postmortem
Forum Regular
- Joined
- Oct 6, 2015
- Messages
- 119
- Location
- USA
You spoke over the film again, and I hit the "pause" on the remote.
"What?" I say, turning to you in my rotating chair.
"You've been working out", you say from the adjacent chair.
That look in your eyes, focused on my chest area. Oh jeez.
"This is a tight shirt" you add.
I look down and see the two sharp dots in the middle of the pec protrusions on my chest.
"Uh... I think you really need a boyfriend" I say.
"Nah, I'm okay", you say, moving your gaze down my body. "I just want to fuck you."
"You know this kinda shit creeps me out, right?", I say with annoyance in my voice. "Why can't you just be the cool gay roommate? You seemed so normal when I interviewed you. Jesus."
I consider the matter closed, and unpause the film. The firefight on the screen resumes.
Is that a hand squeezing my bicep? Oh for fucks sake. I get up and push you flying back into your chair.
"Hey!" you yell. "Come on, don't you want me to suck them? Suck you off?"
"No" I said. "You know, I wanted to be polite with you, but that kind of shit repulses me. I am just not wired that way. Go on a dating site and find yourself someone. Do I try to make you kiss a girl? You really need to get over this obsession with me, it's not funny anymore."
"Oh"... you pout. "It's not funny anymore, huh." You storm out of the room.
I feel bad... but just for a moment. I reach for popcorn, watching robots fight aliens or something, and put it in my mouth. Oh wait, I think I need to pee...
I get up from the chair, and you appear in the doorway. You have a strange expression in your eyes. Kind of guilty, and you avoid looking straight at me. One of your hands is behind your back.
"You know", you say. "I wanted to touch you so bad for the past 2 years."
"I don't need to hear that. Listen-"
"I wanted to know what your skin feels like..." you say with odd wistfulness, still looking past me.
"Ok, that does it", I say. "Enough of your CRAZY TIME, I am moving out. Tomorrow morning, OK?"
"To suck your-"
I put my hand on your mouth. "Shh. How about I get you some coffee?"
You step back, and point a gun at me.
Taken aback for a moment, I then laugh. "Where did you get the-"
There's a bright flash and a loud pop, and I feel a punch in the stomach where the fabric of my shirt explodes out in a bubble of torn threads.
You are looking straight at me now, watching me fall back into my chair. For some reason, the only profound thought I have, is that I really need to pee.
"I want you, and I will have you", you say, your voice shaking as much as your gun.
I realize, this is it. It hits me, that all you want is to kill me. Just cold hatred, channeled into the dark gun muzzle pointed at me, about to end my life.
You look into my wide open eyes, and fire off 3 more shots without even looking down. You are savoring the lost expression on my face as my body is thrown about with every puff of red mist that flies out of the torn fabric on my stomach and chest. BAM. BAM. BAM.
So that's how it feels to be shot, I think, strangely distanced from all this. This hot metal burrowing into my body... few people get to feel it... I'm one of the special few... Oh, your eyes glisten with joy. I feel an odd sense of relief, as we are joined in the intensity of this moment.
But wait... I must survive! I have to go to the gym, and buy some Chinese food! I'm so hungry! And I was going to meet this girl later!
Hit by a wave of adrenaline, I jump up, but three more shots at point blank range - POP, POP, POP - throw me back and pacify me, pushing me into the chair, making us one and the same.
My arms fall off the sides of the chair. My knees fall toward each other, meeting in the middle, with legs bent awkwardly inward. Without support, my body slides down the chair, with my arms swinging lifelessly at the sides. My now-dumb gaze is staring somewhere past you. My jaw falls open, as if expressing surprise, and popcorn falls out from between my parted lips.
You watch a dark stain spread in the crotch of my jeans.
There is no more me, just you and this body in the room, no more alive than the chair it is awkwardly sliding off of.
You kneel near my still form, and cautiously touch my body's knee. You look at my face, the expression on which is indifferent. You move your hand up my jeans, to my hip, watching for reaction, and there isn't any.
The body is still.
You cautiously put your fingers in my mouth and pull out the few bits of popcorn. Then you lean over, close your eyes, and passionately kiss my lips, like you've always wanted to.
