Don't Lose your Head (M/f; tickling;decapitation)


 





Don't Lose Your Head

    It was unbelievable.  Inconceivable!  Mary Never hitchhiked, Never!  Never
Ever!  But the one time ONE TIME she does, she gets a lift from the Guillotine
rapist!
   Everyone had read the news reports.  Bodies and neatly severed heads; never
found together.  And the bodies always much more badly decomposed than the
matching head, as if the head had somehow lived longer.  But the cause of death
was clear:  Death by Guillotine!  Plenty of DNA to go on.  Always traces of
semen in the mouth and neck, but HUGE quantities in the abdominal cavities of
the victims.  And always some in the rectum as well.  And one body had been
found with the nipples cut off!  Can you imagine!
   Another thing that puzzled the Guillotine rapist task-force was the odd
intervals at which these abductions/murders took place.  Most serial killers
followed a definite pattern of some sort, but the FBI computers could detect no
pattern what-so-ever.  Of course, there was one traditional serial killer trait
that he was known for: All of his victims bore a striking resemblance to one
another, and, as Mary's friends constantly reminded her, they all resembled
MARY!
   As the smelling salts awakened her, she sensed that her head was dangling
over the edge of a bench.  Using the muscles in her neck, she raised her head
upward until it was parallel to the rest of her body.  Now she was staring
upward at two vertical wooden rails, a silver blade glistening between them.
The man untied the rope that held the blade, slowly lowering it until it almost
touched her neck, then raised it again.  Her sleepy eyes followed the path of
the blade until it reached the top of its path, all the way to the ceiling of
the small room. A Guillotine, she realized, simultaneously realizing that she
was looking at it from the worst possible angle.  She tried to sit up, but only
her head tilted further forward.  Looking down at her body, she noticed for the
first time that she was completely nude.  Coils of white clothesline ran around
her body, from the top of her clean-shaven mons Venerus to the base of her
store bought breasts.  Then the end of the thin rope doubled back to meet the
beginning where it was tied in a bow (a BOW!) just over her belly button.  Her
arms vanished under the bench to which she was so neatly tied.  As she tried to
raise them to untie the bow, she discovered they were handcuffed underneath the
bench.
   She surveyed the room.  Cinder-block construction, probably sub-terrainian.
About the size of a jail cell.  No windows, and just one door.  A steel door
padlocked with a combination lock.  Her clothing, shoes, jewelry, and purse
were in a plastic bag sitting on the rooms' only chair.  No electrical switches
or outlets, the room was lit by the bright glow of a Coleman lantern.
   She then looked over at her captor, still holding the rope which held the
blade, which threatened her neck.  He knelt beside her, using his free hand to
cradle her unsupported head.  In spite of the surrealness of her situation, she
accepted this relief and relaxed.  "Let me go, or I'll scream." She threatened
firmly.
   "Yes, you will scream.  Much more loudly than you ever dreamed you could."
As he said this, he began flexing his arm as though working his lat's at some
medieval gym.  Each extension of his arm lowered the blade, right down to her
neck; each retraction raised it again. 
   "Stop it!  I mean it, quit it!  Knock it off, let me up!"  She yelled.  "OK,
that does it, I'm gonna count to three, then I'm gonna scream."  She couldn't
believe she'd actually had the fortitude to say that.  She hoped he didn't
notice the beads of sweat that had just began to moisten her forehead; her
armpits.  "ONE."  She counted, firmly.  He stopped moving the blade, holding
the end of the rope several inched in front of her face.  "TWO." She continued,
fighting to keep the growing terror from reflecting in her voice.  He
re-arranged his fingers on the rope, holding the frayed tip gingerly now with
only his thumb and forefinger.  "Three" she whispered, her eyes now fixed on
his gentle hold on the rope which was her lifeline.  And she didn't scream, but
he let go anyway.
