Thursday, May 10, 2012

Girl in a Jar

It was worse than being buried alive, she thought.

Virtually every muscle in her body was cramping. Her lower back seized. Her legs and thighs were aching. Her arms were in only mild pain compared with her shoulders and neck. Even her ankles and feet were in agony.

Breathing was a serious problem. Yes, there were several cracks and holes in the glass jar but not enough to get good fresh air, just the minimum oxygen. The problem wasn't just the lack of air, it was her own body. The smell of her own sweat and urine filled her lungs and suppressed her breathing like a wet blanket. The humidity inside the jar was making her sweat profusely.

It was impossible to move anything.

Tears trickled down her cheeks. She was trying not to cry because she knew her body was dehydrating and she needed to retain as much water as she could. Still, it hurt. Her life was pain, and there was very little else except a panic that welled inside her.

A man approached. Her new owner. Desperation and hope suddenly swelled and came out as a sob mixed with a single word. "Please."

The man knelt next to her and looked at her carefully, as if examining purchased goods. Which she was, after all. She knew that after this experience she would do anything for him, take any abuse, undergo any humiliation and degradation. She just wanted out. She simply wanted to be able to move again.

It came out again, clearer this time. "Please. I will do anything."

The man rose and turned away. Despair overwhelmed the hope and she screamed, the sound echoing and deafening her inside the tiny glass bubble in which she was encased.

Her owner returned moments later. In his hand, he had a hammer. He raised it above him and she closed her eyes as it descended, striking and shattering the glass.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Suicide Club

It had been a year since Lisa had joined the Suicide Club, and in that time she had seen two of their membership die.  It was enough for her to know that death was never easy, never clean. Her original mixed emotions of despair, a desire for some meaning or at least excitement, and a fear of taking her own life tugged at desires to end the sporadic misery that had marked her existence.  The Suicide Club seemed like the perfect answer. Live or die, it would be an adventure.

The group of 15 or so men and women stood in the clearing with trees all around, obscured by fog. Lisa rolled her dice at the same time as the others. Several of the members stepped back leaving Lisa and nine others to switch pairs of dice among each other and roll again. A stab of fear, anticipation and adrenalin hit her as she quickly surveyed the results.  Three of their group stepped away, and the remaining 7, including Lisa, exchanged dice.

Lisa stood and stretched, more out of nervous energy than anything else. This part of the ritual had always appealed to her, the rush of excitement was better than any drug she had ever taken.  Lisa was a tall, slim girl, with brunette hair cropped into a pixie cut that framed her cute face perfectly. She could have any of the guys in the club, and had in fact slept with a few, including Polly. Polly was not lesbian or bi, but when Lisa had seduced her she had put up no protest. It had been a good pairing. The club was an odd paring of sexual passion, angst, fear, depression and a careless attitude toward life.

 Polly now stood across from her, nervously manipulating the dice in her fingers.

They rolled again. Polly and three others stepped back. Polly looked relieved to the point of tears; Lisa felt a pang of strong fear and felt her hands shake. She had not come this close as yet. She swore to herself that when this was over she was going to seduce Sean, the tall sandy haired guy that stood to the back of the observing set of members that had been eliminated from the lottery. The tense adrenalin gave her a sexual rush that made her flush, mixed with the first real fear of the day. She felt herself getting wet, a strange reaction. Staring at Sean for a moment, Lisa imagined him between her legs, pushing and writhing as she gripped him with her thighs. He was staring at her, too, with a sort of weird look of desire.

The dice were cast once more, and Lisa swore. "Fuck!"

All but Lisa and Phillip stepped away. Lisa stood for a moment, once again savoring the massive adrenalin rush that was making her horny and terrified beyond all reason. She now had a 50/50 chance of dying that day. It didn't seem real.

As per club rules, Sean and one other guy in the club stepped forward to tie the last two member's hands behind their backs. This was a precaution to prevent any last minute regrets; once beginning the lottery, the process would continue until one of them was dead. No backing out. Sean took the opportunity to feel Lisa's ass through her loose skirt. She could feel that his cock was hard, and while she wanted him desperately at that moment, there was little she could do about it until the ceremony was complete.