You feel them yield to yours, and can't believe this is real. This was so easy. Still touching my lips with yours, you open your eyes, looking straight into mine, expecting me to call you a bitch and push you off, but nothing - nothing happens.
"Huh", you say. "Not so straight now, are ya?"
You bring some scissors, and cut off the urine-soaked jeans, my tight black underwear, and my bullet-riddled shirt.
You lean on my body, and some blood leaks from a bullet hole. No, that won't do. You bring a soldering iron, and dip it into all the bullet holes, one by one, cauterizing each one with a "Psst" noise and a smoke of burning flesh.
You get up and admire the naked body in front of you, lying in awkwardly submissive position, naked. You part my knees, watching my legs fall apart. My body slides off the chair further, and my butt thuds onto the hard floor, the body sprawls on the floor, and the chair rolls back. My bent knees hit the floor on opposite sides, shamelessly open.
You stand over my bullet-riddled body and look at my shaft, strangely erect. Did the shooting turn me on?
How humiliating it must be for me, you think, to be stripped like this. By you. This contrast between what I would've done if I was alive, and seeing me now, helpless and open, turns you on.
You don't really understand that I don't exist anymore, because to you, me and my body are the same thing. You've had feelings for me, and now you want to express them to my body, not seeing the difference. The bullets made me submit to you, for some reason, and you are thankful to them for that.
You kneel near my form and draw your finger from one bullet hole on my stomach, to another, feeling my skin.
My stomach and chest are not moving. So still and quiet now.
You lean down and your lips trace around my chest, which is relaxed, but you feel the idle resistance of muscle as your lips press into it. You lick around a bullet hole to the left of my nipple. The hole through which the metal entered this body, to pacify it and make it yours.
You take my nipple into your mouth, and it feels firm. You suck on it, long and hard, and bite it, chew it, take my dick with your hand while doing it, and my body just lays there, still. Non-reactive. My eyes staring calmly at the ceiling.
You look at my indifferent face, with mouth open, and pull out your hardon and insert it into my still warm mouth. You don't even need to move, the warmth turns you on so much. Is this even real?
You grab my body by the hip and roughly flop it over. My erect penis bends against the floor, my ankles cross, an arm shoots outward and clanks on the floor awkwardly, with my face against the floor, the nose squished. But who cares? There are no complaints from the body.
You admire the smooth, calming form of my ass. It looks better than you thought. You put your hands on it, squeeze it, and play with it - and it feels like just the right balance of firm and soft. You're in heaven.
You squeeze it and squeeze it, and bury your face in it. It feels peaceful.
Even though all my muscles are relaxed - forever - you notice the lean muscular lines in my legs, and run your hand over them.
This body is just your type. Not all musclebound, but enough work put into it to be pleasant to squeeze.
You grab my hip and turn my body on the side, squeeze my pec, and wonder if I ever knew, that all my gym visits were going to serve just one purpose - to please you, for this evening. Only.
_______
1 HOUR PASSES
_______
You are flipping the channels on the sofa, with a pizza box on your knees. My naked body, with darkened holes in it, is sitting awkwardly next to you, leaning against your shoulder, with white cum leaking from the corner of my parted lips. My eyes stare seemingly at the TV, but the only thing that moves is the TV's reflection in them.
"You want some Coke?" you ask. You open a bottle, insert it into my open mouth, and raise it, watching the black liquid in the bottle lower and eventually disappear. The bottle is now empty.
"Oh shit" you say, noticing that Coke is now leaking from a hole in my stomach. You jump off the couch, and my body falls awkwardly into where you sat. You cover the hole with thick duct tape. "That oughta do it."
"Hey", you say. "You messed with my TV time!" You pull my arm until my body rolls and falls off the couch onto the floor, limbs thudding against it, face down, my nose smashes against the floor, without any attempt to cushion the fall.
"Boy you are so fucking dead", you laugh.
With one of my legs straight, another bent outward, you catch yourself admiring the soft lines of my ass once again.
__________
2 HOURS PASS
__________
You wake up in the bathtub in the middle of the night. The soapy water is still warm.
You open your eyes and see my body, legs parted, kneeling on your erection, awkwardly propped against a wall, with my head turned to the side and down toward at the tiles. Staring at nothing.
Oh yeah, it took a lot of energy to set this up, and then you got tired and just dozed off, huh.
