The (ill fated) Guardian
Posted by Barbanne on March 17, 2004 at 21:34:53:
The bitch Annette had threatened our operation completely.
She could have blown the whole thing.
That was why the boys had snatched her and bought her here to the cabin in the mountains, the remote cabin where no-one would find her in a zillion years. They had tied her up and locked her in the old store room and they had entrusted me with guarding her. Me, Barbanne, their gun girl and moll.
I had stuff to read and keep me occupied and I was to keep her locked away until they told me what to do with her. Left to myself I'd have just shot the bitch and dumped her, but Danny didn't want that. "Keep her safe Barb and we'll get rid of her when the deal goes down and the heat dies away."
I agreed. I'd do anything for Danny as long as he kept fucking me. Nobody fucks like Danny, never have, never will.
I had to feed Annette and take her to the can, that sort of thing. When I went in she tried to talk to me but I wasn't having any of that. No way, not that silver tongued bitch.
Annette was a big broad, well tall and very pretty in an Amazonian sort of way. Red haired and she worked out plenty. I was glad she was tied tight as I wouldn't fancy backing myself in a fight with her, I'm small and sort of puny and I really need a gun to be tough.
It was cold up here in the mountains but I had gotten a fire going and so out here where it was warm all I needed to wear was the dress I had come up in. That was lightweight and pretty short but I didn't really need anything else, not even a cardigan. In where Annette was it stayed pretty cool and despite the fact that she had jeans and a tee shirt with a padded jacket and her feet had thick socks and boots, lots heavier than my slides, she was cold and complained of it every time I went in there.
"You're out here Barbanne and you're warm but its freezing back in there and I'm damned uncomfortable," she said when I took her to the can.
"Just shut the fuck up Annette and think yourself lucky you're alive," I snapped.
She was a tricky bitch that Annette and I wasn't having any of it where she was concerned.
I reckoned she must have accepted she was going nowhere cause she mostly just sat there whenever I took her food in, staring at me unfriendly like.
Then on the second day I took her evening meal in and she was sitting there watching me, still careful like.
"Barbanne can you come over here?"
"I'm getting mighty sore and my wrists and ankles are swelling and can you please just shift the ropes a bit, please?"
I liked it when she said please and stuff, made me feel I was in control. I went over and lifted her bound wrists.
Like a rattler striking she flicked forward and somehow she had gotten her hands free and had the rope loose and next thing the bitch had it around my neck.
I struggled and pounded at her with my fists but she was way strong.
"You rotten little cunt Barbanne, now its my turn."
"Aaagh you bitch."
Shit she was strong.
"How do you like it bitch?"
God that fucking Annette was strong and the rope was wrapped around my neck like more than once and she was tightening it all the time.
"Ark Ark Ark."
"Tough little guard eh Barbanne, tough babe with a gun well how do you like being on the receiving end?"
"Not so good eh bitch?"
"Don't like it do you eh bitch?"
Everything was going dark and my lungs were going to burst.
"Don't like it at all do you?"
Dark, dark, dark...................pitch black, slipping, sliding, down into the black nowhere.....down, down, down.......
Annette looked down at Barbanne.
The little creep was dead.
Dead, limped out, floppily loose, her tongue protruded from her mouth and her eyes looked bruised and puffy and firmly shut.
Annette was pleased they had set this stupid little bint to watch her. The dumb little broad never stood a chance. Annette sighed and rolled Barbanne's body away from where she lay across her lap.
She untied her ankles and got up and gazed down on the body of her erstwhile guardian. Peered at her face, close up, ow she had a zit on her cheek oh and two more between her tits. Small, soft, splayed out tits.
Annette caught herself.
No time to waste, things to do.
Yerk, Barbanne was drooling slimy spittle, thick gunk dribbling down her out-thrust tongue and sliding off then dripping onto the floor.
The little bitch had lost her stupid shoes, had kicked them off as her legs thrashed in her violent death throes.
Her car, the jeep was outside, but if they'd left anyone watching out there, he or she would expect to see Barbanne, if anyone, leaving the cabin.
"I'll need your clothes babe," said Annette, "but being dead and all, you won't mind will you?"
She stooped and slipped her hands under Barbanne's armpits.
"Let's go out where its warm babe, seeing you're going to get naked."
She laughed mirthlessly.
She lifted the dead girl and her hands slid away.
"Strewth you weigh a tonne," she gasped, "and yet you're small with it. Its as though you doubled in weight since you died, I guess thats why they call it dead weight."
