Part 138
Posted by Barbanne on May 06, 2004 at 01:04:21:
PART ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY EIGHT
HARD TO KILL
I decided I was looking pretty good.
I mean I'll never be beautiful or anything and I'm a fairly fragile person both physically and mentally, but for me at my age I was looking pretty good.
My face would never launch a thousand ships or for that matter one leaky dinghy but I am sort of cute and my body looks okay. No tits to talk of and a big bum but everything else works well. I had gone back to wearing my hair down below my shoulders and had returned to my favourite crinkly frizz perm. I was wearing a lot more makeup these days when working or when going out and otherwise nothing. Right now I was made up to kill with panda like eyes and slathers of lippy, black eyes and red lips.Thats because I was working and I was going to die. Gotta look good when your dead eh? A girl can maybe not write her name in the snow when peeing but she is built for post mortem sex.
Gawd I'm dreadful.
Bobbi was still watching me like a hawk lest I back slide and stop eating again and Addie had decided to become my mother and was clucking around me like I was some sort of could be nutso or something. Hmmm, how does she know that? I thought I hid it well.
Anyway apart from mollycoddling me they were also photographer and fellow model.
We were still working in Bobbi's little flat and I knew I had to do something about that. Either we went on using it as a studio and I moved myself and Killer out or I stayed and we found somewhere else to shoot which was probably better but a bit difficult financially.
Today's little drama was about a murder victim (me) who proves hard to kill and her murderer (Bobbi) who is, if nothing else, persistent.
We had spent minutes discussing whether I'd start off dressed, semi dressed (as in undies) or naked. I opted for naked like just out of the shower or something and I won.
So, Bobbi hates me for one reason or another (there's probably a thousand) and she is waiting, dressed in a sexy black mini dress and twitching a clothes line garrotte between her fingers and in I come wearing only my own skin and fully, totally nude and as I go over to close the curtains she pounces. The cord encircles my throat and she jerks back on it.
"Aaaaaarrgghh," I go and we struggle around some.
"Die bitch, die," she grunts and I go, "Errrgghh, errrggghh, errrggghh," and flap my hands.
She tightens the cord and squeezes and I go red in the face and say, "blleeeeerrrccchhh," and she tugs and pulls and I go, "ik, ik, ik," and flap around some more. She pulls back on the cord and my veins stand out and I go very red (some makeup help here) and as she grits her teeth and clenches her hands, my tongue waggles out and my eyes roll around and Addie gets everything down in pixels.
"Die you shitty stinkin' little bitch," says Bobbi. (Boy she really hates me)
"Guuulllerruuuggg," I go and its obvious I'm on the way out.
"DIE," she shrieks and I oblige and roll my eyes up and dangle my tongue out and sigh and expire.
She hangs on for a bit until she's satisfied I'm cactus and then lets me slide to the floor.
I lie there tits up and dead as a dodo.
She goes to the kitchen and gets a couple of big black garbage bags to wrap me in.
When she comes back I'm going like, "ugh, ugh, ugh," and trying to push myself off the floor.
"Aw shit," she says and grabbing a heavy silver statuette off of the sideboard she whacks it down on the back of my perm. I go, "aaaawwwkk," in a quiet little whisper and she whacks me again for good measure and I bury my nose in the carpet.
Killer's off to one side lying with his head on his paws and loving this.
"Shit finally you're dead bitch," says Bobbi and kicks my upthrust ass.
Killer growls and Bobbi says, "Just playing mate," and he snorts and continues lying there.
Bobbi pulls one garbage bag over my legs and up to my waist and I groan weakly and flap one hand.
"Shit don't you ever die bitch," says Bobbi and Killer covers his eyes with his paws and whimpers, disgraced by this feeble display by his pathetic owner.
I groan some more and Bobbi gets a knife from the kitchen.
I'm sort of crawling feebly away like some giant slug with my lower body wrapped in black plastic and Bobbi comes charging out of the kitchen shrieking, "Won't you ever die you shit bitch," and she plunges the knife into my back.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrkkkkkkk...................." I go and arch backward in a spasm of pure agony and a slitty cut appears in my back between my shoulder blades and of course there's no huge mess of bloof coz I don't like my body (or Bobbi's for that matter when its her turn) obscured by heaps of fake bloodiness.
"Ooooooooooooo................................" I sigh and my hands slide out and I sink down onto my face.
"Strewth I'm so sick of killing this slut," says Bobbi, sitting beside my body and breathing heavily.
"I mean who'd have thought the little creep would be this hard to kill."
Killer cocks his head to one side and looks at us like "I really don't know what this lot are about," then, unable to figure it out with his doggy brain, he sighs and sinks his beautiful head onto his paws.
