"There was a girl, Debbie, a student in university, who had t" By robblu (https://pastebin.com/u/robblu) URL: https://pastebin.com/aanC9Rdt Created on: Monday 5th of March 2018 03:17:15 PM CDT Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 03:15:50 AM UTC There was a girl, Debbie, a student in university, who had to die and choose to do it hanging herself naked on live web translation. Many viewers enjoyed her hanging and cummed on it. This story is about what have happened when Debbie was dead and some people disconnected. Dead people have friends to whom they were dear, you know. Many thanks to Jenna for proofreading Marie's story. (For those who want to know: Debbie was not suicidal. She had to die but could choose a manner of her death. She was too independent to choose someone as her executioner and be at his mercy, so she had chosen to kill herself.) I am on my way to Debbie's room. I watched the video - my dear friend Debbie is dead now. She asked me to help other girls spread around what remains of her. She knew I'd be too timid to gut her body, but I still wanted to be of help. She asked me to take the camera and show everyone she wasn't just hanging limp in a noose, she was a dead corpse - to show it and then to close her blog forever. Oh Debbie, my dear, my friend, my courage - the one who always pushed me to be braver. You have shown me just how brave you are hanging yourself and never making an attempt to escape - and now there is no one to push me, now I have to push myself. Debbie, I promise you - I'll be brave! I owe you that, my love. I enter Debbie's room; Tina and Martha are already there. They have already sliced off Debbie's breasts and are busy gutting her body. I have seen and even participated in the gutting and butchering of a human before, in school - but it was some unknown man, not my very dear friend, that we were butchering. I pass near, trying not to weep, trying not to flinch as I see the girls pulling her guts out. I am not that stupid to not know my Debbie had some guts in her! I will be brave! I promised Debbie! I take the camera and return to her body. I see everything I am showing others. Her dead face looks through me with unmoving, unblinking, unfocused eyes. Her lips are pale, slightly parted and relaxed: her cares, her sorrows, her happiness - it's all over! I won't weep! Martha lays Debbie's heart near her liver and breasts (one of them is mine). I show it all: the small breasts she teased me with; the heart I heard beating in her chest, the heart that was always warm and had a place for me. It is still now, it could only be eaten. Stupid tears, hold back! I take the camera near the basin - a pile of guts, chopped foot sticking out of it ... oh, her pussy, pussy she made me finger. Not for herself, she was not interested in women at all - she did it for me, because she noticed I was interested in it and too shy to do it on my own. It is just waste now; poor Debbie doesn't need it anymore and will get no pleasure from touching it. Tina chops off a hand and drop it in the basing, the hand slowly sink in the guts. Oh, Debbie... Stop it, you stupid girl! You should not drop out crying with the camera on! Do what Debbie asked you to do! Martha has chopped off Debbie's calf, skinned her thigh and is now cutting it off. Fat and meat - good meat: my friend is just meat to eat now. Stop! Debbie told you she wants your grief not! Debbie told you she wants you to be happy! Do not betray your friend! Do as she wanted you to do! Her thigh is cut off; it lies now with other meat pieces. Tina has me capture how she skins Debbie's buttock. She smiles at me, knowing the buttock will be mine to eat. I promised Debbie I would enjoy eating it. I make an effort to return Tina's smile and go to the PC. I need to do one more thing for Debbie. Camera is capturing the computer screen. I check an option to close her blog due to blogger's termination. It will work for some time for her friends to read and comment only, then will be archived and deleted. The mouse hovers over "Ok" button. It is my way of killing Debbie; her blog meant so much to her. Do it! She hanged herself, surely you can click a button on the screen! Be worthy of your brave friend! A click. Message has gone to staff, there's no turning back. Forgive me, Debbie! I stop the recording and start a computer cleaning program. A new student, one who will move into this room, doesn't need Debbie's private files. I watch the girls butchering Debbie's body. Debbie wants me to be strong and brave! I better start to do it right now! I gather my resolve, take a knife and ask Tina to let me skin or cut some part of Debbie. Tina smiles and tells me to cut off and skin her right arm; the hand is already chopped off. The arm that hugged me so passionately only a few days ago. You are thinking wrong, stop it! Debbie, thank you for your embraces - and thank you for letting me to cut and skin your arm! It'll make me stronger! Debbie wants it! She won't feel any pain. I cut her flesh, find a joint and, in several cutting motions, carefully detach the arm. I skin it; it's a gift from my dear Debbie. The meat. Debbie is not meat, she just left us her meat leaving us. Who am I sorry for? My friend, who had to die so young yet was brave and strong? Or myself, who was left without her support? Martha congratulates me and asks me to hold Debbie's head while they remove it from her neck, then cut out her tongue and scalp her hair. I straighten myself and take a firm hold of the hair I once caressed so tenderly. Debbie would want me to keep her head from falling to the floor, not to flinch from her dead gaze. Her head comes loose. I sigh, dissect her neck and chin, get her tongue out and cut it off. The tongue that so playfully licked my pussy to tease me and allow me feel better and braver. Oh! Stop it! Debbie left it to us. I should help her to spread around all she left. I helped her give away all the things she owned in her last days, it's just like that. I manage to smile and aloud thank Debbie for licking me and leaving us her body, and her tongue in particular. Tina smiles and tells me I can have the tongue (Debbie left it to her) if it means so much to me. She tells that I am doing well, that I deserve it; it seems Debbie has warned the girls how hard this might be for me. I thank her and give her my share of Debbie's skin in return - Tina likes well-treated soft skin, and I don't want to keep many parts of Debbie around. I promised her I'd live better, not keep body parts. In the meantime I skin Debbie's scalp and brow. I pull the skin from her brow over her face - not to hide it from myself, just for Martha to saw her skull open. Debbie doesn't need her face any more - neither to look at us nor to express her feelings. I hold her head. Martha gets