sedit666

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Standard Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, yada yada yada. It is not real. No animals were injured in the writing of this story. If gay snuff ain't your thing, pick up a copy of the Washington Post instead of reading this. Kids, don't try this at home. Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear.

THE GIFT

BY JOHN BOY IN VIRGINIA

You know the expression, the gift that keeps on giving? Well, that expression certainly holds true with a present that I was able to give an acquaintance of mine, and one that I received in return.

I first met Reynolds through an advertisement he posted on a newsgroup. It read:

"Help me get my birthday wish. A-F jock seeks the ultimate present; snuffing on birthday. Serious offers only. Will travel. Your photo gets mine in return."

The Internet is full of bullshitters - I have met plenty in my day. I've responded to such posts before only to be jerked around with someone who was in for the fantasy only. Fantasy is fine, but reality rules. I was looking for reality.

I typed a quick note, not getting into too many details, and sent it off with my picture.

A day went by, then two, and three. No response. Just as I thought.

Then one day about a week later, I signed on and heard the familiar "You've Got Mail!" Sure enough, the boy had written back. He apologized for being tardy in his return, but he had been cramming for finals at college. He stated he was 24 years old, and a grad student at George Washington University in DC. Reynolds, as I found out that was his name, would be turning 25 in three months. Always fascinated with bondage, domination, S&M, and especially snuff, the only thing he wanted for his birthday was the present of never having another one.

I then downloaded his picture.

The kid was stunning - something right out of Abercrombie & Fitch. He was standing on the beach at Ocean City, Md. Reynolds wore a boxy bathing suit in a dark plaid motif. He was a tall boy, 6'3", maybe 6'4". His body was perfectly sculptured from the rowing and soccer he plays. His flesh was velvety and smooth, and just the slightest bit tan. He had wonderfully defined abs and pecs, and beautiful rich, round red nipples.

Reynolds' face was also a thing of beauty. Chiseled chin, high cheekbones. Laughing green eyes, floppy brown hair. Full lips parted in a carefree smile. He was an All-American Boy. It was hard to believe this kid was into the shit he said he was into, and I still wasn't convinced.

For all I knew, this was still a bullshit game, or a ploy to set me up. I typed Reynolds a note, telling him to send me nudes of him. I wanted a meeting, immediately.

Over the next few days, we corresponded back and forth. I agreed to travel to DC, and reserved a large hotel suite right in the District. On one of the double beds I laid out some tools, dildos of various sizes, alligator clamps, handcuffs, ropes, plastic bags, duct tape, gags, blindfolds, just to name a few. In front of the vacant bed I had a digital camcorder on a tripod, ready to record our session.

I sat and sipped a Scotch and waited for my young friend to come calling.

At the prearranged time, Reynolds knocked at the door. The boy was even more beautiful in person. He wore a gray GWU sweatshirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.

"John?" he said as he entered the room. Then he looked over to the bed and saw the toys. He broke into that winning smile of his. "I guess I'm in the right place."

"Come in boy," I said, and went back to my chair and Scotch. I turned on the camcorder.

"I will ask you questions, you answer them. With each question I ask, you remove an article of clothing. When you are nude, stand with your hands behind your back," I said.

Reynolds stood at attention.

"State your name."

"Reynolds Carson Bailey." He removed his sweatshirt.

"Age?"

"Twenty-four, at present." He pulled off his tee shirt.

"Occupation."

"Graduate student." He kicked off his shoes.

"Residence."

"I live in Alexandria, Sir. I am originally from Iowa." Off came the socks.

"Sexual experience."

"Outwardly, Sir, I am straight. I have a girlfriend. But I am gay, Sir. I regularly hook up with men from the Internet or visit one of DC's bathhouses. I frequently visit a man in Baltimore who is experienced in bondage and S&M, and he has been training me for the past six months." After that mouthful, Reynolds dropped his jeans.

I looked at the boy, drank in his beauty as he stood before me in his boxer shorts. I could see his cock throbbing underneath the fabric. There was a slight wet stain where the dickhead was held captive under the layer of cotton.

"What do you want from me, boy?" I asked.

