Execution Planet #4 – Dildo of Death – Cathy (F/F/F, snuff?, cons, fist,
mild torture, ScFi)
By CH Makoto - copyright 2009

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Foreword:  This is one in a series of stories I am writing exploring the
erotic potential of death.  The series is based on a parallel dimension
planet Earth similar to ours in most ways, but has traveled a slightly
different road to get where they are.  Compared to this Earth, it is
somewhat in the future.  There is travel to nearby stars, for example.
Politically it’s a free society, no secret police, rule of law prevails, no
travel restrictions, etc.  But, there is one twist; executions of females
are carried out weekly (always on a Monday - ha, ha) and are televised and
recorded, then edited for later sale.  The women, unless guilty of a
capital crime (very rare), are volunteers selected by a lottery.  The age
range of selectees is from 13 to 40 and one can enlist at any time during
that age range.  First enlistment earns the candidate $500,000, paid in
advance and is for 7 years.  The second and third enlistments are for 10
years each, up to the maximum age of 40 upon which the woman is
automatically de-enrolled.  At the second and third enlistments, the
monetary reward doubles, so in theory a woman could collect a maximum of
$3.5 million if she was enrolled for the full 27 years.  If she were to be
selected for termination, her designate would receive an amount equal to
her last payment.  The method of execution is up to the Lottery Board as
they are going for maximum entertainment value and revenue.  The only
promise made to the enlistees is that the execution will not be excessively
painful and that it will be sexually exciting.

I wish to acknowledge the invaluable assistance of my partner in editing,
providing ideas and criticism, but any fault rests on me.  These stories
are not based on real people, living or dead and any similarity is strictly
coincidental.  The sexual behavior in the stories is not something I would
encourage in real life.  This fictional world has no STDs and women can
easily prevent pregnancy.  Unfortunately, our world is not that lucky yet.

Do not try this at home!!  Or you may end up like the girls do.

Feel free to repost this story, but I retain copyright and please attribute
CH Makoto.
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Execution Planet #4 – Dildo of Death – Cathy

Chapter 1 – Prologue to an Execution

Hello everyone, my name is Cathy and today I’m on the chopping block, so-
to-speak.  I’m thirty-seven years old, which is older than most of the
people that are done.  In fact, I didn’t even sign up for the lottery until
I was thirty.  Why, you may ask, did someone wait so long?  The money
potential is much lower when you wait and I obviously wasn’t a type to get
a thrill from risking my life or I would have done it sooner.  To be
honest, I was just bored and when looking into the future didn’t like what
I saw.  I was not interested in marriage and having kids, wasn’t into the
professional life and so it looked to me that all that was likely was that
I would work, collect a salary, get old, retire and die.  Some people even
described me as an uptight anal-retentive bitch.  One day that struck me as
just not all that much fun.  So, I headed on down to the lottery bureau and
enlisted.  It worked like a charm.  Just knowing that I could be terminated
for the entertainment of the unwashed masses seemed to give everyday an
extra spark.

I started doing more things, accepted more invitations to go out and had
sex at the drop of a hat.  Male, female, dog, whatever.  If the request
looked interesting, I said yes, with no holes barred.  I quit my accounting
job and became a stripper, although prior to my volunteering I was shy and
very body conscious.  All my sexual encounters started away from my job, as
I didn’t want my stripping and the other parts of my life to mix.
Stripping to me was not a way to meet people, but more of a way to excite
me and help destroy the old me.  They say people don’t have an aura, but I
think that’s wrong.  Not long after I started stripping, the rate of my
encounters started to grow exponentially.  I must have been giving off some
sort of sign that I was available.  Even women started approaching me and
that had never happened before.

I started watching the executions, which I really hadn’t ever done thinking
that killing someone, even a volunteer, for fun was wrong.  Boy was I
wrong.  The girls seemed to just glow.  I admit that I still wouldn’t watch
the involuntary executions since I still fundamentally thought that one
shouldn’t kill humans.  Given that the vast majority of the executions were
of volunteers, I found it easy to see one almost anytime my partners or I
were up for it.  If it wasn’t live, there was always disk.  I saw all ages,
from thirteen to a few even older than I am, though with the cutoff at
forty those were few and far between.  I was amazed at how truly willing
the victims were.  Even the youngest seem to meet their end in a burst of
passion.  As I passed the age of thirty-five, it occurred to me that I
might not get chosen, but by then the change in me was permanent.

Then, about two months after my thirty-seventh birthday, and not long
before I would have to make the decision to re-enroll in the lottery or
not, I got the notice to report in one week for my execution.  That was ten
days ago now.  I admit that my heart started thumping as I read the notice,
but I became aware that it was almost all from excitement and not from
fear.  My conversion had become complete.  At the bottom of the
announcement was a statement that I had been selected for a special
category execution.  While 99%+ of the selectees have no say in the method
of their demise a few do and I had been selected as one of the ‘lucky’
ones.  I was told that when I reported to the execution center I was to
tell them how I wished to be killed.  It was suggested that I have a few
acceptable methods in mind since if the center personnel did not think my
chosen method would provide sufficient stimulation and visual value to the
audience, I would be told to provide alternatives.  I spent a good deal of
the time remaining to me in research.  I had come up with what I thought
would be a unique and fun way to go.  I had arguments ready if they
objected given that, on the surface, my idea might not meet the
requirements.  In the event, I did not need the arguments.  I told them
what I had in mind, they asked some questions, consulted amongst
themselves, then returned to me and told me that my end would be as
requested.  I had requested that an explosive dildo be the means of my end.
I had provided them a full scenario including the time before the dildo was
inserted, since it probably wouldn’t be long after dildo was introduced to
my pussy that the explosion would happen.  You see I have asked that it
trigger at the same time of my first cum from the dildo, but that as long
as I do not cum, the blast is delayed and they said I would get the
complete treatment as outlined.

It took a few days for the center to construct the execution site and
yesterday I reported to the center to begin my processing.  I was led to a
room, which resembled a normal bedroom, but with two doors.  I was told
that the event would begin at 1600.

At 1600 I enter the room dressed in normal office lady clothes; a pale blue
blouse, which matches my hair color, a short dark gray skirt, slit part way
up the side, nude pantyhose, with an opaque full coverage blue striped bra
and panty set.  I am wearing a pair of light gray pumps, matching my eyes,
with seven-centimeter block heels that I kick off shortly after entering
the room.  I lie down on the bed, close my eyes and raise one leg up to
rest my foot on it.  I know this will allow the cameras to see up my skirt,
but since I am supposed to be alone, it is a natural motion for me.  As
anyone knows who has watched these events, effectively invisible cameras
and microphones are scattered throughout the execution site to provide the
audience with the sights and sounds of the execution from as many
perspectives as possible.  This is the last time I’ll comment outside of
the scenario to prevent anyone from being distracted.

A few minutes later, the laptop on the desk starts to blink a red light and
beep noisily.  I sigh, get up, walk over to the desk and open the incoming
message.

“A sentient jewel, the Zerix Trigger, has been stolen from the National
Museum of Natural History.  It is the only one known to exist and must be
recovered at all costs.  We believe that an off world fencing group has
possession and is planning to sell it to a group from the Spica system.  Go
to 357-2 North 2nd Street, Chicago, investigate and locate the jewel.  We
will take action as appropriate.  End”

I delete the message, and while walking over to my chest of drawers, start
shedding my clothes.  I unzip my skirt and it slides down my legs revealing
the nylons and bikini panties underneath.  I step out of the skirt and
unbutton my blouse, pulling it off my shoulders and discarding it on top of
the skirt.  Reaching around behind me, I unhook my bra and it too is added
to the stack.  My chest is not very big, just a B cup, but as I am only 150
centimeters tall my breasts look bigger than they are.  Their shape is
symmetrical and they are soft and smooth except for my nipples, which
sometimes have a mind of their own.  My areolas are large and brownish,
just slightly darker than my general skin color.  I look at the mirror and
admire what I see; there is no flab or stretch marks anywhere on my body.
My boobs have negligible sag; and they bounce and sway easily.  I have
wide, womanly hips with a pleasingly plump butt and even at my advanced age
I can still see in-between my thighs.  I love my soft, nearly fur-like
shoulder length powder blue hair, which due to a genetic mutation I have
had since birth.

