She loved assignments like this one. Clean, efficient and ending in ejaculation. She took one last look at the man hanging from the far wall, his limp dick dripping cum on the carpet. Mission accomplished. Time to leave.

It had all started a couple of hours before, in the bar of a large business hotel. To her, it was the perfect place to hook up with a target. If the hotel was large the bar would be crowded, which is always a good thing. If not, most people would think that the attractive, blonde woman on the barstool was a hooker, which also was a good thing. There were often hookers in bars frequented by business travellers with time to kill in the evening. One more would not be noticed.

    This evening she was lucky. The bar was packed. That gave her the perfect excuse to seat herself next to her target, a brown-haired man in his 50s. Up close he looked - average. Not to tall or short, not too fat or thin. He was staring at his glass, and didn't notice her before she was standing right in front of him.

    "Hi," she said and pointed to an adjacent seat. "Can I sit here? The bar is so full."

    He looked up at her face, then his eyes drifted downwars towards her cleavage.

    "Uh... what? Sorry?"

    "Can I sit here?"

    He apologized and offered her a seat. Then he straightened his back and made a brave attempt at sucking in his gut. Men, she thought. So predictable!

    They struck up a conversation, and she soon found her target to be a good conversationalist, funny and warm. It would not change the outcome of the mission, but there and then she decided that it would affect the way she handled it.

    She looked at him over her dirty martini, and said with as innocent a voice as she could muster:

    "I really like talking to you, but this place is so loud! Would you like to go to a more private spot? Like your room perhaps?"

    He did a small double-take, then he pulled himself together. "Oh, OK," he said.

    "Give me your room number, and I'll follow you at a discreet time."

    He told her the number, rose and walked out of the room. She remained at her table for twenty minutes, rebuffing several drunk men before she emptied her glass and rose.

    A few minutes later her target opened the door. As he walked after her he said: "I'm guessing you want compensation? Will a thousand do?"

    She turned quickly, kissed him on the lips and whispered: "Let's cross that bridge when we get to it, honey. Now I want you to take a shower for me. Take your time, I will be waiting for you in bed, naked and ready."

 

As soon as the shower was turned on, she sprang into action. She put her large handbag on the bed and removed the tools of her trade: Her handgun, the combined handcuffs and leg irons, the belt and a plastic bag. She had studied images of the hotel rooms online, and had a hunch that a coat rack with solid hooks would be the perfect spot for the belt. She was right. Now it was just a question of waiting.

    A few minutes later her target emerged from the bathroom, smiling and brandishing a stiff cock.     "Sorry," he said. "But just the thought of you -"

    He found himself staring at the barrel of her gun, and stopped himself.

    "Wha -"

    "Please be quiet and do exactly as I say, and everything will be all right. Do not anger me."

    She knew that despite her good looks, she could also look imposing, even dangerous. He definitely saw her that way, and complied.

    "Good. Now put on these. Large cuffs on the feet, small ones on your hands - in front."

    She gave him the combo cuffs. He studied them for a second, then bent down and snapped the two leg cuffs on his ankles. He then cuffed himself and looked at her, expectantly. He looked like he hoped this was some sort of bondage game. He still hadn't caught on.

    "Walk over to the coat rack," she ordered. As he started to move, step by tiny step, she put the gun on the bed and grabbed the belt. He was no longer a danger to her - not that he had been in the first place, with her martial arts training.

    Over by the rack she made him stand with his back against the wall. She made the belt into a noose, draped it over his head and pulled it tight. Then she tied the other end of the belt firmly to two hooks on the coat rack. Her target was now standing with his back against the wall, unable to move his hand above his waist because of the chain connecting the leg cuffs and the hand cuffs. The belt prevented him from bending over, if he moved as much as a inch he would strangle himself.

    She smiled at him. admiring her handiwork. It was game on.

                                       - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

His confusion was complete. Just half an hour ago he had been having a friendly drink with a gorgeous blonde in a red dress. He assumed she was a professional, which to him only added to the excitement. He loved paying for sex, for getting the chance to fuck women who were completely out of his league. As a corporate accountant, he only needed to work for ten minutes to earn the right to fuck a big-boobed goddess like the one smiling at him now.

    In his mind, he saw her plump, red lips would part, her tongue protruding playfully. He would start in her mouth, move on to the shaved cunt he was sure was hiding beneath that oh so tight-fitting dress, and end up in her ass. Having this one on her knees with her ass in the air - he could feel his dick straning against the fabric of his pants.

