to some older stories some of you have expressed a desire in seeing me finish or add more chapters to.

That’s enough for now. I think I hit all the high points. I appreciate you stopping by for a visit. It’s my fervent hope you can find some story here that appeals to you. In this time of great stress I wish to provide a little entertainment for you in the form of the written word.

I hope you are healthy, and your families are safe. My prayer is that you will find hope and peace in a world where that often seems sadly lacking. I have similar struggles, so it is a nice distraction for me to focus on putting out a good story for you. If one of my stories makes you smile, I feel I have accomplished something. I am grateful to be even a small part of bringing a little sunshine to your day.

Thank you so much for stopping by.

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Jamila 3.9 (16)

Note: a bonus short story inspired by a manipulated picture.

“Are you sure you really want me for this?”

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“Of course I’m sure. I just can’t believe you picked me is all.”

“Why not? Your name is Jamila, isn’t it? That means ‘beautiful’ in African and Arabic.”

“You know the meaning of my name? Damn! But you don’t really think I’m beautiful, do you? After all, there are so many other pretty girls out there.”

“But I chose you. I wouldn’t have chosen you if I didn’t think you weren’t beautiful. I just want you to know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Oh no; I really want to. So what do you want me to wear?”

“I like ‘em nude when I take my pictures. Does that bother you?”

“Not at all. I don’t mind getting nude. It’s just that…”

“What?”

“I don’t know if I’m beautiful enough.”

“You let me be the judge of that, ok? Do you want to change inside?”

“Oh no. I can do it right out here. I’m not the least bit shy. I’m just hoping you like what you see. I don’t want you to be disappointed. After all, I’m a little older than the others.”

“You can’t disappoint me, Jamila. When I saw you were available I picked you out of the bunch, remember?”

“Well… I don’t know… Ok; now I’m naked. So what do you think?”

“I think you’re gorgeous.”

“Really? You don’t think I’m too… bushy down below?”

“I like the natural look.”

“You don’t think my breasts are too small?”

“They look gorgeous, especially the way your nipples are sticking out.”

“I can’t help it. I guess I’m more than a little excited. Are you sure I’m pretty enough?”

“I told you I think you’re gorgeous. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me seeing you like that?”

“Really? Can I see?”

“You want to see?”

“Yes I do. You don’t have to be clothed to operate your camera do you?”

“No I don’t. Are you sure about this? I don’t want to offend you.”

“If I’m going to be naked for this then I think you should be naked too.”

“Ok. Let me take my clothes off. Now I’m warning you. Your beauty is making me, uh… are you sure you want me to take it all off?”

“Take it all off, baby. I want to see what you’re packing.”

“Ok, here goes…”

“Damn, you’re hard!”

“Of course I am. I’m hard because of how beautiful you are and what you’re going to be doing for me in the next few minutes.

“Aww, you’re making me blush. Ok; I suppose we’d better get serious about this. So how do you want me to do this?”

“Well, you have several choices.”

“What do the girls normally prefer?”

“Those who want to get into the spirit of things often like to have their wrists tied behind their back.”

“A little bondage, eh? Sexy… I like it. Let’s go with that.”

“Damn, honey. Your smile and your enthusiasm are both so incredibly sexy.”

“Are they? Aww, you’re making me blush again.”

“Ok, let me tie your wrists behind your back. Let me just get a little rope and, uh… gawd, what are you doing?”

“Just playing with the merchandise. *giggle* You don’t mind if I play with it, do you? Damn, you’re so fucking hard!”

“I can’t help it. It’s because you’re so fucking sexy and I’m really looking forward to this.”

“Mmmmm… I like how you’re twitching in my hand. I don’t suppose…”

“Don’t suppose what?”

“I don’t suppose I could suck it, could I? I kind of like the idea of blowing my executioner.”

“I don’t see any reason why not.”

“Good. Help me to my knees. Gawd, you’re so hard. Let me take it into my mouth. Mmmmmm.” *slurp slurp*

“Damn, baby. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

“Can you bring it down and put it around my neck? The noose I mean. Can I feel it while I’m sucking you? I want to get into character.” *slurp slurp*

“Oh, you’re already getting into character, honey. But ok. Let me just pull it down for you.”

*slurp slurp* “Mmmmmmmm. Damn, baby. That gave me such an erotic shiver when it touched my neck. I think I’m getting a little breathless now. So I’d better get back to sucking on this tasty piece of man meat. Mmmmmm.” *slurp slurp*

“Jamila?”

“Mmm-hmmm?” *slurp slurp*

“I think you’re going to make me cum.”

“Mmm-hmmm!” *slurp slurp*

“I’m giving you fair warning…”

“Mmm-hmmm!” *slurp slurp*

“If I don’t pull out I’m going to cum in your mouth.”

“MMM-HMMM!” *slurp slurp*

“Jamila, I… oh fuuuuuuck!”

“MMMMMMMMM! Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to see it? Too late; I swallowed it already.”

“No, that’s… damn, girl! You are a beautiful woman of many talents.”

“I just hope my best one is the dance I’m going to put on for you. I’m a little worried though because I’m not really a dancer.”

“Oh, don’t worry. The noose wrings a unique dance out of each and every woman. I’m betting yours will be special.”

“Well I think I’m ready. Help me up onto the stool, ok Then you can tie the rope off and I’ll step off for you so you can take all the pictures you want.”

“All the ‘sexy’ pictures, you mean.”

“Damn, baby. You’re making me blush again.”

2018 (written Aug 6 ’18 by riwa. Manip by Quidam Martin)

Posted in Asphyxia Stories | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

A Margot drowning story 4.5 (20)

“What took you so long? You were supposed to be here an hour ago!”

“I had a little trouble finding the place.”

“Seriously? I’m right here by the ocean.”

“So I see.”

“So tell me again about this thing I won.”

“You won a drowning contest.”

“A drowning contest. You’re serious, right?”

“Yeah, I’m serious.”

“So let me get this straight. A bunch of perverts held a drowning contest and I won?”

“Well, there were a bunch of contestants from Australia. It was a series of votes to determine the Australian Drowning Queen.”

“Sounds like something a bunch of testosterone-fueled guys would come up with. Who were these other chicks anyway?”

“Australian female celebrities.”

“Australian female celebrities?”

“In round one you beat Elle Macpherson 68% to 32%.”

“That’s no biggie. She’s getting kind of old, isn’t she?”

“In the quarterfinals you beat out Delta Goodrem 70% to 30%.”

“Is that so?”

“In the semi-finals you won over Miranda Kerr 56% to 44%.”

“They voted me over Miranda?”

