Overwatch
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Chapter One.
Maggie walked up the driveway of her house, struggling with
the bags of groceries that she had just unloaded from her
car. It was only eleven o'clock on a Saturday morning and
the sun shone cheerfully across the lawn as she fumbled
with her keys, peering at the keyhole over the top of a
loaf of bread. Her arm began to ache with the load, and she
could feel a trickle of cold water soaking into her T-shirt
from the rapidly melting frozen pizza. Finally, the key
found its way into the depths of the lock, and Maggie gave
it an impatient twist, kicking at the door with her foot.
Just as she passed through the doorway, a small hard object
thrust itself into the middle of her back, making her lose
her balance and stagger for a couple of steps like a circus
clown tripping over his shoes. The bags dropped to the
floor as she waved her arms in an effort to regain her
equilibrium. The groceries landed right in front of her
left foot, contributing the final element to her downfall.
With a thud, she fell face down on the carpeted floor. The
contents of the second bag had rolled just far enough to
drive the breath from her lungs as she flopped on top of
them, stunned as if someone had punched her in the solar
plexus.
Chapter Two.
Maggie heard the door slam shut behind her as she struggled
to catch her breath and to roll over onto her back at the
same time. Just as she had half expected, a man stood
looming over her, a gun in his hand. What she had not
expected was for the man to be holding a Heckler and Koch
sub-machine gun with a large cylindrical suppressor
attached to it's muzzle. Similarly unexpected was that the
man was neatly dressed, wearing an expensive looking
leather jacket and dark glasses. Faced with the threat of
the gun, she stopped moving, her body tensed in
anticipation of the impact of a bullet.
The intruder placed a long black case on the floor. With
the knowledge gained from countless TV dramas she
immediately identified it as a gun case of the type that
movie assassins always used to carry their funny looking
sniper rifles. Licking her suddenly dry lips, Maggie opened
her mouth to ask the man what he wanted. Before she could
speak, the man hushed her with a finger across his lips.
"Shhh! No noise. You are Maggie Ryan. You are single,
with no c***dren or pets. You always spend Saturdays alone,
going shopping in the morning and catching up with your
housework during the rest of the day. In the evenings, you
watch TV, read or work on your paintings. You see, Maggie,
I know everything about you, so don't lie or tell me about
your policeman husband who will be home at any minute." His
words rapped mechanically like the text from a typewriter,
with no tone or emotion. He reached behind his back and
Maggie heard the 'clunk' of the deadbolt as he locked the
door. His eyes never left her figure as he picked up the
case and stepped further into the house.
"I am not a thief, d**g addict or escaped convict. I
am not a r****t and I am not a crazed serial killer. If you
do exactly as I say, you will not be harmed." he said,
still in the same tone of voice. He gestured for her to
rise and to go into the living room. Maggie obeyed, moving
very slowly as the muzzle of the automatic weapon tracked
her movements like a security camera. The man followed her,
carrying the gun case. He always stayed out of range of a
sudden desperate lunge, but not so far that Maggie would be
tempted to try a dash around a corner into another room.
Setting the case down again, the man motioned for Maggie to
sit down in an armchair well away from the only open window
in the room.
"Because I would like your cooperation, I am going to
explain what is going to happen. Listen carefully. Your
life depends on it." he said, leaning against the wall, the
gun cradled in both arms. "I have been hired to kill your
neighbor. I don't know why and I don't care. We have chosen
to do it here because he dismisses his security team on
Saturdays, choosing to rely on the systems built into his
house. I know that half an hour before he arrives home, two
of his guards will secure the area and I know that it is
your habit to wave down at them." He suddenly moved away
from the wall, walking closer to Maggie, his steps smooth
and confident. Maggie shrank back into her seat as the
assassin neared.
"You will keep to your routine today Maggie and wave
to the guards as if nothing were the matter." he said, the
gun in his hands a silent, but eloquent threat.
"What if I refuse?" said Maggie defiantly, tossing
her head. "If you kill me, the guards will wonder where I
have gone. I'm not stupid you know. Once I've done what you
want, you will kill me anyway. Why should I help you?"
The assassin reached up and pulled off his sun-glasses,
slipping them into his shirt pocket. His eyes were as cold
as the glass of the lenses that he had just taken off. "We
have some time before the guards are scheduled to arrive.
