This was the moment I’d been waiting for — my daughter’s latest execution routine.

We were sat in the darkness for around ten seconds, and I began to wonder if anything was wrong, when suddenly a head appeared outside the ring, illuminated by a tight follow spot beam. It sported a pink nose and white whiskers, and belonged to a naked boy in his mid-teens who began to crawl out into the centre of the ring, his brown mouse tail swaying from side to side.

As he got closer and the follow spot beam expanded, I could see that he had cuffs on his hands and feet, attached by thin chain to a steel cable that disappeared into a hole in the centre of the ring. He was forced to crawl by himself, or be dragged along by the cable; he would end up in the centre of the ring either way.

Out of the shadows my daughter appeared, creeping along on all fours, head down, looking intently in front of her. After a few wiggles of her bottom, she pounced on the boy.

Initially he tried to resist, but was surprised when she wagged her finger at him, caressed his head tenderly, and then beckoned him to stand.

Two familiar metal poles slowly arose out of the sand, and my daughter began clipping the boy’s cuffs to the rings on them.

While she was doing this I studied her costume — a sexy black skin-tight one-piece cat suit, open at the neck, with furry gloves, tail and ears. Her face was fully made-up to look like a cat’s.

The mouse was now at the cat’s mercy; and cats are known for playing with their prey. My daughter began caressing the boy’s head again, and then kissed him on the lips, before licking his neck and moving further down his body.

Her hands fondled his nipples and skirted around his back before she continued her downward exploration.

By now the boy had a rock hard erection, and my daughter feigned surprise when she saw it, to the delight to the crowd.

She pawed the boy’s cock like a cat would play with a toy, watching it bounce hungrily. Finally, she took it into her mouth and sucked it until the boy’s expression turned to one of ecstasy, and I could see his cock spasm as it filled my daughter’s mouth with his cum.

The crowd went wild.

Needless to say, the routine so far had turned me on immensely, and my hand was fumbling around in my pocket. I glanced at my wife and was relieved to see her hand under her skirt too.

My daughter had crossed another threshold this evening.

The boy was grinning ear-to-ear as my daughter got to her feet and went around behind him. She held her hands out, fingers spread, and then with a smirk, gave them a sharp shake.

Long claw-shaped blades appeared at the ends of her fingers, and the noise of the crowd intensified in anticipation. The boy suddenly tensed, unsure of what had caused their reaction, since he couldn’t see what was going on behind him.

I never got to see the next part of the routine.

A stocky man and a butch woman stormed the ring, and, to my horror, ran behind my daughter holding baseball bats aloft. Together they mercilessly beat my daughter’s back and legs, and she fell to the ground like a stone.

Before I could fully take in this outrage, I heard screams from behind me and people began rising from their seats. I turned to look, and could see two more people methodically moving down the aisles swinging machetes at whoever was nearest.

I looked at my wife and shouted over the screams, “We need to get to Jane!”

But people were now clambering over seats in their desperation to escape, and they knocked us down to the ground as they did so.

Managing to peek over the seat in front of me, I could see the rebels in the ring had turned their attention to the boy, and were busy removing his cuffs from the rings on the poles. My heart leapt as I saw my daughter slowly crawling out of the ring to the left.

The male rebel took the boy up in his arms and ran out of the ring to the right. The female rebel followed, but stopped at the edge of the ring and fumbled for something in her pocket. She eventually got it out, pulled something from it, and threw it into the glass tank.

It took me a couple of seconds to process what was happening, but then I turned to my wife and jumped on top of her, covering her head with my hands and shouting, “Stay down love!”

The grenade exploded, sending a million shards of glass and drops of acid into the crowd. A flood of acid washed down the aisles. The blast bent one of the tent poles, causing the canvas roof to rip, and light streamed in from outside.

In the pandemonium that followed we somehow managed to get to our feet and into the ring. Looking behind me, I saw bloodied people slumped over seats, others wailing as they held their hands to their eyes, and piles of crushed bodies at the exits being further trampled as the rebels continued to hack away indiscriminately.

We made our way backstage and came upon our daughter lying in a pool of blood in the entrance doorway, trapped underneath the body of the female rebel, whose throat appeared to be slit. In the distance I could see the male rebel running across the common carrying the boy.