Chapter 1

The client's physical appearance certainly was promising. While she was well over a century old, by choice she was an attractive, vivacious redhead with a firm, healthy late teen-age face and body, and had a sparkle in her eye that belied her chronological age.

But, the man from EXITS reminded himself, her interests must intersect suitably with the new Come As You Go service EXITS was introducing.

That she was here to schedule her Exit wasn't an issue. That was a given. The issue was how she wanted to Exit, and would she be interested in the new service.

"Before we go into details, Melissa, are you aware of the new "Come As You Go" service we are introducing?" he asked.

"Yes, I've seen the adverts. That's why I'm here. It excites me, but I'm not sure I understand how it works."

"It's a patented technology which we feel offers a more fulfilling experience by closely tailoring your Exit to your deepest fantasies."

He drew a deep breath and launched into his spiel.

"As I'm sure you know, our traditional service creates a scenario leading up to Exit based on your stated wishes -- sets and props, even a simple script. Take, for example, our Reign of Terror scenario."

The vid wall behind him lit up to show a recording of one of their most popular Exits, a period Parisian street scene. A young woman in period costume was led up to a guillotine, rudely stripped naked, bent over the bascule. Her neck secured in the lunette she was fucked from behind and beheaded in a spray of blood during her orgasm.

"In our new Come As You Go service, we look more deeply into your fantasies, even into the depth of your psyche, to give you a peak experience. We begin by using our patented sensor technology to gather a multi-faceted sensory/psycho/physiological/emotional recording of your fantasy Exit, right up to and including the exact state you want to be in so it can be recreated when you do make your Exit.

"During actual implementation of your Exit, our patented, highly sophisticated sensor web tracks your sensory/psycho/physiological/emotional state, or SPPES, and executes the termination when you attain that desired state. Put simply, if you want to die during an orgasm we guarantee you'll Come As You Go, at the level of pleasure you desire."

While he talked a quick series of vignettes had showed scenes of both men and women Exiting at the peak of sexual pleasure, using a number of different Exit methods. Running below the images were multiple graphs like an old IKG, the waving lines tracking blood pressure, pulse and a number of other physiological functions.

In one a man was shot in the back of the head as he was fucking a lovely woman. In another a man and a woman Exited simultaneously as they engaged in coitus, a skilled executioner decapitating them both with a single sweep of his sword.

In every case the Exit came as the graphs peaked. The total display was obviously computer generated using avatars, and not very good ones at that.

That was bad enough, but he hated the script the PR people had given him, and did his best to make it sound less stilted. While the computer generated audio-visual presentations for the new service were no more than adequate at least that would be remedied when they'd recorded some real Come As You Go scenarios. So far the system had been tested only with live actors, halting short of the actual Exit. The script plain sucked, and he did his best to smooth it out without getting in trouble.

"While the development process is a bit more time consuming, requiring a number of biometric measurements it is not unpleasant and quite straightforward. After you tell us what you want, what fantasy you might have that you'd like fulfilled, we guide you in visualizing the entire process while recording every facet of your SPPES so we can match your Exit experience to your fantasy with 99.999% accuracy.

"Simply put, in a suitably quiet, private setting, we invite you to fantasize and masturbate or, if you prefer, actually interact with a partner of your choice as if this were to be your actual Exit, while recording your SPPES parameters. When you reach point at which you want to Exit you mark it through nothing more than a vocalization or the push of a button.

"Then, at the time of your actual Exit the same sensor web tracks your SPPES and when your biometrics reach the point you've marked the program terminates you. The entire process, both the preparatory recording and the final Exit process are neither invasive or distracting, since the sensors don't require any physical contact."

On the screen an avatar was masturbating furiously until she arched in orgasm, at which point her head exploded in a spray of computer generated gore. It was a bit more graphic than he liked, but the nerds who had developed the display insisted it was what the public loved.

"Orgasm," Melissa breathed excitedly, "definitely orgasm. I want to die at the peak of the greatest possible orgasm."

Virtually every Exit he had administered since Exits had opened operations had contained a strong erotic element, which was why he had urged development of this new service. He found the glitter in the client's green eyes and the flush on her face most encouraging, and arousing.

"Oh, and privacy during the preparation process won't be necessary," the client went on, almost panting. "I'm quite comfortable displaying my sexuality. Would you like to start recording me now?"

"In time. That will be phase two. This interview is phase one of our four stage process. The recording process requires a more controlled environment than this office, using our newly patented Come As You Go technology."

"Oh, of course, how silly of me."

"Also, since human responses are variable, the recording process may require several repetitions to attain a statistically viable result.

"As I said, that's phase two. Phase three, which runs concurrently with phase two, essentially duplicates our standard process, where we work with you to create the physical scenario you desire, sets and props, provisions for an audience and participants if desired..."

