"Rayne & Sheila guro" By robblu (https://pastebin.com/u/robblu) URL: https://pastebin.com/qCd7mCrQ Created on: Saturday 20th of February 2016 10:20:07 PM CDT Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 03:40:07 AM UTC Rayne & Sheila Some girls don't care about orgasms - or at least they say they don't. Rayne was one who truly didn't want anything sexual about her assisted suicide. Her request was simple: "Gut me. Don't make me linger, don't make it sexy. Just gut me." She wanted a midline gutting from her cunt to sternum and she wanted it done quickly without foreplay or aftercare. When Rayne arrived it was - ironically - raining hard. As she walked through my house and downstairs to the suicide room leaving a trail of wet footprints she reiterated what she'd told me she wanted in her email; "I want to be kneeling like those Japanese girls, but instead of across I want it up. I want you to push the knife into my vagina and slice straight up to my upper belly." I explained that going through her cunt wouldn't work - there's a bone in the way. "Fine. Then start there and pull the knife out and up so it slices through my clitoris on the way to my belly." I agreed I could do that, but let her know it would hurt like nothing had ever hurt before. "Good.” she said with a scowl on her face, "I want it to hurt. You said you supplied intense assisted suicide, right?" I couldn't argue with her. When we got to the suicide room she stripped off her clothes; shucking her jacket, kicking off her boots, peeling off her tight jeans and panties, then her loose top and bra. It wasn't until she was naked that she noticed the large black plastic body-bag that lay zipped open in the centre of the floor - it made a nice soft waterproof container that would prevent blood and viscera [and whatever else her body expelled] from flowing out onto the floor. It made her pause and I think her face paled just a little - she was a tough cookie. "That's for ... the body. I mean ... it's for my body after ..." "Yes it is." I said simply, picking up my 119 buck knife and kneeling in front of the body-bag. Rayne walked slowly around the bag, staring at the shiny black synthetic rubber as I poured a coating of lubricant on the blade. When she was ready, she stepped into the body bag as delicately as a Victorian lady would step into a hot bath. She lowered herself to her knees before me, her body upright, her pelvis thrust forward. She walked her knees apart and reached down, pulling her vulva and labia open and held herself still, staring down at her crotch. I leaned forward a bit and as gently as I could, slid the blade of the Buck up inside her. I watched her grimace and her mouth open as her belly muscles clenched - no matter how gentle I was, the wide blade sliced the roof of her vagina, no doubt slitting the puffy flesh of her g-spot. Blood oozed down the blade and over my fist. Rayne looked at me, pain obvious on her face, then she turned and looked at her own reflection in the wall mirror. "... okay ..." she said breathlessly. I pulled the knife toward me firmly but slowly, feeling the blade slice deep until it scraped against her pubic bone. She started to shake and quiver, her eyes flashing with distress and her lips wet with sudden drool. When I pulled the blade up and out of her and sliced through her clit, her belly clenched and she cried out, curling forward, still watching herself in the mirror. I have to admit, I admired her will to withstand what had to be excruciating pain - the agony on her face and the quivering muscles of her belly and thighs told the tale of the burning pain she was going through. As the tip of the knife slid up the cut and cleared her pubic bone, I pushed the knife deep into her belly - and as it penetrated her, she lowered herself until her bum rested on her heels and opened her thighs wide. She shuddered and grunted and lowered her gaze to look down at her belly as I started to slide the blade in and out of her belly, sawing upward. As I sawed in and out of her belly and the first loops of intestine protruded from her opening belly, Rayne raised her arms and gripped my shoulders with her hands to steady herself, her head hanging down, watching the progress of my knife. She grunted hard when I cut through her belly button and doing that released the narrowest part of her abdomen - it opened like a purse and a large knot of twisted intestines slid from within her to flop down between her shaking thighs. "... oh shit ... oh shit ..." she panted weakly, her entire body shaking badly now, her fingers gripping the shoulders of my shirt tight, "... look at that ... oh shit ... look at that ..." She was fascinated with her own gutting, watching the pink and grey coils of intestine slithering and squirming out of her belly and the blood flowing over her inner thighs. I kept sawing upward, through the thinner muscle of her upper belly, stopping short of cutting her stomach - somehow I sensed that Rayne wasn't a puke fan. I pulled the knife from her belly, dropping it in the body bag and reached up to steady her, my thumbs hooked in her slippery armpits, and my hands wrapped around the sides of her ribs. We knelt there together, facing each other - her gripping my shirt, me steadying her as her head hung down, her eyes riveted on her viscera still slumping from her belly to flop into the body bag. Rayne whimpered a few times and I found I had to hold her tighter as the moments went on to keep her upright - I knew she wouldn't last much longer. Soon her grip on my shirt loosened and her arms flopped down between her thighs, her hands laying limp in the mess of her entrails. After another moment she whined and her body went limp. When I let go of her, she flopped forward, her face hitting the floor between my knees. Sheila was another who didn't want any foreplay or sexual contact, although I'm almost positive the act of her gutting was indeed a very sexual experience for her. One thing for sure - it was intense. Sheila was a pale redhead with a pretty face but a body on the plump side who had asked me for a suspended gutting. She arrived at my house with bags of groceries - delicacies - and a bubbly demeanor. Sheila's cheerful attitude concerned me at first - it seemed as though she was oblivious of her impending death as she danced around my kitchen preparing her final meal and I began to wonder if she was suffering some sort of psychosis and not aware that death was going to be final. But as we sat and ate a large dinner made mostly of desserts, she brought up her request and talked about it cheerfully, going into intimate detail as to how it might feel and how long she might last once the gutting began. She asked me questions about other girls who I'd gutted and I answered honestly, not pulling