The Mission

It is a routine before every mission that I have always observed: an hour of deep mediation, toileting and then a shower.

I am in the shower now, the warm water from the sprinkler system splashing on my face.  I watch the hundreds of streams snaking down my body, running over my breasts, gliding over my nipples, continuing down to damp my midriff and pass over my womanhood.  It is a fine body; the breasts are not too large but firm. The flat belly is a testimony of my vigorous training throughout the years.  It is a body I will hate to leave behind.

“Don’t do it.” I know the voice: it belongs to Sophia.
“I have to.”
“Why?”
“Because I have taken the job and I am going to finish it or die trying,”
“Hitomi! No assassin can walk into the den and come out alive!”
“There can always be an exception,” I reply.
“You are deluding yourself. Don’t do this because you feel bad about the last time…”
Silence from me.
“Don’t put the blame on yourself. There was nothing you could do.”
“I could have struck out earlier.”
“No! There was a kid between you and him.  You did nothing wrong.”
“Sophie, if I have to decide between your life and the kid’s, I will choose yours every time.”
“I know that. But it was a stray bullet.  I was just unlucky.”
“Not if he did not even have the chance to fire.”
“Hitomi, I care.”
“And I miss you.”

I look from the shower towards the bedroom which is partitioned only by a large glass panel.  I can see the queen size bed from here.  I can see us upon it making love. I am running my fingers through your straight blond hair as you suck my breasts. I love you doing that. And I know soon you will be licking my cunt which will drive me first to giggles and then moans.  You will gently push me down on the bed until my long raven black hair overhangs at the rim. And then you will ride me, caressing your own tits as you do so.  We will make love all night and into the morning, I will wake up to the fragrance of well-brewed coffee. You will come in with a tray with toast and jam and honey.  The jam is for the toast.  The honey is reserved for post-breakfast sport; it will end up on my breasts or upon yours…

Only this time it is not to be…

…because you are already dead…

I crouch down at a corner of the shower and sob.  I miss you, Sophie! I really miss you!  I close my eyes and imagine you are beside me and I begin to masturbate…

I come out from the shower and dry myself.  My hair is still dripping wet but I decide to let it dry naturally.  I open the closet and face the array of battle attire in there: latex cat-suit, bra-top and leather pants, aoi-da we bought on our trip to HoiChiMing City. Each has its own history and if assassination merits medals, all of them should be weighed down by silver and gold badges by now.  I finally decide on something simpler: a red dudou with a single Chinese character sewn on the top left side, the part covering my left tit… “KILL!” I match it with a tight-fitting pair of black spandex pants and short retractable stiletto-heeled boots.  Stiletto-heeled footwear should not be very compatible with what I am going to do, but I know I can handle them.

For weapons I pick up my two Okinawa-sais, both adapted for more lethal damage with tips sharpened. These are easier to conceal under the cape which will also cover my revealing torso.

All set…

I take a last minute glance around the apartment where I have shared my life with Sophie for the past three years.

“Wait for me, Sophie,” I say. Then I walk out and quietly close the door.
—–
My blue Honda Valkyrie takes me to the place in less than thirty minutes. I park the motorbike in a secluded spot, replace the helmet with a fox-mask from the inner pocket of the cape, and walk towards the mansion.

Two masked men in black stand guard at the gate. One of them holds up a hand to stop me.

“Do you have an invitation, Miss?”

I smile and hand it over.  The “company” has it properly arranged.

He nods.  “And the password?”

“Dying Angels,” I reply.

He bows and lets me pass.

I walk the length of the twisting path leading to the mansion. I know I am being watched by cctv cameras all the way.  Any wrong move and I will be surrounded by armed men who will not hesitate to take me down.  In any case, there is no turning back now.

I reach the huge oak-wood door and bang the brass knockers.  A sexily clad woman opens the door.  She is also masked.

“Do you prefer to leave your cape here?” she asks.

“No, I prefer to keep it with me.”

“Very well, please follow me.”