   Horrified, she watched as the rope rushed upward toward the pulley, passing
the blade as it fell.  "YIKES!"  she screamed, as the blade dropped below her
line of sight and she actually heard a dull thud.  THEN she screamed, screamed
for a full breath, then drew another breath and screamed again.  Her eyes
watched as the man stood up and reached for the rope again.  Her own muscles
were again supporting the weight of her head.  
   "Silly me." Said her executioner.  "I forgot to take off the "safety."  And
he pulled a block of wood--tall as her neck was thick--from the track on one
side of the machine.  Letting her look for a moment at the slice the blade had
made into the restraining piece of oak board, he tossed it aside.  He again
drew the blade up and the white rope down.  "Next time it's for real" he
whispered into her ear.
   The demonstration had cost her all of her composure.  Tears flowed, she now
struggled in the bonds she had previously accepted as secure.  And all the
while her mouth alternated randomly between begging and screaming.  When her
actions ceased to amuse him any longer, he again cradled her head; again moved
the rope toward her face.  This time, her response was to scream louder, and
struggle with all her might.  But he held her head steady, and, to her startled
surprise, shoved the frayed tip of the rope and several inches of it into her
mouth.  Then he pushed her jaw shut on it, letting go of the rope.  
   Her screaming stopped instantly, and he let go of her head again, returning
the task of supporting it to the muscles of her slender neck.  His hands stayed
within grabbing distance of the rope for a moment, until he was certain that
she understood physics of her new situation.  Then he took a prescription
bottle from his shirt pocket, swallowed a little blue pill, chasing it with an
airline-sized bottle of whisky from his other shirt pocket.  Then, to her
further horror, he began to strip.
    "Nice tits" he complimented.  "Are they real?"  Of course, he already knew
the answer.  He had fondled them at great length while stripping her and tying
her up.  But he wanted to see if she would answer him, and if so whether she
would lie or not.
   "No" she shook her head softly, her teeth still biting the rope like a
terrier at a postman's pant leg.
   "Well, they're still very nice."  He knelt beside her torso, sucking on her
left breast; and when he'd had his fill, moving around the other side of the
bench and sucking on her right for an equal amount of time.  Then he straddled
the bench, sitting heavily on her bound stomach.  "UMMMMMPPPPHHHH!" she said,
the air forced from her.  Her jaw had almost relaxed a bit, and she realized
she could not simply bite the rope this hard indefinitely.  She would have to
pace herself.  Carefully, she used her tongue to maneuver the rope between one
of her molars in back, and this made it much easier to hold.
   "Did you know that even after decapitation, you will have the power to alter
your facial expression, even blink?  It's true.  Until your brain dies from
lack of oxygen, you can stare at me, make faces, Wink at me if you'd like.  And
don't worry, I WILL be watching."
   Meanwhile, her soon-to-be-rapist had positioned his pecker between her
enhanced hooters, and pushed them together as he fucked back and forth, secure
in the knowledge that even if she let go on the upstroke, the blade would still
miss his dick by a few inches.  He was long, but not quite that long.  Soon, he
tired of this as well, and moved to the rear of the bench where her legs
dangled over the edge, unrestrained.  Lifting them perpendicular to her flat
stomach, he parted them.  
   The lips of her bald beaver were spread slightly by this action, and he
could see, to his disappointment, that her hole was quite dry.  Still holding
her legs upward and apart, he squatted and covered her small slit with his open
mouth.  As his mouth watered from the contact, he used his tongue to spread the
drool around inside her hole.  He was not performing oral sex on her, merely
prepping her for an act that HE would take pleasure in.  Satisfied that he
would now slide right in, he repeated the procedure an inch or so lower,
wetting the tiny pink hole of her anus.
