500 words a day

754 words 14th August 2009

Flowing through her she felt it reach her toes in seconds. Then, as if it had turned against her she felt the burn. She knew it was going to happen; so many people had talked about it over and over and over again. The fact that they seemed so obsessed with it, even the hideous parts, had been one the reasons she’d decided to try it. Obviously, more attractive was the apparently most intense orgasmic highs that repeated over and over, took you away, completely and utterly to a different world and more than that, lasted for weeks, actually weeks too not just  distorted perceptions. It took somewhere between 5 and 6 weeks for the average user to come down. Sometimes, the first time, it had been known to last up to 2 and a half months. 





She knew the pain would last for an hour at the most and as she felt the heightening sense of heat spreading through her body, she began to tense up. She stood in the middle of the floor trying to think of something else, anything to take her mind off it, but as predicted by every singly jazz-head she’d ever spoken to, nothing worked. Absolutely nothing worked, you just had to accept it, you were going to be tortured for the next hour and it was unbearable, and yet you did bear it, you would come out of it, you would survive even though, she could honestly say right now as the ends of her fingers and toes felt as if a red hot needle was being shoved under the nail of each one and wiggled about and a cruel sadist pushed a blunt instrument into each of her eyes whilst another squeezed her clitoris as hard as humanly possible with a large rusty pair of pliers, she could honestly say, that all she wanted was for her life to snuff out, to cease to exist to never be,  wipe out all memories, any pleasure she’d ever had, her beautiful son, her wonderful friends who were always there for her, she wanted to be able to offer these torturers, who unfortunately didn’t exist to be bartered with, all of these golden moments from her life, they could have them all. Even, if they had to, she’d let them torture her loved ones, she wanted them to have this pain, no question, any sense of guilt completely absent, no room for it at all, only room for trying to find a way out of this much much worse than death experience. She was aware that she was screaming but couldn’t hear herself she thrashed a out on the floor, banged her head against the floor, pulled at her hair, ran around the room over and over, but it made not the slightest impression on her. She felt nothing but the pain everywhere, her buttocks felt as if the skin had been sanded off and someone was rubbing them with lemon, her breasts felt as if someone was slicing them off bit by bit starting with the nipples,  but they only had a small not very sharp penknife so had to keep sawing at them and tugging at the skin which was a bit tough. ON the left side she felt the tear as it was pulled viciously as the impatience of her torturer finally took over and the penknife was discarded.


As suddenly as it started it stopped and she opened her eyes to find herself in a corer behind the sofa, The bright red of the wall covering too much for her eyes. She couldn’t feel any more pain and it was the most amazing feeling she’d ever had n her life. This was the happiest she’d ever ever been. She realised she’d soiled herself but she didn’t care, nothing would bother her again. She knew now that her life was destined to be wonderful for ever more. Everything that happened in her life from now on would be a wonderful joyous happening compared to the last hour. Rolling around in her own filth was like a luxury cruise. The concept of a high that surpassed all this and lasted for several weeks seemed utterly absurd and yet as she thought this she could feel her eyes widening, her stomach churning pleasantly and a tingle shoot up the back of her neck. She leapt up and screamed in ecstasy, laughing and crying and tearing at her clothes as the rush rolled over her and took her completely.








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Steve Wybourn





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