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A perfectly miserable day
(recently edited and reposted with an additional 760 words)
Kim sighed in frustration, anxious to go home. She could hear the quartet of male teenagers over by the 18th green. They were taking their sweet time and she was beginning to wonder how long it was going to be before they finished with that damn hole. All they had to do was putt the stupid ball – either it went into the center hole for a hole-in-one or it didn’t.
She hoped they weren’t messing around with the tank. But they were all about 13 or 14 years old and acting like a pack of wild animals. She wasn’t all that certain she wanted to go over and hurry them along… not that they would do anything to her. She could certainly take care of herself although there was no point in tempting fate.
She checked the clock on the wall and noted it was 11:05 pm: five minutes after closing time. Kim decided to make a quick sweep of the miniature golf course, picking up the trash along the way. That was she could approach them from the other side of the course and see what they were up to. If they were still there then she would kick them out.
Kim locked up her little shack before heading off to the first hole with an empty garbage sack in her hands. ‘What a miserable day!’ she told herself, shaking her head in disgust. She was glad it was almost over.
First she’d gotten a flat tire on the way over to the course and had been late for work. Then her grandma and grandpa – God bless ’em – had tried AGAIN to talk her into putting on a mermaid costume for the tank that bordered the 17th and 18th putting greens. After all, they knew she liked the water anyway so what harm would it do?
Once more they’d told her it would be good for business. And once more she’d politely turned them down. She just didn’t want to be ogled by teenagers with raging hormones, certainly not for no minimum wage anyway.
With its pirate theme the golf course had done well in its hey-day. Originally there had been many willing young females who’d been hired for a few extra bucks to put on a costume and swim around in the tank. But the times were changing.
For starters there were more businesses cutting into the pool of available young women willing to get their hair wet. Besides, there was a dwindling number of eligible young men who still found playing mini-golf a worthwhile activity. Now there were fewer and fewer who were even willing to put on a mermaid tail and play in the tank for what her grandparents could afford to pay them. Besides, it usually didn’t take long before they got tired of going up and down in the water and being gawked at like some circus side-show freak. Usually they only lasted about three or four weeks before they became quite unhappy and quit over the jeers and lewd remarks.
Kim had discovered most of them couldn’t hold their breath worth a damn in the first place. Out of curiosity she had found ways to time each mermaid she’d seen in the tank. That’s when she’d learned she could outlast nearly all of them, sometimes by as much as 40 to 50 seconds.
There were a couple of girls who’d barely been able to do half a minute, each of whom had quit within a week of being hired. As a result, her grandparents hadn’t found a new mermaid for the last month and a half, another reason why they kept asking her to put on the tail and spend some time in the tank. Business had eventually dropped off significantly without the signature mermaid in the tank for the 17th and 18th holes.
They’d pleaded their case with her of course, but Kim had remained adamant. As a 19 year old, she wasn’t about to put on a stupid tail and cavort around in the tank while young boys gawked at her, not for no minimum wage anyway. She understood they couldn’t afford to pay more. But she was willing to come in to work and man the cash register. She was also willing to crawl into the tank and clean the glass every now and then… even swim down and pick up the stray golf ball that spilled out of the bucket at the bottom of the tank. Why couldn’t they just be happy with THAT?
She dumped a small can of trash into her garbage sack before moving on to the next hole. But when she rounded a corner she saw a Cheetos spill on the 6th green. The orange snack food dusted the green around the hole.
Kim rolled her eyes in disgust, suspecting it was that quartet of adolescents. ‘Probably spilled ’em and then decided to leave ’em for me to clean up,’ she thought unhappily. That meant she would have to go back, get the dust buster and then vacuum the green before she left.
She stomped her way through the front nine before pausing to look at the tenth hole. She would have to remember to tell her grandpa the drawbridge wasn’t working right. Earlier today several balls had ended up in the stream running underneath it, causing several golfers to come back to the shack and request replacements. The place was really starting to need some fixing up.
She moved on, emptying the trash from the cans on every hole. When she reached the 14th green she emptied that can as well before coming around the mound and heading back toward the finishing holes. But as soon as the tank came into view she saw one of the boys suddenly look up rather suspiciously in her direction…
“Crap! She’s coming this way! Let’s get out of here!”
Kim saw four male teenagers suddenly stand up at the 18th hole. Two of them dropped their putters as they all made a mad dash toward the shack and the exit beyond. “HEY?!” she yelled instinctively. But that only seemed to spur them to go faster.
“RUN!!” one of them yelled. A moment later they were through the gate and had reached the bike rack. Soon they were pedaling their bicycles away from the course just as fast as they could go.
Kim watched them go before frowning uneasily. Having them rush off like that was not a good sign at all. It made her wonder what they had done to make such a hasty retreat.
She headed toward the 18th hole, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. ‘Stupid kids!’ she thought angrily. If it wasn’t for the fact that her grandparents really needed her help she would have chucked the whole thing and found another job by now.
She walked up to the tank expecting the worst… and wasn’t the least bit disappointed. Two putters lay at the bottom of the ten foot deep glassed-in enclosure. Several balls were scattered along the floor of the tank, indicating they’d been thrown in rather than dropping through the 18th green’s plumbing. To make matters worse, she could see the ropes to the pulley system that pulled both the bucket and the treasure chest up and down now lay in loose coils on the bottom of the tank. It was the perfect ending to a perfectly miserable day!
“Damn!” she muttered in disgust. She’d put on her swimsuit under her clothes on the off-chance she might be forced to get wet. Now that decision had been made for her. There was no way her grandparents were going to get into the tank to fix the pulley system, much less retrieve the balls and clubs! She would have to do it herself before she went home.
Kim sighed in resignation as she walked back to the shack and over to the exit. She closed the gate and padlocked it, unwilling to allow anyone to come in and surprise her while she made her underwater repairs. Then she stopped in front of the shack where she was hidden from the street.
She sighed again as she slipped out of her t-shirt and jeans, revealing a slightly faded black bikini she’d been wearing underneath. The top showed some serious cleavage from her 36 C’s while the bottoms were tied together in a bow on both hips with a string. “Guess I’m getting wet!” she muttered to herself. Oh well, a cool dip wouldn’t be so bad were it not for all those balls she would have to retrieve.
Kim suddenly remembered she’d left her apartment without bringing a towel along. She cursed under her breath, considering what might be in the shack she could use. But there was nothing available other than the rags she used for cleaning the glass of the tank. She’d taken all the towels out of her car and had washed them without remembering to stash a couple of dry ones back into the back seat of her vehicle.
“Great – just great!” she muttered irritably, throwing her hands up in disgust. “Now I’m going to have to drip-dry while driving home. What ELSE can go wrong?!”
She sighed again as she slipped out of her sneakers and socks. Then she walked back to the tank connecting the 17th and 18th greens, shaking her head in disgust. This was going to take some time for sure!
She opened the gate that gave employees admission to the top of the tank. Then looked down in dismay. The bastards had untied the ropes to the buckets and pulleys all right. She would need to hook everything back up just to get the ball retrieval system working again.
Kim had mentioned to her grandparents on more than on occasion that they should rig up another system to retrieve the balls from the bottom of the tank. But they had continued to drag their feet, believing that once they were able to hire another mermaid that particular girl would be responsible for bringing the balls up at the end of the day. Until then that job had fallen to her, especially since the ropes were getting worn and were sometimes slipping out of their knots.
This wouldn’t be the first time she’d had to make repairs, although this mess looked really bad. Next time she saw those boys she decided she was going to refuse them entrance! Then she shrugged her shoulders, deciding she might as well get started. After all, those golf balls weren’t coming back up by themselves. And without a dive mask she would have to do this with blurry vision.
Kim took a deep breath and then casually stepped off the edge of the tank, dropping into the cool water with a splash. Air bubbles streamed all around her as she dropped straight down until she felt her feet touch bottom. The shock of cool water on her system nearly made her gasp for breath as her nipples stiffened under her bikini top.
She burbled as she bent over, quickly pulling herself forward until she reached the two wayward putters. She took a quick glance out through the glass of the tank to make sure those teen bastards hadn’t returned to gawk at her. Then she scooped them up in one hand and kicked upward, blowing air out of her nose until she burst up at the surface.
Kim swam over to the edge of the tank where she tossed the two putters out onto the ground out of her way. There… that part was done! Now she had to work on the balls and that aging pulley system.
Kim took another deep breath before diving back down. This time she focused on gathering up all the loose golf balls. She quickly reached the bottom, grabbed the edge of the bucket to counter her buoyancy and then began scooping up the balls in the immediate vicinity.
It wasn’t long before she’d gotten everything within arm’s length. The rest were out of reach. But instead of surfacing for another breath Kim burbled as she kicked herself away from the bucket, determined to snatch up what she could before she had to surface.
She swam out toward the farthest reaches of the tank to collect the balls furthest away. She didn’t mind being underwater so much, but tonight she was frustrated with the way the day had gone. She didn’t want to hang around the shack any longer than was necessary, considering there was still that Cheetos spill on number six she had to vacuum up. Thinking about it only inflamed her anger; she could feel herself becoming more irritated by the minute.
She gathered up a handful of balls and then kicked back over toward the bucket, bubbling air out of her nose as she dumped them inside. She opted not to put them into the treasure chest, saving that task for later. She simply wanted to corral all the loose balls first.
She felt her lungs begin to burn with need as her chest heaved gently. But she shrugged it off as she turned and headed off to round up the rest of the multi-colored balls. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. Besides, she was certain she could hold her breath long enough to gather them all up.
The tank wasn’t all that big; it was only about twenty feet across. Everything was well within reach; she didn’t have to swim around all that much. It was just a matter of gathering them all up and then dumping them into the bucket.
There was plenty of room to maneuver; all the extra features of the tank had been removed about four weeks ago. In fact, SHE was the one who’d gotten wet long enough to pull everything out – the small pirate ship, the anchor on the one wall, the statue of the mermaid. Her grandparents had asked her to remove everything when they’d lost their last mermaid for fear of the stuff getting stolen. As a result it pretty much left the tank rather bare except for the treasure chest which caught the “hole-in-one” balls, that and the bucket along the wall which was supposed to catch the loose ones.
She burbled as she snatched up the remaining golf balls and then hauled them back over to the bucket. There; that much was done! She could head up for a breath and then come back down.
She felt her lungs heave and was about to surface when she saw there were a few balls in the treasure chest from the several hole-in-ones that had been made earlier in the day. It occurred to her that if she took them out and put everything into the bucket, she wouldn’t have to bring the treasure chest up at all. As her lungs began to heave she quickly began pulling balls out of the chest and tossing them into the bucket.
With her lung sheaving she tossed the last one in the direction of the bucket. When it rattled home Kim kicked off the bottom and headed for the surface. Her lungs were heaving; she’d really pushed this one!
She burst up to the surface and gasped wildly for breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She moved over to the edge and clung to it as she got her breath back, certain she’d been down close to a minute and a half at least. What’s more, all the balls had been collected and dumped into the bucket!
“Let’s see any of those wimpy mermaids beat THAT!” she panted aloud, imagining some other girl handling the task she’d just undertaken. She could easily imagine how some of them would probably have come up two or three times to get air just to gather up all the loose golf balls and dump them into the bucket… and here she’d done it all in one breath!
Kim looked down at her next project, only to feel her anger return as she studied the coils of rope lying on the bottom. “Stupid kids!” she muttered to herself, mentally calculating how she would have to repair the two pulley systems.
When she’d been gathering the golf balls she’d noticed the ropes had been removed from both the treasure chest and the bucket. They had also been unthreaded from the pulley systems and then deliberately discarded into the tank. She would have to rethread the pulleys and then restring the ropes through each layout. Kim sighed, angrily shaking her head while cursing those damned teens under her breath again.
The hole had been cleverly designed so that if a hole-in-one had been achieved the ball would roll through a pipe under the green and drop into the water into a thin, filmy cylindrical net that channeled it to the waiting treasure chest below. To be emptied, the chest was pulled up out of the water by a pulley system and then swung over to the side of the tank using an extra rope and extension. When Kim had first seen it a couple of years ago she’d thought it was pretty cool. Now it was nothing more than a pain in the ass.
The bucket was a little better, but not much. It sat at the bottom of the tank next to the wall, a pulley bracket allowing it to slide up and down a long metal pipe attached to the wall to help facilitate it’s up and down movements. The rest of the balls were channeled to the edge of the green where they dropped through a hole and swirled down to the bucket below. To pull it up and empty the contents, all one had to do was pull on the end of the rope sticking out of the pulley and it came right up. Only now…
Kim sighed in disgust, deciding there was no use putting it off. She took a deep breath and then dove downward, burbling as she swam for the bucket first. She found the end to the rope, pulled it free and then swam back up with it.
She came up gasping quietly, pausing to catch her breath. She had to reach up to snag the first pulley, but she managed to thread the rope through. Then she took another deep breath before swimming back down with the end in her hand.
There was a bottom pulley attached to the floor near the wall. A three pulley system had been set up in case the bucket and chest got a little heavy from a lot of balls. Kim reached over and threaded it through as a little air dribbled out of her nose.
She was about to swim up to the swing pulley – the one that pulled the treasure chest over to the side and helped bring the big bucket up – when she glanced at the bucket. She realized she should probably tie the other end to it first before taking the slack out. So Kim knelt on the bottom of the tank, adjusted her position as she began sorting through the coils, trying to find the other end.
The place was a mess; there were loose coils of rope everywhere. But she finally tracked it down. Then she began tying it to the wooden grip of the bucket’s wire handle that folded off to one side.
She felt that first undulation in her chest, indicating she needed another breath soon. But she ignored it as she often did when she wanted to stay down a little longer to complete a task. She wanted to get as much of the task done as possible before resurfacing. Besides, that Cheetos mess was beckoning to her.
‘Gram and Gramps really need to do something about this stupid system,’ she thought disgustedly. How many times had she been forced to make the swim to fix it? More than she could count right now… and it was getting late.
Kim released a little air out of her nose to relieve the growing pressure in her chest as she struggled to make a decent knot. The end was fraying; she probably needed to fetch a knife and trim it off. But she was in a hurry now; she just wanted to get all this done so she could get back to her apartment.
She’d just started to redo the knot again when she found herself drifting upward. Instinctively she stuck her foot into the mess of rope, wedging her leg in the area between the bucket and the wall. She didn’t want to go up just yet; even though she really needed another breath she wanted to finish this first.
Kim burbled as she worked the knot again. ‘Stupid rope,’ she thought in frustration. ‘Stupid pulley system; stupid kids; stupid golf course! Why do I keep working here? I hope Gram and Gramps appreciate all the hard work I put in for them here. They really do need to fix this place up!’
A moment later she regretted her angry thoughts. They were only doing their best to make ends meet. She needed to be more appreciative they were only trying to help her out as best they could by paying her for working there.
Kim angrily tossed the frayed end aside before turning her attention toward the chest. She found the end to the thinner rope and began tying it to the handle as her lungs began to burn. She really did need to go back up for another breath!
‘Yeah – yeah; in a minute!’ she told herself. ‘Let me get this one thing done first! I’ve got a couple seconds to spare!’
At least those creeps hadn’t unhooked the netting from the damned thing. She’d probably interrupted them before they could mess with that as well. Actually she’d tied the net rather well the last time it had worked loose; apparently they hadn’t had time to get it off before she had showed up and spooked them off. At least that had turned out well… one positive out of what was turning out to be a really lousy day.
Kim burbled as she tied off the rope to the handle. Then she gave it a good tug, smiling with satisfaction. ‘There; that should do… until the next time the damned thing comes loose!’ She actually thought the tank was pretty cool. But now she was thinking they would be better off just filling it up with dirt and avoiding the maintenance hassles, especially if they couldn’t pay for a good mermaid to swim around in there anymore
She felt her lungs heave in growing protest; it really was time to go. But Kim was in a hurry now, and she stretched back toward the stubborn bucket, determined to tie the damned thing off so she could get both ropes threaded through the pulleys above. She realized she should have hauled both ropes up to the first pulley instead of just the one. That’s when she chided herself for being so short-sighted.
As she started to drift up she stuck her foot in between the bucket and the wall again in an attempt to stay down, making sure she’d thrust it through several coils in the process just to keep herself down. She’d snagged some rope with her foot earlier. But she’d slipped right out of it easily enough when she’d focused on the treasure chest and it just wasn’t a big deal. Besides, the more help she got in staying down the better.