“In the finals you beat Isabel Lucas 60% to 40%. Naomi Watts and Kylie Monique never even made it to the finals.”

“Really? You’re shitting me!”

“Nope.”

“You’re telling me I beat all those other bitches?”

“That’s right.”

“You boys have class.”

“Thank you.”

“So what happens now?”

“Now you star in your very own story.”

“My very own story?”

“Your very own drowning story to be precise.”

“So my sitting here in my bathtub is kind of ironic, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is. There were votes taken over the location to drown you in a story. The bathtub tied for third.”

“Tied for third? Tied with what?”

“A tank of glass. Some people want to read about you drowning in a tank.”

“Like an escape act gone wrong?”

“I suspect that’s what some of them were thinking. Others just want an unobstructed view of your drowning.”

“So what locations came in first and second?”

“First place was a pool with 33% of the vote. Second place was more of the equipment involved. Scuba took second place with 21%, although that’s not really a location. The tank and bathtub tied for third at 18%.

“I like the scuba idea. Did you know if I wouldn’t have gone into movies I probably would have ended up as a scuba instructor in the tropics?”

“I heard that was a desire of yours.”

“So you’re here to what… drown me?”

“…and then write about it; yes. Taking part in the experience and witnessing it will make writing about it a lot easier.”

“Is that so?”

“It certainly is.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Well, there’s always Isabel Lucas. She might make for a nice drowning story.”

“So let me get this straight. If I don’t want to drown, you’ll go pay Isabel a visit?”

“I can always tell her she won our contest. She might find that kind of exciting. Emma Watson, Scarlett Johansson and Karen Gillian all won the contests they were featured in.”

“They won contests too?”

“That right. And they didn’t have any complaints when their stories came out.”

“That’s because their lungs were filled with water, right? It’s a little hard to complain when your lungs are filled with water.”

“The guys certainly enjoyed reading about them drowning. And I suspect there were quite a few ladies who also enjoyed voting and reading about them.”

“And if I take part?”

“Your drowning will be featured along with the stories of those other ladies who won their contests. You’ll be in pretty select company.”

“Well, you certainly present an interesting proposition.”

“Does this mean you might be interested?”

“Well, I don’t know. I’m certainly not all that thrilled about drowning. But I’m not sure I like the idea of Isabel taking my place.”

“I don’t know her and I haven’t met her. So who knows? I suppose it’s possible she might put on a better drowning performance than you.”

“A better drowning performance than me? Oh really. I think you’re trying to goad me.”

“Is it working?”

“Maybe.”

“So you’re interested then?”

“I haven’t committed just yet. Besides, aren’t you supposed to drown me in a swimming pool?”

“That is the number one preference. But a story hasn’t been written about that yet. These things take time and people get busy. I thought I’d swing by and see what you had to say about the subject.”

“And right now I just happen to be naked in my bathtub.”

“A happy coincidence, wouldn’t you agree? I don’t think anyone would object if I wrote a third place story about you drowning in your bathtub. I think the first place story is still going to be written. This means you might be the only Drowning Queen winner who gets to star in two stories. And with the number of scuba enthusiasts out there it’s entirely possible you could end up starring in a third.”

“Three stories? About me?”

“Again, it all depends on your performance. People want to read good stories about drowning celebrities. They don’t want someone who’ll just close her eyes and fall asleep underwater. And they don’t want someone who can’t hold her breath longer than ten or twenty seconds either.”

“My abilities? Seriously? I got up to five minutes holding my breath for an underwater scene in Suicide Squad.”

“But this will be a drowning story.”

“For fuck’s sake; I’m an actress! I can do a drowning!”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

“You want to drown me right here in my bathtub?”

“That works for me if it works for you. Of course it depends on what type of story I can get out of it. There is such a thing as boring drowning stories, you know. I think the stories about those other three winners turned out pretty good.”

“So how do I make your story exciting? I’m naked, right? Isn’t that enough?”

“Not always. It depends on the struggle and the bubbles. Sometimes a little enthusiasm goes a long way. To be honest, a lot of guys get erections from a good drowning story.”

“And I suppose you’re one of those perverts, right?”

“Yes… especially if it’s an erotic story. The more erotic the better.”

“An erotic story? Are we talking about having sex here?”

“Not necessarily. I can do it by leaning over the side of the tub and pushing you under. Or I can get naked in the tub with you.”

“So if you got naked and joined me in here, that would get you aroused? Seems to me you’re getting aroused just standing there. I can see you’ve got a nice little bulge growing.”

“That’s because we’re talking about drowning you. Of course it doesn’t hurt seeing you naked in your bathtub. Does my getting aroused bother you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it should. Then again, the thought of my getting you hard does have a certain appeal. Call it a ‘woman thing’.”

“You ladies do like the idea of having that kind of effect on us.”

“So tell me. Are you getting hard because you’re thinking about drowning me?”

“I’m getting that way, yes.”

“Oh really? I think I’d like to see that.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re not getting bashful on me, are you? After all, you’re here to drown me; am I right? I’m the one who’ll be going under. If I’m naked, you might as well be naked too. So let’s see what you’ve got.”

I remove my belt and drop my pants. My six inch erection curves upward. Margot looks at it and smiles. Did I see something flash in her eyes?

“Not bad. Is that because you’re thinking about drowning me in my bathtub?”

“Yes it is. I’m thinking about holding you under and watching all the bubbles come out of your nose while you’re trying to hold your breath.”

“And if I want to come back up for another breath?”

“That would be up to me, wouldn’t it?”

“A man who likes to get right to the point. So you’d drown me just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“I don’t know. My lungs were really hurting when I worked at holding my breath for that underwater scene in Suicide Squad. A couple of times I felt a brief surge of panic. Drowning’s going to be ten times worse, am I right?”

“You’re not going to enjoy inhaling water, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I didn’t think so. I’m not so sure I want to go through with this.”

“That’s quite all right. I can always place a call to Isabel. She might be interested in the extra publicity.”

“Not so fast. I only said I wasn’t sure. Besides, there’s something about it that sounds kind of sexy.”

“So what shall we do?”

“Why don’t you strip out of the rest of your clothes and get into the tub with me? We’ll see what happens from there.”

“You’re not going to pull a one-eighty on me, are you?”

“Relax. When I ask you to get in the tub with me, I mean it. I’m not one of those broads who says one thing and then does the opposite. So what are you waiting for? A naked chick has just invited you to get into the tub with her!”

I smile as I remove my shirt and footwear until I’m nude. Then I step into the opposite end of her tub. My erection does not subside, certainly not with her looking at it. I see her eyes flash again.

