Sylvia panted rhythmically as she jogged up the sidewalk along the calm suburb street. On her back, the antelope morph was wearing a small backpack. A short knotted yellow and red top covering her breasts, exposing her white belly fur between it and her grey blue jeans shorts. She looked still like a teenager though she approaching twenty. Black lines run down her sides, her back covered in beige brown fur with still some white spots on it. As a 'lope, she didn't need running shoes as her legs ended in hooves perfect for running distances. But her mind was not on running, but on the silver dagger in her backpack, as today her life would end. The suburb eventually ended, too, the road ending in a dead end and continuing as a narrow foot path only. She had run on it many a day, and knew the forest it lead to well. She followed the normal route for a while but eventually she went sideways, of path and deep into the forest. On the way she thought over what she was about to do. For month, if not even years she had had this fantasy. But now that her best friend had died in a car crash, she had the determination to leave everything behind and actually do it. She left no one behind. Her teenage boyfriend had ended 'it' the previous year because he started a thing with a stupid snobby sheep morph he now went to college with, her parents had both died in the war. Still her heart raced as she went along a small hidden creek and then took another turn at the old oak to where the secluded meadow was. It was her secret spot she had found as a child and always came to when she was sad or needed alone time, of course she had decided to do it here. But now with the dagger bumping the backpack against her ribs with every step, so close to fulfillment, she felt cold despite the warm sun and the running, was shivering and lightheaded. Sylvia shook her head, discarding the fear and any second thoughts and instead thinking about the thrill of it. Kneeling down in the green grass, she let her backpack slip of her shoulders and down next to her. Then she unwound her top, exposing her fur covered breasts to the afternoon sunlight. She lifted herself a bit, went kneeling, and unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, sliding them down over her legs, then turning around, completely out of them. The backpack was closed with a leather knot. Sylvia opened it and took a small box and a sheathed dagger with an artfully crafted handle out of it, instead put her clothes inside and closed it again. Finally she threw it across the small meadow, where it landed in the shadow of a bush. She wouldn't need it anymore. Holding the dagger for a second, she brushed the skillfully carved handle with her fingers. Some heritage piece of her grandfather, she didn't know what purpose it solved originally. But it looked purposeful, better suited than just some ordinary knife. She placed it on the ground in front of her, then opened the box. It held a handful of pills she had acquired for today, some string and some other medical stuff, scissors, a band aid, some string. Some of it she had a vague idea what to use it for others she had no clue why she brought it. Kneeling down and breathing calmly, Sylvia tried to sort out her thoughts for a second, eyes closed. But her decision was firm, and anticipation was building so she eagerly took the pills. They were from the medic faculty of the college and would numb any pain. Just in case. Pain was what had her make stop the last time. She looked at her belly, searched the small scar where she had pierced her skin with the dagger before, so close to opening her belly, spilling her insides out. But she had stopped, the pain making any further cut impossible. Not this time though, this time she would go through with it. Her fingers painting an invisible line from the scar up through her bellybutton to where her ribs started, her other hand searched downwards where she had gotten moist, and probed slightly where it felt good. The painkillers were quick, and she had taken a high dose. Soon she felt her fingertips tingle a bit and her head felt even more lightheaded. Eventually she decided not to wait any longer. Sunlight reflected brightly of the blade of the dagger, as she pulled it free, pointed the razor sharp tip at herself. Carefully she dragged away the hairs to expose the small scar, then poked it with the dagger tip as she had done many times before. Only this time she wasn't going to stop. Bracing herself, she straightened a bit, kneeling upright. Then she pressed the daggers tip into herself, holding the handle with both hands. She felt a familiar sharp stinging where the tip pierced her outermost skin layer. Slowly she increased pressure until suddenly the dagger slid in, through her skin, muscles and