I'm lying atop a hill overlooking your house, watching as you sunbathe nude beside a large pool. Through the scope of my rifle I can see your skin glistening with a layer of oil, sizeable breasts gently rising and falling as you softly breath. It's interesting how many people in IT support roles have a need for people like me, definitely enough that they make a large portion of my clients. You'd certainly be amazed considering you never even notice them even when destroying their lives.
I let my gaze rove over your exposed flesh as you shift, watch as a hand slips in the gap between your thighs. I press a button on the long-range video camera set up next to me, recording you play with yourself. This client was more specific than useful, wanting more than just a barebones requirement. You start panting as an orgasm approaches, fingers strumming your emerging pearl, and I carefully aim at the jewel in your navel. The sapphire bursts when the bullet powers through it at the moment of climax and you arch your back, too overwhelmed by pleasure to be aware of what's really happening.
Blood pools within your bellybutton as you pant through the afterglow but it isn't long before you're sliding fingers into yourself, the digits sporting a liquid coating when withdrawn. I have to stifle a groan when you sensuously lick the juice off your fingers, and adjust the rifle just to have something to do. I see you push back into more of an upright position as a hand discovers the ruins of your navel, your eyes widening when you notice the blood.
My second shot just misses your right nipple but cuts off the scream building in your lungs. It also makes you convulse through another orgasm, liquid squirting out onto the sun-lounger. You're looking around for me, obviously without success, and go to stand. Through the scope I can almost read your mind, know you think you have to escape, but then I'm not a masochist as you seem to be. You're unsteady on your feet as you touch the bullet holes, mouth half-open as you moan, and I check the aim for my third shot.
Your left nipple explodes, the breast around it compressed slightly by the impact before springing back into shape. You drop to your knees, the hand caressing your stomach moving to cup your newly pierced breast, and I watch as the three rivulets of blood trailing down your torso converge to darken the sparse landing strip of blonde hair above your pussy.
You're panting again, trying to get your breath after two strong orgasms and the puncturing of both lungs. I glance at the camera to ensure it's still got you in its sights, turning it just a bit, and then go back to peering through the scope. I let the rifle drift, my last target framed by the inner curves of your ample breasts, and pull the trigger.
You're thrown onto your back, heart blown open. A few spasms rock your body, a final orgasm?, before your body lies still. I let the camera get a few more seconds of footage, of your tits pointing skyward and pussy pointed towards me, before turning the machine off. I stand, collecting the equipment from around me, and then cast a last glance at your corpse before picking my way down the hill, taking the memory card out of the camera.
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