(3/3)

“Doing okay, Chelsea? That was pretty intense.”

Greg was so sweet. One of her favorites. One of her favorite potential executioners. Her favorite potential murderers. 

“Mmm hmm.”

She was at the edge of the cliff. “Do you ever take a turn, Greg?”

She thought about Greg fucking her. She wondered why she’d never really thought about it before. Her killer. Her murderer. She thought about him giving her a good long fuck and then hitting the button himself.

“Can’t. Ethics violation to have sex with a patient.”

“Yeah, but I’m not *really* a patient…” She imagined his cock thrusting into her. His hands on her. His come in her. He always asked her if today was the day. Maybe today was the day. Maybe today was the day for him.

“Sorry. I’d lose my job, probably never be able to work in the industry again. Nice as it is to think about, it’s not worth it.”

Chelsea rolled the sentence around in her mind. “Not worth it. He doesn’t think I’m worth it. My life isn’t worth it. I’m worthless.” She was at the edge. Right at the edge. She was breathing. 

The door opened again.

“Hey man, is it cool if we both give her a go?” 

“Yeah, that’s allowed, right?”

Two men had entered.


“As long as everyone’s clear on the risks, It’s up to her,” Greg responded. “But, you know, she can’t give the command if her mouth is full.”

“Nah, that’s cool, we just wanna fuck her, not snuff her.”

0.02%. She’d done the research on that figure. There had been studies. She’d done some googling. In a private browser window, obviously, to be safe.

“Yes. I’m fine with that.”

Two hundredths of a percent. A disproportionate number of that percentage was when a threesome was involved. Something about the extra vibrations, the way the second man might sometimes grip the edges of the guillotine.

“Awesome. Thanks!”

She took a deep breath. There was a cock in her mouth, and another in her pussy.

She closed her eyes. Her face was being fucked. Her lungs were burning. Of course, sometimes a man would just choke a woman to death. That wasn’t included in the 0.02%. She couldn’t breathe now. She felt herself getting closer to the edge of the cliff. Her toes almost off. She couldn’t breathe. The cock was thrusting down into her throat. Men were advised not to fuck her throat. Men were advised that if they accidentally snuffed a woman this way, they could be held criminally liable for her death. She couldn’t breathe. The waiver she signed specifically recommended against it. She couldn’t breathe.

He pulled out and came across her face. She gasped for air. There was sperm in her eye and it burned. Her throat felt rough. She was in control. She was still alive. She was breathing. She was safe. She was taking deep breaths. She was at the edge of the cliff. The man in her pussy came, almost as an afterthought. She barely felt it. They were gone.

“Need another break, Chel?”

“Yeah. I could use some water.”

—

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was matted with sweat and come. Her eyes—one bloodshot, unfamiliar—looked back at her. She saw a wild animal in the mirror. She wasn’t there. This animal that almost looked like her was there. She saw the beast whisper “Release” to her with her own mouth. She was standing up. She wasn’t strapped in. She could say it louder. It was safe. “Release,” she said, clearly, in her normal speaking voice. It felt good. The rumble of it in her abused throat was soothing. She checked the time on her phone. She had time for one or two more. She always wanted more, but she had to leave herself time to get cleaned up and calmed down. Time to fix her makeup and her hair so she could stroll innocently back into her real life for another week.

She slid a hand down to feel her pussy, dripping with come. How many men? She’d kind of lost count. She knew it wasn’t too many, but it was still too much for stupid worthless animal like her remember. Animals can’t count. She ran her finger around her clit, staring into her own eyes. “Release,” she said again. Loudly. Clearly. Unambiguously. 

She closed her eyes, took another drink of water, took a few deep breaths. She wiped off her face.

—

This had to be the end. Her last for today. She knew her limits. She’d been edging herself all day, keeping herself from coming, and she knew the endorphin high was dangerous. She needed to come, and she needed to ask to be let out of the guillotine. Right after this last man.

She grunted as he entered her. She felt raw. Guys had been using lube, but still. She had to come, though. She needed that rel…she needed to come so she could get herself cleaned up and not spend the rest of the day a drooling mess.

She thought about the man from the reception area. What if a man like that were the last man to ever touch her? Maybe he was fucking her right now. She imagined that she felt his belly against her body. She imagined that those moans she heard were coming out of his mouth. That’s all she deserved. A mediocre, anonymous man. That’s all she was worth. Tomas could do much better. He was such a wonderful husband. She didn’t deserve him. She deserved a dumpy man who had to come to a place like this to get his rocks off. She deserved an old, bald, fat, short man. She deserved less than that.

Her pussy was a dull ache. The man fucking her was not really even necessary at this point. She was so close to the edge.

She mouthed the word. She silently mouthed the word with each thrust. “Release.”

It was time. She wanted to come. She needed to come. She needed to end it. She thought of Tomas and his kind brown eyes looking down at her. “Release.” She tasted the idea of his disappointment on her lips as she said the words. She was a worthless, base animal. “Release.” She was a set of holes to be used, not a human who deserves love. “Release,” she whispered. She was so close. So close to the edge. She just needed to tip herself over. She just needed a little bit more. “Release.”

“Fuuuuck,” she heard the man say in his nasal voice. Maybe it really was that man. Had he been here all day? “Release,” she moaned quietly in response. Such an ugly, disgusting little man, but all she deserved. She was coming. “Release.” She was finally coming. Her whole body was tense and shuddering. All over, every nerve ending on fire, a day’s worth of pent up arousal finally paying off. “Release.” She felt like she was flying. She opened her eyes wide, a smile on her face. She saw Greg. What a curious expression on his face.

She couldn’t see the blade.

She told Greg to let her out. She’d gotten her orgasm. She was done. Her mouth didn’t make a sound. Weird.

She replayed the last couple of seconds in her mind. She had just whispered it. She’d been so safe, so careful. She was going to get all cleaned up and go home to Tomas tonight, the perfect picture of a doting and faithful wife.

She’d been coming. She’d whispered the word. She’d been moaning. Her vocal cords… What was she looking at? Where was the blade?

She felt like she was flying.

She felt like her whole body was numb with pleasure.

Numb. Numb with pleasure.

She couldn’t feel her body.

She felt—