A dangerous family game

A Dangerous Family Game – part 2

Time goes by . . . so, SOOO slowly . . . how much time . . . it’s impossible to tell . . .

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My legs are shaking with fatigue, my arms are beginning to feel numb too, from being bound the way they are, the elbows pulled tight behind us may not have been the best idea. We started perspiring almost the minute we got here this morning (but maybe it is still “this morning”?) and by now we’re dripping wet all over. I can feel each drop of perspiration run slowly down; my back, arms, breasts and my legs . . . and they all tingle and itch. And especially my sides, I can feel my underarms itching with perspiration. It’s so annoying I could scream . . . that is IF I could scream! And it’s so hard to keep breathing through my nose with that huge ball filling my mouth. And of course gagged that way my mouth is filling with saliva which is NOT easy to swallow with that gag, and it too is dripping out, from my lower lip (and THAT itches too) onto my breasts, and then running down between them. Between the perspiration and my drooling it’s almost like a stream running between them, itching and tickling all the way down as it runs between my legs and down my quivering thighs. When we practiced and tested everything we didn’t have this heat and sweat to contend with.

And even now I can feel my throat loop is tighter than it was when this ordeal started. And the rope through the pulley has shrunk too, quite a bit. I’m almost on tip-toes to keep myself from strangling, and my calf muscles are starting to ache. And then, just when I think I’ve found a comfort level, one or all 3 of those monstrous vibrating bullets start up and THAT’s a different sort of discomfort. Oh arousing to be sure, but what a distraction, and it IS weakening me. Oh my God, how awful this is! And how much longer until there’s even a possibility of unlocking myself, my rear is numb from the ice cube nestled there, I have NO idea how far along it is in the melting process. But in the midst of this discomfort I am watching mom and grandma’s reactions too. I find it all fascinating as terrible as it is! When “my” vibrators go on it pushes me toward a peak of arousal . . . and then stops. So it’s some level of arousal all the time, occasionally pushed towards a peak . . . but no orgasm! I squirm in frustration. As horrible as the whole thing is I WANT to have an “O”, I want it badly!

And I’m finding that watching mom and grandma is arousing me too. And I can see that they are both having the same sort of reactions I am having. We are all 3 of us extremely turned on, even though this could end badly, VERY badly for us, somehow the arousal overcomes the fear. I have to keep reminding myself to keep my hands in position to catch the key when that ice cube finally melts, and it’s not easy to twist my hands around to the proper position anyway, and even more so when I’m distracted by such arousal as I’m feeling. I wonder if our agreement to bind our elbows together as well as our wrists was a mistake. We got so competitive when we were planning this, I only hope we didn’t try to out-compete each other and come up with something that CAN’T be escaped! Yes, we practiced it, but somehow it seems so much more difficult now than it ever was in practice. The rawhide has shrunk significantly, my throat loop (but still not tight enough to choke me), but mostly the rawhide ropes that keep pulling us up. My arms and hands are beginning to feel numb and I keep twisting my fingers to keep enough feeling in them to use the key when it finally melts out of its jacket of ice. I’m needing to stand on my tip-toes now and my legs are quivering with fatigue, my calf muscles feel like they’re about to cramp.

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Time goes by . . . MORE time, how much time? . . . I’m trying to tell by watching the sun’s position in the sky, but . . . ?

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My legs ache, the muscles quivering with fatigue. The throat loop has shrunk and so has the rawhide running through the pulley forcing me to stand dully on tip-toe. I just hope I don’t get a leg cramp; if I do I’m dead. And that rawhide strap between my legs feels like it’s cutting me in two . . . but in spite of that I can feel myself hovering on the edge of an orgasm. HOW can that be I wonder, I’m actually in some severe pain by now. I sometimes steal glances at mom and grandma and they are suffering all the same things I am, including the unexpected arousal. I see both their swollen vaginas . . . is that fluid dripping down their legs perspiration or . . . ? I’m really frightened now but my reaction is to get even more aroused, to want that orgasm desperately. If I’m going to die I want to have a great “O” on the way out.