“So how are you going to write this story? You broke in, caught me in my bathtub and drowned me?”

“You mean like this?”

I lunge forward and push her head under, catching her totally by surprise. Instantly she begins to struggle. Bubbles pour out of her nose as she fights against me.

She lets out a bubbly cry as her lungs heave. I wait until the very last moment before I let her back up. She bursts up gasping loudly for breath.

“What the fuck was that??”

“That was the intruder scenario. You get very little warning. That means you get very little time to get a good breath.”

“You could have warned me first!”

“I just said you get very little warning.”

“Asshole!”

She feels around in the water. Then she finds something growing out of my crotch and strokes it a little. “Your cock is really hard, isn’t it. Is it because you just tried to drown me?”

“Of course.”

“And if I drowned a little more willingly?”

“Well, right now I’m in the tub with you. I suppose that assumes some measure of consent. Can you imagine an intruder taking the time to remove his clothes before getting into the tub with you just to drown you?”

“I suppose that would be unrealistic.”

“It certainly would. My being naked in the tub with you implies some sort of consent or willingness on your part.”

“You mean the way I invited you into the tub with me?”

“Exactly.”

“So what are we talking here? Are we saying I invited you into my tub to drown me?”

“That could be an idea. Some guys like a forced drowning. Others like a woman who is consensual.”

“Consensual? Like she really wants him to drown her?”

“Maybe it’s a fantasy of his. Maybe it’s a fantasy of hers. Maybe it’s a fantasy they both share.”

“Women can have that kind of fantasy?”

“Some like freediving and some like scuba. Some like to imagine getting themselves into perilous situations. For some it can be a turn-on. And for some it’s the fear and excitement they might actually drown, even though they don’t want to or have no intention of drowning.”

“Sounds kind of crazy to me.”

“Does it?”

I suddenly push her below the surface again. She goes under unexpectedly, spewing up nose bubbles. That’s when she thrashes about in the water.

I push down hard on her shoulders, forcing her to the bottom. More bubbles come up as she struggles in my grasp. I hear a bubbly scream. Then I let her up.

She bursts up gasping loudly for breath. She gives me a dirty look. “Fucking hell! I thought you were going to drown me!”

“Was it scary?”

“You’re damn straight it was scary! I told you I thought you were going to drown me!”

“Did you find that exciting?”

“Hell no! But I can sure as hell tell you found it exciting! You’re really hard! Is it because you nearly drowned me?

“Of course.”

“Asshole!”

“You want me to get out? You want me to go try Isabel instead?”

“I didn’t say that. You just keep goading me, don’t you.”

“Well, I could just drown you and be done with it.”

“But you won’t; am I right? You want me to be willing; is that it?”

“Well, I am in the tub with you. Otherwise I would have to get out and work on that intruder scenario where I sneak up on you. We could do that instead if you’d prefer.”

“Well, you’re already in the tub with me. And I must admit I sort of like, uh…”

“…feeling how aroused I am by tugging on my erection?” There’s that flash in her eyes again.

“Is it… unusual for a drowning woman to feel some sort of… sexual excitement?”

“I’ve heard some women get turned on reading stories. Others get aroused imagining themselves in peril situations, just like I told you.”

“I kind of thought so.”

“Why do you ask? Are you becoming a little turned on by all this?”

“None of your damn business!”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

I suddenly lunge forward and push her head under again. This time I lie down flat on top of her. My hard cock presses up against her crotch.

She struggles and bubbles underneath me. I can tell I caught her by surprise again. But this time she manages to hold her breath a little longer.

I hump her with my erection. Bubbles start coming out of her nose as she really starts to struggle underneath me. I stay on top of her, looking down at her.

Her eyes widen as more bubbles spew out of her nose. I finally let her up. She comes up gasping.

“Fucking hell!”

She looks at me for a long moment. There’s something a little different in her eyes this time.

“What? What is it?”

“That thing about being aroused? I was starting to panic down there. Yet at the same time I was feeling this… this…”

“Yes?”

“I guess we might as well be honest with each other. You’ve been honest with me. So tell me. Do women sometimes cum while they’re drowning?”

“I’ve never asked a drowned woman if she orgasmed. But I would imagine the fear and arousal could mix into an orgasm if the sensations were strong enough.”

“Well, during my panic, those sensations were getting pretty damn strong. So tell me this. Have you ever fucked a woman underwater?”

“A couple times; yes.”

“Was it good?”

“Some say struggling to hold your breath adds to the intensity of the experience. I certainly experienced a release while fucking underwater.”

“And you’re going to drown me in my bath, is that right?”

“Well, that’s the plan. You’re already wet, naked and ready.”

“I was wondering…”

“About what?”

“That last time when you dunked me and humped me? I thought you were going to drown me. But the experience was so frightening, so terribly thrilling that I…”

“…that you what?”

“Could you… could we…?”

“What are you doing?”

I’m surprised when she climbs into my lap. I feel her grab my erection with her hand. Then she slowly works it into her tight opening until I feel the warmth of her womanhood massaging me.

She pants for breath. Then she looks me right in the eye. “How’d you like to take me under right now?”

I pause only a moment before I force her back under in a flurry of bubbles. I push her down as I submerge on top of her. Then I start thrusting good and hard.

She grunts up bubbles into my face as she fucks me back. Her enthusiasm surprises me. The idea of drowning this sexy woman with my cock inside her is incredibly arousing.

I keep her down until her lungs start to heave. I can feel her warm breasts press against my chest as she starts to struggle. Her pussy clenches even harder around my shaft as she loses more nose bubbles.

Her eyes start to open wide. I feel her chest heave against mine. I can tell her spasms are originating in her stomach.

I suddenly pull her up until we rise up together. She pants like crazy to catch her breath. I’m still inside her and can feel her squeezing me.

“Fucking hell!”

“Why? Was it scary?”

“Scary and… something else.”

“You called me a pervert, remember?”

“Perverts can be so… exciting sometimes.”

“Well?”

“Do you have the outline for a story in your head from our encounter?”

“Yes, I’m starting to get one now.”

“Do you want to drown me?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Do you want to fuck me as you drown me? Wait; you don’t have to answer that. I just felt your cock twitch inside me.”

“The water’s starting to get cool in here.”

“Yes… yes it is. So I think we should get started.”

“Get started?”

“Yes, damn you. I don’t know how you did it. But you convinced me.”

“I convinced you?”

“I got excited when you kept dunking me. I thought you were going to drown me. Each time I found it so damned exciting. Fucking hell!”

“I take it you don’t want me to go look up Isabel?”

