Prologue:  A story of a savage sadistic and masochistic assisted
suicide/murder.  Every nuance and minute detail is laid out in a
carefully written contract for two deviant men to brutally murder and
dismember an equally deviant volunteer bent on a horrific and painful
death.  Unable to carry out a suitably spectacular suicide himself,
John turns to the dark corners of the gay bdsm world for help.  The
entire episode will be filmed in the best tradition of snuff.


    How does one find a psychopath killer these days.  Well, that has
been my quest for the past few months.  You see, I want to commit
suicide.  I believe once you have made the decision that death is
preferable to life, than it's just a matter of where, when and how. 
The when is determined by how and where you want to die.  For me, the
where is a place away from others, except for my helpers.  We
certainly don't want to be disturbed.  Some people choose public
suicide, but that is too chancy. Someone might stop you.  Its the
method that drives me.

    I know most people simply swallow some pills and go to sleep. 
That is boring.  Others might stick a gun to their head and pull the
trigger or hang themselves.  Also, too damn boring and quick.  I
believe suicide should be a wholly incredible, erotic and spectacular
event to be joyously revered and give the world something to talk
about.  It should serve a purpose.  It's all a matter of taste.  I
just don't want to fall asleep and have it end.  There is nothing to
experience with quick death.  I want to feel my body die.  Now I don't
suggest pain for pains sake.  I talked to one man on the net who
wanted to be burned at the stake.  I don't relish that agony.  I want
to be awake and conscious throughout the event to feel, see and excuse
me for saying, enjoy my death.  Of all the methods i've studied,
stabbing seems to be the most interesting method.  I don't mean a
quick jab of the heart, but a progressive ramp up of severity and
lethality with larger and larger knives and multiple/dozens of stab
wounds, until i'm dead or ready for a final planned death blow.  This
appears to be far less painful than a gunshot to the gut where your
insides are shredded and you black out.

    The most incredible feeling comes over you when you have accepted
death.  You are free to plan everything and can relax.  I don't want a
lot of pain, nor do I want to blow away with a breeze or whisper.  I
would not, under normal circumstances, want to have a knife plunged
into my body for fear of internal damage and long term pain and
suffering.  After you accept your own imminent death, the fear goes
away.  So what if i'm stabbed in the lungs or abdomen when I know i'll
be dead in a few hours anyway.  I can look forward to the experience
and enjoy the feeling and visuals of watching someone stab me
repeatedly until I'm ready for a well choreographed heart wound.

    It is for this reason, that I have been searching for a man or
woman to take my life in a bazaar and wonderfully horrific manner. 
After talking to many like minded souls on the net, I have come to the
conclusion that finding the right woman is out.  I need someone, maybe
even two people with strength and a high threshold for violence with a
sadistic nature.

    I began to search the gay bdsm personals for some of the more
fringe clubs and weirdoes.  There are some really sick fucks in this
world and I wanted to find one who would do what I wanted before,
during and after my death.  After posing as a gay man and meeting some
absolutely wild people, I came upon a news group that existed only on
one free server from California. It was for suicidal gay men and
showed stills from some gay snuff films.  This was right up my ally.

    I don't know why gay men are into the more dangerous erotic horror
images and high risk practices, but I'm glad that such people exist. 
I needed someone who could be trained in and be depended upon to carry
out my requests.  I flew out to San Fran and met up with some contacts
who would in turn point me in the right direction for what I craved
and needed so badly.  At around 11 PM I was met by a man called only
J.  He took me in a cab to a high risk area of the city where few
people went at night.  We walked down an alley and knocked on a door. 
After handing someone $50, we went inside and I was amazed at the
scene.  There were men in every deviant sexual position possible and
the smell of sex was thick.  As we walked into the room, I noticed
someone tied to a table in the center of the room.  He was very pale
and motionless.  There were two knives stuck in his abdomen and some
blood was leaking out around them.


    He suddenly opened his eyes and smiled at me.  This party was for
him.  He had decided to exit this life and wanted a slow painful and
glorious party where his friends would fulfill his ultimate desire. 
As each person climaxed, they would take a two inch knife and plunge
it into his torso.  There was a small patch over his heart.  The only
rule was to avoid the heart and nothing above the chest.  He didn't
want to take the chance on having a major artery cut.  His cock was
hard and as I heard someone else cum, he smiled even more.  He knew
another knife was on its way.


