Extra Life

This story is written for the 2023-II 'Twins' story writing contest here: Writing Contest 2023/II

This story contains b/g twincest, consensual GURO in form of hanging, and a bit of urine drinking.

Extra Life

You want to know why we — ah, sorry, here I go again — why I occasionally slip into speaking about myself in plural? You must think: what a weird girl, she’s probably not all there, ha-ha. But really it’s just a habit back from childhood when there were indeed two of me… no, wait, is this where I’m actually supposed to say “us”? Ha-ha-ha. But then he also was just another me, you know? My twin brother.

At home, at school or at the playground, we would be together all day long, living our life hand in hand, and then come night we would sleep in each other’s arms. Even, like, if I wanted to do one thing and he wanted another, we wouldn’t each do their own thing, and instead do one thing together and then the other also together. As long as it was a possibility, of course. Or maybe the way I should put it is: if he wanted to do something, then I automatically wanted to do it with him because I knew it was what he wanted, and vice versa. Makes sense? So it came as a matter of course that either of us would commonly speak on behalf of us both, hence the habit of saying ‘we’ where one would normally say ‘I’. Although it wasn’t just a speech habit, we perceived it that way too. Say, in a situation where he wanted to wear blue and I wanted to wear red, the way we would think of it was that we wanted to wear blue on him and red on me. You can even say we treated ourselves as one person lucky enough to have two bodies. Some people found it uncanny how much we were acting like a single unit, but for ourselves it was only natural, we’d have to go out of our way to do otherwise.

Wait, which part do you want me to elaborate on? Sleeping together? Huh. Yes, we did indeed share a bed. And if you want to know, we slept in the nude too. More comfortable that way, and also makes for better enjoyable cuddling. It didn’t bother us because he was just another me and I was just another him. What if I tell you we even took bath together, washing each other’s backs and whatnot? Some kids hate bathing, but we loved it! It was a lot of fun to play in the water together or just relax in each other’s arms. You know, this is usually where people get grossed out, but you’re… interested? Maybe you can be the one to accept us… me?.. no, us! But you probably should hear the full story first. Because surely at this point you’re wondering what happened to my twin brother?

Oh, no, it’s not a sad story at all. Quite a funny one, actually, and I’d be delighted to tell it. Delighted to have someone I can tell it to and hope they can understand… can you? After all, you seemed to like the part where we were bathing together, and this story starts exactly there. See, as time went and we grew up, my brother’s peepee began to get big and hard as we washed it. Well, mostly I washed it, since we enjoyed it much more to wash each other rather than to have each wash their own body. Since there were two of us, would’ve been a waste not to utilize it, right?

At first, we didn’t really pay special attention to his peepee getting big, but it kept doing it every time, so eventually we couldn’t help but take notice of it and become curious. It was just another day when we were bathing as usual and my brother’s peepee once again grew bigger in my hands, even peeping out from under the skin. I noted:
“Here it goes again.”
And my brother replied:
“Yeah, I wonder why it is doing so,” touching it curiously.
And then it struck me:
“Hey, why don’t we look it up?”
My brother laughed:
“What kind of book would write about a peepee?”
And I answered:
“A medical encyclopedia!”
“Indeed!” my brother nodded energetically, “let’s look it up then.”

Thus, after we were done with bathing — quite more hurriedly than usual — we went straight to the bookshelves in the living room. We didn’t even wipe ourselves — meaning each other — properly, because of how impatient we were to satisfy our curiosity, so of course we didn’t bother to put on any clothes either. Water was dripping from our naked bodies onto the carpet, but absorbed in the moment we couldn’t care less. We brought a stool on which my brother climbed to reach the upper shelves, while I was searching the lower ones. See, we had plenty of books at home, and I brought the whole idea up because I was sure there was a medical encyclopedia in there somewhere. It was just a matter of finding it.

And find it we did. Wait, I see, ‘we’ doesn’t work here, because for the sake of this story it’s actually relevant that it was my brother who found it. It was a massive book, so he had trouble getting down from the stool with it and slipped. I watched startled as he fell hard on the floor and even managed to hit his head right against the edge of the stool, which made him pass out. But back then my young mind decided he had snapped his neck and died. We were just kids after all, easy to impress. Because I had no doubt he was dead, I didn’t even bother to check on him, and instead went for the book he dropped.

