Roses last day

Rose sat in the conservatory, it was late January and she was watching the last snow outside building against the fence. She knew in her heart that it was the last time she would watch snow. The thaw was forecast and she knew she would not see another English winter.
She also knew our fun and games with him had ceased so her marks would fade, She sighed, picked up her pen and in her neat handwriting she began to write, after the first sentence she consulted the old paper she had shown us all those months ago.

She read; Beheading, beside which it said in pencil; - too quick and it had an x, shaking her head she scrubbed it out, likewise she summarily disposed of Electrocution, Shooting, Drowning, Choking, Burning at the stake and Spit roast over coals with a single stroke of her pen she dismissed the ideas then after a little thoughtful gazing at nothing, she began to write again It said;

This is my final wish, on the day of my choice,

That I Rose, Elizabeth Chantry in the company of the executioner of my choice and in a prepared dungeon should be hung over an impaling spike and lowered gently onto its point till it at a position at the maximum my body can comfortably except in my sexual cavity, I will tell the executioner when that is and he will mark the lift so as to be able to add just an inch or so later. I do not wish to die by this method, but I do wish to experience the pain and the wonderful feelings of impalement.

My folks can now come to watch my demise but it must be without tears and they must wear hoods and black silk robes which will be supplied. Now and only now may they use either my name or their own in greeting as after this moment the filming and recording will begin.
On my command the executioner will lower me just that one more full-inch to the mark which will then allow the spike to pierce my gut. Each person will now supply a little urine in a single jug and with my grandsons funnel it will be poured into my throat. (Sorry my beloved daughter, I hate the taste but it is my final distraction from the pain and as a tribute to you it will be your final treat) I am to be removed from my metal lover after just ten minutes of its caress.

I then wish to be inverted legs open wide using the spreader bar, my wrists secured to the anchors and stretched on the lift till I am over tightened like a vertical rack until the spreader bends slightly. Then I wish my tight skin to be scourged with my favourite nine tail cat for the very last time. Just one swipe by each of you in turn and you must not spare me, please it's your last chance.

Then remembering please that I shall be already losing life blood from that spikes damage, the lady executioner may use that scourge on my back, the executioner may please whip my sex till it is both sore and bloody using the whip of his choice both immediately stopping as the blood runs.

We will then say our silent goodbyes, remembering the anonymity for the camera, the executioner and I being the only speaker's!

My beloved grandson now will insert the funnel into my rosebud so the executioner may pour a pre-set amount of the strongest acid that I could obtain deep into my body, that done, next, the funnel will be inserted as far into me where the spike has already opened the way as is possible and the second larger bottle poured, the last dregs being poured over my open clitoris as I will have no further use for it or life itself.

No doubt I will scream louder than I ever have as the acid takes its course, enjoy it and if you will, please fornicate as I pass away, please do it as I feel it is so fitting and I will know the spectacle is turning you on.
Immediately after I have finally ceased to scream my wrists should be slit by the executioner to drain my blood, and to be sure or If I request a swift end with my safe word which I have never ever used, he must slit my throat (I hope I am brave enough and will not now use it) but as we never know our own strength.

Soon after I am gone I wish a leg to be removed butchered roasted and eaten by my family and friends at the dukes table that evening ensuring me being at that final meal with you all.
Please enjoy me both in my death throes which I am looking forward too with a strange relish, and at the meal.
Then she signed it Rose Elizabeth Chantry with a flourish.

We of course knew nothing of this and about a month passed, with just vanilla sex, when Rose was collected one afternoon by the duke's driver, returning later and saying she had made her wishes known and they had been readily agreed by his lordship. She had three copies of her wishes in sealed envelopes and saying we could open them when and only when she told us to do so.
We had to bide our time, it was not an easy wait.

It was soon the last day of March grey cold raining and miserable. We were told we were going to the manor in the morning. We all knew the score.

The doctor, at Roses request having taken the week off staying with us and sleeping with her overnight. I sharing Mays bed once more, but by common consent not a word of what was to come was said. The morning of April the first dawned seasonally as grey as the day before and Rose washed and toileted her-self like any other day. The big car appeared and she bade us open our envelopes as soon as she had left and be ready to leave at 11, she kissed us each and then was driven off in the dark windowed car.