    A naked man came over and with his cock still dripping, took a
knife from the bucket on the floor and plunged it into our hero just
above the navel.  Sub, as he liked to be called, just winced and
grinned as the knife pierced his body.  He was in joyous pain.  I
counted nearly 25 men in the room.  That meant 25 knives.  I noticed
one very large thick bladed knife on the table and asked what it was
for.  The facilitator said that if Sub wasn't dead within an hour of
taking the final knife, that he wanted to be decapitated to end it. 
He wanted pain, but not needless suffering.  I asked who was to do
that final deed.  It was the next person in the order of death.  This
protected everyone from legal trouble.


    I loved this group and knew I had found my new world.  If I
couldn't find someone here, I couldn't find them anywhere. The gay
bdsm scene is bold and erotic and easily surpasses any group I've ever
known.  I met some great guys and had some nice private conversations
about my own wishes for a glorious death.  They all had some wild
ideas, some I hadn't even thought of as yet.  I was on my way and able
to go ahead with some real planning for my exit.  All I needed was to
find one or two people I could trust to help me die.

    My death was to be in three stages:  A slow gradual ramp up of
pain, with decreasing quantity, but increasing lethality of attacks on
my body in the hours leading up to the last beat of my heart.  I
wanted a final death movement, should I survive the ramp up phase, and
finally, the desecration of my body in the most horrible manner
imaginable.  The two guys that impressed me the most with their
honesty and deviant manner were Buck and Dog.  Buck had killed before,
but his manner was calm.  He was intrigued by my ideas and seemed
aroused at the thought of helping me. I gave them the draft of my
plans and it made them so hot that buck openly fondled himself as he
read the words.  They were hot for my death and itching to learn more.
 I asked them about the legalities of what I was asking them to do and
they didn't care.  I had forgotten that they were scheduled to die
themselves in a few months as part of the club.

    I flew back to Seattle and we emailed each other for the next  few
weeks and talked on the phone.  It was now late July and I wanted to
die by the end of August.  We made plans for the day, a Saturday
evening, August _____.  I spent the next few weeks writing out the
minute details of my death and the implements that would kill me.  I
called it the "Death Kit".  When Buck heard the name, he just laughed.
 Just writing the draft of my death contract was like painting a fine
picture or sculpting a beautiful statue.

My best friend Bob used to be a lawyer until he got disbarred and he
helped me write up a contract for me to sign and Buck and Dog to read
and learn.

It read as follow:  

In order for payment to be made in full, both of you agree to carry
out my instructions to the letter.  My death should be broken down
into six steps at the most unless I become unconscious and cannot be
revived by all reasonable means.  At which point you both will move on
to Step 5.

Inventory the death kit and complete all preliminary procedures before
proceeding to step 1:  At about 7:30 PM on Saturday, August _____,
strap my nude body tightly to the bed with cuffs for my ankles, wrists
and two straps for my torso and place two pillows under my head. 
SPECIAL NOTE:  Once I am tied up, or at any other time during the
remainder of my life, if I attempt to change my mind or beg you to
stop, ignore all of my pleas no matter what I say or do.  You will not
be paid unless the contract is fulfilled.

The death kit will contain a large and small plate, 1 very sharp
butcher knife, 2 each masks, 2 each painters coveralls with shoes, 1
pair of pruning shears, 2 each  1.5 in. knives, 2 each 4 in. ice pics,
2 each 6 in. Bowie knives, 1 each 2 ft double edge sword 1 pack of
smelling salts, and 2 very sharp meat cleavers..  The video camera
mounted in the upper north corner of the room must be tested with a
new blank tape before proceeding to step 1.  Place the large and small
plates from the death kit on the bedside table with the butcher knife.
After all preliminary steps have been completed, just before 8:00 PM,
put on the masks and coveralls and turn on the camera.

If all is in order, ask me if I am ready.  When I give you the go
ahead, proceed with step 1.

Step 1:  Each of you take one of the 1.5 in. knives.  I will have
drawn a circle around the area of my heart.  This is off limits.  The
other off limits areas are my genitals, my neck and anything above it.
 All other areas of my body are free game.  Each of you will stab me
25 times in any game area.  Use the entire game area.  Do not slice or
make glancing cuts, just a simple thrust into my body.  You will have
an hour.  If I should lose consciousness, use the smelling salts. 
Step one should not cause death.  If I do expire during step one, and
please make sure I am dead, then skip to step 5.  After I have
received 50 stab wounds, proceed to step 2.


