Posted by jamie on May 05, 2002 at 22:28:14:
The Diary Pt 7
My client comes over to stand in front of me. The step on which I kneel places me so that I am just higher than he is, so that he can see my lips and my eyes as they show my terror and my suffering. And so he can see my neck and his hands as they do awful things to me, as his thumbs press into my throat.
Those hands come for me, touch my breasts, tease them, make my nipples hard and I cannot stop them doing it. He is aroused, I have let my eyes drop down there. I look up. He is smiling at me, telling me I am very lovely, very sweet and special, how he is going to enjoy me so much.
The hands leave my shoulders, I feel them touch my neck, low down then they slide up along it, frictionless against my moistened skin. I feel goose bumps form on my neck at the gentle, tickling touch.
He turns his hands over and smooths them away with the back of his fingers. Then they return to me, crooked, the fingers encircling my neck, the tips coming to rest at the back, moving a little to find the groove better to hold my neck as he wants it.
The thumbs are last. The thumbs which will kill me.
It is a nightmare, it must be to be so terrible. The thumbs come from beside my neck, come around towards my throat. Slowly. Like the fingers, gently. But different for the thumbs are coming to strangle me. To kill me.
They brush the skin so softly as the creep towards their home, over the hollows down each side of my windpipe, pause there. He is doing what we were told some clients do before killing their girls. He is feeling my pulse, my life. I know it is my life that thrills him as much as the feel of my neck in his hands. He is aroused at the thought of killing me.
Oh, God please, I don't want to die.
The thumbs are there, at the centre of my throat. They do not stay there, however, but with both hands slide up my neck to press under my chin, fingers under the back of my head using both together to lift and tilt back and then straiten my head to the exact position he wants it. To make my neck erect so he can feel it extended and slender in his hands, the way the instructors during training told us men like to position a girl's head so they can caress and love the feel her neck in their hands before they strangle her.
So he can see his thumbs as they press into my throat.
The thumbs shift a little, then move up and down as if seeking some special spot. Then I know that they are. I remember now. We were told it takes quite a time to strangle a girl and it is not easy to keep pressing her throat hard for long, so experienced clients find the softest spot on their girl's throat to strangle her with.
I wish I did not keep remembering these things.
The thumbs stop.
Dear God!
PART 6
'What was your name again, girl?' I hear the words, but they mean nothing. My mind is frozen.
'Your name, girl - I asked you your name.'
I realise my client is speaking to me. He seems to have forgotten my name. I try to tell him, but nothing comes out.
Richard's voice comes from behind me, telling me to try to be calm, telling me to say my name.
'Liena,' I say, or hear myself saying. 'Liena Gibbons'.
I hear my name, my voice saying my name and it fills me with sorrow again, reminds me again that I am a real girl, young, a human being. I am going to die.
'Well, Liena Gibbons - he is speaking to me again - 'I want you to know that you are the loveliest girl I have yet had and I want my memory of you to be special. I always have the best memories of my girls when they do their very best to remain in the position I place them in for their processing. You are now perfect. You are nice and erect for me, head nicely up so I can see your beautiful face and watch your eyes, but without tension in your neck. I don't like it for a girl to arch her head back during her strangulation. Some girls do it to try to get some air, but it spoils the feel of a strangling girl's throat under the thumbs, so please try not to.
'I don't mind so much if you move your head from side to side - the feel of a long slender neck doing that is nice, but try to keep the movements small if you can.
'And please try not to fight me, bear with the pain for as long as you can. In fact I would like you to remain still until you are actually suffering from strangulation. It really spoils it for me when a girl struggles at the pain caused only by the bruising of her throat. Girls should be able to accept that for their clients, don't you think Richard?'
'Yes' - it is Richard's voice - 'I am sure Liena will do her very best for you'.
I hoped Richard's presence would help me, but it is not. He seems only interested in making sure I am good for me client. I must suffer and die all alone.
'I'm sure she will, old boy.' It is my client speaking again.
'Now Liena I will do this to you in a way I hope will help you be still for me right through until you actually start to suffer advanced asphyxiation. You will feel my thumbs moving about a little in your throat as I begin to strangle you. This is not done to deliberately hurt you, although I suppose it will have to a little, but it will allow my thumbs to feel their way deep into the softest area of your throat with the minimum of bruising.'
He asks me if I understood and I find myself nodding. He asks if I will try to do as he wants and I am nodding. He tells me that I should have answered out loud as he does not want my head to move up or down. He says he also likes the feel of a girl's voice under his thumbs. He adjusts the position of my head again, getting my throat straight and head erect, then slides them back to their place on my neck.
Why am I nodding anyway? Do I want to be good for him? Do I really want to do this last thing in my life to please the person who is going to kill me?
I have to stop thinking. All I know is I don't want to die.
He is looking from my throat and his hands up to my eyes, one then the other, as I feel the thumbs come to life at my throat, moving but gently, slowly, only the thumbs pressing and the finger tips digging into my nape, the hands soft and warm about my neck. I know from the feel, from our lectures about how most clients like to strangle their girls, that he wants to kill me by taking my air only. He does not want to let me go quickly by stopping blood to my brain.
His thumbs are pressing deeper now - they are still moving in my neck, seeking the soft place he wants, pressing into my throat. He is smiling at me. It hurts now.
