Posted by BlueLips on July 15, 20010 at 12:42:26:
Inspired by a classic source:
http://necrobabes.org/dolcett/asphyx_stories/castle/images/cw29a.gif
- - - - - - - - - -
Upon closing the apartment door, Christina immediately took off her blouse, revealing a pale pink bra. She was happy, and in a hurry.
"Hey, Marsha!" she called out.
Humming to herself, Christina went down the hallway to her room. At the end of the hall, the door to roommate Marsha's bedroom was partially open. Marsha's car had been in the carport, so Christina knew she was probably here.
In her room, Christina kicked off her shoes and stripped off her jeans, then her panties. "Marsha! Can I borrow that garter belt?" she yelled out, leaning over to take off her socks, which left her naked. "Matt finally called my cell! We've got a date!"
Standing in her underwear, she sifted through her closet. The little black dress or the royal blue number? Either way, Christina planned to go with no panties, just sheer stockings. And the garter belt to hold it up. Bra? She considered. In the tight fabric of either dress, some support would go a long way. But she'd need it to match. She unfastened her bra, and her full C-cup breasts spilled out. They were still firm, but Christina was more voluptuous than perky.
She was very pleased with herself. Matt was a nice guy, and she'd been hoping he'd call again. Screw the third-date rule, they were going to do it after date #2. She glanced at herself in the mirror and squeezed her breasts coyly.
Won't that drive him wild tonight, she thought.
She opened a new package of stockings and sat on the bed to put them on, carefully. "Marsha, did you hear me? Are you even here?"
Stockings on, Christina still hadn't decided on a dress. She did know she wanted to wear those pearls, though. They were stuffed in the sock drawer - neither Christina nor Marsha was particularly neat. She put the pearls on.
"Marsha!" Christina walked out of her room, still nude but for stockings and pearls. "'You asleep?"
She peered into Marsha's room. "Marsha? Where are you? Can I borrow your garter belt? We got a date!"
No response. Christina pushed the door open. "Marsha?"
Marsha wasn't there. The room looked the usual mess, clothes and shoes on the floor. Christina saw Marsha's simple double bed, just a mattress on a frame, no headboard. The girls were just out of college and still on a budget. The foot of the bed pointed to the double-doored closet, with mirrored doors. Marsha had the bigger closet, but Christina had the bigger room.
"Marsha!" Christina yelled. "I need that garter belt! I'm just gonna look for myself!"
She walked up to the closet, noticing her breasts bobbing in the reflection. She grabbed the left-hand door and slid it open.
It was a mess. Clothes were on the hangers, but other clothes, also on their hangers, were strewn all over the floor carelessly.
Christina closed the left-hand door and slid open the right. She froze.
There was Marsha. She was wearing the garter belt, and stockings, and a push-up bra that revealed her pale, erect nipples. But... her face...
Marsha was tied by the neck, tightly, to the clothes rod, so tightly that Christina couldn't even see the thin rope. Marsha's eyes were wide in shock.
Her mouth gaped open, a small line of drool dripping from her lips, a tiny rasped sound coming from her throat. Her skin was dark, turning a shade of purple. She was quivering weakly, her arms pinned or tied behind her, her feet shackled and off the floor... Then she noticed Marsha's mouth moving... forming words.
All this struck Christina in an instant. Before she could react, before she could fully comprehend what was happening, a man burst from the closet, muscular and naked. Christina shrieked, but quickly, he punched her stomach. Christina doubled over and moaned, stunned.
In that fraction of a second, it registered in Christina's head that Marsha *had* been trying to say something. "Run."
Christina tried to scream but couldn't catch her breath. She stumbled toward the doorway, trying to get up ... then a sack of weight fell on her. The man had tackled her down.
"No," Christina croaked, slowly getting her voice back. "Help! Help me!" she managed, but not loud enough for anyone to hear. The man's hand crossed in front of her face, and she felt something on her neck. A rope. "NO! AIEEE--"
Her scream was cut off as the man pulled hard.
Christine's hands grabbed for the rope, but it was already looped too tightly around her neck. She tried to wriggle her fingers under it. No good. Now the man was standing up, leaning over to hold the rope in place.
He pulled hard on the rope, dragging Christina towards the bed. Christina was in a panic, realizing no sound was coming from her throat at all. She swallowed dryly. She clawed at her attacker's wrists, realizing she had to think of some way to get away.