She slipped her hands under Barbanne's armpits again and crossed them over her chest linking her hands above the soft squishy breasts. She realised that her erstwhile captor was not wearing a bra. Leaning back Annette dragged Barbanne out into the living room and laid her out near the fire. She went back into the room where she had been held captive and recovered the dead girl's slides and the ropes that had so recently bound her. The rope which had tied her wrists was still wrapped tightly around Barbanne's throat. She removed it and tossed both ropes into the fire where they flamed up. Starting at her thighs she rolled Barbanne's dress up over her limply pliant body. When she came to the hips she had to lift Barbanne's dead ass to get the scrunched up dress past it and then she crawled around to the head and lifted Barbanne into a sitting position while she worked the dress up over her torso and, with difficulty, lifting and holding her flopping arms, she got the dress up and over her shoulders and head and clear of those sagging arms, (which seemed to have a will of their own) and off.
She let Barbanne flop onto the floor.
Fascinated she watched as the dead girl's nipples stiffened and erected into small, fleshy, poking pillars.
Barbanne was lying dead on her back, her only garment a tiny pair of panties. Annette had never seen such a small scrap of material masquerading as clothing. It wasn't just that it was an almost nothing panty thong, the triangle covering Barbanne's pudenda was minute and the straps around her waist and in her bum crack were mere strings and what there was of it was made from a lacy mesh completely revealing the folds of her pussy and the compressed curly bush that, where free, spilled carelessly over the waistband. Crawling back to the dead girl's side Annette slipped her fingers under the string sides and slid the panties down over the thighs and legs and off. It wasn't even necessary to ease them under her ass as there really was almost nothing there.
Barbanne was nude.
Nude and dead.
Annette scrunched the panty thong into a ball and sniffed it savouring the perfume of dead Barbanne's sex. Her body scents overlaid the womanliness of her pussy and Annette imagined she could smell the fear Barbanne had experienced as she died. She flicked the panties into the fire where they flared and died.
She looked down at the dead girl. Hey she was quite cute.
"You know babe if you'd pull your tongue in and smile you'd be quite desirable. Hard I guess given you're dead. Still I can see as how if one had a penis and it was erect one wouldn't mind sticking it in you even now."
She lifted Barbanne back into a sitting position. Her head slumped back slackly and drool flicked off of her tongue and her bruised looking closed eyes gave her a sense of pitiful vulnerability. Annette got Barbanne up and over her shoulder in a fireman's lift. She carried the body up the steep and narrow staircase, almost a ladder actually, and into the single upstairs bedroom. She looked around for a place to conceal the corpse of her former guardian and tormentor. She dumped Barbanne on the bed while she looked around. A planked door opened to a wardrobe, inside of which were a series of sturdily built racks and a strong looking hanging rail. One side of the robe was clear allowing for full length hanging space.
Annette dragged the nude Barbanne over and with enormous difficulty got her inside with her arms looped over the hanging rail so that she hung suspended within the wardrobe. Her head still slumped backward, facing upwards and toward the wooden ceiling, her body limped down slackly, her knees buckled and her feet were tangled across each other. Annette noticed with distaste that Barbanne's eyes were now slitted open a crack with just a sliver of sightless eyeball showing and that she had slightly soiled her thighs with a tiny trickle of piddle.
"Well babe you look sort of disgusting but hell, being as you're dead as day old meat I guess its all academic to you."
She closed the door and went back downstairs.
Annette took off her own clothes and folded them into a bundle and then she struggled into Barbanne's dress and shoes. They were a woeful misfit but would have to do. She found the dead girl's keys and, carrying those, cracked open the door and closing it behind her hurried to the jeep, hoping that any watcher would think she was Barbanne.
There was no watcher.
She opened the jeep and slipped behind the wheel and turned it over. The engine fired first time and she drove away from the cabin up the two wheel tracks that formed the way in.
Five kilometres away she felt safe enough to stop and change into her own clothes, dumping Barbanne's dress and shoes in the undergrowth far from the road.She roared back onto the highway.
Back in the cabin the fire had died and it was getting cold.
Up the stairs and inside the bedroom, behind the door, inside the ward robe, the body of the gun girl, the guy's moll, the ill fated guardian, hangs suspended, cooling rapidly and stiffening up. Blood, no longer moving, no longer circulated by a heart that no longer beats, drains into her legs and her ass and pools in purpling patches. Her face has assumed the waxy pallor of death. Her sightless eyeballs gaze unseeing at nothing. Her mouth gapes open, crusted around the lips with the white residue of her death drool. Her pubic hair remains damp, saturated by her failed bladder. Enzymes invade her muscles making them increasingly rigid and within a few hours her corpse will be stiff and inflexible. Bacteria floods out of her tummy and sets off to begin its labour of putrefying her dead flesh.
Poor little bad girl, poor little Barbanne is dead.
I am dead.
Dead, bested by Annette, mercilessly strangled and stripped naked and propped inside this wardrobe, hanging limply unable to move even a muscle, heading rapidly for rigor mortis, completely and utterly lifeless, totally defunct, helplessly, submissively finished and quite quite dead.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, how I love being "dead."