They say that some people are just lucky. They’re just the winners in life’s lottery. That’s just the bullshit politicians tell the masses to drum up new excuses to raise
taxes. You want to know what truly creates luck, try hard work and unwavering attention to detail.
...
Amanda’s the trophy wife of a highly successful hedge fund manager. About six months ago her husband noticed some suspicious reoccurring credit card charges, calling in a favor
from a friend who works in his bank’s credit card processing center. Amanda's husband discovered that his wife was charging over twenty thousand a month to one of the city’s most
expensive escort services, charges stretching back for well over three years, expenses that always seemed to occur during his monthly finance committee meeting in New York. Suspecting
the worst, Amanda’s husband contacted someone special, he contacted me.
Hacking into the escort service’s website I intercepted Amanda’s solicitation and found her highly detailed client profile. Unknown to her husband, it seems Amanda has a hidden submissively
masochistic side with a craving for dangerously kinky sex. Tonight she’s alone at her husband’s isolated manor house up along the coast, the entire staff given the weekend off.
It was already dark and raining when Amanda, a half-full wine glass in her hand, watched with eager anticipation from the windows of the upstairs den, as the car pulled through the estate’s main gate...
...
There wasn’t another car in sight as I drove up the long winding drive and parked by the manor house, the estates main gates already closing behind me. And, as planned, Amanda had thoughtfully left the door unlocked.
I found Amanda waiting in the upstairs den, provocatively dressed, and standing by the windows holding a half-full wine glass in her perfectly manicured hand. She was a stunningly beautiful creature. I
longed to push her roughly back against those windows, to ruthlessly take her in a moment of uncontrollable inflamed passion, but we both already knew that wasn’t what she’s paying me for.
Instead, I calmly set my leather satchel on the table and paused to remove my coat, folding it neatly and draping it over one of the dens comfortable looking leather chairs. I could clearly see the obvious
look of growing erotic excitement in Amanda’s eyes as she placed her half-finished glass of wine on the serving tray and glancing over her shoulder, submissively brought her wrists together behind her back
as I removed the handcuffs from my satchel.
I put the cuffs on tight, snug around Amanda’s wrists, feeling her trembling as I squeezed them an extra notch tighter, the discomfort a mere taste of what that night would hold...
Amanda sighed as she closed her eyes, reveling in that delightful moment of pure masochistic pleasure as she felt those handcuffs painfully biting into her flesh. Taking advantage of her momentary
distraction, I quickly pulled the IV needle from my pocket and using my teeth to remove the needle’s cover, plunged it into Amanda’s right carotid artery before depressing its plunger. In less than a
second Amanda lost consciousness, collapsing limply in my arms as the needle’s powerful sedative took effect...
...
Blinking in the bright lights as she regained consciousness it took a moment for Amanda’s eyes to adjust before she started to notice her surroundings and realized how truly dire her situation was. She
was hanging naked and utterly helpless with a painfully intrusive dildo already buried cervix deep in her vagina, as she stared in horror at the brutal instruments of torture arrayed on a nearby table.
Upstairs, in his study, Amanda’s host smiled as he watched the familiar look of terror quickly growing in his guest’s eyes as he patiently waited for his benefactor’s wire transfer to post to his numbered
Cayman Island bank account. Moments later, as he was checking the video feeds from all the cameras, he heard his phone’s banking app ping. Pulling up the app he smiled as he noted his benefactor’s second
payment of five million dollars. Checking the video feeds one final time he picked up his signature metal mask and headed downstairs.
Entering the room, I smiled behind my face concealing mask at the sudden look of panic in Amanda’s eyes as she realized who her captor truly was. Pausing to heighten Amanda’s terror, I picked up a pair of
razor-sharp snips, “Amanda, I wish I could tell that this was going to be quick and painless, but I’d be lying. The truth is I promised your husband, that once you’re here in my abattoir, the few remaining
hours of your life will be ones of unrelenting agony. So, shall we begin?”
...
It wasn’t until hours later, as I was dumping the dismembered remains of Amanda’s corpse into the acid, that I suddenly realized she’d enjoyed it...