She leads me through corridors lined with expensive paintings and marble statues glaring down on us. Then we reach a black door and she motions me to enter by myself.

I push open the door.

What I see is totally unexpected.

To my left and right there are more than thirty groups engaged in orgy of all sorts: man with woman, man with women, woman with woman, man with man.  All of them are naked or semi-naked.  The men’s ages range from late teens to senile; the women are all young and posses beautiful torsos. All of them are masked.

But this is not the most shocking discovery I find.

Right in front of me is an empty stage, a sort of arena.  And on the other side are a dozen gigantic LED panels.  On one of these flashes a message:  Welcome, Hitomi!

No wonder they did not search me for hidden weapons.  They know I am coming.  No!  The whole set up is waiting for me.

My instinct tells me that I should turn and run.  But I have gone through enough not to rely only upon my instincts, which can be helpful or deceptive.  In any case the heavy black door has been closed. I am not going to make a fool of myself rushing back to find it locked. I remove my cape, letting it drop to the floor and revealing my body clad only in my red dudou and spandex pants.  The sais are already in my hands.

Then, I see him: the supposed target for this mission.  He is old, ancient, but his eyes can still be so penetrating that very few people can let them be gazed upon for long.  I look at him straight in the eyes.

“I see you are as good as your reputation, Miss Satomi.”

I toss off my mask and force myself a smile as I slowly walk up the several steps that lead to the stage which will bring me to a jumping-attack distance from him.

“You are expecting me?” I ask.

“But of course, my dear Miss… or should I call you Hitomi? This…” and he waves his hand across the space… “…is entirely for you.”

“I do not understand.” I take a few steps forward.

He sighs. “You are supposed to come and kill me, right?  But have you asked yourself how your “company” can get you an invitation card and the correct password?”

Seeing that I am not going to respond, he continues. “You have them because I gave them to your company.  You are, how should I put it, our main entertainment this evening.”

“What kind of entertainment are you referring to?”

“The most lethal kind, Hitomi.  You win, you walk out of here alive; you lose, you die.”

At that instant the other LED monitors brighten up.  I see these are actually score-boards.  Bets are being placed all over the world: Madrid, Paris, New York, Tokyo, Delhi… even Hong Kong.

“What are they betting on?” I ask.

“Your chance of surviving the first fight.  Right now, the odds are in your favor 3:1.”

“Really?” I manage a wry smile. “So how many fights do I have to win before I can get out?”

“Three.  But I must say, it will get more and more difficult with each round, and your chance of survival will dramatically decrease.  Are you ready?”

“Do I have any choice?”

“No.”

And with that my first opponents jump onto the stage: four ninja girls dressed in colorful short dresses. Their pony-tails swing at the back of their heads.  Each of them wields a ninja-sword.

I bite my lower lip and ready my sais for battle…

The girl in purple initiates the attack. She makes a yell and rushes me with her sword raised.  I have it parried with the sai in my right hand and make a thrust with the other one.  She jumps back just in time.  I can finish her off if I follow up with the attack. But I sense this is just what she wants me to do.  The real danger is behind me.

I move forward with quick footwork, but my focus is at my back. I am right.  The green-dressed kunoichi silently glides towards me from behind.  I hear a tiny sound: a shuriken! In the flash of an eye-blink I make a low somersault just as the shuriken is about to enter my spine.  Instead, the purple-dress girl gets it in her right tit.  She gives a cry and with eyes staring at her confused team-mate, she topples backward.  I do not wait for the green-dress girl to recover from realizing she has killed her partner by mistake.  I make a roll and the next moment my sai plunges into her belly an inch above the navel. She drops with a groan.

The other two girls, shocked to see two of them downed so quickly, give yells and rush me from opposite directions together.  I decide to face the blue-dress girl first. With one foot stepping on the ground I catapult myself towards the young kunoichi and bury both my sais into her tits. She drops her sword with a clang and uses both hands to hold on to my sais with her fingers.

