In corpuscle cathartic there is a set of measurements known as the Planck building block. These measurements are extrapolated from the physical constants of reality, such as the speed of light and the Boltzman invariable, which describes the maths of information. A Max Karl Ernst Ludwig Planck length is the distance a massless mote will locomote at the amphetamine of illumination ( the Max Karl Ernst Ludwig Planck hurrying ) and consequently the Max Karl Ernst Ludwig Planck time is the amount of time it will necessitate for a particle to travel the Planck length at the upper of light. In the idea of many physicists, the Planck units are the belittled measurement of consequence in our realism, as the laws of physics as we understand cease to sustain relevancy below these measuring within most simulation and theories. Because of this, the Planck units may be thought of somewhat like the underlying"grid"within our universe, on which the pixel of realism move. Perhaps a single unit of Max Karl Ernst Ludwig Planck time is the closest we can come to truly defining a"moment"in our world.

Rebecca stared blankly at her showerhead as the blisteringly hot sprayer loosened the origin from her supple skin and carried it down her hourglass signifier and swirling into the drainpipe. She stood there for a long sentence, mouth slightly agape, eyes defocused as the water scalded her, punishing her for her sins, even as it comforted her, held tight and purified her. take away away the line. She didn't try hard to realise what she had done only mo before, instead simply embracing the heat wrapping around her like a indorsement skin and causing billowing wave of steam to emerge from her apartment's unfold bathroom door and into the coolheaded night air past her balcony. Closing her optic, she felt at peace for the first time in the last… what was it now ? Three weeks ? A month ? It didn't thing now. A slight smiling curled around her lips. All was well now. All could end now. The Whitney Young woman reached down and gently twisted the two knobs at her waist tier, causing the body of water to gush to a dribble and for a sudden blow of cool air to run over her from outside.

She turned and opened her eyes, suddenly realizing she hadn't even slid her shower door shut in her haze. Slowly, gracefully, her calm name stepped from the tiled base onto the bleary garden pink mat a couple steps away, where she stood for a moment and felt the easy chain of semisynthetic fabric tickling her dripping human foot. It was the same sensation she had loved since she was a lilliputian girl, just as special as ever this time. Her smile widened. A actual, sweet, kind smile. She turned once Thomas More, this time to the body-height mirror in the corner of the privy. She was beautiful, her ivory skin glistening and her perfect blonde hairsbreadth draping over her shoulder joint and breasts and wrapping around the curve of her organic structure like a affected role and caring buff in the manifestation. She took another dumb moment to examine her motherly hips, flared to perfection and curving into her flawless thighs, pressed against each former just enough to highlight the softness of her cutis and the pristine proportionality of fat throughout her eubstance. Her usually pocket-sized boob presented a colorful, tantalizing direct contrast to her otherwise pale figure, swollen with breastmilk and taking a pink hue, shiny and ripe from the interior pressure level that was stretching them into beautiful fruit.

Suddenly her middle caught the baby's dummy laying by the john in the reflection, a few specks of rakehell still spatter across its soft credit card Earth's surface. Her saying changed for a few moments into, not a glower, but an emptiness. A void of emotion, of thought… characterlessness. But as soon as this transmutation had taken place, it was reversed, and her gentle, motherly smiling returned."I love you,"she said silently into the mirror. To whom was unknown region even to her. It just seemed a beautiful thing to say in the consequence, as the cool night breeze played across her body and caused tiny spots of people of color to stir across her gorgeous arms and legs, tit hardening, pointing up slightly from her immaculate breasts. For a moment she felt a charge, and glanced down almost teasingly at her own lips, barely visible between her slick thighs. She could feel a rush of stemma, passion inside her, contrasting with the cold air as her sex prepared for something that would not do. Not now, not ever again.

The mother- the girl- the woman, walked with silent, perfect free grace through her quiet one-man bedroom, careful not to maltreat in the blood-stains on the rug as she approached the balcony, coxa swaying with the taunting sensualness of a succubus. Her pupil contracted as she exited her room to the neon igniter of the city outside, and she took a deep hint of the midnight air, allowing it to act as in her lungs for a few moments the way an freak would return to the smoke of a cigar after weeks of a miserable attempt at quitting. It gave her life. Grounded her in the beautiful public around her. And yet, it wasn't enough. Or rather, it wasn't a reason to continue. She was felicitous for this to be her metre, her end mark on the universe she'd loved bread and butter in until now.

Suddenly she heard a outcry. Coming from in front and above her. She glanced up, and caught sight of a untested man, appearing to be in his mid twenties, standing on the balcony directly opposite and one level above hers."Hey sweetheart,"he intoned with obvious purpose."Saw you out here the other nighttime, but didn't get a chance to talk."She could smell his eyes on her naked, dripping breasts, and took no criminal offense, instead smiling sweetly up at him.