I laid face down on the sofa and carefreely flipped through the encyclopedia, searching for a relevant topic. What I’ve found was an article on ‘erection’. It seemed to be exactly the phenomenon my brother’s peepee — or ‘penis’, as it was called in the book — showed. Having buried myself in the book, I didn’t notice that my brother’s ‘corpse’ moved and got up from the floor. Believing him to be dead I was unwittingly kicking up my heels… now imagine how I screamed when he suddenly caught my legs and hugged them from behind! And how we both laughed afterwards. I was like: “Hey, I thought you were dead!” And he was like: “Now we’re quits!”

Ah, I guess you need to know that other story to get what he meant by that. It was a kinda similar accident from when we were younger, only back then it was he who believed that I was dead. We were playing at the river, but then the weather suddenly got stormy, all the other kids got to the shore, but I couldn’t make it and was carried away by the flow. It was so rapid and turbulent we were all sure I would drown. It made the other kids scared for me and a couple of older ones were even going to try and save me. But that would’ve put themselves at risk, so my brother had to step in and explain that it’s alright.

Yes, it’s alright, because we’re twins. We’re two of the same, so it’s no big deal if one of us dies. It’s basically like having an extra life. Our common self will continue to live, just in one body instead of two. But having two bodies for one self in the first place is a luxury we were lucky to be born with, not a necessity. Do you get it? You’d be the first adult to understand us beside our mom… at least kids appeared to be more open to the idea, so before another turn of the river hid me from the beach, I could see them once again playing cheerily.

Reassured that everything was alright, I calmed down — not that I was in any panic from the start, only worried that someone would endanger their only life by naively if bravely trying to save our extra one — so I calmed down and prepared to meet my end. But somehow it just never came and eventually the flow cast me ashore further down the river. I only had gulped a bunch of water and got all bruised up from hitting the stone bottom of the river, but overall I was fine.

Still, I thought it was enough for me for that day. With no strength to make a detour by the beach to pick up my clothes, I went straight home as stark naked as I was. Uh, yeah, we swam in the nude too. That stuff doesn’t bother you, right? Because others were bothered back then, as with nothing to cover the bruises all over my body people were staring at me, definitely thinking I picked a fight with boys or something. But I was too tired to care about people’s thoughts. A bigger problem was walking barefoot all the way home. It was about half a kilometer through the wild, then one and a half through the city. Just two kilometers in total, but for a little child it was quite a journey, all the more so when going barefooted. I could barely feel my feet when I finally got home.

And yet, as exhausted as I was, I hurriedly ran on my pained feet to the door to be sure to be the one to open it when after spending all day playing by the river with the other kids my brother returned home by the evening. Remember, he believed I had drowned to death. Now you should have seen his face when I opened the door for him, alive and well. People say “it’s like he saw a ghost” all the time, but for him it actually was like seeing a ghost! Ah, so funny! Totally worth some aching feet and parents scolding us for losing my clothes. ‘Cause, yeah, my brother thought I wouldn’t need them, so he didn’t pick them up either, and the next day we weren’t been able to find them at the beach. Dunno if someone took them or the wind simply blew everything away.

Anyway. Let’s get back to the story of my brother’s death. No, not when I mistakenly though he snapped his neck, but his actual death a little bit later. I promise it’s even more fun. So, I showed him the article I had found and we started reading it together. With our bodies pressed against each other and arms around each other’s backs there was just enough space for us both to lie on the sofa. We read through the article and didn’t really understand most of the specific medical stuff, but we got the basics that it was all normal and healthy and nothing to worry about. That was enough to satisfy our curiosity, so as my brother kept lying leisurely, I started to climb over him, but before I could get off the sofa, he pointed somewhere in the book still open before him and asked with a lot of confusion in his voice:
“What does it mean, on death?”

