THE HOSTAGE TAKER
Posted by Barbanne on December 16, 2006 at 13:52:42:
THE HOSTAGE TAKER
As it turned out they took Mary Trueblue fairly easily.
Two men in suits flanked the Princeton educated and Langley trained FBI agent as she emerged from the subway and she felt the small stabbing prickle in her leg in the same instant as she registered the Black Lexus sliding into the kerb with its rear door opening.
She felt the strong hands of the two suits gripping her arms as she collapsed into darkness.
She woke to the awareness that she was lying on carpet, bound hand and foot and stripped to her caffe latte coloured, silk bra and panties.
Trying not to show that her senses had returned she took her time assessing her surroundings.
The first thing she saw was a shapely butt stretching the black and white fabric of a very short mini skirt across its generous curves. Creamy shoulders emerged from the top of the dress covered only by two spaghetti straps and crowned with thick, shoulder length, crimped brown hair. Equally creamy legs extended from the hem of the dress.
The girl was sitting straddling a chair with her back to Mary and watching a television set playing silently in the corner of the room. The rest of the room was bare of furniture.
Mary coughed quietly.
The girl turned and looked down at her.
She had a cute face lightly freckled and with sparkling blue eyes which regarded Mary with interest.
She also had a huge hand gun in her right hand.
"You awake girl?"
"Mmmmmm," said Mary, "and who are you?"
"I'm guarding you Miss Trueblue until they get back."
"So who are they?"
"I think you know the answer to that Miss Trueblue."
"So what's your name guard, you obviously know mine."
"My name's none of your business but just so's you know I'm Barbanne and I can handle this," she waved the cannon around. Mary realised that clearly Barbanne could not handle the gun, nor, she thought, any other weapon.
Mary had started working on the bonds tying her wrists and knew that, using the techniques taught to her by the academy, she could be free in thirty minutes or so.
"So where are they?"
"You ask too many questions."
"I like to know what's going on."
"I'll bet you do, but just you don't worry Mary Trueblue they'll be back in an hour or so and in the meantime me and this," she waved the gun alarmingly, "are going to keep you company."
Thirty minutes, that should do it thought Mary and a plan formulated in her mind.
Thirty minutes later give or take she had freed her hands but kept them seemingly bound.
"Barbanne, can I have a glass of water?"
"Sheesh," Barbanne got up from her contemplation of the television, "you'll only pee yourself or I'll have to take you to the toot, sheeesh."
However, grumbling, she got up and went outside and returned with a half full glass.
Good! the door isn't locked thought Mary.
Barbanne bent down and held the glass to Mary's lips.
Mary exploded into action knocking the glass flying and knifing the edge of her stiffened hand into Barbanne's vagus nerve.
Barbanne went down, dropped as though poleaxed and Mary quickly applied extra pressure to keep her out for a long time.
Mary freed her ankles and then rolled her senseless, erstwhile guard onto her back and started stripping her. She could see that although Barbanne was a lot shorter than her they were otherwise similar enough that the unconscious girl's clothes would fit her well enough for what she had in mind.
She reached for the hem of Barbanne's dress and her hand slid along the unconscious girl's thigh, her fingers finding the tightly bunched curls where her legs divided and then, probing, they discovered the moist, soft lips of her cleft and, as she did whenever she found herself too close to another girl, Mary felt the urges that drove her building unbearably and her long manicured finger slipped inside Barbanne's cunnie and explored her love canal, finding and carressing her hardening clitoris.
"Naughty girl," whispered Mary, "no panties no panties at all and such a short dress, very, very naughty girl."
Mary felt the still senseless Barbanne beginning to respond to her touch, automatically, even though her mind remained deeply asleep. With her free hand she rolled Barbanne's dress up and over her head and off altogether finding that she had worn no bra either, nothing at all beneath it. She leaned over the now nude body and kissed the parted lips, lingering on the mouth as she fully inhaled the scents of the other girl. Barbanne's body was bucking softly now as the eroticism and arousal penetrated beyond her unconscious state. Mary fondled her breasts teasing her nipples and all the time steadily bringing her clitoris to fulfilment. She touched herself, her fingers inside her own silk panties and then in a sweaty climax both girls orgasmed in a flood of wetness and explosive excitement.
