Mother thinks my lover hung the moon, because he handled all the arrangements to bury me. From the morgue to the over-sized coffin, she never had to do a thing. Never had to see the body, never had to sign a form. i had long ago granted power of attorney to my master. He swept in before she had a chance to think. He dealt with my meager estate, paid my bills, removed the sex toys from the apartment before my other life could be exposed to my vanilla clients and family. He handed her a nice check for the balance of what i was worth.
i don't know this first hand.
my essence, ejected from my corpse, had drifted far away at that point. my mother, was not so aggrieved that she didn't notice, even two glasses of wine in, how incredibly handsome the host of my wake was. She did not notice: how crowded the gathering had become, how many older men there were, or that most of them had too much money, that the women in the crowd were tall, thin, and more than a little cruel. Right at home, among them, she didn't notice that none of these people could ever be my friends.
This was a gathering of customers, the people to whom Daddy pimped my fat ass, here for one last hurrah.
It didn't take much money or effort to convince the funeral home to allow those "select few" to prepare the body for burial. In many religions, it's customary for mourners to watch a body, or to clean it before it's interred. Those customs are reverent and respectful to help the spirit of the deceased into the next world.
That's not what happened. The day before the funeral, before my mother arrived for the closed casket observation, they gathered to prepare me for this next state of life.
"Welcome lauded assemblage of our friends most profane. We gather here today to appreciate the body of our common whore, who's physical use to us has come to an end. Please eat and drink, fuck, and converse. Share stories of her debasement with each other at our hands, help to chronicle her descent into disgrace."
Daddy stood before the crowd, his hands raised as he led the proceedings.
They lay my naked body on a table before them. They fucked. They told stories of how they used me, humiliated me, and laughed about who had done it best. The tallest of the raven headed slenders strode forward, the silk dress clung to her shoulders like paint, arrowing down to her cunt, sliding over her sharply pointed nipples. With a deep voice that contradicted her delicate features, she crooned to her peers.
"Just the other week, I had her hog tied on a big silver tray on a party table. We gagged her with an apple and left her trussed up with a curly tail ass-plug as the centerpiece through the party. I have to admit, her tears turned me on the most. Hot, honest, real tears of humiliation. The guests even used her gash as a dip for the veggie platter."
The man called farmer, dressed in overalls instead of mourning clothes, followed her at the head of the table.
"I force fed her for days, by gravity flow tubes. A gallon of soured mush every four hours sliding by tubes into her face, then into her stomach. She cried as her stomach filled, the mash sliding into her guts. No matter how full she got, there was always more to feed her. We put her in the barn, lay her on her back, her fat belly in the air. We locked her head on the urinal side of a wall, and her fuckbits and ankles tied up in the air on the other. The farmhands fucked her for three solid days as a treat while her tits rolled around, bruising black and blue as they slapped her sides. She cried every time she shat into the hay below her, the boys let her know how they felt about having to muck out another stall before hosing out her ass and fucking it. The only water she got was piss-water. She spat it out, the first day, but by the last she drank everything the men would give her. The only protein around she sucked from cock, and we got her to put on twenty-two pounds that first visit."
Another one of the ravens, more formally dressed, in low slung pumps gestured for silence, and she took the floor.
"I took her to work with me. I walked her on the end of a short chain, floor by floor. No clothes, no blindfold, just bondage mittens to remove the use of her hands and a prosthetic pig's snout spirit glued to her face. The little flats I let her wear, looked like hooves and clicked loudly as she walked. I caned her if she tried to speak. I didn't allow her any breaks. she had to shit on the floor in front of my desk sometime around 3:30. I had my secretary clean it up. She shot daggers the whole rest of the day at the pig, and gossip raced through the building. I let people get a good look at her, let her hear people talking about her and made sure she knew what a disgusting animal she was."
The next man looked like a kindergarten teacher. His bland appearance disappeared when his predatory smile slashed his face in two. He didn't need to ask for silence.