    And then the magical words. He walked as nonchalantly as he could, trying to hide the bulge in his pants. When she finally arrived, she looked even better than in the bar. She was about five feet seven, her blonde hair fell in loose curls down to the middle of her back and the dress revealed a toned and strong but yet very feminine body. Her breasts looked a bit to big and firm to be natural, but he would find out soon enough.

    In the shower, he struggled not to jerk himself off. He could not remember the last time he had an erection as strong as this. His first thought as he saw the gun in her hands was 'Fuck, not another robbery'. He had been held up at gunpoint before, and knew the drill. So he did exactly as he was told to do. This robber's modus operandi was odd, though. He'd never seen cuffs like these used before.

    And then being frog-marched to the wall and almost hanged with a belt? He just wanted her to take his money and leave him alone. He would call for help as soon as she was gone.

    "So," she said, holding a large red ball gag. "In just a few seconds you will be wearing this. Any last words?"

    Last words. What a strange expression to use in a robbery. Oh well, whatever. He decided that the smart move would be to flatter her. "Well, I hope that a woman as beautiful and charming as you will find a better way to make a living."

    She smiled at him. "Oh you, a gentleman to the last. Open up."

    The gag was slight oversize, but there was nothing he could do to stop her from forcing it in. With the strap firmly in place, he was reduced to drooling and grunting. The weird thing was, it turned him on. He could feel his dick start to swell beneath his hands, soon it was impossible to hide.

    She took a step back, and stood before him in all her glory.

    "I really meant what I said. Those were your last words in this life," she said.

    He felt a jolt of fear in his stomach. Could this...?

    "I am doing this on behalf of a certain group of men," she said. "Whom you stole ten million dollars from, which made them put out a hit on you which made me look you up tonight."

    Shit! All his worst fears were confirmed. He really believed he had covered his tracks, but here she was - the living proof of his incompetence. He wanted to explain his actions to her, but all that emerged was a muffled sound and a big gob of spit.

    She put her finger on the ball gag. "Shhhhh," she said. "It's game over for you. In ten minutes you will be dead. That is a fact, and you will just have to accept it. But since you were so nice to me tonight, I have given you a reward."

    She touched his hands. "I let you cuff yourself in front of your dick. You have my permission to jerk off as much as you want in the minutes remaining to you. And judging from the size of your glorious member, you will have a grand old time."

    It took him a few seconds to understand what she was saying. But what happened next brought the message home. She held up a thick, black plastic bag.

    "This is going over your head in a few seconds, along with a rubber band. Once the band is fastened you will not get fresh air ever again. All the air you need to breathe for the rest of your life will be inside the bag. With experience, you could eke it out for six-seven minutes. You will last four at the outside."

    She moved closer to him. "Here's a pro tip from someone who has seen this many times before. You are already hard from the belt, and the bag will make you harder. If you are a good little jerkboy, you will come before you die - and that orgasm will be the best you've ever had."

    He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. His dick was now so hard that he had to place one hand on each side of it, the chain between the cuffs resting on top.

    "Now you've probably heard that hanging men often get a hard-on. That they sometimes come spontaneously and spurt their cum all over the audience. Nobody knows why this happens, but here is my theory. I think the body knows it is about to die, so it makes a desperate attempt at living on through its genes. The cunt of a hanging girl swells up and goes wet because the dying body wants to be fertilized, her legs often spread wide to invite men to fuck her. Hanging men spray their cum in the hope that perhaps one sperm cell reaches someone's egg."

    She laughed. "I know, it's a weird theory. But I haven't heard a better one. So here's what I'll do. When the bag goes on, I will stand right in front of you. I will undress, turn my naked ass towards you and open my cunt as wide as possible. All you have to do is to shoot straight - and you may send a spurt of cum directly onto my cunt. A part of you may still live on."

Those were the last words he ever heard. She pulled the black bag over his head, and the whole world disappeared. Now it was all just damp, crinkly darkness. He breathed deeply as the rubber band was pulled over his head, then breathed out as it snapped tight around his neck. The bag ballooned around his head, and he had to make a decision.

    It was obvious that this woman enjoyed seeing him humiliating himself. To her, he would look like an idiot with his head encased in plastic, jerking like a horny teen. But he could choose to ignore her. She might have taken the rest of his life, but the next minutes where his and his alone.

