The Santamos Island concierge

An impoverished Caribbean island nation nears bankruptcy. In order to raise cash income from “tourists”, the nation’s leaders in desperation pass a law — consensual executions of sane and un-coerced foreigners by other foreigners will be legal in public execution areas on the island. Arachnid’s Santamos Island universe

I work as a concierge at the hotel on the south side of the island. I don’t get many requests down here. Many of the tourists who come to experience the ultimate fantasy usually check into the classier Robespierre hotel. It has all the amenities you would ever want, especially when it comes to suiting one’s needs for passing into the next life.

That doesn’t mean we don’t get the occasional request down here. I’ve filled out my share of paperwork for those wanting to check out, even though they are not leaving the island. It’s just that other parts of the island catch more business.

It’s not that Santamos gets swamped with activity or anything like that. Our days are often routine. We can go as long as a couple of weeks before we encounter a tourist wanting to make the ultimate decision. That’s why we don’t see the heavier activity down here.

Sometimes I get asked to oversee the ending of a life, especially when it falls outside the normal parameters of what we have set up here. We have the usual endings, of course. But sometimes we encounter a guest who’d like us to improvise.

The only “sanctioned” drownings are those that occur down at our tidal stakes. It can be quite the experience, especially if a guest has to wait several hours as the tide rises and climbs the post they’re tied to. But we do get the occasional drowning request that falls outside the methods we usually implement.

For instance, we had one woman show up at my hotel who wanted to go out by way of drowning. When I explained how our tidal stakes worked, she requested a different drowning method. Of course, we’re encouraged here on Santamos to indulge our guests as much as is humanly possible.

After seeing to the paperwork, Laverne asked if I would accompany her as she sought out the best way to go out for herself. I got someone to cover for me at the desk. Then I made it my personal mission to see to her needs.

I took her down to the beach and showed her our tidal stakes, wondering if perhaps she might change her mind. She thought that might take too long. The stress of waiting for the tide to rise high enough to drown her might cause her to falter and thus to freak out during her experience rather than being able to enjoy it to the full.

We went for a stroll along the beach. I asked how she would feel about walking out into the surf and drowning herself that way. She said she was still considering that as a possibility. But she thought she wanted something a little different.

I asked if she wanted to do this on her own or if she required some assistance. She said she wasn’t sure. I told her I could always find someone to hold her under until the fateful moment she started swallowing water.

She thought about it for a moment. Then she asked me if I could be the one to hold her down. I told her I could arrange to get anyone she liked, but if she preferred me to assist in this manner then I would be happy to oblige. She seemed a little unsure of this, so I did not press her on it.

We went out to the marina and looked around. I told her I could arrange for her to ride out on a boat and be thrown overboard. It didn’t happen often, but I’d heard of the occasional drowning at sea.

I explained a set of weights would take her right to the bottom. An attached rope would allow us to pull her back up when the deed had been completed. Then we could give her a proper burial.

She thought about it for a moment. But she wasn’t sure if she wanted someone to throw her overboard. She imagined her drowning to be a much more intimate affair.

I asked if she had considered drowning herself in a bathtub. She told me that felt a little too clinical. In her mind bathtubs were for getting cleaned up. She said it was ok if others took that method. But it felt a little too sterile for her tastes.

I queried her as to why she was interested in drowning. Laverne explained she had always enjoyed the water ever since she was a youngster. She could not recount how many times she had gotten herself off at the bottom of some pool, lake or stream.

I explained to her that I had never experienced an orgasm underwater. She asked if I would be interested in seeing one for myself. I smiled as I told her it would be all right with me so long as she was comfortable having me watch her. She said she would be delighted to show me.

It was dark when we arrived back at the hotel. So we went out back to our outdoor pool. Our warm temperatures year-round make the pool an inviting, if not a necessary, addition.

She suddenly became apprehensive. She had not brought a suit along. I told her not to worry. She could go nude if she so desired.

She stripped down until she was only wearing her white blouse. I did the same so she would feel more comfortable. She seemed appreciative I was going the extra mile for her.

There were no other guests in the pool when we entered the water. It was nice and warm. Soon Laverne had opened her blouse, allowing me to gaze upon her lovely, bare breasts.

She went underwater several times. I’m used to being in the pool, so I went under with her. She became more relaxed the more I participated in a shared swim.

She was under for a long time before she came up for a breath. She smiled shyly at me as she explained, “The longer I’m under, the more aroused I become.” It seemed true, as her nipples had markedly hardened.

We were in the shallow end when she suddenly submerged. She went flat on her back onto the pool floor. Then she began touching herself all over.

Normally I’m able to maintain my professionalism with the guests. But Laverne’s actions were incredibly stimulating. The way she touched herself as she released bubbles was quite erotic.