But then I realize that my butt cheeks don’t feel like they’re frozen anymore. I’ve felt the liquid running down between my thighs for a long time now, but couldn’t tell whether it was sweat, pussy juice or melting ice-cube . . . or all three. But I think my ice-cube HAS melted and hopefully I can get the key and free myself. But my hands are numb now and I wriggle my fingers and twist my hands around to wake them up. Finally, some signs of life . . . thank God . . . I’d hate to have made it this far and then drop the key. But I don’t have it firmly in hand yet, and it’s not as easy as I expected. I can just barely twist my bound arms around to dig the key from between my butt-cheeks, but finally I manage to get it in hand. Now I realize how afraid I was that I’d drop it . . . but I didn’t. The way we bound and locked our arms makes it even MORE difficult to get my arms free than to get the key in the first place, but after several minutes of struggle I get my arms unlocked. I can barely breathe by now and my vision was beginning to get fuzzy, but I stand there and breathe deep. How many minutes, I don’t know, but I know it’s a while before I recover my breath. I haven’t taken off any of the bondage except that horrible, huge gag (and my jaws ache so bad it’s almost like a toothache) only taken the locks off so I can move freely. I just breathe deep and savor my escape!

After I’ve recovered my senses I register mom and grandma again. They’re both barely surviving and I can see them trying desperately to get to their keys. And their staring at me with desperate eyes. They’re sure I will come and free them now. As I watch those 2 beauties struggling for their lives, just as I was only a few moments ago, my arousal returns in a rush. More like a tidal wave actually. I haven’t taken off that cruel strap between my legs, I still feel as if I’m being sawed in half, but nevertheless I reach down and lightly touch my throbbing clit and I explode into what is probably the biggest orgasm I’ve ever had. I don’t know how long it goes on, I’m mentally blank except for the wave of sensation after sensation. I stop, but my clit is still begging for more!

I think it was the sight of mom and grandma hanging there, on the verge of death that triggered that massive “O”. They still look so hot. Firm, strong, beautiful bodies; helpless and struggling desperately; perspiration, saliva and vaginal fluid running down their shuddering bodies. And as I step closer I think I see tears running from their eyes also . . . yes, tears. I reflexively wipe a hand across my eyes and can feel that I too was crying, although I wasn’t conscious of it. I know I need to free them, time is running very short . . . but . . . I’m hesitating . . . and I don’t know why?

O.K. . . . I clear my head and go over to get grandma Janine out first, she seems to be in the greater distress. She is probing desperately between her buttocks for the key, she knows she doesn’t have much time left to get it. But when I get to her, to “help” her get her key, I end up taking it in MY hands and out of hers. I look around for something, I don’t really know what, but then I see it. There is the remains of an old wooden bench. The legs are rotted and broken and it only sits 6-8 inches off the ground. But when I see it I know what I’m going to do with it. I carry it over to where grandma hangs, and push it right up against her feet, which are now on tip-toe and barely holding her up. I grab her around the thighs and lift (not so easy, as she’s slick with perspiration and slippery as a fish) and push the remains of the bench under her feet with my leg, then let her down. This has put a bit of slack in the rawhide rope and she blinks wildly and gasps for breath. She is sure she will be free soon, and her face shows such relief. Now I turn my attention to mom.

I see such relief in mom’s eyes as she sees me coming up to her. She watched while I got grandmas key and set her up on the remains of that old bench so she could breathe. I go behind and she has her key in her hand already, but she knows I’ve come to free her so she drops it in my hand. Now I have both of their keys in my hands. I went to them to help them, to set them free . . . so why haven’t I done it? And why do I spend time wondering about it instead of simply DOING it? I look across to grandma Janine and look her beautiful, firm body up and down. Even at 59, she’s still firm and solid, no slack, not excess fat, just soft, lush curves. It strikes me suddenly that I find her body arousing. And it soon creeps into my mind that I find it especially so with her in this vulnerable situation. Helpless, her muscles quivering and shuddering with exertion, slick and dripping with an unwholesome mixture of perspiration, saliva and tears . . . and with vaginal fluid almost gushing down her thighs. This little game of ours has aroused her as much as it did me! A thought flits through my head but I quickly banish it . . . it’s just toooo crazy. But my clit remembers that brief thought and throbs and drips over it and forces it back into my mind. And it IS arousing me, and I do think about it, and . . .

Now I look at mom, hanging next to me, in distress. And she’s in that same slick and slimy shape that grandma is, and it registers that I am too. I watch her briefly, on tip-toe (the rawhide has shrunk so much she can’t stand flat-footed, nowhere near that), leg muscles straining to keep balance . . . to stay alive. I can see how beautiful and sexy she is too, why didn’t I see it before. My God, she’s HOT. She doesn’t have much time left before she passes out, and when she does her legs will give way entirely and her end will come quickly. I realize that I am unconsciously squirming with arousal. The rawhide strap between my legs feels like it’s sawing me in half, but my clit has squeezed its way out and is begging me. I press up against mom’s chest, my ear right between her lush and lovely breasts and listen to her heart beat. It’s racing so, so fast; her heart rate must be 200! I barely touch myself and I orgasm so hard I can barely stay on my feet. Then I know what I’m going to do!