I know that this mission will be extremely dangerous as the Trigger must be
worth billions.  The hazard excites me and I catch myself stroking my
breasts, oh so different from the old me!  I feel my nipples stiffen and
rise from their substantial areola.  I rub my thighs together and the
feeling and sound of the nylon turns me on a bit.  I stop, as I know I
don’t have time to fool around as much as I would like to and open the
second drawer on the chest.  Inside I keep the outfit I wear when I am
called upon by the agency.  It consists of three items.  There is black
body stocking, which is so sheer that it is nearly transparent, but also
reflects nearly no light at all.  Additionally is a head covering to hide
the blue hair that I am so proud of, but might attract a modest amount of
unwanted attention if observed and last a pair of rubber soled slip-on
shoes.  Since I usually wear some sort of heels, these have heels as well,
although only about four centimeters high.  That’s it, no weapons or
anything else.  I have found that the freedom of movement the outfit
provides more than compensates for any loss of accessories.  The agency
will be getting full information as my body itself acts as a sensor and
sending device, while I am encased in the stocking.

I carry the clothes over to the bed, drop them there and push my pantyhose
down to my knees.  I sit on the edge of the bed, remove the nylons, then my
panties, and drop the pair on the floor to join the rest of my office lady
attire.  I think about putting everything away, but decide to do it later,
after the mission.  In truth, I am a bit of a slob.  I lie back on the bed,
start stroking my pussy while I think about, and plan tonight’s assignment.
Low level masturbation helps me relax and think clearly.  I love the smooth
feeling of my slit as I feel it rapidly moisten.  I am hairless below the
neck, partly as that is the style, but mostly because my body hair color
did not match the hair on my head.  I stroke my breasts and cunt, and
think.  I don’t let myself cum as that would take the edge off and with an
operation as hazardous and important as this one I’ll need to be in top
form.

After about an hour or so of petting myself and pondering the assignment, I
commence dressing for the mission.  I slide my legs into the body stocking,
pulling them up until my feet reach the end of the legs.  I stand and
continue drawing the stocking up the rest of me, pulling the crotch tight
against my cunt, inserting my arms into the sleeves, working my boobs into
the torso area and finally getting the turtleneck like top to close around
my neck.  I stretch and settle the outfit smoothly on my body.  I glance
over at the mirror to check on the fit.  It certainly leaves nothing to the
imagination.  My breasts and genitals are clearly visible as the stocking
doesn’t mash them down, but rather form fits itself around them.  It must
be my imagination, but my boobs and slit seem to stick out more than if I
was naked.  It always takes a little getting used to since I’m still a bit
shy, especially when dressed like this.  I slide my feet into the shoes and
fit the bathing cap shaped bonnet over my hair taking care none sticks out.
After a final inspection in the mirror where I notice my buttocks are
nicely cupped by the stocking as well, I head over to the door opposite to
the one I came in from.

I key the address given me by the agency into the door keypad and then step
through the door and into my destiny.

Chapter 2 – Sneaking Around in Nearly Nothing

I find myself in what appears to be the basement of the building.  A
secondary effect of the mutation I have is that I can see quite well in
light that would be pretty dark for most humans; it behaves like a sixth
sense.  In particular, the sense is not always on, although I don’t have
total control over it.  I look around and don’t see anyone.  I suppose that
they don’t expect someone to just appear in the building.  The technology
that sent me here is super secret.  Even the military doesn’t know of its
existence.  As the agency’s top reconnaissance operative, I have one of the
few working models.  I see a stairway leading up to a door and as quietly
as possible, I stride across the floor and up the stairway to the door at
the top, where I stop, crouch, put my ear to the door and listen for sounds
on the other side.  I hear nothing so, just a bit anxiously I slowly open
the door and peer out into the area beyond.  It’s a hallway and there is no
one in sight.  Letting out my breath, which I didn’t realize I had been
holding, I move into the hallway and close the door behind me.  I don’t
have a clue where the Zerix Trigger might be, but I think that they would
not keep it on the ground floor.  It would be too vulnerable there.  I
determine to go upstairs.  Before I had left my room, I had gotten the
plans for the building and memorized them.  There are four floors besides
the basement and I plan on starting my search on the third floor because
that floor will have protection from both above and below.  My first
problem is to get from where I am to the stairway to the second floor,
which is at the other end of the hallway.  This will require me to pass by
the opening to the lobby.  It’s past eight o’clock and the building is dark
inside so my task is easier than it would be if the lights were on.  I
slowly move down the corridor toward the lobby and the stairway on the
other side, keeping close to the wall.  Occasionally my boobs rub against
the wall, which is made of a smooth marble-like material.  My nipples
betray me and poke up, touching the marble that cools them and makes them
hard.  I drag my mind back to the subject at hand and ignoring the
sensations channeling through my breasts continue moving forward.

As I get close to the lobby, I hear voices and footsteps.  I freeze and
plaster myself against the wall as closely as I can.  Two people, women I
think from their voices, carrying torches exit the lobby and move down the
passageway that leads from the lobby deeper into the building.  When
passing by I see they are armed with what looks like assault rifles.  The
extent of my peril comes home to me, my heart starts to pound, and I’m sure
for a second they must hear.  But no, they continue on their way.  I think
of turning around.  No previous mission has put me in the jeopardy that I
am clearly facing here.  I curse the man and the day I was convinced to
join the agency and occasionally carry out reconnaissance missions,
although I will admit most of them have been quite safe.  After a few
minutes, I calm down and decide to carry on, especially when I realize that
I am wet in my naughty bits and it’s not from fright.  I ease my way
forward until I get to the intersection of the hallway and the lobby.

I crouch down and peer around the corner.  The lobby area is dimly lit so I
can clearly see everything.  There are four guards visible and surprisingly
they are all women.  In fact, everyone I’ve seen so far is a woman.  I
wonder if that is significant?  They are all looking toward the front of
the building and seem to be on alert, although their weapons are not at the
ready so they must not be expecting anything immediate.  The Zerix Trigger
must be making them extra careful.  A few comments are heard as they
exchange small talk and I take the opportunity to dash across the opening
stopping on the other side alert to any sign I’ve been detected.  All
remains quiet, so I head on down the hallway to the stairs leading to the
second floor.  I scan the stairway for any signs of trip-wires or other
detectors, then quickly, but quietly make my way to the second floor.

Again, the stairway to the third floor is at the opposite end of the
hallway from where I am.  Damn, are these people trying to make this hard
for me?!  What would they do in case of a fire?  The picture of people
scurrying back and forth down the hallways comes to mind.  They must have
some other means of egress in case of emergency than these cursed stairs.
I find myself gently fondling one of my breasts as I think about the safest
way to get down this hallway.  I just love sneaking around in the dark and
the feel of nylon molesting my body!  About halfway down the hallway is an
intersecting corridor, which seems to have a little light coming from the
center of the building.  As on the first floor, I see two women carrying
guns pass through the intersection, this time heading for the front of the
building.  Perhaps a patrol, but if so they don’t seem very observant,
neither of them so much as glance either direction down the hallway where I
am.  There are seven doors on this side of the intersection and, if I
recall correctly, eight on the other.  Nothing is gained by staying where I
am, so I move out toward the junction, hugging the right hand wall, which
has the fewest doors.  All goes well until, just as I pass the last door
before the other hallway I hear the women returning from their trip to the
front of the building.  I duck into the doorway and press myself against
the door, intending on remaining still and invisible as before.  But just
as I get positioned, someone opens the door!

