I'm on my way home from a party when my phone vibrates, nearly makes my legs buckle. I fish it from inside my short shorts, my heart skipping a beat when I look at it. The word 'fuckstop' jumps out as I read the text, there's a warmth in my belly, and set off for the nearest, heels clacking against the pavement.
It's near the university campus reception, its sign brightly lit, and a chime goes off as I enter. There's movement as women bound to guillotines react to my arrival, the couple who don't are missing their heads, and I strip before moving a corpse to the fuckstop's bodypile, taking her place. Trembling I lie on the bascule and secure the lunette, shoving my hands beneath me and toying with my pussy as clamps close around my ankles.
Soon after the chime goes again, a distinctly masculine presence striding in. He must spot my teasing fingers because his footsteps get louder. He splits the bascule in two, spreading my legs and stepping between them. Anticipation arcs through me, I whorishly moan as he thrusts into me. He feels huge, feels like he's stretching me, and his pace drives the breath from me.
I gasp as an orgasm washes over me, he slaps my ass as I tighten around his length, and soon his breath hitches. I frantically work my clit as I'm filled, as he reaches for the guillotine's switch. The blades come together, slice cleanly through my neck…
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