Step 2:  Each of you grab one of the 4 in. ice picks.  The same rules
apply for off limits areas and game areas.  Stab my body 15 times each
just as you did in step one.  There is a small chance that step 2 may
cause death before I anticipated.  I may lose consciousness.  I will
probably be bleeding both internally and externally at a good clip by
the end of step 2. Use the smelling salts if needed. Again, only if my
heart has stopped, proceed to step 5.  Use quick thrusts as you stab
my body, but take it slow in using up your 15 attacks. Use variety and
enjoy.  You will have one hour.

Step 3.  Each of you take hold of  one of the 6 in. Bowie knives. 
Examine their sharp edges and sure grip handles.  I bought these
specially for what you are about to do.  All game and off limits rules
apply as do the rules on death and loss of consciousness.  You will
each be allowed one savage and powerful thrust into my body.  This is
the part I want to enjoy and watch your faces as you make preparations
and get the mindset to stab me.  Chose your targets carefully.  Build
your hate and animal desire for pain and blood.  You will need it for
Step 6.
   
    One at a time, hold the knife with both hands and slam it into my
right chest or abdomen.  Feel the ribs shatter. Thrust deeply to the
handle.  Leave it in place until step 5 is complete.  Pull it out
quickly, then trade off.  Watch my face as you stab me.  Is it joy,
pain or death?  I want it all. Make them count.  You will have 30
minutes.  I may very well die from these blows.  You know the rules by
now.  If I am still alive, give me a full dose of smelling salts.

Step 4.  This step begins the death phase.  All of your work has led
up to this one final event.  After step 4, I will be dead.  After
completing step 5, I will simply be a corpse for your animal savage
fury.  One of you take the 2 ft sword and show it to me.  Let me gaze
upon its length and beauty.  I have drawn a small circle in a spot
between my ribs over my heart.  Wipe away any blood so that you can
find it. Place the point of the sword there and pierce the skin gently
so that it won't slip when you carry out your duty.  Don't worry, I
won't feel any more pain.  Give me one more dose of smelling salts.  I
want to be totally lucid and awake for this final attack on my body. 
After a total of 82 various stab wounds, I will be ready to die.  It
would only be a matter of time before I bled to death anyway.  Take a
strong hold on the sword with both hands and ask for my final words if
I can speak at all by then.  Make sure the camera can view this scene.
 Prepare your weight over the sword and with one powerful thrust, ram
it into and through my chest and out my back if you have the strength.
 I pray you do.

If my planning was right, you will have pierced my heart, mortally
wounding me.  If I don't die instantly, It won't take long for my
heart to stop.  Once I am dead, pull out the sword and pick up the
butcher knife.  It is time for step 5.

Step 5.  Take the butcher knife and cut around my neck until only the
bone is  holding my head to my torso.  Pick up a meat cleaver and
carefully hack through my neck vertebrae until my head falls free. 
Pick up my head and place it on the larger plate.  Using the butcher
knife again, carefully cut away my genitals, scrotum and all.  Place
them on the smaller plate. Take the two plates and place them in the
refrigerator for preservation.  It is my head and genitals that made
me, me.  Use the pruning shears to cut the last joint of each finger
and thumb from my hands and flush all ten down the toilet.  This will
make it almost impossible to identify me.  I'm sure they won't show
the picture of my face on the TV or in the papers.  What you see
before you is a anonymous corpse; decapitated and useless.  You must
prepare yourselves for step 6.

Step 6.  Untie my wrists, ankles and torso.  My flesh and bone must be
unrecognizable as human after you have completed this final step for
your payment.  Each of you pick up one of the meat cleavers and one at
a time, hack apart my body.  With my head and genitals removed, my
whole body is game so don't worry about missing or glancing blows or
anything else.  Rip my corpse to shreds as you tear me apart with
anger and lust for blood.  After my legs and arms have been hacked
free, throw them into the pile of crushed bone and mutilated flesh and
mangle any remaining resemblance of a man.  Scream as you cut my body
to pieces.  When there is nothing left that you recognize, you are
done.