I know I have to act fast and with minimal noise if I am to escape further
detection.  She has already turned out the room light and fortunately the
woman does not expect me anymore than I her.  I jab an elbow into her just
below her breastbone knocking the wind out of her and causing her to sink
to the floor.  I spy a lipstick case on the desktop within reach, grab it,
jam it into her back and whisper into her ear, “If you wish to live you
will make no sounds.”  Still trying to catch her breath she freezes, and
then dips her head in acquiescence.  “Put your hands behind your back,” I
order.  She does as she is told.  Here I have a further bit of luck.  She
is wearing a dress with a cloth sash at the waist.  I strip it from her and
use it to bind her arms, forearm to forearm.  I push her down onto her
stomach and close the door.  I turn back to my captive, kneel down and lift
up her dress.  More luck!  She is wearing thigh-high nylons.  I pull off
her shoes, one of the nylons, and her panties.  I push the panties into her
mouth, securing them in place with the thigh-high.  That will keep her
quiet for the time being.  I remove the other one and use it to tie her
ankles together.  I sit down next to her and while stroking her ass (I’m
such a pervert), contemplate my next move.  I discover my hands are shaking
and my heart is pounding.  I’ll have to remain here for a short while to
calm down before I resume my search.  I ask the woman “Is anyone expecting
you?”  Still rattled herself I suspect, she shakes her head no.  That
further relaxes me and as I look at the girl, I decide to have a little fun
before I go.

She looks to be in her early twenties with strawberry blonde hair, light
blue eyes and a pale, smooth complexion.  I want to see more so I unzip her
dress and pull it down off her shoulders, exposing her back.  Very pale
indeed.  I unhook her bra, which is strapless and then roll her onto her
back.  I tug the front of her dress down below her bra and pluck the bra
off.  She has smallish, but perfectly formed breasts, with small pinkish
areolas.  Her boobs stand upright and their nipples demand attention.  I
grasp one of them and it instantly springs to attention.  Her eyes are wide
as they shift between her own breasts and me.  I tell her, “Have no fear;
I’m not going to hurt you, I’m just going to play with you a little.  Relax
and enjoy.”  Her eyes widen even more from the implication, but next her
whole face softens and she tries to smile.  It makes me glad that she
doesn’t look like she’s going to hate my touch.  I drag her dress up and
reach down in-between her legs.  Her eyes close and she opens her thighs
for me.  She is slightly hippy, but her legs are smooth and beautifully
formed.  My hand slides up her thigh reaching the junction of her legs and
I begin to probe her cunt.  Strawberry blonde is its hair color too and
while trimmed very short, she still has some pubic hair making her an
exception these days.  It fits her well and certainly hides none of her
charms.  I slide a finger amid her cunt lips and find she is already wet.
She opens her thighs further still, indicating her willingness for me to
press on.  She clearly has had this done to her before.

I start fondling a breast with one hand while the other continues sliding
up and down her cunt.  At the touch of her breast, her eyes open slightly
to watch.  I cup her breast in my hand and squeeze gently.  My finger at
the other end finds her clit and starts circling it, rubbing mostly from
the sides and then occasionally making direct contact.  Her nostrils flare
as her breathing gets deeper.  Just as she seems to be getting used to my
ministrations, I move away from her clit and slide a pair of fingers deep
into her quim.  Her eyes pop open for a second, close to slits and she
lifts her butt from the floor offering access that is even more intimate.
I pinch her nipples softly, first one, then the other, meanwhile leisurely
sliding my fingers in and out of her honeypot.  Still finger fucking her, I
move my thumb to get contact with her clit and commence bringing her to
orgasm.  Her breathing becomes deeper still and she pushes back at my hand
in her cunt.  My other hand stops its pinching and returns to fondling,
which she clearly likes as she shoves her chest up as well.  She’s getting
wetter and soon small noises accompany my fingers as they plunges into her
cunt.  Suddenly her breathing stops momentarily, she stops thrusting
against me and stiffens, holding everything in place for several seconds
while squirming just a little, afterwards relaxing and resting her butt on
the floor again.  I find that her orgasm has affected me as well.  My
nipples are standing up against the nylon of the body stocking and I can
tell I’m also damp in-between my own legs.  I’d love to give her a chance
at me, but I know that wouldn’t be safe.

I realize it’s time for me to leave and after giving her a minute or so to
recover, I slide my fingers out of her cunt and smile at her.  “Was that
good for you?”  I ask.  She colors slightly, and then nods yes.  I slide
her across the floor to near her bed and roll her onto her stomach again.
I retrieve the bra, run it under her arms, bend her legs at the knees, fit
the strap under the nylon binding her ankles, pull the ends together and
hook the bra straps.  This brings her ankles up near her arms, in a hog-
tie.  She won’t be going anywhere for awhile.  I bend over; pat her butt
and say, “It was fun.”

Then I move to the door, listen for a few seconds, open it slightly, step
out into the hallway and lock the door noiselessly behind me.  It won’t
stop her from leaving, but she won’t be accidentally discovered either.  I
turn right, check that the coast is clear, and make my way with no more
interruptions to the stairway leading to the third floor where I think the
Zerix Trigger should be located.  Again, after examining the stairs for
traps placed to catch the unwary I move up the stairway to the third floor.

Upon nearly reaching the top of the stairway, I kneel down on a step, raise
my head, and peer down the darkened corridor.  If I am right about this
being the floor where the Zerix Trigger is, the room may have guards
posted.  But, I see nothing.  The hallway is empty and doesn’t even have
another hallway intersecting it.  I count eleven doors, six on one side and
five on the other.  From where I kneel, they all look identical.  I can’t
just walk around trying doors, which would certainly lead to my detection
and I can’t stay where I am.  As usual when I need to think clearly I start
petting myself, softly massaging my breasts through the ultra thin material
covering them.  Enjoying the feelings, I examine the hall once again.  I
note that one of doors has a plaque on it and decide to see what it says.
One blessing is that it’s only the second door down the left side.
Regretfully abandoning my breasts, I carefully walk up to the door.  Art
Gallery is what the plaque says, I try the knob and surprisingly find it
unlocked.  Expecting a trap, but resolved to explore the room I open the
door and step inside, gently closing the door behind me.

The light inside is dim, but I can see everything clearly.  It really does
look like a gallery.  There are paintings and photographs on the walls and
sculpture on stands scattered about the room.  I see nothing that looks
like it could be or hide the Zerix Trigger.  I stroll around the room
looking for anything that might indicate the Trigger is here, but find
nothing suspicious.  It looks like a dead end.  I return to the door, grip
the knob and glance back for a last sweep of the room.  That’s when I
notice that one of the statues is not precisely centered on its stand.  All
the others are.  For some reason my reconnaissance sense is aroused and I
go over to the statue and examine it closely.  Nothing seems out of the
ordinary, so I pick it up and look at the bottom.  That too looks normal.
Sighing in dismay, I replace the statue.  When I do, I hear a sliding sound
and upon investigation, I see a small panel, just above the skirting has
opened in the wall opposite to the door.  I walk over to it, stoop down and
see a short, maybe four or five meter long tunnel.  I lie on my belly and
start wiggling my way through.  It’s a close fit, but ample for my body
size.  The other end is blocked, but there is a button in the wall.
Without hesitating, I push it.  The panel behind me closes, giving me a
start and then a second later the panel in front of me opens.  There, not
more than four meters away is a stand with a glass case on it.  Inside is a
glowing globe, maybe ten to twelve centimeters in diameter.  There are
bands of some exotic looking metal criss-crossing it.  The light coming
from it takes my breath away, every color in the rainbow seems to waft out,
fade away and then return.  It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen in my
life.  It MUST be my target.  Exhilaration fills my mind.  I’ve done it!!
I’m not the best for nothing.  Throwing caution to the wind, I slide the
rest of the way out of the tunnel and stand up.