I stopped in a position sitting on my brother’s back with my legs to his sides, almost like when we were playing horseman, only he didn’t get up on all fours, so my knees were resting on the sofa, and I leaned forward with my chest pressing against his back to look over his shoulder and see what got his attention. He was pointing to the end of the article, which under ‘trivia’ had a line stating one can get an erection on death.
“Yeah, that sounds weird,” I agreed. “Didn’t it say like it was connected to some sort of pleasure or excitement?”
“Besides, doesn’t a body go limp on death?” my brother added, “Why would the peepee…”
Before he could finish his sentence, I took his head in my hands and turned it as swiftly as I could.

Now, I know, such big kids aren’t supposed to try killing themselves just out of curiosity. But that’s because most kids only have one life. As I’ve already mentioned, we were twins, which meant we had two. One was totally expandable. And luckily, at least one of us was a boy and could demonstrate the mysterious death erection. Would be silly if we were both girls: having an extra life, but being unable to put it to use due to such a minor, yet fatal nuance. However, to think of it, if that was the case, we wouldn’t be in this situation — studying an erection of one of us — in the first place. Not to say that it’s hardly the only situation in which an extra life could be of use. So there are all chances I would’ve still be alone talking to you now. It would’ve not even necessary be this me, but even with sex being the same, it really wouldn’t’ve mattered. Right?

Anyway, it’s not the end of the story yet. You see, my childish strength wasn’t enough to actually snap my brother’s neck, and all I could accomplish was turning it very uncomfortably.
“Ugh, it hurts!” he wheezed out.
“Oh, sorry,” I apologized, letting his head go. “I thought it would instakill you.”
“If it was so easy,” he said, rubbing his aching neck, “you would have already seen my death erection on the floor.”
“So dropping you from the stool again won’t work either,” I chuckled.
“You can try strangling me,” my brother suggested, as he turned around under me to face up, getting curious to try the death erection too.
“Let’s try something that doesn’t rely on my strength,” I objected.
“Then go bring a knife,” he said, supporting me by my butt as I got off him and stood up on the floor. “I can cut my wrists with it.”
“Having a knife, wouldn’t it be faster to just cut your throat?” I wondered.
“Either way the blood will make too much mess…” he realized, as he removed the still opened book to the coffee table and then moved up on the sofa to half-sit leaning on an armpad with his arms crossed under his head. “And it won’t be me mom will yell at,” he giggled.
“Well…” I sat down on the sofa again at my brother’s feet; half-turned to him, I pensively twiddled with his toes, as I suggested: “how about a sleeping pill overdose?”
“That sounds easy, but will it still give me an erection?” he wondered. “Cause sleeping pills sound like they will only help me become more limp.”
“Do you have any better ideas?” I asked as I ran out of them.
“I think one can die by dropping a blow-dryer in the bathtub,” my brother said with a bored voice, losing interest by that point.
“But we’ve just had bath,” I replied. “Ugh, who could’ve thought killing a brother can be so difficult!”
“Whatever…” he blew it off, “Cartoons are gonna start soon”.
“Ah, indeed,” I realized, “I’ll go bring some snacks then”.

And so, I left to the kitchen. After all, that death erection didn’t sound like much fun anyway. I only bothered with snapping my brother’s neck in the first place because the movies made it look so easy I actually believed I could do it. But as soon as we realized it wasn’t just a matter of spending an extra life and involved some actual effort, it became not worth the bother. We only kept thinking of a better way to kill my brother to keep the conversation, but even that soon stopped being fun. It could never compete with the soon to start cartoons. Or so it felt at that moment.

I took some cookies, arranging them on a dessert plate, a box of orange juice and two glasses. Anticipating watching the cartoons while having snack, I’ve almost forgot about the whole brother killing topic by the time I returned to the living room. In the meanwhile, my brother turned the TV on and was now watching it half-laying on his side on the sofa. As I put the food on the coffee table, I couldn’t help but notice the encyclopedia was still lying opened on it. I didn’t really want to bother putting it back on its place on the bookshelf right now, but I had to at least close it so that cookie crumbs and juice drops don’t get on the pages. But before I did that, the line about death erection caught my attention again.

“Hey,” I said, showing to my brother. “I think we’ve missed something.”
“What?” he asked leisurely.
“Here,” I pointed at the book. “After ‘on death’ it continues on the next line: ‘especially by hanging’.”
“Oh”, he replied, assuming a proper sitting position to read the line, “we kept thinking of anything but the most obvious!” he laughed.
“Yeah”, I agreed, joining the laugh, “if we just hanged you from the start, you’d already be dead by now!”