There are many very painful things that I could do to you
that would not leave any visible marks or damage that might
alert the guards from this distance, but which would still
make you wish that you had died." For the first time, his
voice seemed to reflect a trace of an emotion. "Have you
ever had your breasts whipped with an electrical cord, or
been ****d with a stick of firewood? Have you thought what
it would feel like to have your sex and clitoris burned
with a lighted cigarette?"
Maggie's eyes widened, her face paling as the assassin
rasped out the catalogue of horrors. Her gaze fell on his
crotch, which was level with her head. A definite bulge in
the front of his trousers indicated that the man was more
than a little affected by his own threats. She shook her
head from side to side, as if denying the images that his
words brought to her mind.
"I don't want to be hurt. I also don't want to die."
she replied. Maggie bowed her head, her shoulder length
brown hair hiding her face. Just as the man was about to
turn away, satisfied that he had sufficiently cowed the
woman, Maggie looked up and spoke again.
"Look, Mister, I can see that you would like the
chance to torture me." she said, pointing at the tent in
the man's pants. "I just want to live. I will do
anything..."
The assassin cut her off, a look of boredom on his face.
"They all offer to do 'anything'. What makes you think that
having sex with you is worth that much?" he asked
insultingly.
Maggie shook her head. "No. I'm not offering to sleep with
you, although you can have that too if you want. I'm
offering to let you torture me, just like you said. Even
more, I will stand still for you to hurt me. How many women
have offered that!" she said desperately. "Just let me
live. You can lock me in the cupboard or something. By the
time they find me you will be long gone."
In his mind, the assassin smiled. Her deal was not very
logical, as there was nothing to stop him from accepting
her offer and then killing her anyway when he left.
Undressing and having sex would have been a stupid and a
handicap that he could not afford. However, just playing a
few 'games' with the pretty woman in front of him to kill
the time would not be too big a risk, he thought.
"Alright, Maggie. You have a deal. You stand still
and let me torture you and I will let you go after you have
waved to the guards." replied the killer with a shark-like
grin.
"Thank you, thank you so much!" babbled the woman
gratefully.
Chapter Three
Stepping over to the telephone, the man unplugged the wire
from the unit and jerked the other end from the wall. He
let the sub-machine gun drop to hang from the elastic
cross-body sling that pressed the weapon against the front
of his chest. Folding the cable into loops, he quickly made
a multi-strand whip. Waving the improvised whip he said
"Take off your top. I want to see your tits."
Her hands shaking, Maggie reached down to pull the hem of
her T-shirt over her head. Tiny goose bumps formed
immediately over her upper arms. Shivering, she clasped her
hands protectively across her chest. She looked pleadingly
at the waiting man. She saw no pity in his stony face, and
the flicker of lust in his cruel eyes promised nothing but
pain. Defeated, her shoulders slumped as her hands came
together to unfasten her bra. A pair of firm, rounded
breasts popped free as she reluctantly slipped the wispy
garment off. Looking like a pin-up photo in only her jeans
and boots, Maggie stood with her arms hanging loosely at
her sides.
"Put your hands behind your back and clasp your hands
together." he ordered, watching as she obeyed.
Her pose pulled her shoulders back and pushed her breasts
straight out. Maggie opened her mouth to ask if the
position was what the man wanted, but her teeth suddenly
snapped together with a sharp 'click' as the assassin
slashed his whip across her chest. Maggie seemed to growl
as she staggered in agony, multiple lines of fiery red
rising on the pale white surface of the left sides of both
breasts. A moment later a backhanded swing painted the
right sides with twin streaks of pain. Again and again the
lash cut into the soft skin of her breasts, the heavy wire
cored cables hitting harder than would a whip of leather or
rope. Maggie's breast started to turn deep red and purple
as the welts from the whip were painted layer over layer.
Her upper body shone with sweat as she shook from side to
side like a tree in a sadistic hurricane. Finally, she
could take no more and her arms flew forward to shield her
ravaged chest, the whip striking her forearm. She shook her
head wildly, "No more, please, no more." she begged.
Tapping the whip impatiently against his thigh, the man
asked "Have you decided to die then?"
The question seemed to shock the woman back to reality.