“To hell with Isabel! Feeling your cock inside me while I was holding my breath did the trick. Now I want you to drown me as you fuck me. Hell, I might even orgasm while I’m drowning!”

“Are you sure?”

“Hell yeah; I’m sure! I want you to fuck me as you drown me! I want you to write a story about it. I want those other bitches that had stories written about them to eat their hearts out.”

“Well, this is not the primary story. It’s only a story for the third place votes.”

“I don’t fucking care. I want you to drown me with your cock inside me. You’re going to do it anyway, right? Gawd; I can feel you twitch inside me every time I ask you to drown me!”

“Are you sure? No take-backs on this.”

“I’m sure.”

“You realize you’ll probably change your mind partway through, don’t you? It will hurt like hell and you’ll want back up. That will be the best part.”

“The best part?”

“You’ll fight and thrash about and want back up in the worst way as your pussy milks a cum right out of me. Once you panic and your lungs scream for air, that’s all your mind will think about. All you’ll want is that next breath.”

“Fucking hell! Why does that sound so damn exciting? Tell me more!”

“Your lungs will be on fire as your chest heaves. Your mind will become obsessed with getting that next breath. My cock inside you might feel like a violation. Chances are that’s when you’ll lose control. The orgasm might come just before or just after you start to drown.”

“Fucking hell! You’ll keep me down until I drown, won’t you?”

“It wouldn’t be a drowning story if I didn’t keep you down until you drowned.”

“Fucking hell!”

She starts taking deep breaths. Then she gets this excited look in her eyes. I feel her squeeze my cock inside her.

“Fuck; let’s do this! I want you to fuck me as you drown me! Damn you; I’m so fucking horny right now! Let’s do this before I change my mind!”

I nod as I watch her take deep breaths. She’s still impaled on my erection. I can really feel her clenching. It’s almost as though she wants to cum right now.

She inhales deeply. Then I push her onto her back. Down she goes, her head fully submerged.

I begin to thrust nice and slow as I keep my head out of water. She grunts as she responds by fucking me back. I had no idea she might want to have sex while she drowned. There must have been quite an arousal taking place when I dunked her those other times.

I take my time, enjoying how tight she feels as she squeezes me. She moans and bubbles out of her nose. I pay close attention as I become even more aroused.

A minute goes by as I thrust in and out while I keep her submerged. I slowly fuck her through a second minute while getting all the air I need. By her third minute she starts to show some distress.

I notice little heaves in her chest as I thrust into her. She grunts and bubbles as she fucks me harder. Maybe she thinks I’ll let her up if she makes me cum. Or maybe she wants to cum and then get one last breath before she drowns. If only she knew she’s already breathed her last.

I feel her chest start to heave more insistently beneath me. She loses more bubbles until she no longer drifts upward. Then she starts to struggle. She wants back up.

I press my weight down on her, making sure her head stays submerged as I take a deep breath to join her. Her eyes widen in alarm as she begins shaking her head. At the same time I feel her womanhood clench like crazy.

We’re almost to four minutes when she starts to thrash about underneath me. I press down hard on her shoulders while I fuck her with violent enthusiasm. A moment later she clamps down tight and starts to shudder.

She loses all her breath out of her mouth and nose. I can tell she’s cumming. I’m almost there myself, grunting and bubbling as I fuck her hard.

Her lungs empty as she settles down from her orgasm. Then she tries to slither out from underneath me. That’s when she hitches and gurgles.

Her head shakes in horror. Then she goes into violent spasms as she thrashes about underneath me. Her pussy milks me until I find myself shooting my load deep inside her.

She bucks and shudders like crazy, trying to throw me off as she beats on me with her fists. Her chest keeps heaving as her stomach spasms. Then her convulsions lessen until she lies quietly on the bottom of her bathtub.

I see little muscle spasms as I slowly pull out. A wisp of my cream comes out with me. Three tiny bubbles swirl up out of her nostrils as she stares up at me in shock, her mouth gaping open.

I look down upon her as I enjoy the afterglow of our coupling. She remains motionless on the bottom of her bathtub, her lungs flooded. Another tiny bubble swirls out of her mouth.

I get to my knees and compose myself. I smile as I tell her, “I think that’s going to make a pretty good story, Margot.” She just stares back at me in vacant shock as though the ending wasn’t exactly what she’d anticipated.

But that’s ok, right? Because different stories have different endings.

2019 (written Jul 16 ’19 by riwa)

(Pictures found on the Internet and used as illustrations.)

Posted in Drowning Stories | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Riwa’s Stories at Patreon 0 (0)

Coming January rewards

Another Teri 5.0 chapter
Another Shelly in Cancun chapter
The conclusion to 3 in the Pool
Julie has an underwater video shoot
An experience of vore takes place in a motel room (with illustrations)
An addition to the ghost town hanging story
Back to Girl’s Night Out
More Joia
A story about The Ghost of the Mary Celeste (illustrated by JustPaul)
2 females are looking to “go for a swim” on Santamos Island
Two other stories inspired by pictures

November stories/rewards will fall off at the end of December to make room for January rewards.

Remember that vehicle I needed to replace? Receiving my bill for car insurance for the next six months speeded up my attempts to find another one before the due date. Mom and I went out and actually found a good used one. I have reasonable payments over 60 months, but over time I hope to reduce that to 40 if possible… perhaps pay it off even sooner. It gets better gas mileage than my last one, and it’s a front wheel drive. That will help if we get a lot of snow. I just wanted you to know so you’ll understand my gratitude when I tell you how much I appreciate having you as patrons. A sizeable portion of what I receive here will go toward payments.

Thank you so much. Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. And may 2021 be a whole lot better for all of us.

Posted in Riwas Reads | Leave a comment

Trading up (female vs male victims) 4.1 (35)

I learned while growing up. I learned from the best. I learned from my mother.

She married young. But she learned to trade up. After four marriages she had a ton of cash and could have any man she wanted.

I paid real close attention. I picked a nice guy for my first marriage. Stanley had a decent job and was a good provider. But after five years I learned he wasn’t going to amount to much.

He took out enough life insurance to pay off the mortgage and to provide for me. That’s when I made my move. Besides, I already had a guy named Steven in the wings I was seeing on the side. The only obstacle was my husband.

One day we went into our backyard pool for some fun. I wore my skimpiest bikini. Of course I let the material slide down so my breasts were exposed. He always was a tit-man.

We started having fun dunking each other. Then I became more aggressive. He always was a bit of a pussy.

I forced him down again and again. He struggled as I made him run out of breath. Each time I drove him under I was adding to his exhaustion.