skull open and Tina extracts her brain. The place of Debbie's thoughts and memories, her care and love for me - now it's just a blob of gray and white matter for us to eat. Tina slices the brain in three parts, just as she did with the heart and liver. One part is mine. The girls take basing to the trash bin while I am carefully sorting out meat, skin pieces and organs according to Debbie's final instructions. We clean room, wash ourselves and we're done. I have one last specific promise to keep: to spend several nights with a kind, middle-aged, solitary professor she has chosen to console me. I am so shy and scared I've never been with a man before. Peter has told me he will not take me if I'm against it; he'll just embrace and warm me up. Debbie told me I would feel bad being alone without her. But Peter is a man and I'm scared to be at his mercy. It is so tempting to give in to fear, to hide, to just return to my room. No one is watching me, Debbie can't check on me being dead. That's exactly why you must do it! She is dead and you promised! I gather my strength and ask myself "What Debbie has really wanted me to do?" Debbie told me: Marie, promise me to learn to live well without me to push you; Marie, you need to do it to not join me too soon - I do not want it; Marie, my dear - live a long and happy life and join me when your time comes - but not sooner. I promised. I will learn, Debbie. To live well, to live a long and happy life, I need to be with people. I need to be useful to someone - some man probably; it's easier for a woman to be useful to a man. Oh, Debbie. You're not around to push me if I waver. I have to do it myself. I will. I will do it! Peter is kind and calm. If anyone can teach me how to live with a man and be useful to him without me bolting in fear - it's Peter. I'll tell him you wanted him to do it. He won't deny you that! Peter has been kind and helpful during a dinner. We are in his bedroom. He has said we should lie in bed and touch one another, but I shouldn't fear him. He has said that he will just warm me and gently caress me, just like my parents caressed me when I was young. I ask Debbie and gather my resolve. I look at Peter trying to be brave in midst of my fear and despair and ask him to make me a woman, to teach me all about how a woman should help a man - with her hands keeping a house, with her heart loving him and ... with her pussy, to give him pleasure in bed. Teach me, Peter! I tell him I'll leave him once he teaches me to find a boy my own age to love, but Debbie and I want him to teach me first, and that I'll give him her breast and my love (during my learning) in return. Peter smiles and asks, whether I want it to happen gradually, or right now, while I have the resolve. I know how easy it is to back away, given time; I know there is no Debbie to stop me if I start to back away. I look Peter right in the eyes and say "Do it right now. What should I do?" But he only strokes my face tenderly, telling what a hard day I've had, and gently starts to unbutton my dress. Something in me gives in from his tenderness, and my tears, that I held back for so long, start pouring from my eyes. Debbie, Debbie... My loyal friend, my dear love, my stalwart support - you're gone, you're gone forever and I'm left to fight my weakness alone without you. You'll never laugh, you'll never embrace me warmly - oh, you won't even strictly reprimand me for my weakness. I would agree even to be only reprimanded by you, just for you to live! If ONLY I could let you live! But I lost you and you lost your very life, and there is no helping it - not at all. Yet Peter's care and caresses made a strange change in me. Tears, that would normally overcome me and tear my heart with grief are just flowing out and I feel relief, not grief - and a hard dark hand clutching my heart slowly release it's grip. I forget my fears of being at mercy of a man; I hug Peter, crying, and press my naked chest to his. We lie in a tight embrace and I feel something growing between his legs. I know in my body what I need to do. I know in my heart that, for me, it is something serious, not just getting laid and fucked like for many girls. It is sort of a death too, the death of an unconcerned, happy girl who truly cared for no one but herself. The death needed for a responsible and caring woman to come into world and grow up. Debbie died a big death being brave; I can't be coward over this little one. I unzip Peter's pants and say "Do it. Take me now. Be my first man, be my first love. Debbie cared for me but she is no more. Care for me instead!" Peter smiles, nods, and reaches for me, and I willingly and completely surrender myself to him. Every little bit of me. Bye, happy, unconcerned girl Marie. When it all ended, I was lying on the bed, almost stunned. My mind was confused. It wasn't ready to agree and accept full measure of what had just happened - it needed to spend quite a time with Peter to understand simple fact my heart knew from that very first night. I didn't need to look for a boy my age. I didn't want to look for someone else. Who needs someone else when you have a man as good as Peter? Professors can be useful even when they're old. They have a long lifespan - so our age difference wouldn't matter really; we'll probably be terminated around the same time, with me being much younger. My heart knew all that, but it was wise; it didn't force that knowledge on my mind. It let my mind accept it over time while Peter taught me how to be dear and useful to a man. To him. But my heart knew it from the very beginning, when, in tears, I moved to embrace him. And when the next morning I brought him a pate that I made from Debbie's liver, he smiled happily and slightly yielding, and told in a glad voice what a good cook, and what a brave woman, I was - my heart knew his heart knew it too. He understood, and was patient with me. And so he got my heart, my mind, my body - all of me, eventually. I have lived a long and happy life with Peter - just as I promised Debbie I would. The time for Peter and me to join Debbie comes at last, and my heart tells me I'll make true on the last part of my promise too. We'll join Debbie together, without grief or hesitation, a brave and content pair, when our time comes. But not sooner! P.S. Marie is a shy and reserved woman. She asked me to write and spread her story to show us her way of fighting grief - in case it can help someone. She considers her death intimate (it is sexual) - just for her and Peter, she only let me witness it as her writer. But she told she let me describe her idea how they will die in general if several people write nice things about her - or, better, to her. Note that writing nice things about me (the writer) not equals writing a nice things about Marie (the character).