Shelly smiled at the sight of that gruesomely ominous buzzsaw, a horror straight out of her darkest erotic nightmares, “So, do you like what you see?”
She could see the look of eager anticipation in her host’s cold grey eyes, “I like what I saw.”
Smiling at his darkly ominous play of words, I replied, “Nice comeback. I like it. So now what?”
Reaching for the pedestal-mounted control panel’s two short levers, he pulled them back, causing the wrist and ankle restraints mounted along the sides of the buzzsaw’s raised guide rail to snap open.
“Of course, the wine is an excellent vintage. Take your time Shelly. It would be a tragedy to let it go to waste. Then, once you’ve finished, I intend to secure you upon the buzzsaw’s guide rail and switch on the saw. I promise your agonizing death will be obscenely torturous and delightfully messy.”
Taking another sip of wine, an exquisite sensation of overwhelming fear caused my heart to skip a beat. The terrifying thought of how painfully unbearable it would be as that deadly razor-sharp buzzsaw ripped through my guts.
The Resort where people say the loveliest things right before they brutally torture you to death. Even after almost forty years, my Resort Vacation Club membership is still worth every penny...