“Safety in Numbers Strangler”

Posted by tina on June 01, 20013 at 20:00:20:

Hi, everyone! Three women feel safe because they are together. Enjoy!

“Safety in Numbers Strangler”
(Inspired by a picture, two lovely ladies, and in memory of Sherry)
By Tina

He reads the article about Samantha with interest. The reporter covering the story creates a sanitized version of the lurid sex crime but there is an item that he finds of particular interest. Samantha’s best friend is the unlucky person who finds her body at 2:30 in the morning. He misses the best friend by barely a half hour.
“I could have done two,” he thinks as he rereads the article.

* * * *

That is me on the right. My name is Jessica. My best friend is next to me. Her name is Rachel. To her left is her mother, Sherry. The week has been a blast for the three of us. We are attending a good friend’s wedding on Saturday so Sherry takes us shopping and arranges for full hair and makeup at her favorite spa and salon.
After the latest murder Sherry insists I move in with her and Rachel. She is especially insistent with the wedding and reception coming up.
“Safety in numbers, Jessica,” Sherry told me as she helped me pack, “With this rapist in the area you shouldn’t be alone right now.” I read about a girl named Samantha being raped and strangled so I guess I understand her point. I admit I am a little nervous living alone being an attractive blond with a serial killer in the area.
“Besides, we’ll have a nightly sleep over, just the three of us.”
“I’ll pack extra hosiery,” I told Sherry with a laugh. Mrs. Owens is in her early forties but looks great. She has a model’s figure, tall and slim with shapely long legs. She never lets Rachel leave the house with bare legs. I must admit that is why I am into stockings and pantyhose. The Owens women like to have pajama parties except the wardrobe is always bra and panties with pantyhose. I am happy to be an honorary Owens gal.

* * * *
The Saturday morning of the wedding is sunny and bright. It is a perfect day for our friend to become a bride.
I awake to the smell of fresh brewed coffee and bacon frying in a skillet that is a hand me down from Rachel’s MeMa. Sherry’s mom is a business woman but she makes the best breakfast ever. I roll out of bed, stretch my slim body, and dress for breakfast.
I am, as usual, the last to arrive in the kitchen.
“Oh, it’s the late Jessica,” Rachel says as I arrive. We are all undressed the same. Sherry bought us white satin bras with matching panties but she did let us pick our hosiery. My panties are clearly visible under my sheer to the waist hose. Sherry is wearing Wolford Fatal 15 also in nude. Rachel’s nude pantyhose are control top since she has some delusion of being fat. I must admit that compared to her mother and me she is plump but I secretly envy her voluptuous figure. I have no butt. Rachel has such a beautiful ass that is accentuated by the control top hose that I confess outright jealousy.
After breakfast we lounge a while. The conversation is light until Sherry says, ”Jessica, I’m so glad you agreed to move in with us. I really was worried about you with…”
“Mrs. Owens, I was afraid,” I admit for the first time, “But now we have safety in numbers.” Rachel leans in to give me a hug. For a fleeting moment I have the urge to kiss her but then realize her mother is present.
We are already in the party spirit as Sherry drives us to the salon in her silver Mercedes. The owner greets each of us with a champagne cocktail. I so enjoy the full treatment we receive. The hairdresser curls my long blond hair. Mrs. Owens instructs the makeup lady to give me a “girl next door” look but ads with a wink that the girl next door should be a little bit of a slut. My makeover creates a young Marilyn.
We return to the Owen’s townhouse to dress for the wedding. Rachel is in a sapphire mini dress with matching blue nylons. Her bra and panty set are a powder blue which is a nice contrast to the pantyhose.
I wear a white dress that enhances the movie star look. My pantyhose are barely a shade darker than my natural skin color. My white panties and bra are satin and feel lovely against my pale skin.
We meet in the living room and I gasp. Rachel’s mother is stunning. Her gold lama dress hugs her curves. Sherry has a lovely firm ass and the dress curves over and under accentuating her lovely ass cheeks. The hem of the dress ends perhaps a foot below the bottom of said curvaceous butt.
“How does she sit in that?” I ask Rachel as I lean close.
“Carefully,” Rachel responds in a guarded whisper and we both laugh out loud.
“What are you two up to?” Sherry inquires already suspecting it is about her dress.
“Nothing, mom,” Rachel says coyly, “we just think you are gorgeous.”