With a moan, she straightened slowly and locked her hands
behind her once more.
"Hold still for one more on each tit and we are
done." offered the assassin.
Maggie nodded, her shoulders shuddering violently. The fan
of wires slammed hard against her left breast, drawing
blood. She threw her head back in agony, the tendons of her
throat quivering like the hawsers of a bridge under strain.
The last stroke hammered home, twisting her chest to the
left with the impact and driving Maggie to the floor.
As she lay on the carpet, curled up like a fetus and
rocking slowly with her injured breasts cupped in her
hands, the assassin dropped the wire coils and looked at
his watch. "Hmm!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Its later than
I expected. Doesn't time fly when you're having fun!" As he
spoke, he picked up the guncase and undid the clasps. "We
won't have time for the firewood dildo, but I guess we can
have a smoke before getting down to work. Take off your
pants while I'm doing this." he ordered.
He flipped open the lid of the case and lifted out a large,
expensive looking bolt action rifle, which had the usual
telescopic sight attached. Then he took out five long,
oddly marked cartridges from a box inside the case, placing
them carefully on a table. Sliding open the bolt of the
rifle, he slipped one of the cartridges into the breech and
gently slid the bolt back forward and down to lock it
closed. The window facing the other house was already open
and he sighted the front entrance of that house through the
sights. The house that he was in was just high enough for
him to get a clear shot over the surrounding wall
protecting his target's property. All of this had only
taken moments, and when he turned back, Maggie had finished
taking off her boots and was in the process of removing her
jeans and panties. Taking a pack of cigarettes from his
jacket along with a lighter, he lit one of the paper
cylinders, enjoying the flavour of the tobacco as he
studied the naked woman.
"Come over here and stand with your feet apart. Then
open up your pussy with your fingers. After that, don't
move a muscle."
Maggie did as she was told and spread her sex open for the
man to burn with his cigarette. Her fingers shook as she
watched the glowing tip approach her most sensitive flesh.
With a flick of his fingers the man brushed the fiery ember
against her labia. The sting of the fire against her skin
was sharp and biting and she hissed at the pain. The
assassin began to 'paint' her pussy with the cigarette,
drawing a picture in ash and fire. The woman moaned
steadily as he made tiny pin-point burns on her sex flesh.
He stopped to inhale, bringing the tip to a bright orange
glow.
"Say Ahh" he said mockingly, indicating that Maggie should
spread her labia wide to expose the opening of her vagina.
Maggie watched as her traitorous fingers drew apart the
fleshy curtains that hid the opening of her innermost sex.
She panted in fear, the anticipation of what was about to
happen almost as bad as the actual burn. Then the glowing
leaves plunged into her vaginal opening, which seemed to
suck the flaming point in.
"Aaaauukkk!" choked Maggie, the terrible pain robbing
her of the breath to scream. Her hips jerked back and forth
frantically, as if reaching for an orgasm.
The killer sucked on the cigarette to re-kindle the flame.
With his free hand, he brushed aside both of Maggie's hands
and used two of his fingers to pull the hood of her
clitoris back, exposing the moist pink bud. Just then, the
sound of a mobile handphone beeped from the man's jacket
pocket. Placing the cigarette to his lips, he reached down
and drew out the phone.
"Yeah? The advance team are coming? Uh huh. Are you
in position?" he asked, bobbing up for a second to glance
at a stand of trees about fifty yards from the main gate of
the target house.
He set down the phone and said "Nearly showtime girlie. Now
hold still while I burn your little clittie and then you
can get dressed to wave at your friends." He heard the
woman draw a deep breath. Leaning forwards, he watched in
fascination as the flame approached the her clitoris. With
a sudden jab, he stubbed the burning ember hard against her
most sensitive spot.
A scream that almost sounded like a roar suddenly issued
from the throat of the woman looming above him. Her arms
jerked upwards and then sharply down, to slam both the
palms of her hands against his ears! A bomb seemed to
explode inside the man's skull as the terrific impact drew
blood from his eardrums.
Maggie's fingers locked behind the assassin's head, pulling
it down to meet her rising knee, smashing into his nose.
Then she grabbed his left hand that was still raised near
her clit, twisting and pulling it past her hips as she
turned counter clockwise. The stunned man's arm was drawn
straight out, the point of his elbow turned upwards.