any punches. See, I like to be sure that they're prepared and not doing this on a whim. Sheila disclosed that she had an eating disorder and that she'd been binging and purging most of her life starting in her early teens. She said that when she started, she thought she'd lose weight by purging, but soon discovered that losing weight that way was a fallacy. Binging and purging became such a habit though she did it almost every day. This was her last binge, she told me with a smile - and she made it a big one; by the time we had finished the huge meal she'd prepared, she was stuffed - her belly was stretching her knit top. Sheila wasn't shy about her body. She stripped down right there in the dining area, revealing her pale body - large breasts, belly bloated with food and milk, and long plump legs. She held my hand as we descended to the suicide room and laid down on the floor while I attached her ankle cuffs, then rolled on her side while I cuffed her wrists together. She took some deep breaths then announced she was ready, so I attached the chains to her ankle cuffs and hoisted her high. Her long red hair hung down to the floor, and her face flushed from hanging upside down. I dragged the large metal tub over and positioned it under her. "Is that the gut bucket?" she asked, looking down into its stained interior. "That's it." I said. I was still worried about how cheerful she was, so I asked; "This is your last chance to stop this, Sheila. Once we start, there's no turning back." "I know." she said matter-of-factly, "I'm good. You can start." Sheila didn't have much muscle tone in her abdomen, and I could see that with her suspended upside down, most of her intestines had settling at the top of her belly making an impressive bulge. I stepped forward and straddled the gut bucket, wrapping my left arm around her ample bum and hips and held her tight. I slipped my trusty 119 Buck from its sheath and pressed the tip against the hollow between her mound and belly button, the razor sharp edge pointed down. I heard her gasp and her body shuddered and shiver-bumps spread across her thighs and hips. "Okay." she whispered, "Do me." I leaned into it and pushed the blade deep into her lower belly - I could feel it slice through her fat and muscle then burst her bladder before slowing as I penetrated her uterus. "mnngh!" she grunted hard and her thighs squeezed tight together. I wiggled the blade inside her and they opened, her knees bending and parting wide then her legs fell back straight, her thigh muscles clenched rigid and trembling, making her ankle chains jingle above us. I began to saw downward toward the pale bulge of her belly. "... mmph! ... mmph! ... mmph!" Sheila grunted gutturally with each thrust of the blade as I worked my way down her belly toward her belly button. Her body was quivering, her fat jiggling and her breasts bouncing. As I got into a rhythm of sawing the long blade in and out of her abdomen, so did her body - Her belly began rolling and pushing out then curling over and over and her pelvis was humping like she was being fucked by my Buck. And I suppose it was; sawing a girl's gut is very much like fucking her with a knife. I truly hoped that the intensity of the experience was what Sheila wanted, because her actions were telling me it was very intense for her as I sawed my way from her mound to her mid-belly. The belly button is the centre point of a girl's abdomen and the terminus of the oblique muscles that cradle everything within it - See, the obliques are what give our bellies the tension to cradle all that weight of our internal organs and hold them in place. As I reached Sheila's belly button and cut through it, the tension in her belly was released like a snapped rubber band and her wound suddenly gaped open wide. Feeling this sudden release, Sheila shuddered and quivered and let out a long guttural moan. Looking inside her gaping wound, I could see her intestines squirming within her like a knot of slippery eels. As I cut through the softness above her belly button I heard what I expected to hear at some point ... "urglrph" a guttural gurgling groan followed by a gush of vomit as her stomach convulsed. I paused my blade ... "...don't stop!" she gasped wetly, then vomited again, copious amounts of liquid gurgling and rushing from her throat and open mouth to spatter and splash in the gut bucket. A lot of men would be repulsed by a woman vomiting, but I knew that for many, the clench and convulsion followed by the rush of fluid up the throat and violent expulsion was more intensely pleasurable than an orgasm. One girl explained by asking me how amazing an ejaculation felt during orgasm, then asked me to imagine how it would feel if it was my whole body doing the ejaculating. “That's what it's like.” she'd said with a smile, “Like your whole body is ejaculating in orgasm.” I kept sawing downward, opening her large belly as Sheila continued to vomit in gut-wrenching convulsions. Soon her intestines began to slide out of her opened belly to slither down her pale bloated abdomen, flopping and plopping into the gut bucket below. Blood flowed feely over her pale skin and breasts. I leaned to the side as I continued to open her and saw that her eyes were watering but still open as she stared at her vomit and entrails pooling and splashing in the bottom of the bucket only inches from her face. I sawed until I was close to her stomach, but I made sure not to slice into it - I was sure that Sheila was enjoying her final purge and would want to continue until the end. I pulled the knife from her and stepped back. Sheila continued to vomit and quiver in her restraints until her stomach was empty - wave after wave of convulsion and puking making her body shudder and shake. Even when her stomach was empty, she continued to dry heave, gasping for air, choking and coughing. At last she was finally able to get a decent breath. "...m-m-make it p-p-perfect ..." she gasped. So I stepped forward and slipped the tip of my knife inside her and pushed downward, penetrating deep into her bloated stomach sac. Her thighs clamped tight together again and I watched as her belly curled in one last prolonged heave, her eyes rolling up in her head and her entire body convulsing for a long time; Death throes I suppose - and I'm not sure if they can feel anything during them because they seem like a seizure. Then suddenly she went still and calm - her body sagging and limp and slowly swinging back and forth on her jingling chains. As I said - I'm pretty sure there was a strong sexual aspect to her gutting, because while I was sawing into her belly, her cunt gaped and burbled with girl cum - by the time she was done, her crotch and the crease of her ass was slimy with it. Good for you, Sheila - Good for you.