Suicide Island
by
Masoman

    When I founded Suicide Island just under two years ago, I took an oath to all who would join me that I would end my own life by the end of the 2nd year.  In fact, I had planned my finale from the outset just in case there were non believers.  Were I not to end my life at the appointed time, this whole idea, of building a place where we who choose a sweet gratifying death over life, would be a sham and I'd have surely been lynched anyway and shunned by my fellow death wishers.
   
    My initial reasons for wanting to commit suicide had not changed in these two years.  Even if they had, I would still self snuff, if for no other reason, than pure honor and the thrill of it all.  Why not choose death?  What is there to fear?  For those of us with no family that we care about and a deep desire to fully explore the dark side, death is the ultimate journey.  And if the choice is death, why not choose a manner of death with as much horror and gore and darkness as can be experienced in a few incredible hours or minutes of the event.  When you don't have to worry about recovery or healing or living in pain for the rest of your life, let go and try all that dying has to offer.

    I didn't tell anyone of how I was going to do it.  I wanted it to be a complete surprise.  We had put off any suicides for the past month so that we would have a good crown.  My death would also be filmed from various angles to be edited later and photographed for our website.  I now had only 24 hours left to live and I was feeling relief now that the time was at hand.  I wanted to combine as many elements of death, horror, mutilation and finally asphyxia as I could in the few hours I'd have to kill myself. 

    There would be a noose hanging from a rafter on the stage that would be around my neck the entire time.  It would be low enough to allow me to inflict as much damage on my body as possible before I no longer had the strength to stand.  At that point, I would slump and hang as a nice slow finish to my final show.

    There would also be a table to my side with two dozen 2 in knives, a dozen 4 in ice picks, a straight razor, and two 8 in Bowie knives.  I would use them all on my body over these final two hours.  I wanted people to talk about this for years.  I wanted to have the most spectacular suicide ever witnessed and have my audience in such an erotic state that they would orgasm just watching me.  Those of us who crave an erotic death share a bond like no other.  Unless you feel it, you just wouldn't understand.  My first time becoming aroused thinking about death goes back to the story "Patriotism" by the Japanese author, Mishima, who committed seppuko.  I got so hard thinking about it that I lost total control and ripped my clothes off and masturbated till I fell on the floor exhausted.  Whenever I dreamed of my death after that, I was in an instant state of almost painful arousal. 

    The Internet allowed me to meet others like me and fully express my darkest desires.  I might never have come up with the idea for this wonderful place had I not let go and found that there were many souls like me.

    I had my assistant help me with the noose and then it was time.  The sun was low on the horizon.  I would be dead within a few hours.  I rang the bell signaling the 60 or so people that there would be a death tonight.  None of them knew the exact day I would die.  My body was on fire just thinking about this final period of my life.  I walked up on the stage naked with my bag of implements and as the crowd gathered, I took each gleaming piece out and laid it on the table.  It was so wonderful to see so many naked men and women all gathered to watch me die.  Never had I been so happy or contented.

    I was ready to die now and just minutes away from starting a process that was not reversible.  Once I thrust the first blade into my soft skin and muscle, I would zone out and be in a state of endorphin induced euphoria like no other.  My cock was so fucking hard as I stood before everyone and they were amazed at what I was about to attempt.  All the other suicides paled in comparison to this one, both in ferocity and duration.

    As the sun set, I picked up  the first 2 in knife and said to the crowd, "Do you want to see me die?"

    They all just cheered.  My death was advertised as part of the allure of Suicide Island.  Our ranks swelled just before the two year point so people could witness my death.  I had long promised a good one.

    I would make one more comment before starting:  "What you will see over the next few hours, you will never see again.  I will inflict as much damage on my body as possible before it gives out.  I want you all to enjoy my death and if the mood strikes you, gratify yourselves during the show.  It is time for me to die."

    Again they cheered and watched my every move.  Still holding the knife, I stood sideways holding the knife a few inches from my midsection and looked at the crowd.  I ever so gently, pushed the knife into my body.  My skin folded inward as I pushed.  In and instant, the blade pierced the skin and my body enveloped the knife.  The pain was minor and hugely gratifying.  I let go so they could see and looking down, only the handle of the knife and my cock stood out from my body.

    I had 23 more knives to use and grabbed another.  I turned the other way and quickly thrust it into my side.  Over the next 30 minutes, I pushed and stabbed the knives into my torso from my pubic mound to my ribs and from side to side.  One by one they magically enter my body, each adding to the fire ignited in my gut.  The pain was bearable at this point and I did not see any reason to put the noose around my neck.  Each knife added to my excitement and to the crowd's anticipation.  I suddenly had a change of mind and decided to wall through the crowd after the 24th knife was in my body to show them that this was no magic trick, but indeed the start of a bloody evening with me as the willing victim.

    As I pushed the 24th blade into my flesh, I made my way down the stairs and walked among my followers, my raging cock leading the way.  Each man and woman looked at me in awe at my courage and bravado.  I loved what I was doing and was proud to die with honor.  My body was now like a human pin cushion and I couldn't wait to add more and more to the mix.  After letting everyone see my condition, I walked up the stairs and held up an ice pick.  These were 4 inches long and would definitely pierce an organ.  As with the first knife, I placed the tip of the first pick against my middle and slowly pushed it in.  Again my skin folded, but quickly gave in to the narrow tool.  As it went through my outer defense, there was a brief area with only fluid, but then it pushed through my bowel and I grimaced as the handle stopped at my flesh.  I looked down and smiled.  This was turning out as planned and beautiful to see.

