Sole Submission: Tammy the Assassin
Tammy walked into her gourmet kitchen standing in front of the massive island and pouring herself a glass of wine before looking at a picture and placing a sequence of touches onto the tiles and then stepping back. The island began to slowly open up, reveling a staircase that lead downstairs that always brought a smile to Tammy’s lips. “This never gets old..” she murmured as she slowly descended into her “office.”
The air in the room was always cool, sterile, and laced with the faint metallic tang of her custom ventilation system. She had designed the space herself—soundproofed walls, a reinforced steel door under the island and a biometric lock that responded only to her fingerprint and retinal scan that activated the tiles. No one knew this room existed, and that was exactly how she liked it. On the outside her modern four bedroom home looked well suited to the neighborhood, the single story looked right at place and the contractors who build this room had enjoyed a wonderful evening—Tammy thanking them for a job well done. When they woke the next day they were in their work vans and had no memory of the past few months—but their bank s were all very healthy.
Her office/lab was a symphony of precision. Glass vials, each filled with liquids ranging from clear to inky black, lined the shelves like soldiers at attention. Labels marked with names like “Obedience”, “Forget-Me-Not”, and “Silent Night” glinted under the LED strips. These weren’t just drugs; they were tools, each formulated to exploit the weaknesses of the human mind. “Obedience” was her favorite—a fast-acting serum that slipped into the bloodstream through the thinnest , rendering the subject pliable, and eager to please.
Tammy’s computer setup was equally impressive. Three monitors displayed encrypted emails, security feeds from her targets’ homes, and a live map of the city, pinpointing locations of interest. With help from a friend she had hacked into various cities traffic cams years ago, a little pet project that had paid off more times than she could count. Tonight, though, her focus was on the message that had just pinged her secure inbox.
New Contract:
Target: Gregory Voss. Crime: Embezzlement. Client: Anonymous. Method: Must appear as a suicide. Bonus: Substantial if his credibility is damaged as well.
She leaned back in her ergonomic chair, her fingers steepled under her chin. Gregory Voss. Mid-forties, divorced pleasant looking, a penchant for gambling and expensive scotch. He had skimmed a million and a half from a syndicate that didn’t take kindly to theft. The syndicate wanted him gone, but they wanted it quiet—no mess, no loose ends. A suicide would do nicely.
Tammy pulled up his file, scrolling through his daily routine. She noticed he frequented “The Velvet Hush,” a dimly lit upscale bar downtown, every Tuesday and Thursday like clockwork. Perfect. She reached for a vial of Obedience, rolling it between her fingers. A few drops on her nylon-clad toes, a brush against his ankle, and Gregory Voss would be hers to command.
She stood a knowing smile on her face, stretching her arms above her head it was to prepare.
The bar was exactly the kind of place men like Gregory Voss went to forget their problems. The air was thick with the smell of aged whiskey and the low hum of conversation, punctuated by the occasional clink of glass. Tammy had chosen her outfit carefully—a knee-length black dress that hugged her curves, sheer nylons that shimmered under the bar’s mood lighting, and a blonde wig that framed her face in soft waves. She looked approachable, unassuming, the kind of woman a man like Gregory would feel comfortable chatting up.
Tammy slid onto a stool at the far end of the bar, crossing her legs with deliberate slowness. The hem of her dress rode up just enough to tease, and she caught Gregory’s gaze in the mirror behind the bartender. He was nursing a glass of what looked like Macallan 18, his tie loosened, his expression weary. She gave him a small smile, just enough to invite him in without seeming desperate.
“Mind if I you?” she asked, her voice a smooth contralto as she slid onto the stool beside him. Gregory glanced at her, his eyes flicking down to her legs before meeting her gaze.
“Be my guest,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
Tammy ordered a gin and tonic, more for the appearance of normalcy than anything else. She didn’t need alcohol to loosen her inhibitions. As they chatted making small talk about the bar’s mediocre jazz playlist, the unseasonable weather—she let her foot drift closer to his under the bar. Her toes, encased in sheer nylon, found the hem of his tros and traced slow, deliberate circles against his ankle brining a smile to his face.