Turn off the tape.  Place it in the self addressed stamped folder and
mail it to my partner.  Strip off your  overalls, mask and shoes and
place them in a plastic garbage bag and  bury them later when you are
miles from the house.   If you have been successful, and I trust you
both with my death, the room will be awash in blood, touching every
wall and even the ceiling.  Gaze upon the pile of scraps that was once
a living man and be proud of your work. Bob will transfer the money to
your account once he has viewed the tape and determined that you have
followed my wishes to the best of your ability.

    I thank you in advance for making my death as wonderful as I could
have ever dreamed and I pray you will get the chance to die an equally
glorious death someday.

   It was now Wednesday.  After making final edits to the contract, I
began to put together my death kit with a few knives at a local pawn
shop that seemed to fit my needs.  I found two incredibly sharp meat
cleavers also.  I got an erection just seeing these death implements
laid out on the white sheets of my bed where i would die in 72 hours..
 It was the four poster type with huge wood poles at each corner.  I
bought rope and fur lined cuffs to immobilize my body. One for each
wrist, one for each ankle, one for my hips and one under my arms and
over my chest.  I wanted to be a complete slave and helpless.

      As Thursday, August ____ approached, I began to feel so alive. 
I couldn't sleep and began to masturbate endlessly and think about
being used by these two gay psychos and later being murdered by them. 
I don't think I've ever been so hot and lusty in my life.  I had
deliberately scheduled them to arrive two days early so we could go
over the final plans and enjoy some time together.  I wanted them to
know me and take ownership of my death and not just think of it as a
job.

    I picked them up at the airport and made the long drive to my
cabin in the cascades.  I had rented it for a month under a fake name
and with cash.  I moved some of my furniture in like the bed and my
death tools, etc.  It was cozy and at least a mile from anyone else. 
If I screamed, no one would interfere.  We relaxed and drank some beer
and quickly got naked. Buck brought some snuff films and we began to
watch and enjoy the videos and each other.  I had never had gay sex,
but watching these films was so erotic that I had to enjoy my first
hot hard cock. I wanted to complete my life having tried some new
things before the end.  I decided that when Buck and Dog arrived on
the Thursday before, I would enjoy some rough gay sex with them.  This
was their idea as much as mine.  They said I should enjoy the best of
sex before I left this world.  So, I had one more thing to look
forward to as my death approached.   I kneeled at Bucks feet and
slowly devoured his cock.  It was glorious.  How had I gone so long
and not tried this.  I enjoy women, but this pulsing cock in my mouth
was overpowering.  He grabbed my head and shot a huge load into my
mouth choking me a bit.  I eagerly swallowed every drop and moved over
to Dog.

    The night was filled with every kind of sex imaginable and then
some.  We got on my death bed and had our way with each others bodies.
 I enjoyed theirs just as they would soon enjoy mine in a very
different way than anyone could believe.  If they followed my
directions, they would spill every last drop of my blood and split my
body into many unrecognizable parts.  I was looking for the slaughter
house  motif where only scraps littered the floor and the bed.

    Is everyone beginning to get the picture?  Do you understand what
I'm talking about?  After my death, my instructions stated that aside
from my head and genitals, there should not be any part of my body
larger than a closed fist left intact.  If everything went as planned,
the beautiful white sheets would be totally blood red and the floor
around the bed would be strewn with dismembered flesh and bone.  The
walls should be splattered as well as the ceiling.  I begged Buck to
be as viciously violent and hateful toward my dead body as was
inhumanly possible.  I couldn't have stressed that enough.  Once my
heart stopped and I lost consciousness, they should become animals.

    My best friend Bob, was to deposit a huge some of money in both
Bucks and Dogs account after my death.  To prevent them from simply
killing me for the money, my wishes had to be completely carried out
to the letter for them to be paid.  As part of the bargain, they had
to guarantee that once I was tied to the bed, they would finish no
matter how much i pleaded or begged them to stop,  there would be no
turning back.  I would die a gruesome death and be dismembered. When I
showed Buck the death kit, he got fidgety and wild eyed.  He picked up
and examined the knives looking at me and daydreaming of what he was
about to do.  He read over the contract again and again on Friday.