"Enjoy it,"she spoke just loud enough for him to take heed, her dark, smooth voice travelling the cool Night air in two small, echoing waves. The depth of passion in her vocalism was unbelievable, and the man felt his heart, and his pecker, pounding in his chest and bloomers. The speech of the hauntingly beautiful woman were spoken as if she were instructing, with a dominant self-assurance, her lover to enjoy their climax inside of her. He stared at her silently, unable to realize what was happening, awestruck by her beauty, as she lifted herself onto the railing of her balcony and stood up straight, wet pilus blowing in the cold nighttime wind around her like a sail in a storm. He tried to speak as he watched tip forward, her smile disappearing under her olfactory organ, but his mettle had stopped for a second, and his lungs failed him when he wanted to shout, to call out, to cry to her…"no ”.

She fell, beautifully, gracefully, her body rigid at inaugural, for the first two rotations of her dip, and then her branch began to draw in in every direction, painfully, as she tumbled down. She embraced the pain, embraced the tug of the motor force on her splayed-out form. The infliction, the discomfort, the pang of sorrow in those final moments purified her like the passion of the rain shower minutes before. It told her she was right to do this, to repent, to go out this world for a place more beautiful, whether it be paradise or oblivion, or perhaps the straining she deserved.

It's often said that sealed Death are painless. That they happen"instantly ”. That the individual feels nothing, the damage is too great in too short a clock time and their brain, the tail of the mind, is incapable of informing them of the horror that their physical mannequin is being exposed to. Many would think that about beautiful Rebecca as her dead body impacted the concrete below. They would be legal injury. For Rebekah, the pitiable thing, the definition of a second, of an representative, mattered so much. As her head slammed at near terminal velocity into the grey walkway, as her skull flattened, snapped, crushed to scatter and genius began to mush, there was a single here and now, a single unit of Planck metre, in which every surviving neuron up until that point worked dilligently, desperately, to communicate to Rebecca, to organise the thought in her thinker"I'm dying. My head is exploding like a melon onto the sidewalk,"and every boldness that still functioned threw a single wave of hurting through her body. Every atom, every proton, neutron, and quark had their wavefunction crash into the exactly correct spot to enable a single, quantifiable second of clip in which Rebecca was fully aware that she would not exist in the adjacent proceeding second. That she was in her utmost remaining bit of her lifetime ; of her violent, ghastly dying that she had chosen for herself. If, as some speculate, clip is an illusion, a bare way for human minds to understand one bully tapestry that is the static 4-dimensional tapestry that is the cosmos, that moment will survive forever. It is interminable, constant, forever present. Rebekah will always be there. full moon of pain, regret and terror. Her head tear halfway open. Her defenseless, motherly figuring collapsing pitifully into a nonhuman mess as her optic gaze up at several nearby tourists watching her die. Watching those Lapp centre explode out of their sockets right before the visual nerves are ripped from her skull. That is her hell. One of many. Located various calendar month past a few early countless, although not incalculable, Rebekah 's heavens.

Then she was gone, her head liquifying in a wafture of red that splattered onto nearby passersby who would drop the next several bit screaming, crying, calling for aid, and staring down at the beautiful corpse that lay there now. Twitching, it tried so hard not to die across every cadre in its makeup. But it was too deep. Rebecca, the girl, the mother, the woman, the homo being, the consciousness, was gone. All that remained was this wet, flopping, dripping, beautiful objective, breasts flopping with its tearing spasms as grayish matter leaked out onto the street with pedigree, its one integral eyeball various foundation away where it was in severe peril of being crushed by the running footsteps of police. It convulsed there awkwardly for a few minutes, arguably mostly intact from the berm down.

The matter, and that 's exactly what it was now, had absorbed virtually of the forcefulness of the impact through the skull and spur. Its soft glossa dangled by a thread of tissue from its jaw, which only remained attached the body because it was compacted significantly into where the neck should get been, which was itself now buried between the two shoulders, the thorn compressed to the point where it bulged horrifically midway down the consistence at a point where it tore through the skin shortly above the buttocks and was visibly and bloodily protruding from the corpse. The affair 's easygoing and pleasantly rounded belly had burst internally, and showed signs of threatening to do so externally as well. A nasty dark substance was trickling from the umbilicus as as flowing freely from the anus. It was n't feces, although that may consume been part of its composition. The bladder somehow survived the fall well enough to allow it to abandon, squirting with storm force-out at short-change intervals with the final exam desperate bears of a dying heart and two thick streams of origin out of the cervix. To more than one nearby observer, the trashy sound of liquidness sputtering in repeated bursts out of either end of the thing, and the ropelike show of both as they stretched out over respective feet, was not unsimilar to an ejaculation. A climax to a degree unknown to any brain, but expressed now by an unthinking corpse.

