Die Happy LLC - Lasting Bliss

I always suspected my life was just prelude to something wonderful. I had no idea what that was, but I always had a sense that my destiny lay in some distant place and time and never dreamed I'd find it in Las Vegas on a gyno-sex chair.

When I graduated high school I moved to Las Vegas and got a job as a fluffer at Die Happy LLC because I was bisexual and I found assisting people with their sexual suicides was the most arousing thing ever. No matter how they chose to go out I wasn't squeamish at all as I kept them horny and eager.

I didn't qualify as a Helper because they only hire people with medical training for that position. As a Helper you need an intimate knowledge of human anatomy to deliver pleasure during intense and invasive end-of-life sessions and make them last as long as possible.

My job was to make sure our clients started and stayed horny and orgasmic until the end. The only medical thing I was allowed to do was to assist clients by giving them a Trinity Cocktail popper if they chose or when it got rough for them to pop one into their mouths or any other available orifice without their consent. We promise a happy ending, not one of horror and pain.

The Cocktail has come a long way since the Trinity girls were executed with them. The new ones start working almost instantly and orgasms start within seconds and get stronger over time.

I loved giving people sexual pleasure for their assisted suicide. I loved watching them cumming and squirming as they were hanged, impaled, or eviscerated.

I even dreamed of becoming a client myself one day if I could find the right way to go. The idea of dying in the midst of a powerful orgasm was arousing and alluring.

One day I helped fluff a girl who opted for a quick midline gutting from sternum to mound while strapped to an inclined table. Her name was Jessie.

"I want to feel it happen." Jessie told me as I got her ready, "I want to feel my intestines gush from my open belly."

Then she lowered her eyes and blushed.

"I want that gush and for someone to play inside me after I'm open. I want to feel hands inside my belly."

"Do you think that will make you cum?"

She looked up into my eyes and I'll never forget her haunted look as she said; "I hope so." she said breathlessly, "One hand inside working my g-spot and the other playing with my stomach."

"You want to sick up."

"Yes."

I understood loving to sweet feeling of regurgitation because one of my thrills was to throat male clients as they were done, gagging as they thrust into my mouth and sicking up when they spurted their last orgasm down my gullet.

I fluffed Jessie as her Helpers got her room ready. I sucked her clit and her nipples; all three hard as bullets. I fingered her pussy, grinding her g-spot until it swelled into a fat lump on the roof of her pussy. I made her cum three times before they came and got her and I followed, Trinity popper in hand in case it was needed.

Her rising fear was obvious as they secured her wrists and ankles and tilted the table forward and her male Helper injected the centreline of her belly to numb it against the cut. When she was numbed, he touched the soft hollow under her sternum with the knife and waited for her to tell him to start.

Jessie's body was perfect, her face beautiful, and knowing that perfect beauty was about to be desecrated made me sad.

"... okay ..." she gasped as she stared into her Helper's eyes, "Do it."

And he did; penetrating under her sternum and sawing rapidly downward through skin, fat, and muscle until her belly splayed open and her small intestines gushed out on to her lap the way she wanted.

I admit I felt shiver-bumps over my body as her Helper reached both hands inside her open belly, working her g-spot and her stomach from the inside; I quivered as she sicked-up over her chest while he milked girl cum out of her pussy.

She rode her way through at least five strong orgasms that way, her arms and legs pulling against her bindings, until she started to go.

Her Helper let go of her stomach then and just gently massaged her pussy as she faded, I witnessed something that forever changed me; she stared at nothing as her pelvis slowly curled, her body quivered, her bowels gurgled as they curled and coiled around his wrist.

She looked like she was in a trance, her perfect body ruined, her belly splayed open like a slaughtered calf, riding a gentle pleasure in the midst of this asked-for carnage as she regurgitated what remained in her stomach.

Jessie lasted a long time with slow orgasms, longer than any other girl I'd seen eviscerated.

It felt mystical to me and I felt a sexual pull deep in my own belly. I tried to imagine what she was feeling; an end of life bliss flowing through her body as her stomach contents gurgled up her gullet and her pussy gaped and flowed. There was no grimace of pain; no fear; no horror. Just a peaceful and gentle ecstasy as her life faded by degrees until at last she slumped limp, her eyes dulled, and her bladder releasing.

