Sierra, one of the newest Resort’s vacation club members, had recently undergone her first regeneration. A Resort exclusive process that resets her chronological age to her early twenties and alters a few minor appearance issues she asked to be corrected. However, she didn’t know that the regeneration process also includes a deep mind scan, a mind scan that reveals your darkest desires and also your most terrifying fears. Ironically, these turned out to be the same for Sierra, death by impalement.

Brought to one of the North Tower’s medieval-themed execution chambers, wearing nothing but stockings and high heels, I slowly approached that massive, intimidating impalement post. As my fingertips lightly caressed that smooth wooden shaft, a delightful mix of fear and eager masochistic anticipation swirled through my mind.

Glancing up at the sharp-looking tip of that post, I felt my heartbeat quicken as I realized that even wearing high heels, ones with six-inch heels, that impalement post was still several brutal inches taller than me.

Sensing the executioner standing behind me, I reluctantly released my grip on the impalement post’s shaft and submissively brought my wrists together behind my back.

Tightly tying Sierra’s wrists behind her back, the executioner and his assistant lifted her over the sharp, menacing tip of the impalement post.

I trembled as I felt the shaft’s sharp wooden tip penetrating the tight, warm wetness of my sex.

With the tip of the impalement post firmly seated within Sierra’s vagina, her executioners gave her a moment to wrap her stocking-clad legs tightly around that unforgiving post. Then, stepping away, they both smiled beneath their face-concealing hoods as Sierra’s first high-pitched scream of agony echoed off the chamber’s walls as the shaft’s tip stabbed deep into her cervix.

I quickly discovered to my horror, that even gripping that smooth polished wooden shaft between my stocking-clad legs and the insteps of my high heels, it was still impossible to prevent my steady descent onto that deadly shaft. It didn’t matter how hard I struggled against it. The best I could manage was to delay the inevitable conclusion.

In the end, it took about forty minutes before Sierra’s head tilted back as the blood and saliva-smeared tip of the post appeared between her luscious red lips. Five minutes later, the toes of her high heels finally reached the chamber’s stone floor.

Moving quickly, her executioners bound Sierra’s legs to prevent her from sinking deeper onto the impalement post. Straps they quickly applied above and below her knees, around her ankles, and a final one around her thighs, clamping her legs firmly against that torturous wooden shaft.

Standing there, helplessly staring at the chamber’s ceiling, every shallow breath I managed to take sent fresh waves of agony coursing through me. I felt the executioner’s hand pressing firmly against my abdomen, the sound of amusement in his voice as his fingers felt that wooden shaft deep within my belly.

“Sierra, your impalement was perfect. We’ve bound your legs to the post to prevent you from quickening your death by sliding further down the steadily widening diameter of the shaft until it completely blocks your trachea and you suffocate.”

Smiling beneath his black leather hood, “Some women last longer, others die a little sooner, but most women usually survive about twenty-six hours after being fully impaled. Just imagine Sierra, doomed to helplessly enduring twenty-six grueling hours of exquisitely unbearable torture, suffering in unrelenting agony that only grows worse with every shallow breath you take. Enjoy.”

Ironically, during the following twenty-eight and a half hours of unrelenting torment, the unbearable pain far exceeded my masochistic ability to derive pleasure from my unspeakable suffering. Still, I did manage to have over twenty orgasms simply by rocking my hips to grind my clitoris against that impalement post’s thick, impossibly vagina-straining wooden shaft before I eventually died.

As it turns out, that executioner who brutally skewered me upon that impalement post is also a Resort vacation club member. One that unexpectedly invited me to join him in one of the North Tower’s torture chambers the night after the technicians released me from regeneration. He wants to introduce me to the one form of brutally torturous death he believes is far more unspeakably barbaric than impalement, the Iron Maiden...