Dropping to one knee, Maggie smashed her forearm down just
behind the elbow joint, breaking the assassin's arm and
driving his face into the floor.
Releasing his arm, Maggie stepped behind the man who was
now bowed over like the worshipper of some forgotten god.
Her vengeful right foot slammed into his crotch, drawing a
high pitched scream from the semi-conscious killer.
Walking to the window, she reached into a drawer and
withdrew a small compact radio and a pistol. Keying the
transmit switch, she said "This is Red Leader. One bogey in
Sector Four, probably armed with automatic weapons and
possibly explosives."
"Acknowledged Red Leader. Engaging now!" came the
crackling reply. The distant muffled sound of shots came
from the window. "Bogey down, Red Leader. Sector Four
clear."
Maggie sighed in relief. Taking a step back towards the
groaning assassin, she knelt on his k**neys, her gun
pressed against the base of his skull as she searched him
for weapons. Reaching into another nearby drawer, she took
out a flexible white strip of plastic handcuffs. Once the
man's wrists were secured and his hands turning the same
shade of purple as her breasts, she flipped him over on his
back.
"What... what?" muttered the man, jerking his arms.
Maggie shook her head in pity. "You stupid git. Did you
think he would really have no one watching over his home?"
The killer's eyes widened in shock as realisation struck
him.
"Yup," she nodded "the only person that he could
trust to live in this house with this perfect view is his
Chief of Security. Me."
"Then why.." gurgled the broken-nosed man.
Maggie understood anyway. "Why did I let you torture me?
Well, I must admit, I screwed up by letting you get the
jump on me. Also, when you said 'we' I knew that you
probably had a backup man ready in case you missed. I had
to play along until I found out where he was and even then,
I had to be sure of taking you out before I moved."
The man slumped in defeat.
"You know, I always wanted to try playing Russian
Roulette." she said, pointing her pistol between the man's
eyes. I'm not sure that it works quite the same with an
automatic though." she said in a puzzled, little girl
voice.
"No!" screamed the would-be killer as he looked into
her grinning, vengeful face.
The End.
Maggie walked up the driveway of her house, struggling with
the bags of groceries that she had just unloaded from her
car. It was only eleven o'clock on a Saturday morning and
the sun shone cheerfully across the lawn as she fumbled
with her keys, peering at the keyhole over the top of a
loaf of bread. Her arm began to ache with the load, and she
could feel a trickle of cold water soaking into her T-shirt
from the rapidly melting frozen pizza. Finally, the key
found its way into the depths of the lock, and Maggie gave
it an impatient twist, kicking at the door with her foot.
Just as she passed through the doorway, a small hard object
thrust itself into the middle of her back, making her lose
her balance and stagger for a couple of steps like a circus
clown tripping over his shoes. The bags dropped to the
floor as she waved her arms in an effort to regain her
equilibrium. The groceries landed right in front of her
left foot, contributing the final element to her downfall.
With a thud, she fell face down on the carpeted floor. The
contents of the second bag had rolled just far enough to
drive the breath from her lungs as she flopped on top of
them, stunned as if someone had punched her in the solar
plexus.
Chapter Two.
Maggie heard the door slam shut behind her as she struggled
to catch her breath and to roll over onto her back at the
same time. Just as she had half expected, a man stood
looming over her, a gun in his hand. What she had not
expected was for the man to be holding a Heckler and Koch
sub-machine gun with a large cylindrical suppressor
attached to it's muzzle. Similarly unexpected was that the
man was neatly dressed, wearing an expensive looking
leather jacket and dark glasses. Faced with the threat of
the gun, she stopped moving, her body tensed in
anticipation of the impact of a bullet.
The intruder placed a long black case on the floor. With
the knowledge gained from countless TV dramas she
immediately identified it as a gun case of the type that
movie assassins always used to carry their funny looking
sniper rifles. Licking her suddenly dry lips, Maggie opened
her mouth to ask the man what he wanted. Before she could
speak, the man hushed her with a finger across his lips.