The red dress girl is now left alone. But seeing that I cannot retrieve my weapons as they are being held by her dying partner, she boldly rushes at me.  She is not very smart doing that.  I cannot retrieve my sais, but I have another weapon: the dropped sword of the blue-dress girl. I make a butterfly turn and kick up the sword with one foot, catch it with my hand and make a vertical swipe.  The red dress girl freezes in her rush, gazing at the split open garb she is wearing and the breasts now exposed, followed by a jet of blood.  She kneels… and to spare her the pain, I slit her throat.

The fight is over…

The old man claps…

“Very impressive!” he says. “Though I knew you would win, this was done so stunningly well. I can see the odds against you have changed for the better.  Before the fight, the odds were 4:6 against you for the coming one.  Now they are 5:5. So prepare for the next fight.”

I retrieve my sais, wiping the blood clean on the garb of the blue-dress girl.  The bodies are quickly towed away by attendants appearing from out of nowhere. Then my next opponent appears.

He is dressed in a black Chinese Kung Fu attire and holds a seven-foot pole as a weapon.  It is not bladed, but I know better than to belittle its power.  A single strike on the head will smash my skull and a punch with its end into my body will cause mortal damage.  He salutes me and I return it out of courtesy.  Then we take up our fighting stances.

He is good; his pole is fast and its trajectory unpredictable.  Several times I have a narrow escape when the end of his pole is no further than a fraction of an inch from the side of my head or close to my tit.  He parries my sais with ease. And as he holds a longer weapon, it is virtually impossible for me to get close enough for a hit.  I know I must do something to end the deadlock, for the longer I tarry the more tired I will become. And I know the third opponent will be even more formidable.

I make five successive attacks with my sais, my body turning round and round to close the distance.  I can feel my hair, tied into a pony-tail at the back of my head, sweeping the air like a whip.  He is good, keeping his distance despite my efforts. I know I have run into a true master of martial arts.  Then I spring my surprise attack.

Instead of using my sais in thrusts, I toss one high into the air.  He is puzzled at my move.  Without allowing him to think it through, I jump into an all-out attack with my second sai.  He parries it and is about to counter-attack when the first sai comes down vertically over his head.  I have timed it right. He realizes the danger and takes a step back. But I catch the sai in mid-air and close in.  This time he moves a bit too slow.  I slam the rear end of the sai into his chest and he staggers back, blood oozing from his mouth.  I do not kill him; he is an opponent worthy of respect.  But he is out of the fight.  He bows before leaving the stage.  And I bow back.

Thunderous applause from all around engulfs me.  Even those people copulating now stop and watch. The old man is pensive.

“Ah, you are much better than I thought.  Your score is risen to 2:1 in your favor for the next one.”

“Are you sure?” It sounds much too easy. He laughs.

“No! You have misunderstood.  For the next fight, they are not betting on your survival.  To tell the truth, your chance is zero.  The bet is whether or not you can last ten minutes.  If you can, those who put their trust in you will win big money.  But the fight goes on until one of you is on the floor.  And Khalid, my champion, does not spare fallen foes as you did just now.  It is a fight to the death. Are you ready?”

I sniff.  Come what may…

He walks up and I immediately know what the old man meant. He is unarmed, but his strong body and arms remind me of just one word: juggernaut.  I have faced so many foes in the past. Yet none of them has made me shiver from the inside… until now.

“I can do it. I can do it.” I try to pep-talk myself. Then my opponent points a finger at me.

“You are good… and beautiful too.  If you can last more than ten minutes, I will grant you one wish before I kill you.”

“How can you be so sure of killing me?  Maybe it is you who I will grant a death-wish.” He laughs.

“You are the most skillful woman fighter I have ever seen: clever, fast and powerful.  But you are still not on my level.”

“Let us find out if you speak the truth or just nonsense.” Then we begin to make circles round the stage, keeping our distance.

I know for me to win, I cannot rely on the same tactics as I used with the kunoichis and the Kung-Fu master.  This one is too strong, and despite his size he is agile.