   She had managed to ignore his oral ministrations to her snatch.  Even
setting aside the horror of her situation, she couldn't help but notice how bad
of a cunnilinguist the man was.  No wonder he had to use such force to get
laid.  Though his tonguing of her asshole did send a few waves of pleasure
rolling toward her brain, it also terrified her.  A few guys had licked her
there before, but they all wanted the same thing:  ANAL SEX!  And she'd always
refused.  Actually, she'd tried it once, with the most gentle and smallest of
her recent boyfriends, but had to make him stop because the pain had been to
great for her to bear.  And now a shudder went up her spine as it occurred to
her that this, this RAPIST was going to, to RAPE her in that way, and if she
cried out, the blade would drop--beheading her!
   But first, the man entered her tight, bald vagina.  After the first brutal,
painful thrust, she felt nothing.  In fact, while he was boffing her, she was
able to occupy her time carefully moving the rope with her tongue from one side
of her mouth to the other, and getting a better grip.  And she tried working
her wrists out of the handcuffs that held them beneath the bench, but they were
too tight.
   "Some of my guests don't believe me when I tell them that.  'How can anyone
move their eyelids when their head has been cut off?' they think.  But I always
encourage them to try it and see for themselves.  After all, what have they got
to lose?"
   Suddenly, he released her legs, letting them return to the floor while his
tempo thrusting into the hole between them increased markedly.  He clapped his
hands onto her breasts, roughly groping them.  On the next out stroke, he
completely withdrew from the now red-gaping hole, and leaped forward to again
straddle her torso.  His hands went to his dick, stroking it rapidly, as he
leaned forward, her nipples being brushed by his balls as his trunk-like legs
pushed the sides of her boobs inward.  Carelessly, he leaned forward further;
his dick now between the rails of the Guillotine, aimed directly at the pretty
captive's face.  She raised her head up all the way, to see what he was doing,
and was met with a spurt of jism in the eye.  Another leaped into her hair; a
third splatted her nose.  To his joy, the next one went were he was really
aiming, painting her upper lip and then dripping down inside her mouth right
beside were the rope entered.  As soon as she felt and tasted this shot, she
closed her lips tightly in an attempt to keep it out, but this smeared the
semen prettily over both top and bottom lip.  Meanwhile, another wad fell onto
her neck.
   It occurred to her that if she were going to let go of the rope, now would
be the time to do it.  She saw that his cock also lay in the path of the blade,
at least for the moment, but it was shrinking fast.  While she mustered her
courage, he decided for her, seizing the rope with his hand and commanding her
to "OPEN".  She did, and the rope was tied off.  Maybe now he would let her go,
she thought. 
   "One hole down, two to go!"  He announced as he was getting dressed.  "But
first, Dinner time.  I'm gonna go get an super-value meal, but I've got
something different in mind for you." He held up a white, two-liter bottle.
"You may have noticed that I didn't wear a condom.  This may sound strange, but
I only wear them when I masturbate.  Lemme explain.  See, every-time I see a
girl like you out in public, with a short skirt or low cut top, I always go
right home to beat-off.  And I always put a rubber on first.  That way, I can
save the juice!   I carefully put it in a bottle like this, and when the bottle
is full, I know I've been whackin'-off too much and it's time to get me another
real woman.  And the police task force they've got looking for me, they think
that the gap between my victims has something to do with the tides, or the
cycles of the moon, or failures in my personal life or some other horse-shit
theory.  They'll NEVER figure this out.  But now YOU know.  And now it's time
to empty my bottle and re-start on a new one.  Actually, YOU get to empty it
for me!
   He duct-taped the bottle to the bottom of one of the Guillotine rails.  Then
he inserted a thin, clear plastic tube into the bottle, making sure it reached
all the way to the bottom of the two liters of chilled white spunk.  That end
of the tube was taped into place. The other end of the long tube went into the
base of a cock-shaped rubber dildo--coming out flush at the tip.  He sucked on
the head of the fake cock himself, and they both watched as the white fluid
rose into the clear tube, like a milk-shake through a straw.  He stopped before
any came out of the phallus, and the fluid oozed slowly back into the plastic
bottle.