I hold the two keys out in the palm of my hand right in front of her, and I notice that grandma is watching me too. I’m sure she’s wondering why I haven’t set mom free yet. I see questioning looks in both pairs of eyes. I answer those questions by closing my fist around the keys, winding up my arm, and throwing them deep into the nearby brush. Even if I have a change of heart I could never find them there, my decision is now irreversible. Now those two pairs of eyes show no questioning look; there is nothing except raw fear in them. I stand on tip-toe, close against her and lick her tears and kiss and nibble her lips that pout around the gag that fills her mouth. “I’m sorry mom”, I say sadly, “I love you . . . I know you don’t understand but I need to see this”. Her eyes, horrified, desperate, pleading . . . but she KNOWS.

Then I settle back against one of the posts to just watch mom, her agonies both mental and physical. Just looking at her I start to build to an orgasm again. That last huge one made me scream with ecstasy and thinking that someone could possibly be within range of any sounds I put my own gag back in, pull it tight, and lock it. Just in the time since I managed to free myself her rawhide has shrunk until she can’t quite reach the ground, just give the occasional push with her toes to get a quick, tiny bit of breath. I’ve orgasmed as couple more times too. I don’t know what has happened to my libido, I could always do a few repeats, but then I ran down and had to wait a while for a “re-set”. But today? I must have had 7 or 8 already and I feel them coming stronger than ever, no sign of a let-down. In a way my lust has taken over control of my conscious mind, I’ll do anything to keep the orgasms coming.

I see mom’s eyes flickering and stand up to go over to her. It’s almost over for her and I want to FEEL it, not just watch it. I face her on tip-toe (now necessary since she’s lifted almost off her feet) and press myself tight against her, pulling her to me with an arm around her waist. I put my hand between HER legs now, and it only takes one quick rub to set her off. I watch her eyes open wide in surprised ecstasy as she explodes into a huge, shuddering orgasm. I feel her whole body convulsing and spasming from her massive orgasm. I feel the flow of her vaginal fluid as she gushes all over my hand. I lift it to my mouth and lick my fingers. She’s sweet . . . I wonder if she always tasted this way. It’s sad that I never found out before this. Her eyes stare at me sucking her juice off my fingers and she goes into another orgasm. I put my hand down on her clit again and stroke it gently . . . it takes very little to keep her going and she bucks and shudders and gushes her orgasmic juices. I don’t know how long this goes on, time has been “funny” the last couple of hours. And I feel her beautiful, strong body writhing and struggling against mine . . . and it seems like we are having the SAME orgasm. And if anything, hers are even stronger than mine are. I wonder . . . she’s dying, and she knows it, how can she be reacting like this?  I’ve never felt anything like this, never! Not even close! I’m screaming with uncontrollable passion, I was wise to have re-gagged myself. I would have been heard for miles.

But finally I realize that she’s still, unmoving . . . and just then I feel another kind of release. My hand is still between her thighs stroking her clit and suddenly there’s a rush of hot fluid and a slightly funky odor. Her bladder has released, so it must be over now. I just let this last bit of her run over my hands and splash my legs. I lift my hand and taste this too. Musky taste, not unpleasant, but her other juice was so much sweeter. I don’t want this to end, don’t want to let mom go, but I know it’s over. I look at her, still and limp, swaying at the end of the rawhide rope feet just a fraction of an inch (but enough) above the ground. I just look at her for several minutes . . . and have three more powerful orgasms as I see her, dead now, so close to me. Her lovely dark eyes are blank and staring into nowhere. To make sure she’s really gone, I scratch a fingernail across one eye . . . not a flicker of reaction . . . she’s gone for good.

I step back as I release her and back over to lean against that post again. Somehow I see her as even more beautiful now, hanging there, those smooth, strong muscles now immobile, her body glistening with the slick of various fluids that cover her. The last of her urine drips from her toes forming a small puddle in the dirt below. I orgasm again, then once more, then I just look at her my mind momentarily blank. But then I realize that SHE was orgasming strongly, even as the life was being squeezed out of her by the rawhide around her throat. My OWN orgasms were unbelievable, uncontrollable and powerful beyond imagination . . . what were HERS like I wondered? But I finally remember grandma Janine. I look over at her and smile. What I just felt with mom, that absolute ecstasy, that explosive release . . . I’m going to feel that again! Poor grandma was watching everything. She’s not in much physical distress since she was up on that fragment of the old bench. She’s fully conscious, and she’s taken in what just happened completely. I walk slowly toward her, again aroused to a high pitch again.