It was such a turn-on forcing him down again and again. Sexy bubbles came up. By the time I made my move it was all too easy.

I forced him under and then climbed on top to ride him face down. He was too exhausted to fight me. That’s when he started hitching and gurgling underneath me.

It was so hot drowning Stanley that I experienced an unexpected orgasm. I was breathless as I climbed off. The stupid bastard floated face down in our backyard pool. It was all too easy.

Next was Steven. He had all the makings of a good husband and a good provider. I moved him in right after collecting the life insurance on my first husband’s tragic pool accident. For the next five years Steven did everything right. But he developed a wandering eye.

About that same time I developed a wandering eye of my own. I set my sights on another hunk who showed the promise of an even better future. He liked me too, and we spent many discreet evenings together.

Steven liked my best friend Sharon. I learned they were having an affair. So I decided to give him his heart’s desire before I put him down once and for all.

One of his fantasies was to engage in a kinky threesome. So I told Steven I was open to a trio with Sharon. I said I wanted to give him a birthday present to remember. He said he was up for it if Sharon was.

I knew a professor of medieval literature. He had a working guillotine down in his basement. I blew him a couple of times, so he gave me the keys to his house as a favor while he was away.

On the night of our threesome I invited Steven and Sharon over to the professor’s house for some kinky fun. I showed them the working guillotine. Then I asked how crazy would it be if one of us rode it while having sex with the other two. That’s when I gave Steven a knowing wink.

Sharon was eager to climb on and ride his dick. Steven said he was more than willing. So he laid out on the bench and stuck his head through the opening.

I locked the lunette down on his head. Sharon eagerly began stroking his cock. I asked Steven if he was all turned on. He told me he was.

Sharon really wanted to ride him. So I motioned for her to go ahead and climb aboard. She was really excited.

I think she wanted to fuck Steven while I was watching. She was quite the bitch. I think it was her way of saying, “I’ve already been fucking him a lot behind your back, honey. Now I get to do it right in front of you!”

She climbed on and really started riding him hard. It was obvious she’d fucked him before. She gave me a haughty look as though confirming they’d fucked each other so many times before.

She leaned forward and looked down on his face. I asked her if she wanted to kiss him. She said she would love to.

I pulled the lunette up out of the way and watched the two lovebirds go at it. She was all over his lips as she rode him like crazy. I just smiled as I rose up and pulled the lever.

I wasn’t sure if it would work or not, going through two necks at once. But the professor surprised me by how sharp he kept his blade. It was heavy enough that it sliced right through both throats.

Sharon’s hands instinctively came up, feeling around for a head that wasn’t there. Steven looked like he was pumping her the moment he lost his mind, so to speak. Both heads ended up in the basket, eyes open in shock with their lips still puckered.

I had one hell of an O when I saw them like that. Then I got dressed and left. It turned out to be another one of those “accidents” where I’d given Steven the keys and he’d gone over to fuck Sharon. They must have gotten careless or something.

I took up with Stewart shortly after that. He had a thriving practice as a plastic surgeon. The money just kept flowing in.

He had quite the next egg built up when I met him. It was easy using my charms to get him to the altar. Mother would have been so proud of me had she lived to see it.

After five years I met up with Sheila. She and I really hit it off. She made love to me the way the guys never even imagined.

It was time to trade up again. You see, Doctor Stewart liked to be submissive to women. So I began inviting Sheila over. The two of us always dominated him before giving him a good fucking.

Sheila said she enjoyed fucking my Stewart. But she confided that she always enjoyed me more. So I told Sheila my plan. She was willing to go along with it.

The day came when we decided to play a little game with the noose. Stewart was our willing boy-toy. I noosed him up while Sheila played with his dick.

We had so much fun turning him on. He loved playing “the condemned prisoner with the female wardens”. His “last request” was getting a blowjob. So Sheila and I took turns sucking him.

We got him all worked up until he was begging for it. “Damn, girls! When do I get to cum?”

“Right now,” I told him as we both pulled on the rope and tied it off.

Stewart went right up into the air. His eyes flew open in surprise. Then he started to kick as he clawed at the rope around his throat.

His dick got really hard. Sheila and I got on our knees right in front of him and masturbated with our mouths open and our tongues out. Then he hung limp as he began to spurt on us.

We got cum on our faces and in our mouths. Then we 69ed each other as Stewart hung limp. We both had massive orgasms as he dangled lifeless, cum dripping out of the tip of his cock.

Afterwards I fetched a small stool, making sure I didn’t leave any prints on it. I tipped it over behind him as though he’d kicked it away himself. We made sure the rope was tied off in such a way that it looked like he’d hanged himself.

So that’s my story. Girls, you’ve got to learn to trade up. Divorce them if you have to in order to get somebody better. I can tell you I traded up three different times. Best decisions I ever made. And erotic as hell too!

2019 (written Jul 9 ’19 by riwa)

(Pics found on the Internet.)

Posted in Asphyxia Stories, Beheading Stories, Drowning Stories, Male stories | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

Roasted at his Favorite Restaurant 4.5 (52)

I began to have my concerns the moment she joined our harem. Master took to her right off. The time he spent with me became less and less.

She had nice boobs and a great ass. I was jealous as hell the first time I saw her. I knew she was taking up more of Master’s private time. But there didn’t seem to be a damn thing I could do about it.

In the end, it might have been my fault. Maybe I took him for granted. Maybe I didn’t treat him as well as I should have. Us bitches have a habit of doing that a lot. And in the end we always pay.

When he came to me last night I thought I had won him back. We fucked off and on throughout the night. But I didn’t give it my all. Maybe that’s what ultimately did me in.

You know how it is when you think you own your Master, right? You make assumptions, and you do things you wouldn’t normally do. I thought that new bitch was just a passing fad. Boy, was I wrong!

I don’t remember when I fell asleep. But it was that new bitch who came and woke me. She told me she was taking me on a special trip and that Master would be waiting for me once I got there.

I eyed her with barely concealed disdain. She just smiled at me. Did she really think she had the power to take Master out of my grasp?

She took me to a familiar location on the edge of town. I knew where we were going when I smelled the aroma in the air before we even got there. Master was planning a special dinner for me.

Would this new bitch be on the menu? I sure wanted her to be. I found myself hoping Master would allow me a bite of her cunt steak. My only regret would be her inability to scream once my teeth sank into her flesh.

It wasn’t hard to locate Master’s vehicle in the parking lot. I knew he was here waiting for me. That meant we were going to enjoy some tasty girl-meat. I just hoped it was this new bitch whose name I hadn’t even bothered to learn.

