With a swift stoke of her katana Lynda sliced off the girl's head.

It was the first head she had earned that night, and she needed a good many more before she was certain that she'd stay alive.

The headless body fell to the floor and convulsed as blood flowed freely from the neck.  The victim had been out clubbing, and was wearing a microskirt and tiny tube top, revealing large amounts of leg, cleavage and midriff. This was a good time of night to find attractive women.

That was the aim of the contest - to find more beautiful heads than the other contestants. The winner would be rewarded with a simple prize: the right to keep their own head.

She picked up the head, fastened it to her belt by the hair and quickly darted around the corner. Suddenly she stopped cold. She had heard something: footsteps. Someone was at the other end of the allyway. She stained her eyes to see the figure in the night. It was a woman. She tensed her sword-arm - and then she saw that the woman had a sword of her own. And a severed head tied to her belt. She was also a headhuntress.

Lynda walked forward slowly. She knew that the woman must have seen her, and wanted her head. The two girls approached each other. The second woman was wearing tight hot pants and a jacket that was left open, exposing her naked breasts. Lynda smiled to herself; she always enjoyed seeing the amazing ways that her fellow headhuntresses dressed. The whole business was living out a fantasy, after all, and many of them took the opportunity to dress in ways they never dared to in their day to day lives. Linda was relatively modest: her midriff-baring denim jacket was so short that it exposed most of her upper body, but at least she buttoned it up.

The second woman gripped her sword tightly and darted. Lynda stood and raised her sword, ready to kill before she was killed herself. The woman liftd her sword over her shoulder. Lynda did the same. The woman swung her sword. too late: Lynda had ducked. The woman skidded to a halt behind Lynda, who spun round with her sword. The woman's head was severed. It tumbled to the ground, followed by her body. Lynda breathed a sigh of relief and allowed herself to calm down before taking both of the woman's heads. Those were the rules: if a victim had a trophy of their own, it could be claimed by the victor.

Lynda knew that she'd have to be careful from now on - the three heads attached to her belt made it harder to move freely. She walked a at a leisurely pace along the empty streets until she heard a voice: a young woman talking on her mobile phone. She scurried cautiously towards the sound and found a tall, thin girl showing disappointingly little skin. Too engrossed in her conversation to notice the sword-wielding woman coming up behind her, the girl lost her head without a fight. Lynda claimed her fourth trophy and hoped that her next prize would be another of the scantily-clad girls heading home from a night of clubbing.

She was in luck: just around the corner was an attractively plump young woman wearing a very low-cut T-shirt that showed a generous amount of her large fleshy breasts. It ended a couple of centimetres below her crotch and, as Lynda saw as she got closer, was transparent; the woman was wearing nothing underneath.

Clad only in this skimpy tee, black boots and huge hoop earrings, the girl's jaw dropped in surprise as she saw Lynda, sword in hand and trophies mounted proudly on her belt. She turned tail and began to run, but even with the extra weight Lynda easily caught up with the tubby tart. She swung her sword and removed her head with one clean blow. The girl's chubby body fell to the ground and quivered and jiggled for some time as the blood spurted out of its neck; after attaching the pretty head to her belt Lynda stood transfixed.

Then it was her turn to be surprised. She heard someone running up behind her and dashed out of the way just in time to avoid the sword. She stood poised, read to strike herself, but first took in the amazing sight before her.

The attacking headhuntress had around seven to nine heads attached to her belt - Lynda did not have time to count - and apparently no clothes beneath the waist, giving the impression of a skirt made from severed female heads. She was topless as well, and Lynda's eyes popped - the woman clearly had implants, as each breast was about twice the size of her head.

The woman leaped forward. Lynda parried her blow and made a daring dash behind her assailant. The woman spun round but too late to save her head, which Lynda quickly severed. It tumbled forward and landed face down in the woman's cleavage. The body fell to its knees, sprayed a fountain of blood into the air and then collapsed onto its back. Lynda attached the woman's head to her belt - now full - before removing the headless woman's own belt, heads and all, and slinging it over her shoulder like the strap of a backpack. Not wanting the huge breasts to go to waste, Lynda lay down on the ground and gave each one a long, passionate suck while it was still reasonably warm. Sated, she stood up and was on her way.