We each went off to read, there was a personal letter with mine and I suspect the same in each of the others, mine saying private things I won't repeat here and there was a copy of her wish sheet. I read it with tears falling, but I knew if it was her wish it would have to happen.
No one felt like eating so just before 11 we all met red of eye in a sad and sombre mood in the kitchen. May said; we must be brave, if Rose wants it as her last wish and can do it, we must. She gave us each a large drink of wine saying it would brace us for the ordeal and fill our bladders to tribute Rose as she had asked. Sharp at 11 we were collected by the big car and we swished our way over wet roads to the manor.

We were ushered by the butler into the dining room and given black silks and hoods. We each got stripped, dressed and then sat waiting in a deathly silence.

At last the duchess; dressed as we were, fetched us and we walked behind her down those now familiar passageways. The door opened and all round the dungeon walls were curtained in white sheets. Under the lift hung Rose by her wrists naked and with a hideous steel tapered post inserted deep in her sex. She welcomed us as if we had come to a party; she smiled and said “she was glad we had all come to watch and please to each stick rigidly to my wish list.” May said “it was not too late to change your mind mum,” but Rose answered “no May it`s what I want, it`s time to go and it`s my wish to go in an agony of my own sexual joy.

The tip of that metal spike is just pricking at the top of my womb; I have climaxed already on it and never ever felt so full, it will be lovely!” May nodded her understanding and the duchess pulled a plastic jug from under her cloak, in it some of her fresh urine, steaming in the cold room as she gave it to May, she then fetched a long thin funnel which she held while I took my turn adding to the jug. She presented it to me while the doctor added his own contribution. In turn each of us relieved our bladders, by standing over the central drain.

Rose now asked if the film was running, which the executioner confirmed, and then she said to us all nodding at the jug “thank you all and this will soon be goodbye, after the acid is applied there can be no earthly chance of going back.”
The executioner now stood at the marked lift chain, she nodded at him and said “carry on please”

Without hesitation he nodded, the chain rattled and he lowered her weight completely onto her last lover. She groaned as her body weight came onto the sharp point of the lance, the weight began to allow the point to pierce her insides you could see by her face the intense pain and she grunted a sort of semi scream perhaps of pain or perhaps of shear enjoyment of the sensation and the friction against her clitoris as the dry pole slid past. I stood fascinated, watching her absorb the shaft and enjoy the intense pain. The doctor nudged me and I awoke from my trance.

I had a role to play and I would not let her down, I stepped up to her she opened her mouth obligingly tilting her head back, and took in the funnel end. The doctor poured the warm mix into her throat and she gulped down each glug to save her from drowning, we paused she breathed then again the draught was poured again she swallowed, then took another breath, the pain in her guts forgotten as she fought for air, another breath then the third tip emptied the pint jug into her. I removed the funnel and she gurgled and coughed then began to moan a long drawn out wail as the pain of that terrible spike slowly penetrated her brain, her weight slowly embedding the point deeper inside her till the lift took up her full weight and it went no further.

The executioner checked the clock and she moaned pitifully f or the whole 10 minutes, before the chains rattled and she was lifted clear of the gore covered point once more. Rose sighed as if she was losing her last lover, as the executioner slewed the long pin away its job done. He lowered her to the floor dripping blood from her open sex. Realizing how fast she was bleeding he was quick in fitting a spreader bar to her ankles’ then attaching her wrists to the floor rings and the chains again rattled, we watched fascinated as her feet rose above her big soft breasts fell towards her face. Her hair trailed below her and she slowly became inverted. She hung for a second then slowly the lift pulled her as tight as a bow-string, the thin bar of the spreader began to bend and her body was in traction. The lift stopped; her body now as an open container the blood temporarily ceased running.