"Shhh! No noise. You are Maggie Ryan. You are single,
with no c***dren or pets. You always spend Saturdays alone,
going shopping in the morning and catching up with your
housework during the rest of the day. In the evenings, you
watch TV, read or work on your paintings. You see, Maggie,
I know everything about you, so don't lie or tell me about
your policeman husband who will be home at any minute." His
words rapped mechanically like the text from a typewriter,
with no tone or emotion. He reached behind his back and
Maggie heard the 'clunk' of the deadbolt as he locked the
door. His eyes never left her figure as he picked up the
case and stepped further into the house.
"I am not a thief, d**g addict or escaped convict. I
am not a r****t and I am not a crazed serial killer. If you
do exactly as I say, you will not be harmed." he said,
still in the same tone of voice. He gestured for her to
rise and to go into the living room. Maggie obeyed, moving
very slowly as the muzzle of the automatic weapon tracked
her movements like a security camera. The man followed her,
carrying the gun case. He always stayed out of range of a
sudden desperate lunge, but not so far that Maggie would be
tempted to try a dash around a corner into another room.
Setting the case down again, the man motioned for Maggie to
sit down in an armchair well away from the only open window
in the room.
"Because I would like your cooperation, I am going to
explain what is going to happen. Listen carefully. Your
life depends on it." he said, leaning against the wall, the
gun cradled in both arms. "I have been hired to kill your
neighbor. I don't know why and I don't care. We have chosen
to do it here because he dismisses his security team on
Saturdays, choosing to rely on the systems built into his
house. I know that half an hour before he arrives home, two
of his guards will secure the area and I know that it is
your habit to wave down at them." He suddenly moved away
from the wall, walking closer to Maggie, his steps smooth
and confident. Maggie shrank back into her seat as the
assassin neared.
"You will keep to your routine today Maggie and wave
to the guards as if nothing were the matter." he said, the
gun in his hands a silent, but eloquent threat.
"What if I refuse?" said Maggie defiantly, tossing
her head. "If you kill me, the guards will wonder where I
have gone. I'm not stupid you know. Once I've done what you
want, you will kill me anyway. Why should I help you?"
The assassin reached up and pulled off his sun-glasses,
slipping them into his shirt pocket. His eyes were as cold
as the glass of the lenses that he had just taken off. "We
have some time before the guards are scheduled to arrive.
There are many very painful things that I could do to you
that would not leave any visible marks or damage that might
alert the guards from this distance, but which would still
make you wish that you had died." For the first time, his
voice seemed to reflect a trace of an emotion. "Have you
ever had your breasts whipped with an electrical cord, or
been ****d with a stick of firewood? Have you thought what
it would feel like to have your sex and clitoris burned
with a lighted cigarette?"
Maggie's eyes widened, her face paling as the assassin
rasped out the catalogue of horrors. Her gaze fell on his
crotch, which was level with her head. A definite bulge in
the front of his trousers indicated that the man was more
than a little affected by his own threats. She shook her
head from side to side, as if denying the images that his
words brought to her mind.
"I don't want to be hurt. I also don't want to die."
she replied. Maggie bowed her head, her shoulder length
brown hair hiding her face. Just as the man was about to
turn away, satisfied that he had sufficiently cowed the
woman, Maggie looked up and spoke again.
"Look, Mister, I can see that you would like the
chance to torture me." she said, pointing at the tent in
the man's pants. "I just want to live. I will do
anything..."
The assassin cut her off, a look of boredom on his face.
"They all offer to do 'anything'. What makes you think that
having sex with you is worth that much?" he asked
insultingly.
Maggie shook her head. "No. I'm not offering to sleep with
you, although you can have that too if you want. I'm
offering to let you torture me, just like you said. Even
more, I will stand still for you to hurt me. How many women
have offered that!" she said desperately. "Just let me
live. You can lock me in the cupboard or something. By the
time they find me you will be long gone."
In his mind, the assassin smiled. Her deal was not very
logical, as there was nothing to stop him from accepting
her offer and then killing her anyway when he left.
Undressing and having sex would have been a stupid and a
handicap that he could not afford. However, just playing a
few 'games' with the pretty woman in front of him to kill
the time would not be too big a risk, he thought.
"Alright, Maggie. You have a deal. You stand still
and let me torture you and I will let you go after you have
waved to the guards." replied the killer with a shark-like
grin.
"Thank you, thank you so much!" babbled the woman
gratefully.