Bobbi gets up and goes for the second garbage bag and I moan and start rolling onto my side. Bobbi comes back carrying the bag and I'm sort of like half turned to her and my eyeballs are rolling around and my mouth is gasping and she stamps her foot and says, "That's it! I'm totally pissed off now. I'm going to end this once and for all."
I go, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," and she stomps off into the bedroom.
"Ooooooooooooerrrr............................," I go.
Back comes Bobbi with a little nickel plated girlie gun, a kind of assassin's twenty two.
"Enough already," she says and grabbing a healthy bunch of my fritzy hair she pulls my head up and shoves the barrel of the gun against my forehead and I say, "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa???" and go cross eyed trying to focus on the gun at such close quarters.
'Try coming back from this bitch," says Bobbi and squeezes the trigger.
BANG!
A stick on bullet hole appears centrally just north of the bridge of my nose and I flop down on my back with my arms spread, tits pointing skyward (well sort of splayed sideways and generally nipples up) and this time I'm deado.
Mort, muerto, deceased, defunct, departed, done for, napoo, gone, stone cold and lifeless.
The late lamented (??) Barbanne.
Bobbi checks for any sign of a neck pulse but my carotid has closed down. She checks for any slight whisper of breath from my mouth, nothing. She studies my eyes for any faint glimmer of life but there's nothing going on in that department either. Finally and at long last it's all over or me.
She works the garbage bag down over my head and shoulders and pulls the two bags together where they overlap at my waist and uses packing tape to seal them together. She now hoists my plastic shrouded body over her shoulder and carts me out to her car where I'm to occupy the boot for a one way drive to the dump site she has chosen. She and Addie work fast now because I actually have a limited reserve of air inside my bagged cocoon and if she doesn't let me out soon I will not be playing dead, I WILL be dead when she does.
They work quickly and smoothly though and return me to the lounge room where Bobbi strips the bags off and I emerge only slightly blue and hypoxic.
Addie says she just knows the set's a ripper and when we view it downloaded onto the PC it certainly is and, while I write some text to accompany it, Addie and Bobbi edit it for uploading to Slain Sluts.
Killer is glad to see me back from the "dead" and sits at my feet pleading for food with his eyes.
Mushy whimp that I am I go get him a bunch of goodies from amongst the left overs in the fridge.
I'm back from my problems and doing what I love and this has been a good day. Thoughts of Alex chase themselves around in my brain but I try to keep them at arm's length.
A few days after I had proved hard to kill, Bobbi and I were having coffee at our local bistro, I don't drink too much coffee as it tends to give me a headache, you know one of those persistent little naggers just above your eyes and it also gives me wind. But its a recognised way of passing the time when you're chatting so I do it.
I saw Bobbi look up and her eyes registered that someone was coming and I half turned just as a voice said, "Barbanne how are you darling?"
It was Sheryl with whom I'd worked at Playdead and whom I'd always liked. I got up and hugged her and introduced her to Bobbi and sat her down and we talked and she told me that although she wasn't doing much she had been modelling now and then for Playdead and Alex was getting so cranky he was insufferable and she'd heard that he and Jade were an item and when was I going to come back and sort him out.
My feelings went into hyper drive when I heard that. Despite having walked out on Alex, well, he sacked me sort of, and despite having stubbornly refused to attempt to patch things up, I always believed we'd be back together in time and I still loved him like mad and I half refused to believe that he had deserted me and Jade was like a sister to me and thinking of your sister screwing your lover was just too much and my brain slammed a door on my whirling thoughts and I decided it would all come good if I just waited. Or was it time to put everything behind me again. Time to run, to run away from something I couldn't or wouldn't deal with, something I couldn't face. I turned to Sheryl everything hidden behind a silly smile and I laughed that off although it was tearing me up inside. I pretended it was nothing much to me and we chatted and then Bobbi and I talked Sheryl into coming to work for Slain Sluts at our miserable penny ante rates.
In turn she asked us if we'd like a girl's night out at a club she knew of where they featured fights with tough, sweaty guys. We laughingly agreed and so I found myself at Bruiser's a combination night club and fight club, sitting ringside at a table with my mates giggling and feeding my face and watching the other two get tiddly on the house white and waiting for the fight to begin.
When it did it featured two guys, one a tall wiry fair haired spunk and the other a shorter, chunkier, dark guy. There was also a babe in a bikini with a monstrously over developed chest who carried the round cards and got leered at by most of the audience which I suppose wasn't surprising as we were among the very few unaccompanied females there.
I'm not overly enamoured of real violence but as the fight went on right above me I found I was getting sort of excited on some primitive, primal lobe level and the sight of these two dudes whacking each other was turning me on. I got hotter and hotter and then realised I was shouting out along with everybody else and snuck a look at Bobbi and Sheryl but their primal brains had taken over too and we were all hooting like some awful harpies.