The man sat on the bed, positioning Christina between his knees. He held her head at chest level, and she could feel his naked, erect cock brushing against her back. Christina wasn't quite standing, her legs splayed outwards toward the closet. She pushed back hard, trying to gain footing, trying anything to escape.
She started feeling the burning in her lungs, and her kicks got more desperate, more violent. Why are you doing this, she thought. Why us?
Christina was in agony, and she felt her control slipping away. Her arms began to flail aimlessly, and her legs began shaking, more like bouncing, in reaction to the unending pain in her chest. She felt her eyes forcing themselves open, wide in a surprised gaze, another reaction to this pain she never knew she could feel.
And in the closet, she could see Marsha, who was now wiggling and jerking rapidly on the clothes rod like a fish.
Their eyes locked just as Marsha began to die. Christina saw Marsha's wide eyes get even wider, then begin to cross. Marsha's body jerked even more violently on the clothes rod, bouncing like a marionette.
Christina tried to scream, her chest and stomach pulsing in and out with the useless effort. She had to look away. But then her eye caught the closet door. Her reflection. Her own face, dark and purple, eyes and mouth so wide she couldn't recognize her self. In her haze of agony, she saw her own tongue begin to stick out. No, she thought. No!
Her body stiffened, relaxed, stiffened again, all four limbs pulsing with no direction. The pain was unbearable, as if it were consuming her entire being.
She stared in horror at her reflection again, then her eyes rolled back, and she saw nothing. One last stab of terror shot through her brain as she slipped into oblivion.
The man had noted Marsha's death throes with satisfaction and was pleased to see her finally still. He could tell by Christina's reflection and her aimless thrashing that she was good as gone, too. He held the rope tight until her movements weakened, then stopped. He squeezed even tighter at that point, holding it a full minute, making sure she was gone.
Satisfied, he stood up from the bed, letting Christina drop. He scooped up her body and laid her flat out on her back, tits pointing skyward, legs spread to reveal all of her landing-strip bush. Her head pointed to the closet.
He got on top of Christina and forced his cock into her dead pussy. He started pumping, savoring the sight of both girls' dead faces frozen in fear.
- - - - -
Some time earlier, Marsha had come home to the ground-floor apartment. Some maintenance guy or something like that was walking nearby. She paid him no mind. It was a quiet afternoon.
She opened the door and was tackled from behind. Something knocked on her head, twice. She heard the door close behind her.
Marsha was slow to react, and before she could get up, something was forced into her face. A handkerchief. She smelled chemicals, then quickly blacked out.
The man took her to the end of the hall, neither knowing nor caring whose bedroom it was. He stripped off her sun dress and underwear, then opened the closet.
When Marsha awoke, lying on the bed, she'd been stripped down. She was horrified to find her attacker had dressed her -- push-up bra, stockings, and the slutty, showy garter belt she'd rarely worn but kept hanging in the closet. Her nipples peeked up over the bra fabric, and her bush, shaved into a landing strip for bikini season, was out in the open.
She was horrified to find him standing over her, naked, leering at the lips of her vagina peering out from her pubic hair. She tried to scream, but it was muffled by a ball gag. She tried to sit up, but her hands were stuck behind her back, with something on her elbows. She looked down. It was one of her belts, notched as tight as it could go around her waist and elbows, locking her arms in place behind her.
Marsha began to kick her way off the bed. "Oh, we can't have that," the man said, smiling. "You woke up before I could finish." He grabbed one ankle, roughly, and slapped a handcuff around it. Marsha flailed, trying to keep her other leg out of reach, but he was on top of her now, pinning her down, and after a short struggle, he got the other ankle into the other cuff. Marsha was shackled. Even if she could get up, she couldn't run.
"Now, let's see what's in store for you," the man said, mocking. He scooped Marsha up by the waist easily, like she was made of straw. As she squirmed and writhed, still trying to produce a scream, he took her into the closet.
He had taken all the clothes out of the right side and dumped them on the left side. That left a wide, clear area were he had placed a chair. Martha kicked and bucked as he carried her onto the chair, trying to get her to stand. Her head hit the clothes rod. She felt her feet bang against the closet door.
Could the neighbors hear? She kept Mmmphing viciously and kicking hard.