As we approached the front I saw a naked girl in the window. She was on her knees with a pole emerging up out of her mouth. She was slowly rotating, spinning in place.

There were heat coils turned on, cooking her nice and slow. It made me wet and aroused seeing her like that. Then she shuddered a little.

“Gawd; she’s still alive!” my bitch escort gasped.

I smiled as I told her, “They like to make them suffer through as many orgasms as possible while they’re still breathing. It really flavors the meat. And it’s incredibly hot to watch.”

I grinned at her as she stood there mesmerized. The girl in the window just kept spinning round and round. Her arms hung limp behind her back as though she was too exhausted to put up any resistance.

It was so damned erotic seeing that roasting bitch staring up like that, the end of the spit protruding out of her mouth. Her chest barely rose and fell. She sure was getting the ultimate fuck.

I saw her shudder again. Was it possible she was still cumming? I could tell he spasms were not very strong. But they didn’t need to be. I think it was just her body’s way of dealing with her suffering.

“Gawd!” my bitch escort breathed. “I wonder if they’ll do you like that. That is so incredibly hot!”

My head snapped around as I looked at her in surprise. My heart leaped into my throat as I struggled to catch my breath. Surely I must have heard her wrong.

She escorted me around the building to the “meat” entrance where the girls walk in. But they never come back out except in packages or digesting in stomachs. So why was I being taken back to this entrance?

It couldn’t be true, could it? Surely Master wouldn’t get rid of me like this, would he? I couldn’t believe it… didn’t want to believe it!

She buzzed the rear entrance twice. An attractive, muscle-bound guy opened the door. “I’ve got some meat to deliver,” my bitch escort told him matter-of-factly. “You should already have the paperwork.”

I stared thunderstruck before I stammered, “This can’t be right. There’s been a mistake!”

The guy looked at me before asking, “Your name’s Carrie, right?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Then there’s no mistake.”

He smiled as he asked my bitch escort, “Would you like to come in and watch?”

“I sure would!” She let out a grin from ear to ear.

I couldn’t believe it! That’s when I started to tremble. He just grabbed my arm and took me inside as my bitch escort followed us in.

I went numb, in a complete state of shock. I was sure I had Master eating out of the palm of my hand again. What the hell happened??

What about last night? After all, hadn’t we enjoyed fucking? My mind worked overtime trying to remember what had happened the night before and what we had said to each other.

Hadn’t he enjoyed it? Didn’t he always enjoy it? He was supposed to enjoy it, right??

My mind wandered back to the day the bitch came to live with us. I remembered how little I’d seen of Master since then. Was I really about to be put on the menu? Had he grown tired of me??

There were already bitches cooking; I could smell the aroma. My blood ran cold as I considered my situation. I wasn’t sure this was how I wanted to go out, certainly not as an entrée on Master’s plate. Besides, I knew the bitch beside me was going to enjoy watching me suffer.

We entered a large spitting room. There were already women in the process of being readied to be barbecued. I couldn’t believe I was about to add to their number.

One woman had her ass up in the air with her face hanging off the end of the table. A couple bitches were holding her down as a couple of guys were pushing the spit into her from behind. We paused for a moment to watch since my bitch escort had become fascinated at the sight.

One of the bitches holding that woman down gasped, “Push it in – push it in!” The poor thing was already gurgling as though she was having trouble breathing. Then the guys shoved real hard.

The poor woman jerked painfully as the spit suddenly emerged out of her mouth. It was all bloody; I could tell it had gone through her ass and torn up her stomach. The other bitch quickly rushed behind her and began licking her swollen nub.

The spitted woman grunted as she began shuddering. “She’s cumming on the spit!” the other bitch gasped. My bitch escort blurted out, “That is so fucking hot!” Then we moved on.

We went over and watched a woman sitting on a chair. She was securely fastened and was bucking and shuddering. A metal spit was going into her from underneath.

“She’ll be like that for another fifteen minutes,” our muscular escort told us. “She gets electric shocks every half minute to flavor her meat from the inside.”

She stopped shuddering as she panted for breath. She gave me a pained expression as though she was really suffering. Her eyes pleaded for relief, but I was in no position to grant it. Then she jolted again, her eyes rolling as she appeared to be orgasming painfully.

Another naked girl was lying flat on her back unattended on a table. A metal pole went right through her cunt and was sticking out of her mouth. Her right wrist was secured to her right ankle. The same was done to her left wrist and ankle.

Her legs flopped open and closed like a butterfly’s wings. She grunted and wriggled. I felt myself getting wet again despite the roasting I was about to endure.

“We just did her,” the muscular guy explained. “They’ll be back any minute to take her and put her on to roast.”

At that moment two guys went by carrying another spit. A naked woman was bound and secured to it. A long, wooden stabilizer had been pushed deep into her cunt.

“Where are they taking that one?” my bitch escort asked.

“She’d going on a rotisserie outside. Care to have a look?”

“Hell yeah!”

My date with the spit was delayed as we followed those two guys outside. They took their charge to a pit and hooked her up to a rotisserie. They made sure the machine was set up to rotate her body. Then they stepped back and activated it.

Flames came up from below as she started to rotate in place. I could see her wriggle like crazy as she fought her spit. Then it looked like she was cumming as she fucked that pole… well, at least it looked like it to me.

I trembled from a terrible arousal. I was frightened out of my wits. I didn’t want this to happen to me. But there was nothing I could do to stop it now. They had the work order from master. I was nothing but meat now.

We spent another couple of minutes outside looking around. Two headless bodies were starting to brown on their spits. My bitch escort turned to the muscular guy and asked, “Will Carrie lose her head too?”

“Only after she’s been on the fire until the heat kills her.”

Instinctively I shook my head. This couldn’t be happening to me, could it? That’s when my bitch escort turned to me and smiled.

“That’s great. It couldn’t happen to a more deserving bitch. Master says this one’s been cold to him lately and has been treating him like shit. He’s really looking forward to eating her.”

I wanted to tell her she was wrong. I wanted to tell her Master wouldn’t do this to me. But what could I say? Supposedly they already had the work order indicating I was to be processed.

They led me back inside and straight to one of the spitting machines. I was instructed to remove all my clothes. That’s when I knew it was all true.

Up ‘til then I’d been hoping for a miracle. But there was no hope for me. Master had ordered me to be spitted and roasted at his favorite restaurant.

I was numb as I took up a position upon the machine. My ankles were locked in place so I couldn’t kick. My stomach rested on a cushioned bench as my wrists were locked to the front of the machine, leaving me virtually on my hands and knees.

