Posted by Ripper X on November 19, 2003 at 01:32:22:
I am all for this site getting back on track, and this sounds like it could be a lot of fun as long as others chime in as well! So I guess that we go first.
Only one weapon, oddly enough this isn't as easy as it sounds. What-with so many to choose from? Ask me on different days and your likely to get different answers each time, but today I think that its Poison. But none of those nasty ones that makes the victim sick or are unsettling to experience and watch. We need a very special toxin that can be slipped into a drink, and used against a very special victim whom herself, is a heartless murderess. One who is unrepentant and always quick to dispatch another without giving it a second thought.
We'll meet her for drinks, you know, so we can listen to her gloat for a bit. Of course her sherry has already been tainted. After her first drink then its just a matter of waiting, watching her enjoying herself. Listening to her twisted mind at work before we fill her in on our little secret.
It's a gentle toxin of our own invention, one that is gentle on the system, a poison that by itself wouldn't be fatal at all. All she has to do is relax, relax and don't move a muscle because this toxin effects the heart, if she stays calm and controlled then she'll survive it but it won't be easy, to much excitement and her poor little heart just won't know how to take it.
That's it– she's got it now. She's sat down and that vial mouth of hers has stopped. Her attitude has greatly improved! But its no shocker really, I mean with a woman who's entire career has relied on her control. She's a predator who lies in wait, letting her prey come to her and then when the time is right, when her prey's guard is down, when they aren't expecting anything, she pounces! But she can't pounce now, now she can feel only fear, fear that is pouring out of her eyes. Eyes that were only cold and hateful before are now pleading. Pleading that I tell her more about our special toxin. She didn't expect this, she's doing a good job! Her breathing is slowing down, her mind has grasped the situation. Perhaps its time to spice things up? After all, we don't want to make this too easy.
She really is a stunning creature, and so well behaved now, too. Mmmm, smell her hair, push her long hair to the side and touch her soft neck. Bend down and whisper into her ear, tell her how beautiful she is. Women like that. Let her know how much that she has teased you today, tell her that she smells like an exotic orchid . . . her taste in perfumes is exquisite. But we want to see more of her, its okay, she can't fight you. Just take her hands and pull her back to her feet, she can stand up, it won't hurt her. Stand back and look at how pretty she is. Unzip her blouse, let it slip from her shoulders to a pile at her feet. Of course she isn't wearing a bra, not her. She's much to vain for such things, she likes to show her tits, and such exquisite breasts they are! Her hard nipples standing at attention just begging to be pinched, but there will be plenty of time for that.
We instead turn our attention to undoing her silk slacks, watching them fall to the floor– Oh my, just look at those pretty thong panties! The way they hold to the curves of her body. We can't help but touch her now. Walking around her, our fingers lightly grazing her skin; so young and soft, her body so strong. She's feeling exposed now, all of her animosity and hate can't be seen anymore; she's become a girl again. Not knowing what to do with her hands, her fingertips betraying her. She really wants to keep those panties on, but she doesn't want us to know that. We'll leave them on, at least for now anyway.
Her face is so pretty now, so passive, so shy. We can tell that she doesn't want us to be here, her eyes averting our hungry gaze. Her light gasps for air when we lightly run our fingers over her belly, softly tickling her. How can we not just want to gobble her up? Perhaps there is something that we can do to calm her down, to make her feel at ease.
Picking up a strawberry, we try to feed her but she just turns her head, looking away. "Now is that a way for a young lady to act?" we ask her, teasing her pouty lips with the sweet berry, coaxing her to take a quick bite just to please us; or get it out of her face, whatever we choose to believe really.
We are pleased, eating the rest of the berry while we caress her exquisite chest. She is gazing into space, trying to ignore us and futilely unresponsive to our touch. She takes a deep breath, sighing like she was bored . . . well we can't be having THAT now can we?
She's such a pretty girl now, with a finger around her chin, we turn her face towards us, her eyes still fixed at something off in the horizon. We just can't help ourselves anymore, her lips are too inviting and we must kiss them. She almost fought it at first, her hands beginning to raise to push us away in protest, but instead she lowered them again and just let us kiss her unmoving lips for awhile, till her will quickly caved in and instinctually she began kissing us back, slowly at first until her mind became drunk with passion. Passion suddenly broken when she pulls away, her vision blurring, her getting head dizzy; her hand pushes us away as her knees become jelly, but we catch her . . . panting for breath, her hand touches her forehead; her world is spinning, but we've stopped in time.
We carry her to a spot where we can lay her down, let her regain her focus. Gives us some time to focus too, while we disrobe and watch our delicate orchid panting and relieved that she is going to be okay. "It was just a false alarm," she's whispering to herself, "just relax and everything will be fine.". But of course you know better then that, but she's allowed to keep her optimism– for the time being anyway.
Her arm draped over her eyes, muttering something to herself– making herself more inviting to you. "Oh shit," she whimpers as she feels your gentle touch on her sensitive body. Your lips and tongue probing her panting flesh, seeking out her secret places, "no, no, no, no, no."
Her lips beg you to stop, but you know better. Besides, you couldn't stop even if you wanted to. Her smell intoxicated you, your tongue digging into her sensitive bits; your teeth hungrily nibbling her taunt aching flesh. She cursed her flesh, nothing should feel this good. Betrayed by her own carnal desires, they would be the death of her . . . somehow making what she felt even sweeter.
Her body strained as you enter her, you had to be careful . . . she was on edge. Her mouth opened in a sharp gasp and her eyes looking at you in total shock, as if it was only till just now that she realized that you were there. Her eyes pleading, though your not sure if she wants you to stop or to continue– neither is she.
You gaze into her wide eyes for a bit, then sadistically you give her a little thrust. "Just a taste," you tell her, "Just a taste of what's to come." She wants to scream, she wants to scream so bad that you can feel it yourself; its welling up within you, but before it can come to life you give into your own carnal impulses. The unwilling submissive fighting to ignore you: Ignoring what your doing to her: Ignoring just how good what your doing to her feels. Fighting to remain focused, fighting to remain still. Her mind trying to escape into an inner cave somewhere, but your unrelenting thrusts keep dragging her back into the body that she is fighting so hard to keep. You fuck her crying flesh, you fuck her as if she was already a corpse. Her rigid body gasping, writhing, and pulsing under and around you. You are relentless, an animal with your kill in your sharp sharp teeth, you listen to her cooing turn to gasps to groans and change back again. Her life trapped somewhere between ecstasy and hell until finally her throbbing pussy tightens around your tool of her demise, her fingernails dig and tear into your back; her life pumps out of her, spurting from between her legs, her entire body one giant tight muscle squeezing you as your own orgasm wells up and explodes from deep inside of you, each exhausting squirt coming from every fiber of your being as you crush your missing lover to you, as if you could somehow pull her inside of you, forever yours to keep but it is useless. Soon your senses again dull down and the pleasure again spills between your fingers, yet you're satiated, you're glowing and content. Pleasantly exhausted but content.
You look into the eyes of your fatal lover, once again she is staring off into the horizon at something far off that you can't see. A thin trail of blood running from her lips and down her soft cheek, her mouth still so inviting, but you know that she is but a pretty, yet empty husk. You wish that it didn't have to end like this, but however you must keep reminding yourself that she would had it no other way. Now just kiss her cheek and whisper to her, "Good night."
-RIP