into her belly. Sylvia gasped, looking down at her. The dagger had slid in two or three inches. A tiny rim of blood marking its entrance, a single drop forming on its bottom side, growing, then slowly moving along the bright blade, until if fell down, staining the grass. She shuddered as she probed the dagger, pulling it out again a tiny bit. The blade was about three quarters of an inch wide and had cut through her skin exactly where her old scar had been hidden. But this time was different. It still hurt, but the searing unbearable pain of the blade piercing into her abdomen simply wasn't the same. It was more about a sharp yet dull nagging, numbed down more and more by the pills. The antelope probed the dagger in a bit again, now sliding easily. She felt the cool blade between her bowels. For a while she just enjoyed the sight of the blade reaching inside of her. It turned her on, made her wet and hard. But she wasn't going to stop there. Instead she cut upwards as she slid it further out, careful not to cut her inerts. It hurt more, her skin was still sensitive. Wincing, she stopped at her belly button, pulling the dagger out and putting it on the ground in front of her. The silvery blade was stained with a taint of red. Her belly now had a narrow red slit on it, throbbing with pain. But thanks to the pills, that felt almost pleasant, pulsing, agitating. Sylvia finally wanted to see her bowels. She probed the wound with a finger at first. Would it hurt much? It did hurt, but not as much as she had expected. Easily she slid inside, first one finger, than more, felt the slippery inside skin, the sticky surface of her bowels. Eagerly she stuck her whole hand into herself. A numb pain in her abdomen emitted as she pressed against something in there. She tensed, and as her muscles clenched she felt the pressure against her fingers, gasping again. With every breath everything in there shifted, tensed and relaxed again. Exciting, frightening, confusing, expected and still so different. Her left hand went again down between her legs, massaging her clit. Then she inserted three fingers into her natural orifice and probed upwards, slightly pulling the skin forward. Would she feel this inside of her? Shifting carefully she stuck her right forearm further in, aimed downwards. Through between the slippery bowels and further down. She felt what she thought was her womb, and her bladder making her feel a bit as if she needed to pee. Her eyes closed, her cheeks trembling she clenched her left on her clit, then rhythmically probed inside deeper. She could feel every response of her hip muscles inside, almost reach her own fingers inside of her. Opening her eyes again, her glance fell upon the sheath of the dagger. It had the right size. Slowly kneeling higher up, she grabbed it and pushed it in between her legs, feeling its shape through her inside skin between her fingers inside her. A while she played with the toy halfway inside, halfway outside, moaning, pushing it in and then back out from within, until she couldn't hold the pose any longer and sunk back on her knees, trembling. As she finally pulled out her hand from inside her, the white fur of her belly was stained red around and below the cut. But she didn't care. Instead she looked at a small slippery loop of her own entrails that her hand had accidentally pulled outside, squeezing through the opening in her belly. She felt the touch of cool air on her dangling out insides. Clenching her belly muscles a bit more she felt more of her inerts squeeze out, watching them bulge from the wound. Would they all spill out of her just like that? Sylvia supported them with her hand, pushing them in a bit, then curiously making them squeeze out further by clenching her belly. The bulge grew until a certain point, but then things got stuck uncomfortably, going no further. After playing with herself a while Sylvia decided to widen the opening more. She gently pressed against the red slimy bulge with both hands, pushing her bowels back in, guiding them through the opening. Somehow they seemed to arrange differently inside, feeling uncomfortable, as if not everything would fit. Uneasy she bent left and right until eventually all her bowels were inside. But the slit in her belly gaped considerably more open than before and she could still see her entrails. Sylvia hesitated a bit. There was still a way back, the injury she had inflicted upon herself was severe but not lethal. She might get an infection, but considering she never got sick, even if all her classmates had the fever, she didn't think that would trouble her more than a few days. But then again the wound was too big already to hide it easily, big enough to let her guts spill in a sudden movement. That would be hard to explain. She