“You come here often?” she asked, her voice laced with just the right amount of curiosity.
Gregory chuckled, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Too often, probably. It’s either this or my house, and my home is too quiet.” Gregory noticed the first brush of her nylon toes, warmth spreading up his leg.
Tammy hummed in sympathy, her toes continuing their slow dance against his skin keeping him distracted with conversation. She felt the moment the drug took hold—his posture relaxed, his grip on the glass loosened, his pupils dilated just slightly. “Obedience” was fast, but it wasn’t subtle. Not to someone who knew what they were to looking for.
“You know,” she murmured, leaning in just enough that he could catch the faint scent of her perfume—floral and something darker, something primal—“I’ve always believed in the power of suggestion.”
Gregory’s smile turned lazy, his focus entirely on her. “Yeah?”
“For example do you find my eyes attractive, could you find yourself staring into them?”
“Yes they are very pretty, very easy to look into…”
Gregory watched, mesmerized, as Tammy held his gaze her eyes were indeed beautiful—a deep, emerald green, they seemed to catch the light and he felt as if they were pulling him in. She smiled speaking softly…
“Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” she asked, her voice soft, hypnotic.
Gregory shook his head, his eyes locked on hers “No,” he breathed.
Tammy held her gaze, her breasts subtly rising and falling in the background as she leaned forward. She could see the moment his focus narrowed, his breathing slowing, his mind opening to her suggestions. “When you see these eyes,” she said, her voice a velvet command, “you’ll obey my every word. Repeat it, Gregory.”
“I’ll obey your every word when I see your eyes,” he echoed, his voice distant, dreamy.
She let the suggestion sink in, watching as his pupils dilated further, his body sagging slightly in his seat. “Very good.” She slowly stroked his hand before asking, “Do you mind if I step away I need to use the little girls room, and would you mind if I borrowed these?” Tammy reached into his pocket taking his home keys from him.
Tammy took the keys, her fingers brushing against his palm. “Thanks,” she said, her voice warm. “I’ll be right back”
In the restroom Tammy quickly took out her molding clay and made two impressions of his home keys, ensuring they were accurate before she placed the molds into her purse.
She returned it to Gregory with another smile, returning his keys and watching as he pocketed them without a second thought. The drug would keep him docile, his memories of their encounter fuzzy at best.
“Gregory thank you for a wonderful conversation, in your mind you will having a nice talk with me you enjoyed it and you wished me a good evening before returning to your drink, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, tie was a nice talk I hope we see each other again…good evening.” Gregory a far off look in his eyes returned to his drink barely noticing as Tammy got up and walked away into the night.
It was the following day when Tammy made her move. Gregory’s house was a modern affair—all sharp angles and floor-to-ceiling windows, the kind of place that screamed new money. Tammy let herself in, her black bodysuit clinging to every curve, the peephole over her breasts a deliberate distraction, her hair neatly tucked under her form fitting hood. She moved silently through the house, her gloved hands leaving no prints, her boots making no sound on the hardwood floors leaving no impression in her wake.
Tammy placed small cameras in Gregory’s living room and went upstairs to the guest bedroom to wait, hiding in the closet and settling in for the wait. She had memorized his schedule and smiled as right on time Gregory returned to his home after a long day of work.
She watched the feed on her iPad hearing him before she saw him—the clink of ice in a glass, the soft sigh as he sank into his favorite armchair. Tammy allowed Gregory to get comfortable and sit awhile before she moved and positioned herself at the top of the stairs, watching as Gregory poured himself yet another bourbon. He looked exhausted, the weight of his crimes etched into the lines of his face. She almost felt sorry for him… Almost.
“Evening, Gregory,” she said, stepping into the living room.