The untested man from the balcony above arrived shortly before the police did. As he pushed through the crowd, tears streamed down his face. This was his geological fault. He said zippo. Did she do this because of him ? No, he could n't be blamed for- he finally saw her. No. It. His cock throbbed against his jean and he bent over to wretch. When he could pass off again he looked up and saw its tongue, which had spoken to him only arcminute before, had finally writhed free from that last-place ribbon and somehow had the vitality left in the muscle to curve one end time on the sidewalk before it stopped moving. An intrusive thought wormed its way into his head. He imagined that tongue in his mouth, first while it had been in the young woman mouth, and then quickly after as it was now. He imagined picking it up, with nobody else there, and wrapping his own natural language around it, staring down at the thing still flopping and pouring fluid out every porta before-

The constabulary arrived, shoving him and various others out of the way and barking orders nobody was listening to, everyone who was still at the web site of impact trying to hold on oculus on the grotesque vista. He did n't have much time to react, however, before one of the police officers, who had turned around and was trying to brandish and shout bystanders away from the scene, accidentally backed into the remains and tripped over it, his boot impacting the swollen and damaged belly of the thing as he fell backward over it. The force was too heavy for what was left. The remaining bystanders screamed and collectively took several zip stride back as what used to be Rebekah 's beautiful stomach tore unresolved and released it 's colorful subject onto the pavement. length of intestine, which was visibly ripped in multiple situation, unfurled out across several pes, pressure having apparently built within the rancid container that was the clay 's stomach cavity. The stomach itself followed, ripped open and spilling forth acid, along with half-digested food for thought, that immediately began to eat away at the intuitive it splashed onto. The clay was quickly beginning to go unrecognizable as something that had been a cleaning woman. The young man felt something squish underneath his invertebrate foot as he staggered back, almost tripping over it, and with his prick still buldging to a degree where he feared person may notice, he lifted his foot to unwrap the surviving eyeball flattened and flare-up under his shoe.

Later, when he was done drying his snag, when he was done explaining to the constabulary what he had seen, when he was done trying to understand why he had seen what he did, the Edward Young man from the balcony found warmth, solace, smasher once again in the privacy of his own shower, stroking himself and imagining that one moment, that unit of measurement of Planck time, in which he imagined Rebecca knew her fate. pity washed over him but so did the burning hear of the water, rinsing away each twinge of guiltiness with a searing waving of sinlessness over his skin. As he recalled Rebecca, whose name he never actually learned, falling out of view, as he recalled her origin gushing out of her like cum, her tongue on the pavement, her belly bursting, her eyeball under his foot… he came. His back arched, his legs stretched out as far as they could, his head thrown back in a mute, open-mouthed sigh of pleasance, he held his cock between two finger's breadth in his right helping hand. He felt his balls tighten and that unbelievable buildup for just a moment before the sensation of rushing liquid pulsing through his shaft, filling his cocl before launching out in Mexican valium across the rain shower and against the tile bulwark. He looked down at it and imagined it was the blood and piss flowing from the cadaver, and the succeeding squirt was even more powerful, even more satisfying, as his head began to swim from the rush of blood to his lower body in the heat. His cum coagulated in the intense burning heat if the cascade, and he reached to turn the weewee off even as he continues to shudder and launch milklike white flow several inches forward. He felt exhausted as he stood there and watched his seed drip down toward the drain but it continued to spurt in little and small-scale pulses. What felt like the beneficial orgasm of his life. He stared at the cum right by the drain. The Caucasian globs that he 'd produced while the heat was still intense bad turned into gooey egg that did n't want to go over the time of the drain easily, when the fresher cum be still leaked was much more liquified and flowed down freely. It looked like the corpse 's brains and parentage had as they flowed into the storm waste pipe earlier.

The vernal man 's chest hurt, burning from the I tensity of his experience as he stepped out of the shower, still dripling wet, his quickly-softening semi-erect turncock still pulsing pleasurably, little beads of cum roll over the faithful of his foreskin as he emerged from the bathroom into the cool air. He collapsed, defenseless and wet, onto his bed. His thighs, running with cum, mostly the coagulated stuff from the head, rubbed satisfyingly against the soft surface, medium along with his now almost entirely flaccid dick after his orgasm. He humped his bed quietly for a few minutes and enjoyed the cool down air. Turning, he stared, half-asleep, at the candid door to his balcony. He was n't indisputable what he was thinking about, really, but his cocl started to tighten up against the covers.

Somewhere out there in time, she was still dying. Her last moment. He started to stroke himself again as he walked toward the balcony. Hard as a rock candy by the prison term he reached the rail, he climbed up onto it shakily. Terrified but exhilarated, he tried to asseverate his balance as he stroked himself and imagined what the girl had experienced. The cool air was thrilling. The same assuredness air she fell to her death in. He came again as he imagined ejaculating onto her corpse. He continued to cum as he imagined dying with her. Adding his import to the tapestry of the universe.

On the street below, a young woman stared at her feet as she walked home after late chemise at work. A interference caught her attention. A wet pop. She thought for a moment that it might be starting to rain, but when her heart caught the wet spot in strawman of her it looked unusual. The sound repeated as she watched more liquid, now obviously sticky and slightly albumen, splattered in movement of her. A pearl hit her head and stung slightly, and she placed her helping hand onto her hair's-breadth and pulled it back to reveal what was obviously cum. Shocked and afraid she looked up for the source and saw-

- The End