Penny
Penny sent me her pic along with a stated desire to be hogtied, trussed and hung belly down and gutted. But before our "date", I received an email that sent chills up my spine - it was from Penny's little sister, Tasha. In her email, Tasha said she knew what Penny was going to do .. or rather, what Penny wanted me to do to her. Tasha went on to tell me that it was because their Dad used to make them watch him dress the hogs on their farm - something both girls became obsessed with. Tasha described how Daddy would truss the hogs and gut them while they were still alive - he especially enjoyed having the girls hold the little piglets stretched out while he opened their pink bellies, then made the girls explore their open gut as the piglets squirmed and panted.
Tasha said she would be coming with Penny and wanted her big sister to help me do her first. Despite the last minute change in plan, I ended up helping both girls die in the same afternoon and the experience was intense for all of us.
Tasha
Tasha is straining, her naked body squirming and tensing as Penny and I work together to hold her firmly in the gutting position. Tasha's ankles are tied tight to the corner of the gutting table and her arms are tied tight behind her back - her wrists and elbows wrapped in cord so they are pulled tight together. I have one knee pressed into Tasha's lower back, and Penny has an arm across Tasha's almost flat chest with her hand cupping the underside of the girl's jaw - the other arm is under Tasha's head, her palm on the girl's forehead. Penny is pulling hard, forcing Tasha's head back, stretching out her throat and body. Tasha is grunting and gritting her teeth and Penny is sweating as she holds her sister in this unnatural position. The whole scene is frantic and desperate.
"Push harder with your knee!" Penny gasps at me. "No! Harder! Really hard!"
I slide my knee further forward, putting my weight into it and arching Tasha's small body. Her plump little belly is now bowed outward, stretched long and tight and in perfect position.
"Penneeee!" Tasha cries out through clenched teeth - teeth clenched so tight I can hear them grinding.
"It's okay, Tasha." Penny gasps breathlessly in Tasha's ear, "Remember the pigs, honey. All stretched out and ready. Remember how they squirmed and cried."
"Am ... I ready?" Tasha grunts, suffering from the pressure on her body, obviously feeling the painful stretching of her belly - the tightness of her ropes, my knee hard in her back.
"Yes, baby." Penny gasps, "All stretched out and pink just like the pigs."
Penny looks up at me, her flushed face showing fear and excitement. She swallows and nods - "Do it! Fuckin' do it!".
I grip my knife - for Tasha I've chosen a gut hook. As the girl strains and breathes with difficulty, I position the tip of the knife against her lower belly and pull it into her, increasing pressure steadily. Tasha groans long and low and presses her belly outward and I am in awe at this behaviour in girls who opt for midline gutting, craving it so much they welcome the penetration of the blade into their bodies by pushing their tender bellies outward.
The skin and muscles resist the initial plunge of the knife. Girls who want to be stabbed deep in one sudden thrust are the exception in my line of work. For Tasha and most others, they want me to slowly increase the pressure, ease the blade into them so they can savour it ... and as I do that with Tasha's belly, I watch the dimple around the knife deepen and get deeper and deeper.
Tasha cries out as she feels the pressure building in the flesh over her bladder.
"... have to pee!" Tasha cries out through clenched teeth.
"It's okay," Penny whispers hoarsely in her ear as she holds her sister tight in her grip - keeping her stretched out, "Remember the pigs peed and pooped and sometimes threw up? You can do all of those things if you have to. It's okay."
And as I increase the pressure, Tasha lets her bladder flow - clear pee squirting and streaming from the tight hairless Y of her crotch. More pressure and suddenly I feel the skin pop and Tasha's little body jerks. I pull harder and feel the blade separate the muscle beneath, lubricated by her thin layer of belly fat.
"NNNNNGGGHHHH!" Tasha groans loudly and twists violently in our grip as I pull the blade deep into her lower abdomen then work the angle of the knife back and forth until the hook slips inside - nestled in her bowels. I readjust my grip so I can pull it up her long belly.
"Okay, baby. Here it comes!" Penny's voice is excited now, and glancing at her I see she is staring wide-eyed at her little sister's belly, breathing through her mouth and nose. I can feel her warm excited breath on my arm.
I pull upward and feel the resistance of the muscles pulling Tasha's crotch tight. I have to give it a tug before the cut starts. Tasha is grunting, straining more, her body automatically fighting to free itself.
Despite the thinness of her abdominal muscles, I find I have to tug the blade up her abdomen - each tug jerking her belly and cutting upward an inch or so. Tasha grunts with each violent tug and in between she breathes wetly, spittle spraying through her clenched teeth. Her face is a flushed grimace - her eyes squeezed shut, her jaw muscles clenched tight.
Tugging ... tugging ... tugging ... I work the blade up her stretched belly as fast as I can. When I split her belly button - that's always the climax of the intensity of a midline gutting - Tasha jerks violently and I hear violent gurgling in her belly.