"... holy shit ..." I whispered as her Helper pulled his hand out of her belly with a wet slurp.

My legs trembled, my stomach quivered, my pussy oozed in my underpants. I rushed to the staff washroom and locked myself in a stall, pulling my slacks and underpants to my knees and masturbated like a mad thing, sicking up my breakfast down the bib of my white uniform as Jessie's lasting bliss replayed in my mind.

I wanted to feel what she felt; not so much the evisceration and organ play but that long blissful aftermath. The aftermath that appeared so rapturous and gently sexual; what she felt after her explosive orgasms ended as that state of bliss swallowed her soul.

It haunted me.

I dreamed it. I imagined it. I craved it.

I couldn't let it go.

At least once a week the staff holds sex parties to blow off the sexual steam collected and stored in our bodies after gifting clients orgasms as we destroy their bodies.

We deserve that pleasure because we give Die Happy clients absolute bliss as they were asphyxiated, impaled, eviscerated; whatever their imaginations can invent, and we find a way to do it so they reached a peak of pleasure just before their lives end.

But Jessie lasted beyond that, feeling something I could only imagine; lingering in that foggy realm between life and death still lost in that mysterious pleasure.

I always went to the sex parties because I'm a slut and love girl/girl sex. I adore having my pussy fisted, but after Jessie, I wanted to feel something deeper. I confessed my need to a Helper I was close to; a sinuous girl named Charlee who'd fisted me before.

"You want to feel it deep in your belly." Charlee said, "I get that."

I told her about Jessie and how she outlasted her plan to find herself in a sexual fugue. I told her my obsession with it.

"You want to feel that."

"Wouldn't you?"

"I'm not big on regurgitation, but I don't mind when our clients do it. It must be sucha release." she said, "Let's see if we can't get you there."

So we worked on it.

Every night I wore ever larger butt plugs when I slept and at the sex parties and on playdates in our apartments Charlee worked on my bumhole. She opened me, loosened me, pushing her hand deeper each time and I loved it. It got so I would cum hard without having my pussy touched as her hand pushed deep up my bum.

Charlee gave me my taste of what Jesse felt at last week's sex party. It was an all-girl affair with current and past Helpers and a few upcoming clients indulging in a fisting marathon. The room was loud, hot and humid, reeking of sweat, ripe pussy, and open rectums, and Charlee was going deeper than ever.

"I'm going to touch your stomach from the inside." she promised, slathered her arm with lube and fucking me slowly, pushing deeper and deeper, forcing her hand through my core; dragging my descending colon to the midline of my belly and driving me crazy.

I stayed on my knees, my bum high and proud in that wanton 'fuck me hard' position as she gave me the fisting of my life. All around us were other Helpers and guests cumming by being fisted or fisting themselves, and Charlee was relentless with me.

I was sweating, dripping girl cum, screaming my way through orgasm after orgasm but I wanted more and told her so;

"I want more!" I cried out, my voice hoarse and ragged

"You want more?"

"Yaaaasssss!" I screamed, my voice as raw as my sexual hunger.

I felt her open her hand inside my descending colon when it was close to my stomach and I lost it; she was wearing my colon like a mitten, reaching deeper and deeper. I felt it teasing the underside of my stomach.

"Please don't stop! Please don't stop! Please don't stop!" I screamed over and over, "Please-please-please-please!"

Then I felt it; her hand opened wide enough to cup my excited stomach and the rolling orgasm that had been pulsing in my belly exploded. She gripped my stomach and squeezed it, pulling on it, stretching my gullet, making me sick-up violently and cum so hard I saw stars and passed out.

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When I awoke I was on my back, Charlee's arm was still inside me, still wearing my colon like a mitten, her fingers still teasing my now empty stomach.

I moaned.

"Feel good, baby?"

"... yes ..." I whispered, feeling like I was in a dream.

"Want to go all the way? Get opened and played with?"

I lay still, staring up at the ceiling as the fisting orgy still raged around us, feeling her hand so deep in my belly, still teasing my stomach, keeping me physically hypnotized.

".... yes ..." I whispered, "... will you do me?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Of course."

"... please ... oh please ..."