He had strung a thin rope around the clothes rod, tying it loose into a slip knot that left a large hoop hanging down. As he got Marsha onto the chair, he tried to force her head into the loop. Once she realized this she knew he planned to hurt her, maybe even strangle her. She fought back hard, but the man was patient and strong. Standing on the chair, he easily lifted her by the waist and manipulated her head into the loop. He pulled one end, and the rope caressed Marsha's neck.
Marsha was in near hysterics now, screaming for her life. But the rope tightened quickly, and she knew she had to stand on the chair or be hanged.
She gained her footing and tried to calm herself, tried to plead through her gag.
"That's a good girl," the man said. He tightened the loop more, and Marsha's blood went cold. I shouldn't have stood here, she thought. I've signed my own death warrent.
The rope went tighter, actually pulling Marsha up, partially onto her toes. Her breathing was raspy. Satisfied, the man tied it off in a tight, tight knot behind her head.
"Now, the special touch," the man said. He got off the chair and slowly pushed it back, towards the closet's back wall. Marsha shrieked into the gag. She was now standing on tiptoes on the frontmost edge of the chair seat.
The man got back on the chair. "You have a choice now," he said. "You can step forward and die now, or you can fuck me and live a little longer."
Marsha sobbed but she knew she had no choice. She arched her back and pushed her buttocks backward, putting her in an even more precarious position, offering up her cunt.
"We won't need this now," the man said, unlatching the ball gag. Marsha was having trouble breathing. She screamed, but all that came out was a short, raspy grunt. The man grabbed her hips and guided his cock into her. She shrieked again and again, but couldn't draw much breath. More tiny grunts came out, hardly loud enough for anyone to hear. And if they did, they'd think she was just having sex.
The man pumped her for a long time, and helpless Marsha just sobbed, tears streaming down her face. Then she felt the pain in her legs. She couldn't keep up this position much longer.
"Please," she managed to grunt. I - I can't last much longer."
The man just laughed and fucked her harder. He reached forward awkwardly to squeeze her breast painfully. He slapped her ass, nearly pushing her off the chair. Marsha shrieked and sobbed. Finally, he grabbed her hips again and began thrusting even harder, harder still, until she felt his cock throb as he came inside her. After savoring the sensation, he pulled out, wiped his cock on her butt cheek, and went out to sit on the bed, leering at Marsha again.
"Oh god," Marsha whispered, gasping. "I can't - hold this - position. Please! Don't - leave me - like this!"
The man just smiled, and Marsha knew he was going to let her die.
Seconds later, her toes cramped severely. Her balance gave out. Marsha slipped forward, off the chair, now supported only by the rope underneath her chin. It cut off nearly all her air. She could take small, painful gasps, but she knew it wouldn't be enough. She was going to die slowly.
Please, she mouthed, unable to make a sound. Please.
She tried kicking her feet back to the chair, but the man had gotten up. He pulled the chair out of the closet and sat back on the bed to watch the show.
Marsha was twisting left and right furiously, her breasts wiggling inside the bra. Her legs were too tired to kick back or forward. Instead they just thrashed aimlessly. Marsha croaked and wheezed with every small, insufficient breath. Her eyes were wide and worried, her face a frown of anguish.
Her eyes opened even wider as her body weakened. Oh god, this is it, she thought. She underestimated her body, though. Her lungs would continue drawing air for several more minutes.
The front door opened, and they could hear Christina in the distance. "Hey, Marsha!"
The man smiled again. A roommate. He looked at the bedroom door, cocked open, then retreated into the closet. His clothes were there, and he had more rope in his pocket, which he took into his hands. He chuckled softly. Marsha wailed silently in dismay. Get out, Christina! she thought.
The man closed the closet doors and held Marsha's feet so she couldn't bang against the door.
Eventually, they heard Christina come in. The man stood behind Marsha, who was clearly fading but still breathing and conscious. Christina opened the other closet door and peeked in. She didn't see the two figures in the darkness, but the man could see her nearly naked form, and it thrilled him.
His heart was pounding as she closed the closet door. He let go of Marsha and moved more towards the other side, so that he wouldn't be seen at first as the next door opened. All she would see, at first, was Marsha.
He noticed that his cock was erect again. He
clenched the rope in one fist and poised as Christina began opening the
other closet door. This was going to be fun.