"It has been my desire for some time now Sir to die, to be snuffed. I am not suicidal, but I do wish to be killed. I have always had a fascination with the subject, and the training I have been receiving has prepared me to make this decision. I do not want to live to see another birthday." He then dropped his underwear.

Reynolds stood before me, his 8-inch boydick beet red and slobbering a thin line of precum from the large mushroom head. The kid was incredible, and I sure hoped this would turn out like I wanted it.

"How do you want to die, boy?"

"Any way you see fit, Sir." He stood at military attention, his hands behind his back. His eyes stared forward, unblinking.

"You aren't playing a game, are you? I'm not in the playing mood."

"No Sir." The kids shivered a bit.

"What's wrong, boy?"

"I...I... just the prospect of it happening, Sir." He glanced down at me, then looked away.

I stood up and started taking my clothes off. As I stripped, I circled the kid, like a shark circling it's meal. When I was nude, I handcuffed Reynolds and bound his ankles. A large dildo went in the kid's ass, alligator clips on his tits. I tied his cock and balls tight. I made him kneel.

Reynolds was an excellent cocksucker. His mouth worked my dick and balls like a whore. He was really getting into it. He made little sighs that were absolutely precious. His saliva had me wet and shiny and dripping all over the carpet.

I put my hand on the back of Reynolds' head and pushed him down on me even further. The boy never lost his momentum. I rubbed his head, and moved my hand down to his neck.

"Do you know how you will die, boy?"

"MMMMmmmmmpppphhhh," he said, his mouth full of cock. He shook his head "no."

"I will sever this beautiful head from your beautiful body with one whack of a sword."

Reynolds moaned loudly and, without his dick being touched, started ejaculating. The kid cream coated my leg, and that's all it took for me to get a nut in his mouth.

"YEAH KID, EAT IT!" I yelled. "EAT YOUR EXECUTIONER'S CUM."

We had lots of fun that night, and all of it was recorded for prosperity. I dismissed Reynolds at 5 a.m. He had eaten one load of my cum and taken two others up his ass. His back and ass was already starting to show bruising. His wrist and ankles were chaffed from the bondage. His nipples were purple for the clamps. I wondered how he would explain this to his girlfriend if he fucked her any time soon.

Before he left, we had gone over the details of how his execution would take place.

We would have no further contact until one week before his birthday. At that time, he would take Amtrak to Richmond. I'd pick him up at the station, and drive him to my home in Norfolk.

Time went by slowly for me, but I kept busy. I frequently watched the video of my session with Reynolds and beat off during the film.

About a month before his birthday, I drove out into the country, out into the swampy area of Virginia Beach. I did a lot of walking, and forged a few of my own trails until I found the perfect spot for killing the kid.

There was a clearing, which was surrounded by hundred-year-old cypress and oak trees. It wasn't a large clearing, but big enough. Most of the ground was overgrown with tall grass and weeds, but some was open. Several large trees lay across the clearing, felled years before perhaps by a hurricane or lightening.

It was a beautiful place. Serene. Private. A wonderful place for Reynolds to spend his last day on earth. I removed my clothes and beat off, thinking about the boy, and this gift I was going to give him, and what I would receive in return.
 
The Gift Part 2

The day came when Reynolds would make his trek from DC on his final journey in life. I drove to Richmond and waited for the train.

I stood on the platform and watched it arrive. Then he stepped off.

Reynolds wore a mustard yellow sweater over a white turtleneck. His khakis were meticulously pressed. His loafers were shined. He looked like he was going to church, not his death. He saw me in the crowd, and smiled as he walked over to me. He stuck out his hand, and I took it in mine.

"Hello, Sir," he said.

"Hello boy. Are you ready?"

"Yes Sir, I am."

There was no luggage to pick up - he wouldn't be needing any change of clothes. The week leading up to his death would be spent nude. He'd put back on the same clothes when I took him to the special spot I found for the execution.

We chatted a bit on the drive down to Norfolk, but the subject of the execution never came up. Reynolds talked about his folks and girlfriend. He spoke about his studies at GW. He shared with me his favorite foods, music, and movies. I could tell he was nervous.

"You know, Reynolds, you have come this far, there is no turning back."

"I know, Sir. It's just that now the date is so close. It's not just a game, is it?"