We couldn't do it that night because Charlee would get in trouble. But I made it legal by signing the forms for an assisted sexual suicide that would leave her blameless and gave them to her. We just had to find the perfect time to do it.

I spent my last day fluffing girls before their impalements and eviscerations, witnessing their end of life orgasms and the stillness of their aroused and ruined bodies as light faded from their eyes. I'd lifted poppers to the lips of those who struggled near the end to ensure their final moments were saturated with pleasure, and through it all I saw Jessie's face as she lay lost in her sexual rapture; a rapture I craved.

Charlee and I found ourselves alone after we showered at the end of our shifts. I'd already dressed and was downing a bottle of strawberry yoghurt drink as I watched her; her lean body aroused me as she slipped on a top and pulled up her shorts. Suddenly a desire rushed through my belly from my bumhole to my throat and I knew tonight was the night.

"I need it." I gasped, trembling through this onslaught of lust, "I need it now."

Charlee's kind eyes studied me, knowing what 'it' was.

"You're sure?" she asked and I nodded, downing the rest of my yoghurt drink.

"Come on then." she said, taking my hand and helping me to stand on trembling legs, leading me to the equipment room. Die Happy was shut down for the night and we were the only ones there.

She spread a plastic tarp to catch the mess and laid me back onto a gyno-sex chair, letting me hook my arms over the looped grips, then spreading my thighs and laying them in the stirrups. She moved away and I heard cabinets open and close and she returned with a loaded hypodermic needle, a Trinity popper and a gut hook knife designed to gut deer.

"Midline or lap cut?" she asked, and I remembered Jesse's midline.

"Lap." I said, imagining the feeling of my insides slopping out of the bottom of my belly.

Carefully she used to needle to numb my lower belly.

"Open." she said, lifting the popper to my lips, and I closed my lips over it. The popper spat the mixture into my mouth and I swallowed.

"Just relax and let it work." she said as it did; a warmth grew in my belly, my nipples puckered and tightened, my pussy began to grool and my bumhole yawned open. She ripped my top open, baring my tits and sucking my puckering nipples hard

"So good." I sighed and closed my eyes as she cut my shorts and panties off with the gut hook

"I can just help you cum and we can both go home." she offered, "We don't need to do this."

"No." I said, feeling the tightening of my first orgasm, "Tonight's the night. It has to be."

And I close my eyes and she does me ...

I feel the dull bite of the gut hook pop through skin, fat, and muscle, puncturing the soft hollow on the right side of my pelvis then the electric pull across my lower belly following my bikini line. The blade withdraws and I feel my belly slump inside, the muscles that cradled the bottom of my belly all my life are split and the cool air of the room wafts across my protruding insides.

I start cumming as she slides a hand inside me and pulls ropes of intestines out of my belly. Then I'm cumming harder as she reaches inside with both hands; one encircling my pussy from inside, squeezing and pumping it like a cock; the other first teasing then palpating my stomach.

I erupt then, spewing a creamy mess violently up my gullet and over my tongue as her hands work and work and work, wringing orgasm after orgasm from my belly. It's an overwhelming marathon that I'd witnessed so many times and now know it intimately.

At the peak of this perverse sexual storm I feel a sudden release; a rapid calming. I realize this is what dying feels like. It's not frightening. It's not traumatic. It's gentle and warm and so sensual.

"... oh ... fuck ..." I sigh as her hands continue to play inside me, gentler now; caressing, stroking.

I hear and feel my bowels gurgling as they curl and twist inside me, knowing they're dying. I feel my pussy tightening and releasing in gentle orgasmic waves. I feel my stomach slowly contracting as she strokes it and I taste the foamy spit and strawberry yoghurt rising up my gullet to flow from my flaccid lips. Though I gag, burp, and heave occasionally, this isn't vomiting; this is a blissful regurgitation like the grool I feel leaking from my pussy.

I think of Jessie. Her perfect body opened and ruined leaving her in a slow lingering arousal as she faded.

Now it's me; and it is slow and it is pure bliss and it is fading. I feel warm and comforted as Charlee continues to play inside me and I'm so grateful to her.

I know my entire life was just prelude to these sweet final moments ...

... this gentle lasting bliss.