I whimpered as the pole was slowly cranked forward until it touched my puckered anus. I flinched as I whimpered. Then it was slowly inched forward until it penetrated me.

I started hyperventilating as I felt it reach something unyielding internally. My bitch escort asked, “Can I do it?” The muscular guy motioned as he told her, “Help yourself.”

The bitch pushed a button on the machine. All at once I felt the spit start to push farther inside me. I let out an ungawdly wail as I felt it start to tear at my insides.

I wriggled and shuddered as I tried to break free. But it was no use. My bitch escort shamelessly masturbated as she watched me being spitted.

I let out a belch as it pushed into and ruptured my stomach. It hurt like hell. My cunt kept clenching, but there was nothing for it to hang onto.

The muscular guy went over and brought back a huge metal phallus for my bitch escort to look at. “You can push that inside her if you like. It will give her orgasms while somewhat minimizing the pain.”

She grinned as she went behind me. I was clenching like mad, but she still managed to force it in. Then she turned it on.

Almost immediately I began wriggling and writhing. Once more she masturbated to my agony. She even reached under to cup my boobs, grasping onto them and giving them a shake.

I heard a familiar voice, which made me turn to look. Master had just walked into the area. “How’s she doing, Jack?”

“You’re just in time, sir. The spit’s about to enter her throat.”

About that time I felt it down in the lower part of my esophagus. I tried to retch, but I couldn’t throw anything up. My throat began to bulge from the intrusion. Then I was cumming, a humiliating orgasm as I kept trying to swallow.

My bitch escort went back to touching herself. Master just smiled at me. “Well Carrie, it seems you’ve reached your sell-by date. I hope you taste good.”

I shook my head as tears filled my eyes. I tried to mouth the words to beg for my life. But it was already much too late.

I felt the spit enter the back of my throat. My head was forced back as it kept moving through me. Then it slowly emerged out past my teeth.

That bitch escort gasped in orgasm. I shuddered from another painful climax. Master instructed Jack to make sure I cooked to a golden brown. Then he and the bitch escort left me to my fate.

A couple guys came over and finished with preparations. My ankles were skewered to the back of the pole. I would have screamed, but I had a long, steel cock down my throat, muffling my cries.

My wrists were skewered to the front, causing me even more agony. The toy was pulled out of my cunt as a pussy stabilizer was inserted. Then the damned thing was turned on.

Once more I began shuddering with orgasms as they carried me to an open cooking slot. I was hooked up to a rotisserie. Then I started to turn in place next to one other bitch who had long since succumbed.

I orgasmed again and again as the pussy stabilizer vibrated me. I knew it was supposed to help flavor the meat. But I was in too much agony to appreciate it.

I had a few minutes of life remaining to consider my sad fate. I kept wondering what I had done wrong for Master to discard me so callously. In the end did it really matter what his motivation was to get rid of me?

I don’t know how many times I climaxed before I finally succumbed. I cooked for another hour before my head was removed. After another three hours they began sawing off pieces of meat to serve.

Master and my bitch escort got a healthy portion of rump roast. They said I tasted delicious. That was the end of me as I was chopped up into little pieces before being packaged. Some parts ended up being cooked and served to restaurant guests.

2019 (written Jul 14 ’19 by riwa)

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Haunted Guillotine 4.2 (11)

Ever since he bought it for his studio I could not take my eyes off it. It gave me the erotic chills every time I laid eyes on it. It was beautiful, yet deadly.

He told me it had a strange history. It had three previous owners. And there had been three previous deaths attributed to the blade.

The first death went to a magician’s assistant. Somehow there had been a miscalculation. The audience knew it was not a trick when blood was seen flowing profusely out of the severed neck.

When the head was pulled out of the wicker basket, blood dripped from severed flesh. Three women in the audience fainted. The magician was charged with involuntary manslaughter despite his protests the machine shouldn’t have worked that way at all.

The second death occurred in a museum where the guillotine was put on display. The story was told of the poor magician’s assistant, how beautiful she was and the accident that had claimed her. The guests were always captivated by the retelling. It was said that more than a few women stared at it as though transfixed.

Late one night a museum attendant and her boyfriend snuck inside and went down to check out the deadly blade. He claims she wanted to stick her head inside and feel the raw power of kneeling at death’s door. He was sure the blade was locked into position. But somehow it fell anyway. He too was arrested and charged accordingly.

A few weeks later the curator had the guillotine taken out of the museum. She’d told others she believed it was haunted. That was the reason for the first two deaths and she was determined not to risk any more lives.

She had it locked in her basement. She was determined not to display it in public ever again. But there were several requests to have it returned as people were now fascinated with its reputation.

One morning the curator did not show up for work. An intern was sent to her home. She was found beheaded in her basement in her night robe. There was no indication who might have wanted her dead.

Three deaths attributed to it were enough to cause the museum to get rid of it. That’s how my boyfriend got hold of it. And that’s when I first laid eyes on it in his studio.

He said he was using it for models to pose. I asked if he would give me the chance to stick my head through the lunette. He told me he wasn’t ready for that just yet.

I fumed at his reluctance. I believed I would make a great model. He just smiled and said the time wasn’t right.

I waited impatiently for a week until I could wait no longer. I went to his studio when he was away. When my eyes took it in I felt a strange compulsion.

There was a pillow on the floor. It looked like it was for the head and it was stained in red. It was some coloring he must have gotten his hands on to sprinkle onto the fabric.

I stuck my head into the lunette and felt something I had never felt before. So I found his camera and put it on a tripod. I used the timer and began to take my own pictures.

Each time I posed I removed another article of clothing. The whole experience was strangely thrilling. It’s as though I felt a presence there with me, encouraging me to pose again and again.

I finally stripped down until I was only wearing my stockings, heels and lacy panties. Then I posed some more, setting the timer to record the pictures. I was breathless, but now I experienced what felt like a strange compulsion… along with a fear I had not felt previously.

A part of me wanted to stop. But I couldn’t make myself end my impromptu photography session. It was as though the blade kept calling me back, compelling me to return and expose my graceful neck time after time.

I reset the timer on the camera. Then I posed in a crouching position. I propped myself up by my arms, stuck my head through and presented myself in a submissive pose. It was as though I was offering myself to the blade above.

I felt that presence again, and the fear returned in a rush. I felt a cold chill run down my spine. Then the rope to the blade fluttered as though someone was caressing it.

In my last moments I felt that presence, something dark and sinister. Then the camera started snapping pictures in rapid-fire succession of its own accord. I had failed to set the timer; it should not have gone off.