As I go over to her I take that monstrous ball-gag out of my mouth. My jaw is killing me, and I work it around; but I did need to be silenced I know. My reactions to seeing, feeling, being with mom as she breathed her last were out of my control. Poor grandma Janine, she watched what happened to mom, saw my orgasmic reaction. She knows what will happen to her! But she can’t stop herself from trying; squealing out desperate pleas for mercy through her gag, wildly shaking her head “no” . . . as if any of it would mean anything to me now. I say to her, “I’m sorry grandma, but you know I really have to do this”. She continues to try begging, tears streaming from her eyes. This isn’t what she imagined when we started developing this mutual challenge. But then neither did I . . . or poor mom. I put my arm around grandma’s waist and hold her close as I turn slightly to look back at mom. She’s beautiful, all still and hanging . . . I wonder if her body is cooling . . . I suppose it is. “I love you grandma”, I say, “but this is going to happen . . . I NEED for it to happen”. I know I’m being selfish but I don’t care! I DO need this . . . those unbelievable orgasms I had with mom as I watched her last agonies, as I held her dying, twitching body close, they just made me greedy for MORE. And poor grandma’s going to provide them for me!

I kiss and lick her face, licking away that slimy mixture of tears, perspiration and saliva. I whisper in her ear, “it’s time now grandma” and giggle as she shakes her head “no”. I find that I want to take her gag out and hear her begging me, but I can’t, I already threw her key into the brush and I could never find it now. But I remember how out-of-control my orgasming was with mom and I put my gag back in, pull it deep and tight and lock it in place. Oh how my jaws ache from the stretching that huge ball gives them. But much as I hate it I know it’s necessary, so I don’t scream so loud I bring rescuers, or spectators. I get my arms around her hips and lift her slightly, then kick away that fragment of old bench that was supporting her, enabling her to breathe. The sounds of shrill squealing she makes are getting me so aroused . . . they’re screams in her mind, she’s desperate and terrified, but hearing them muffled so, silenced really is such a power rush I almost come from that alone. But not quite, not just yet.

I try to hold her up for a moment more, but she’s slick and slippery and I can’t do it so I let her settle to the end of her rope. She is standing high on tip-toe, leg muscles trembling with the strain. I face her, putting my arms around her waist and pulling her close like I did with mom. She has a little more fight left in her than mom did and she tries to squirm away from me. She can’t manage that, but she gets into a position where her thigh presses hard between my legs. I get an immediate reaction to that, orgasming in an instant! I look into her wide, frightened eyes . . . only a very few minutes of life left in her . . . I see it in her eyes, she knows. I orgasm again, just from seeing that terrible knowledge in her eyes. And I hug her close to me and feel a shuddering in her body that I recognize is a building orgasm. She starts to come, I see that ecstasy in her eyes mingling with the fright. It must be a confusing feeling . . . I wonder what it’s like for her right now?

But that thought is wiped from my mind by my own rising orgasm. As grandma thrashes, bucks and shudders wildly in the midst of her exquisite, orgasmic death throes, I follow her into that heavenly space of powerful orgasms. It happens again . . . and yet again, the most powerful of all! Grandma Janine is spasming so hard it’s like riding a bucking horse for me. But the ride is worthwhile as I keep my thighs clamped tight around her and my clit pressed hard against her thigh. The flexing of her thigh muscles is like a hand rubbing my clit and it takes nothing more than that to send me into shuddering waves of orgasmic ecstasy. Again and again, I had no idea I could orgasm so strongly, so often, and still want MORE. But I finally realize I’m orgasming alone. Then I notice the feeling of her warm urine running down my thigh. I look at grandma’s face and her eyes are staring into nowhere, a stream of saliva running from the corner of her mouth as it oozes from behind her gag. I put my ear to her chest; no heartbeat, no breathing. Her body is still now, just like moms. I’m breathing as if I’ve just run a marathon. It’s over . . . but I don’t want it to be over. My orgasms were like nothing I’ve ever experienced, never even dreamed of. I don’t want this to end!