She found the end again and began tying it off, burbling angrily at the fraying end. She found herself mentally complaining that her grandparents really needed to break down and buy a new rope. Her chest heaved in protest, her lungs really beginning to burn now, but she thought she was almost done.
None of the other mermaids could have stayed down long enough to do what she was doing: hold their breath long enough to stay down and fix the ball retrieval system like she was doing. Hell, they would just go down, smile and wave and little, and then come back up after only a few seconds. Now if her grandparents could afford to pay her a whole lot more? Maybe – just maybe – she might give it some consideration…
…and then it was tied off!
FINALLY!
Kim’s lungs were on fire. But she was really pushing it now by wanting to find the loose end to the treasure chest and haul it up too. She was frustrated and she was probably pushing things a little longer than was necessary.
It didn’t take long to track down the other loose end. Kim began pulling it through the coils, only to discover it was really becoming snarled with the rest of the rope. ‘Crap, I should’ve pulled the one entire length all the way out and threaded it through by itself! Damn; now I’ve probably got my ropes crossed! This is such a fucked up system anyway! I don’t know why Gram and Gramps had to invest in some stupid miniature golf course!’
Her chest heaved in protest, her lungs demanding to be replenished. Kim decided it was time to go back up. But now she was thoroughly disgusted with herself!
In her rush she’d failed to separate both ropes. She’d also failed to haul both ends up to thread through the first pulley. She angrily realized she was going to be forced to pull the bucket rope back down to unsnarl everything.
‘Those stupid kids – it’s all their fault!’ she bitterly as she released more bubbles out of her nose to ease the pressure in her chest. If they would’ve left everything alone and not spilled those stupid Cheetos on the sixth hole, she’d be on her way to her apartment by now. What a miserable day this had turned out to be.
Tossing the ends away and giving up in disgust, she pulled away from where she’d wedged her foot between the bucket and wall, kicking upward while pulling with her arms. Almost immediately Kim jerked to a halt less than a foot and a half off the floor of the tank, grunting in surprise as she lost a burst of bubbles. She looked down to identify the problem, only to discover the rope had NOT slid off her ankle like before!
What the hell??!!
She burbled angrily, pissed off that she hadn’t been more careful. But deep down she could feel that jolt of alarm settling in her stomach as her lungs heaved ominously. She reached down and tried to slide the snarl off her ankle, only to discover it wouldn’t come free.
What had she done wrong? By pulling on the end that led to the treasure chest and yanking on it in disgust, she’d inadvertently snarled it around her ankle. Then when she’d kicked upward and jerked to a stop, she’d only tightened it further!
Kim frantically worked to wriggle her fingers under the nylon around her ankle. She had to get it off right this second! Then her chest heaved mightily as she became all too painfully aware of the inferno raging in her lungs.
Kim’s eyes widened in growing horror as she realized how out of breath she was. She’d pushed herself too hard, stayed under too long by inwardly competing with some stupid minimum wage mermaid her folks had a tendency to hire. Now she spasmed hard, grunting in growing panic as her lungs cried out to be replenished.
Instinctively she began pulling hard for the surface, desperate for her next breath despite the entangled ankle. She managed to rise up another six inches but no more. All she’d accomplished was constricting the rope even tighter around her ankle, snagging her more forcefully.
For a brief moment Kim tried to calm herself down, tried to fight down the rising panic. She told herself she had to get the rope off her ankle, and she tried bending down and tugging on it. But still it wouldn’t come free; it was even more snugly wrapped around her foot.
At that moment her chest heaved painfully as her lungs screamed at her, demanding to be refilled. Kim instinctively tried to shoot upward in a panic, jerking up against the rope that tethered her to the floor of the tank. She flailed with her arms, pulling in vain just as hard as she could as her mind screamed at her to get to the surface right away.
Bubbles spewed out past her pursed lips, causing her to instinctively cover her mouth with her hand as her mind screamed in desperation. She knew she was going to inhale any second, and she grunted as she kept trying to jerk her ankle free. Her cheeks bulged as more bubbles spewed out of her nose and out around the fingers covering her mouth. Then she gurgled as her lungs finally gave out, unable to hold her breath any longer…
Kim’s chest heaved and she coughed and grunted. She swallowed water, coughed it back up… inhaled water down her windpipe. Then she began convulsing, her body jerking and spasming as little bursts of bubbles were forced out past her parted lips.
Instinctively she stretched upward for the surface, clawing desperately with her arms. But her ankle remained securely tethered by the rope to the bucket below. She gurgled again, flailed weakly for the surface… tried to scream for help. But all that came out was another gurgle as air dribbled out past her parted lips.
She spasmed painfully, her body rebelling against the infusion of liquid into her lungs. Then her muscles stopped functioning as she hung tethered by the rope to the bottom of the tank. She went completely limp, staring in disbelief up at a light on a lamp post illuminating a section of the miniature golf course.
She blinked in surprise at the situation she found herself in. Her muscles twitched from stray nerve impulses as her arms began to settle to her sides, hanging uselessly. It suddenly occurred to her that as much as she’d fought not to become a mermaid, she was now truly about to become one by becoming a permanent resident in the tank.
‘What a perfect ending to a miserable day!’ she thought as darkness closed in all around her. A moment later she let out a gurgly sigh as the rest of her life dribbled out of her body in a tiny stream of bubbles. Her eyes glazed over as she began to gently sway back and forth in the tank, her dirty blonde hair drifting lazily about her face. The golf course’s night lighting reflected off her body in the tank, making her appear to be some sort of siren from the deep.
It would be that very image the security guard would come across two hours later when he crawled over the fence to investigate why all the lights were still on and a vehicle was still in the parking lot…
© 2006; 2016 (inspired by – and written for – JQpublic Aug 8 ’06; ed. Feb 20 ‘16 by riwa)
Raping Terrie
(Another asphyxia-related story Terrie enjoys reading with herself in the lead role)
The woman named Terrie certainly seemed slutty enough… and what did one more missing slut matter to the world in general? So the trio of Brad, Scot and Margo slipped something into her drink at the bar. When she passed out they took her back to their special place for raping and murdering women.
They got her on the floor where Scot exposed her massive mammaries. She was just starting to come around when Brad grabbed her legs… “Shit; she’s waking up! Bag her, Margo!”
Margo quickly wrapped a bag over her head. Terrie began to struggle as Scot groped her tits while rubbing her exposed crotch. “Fuck; this bitch is WET!” he observed.
“Hang onto her!” Margo ordered.
“I AM hanging onto her!” Brad replied. “FINISH bagging the bitch already!”
“I’m TRYING, damnit!”
“Hell; this bitch is so fucking wet!” Scot declared as he continued rubbing her crotch. “She must LIKE being bagged!”
Terrie finally stopped struggling, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. “There; she’s gone!” Margo panted, removing the plastic. “Strange how the crazy whore acted like she was enjoying it or something the way she thrashed about like that!”
“Well, I’ve just GOT to have me a piece of that!” Scot gasped, pulling his pants down. “She’s so fucking wet I bet I slide right in!”
“You might as well enjoy her mouth, Brad,” Margo told him. “Let’s see what kind of blowjob a dead bitch can give!”
Brad pulled down his pants and thrust his hardening member into Terrie’s gaping maw. Meanwhile Scott grabbed her legs, pulled them apart and then thrust into her wet, winking cunt.
Terrie suddenly shuddered, grunting as she tried to breathe with a mouthful of cock. “What the hell??” Scot gasped in astonishment as he continued fucking her. Then Terrie’s arms began to flail.
“Finish her off, Brad!” Margo cried out as she frantically grabbed onto both wrists.
“Fuck; her cunt is clenching like crazy!” Scot observed.
“How the hell do I finish her off?” Brad wanted to know.
“Plug her mouth with your cock, you stupid sonuvabitch!” Margo hollered in frustration.
“Oh… good idea!” Then he thrust all the way down into her throat.
Terrie began to buck and shudder. “Damn; she’s really fucking me!” Scot observed. “She’s really milking me!” Then snot pushed out of Terrie’s nose.
“Don’t let her breathe, Brad; shove it all the way down! Who the hell cares if it gags her!”
Brad shoved his thick cock all the way down, totally filling her mouth. Terrie grunted as she struggled even harder. “Fuck; I think she’s cumming!” Scot gasped as he rammed his cock hard into her cunt.
Terrie grunted and gurgled as her eyes started to roll again. “Right there – right there; hold it right there!” Margo encouraged. “Hold it right there, Brad; she’s starting to fade!” Margo really had to hang onto both wrists to keep Terrie from smacking somebody.
Brad kept his cock rammed down Terrie’s throat until she gurgled and went limp again. “Damn, Margo; I though you bagged her last time!”
“I did, Brad; the bitch should have been dead!”
She just came all over my cock!” Scot gasped. “Fuck what a mess!”
“My turn!” Margo declared, finally letting go of the wrists and watching them flop onto the floor. “She should be dead now… so I’m definitely going to use my strap-on on her!”
They finished undressing her lifeless body while Margo undressed and then put on the huge strap-on. Then it was her turn holding Terrie’s legs apart while fucking her good and hard with the monstrous object. Terrie’s body rocked from the thrusts… until her eyes fluttered open and she started to breathe again!
Once more those arms started to come up. Brad had to grab the wrists just in time. “Fuck she’s awake!” Margo cried out angrily. “I thought you cock-choked her, Brad!”
“I thought I did too!”
“Strangle the bitch!” Margo told Scot who frantically grabbed Teri’s tank top and quickly wrapped it around her neck.
Terrie began to rasp and shudder, causing Margo to pump her all the more. “Harder; strangle the fucking bitch harder! I want her to cum as she dies! This time get it right, Scott!”
Scott pulled hard, but the tank top was thick and took a little more effort to constrict around her throat. Terrie started bucking again, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Then she started squirting…
“Fuck; the bitch is cumming!” Margo cried out, ramming her with the strap-on just as hard as she could. “FINISH HER, SCOT; FINISH HER!”
Scot pulled hard as Terrie writhed and shuddered. “Fuck; she’s cumming again!” Brad observed as he tried to hold onto those arms by the wrists. Then Terrie went limp again, her cunt squishing from Margo’s thrusts.
“Fuck; I came right along with her!” Margo panted, finally pulling out. “Who the hell IS this bitch? She keeps coming back for more; has she been asphyxiated before?”
“How the hell should I know?” Brad gasped. “But now it’s MY turn!”
“Brad can only cum after they’re dead,” Scot laughed. “That’s why he waits until the end.”
“She’s all yours now, Brad,” Margo waved tiredly. “Fuck that corpse to your heart’s content!”
Brad took up the position between Terrie’s legs, pulling them apart as he thrust deep inside. “Wet as hell!” he observed. “She must have enjoyed it every bit as much as we are.”
“Kinky whore,” Margo observed, shaking her head in amazement as Brad started his thrusts, making Terrie’s body start to rock all over again. Then to everybody’s amazement she started to stir yet again!
“What the hell??!!” Margo cried out in astonishment. Then she looked accusingly at Scot… “You call that ‘strangling her’??”
“But she was DEAD – I KNOW she was dead!”
“Well, she’s not dead anymore!” Brad gasped as Terrie’s arms came up again.
“Shit!” and Margo threw herself on top of her from the other end, mashing her boobs in Terrie’s face. “Do I have to do it all myself?”
“You’re the one who fucked up her bagging, honey!”
“Brad, you couldn’t cock-choke a garden hose!”
“Look out; she’s fighting!” Scot observed as Terrie started pummeling Margo with her arms while pulling her hair. Then Margo was pulled down into Terrie’s breasts, on the verge of being smothered herself!
“Grab her arms, Scot; she’s smothering Margo!” Brad cried out in alarm.
It took him a minute or so but he finally got both wrists and pulled up. Margo’s head came up gasping for breath… “Bitch nearly smothered me with her tits!”
Together the three of them ganged up on Terrie: Brad pounding her pussy hard; Margo trying to breast-smother her; and Scot desperately trying to hold onto her arms to keep her from pulling Margo’s head back down to smother her again. Terrie bucked and shuddered beneath them…
“She’s biting me – she’s biting me – OW; SHE’S BITING ME!”
“THEN SMOTHER THE BITCH!” Brad gasped. “I CAN’T FUCKING CUM UNLESS SHE’S DEAD!”
Margo tried to push all her weight onto Terrie’s mouth and nose. Scot had to hold on tight as Terrie kept trying to jerk her arms free. “Fuck; I think she’s cumming again!” he observed as he watched Brad pounding her pussy.
“DIE, YOU FUCKING BITCH!” Margo gasped. “DIE ALREADY!”
Terrie bucked and shuddered… started to settle… suddenly bucked a couple more times… and then went still beneath her. But Margo kept her tits mashed hard against the bitch’s face. This time she wasn’t taking any chances.
There was no further movement beneath her, although Terrie’s body rocked from Brad’s thrusts. “Oh FUCK!” he gasped. “She’s DEAD – YEAH!!!” Then he was cumming hard inside her, thrusting and cumming and filling her cunt with his spunk.
Terrie shuddered, her pussy misting. Scot looked down in astonishment, having yet to release her arms just to make sure. “Fuck; did she just cum again?” Margo panted. Then she looked at Brad accusingly…
“I thought you said you couldn’t…”
“I CAN’T… not unless they’re dead!” Then Margo climbed off and felt for a pulse in Terrie’s neck.
“Nothing… well I’ll be damned. Brad, I guess you WERE fucking a corpse!”
“Then what the hell was THAT??” Scot wanted to know. Margo shrugged her shoulders, still panting from the ordeal…
“How the hell should I know… death-orgasm maybe? At least the crazy, kinky bitch went out with a bang!”
“Are you sure she’d dead?”
“I checked for a fuckin’ pulse! There was NOTHING!”
Scot shrugged his shoulders and then changed places with Brad, fucking the corpse until he too filled her cunt with his cream. When he was done and had pulled out Margo was right there waiting with her strap-on…
“This one’s for me, boys… and all the trouble this piece of shit has caused us!” Then she got into position, brutally thrust into the soaked pussy and began pumping Terrie’s corpse hard.
Margo rammed the body like a woman possessed; she was none to gentle. Besides, she was pissed she hadn’t successfully bagged her to begin with. To her utter astonishment Terrie’s body shuddered a little as a spray came out of her cunt.
“Damn!” Scot observed in astonishment as he was dressing. “Did the crazy bitch just have another death-orgasm, Margo? Or was that you?”
“It wasn’t me, although I sure as hell came hard fucking the shit out of her.” Then she pulled out, deciding it was time for them to leave her for the coroner to find and enjoy. Terrie’s corpse would remain on the floor until her body was eventually discovered, having taken forever before finally being asphyxiated to death…
© 2016 (written for Terrie Feb 12 ’16 by riwa)
(Picture found on Terrie’s DFN album and used for illustration purposes only.)
Posted in Asphyxia Stories
Tagged bagging, choking, graphic sex, pictures, sex toys, strangling, topless
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Sibling Rivalry Exploited (Sisters)
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Sibling Rivalry Exploited (Sisters)
(c) Pinglis, 2015. Not to be reproduced without permission.
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Notes to the reader.
Anyone who has experience of being underwater wearing a mask knows that the peripheral vision of the wearer is severely limited. In other words, a diver can only really see what is directly in front of them at any one time.
This story is written with ‘omniscient viewpoints’ – that is, the story may be told from the perspective of the different characters (or narrator) all within a short space. This is not a usual practice for short stories as it can be confusing. However, for the believability of describing what a diver may see underwater, especially when stressed in a perilous situation, it is used here.
Otherwise, this is a fictional story of jealousy, revenge, betrayal and the ‘hit man’
Part of a series of assassin-related stories. Some feature a hit man, some feature a hit woman.
Contains scuba, scuba fighting, forced scuba drowning (not overly graphic), scuba erotica.
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The man sat quietly in the empty cabin of the chartered flying boat that was taking him to the location for his latest contract, put down his drink and opened the dossier on the job again. His quarry were two sisters who were competitive to the point of stupidity and who had a common problem – an absolute jealousy of others but particularly of each other.
They had another common interest – scuba diving – and this is why the man had been chosen.
From reading the material, the man discovered that the women were both in their twenties and had inherited stocks and influential positions of power in their late father’s pharmaceutical business. Far too much money and power for a pair of spoilt children turned adult to get through in one lifetime but they tried their best to spend their way through the company’s substantial profits all the same. They had also skippered a few high profile company deals of late through meddling in boardroom affairs and, in short, some very senior company people were getting agitated.