Chapter 3 – Found and Captured

I’m in the room!  Except for the light coming from the Zerix Trigger, the
room is pitch-black.  I slowly, stealthfully move toward the case enclosing
the Trigger.  Once I’ve positively indentified that the object is, in fact,
the Zerix Trigger, my job is done and I can leave.  That is if I can.  I’m
not more than a couple of short steps away from the Trigger when the floor
gives slightly and I hear a soft click.  A spotlight flashes on and as if I
am a butterfly impaled on a pin, I am illuminated by the light!!  A whip
flies out of the darkness and forcefully wraps itself around my waist, then
is pulled off.  I look down expecting to see a large red welt although
except for a mild nip, I had felt nothing.  What I see is that my body
stocking has been torn away, but that my skin looks untouched!?  Before I
can move, several other whips start to pummel me, each giving me a sharp
nip and tearing off more and more of the body stocking, but not damaging my
skin.  I’m caught in the web of leather flying at me from every direction
and all I can hope for is that the agency launches a rescue mission in time
to save me.  In the mean time, my attention is focused on the whipping I am
getting.  The whips’ targeting is nearly perfect, hardly ever getting the
same place twice, except for my breasts, which come in for more than their
fair share of attention, and one whip that manages to find its way right
in-between my legs impacting with laser precision on my genital slit.  That
whip’s blow is sufficient to slide between my labial lips and contact my
clitoris with just enough force to influence my state of sexual excitement,
which had dropped to zero with my discovery.  Soon I have been whipped
naked except for my shoes and the cap over my hair, but the whipping
doesn’t stop with that.

I look down; see my breasts get dented and spring back, and my nipples
standing upright as though begging for attention, which the whips seem glad
to provide.  I feel the smooth leather sliding through my pussy and the
collisions with my clit.  In spite of my need to escape, I am getting more
and more turned on and make no move to run away.  I just stand there
drowning in the sensations and the sounds of the whips flying through the
air and the wet, squishy noises coming from my cunt.  As I shudder from my
first orgasm, I can feel my hands ball into fists, and my toes curl in the
shoes.  The beating continues as, I am ashamed to say, do the orgasms.  I
cum a second, a third, a forth, a fifth and then a sixth time.  I can feel
the fluids from my pussy running down my legs.  It becomes hard to stand
and when I cum for the eighth time, my legs can no longer hold me up.  I
crumple to the floor and lose consciousness.

I slowly wake up and realize that I have been captured and bound.
Encircling my ankles and wrists are what appear to be one-piece bands of a
soft and stout material.  Soft, since they are not cutting into my arms or
legs and stout because I find myself suspended a meter or so from the
floor.  Attached to the bands are segmented cables of some metal the other
ends of which disappear into the darkness around me.  I am in the center of
a beam of light that extends for a couple of meters around me.  The only
thing I can see other than the cables is a small table with what looks like
a dildo on it.  My work for the agency has made me quite flexible and
fairly strong for my size and while I feel a little elongated from the
suspension, I am not uncomfortable.  I was stripped before my mounting as I
am totally nude and with my legs spread as they are, I am highly vulnerable
to whatever they may have in mind.  I can see no one, but being in the
light pretty well blocks seeing into the darkness at all.  At least they
decided not to kill me out of hand so I still can hope the agency gets here
first as I am certain whoever captured me has no intention of letting me
out of here alive.

I hear a door open, then close again.  The sound of someone in high-heels
becomes audible, grows louder and then I see a woman walk into the light
where my head is.  She walks up to about half a meter short of my head,
stops and starts examining me with her eyes.  I do the same to her.  I am
amazed by what I see.  She looks as far from a criminal as one could.
She’s dressed as I had been just a few hours ago, a typical office lady
outfit.  She’s got on a white blouse, black skirt slit slightly as mine
was, black pantyhose along with a pair of ankle-strap high-heels.  With my
head down, I can see up her skirt and see that she’s not wearing any
panties, which allows me to clearly make out her hairless pussy.  The seam
of her pantyhose looks as if it is trying to invade her genitals.  Her
pussy lips protrude slightly on each side.  She appears to be taller than I
am, although that’s hard to tell from this angle, and has natural blonde
hair, I think.  Definitely younger than I am; her boobs jut out a good deal
from her chest and overall she looks very well built and I think she is
quite pretty.  A belt around her waist catches my attention.  The front
half has what looks like quite a few feathers sticking out.  It really
doesn’t seem to be a fashion accessory as it doesn’t go with the rest of
the outfit, but I don’t have a clue as to its use.  We finish our
inspections together, lock eyes and she says, “Who are you?  What are you
doing here?  Who sent you?”

I decide that there is no point in playing too dumb and so I say nothing.
She sighs and says, “Are you going to be difficult?  OK, let’s start easy. 
Who are you?”

“My name is Cathy and I’m an office lady.”

“An office lady?  So, Cathy, how do you explain your presence here dressed
in a body stocking and basically nothing else if you’re just an office
lady?”

“It’s just a hobby of mine.  I dress up as you have seen and go sneaking
around darkened buildings for fun.  It’s exciting trying not to be caught.”

“Well, you got caught!  Is tying up people and molesting them part of the
hobby too?  It is all too expertly done to be something you’re doing as a
lark.  I’ll ask you again, what were you doing in the room with the Zerix
Trigger and who sent you?!!”

“I was just admiring the beauty of the jewel.  Is it called the Zerix
Trigger?”  I replied as sweetly as I could, going for cute.  I ignore her
comment about the person I had tied up and the question of who sent me.

She sighs again and says, “I can see this is not going to be easy.  Cathy,
I’ll tell you something now.  You are not going to leave this room alive.
We don’t call it the chamber of death for nothing.  If you are willing to
honestly answer my questions, I’ll kill you as quickly and painlessly as
possible.  If not, well, you’ll see.  So, are you going to cooperate?”

To buy as much time as possible I act as though I am considering her offer.
Then I too sigh and answer, “I have nothing further to say.”

“We’ll see about that, Cathy.”  She reaches to her belt and pulls out a
feather.  The end is very fine; it is about four centimeters long and looks
needle sharp.  My eyes widen as she steps up next to me and stabs the end
of the needle into my left breast.  Gripping the base of the feather she
slowly, steadily rams the needle full depth into my boob.  I yelp, pull my
head up and look at my breast to see the feather waving out the side.  A
few seconds later a second feather joins the first accompanied by another
yelp from me.  The needles are so sharp they go in quite easily with
actually very little pain.  My cries are more from the surprise than the
pain.  A third feather follows immediately and my left breast has three
feathers now surrounding the nipple on three sides.  I seem to feel some
warmth coming from the insertion spots and I peer at my boob questioningly
although I can see nothing other than the feathers, no sign of blood even.

My inquisitor notices my expression and gives out a slight giggle.  “Ah,
you noticed that have you?  Each of these needles has a small amount of a
powerful aphrodisiac.  Soon your sexual arousal will become uncontrollable.
You will do anything to cum and as you can see there is no way that you
will be able to satisfy yourself.  You’ll beg to tell me anything you know,
if only I’ll make you cum.  Soon, very soon, I’ll have it out of you,
Cathy, and I won’t even need to cause you any real pain.  But, you can
still avoid the humiliation of begging me to let you talk and experience an
easy death.  Just talk now, not much of the drug is in you yet.”

“I will never tell you anything.  I will never beg for release.”  I said
bravely, hoping that my vast sexual experience will come in good stead, at
least long enough to be rescued.