"I put piggy in a cage in the basement, I had the household filth piped above her. Three fucking machines pumped her fat fucking frame. The undulations in her tits and ass pleased me to watch. She shrieked into the mouth dildo as the shit above poured down her neck, and I jerked off into her face. By the end of the weekend she reeked like something unholy, and my blissfully ignorant wife asked me to call a plumber to see what the problem was."
The next fellow had the appearance of a weight lifter. He didn't appear to be especially smart, but cruelty never hinged on intellect.
"When I met her, she was freshly caught. She didn't know which end was up, but once she got my fat cock in her mouth... she was a natural."
An obese man attended by chained gelded young men banged on the table for attention. He drooled down his chin, splattering saliva as he yelled.
"I retained the use of her for weeks at a time, my favorite cow... I'll miss the pathetic mewling sounds she made when we hooked her up to the industrial milking machine. I fucked the shit out of her tight ass, with those hoses weighing down her fat fucking udders, her bloated tits slapping together as she rocked. The machine forced her nipples to thicken, grow, bestial. It took months, but I finally got her to drop milk. The boys would roll my chair over to her milking station so she could toss my salad. She cried every time I made her tongue my ass, she cried more the night she forgot to hate it."
The next two looked like they stepped from the pages of a hipster catalog, she held his elbow, obviously his submissive, but holding her own edge of cruelty.
"We hunted her down at a bar. She was out with family, but it was clear to us that they didn't give a flying fuck about her. No one watched her back, but her guard was down. We spiked her drink, we watched it hit her, making her oh, so suggestible. She followed us home willingly. I talked nice to her, at first. She undressed, slowly, shyly, then the shit we gave her got up on her, and she couldn't have got away for love or money. I fucked her all night, fed her fear. I loved the purity of her fear, her dedication to you."
He nodded to my master.
"My alpha sub caned her, while I cocked her ass with all ten inches. Jody screamed at her about how fat girls deserve this. How she failed to serve her master. We stripped her of her symbolic collar and shoved it up her ass. She cried about her daddy, and how her pussy was off limits, that Daddy hadn't put her pussy lock back in - while I banged her with my shit dick!"
Daddy raised his hands and the bacchanal fell silent.
"I did not come easily to the decision to share my girl with this assembly. I realized early, in my observations of her before acquisition, how very much potential she has, and how very much pleasure there is to be found in dragging that potential to the shackles of obedience. Surely, she had to be broken. Her spirit was strong. Stubbornness, more than anything else, less than will, it burned in her brightly."
He gestured at the hipster rapist.
"You both helped brake her will that night. When she arrived at my home, stepped half-naked and beaten from her truck, I took her in. As I salved her welts and bruises, remarking how she reeked of sex, and had cum dripping from her holes, she tearfully confessed to her weakness, her inability to defend my property. It was her fault, you see, she had spent the time with family. She should have been here tending to my will. I wish you had been there to hear her, alas I am the only witness to the moment she stopped pretending to be and truly became my whore. This is the conversation I had with her that night, to the best of my memory."
"i'm sorry Daddy! i'm so, so sorry i failed you. Please don't throw me away, Daddy, i promise i'll do better!"
"I pointed to the ground, her command to assume the position, her face down against the floor, her hands and elbows flat and outstretched as well. Despite the beating you both gave her, she managed perfect execution, her ass high up in the air, presenting her well tortured holes. The lash lines across her vast ass-cheeks, art, of the highest caliber. The ordeal you inflicted on her, the anguish her body radiated, brought my cock to a throbbing, turgid, full mast. There was the smallest sound that escaped her lips as my cock reclaimed her. I like to think that it was the last bit of her pride escaping her body as she surrendered herself, all of herself, to me."
"Tell me what happened. Tell me what they did to you."
"I fucked her, slowly at first intentionally forcing her to relive the experience of the night."
"Tell Daddy what happened."
"she sobbed, she bawled, but she never moved from the position she was instructed to take."
"i was on the drag, but my family left me behind to try to hook up, i only had one drink but my head started to spin. This couple, they were nice to me, they wanted to help me, they helped me to my truck and said i should follow them home."