What the sisters couldn’t buy with the money, they bought with the power or their bodies – they were both toned from the gym and, although not stunning, they would turn most men’s heads and so flings and sexual persuasions were easy to come by. They also were adept at pleasing men, if it meant that they could get something useful out of it. However, one of the sisters, Ariel, had recently fell in love with a guy from a high profile rock band but it ended badly – they guy had just left her a note one day and left – and she had fallen apart for a short time. Her sister, Imogen, had secretly monopolized on his period by undermining her standing in her father’s business – a ruse to obtain increasing power and to subdue Ariel’s claim on the family fortune.
None of the information was as useful as what was in an envelope in the back of the dossier. He thoughtfully thumbed through the items; these were going to be pivotal to the success of his plan and he relaxed back into his seat and sipped his drink again.
He was not really the philosophical sort but it did occur to him that, sometimes, the business of eliminating people was a tricky one and sometimes, well, it just took care of itself. Often, the most difficult part of his job was avoiding alerting the authorities to foul play and the key to avoiding arousing those suspicions was to take care of the people who noticed the most and ensure that they noticed the least. The cab drivers, the door men of hotels, bar tenders, fishermen – they could always provide information on his targets, and his, final movements and that could complicate matters unnecessarily. Fortunately, these people often earned tiny amounts of money to support loved ones and a sizable bundle of cash shoved in a top pocket, along with an unveiled threat towards their families, worked wonders in allowing them to reconsider their observations.
Unusually, for this job, most of the covering of tracks work was going to be taken care of by his employers so the man just had to do his bit. And his bit, as he thought about the items in the back of the dossier, might just take care of itself, too. He felt the plane start to descend and he closed his eyes.
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Ariel and Imogen were drinking lunchtime spritzers on the deck of their yacht when the man came aboard. It was an unusually civil period as they had been quarreling loudly on the yacht for the last 10 days of their traditional Caribbean break and last evening had been no exception with the crew having to intervene in a drunken squabble which saw Imogen warning Ariel that if she did not sort herself out soon, the company board would be taking action against her as she beyond becoming a liability.
Right now, however, they both ceased hostilities and eyed the man who had immediately got to work and was checking the scuba equipment on the dive platform below. Imogen snapped her fingers to one of the crew who hurried over, not wishing to annoy her employer.
“Who is that?” asked Imogen sharply.
“It’s your replacement dive master for today, Miss.”
“Where is our usual master?,” inquired Imogen.
“Ill, Miss – an ear infection, I believe. This man has been flown in especially, and comes highly recommended.”
Imogen eyed the man’s torso – a fantastic six pack then her gaze surveyed his strong arms and thighs, a well defined chin and a high cheek bones. She smiled suggestively when the man looked up and her and grinned, and then she looked at her sister to see if she had also taken an interest. A pang of annoyance shot through her when she saw that Ariel was looking over the top of her sunglasses at him, too.
“Tell the usual master that his services are no longer required aboard this yacht,” snapped Imogen and the crew member nodded and walked off.
The man approached the sisters and introduced himself as their dive master and that he’d be taking them to a special spot that wasn’t well known to most in the area. The yacht was already being readied to take them there and, by the time they were kitted up and he’d talked through the dive plan, they’d be over the site.
The sisters eagerly finished off their drinks and moved to the platform, with Imogen making a nuisance of herself by claiming that she needed help with her kit, just to take attention away from Ariel. But, the man deliberately flirted gently with Ariel, which he could see was annoying Imogen. He had to be careful not to overstep the mark, though – the dive had to go ahead – but the sisters had to be exactly in a right frame of mind for what he had planned.
Imogen squeezed herself into a white, tight halter necked one piece with a very high cut leg, black fluting that emphasized the lines of her body and a zip up front, which she provocatively left open to show off her medium sized, natural breasts. She strapped her yellow scuba tank on next, the red harness straps cutting down the sides of her body to meet the belt around her waist. She made sure that the man watched her as she took time to strap her knife to her toned thigh, leaning over in his direction and allowing him to look at her cleavage. She was pleased to see that she had distracted him away from Ariel even for a short few moments, especially as Ariel has also noticed and a flash of annoyance had passed over her face. Soon, her clear oval mask was over her forehead, weight belt around her waist. She smiled suggestively at the man as she slipped her white, open toed fins onto her feet, and he admired her toned legs then returned a grin.
Ariel had changed into a shiny, rubber-effect wet look bikini with a skimpy top, which struggled to contain her breasts, and boyish shorts. Thanks to the man’s hands occasionally touching her body as he assisted her in kitting up, the top largely failed to disguise her increasingly erect nipples. “The temperature must be dropping,” sneered Imogen when she them poking at the bikini material and Ariel countered with, “Actually, I think things are heating up.” They exchanged glances, Ariel clearly winning that exchange. Imogen snorted.
Soon, though, she was kitted although she couldn’t find her usual mask so she rummaged around in a chest of dive gear and donned a vintage dual pane mask that she remembered that her father’s young mistress (who Imogen despised) was rather fond of. She didn’t fail to register the sneer on her sisters face when she spat into it and cleaned the lenses. “You’re using that old thing?,” snapped Imogen, pointing to the mask. “Why not?,” responded Ariel, “it’s newer than yours.” The man then reached into the chest and pulled out a huge, vintage dive knife and handed to her. “Looks like something out of an old movie,” she commented and sniffed the sheath. It had a fabulous rubber smell, despite its age. She carefully placed it against her calf and allowed the man to tighten up the rubber straps while she studied his tight ass as he bent over.
The man stood upright and asked them to go and stand at the edge of the dive platform. The sisters obliged. He stood behind them and, in turn, turned their air on and slipped their regulators over their shoulders. Ariel was first to test hers then let it fall to her side. “It’s good,” she remarked.
Imogen grabbed hers and felt in her hand that it wasn’t the usual shape. She raised it up and turned it, regarding it suspiciously.
“Where is this old thing from? Is it safe?,” Imogen asked.
“It’s a Cyklon,” replied the man uninterestedly.
“Cyk..what? Is it safe?,” asked Imogen.
“Perfectly safe and better than the rubbish you were using before,” insisted the man.
Imogen struggled to push the mouthpiece between her lips at first as it was bigger than her usual one and sampled the air.
“Is it OK?” he asked, thinking that her lips looked fantastic around the oversized mouthpiece.
“Mmmmph…Yemmph,” she replied breathing heavily through it.
He placed his hand over it and removed it purposely from her mouth, watching her lips deform around it and leave a little trail of saliva on it. As he did this, the yacht rolled and he placed his hand on her stomach to steady himself. A brief flush of excitement ran through Imogen’s body from his touch. While he still watched her face as it flushed, she slipped her tongue out and pushed the tip into the mouthpiece then, deliberately slowly, jostled it back between her gums, all while watching the man’s eyes, which never left her mouth at any time. A few moments later, he looked deep into her eyes and then snapped out of his thoughts, reaching out to move her contents and depth gauge console to where she could find it.
The man cleared his throat.
“A few moments, please,” he requested, then moved to the back of the platform and quickly donned his large twin scuba tanks, fins, weights, knife and mask.
Imogen turned to quickly look at the man who wore his kit over a pair of black shorts which clearly showed the outline of his substantially sized semi-hard cock and thought about how good he was at using it. She then gazed at his twin tanks and wondered why he might need quite so much air. Her thoughts turned erotic and she imagined him fucking her under the water – something that she had not done before but which appealed to her.
Imogen turned her eyes and looked towards Ariel who was also watching the man kit up and appeared to be deep in thought and this caused her some more annoyance. Ariel snapped out of her trance and caught her sister looking at her and returned the gaze; they exchanged a particular look when they’d both seen something that they both desired and this was no exception.
They just couldn’t help themselves. As the man came to stand between them, he fitted a strange device to his knife holder.
“What’s that?,” asked Ariel.
“Capture noose.”
“A what?,” inquired Imogen as she put her hand over his as he held it.
The man looked at her briefly then took his hand away from hers and unclipped the object. It was constructed from a thick rod about a foot long with a diameter of a few inches. At one end, a thick cord looped out and back to the rod, then ran down a groove which ran the full length of the rod to the other end. The groove was covered. At the end of the groove was a special metal clasp with a gripper strip cut into it.
The man demonstrated how it worked to the women; he released the clasp and let the cord out then looped it over his wrist and, with one hand, pulled the cord sharply then pushed the clasp shut with his thumb.
They looked a little confused still.
“I use it for catching and restraining prey,” he remarked, then allowed it to hang down next to the outline of his penis which bulged out his shorts.
The women said nothing but looked at the rod resting near to his cock and thought about a few scenarios where both items could be used on themselves.
The man enjoyed the silence, knowing full well what the women were thinking about and it stiffened him. He hoped that the two women noticed.
He waited for a few moments then announced, “OK, let’s go. If you haven’t already – put your regulators in and hand over masks. Stride on 3.2..1…Go!”
The women fumbled their regulators in and entered the water first. He checked his watch then strode off the platform to join them in the warm turquoise water.
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After a brief check on the surface, he signaled to descend and duck dived below first. Kicking for the bottom, he rolled over to look behind him and saw the two women following closely behind, bubbles steaming from their regulators as they finned to keep up with him. He cleared his ears and they copied him then he rolled over and looked towards the bottom where the wreck lay at a depth of about 12 metres.
As the women went deeper, they saw the outline of the boat. It wasn’t big but it clearly had a recognizable bridge, two decks and a bent funnel. The wreck sat almost upright with a sizeable gash in the hull on the side they were approaching from and they wondered how it had ended up here and were a little excited about the prospect of exploring it. Previously, they’d dived on the reef, quite shallow, looking at the fish and often just following a tour line that the previous master had put out but this man clearly had a more exciting outlook. The wreck looked dangerous and interesting, not unlike the mysterious man who was leading them towards it.
The man leisurely finned towards the main deck, approximately one third of the hull length back from the bow and grabbed onto the distorted railing which ran the full length of the hull. As the women arrived, he grasped Ariel’s hand first to help her grab onto the railing, then he assisted Imogen; the current wasn’t strong but he just wanted to touch them – to keep the ball rolling.
They all paused for a moment to take in the view – the deck above them overhung a little causing a tunnel effect and light flickered in from either end. Fish circled around and it was very peaceful, only the sound of their scuba equipment and an occasional metal groan from the hull of the wreck upset the tranquility.
The man turned to the women and they arranged themselves in a circle to do his dive check. As usual, he gave the OK signal to Ariel first. When he offered the OK signal to Imogen, he delighted in her arched eyebrows in her mask, as she failed to hide her annoyance before she signaled OK back. He reached out and took Ariel’s scuba tank contents gauge and checked it then signaled OK to her and smiled around his regulator. She smiled back. The man then checked his own air gauge and looked back towards Ariel and gave the OK again.
Imogen was particularly irritated as she had pushed her breasts forward to get his attention and he’d ignored her. She huffed into her mouthpiece, let go of the railing and finned towards a doorway she’d seen towards the bow but she stopped before she got there and looked back. The man noted that she had gone but pretended to ignore her and, instead, took Ariel’s hand then finned and pulled her down, along the hull, towards the bottom. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed it back then he rolled over and ran his fingers along her cheek. Bubbles burst from her regulator as she ‘mmmm’d’ in acceptance and she responded by running her fingers up his arm. Over Ariel’s shoulder, above them, he saw Imogen’s head appear over the side of the main deck watching them. Then it disappeared again as she slid back out of view. Imagining how Imogen would be feeling, his cock hardened even more.
He let go of Ariel’s hand and moved towards the bottom, nearer to the bow. She followed slightly behind, admiring his toned thighs and butt and she felt some pangs of desire start in her stomach nd groin. She’d always found scuba diving to be erotic but today had taken a turn for the better. And this man was totally desirable – she just had to keep Imogen away from him.
‘Imogen! Where was she?’ thought Ariel and she quickly swiveled her head all around but her sister was nowhere to be seen.
She looked back to the man who appeared unperturbed by Imogen’s disappearance and she felt relaxed if he was.
The man had settled on the bottom below her and she joined him. She motioned that Imogen had gone and he shrugged touched her cheek then ran his fingertips from her lips, down her throat and to her breasts. Forgetting her sister, she reached out and ran her fingers down his chest then to his crotch, stopping at the top of his shorts. The man looked into her eyes and ran his fingers up her legs then between them, feeling the groove of her mound behind her bikini shorts. Excited bubbles burst from her regulator as she watched his eyes and she forgot about her sister and all of her problems for a moment.
But Imogen was not far away – she had moved to a different vantage point and was watching them both caressing. She bit down on her mouthpiece in anger.
The man checked his watch then signaled to Ariel to stay put for a moment. He looked around then raised his hands to signal that he didn’t know where her sister was. She grabbed at his hand, pulling him onto her, but he waggled his finger and grinned back. Then he finned upwards to where he had just noticed Imogen watching them caressing from.
Ariel looked up and watched the man ascend away, enjoying the sight of his powerful legs. She checked her air gauge and her tank registered almost full but she was not used to being alone underwater as their previous dive master stayed with them always. She found the freedom a little exciting and it made her feel adventurous.
She reached out and touched the rusty hull of the wreck, wondering why she’d never found this one before as she’d dived this area quite often. Looking up again, she watched as the man disappeared over the side of the deck, out of view, and she felt the urge to follow where his fingertips had…up her legs and into the groove of her pussy behind her shorts. She gasped a little then slid her hand inside, looking around and up, nervously, while she touched herself and pictured the man touching her from a few moments before.
“How dare he touch me? We’ve only just met,” she thought but gently rubbed her clitoris with her fingertip and exhaled with pleasure.
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The man caught up with Imogen near the bridge. She had her hands on a porthole and her head was poking inside, her long legs trailing out behind her. He finned close to her and watched for a moment – watched her rounded ass filling out that sexy suit of hers, the fluting accentuating her curves. He reached out his hand towards her but paused and his eyes followed her air hose from the first stage on top of her scuba tank, over her shoulder to where her cheek obscured it. He thought of her suggestively pushing it into her mouth when they were back on the dive platform and he thought that she’d make an interesting fuck. He moved to the other side of her and enjoyed watching the bubbles bursting from her Cyklon’s exhaust. With his hand hovering just away from her leg, it’s length accentuated by her fin, for several second then grabbed her ankle very roughly and immediately yanked her backwards towards him.
Imogen squealed with surprise as she was pulled backwards and flailed her arms as her hands lost grip on the porthole. She turned quickly to see who or what had grabbed her and she was surprised to see the man looking straight into her mask, his expression commanding. He tightened his grasp on her ankle, which hurt her a little, and she tried to pull her leg away but he was strong. He then grabbed her other ankle, very hard, and pulled her legs straight, towards him. Confused, she tried to fin away but her ankles were held tight and she struggled to free herself, wriggling her body ineffectively. When she realized that she could not free herself, she stopped struggling, and the man used his hands to pull himself along her body as if he was climbing a ladder.
She lay motionless, excited by his hands on her body. Bubbles burst from her regulator as his rough hands grabbed at her and she pushed down on his shoulders, half-heartedly, to stop him bringing his head to hers. He responded by grabbing her buttock and squeezing it hard. ‘Oh, it’s like this, is it?’ she thought as his hands moved to cover her breasts and squeeze them, causing her to exhale in excitement for a long time.
‘How things change in a day’, she thought, glad that she fired the previous dive master. She released her hands from the man’s shoulders and put them behind her back in submission and he watched, his cock stiffening even more. He looked at the shape of the shoulders with her arms drawn back, her scuba harness passing over them and down the side of her breasts. He took in the lines of her body in the gear for a few seconds, enjoying the sight; she looked exquisite.
When he brought his mask level with hers and looked into her eyes, she thought his eyes had the look of animal desire and she responded by reaching both her hands down to his shorts, lifting the material up with one hand and then sliding her fingers inside, her fingers already curled and ready to grasp him.
The man looked into Imogen’s mask, her jet black hair flowing around it, and enjoyed her green eyes staring back at him, her eyes also full of want. He thought that Imogen was a kindred spirit – probably the stronger of the two sisters – and ruthless with it given what she had done to Ariel.
His suspicion that she’d be an interesting fuck was largely confirmed. The weak push on his shoulders then her putting her hands behind her back had confirmed it. She was probably very inventive and the sort who likes to be submissive despite having a powerful position in society. He thought of fucking her when she had been tied up – another sexual interest of his – filling her pussy with his cock while her hands were tied tightly behind her waist, his hand over her mouth, feeling her tongue licking against it as sweat from her face ran over his fingers. She’d be swearing against his hand, her sounds muffled, demanding that he ‘fuck her harder.’
