Morning execution – the garrote

4.1
(28)

For the last week I notice Master has not enjoyed my body the way he used to. It makes me wonder if he’s spending time with another of the girls in his harem. It would motivate me to work a little harder, but lately it’s been hard to put forth the effort.

We spend the night together where I do some sucking and fucking. But my enthusiasm is lacking and so is his response. I just chalk it up to one of those nights where we are simply less than enthusiastic.

I promise myself to do better next time. But I’m already starting to rationalize my recent performance. Perhaps I’ve grown comfortable with the good life he gives me.

I awaken in the morning to discover he’s already out of bed. I’ve been sleeping in lately. It’s another of my little idiosyncrasies I’ve picked up lately.

One of the other bitches comes to retrieve me. She tells me Master is waiting in the recreation room. It makes me wonder what he has planned in there.

On the way it occurs to me what device he has in there. I find myself wincing inwardly. Not another one??

Master likes to use his garroting device in there. I’ve watched him on several occasions. It turns him on watching a girl suffer and die like that. But I’ve never gotten into it myself.

I don’t know what it is that turns him on about that dreaded contraption. It makes a woman’s nipples hard, and she often squirts from a forced orgasm. He’s always ready to fuck afterwards. But it doesn’t do a thing for me, although I’ve tried to show my enthusiasm in the past. If he wants to do another one then I’ll put on my best act to let him know I love the way it pleases him.

When we arrive there’s this new bitch waiting for us with short black hair. She looks in better shape than I do; I’ll admit that. I need to spend more time in here, but I just can’t get up the motivation.

The number tattooed on her left breast reads #252. So she’s the next one eh? Maybe he wants to snuff her while I watch.

She waits for Master to walk in. He smiles at the both of us. I give #252 a little smirk, knowing what’s going to happen next. But my heart skips a beat when he announces, “#251, would you please take up a position on the garroting device?”

My breath catches in my throat as I stammer, “M-Master?” The bitch gives me a faint smirk of her own. Then Master starts to walk over.

Immediately I sit down. I know better than to disobey. A moment later I feel him securing my wrists to the back of the damnable device.

#252 gets on her knees and approaches. She forces my legs apart as I writhe and whimper. Master puts the metal strap around my neck and fastens it securely.

My mind is awhirl… “this can’t be happening! I don’t fucking deserve this!” Then I feel the metal around my neck tighten.

I rasp and gurgle as I tremble with fear. Master’s not really going to do this to me, is he? Then I glance over and notice he’s taken his cock out. He always has his cock out whenever he’s going to snuff someone in this chair.

The metal around my throat tightens a little more. I rasp and gurgle as the bitch fingers my snatch. It’s wet and dripping from a fearful arousal.

She fingers me as though curious how the garrote chair works on a female. It’s hard to breathe; drool spills off my tongue onto my breast. My mind screams this can’t be happening to me.

Master steps forward, allowing her to suck his cock. Then she moves in close and licks my dripping twat. I writhe and tremble when her tongue comes in contact with my dripping slit.

She goes back to fingering me until she looks up and asks, “Master, may I?”

“You may, #252.” Then she fucks me with her fingers. I tremble, rasp and shudder in horror and humiliation.

I feel the metal tighten around my neck. Now I cannot breathe at all. My body takes on a life of its own as my legs start to fly outward.

The voices are faint; I can barely detect them. “Can I make her orgasm as she dies, Master?”

“Yes you may, #252.” Then I feel a thumb on my swollen nub as she finger-fucks me.

I struggle to breathe but it’s impossible. My body shakes as more droll spills off my tongue. Then I’m cumming as I spiral away into oblivion, chastising myself for not having made more of an effort to please Master these last few days.

I do not feel his seed splatter my chest from his swollen manhood…

(Oct 31 ’18)

(Inspired by guni’s manip and Algo asking “What about garroting…)

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