“OK, you asked for it, just remember that when you starting dripping from
your pussy and whining for my touch.”  With that said she pulls three more
feathers from her belt and drives them into me, one just above my belly
button, one just below and one a few centimeters above where my slit
begins.  She reaches back to her belt and pulls out three more.  My eyes
follow and it hardly looks like she has removed any at all.  These three go
into my right breast more-or-less matching the ones in my left breast.  I
am beginning to feel the first effects of the drug.  My body is starting to
feel warm all over and while I don’t feel anything specific in my genitals
yet, I have a heightened awareness of their existence.  Three more feathers
are thrust into me, one in each boob and another one into my abdomen.  That
makes twelve.  I can see the feathers wave about as I squirm a little with
each one introduced into my body.  She stops inserting more for the moment,
steps back and admires her handiwork.  “How are you feeling?” she asks.

I think about not answering at all or at least not telling her the truth,
but I decide that as long as my answers do not betray the agency I will
both answer and tell the truth.  I turn my head, look her in the eyes and
then wait a few seconds while I sort out my reaction to the aphrodisiac.
“My body is warm and is starting to tingle all over.  While I can’t see it,
my pussy feels like it is puffing up and my clitoris is starting to throb a
little.  I suspect that I’m lubricating up pretty good and I can sense my
vagina and anus spasmodically contracting a small amount.  I would say your
drug is having the desired effect.”

She looks surprised at what I said.  Maybe I’m the first to be so candid
with her.  She pulls at her lower lip for a moment and then makes her mind
up about something.  “I like what you said, Cathy.  I’ll still get the
information I need and you will still have to die in the end, but we might
be able to have some fun on the way,” is what she says.  I soon find out
what she has in mind.  She walks down my leg and ducks under my restraining
cable moving forward toward the juncture of my thighs.  She reaches out and
slips her finger in-between my pussy lips, sliding it up and down from my
love button to the entrance to my vagina.  From the sounds of it, I am
right about being good and wet.  I hadn’t realized how excited I have
become as I nearly cum from her first touch.  She takes my clit hood
between her fingers, rolls my clitoris between them for just a second, and
then plunges three fingers into my vagina.  My vagina clamps down on her
fingers, my body shudders and shakes as an orgasm hits me hard.  I am
moaning and panting as my body barely moves down off the high.  “I guess
the drug is working,” she quips and pulls her fingers out of my now sopping
pussy.

She pulls another feather from her belt and asks me, “Where should this one
go?”

“Do you have to put in another?  I’m feeling high as a kite now.”

“Yes, I think you’ll need a few more before you’re ready to tell me what I
want to know.  Or do you want to tell me now?”

I shake my head no.  She smiles wickedly, holds up the feather and says,
“Then where?  Or do you want more than one?”

I hesitate a moment and decide that since I probably am going to die I
should get the most from this experience.  I answer, “I will take your
challenge.  I would like seven more; one more in each breast, one in each
nipple, one in each of my labial lips,” here I hesitate a moment, “and one
in my clitoris.  And I still won’t talk.”

My executioner smiles widely and replies, “Your sexual reserves are
amazing.  Twelve feathers generally has my victims babbling like babies and
the highest anyone ever got to before losing control was fifteen and she
was nearly incoherent with the twelve you already have in you.  Not only
can you speak, you’re asking for more.  You’re a brave woman to accept such
a challenge.  OK then, here goes!!  By the way, my name is Mary.”

Mary ducks under my body and appears next to my torso.  Smiling still she
unbuttons her blouse, removes it and her bra.  A pair of magnificent tits
are presented for my viewing pleasure and a pleasure it is.  They are large
and soft looking, with hardly any sag.  She presses the feathered needle
she had removed from her belt before into my right breast, slowly as usual,
but possibly more gently as well.  Pulling another one from her belt, she
shoves it into my left breast.  Fourteen in me now and the drug caused
sensations are so intense that I think a breeze across my cunt would cause
me to climax.  Mary starts rolling my right nipple in-between her thumb and
forefinger and it stiffens right up.  As I am about to cum from the
stimulation she stops and whispers, “This will send you right over the
top.”  I stare fascinated as she holds the nipple upright, brings the
feathered needle to it, and slowly, so very slowly thrusts the needle
vertically through the center of my nipple.  The sensation of it popping
through the skin of my nipple triggers the promised orgasm.  Somehow,
through my squirming body, bouncing and heaving chest she continues to
impale the nipple.  As soon as the right one is done she moves on to the
left one and just a few seconds later the exquisite pain and pleasure
causes more cumming, squirming, panting and moaning.  I feel a steady flow
of liquid out of my vagina, along my butt crack, and I can hear it splash
down on the floor.

Mary straightens up, looks at my sweaty, twitching body and asks, “Are you
ready to talk, or should I put in the rest?”

I don’t know from what reserves I get the strength, but between the pants,
I get out, “Not… ready… to… talk… yet…  Please add the rest.”  I understand
that by the time she is finished with me and I have a feather standing out
of my clitoris I will have lost my ability to not answer her questions and
I will tell her everything I know.  I think she knows it too as she gives
me a triumphant smile, ducks under my body and again reappears in-between
my legs.  Without further ado, she stretches one of my labial lips slightly
and gradually pierces it.  I feel rather than see it go all the way through
the lip.

As Mary captures the other lip, she says, “If I pierce it slowly enough, a
full dose of the drug is absorbed.  We wouldn’t want you to miss out now,
would we?”  While she is talking, she is leisurely advancing the needle
though the lip.  She aims the feathers so they cross in front of my cunt
and the needles out the other side, somewhat toward my anus so that they
won’t stick me in the thighs.  I experienced a couple mini-cums from the
labial piercing, but nothing like what my nipples gave me, but plenty
enough to keep me moaning, panting, and squirming trying to get the
sensations under some constraint.  Eighteen feathered needles in me with
one more to go.

“Last chance to talk while still under some control,” Mary says as she
slowly fingers my vagina right up to my cervix.

Writhing around on her finger I shake my head no and gasp out, “I’d… rather
have… it in me… when I talk… then… I’ll… have done… my… best…”  I apologize
to the agency in my head, but there is only so much a person can take and
I’ve hit my limit.

Mary nods, pulls out another feathered needle and lays it on my lower
abdomen.  She begins to peel the hood away, exposing my clitoris.  She
comments, “Too bad you haven’t had your clitoral hood removed, with that
sensation dampener removed sex is beyond belief.”  Mary picks up the
needle, my heart starts really pounding and I raise my head as far as I can
so I can see.  Looking over the field of feathers across my torso, I can
clearly see my love button as Mary unhurriedly brings the point closer and
closer to the target.  I realize that contrary to what she did with my
pussy lips, she is going to insert the needle just as she did with my
nipples, the long way.  I am panting as fast as I can and am trying to hold
as still as possible, I find that I really don’t want her to miss.

The point of the feathered needle finally touches my clit.  Mary looks up
at me and at a snail’s pace plunges the needle into my clitoris, the most
concentrated spot of nerve endings on the female body.  Instantaneously
after skin break through, I cum and keep cumming as the point is
infiltrated millimeter by millimeter into my body.  I moan, I scream, I
nearly pee myself as the sensation keeps building and building.  All an
orgasm seems to do is prepare my body for the next one.  I look down and
see the needle is only half way in. Oh, my poor love-button!  The slight
overwhelms me and my next orgasm snaps something in me and I lose all
semblance of control just as she said I would.  I hear myself start to beg
her to both stop and go on at the same time.  I scream out that this is the
greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.  Thrilling emanations originate
from the needle in my clitoris and travel to the rest of the feathered
needles I am pincushioned with, intensifying the sensations.  Mary
continues agonizingly slowly pushing the needle into my clitoris, never
changing her pace as I thrash about, cumming and screaming at the top of my
lungs.  I feel fluid freely running out of my vagina, which I would have
said was not possible before today.  I don’t know why I don’t pass out.  At
long last, the feather is in to its full four centimeters.  Mary releases
the feather and waits for me to calm down a little so she can begin her
interrogation.  The feather stands upright, moving slightly as my clitoris
twitches.  After a few minutes Mary asks, “Are you ready to answer my
questions now?”  The smile on her face leaves no doubt what she thinks my
response will be.