You put your hands on my hips, and then lower, squeezing my ass.
Such an unbelievable thing. An erotic sight from your dreams. Something you would've never imagined just a few hours ago - the straight roommate you've always lusted for, now your pliant sex toy, agreeable to anything and everything for you to do with him.
You reach down and feel that my erection is gone. But yours is raging again - pushing deep inside the dead body sitting on it.
You realize you had this erection for a while, and it's not going to let you sleep. But you're too tired to move the body back and forth again.
You reach for your gun, and start shooting my torso at random. With every POP, every bullet I absorb so submissively, you feel my body softly jerking around your shaft, while watching my skin ripple around each blue-ish opening that you create in me. It feels so powerful to shoot another person. Who is so nice as to absorb these deadly bullets for you, and transfer their energy into being your personal vibrator. BAM. BAM. BAM. It only takes 10 shots until you come.
The bathtub is now a mix of blood, soap, cum and Coca-Cola.
You slide from under my body, and get up. My knees slide across the tub toward you, my torso sinks down, my head hits the edge of the tub with a thud, and then my body floats in this mess of the water, with my head sinking underwater.
My eyes stare at the ceiling through the floaty muck, as a few big bubbles come out from my wide open mouth.
You drain the tub, watching my body sink down, until it lies with one leg bent under it - the other bent leg leans against the tub wall. My arms tangled somewhere underneath my back.
Then you wash yourself, and spray my corpse with water, watching the stream split around my nipples, and then, lower, watching it throw my junk around.
You leave my perforated body in the tub, and step out.
You realize that despite having 17 bullet holes spread all over my body, the shape of it still lures you in. Those holes... they are just assurance that I will never get up and object to anything you do. You find them comforting.
You always liked my face, and stare for a bit at my expression of dreamy indifference. You still have a crush on me, it hits you. You feel a small tinge of envy, looking into my big, open eyes. There's something to being dead, you think - worrying about nothing, being open to anything. "What a slut" you say aloud, your gaze shifting to my carelessly open legs.
You empty several bags of ice into the tub, until my body is completely buried under them.
"Don't you go anywhere!" you say, shutting the bathroom door. "We'll have a quickie in the morning! Before you move out!"
You go to bed and fall asleep easily.
"What?" I say, turning to you in my rotating chair.
"You've been working out", you say from the adjacent chair.
That look in your eyes, focused on my chest area. Oh jeez.
"This is a tight shirt" you add.
I look down and see the two sharp dots in the middle of the pec protrusions on my chest.
"Uh... I think you really need a boyfriend" I say.
"Nah, I'm okay", you say, moving your gaze down my body. "I just want to fuck you."
"You know this kinda shit creeps me out, right?", I say with annoyance in my voice. "Why can't you just be the cool gay roommate? You seemed so normal when I interviewed you. Jesus."
I consider the matter closed, and unpause the film. The firefight on the screen resumes.
Is that a hand squeezing my bicep? Oh for fucks sake. I get up and push you flying back into your chair.
"Hey!" you yell. "Come on, don't you want me to suck them? Suck you off?"
"No" I said. "You know, I wanted to be polite with you, but that kind of shit repulses me. I am just not wired that way. Go on a dating site and find yourself someone. Do I try to make you kiss a girl? You really need to get over this obsession with me, it's not funny anymore."
"Oh"... you pout. "It's not funny anymore, huh." You storm out of the room.
I feel bad... but just for a moment. I reach for popcorn, watching robots fight aliens or something, and put it in my mouth. Oh wait, I think I need to pee...
I get up from the chair, and you appear in the doorway. You have a strange expression in your eyes. Kind of guilty, and you avoid looking straight at me. One of your hands is behind your back.
"You know", you say. "I wanted to touch you so bad for the past 2 years."
"I don't need to hear that. Listen-"
"I wanted to know what your skin feels like..." you say with odd wistfulness, still looking past me.
"Ok, that does it", I say. "Enough of your CRAZY TIME, I am moving out. Tomorrow morning, OK?"
"To suck your-"
I put my hand on your mouth. "Shh. How about I get you some coffee?"
You step back, and point a gun at me.
Taken aback for a moment, I then laugh. "Where did you get the-"
There's a bright flash and a loud pop, and I feel a punch in the stomach where the fabric of my shirt explodes out in a bubble of torn threads.