I make the first move after we complete two rounds on the stage. My sais become flying wheels when I maneuver them with my fingers.  They point to the front in thrusting attacks at his face in one moment, but suddenly change direction and allow me to make stabbing moves against his lower chest in the next.  He blocks every thrust and side-steps my stabbing, which I have expected.  Then, I make a solid attack.

This surprises him as it would make me easy prey.  He uses his forearms to block my thrusts, and I feel those iron-claw fingers sink into my forearms.  He can break my arms any second.

What I do next is beyond his imagination.  Using his grip as a pivot point, I make a dive and bring up my feet over his head.  The stiletto-heels make two bloody holes on his chest and he staggers backwards.  He is wounded but he is still in the fight.  And a wounded tiger is the most dangerous one.

He begins to take up initiative and I hold my own for a while.  But gradually I begin to feel the pressure. My defense becomes less and less effective. “Prepare to die, pretty one!” he hisses.

In the next moment, my sais fly away from my hands as he chops me at my midriff.  I feel as if I have been hit by a truck. I land on my back, blood spurting out from the corner of my mouth. Then he towers over me.  In his eyes I see anger and lust.

I have lost.  Swallowing my pride, I brace myself for the inevitable.

“What does that word there mean?” he asks of the symbol on my left tit.

“Kill!” I reply.

“I see,” he says. “It is a fighter’s fate: to kill or be killed; right?”

He jerks off my dudou and my breasts bounce in front of his eyes. He cups and caresses them.  Then he pulls off the stiletto-heeled boots which have wounded him a while ago. Next go my spandex-pants, and then my G-string black panty. I lie naked before him.

He enters me, his phallus large and filling.  I do not even try to resist.  He is the first fighter who has beaten me in a fair fight and he is getting what is rightfully his.  His thrusts are so rough and powerful but the pain lasts only a very short time.  In place of that, a sense of release comes with the accepted humiliation and defeat. I am no longer Hitomi the invincible. The state of defeat and being raped in front of so many present and more viewing through cameras stirs a strange feeling inside me: abandonment… and then orgasm.

“Forgive me…” I murmur. I have never made love with, or been made love to, by any male after I met Sophie… or a woman, for that matter.  Now I am under a male body, his phallus inside me… and I am not even fighting back.  Instead, I moan.

He must have thought I was apologizing for wounding him.

“You are good, the best I have met.  No one has ever wounded me in a fight. Tell me your death wish.”

I choke out more blood. I know he is going to kill me.  But that is all right. I have killed so many people before, including four more tonight. It is reasonable for me to pay the price.  He is caressing my breasts now, even tenderly.  Maybe if I live, he may even fall in love with me.  But I know I cannot live even if he does not kill me with his hands…

My liver has been shattered…

“Burn me after I die…the address….my cape….put my ashes next to hers…”

“Hers?”

“Sophia…”

“So, you are a lesbian?”

“No, not entirely…but…I… love…her…”

He nods. “It will be done.”

I smile and thank him.

“Are you ready to die now?” he asks, a gleam of sadness in his eyes.

I nod.

He lifts my naked body up in his kneeling position.  Then with both hands, he holds me horizontal above his head as if we are in some sacrificial ritual with me as the offering.

“Rest!” he says, and he brings me down upon his knee.

“Argh….” I feel my spine crack.  Warm blood spurts out from the corner of my mouth.  My arms dangle by my sides.  The pain ripples through my body until it becomes numbing.

He then pushes my body off his knees onto the stage and watches me roll to a stop.  Through my wide-open and hazy eyes, I see him standing over me as he places my two sais in a crossed position upon my belly.

“Is she dead?” The voice of the old man rings in the distance.

“Yes, she is dead,” Khalid answers. “And such a waste.  She was a good fighter.”

“Yes, she lasted fifteen minutes, another record.  But it cannot be helped.  She was dead the moment her company sold her.  They won big money from it though.”

Khalid nods.  Then he picks up my limp body

“What are you doing?” asks the old man.

“I am going to start a fire at the back of the mansion.  Got to deliver some ashes in the morning.”

And at that, my mind goes blank….

(End)