I was loving it.
Then in the fourth round the dark guy caught the other dude with a flurry of punches culminating in one that whistled up from somewhere and landed smack on his kisser and put him down and out.
The Referee started counting him out and Ms Top Heavy simpered and the dark guy went to a neutral corner which was right above me and while I'm watching the downed bloke and wondering if the bulge in his trunks was some sort of protector or was he so pleased to see me he can't hide the fact even though he's unconscious, a voice said, "Hey beautiful," and I looked up and the dark guy was winking at me.
I made like I was outraged but Bobbi and Sheryl ribbed me mercilessly.
When it was all over we were getting up to leave when a waiter came over and said to me, to me mind you, "Excuse me Ms, Brute would like to meet you."
"Brute!!!!!"
And then there was the dark, chunky guy all spruced up and wearing a nice light grey jacket over a polo neck and dark trousers and he took my hand and bent over it and kissed it and said, "I'm a winner and so are you babe."
Well what a crap line. I noticed Bobbi and Sheryl were watching speechless and I thought "is that your best effort Brute," and then he smiled, oh wow what a smile, and said, "I mean that Ms, you are a real winner," and I fell for it.
So that's how I came to meet Brute.
His name was Bob actually and he was a real surprise package.
I mean when I first saw him to me he was a pug and any attraction I felt for him was on a very low level, primitive basis as I was a girl and he was a powerful man. My evolutionary genetic response to that was to 'think,' "Ugh, strong man mean strong babies, girl better get fucked by strong man," and my body reacted automatically to that response by getting hot and wet.
Somewhat tentatively I agreed to a date and got myself tarted up and put on a pretty but not overly sexy frock and he turned up very smartly dressed in dark clothes that slimmed down his natural chunkiness. He looked nice and when we got to the restaurant he had chosen he was the perfect gentleman. In fact I was the one who had to watch herself. Watch my flip mouth, watch my swearing and try to display the social graces and manners I had picked up in another life.
He bought me home about eleven and I allowed a quick kiss on the doorstep.
Boy this was so different. I was dating like a teenager.
We went out a couple of times more and his behaviour remained immaculate.
By now I was beginning to get more and more aroused whenever we were together. I am after all, a fairly normal young female and since stomping out of Playdead and Alex I had not been with a man and yes, I have to confess, I wanted a good shag.
Bob, (Brute), didn't much encourage me and when finally, on our third date I blatantly offered myself to him slipping his hand inside my top and onto my bra-less breasts (I was also panty-less) as we crushed together, he took my hand out and said, "You sure you want this Barbanne. Maybe you're missing that boyfriend of yours?"
I thought of Alex screwing Jade although I wondered if that were really true and my emotions roiled, love, jealousy, sexual misery and love/hate boiling in a cauldron of frustration and I said, "Yes I want it Bob."
"Sure?"
"Yes." Yes I wanted him he was a lovely man and I enjoyed being with him and I wanted to reward him and selfishly I wanted good physical sex for myself.
He took me to his flat and his big bed and after a moment or two of silly, blushing, giggling nervousness I got naked and I got fucked.
He was a gentle and yet vigorous lover and I responded explosively and after it was over I didn't have to ask was it good for him because I darn well knew it was. It was bloody good for me and if he hadn't enjoyed that he was dead and he wasn't and he had. We cuddled and fiddled and made love twice more and then I flaked out and when he woke me the next morning we made love again.
Wow from frustrated to satisfied to the point of satiation in one easy (all night) lesson.
I loved my gorgeous Brute!
My brute, Bob, continued to astonish me. He was funny, clever, extremely well read and all round good fun. Our relationship however continued to revolve around one main thing. Vigorous, energetic, no quarter asked or given, sex. And it was damned good sex too. But for all that he was a great guy and just what I had needed right then although I had to confess to myself that the magic spark that ignited when I was with Alex just wasn't there. I guess Bob knew that too and we actually talked about our relationship and when I told him I feared it was just for a few laughs and the sex he didn't disagree.
I started noticing that when he was coming to pick me up Bobbi started evidencing signs of oddball behaviour. She'd put something nice on and check that her makeup was perfect and spray herself with oh so sexy perfume.
I'm not stupid and so I suggested we all go out to eat and take in a movie together. Bobbi said, "Oh no," and "I don't want to intrude," and "You don't want me there," and "Two's company, three's a crowd," etc, etc.
I said," Bullshit Bobbi," and Bob had no problems and so off the three of us went. I sat them together and me opposite in the booth at the restaurant and at the pictures we sat either side of him and I made sure she got included in everything. I stopped short of nudging him onto her.
When we came home Bobbi said, "Hey guys thanks for including me in that I had a fab time," and electric sparks arced from her face to his. I thought I saw an answering glow in his eyes.