    By Friday evening, we just chilled and even went for a swim in the
pool. It was to be my final relaxing day.  We again engaged in every
deviant sex act we could think of.  I only wish I had tried the other
side sooner.  .  We slept together nude all night and awoke to the
morning sun.  It was my death day, about 9 am.  I would be dead by
Midnight that evening or sooner.  I had taken a strong laxative the
night before and hadn't eaten anything since 5 PM the night before.  I
wanted to be clean and not lose control and spoil the moment.  I drank
only water this glorious morning.

    By 7 PM, Buck and Dog were waiting on me for some final
instructions and as we made our way to the bedroom.  Their mood had
changed over the afternoon and there was no more joking and smiles.  I
looked at them and asked if they were ready.  They said yes.  I felt
in a state of total euphoria now.  If I had any last minute change of
heart, now was the time. My pheromones were raging and my penis was
painfully erect.

    I took off my clothes and laid myself in position on the bed.  I
now had my last chance to back out, but I just couldn't make myself do
it.  I had experienced life and now wanted to fully experience death. 
Buck, as planned, asked me one last time if I was ready to die.  I
proudly and gleefully said yes.  I had never been so ready for
anything in my life.  My best friend Bob would narrate my death and
finish this story after viewing the entire tape of my death. Buck
asked for my journal that I had been writing in for months as I wrote
these last words.  "I have longed for death these many months and I am
ready to die.  I want to die with honor and with as much savage fury
as can be inflicted on my body.  Good bye"

     I received the tape of Johns' death on Tuesday.  He was now dead
and the news channels were playing it up big.  Buck had called 911
after they were miles from the house.  John wanted his remains to be
found within hours of his death.  The quote from one paper was,  "an
unspeakable shocking crime has taken place".  The full details would
never be made public, but I knew and was ready to view the tape.  It
was my promise to John, regardless of how gruesome I found it and also
to pay off his contract with Buck and Dog.

    The first scene on the tape is Buck and Dog already in their masks
and overalls laying out the knives and tools on the bed.  Buck leaves
the room and after a few minutes, John comes back with him.  They
exchange a few words and John takes off his clothes.  He looks so damn
happy for a man about to be brutally murdered and mutilated.  Buck and
Dog are intensely serious and seem agitated. John writes something in
his journal and Buck takes it from him.  John casually lays himself
down on the bed, spreads his legs and arms and give instructions while
his body is strapped down  and secured to the bed.

After a few minutes, he seems to struggle against his bindings and
says, "That's great guys".

I can't believe how casual he is.  I don't have the will power and
never will.  The time code on the tape shows just before 8 PM.  Buck
asks John one more time if he's ready and John says, "Kill me you
fucking faggots and do it right for god sake."

He just grins and takes a deep breath.  Buck and Dog pick up the
smaller of the knives and look at each other.  They seem hesitant to
cross the line, but John just says, "Cmon, stab me."

Buck goes first and jabs the knife into John's belly and pulls it out.
 John winces and takes another deep breath.  He just smiles and urges
them on.  He has to sustain 49 more wounds over the next hour.

"It's easy and feels good", Buck says to Dog.  "Go ahead."

Dog thrusts the knife into Johns chest and again John flinches and
recovers.  How do you prepare for being stabbed?  Buck and Dog take
turns stabbing Johns body over and over again making a new wound every
time, being careful to miss the areas John drew on his body.  John was
yelling at them.

"Hit me", he said.  "Hit me again."  

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  John had been stabbed two dozen
times and was enjoying his obvious pain.  Blood was beginning to ooze
from his wounds.  He had planned everything so well.  The lower the
lethality of the wounds the more his body could take.  Even after 50
stab wounds by these knives, he would not have died if they stopped.

After 45 minutes and nearly 40 holes in his body, John was breathing
heavy now and sweating profusely.  His penis was rock hard, if you can
imagine.  He had always told me that death and erotic feeling were
intertwined with him.  I never did understand.  Buck gave him some
water and all he could say was to finish the job. He was anxious to
get on to step 2.

They stabbed him 10 more times, but in the legs and arms.  He was
bleeding from everywhere and his body looked like a target from a bow
and arrow club.  John was my best friend and I found it incredibly
hard to watch this.  Johns words to me were that the best or worst,
depending on your point of view, was yet to be seen.