"You don't want it to be, do you?"

"No Sir, but, I have to tell you, I am scared."

"I would think anyone in your situation would be, Reynolds."

"Am I doing the right thing, Sir?"

"Boy, it doesn't matter anymore. When you asked me to do this that night in the DC hotel room, I told you I would uphold my end of the bargain. At this point, I am going to make sure you do the same."

The kid swallowed hard and looked out the side window.

"Yes Sir," he said. We didn't say anything the rest of the drive.

The next week with Reynolds was a delight. In my apartment in the Ghent neighborhood of Norfolk, we had lots of sex. The boy was generous with his body - he shared everything with me, he gave it all to me. I marveled at his beauty, and his lust to please.

At night, I bound his hands and ankles and kept his on the floor at the foot of my bed. During my slumber, I would dream of the kid, and often wake up and pull him next to me, and use his body for pleasure.

I learned a lot about Reynolds, something I really enjoyed. Many times these things are rushed, and sometimes the other participant is, shall I say, less than willing. I felt like I really knew Reynolds, and in some ways, I probably knew him better than anyone else. He opened up to me, shared all of his deepest, darkest secrets. There were even a few "deathbed" confessions.

The night before his birthday, I went to Kroger and bought a cake. We celebrated that night with pizza, beer, cake and ice cream. Our sex was intense, his passion almost overwhelming. The next morning, we slept in.

The sun was high in the winter sky when I awoke. I looked at Reynolds sleeping at the foot of my bed. Some of my cum had dried on the side of his face, and it glistened in the sunlight filtering through the bedroom window.

I showered and packed my executioner's bag: handcuffs, rope, and my camcorder. The sword and a shovel were already in the trunk of my car.

I laid out the clothes which Reynolds had worn down to Norfolk the week before and woke him up.

The boy was shaking. I had to talk with him.

"Come on kid, it's your birthday. The big Two-Five. This is the gift you've wanted."

I didn't want the boy to bail now. I'd have to snuff him in my apartment; something I didn't want to happen. And it wouldn't be the way I wanted it to go, either.

"Have you had a good week with me?"

"Yes Sir," he said, tears welling in his eyes.

"You've been a good boy, I've enjoyed this," I said, brushing his floppy hair out of his face. I leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

"Be a good boy for John, come on, lets go. I've got a special place to take you."

He was silent as he dressed. I tucked my gun in my jeans just in case he tried to bolt. But he didn't. He walked downstairs and got into the car.

It was a good 45 minutes before we reached the country. We parked along the side of a rural road and headed off into the woods. I made Reynolds carry everything so I could pull out my gun quickly in case there was trouble. There was none.

We came upon the clearing, and he sat the equipment down. The sun was beating down on the two of us, and it was a gorgeous day. It was one of those rare winter days we get in southeastern Virginia sometimes; it was just warm enough and no bitter north wind.

Reynolds cast his eyes to the sky and surveyed the landscape.

"It is nice here," he said.

"Yes, it's a good place for this, don't you think?"

He nodded his head.

"Will it hurt, John?"

"No baby, it won't. I've had the blade sharpened, and I know what I am doing. You'll feel the initial strike, but then nothing at all. You will be aware for a few seconds after it happens that you have been beheaded; you won't loose your sense of perception right away. But then, it will be done."

The kid shook. I walked over and hugged him.

"Thank you, John," he said. "Thank you for the gift."

"Ah, Reynolds, you have given me a lot too. I will never forget you, or this very special day. Thank you."

We walked over to one of the trees, which lay, on the ground. It was an old tree when it died - a stark contrast to young Reynolds. The trunk was thick, and was the perfect height for resting my boy's neck.

I positioned the camcorder so I could catch all of the action, and turned it on.

"It is time, son," I said. Reynolds began to strip, carefully removing his clothes and folding them neatly.

"Mom always told me to be careful with my things," he said, and choked on his words. Tears ran down his face. "What will happen to my clothes? Mom gave this sweater to me on my last birthday." He looked at me through teary eyes.

"I'll take care of it, don't worry. Don't worry."