   Opening a Swiss Army Knife, he cut the frayed end off the Guillotine rope,
then untied it.  "The rope is round" he said, "But the hole in the dildo here
is oval.  See, it won't fit in unless I squeeze the dildo, 'rounding' out the
hole.  And once inside, it won't come out, either, UNLESS I SQUEEZE THE DILDO!"
 He demonstrated by letting go of the Guillotine rope, holding only the dildo.
"Now if this cock is squeezed--or bitten!--the hole in it becomes round again,
and releases the rope.  Understand?  So unlike before, when you HAD to hold the
rope with your teeth, now, you CAN'T let your teeth bite down.  You must keep
it in your mouth by gently sucking on it.  And of course, when you do, you'll
get to swallow the whole big bottle of my semen to nourish you!  Now open!"
   "No fuckin' way" she responded from between clenched teeth.  He pressed the
tip of the rubber cock to her lips.
     "You do what you want; I'm gonna let go."  He balanced the 8-inch wobbly
piece of rubber between her lips and his pinky.  "I feel it slipping….."  She
opened, and he forced it in deep. Deep enough to gag most girls, but Mary had
learned several boyfriends ago to ignore her gag reflex, and she was glad.  By
taking the rubber cock deep, it was well past her taste-buds and if the
diabolical configuration worked as he described, at least she wouldn't be able
to taste the huge quantity of semen that was about to drool into her.
   Again, he kept his hands within reach until he was sure she had it. 
"Remember, if you bite down, the rope releases.  If you quite sucking, the
weight of the blade will pull it from your mouth.  This is not the first time
I've done this, you know.  It's all been carefully calibrated, including the
weight of the blade; the diameter of the tube.  There is no way around it.  You
have to suck or die.  Should take less than an hour.  I'll be back after I
dine."  He was now spinning the dial on the combination lock that secured the
steel door.  "Oh, and one more thing, I hope you find my cum to be tasty and
delicious, but if you MUST vomit, do it gently, and try to make it come out
your nose.  That's your best chance of keeping the dildo in your mouth.  Bye."
   "Carefully calibrated my ass!"  She thought.  Her mouth was filling with the
gross, slimy fluid quicker than she could swallow it.  But if she sucked less
hard, the rubber dildo began to slide out of her mouth, and she could see the
glistening blade inch lower.  She concentrated on swallowing as fast as she
could, knowing that if the slippery juice overflowed and coated her dry lips,
the cock would slip free.  She hollowed her cheeks to store the semen while she
held her breath and swallowed repeatedly.  She was swallowing as fast and as
hard as she could, but it was a losing battle.  A rivet escaped from the corner
of her mouth, dripping toward, and then to her utter annoyance, INTO her left
ear canal.  
   Her mouth was completely full, and yet she had to stop swallowing--had to
pause to take a breath.  Terrified, she knew what she must do.  As carefully as
she could, she let the cock slip outward one inch, then two.  Then three. 
Steadily controlling the rate of withdraw by careful suction, she let it
retreat to the knob of the penis-shaped phallus.  Her eyes had never blinked as
she watched the shiny blade inch toward her, not at all certain she could stop
it.  But it did stop, and the semen flow had paused as well and she had been
able to take a few deep breaths but was now sucking and swallowing again. 
Caught up for the moment, but once again her mouth was beginning to fill faster
than she could swallow.  And this time when the semen reached her lips, there
would be no way to make any extra room.  She sucked and swallowed as best she
could, fighting the nausea that was rumbling in her bloated, tightly bound
belly.  Again her cheeks filled out, and again some of the vile substance
drooled from the corner of her mouth.  But suddenly, she heard a sucking sound,
clear as when she reached the bottom of a frozen Slurpie.  
   Still she sucked, but no more semen rose from the tube.  And after
swallowing what remained in her mouth, she knew that she had consumed it all.
Yes, she still had to suck, but now it was easier to keep the dildo in her
mouth.  Now that she could breathe freely and there wasn't a bubbling geyser of
semen trying to force it out.  
   Moments later, the door opened again and her nemesis returned, sipping from
a fast food cup.  "Drank it all?  Good.  Bet you're tired of sucking, eh? 
