At the sight of his face-concealing metal mask, Chanel felt a delightful shiver of fear pass through her, “Thank you for inviting me here tonight. Behind me on the table is that authentic 16th-century Italian basket-hilt rapier that we discussed. It’s the sword of my dreams and, more importantly, my nightmares. It’s long been my darkest erotic fantasy to die in agony on a blade like this, simply for a total stranger’s perverted, sadistic amusement. Recently, I’ve decided it’s finally time to fulfill that nightmare, which is why I contacted you, Ghost, one of the world’s most infamous serial killers.”

“Oh, and by the way, I love that you’ve set up all your video equipment. I’d be more than happy if you’d post the video of my agonizing death on your website for all your discriminating audience’s amusement.”

Smiling behind his face-concealing mask as he glanced over at the sword, Ghost asked, “Chanel, any last-minute requests before we do this?”

“I want this to be perfect, everything just like my fantasy. I want to stand before you, my hands resting on your shoulders. Your left hand firmly grasped around the back of my neck, with the blade’s razor-sharp tip angled slightly upward and ominously poised within my navel. When I say ‘Do it,’ you pull me forward as you run me through with the sword. I want to end up with my breast pressing against your chest, my head resting against your shoulder, and the basket-shaped hilt of that sword pressed firmly against my belly. I want you to hold me like that, and when I say, ‘Is that all you’ve got, or Harder,’ I want you to twist that blade in my guts, and every time I say either of those, I want you to twist that sword more savagely than before.”

“Oh, and when you think I’m close to dying, keeping the hilt of that sword pressed firmly against my belly, I want you to ease me down onto my knees as I whisper in your ear, ‘Thank you,’ over and over until I lose consciousness and finish bleeding to death. After I’m dead, I’d like you to keep the sword as a memento of our evening together. And, of course, harvest my breast implants to add to your obscenely growing collection...”