She came up and asked me what I thought. I blushed as I apologized for my lack of professionalism. I had become horny, and I begged her forgiveness.

She told me I had nothing to be sorry about. On the contrary, she was thrilled I’d enjoyed watching her. Then she took a deep breath before going back down.

She was in the glow of one of the overhead lights. It really accented her body as she lay on the bottom of the pool. It was one of the few times I had ever found myself becoming aroused by the actions of a guest.

She really worked her nub with her fingers. Occasionally she thrust them into her pussy. The way she wriggled and squirmed was incredibly erotic. And the way her blouse fluttered around her exposed chest merely added to the sensuality of the moment.

She came up gasping for breath. Then she smiled shyly as she asked, “What did you think about that?”

I told her it was quite erotic. Then I again asked her to forgive me for my lack of professionalism. I explained that I didn’t know whether it was the bubbles or the way she thrashed about down there. But I had become shamefully aroused.

She reached out and touched my arm. “Please don’t be ashamed on my account. I love the way I turned you on. Can I show you again?”

It’s not often I find myself blushing in front of a guest. All I could do was stammer, “Yes; please.” She grinned happily at me, making me glad I was able to bring her some small semblance of joy by my presence.

She took really deep breaths before filling her lungs with air. Then she submerged again. Bubbles trickled up from her nose as she stretched out flat onto her back.

I watched with growing excitement as she touched herself underwater. I could not fathom what it was about the experience that was making it so pleasurable for her. Maybe it was holding her breath. Or maybe it was being totally submerged in the water. All I know is that I was terribly, shamefully aroused.

She looked up and bubbled at me. I smiled down at her. Then she grinned back at me. I think it was because she’d caught me caressing myself.

I self-consciously moved my hands away before apologizing down at her in the water. She must have heard me because she motioned… “No, please keep going.” So I caressed my right breast as I rubbed and fingered myself.

She was very deliberate as she touched herself. I was breathless as I watched her. More erotic bubbles came up.

Once more she began to writhe and wriggle. It looked like she was receiving much pleasure. It certainly was a huge turn-on watching her.

She suddenly burst up gasping loudly for breath. Then she smiled self-consciously at me. “So what do you think?”

“Very erotic,” I replied as I shamefully lowered my head. “I cannot explain why. Again, I apologize for my actions and feelings.”

“No apologies are necessary,” she replied. “I’m just pleased I’m turning you on.”

“But it’s not professional.”

“You don’t have to be professional around me. I’m glad you’re here.” Then she filled her lungs with air before submerging again.

Sexy bubbles came up as she went right back to work. She certainly knew how to touch herself in all the right places. It was incredible to observe.

She was down for quite a while. Laverne surprised me by how good she was at holding her breath. I think it was part of her experience.

Maybe I should have been more concerned. But she had expressed a desire to use water as her method of exiting this world. I wasn’t even thinking along those lines. After all, she was only showing me how she got off underwater. And it was utterly incredible.

I got to where I could tell when she was running out of breath. Her chest heaved as more bubbles came up. She furiously fingered herself as though she was running out of time before the need to surface overrode her pleasure.

To my surprise, she stiffened and then shuddered hard. It looked like she was trying to scream underwater. Erotic bubbles trickled out of her nose. I had never witnessed an orgasm so intense before, certainly not one occurring underwater.

It caught me totally by surprise. One moment, she was cumming up a storm. The next, she was inhaling and drowning right before my startled eyes. It was shamefully arousing.

I was shocked as she glubbed and bubbled. Instinctively I reached down to help pull her back up. Then I hesitated as I caught myself. Was this what she ultimately wanted??

She hitched and convulsed as she lay submerged. It looked incredibly painful. Then it overcame me in an unexpected rush.

I let out a shameful cry as I endured a climax of my own. It was embarrassing as hell. But it felt wonderful.

Laverne began to settle down. There were a few stray muscle spasms. Then she lay quiet.

She seemed to stare up at me. But there was no shock or horror in her eyes. Instead, she had a blissful expression.

I looked down upon her sexy body, wondering what I should do. I saw a discoloration emerge out of her slit. It was not the color of urine.

Shamefully I climaxed again. Afterwards I needed a few moments to compose myself. Then I looked down at her and apologized again for my unprofessionalism.

She did not try to contradict me. Her expression was not one of condemnation. Instead, it was as though she had accepted my reaction, if not – dare I say – encouraged my sexual response to her drowning.

It was an experience I have not forgotten. That happened a little while ago. Now I have a better understanding when the occasional guest seeks to be drowned. I always do everything in my power to accommodate their request, even if it means using other means besides our tidal stakes here on Santamos Island.

2021 (written Sep 16 ’21 by riwa. Inspired by the pictures I included.)