I nod, take a few more deep breaths and ask a question of my own, “Will…
you tell me… how you intend… to kill me?”

Mary points at the dildo sitting on the table.  “There is the dildo of
death.”  I must have looked puzzled for she continues, “It’s a specially
designed nearly sentient dildo.  Once I insert it into your vagina and
switch it on, the rest is automatic.  About twelve centimeters up the tube
an umbrella of material will fasten to your vulva.  Then the dildo will
widen, start vibrating, wriggling and plunging in and out of your pussy.
It’s a very smart device, and will tune its behavior to the response of
your cunt.  The outside surface of the gadget is porous and absorbs some of
the vaginal secretions of every girl it has been thrust into, which has
made it more effective over time.  When it detects an orgasm has occurred
the internal program will trigger an explosive charge that will send a
small titanium dart through the top of your vagina and deep into your
heart.  You will feel very little sensation, but you will know it has
happened.  Death will follow in a few minutes.”

I cold spike of fear runs through me and I shiver in spite of my exertions
and the effects of the drug.  I would never expect a woman’s best friend to
be the instrument of my death.  How ironic.

She flicks the feather in my clit and in spite of the fear her description
causes me, I have another small orgasm.  “Of course, if you can prevent
yourself from cumming, the dildo won’t explode and you won’t die, but with
aphrodisiac running through your veins I don’t think that’s very likely, do
you?  Changing the subject entirely, are you ready to start talking?”

I take a deep breath.  My head is still swimming and the sensations are
nearly as strong as ever.  My clitoris throbs around the needle in it, I
can see the feathers sticking out of my nipples and I realize that I am
ready to give answers to whatever questions she may have.  I nod my head
again and say, “What do you want to know?  I am ready to tell what I can.”

Mary slides a couple fingers back into my pussy, carefully avoiding the
feather sticking out of my clitoris.  I can’t believe how good it feels to
have something in my pussy and glance over at the table with the dildo of
death on it.  Mary follows my eyes and says, “It feels good doesn’t it?  As
soon as I finish my questioning I promise that device will find a home in
your cunt and I will leave you in peace to meet your end.”  She stirs up my
insides a little bit and asks her first question, “Why were you here
tonight?”

I respond truthfully.  “I was ordered to this building with a
reconnaissance mission, the objectives of which were to find and verify the
authenticity of the Zerix Trigger.  The organization ordering the mission
had reason to suspect the Zerix Trigger was here awaiting off-world
shipment.”

Mary unconsciously flicks the feather in my clitoris and I nearly pull my
legs off in response.  I cum strongly again and my vagina clamps down on
her fingers.  I start panting once more.  “Oops, sorry, I’ll try not to do
that again,” she says and then adds a third finger to the ones already in
me.  I am surprised how easily they fit and I catch myself shoving back at
her hand.  “Soon, soon,” she coos.  “I am also wondering why you?  You
really don’t seem the secret agent type.”

“I’m actually not most of the time.  I really am an office lady.  My
regular work is for Northside Electronics.  I seem to have a talent for
reconnaissance work and I really do like sneaking around dark buildings
with nearly nothing on.”  Again, I answer truthfully and completely.  “You
sure have a nice technique with your fingers in my pussy.  They’re keeping
me excited, but coherent.”

“Well, I’m in no hurry and you’ve been a lot of fun for me.  No cursing me
to hell or other stupid attempts to defy me.”  She turns thoughtful for a
moment.  “By-the-way have you ever been fisted?”  I shake my head no and
Mary follows up with, “Would you like to try it before we resume
questioning?  I only have one more and then I’ll replace my hand with the
dildo and take my leave.”

I think about just for a few seconds, figure it will buy some time and
might even be fun, and then say, “Sure, give it a try.  I can’t think of a
better time.”

Grinning, Mary partly extracts her other fingers, then slides a forth
alongside them and sinks back in to her knuckles.  At the same time, she
reaches out to the needle in the nipple of my right breast and rocks it
back and forth a little.  “How is it?”  My boob tingles from the
stimulation and I find her four fingers fit almost as easily as three do.

“It feels great.  I don’t often have an orgasm from penetration, but this
might be an exception.”  I feel Mary fit her thumb into her palm and slide
it into me.  She then starts to twist her hand and shove.  I try and relax
as much as I can and return her pressure.  I feel the knuckles begin to
slide into me, and then with a splashing sound her hand is in me up to the
wrist.  For a few seconds Mary does nothing, and then I feel her fingers
close to form a fist.  She looks at me and I nod for her to continue.  I’ve
never been so full, but my vagina in its current state accommodates her
easily.  The sensation of a round object in my vagina is delightful.  Mary
starts twirling her fist and gently punches the top of my vagina.  On the
second or third cycle I cum, thrusting myself against her and swallowing a
few centimeters of her forearm.

She continues fisting me and stirs my nipple needles, first one breast then
the other.  The feeling is heavenly.  I wish I had met Mary sooner and in
better circumstances.  “Last question.  What organization sent you on your
mission?”

I have determined to give accurate information right to the end.  I did my
best for the agency, but it wasn’t quite enough.  I start to say, “You may
not have heard of the agency I work for, but I know it does a lot of
special ops and I have done fifteen to twenty recon missions for them.
They are called…”  Just then, a loud thump followed by some shaking is
heard on the roof above us.  Mary looks up surprised and at the same time a
voice is heard, “Mary, this is Dagmar.  We are under attack.  They have
landed on the roof and broken through the front door.  We estimate 50+.”

“Dagmar, this is Mary.  Order an emergency evacuation.  Leave the Trigger. 
We’re more likely to escape if they get what they came for.  Cathy here has
made it clear to me that we may have bitten off a bit more than we can chew
and I think it’s best to cut our losses and run.”

“Roger, orders received and they will be executed.  Good luck.”

“Good luck yourself.”

Chapter 4 – The End and the Beginning

While Mary is talking, she extracts her hand from my cunt and puts her
blouse back on.  She looks over at me and says, “Looks like the cavalry has
arrived, but they may be too late for you.”  She takes the dildo off the
table and shoves it into my pussy.  It’s got a fairly wide diameter, but
with Mary’s hand having just been removed, it slides in easily.  She pushes
a button on one of the cuffs around my ankles and I find myself falling to
the floor.  The cables from my wrists wrap themselves around my torso
trapping my arms behind me.  The ones around my ankles connect together
then shorten until cable is about a meter long.  She reaches down, rolls me
onto my stomach, reaches between my legs and pushes the button on the
dildo.  I feel some soft stretchy material land on the lips of my vulva.
There is some fast acting glue on the fabric and I feel my labial lips
pulled snuggly around the dildo.  So far, nothing else has happened.

Mary pats my head and says, “In thirty seconds or maybe a little longer,
the dildo will have attuned itself to you and will start.  That door there
is very solid.  This chamber is soundproof and will be difficult to get
into once they decide to try.  I wish things could be other than they are;
you seem to be a nice person.  Good luck and remember to try not to cum.”

“You know with the drug in me I’ll not be able to hold out more than a few
minutes.  Even without the aphrodisiac the heightened sensitivity from our
playtime might make it equally difficult to resist,” I respond.  “I will
admit having the time of my life tonight, I hope you escape and I wish that
we could meet again.  Good luck!!”