It was funny to think we’ve been arguing so hard on how we should kill my brother while the right answer was there in the book the whole time. But by this time we’ve already lost the interest in the death erection if it involved any effort, so instead of thinking how to hang my brother I just closed the book as I had intended and pushed it away to the corner of the table. I sat down on the sofa, took the box of juice and filled the glasses. Then I felt my brother hug me.
“Whoa, you’re cold!” I exclaimed.
“So are you,” he countered.

Indeed, I hadn’t noticed before, but being wet after the bath we had both our bodies cool down way too much. We didn’t really mind each other’s cold touch, he just got me by surprise there. But we didn’t want to catch a cold either, so I asked my brother to go bring some clothes. He returned wearing a yellow T-shirt and gave me another one, which, of course, was as identical to his, as I was to him. Or, to think of it, even more identical, as I don’t have a penis, but that’s a minor detail. The only difference it ever made was determining which of us was to die on that day, which never mattered for us anyway. So yeah, about dying – my brother also brought a rope I recognized as the clothesline from which he must have taken the T-shirts.

“Look what I’ve found,” he said, showing me the rope. “I think we can hang me with it.”
“Why?” I nonchalantly asked as I was putting on my T-shirt (mine being the one that wasn’t currently on him, since we couldn’t tell them apart and didn’t care anyway). “Are you still interested in that death erection thing?”
“Not really,” he answered, “Just stumbled onto a rope that seemed fitting.”
“Well, since you’ve already brought it here,” I shrugged my shoulders and checked the clock: “Seems there’s still a couple minutes to spare before the cartoons start.”
“See,” he concluded, starting to make a noose, “there’s no harm in it anyway.”
In the meanwhile, I lazily got up from the sofa and repositioned the stool — the same one he fell from earlier — to be right under the chandelier.
“Here, you can hang on the chandelier,” I said.
“Thanks,” my brother nodded as he finished the noose.

He has put his neck into it before climbing onto the stool and then tried to tie the other end of the rope to the chandelier. I supported my brother, hugging his legs from the front to make sure he doesn’t fall again — not before he sets up the rope. Dangling from under the T-shirt, his peepee was pressed against my face. It was a funny sensation, but I had to close my eyes and couldn’t see what was going on.
“Oh, come on!” I heard my brother grumble. “I can’t reach it just a mere inch!”
“Why don’t you stand on your tiptoes?” I suggested.
“I already am,” he replied. “Doesn’t help…”
I stepped back and watched my brother get down from the stool.
“So what do we do then?” I wondered.
“I guess we just sit and watch the cartoons”, he sighed a bit disappointed.
“They sound more fun anyway.” I shrugged and returned to the sofa, grabbing a cookie to munch.
“Well, that’s true, but…” he reluctantly took off the noose.
He already made it and even put it on, so I could see how it was a bummer to stop midway. Maybe hoping he would get to use it yet, or maybe just leaving it for later, he didn’t bother untying it and just put it on the table. Following him with my eyes, my gaze fell on the encyclopedia.
“Ah, the book!” I said.
“It’ll wait for later?” he brushed off, thinking I was suggesting we return it to the bookshelf.
“No,” I said, taking the book from the table and putting it on the stool. “Is this thick enough?”
“Okay, that’s worth a try,” my brother nodded, putting the noose back on and once again climbing onto the stool, but now with the encyclopedia under his feet to give him extra height.
Meanwhile, I just finished the cookie and after a sip of juice came up to offer my support again.
“Just make it quick,” I said, as the previous show on TV had already ended and it was just an ad break before the cartoons would start.

“Okay, I’m done here”, my brother reported as he finished tying the rope.
I stepped back, letting his legs go and without further ado my brother made a step towards me. He didn’t say any last words or anything: after all we were not actors in some sappy movie, but just totally ordinary kids acting out of… was it even curiosity? We didn’t care for the death erection anymore, but were just going with the flow. There wasn’t any reason left to kill my brother and we only proceeded because there was no particular reason to stop either. After all it’s not like there was anything to lose but an extra life. So as soon as everything was ready and I wasn’t in the way, he just prosily stepped from the stool onto empty air.

