Ignacio was at the point of death. The doctor had said that he would not last the night, but privately thought that the end would come within the hour.
The few family members, and even fewer friends, who had visited him during the previous weeks were not as concerned about his health or welfare as they were about the contents of his will. He had not done much with his life; he had inherited a fortune from his grandfather but had lived most of his years as a miser and a recluse. He was reputed to be very wealthy; people thought that his grandfather’s money must have multiplied since he seemed to have spent so little, his only indulgence being an occasional prostitute. He would have had more, but they seldom expressed any desire to return after their first visit.
The two men seated at his bedside, both of them his nephews, speculated to themselves about the provisions of his will; who would get the house, and who would inherit the Picassos he was rumored to own.
Ignacio was young again. After the pain and suffering of the last few months, youth felt like a doubly bountiful gift. He knew he was dead, this was no dream he was living; it was a life rich with sensation. He had wondered, as he lay dying, about the afterlife; whether consciousness continued after death, whether there was a heaven and a hell. Now he knew.
He was in his Italian villa. It was the one he had always planned to build but never quite had the energy to accomplish. But here it was, complete with gleaming white marble interior and lush carpets. Not a classic villa, far from it, but one well suited to his sexual passions.
As he descended the curved grand staircase he could see her standing in the foyer, the girl of his dreams. She was tall and slender, her long legs accentuated by her high heels and short skirt. Her hair was jet black and cut short in an almost masculine style. Her face was square with a wide jaw, but her complexion was flawless and her mouth perfect. Her breasts were small, only slightly disturbing the elegant folds of her draped top that accentuated her narrow waist.
She waited for him, not moving, not even smiling. But she was so beautiful she did not need to smile. He reached for her hands and gently pulled them behind her back. She did not resist. He picked up the handcuffs from the inlaid table and closed them around her wrists. As they tightened the ratcheting clicks seemed to echo around the decorated marble walls. This sound, and the thought that soon he would be fucking her, aroused him, sped up his heart and raised his penis into a rigid erection. He briefly dropped his hand to the front of his pants, he could scarcely believe how large and hard he had become; he had not had such an erection in years.
He decided to make love to her on his master bed. But it was so soft he thought she would feel no pain lying on her bound hands as he satisfied his passion deep inside her. He wanted her to experience something more intense. So he took a length of white nylon rope from a drawer in the table, threaded it under her elbows and pulled the ends back.
He could smell her perfume, faint and elusive, like a sexually scented body odor, almost aphrodisiacal in its effect.
He slowly tightened the rope, wanting to see how she reacted, and whether he could pull her arms all the way back until her elbows touched. As he drew them closer together she finally acknowledged his presence; she looked at him and smiled. Her smile seemed to indicate that she knew what he was doing and did not object. So he continued to tighten the rope till her elbows touched, and then pulled it even tighter before wrapping several turns around her arms and securing them with a neat knot.
He held her now helpless body and ran a hand down her front, feeling the hard nubs of her nipples beneath her top. He was tempted to kiss her, but her makeup was so immaculate that it seemed like a sacrilege to mar its perfection.
“Walk around the foyer,” he commanded, and she dutifully obeyed. As he watched, he became even more aroused. The elegance of her walk, the sexy way she stepped in her high heeled shoes, and the awkwardness imposed on her gait by her bound arms were all very erotic. As was her complete obedience.
He thought that after he fucked her in her vagina he would fuck her in her mouth and then in her ass. He knew she would not object. After all, he was in heaven and all the amenities of this wonderful afterlife were at his disposal.
After she had circled around the foyer she stood in front of him with an expectant look on her face, waiting patiently for his next command.
“Follow me,” he said and began to ascend the stairs towards his bedroom. She followed, her shoes making a loud clacking sound on the marble steps.
He walked along the corridor past the empty niches where his paintings should have been hanging, and stopped outside an elaborately carved and gilded door. “In here,” he said, opening the door and indicating she should precede him.
As she moved ahead of him into the bedroom, his eye was attracted to her curvaceous rear end and her tantalizingly short skirt. He wondered what she was wearing beneath it. He decided she would be wearing nothing so that he could simply push her back onto the bed and enter her. There would be no obstacle, not even dryness. She would be wet and ready to receive him, to engulf his swollen penis in her tight cunt and bring him rapidly to a glorious climax.
“He is gone,” the doctor said, pulling the sheet up over Ignacio’s head. “His suffering is ended, his soul is now in the hands of God.”
The two nephews stood up. “Thank you doctor,” the older one said, “for all you have done.”
The doctor nodded. “We did our best. There was nothing more we could have done.”
The nephews left the room, and the doctor looked at his watch to note the time of death.
The girl stopped in front of the bed. Ignacio moved up close behind her, took her shoulders and gently turned her round so that she was facing him. Before pushing her down onto the bed, he decided to satisfy his curiosity. Was she wearing panties or not, was she hairy or shaved? He grasped the hem of her skirt and as he did so looked straight into her eyes, which were level with his, wanting to observe her reaction. As he lifted her skirt he felt something touch his hands. She smiled, her expression becoming one of amusement. He looked down to see what his hand had encountered and was surprised to see a penis. But it was no ordinary penis. It was hard and stiff, almost metallic. Its end was pointed and there were backward facing barbs around the head. The curved shaft had been pressed up against her belly, but had dropped as he lifted her skirt. Her scrotum, positioned high up between her thin thighs, was black and shiny and appeared to hold two hard balls. He thought at first she was wearing some kind of dildo, but quickly became convinced that the penis and balls were genuine. She was a he!
Ignacio looked back up at her face in horror and as he did so her smile became broader and her mouth opened. A forked tongue slid out between her lips and she said, in a hoarse basso profundo voice that sent chills deep into his soul, “Bend over, you worthless scum. I’ve a mind to satisfy my desire in your virgin ass.”
Ignacio did not move, he was stunned by the revelation that the girl had a penis, but also did not see why he should obey this skinny and helpless hermaphrodite.
The girl shrugged her shoulders and brought her arms round to her front, snapping the rope and the links of the handcuffs as if they were made of spaghetti. Ignacio noticed that the girl’s elegantly manicured fingernails had become claws.
“No you are not dreaming,” she said as the thought entered his mind. “Welcome to Hell. Now turn round and bend over before I fuck you in your belly.”
Ignacio turned round and was bending down when he felt the sharp tip of her penis rip through his pants and enter his ass. His mind filled with dread as he realized the implications of the backward facing spines.