"An audience, definitely, and participants -- my friends, as many past lovers as I can locate," she assured him eagerly. "I have a list..."

Her enthusiasm was charmingly in character with her youthful appearance. "We can work out details later. Right now I just want you to understand the procedure."

"Of course, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I guess I'm just a bit eager. Please, go on."

She was looking better and better as a candidate for the new service. His major concern had been finding people with a willingness to "rehearse" their Exit during Phase Two.

"Phase four is the Exit process itself," he explained. "Once it begins the computer is in control of everything and no input from you is required. Using the same patented sensors we employed in Phase Two the computer tracks your SPPES and adjusts the program accordingly, in real time, until you reach your peak. The instant you reach the optimum SPPES..."

"When I come, I die," she interrupted excitedly. The way she breathed that last word made his hair prickle.

"You die," he agreed, catching her flicker of excitement as he said it. The gleam in her eye was almost enough to make him repeat it.

"Can I interrupt or discontinue the scenario if I decide I'm not ready to die?"

"Yes, but by default, the program is set to proceed to conclusion. An escape option can be programmed in, to be activated by a safe word or action. However, you would be liable for the costs incurred to that point, plus a penalty for lost future revenues."

"Future revenues?"

She would pick up on that phrase! he reflected wryly.

"By its very nature, our newly patented process is expensive, involving as it does recording everything in full, multi-sensory mode using the patented technology we've developed. An important revenue stream which will allow us to keep our rates low, is telecast re-runs of recorded Exits. Our contract gives us ownership of all rights, present and future, to your Exit, should you agree to any public display. Even one participant or outside witness at your Exit constitutes a public display, and you have said you want an audience.

"I probably shouldn't tell you this," he went on, "but, in your case, given your perceptible youth, vivacity and beauty, the revenues from your Exit are potentially substantial."

She laughed nervously. "Revenues I shall not live to enjoy."

Her found her forthrightness truly charming. "Just so. However, sharing of these rights is negotiable, should you like to bequeath a portion to someone, descendants, for example."

She nibbled on her bottom lip -- a delectably full bottom lip. She was visibly aroused simply from discussing the process -- respiration was accelerated, beads of sweat on her upper lip, flushing of her cheeks, her nipples prominent beneath the fashionably sheer top she wore. "Suppose -- uh -- does the process have to conclude with my first orgasm, or can it occur after, say, several orgasms?"

"It is quite flexible, actually. The process can be programmed to execute at a single orgasm, after a specific number of orgasms, as detected by our sensors, or at a random orgasm count, regardless of intensity. It can also be when your orgasm reaches or exceeds a given intensity as determined by our sensors, or any combination of those parameters. For example, after the orgasms exceed a certain level a certain number of times, or even a random number of times, the program will terminate. There is a reasonable time limit, of course. It will definitely terminate sometime before that runs out."

"Oh, I like those last options. I'd never know which orgasm would be the one to kill me." She was leaning forward in her chair with excitement. "I'd approach each orgasm thinking this one could be it."

She was practically panting.

"Exactly."

"Yes! That's what want! I want the uncertainty, the steadily increasing tension that the next one might be the one where I die."

He liked that she accepted that word so he didn't need to pussy-foot around it. That triggered another thought. "You're afraid of dying."

She looked surprised. "Aren't all your clients afraid of dying?"

"Oh my, no. Many of them just want to get the process over with in an interesting way. They're bored with life. Often they like to plan and enjoy a theme party before they Exit, but they're not afraid to die."

He thought a moment, reviewing past Exits. "Well, actually, that's not quite accurate. Many are in a state of denial that this really is the end. They're just planning a new, unique adventure at the end of what has become an interminable life. At the moment of execution they may feel a sudden flash of anxiety, but that's all.

"Of course," he added pensively, "we have no way of knowing what is actually on their minds at the moment they die."

She giggled tensely. "No complaints from dissatisfied customers?"

He laughed with her. "Not one."

She rushed on. "Well, I find the idea of dying terrifying. Barring an accident I could live forever. I'm immortal, of course, which only makes me appreciate my life more. The idea of losing it scares me -- uh -- to death, so to speak. It's the fear that tantalizes me, arouses me. I'm an adrenalin junky. I've tried any number of risky activities, usually incorporating and erotic element, just for the thrill. I've also found that fear heightens my orgasmic pleasure. The greater the fear the greater the orgasm.

"I recently made love at the top of Half Dome, that strange stone mountain in Yosemite with a vertical drop on one side. I made my lover promise to throw me to my death as I came. After holding off my orgasm off for as long as I could I came like a banshee. He flexed his arms as if to throw me off, which only sent my orgasm even higher, but then broke his promise." She sighed. "He said he couldn't bear to part with me, and that the promise had been coerced. I was so pissed I almost kicked him over the edge."