It was nearly 9 PM and John was still looking coherent and very much
alive.  As Buck and Dog picked up the 4 in. ice picks, John looked a
little more serious.  The ice picks would certainly cause internal
organ damage and John would die from internal bleeding after step 2
was complete whether they continued or not.  He had talked with me
about this and gotten serious when discussing the threshold of no
return in his plan.   Under any normal circumstances, no one would
want to endure any stabbing, much less these numerous lethal wound
from ice pick.  John was very philosophical.  He knew it would be
painful and lethal, but in the context of this 4 hour event, it just
didn't matter.  He would be dead either way and didn't have to worry
about injury the way we all think in the day to day world.  He just
wanted a progressive plan for his death and wanted to experience the
full gamut of knife wounds that were in his own unique death wish.

John braced himself for the first of his 30 ice pick wounds.  Dog
quickly thrust the pick into Johns right chest and John cried out and
lost his breath.  It was a shock to his system as his lung was
punctured. Before he could recover, Buck stabbed his abdomen above the
navel.  Again John cried out and struggled against the ropes.  It was
hard to see him in pain and his smile had turned to a grimace.  Buck
and John had now crossed into their own murderous rage as John had
wanted.  He knew human nature so well and under the right
circumstances anyone can enjoy this kind of violence.   Besides, they
wanted to get on with this and get out of town.  They repeatedly
stabbed John in the chest, belly and waist.

After 15 of these deep wounds, John yelled out, "Let me catch my
breath, please."

He begged them to let him get his composure back and then they could
start again.  Buck reluctantly said OK.  John's breathing must have
been painful.  Maybe his lung had collapsed.  He coughed up some blood
and was in obvious pain.

"OK", he shouted.  "Finish it."

They stabbed his legs, his side, his shoulders and after an eternity,
they were done.  John now had 80 stab wounds in his body.  While 50
were barely more than superficial, the other 30 were lethal and he
would not last more than a few hours.  It was now 10 PM and Midnight
was his deadline. Step 3, the long knives would be horribly painful
and might cause his death all by themselves prior to step 4.

Buck threw one of the huge Bowie knives to Dog and they stared at them
as John looked on, in pain, bleeding and coughing up even more blood. 
His eyes were red and his color was pale from the blood loss. The bed
around his abdomen was now soaked with blood and his body was riddled
with wounds.  He was barely what I remember of my friend.  This was
his deepest wish and I respected him for it.  So few of us get to
chose the time and place and method of our death.  He was fearless and
lucky.

Buck looked at John and again waited for a nod.  John breathlessly
said, "Go ahead."  Buck put  two hands on the large handle of the
knife and raised it above Johns belly and thrust it into his body. 
Johns' entire body spasmed off the bed and he yelled.  Buck took his
hands away from the knife and John looked at the knife and looked at
Buck and I saw the first sign contented happiness on his face in a
while.  I know he loved seeing this huge knife buried to the hilt in
his body and being conscious to enjoy it in his own perverse way, but
that was John.  Buck and John looked over at Dog.  He raised his own
knife and slammed it into Johns right side, viciously prying two ribs
apart and tearing into Johns lung.  Again Johns body thrust off the
bed and he struggled against the ropes.

His right lung was filled with blood and he had trouble talking. I
could barely make out what he said.  He just raised his head and
looked at his body and smiled broadly.  I can't imagine what he
thought seeing his body moments before dying.  The smile on his face
through the pain was unmistakable and made me feel better.  I knew he
had found his ultimate high, far more powerful than any drug or sex. 
He fell back and his breathing was now labored.  There was one more
vision he wanted before he died.

It was not 10:30 PM and the night wasn't over.  Buck picked up the 2
ft long double edged sword.  It was beautiful.  Johns eyes opened
wide.  This was his final moment.  As planned, Buck positioned the tip
of the sword on the precise spot John had circled.  It was between two
ribs, parallel with their length to allow the sword to penetrate into
his chest cavity, through the heart, hopefully, and on through his
back into the bed.  He had used the word impaled as he talked to me
about it at length months before.

Buck took a position to use his body weight and to be able to put all
of his strength into the movement when plunging the sword into Johns
body.  Out of respect, Buck looked for a sign from John who was in
great pain and waiting for death.

 John said in a loud and clear voice, "Kill me now and hack my body to
bits."