"Blurph!" Tasha suddenly vomits hard, spraying the creamy pinkness of the strawberry milkshake she had drunk as a last meal to on the way here through her clenched teeth. She forces her jaws open and heaves again, the milkshake flowing and gurgling to form a puddle in front of her face.
Knowing the muscles above the belly button are thinner and softer, I pull upward with steady pressure and slit the rest of Tasha's belly open in one smooth cut as her body jerks and shakes.
As I pull the knife from her abdomen, Penny lets go of Tasha's jaw and reaches down, laying her hand over her sister's torso, holding her belly closed as I pull my knee away. Tasha's body relaxes somewhat but she is still trembling.
"It's done, Tasha." Penny says excitedly, supporting Tasha's head with her other hand, "Look-look-look!"
Tasha lowers her head, tucking her chin and watches as Penny lifts her hand away and her belly opens like a purse and the coils of her intestines ooze and slither out of her onto the gutting table. Tasha shudders and pushes her belly outward and a large clot of intestines flop out of her onto the table. Her eyes roll up in her head and her small body quivers as she is overwhelmed by the sensations. She turns her head and lets her face come to rest in the puddle of puked milkshake as she quivers in silence.
"Just like the little pigs." Penny whispers as she kisses Tasha's cheek and forehead.
"... oh Penny ... oh Penny ..." Tasha murmurs softly at last, and is suddenly calm, appearing to be entering a blissful state. Penny, tenderly slides her hand into the knot of intestines still half inside Tasha's belly, and the girl gasps and whimpers as Penny strokes them.
"... feels so ... strange ..." Tasha moans, staring through half-lidded eyes at the wall in front of her.
"It's what the pigs felt when we played inside them." Penny whispers, leaning over her sister and kissing Tasha's pukey mouth, "Does it feel good?"
"... uh-huh ... so good ... so good ..."
I see that Tasha is growing alarmingly pale, her breathing growing shallow and slow, her lips turning a pale blue. Still, she summons the energy to move her arms. One goes around her sister's neck, drawing their lips tighter together as they made out. The other goes to the hole in her belly, and she explores deep inside herself. She squeezes her stomach, jerks in shock, then squeezes it harder. It sends her into puking spasms, but she manages to hold on for nearly a minute, kissing and orgasming and dying all at once. Finally, her strength leaves her, and she lies spent and sated, wearing nothing but a delirious smile. Penny continues to stroke the lengths of Tasha's intestines, triggering little quivers in Tasha as she kisses her face and lips, whispering comforting words to her dying sister as she holds her head with one hand. Out of respect for the tender scene, I step away into the next room and prepare Penny's ropes and hooks.
After about 20 minutes I look up and see Penny standing in the doorway leaning against the frame, her legs trembling. Her face is smeared with the pink puke from Tasha's mouth and lips, her left hand still wet from playing inside her sister's belly. Her hair is stuck to her sweaty flushed face, and I see that her erect nipples are tenting her t-shirt over the swells of her young breasts.
"Now it's my turn." Penny says, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement. "I want it brutal."
Penny
Penny is frantic, trussed tightly in her ropes, hanging from the ceiling beams; her arms tied behind her so her elbows and wrists are bound together; her legs folded and tied tight so her thighs are open. Her small breasts are wrapped tightly by cords and are swollen and turning purple - her nipples are puckered and hard. Her back is arched painfully and her belly is bowed and hanging down and stretched tight.
Penny's laboured gasping and her straining grunts echo in the cellar - she is in obvious distress from being hogtied. Her body is wet with sweat, her open lips shiny with drool.
"... fffffffuckkkk ..." Penny cries out gutturally, spittle spraying from her lips.
I reach between her open thighs and slide two fingers into her slippery wet cunt - her clear mucus oozing around my fingers as I dig deep and massage her g-spot.
"Feeling trussed like a pig?" I ask, fingering her, rewarded by the small pelvic humping movements that the ropes allow her.
"... grlk ... fuck yes ..." Penny strains through clenched teeth.
"Did you ever finger fuck the female pigs?" I ask, working her cunt, hearing the obscene squishing.
"... daddy ... made us ... " Penny grunts, squeezing her eyes shut, blinking the burning sweat away, "... pigs cum like girls do ..."
I stop fingering her and squat down close to her, gazing up at her flushed sweaty face - she continues to strain in her ropes.
"You're not smiling anymore, Penny."
"... fuckin' hurrrrrrts ..." Penny gasps, grinding her teeth - her jaw muscles tight.
Reaching up, I stroke the flat of my hand across her smooth sweat-slick belly, from her sternum to her bony mound and back again. I can feel the muscles quivering beneath the skin and fat.
"This is what the pigs felt. What Tasha felt." I tease her with the information as I stroke her belly, "You helped gut your own sister, Penny."