He measured the rope as short as possible, so his feet remained almost at the same height from the floor, which made it look not like a decisive jump, but a totally ordinary step. Even the book didn’t slip from under his feet. I made another step back to avoid my brother accidentally kicking me in his death struggle. However, he was just hanging still with his limbs limp and an unconcerned expression on his face. Of course, it was just like when I was totally calm thinking I was going to die in that river. Even if it was painful, it didn’t bother me because I didn’t know yet I’d have to live the rest of the day with that pain, ha-ha-ha!

So my brother was similarly unbothered about pain, as he knew he was going to die. He hanged so peacefully as if he was simply standing right on the thin air and only the way his feet were dangling down gave off there wasn’t any invisible support underneath. He was only occasionally slightly twitching, the back of his ankles hitting the edge of the stool, and now this seemed to really annoy him. So I stepped closer again and removed the stool from under my brother. In the meanwhile the cartoons already started, although it was still the opening song. So I hurriedly put the book away and positioned the stool so that if I sat on it I could both watch the cartoons on TV and my brother’s death erection right next to me. While the cartoons interested me more at that point, it would be a waste to not see that erection after all. Not a waste of my brother’s life, of course, as it was an extra one anyway, but a waste of his effort of making the noose and everything.

I found though that my brother was facing the TV, so I caught his feet in the air and rotated him to face me instead. He was too busy dying to watch the cartoons anyway, ha-ha-ha. But really, I knew it wouldn’t bother him that he couldn’t see the screen that way. As much as we always were together if possible, we couldn’t avoid rare occasions where it wasn’t, and then we’d fill each other in afterwards on whatever we missed. Of course, this time he wouldn’t be there for me to fill him in… but it also meant he wouldn’t be there to need it, so it all worked out in the end.

To keep the rope’s twisting from rotating my brother back away from me, I had to keep holding him in place, and at first I could do it by simply putting my hands under my brother’s feet like if he was standing on them. The rope still supported most of his weight, so he felt weightless to me, which was rather funny. As I fondled his feet, pleasantly cold from walking barefoot after the bath, I unglued my eyes from the screen for a moment to look up at my brother. There was no sign of erection yet, even though his face was turning blue and his eyes got foggy as he was falling into unconsciousness. Still he seemed to be enjoying my foot massage. I smiled back at him, even though he probably couldn’t see it at that point, and returned to the cartoons.

Funny thing, isn’t it: at the moment I was genuinely more focused on the cartoons, but now I wouldn’t be able to tell what went on in them, all the while I didn’t pay as much attention to my brother dying, and yet can recall it in all these details. I guess it’s because we were watching cartoons every day, so as fun as they were they all blended together, and watching my brother die, while not as exciting by itself, was still a once in a lifetime experience and that alone made it more memorable.

Well, actually it did get more entertaining further on, as my brother couldn’t hold back anymore and started twitching and jerking. I had to release his feet and get away a little to avoid getting kicked. Back then I found his struggle to be annoying, distracting me from the cartoons, but recalling it now I can’t help but giggle at how funny it was. Although there was one aspect that I found amusing even at the time: it was how in any other circumstances it would’ve hurt me to see my brother in such pain, but knowing we were deliberately killing him made me… no, made both of us see it from a totally different perspective. It was just a silly reaction of his body clinging to its life, reflexes not designed to account for being just one of the two. Me and my brother both knew “we” weren’t going to die, only him. Because “we” were just expending one life out of two we had. But there was no way to explain this to his body, so it was kind of hilarious how desperately it was fighting for life, seeing how it was not only hopeless, but also completely unnecessary! Ah, so funny…

What was less funny is the lack of erection displayed by my brother’s penis. It was troublesome to both try to watch the cartoons and keep my eyes on the penis to not miss when it finally gets hard. It made it difficult to properly enjoy the cartoons, so I was hoping that either the erection would appear soon or at least my brother would die quickly even if without it. You know, just to have some sort of conclusion and get it over with, so I could finally focus on the cartoons. But my brother simply wouldn’t die. It was fascinating, really, how long he lasted. Unfortunately this sturdiness was misplaced, as it wasn’t a test of how long he could survive, it was a test of whether dying would give him an erection. And how would we test that without him actually dying? I even started considering if I should find a way to kill him faster to end the misery… ‘cause I did feel pretty miserable sitting there waiting just for it not to lead anywhere. But then I remembered the book recommended hanging, so all I could do was sigh helplessly and keep waiting.