Buck screamed as he thrust the sword into Johns chest.  He struggled
and threw his weight into the sword a second time to keep it moving. 
John screamed out in a loud blood curdling, horrible sound.  I will
never forget his voice.  It was truly the sound of a dying man.  Buck
pulled away and fell back on the floor.  The sword had plunged into
Johns body to the handle.  Johns head thrashed from side to side. His
body convulsed and heaved.  All at once he collapsed and his head fell
to the side.  There was no movement by John, Buck or Dog.  They were
silent.  John was indeed dead and free.

Johns only regret was that he would not be able to see why lay ahead. 
Knowing that Step 5 and 6 would be completed and that I would see it
eased his mind.  He wanted a spectacular death and he got it.  He also
wanted a horrific and shocking murder scene.  His murder was violent
enough.  I was not prepared for I was about to see.  It was exactly as
John had envisioned.  Gore, blood, mayhem and all that that brings to
mind.  I think in many ways Johns deviant wishes for what was to be
done to his corpse was even more erotically exciting to him than his
meticulously planned death.

Buck and Dog composed themselves and stood over Johns corpse and
seemed stunned at what they had done and the scene they had created. 
I'm sure they would have like to leave, but they had a duty to perform
before they would get paid.  According to John, Buck was indeed a
psychopath who had killed at least two unwilling men in a bdsm episode
gone bad.  The one man died of massive trauma to the rectum from
foreign objects, not usually used for that purpose, being inserted
into his rectum . Buck killed the other man to keep him silent.  He
had used an ax.  John trusted Buck to carry through with his wishes. 
Johns only nightmare scenario and one that haunted him, was that
either Buck or Dog would simply pull out a gun and shoot him in the
head after they'd tied him up.  That kind of death was incredibly
empty and those suicide freaks that kill themselves with a whimper or
quick splat on the wall from a gun have wasted a golden opportunity. 
I'm sure John realized his dream when he saw and felt that sword rip
through his body after sustaining over three hours of stabbing. In a
strange way, John and Buck were two of a kind, but very different. 
John could never hurt a fly and only recently became obsessed with his
own death.

Buck picked up the pruning shears and proceeded to cut off Johns
finger tips and thumbs.   He left the room for a minute, presumably to
flush them down the toilet.  John wanted identification to be
difficult.  Buck switched tools for a butcher knife and began the
gruesome task of removing Johns head.  He quickly cut all of the
flesh, tendons and muscle to the bone.  He then picked up one of the
meat cleavers and hacked away at the vertebrae until Johns head fell
over free from his body. Buck picked it up by the hair and placed it
on the larger of the two plates.  This was truly surreal.  He then
gently cradled Johns genitals and made a quick cut freeing Johns penis
and scrotum and placed them on the smaller plate.  Only a gay man
would take such care.  John had chosen wisely.

I had no idea what to expect for step 6.  What was now laying on the
bed was motionless, headless and only vaguely resembled a man.  The
bleeding had stopped with Johns heart.  His entire body was covered in
blood and puncture wounds were everywhere.  Buck pulled out the sword
with some difficulty and the two knives.  He handed Dog a meat
cleaver.  It was now 11:30.

Buck simply said, "Lets give him what he wanted so much."

He viciously began to hack away at the bloody corpse that was once my
living friend.  Dog was entranced by Bucks violence.  Blood and flesh
were splattering everything.  Dog joined in and they seemed to gain
energy and a demented excitement as they went on.  It was truly
horrible to watch.  They screamed in a murderous animal hatred at
Johns remains.  They hacked him to bits before my eyes and tore his
torso to shreds.  Their clothes were covered in blood and bits of raw
flesh and bone and Johns innards.  It was the most bloody gruesome
shocking display of animal savagery I had ever seen.

Where once the center of the bed, lay Johns torso, now there was a
void where only bits of flesh and bone remained.  Only John's arms and
legs were intact.  They took what was left of Johns arms and legs and
threw them into the hacking zone.  They tore his limbs apart leaving
only his feet and hands for anyone to recognize as human.  Johns
slaughterhouse motif was now all over the bedroom.  I only wish John
could have been here to watch this with me.  It was everything he
wanted and more.

John died a painful and glorious death at the hands of two people he
trusted.  It was gruesome and shocking.  He would be happy.