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Hi, its Sharon again. As you may know from reading my previous postings, I made my husband Jim into a eunuch a while back. My needs continue, while my clients have need of my services. So far as I can tell, the police have not made the association between all the hits since the location and my methods vary so much. I got a client request last month to take care of a problem in a tall office building. He would be working late the next week
This job was close to home, so Id be driving to Dallas. The client had a lot of information on this target. Apparently he frequented hookers, and liked a little light S&M. He was into gentle bondage. That gave me some ideas. I would bag this vic in his office late one evening. I made an appointment to see the nearly departed. I dressed just one click shy of hooker come-on, and went in to sell him office supplies. He was a purchasing agent. After a lengthy discussion, I suggested that a follow-up visit later that evening might expose him to some of the benefits of contracting with my company MY company being one of those benefits. He readily accepted, and we set an appointment for 7:00 PM. Everyone should be gone by then. At the appointed hour I returned, wearing a very short skirt, high heel leather boots, and a crop-top with a leather vest. I looked like I should have been carrying a riding crop. Instead, I had velvet lined handcuffs and Velcro straps in my purse, along with a fairly stout plastic bag and a nice Ziploc bag. I carried a small ball gag too. Marty was in his office with the door open. Nobody else seemed to be around, and most of the lights were out. I entered his office and closed the door behind me. His eyes bulged out as I opened my purse and pulled out the handcuffs. I think youll be tied up this evening, evaluating my companys proposal I said as my heels clicked on the floor while sauntering over to where he sat. He was speechless an oddity for a purchasing manager. Still interested in a contract with my company I winked, Put your hands behind your chair, NOW! He complied instantly. CLICK. The handcuffs were around his wrists behind the chair, and the Velcro lining made them soft and comfortable, but the metal rings made them inescapable. I removed my vest so he could get a good look at my large breasts straining against the crop-top. I set my purse on his desk within easy reach, then reached in and pulled out another set of handcuffs. These are for your legs, we dont want any kick-backs in this deal now do we I said with a smirk while wrapping his legs around the chair legs, then clicking them together with the cuffs. The poor guy was really tied down now, and helpless. Off came my little top, and he whistled as my little skirt slid down over my boots. There I was in boots, panties, and nothing else. We have to be very quiet to not alert the cleaning crew. I pulled out a little ball gag and put it in his mouth. Then my panties came off. He looked really appreciative of what he saw. I unbuttoned his shirt, unzipped his pants, and pulled down the pants & underwear. His equipment was large and engorged. His balls hung well below his bobbing penis that was so anxious for my now-wet vagina. My labia gave the head of his penis a kiss as I straddled his chair and began to lower myself down. I told him that we had one little contractual problem as I bounced up & down on his tool. I have made a sale already today, and must fulfill that contract tonight I went on, and your balls are one of the terms of the contract. Your life is the other. He looked really confused until I reached into my purse and pulled out the heavy plastic bag and the long Velcro strap. Marty was a mass of surprise, confusion and terror as I slipped the bag over his head, and wrapped the Velcro around his neck. I wrapped the strap loosely enough not to bruise his neck, but tight enough not to allow much air to pass. I continued to bounce on his pole while the bag began to fog up with his labored breathing. Poor Marty could not help himself, and he came deep in my pussy on his last thrust. That must have used the last of the oxygen in his bag. His head was thrashing back & forth while he gasped for air. I reached into my purse and removed the Ziploc bag and a scalpel. I stood up in front of him now, and with his cum dribbling down my leg, I bent over the chair to put my instrument next to his testicles. Marty had a nice view of my boobs hanging down and his balls dangling there as I made a slit up either side of his scrotum. I hooked each ball and pulled it free. Then holding them both in one hand, I stretched them out about six inches from his body. I stood up so he could see all of the woman who was ending his manhood and his life. I placed the scalpel under the cords that connected his two balls to him. SLICE, PLOP. His balls dropped into a Ziploc bag. I held up the bag for him to see, though the fog inside his bag may have blurred the view. I zipped it closed as his eyes and tongue bulged out. Then his head dropped forward, and I figured his end was near. I slipped a rubber band over his scrotum to slow the bleeding so the cleaning crew would have less of a mess to deal with. After about 10 minutes, I took off the Velcro strap from around his neck and removed the plastic bag. The job was done, no pulse. I took the velvet lined handcuffs off his hands and ankles. The velvet did really well, and there was hardly a mark to show their previous use. The Velcro strap had not left a bruise around his neck either. This would look weird to the ME a man who obviously had suffocated and the only mark on his body would be his missing balls. Go figure. I dressed myself. Then I buttoned up his shirt and pulled his pants back on. There was virtually no blood, and I used a few napkins (dampened with some Evian water he had on his desk) to clean up what little mess remained. I straightened Marty up in his chair, and pushed the chair up to the desk. His form slumped over the papers on his desk, and he would be caught like that in rigor mortis when the cleaning crew finds him later. It would look like he just died at his desk doing his work. I guess maybe thats true! I put the napkins & trash in the plastic bag, dropped the Ziploc bag-o-balls in my purse, and headed down to my car. I think I remembered to wipe everything, so no prints or DNA left behind. I drove home to Jim and disposed of the bag & Velcro straps, then packaged up Martys balls for shipment to my client. I saved the velvet lined handcuffs. Who knows, maybe Ill use them again some day Hubby is such a dear for posting this. I get wet just remembering the details, I wish Jim could help scratch that itch. Oh well, I guess it will have to wait on my next job. Cheers, Sharon Fox [email protected] |