    So he started to fuck her in his mind, while stroking himself. He pictured her undressing in front of him, stepping out of the tight red dress and then quickly removing her bra and panties. He was breathing heavily, and guessed that it would shorten his life by several seconds. But it was all worth it, if he could come in time. The black plastic clung to his face when he breathed in, and he felt droplets of water on the inside.

    The woman walked up to him and held her large, natural tits close to his face. How he wanted to suck her nipples! But instead he had her turn around, bend over and grab her ankles. Now he could see her ass in all its glory, big and soft and jiggly.

    She spread her butt-cheeks and offered her ass. But he was not interested, it was her cunt he wanted. Her fingers moved downwards, playing with her labia before pulling pink and glistening flesh apart. That was his one remaining target in life. He had to reach that slit with his sperm in one way or another.

    Just as she started fingering herself, he had a strange sensation. The air he breathed felt less effective. His confused mind guessed that CO2 was beginning to affect him. Focus, he thought. Focus, damn it!

    He took one more breath, and now it really hit him. He was running out of oxygen! He started to panic, tried desperately to free his hands by pulling them apart. They were as solid as they had looked. Now he tried to bend down, but felt the belt strangling him.

    He knew that this was it, that time was short. He made one huge effort to focus on the woman again - and it worked. The lack of air made him panic, but it also made him harder. He could feel it. An increasing feeling of euphoria, dizziness and horniness. It was weird but very, very good.

    She was still there, with her cunt ready and willing. Now she moved closer, jiggling her ass. Oh god, those pink cunt lips! She pulled them even further apart, now he saw the blackness inside. A black hole surrounded by pink, and with the source of all life at the end.

    He jerked faster. He felt his brain shutting down, like that mad computer in the weird space movie... What was its name? No matter! Concentrate! He didn't need a brain anyway, now his body had taken over. Target: Cunt. Goal: Fill it with his last sperm.

    Between the lovely, spread legs he could see her huge tits hanging, swaying, enticing him. And then his balls exploded. He felt his cock throbbing, bucking like a wild horse, making it hard to hit his pink target with his long, hot spurts of life. But there! Yes! A big, fat glob of cum hit the bulls eye.

    He thrust his hips towards the cunt that now glistened with his seed, suddenly realizing that he no longer controlled the thrusting, that the thrusting in fact was spasms, the spasms of impending death. He felt his legs go weak and then buckle beneath him.

    And the belt noose tightened and tightened until it crushed his universe out of existence.

The most important part of her job was to confirm that the target was dead before she slipped away like a ghost. Sometimes it was messy, sometimes she felt uncomfortable. In this case, she was calm. It was the right decision.

    What the man in the bag did not know was that the mob bosses who had put out a hit on him had wanted it done gangland style. Preferably with heavy beating first to send a message to future accountants. He would have been dead within a week anyway, and in this way at least he was happy up until the last few minutes.

    Also, he looked good with the belt and bag and cuffs, and his dick was magnificent. Whou would have guessed that a man of such average looks would be hung like porn star? As he started to jerk off, she moved closer to him. He was going to shoot straight ahead which was good. Cum on the carpet would support the story she was trying to tell here.

    Her hand crept towards her crotch as he breathed harder and jerked faster. He was grunting and panting behind the gag, which in concert with the bag contracting and expanding made for a very sexy show. She let her fingers slip into her cunt, feeling the wetness.

    He startet to panic at the two minute mark, right on target. Now came the interesting part. Often her targets would panic, run out of air and collapse before they ever reached that oh so elusive asphyxia high. Come on, she thought. Hang in there, it's worth it!

    She smiled when he pulled through and started to ride the high, jerking and moaning to himself. Her fingers flitted over her clit, fast and silent while she licked her lips and watched the show. If people only knew, she thought, there would be deaths left and right from self-bagging accidents.

    She wanted to come the along with him, and just as he started to spasm and pump his sperm on the floor, she had a powerful orgasm. As he collapsed and hung himself she let out a small shout of joy. Slowly she pulled down her dress as his bladder emptied itself on his feet.

    She stayed in the room for ten more minutes, making sure that it all looked like the accident it was supposed to. She wiped off the keys to the handcuffs and dropped them on the floor. Now it looked like he had been practicing self-bondage, and had fainted before he had time to unlock himself.

    On the floor beside him she put a transsexual porn mag. The kind of porn that would make the family ask for a speedy conclusion to the case to spare them of any embarassing discoveries. She had kept her white gloves on all the way, so there was no need to wipe off fingerprints.

    She listened at the door, made sure it was quiet before she walked out.

    Nice, clean and efficient.