The gift of her lover’s nylons

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(4)

(edited and reposted)

She didn’t see me come up behind her while she was working in the kitchen of her lover’s discreet apartment planning an intimate dinner for two. She didn’t know I’d been waiting for her, hadn’t bothered to check the entire apartment to make sure she was alone. All she’d done was come straight into the bedroom and discover the pair of nylon stockings her lover had left for her as a gift.

She took them back out with her to the kitchen, muttering to herself how sweet he was. She left them hanging on the pantry door while she started working on dinner, although I have no reason why she did being as how she was already wearing hosiery with her heels. Fortunately for me they were going to come in handy.

She looked sexy in her blonde hairdo and her short, light blue dress with the strings in back that secured it around her neck and backside. I could certainly understand why another man might find her desirable, especially in her nylons and black high heels. But I wasn’t there to understand. I was hired to make her pay for cheating on her husband, and I was determined to carry out my task.

She let out a yelp of surprise when I grabbed her from behind. Then she started screaming as I wrestled her down to the floor. I grabbed one of the nylons hanging from the pantry door as I forced her down onto her stomach and pulled her arms behind her back. “Shut up, bitch, or it’ll go bad for you!” I growled. “Now stop fighting me!”

“Why are you DOING this?” she sobbed into the floor as I finished tying her wrists behind her back. “What do you WANT with me?”

“Just shut up and stay still!” I growled in warning. She whimpered with fright, a delicious whimper that excited me as I carried about my business.

When I was through I pulled her up to her knees. “Please!” she whimpered. “Let me go!”

“I can’t do that,” I said quietly, looking around. When I saw the other half of her nylons hanging from the door I reached out for them too, quickly deciding how best to use the other one.

A smile suddenly came to my lips under my black hood as I thought about it. This might work out better than I’d anticipated! I found it deliciously ironic, ending the life of an adulterer by using the gift of her lover’s nylons.

“What are you going to DO??” she gasped, whimpering in fear. But she quickly figured things out the minute I wrapped the nylon stocking around her neck. Then I grabbed both ends and started to pull.

“I’m going to KILL you, my dear,” I told her matter-of-factly, and she gasped in horror. Her cry of alarm was instantly cut off as she gawked and gurgled. Then she began to struggle violently.

“Sorry, honey; no hard feelings,” I said apologetically. “It’s just business, baby. Your husband wants me to end your affair with your lover, and he gave me explicit instructions to kill you.” She rasped for breath as her arms jerked behind her back.

“Nice and slow, I’m afraid,” I added after a brief pause. “I think you really pissed him off. So this is probably going to take a couple of minutes” Her garbled cry of “NOOO!” as she tried to breathe was actually kind of sexy.

I maintained a steady tension on the nylon stocking around her neck, not enough to choke her right out, but certainly enough to make it hard to breathe. She wriggled and struggled in the kneeling position, her arms jerking up and down behind her back. She rasped and gurgled, still getting air but finding it all but impossible to scream. Then I pulled her back over my knee to get a better grip, forcing her to look up at the ceiling.

She put up a hell of a fight, finally kicking her legs out from underneath. I must admit that I enjoyed it immensely. The more she struggled the more I forced her lower and lower to the floor with the inevitability of her impending death.

Her legs flew out in every direction as she struggled to pull in each new breath, her heels sliding all over the kitchen tile. Her secured hands came around her body as though she was trying to reach the nylons that threatened to cut off her air supply. But all she could do was helplessly flex her hands. The whole scene was terribly erotic.

I resisted the urge to talk to her, resisted the urge to tell her to keep fighting just for my benefit. She was certainly getting me all worked up as she fought for her life. Her mouth gaped open as though that might help her gain better access to more gulps of the air she needed to live. Her tongue protruded out past those crimson lips of her, and her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe, her face darkening considerably.

I held her there for a few more delicious moments, her wonderful gasps and kicks rewarding me for this particularly enjoyable assignment. Then I decided it was time to take her beyond the edge. So I pulled the nylon stocking ever tighter around that lovely neck of hers. Her gasps and gurgles took on an urgent tone as her kicks became more frantic, her hands flailing and flexing wildly as though they might fly off her arms.

I held her there for another minute or so before pulling even harder, causing the nylon stocking to dig itself into the folds of her neck. If anything it triggered a renewed burst of desperate energy. Her eyes and mouth widened, her gurgles deliciously emphasizing the wild flailing of her feet. By now she was flat on her back on the floor, giving me an easier grasp of the nylons I was holding onto.

I finally decided it was time to put her out of her agony. “Ok, honey; I think that’s enough suffering,” I told her gently. “Time for you to die now, baby.” And with that I pulled as hard as I could.

There was a final, delicious explosion of activity on her part as her feet flew in every direction. No sound came out of her mouth other than a few soft gurgles, her chest heaving as she tried to breathe. Her hands wiggled behind her back, flexing like crazy as her feet flew upward in a final attempt to struggle. Then they collapsed onto the tile floor with a heavy thud as her hands dropped away behind her back. Then she was still.

I maintained the tension as her body shuddered in death, and I heard a rattle of sorts deep in her chest. Her lips quivered as though she was trying one last time to speak. Her eyes fluttered a little before she seemed to relax with a gurgly sigh.

There was the occasional muscle twitch, but she was no longer conscious to be aware of her muscle spasms. Her face softened as her lifeless eyes stared upward from the agony of strangulation. Her juicy red lips were parted enough to reveal her pearly whites.

I knew she was gone, although I held the tension for another minute or so. But there was really no need. At last I let go of the nylon stocking around her throat, allowing it to drape across her neck.

Her husband wanted some lewd pictures of her corpse, so I lifted up her skirt and tore a hole in her nylons. She was wet down below; she must have experienced a horrific arousal while I was strangling her. I decided it was good that her body enjoyed itself on some level before the traitorous bitch had been strangled to death.

I untied the strings to her dress around her neck and pulled her top down. She had a nice set of titties, highlighted by her tan lines. Her nipples were erect; she’s obviously experienced some sort of arousal during her suffering. There was a distinct smell of cum and urine; perhaps she had climaxed in her final moments.

I lewdly positioned her body before snapping some pictures from several angles. She was quite the stunner; no wonder it was so easy for her to be unfaithful. At least I would be able to tell my client she would never fuck another man’s cock again.

Just to make sure, I snapped a few shots from a couple more angles. Then I took my leave. With any luck, her recent lover would get blamed for strangling her with those nylons…

© 2007, 2015

(written Dec 2 by riwa)

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