    There was amazingly little blood from my 25 wounds.  The skin had sealed them tight and no arteries or major veins had been punctured.  Only my skin was bleeding and weeping blood around each knife.  I grabbed another of the 11 picks left and held it high for all to see and viciously thrust it into my middle.  It hurt alot and my hand fell away.  Touching the handle brought pain.  I grabbed two picks this time and held them up again.  With both hands, I stabbed each side of my abdomen with the two ice picks.  I again grimaced and flinched.  Everyone was amazed at my brazen desire to inflict pain on my body.  There were 9 picks left. 

    I took one in my hand and slowly pushed it into the area under my sternum so as to pierce the lining of my stomach.  I wanted some blood to make its way up to my mouth.  I grabbed two more and turned my back to the crowd.  While awkward, I stabbed each into my kidneys.  I immediately fell to my knees in pain and almost fell forward.  It was time for the noose to be slipped over my neck.  If I fell again, everyone would get to see me hang.  Not now though.  I had 7 ice picks left to use.  I stood and fitted the noose to my neck.  I suddenly felt the need to urinate and there was blood streaming out onto the stage from my still hard penis.  Everyone was silent as they new I was over the edge of being mortally wounded.  There was no turning back. 

    I had maybe one more hour to live and needed to move fast.  I took one ice pick at a time and with a determined growl, pushed them each into my body slowly in various spots that were untouched.  After 20 minutes of searing pain caused by these final wonderful spears, I was in a good bit of pain and feeling the full effect of being stabbed 36 times.  I was having trouble standing and occasionally being choked by the noose.  I looked down at my body and reveled in my state.  My body was under attack and fighting to survive.  I was cold and obviously bleeding internally.  I gazed out at the audience and there was silence.  They just stared at my body and at my face looking for signs of regret or fear.  I only smiled though obviously in pain.  I had promised them pain and blood and mayhem.  I was true to my word.  Now I had to clear the target area that was my body for a final assault to the end.

    I began to pull out all 36 implements one at a time slowly and drop them on the floor.  As each blade eased out, it was followed by a trickle of fresh red blood.  After an eternity, I had pulled all of them out and my body oozed blood from seemingly every square inch from side to side and cock to sternum.  I was a living bloody piece of swiss cheese.  I coughed and some more blood spewed from my mouth and ran down my chin.  I wanted to see the view that the cameras were seeing, but I had a sacred mission to perform.  The two Bowie knives awaited my bloody hands.  I would need all of my strength for this and quickly took the first knife in my hands and held it up over my head.  I was positively seething with the desire to rip the blade into my body.  The damage would be severe, tearing apart my bowels and maybe more.  All of the previous wounds were minor and potentially survivable, but the Bowie knives would be lethal and certainly be capable of causing death by themselves.  As I held the knife in anticipation of slamming the blade into my body, I felt as if time had stopped.  My cock was still hard.  My pain was severe.  I felt the need to let go and fall to the floor.  Only my desire to finish my pledge and self snuff kept me standing.

    I looked out at the crowd.  They were on their feet waiting for the finale.  I tightened my grip on the knife and forced my arms down hard.  The blade shot into my midsection with such force, ripping my skin, muscle and insides apart that it went to the handle in the one move.  I quickly let go and was in shock seeing this huge handle sticking out of my belly, knowing the blade was deep inside having caused unspeakable damage.  I suddenly lost control of my legs and began to choke and hang sooner than I wanted.  The pain in my belly was excruciating and yet gratifying.  I knew it would be over soon.  I regained my strength and tried to stand taking the tension off the noose, but it had tightened.  Realizing that my body would not easily take the other Bowie knife, I changed plans and now reached for the straight razor.  My final movement would be to open my gut and spill my entrals out onto the floor.  I would not have had the strength to finish if I'd used the 2nd Bowie.  I didn't want to cheat anyone or me of a total show, but the finish was more important.

    I wanted to make one deep long cut along my middle.  It had to be deep enough to slice through my skin and muscle and long enough to open me up allowing my innards to escape.  I held the razor against my left side and pressed it into my bloody skin.  Knowing that a super sharp razor would do the job with little pain allowed me to start my final journey into the dark unknown world of death. 

    At last, the blade easily slipped through my skin.  I was surprised at the ease of this whole scene.  I was now delirious with lust for the ending.  The blade, as if driven by some outside force made its way across my middle as if it were soft butter.  It took just a few sweet delicious seconds for the razor to make the required cut over 12 inches in length.  I let the razor drop to the ground with the other bloodied tools of my destruction.  The floor was speckled with blood and now some intestinal fluid.  The razor went deep enough to open me up, but hopefully not so deep as to spoil what would be a wild scene.

    Just as I'd hoped, as I now hung by the noose under increasing tension as my legs weakened, my body slowly gave up its precious cargo through the opening I'd made.  It was magic as the flap opened and the first strand of my bowels oozed out like some huge strand of bloody spaghetti.  I was so happy to see the reaction of the crowd through my pain and final desire.  Suddenly my body opened up and the 30 feet of guts rolled out of me in a flash just hanging by a final strand.  I could no longer hold my body up and I slumped being held up only by the now tightly strangling noose.

    I barely struggled for breath as people clapped and cheered.  As I'd wished, they were in awe.  I was rapidly losing consciousness and yet so fucking high on this scene, maybe from lack of oxygen or blood or endorphins, but high nevertheless.  Dying was easier then I'd imagined.  The pain, while brutal and burning at times was incredible to experience.  I only wish I ...............................................................................