The executioner ran a damp cloth over her cunt, wiping away the marks. Her breathing deep but ragged, as she watched as I picked up the cat and struck at her upturned breasts, red lines appeared on the underside of the soft hanging tits and she groaned appreciatively as I passed it to her daughter, who did the same tearing the soft flesh a little. The doctor next striking at her belly then Passing it on to the lady executioner who began to flay the now groaning woman's back.

The executioner, standing front of her, was using a knotted quirt to strike at her labia and clit. She screamed, and then cried yes, yes, yes as each stroke beat at her soft tissues. Blood spurted from her, whether from the quirt or the spike it was not easy to tell, but the whipping stopped as she climaxed and the blood ran. She was still in much pain we could tell, but she smiled as each in turn silently knelt and kissed her, tears falling to the last as she had wished, to her executioner she whispered “please begin to finish me now” it was a command.
He nodded to me and I silently stepped forward and felt between her legs till I found her familiar soft rosebud, the rosebud I had fingered and filled so many times over the past year. I was about to destroy it and its lovely masochistic owner. My finger opened her and the tip of the funnel was inserted, the executioner stood behind her and held a jar of foul smelling acid. He grunted “ready?” And she said clearly “please!”

He carefully poured the contents into the funnel where with a gurgle it drained into her bowel, in seconds she began to moan then scream, scream, loud and long, eardrum breaking screams, There being no going back now, I moved my funnel, forcing it deep into the bloody channel and the man without hesitation poured the second larger bottle into her body. Her screams doubled, and I took the funnel from her pointing it at her hood and waiting for the drip's of acid from both jars to reach her tender clit, fumes like smoke rose from the tender flesh and her already high screams went up another octave. The doctor was screwing the lady executioner as Rose had requested in the doggy position spurred on I suspect by the sounds.

As the copulates finished and my duty done, I mounted her daughter who lay waiting for me and we both saw her eyes, though watering badly, lock on to us, as she nodded her approval and we began our jig, her voice becoming hoarse as she screamed the high notes way off the scale. The executioner hovered, his curved knife in hand ready to slit her throat if she called her safe word or just to drain her body when she passed if she didn't.

Ten long minutes went 11 and then 12, we had long given up our climax and both lay watching her settling to the fantastic pain of her dissolving innards.

She had chosen and measured the acid out herself, it was now burning itself deep into her gut, nothing but her screaming face was in our consciousness, as she rolled her eyes and shook her head with the massive pain. The executioner cut her hands free and she began to contort with the violent cramps, dribbles of acid splashing from the overfull body as she contorted leaving tiny red trails down her belly, smoking and burning as it went. Fume's like smoke rising from the bubbling void that had once been her sex organs, her pride and joy.
Suddenly, to our relief it was over, with a final gasp she hung slumped and silent. The duke slit the veins in her arms and her life blood began to drain from her limp body in a flood of dark red. The duke collected us up and we shuffled away to the library in tears, to the sound of the first splash of acid hitting the ground having burnt its way through her belly.

In the library stood the butler with his tray of brandy where we sat in stunned silence, her executioner s hands still bloody. We drank to Rose the bravest masochist I ever met.
After hosing off so they could handle it, her body vanished later to an unmarked grave on the estate, it was a place that she had picked only we 5 know the location. . It was a light, one legged bundle wrapped in plastic that we respectfully interred, when we all attended the graveside. The acid having eaten most of the flesh, the doctor and the duke having dealt with what little remains were left of the body!

Then I with care scrubbed the chamber clean removing all trace of the virulent acid and washing away all trace of Rose Elizabeth Chantry.

That evening; we all ate in near tears and by candle-light all drinking heavily, after the starter, the main was served, a tender joint sliced at the table by the unknowing butler who remarked on the lean and tenderness of the meat. Every bite was a trial. The sweet was an ice-cream; it had been molded in the shape of a rose.

That snuff film sold for millions, and we each have a copy of our own, I sometimes wonder how often each of us watches my grand-mother's death throes.
May married Andy later that year living with him up at the hall, The doctor set up home with his male receptionist and I took a girlfriend, a lass called Emma who dominates me in all things we live in the old home now but it's called ‘Rose villa.’