Mary contemplated Barbanne's helpless body, her limp nudity, suddenly she felt inexpressibly sad.
"Baby," Mary hissed, "guess I'm going to have to choke the crap out of you. You're just too dangerous to leave around."
Her hands gripped the unfortunate Barbanne's throat with the deadly force trained into them. Mary was glad she had been taught to kill quickly, efficiently and without compassion, to her the naked girl on the floor was now just another problem to be solved.
Barbanne was coming to.
From unconsciousness she went to instant realisation that she had awoken to her last seconds of life. Comprehension forced the dullness from her eyes and they widened in dreadful fear and then bugged and faded into the shadows of death. Mary was good. It lasted less than a minute and although Barbanne writhed and flailed and kicked and struggled mightily, no sound other than animal grunts passed her lips and then, very suddenly, Barbanne was snuffed out. Like a flickering flame that is a victim of an overwhelming draft poor Barbanne was gone, snuffed permanently.
Mary looked down at the naked girl now lying dead on the floor below her. "So much for the big gun," thought Mary, "in the end you didn't put up much of a fight at all, did you dear? Rather feeble actually."
"Now Barbanne babe," she said, "I'm going to have to hide you long enough for me to steal your identity and get myself out of this place, alright with you?"
No answer.
She smiled and after quickly slipping Barbanne's dress on she grabbed a fistful of the dead girl's thick, brown, shoulder length crimped hair and hauled her up into a slumped half sit. Barbanne's tits were crumpled against her chest, her nipples hard and erect, her tummy bulged slackly freed from the restraints of muscle control, her legs were splayed open and her pussy lips glistened pinkly wet and Mary imagined them leaving behind a snail trail of slime as she dragged Barbanne's corpse away. As she held the hunk of Barbanne's thick mane the dead girl's arms flopped limply and Mary thought dead people are just like rag dolls that's true.
Mary got her hands under Barbanne's armpits and started dragging. Her mind went back to college days and she remembered Hamlet's words to his mother as he removed Polonius's freshly slain corpse from her presence, "I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room."
Lug, she thought, what a wonderfully descriptive word, the guts, she thought, that's you Barbanne dear, the guts, the meat, the lifeless corpse.
"Sorry I had to kill you baby you were probably quite a nice girl, but you know how it goes, the company is always right." She got no response from the rolled back eyeballs whitely staring from under half masted eyelids nor from the slack gaping mouth drooling a little colourless dribble onto the girl's chin. As she watched Barbanne's tongue flopped out pink and slug like.
She lifted Barbanne's shoulders and dragged her across the floor, there was a slight wetness trail coming from under the dead girl's butt.
She was heavy.
The dead are always heavy thought Mary, even little ones like this.
Barbanne slumped against Mary's legs while she opened a door into a spacious broom closet in the hall. She dragged and manhandled the corpse into the cupboard propping it against the back corner. Barbanne slumped deadly her head fallen forward her hair partially obscuring her face and her tits once again crumpled onto her chest. Her pussy gaped wide and wet under its nest of curls. She was cooling quickly now her nipples hardening into stiff pillars and her body blueing as her blood pooled and the wind within her body canals and cavities burbled and burped and sang its own song of finality, a sad symphony of death.
Mary closed the closet door and, dressed in Barbanne's clothes, and looking enough like the dead girl to gain that split second advantage she would need, set off for the outside.
Mary Trueblue, agent extraordinaire knew no fear, she would have no difficulty in overcoming the remaining forces of evil even as she had easily overcome the hapless Barbanne, poor sad pitifully futile guardian that she had proved to be.
Back in the closet Barbanne's slumped corpse continued cooling and stiffening and discolouring as it lay hunched in the corner. Her once bright eyes had now glazed to the flat dull sheen of death. The inevitable processes of decay worked their way with her once pretty body. Soon she would look like the carrion she had become.
For her it was all over, chips cashed, bought the farm, dead, dead, dead!
I know this is the same as lots of my other stories but for me the idea of being taken out by a more powerful woman is a big turn on, maybe my number one fantasy.
Grin.