Entering one of the North Tower’s medieval-themed torture chambers, Naomi found him waiting for her, dressed in a blood-red leather executioner’s uniform.
“Good evening Naomi, I’m the Crimson Executioner. Since you’re new to the Resort’s Vacation Club, the concierge desk asked me to introduce you to the Resort’s divine art of torture. Tonight, we’ll be covering the basic implements of torture found throughout the North Tower. Since this is an interactive introduction, if you would kindly set your wine glass over on the table behind you and remove your clothing, we can begin.”
Turning, I set my wine glass down on the table ominously crowded with dozens of terrifying torture implements. I asked, “Should I remove my shoes as well?”
Selecting a set of wrist restraints from the wall-mounted rack, the Crimson Executioner replied, “No, you can keep your shoes if you like, but please remove both your outfit and hairband.”
Smiling, I didn’t hesitate to strip off what little clothing I was wearing. Yesterday, I would have been self-conscious. After all, I’d been fifty-eight with all that entails. This evening, after my first visit to one of the Resort’s regeneration centers. I had the body I wished I’d had when I was twenty-one. A shapely, impossibly firm ass. A slender hourglass-shaped waistline and a set of breathtaking, perky full breasts, ones that would have been utterly impossible even with the implants I no longer needed.
Pausing at the sight of the chain-linked iron cuffs in the Crimson Executioner’s hands. I felt a delightfully masochistic sensation of dark anticipation coursing through me as I turned and brought my hands together behind my back, “So, exactly just how interactive is tonight’s introduction going to be?”
Securing Naomi’s wrists, the Crimson Executioner smiled beneath his face-concealing hood, “Highly interactive. I promise that before you die screaming in unrelenting agony, this introduction will far exceed your darkest masochistic fantasies of pleasure and pain.”
Leaning back against him, I could feel his massive rock-hard cock pressing against the small of my back, “For someone dressed in an intimidating blood-red uniform, you say the nicest things.”
Eager with darkly sadistic anticipation, the Crimson Executioner painfully grasped a handful of Naomi’s hair, forcing her toward the spike-lined breast crusher. “Actually Naomi, my uniform was once black, but sadly, even after countless trips to the cleaners, none of the bloodstains have ever fully washed out...”