Relaxing alone in one of the Resort’s luxury suites, high within the South Tower of the majestic castle that stands at the center of the Resort’s Medieval
World Theme Park, Nora smiled with satisfaction as she enjoyed a glass of her favorite wine. Her newest novel, aptly entitled “Date with a Serial Killer” was
already in the hundred bestselling erotic horror titles on Amazon. And, after two straight weeks serving as a wealthy Resort guest’s personal snuff toy, she
finally had her own body parameter set back. Gone were the green eyes and short raven black hair he’d requested, she finally had her own preferred brown eyes,
long dark red hair and larger perkier breasts back, not to mention being five inches taller.
Tonight, at midnight, Nora would be entertaining one of the Resort’s most notorious guests, a wealthy German industrialist who believes himself to by the living
reincarnation of the late fifteenth century high executioner of Nuremberg, a man known infamously as the Punisher. He intends to come for her at midnight, using
the castle’s hidden passages to surprise and overpower her, quickly binding Nora’s wrists behind her back before carrying her back though the hidden passageways
that lead to the castle’s darkest blood soaked dungeons.
It’s rumored that during his 28 year reign as Nuremberg’s high executioner, the original Punisher acted as judge, jury and executioner, sentencing over 1400 women
to a slow painfully torturous death because of their promiscuous behavior or adultery.
Nora felt a delightfully ominous chill of dark masochistic foreboding as she considered just how deserving of the Punisher’s wraith she might truly be. And dressed
as she was, in a revealing retro-50’s black merry widow, matching thong panties, seamed black silk stockings and heels she had to admit she could have been a poster
child of nubile promiscuous behavior. After all, life as a Resort companion was pretty much the libertine embodiment of promiscuous behavior and adultery.
Glancing at the clock Nora smiled as she noticed it was almost midnight, quickly finishing her wine she set the empty glass down on the table next to the half full
bottle and went to stand near the roaring fireplace, intentionally turning her back toward the secret panel that opened into the room from the castle’s secret hidden
passageways. Then, just as she heard the clock’s chimes striking midnight, she brought her wrists submissively together behind her back and waited.
Nora already knew that like his fifteenth century namesake, the Punisher rarely forced his victims to confess their indiscretions, he was only interested in enjoying
their agonizing screams of torment as they slowly died for his sadistic amusement. And like all his victims, Nora already knew she was fated to spend at least the next
48 hours locked within the Punisher’s brutal Iron Maiden, helplessly dying in unbearable and unrelenting agony upon its razor sharp spikes.
After all, tonight wasn’t the first time since becoming a Resort companion that she’d gone to her death within the Punisher’s diabolical Iron Maiden. Hearing the sudden
creak of the ancient unoiled hinges as the entrance to the castle’s hidden passages opened behind her, Nora darkly smiled in eager masochistic anticipation, “Typical,
men, even the most sadistic, are always so predictable...”