And what do you think, it actually turned out for the better that it took so long, because it was right when the ad break started that my brother’s penis finally showed some sort of reaction. Or maybe it did a little earlier and I only noticed it when not distracted by the cartoons, but anyway it didn’t seem like I missed much, and now I could focus all of my attention on the erection. My brother was almost totally motionless by that point, only displaying an occasional little twitch every now and then as if his body hadn’t yet completely accepted that it was already dead. However, denying any common sense his penis was growing livelier every second! At first it also only twitched a little bit, but then it became harder and harder and rose up to a more horizontal position. I gazed at it intensely, mesmerized by this funny organ growing into something… magnificent. And under what circumstances!

It was as if my brother’s penis was defying his own death… no, rather than that, more like basking in it. My brother’s death was fueling his penis’s joy. Funny thing, I thought I had long since lost excitement to see this death erection thing anymore, but once I was actually observing it, it filled me with the same joy too. As if in trance, I stepped up to my brother and gently clasped my hands around his penis, which was now proudly aiming up at the ceiling. It was so hot and lively despite the rest of my brother being cold and dead, and under the soft and delicate skin it was so hard and tough. I felt like I was touching something absolutely magical. And it was actively filling with magic… until it couldn’t contain any more and burst out in a jet of goo right onto my face.

The smell was positively intoxicating, so I proceeded to jerk my dead brother’s penis in an attempt to milk out more. I eagerly opened my mouth and let the next jet land on my tongue. It was a peculiar taste that I would’ve found yucky normally, but something about the moment made me enamored with it. No more was coming out of my brother’s penis though, so hungry for more I did the crazy thing and took the penis head in my mouth, trying to suck this delightful goo out. And somewhere during all of this, without even realizing it I lowered one of my hands toward my slit and started rubbing it furiously… I don’t know how I even knew to do it, an instinct must have told me to do so. In the end no more gooey stuff came out of my brother’s penis, but at some point his bladder gave up and emptied right into my mouth. But in the weird enchantingly blissful state I was in, it felt like second best after the cum I was seeking for, so I gulped it down gratefully, and it even gave me my own first ever orgasm… which in turn made me pee right onto the carpet! I vaguely remember worrying that mom would scold me…

But really I was in quite a daze after that. I think I just laid down on the sofa to watch the remaining cartoons. It felt like what just happened was some kind of weird dream… no, not the part about killing my brother, that’s a natural part of being twins for us. But to think I drank all kinds of liquids from his penis and somehow was enjoying it? And yet the weird taste remaining in my mouth said it was real. That taste didn’t feel so strangely welcome anymore, so to take it away I doubled down on cookies and juice. Then, after the cartoons ended and my head cleared up a bit, I became curious about the overwhelming sensation I just experienced, so I opened the encyclopedia again — that’s where I learned it was called an orgasm. For the rest of the day I was lying on the sofa masturbating in pursue of more of these orgasms, until I fell asleep from exhaustion. I woke up the next morning in our bed… or was it already my bed at that point?.. although my brother’s corpse was there in my embrace too. Apparently mom found us in the evening when she got home, me sleeping on the sofa and my brother hanging from the chandelier, and brought us to bed.

You’re asking what mom said? Well, I didn’t tell her I drank my brother’s pee, so she thought it was his pee on the carpet, not mine, ha-ha-ha! Oh, about his death? Well, what could she say. Mom sighed, and chuckled, and said it was so like the two of us. Then she said we would have to pretend to morn at the funeral, as people wouldn’t understand. But what I can never understand is what is so difficult there to understand… In all your videogames, you people have extra lives. A totally everyday concept, one would think, nothing alien at all. It’s just that by being twins we were lucky enough to have one for real. That’s all there is to it.

But you’ve listened to this whole story so far. Surely it means you do understand? So maybe it can actually work out for us… and then… wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had twins?