Posted by critmk on January 22, 2002 at 06:46:56:
The Scamming Stewardess
a story by critmk
Chapter 13: Breathless Barbanne
How much time had passed since the first tug of that infernal stocking around her throat?
Barbanne had no idea. Her view, with her face pressed to the carpet, was limited. She recalled Gia, her back bloodied, crawling away from her, showing glimpses of white panty along the way.
She’d heard the throaty whisper of silenced gunfire, numerous moans of pain – and pleasure – and at least one body hit the floor. She’d heard Leona talking and giggling and Dominic’s calm, low voice, but apprehended them only as meaningless vibrations. It was beyond her to make sense of the words spoken over her head.
She’d smelled blood and cordite, intermingled.
She’d felt the pressure of Leona’s foot between her shoulder blades. And most of all, she’d felt that damned stocking tightened and loosened around her neck, burning into her flesh as it constricted.
Barbanne did not know how many times she’d lost consciousness, only to regain it, ever more dimly, when Leona gave some slack. The confusion was as frightening as the pain and the prospect of death. She wasn’t sure what was going on around her, except that it was very bad. Has she been tortured so for hours? Days?
In fact, it had taken less than 20 minutes for Gia, Sativa, Carne and Lissa to die.
Barbanne, feeling lightheaded and disconnected from her body, felt strong male hands slide between her breasts and the hotel carpet. She was pulled upright, but her legs were jelly.
The stocking was a little looser. She could breathe, but the room was spinning around her. As Dominic picked her up and cradled her, Barbanne’s only clear vision was of Lissa -- dead, bullet-riddled, leaning against the door. Barbanne closed her eyes, but Lissa’s death stare was etched in her mind’s eye.
She felt herself dumped heavily across a bed. Feminine hands – Leona’s – further loosened the stocking. For the first time in what seemed like days, Barbanne breathed freely and gulped in air with chest-heaving greed. A hard tug on a handful of hair interrupted the underappreciated pleasure of simply breathing.
Now Leona’s hot breath was on her cheek. Barbanne opened her eyes, and Leona’s face came into focus. It looked enormous and angry.
Leona spoke in an icy whisper: “You’re a snitch and a traitor. You could have cost me my fortune, the love of my life, my life itself. You’re going to die for that. As you die, Dominic will rape you. And as strangulation forces your tongue out of your mouth, I will guide it into my pussy – so I will rape you, too. Good-bye Barbanne. I’ll see you in hell.”
A paralyzing terror prevented Barbanne from struggling or crying out until it was too late. She gathered one last inhalation, intended for the glass-shattering scream of a lifetime, when Leona struck.
With shocking force, the stocking jerked tighter than it had been all night and the scream was trapped in her throat. Barbanne was blind again, to everything except shooting stars flying across blackness.
Dominic gathered her flailing legs and locked them tight behind the knees with his iron left arm. With his right, he cut away the thin, gray cotton shorts. She was writhing desperately – rolling her hips, arching her crotch upwards – but he managed to remove the bit of clothing without leaving a switchblade mark on her.
She was deeply tanned but for a bikini line that Dominic found very sexy. Her triangle of dense, light-brown pubic hair was cropped neatly within the white shadow left by her thong.
Barbanne knew that she would be dead within minutes. As she felt Leona’s thighs clamp onto either side of her face, she focused on two thoughts: I will not eat that bitch’s pussy. And I will not let that bastard fuck me! She clamped tongue behind her teeth, despite the enormous pressure that would force it from her mouth. She kicked and rolled and fought and writhed, to make a moving target of her pussy. The thought of him ramming home that monstrous dick gave her the will to fight even as he parted and subdued her legs.
The fight went out of her when a probing, gentle tongue, rather than a brutal penis, came into contact with her suddenly wet pussy. A fire rose between her legs as he nibbled and kissed her and flutter-tongued her clit. Her writhing turned from staccato to undulating legato, from violent to sensual.
This would be Barbanne’s last round of erotic asphyxiation, but it wasn’t her first. She had tried it with a boyfriend years before. She had been frightened not so much by him as by her own attraction to the practice. But now she was dying; there was no reason not to let go.
She stopped fighting her tongue’s involuntary snaking out of her mouth and let it reach deep into Leona’s vagina. The murdering bitch was bouncing on her face, but Barbanne didn’t care. She was beyond the pain of mere pummeling – she even thought it was funny, in a way – Ha! Pussywhipped! Certainly, no one had ever beaten her up quite this way.
Neither did she care about death. She was downright giddy with the freedom of not caring, of surrendering fully to the pleasure of her own hot feminine juices flowing between her legs and Leona’s over her mouth. She surrendered to the big dick bulling its way, at last, into her, to its long, slow strokes, and to the male thumb that somehow expertly worked her clit even as she was being fucked.
And then it came, the sudden flow of semen, along with the convulsive, climactic twitching of the woman riding her face. The man and the woman were fucking one another through her, and she could feel electricity flowing through her.
Barbanne lifted her hips off the bed and drove the man as deep within her as a man could be. Her trembling lips pressed hard against Leona’s womanhood. She shuddered violently with the last pleasure of her life, and the blackness before her eyes turned fire-white and Barbanne knew what heaven was.
Leona and Dominic, sated and winded, flopped back onto the pillows. Dominic, finally, rose on one elbow and considered the dead body lying at their feet across the bed.
She was in her 30s, he guessed. Her top had pulled up, revealing a hard brown right nipple and a sweet little breast that had gotten its share of Australian beach sun. Her face had reddened some, but never turned that ugly purple typical of strangulation victims. Her open eyes looked peaceful.
“You know,” Leona said, “I got this weird feeling that she was kind of enjoying that, toward the end. I hope not – I wanted her to suffer.”
Dominic continued to stare at Barbanne as he replied. “If I didn’t know you better, if I were unaware of your sweet and generous nature, I might think that you’re turning a tad sadistic on me, dear.”
“You think she’s cute, don’t you?” Leona said.
“Well… I wouldn’t kick her out of bed.”
She gave him a hurt-little-girl frown, then laughed. “Don’t forget – I’m the jealous type.”
Dominic thrust a foot beneath Barbanne’s right buttock and gave her a flip. She rolled off the end of the bed and clunked to the floor.
Leona snuggled up to him and closed her eyes. Just before she drifted off to sleep, she said: “Mmmm, that’s better. Just the two of us. You and me. Dominic and Leona. Leona and Dominic.”