My mind is sort of empty, I’m not quite sure what to do now. And I’m absolutely aching for another orgasm. Still panting I walk back over to mom’s beautiful, still body; just hanging there swaying slightly in the light breeze. I run my hand from her breasts down across her belly then her thighs. She’s “cool”. Not fully cooled, not yet, but I can feel the LACK of life in her. I go back to grandma, still and lovely hanging there. I kiss and touch her body, so lovely, so sexy, even now with no life left in it. I’m in an “aimless” state of mind. Regretting what we (well what I) did, and yet glad I did it. I go over to lean against one of the old posts holding up our makeshift gallows, to remember, just to savor . . . not need to decide or do anything. But my hand finds its way between my thighs and begins to work on my clit. I swear it’s an almost automatic reaction, it’s not like I thought about it, it just happens. The first delicious orgasm brings back waves of memory of those I had holding tight to mom and grandma. And I remember their reactions too. Their orgasms seemed to be even more powerful and long-lasting than mine. What DID they feel then, dying and coming all at the same time? Whatever it was must have been powerful, maybe even wonderful? I momentarily wonder if they even realized they were dying right at the end? They had both been in the throes of massive orgasms right up through the moment they hung still and lifeless. I supposed I’d never know exactly what they felt then, much as I wish I could. My clit is insatiable, my hand and fingers go to work again. My clit is enlarged, hard and sore, and my touch brings some mild pain . . . but nothing can stop those urges . . . and I orgasm again and again. Finally it’s over, my clit is satisfied . . . for the moment.

My mind is near-blank, only seeing and sensing what is around me right at this moment. I walk over to the spot where I had been hanging and look up at the rawhide rope, still dangling there. It triggers me to wonder again about what mom and grandma Janine might have felt these last several minutes . . . the last of their lives. I don’t know how long I stand there, staring up at the rope, over at mom and grandma hanging still and beautiful, back up at the rope. I go get the low, broken bench that I had grandma stand on and place it directly below “my” rope. A part of my mind wonders why I did that, the part that KNOWS isn’t telling me. I’m just looking at mom, grandma, that rope hanging above slightly above me. I’m feeling another orgasm building, but I try to hold back on it. I look at the key in my hand, MY key . . . and without thinking I throw it into the brush where mom’s and grandma’s keys lie hidden. I’m moving like a robot now, not under my own control. I feel like I’m watching myself from outside of myself. My clit is throbbing desperately now. I tell myself, “no, this is crazy, don’t do this, NO”! But there’s something stronger inside me now than my rational mind . . . it’s my curiosity and my hunger for orgasms. Those forces are working together, conspiring against my conscious mind. And they’re winning!

I pick up all the locks I dropped below “my spot” along the beam. I step up onto the bit of old bench and lock my knees and my ankles together. I reach up for the hanging piece or still-damp rawhide rope. It has shrunk considerably but it has a lot of shrinkage left in it.  I’m breathing deeply, my heart is pounding as I put the rawhide throat loop around my neck. I’m moving carefully and surely, but steadily, no hesitation . . . I don’t dare hesitate, I might think what I’m doing and frighten myself out of it. But I don’t stop, there is something compelling me . . . my clit is throbbing . . . it’s HUNGRY. A part of my mind is screaming at me “stop, stop, STOP”! I shut it out. I squeeze the lock shut, it clicks onto the loop, locking it to the hanging rope. Now it’s done! There is a conflict of terror and calmness inside me. But I’ll finish the last detail, locking my arms tight together behind me. This part isn’t easy but I strain and struggle and finally it’s done. I’m helpless now, things will take their course. I breathe deep. I can’t change anything now, and somehow that thought calms me.

I know what drove me to this fatal foolishness . . . my desire to KNOW what mom and grandma felt, there at the end. And of course there is only one way to do that, and I have done it . . . and now I will know too. I realize that everything will go more quickly for me than they did for mom and grandma. The hanging loop has shrunk so much that I’m already forced to stand on tip-toe to breathe. I’m immediately conscious of the strain in my leg muscles, especially my calves. I have to stop focusing on it. My clit immediately comes to my assistance. I feel the pain of the crotch rope, now shrunken so much it’s beginning to actually cut into me on either side of my clit. But the clit itself is undamaged and screaming out for pleasure. I twist my hips and clench my thighs and try to “grind one out” without my hands touching as best I can. It works, and it doesn’t take long either, and I feel that sublime feeling, the heat of it, the sense of the uncontrollable, and then . . . the EXPLOSION! My legs have gone limp, I can’t breathe but that adds to the sensations and powers my orgasm. I’ve never, ever in my life felt anything even CLOSE to this, this ecstasy! My vision is blurring and my lungs throbbing from lack of oxygen and I finally manage to get my feet under me properly and on tip-toe again, can draw shallow, ragged breaths. I struggle but I breathe and breathe and get myself back under control.

