Cathy's Life #1 – Cathy's First Adventure – Cathy (F/F/F, snuff?, cons, fist, mild torture, ScFi) By CH Makoto - copyright 2010 ============================= 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. More stories and information about Cathy and her world can be found at: /~CH_Makoto/ ============================= Cathy's Life #1 – Cathy's First Adventure – Cathy Chapter 1 – Prologue to a Sexecution 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 sexecuted. 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. That view of my future did nothing to make my connection with my fellow main fruitful. Some people even described me, behind my back of course, as an uptight anal-retentive bitch. Looking back, I have to admit that they were correct. As I turned thirty, I was even starting to dislike myself as much as other people did. I knew that something needed to change if I wasn't going to end up a lonely, bitter old woman. I don't know what made me think of enlisting in the Lottery, but once the thought crossed my mind, it wouldn't go away. As a result, I headed on down to the Lottery Bureau and enlisted. To my everlasting surprise, it worked like a charm. My entire attitude took a 180-degree change. Just knowing that I could be terminated for the entertainment of the unwashed masses seemed to give everyday an extra spark. I was no longer bored with life and started living like I meant it. My own body perked up and exercise wasn't a chore, but fun. I started doing more things, accepted more invitations to go out and, for me, the biggest surprise of all was that I had sex at the drop of a hat. Male, female, dog, whatever. If the request looked interesting and sometimes even if it didn't, I said yes, with no holes barred. My body loved it! I lost weight and became quite toned. I felt years younger! I quit my accounting job and became a stripper, although prior to my volunteering I was shy and very body conscious. Most of my sexual encounters started away from my job, as I didn’t want my stripping and the other parts of my life to mix too much. 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 even started watching the sexecutions, which I really hadn’t ever done. I knew that killing someone, even a volunteer, just for fun was horribly immoral. Boy was I wrong! More people were killed every year from jumping out of perfectly good aircraft than died due to their number coming up. Carefully watching the girls being sexecuted for signs of forced attendance or other untoward actions changed my attitude completely. Some tension there was and an occasional sign of fear, which was only natural since they did know they were going to die soon. Mostly though, the girls seemed to just glow with an inner light. I still wouldn’t watch the capital punishment sexecutions since I still fundamentally thought that one shouldn’t kill humans or at least it should have been private. However, those were very rare. The vast majority of the sexecutions were of volunteers. I found it easy to see one anytime my partners or I were up for it. If it wasn’t live, there was always prerecorded. I saw all ages, from fifteen to a few even older than I currently 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. I was truly happy for the first time in my life. 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 sexecution. 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 sexecution. 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 sexecution 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 orgasm 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 sexecution 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 my 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 sexecution site to provide the audience with the sights and sounds of the sexecution 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 smoothly 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 stop and look in 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 even more. Sighing, 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 a black bodystocking, 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 and start stroking my pussy. I think about and plan tonight’s assignment. It may be hard to believe, but low-level masturbation helps me relax and think clearly. I love the smooth feeling of my slit as I feel it rapidly moisten. I used to hate how easily I got wet, but now I love it. I am totally 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 my 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 nearly to orgasm a couple times and pondering the assignment, I commence dressing for the mission. I slide my legs into the bodystocking, 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. I see a stairway leading up to a door and as quietly as possible, I sneak 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 the first floor 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 through the sheer nylon. 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 not been all that hazardous. 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. She struggles a little as I strip her, but by sitting on her back, I maintain control. 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. She tries to prevent access to her chest, but bound as she is, I easily manage her. I tug the front of her dress down below her bra and pluck the bra off. She has smallish, but perfectly formed breasts, round and perky with small pinkish areolas. Her boobs stand upright and their nipples demand attention. I grasp one of them between my fingers and give it a sharp squeeze. 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. I guess that having a girl molest her is OK. It makes me happy that she looks like she’s going to get pleasure from my touch. I drag her dress up and reach down in-between her legs. Her eyes close and she opens her thighs for me. I giggle softly at her willingness to cooperate. 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 the hair is very fine and soft. While trimmed short, the fact she still has some pubic hair makes her an exception these days. The color and texture 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 continued willingness for me to press on. She clearly has had this done to her before. That's fine by me; I like girls. I start fondling a breast with one hand while the other continues sliding up and down between her soft, plump cunt lips. 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. My thumb rotates her clit while my fingers are withdrawing from her vagina, then presses down as my fingers slide back in as deeply as they can. 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 cycle in and out of 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, while looking flushed and panting a little. I find that her orgasm has affected me as well. My nipples are standing up against the nylon of the bodystocking and I can tell I’m also damp in-between my own legs. I’d love to give her a chance at me, and I'm sorely tempted, 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, lick them off and smile at her. “Was that agreeable 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 and you do taste good.” 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. Even as I am 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 behind me 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. Hopefully, the agency can see what I see. 