Her eyes watched as the man opposite her zoned out for a moment. She could tell that he was thinking about fucking her and it excited her a little more. She stroked his cock and was impressed by its apparent size in her hand. Her thoughts turned to him doing her face down from behind. Rough. Quick. Her left feeling unsatisfied and dwelling on it for days, until the next time she’d let him do it to her.
She wanted him, no doubt, he could see it. But, he couldn’t quite determine if it was because she found him attractive, or to get one up on her sister or because she was used to getting what she wanted. No matter, really, he thought. They weren’t going to fall in love and get married – he had a job to do.
He ran his finger tips down her one piece and between her legs while she watched his eyes. They rolled up and closed for a few seconds when he pinched her clitoris through the fabric and he watched her lips purse around the regulator mouthpiece as she bit down on it in pleasure. He felt her hand continue to work inside his shorts, her other hand outside, squeezing his balls.
She opened her eyes again. When they refocused on his, they were filled with desperate want.
The man smiled to her and moved away, much to her annoyance, her hand slipping out of his shorts. She snarled a little around her mouthpiece then played long. He beckoned her to come inside the wreck with him. She hesitated at first, as her old master had warned her about such things without a safety line but he seemed to know what he was doing, so she kicked her fins and followed into the murk.
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Ariel checked her contents again. Still plenty of air but he had been away for what seemed to be a long time now. She looked through the hatch where he had told her to stay and saw something glinting inside, on the floor. She looked up and around again but saw nothing, not even bubbles except her own, and she moved towards the hatch, hanging on the plate of the hull either side. The object was close, close enough to slip inside and grab but she hesitated as, like Imogen, she’d been warned about going into wrecks. It didn’t take long to kick up silt and she would be in a blackout, not knowing where to go next, and without a line, it could be fatal. Still, if she got the object, perhaps it would better whatever her sister found on the dive and she could get one up on her. She finned cautiously inside.
The object was a box, like a cigar box but bigger. It looked quite new and it had mirrored glass items stuck to it. “What the fuck?,” she thought as she reached out to it. Picking it up and cocking her head to one side as she regarded it. She turned it over then back upright again. Then she opened the lid.
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Imogen followed the man inside. He paused at the back of the bridge, at the top of a rusty staircase, and looked back. She went to swim down the staircase but he grabbed her arm and stopped her. Annoyed, she looked into his eyes and tried to free her arm. The man spread his fingers, twice, indicating that he had no flashlight / torch and she understood. But she could see weak natural light filtering up from below so she thought it was OK. Patronizingly, she patted his shorts, then finned downwards. As her legs kicked, he released her arm and then smiled after her as she finned down into the hull.
‘That’s my girl,’ he thought.
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Ariel’s eyes widened as she saw the first photograph, face up in the box. It was her ex – the one who had hurt her – leaving Ariel’s apartment and it looked like the sort of photo that private investigators took. But what was his photo doing here? She tipped the box over and saw more photos float down out of it and, dropping the box, grabbed them before they dispersed. The second photo was of Imogen, waiting at a table in a restaurant – she was dressed very sexily in a revealing black number – looking very slightly bored. The next photo showed Imogen and her ex sitting at the table together, intimately toasting each other with champagne. The next photo showed them leaving the restaurant together and the next photo showed them going into Imogen’s apartment. Ariel paused breathing as she flicked through the rest. Imogen and her ex fucking… her sucking him. Different positions. His body on hers. Him inside her. And, in the last photo, Imogen appeared to be looking right into the camera as her ex arched his back, presumably, coming inside her.
Her expression Ariel had seen before – each and every time that Imogen decided that she was going to take what Ariel had.
Her heart pounded and thoughts raced.
Rage built inside her, like nothing she had ever felt before.
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Imogen slid down the stairwell, pulling herself along via the rails but paused at the bottom. To the right was a corridor but it looked very dark. Ahead was a bulkhead with a door in it – ajar. Beyond it was a platform with rusted railings around it. She grabbed the doorway sides and pulled herself inside, excited. She’d never been inside a wreck before and she wished she had brought a torch but adrenaline flowed through her body which dulled her decision making processes.
She finned to the railing and grabbed onto it. Below, almost in the centre of the room was a diver, kneeling, with their back to her. From the short, bright red hair, she guessed it was her sister but what was she doing in here? Imogen turned and pulled herself down a short staircase, her legs folded vertically behind her, then held her breath and sneaked up on the diver, approaching just slightly above her and looking over her shoulder. The diver was looking though something that she’d found. A number of things. Then she noticed that they were the photos. And she instantly recognized them as the ones she’d had one of the company investigators take of her and her Ariel’s ex. She’d taken the ones of them fucking as a trophy. She’d done it because Ariel had something she hadn’t and wanted something in her arsenal if she wanted to hurt her sister but when Ariel had gone off the rails, she’d felt some compassion and disposed of them, hoping that they would never be discovered.
But here they were and in her sister’s hands. Her heart sank and she felt a little nauseous.
Ariel’s rage was manifested by short intakes of air then bubbles from her regulator. Her chest rose and sank quickly as she looked around, back to the hatch where she came in and then behind her. Nothing. Then she looked over her other shoulder and saw her sister, hovering there, watching her.
Her fucking sister.
At first, Ariel was surprised but then she realized that it must have been Imogen that planted the photos.
Why else would she be here now?
An immediate desire to kill her overtook any other thoughts that she had.
Ariel did not even register the look of shame on Imogen’s face as she was already pushing off the bottom towards her sister who was already holding her hands out in defense.
Ariel grabbed towards Imogen’s face, but Imogen grabbed her wrists and they wrestled together. Ariel tried to roll her sister over, underneath her and succeeded, pushing her sister towards the bottom. Imogen’s tank hit a platform support and clanged then hit the bottom soon after. Ariel was clawing at her mask and regulator and she was having a hard time keeping her sister’s hands away from them. Ariel pushed her sister down onto the bottom and was surrounded in bubbles from her sister’s regulator as it tried to keep pace with the demand of the woman’s lungs.
Through the bubbles, Imogen saw something in Ariel’s eyes that she’d never quite seen before – absolute and clear hatred. She knew she was in big trouble.
She was absolutely sure that Ariel would kill her if she was allowed to get the upper hand in the fight.
Imogen struggled but managed to roll Ariel over but Ariel used the momentum to continue the roll and to get on top again. Imogen reached out to grab a rail or support nearby but couldn’t quite grab anything and Ariel used this opportunity to force her sister towards the stair railing then pushed her arm into it with some force. Her sister squealed into her regulator mouthpiece with pain and momentarily let go of Ariel’s wrist, allowing Ariel to grab at her mask. Imogen strained her body to keep away from her sister’s hand but, while looking away, she didn’t see Ariel’s hand grab hold of her vulnerable air hose. She felt Ariel’s fist against her cheek as the hose was clenched, then Ariel pulled it with all her strength, tearing Imogen’s regulator from between her lips. Bubbles streamed from her mouth as she cried ‘No’ then she saw her sister holding her air source away to one side, as far as possible from her.
The man now watched from the hatchway where Ariel had entered the wreck. He followed her down the stairwell watching her cute bum wiggling in her one piece as she used very small fin strokes to slide her body forward. She was so hot to look at and the thought that her and her equally fuckable sister were likely to be in a scuba fight to the death within a few seconds had sent his pulse racing. He tried to be professional and had cleared his thoughts enough to return to the task – he had quickly closed the bulkhead door behind her then quickly finned up and out of the bridge and down to where he had told Ariel to stay.
Now he was observing the struggle he anticipated; the fight that he had planned to happen. His hand was already in his shorts, grasping his cock and stroking it’s tip and he tried to decide who he would like to win, which basically amounted to which one he’d have to finish off by himself.
It was a tough call. For now, he just enjoyed the sight – he’d always liked to watch girl’s fighting especially when they showed their penchant for guile and it turned dirty. This was ten times better, though – it was underwater and it was obvious that only one of them would be leaving this one alive. He was particularly impressed with the way that Ariel had forced her sister to release her grip by smashing her wrist into the metalwork and then gone straight for her regulator yanking it firmly away. “No messing about – just like a pro,” he thought and smiled.
Imogen looked at her regulator and tried to grab for it. She stretched as far as she could but it was just out of reach. She tried to squirm her body around to reach a few extra inches but Ariel had her pinned to the bottom tight. Realizing that the situation was dire, she flailed around for a few seconds, losing precious air from her lips as she cried out to be let free.
Her eyes narrowed as she realized that panic was not going to recover her air source and she quickly switched her attention to her sister’s mask as she knew Ariel was not comfortable with water in her eyes. Holding Ariel’s wrist firmly to stop her protecting her face, she closed her fingertips over the edge of her sister’s mask and lifted it from her face, causing it to flood.
Imogen had seen the expression that now came to her sister’s face before when she had flown into an emergency ascent after another diver accidentally knocked her mask off with their fin. That time, she had gone to assist her sister although the dive master had done most of the work calming her down. She had mostly watched, smugly noting another of sister’s weaknesses. She never thought she’d have the opportunity to exploit this one.
Behind the glass, Ariel’s face was fully submerged and it changed to that of panic. She immediately started to try to free her held wrist but, since Imogen held it tight, Ariel then released Imogen’s regulator and brought it to her mask.
Imogen reached out for her air source as soon as it floated free.
Ariel moved upright, away from her prone sister, hand to her mask, tipping her head back and exhaling, desperately trying to clear it.
Imogen quickly grabbed her regulator back and fed it back between her pursed lips, exhaling quickly to clear it then greedily sucking on the air it gave. As Imogen continued to watch her sister struggle to clear her mask, she thought that it was time all this was over. Only the strongest survive. If Ariel was prepared to kill her, then she should be prepared to do the same.
Imogen’s eyes never left her sister as she slid her fingertips down her thigh and undid her knife retainer clasp by flicking it off with her thumb. She could see that Ariel was close to clearing her mask and would be attacking again as soon as it was done. Distracted, she fumbled for the knife to pull it clear of the sheath, but couldn’t find it, so she brought her leg up into her body and turned her mask to look. She grabbed the knife easily this time and slid it out of its sheath but she had lost valuable seconds.
Ariel had finally righted her mask and cleared it. Looking back, she saw her sister with her knee up against her chest and the reason for it. Her hand was closing over the handle of her knife and when it was withdrawn from the sheath, she saw the glint of the knife blade that she now wielded towards her.
Ariel stretched her long, toned leg out level and reached for the knife strapped to her calf. She had to work quickly as she wasn’t sure if her sister was using her knife for attack or defense but, as she looked back towards Imogen, it was clear from her sister’s expression that attack was on her mind so Ariel gave up on retrieving her knife and finned backwards and away. She yelped as she hit her head on something overhanging above her and immediately felt dizzy. As she looked towards what she had hit, she noticed racking placed against the bulkhead and some of it was leaning over.
As Imogen approached slowly from below, Ariel turned her body and pushed the heels of her fins against the bulkhead, her hands on the racking. She strained her muscles and the racking started to move – a metal shriek filled her ears as it started to topple over towards her sister. She rolled over just in time to see Imogen, below, changing direction to desperately avoid the racking that was falling onto her.
As Imogen finned on her back, watching her powerful legs work, she saw the racking come down and, momentarily, she thought she would easily get clear. Then, a sudden pain hit her legs at the knees which prevented her from finning any more. She tried to pull her legs up towards her, but the metal scraped down her lower legs, scraping skin off, then snagged her fins at her ankles – and it pulled her down with it. When the racking came to rest on the deck of the room, it pinned her to the floor. She looked down her body and saw the metalwork across her thin ankles. She pulled her legs up but they wouldn’t budge so she tried to roll and that was not going to work either. She arched her back and neck, air hose kinking and stretching as she shook her head from side to side, and pushed out against the deck with her arms, desperately trying to dislodge herself but she was held fast. She breathed quickly, rapid bursts of bubbles exhausting from the vintage regulator but it was no good. She had been just inches from getting herself clear but now she’d need help to get free.
And then she saw Ariel circling down from above her.
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Imogen flailed her arms around in at attempt to search for her knife – she’d dropped it as she tried to avoid the racking but she could not feel it lying on the deck.
As she searched, she looked towards the hatch in the hull where most of the light was entering from and saw the outline of a diver.
It was the man.
He was watching but waiting. Was his hand in his shorts? She was sure of it. Why? Her eyes pleaded to him from behind her mask as she stretched her hands out in his direction, beckoning him.
A distorted “help” was shouted into her mouthpiece but he didn’t come.
He just watched.
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Her view of the man was suddenly blocked as her sister’s folded legs came into view and Ariel settled on the deck, kneeling next to her. Ariel had deliberately positioned herself so her mask and regulator were out of reach of Imogen – no mistakes this time – and she looked along her sister’s legs to the racking that pinned her. Satisfied that she wasn’t going anywhere, she returned her gaze back into Imogen’s mask.
Imogen hoped her sister would show pity and she motioned towards the racking, making a pushing motion, imploring Ariel to free her. Ariel’s expression did not change as the brought her hand from behind her back – and grasped firmly in it was the knife that Imogen had dropped. As her sister brought the knife towards her, bubbles erupted from her regulator exhaust as she shouted a muffled, “Noooooo!”
Swinging her head to one side then back again, she could see that Ariel had now grabbed her air hose and was holding it in front of her mask, clenched in her fist. Her other hand held the knife blade against the thin rubber hose and slight pressure was applied. Imogen watched as the edge of the blade sank very slightly into the rubber and then was held away again. She looked into Ariel’s mask. Ariel looked back. Her eyebrows were narrowed and she looked determined.
Then Ariel started to slice her air hose again.
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Suddenly, an arm appeared from behind Ariel’s head which then crossed her throat, pulling her back. A hand reached around from her other shoulder, moving swiftly towards her regulator and closed tightly over the circular exhaust of the Cyklon she was breathing from. Ariel squealed and released the knife and her sister’s hose, and reached up, fingers clawing at the arm across her neck. Her dyed bright red hair swirled in the water as she swiveled her head around in panic, desperately trying to see her attacker.
Imogen watched as Ariel’s regulator was being tugged out of her sister’s mouth. Ariel knew what was happening, too, as she reached up to protect it, fingers grasping at the body of the regulator while she bit down onto the rubber mouthpiece instinctively.
Despite her efforts, the regulator was jostled then pulled with such force that her lips distorted with the mouthpiece almost being torn free – salt water slipped in but she managed to work it back a little between her teeth, Her lips pursed, she got a few more rushed breaths before it was tugged again, this time much harder than before.
She could not hold it this time and it was torn clear.
Bubbles erupted from her lips as she screamed.
Imogen watched, not quite sure whether what she was seeing was a good or bad thing. It was the man behind her, as she recognized the huge Rolex dive watch on the attacker’s wrist but she could not see his face and was fixated on her sister screaming her air out of her lungs. She was even more perplexed when the attacker forced the regulator back into Ariel’s mouth and, while she was distracted, grabbed her wrists and yanked them behind her waist.
Her sister let out a moan for help as her arms were overpowered, and she wriggled her body, desperately trying to release her hands so she could protect her regulator from being snatched again.
Breathing quickly, she changed tack and tried to turn herself towards her attacker and partially succeeded, but her hands were still held tight.
Imogen could now the man, kneeling behind her sister, his legs astride hers. He was holding both of her wrists with one hand while slipping something over them with the other. When she looked closer, she could see it was a cable tie. Imogen screamed to her sister, who put in an extra effort to free herself. Despite the man almost losing grip of Ariel’s wrists, he yanked the tie tight and then turned Ariel towards him. Rolling over onto his side, he ignored her panicked expression and kicked her hard in the stomach, away from him, with his heel. He watched as bubbles streamed from her as she exhaled, winded, and then tried to curl herself up into a ball, legs pulled up tight into her belly. The man moved quickly towards her and grabbed each of her ankles and pulled them hard towards him, causing Ariel to squeal.
Then the man paused and looked back to Imogen and grinned.
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Turning back, the man watched the woman struggling in front of him. Her arms were behind her back, pushing her breasts out, and he could see the underside of them beneath her bikini top. They don’t like being captive either, he thought, as his gaze moved over her flat stomach to the muscles working under the skin of her legs as she struggled to free her ankles from his grasp. His cock was so hard. Not just because of her struggling body looked so good, but because he had admired how she had dealt with Imogen. He’d almost let himself watch her slowly and deliberately cut her sister’s hose, just to hear the hiss and bubbles of escaping air that never quite blotted out the inevitable screaming into a regulator that had suddenly stopped delivering air into a panicking diver’s body.