He turned, his eyes widening as he took in her outfit, the peephole capturing his attention before his gaze moved up to her beautiful eyes. “How did you—?”
“Shhh,” Tammy said, letting him make with her eyes. “Just relax.”
Gregory’s resistance crumbled like wet paper. “That’s it just focus on my eyes, look deeper and deeper, the are so pretty so hypnotic, allow them to become your focus.
Gregory took in the sight before him, the beauty had wonderful eyes, and the peep hole top showed the attractive rise and fall and swell of her breasts. Now fully under Tammy’s hypnotic spell he failed to question why her head was covered and only her face and breasts were visible, instead he listened to her soft voice and obeyed her every command.
She handed him a writing tablet and a pen, her gloved fingers brushing against his. “Gregory you have been a very, very naughty boy. Now I want to to do something for me Gregory, write everything down, good boy” she murmured. “it what you’ve done.”
His hand moved on its own, the words flowing across the paper in shaky, uneven script: “I stole from them. I’m sorry. I can’t live with the guilt.”
“That’s it my dear, good boy,” Tammy praised, her voice a soothing whisper. She moved to the table getting his iPad for him, navigating to a private tab and opening a foot fetish video. Her intel had revealed that Gregory had a thing for women’s feet, and Tammy planned on fully exploiting his weakness.
“Now before you watch the video I have for your, please look at my foot” Tammy sat across from Gregory taking off her boot and sock and slowly flexing her pretty perfectly pedicured foot and toes. Gregory was instantly transfixed her well shaped toes and slender foot trapping him in a gaze that was impossible to break free from, a faint memory of those toes in soft nylon playing on his ankle and shins.
“They are very pretty so nice to watch…” He was fascinated by the movement of her feet and the subtle shine of her pretty pink toenail polish.
“Gregory please be a dear and remove your belt for me, and please unzip and open your pants for me” Gregory quickly obeyed his eyes never leaving her sensually flexing foot.
“Now be a good dear and play with yourself for me, up and down, stroke up and down, just like my foot is moving up and down, up and down…”
Gregory didn’t question it, he stroked himself as Tammy continued her encouragement before asking him, “Gregory please start the video on your tablet, isn’t it wonderful?”
His eyes locked in on the video, in it a woman with beautifully arched feet and long toes was using them on her boyfriend who was trying to resist booking her dream vacation. He was fixated on the video as her nylon covered toes were curling and spreading in front of their target—Gregory’s breathing quickened.
Tammy watched as his breathing picked up slowly putting on her sock and boot and walking over to him. She placed a plastic bag over his head before instructing him to put the belt around his neck and the bag and pull it tight.
“Good boy, now watch and stroke yourself, feel her feet touching you just like they are touching him in the video, that’s it breathe deep and just stroke for me.”
Gregory continued his stroking as the video played on, the clear bag fogging as he was close to climax, “that’s it you are so close, finish for me, finish and surrender, cum Gregory, cum for me now.”
Tammy watched has a shudder ran through his body spurts of jiz coating his pants and his hand. The fog in the bag increased as his other hand continued to hold the bag closed as he pulled on the belt around his neck. Tammy watched as his breathing continued to slow his body eventually going limp in the chair. She waited five additional minutes before checking his pulse and then removing her cameras and making sure she left no trace of her ever having been there. Tammy let herself out, again using her key to ensure the doors were all locked tight.
Tammy made her way slowly through the neighborhood, using the trees to hide her presence taking a long route back to where her car had been parked. She quickly changed into casual clothes and drove back to her home, now she simply had to sit back and wait for someone to report Gregory’s demise.
A few days later now back in her lab, Tammy checked her offshore . The payout was there along with a tabloid clip talking about the “circumstances” of Gregory’s demise—a significant bonus was included in the payout.
She poured herself a drink, the amber liquid catching the light as she swirled it in her glass. “To silent commands,” she murmured, toasting the screen before taking a sip another job had been successfully completed—perhaps it was time for that vacation in Croatia after all..