It’s just a few minutes before midnight on Wednesday. Standing alone in the boudoir of my seaside vacation house, I’m sipping a glass of wine as I stare out at
the rainswept sea, waiting. In a few minutes, a stranger will arrive, a tall, dark, and hopefully handsome man, one whom I’m paying a considerable sum of money
for his services.
It’s funny. I never imagined doing something like this before tonight. It’s so unlike me, but deep down, I’ve known for some time that this is what I truly desire.
I’m just about finished with my glass of wine when I hear the doorbell ring. Pausing to set aside my drink, I went to answer the door.
He’s standing under the overhang. Delightfully handsome. He’s wearing a knee-length black leather trench coat over an expensive black suit and black tie, with matching black leather gloves. Even with the pair of six-inch heels I was wearing. He was still several inches taller than me. He was perfect, all that I desired.
Stepping inside, he closed the door and briefly glanced over at the table in the foyer. Gesturing toward the leather briefcase, with my cell phone and keys lying on top, “Good evening Karen, I see you’ve made the preparations that I requested.”
A faint smile appeared on my face, “Yes, it’s all there. I will admit that it took some doing to gather this amount of cash on such short notice.”
The warmth of his leather-gloved hand against my bare skin felt almost comforting as he gave my bare shoulder a tender squeeze.
Matching my smile, “Is that the only phone in the house?”
“Yes, I usually only come out here in the summer, so I never saw the need to install a landline.”
“On the drive here, I noticed your house is fairly remote.”
“I’ve always liked my privacy. It’s about a mile to the nearest neighbor, although they only come out here on summer weekends like me. And, before you ask, those are the only set of keys I brought with me.”
Pausing, he gazed into my eyes, “Karen, are you sure this is what you want. If you decide to back out, I’ll understand, and you’ll get to keep your cash.”
Staring into his eyes, I sensed his concern, but I also knew the moment had arrived, “I’m sure this is what I want. It’s what I’ve always known I wanted. So, do it.”
In that timeless moment, I could see the look in his eyes harden, hear the brief rasping sound of steel sliding against steel, the sudden tightening of his grip on my shoulder as I felt something cold pressing firmly against my white satin sheathed belly. The sudden overwhelming sensation of pain, all I’d imagined and more, as I felt the chilling, razor-sharp blade of his sword slicing through my guts as it effortlessly ran me through.
Staring up into his eyes, I knew that I’d have doubled forward over his sword if he hadn’t held my shoulder. Instinctively, I reached up and pressed my hands against his upper chest to brace myself, incidentally, noticing the feel of his rock-hard chest muscles against my hands even through the fabric of his trench coat and suit. I could feel the slow, steady trickle of hot blood seeping from the wounds in my belly and back, gradually soaking the white satin of my bodysuit. Still, we both knew the worst was yet to come.
An animalistic grunt of pure agony escaped my lips as I felt that blade twist savagely within my guts. Each brutal twist of the blade, sending fresh white-hot explosions of agony coursing through me as the sword’s unforgiving razor-sharp blade tore my insides apart. The slow trickle of blood quickly growing into a torrent, running down my legs and pooling on the foyer’s tile floor.
Giving the blade one final savage twist in my guts, he pulled the sword out as I slowly sank to my knees. I knew I was going into shock. It was getting steadily more difficult to breathe. It didn’t seem possible for there to be so much blood. Even knowing it was utterly futile, I instinctively pressed my hands over the bloody wound in my belly. Standing over me, my killer casually reaching into the pocket of his coat, withdrew a folded piece of cloth, using it to wipe my blood from the blade of his sword.
Watching Karen as she slowly bled to death, her killer carefully returned his razor-sharp sword to the sheath concealed beneath his knee-length trench coat. Then, pocketing her cell phone and keys, he picks up the briefcase full of cash. A smile of dark amusement appearing on his deceptively handsome face as he notices that small trickle of blood starting to escape from the corner of her luscious red lips.
“Well, Karen, I think we’d both agree that our time together was special for both of us. By the way, if you keep pressure on that wound, it should take about an hour before you lose consciousness, and once you’ve passed out, perhaps another twenty minutes before you finish bleeding to death. I’ve also thoughtfully arranged for a trusted team of cleaners to come out in the morning to clean up this mess and dispose of your body.”
Pausing a moment, he added sarcastically, “No need to see me out. I’ll see to it myself.”
Helpless on my knees, suffering in unrelenting agony, I struggled to draw enough air into my burning lungs to say something as he left, but all that escaped my lips was a whisper he likely never heard, “Thank you.”
I glanced up at the clock hanging above the foyer table as I heard his car driving away. It was almost twelve-thirty. The mind-searing agony radiating from my sword mutilated guts hurt like nothing I’d ever imagined enduring.
Staring up at the clock, I thought, it’s only going to be another hour before I pass out. Smiling weakly with amusement, I felt that I could easily handle the pain for that long. Especially since I’d neglected to mention to my killer that I’d been a lifelong masochistic pain slut, one already in the midst of fatally fulfilling her darkest death wish.
Karen didn’t realize that it would take almost another three delightfully agonizing hours before she finally lost consciousness, dying fifteen minutes later, still with a faint smile of masochistic bliss on her face...
Loosely inspired by a far less consensual scene from the movie “Ten to Midnight.”