Yes, with some training, she could have been of some use to him if maybe their paths had crossed differently, but he had to finish the contract and he had his own ‘bonus’ in mind. Grasping each ankle in turn, roughly, the man slipped off Ariel’s fins and discarded them. Then he released her.
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Ariel was panicking and dazed. She kicked her legs hard but they just cycled ineffectually, no longer having to cope with the water resistance that wearing a fin provided. She knew she would stand no chance against him if she tried to swim away as he would easily catch her. The man was approaching her again and she lashed out with her feet.
The man grabbed one of Ariel’s ankles again and held it firmly. She kicked it with her free leg but it didn’t make him let go. With his free hand, he reached towards her calf and unclipped the vintage knife she had strapped there. He removed it from the sheath as she watched, her eyes registering fear. She stopped kicking and moaned “No” into her mouthpiece.
He then moved between her legs, parting them and positioned his body between her thighs. She didn’t resist out of fear. He brought the knife to her bikini shorts and slid the blade beneath the fabric. Ariel felt the cool blade slide over her pussy lips and she squealed into her regulator. The man smiled then pulled the knife upwards, slicing the fabric easily. Reaching down, he grabbed her shorts and pulled them away. Ariel was shaven, just how he liked it. Quickly, he slid two fingers gently inside her tight pussy, his thumb roughly pushed into her anus.
She squirmed and exhaled a long stream of bubbles as he held her like a bowling ball.
Imogen watched as the man removed his fingers then pushed down his shorts then brought his impressive erect cock up to her opening and started to push it inside her. He grabbed her weight belt with one hand and used it to pull her onto his cock – a long stream of bubbles came from his regulator as he slid his shaft all the way into her. Then he started to pump her, slowly and deliberately. She struggled, wriggling ineffectually, bubbles erupting from her regulator in very short bursts.
The man looked down at Ariel’s body. He liked girls who liked to be tied up almost as much as tying up those who didn’t but doing it underwater was so very much better. He sucked on his regulator, his twin tanks probably had plenty of air to deliver but he hadn’t checked for some time and not knowing often increased his arousal.
He thought of two things while he fucked her. His own air running out and also the chance that Imogen would get free and attack him. The danger of both excited him and his regulator bubbled with excitement as his cock slid in and out of her tight kitty with each stroke.
Imogen watched as the man cupped his own balls and squeezed them hard. Then he released them and reached forwards over Ariel’s body and around the back of her head. Imogen watched as the man’s arm jiggled as though he was operating something then she let out a yelp as she realized what he was doing….
The man’s hand closed over the valve on the top of Ariel’s scuba tank and he looked towards her face. She’d turned to one side and he could only see the side of her mask sitting on her high cheekbones. The regulator in her mouth looked inviting and he wanted to take it away from her but he had a different idea for this one. He held his breath before he slowly turned the valve clockwise to close it. He listened to the rush of air into the woman’s regulator then bubbles of the exhaust intently. Before he reached the 5 turns required to close the valve fully, the rushes of air stopped and muffled screaming into her regulator began.
He’d shut off her air supply completely.
Ariel had tried to blank out what was happening to her. She couldn’t quite believe the situation that she was in and she felt numb. What she couldn’t blank out was feeling that it become hard to inhale. Just as the realization hit her that she might not be able to breathe, her air stopped completely. She sucked in hard, but there was no intake of air to be had. She wanted so badly to reach for the regulator between her lips, to check it was still there. To take it out, purge it and put it back but her hands wouldn’t budge. She let out a muffled screamed and sucked again. No air.
She felt dizzy.
The man always enjoyed the few moments between turning a woman’s (or man’s) air off and them realizing what had happened. It was a sweet few moments that he sometimes did for pleasure (he kept in touch with a few people who liked breath-play and met them for illicit sex) and, better, when he did it for business. It took a good few moments for the woman in front of him to realize it as, unlike breath-players, she wasn’t expecting it and he used this time to almost slide out of her pussy. When her realization set in, given away by the confused look in her eyes, he sunk his shaft deep into her again.
Moments passed. He knew she wouldn’t last long because she had been exerting herself for some time and she never got a decent breath before he shut her air off. He watched as she alternated between sucking desperately on the mouthpiece, willing air from it, and releasing a little burst of air as she panicked.
The man pumped her hard now, quickly. She hadn’t got long left. He watched her cheeks deform inwards as she sucked so hard to get air. Clearly weakening, she shouted a muffled help into her regulator then looked into the man’s mask, pleadingly. He watched as her eyes started to roll up in her head, whites showing. He smiled back around his mouthpiece and breathed deeply, teasingly. Her struggling lessened and he knew he needed to cum quickly. He could see her no longer trying to suck on the regulator and he also felt the warmth from his balls, working up into his cock. He watched her wriggle her body one last time, just as his cum spurted into her, his cock throbbing satisfyingly. He arched his back with pleasure and strained against his scuba tank harness. Apart from a few more convulsions, she moved no more and her legs went limp. He relaxed his body. Spent.
The man paused for a while then reached around the back of her head which had lolled backwards. He turned her air back on again. Grabbing the regulator out of her mouth, he held it away and pressed the purge button, pushed something into the end of it, then let it go. It continued to bubble furiously as it floated down, the purge button held in, emptying her scuba tank. He then slid himself out of her and watched a trail of white cum float away from the end of his cock.
He cupped some of it and watched it swirl in his hand.
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Still with his shorts down, the man turned and looked straight at Imogen then pushed off the bottom, finning over to her. She felt numb. She’d tried to release herself to help her sister but all she could see was little trails of blood from the ankles where the metal had just cut into her. She couldn’t help watch his softening cock bounce between his legs as he purposefully approached her. She looked down her body as he came to rest kneeling over her and she saw his hand being placed on the rack.
He looked into her mask and smiled. Imogen’s expression changed to confusion then one of an appeal to his better nature.
The man looked away and appeared to try to push the racking upwards. He grunted into his regulator and Imogen saw his muscles bulge with the effort.
She felt excited. He was going to rescue her! She looked at his cock, still hard and bobbling around and thought that she’d have to repay him generously if he got her out of her predicament.
The man then turned to her and his face was that of dominance and malevolence. Then he grinned.
Imogen reached out to grab his cock and clasped her fingers around it. It had softened but she tugged it, then slid her hand up and down it. She looked back to his mask and feigned a look of desire. The man looked back, amused. Imogen smiled at him in return.
Still stroking his shaft, Imogen watched as the man put both hands on the racking and dug his knees into the deck, readying himself to push.
Imogen willed him success in moving it but then shook her head in surprise when, instead of pushing the racking up, his fingers grabbed at it and he pulled it downwards. The metal groaned and clamped her legs just a little harder. She saw him turn towards her and look into her mask; he looked pleased with himself and she felt rage at being deceived. She became more incensed when she felt his cock stiffen a little as watched her anger rising and she let go of it, squealing for help and reaching her hands up to the racking to push at it herself. She squirmed her body, trying to get some purchase, her muscles rippling under her skin, but she was not strong enough to release her legs.
The man watched her struggling and grinned around his mouthpiece. Her head was pointing away from him as she pushed hard against the racking again and he watched her lips from side on pursing around her regulator mouthpiece as she grunted into it, every sinew in her body trying to move the metal that pinned her.
As her regulator exhaust burst with frantic bubbling from her exertions, the man reached down beside her and lifted up her air contents gauge and leaned over her body to bring it in front of her mask. As he rotated it so that they could both see it, he saw that the pointer on the gauge was now well into the red reserve sector. She had just minutes of air left.
He watched as Imogen flung her head around to look at him, her eyes wide with panic. She spoke into her regulator, a series of frantic ‘mmmmms’ which seemed to amount to helping her and to not leave her there.
He just smiled back.
The man surveyed her body and wished he had more time for her but he guessed that his own air was running low, even with his twin tanks, and he didn’t want to contemplate a difficult ascent from the wreck this close to the end of a successful job. She saw his desire and placed her hand around his cock again and released a muffled “help” into her regulator then smiled at him.
The man turned to her, casually dropped her contents gauge then saluted with two fingers before pushing off back towards Ariel.
Imogen screamed and began to squirm.
Taking hold of Ariel’s legs, the man gently refitted her fins and dragged her body just out of reach of Imogen who was now clawing at the metal of the floor to reach him. Ariel’s regulator had stopped flowing as her scuba tank was empty so the man removed the clip he had shoved into the purge valve and then he rolled her over and slid his knife between her wrists, cutting the cable tie. Her arms floated free again. Pushing her away, gently, he watched as her body slid through the water, elegant and motionless. Her arms and legs were outstretched and her air hose curled downwards from her tank valve with her dead regulator just touching the deck.
Immediately, the man finned towards the hatch in the hull. When he reached it, he held onto the doorway with one hand and quickly looked back over his shoulder to Imogen who was still clawing at the deck in desperation.
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Imogen closed her eyes briefly. It felt like it was getting harder to breathe but maybe she was just imagining it. She grabbed her air contents gauge again and saw the pointer almost on the end stop – completely empty. She shook it, willing the pointer to show more air available, then banged it on the deck and checked it again, frantically.
She moaned a feeble “mmmmmelp” into her regulator when the pointer stubbornly failed to respond to her efforts.
When she looked up from the dial of the gauge again, the hatchway was empty and the man had gone.
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The investigation into the “tragic events” that befell Imogen and Ariel was handled mostly by the pharmaceutical company’s internal security and the local police although the latter were easy enough to buy off, as were the crew of the company yacht.
The local newspapers were paid to report that the sisters were intensely jealous of each other and that one of them had taunted the other with photographs of an affair with the other’s partner left at an undisclosed dive site. An underwater quarrel inside a dangerous boat wreck, resulting in both of their deaths had occurred, both of the women unfortunately running out of air in the altercation, probably due to their lack of wreck diving experience and because neither had a safety line or torch.
The man finished reading the front page article about the incident as he sat sipping a beer on the harbour side. He looked at a PR photo of the two sisters, taken at some glitzy event, which accompanied the text. Both looked stunning in their skimpy dresses and they looked full of life.
The waiter came over and saw the newspaper, shaking his head and commented what a terrible waste it was.
The man agreed with a wry smile, but replied that you never know what goes on behind closed doors.
He finished his beer, dropped a considerable tip on the table and strolled away towards his two-seater sports car, feeling his cock harden with each step.
“Or behind closed bulkheads,” he said to himself and smiled.
written by guest author Pinglis
February 9, 2016 Update
What to share – what to share? What do they want to hear about? Probably want to know more about the next big story coming off my keyboard.
Well, there was that Mademoiselle story I posted recently… that was new. It was requested by a friend and I had the inspiration to work on it. I guess it turned out ok – Nazis, strangling and drowning.
What else could I tell them? I could say I’m getting over a cold – BOR-RING! It’s always a challenge sneaking through the winter months without getting a cold or the flu. I suppose the bigger news would be NOT getting a cold or flu. Everyone else has either struggled with one or is struggling not to get one. Better try again…
I suppose I could tell them I saw the doctor today. He told me all my numbers were good. He even said my kidneys were so improved that he no longer felt I had a chronic kidney disease. He was impressed with those numbers, so I guess my kidneys are better. Good to know… I guess it means I’m normal if I wake up now and then in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.
BOR-RING. It’s always “How’s the weather; how’s the health?” Then afterwards they are probably mumbling something to themselves like… “Let’s talk again… like next year maybe… when you can come up with something more interesting?” Definitely need to think of something else…
How were the holidays? At least I didn’t spend myself into the poor house… always a temptation. The lights downtown were nice… weather was cold… the night light parade was cold and about 20 minutes too long, but I took a ton of pics for mom to see… although a bunch of them came out blurry. What did I expect at night in below-freezing weather? Ah, but we’re back on that weather thing; that will bore them. Enough with the holidays. So what else can I tell them?
I could tell them I’m having a birthday soon – now THAT’S a novel idea! EVERYBODY is having a birthday this year! How unique.
This year the DMV is letting me mail in my driver’s license renewal. I wonder if that old picture is any good…
Well then… what do I really want them to know? What should I tell them? After all, it’s been three months.
How about if I say I’ve tweaked the library a bit… that I’m trying to include some new authors I come across… give them a variety of material to read. Yeah, that might work.
What else? This is a blog post; you’re a writer… so WRITE something! Well, I’ve got ideas brewing in the back of my head. One is a crazy idea about the Joker hanging some college coeds because he’s furthering his skills as a fully functioning homicidal artist. I might keep chewing on that one for a while.
C’mon; you can do better than that. What would you really want to tell them?
Honestly? I’d want to tell them this library probably wouldn’t exist without them. They’re interested in my work and the work of some of the other writers I’ve featured here. That gives me a good feeling… makes me feel appreciated. It makes me feel I have something to contribute… even if it is nothing more than a short story here or there… or maybe an entertaining idea to consider.
So yeah. I would thank them again for coming and reading the stories that are posted here. I would tell them it means a lot to know people are interested in my work as well as the other stories I’ve shared here from guest authors. It makes me work that much harder on proofreading so they have a good, clean story to read without stumbling over misspelled words and sentence fragments.
And I would especially thank those who have made purchases at my store. That really means a lot to know I’ve written something someone is willing to pay a few coins to enjoy just to help me out with everyday expenses (like my doctor’s visit today). And I would thank those who have made donations. Every little bit helps. And with gas being down I should be able to drive up to see mom this year… maybe even a couple of times.
Ok, I’ll go with that. My throat is not so sore now and the fatigue is mostly gone. But I’d better get working on this blog article and get it posted or it’s going to be May.
I suppose I should also get to work on my procrastination… but I think I’m going to put that off ‘til next week…
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Ana Lucia : Critical Mass
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Ana Lucia : Critical Mass
(c) Pinglis, 2016. Not to be reproduced without permission.
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Notes to the reader.
Anyone who has experience of being underwater wearing a mask knows that the peripheral vision of the wearer is severely limited. In other words, a diver can only really see what is directly in front of them at any one time.
This story is written with ‘omniscient viewpoints’ – that is, the story may be told from the perspective of the different characters (or narrator) all within a short space. This is not a usual practice for short stories as it can be confusing. However, for the believability of describing what a diver may see underwater, especially when stressed in a perilous situation, it is used here.
Otherwise, this story is unashamedly based upon a few things.
Firstly, a certain Lost character played by a certain female who I would put into the top 3 most eligible scuba girls imaginable. Why? She’s tough but sometimes vulnerable, ruthless, resourceful with guile and strength. Deadly attributes when required yet an interesting handful otherwise. Plus, she’d look so very good in any gear that she chose to wear. See if you can guess who she is. (Compare how you picture her with how I do – an image is at the end of the story for those who get through it all).
Secondly, it has its roots in a certain James Bond film.
No doubt Ana Lucia will feature again in other stories.
Contains scuba, scuba fighting, forced scuba drowning (not graphic), scuba erotica.
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The aircraft descended gradually and slowed to just above it’s stall speed, for which the pilot had deployed full flap. They were now fully occupied trying to keep the nose up so the belly landing would cause the least amount of damage to the airframe. Just metres below now, the calm surface of the sea scattered only faint moonlight. Conditions were almost perfect.
The device taped to the upper part of the cockpit panel was programmed to emit different tones to audibly guide the pilot to the landing location. It now produced a steady tone which meant it was within two miles of its final destination.
The pilot, clearly a woman despite the oxygen mask that covered the lower part of her face, throttled back and watched as the altimeter needle fell to zero. She braced for impact.
Her aircraft hit the water with less force than she expected. She used the rudder controls to try to keep it in a straight line but it was largely pointless as sea water was spraying across the cockpit glass and the night time visibility was almost nil. The plane skidded left and right but her skill prevented a wing tip dipping into the sea which could have flipped them over and, eventually, the aircraft came to a rest in the slight swell.
She looked down to her right – and pulled the undercarriage lever. She heard a gurgling as the undercarriage doors opened, then the whirr of the wheels being lowered. The plane dipped lower into the water as water filled the space where the wheels were now lowering from and it began to sink lower into the water. She removed her helmet and slipped on the goggles she had shoved down the side of her seat at the start of her flight.
Still covering her nose and mouth was the rubber cone of the aircraft’s own air supply and a corrugated hose connected it to a port on the cockpit panel down to her left. She tapped the dial on the cockpit indicating how much air she had left and she just had managed to see it reporting OK when the cockpit lights fused and went out. Sea water started to gurgle up around her legs and she felt afraid and claustrophobic, just like in the drills she had been through.