I opened my mouth to scream, only for the blade to come whooshing down. My cry was silenced as my head rolled onto the floor. My body rose upwards, my hands reaching for a head that was no longer there. Then my body tiredly fell over sideways, jerking and spasming in its death throes.

Epilogue:

They were going to arrest my boyfriend for my murder. But there were several witnesses attesting to his whereabouts. The camera had time-stamped the moment of my beheading, indicating he could not possibly have been in the studio at that moment.

There have been no arrests for my murder. The crime continues to go unsolved. And the guillotine now lies in the hands of another owner.

2018 (written Sep 6 ’18 by riwa. Inspired by the pictures found on the Internet.)

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Hanging Professor Moore 4.3 (21)

Note: Inspired by this render by Hojojitsu.

“You wanted to see us, Professor Moore?”

“Yes, Tamara. I’ve had it with you and Sapphire. You girls are always cutting up in class. You’re just not taking Early American History seriously.”

“That’s not true, professor.”

“Sapphire, you’re the worst; always making jokes and flirting with the boys. If you two aren’t interested in taking a history class then why are you sitting in mine?”

“Because we were told we had to have some history credits in order to graduate, professor.”

“Well, you’re not getting any credits out of my class, girls. I’ve tried my best with you. I suggest you drop out and try to enroll in another history class.”

“But we HAVE been paying attention, professor! Why do you have to be such a hard-ass?”

“Girls, whatever you’re ‘paying’ in my class, it certainly isn’t attention.”

“Sure we are,” Sapphire protested as she flung her red hair indignantly. “We learned all about how they hanged all those witches in back in Salam in the 1400’s.”

“You certainly didn’t learn that from my class, girls. And it was the 1600’s. Your noses are always buried in your iPods. But I do commend you for giving it your best shot looking it up on the Internet.”

“Professor Moore, that’s not fair,” Tamara whined. “Sapphire, let’s show her what we learned.”

Sapphire produced a length of hemp out of what looked like an expensive bag, no doubt purchased from one of their many self-proclaimed shopping trips – the bag, not the rope. Tamara pulled a chair up to the front of the class. She climbed on and then tilted up a piece of ceiling tile to expose a thick pipe.

Sapphire handed her the rope which her companion looped over the pipe. Then she began to form one end into a noose. The professor watched with a feeling of growing unease.

“Since when did you girls get interested in hangings?”

“Since reading about the time they hanged witches, professor. It’s really interesting. We thought we’d try to earn a little extra credit by putting on a little demonstration.”

“Girls, I’m really not interested – Hey, what are you doing?? Tamara stop it! Sapphire, what do you think you’re doing??”

“We’re just undressing you, Professor Moore. We heard they hanged the witches back then in their frocks and dresses. But this one website we went to said you should hang a girl nude. See? We know more than you think we do.”

“Sapphire, this is uncalled for. Tamara, you stop this right now – HEY!”

She was too shocked to cry out. Before she knew it they’d forcefully removed everything but her heels. If this was some kind of a joke, they were certainly taking it way too far.

“Girls, I’m going to report you to your faculty advisor for this. You’re out of my class. Hell, you’ll be kicked out of the university over this!”

“Not until we finish with our extra credit demonstration, professor.”

Miss Moore let out a cry as Sapphire bound her wrists tightly behind her back. “Girl’s, this has nothing to do with witches, Salem or American history!”

“That’s ok, professor. We know this isn’t Salem or the 1600’s. We’re just putting on a demonstration of what we’ve learned.”

“”Girls, I’ve had enough – WAIT!”

Professor Moore gasped as Tamara snugged the noose around her neck. “Looks good on you, professor,” the blonde observed with a smirk.

“Let’s get her up on the chair,” Sapphire suggested.

“Girls, no – STOP!” They just got on either side of her and hefted her up. Then Sapphire took the slack out of the noose before securing it as Tamara steadied the frightened professor.

“Ok, girls; you’ve made your point.”

“Oh, we haven’t finished with the demonstration yet, professor. Right, Tamara?” Sapphire chuckled as she sat on the professor’s desk, pulled out a file and began filing her nails.

“That’s right,” the blonde agreed with a dangerous smile as she touched the quivering professor on her bare ass. “There’s just one thing left to do.”

“Girls, you can’t do this to me! You won’t get away with it!”

“Actually we learned this from Dr. Tree’s class, professor. You know he teaches Hanging 101, right?”

“I should have known! Did that bastard put you up to this?” Then she crossed her thighs in embarrassment, trying to hide the fearful arousal she felt that was beginning to trickle out of her slit.

“No, professor,” Sapphire told her as she worked her nails. “We came up with this idea all on our own. But he did tell us you should hang a woman nude. Show her, Tamara.”

“Tell us what you think, professor.” And with that the blonde pulled the chair out from underneath.

Professor Moore finally let out a shriek of horror and disbelief. A moment later the chair was gone, her voice choked off. She dropped a few inches until the noose pulled her up short, leaving the tips of her heels a mere four inches above the floor.

“How’d we do, professor?” the blonde asked as the naked woman’s legs scissored. She pedaled as though riding a bicycle. Then she stretched her heels downward as though reaching for the floor again.

“She’s doing better than that clip we saw,” Sapphire observed, still calmly filing her fingernails.

“That’s because that one was fake, silly,” Then Tamara asked, “What do you think, professor? Do we get an A for extra credit?”

Miss Moore kicked and twisted, fighting the noose as she jerked her arms up and down behind her back. She rasped for breath, unable to make much more than grunting sounds. Her nipples were painfully erect as moisture dripped out of her slit.

She cross her legs, rubbing her thighs together. “Look at that; she’s getting herself off!” Tamara gasped excitedly.

“That’s nothing,” Sapphire replied with a yawn. “I wriggle more and make more noise than that when Bobby gets me off in the back of his Chevy!”

The professor kicked and struggled until she wore herself out. Her face turned red as she hung limp, her body gently swaying from side to side as she started to twist in place. “So what do you think, professor?” Sapphire asked matter-of-factly. “Is that worth an A or a B?”

There was no response other than drool appearing in her mouth to splatter onto her breasts as her tongue poked out past her lips. “I think she said it’s an A,” Tamara decided. “Let’s go get Professor Tree and bring him back and see what he thinks.”

“I bet he’s gonna love the way we tied the noose and hanged her nude,” Sapphire, agreed with a smile as the two coeds gathered up their bag and left the professor dangling quietly in her classroom. There was silence except for a quiet dripping sound of fluid off heels caused by a bladder giving way.

2018 (written Oct 15 ’18 by riwa. Inspired by Hojojitsu’s creative render.)

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