* * * *
We return to Sherry’s townhouse after the reception.
“Let’s have a nightcap,” Sherry suggests. We agree and then depart for our rooms to get ready for more partying.
I am the designated bartender. As I am getting the fixing for margaritas ready Rachel joins me in the kitchen.
“I’ve wanted to do this all day,” she says as she embraces me. Our kiss is wet and soft and passionate. My hands go to her voluptuous ass. I finally pull away. “Got to make cocktails,” I tell my best friend. She sighs and then questions, “Wonder what is keeping mom?” She gives me another quick kiss and tells me she’ll be right back.
I finish the margaritas and idly wonder what is keeping Rachel and her mother. “Hey the drinks are ready,” I call out as I walk down the hall toward the master bedroom. My heels click rhythmically on the hard wood floor. “Rachel? Sherry? What’s the delay?” I inquire as I push the bedroom door open. I gasp as I run to the bed. Sherry is tied on the far side of the bed. Her wrists are bound with one of her silk scarves which is also lashed to the brass rail of the head board. Another scarf is pulled between her bright red lips. Rachel lays next to her mother. My best friend is in a similar state. Her arms stretch above her head with one of Sherry’s scarves tied tightly around her wrists and then tied to the headboard. I reach for the gag inn Rachel’s mouth when he grabs me. I am oblivious to the danger until I feel the powerful arms wrap around me.
I am quickly bound on the bed next to Rachel. He stuffs one of Sherry’s linen handkerchiefs in my mouth then ties the gag in place with a bright red silk scarf. Once I am helpless he pulls my nude pantyhose down to my ankles. I squirm as he slides my panties down my long legs. I try to keep my thighs together as I know what he plans to do to me.
He strips naked before he rapes me. It is rape. He pushes my thighs apart. There is no foreplay or stimulation for me. I hate that he enjoys it. I hate it even worse when we climax together.
To my surprise he pulls my panties and my pantyhose back up after he finishes raping me.
He is still erect as moves over to Rachel. I am concerned about her because I am not sure about her contraception. I’m on the pill so I don’t have to worry about getting pregnant by this scum bag. I can’t remember if Rachel is protected but if not hopefully she will be able to duesch once he frees us.
He pulls Rachel’s control top pantyhose down to her ankles. He pulls her panties down too. He rapes her. I really hate him. I try to tell him to leave Rachel alone but the gag prevents me from speaking.
Then he rapes Sherry. Oddly I hear her moan. I won’t say she enjoys being raped but I know she enjoys sex. Her muffled noises are more erotic than the sounds Rachel made. I realize Sherry wants to enjoy herself and apparently she is doing just that.
Once he finishes the rape he redresses Sherry just as he did with Rachel and me. I lift my head to watch as he removes the scarf from Sherry's mouth. “Thank goodness, he's going to let us go,” I think as I lay my head back on the bead. Then I hear an odd sound. I look again and see to my horror that the intruder has the scarf wrapped around poor Sherry's throat. The sounds I hear are her muffled screams as the killer slowly tightens the loop of silk.

Rachel's face is turned toward her mother and I hear her whimper as she watches helplessly.

I feel the bed move as Sherry bucks furiously. Her wrists remain tightly tied as he sadistically pulls hard on the lovely scarf. Sherry is facing us now. Her eyes are wide and her lovely face is a hideous shade because of the suffused blood. Her lovely long legs kick wildly as he brutally strangles her. I can no longer bare to watch but the terrible sound of Sherry's agony fill my ears. Rachel's whimpering fills what little silence remains.

I do not how many minutes pass when I realize it is quiet again. The bed is no longer shaking. Despite the terror that fills me I raise up enough to see that he is finished with Sherry. The pretty ligature is still wrapped loosely around her strangled throat but I see an angry red strangulation mark begin to appear circling her delicate neck. Rachel is yanking furiously at the scarf binding her wrists. I continue to watch just long enough to see him remove the scarf gag from her mouth.

I shut my eyes tight. There is gentle movement at first. Like Sherry before her, Rachel tries to scream as I imagine him wrap the scarf around her throat. I hear the screams change as the ligature closes her airway.

The bed shakes even more violently this time. My eyes are still shut tight as I realize my best friend is being brutally choked to death. Rachel must be putting up more of a struggle because I feel myself bouncing on the bed next to her. The sounds of her death are horrible. I have never heard a sound anything like them. I know she is suffering and I am helpless to save her or even to comfort her.

It seems to take an eternity as I lay there. My eyes remain shut the whole time. I suddenly realize I am cold. That is no surprise since I still wear only my nude pantyhose, lovely bra, and panties. I think about safety in numbers and actually laugh behind my gag.

It is too quickly my turn. The only movement I feel is the strangler moving on the bed toward me. I am surprisingly calm. I guess I am resigned to my fate. I keep my eyes shut trying not to think of the beautiful corpses next to me. Soon they will be next to my lovely body.

He straddles me and his touch pulls me from my reverie. I try to clamp my teeth down on the scarf but the handkerchief stuffed inside my mouth prevents me from biting it as he removes the silky gag. My eyes remain shut as I feel him wrap the silk scarf around my throat. “For what it's worth you were the best,” he speaks, I think for the first time.
“For what it's worth?” I question and marvel at this cavalier statement. I start to scream but know it is futile. I save my breath. Then I wonder if he means the best of the Owens women. Perhaps he mean the best of the women he has raped. So many odd and wonderful and terrible thoughts go through my brain as I feel the scarf gradually tighten. My nostrils flair as breathing becomes difficult. Then I feel my lungs working to draw air with no result.

The pressure of the brutal strangulation eventually forces my eyes to open. My vision is blurred. I feel my eyes bulge grotesquely. Then I realize he is staring at me as he chokes the life out me. I stare at him as he stares at me. He is waiting for me to die. I try to close my eyes again to deprive him of some sort of perverted satisfaction. Of course my lids will no longer move. I have no choice but to watch his enjoyment as he murders me. I am going to die with this monster watching his handy work.
He defeats me. As I give myself up I think about being one of the Owens women. Our union is wrought from all the joy and excitement we have experienced together through the years. Sherry always treats me like her daughter and I love Rachel as a sister. And now there is the unusual bond of our final journey together and our safety in numbers that of course turns out not safe at all.
The bright light swallows him as the darkness swallows me.

* * * *

He reads the article with greater satisfaction than any previous reports of his misdeeds. There is the usual sanitary information about three women found murdered. Then the article went on to reveal that the son of one of the victims found the bodies. Apparently the boy has mental issues that land him in the local mental hospital as the result of the trauma. The article goes on to say the names of the victims are being withheld until notification of next of kin. He feels sorry for the son.

“Three were certainly better than one,” he realizes, “and the young blond is the best ever.” He closes his eyes and relives her final minutes with a smile.