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 bodystocking 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 bodystocking, but not really 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 hadn't realized that I had any masochistic tendencies. I cum a second, a third, a forth, a fifth and then a sixth time. I can feel fluids from my pussy running down my legs. As the beating continues, 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 metal rings in 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 being cuffed and strung up 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 also realize that with my bodystocking gone, the agency will have no way of knowing exactly where I am. I may not even be in the same building. 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 wearing a white blouse, a black skirt slit slightly as mine was, black pantyhose, which turn out to be sheer to the waist, along with a pair of dark-brown ankle-strap high-heels. With my head down, I can see up her skirt and I notice that she’s not wearing any panties, which allows me to see clearly her hairless pussy. The seam of her pantyhose looks as if it is trying to invade her genitals. Her plump 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 distance 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 flatly 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? I promise you there's no point." Still I make no reply. "OK, let’s start easy. Who are you?” “My name is Cathy and I’m just an office lady.” “An office lady? So, Cathy, how do you explain your presence here dressed in what might have loosely been called a bodystocking 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?" Well, I should have expected they would have found my victim by now. "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 reply as sweetly as I can, 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. One end is very fine; it is about four centimeters long and looks needle sharp. It sticks out of the feather, which is also about four or five centimeters in length. 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 the full four centimeters 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 and fine 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 lets out a small laugh. “Ah, you noticed that have you? I'll explain. 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 say with some bravado, hoping that the sexual experience acquired over the last seven years will hold me 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 examine her belt and it looks like she has hardly 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 now 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 more in each boob and another one into my abdomen. If I've kept count right, 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. It may buy me a little more time. 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 feels 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 look straight at her and continue. "I would say your drug is beginning to have the desired effect.” She looks surprised at my admissions. 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 your candor, Cathy. I’ll still get the information I need and unfortunately 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 of 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 clitoral hood between her fingers, rolls my clitoris between them for just a second, and then suddenly 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 shiver at the thought of more of the drug entering me, but I shake my head no. She smiles wickedly, holds up the feather, waves it slightly, and says, “Then where? Or perhaps you want more than one?” I hesitate a moment and decide that since I probably am going to die anyway, more of the drug is not my big problem. It occurs to me that there is a game being played out here and this person holds most of the cards, but can be influenced by my behavior as well. Boldly, I answer, “I will take your challenge. I do want more than one. In fact, I would like seven more. Put one more in the swelling part of each breast, one in each of my nipples, then one in each of my labial lips,” here I hesitate a moment, “and finally one right into my clitoris. And I still won’t talk.” My sexecutioner smiles widely and replies, “I'll admit your control is amazing. Twelve feathers generally has my victims babbling like babies and the highest anyone has ever taken 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 reappears next to my torso. Still smiling, she unbuttons her blouse, removes it and then her bra. A pair of magnificent tits are presented for my viewing pleasure and a pleasure it is. They are very large and soft looking, with a lovely symmetry and hardly any sag. I catch myself licking my lips as I think how nice it would be to wrap them around one of her nipples. The feel of a needle touching my breast jerks me back to reality. Mary 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 are in me now and the drug caused sensations are so intense that I think a light breeze across my cunt would cause me to climax. Mary starts rolling my right nipple in- between her thumb and forefinger and it promptly comes to attention. As I am about to cum from the stimulation, she stops her ministrations, but not her hold and whispers, “This will send you right over the top.” I stare fascinated as she positions 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 feeling 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 my other breast and a few seconds later the exquisite pain and pleasure radiating from its nipple causes more cumming, squirming, panting and moaning. I feel a steady flow of liquid out of my vagina, then along my butt crack. I can hear it splash into a puddle of my own secretions that I have created 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 now understand that by the time she is finished with me and I have the final feather standing out of my clitoris I will have been defeated and lost my ability to resist answering her questions. 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 your pussy lip 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. It strikes me as a strange amount of thoughtfulness considering her purpose. I experienced a couple mini-cums from the labial piercing, but nothing like what my nipples gave me, but plenty strong enough to keep me moaning, panting, and squirming trying to get the sensations under some constraint. Eighteen feathered needles are in me with one more still to go. Mary slides a pair of fingers into my vagina and says, “This is your last chance to talk while still under some control.” She slowly fingers my vagina right up to my cervix while awaiting my response. Writhing around on her fingers 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 one more feathered needle and lays it on my lower abdomen. She begins to peel my clitoral hood away, exposing the clitoris. Conversationally she comments, “Too bad you haven’t had your clitoral hood removed, with that sensation dampener removed, sex is beyond belief.” As 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, giving me time to change my mind. On the other hand, perhaps to just increase my psychological torture. 