She seemed disappointed, then went on. "I want to be in a situation where I know it could happen at any time -- as I'm coming, that is -- that it WILL happen, that at some point I definitely will die. I want to experience that terror leading up to every orgasm, the knowledge that each one might be my last. If possible want to die at the peak of my greatest orgasm ever."

He found himself aroused, and eager to help her out. Her youth and vivacity, however medical science attained it, made her an ideal candidate for the first demonstration of Exits' new, patented, Come As You Go process. She would indeed come, and go.

He also foresaw excellent profit opportunities. He hated to be so crass, but with the arrival of so many competing services in the Exits industry, along with do-it-yourselfers and freelancers who often operated with no more overhead than a rope, gun or knife, competition had become cut-throat. This new value added Come As You Go service could provide a decisive competitive advantage, at least until someone could get around the patents. But then, R&D had some interesting projects in the works to advance the technology.

"We will be honored to provide that experience. Now, let's get down to some details, shall we? Let's start with how you want to die and work our way backwards from there. All our equipment is portable, so we could even go on location to replicate your Half Dome scenario, assuming the appropriate permissions can be obtained."

"Half Dome was nice, the thought of that long fall," she answered cheerily, her eyes sparkling, "but what if it didn't kill me? What if I just wound up paralyzed or something. I think decapitation. I like the sound of the word, and the guillotine gives me a rush."

"Guillotine it is," he said, pleased, making a note in her file. That marvelous machine was highly visual, making scenarios using it a best seller with voyeurs. Perhaps they could give her a reduced rate for the service in anticipation of future revenues. He'd have to talk to the bean counters and legal about that.

As they worked together to refine her scenario they both became more aroused. The thought of her strapped to the guillotine as she was fucked to death was incredibly exciting. When the final scenario was locked in, leaving them both unbelievably aroused, he was delighted to discover that her body was, indeed, as fit, vital, and responsive as he'd hoped. At the moment of their mutual coming, there on the carpeted floor of his office, right against the floor to ceiling windows, so she could see the precipitous drop outside, he whispered to her, "you will die, you know."

He felt her orgasm surge, her cunt clutching at his jetting cock, confirming her psychological trigger and just how eager she was to enjoy this program.

Two months later, backstage at the theater rented for the purpose, Melissa's excitement at her imminent death was only greater.

"Is it time yet?" she asked yet again.

"Not quite." She reminded him of his children on a trip he'd taken with them when they were quite young. "There's some discussion as to whether it is one orgasm per participant, or if someone can give you multiple orgasms, which we know you are quite capable of. The multiple orgasms option seems to be favored, with a time limit."

"Oh God!" Melissa was almost dancing with excitement. She was nude beneath a soft, flowing, virginal white, ankle length robe, her lovely breasts jiggling, her fully erect nipples quite prominent beneath the light, sheer fabric. "Oh God! Am I really going to die?"

"Indeed you are," the man of Exits assured her. "As you requested, once it begins there is no turning back."

"I've never been so wet before! I feel like I'm going to piss myself right here."

"I thought you wanted to save that for later during the process," he noted dryly.

She nodded, knotting her hands at her crotch like a child struggling to hold it until she reached the toilet. Unable to bear it any longer, she made a dash for the bathroom.

No matter. He knew she'd probably piss again before the program ended. She'd certainly piss when it did end.

The setup was simple, designed to maximize both her experience and the voyeuristic thrills of an audience, both live and via telecast.

Wagering as to which orgasm would be THE ONE was heavy.

Just as she returned from the bathroom there was a soft chime and the house lights began to dim. She visibly paled and he had to steady her for a moment. She suddenly threw her arms around him and gave him a powerful hug and a long, passionate kiss. He embraced her lissome body, painfully aware he feeling her against him for the last time.

"Thank you," she whispered hotly, her tongue giving his ear a teasing flick. "Good bye."

"Good bye." He felt a pang at the thought of losing of her.

I was so excited. My heart was racing as I stepped out on what seemed an empty stage.

I knew better. Upstage, lurking in the dark, behind a scrim, was my assassin.

The house lights were down, so I couldn't see the audience, and for a moment the room was so quiet that I had the feeling the entire audience was holding its breath. Then there was a polite wave of applause as the spotlight came up on me in my oh-so sheer robe, and I could see ghostly faces. As I moved the breeze of my walk molded the light fabric to my breasts, to my turgid nipples, the trim plane of my belly, the graceful curve of my thighs, the robe opening to reveal a flash of leg with every step. Cool air toyed with my aroused pussy.