Chapter Three
Stepping over to the telephone, the man unplugged the wire
from the unit and jerked the other end from the wall. He
let the sub-machine gun drop to hang from the elastic
cross-body sling that pressed the weapon against the front
of his chest. Folding the cable into loops, he quickly made
a multi-strand whip. Waving the improvised whip he said
"Take off your top. I want to see your tits."
Her hands shaking, Maggie reached down to pull the hem of
her T-shirt over her head. Tiny goose bumps formed
immediately over her upper arms. Shivering, she clasped her
hands protectively across her chest. She looked pleadingly
at the waiting man. She saw no pity in his stony face, and
the flicker of lust in his cruel eyes promised nothing but
pain. Defeated, her shoulders slumped as her hands came
together to unfasten her bra. A pair of firm, rounded
breasts popped free as she reluctantly slipped the wispy
garment off. Looking like a pin-up photo in only her jeans
and boots, Maggie stood with her arms hanging loosely at
her sides.
"Put your hands behind your back and clasp your hands
together." he ordered, watching as she obeyed.
Her pose pulled her shoulders back and pushed her breasts
straight out. Maggie opened her mouth to ask if the
position was what the man wanted, but her teeth suddenly
snapped together with a sharp 'click' as the assassin
slashed his whip across her chest. Maggie seemed to growl
as she staggered in agony, multiple lines of fiery red
rising on the pale white surface of the left sides of both
breasts. A moment later a backhanded swing painted the
right sides with twin streaks of pain. Again and again the
lash cut into the soft skin of her breasts, the heavy wire
cored cables hitting harder than would a whip of leather or
rope. Maggie's breast started to turn deep red and purple
as the welts from the whip were painted layer over layer.
Her upper body shone with sweat as she shook from side to
side like a tree in a sadistic hurricane. Finally, she
could take no more and her arms flew forward to shield her
ravaged chest, the whip striking her forearm. She shook her
head wildly, "No more, please, no more." she begged.
Tapping the whip impatiently against his thigh, the man
asked "Have you decided to die then?"
The question seemed to shock the woman back to reality.
With a moan, she straightened slowly and locked her hands
behind her once more.
"Hold still for one more on each tit and we are
done." offered the assassin.
Maggie nodded, her shoulders shuddering violently. The fan
of wires slammed hard against her left breast, drawing
blood. She threw her head back in agony, the tendons of her
throat quivering like the hawsers of a bridge under strain.
The last stroke hammered home, twisting her chest to the
left with the impact and driving Maggie to the floor.
As she lay on the carpet, curled up like a fetus and
rocking slowly with her injured breasts cupped in her
hands, the assassin dropped the wire coils and looked at
his watch. "Hmm!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Its later than
I expected. Doesn't time fly when you're having fun!" As he
spoke, he picked up the guncase and undid the clasps. "We
won't have time for the firewood dildo, but I guess we can
have a smoke before getting down to work. Take off your
pants while I'm doing this." he ordered.
He flipped open the lid of the case and lifted out a large,
expensive looking bolt action rifle, which had the usual
telescopic sight attached. Then he took out five long,
oddly marked cartridges from a box inside the case, placing
them carefully on a table. Sliding open the bolt of the
rifle, he slipped one of the cartridges into the breech and
gently slid the bolt back forward and down to lock it
closed. The window facing the other house was already open
and he sighted the front entrance of that house through the
sights. The house that he was in was just high enough for
him to get a clear shot over the surrounding wall
protecting his target's property. All of this had only
taken moments, and when he turned back, Maggie had finished
taking off her boots and was in the process of removing her
jeans and panties. Taking a pack of cigarettes from his
jacket along with a lighter, he lit one of the paper
cylinders, enjoying the flavour of the tobacco as he
studied the naked woman.
"Come over here and stand with your feet apart. Then
open up your pussy with your fingers. After that, don't
move a muscle."
Maggie did as she was told and spread her sex open for the
man to burn with his cigarette. Her fingers shook as she
watched the glowing tip approach her most sensitive flesh.
With a flick of his fingers the man brushed the fiery ember
against her labia. The sting of the fire against her skin
was sharp and biting and she hissed at the pain. The
assassin began to 'paint' her pussy with the cigarette,
drawing a picture in ash and fire. The woman moaned
steadily as he made tiny pin-point burns on her sex flesh.