Once nude, Reynolds picked up the shovel and began digging a shallow grave close to where he would die. He was a big, strong boy, and it didn't take him too long. Even with the nippiness in the air, he broke a sweat, and his body was incredible, shining and shimmering in the afternoon sun. I marveled at watching his muscles work as he dug shovelfuls of dirt, clearing his final resting-place.

"I think I'm done, John," he said, and dropped the shovel.

I went behind the boy and placed my hands on his shoulders. I led him over to the tree, and gently pressed down, indicating him to kneel.

"Reynolds, lean over now. Extend your head as far as it will go. Put all your weight on the log."

He followed my instructions perfectly. He turned his head facing the camera.

I pulled his hands behind his back and put on the handcuffs. I bent down and tied his ankles. I walked behind Reynolds so I would not obstruct any of the scene for the camera.

"I can see your shadow, John," he said. "I'll be able to see the blade coming down." I looked at his cock. It was swollen and twitching. He liked the idea.

I raised the blade.

"Ohhhhh," he said, moaning. His dick started shooting a wad of boycream.

"Happy Birthday, Reynolds," I quickly said, and swung the sword with all my might.

It was a clean cut. A momentary "whooosh" of the blade and then a clunk of the cutlery onto the log.

The kid's head went rolling off towards the camera, and ending facing it. His torso slumped, and several large salvos of blood shot from the neck. I stood looking at the scene, and dropped the blade. I unzipped my pants, pulled out my cock, and masturbated. It took me just five seconds to shoot, and a huge wad of my cum flew on the boy's chest.

I drug Reynolds' body into the grave and covered it with dirt. I packed my gear. I put his clothes in a separate bag, and went to pick up his head to place in another.

There was a pleasant surprise for me when I picked up the severed head; the boy's face had a peaceful look on it. His eyes were closed, like he was in a slumber, and his lips formed an angelic smile. It was a good birthday for him after all.

END

Hope you like my writings. Send any comments, or whatever messages you wish, to me at: johnboyinva@hotmail.com. If you have a birthday or other special occasion that you'd like to commemorate in a very unique way, drop me a line too. They don't call me the wish-maker for nothing.
 
hey! thanks for posting my story! i wrote this and several others a few years back - i will have to see if i can find those and post them --- my favorite was called 'the clipping' although i do have fond memory of reynolds in this story, espeically every time i put on the sweater
 
Thanks very much for an exciting story. A few words must have been lost in the Internet. John shot onto Reynolds' dead chest, but Reynolds had leaned forward and could only see shadows, so he wasn't killed while face up. John must have kicked the torso over onto its back in the missing sentence.
Next time, I would advise John to unzip and pull out his penis ahead of time. I'm sure he will get excited, this way the victim can see how much he likes what he's about to do. Also, there will be less chance of a good erection not lining up with the pants' fly, or shooting too soon from rubbing inside the clothing.
Some headsmen will even get naked after binding their victim, to avoid getting blood on their clothing. This could be from splashing, or from picking up the severed head.
 
You have a natural gift for this, and it is at its best in this story. Made me want to help. Gr8 jerkoff material!!!!!:horny::horny::horny::horny::drool:
 
really great story, perfect, one of the best ever, :stroke:
 
Excellent story, thanks John Boy, let's have some more please.