Her pulse raced and she breathed nervously, as she pushed the mask against her face hoping that the seal would remain good under the water.
Seconds later, just as the water bubbled up around her face, she remembered that she still had the helmet on so she quickly took it off and pushed it behind her seat. She watched as the sea lapped over the cockpit glass all around her and she crossed her fingers for luck.
The aircraft slipped beneath the sea and stayed upright on its descent to the sandy bottom just a few metres below. The woman in the pilot’s seat was in her 30s with an attractive face, shortish jet black hair and green eyes. She breathed heavily, not wanting to be strapped into the seat but she would not be there for long just as long as they turned up on time.
Eventually, the plane groaned as it settled on the bottom and she waited, turning her head left, right and upwards for some kind of indication.
Then, she was bathed in light, just for a split second. She craned her head around to look behind her. Another flash.
She looked ahead, out of the cockpit glass and saw multiple flickering faint lights and she closed her eyes. She thought that the light had blinded her and she was seeing stars.
She felt alone and a little afraid.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The lead diver finned hard towards where the aircraft should lie. The plane had almost passed directly over their inflatable boat, right on schedule but not quite on target. She was a little annoyed but it was a dark night and she knew that she would not have been able to do any better herself. The main reason for her annoyance was the change to the agreement at such a late stage. Still, she had some last second orders relating to the problem that she would enjoy carrying out.
Bubbles streamed from the regulator mounted on top of her twin tanks, just behind her head, which fed the twin corrugated rubber hoses connected to her mouthpiece. Her body was entirely encased in a smooth, black wetsuit and she had jet fins on her feet. She felt very confined in the suit, and it always felt erotic to her, no matter how often she wore one. Around her slender waist were a handful of lead weights on a belt with a stainless steel quick release clasp. On her upper arm and thigh were large dive knives. She wore a black oval mask. Strapped to her scuba tank harness was a black rubber flashlight. She lifted it up, pushed it out in front of her and turned it on.
She breathed quickly from the exertion and looked behind her. She could see the recovery team follow her lead and their flashlights illuminate all at different times. Six flashlights in all.
The light beams from the flashlights waggled as the divers holding them finned to keep up. Her brown eyes scanned ahead of her and her lips partially snarled around her mouthpiece. Relative to the other divers, she was quite short, but clearly had all the required leadership skills and the other members of the team followed her instructions without question. All but one, but the lead diver had her suspicions already. She was a good judge of character and she doubted that she was wrong on this occasion.
She scanned in front of her looking for the strobe that the aircraft had been fitted with. It activated at a particular depth and it should have been on by now…”It had better work,” she thought, just as an arc of light illuminated her from dead ahead. Then darkness. Then light..
“That’s the strobe,” she thought and adjusted her course left, and down, to rendezvous with it.
Her team followed.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The pilot was getting nervous. The strobe light was spooking her and it was so bright that she couldn’t adjust to the darkness properly to see the air gauge on the cockpit any more and it occurred to her that no one would come before her air ran out. She panicked and her hand grasped the cockpit emergency release lever. No, they had to recover the payload tonight as it could be seen from the air in the daylight and it would be found too easily.
Her hand relaxed on the lever and she brought it over her mask, instead, holding it to her face, and sucked on the air it gave.
She breathed deeply, picturing her dive buddy Claire’s face in front of her, and thought of the first time she had buddy breathed with Claire – she was the one who had calmed her when she had panicked on her first open water dive. They’d met when the base she was stationed at had opened up their pool for scuba lessons and Claire had sometimes come to cover for another instructor if they could not attend. She always looked forward to Claire coming and as their friendship grew, she covered more often until she came all the time.
Her breathing returned to normal as she relaxed and thought of the times that they had spent together. Underwater, out of water and in bed.
She wished she was here with her now.
Just then, another pulse of light caused her pupils to contract behind her goggles. Then she saw some different dots of light ahead; these were moving around in an irregular pattern. One distinct one followed by several others, less so.
Her heart pounded. They were here at last.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The lead diver arrived at the nose of the plane and held her hand out to the metalwork, skimming her body across it as she finned towards the cockpit. The glass was still in place so she looked over the side of the cockpit for the external release lever. She shone her flashlight along the side of the fuselage and was just about to pull the lever when a loud crack, followed by bubbling filled her ears. Instinctively, she reached for her knife and looked around but then noticed the cockpit canopy was no longer in place – it had already floated away in a cloud of compressed gas escaping.
The pilot must have released it.
She finned up to the edge of the back of the cockpit and turned the strobe off. Then, she swam over the top of the cockpit, looking down. The pilot’s head was swinging left and right, her mask was intact on her face. She saw the hose connecting the mask to the cockpit but looked beyond, onto the cockpit floor. When she couldn’t see the object straight away, she finned down the fuselage, along towards the nose then back up again, grabbing onto the cockpit rim as she pulled herself up.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The pilot watched as the canopy floated upwards and to one side then became nervous when she saw no one outside. She swung her head around then saw the diver’s head appear over the side of the fuselage. The diver shone their flashlight into her face at first, blinding her and she covered her eyes. Then the light was placed onto the upper cockpit so she looked again. In front of her was the woman she had met just once, at the final briefing.
She looked mostly Latin and a little Asian, brown eyes and black eyebrows, narrowed with concentration, framed perfectly by her oval black mask. The pilot remembered her name as Ana-Lucia – or that’s what name she gave, at least. The diver smiled around her mouthpiece and gave an OK signal. The pilot gave a ‘not sure’ signal back and the diver nodded to her and then beckoned her to come out of the cockpit whilst pointing to her seat harness quick release buckle just above her crotch.
The pilot pushed her thumb on the release button but it did not move. She looked down, confused, and pushed it again. Stuck. She sucked hard into the rubber cone covering her face and pushed her thumbs into the button with all her might but it did not give. She grabbed her shoulder harness and tugged it hard as she pushed the button in, craning her head around with the effort, stretching the rubber hose from the cockpit to her mask.
She did not see the diver eyeing the hose or that her eyes narrowed at the sight of it.
Just then, another female diver appeared, clad in the same type of wetsuit and gear, and the two scuba divers communicated briefly, Anna-Lucia pointing a little frantically towards the back of the aircraft. The other diver had only briefly looked at the pilot struggling to release her harness then looked back to Ana. She nodded and disappeared towards the back of the aircraft.
Ana looked back to the pilot who had now raised her hands, and spoke into her mask, a muffled “Come on, what are fucking waiting for?! Help me!”
The pilot saw the diver remove their knife and hold it upwards. The pilot’s eyes widened but the diver pointed to her harness and she relaxed. The diver reached over the edge of the cockpit, her legs folded up behind her, body almost horizontal and brought her knife towards the pilot’s harness. The diver’s air hose was almost touching her face and it wobbled as Ana breathed through it, bubbles bursting in slow but regular patterns from the disc behind her head.
The pilot looked down and saw one of Ana’s hands on her harness and the other bringing the knife blade towards the thick fabric of the belt. The serrated edge of the knife started to saw against the fabric, cutting it very slowly.
The pilot relaxed and put her hands down to her sides to allow Ana to work on her belt. She relaxed a little and thought of being on the surface again.
Suddenly, without warning, she watched Ana’s hands let go of her harness and grab the corrugated air hose feeding her mask. Ana squeezed it flat in her fist and the pilot felt her breathing become more difficult immediately. The pilot watched as the attacking diver now stretched it so it became taut and then she brought the knife towards it. The pilot sensed the danger and lashed out with one hand, grabbing the divers arm and tried to force it away from her hose but the diver held it firmly. Ana’s eyebrows narrowed behind her mask as she deftly kept the knife blade clear of the pilot’s clawing hand then swiftly brought the knife edge to the rubber. The pilot screamed as she watched her air hose stretched with the pressure from the blade, the rubber resisting at first then giving in to the super sharp blade. Bubbles fizzed from the gash in the hose initially, then a plume of very large bubbles streamed from the completely severed end.
The pilots’ mask filled with water almost immediately and she grabbed at the Ana’s air source, trying to pull at her mouthpiece but she was too quick. She had already retreated back and was watching just out of the reach of the pilot’s flailing hands. Ana calmly replaced her knife, without even looking at it – her eyes on the pilot struggling in the beam of her flashlight. She was smiling and her expression had changed to something feline. Almost cruel. But contented.
Ana Lucia had felt the warmth come to between her legs as the knife had slit the pilot’s air hose in two. She’d especially enjoyed feeling the pilot claw at her air source as she was pulling herself back out of the cockpit and she half hoped that she had been more successful in grabbing it as she enjoyed a challenge.
She watched, wanting to touch herself, as the woman pilot – Gemma, she recalled her name to be – first grasped out to her, then looked down and started to foolishly try to push the two halves of her severed hose together again.
Ana thought Gemma looked quite hot even in her oversized flight suit. Her short black hair waved back and force in the beam of the light and the sight of the remaining half of the hose still attached to her mask was causing her nipples to harden against the tight neoprene that encased them. She shook her head at Gemma’s optimistic attempt to reconnect the hose but the pilot was entirely preoccupied, frantically trying to push the rubber tubes together.
She watched as Gemma then changed to banging her palm onto the quick release and grabbed at her harness straps, forcing her body upwards from her legs, but they did not budge. Ana Lucia counted the time passing by the hiss and bubbling from her own breathing, waiting for the pilot to weaken and drown but she was surprised how long she lasted, even in her panic.
Gemma’s body writhed and muffled shouts and grunts came from her flooded rubber mask as she grabbed at the harness straps again, pulling them in all directions. Ana continued to watch, calmly. The pilot grabbed the end of her hose and looked into it then dropped it and turned to Ana, her arms reaching out and eyes pleading.
Gemma wished that Claire would appear, her eye contact there to soothe her, just like before.
Ana breathed in and out quickly, now a little excited again, but did not move. She was thinking of the share of money she would take from the job and how she was going to treat her clit to some special treatment from her fingers when it was all over.
Gemma’s head flew back her seat and she convulsed several times before her arms fell to her sides, the breath she no longer held streaming from the end of the cut hose still attached to her mask.
Ana waited for a few seconds, until she was sure the pilot was no longer a threat.
“That’s Gemma’s cut dealt with,” she thought, then shook her head at herself.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
From an early age, her mother had always thought that there was something unusual about Ana Lucia – she was just not like the other children, especially the other girls. She liked to hang around with the older boys, especially if they were out on a panga, fishing or diving, and she was quite adept at looking after herself, especially if the other girls teased her about her being a tomboy. At the age of 10, a girl who had been trying to bully her had ended up with a fractured jaw and she was not teased any more.
Despite her mother’s reservations, her grandmother had always seen a real talent in Ana Lucia and nurtured it. She could see that she was a rare girl – one destined not just to end up with a baby, father disappeared, at the age of twenty like many of her peers. No, she had greater things destined for her, as her grandmother frequently reminded her, but she didn’t know it yet.
For Ana Lucia, as she blossomed into a young woman and became part of a group of locals involved in smuggling contraband, usually by sea, she often found herself in situations that she had to deal with on the spur of the moment and she did what was necessary, even if it involved taking life but she did not do it without reason.
One way she reconciled this was with her trademark gallows humour, something even the young men who saw the results of her actions sometimes found unpalatable.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Now, Ana cleared her mask and looked back at Gemma, motionless, this time with a small amount of remorse. She finned upwards and over the edge of the fuselage and then down, between Gemma’s legs. It was a tight fit and her body felt jammed as she felt around for the item she was looking for. A thought passed through her mind – about Gemma coming to, and finding the diver who had cut her hose between her legs, vulnerable, and being able to grab at her own hoses. Just then her hand touched the box she had seen from above earlier and she pulled it towards her mask.
She eyed it. It was long and relatively small and she watched as the number sequences illuminated on its glowing red display.
She pushed back against the cockpit floor, forcing her body up out out of the cockpit, past the dead pilot. As she righted herself, she unzipped her wetsuit top and stuffed the box inside.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Ana Lucia then picked up her flashlight and swung it down the fuselage and across the wing. She was a little surprised to see that one of the team was holding onto the aileron at the edge of the wing, watching her intently. As she shone the beam of the flashlight into the woman’s mask, the woman looked down quickly then pushed herself underneath the wing back to where she was supposed to be working. Ana Lucia grinned, then finned down the fuselage, then over the top of the plane to the opposite wing to where she could see bubbles rising. She grasped the edge of the wing and looked underneath, her body inverted, and she saw three divers there, working on the weapon fixed to one of the aircraft’s hard point.
She immediately recognized the weapon as the Paveway laser guided bomb but the warhead was more bulbous than normal and matched the photos she had been shown of it during the briefings exactly. One of the divers was carefully removing the warhead and the other two held a sling underneath.
They had been told it was an experimental version, containing a new type of explosive but Ana Lucia knew the real story and so would the women working on it, if they had a Geiger counter handy.
She finned towards the divers and joined them. They all turned to look at her as she tapped her watch and they all nodded, then the one removing the warhead resumed working, at seemingly increased pace.
Turning her body, she finned over towards the other wing, under the belly of the aircraft. Her air bubbles rose and hit the underside of the aircraft then ran almost horizontally along it, before escaping to the surface above. Three divers worked on this side, also, but they had finished their ask and the warhead was already in the sling. Ana Lucia joined them and gave all of them the OK signal. She lingered longest looking into the eyes of the woman who had been watching her from the edge of the wing. Ana Lucia recalled her name – Claire – probably the most experienced of the crew assembled for this task and the last one to be recruited. She was also the most attractive – long strawberry blonde hair under her hood, cool grey-blue eyes behind her jet black rubber mask and a sublime athletic body, the lines of which were enhanced by the enveloping full wetsuit cladding her perfectly. The diver only intermittently made eye contact, which Ana Lucia ignored skilfully.
Ana Lucia checked the compass on her wrist and stretched her flat hand out in the direction they needed to take the sling, then motioned to the three divers to move the item quickly. They all nodded in unison, pushing their bodies horizontal as two carried the sling between them. Claire finned slightly above and behind, like a world war 2 fighter plane escorting the bomber formation below and Ana Lucia quickly darted underneath the fuselage, watching them go. She was not surprised to see Claire’s finning gradually slow to nothing, allowing her to drop behind completely.
She watched as Claire swiveled her head around and pretended to fumble for something around her waist, an easy recognizable ruse to allow her to check whether see was being observed. Claire had obviously not seen Ana as she finned again, out of sight, but clearly towards the open cockpit.
Ana Lucia quickly checked under the other wing and the three divers had also gone, so both of the items she was sent with her team to retrieve were already on their way back to the rendezvous. Phase 2 was complete.
Now, she just needed to take care of her bonus and get to the rendezvous point herself. She reached down to her thigh and took her knife out of it’s sheath, then held her breath and slowly palmed her way up the side of the fuselage, towards where she assumed Claire would be, and took up a position where she could not easily be seen.
Claire had reached the cockpit and shone her flashlight inside. She had hoped that Ana Lucia had just left her Gemma to run her air down but her heart sank at the sight that greeted her. With rage rising inside her, she grabbed the severed hose attached to her partner’s mask and ran her thumb over it and let out an angry sigh, causing a lengthy plume of bubbles to erupt from the regulator behind her hooded head. ‘That fucking bitch,’ she thought, as she bit down hard onto her rubber mouthpiece and slight tears welled in her eyes. ‘Oh Gemma, that fucking bitch, Ana Lucia…I;m sorry, she said into her mouthpiece softly.
She reached forwards and pulled the goggles from Gemma’s face then closed her panic-filled eyes with her fingertips. Composing herself, she unzipped her wetsuit top and reached inside, grabbing a thin cylinder which she had secreted between her breasts. She held it in front of her – it was about 8 inches long and an inch and a half in diameter. She looked upwards and held the cylinder away from her body, then pulled a cord on the bottom. Bright light lit up her body, reflecting on the glass of her mask, before the source of the light rocketed up vertically leaving a trail of bubbles behind.
She watched as it reached the surface, then broke it, and then zoomed out of view, bringing semi-darkness to her world again. Then, there was a flash from above and a bright light again. Above her, above the surface of the sea, floated down a flare and the beacon which now transmitted their location.
Ana Lucia gasped into her mouthpiece at the sight of the beacon being launched and quickly slid into the shadows then watched as Claire lurched forward into the cockpit, her legs finning slightly to push her body down. Ana Lucia pulled herself up the fuselage quickly, to bring herself alongside the edge of the cockpit.