"... she wanted it ..." Penny groans, her face starting to swell from the straining, "... we both wanted it ... I want it ..."
I rise and drag the metal gut bucket across the floor and position it under her. Penny opens her eyes and lowers her head - the cords around her throat choking her as she does.
"... fuck ..." her body shudders as she sees the bucket.
"That's right." I say calmly, "It's about to happen and there's nothing you can do to stop it."
Penny makes a hopeless sound deep in her throat and lifts her head back up, "... ohh gawwd ..." she cries out, her face contorted between grimace and gasp..
I reach into an ice bucket and pick up the knife that Penny brought from home - the gutting knife her dad used on all those piglets. It is a large and brutal thing, with a sharp tip designed to penetrate abdominal muscles and a honed curved hook to tug through belly muscles.
I've kept it in ice so Penny would feel its coldness inside her belly.
I position the tip of the knife in the soft spot just above her mound with just enough pressure so she knows it's there.
"Did your daddy give the pigs any warning?"
Penny appears confused by the question.
"... no .. wait ... wha ... unnnggghhhhhhhhh!" Penny's eyes squeeze shut and her lips pull tight across her clenched teeth - her hands clench into fists, her knuckles turning white ... she's reacting to me pulling up hard on the blade without warning, penetrating through skin, fat and muscle with one smooth push - curling the blade inside her so it nestles in her bowels.
Penny reacts violently to the deep penetration; her body jerking and convulsing, her thighs flapping open and closed, her face deepening in colour, and the cords in her neck standing out like tightened ropes. Her lips are pulled back to expose her teeth as she strains, feeling the cold steel in her belly.
"No rest, Penny." I say in a matter-of-fact voice and start tugging the blade upward, jerking it so it cuts its slow ragged path up the midline of her abdomen.
By the time I reach her belly button, the cut has begun to open and a loop of pink intestine protrudes. Penny's mouth opens and she pants wildly. I look at her face and see that she is wide-eyed - her expression one of shock and amazement. She's feeling it - she's feeling every grim intense sensation of her belly being opened.
She lowers her head, the cords tightening around her throat as she watches me tugging on the knife hooked inside her, pulling and ripping at her belly button. The loop of intestine slides further out of her, dangling like an obscene pink rope and it is soon joined by a second loop ... then a third.
I hear the tell-tale gurgling deep in her belly as reverse-peristalsis violently starts pumping fluids out of her bowels and back into her stomach - I can see it beginning to bloat just below her sternum.
Penny's face is flushed a deep red, and I can see veins throbbing in her forehead and temples She looks like she is tasting something sour, and foam is building at the corners of her pursed lips.
I tug hard and break through her belly button and the muscle tension in her lower abdomen is released. A large knot of intestine slithers from the opening and slowly untangles and stretches out to slide down into the gut bucket. Penny's body shudders as her bowels touch the cold steel of the bucket.
Suddenly Penny's upper belly spasms violently and her face contorts, drool flowing freely from her curled lips. She lifts her head with a jerk and projectile vomits across the floor - a long spew that at first is the off-white cream foam from the milkshake she had on her way here, then a rush of light brown fluid that smells like sweet shit.
"... fu ..." Penny grunts, but a second spasm takes her immediately and she vomits violently again - more light brown fluid that sprays and spatters onto the flagstones. Her stomach now empty, Penny's belly continues to spasm and she dry-heaves continuously.
I know I need to finish so she doesn't pass-out prematurely from lack of oxygen, so I pull hard on the knife and open the top half of her belly in one rapid stroke. Her body shudders and spasms, bouncing in her ropes as the majority of her intestines slide out of her and hang like living ropes from her opened belly - they are squirming and undulating like living things. Her stomach sac hangs down, convulsing and throbbing as it continues to spasm.
Standing, I toss the knife aside and reach one hand between her trembling thighs, sliding two fingers into the hollow of her gaped cunt. It is absolutely slimy inside as I start finger-fucking her.
With my other hand I reach up and cradle her jaw and throat, feeling it still spasming. I massage her throat, calming her, and soon I hear the ragged gasp as she draws her first breath in some minutes.
"... fuck ..." Penny gasps breathlessly and pants weakly. Her body is calming, loosening in her ropes. I add a third finger and Penny whimpers.
"How does it feel, Penny?" I ask - my morbid curiosity about why some girls crave this, always on my mind.
"... intense ... and ... amazing ..." Penny whimpers, her eyes closing, her face calming, "... so sleepy ..."
I keep finger-fucking her until I feel her body quiver and she moans long and low - and that moan sends chills up my spine; it is a mixture of sexual bliss and the last sounds of hopelessness and despair.
"... oh my goodness ..." she whimpers so softly I barely hear her, and her head is suddenly heavy in my hand and I realize Penny's ordeal is over.
As I cut her body down and clean up, I smile at the thought that if assisted intense suicide was an occupation, I'd be growing rich.