The thumbs stop moving, but press further into my throat. I can hear my breath as it gets past where it hurts under his thumbs, harder now until something moves in my neck and his thumbs stop me being unable to breath at all.
I move, trying to pull away from the hands about my neck, to get away from the terrible thumbs bruising my throat.
He still smiles at me and he is speaking as he smiles - 'Easy now,' his voice says, 'easy Liena, you are doing fine, quite nice in fact. But I want you to remain still for me please. I know it hurts, girl, but be good for just a little while longer, if you can,'
I stop moving, stop my struggling. I look at him, at his smile. I do not know why I am doing as he asks of me, giving him pleasure as he hurts me, as he begins to slowly strangle me.
He moves the thumbs again, slowly up and down. I feel them go further into my neck, a little part in there move aside with a tiny click.
It hurts so bad now - deep inside my throat.
Suddenly I need air, I have to breath.
I cannot - oh God I can't get any air.
I am being strangled.
The pain spreads now, both ways outwards from my neck, my lips feel as if they are swelling, my eyes cannot see properly. I know he is still smiling and the pain in my chest is swelling, growing, and I know I am starting to die, I feel hot, so terribly hot.
Please someone help me! I don't want to die!
It goes on and on - pain, endless roaring pain and panic and terror and I feel my body jerking, my body contracting and releasing and I remember dimly something the lecturers said about how girls chosen to be strangled would know there was only about a minute to go when they went into convulsions and that they should welcome the feeling for their suffering was nearly over, but the thought makes me panic all the more, want to get away from the pain and terror and to live and I am pulling at my bound hands and my wrists hurt where the cord ties them behind my back, but he holds me by my neck so easily now and I cannot seem to make myself struggle any more and I can see him still smiling at me, looking into my eyes as he comes to me, his face blurred, and I feel him kiss my parted lips very gently and his tongue, I feel his tongue, but I cannot close my lips and my chest is burning.
That other pain is worse now, terrible, but where is it? My wrists, yes my wrists. They burn as I am trying to get my hands free to stop him strangling me. The bonds get tighter, hurting me more and more, but I cannot stop trying to free my hands. It is terrifying knowing I am so helpless and dying.
I hear him again, faintly above the sound in my ears, he must be speaking to Richard, 'God, man, she is perfect - just look at her long slim body as she goes through her convulsions, the way her shoulders heave as she tries to get her hands free.' He has pushed me away, no, stepped back to se my body, his arms straight out. His hands shift on my neck as he moves, the thumbs move too and I am able to get some air, a tiny bit of air and the terrible hurt in my chest is lighter and that makes me feel his thumbs much worse in my throat, much more pain as he presses into my neck again to strangle me completely. The pain in my chest returns worse than ever.
'And her face,' his voice is faint, excited, 'just look at her dying face, the way the colour is sweeping over her lips and God her eyes, you can see it in her eyes, her pain and the approaching death, see in her lovely young eyes that she knows it is coming to her, that she is dying. She is truly the perfect girl for this, no doubt about it, Richard. She is dying perfectly, just perfectly.'
Oh God, please stop the pain. I do not want to die - it is not fair.
And now I feel something else, confusing me for a moment until I know it is Richard taking hold of my arms from behind, to hold me up so my client can finish the awful thing he is doing to me after I can no longer kneel up for him.
'Just a little longer, Liena,' I hear a very distant voice say - it is Richard, - 'just try to bear it a little longer and it will be all over, sweetheart.'
He holds me upright by my arms, holds me up and steady so my client can enjoy me to the end.
I know I am dying now, it is coming. I feel so hot now, hot from the strangulation, from my fear. I want to live so very much.
The pain in my throat is dull now, deep inside. I cannot feel my hands anymore. The agony is now all in my chest, a deep, terrible wrenching ache. I try to look at my client, let him see my suffering, how much he is hurting me, that he is killing me, see he must stop it. I cannot focus my eyes, there must be something grey hanging over them. Please let me have just a little air, one more little breath, I won't ask for any more after that. His thumbs still press into my throat. No air.
I focus just long enough to see that my client is looking into my eyes. He is smiling.
I am shaking, I cannot control the awful contractions in my body, my head is going from side to side and I think I hear my client say something about the feel of my neck in his hands, about how it feels with the moisturiser on it, how sensual it feels, and Richard still holding me up and suddenly I am cold and, and I can hardly see my client at all and there is a great far away hollow noise and I am so very frightened. I am dying .. so very sad...........it is so unfair......dying.......alone... ...'
Auto-Diary input at 1027 hrs
Conscious data from girl diarist Liena Jane Gibbons aged eighteen years and twenty seven days ceased flowing at 1027 hrs this day. Her heart stopped beating at 1029-30hrs and brain activity was terminated at 1030-01hrs.. All bodily movement and nervous transmissions ceased at 1038hrs precisely.
Girl diarist Liena Jane Gibbons can be now certified as legally dead for the purposes of the "Control of the Female Population Act of 2402" her life being beyond practicable recovery.
Diary ceased recording at 1042-01 hrs and is in standby mode and available for download."
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Post Script by Richard.
This girl was quite marvellous in the way she went to her death. We had the same client back many times, but he never strangled another girl, but rather chose different approved methods to process his subsequent selections, never, he said, wanting to spoil the memory that he was able to take from Liena.
Jamiesfile2002@yahoo.com.au