Ana Lucia’s mask was now right next to Claire’s gyrating crotch, her legs twisting above her and the rest of her body pointing vertically downwards between Gemma’s legs; her twin tanks clanged against the cockpit instrument panel and her air hoses wobbled within the confined space below. She was obviously searching for something but it couldn’t be the box she had wedged inside her own wetsuit top, surely? Bubbles burst from within the cockpit and she could hear Claire grunting as she appeared to be struggling to move a panel recessed into the aircraft cockpit floor.
Ana Lucia looked up at the flare, which still floated downwards and bathed her in light – she hadn’t got a lot of time before whoever Claire had alerted showed up – but decided quickly that she’d let her finish whatever she was trying to do before striking. After all, the aircraft could be booby trapped and she didn’t want to take any risks in that regard. Moments later, she moved back as Claire stared to extricate herself from the cockpit and Ana Lucia made sure that she stayed behind and below Claire as she brought herself vertical again.
Clare held the box in her hands and rotated it, smiling around her mouthpiece. Ana Lucia’s would look identical to this but it would be useless as it did not have the decryption device inside and when her paymasters found out, she would be fish food – literally. She tenderly put her hand on Gemma’s cheek before shoving the box into her own wetsuit which she had unzipped slightly.
Ana watched, amused by the similarity of their visits to the cockpit.
Claire looked around, tentatively, then recoiled back when she saw the diver behind her. A surprised “mmmnnn???” sound echoed in her air hoses as Ana Lucia held out her hand to accept the box from Claire whilst brandishing her knife in other hand, ready to strike if she did not comply.
Claire thought quickly, then nodded to Ana and started to reach into her wetsuit, the diver opposite her watching her very carefully. Claire looked down, into her unzipped suit where she could see her breasts squashed inside, the box between them, and she continued to fumble for the object then took a big intake of air and launched forward into Ana Lucia who was caught off guard, a little surprised by the immediate attack.
Both women tried to get the upper hand quickly, a mixture of grunts and ‘nnnnnnn’ noises emitted from each of them as they grappled, rolling over and over, legs entwining and hands frantically grabbing for wrists, air sources or masks.
Ana Lucia swept her knife around defensively as they struggled, nicking Claire’s thigh after slicing the neoprene open and exposing her upper leg, and causing a thin trail of blood to seep from inside. Claire yelped in response, not knowing if the cut was superficial, and grabbed Ana Lucia’s wrist, digging her thumb into it sharply. She heard Ana Lucia squeal into her mouthpiece so repeated the action, this time harder. Each time she dug her thumb in, she twisted the wrist but Ana wasn’t letting go of her knife easily. Claire’s muscles started to burn as the lactic acid built up inside them as she tried to overcome her enemy and she started to worry that she didn’t have the stamina to take on her opponent.
Ana Lucia was surprised. And, surprised at being surprised as she’d been in a lot of fights but she hadn’t encountered a woman as strong as Claire for a very long time. Her muscles were beginning to ache, (‘Were Claire’s, too?’ she thought) and her wrist was very sore and wouldn’t take much more being twisted or damaged. She tried to focus her mind away from it and onto where she needed to put her hand to grab Claire’s air hoses which seemed to continually evade her grasp. She’d felt something rubbery slip past her fingertips a few times but could never quite get a purchase on it and it did not help that she was a little disorientated from all the rolling and grappling.
For both divers, the intermittent light from the flare above was the main problem. Just as a shard of light refracted by the surface highlighted something to grab, it would be plunged into darkness again and, when their hand reached where they had seen the item of interest last, it wasn’t there any more.
Just like the aching in their muscles, frustration started to build, also.
Both women were also struggling with their air sources. The old gear that they had been provided with had been maintained to a military standard but it could not offset the fact that it simply did not deliver air like the regulators that they were used to. This fatigued the women further as they struggled to remain oxygenated.
As they rolled again, bubbles erupting from her regulator her head, Ana Lucia felt Claire’s palm bump against her mask, dislodging it slightly, but not enough that she could no longer see. As they rolled and grappled, the water in her mask sloshed around, into her eyes, and it was beginning to be a distraction.
Ana decided that she needed to do something underhand to recover the situation.
Claire dug her thumb into Ana Lucia’s wrist again and shook her arm, willing the knife out of it but it was held fast. Her other hand was in a constant battle to deflect Ana Lucia’s other hand from reaching her and so far she’d been successful so it was now down to stamina and who could retain their strength for the longest. She’d noticed that her opponent was more sluggish – perhaps she was weakening – although she was now tiring herself and getting a little dizzy from the exertion and a failure of her regulator to deliver all the air her body demanded. Wrapping her legs around those of Ana Lucia, to try to stop her stabbing at them again, she made one last push.
Ana Lucia felt her wrist twisted and her other arm grabbed, just around her forearm. Her body was pushed downwards as Claire rolled them both around so she was on top. Her legs felt pinned and she sucked hard on her mouthpiece as she knew she might not have it for much longer. Even at this time, she felt a tingling between her legs – an itch that needed scratching if she got out of this one alive. She looked into the mask of her opponent and the cool grey-blue eyes, full of concentration, fixed upon hers. She struggled but deliberately weakly, inviting Claire to release her grip and go for her mask or air source.
Claire thought that she had finally got the upper hand – she could see it in Ana Lucia’s eyes. She saw a hint of fear there – just as she’d seen it in the eyes of others that she’d eventually provided a watery grave for. She decided that it was time to finish this bitch off.
Digging into her final reserves of strength, she dug her thumb hard into Ana’s wrist and twisted it hard, causing Ana to yelp with pain. She then pulled her wrist backwards, forcefully. The knife came loose and she grabbed it. Ana Lucia flailed for a moment as the knife swung near to her mask, nicking her inlet hose and releasing a fizz then of bubbles. Claire raised the knife above her, ready to strike the final blow.
Ana’s plan was not quite running as smoothly as expected; she sucked on her mouthpiece and felt relieved that it was still giving air but she thought she could hear her hose hissing and guessed it was damaged. But, Claire now thought she had the upper hand in the fight, which had been Ana’s ruse as misplaced confidence can often bring downfall.
As she saw Claire raise the knife, she readied herself for the attack. Quickly, she grabbed Claire’s wrist, leaving her knife hand free to strike, then executed her move.
Claire, in her confidence, thought she had enough time to decide where to attack and largely disregarded Ana grabbing her wrist. But, Ana then folded Claire’s wrist back with such force that she thought it was going to break. Claire squealed with agony and released the grip of her legs around Ana. Quickly, Ana pulled Claire’s knife arm towards her with both hands, keeping the blade clear of her and swung her body around so that Claire’s back was now to her. Then, she grabbed her tanks between her knees and wrapped her legs around her body so her feet crossed over her crotch.
Acute pain flowed from Claire’s wrist. She never imagined that Ana would have the strength to hurt it like that – she had been weakening for some time. Confusion filled her mind and now she realized that Ana had moved behind her. She looked down and saw Ana’s wetsuit-covered legs crossing her crotch and she started to writhe, hoping to dislodge the diver behind her.
Claire swung the knife downwards, towards the thighs that gripped her but Ana pulled her arm as she swung it, causing her to miss Ana’s leg and stab her own. The tip of the knife pierced the wetsuit and cut into her flesh, causing her to shout into her mouthpiece and twist her head wildly with the pain. Quickly, Ana pulled Claire’s arm upwards, and the knife dragged up her thigh, slicing her wetsuit open up to her pelvis but only superficially cutting into her skin.
Ana Lucia sucked on her mouthpiece and got the start of a mouthful of water so stopped breathing in and attempted to hold her breath. She couldn’t possibly see that the nick in the air hose that ran at the side of her head had expanded to a tear, rendering it largely useless as water had partially filled the rubber tubing. She had dealt with situations like this before and attempted to stay calm despite desperately wanting to take air.
She had to act fast now as Claire was still breathing, exhibited by the short hisses of air followed by bubbles exhausting from the regulator on top of Claire’s scuba tanks right in front of Ana’s face. Ana brought her other forearm across Claire’s throat and squeezed hard, then felt as both hands reached up and grabbed at it to release her grip.
Feeling both Claire’s hands on her arm, she knew that she must have dropped the knife so she used her other hand to pull her arm that crossed Claire’s throat even tighter, into a ‘blood choke’; this stopped blood flowing to and from her brain, despite her being able to breathe.
Claire had obviously now realized the significance of the grip on her neck as Ana felt the woman in front of her now frantically kick her legs out and downwards, like a frog, and try to twist her body and neck so that the hold could be compromised but Ana wasn’t as weak as she had feigned to Claire and maintained her arm in just the right place for maximum effect.
It wasn’t long before Claire started to weaken from hypoxia in her brain which was just as well for Ana as her own lungs were burning with air hunger.
She wanted to wait for Claire to weaken further than she already had, or pass out completely, but Ana knew that she had to breathe soon. All the exertion meant her body was hungry for oxygen and she knew she had just seconds before she would be in trouble.
Rolling her eyes with the urge to breathe, Ana Lucia quickly released her hand which held her forearm tight across the woman’s throat and reached around to Claire’s face and grasped her air hose firmly, right next to her mouthpiece. She tugged hard but it didn’t come free and she felt her own stomach convulse with desperation. Claire’s senses were dulled but she managed a weak “Noooooooo” in her mouthpiece as she started to come around, some blood now making it past Ana’s choke hold.
Ana Lucia pulled the hose again, this time as hard as she could, and felt the rubber mouthpiece tear free of her opponent’s lips and begin bubbling. She skilfully brought it to her own face, spat out her own useless mouthpiece and cleared the twin hose before clamping her teeth down on it and inhaling.
Nothing, to Ana, felt sweeter than breathing from your struggling opponent’s own air source especially when it was the only one left.
Claire blinked behind her mask – not quite believing her situation but knowing it was dire. She had expected the weakened Ana Lucia to bolt for the surface when her air hose was cut but, instead, she’d attacked with unexpected strength and ferocity and caught her completely off guard. She’d panicked when her opponent had got her in the choke hold, knowing that she would pass out quickly, but nowhere near as much as when she felt Ana’s hand gripping her hose just next to her mouthpiece moments later.
She had inhaled deeply and tried hard to clamp her teeth down on the mouthpiece but she was disorientated by the dim light and dizzy from Ana’s hold on her throat and had felt her air source torn from her lips. She released a long stream of bubbles from her mouth as she squealed for help, her arms reaching over her own shoulders trying to grab her air source back but she knew it would not be given up easily and she had pretty much lost the fight. And probably her life.
Weakening further, she twisted her body but she could not shake Ana Lucia who had clamped herself, like a limpet, to her tanks. Instinctively, her palm closed over her weight belt buckle and she released it, then kicked her burning legs weakly to try to reach the surface above.
Ana Lucia reached around to Claire’s face and pulled her mask away to break the seal then upwards, allowing the strap around her hooded head to slide off the neoprene it had been gripping. She released it behind her then looked up and mentally calculated the chance that Claire would reach the surface given the exertions from their fight, her injuries and when she last was able to breathe.
‘I wouldn’t put any money on you managing it, Claire’ she thought to herself.
Underwater fighting was often a waiting game, so she breathed from Claire’s air source and let time deal with her opponent.
Claire reached her arms out towards the surface. The urge to breathe was too great and air spilled from her lips. She brought her hand to her mouth, covering it, knowing that the dead weight on her back was going to stop her reaching the sweet air above the surface. As she got closer, she felt faint and thought of all the good times that she had shared with Gemma. In bed, out of bed and underwater. Gemma knew what buttons to push – she always had – and they had shared experiences together that made her wet just by thinking about them.
Now she was about to join her, all thanks to the same ‘fucking bitch.’
She blinked into the salt water as she urge to breathe overcame her and her hands clawed feebly in front of her as water filled her body.
Ana Lucia felt Claire stop kicking and then the release of air followed by some convulsions. She had no time to lose so flipped herself forward to face Claire, whose eyes and mouth were wide open, a few bubbles streaming from her lips, still. A little life in the eyes, but fading quickly, she thought. Quickly, she released her own scuba harness and ditched her tanks, then removed Claire’s harness from her body and slid her arms into it, jiggling it onto her back, before closing the waist clasp firmly. She grabbed Claire’s upper arm and pulled her close, reaching inside her wetsuit and retrieving the box that she had forced into there. She felt a tingle in her nipples and crotch as she removed her mouthpiece and kissed the lifeless diver on the lips, deeply, before replacing the rubber molding back between her lips.
She pushed Claire’s lifeless body away into the darkness then checked her compass then watch. ‘Fuck!’, she thought, as she saw the time and immediately finned hard towards the rendezvous point, hoping that the others hadn’t given up on her and left already. As she kicked her legs, she checked her air gauge. What she saw was not good, but it was better than she expected, and again, she tried to mentally calculate her chances of getting to the extraction point before she was sucking on an empty tank.
The light filtering down from above had now stopped and it was hard to see her compass so she relied entirely on its luminosity. As she squinted at the pointer, she heard a whoosh above her as though some kind of low flying jet had passed overhead. She rolled onto her back to watch the surface, whilst also increasing her rate of finning and depth.
Despite looking for something unusual, she could not possibly have seen the six divers entering the water, three pairs of two, from the turbine powered boat which had slowed only momentarily to allow them to roll off the back and commence their mission. She would also not have been able to see that each diver carried a long speargun.
Ana Lucia rolled onto her front again and checked her air again. Almost empty now, probably from her increased depth and exertion. The muscles in her legs were just about to give up but she pushed on, knowing that if she stopped, whoever Claire had summoned would be ready to deal with her.
She checked her compass again and strained to see any point of reference. She was sure she was at the rendezvous point now but where was it? There should be the faint light of the airlock status to see. She swung completely around quickly then calmed down and scanned more slowly.
There it was! The glow of a green light! As she kicked hard towards it, she was startled as the night around her turned to day. Above her, a large number of flares which had detonated almost simultaneously, parachuted down and collectively bathed her in light.
‘Military,’ she thought, and increased her finning rate as fear crept into her.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Of the six divers that had entered the water, two broke off to investigate the aircraft which they could now clearly see below them.
The pair’s orders were to ascertain whether the payload had been taken and, if so, ensure that the arming box had been recovered by their people on the inside of the mission. Having no arming box rendered the nuclear warheads useless but loss of it could result in a critical mission failure unless the decoy box, which contained a homing beacon, allowed the agency they worked for to determine who had stolen it and prevent the weapons being made live.
As they descended quickly, they reached Claire’s body and raised their spearguns in case of a threat. When none came, one of the divers gave it only a cursory glance while the other’s gaze lingered longer – they’d never seen a dead body underwater before – and they thought it strange that the body only had a wetsuit and fins on. They both passed by, spearguns now lowered, and Claire floated slowly towards the surface she had so desperately wanted to reach, purely thanks to the buoyancy of her wetsuit.
The other four divers headed off in the direction that the magnetometer had recorded the anomaly then they reverted to the device that tracked the homing beacon in the decoy box. They could see the aircraft and, judging by the lack of divers around it, they needed to be quick.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Ana was aided by the light around her as she could now see the submersible quite clearly as it sat on the rocky bottom. Before she reached it, she turned to fin towards the airlock but, as she neared, she noticed that her mouthpiece was failing to give air at the rate her body demanded it. She sucked hard but her lungs only managed to collapse the rubber air hose at the side of her head.
She was so very tired and really needed the air.
As the air supply dwindled to nothing, she was back to holding her breath again.
She grabbed her own air hose with one hand, thought of it belonging to Claire, and yanked the mouthpiece from her lips, allowing it to float freely above her head. Her cheeks were puffed out and her lips pursed and she really didn’t want to be in the water for much longer as she expected deadly company to be arriving.
As she finned to the airlock hatch, she stopped and reached inside her wetsuit, scanning around as she did so, now absolutely certain that hostiles would be in the water somewhere near.
A small trail of bubbles burst from her lips as she then swam to the steel ‘wheel’ that passed through the airlock hatch door. She knelt on the hull, her fins raised behind her, and strained her body to rotate the wheel, her lips bubbling as she groaned with exertion.
‘Who the fuck has closed this?’ she thought and gave it another turn. This time, it gave, and she started to spin the wheel in her hands.
Just as it end stopped, she saw a glint of something as it passed inches in front of her mask. She swung her head around to see the silhouettes of four divers approaching fast, in two pairs of two.
‘Military formation? Fuck!’