Mary waves and turns to leave.  Did I see a tear there?  I suspect that I
will never know.  Just as Mary fades into the darkness the dildo kicks into
action.  While lying on the floor and getting my final preparation, I had
come down off my extreme high.  However, I’ve got nineteen doses of the
strongest aphrodisiac I’ve ever been exposed to in me.  The dildo starts
with just low speed, but penetrating vibrations and that alone tells me I
am in trouble as my arousal starts spiraling up once more.  I flip myself
over onto my back and try to raise my legs up to grip the handle with my
feet and pull the dildo out.  I manage to get a hold on it, but it won’t
budge.  The dildo expands, giving my vagina a delightful stretch and starts
wriggling causing my feet to return to the floor, as I lift my rear up into
the air in excitement.  I grasp that unless the agency gets here very, very
soon I’m doomed.  I already am beginning to join in with the dildo and make
my final orgasm truly special.  I squeeze my thighs together and rub them
back and forth, which has the effect of moving the needle in my clit and
nearly causing me to climax.  Just in time, I manage to pull my legs apart
and I peak just short.  It would be easier to hold out if I was still
suspended.  I have scarcely escaped cumming and the dildo now starts to
slide in and out of my cunt.  The friction on the walls of my vagina is
exquisite, my smell and the noises caused by the dildo of death fucking me
steadily raise my level of arousal.  One foot then the other comes off the
ground as I try to keep my thighs apart and avoid the fatal peak.  It’s no
use though for as hard as I try, I can feel an orgasm approaching and my
bondage only increases the level of excitement.  As the dildo does its
deadly work my exhilaration increases with each passing second.  The
simulation from the dildo, the visual excitement from the feathers sticking
out all over me and the thrill caused by the drugs in me brings me ever so
close to the brink.  I finally decide that I’d rather know when I’m going
to cum as opposed to it surprising me from some random last straw.  Trying
to hold out to the last won’t make more than a few seconds difference
anyway.  So, in anticipation of my last orgasm, I roll partly onto my side,
bend my knees and bring my thighs together.  The aptly named dildo of death
must have detected my surrender and redoubles it own efforts.  The
wriggling intensifies; the thrusting in and out becomes both faster and
deeper.  I’m panting like a dog in 100 degree weather, I hear the sounds of
my pussy making love to the killer, and I’m sliding my thighs across each
other providing near continuous movement of the feathered needle in my
clitoris.  Over the falls I go, squirming as much as my bondage allows,
moaning and screeching sounds I didn’t know I could make, still sliding my
thighs together and tweaking my clit.  Then suddenly the sounds from my
genitals cease.  The dildo has stopped moving!!!  Just as I think that this
must be it, I feel something push on the walls of my vagina and in what
feels like slow motion, I feel an object traverse my abdomen and lodge in
my chest.  As Mary said, I don’t feel much, but also as she said I can tell
my heart has been speared.  I roll over onto my back.  I don’t feel any
pain; however, I know that my heart no longer beats.  It’s very curious, it
has only been a short while since my heart stopped and I understand I am
dead, yet I still feel fine.  My bonds released when the dildo of death
triggered and I raise my hands to my breasts and touch the feathers there,
which even now causes some thrill.  I shiver a little, my vision starts to
fade, and yet I’m still playing with the feathers Mary inserted in me.
Soon, my hands fall away from my boobs and I start twitching and squirming
uncontrollably.  My last thoughts are of Mary and the pleasure of my last
night.

I come to and wondering if this is the afterlife, I sit up and look around.
I am nude as a dead person should be, but the room looks a lot like the one
I was in at the beginning of my scenario, although it only has one door.
Needless to say, I am highly confused.  The events as I recall them were
nearly as I had planned, although I hadn’t put the meeting with the girl on
the second floor in the scenario I submitted and the dildo didn’t explode
at the end, but still I’m not supposed to be alive and it feels like I am. 
I am baffled by this turn of events.  I’m sure my heart did stop, so how I
ended up here is mighty obscure.  There is a knock at the door and then two
men walk in.  I grab the sheet and cover myself, then stare at them
perplexed.  One of them is the chairman of the local Lottery Board who
administered my termination (or rather should I say ex-termination?) and
the other man I didn’t know.  They sit down in a couple of the chairs and
the chairman looks at me and says, “I suppose you’re pretty mystified and
have a lot of questions.  So, fire away, and we’ll do our best to enlighten
you.”

My questions start tumbling out, “Am I actually alive?  Who is that guy?
How did I get here?  I thought I had been killed.  Did that not happen?
What the hell…”

The chairman holds up his hand and says, “Slow down a moment, we’ll get to
all of them.  First, yes, you are alive and as far as we know perfectly
well.  Your performance was magnificent and it got such high ratings that
an additional million has been deposited in your bank account and your
sister got the half million she would normally be entitled to.  The rest
will be explained by this gentleman here who will introduce himself.  Good
luck.”  With that, he gets up and leaves the room.

“Before we get to the rest of your questions, I have a request,” the man
who stayed says.  “Will you stand up?”

“What??!  I’m naked!  Why do you need me standing?”  I respond.

He thinks for a second, and then says, “I’ll turn my back.  You will find
some underwear in the top drawer of the dresser there.  Will it be OK if I
look you over then?”

“Well, I guess that will be alright as long as I get some answers as to
what is going on.”

“I promise.”  He also swivels the chair around until his back is to the
dresser.

I realize that I am being a bit absurd as millions of people had seen me
last night (was it last night?) in much more compromising positions than
just standing nude in front him of will be, but for some reason I feel body
conscious.  I slip out of bed and with seemingly so no ill effects walk
over to the dresser and pull open the top drawer.  Neatly folded inside are
several bra and panty sets, including the fairly modest blue-striped set I
had worn when this all started.  I get it out, slip the bikini panties over
my feet and pull them up settling the waistband on my hips.  I put my arms
through the bra straps, fit my breasts into the cups and hook the back
straps together.  I call out to the man, “It’s OK to look.”

He swivels back around and closely eyes my form.  I can feel myself
reddening when he requests that I turn around, which I do.  “Well,” he
said, “You seem to be no worse for the wear, not even any bruising.  You
can get back into bed and cover up if you’d like.”

I sit back down on the edge of the bed, but feel comfortable enough that I
don’t cover up.  “Don’t you think you owe some explanation now?”

He smiles at my newfound lack of shyness and replies, “I certainly do.  My
name is John Smith, which, of course, is not my real name, but will have to
do for now.  I work for the Office of Special Affairs.  What you went
through a few days ago was not the scenario you planned, but an actual
mission for us.”

My mouth gapes open and I get light headed and nearly faint.  I can’t
believe what I am hearing.  “Huh???” is all I manage to get out.  “I don’t
understand.”

“The OSA is a very secret investigation and action arm of the government.
Just as your scenario plotted, an extremely valuable artifact had been
stolen, although it wasn’t called the Zerix Trigger.  As all execution
scenarios are known to us, we decided to take advantage of your idea and
use you as an actual agent.  Through your efforts, the OSA was able to
recover the item, although most of the criminals escaped.  You have our
sincere thanks”

I become more and more confounded.  His answers only lead me to new
questions.  “Then I wasn’t killed?”

“Oh no, what happened in the building was real.  All of it, including the
dildo of death, which by-the-way is on the desk over there.  You are
welcome to keep it as a remembrance.”  He pointed and there it was the
device that was my killer, extracted and left for me like a gold tooth.
“It did shoot the dart into your heart and technically you did die.  It was
over an hour after our assault began before we found the room you were in
and it took another forty minutes to get to you.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand at all.  It couldn’t have been more than ten
minutes after I first heard you guys land before the dart speared my
heart.”  I shivered a little with the memory then continued.  “At most I
lasted another five before I died.  It must have been close to two hours
after that till you got to me.  No one has ever been revived even close to
even a quarter of that time and certainly not with a ripped open heart.”
In spite of myself, my emotions get the better of me and I begin to cry
softly.  “I don’t understand.”

John is silent for a few moments, and then says, “I sympathize with your
feelings, but I think I can explain them and why you are still with us
satisfactorily.  When we got to you, there was no question that you were
dead and had been for some time as your body temperature had dropped
significantly.”

I look up at him, sniffle a little and ask, “Then how?”