Then she heard a voice again. No - voices. A lot. A crowd of young women was nearby. She had hit the jackpot. Racing the source of the noise she found a gang of girls heading down the road, evidently having left a party. A wicked smile appeared on her lips as she dashed into the crowd, the girls barely having time to register what was happening before the heads began to fall.

First, the pretty, freckled redhead in a miniskirt and bikini top was decapitated.

Then, a slightly overweight girl in tight jeans and a skimpy midriff top lost her head. It landed on the pavement, its full lips and blue eyes facing the starlight sky.

Then the blonde girl in a sheer black dress, so low cut that it not only showed a vast amount of cleavge but would have also shown a glimpse of pubic hair, had she not shaved it all off.

Then the black girl wearing a hoodie that was so short it exposed the bottoms of her soft breasts.

By now the remaining three girls were starting to run. Lynda quickly beheaded one of them, a pretty little thing in pigtails and glasses wearing what appeared to be a slutty schoolgirl outfit from a fancy dress shop.

Lynda then dropped her sword and grabbed hold of the other two girls by their shoulders to make sure they didn't escape. She flung them to the ground; they looked up at her. Picking up her sword again she removed the head of the skinny goth girl in a black T-shirt.

She turned her attention to the remaining girl. She was wearing a spaghetti strap top rolled up to show her plump stomach, and a tiny skirt. Thanks to the compromising position that the girl was in, Lynda saw that she had no underwear - and that she was wet.

"You dirty little thing," said Lynda, laughing. "Part of you enjoyed seeing your friends beheaded!"

The girl was scared for her life and breathing heavily. Thinking that her attacker may spare the life of a kindred spirit, she admitted to her kink.

"Y.. yes, miss," she replied. "I've always fantasised about beheadings."

"Your own?", asked Lynda.

"Other people's", squeaked the girl.

"Too bad," said Lynda. "I could have satisfied two fantasies for you tonight." So saying, she laid her sword down onto the girl, removing her head.

Lynda looked around. All these heads and bodies. She removed the black girl's belt and set about attaching the heads to it before slinging it over her free shoulder. She counted the heads that she had collected that night - twenty-two in all. Pretty damn good for a first night. But would it be good enough?

She arrived at the convention hall and looked around. There were about twelve or thirteen hunters; some only had one or two heads and clearly wouldn't survive the night. Others had about the same amount as Lynda. She started to sweat, trying to count the heads that she could see.

The hostess stepped into the room, wearing a sexy red dress with a neckline that plunged a few inches under her navel, her breasts threatening to spill out.

"Ah," exclaimed the hostess, adding a tick to a piece of paper on the wall. "That just leaves two more."

"Oh, I killed two headhuntresses tonight," said Lynda, fumbling at her trophies but failing to find the relevant heads. The hostess believed her anyway.

"Well, that means that all of the surviving members on the guestlist are here today," announced the hostess. "Time to begin counting!"

She pointed to an Asian girl in a violet tube top and cutoff jean shorts who climbed onto the stage. It was clear that she had lost - she had only two heads. The hostess's assistant, a busty girl in a bikini, followed the girl and helped the hostess load her into a guillotine and execute her. Her head was picked up and placed onto a desk, her body rolled to the side. The crowd cheered.

When the cheering had abated a skinny little thing with long blonde hair was called. She had an impressive amount - nineteen heads.

"Hmm, good effort," said the hostess. "But I can see from here that some of tonight's hunters have in excess of twenty heads."

The skinny woman nodded slowly and took her place in the guillotine. Soon, her head sat next to the Asian girl's head, and her body lay on top of the Asian girl's body. As the crowd cheered Lynda giggled - the headless bodies appeared to be in an intimate position.

Then a few male hunters had their trophies counted. They had all come short of twenty and were sent offstage to be executed in private - the audience was not interested in male beheadings.