You are looking straight at me now, watching me fall back into my chair. For some reason, the only profound thought I have, is that I really need to pee.
"I want you, and I will have you", you say, your voice shaking as much as your gun.
I realize, this is it. It hits me, that all you want is to kill me. Just cold hatred, channeled into the dark gun muzzle pointed at me, about to end my life.
You look into my wide open eyes, and fire off 3 more shots without even looking down. You are savoring the lost expression on my face as my body is thrown about with every puff of red mist that flies out of the torn fabric on my stomach and chest. BAM. BAM. BAM.
So that's how it feels to be shot, I think, strangely distanced from all this. This hot metal burrowing into my body... few people get to feel it... I'm one of the special few... Oh, your eyes glisten with joy. I feel an odd sense of relief, as we are joined in the intensity of this moment.
But wait... I must survive! I have to go to the gym, and buy some Chinese food! I'm so hungry! And I was going to meet this girl later!
Hit by a wave of adrenaline, I jump up, but three more shots at point blank range - POP, POP, POP - throw me back and pacify me, pushing me into the chair, making us one and the same.
My arms fall off the sides of the chair. My knees fall toward each other, meeting in the middle, with legs bent awkwardly inward. Without support, my body slides down the chair, with my arms swinging lifelessly at the sides. My now-dumb gaze is staring somewhere past you. My jaw falls open, as if expressing surprise, and popcorn falls out from between my parted lips.
You watch a dark stain spread in the crotch of my jeans.
There is no more me, just you and this body in the room, no more alive than the chair it is awkwardly sliding off of.
You kneel near my still form, and cautiously touch my body's knee. You look at my face, the expression on which is indifferent. You move your hand up my jeans, to my hip, watching for reaction, and there isn't any.
The body is still.
You cautiously put your fingers in my mouth and pull out the few bits of popcorn. Then you lean over, close your eyes, and passionately kiss my lips, like you've always wanted to.
You feel them yield to yours, and can't believe this is real. This was so easy. Still touching my lips with yours, you open your eyes, looking straight into mine, expecting me to call you a bitch and push you off, but nothing - nothing happens.
"Huh", you say. "Not so straight now, are ya?"
You bring some scissors, and cut off the urine-soaked jeans, my tight black underwear, and my bullet-riddled shirt.
You lean on my body, and some blood leaks from a bullet hole. No, that won't do. You bring a soldering iron, and dip it into all the bullet holes, one by one, cauterizing each one with a "Psst" noise and a smoke of burning flesh.
You get up and admire the naked body in front of you, lying in awkwardly submissive position, naked. You part my knees, watching my legs fall apart. My body slides off the chair further, and my butt thuds onto the hard floor, the body sprawls on the floor, and the chair rolls back. My bent knees hit the floor on opposite sides, shamelessly open.
You stand over my bullet-riddled body and look at my shaft, strangely erect. Did the shooting turn me on?
How humiliating it must be for me, you think, to be stripped like this. By you. This contrast between what I would've done if I was alive, and seeing me now, helpless and open, turns you on.
You don't really understand that I don't exist anymore, because to you, me and my body are the same thing. You've had feelings for me, and now you want to express them to my body, not seeing the difference. The bullets made me submit to you, for some reason, and you are thankful to them for that.
You kneel near my form and draw your finger from one bullet hole on my stomach, to another, feeling my skin.
My stomach and chest are not moving. So still and quiet now.
You lean down and your lips trace around my chest, which is relaxed, but you feel the idle resistance of muscle as your lips press into it. You lick around a bullet hole to the left of my nipple. The hole through which the metal entered this body, to pacify it and make it yours.
You take my nipple into your mouth, and it feels firm. You suck on it, long and hard, and bite it, chew it, take my dick with your hand while doing it, and my body just lays there, still. Non-reactive. My eyes staring calmly at the ceiling.
You look at my indifferent face, with mouth open, and pull out your hardon and insert it into my still warm mouth. You don't even need to move, the warmth turns you on so much. Is this even real?
You grab my body by the hip and roughly flop it over. My erect penis bends against the floor, my ankles cross, an arm shoots outward and clanks on the floor awkwardly, with my face against the floor, the nose squished. But who cares? There are no complaints from the body.