But I notice my chest is fluttering, enough to jog and jiggle my breasts a bit, than I feel tears flowing down my cheeks. I’m crying and I never registered it. Is it my subconscious telling me I’ll be dead within an hour or two or is it an aftermath of that absolutely exquisite orgasm. But right at the moment I am so uncomfortable, in pain actually. I can feel each dribble of sweat as it snakes its way down my body, itching and scratching like fingernails. And there are endless little rivers of perspiration, the sun is full on me and hot. I feel the humiliation of my saliva forcing its way around that huge gag in my mouth and dribbling slowly and maddeningly down between my breasts and all the way down across my belly, then between and down my tightly bound legs. Another torment I can do nothing about. But now my clit is “talking to me” again! And now that is where my entire consciousness goes, I think of nothing else except that wonderful orgasm I just had and I want another. Everything in me works together, I again squirm and clench my thighs and again . . . OHHHHHH!

I go through this over and over. I often just stare at mom and Grandma Janine just hanging there, so near me, yet completely gone from this world. Only their two beautiful, firm bodies . . . hanging there, swaying slightly in the gentle breeze, perspiration and orgasmic fluids drying on them making them glisten like some pale metal, their last urine pooled under their still feet, puddled there in the wet dust beneath each of them. I am feeling now what they must have felt as I watched them so long ago it seems. I find myself wishing there was someone her to watch ME go through this ordeal. But there isn’t. As I look at them I know that will be me soon, and each time I study them and make that realization all over again I start to sob, but at the same time my arousal starts to build again. Then I go through that cycle of building ecstasy and explosive release, then struggle onto tip-toe to ease some of the constriction of my breath and gasp a few breaths through that slowly, slowly tightening rawhide noose around my throat. More and more difficult each time, finally almost impossible.

There is no real sense of time, but I see by the position of the shadows of the forest around me that it must be afternoon, even mid-to-late afternoon. So I’ve been here, playing this foolish game, for several hours now. And finally I can draw so little air that my consciousness is hazy and my vision is blurred. I feel the shrunken rawhide cutting into my throat. My desperately stretched toes scramble for a grip on the wobbling bench beneath me. I can only barely, with great, straining effort push myself up enough to draw a tiny breath . . . not quite enough to keep me going. My scrambling toes finally knock the bench over and now I hang there, neck painfully stretched long, just like mom’s and Grandma Janine’s. The noose is now tight as can be around my throat . . . there will be NO MORE breath for me. I know it’s time, I whine and kick my bound legs in futility. I know it will do no good but my body reflexes battle on to survive, even as I know it is useless now. And still, my clit calls out . . . One more . . . ONE MORE. As I struggle, whine and kick, I also find my hips are twisting and my thighs clenching yet again. This is not a conscious action, my clit has literally taken over control of my body here in its final moments. The build-up is a long one, and when the orgasm finally comes it is IMMENSE!

I am in pain all over, empty lungs burning, muscles quivering with stress, crotch feeling like it is being cut in half by that tight rawhide thing, jaws aching for that huge gag, but that is a “background” feeling, and none of it interferes with my building orgasm. I realize it will be my last one, the very last act of my life in fact, but somehow that only adds to my arousal. I’m bucking and thrashing in uncontrollable ecstasy, almost unconscious, I can’t see anything anymore, and then it happens. I feel the release, feel the warm stream run down my now limp and quivering legs. I sob with the humiliation of peeing on myself. My heart is beating so hard and fast it actually hurts. Pain everywhere and now in my heart, right in the center of my chest. My brain is now flickering dimly, and I know I’m dying, maybe a matter of seconds left to me. “What will it be like to die”, I wonder? Just at exactly that time both sets of vibrators deep inside my holes go off on high settings. Then my clit takes over entirely and I am in another world, consumed!

And the wave hits! OH GOD . . . THE FEELING . . . ohhhhh . . . OHHHH . . . OHHHH . . . OHHHH . . . OHHHH . . . OHHHH . . . ! ! ! ! . . . OHH . . . OH . . . Oh . . . oh . . . o . . .o . . . o . . . o . . . . . . . . . . . .