Then it was Lynda's turn. The hostess counted. Lynda was extremely nervous and tried to keep her mind off her possible death by focusing on the hostess's pink areolas peeking out from under her dress.

"Twenty-two heads", said the hostess. "You might have pulled through. We'll wait and see."

Lynda headed back into the audience, joining the other seven headhuntresses. She had not relaxed.

The next woman - completely naked, except for her shoes and belt - was invited onto the stage. She had only twenty-one trophies. By this point the crowd was too worried to cheer quite so enthusiastically when she was beheaded.

A girl with a baseball cap, rolled-up top and tiny tennis shorts was called up. She had twenty-two heads. Lynda let out a small gasp - if a tiebreaker was called for, the huntress whose heads were deemed the most beautiful would win. Even if she was not beaten in number, Lynda may still lose in looks.

A chubby, good-looking young woman with a bikini bottom and no top was called to the stage. The crowd let out a nervous laugh as she did so - she had only one trophy. She was duly dispatched and the women all got a little wet as they saw her fat breasts jiggle while her headless body convulsed.

A tall dominatrix in bondage gear was next. Lynda tried desperately to count the heads on her belt - it was over eighteen, that was for sure. The hostess counted, and Lynda sighed with relief when it turned out that she had only twenty-one trophies. The dominatrix lost her head after that.

Then came a black girl in a halter top with sixteen heads, a naked pigtailed girl with ten heads and a midriff-baring brunette with four heads. They were all killed, leaving only Lynda and the girl in tennis shorts.

"And now," said the hostess as the assistant in the bikini eyed the two surviving huntresses approvingly, "It's time for the tie-breaker! If you would both step on stage..."

The two girls did so. The hostess examined their trophies for a few agonising minutes.

"What do you think, Giselle?" she asked at last, turning to her assistant.

"I think the girl in the cap has the most beautiful heads," replied the bikini-clad cutie.

Lynda gasped. Had she lost? But the final decision belonged to the hostess.

Finally, the hostess gave her verdict. Smiling, she laid her hand on the shoulder of the girl in the cap.

"I'm sorry, love," she said. "The girl in denim wins. But you get the consolation prize!" She gestured to her assistant. "You get to cut off one last had before you lose your own!"

The girl in the tennis shorts and cap smiled bravely up at the hostess before turning to face the assistant. She raised her sword and quickly sliced off her smiling head. Lynda applauded politely and hugged the girl.

"Are you ready?" asked Lynda.

"Yes," whispered the girl.

Lynda raised her sword and quickly beheaded the skinny little thing. her head fell to the ground and her body spurted blood - a sight that Lynda knew that she'd never get tired of.

The hostess took Lynda's hand. "I've got one last thing for you," she said sweetly.

Lynda blinked. "I thought that the only prize was to keep my head, and all the trophies I've earned?"

"Ordinarily, that would be the case," said the hostess as she led Lynda into a back room. More assistants stood waiting, some in bikinis, some topless, some naked. "But I think I've been in this job long enough. It's time I passed the baton."

Lynda looked up in surprise. "You mean you want me...?" she began.

The hostess nodded. "I want you to take my place. And the first head you can claim in your new job will be mine."

Lynda broke out into a smile. "You're really letting me take your head?"

The hostess smiled. Lynda couldn't believe her luck - the hostess's beautiful head! And her headless body, too, all to herself!

"And these heads, too," said the hostess, gesturing to the assistants around the room. "Pick one as your personal assistant to replace Giselle, and decapitate the rest."

Lynda beamed up at the generous hostess. The assistants smiled at their new mistress.

Lynda raised her sword and sliced off the sweet, smiling head of the hostess. Her body fell to the floor, its convulsions finally freeing her large pink breasts from her tight dress. The assistants cheered.

Lynda laughed despite herself. She imagined all of her trophies mounted on the wall, the hostess's beautiful head in the centre. And then remembered that she had a whole load more heads to claim once she'd picked her assistant.

"So go on then, sweet stuff," said a smiling assistant in a bikini. "There's twenty of us - which of us gets to keep our pretty little head?"