“Although your heart had stopped and your brain function had ceased, the
vast majority of the bio-molecular substances that make you you had yet to
degrade.  As quickly as we could we got you out, because irreversible
changes were beginning to occur.  If it had taken another hour for us to
retrieve you, you really would have been gone with no hope.  We flew you to
our headquarters and to the R&D center there.  About four hours after your
demise, your body temperature had dropped to ambient and normally we would
just taken you to the morgue.”

I had stopped crying, but my eyes got wider and wider listening to him and
I get a little sad when I hear what almost happened to me.

“Our scientists have developed a machine that, given your condition and the
actual damage you had sustained, they thought had a chance to rebuild you. 
So, you were placed into the capsule, the instrument was fired up and sixty
hours later we removed a living breathing woman, repaired perfectly as far
as we can tell.  You were flown to near your new home, put into bed and
here we are.”

If my eyes could pop out of my head, they would.  “How?  Why?”  I stammer.

“The how is highly classified.  I can tell you no more than I have.  The
Lottery Board thinks we got to you in time and since the broadcast ended
when you died, they have no real idea how long it took and questions are
not asked of the OSA,” John explains.  “The why is very simple.  You did a
great job!  Your instincts for stealthy reconnaissance work are first rate
and the object recovered was of immense importance.  We owed you.”

Although I’m still having a tough time digesting all that I hear, I take in
that I really am alive and that I did something truly worthwhile.  I’m
honestly pleased that I’m still here and for a good reason.  “So, what
happens now?”  I ask.

“That’s up to you.  The OSA would like for you to continue to work with us,
pretty much as your scenario described.  Return to a daily life of the
office lady and be available to do recon work for us when needed,” John
says.

“Aren’t I supposed to be dead?”

“Officially you are.  We’ve created a new identity for you.  Your first
name is still Cathy and most of the rest of the details are the same.
People live pretty similar lives and the differences won’t be hard to
remember.  We saw no reason to change your looks, people saw you die and
will just assume you are somebody that looks similar.  You are no longer in
the States and should not go there unless ordered.  If you take a look, one
change we did make was to remove your lottery volunteer tattoo.  The
company you work for, while a true commercial firm, has ties to the OSA, so
when you’re out on a mission for us, no questions will be asked.  This
place we’re in is close by to a condo the OSA has obtained as a place for
you to live and to facilitate contact.  What do you think?”  He queries.

Even before he finishes, I know my answer.  “Absolutely, yes; I enjoyed
what I did and, to be truthful, what was done to me.  If it had been the
end, that would have been OK, I had no regrets.”  Glancing down I see my
tattoo is gone, no one could tell I ever had one. 

“That’s excellent; we can’t promise to always be able to save you, you
know?”

“I know that.  I should be dead now, so whenever it does come, the time
will have been a bonus.  This is going to be fun.  I have one more question
though.  Can you tell me anything about Mary?”

John replies, “The documentation covering where you live, work, etc. is in
the top drawer of the desk.  I will be your contact with the OSA.”
Ignoring my question about Mary, he stands up, walks over to the desk, and
picks up the dildo of death and comments, “A very interesting device.  Self
programming, self repairing and does a fantastic job of conforming its
behavior to that of the victims (as if I didn’t know that).  The lab boys
had a field day.  Be careful with it, it’s fully functional again.”  John
sets the dildo back down, looks over at me for a few seconds, reaches into
his pocket, pulls out a cell and says into it, “Send her in.”

I had thought that nothing could surprise me after what I had just been
hearing, but I am wrong.  The door opens and Mary walks in, nude, cuffed at
the wrists and ankles with a chain between them.  “Hello, Cathy,” she says
with a genuine smile.  “I didn’t make it.  I pleased to see you did.”

John interrupts with, “What happens to Mary is up to you, Cathy.  The keys
to her cuffs are on the desk and her clothes are in the package.  You are
free to do what you like, look at it as a kind of reward.  You may release
her, use the dildo on her, torture her or just return her to us.  You may
tell her what you like, other than about us, we trust your judgment.  A
cell with my contact information is in the top right hand desk drawer.  I
wish you luck in the future.  You will hear from me when we need you.”
With that, John glances at Mary and me, who are looking only at each other,
and leaves the room.

My heart is pounding as I examine my killer.  Mary looks steadily back at
me with a slight smile on her face.  I suspect she knows I won’t kill her. 
“Sit down,” I say.  “I suppose you’ve been worked over pretty good.”

Mary sits, and then spreads her legs slightly, only enough to give me a
glimpse of her pussy.  “Actually they’ve done nothing.  Once I was
captured, I was stripped, blindfolded, and cuffed as you see and have been
held in a cell somewhere until I was brought here.  Almost nothing other
than a few orders has been said to me.”

I must look puzzled as Mary continues, “I’m as surprised as you are.  Maybe
they wanted to give you first chance; maybe they just don’t care.  Can I
ask you how they managed to get to you in time?”

“They didn’t.  Your device worked perfectly, I orgasmed in just a few
minutes and then died just as you said I would.”  For once, it is nice to
see someone else look confused.  “All I can say is that I am alive now and
am happier to see you again than someone you killed should be.  If I had to
do it over, I would change nothing, even my death was enjoyable and for
that I have you to thank.”

Mary shakes her head as if to clear it, then replies, “However it was done
I am content you survived in the end.  Have you decided what you’re going
to do with me?”

I can tell she is a bit nervous, her breathing is shallow and a bit uneven;
however, there is a sparkle in her eyes as she hopes for the best.  I stand
up, walk over to her, reach down and while fondling one of her breasts I
answer, “Yes.  I’m going to let you go.  I don’t know why, it simply seems
like the right thing to do.  You may have tried to kill me, but you also
gave me heights of pleasure never reached by me before.”  I squat beside
her and reach for her pussy.  Mary sighs with relief and with a smile of
triumph; similar to the one I saw before in the chamber of death, and opens
her thighs a little more giving access to her cunt.  As I slide my finger
along her slit, her eyes close, she sighs again, and leans back spreading
her thighs somewhat more.  She is wet and I slip my finger into her quim,
stirring my digit around once inside.  Her smile remains as she squirms on
the chair consenting to my invasion.  After a few minutes of probing, I
withdraw my finger and stand up, walk over to the desk and retrieve the
keys to her cuffs.  I kneel down; unlock her ankle binders and then the
ones around her wrists.  Her bonds drop to the floor.

She looks down at me and says, “I have you at a disadvantage you know.  I’m
bigger and stronger and could easily overpower you.”

“That’s true, but you won’t.”  It’s my turn to have the triumphant smile.
I stand up, untouched, and go sit down on the bed again.

“You’re right, this time,” Mary replies.  She stands as well, comes over to
me, and starts fondling one of my breasts thru the bra.  “We could have
some fun before I go.”

“I’m sorry, but today has been a trying one for me and I need to get some
time to myself to sort things out.  I truly wish we could have a roll in
the sack, but I am not ready for that yet.”

Mary smiles again, a little sadly this time and stops her stroking, goes
over to the desk and opens the package containing her clothes.  She pulls
on the pantyhose, puts on the bra, skirt and blouse, and then steps into
the shoes.  Dressed now, I notice her looking at the dildo of death, but
she makes no move to pick it up.

“Quite a toy isn’t it, and now it has my juices soaked into it as well.”
I comment lightly.

“Oh yes, it is,” she states with feeling.  Then she turns and heads for the
door.  Stopping with a hand on the knob, she turns back and says, “See you
around.”  Then she begins to open the door.

“Wait!”  I call out.  Mary turns back, eyebrows slightly raised, with the
door half open.  I stand up, walk over to the desk, pick-up the dildo of
death, walk over to Mary and hand her the device.  “I’m sure you’ll find a
better use for this than I will.”

“Softy,” she murmurs and takes the dildo.  Then she kisses me quickly on
the lips with just a touch of tongue and when I open my eyes, she is gone.

THE END


  
Execution Planet 4 - Cathy v2