He stopped to inhale, bringing the tip to a bright orange
glow.
"Say Ahh" he said mockingly, indicating that Maggie should
spread her labia wide to expose the opening of her vagina.
Maggie watched as her traitorous fingers drew apart the
fleshy curtains that hid the opening of her innermost sex.
She panted in fear, the anticipation of what was about to
happen almost as bad as the actual burn. Then the glowing
leaves plunged into her vaginal opening, which seemed to
suck the flaming point in.
"Aaaauukkk!" choked Maggie, the terrible pain robbing
her of the breath to scream. Her hips jerked back and forth
frantically, as if reaching for an orgasm.
The killer sucked on the cigarette to re-kindle the flame.
With his free hand, he brushed aside both of Maggie's hands
and used two of his fingers to pull the hood of her
clitoris back, exposing the moist pink bud. Just then, the
sound of a mobile handphone beeped from the man's jacket
pocket. Placing the cigarette to his lips, he reached down
and drew out the phone.
"Yeah? The advance team are coming? Uh huh. Are you
in position?" he asked, bobbing up for a second to glance
at a stand of trees about fifty yards from the main gate of
the target house.
He set down the phone and said "Nearly showtime girlie. Now
hold still while I burn your little clittie and then you
can get dressed to wave at your friends." He heard the
woman draw a deep breath. Leaning forwards, he watched in
fascination as the flame approached the her clitoris. With
a sudden jab, he stubbed the burning ember hard against her
most sensitive spot.
A scream that almost sounded like a roar suddenly issued
from the throat of the woman looming above him. Her arms
jerked upwards and then sharply down, to slam both the
palms of her hands against his ears! A bomb seemed to
explode inside the man's skull as the terrific impact drew
blood from his eardrums.
Maggie's fingers locked behind the assassin's head, pulling
it down to meet her rising knee, smashing into his nose.
Then she grabbed his left hand that was still raised near
her clit, twisting and pulling it past her hips as she
turned counter clockwise. The stunned man's arm was drawn
straight out, the point of his elbow turned upwards.
Dropping to one knee, Maggie smashed her forearm down just
behind the elbow joint, breaking the assassin's arm and
driving his face into the floor.
Releasing his arm, Maggie stepped behind the man who was
now bowed over like the worshipper of some forgotten god.
Her vengeful right foot slammed into his crotch, drawing a
high pitched scream from the semi-conscious killer.
Walking to the window, she reached into a drawer and
withdrew a small compact radio and a pistol. Keying the
transmit switch, she said "This is Red Leader. One bogey in
Sector Four, probably armed with automatic weapons and
possibly explosives."
"Acknowledged Red Leader. Engaging now!" came the
crackling reply. The distant muffled sound of shots came
from the window. "Bogey down, Red Leader. Sector Four
clear."
Maggie sighed in relief. Taking a step back towards the
groaning assassin, she knelt on his k**neys, her gun
pressed against the base of his skull as she searched him
for weapons. Reaching into another nearby drawer, she took
out a flexible white strip of plastic handcuffs. Once the
man's wrists were secured and his hands turning the same
shade of purple as her breasts, she flipped him over on his
back.
"What... what?" muttered the man, jerking his arms.
Maggie shook her head in pity. "You stupid git. Did you
think he would really have no one watching over his home?"
The killer's eyes widened in shock as realisation struck
him.
"Yup," she nodded "the only person that he could
trust to live in this house with this perfect view is his
Chief of Security. Me."
"Then why.." gurgled the broken-nosed man.
Maggie understood anyway. "Why did I let you torture me?
Well, I must admit, I screwed up by letting you get the
jump on me. Also, when you said 'we' I knew that you
probably had a backup man ready in case you missed. I had
to play along until I found out where he was and even then,
I had to be sure of taking you out before I moved."
The man slumped in defeat.
"You know, I always wanted to try playing Russian
Roulette." she said, pointing her pistol between the man's
eyes. I'm not sure that it works quite the same with an
automatic though." she said in a puzzled, little girl
voice.
"No!" screamed the would-be killer as he looked into
her grinning, vengeful face.
The End.
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