You admire the smooth, calming form of my ass. It looks better than you thought. You put your hands on it, squeeze it, and play with it - and it feels like just the right balance of firm and soft. You're in heaven.
You squeeze it and squeeze it, and bury your face in it. It feels peaceful.
Even though all my muscles are relaxed - forever - you notice the lean muscular lines in my legs, and run your hand over them.
This body is just your type. Not all musclebound, but enough work put into it to be pleasant to squeeze.
You grab my hip and turn my body on the side, squeeze my pec, and wonder if I ever knew, that all my gym visits were going to serve just one purpose - to please you, for this evening. Only.
_______
1 HOUR PASSES
_______
You are flipping the channels on the sofa, with a pizza box on your knees. My naked body, with darkened holes in it, is sitting awkwardly next to you, leaning against your shoulder, with white cum leaking from the corner of my parted lips. My eyes stare seemingly at the TV, but the only thing that moves is the TV's reflection in them.
"You want some Coke?" you ask. You open a bottle, insert it into my open mouth, and raise it, watching the black liquid in the bottle lower and eventually disappear. The bottle is now empty.
"Oh shit" you say, noticing that Coke is now leaking from a hole in my stomach. You jump off the couch, and my body falls awkwardly into where you sat. You cover the hole with thick duct tape. "That oughta do it."
"Hey", you say. "You messed with my TV time!" You pull my arm until my body rolls and falls off the couch onto the floor, limbs thudding against it, face down, my nose smashes against the floor, without any attempt to cushion the fall.
"Boy you are so fucking dead", you laugh.
With one of my legs straight, another bent outward, you catch yourself admiring the soft lines of my ass once again.
__________
2 HOURS PASS
__________
You wake up in the bathtub in the middle of the night. The soapy water is still warm.
You open your eyes and see my body, legs parted, kneeling on your erection, awkwardly propped against a wall, with my head turned to the side and down toward at the tiles. Staring at nothing.
Oh yeah, it took a lot of energy to set this up, and then you got tired and just dozed off, huh.
You put your hands on my hips, and then lower, squeezing my ass.
Such an unbelievable thing. An erotic sight from your dreams. Something you would've never imagined just a few hours ago - the straight roommate you've always lusted for, now your pliant sex toy, agreeable to anything and everything for you to do with him.
You reach down and feel that my erection is gone. But yours is raging again - pushing deep inside the dead body sitting on it.
You realize you had this erection for a while, and it's not going to let you sleep. But you're too tired to move the body back and forth again.
You reach for your gun, and start shooting my torso at random. With every POP, every bullet I absorb so submissively, you feel my body softly jerking around your shaft, while watching my skin ripple around each blue-ish opening that you create in me. It feels so powerful to shoot another person. Who is so nice as to absorb these deadly bullets for you, and transfer their energy into being your personal vibrator. BAM. BAM. BAM. It only takes 10 shots until you come.
The bathtub is now a mix of blood, soap, cum and Coca-Cola.
You slide from under my body, and get up. My knees slide across the tub toward you, my torso sinks down, my head hits the edge of the tub with a thud, and then my body floats in this mess of the water, with my head sinking underwater.
My eyes stare at the ceiling through the floaty muck, as a few big bubbles come out from my wide open mouth.
You drain the tub, watching my body sink down, until it lies with one leg bent under it - the other bent leg leans against the tub wall. My arms tangled somewhere underneath my back.
Then you wash yourself, and spray my corpse with water, watching the stream split around my nipples, and then, lower, watching it throw my junk around.
You leave my perforated body in the tub, and step out.
You realize that despite having 17 bullet holes spread all over my body, the shape of it still lures you in. Those holes... they are just assurance that I will never get up and object to anything you do. You find them comforting.
You always liked my face, and stare for a bit at my expression of dreamy indifference. You still have a crush on me, it hits you. You feel a small tinge of envy, looking into my big, open eyes. There's something to being dead, you think - worrying about nothing, being open to anything. "What a slut" you say aloud, your gaze shifting to my carelessly open legs.
You empty several bags of ice into the tub, until my body is completely buried under them.
"Don't you go anywhere!" you say, shutting the bathroom door. "We'll have a quickie in the morning! Before you move out!"
You go to bed and fall asleep easily.