We kissed and cuddled some and then I cried off citing a (non existent) headache. He didn't seem all that heart broken.
By now Bob knew I was a shop girl, waitress and porn actress and that Bobbi did something similar. That was no problem for him and I was glad it wasn't. I mean if you want me you get me warts and all.
I organised another outing for the three of us to the beach, although the weather was changing and autumn was well advanced. I supervised Bobbi's preparations and made her wear a little bikini she had for sunning that barely covered her nipples and pussy if she was lucky enough not to move around too rapidly. I wore something rather more modest.
When we got there and got our sun tent up I said I'd get our picnic lunch ready and why didn't they go in for a dip. Bobbi stripped blushing and when she revealed herself, as in about ninety eight percent skin and two percent fabric, Bob couldn't take his eyes off of her and they galloped off to splishy splash and giggle a lot. Well, Bobbi was giggling hysterically and Bob was laughing along with her. I hoped she wouldn't get too excited and pass out and drown.
My scheming was going well and so I wasn't surprised when after I had pushed them together on a third occasion at lunch in Bobbi's flat, Bobbi came to me one night and said, "Will you kill me if I tell you Bob's asked me for a date?"
"Probably," I said, "you know how I love killing you."
She giggled nervously.
"Be serious Barb, it's just, well, I know only a slime rat would pinch her best girlfriend's boyfriend but I like him a lot and I think he must like me too. Or he wouldn't have asked me would he?" the words rushed out.
"Ah well," I said.
"You're pissed off aren't you Barb?"
"Aaaaaaaaaah," I sighed.
"Aw jeezus I would never do something to hurt you only I thought......aw jeez I think I'll kill myself."
"Listen stupid," I said, putting on a stern face, "I know when we were kids you weren't exactly Ms Einstein at school but are you really so dumb that you haven't noticed I've been pushing you two together for yonks now."
"Oh Barb you don't mind?"
"Bobbi mate if you can get him you can have him."
"I can get him Barb."
"I'll bet you can. Wear that little bikini number, he seemed to like that if the way in which his eyeballs popped out is any guide."
"Errrmmmmm...."
"What Bobbi?"
"Well I sorta thought Barb will understand so I went and....................."
"And, and, and what?"
"Went and bought something that makes the bikini look prudish, I'm hoping its something he can get his teeth into."
Well did we have a good old giggle then and Bobbi went off to bag her a brute.
I'd had him and now I'd lost him and somehow I didn't care. He was great and he was fun and the sex was amazing and I just knew that he and Bobbi were made for each other, hell, I could see it in the way they devoured each other with their eyes.
So I was really happy when they went off for their first date without me. Bob looked embarrassed and said he was sorry and it was just that he and Bobbi etc etc. I said, "Skip the bullshit and go and have a good time."
"We will."
"Bob," I said, "make her happy or I'll rip your balls off."
"And you could too," he said. Then, "I'll make her happy Barb, I think I love her."
"You better."
Yep I was really happy. Happy for Bobbi and for Bob.
Then I got to thinking about Alex.
And then I cried.
Back to work.
I was having to wear my little round wire specs all the time now, even when modelling and had died many times bespectacled but today's drama would look sort of wrong if my cold war character was wearing eyeglasses that clearly said year 2004. So I shed them and went to work myopic.
I was a sneering, strutting, swaggering guard and Bobbi was a poor manacled prisoner in my custody. Of course we were both totally nude as that's the way our customers like it, I've told you that before. I had a pistol, some replica thing that looked appropriately Eastern European. Bobbi was handcuffed and cringing in the corner of her cell. (Actually the garage of her flat) Addie was operating the camera. Bobbi cringed, I strutted puffing a fag (pretend) and looking the complete supercilious, vicious shit type.
What I didn't know was that Bobbi had freed herself.
I kicked her and then disdainfully turned my back.
Up she rocketed and using the cuffs as a garrotte wrapped them around my neck and tugged.
Tugged hard.
The usual "Erk, erk, erking," and writhing and twisting and going crimson in the face but Bobbi was relentless.
A bit more, "Erkkkk, arkkkk, ergell, ergelllllll, ergellllllll.....................," and rollingg and crossing of eyes and unravelling of tongue and then I slid slowly but inexorably downward, limp and helpless and, needless to say, lifeless.
I slumped half propped against the wall, eyes crossed and upturned and tongue drooling out over parted teeth, dribbling and absolutely dead and utterly humiliated.
Then she dragged my limped out corpse around some.
Ah how the (in her own mind) mighty had fallen.
Humiliated as humiliated can be.
(Of course for me this was super fantasy and edge of orgasm time)
Abased, mortified, shamed and utterly, utterly humiliated.
I deserved it.