A petite blond stepped forward. At 27, Ellen was the oldest of the group. She stood between Phillip and Lisa, letting the entire group savor the tension and energy that brought them back every few months. Lisa felt suddenly cold, the light top she was wearing would be OK later in the day when she was seducing Sean, but not in this fog...

Ellen rolled the dice for the last time.

Phillip fell to the ground and sat numbly. Lisa looked at the dice with disbelief. The tension reached a peak and held there, the terror which penetrated her body an unbelievable electric charge. She had wanted to die a year ago, but the very thing that was condemning her to die now had given her a new purpose in life. She didn't want to die, she wanted to continue to watch others die, she wanted to risk dying, but she didn't want to die herself...

A rope had been thrown over a tree limb high above them. Lisa stood shaking beneath it, looking at Sean, wanting him, wanting to fuck him one last time, pleading with her eyes for him to take her right then... but he simply took the noose and slipped it over her neck.

The rope felt rough. Odd how it felt so different than her soft clothing. It was out of place around her neck, the scratching an unpleasant feeling. She thought about her body, how she had worked to attain the perfect weight and look; muscular, find breasts, strong legs, and how this body would struggle and finally decay. What a waste, she though.

The rope pulled tight around her neck. Panic set in, and she tried to run. It was no use, the rope was already urging her body higher, lifting her up by that thin, soft flesh that curved up from her shoulders. As the rope bore more and more of her weight, the hangman's knot slipped down and pressed against the back of her neck, pressing tighter, pulling the noose smaller, pressure building. She was on her toes now, and her air was cut off. She could no longer breath except in very short, strained raspy wheezes.

Even that left luxury left seconds later. The rope pulled her neck and head up, twisting it slightly, and the weight of her body (only 120 lbs, not bad for someone 5'9"), pressed her windpipe closed and air no longer passed. This caused a slight gurgle to come from her mouth as the pressure pushed her throat and tongue forward. The group saw her tongue protrude and drool form as she slowly left the earth, the entire weight of her body now pulling down on the rope around her neck.

Lisa struggled. It wasn't a matter of choice, as if she thought somehow she could escape. In the pounding purple haze that covered her vision she was aware she struggled and that it was of no use. The others watched her legs kick, her bare stomach heave in an attempt to draw air through the close passage. As her writhing body slowly rose higher into the air, they observed her feet appear, kicking, under her long skirt.

About 10 feet above the ground, Lisa stopped ascending and simply hung for all to observe. Her kicking was slowing, and the silence of the foggy forest was broken only by the slight creak of the rope as she swung back and forth. A small stream of liquid ran down one leg, now exposed to those beneath, as Lisa lost control of body functions.

Finally, Lisa was still. Her glassy eyes stared forward. Her pink tongue could be seen protruding slightly from between her full lips. Her flat stomach was apparent between her top and skirt, unmoving. The group stood back to observe for a while, for in death Lisa was more lovely than ever. Hanging there in the forest, she was a delicate, beautiful flower on display. Her arms were lovely, relaxed and tied behind her back; her legs were perfect as they peeked out from under her skirt. Her body shape could be observed perfectly, every curve and beautiful but still inch of her form.

The group left, one by one, and Sean walked with is arm around Polly.

"I fucked her, you know," Polly said quietly.

"Did you?" Sean asked.

"Yes. It was good. I had never slept with a girl before."

Sean's hand crept from around Polly's waist to touch the bottom curve of her breast. "Sleep with me now. Fuck me. Let's go back to the clearing and fuck underneath her body. This whole thing has made me so horny, I can't believe it..."

Polly turned to face Sean as his hand slipped under her blouse and found her right nipple. "Yes... god yes... I want that... now..."

Polly and Sean kissed deeply as the others left the clearing. When they were alone, they eagerly removed clothing, kissing and groping each other. Polly found Sean's member and gripped its hardness, moist from a bit of precum, and pulled it out of his pants. In moments they were on the ground, Polly on her back with Sean between her legs, pushing deep withing her, writhing as she gripped him tightly between her thighs.

As they fucked, she looked up at the sight of Lisa's hanging body, still in the fog above them. Polly moaned and shuddered as the first of several orgasms rolled over her body.