Well, that's OK. I will want a blow job in a little while, but for now, I'm
gonna dew ya up the butt, OK?"  He'd wasted no time in discarding all his
clothes. And again he raised her legs and parted them.  And again he gave her
anus a lewd "mouth-to-mouth re-lubrication".  "Gonna shove this in a little
farther, to muffle the scream, OK?" He hadn't waited for answers to these
obviously rhetorical questions.  He pushed the rubber dick all the way into her
mouth.  Then he guided his own dick to her moist nether hole.  "By the way, if
this hurts--and I think it will--feel free to bite down on the dildo."  She
looked at him quizzically.  "Yeah, all that 'round-rope, oval hole' stuff was
bullshit.  You could have been biting down on that thing all the while I was
gone, but if you'd KNOWN that, you wouldn't have drank any of my come.  So I
had to lie to you about how the rope stayed inside the dildo.  There was
actually a little capsule of super glue in the hole.  When I squeezed it, it
broke the capsule, and when I put the rope in, the glue took hold and dried
almost instantly.  Pretty cool trick, eh?  Fooled ya!"
   With that, he rammed his cock in deep.  She DID bite down on the rubber
cock, and it DID muffle her scream of agony.  In and out he fucked, royally
reaming her rectal chute.  He leaned forward, forcing her legs up farther.
This move made her ass more vulnerable still and gained him another inch of
penetration.  His shoulders kept her legs bent back, as his hands caressed,
squeezed, and drew apart her ample buttocks.
   The easier access this afforded him led him to fuck her faster and deeper.
He leaned forward still farther, his slight beer-belly now resting on where her
pelt of pubic hair would have been--if she'd had such a forest. 
   Farther still he leaned, watching the agony play across her facial features.
 Her tears flowed faster with each increase in the tempo of his fucking.  Her
bladder burst from the excess weight he was resting upon her.  Urine soaked and
matted his pubic hair and washed over his rapidly pistoning shaft.  As her own
piss was worked into her butthole, it acted as more lubrication enabling the
anal-rapist to speed up still more.  Suddenly, he collapsed onto her
magnificent tits, devouring them, slobbering all over them and finally clamping
his teeth into her right nipple.  His ramrod expanded and exploded as his body
spasmed. 
   And her rectum filled with semen.
   "We're nearing the end of our time together" he informed her, after
dismounting.  Grabbing the Guillotine rope, he pulled the chewed-up dildo from
her mouth and cut it off the rope with his Swiss Army Knife.  Her mouth
remained gaping open, having been that way so long it would have taken a
conscious mental command from her to close it.  So he pushed her jaw shut for
her after re-inserting the rope.  "I'm still gonna want a blow job in a little
while, but we can do that before OR after your beheading. But first, we'll have
to play a few games to get me aroused.
   "You look shocked!  Surprised perhaps by the thought of me using your
severed head as a masturbation aid?  Well, as a matter of fact, you can count
on it!  See, even if I fuck your face while your head is still on your
shoulders, that won't be the last time.  Your body, I'll no longer have any use
for, but your head, your pretty face, your soft mouth, THAT goes in my freezer
for another day.  And a nice, hot blow-job is as close as my microwave!  Yes,
indeedy, most heads are good for 3 or 4 defrostings before they really start to
lose their appeal!  But enough about your afterlife, on with the sex games!"
   A feather was produced, and he began his search for ticklish spots.  And
Mary WAS ticklish.  In fact, she was the most ticklish person she knew. 
(Though surely all of his "guests" felt likewise about THEIR level of
ticklishness.) But certainly nothing could amuse her under THESE conditions.
But within a minute, her body betrayed her, revealing to him just where her
most sensitive areas were.  Her ears, her neck, her underarms, her nipples,
her belly button, her thighs, behind her knees, and her calves ALL felt the
merciless ministrations of his feather.  In that order.  Each tickle-zone more
sensitive than the one before it.  And there was only one explanation for that:
Her tortured mind knew that he was edging closer and closer to her MOST
ticklish area--the soles of her feet!  