could maybe claim she had been attacked and robbed or something. But then she discarded those thoughts, wanted to continue where she had stopped, so she grabbed the dagger again. Biting her lips, she forced her decision, then inserted the blade in the now widened opening. She guarded the tip with her finger, pushing her entrails out of the way, not wanting to cut them open, Then, tensing, she pulled the blade upwards. Again she gasped at the weird feeling, almost like opening a zipper on her belly. The blade slid through easily almost up to her ribcage, when a searing pain made her stop suddenly as the blade pierced against her diaphragm. Sylvia tensed and dropped the blade, needing a second to recover from this unexpected feeling. But as she relaxed a new sensation forced her to stare down at herself. With her belly cut all the way, her skin split open, revealing a rather wide gap. And her inerts just started oozing out with a weird sucking, pulling feeling, taking away her breath. She tried to hold them up with her hands but the slippery mass just spilled over them, not holdable, its own weight pulling the rest out of her with a weird sucking noise. Over and between her legs. Warm and wet against her agitated privates. Trembling, Sylvia stared at her bigger intestines dangling out of her opened belly, right between her hands. Its walls were slightly transparent, she could see the small black droplets that started to build up inside. She tried to breathe, but somehow it didn't work as it should. Panic grew up inside her. Somehow everything in her seemed to pull her down. Sylvia fell forward on her hands, but that made it went worse. Her stomach dangled inside, towards the gaping opening, touching her skin right and left. She tried to move back up, but her entrails on the floor kept her down mercilessly. Instead she slid sideways and dropped on her side on the grassy meadow. Her head started spinning, her eyes wide with panic. Seconds turned into eons as she instinctively tried to fight for her life. Finally, she managed to take in a gasp of air. The shifted weight inside her allowed her to breathe shallowly with her chest muscles. It still didn't work right somehow but at least she didn't feel like she was about to suffocate anymore. Sylvia closed her eyes for a bit, waiting for the world to stop spinning. There was almost no pain now, the pills did an excellent job. Only a numb feeling on her belly and on what was supposed inside it told her that things weren't right. Opening her eyes she saw her intestines still in a heap on the ground next to her, slightly shifting with internal movement. Would she be able to put them back inside she wondered? Then again wasn't it what she wanted, having them out here right in front of her? She didn't really know what to do next. The pile smelled. It was more than the metallic stench of blood that soaked her fur, it was combined with the slightly sweet heavy smell of intestines. Sylvia didn't really know whether this turned her on or disgusted her. Maybe both. And then again this was all part of herself, it couldn't be bad. Her fingers followed the red pipe that came out of her belly, probably coming from her stomach to the pile of intestines in front of her. Tugging on it wasn't a good idea, it made her wanting to puke and took away her breath again. Blood vessels marked a net pattern alongside the tube reaching all along in. It was surprisingly firm, much stronger than she would have expected. Almost like a rope. As she loosened up more of it from the slippery pile of bowels the tension inside her eased, letting her stomach and other connected organs slip further back where they belonged. Sylvia played with the "rope", tying it around her arm, then around her leg, her thighs, between through her legs. Bondage always had fascinated her a bit, but this was a new level. She came with her own living ropes. She continued binding her colon around her, slid it tightly between her legs. Bending forward, still laying on the floor she took a glance into her empty stomach cavity. Except it wasn't empty. Her womb was still in it. It was sensitive to touch, but what really drove her senses wild was pulling it, pulling her vagina inwards. Again she searched for the sheath of the dagger, using it as a dildo, grabbing it on the inside through her vaginal walls, moaning. Soon she came hard, using her hands and her "ropes" to play with her body. But she continued, came again and again, until she had no more strength. Moaning, trembling she humped her hip into her bowel made binds, her mind already blind from ecstasy, her vision faded, the world went black, and Sylvia had passed out. Her body laid in the grass, tainted over and over with blood, twitching, trembling, spasming. Somewhere her