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I have often had a similar fantasy about getting my head chopped off by a friendly and compassionate executioner who is doing me a favor like that. Except that I'm in a situation where I would want to carry it out rather than face the consequences of living. When I was in junior high I'd imagine that I was caught doing something disgraceful and humiliating like sucking off a bunch of high school guys, but secretly videotaped and being blackmailed...I was doing criminal stuff and was being sent to a juvie work farm...no high school or college...so I'd imagine my gym coach agreeing to take me out to a field like Reynolds and chopping off my head...I dig my own grave as my hot young coach sharpens the broad sword to a razor sharp edge. As I dig and hear the blade being honed I'm SO relieved to be able to avoid the miserable work farm and experience the beheaing I'd been fantasizing since I was a young kid...no fear...just a hard dick. As I dig my grave I hear my studly coach sawing an edge off the tree stump but concentrate on digging my grave...it makes me hornier and hornier as I dig. He tells me it's deep enough and I see the curved edge...it's for my adams apple so when my neck is on the "chopping block" I'll be comfortable. Even a basket with a pillow: "You don't want to be knocked unconscious when your head lands, do you?" I realize that my head will be chopped off instantly, just like I'd always fantasized it would and I'd never even know I'm actually beheaded until my head is rolling in the basket! Off come my shoes and socks...the grass is so soft and refreshing under my sweaty feet, and I strip. I'd always been one of the guys that always liked stripping in the locker room, taking long showers with the other naked guys, taking as long as I could before dressing so show off my naked body knowing other guys are checking me out. And he knew that. I'm leaking as I see the friendly smile on his face. He knows how much I like sucking cock and strips down for me, his enormous cock throbbing. He tells me how much he needs to be sucked off so he'll be relaxed and focused when he lops off my head: he sits on the trunk and I kneel to take his cock past my lips. As his cock slides along my tongue I taste his precum and the familiar flavor of dick. He wraps his hands around my thick hair and gently follows my head and I take his fabulous cock deeper and deeper. I reach around to cup his muscular buns and feel them tense and relax as my mouth slides up and down his shaft: he can tell that even as young as I am I've been sucking cock even before I reached puberty and how much I've always enjoyed it. I'm sucking him off and reach the point where his pubes tickle my nostrils and I'm enjoying his cock in my mouth so much that I practically forget the best part: I'm about to get my head chopped off! His cock begins to twitch on my tongue and his ass cheeks begin to tense intensely and do not relax...I prepare to take his massive delicious load: I slide up to the sensitive skin just below his knob and suck it furiously. His palms tense around my hair and he cums in buckets and I gulp and drink his thick spunk. I'm edging and so close, but somehow I'm able to hold off! When he gets up he puts on only his Nikes so he'll be able to brace his weight as he swings the ax. He tells me to get my socks and sweatshirt and place them on the stump to buffer my uuper chest from the hard wood. He walks behind me and massages my buns and rests his chin on my shoulder: "Are you ready?" My cock is dripping pre and I'm so close, and I say "PLEASE!!" as if I'm begging him to fuck my asshole. He begins to tie my wrists behind my ass and then my feet and I tell him I don't want to run away! He explains that with my wrists and feet bound it will be easier for him to carry my headless torso to my grave. I glance at it and get even hornier. He carefully helps me kneel and then lovingly guides my head forward to position my neck on the block with my prominent adams apple in the groove. Looking into the basket I imagine how coach will chop off my head just above my shoulders and how fast my head will drop onto the soft pillow. I've seen guillotine scenes in movies and always been amazed how fast the head falls, and I know my head will already be in the basket when I hear the concussion of the blade hitting the block! I'm so eager! The I feel coach spreading my ass and his warm moist tongue slide in and out of my tight asshole. It feels so amazing and hot, and I realize for the first time that he's absolutely as gay as I am as he fucks my asshole with his eager moist tongue. He feels my prostate begin to twitch and withdraws his tongue. Now I also realize that my head won't be the first that he's chopped off for some eager lucky kid! He comes around and picks up the mighty sword and positions it on my neck. I can see his shadow next to the basket and my eyes dart back and forth. He lifts the blade and slowly positions the razor on the back of my neck again, in the same precise place...I'm reaching the point of no return! I see his shadow raise the broad ax high above his mighty shoulders and I explode! The ax come down with incredible speed and I see my own head drop into the basket: the incredible momentum of the chop makes my head bounce and roll even with my long neck still attached, and I'm in orgasm! My orgasm doesn't subside but remains intense, I guess the nerve signals from my balls that signal the end of cumming can't reach my brain and the pleasure centers just continue to fire! All of my hyperventilating in the moments of holding back have made my brain rich with oxygen...coach picks up my severed head by my thick hair and I see my headless torso convulsing: my back is still arched and my ass cheeks still tight and my toes are curled, but my arms and legs are fighting my bound hands and feet and my shoulders are twitching wildly...my body spams without coordination from my brain! With his other massive hand coach lifts the ax from the stump and my neck shoots blood like water from a power hose, and I'm still in orgasm! My torso begins to relax and collapses and I begin to fade. I drift off to a peaceful sleep just like every other time I jerked off feverishly in bed and then fell sound asleep...my dream came true!
 
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