   She'd pulled away in annoyance when the feather traced her ear.  "Hmmmph"ed
angrily, as it ran down her neck.  Squirmed, but for the most part maintained
her wits about her as the feather dug softly into her armpits. She already knew
this man well enough to have figured out THIS game.  He was searching for her
MOST ticklish spot, and once there, he would stay until he had his fill of
torturing her, or until she literally died laughing.  He lingered much longer
on her nipples, and that almost got her.  But the ticklish feeling was mixed
with sexual pleasure, and by concentrating on that, she was able to prevent
herself from laughing. Her nipples hardened, and for the first time since her
ordeal began, her pussy began to moisten of its own accord--filling the room
with the scent of aroused femininity.
   Knowing that this was not the killer-ticklish spot he was seeking, he
reluctantly moved down farther, parting the coil of rope enough to get to her
belly button.  She laughed a muffled laugh, but quickly steeled herself against
this assault.  Next stop, her inner thighs.  She giggled a little, still biting
the rope tightly.  But again was able to compose herself.  "This does not
tickle" she insisted to herself, silently lying to her own brain.  Beneath her
knees was the beginning of the end of her composure.  Since her legs were
unrestrained, she tried to move them away from the feather.  At first, he
simply followed, but she was always able to escape when the tickling became
unbearable.  So he grabbed her legs and began a merciless attack.  Suddenly
unable to get away, she burst out laughing.  And so he continued there.
   "Stop!" she begged, through her clenched teeth.  "UNCLE!"  But there was no
safe word.  He noticed her laughter and squirming got worse when the feather
slid up to the back of her shins.  Not that this area was more ticklish,
really, just that it was closer to her feet.  She knew that if he discovered
THAT spot--and the discovery seemed imminent--she was a goner.  And that
thought cracked her up.  And the thought that THAT cracked her up, cracked her
up.  AND THEN, he did it.  He moved the feather to the soles of her feet!
   "FUCK!  SHITTTTT.  nnnnooooooOOOOOO!!!" she pleaded.  Then she went psycho.
Squirming and kicking and struggling with all her might.  But he held on, and
continued the tickle-torture.  She writhed, tearing her belly with rope-burns,
while his two liters of come sloshed around inside her.  She urinated again,
giving up control of her bodily functions.  And all the while, she was laughing
like a first-time pot smoker at a George Carlin concert.  Her head tossed from
side to side, and then up and down. The blade too bobbed up and down. But still
she bit into the rope.  In fact, she damn-near bit through it! 
   He continued, but his efforts were slowing.  He was nearly worn out with the
effort it took to hold her muscular legs in place.  One leg got away, and she
kicked him in the head, hard, knocking his glasses across the floor.  Then she
used both feet to push him away, and he landed on his butt on the floor. 
Hyperventilating, she yanked at the handcuffs till blood dripped from each
wrist.  And she gasped in agony as she heard and felt her right thumb break.
   Suddenly, the man was sitting on her stomach, replacing his now cracked
spectacles on his face.  "YOU BITCH!  I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU KICKED ME LIKE THAT!
I was just playing around, I wasn't hurting you, YET!  But I'm gonna now. 
Reaching bravely through the path of the blade, he grabbed her hair and pulled
her head up so that she could bear witness to her punishment.  Pinching her
right nipple, he used the Swiss Army Knife to cut it off!  Then did the same to
her left!  Then he tore off two short pieces of duct tape to bandage her
wounds.  As her mind reeled from the pain and the irreversibility of the
sadistic act, she watched in horror as he impaled both severed nipples on a
poker blade of the knife and held them over the flame of a bic lighter. 
"That's about medium rare" he said, popping them into his mouth and chewing.
   She looked pale, about to faint.  "Oh no you don't." he said, grabbing the
rope a moment before her mouth released it.  He had to switch hands