THE CONTRACT
I had been contacted covertly through an internet address that I used
typically for meeting single or otherwise available women. A third party server
managed correspondence, connecting by password and selection. SusieQ and I were
in contact sporadically for several months before she started disregarding my
e-mail messages. In frustration I finally sent her my legitimate address.
Months went by before I heard from her again and I had all but forgotten her and
was taken by surprise when she called me on the telephone. Fragments of our
electronic conversations began to pique my memory and I began to picture a
spunky thirty year old woman, contrived in my mind by her own descriptions of
herself.
She said she was continually abused by her older sister and that she had to
practically beg for every cent she got. These telephone conversations went on
for several weeks until one evening she asked for a meeting.
I agreed to meet her at the airport lounge. I arrived early to find her already
seated. It wasn't hard to pick her out with her dark sunglasses and bruised
cheekbone. She was drinking sparkling water with a twist. I sat at the bar and
ordered a beer.
She was exquisitely dressed in an expensive beige suit, peach silk blouse and
matching heels. Her legs were crossed and bare to well above her knees. Well
turned calves rose gracefully to slim, shapely hips. A trim waist below ample
breasts rounded out this striking woman.
I observed her for some time and as her impatience grew she strummed her
fingers, toyed with her glass and looked at her watch every minute or so.
Finally, thirty-five minutes after our arranged meeting time she walked out.
Three days passed before she called again. She didn't seem to be angry but
disappointed that I hadn't kept my appointment. I told her that I had been
there.
"The guy at the bar." She said.
"The guy at the bar." I answered.
"Meet me tomorrow." She said and hung up.
I assumed the same place at the same time and I was right. We talked for two
hours before I noticed her bruise was gone. Finally I asked her flat out what
she wanted with me. Her answer was quite simple. It was worth fifty thousand
dollars to her to see her sister eliminated.
I told her I needed a week to think it over, stood, turned and left. I waited
near the men's room and when she walked past I followed her to her car. I traced
her license through DMV for some surprising information. Her name was SusieQ--Susan
Queen and she was sister to Elizabeth Queen, owner of the Queen department store
chain.
*****
I contacted Elizabeth Queen and arranged a meeting. Ms. Queen was as striking
as her sister in an entirely different way and decisive. Within ten minutes of
listening to my story she offered me a million dollars for a video of Susie's
prescribed execution. Arrangements were made for video and cash transfers and we
parted.
I met Susan Queen for a third time at the airport lounge. She agreed to bring
the cash to a cabin I maintained About a hundred miles north of the city one
week from today.
The first thing I bought was a studio quality DVD camera. Other items I
purchased from online stores with next day or two day delivery. Other items I
would purchase at Farm & Feed Supply near the cabin.
I was ready and waiting when SusieQ pulled before the old house, switched off
the engine and reached into the back for an aluminum briefcase. She didn't
hesitate when I asked her in and within minutes she was gagged, blindfolded and
neatly tied to four legs of a large dining table.
I used shears to cut her clothing off amid frantic kicking and shaking. She was
superb in the raw. Goddess breasts were tipped with large areola that
transitioned smoothly to blush nipples. Her bush was profuse, but neatly shaved
at the bikini line. I used a brush to tame and part it like a mustache.
I lengthened her upper bonds and pulled her down to the table's end, raising her
knees and spreading her legs. She moaned with uneasiness as I probed her tight
little sphincter with KY Jelly on a gloved finger. I lingered as I felt the
response of strong kegel muscles signaling her mortification at my violation.
One of my online purchases was an extensive array of various enema peripherals
which included a double bulb nozzle. Once inserted it could be inflated with a
bulb pump locking it securely. Externally another smaller inflatable sealed the
rectal opening securely. It was used typically by older people with little
sphincter control.
I started with a quart of warm soapy solution. It was my intent to make her take
it all at once, but she cramped with pain so I let her release it. Her movement
shot through the diverter valve through a tube snaked deep into the sewer. After
that I gave her the full quart and let it stay a full fifteen minutes while I
examined the pink flesh between her parted mustache. She closed hard on my
finger which drove me into such a frenzy that I dropped my pants and entered her
with such force that she stopped breathing.
I came in a heavy burst that reverberated into smaller and smaller pulsations.
Juices literally ran into the crack of her ass as I withdrew and diverted her
stool again. I left her open to discharge brown water at will while I cleansed
her with lavender douche'.
I was spent and postcoital sadness weighed on me as guilt. I held her labia
together forcing the douche deep inside her. She squirmed again with the
discomfort and I released my grip to a surge of sweet lavender spray.
I gave her a strong coffee enema and let her hold it while I massaged her
breasts and sucked on her nipples. They hardened and I assumed it was reflex. I
took off her blindfold and watched her blink out the bright light as she
surveyed her surroundings.
Terror filled her eyes as she looked beyond to the gallows rope hanging over the
opening to the old cistern. She tried to talk through the gag, but I didn't want
to hear her beg so I left it in place.
I let her coffee drain and prepared her to be hanged. Ms. Queen wanted her arms
secured to a leather belt at her waist and the noose placed over a shoulder
length hood with the coils at the back of her head.
Without further ado I turned on the camera and carried Susie to the noose,
slipping my hand inside the hood to remove the gag. She began to plead as I
tightened the noose.
"I'm not who you think I am!" She screamed.
I let the rope take her weight and as she began to struggle I began to think
about the money. I opened the case and looked. The money appeared to be intact.
I looked at the ID tag: Jeanne Rice. I ran upstairs to her car and looked in her
purse. All of her identification said Jeanne Rice.
I raced down the stairs, grabbed her around the waist, lifted her up and removed
the noose. She was still kicking when I laid her back on the table.
Through a raspy throat she explained. Someone had found her the same way she
found me. She agreed to murder Elizabeth Queen for a quarter million dollars but
couldn't go through with it so she hired me. I asked her about the license plate
and she explained that she had befriended Susie Queen and borrowed her car on
occasion.
I found some cutoffs and an old shirt that hung on Jeanne like rags, but she
didn't seem to mind.
"What now?" She asked.
"I'm going to make an appointment with the real Susan Queen."
*****
Susan Queen watched the video of her sister being hanged a dozen times and every time she noticed some new little detail. It had been a short drop hanging and had lasted an incredible fourteen minutes; still, cheap at a hundred-forty-two-thousand-eight-hundred-fifty-seven dollars a minute.
*****
I offered to split the three million dollars with Jeanne, but she said she
would rather share it and moaned with the cramping pain of the coffee. I brushed
her mound of pubic hair and teased her clitoral hood until it peeked from
between corpulent labia looking somewhat like the shoe of an escargot'.
"How do you think this all started?" I asked.
"It's a small world and I don't believe in coincidence. I think it started and
stopped with Susan Queen."
"I think you're right."
"Don't let me hang so long this time."
Copyright by Sally Forth III (2003).