inerts had ripped, spilling brownish things on the grass around her. Eventually her body went still. Flies buzzed around her, crawled over her spilled guts, and into her gaping belly. If anyone would have come to the secluded meadow now, he would have thought her a misused carcass, victim to some cruel pointless ritual. Juices were flowing out of her vagina, red, yellow, white and brown mixed. A trickle of blood was rinsing out of the corner of her mouth, mixing with the green of half digested leaves she had barfed when her stomach had cramped. Yet the watchers eye would have been deceived. Sylvias body still had a spark of live in her, her chest heaving ever so slightly now and then, though deeply unconscious. After what could have been hours, the sun set. Cooler winds of the evening brushed over the meadow. Flies buzzed, searching for the prime spots of Sylvias rotting guts. Her consciousness was still gone, but something was pulling her back. She was cold, very cold, nothing inside her keeping the warmth. Yet it wasn't cold enough to kill her, maybe it was rather the cold that had kept her alive. And now there was pain. Mind numbing, throbbing, burning. Her immune system fighting a hopeless battle against death, decay and maggots. The painkillers had lost their effect, merciful endorphins only partially taken their place, dulling the torture to the bearable. Gasping, sputtering, spitting out what blocked her windpipe, Sylvia came to herself and blinked. It took her a while to realise where she was, what had happened. She felt the flies on her fur, maggots crawling inside her. A cloud of flies lifted when movement came into her body. Sylvia coughed, spitting more blood. Everything smelled of decay and rotting flesh. Eventually she managed to lift herself up. Shivering, weak. She knew there was no way back now, hadn't expected to ever wake up again at this point. Her body was fighting a lost battle against death, and she got the privilege to witness it. But she couldn't bring herself to lead this battle, it was not what she had wanted. Her body had not the strength for sexual pleasure now. She barely felt herself anyway, everything was cold and numb. But she knew what she wanted to do, the burning pain despite the cold dictated it, and she longed for it. And only a few feet away was the key. Her dagger. Getting there was another story. It felt like an eternity to drag herself there. Her rotting guts pulling her back, her legs not wanting to respond to her commands. But finally she had the silver blade in her hand, lifted it up. She felt her own weak pulse in her neck, such a fragile spark of live behind a delicate layer of skin. With all her strength she trusted the dagger into her neck from the right, until the tip of the blade pierced through the left, a gagging sound escaping her as she felt it sever her foodpipe. Then she cut it forward severing her throat. Her last moan turned into gurgling, warm blood spurted out of her, rinsing down through her fur over her chest. She felt her life leak out of her fast now, a bit with every heartbeat, but the pain was still there, the end didn't feel close enough. So Sylvia lifted the dagger to her throat once more and cut backwards. A last glance up at the evening sky, where the first stars of the summer night were showing, then as another tendon got cut, her head dropped backwards in an unnatural angle. Sylvia saw her own tail twitching on the ground as her head dangled from her shoulders. Her body felt like a jolt of electricity as her spine was overstretched, her balance gone, but she still recovered, still felt the pain, still held the dagger firm. Firm enough to make one final cut. The blade went true, and Sylvia fell, fell down along her back until her nose hid the ground with a thud. The pain was finally gone, so was the cold. Neither could she feel her body as it jerked around next to her, her arm throwing the dagger away in uncontrolled movement. As her legs kicked, almost hitting her head, her open belly came into view and she caught a glimpse inside at her dangling stomach and other remaining organs. Between her legs, liquids spurted out of her vagina, clenching uncontrollably, and her last thought were what it would feel to eat herself out. "Silly me" she thought, "I wouldn't feel a thing, my head is .. cut off...". The image of it still flickering in front of her eyes, the world around went dark. Her fantasy taunting her mind with strange images as it run out of oxygen. Then Sylvias eyes turned out of focus, glancing expressionless into the nothing. Her body, too was finally still and stopped twitching, some last drops of blood trickling out of her severed neck. Only the flies kept buzzing and the ants kept crawling, enjoying this wonderful gift they had received.