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 pushes the needle into my clitoris, the most concentrated spot of nerve endings on the female body. Instantaneously after the needle breaks through the skin, 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. My head is tossing around and I can no longer hold it still. I'm sure that the needle must be nearly completely in me and with a supreme effort; I hold my head up, look and see the needle is only half way in. Oh, my poor love-button! The sight overwhelms me, 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 how much I love the sensation, then beg her to stop, then tell her 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 excitation. 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 my pleasurable ordeal tonight. 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 patiently 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 that she knows 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 electrostatically fasten to your vulva. Amongst other actions, 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 responses of your cunt. The outside surface of the gadget is somewhat porous and has absorbed some of the vaginal secretions of every girl it has been thrust into, which has made it more effective over time. Soon it will soak up some of yours. Shortly after detecting an orgasm, 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. The expanding blades will slice your heart open and you will bleed out into your chest cavity. You will feel very little sensation, but you will know it has happened. Death will follow in a few minutes.” A cold spike of fear runs through me and I shiver in spite of my exertions and the effects of the drug. I would never have expected the 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 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 Mary has won the battle of wills. 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 you 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, grins 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 vagina 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 are you here tonight?” I respond truthfully. “I was ordered to this building on 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 waiting off-world shipment.” Mary looks thoughtful and unconsciously flicks the feather in my clitoris. 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. “On a more personal level 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. Somehow, 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 pensive for a moment. “By-the-way have you ever been fisted?” Surprised by the question, 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, 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 more time and might even be fun, and then say, “Sure, give it a try. I can’t think of a better time.” With the cables holding my legs akimbo, my pussy is exposed to any penetration, voluntary or otherwise. 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 just 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 pop and 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 gently 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 for the UN and I have done fifteen to twenty recon missions for them. They are called…” I am interrupted 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 over some speakers, “Mary, this is Dagmar. We are under attack. Whoever it is have landed on the roof and broken through the front door. The attack is well coordinated and I don't think we can hold them off for long. We estimate 50+ personnel.” “Dagmar, this is Mary. Order an emergency evacuation. Leave the Trigger. We’re more likely to escape if they get what they came for. My friend 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 While Mary was talking to Dagmar, she had extracted her hand from my cunt and put her bra and blouse back on. She looks over at me and says, “Looks like the cavalry has arrived, but they will be too late for you.” She takes the dildo of death 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 with ease. She pushes a button on one of the cuffs around my ankles and I find myself falling to the floor. I give a small yelp from the shock. Before I can react further, 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 between 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, covering my vulva. I sense it forming to the contours of my pussy and 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 its program." Pointing out into the darkness, she continues, "That door there is very solid. This chamber is also 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.” Not able to restrain myself, I retort, “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 take a deep breath, knowing these will be my last words, "I will admit having the time of my life tonight. I honestly 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 of my last hurrah. 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. I'm feeling light- headed from the intensity of my orgasm. Then suddenly the sounds from my genitals cease. The dildo has stopped all its motions!!! I wonder how long it's going to let me enjoy the feeling of the afterglow from the intense climax. Just as I start to calm a little, 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 to get a little more comfortable. I don’t feel any pain; however, I know that my heart no longer beats, which is a very strange feeling. 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; I'm starting to feel cold. My vision then starts to fade, and yet I’m still playing with the feathers Mary inserted in me. 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. Chapter 5 - The Beginning Startled, I regain consciousness 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 absolutely sure my heart did stop, and it wasn't intended I survive, 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 is…” The chairman smiles, 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 glances at the man next to him, 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? I'd like to look you over.” “What??! I’m naked! Why do you need to look me over?” I respond. I'm clearly stressed and feel faint. 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.” The short conversation has a least calmed me and I no longer feel like I'm going to pass out at least. “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 very body conscious. I slip out of bed and with seemingly so no ill effects from my ordeal, I 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 now.” 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 again. 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 sexecution 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 points and there is 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. In fact, your new home is in Japan. 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. The place we’re currently 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, along with the keys to a car downstairs. I will be your contact with the OSA.” Ignoring my question about Mary, he stands up, walks over to the desk, 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 victim's (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. “Please sit down,” I say. “I suppose you’ve been worked over pretty good.” Mary sits, and then spreads her legs slightly, 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 movement 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, 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 even 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 my 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, I like girls, 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