She lifted the hatch quickly, just as another spear flew past dinking her spent air tank, and lurched head first into the tight hatch, waggling her fins as she legs passed through the opening to push herself inside.
A sudden pain shot through her foot and she squealed with agony, her mouth opening and releasing a plume of bubbles. She turned her body as it was inverted and looked upwards towards her feet and saw that a spear had penetrated her fin, just about where her toes would be. She waggled her toes and felt acute pain which caused her to vent more air from her mouth.
Blood had started to seep from around where the spear had entered but she could not see that it had hit her toe, severing it from her foot.
Her lungs burnt and foot blazed with pain.
Cringing with pain, she dragged her legs inside, along with the spear, and pulled the hatch down hard, then turned the wheel and, just as lights as bright as stars started to appear in her vision, she locked it then turned her body around and weakly turned the valve that forced the water out of the airlock.
A giant hiss of air filled her ears and she put her hand over her lips then forced her head towards the airlock door, the highest point in the chamber, and waited for the water level to drop. While she was there, she moved a lever to lock the outer door shut, just in case anyone decided that they’d like to join her.
Just as her vision was tunneling, she felt her face clear of the water and she took a giant intake of air.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
She gorged on air for a few moments before turning to deal with the spear. Grabbing her knife from her upper arm, she sawed at the spear until the barbed end was cut free, then she yanked the remainder of it out of her fin. She removed her fin and inspected the damage to her foot.
The pain was excruciating and it looked as bad as it felt but at least she was alive.
‘I guess that’s one mission “toe” remember,’ she thought to herself but failed to smile and, instead, crumpled into a tired heap at the second door of the airlock chamber.
As she lay on the cold metal, she banged her fist against the door and shouted.
‘It’s Ana. Open the fucking door! We’ve got company!’
Almost immediately, the wheel on the airlock door started to turn. Ana grabbed a hand rail in the chamber and hopped to her feet. As the door opened, residual water in the chamber gushed out and Ana Lucia bundled herself out with it, to the surprised looks of the group of females on the other side, all in their wetsuits still but now without their hoods.
‘We..we…thought you were one of them’, said one feebly.
‘It‘s a good job I‘m not. Let’s get the fuck out of here’, Ana Lucia stated quickly while dropping her dead scuba tank onto the floor. She then limped past the women to the submersible’s controls.
Upon reaching the cockpit of the submersible, Ana Lucia reached to a circuit breaker and yanked it into the on position. Through a view port, she could see one of the enemy divers outside holding what appeared to be some kind of limpet device and they were just about to attach it to the hull. Without thinking, she shoved her thumb into a recessed button on the control panel and a thrumming noise filled the entire vessel. Looking outside, the enemy diver had already started to convulse, their body moving spasmodically, and they immediately lost the single hose regulator from their mouth. Ana Lucia, trimmed the submersible so it lifted off the bottom then pushed the speed control for the propulsion to area marked ‘ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES.’
The screw at the rear of the submersible immediately started to spin up and start to provide forward thrust.
Outside, the four divers surrounding the submersible were incapacitated. One was already unconscious, her regulator spilled and free flowing furiously. Another, a male whose muscles clearly could be seen despite his wetsuit, feebly continued to convulse as his body stopped functioning electrically.
The remaining two divers, women recruits almost straight out of the agency training programme, stared out of their masks. Unblinking. Paralyzed. The regulator broke free of of the women’s lips and floated away as they remained completely motionless.
As the screw from the submersible had now reached it’s maximum RPM, the force of the water through it caused the dead and dying divers behind it to be thrown around, like skittles.
Ana Lucia pulled off her wetsuit hood and her long brown hair spilled over her shoulders, still damp. She turned around and saw the team sitting on short benches either side of the section behind her. They were looking at each other anxiously and some were grabbing the hand rails above their heads.
Two then started to compare notes, talking quietly, but the remainder stared into space, gathering their thoughts.
There was a single space on the bench that was empty. Claire’s space. There had never been a space for Gemma.
Ana Lucia leaned back and closed the bulkhead door behind her, separating herself from the rest of the group. She reached inside her wetsuit and pulled out the box that Claire had retrieved and eyed it. The other box, she had placed in some netting attached to the hull of the submersible, just in case, as, at the time, she thought it would be useless – just a decoy.
But why? There being two boxes had caused the cogs in her brain to turn.
She ignored her curiosity, momentarily, as her lips turned into a smug grin at the thought of coming out on top in obtaining both boxes and the payload.
Her employers should be more than pleased.
She turned her thoughts to Gemma struggling in her seat harness, the woman’s air hose sliced by her own hand, and the fight she’d had with her tricky girlfriend, Claire.
A tingling sensation came from between her legs and in her breasts again.
She reached inside her wetsuit and squeezed her nipple and rubbed her thighs together as her memory replayed the scenes she’d just been involved in.
She’d managed to get away with it.
Again.
And all the mission targets had been more than achieved. Quite apart from dispatching Claire and Gemma which gave her their shares, she thought she would get a special bonus and that maybe she could retire.
But, that wouldn’t be any fun for a girl like her – one with a real sense of adventure.
Maybe she could open a dive school? Yes, there’s an idea, she thought to herself then smiled at the irony of it. Blinking out of the thought, she checked the echo sounder, dipping the nose of the submersible to match the drop off of the sea bed. She then pushed one of the joysticks on the control panel to the right as she turned to a new vector to the second rendezvous.
She sighed and looked above her, to thank her dear grandmother for watching over her again.
written by guest author Pinglis
Mademoiselle
Teri made sure the captain had the best of everything from her establishment. After all, one could not suffer the wrath of the Nazis without risking one’s livelihood. And she owned an elegant restaurant just inside the city limits of Paris.
Captain Lowen and his officers treated her well along with those of her staff. Therefore she gave explicit instructions not to oppose anything they required. She did not expect anyone to actively assist the Nazis. But neither did she discourage those from choosing to take part in the resistance so long as she was not informed of their activities. That way she would not risk accidentally giving away valuable information.
Her focus was on the business she ran. And since the majority of her patrons were German she did not wish them to close her down, much less send her off to a concentration camp. Those who were taken by the SS were seldom heard from again.
Captain Lowen was not in uniform as he sat dining along, complimenting her on the fine meal. And as usual, she happily took him up to her room for a little something extra after he was finished. After all, it paid to be nice to him because it usually meant she and her staff were left alone to continue making a living during the Nazi occupation.
This evening Teri was dressed appropriately for entertaining, wearing a flowing, lacy red gown with quite a bit of cleavage showing, a garment she could easily slip out of when the time came. She wore bright red lipstick, with that same matching red color painted onto her fingernails and toenails. It accented her red hair, making her quite an alluring French mademoiselle.
The captain was in a sharp looking suit and tie, somewhat unusual for a German officer. But she’d once mentioned how the uniform always jarred and unnerved her. She wasn’t sure if it was out of politeness why he chose not to wear it in her establishment or whether he simply wanted to escape military life for a few hours.
She gave him some brandy as they listened to music on an old Victrola. She allowed him to remove her dress and fondle her breasts. Then as an after dinner treat she went down on him; kneeling in front of him, taking out his cock and then giving him her version of French dessert until he came in her mouth… which she dutifully swallowed.
They made their way over to the divan where they cuddled together in a state of undress, kissing each other while continuing to listen to the music. She asked him very few questions so as not to get herself into trouble on either side of the war. Besides, he was a decent lover, and he often brought her great pleasure in her bedchamber. Being too inquisitive was not a good habit to get into, especially if one valued one’s health.
“Mademoiselle, I must ask you about one of your patrons,” he finally murmured into her ear, “…one Pierre Garcon?”
“The name is unfamiliar to me,” she murmured back. “Let’s not talk shop; shall we, mon petit cheri?”
“But I must know, mademoiselle. The SS have been asking around. It is said he has been seen coming in and out of your establishment. I have heard Major Stubbin of the SS is a very hard man to deal with. I most certainly would hate for you to fall into his evil clutches over something so trite as the knowledge of a single, solitary individual.”
She nibbled on his ear, purring happily as he fingered her wet pussy. She had heard of this major, had heard how dangerous he could truly be. “If you should see this major,” she murmured, nuzzling his neck, “you can tell him I am not aware of such a man entering my establishment. I suppose it’s possible he may have come in while I was up here in my room… or perhaps while I was out shopping in the city. In any event, I have no knowledge of this man or why he would even haunt my establishment unless he is hungry for some fine French cuisine.”
“I am afraid for you, ma petit cheri,” he told her, the concern evident in his voice. “He claims to have information that leads him to believe there are those in this establishment helping the resistance.”
“There is no one I am aware of in my establishment engaged in such an activity, Herr Captain. Besides, it would certainly not be good for business to have such persons skulking around, would it not?”
“Are you sure, fraulein? He seems to think otherwise.”
“This major of whom you speak seems to be a very suspicious sort.”
“He has reason to be. The resistance is very active; members have been seen going in and out of your establishment.”
“I cannot control who walks in and out of my business, Herr Captain. I do not know everyone who passes through my doors, nor do I have such desire to know. In this day and age knowledge is a most dangerous weapon.”
“Indeed, mademoiselle… VERY dangerous. And I think you are a very poor liar.”
“What?” But she could get out nothing further as a hands suddenly wrapped tightly around her neck and began to squeeze.
He forced her to her feet, backing her into the bedroom as she rasped and gurgled. “You must speak, fraulein,” he said in a quiet, ominous tone. “You must tell me the truth before you endanger yourself.” Then he let go. She coughed as she rubbed her neck, eyeing him with great shock.
“You have never treated me this way before, Herr Captain. Have I done something to displease you?”
“You have not answered my questions, fraulein.”
“But I know nothing, Herr Captain!”
He slapped her face hard, spinning her around. It happened so fast she had no advance warning. She looked at him aghast, her eyes wide with alarm as she instinctively rubbed where he had slapped her.
He suddenly reached out and cruelly smacked her breasts, causing her to yelp in pain. Then he lashed out again, grabbing her neck once more and starting to squeeze. “You are lying, fraulein,” he growled with deadly menace. “The major does not tolerate liars.”
“I’m not… lying!” she gasped, struggling to breathe.
He abruptly let go of her neck again, only to slap her face once more as she tried to gasp for breath. She went spinning around, tumbling onto the bed on her back. In a flash he was on top of her, his hands once more finding her vulnerable throat as he quietly murmured, “Mademoiselle, I find your lack of candor troubling.”
“I speak… the truth!” she rasped. Then she yelped as he slid his dick inside her. This time it actually hurt!
He started raping her as he squeezed her neck even more, thrusting hard as he brutally fucked her… deliberately hurting her. “The Major does not suffer liars,” he hissed at her.
“Tell… the major…” she started to gasp.
“But I AM the major, fraulein!”
Teri gasped in horror, her eyes flying open with horrible realization. Was it true?? Had she been entertaining the Major of the SS unawares this entire time in her eating establishment??
She had no idea what he might have learned from her being as how she knew so little. But he didn’t seem to care. He just raped her harder, thrusting brutally inside her pussy while taking what he wanted.
This was not the lovemaking she was used to in days gone by. But the revelation made sense now. Had any of their previous meetings and intimate encounters been anything more than him “pumping” her for what little information she might have possessed?? She suspected not. This evil man was all business and little more, other than obtaining what pleasures he could get for himself.
“Major, I – AWK!”
She stiffened and shuddered, struggling to pull a breath of air into her tortured lungs as he cruelly squeezed her neck. Then he let her go and she gasped for breath, only for him to backhand her hard across the face. She cried out from the blow, her vision swirling as she began to tremble from the dangerous “quicksand” she now found herself sinking into.
“Filthy schlampe!” he snarled at her, calling her a slut in his native tongue. “We shall see what information you have been giving the leaders of the resistance!” Then he rolled her over onto her hands and knees.
She cried out as he pushed his hard cock into her anus. She started to scream, only for him to clamp a hand over her mouth. “Filthy partisan!” he hissed into her ear. “We of the SS know how to take care of hündinnen like you!” Then he raped her ass as his hands found her neck once more, choking her all over again.
Teri rasped and gurgled, struggling to breathe. The bastard was going to choke her to death as he raped her!! She had no idea she’d been hosting the notorious major of the SS in her establishment!! Why hadn’t somebody warned her; didn’t anybody KNOW the man by sight enough to enlighten her as to who she’d been entertaining??
She felt him cry out as he pumped his seed into her ass. Then her vision started to cloud over as he choked her into unconsciousness, her eyes rolling just before she passed out. The last thing she was aware of was him finishing pounding her ass so very, very hard…
–
Teri was surprised to regain consciousness. When she did she discovered she was no longer in her room, much less back at her establishment. She was sitting naked in a wooden chair with armrests in a plain looking room with white walls. Her arms were secured to the armrests; she was not going anywhere.
The door swung open a couple minutes later and her captain walked in. This time he was wearing his full SS uniform – all black with medals all over as well as those ugly black jack boots. A red armband on his left arm brandished the swastika she intensely disliked over what it stood for. The entire uniform caused her to shudder with fear and revulsion.
She looked at him with fright, wondering what he was going to do to her now. She doubted she had anything meaningful to offer him. By now he’d probably already learned what little she DID know; anything more probably wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans.
“I’m sorry about your clothes, fraulein,” he told her as he started to remove his gloves, “…they seem to have been lost during transport.”
She trembled again, wondering who had seen her naked body while she had been hauled here against her will. She wondered what kind of torture she would be subjected to before she was sent back to her establishment. Funny the way she harbored that hope. But she truly believed he would learn so little as to consider her not worth any future investment of his time and would ultimately let her go.
“Not even a robe, Herr Captain?” she asked, feeling a little defiance coming on as she used the title he’d been giving her in her restaurant. “Aren’t you going to be a little more thoughtful about all this?”
“Schlampe!” he declared, striking her in the face with one of his gloves. Then he stepped in front of her menacingly.
“I would not be so worried about your attire right now if I were you. After all, we did not complete our little talk back in your room, ma petit cheri. I wish to renew our discussion.”
“I seriously doubt I have much to offer you,” she told him, trying to sound nonchalant despite the fear she was experiencing. “But you may ask your questions. Then I need to get back to running my business.”
“You may not even HAVE a business by the time I get through with you, fraulein! Now to the business at hand! Pierre Garcon… Gaston Lorning… Maurice Letruse… these men have been seen inside your establishment.”
“These names are unfamiliar to me, Herr Captain. I’m sorry but I’m afraid I cannot be of more help. But if you release me I’m sure I can show my gratitude to you in other more pleasurable ways.” She was starting to feel more confident now… maybe even a bit playful with him. Maybe she could charm him into letting her go.
“You had best try again, mademoiselle. I do not tolerate lairs in this building, a fact that is well known among my subordinates. And I suggest you start referring to me by my proper rank.”
“It is the truth, mon petit cheri. These names are unfamiliar to me.”
“You refuse to cooperate?”
“I refuse to speculate upon that of which I have no knowledge about.”
“Does this mean our time here has come to an end?” She shivered at the menace in the tone of his remark.
“Perhaps it has, Herr Major. I wish I could be of more help. But if you would like to escort me back to my business I can certainly have my people whip up a soufflé for you to enjoy… perhaps a chocolate mousse for your troubles?”
“A noble offer, fraulein.” Then he stepped behind her.
Teri stiffened, not knowing what he was going to do next. A moment later she felt a thin cord come around her throat. Almost immediately he pulled it tight, cutting off her breath as well as her circulation.
“Are you sure you have no information for me, fraulein?” he breathed ominously into her ear. “Otherwise our time in here could be very short indeed.”
She rasped and gurgled, thrashing about in the chair. Was he actually going to kill her? She might not live to even make it back inside her establishment! Then her world started to go dim as she wet herself.
“I don’t know,” he mused thoughtfully behind her, keeping the tension in the cord. “Perhaps you can yet be persuaded.”
“NOT IF YOU KILL ME FIRST!” her mind screamed. “OHGAWD; HE’S REALLY GOING TO KILL ME!” Then she shuddered as she passed out again…
—
Teri was dimly aware of being freed from the chair, dimly aware of being half dragged out of the room in her nudity. She was taken to another room where she was strung up by her wrists to something up in the ceiling. Oddly the Spartan room contained nothing more than a rough looking trough of water three feet wide and three feet deep.
There was the sound of a pulley as she was pulled up into the air by her wrists until her toes no longer touched the floor. Then she helplessly swayed back and forth, grunting and whimpering with fright. That’s when the major came up to her, stopping her naked body from swaying long enough to grab her by her chin.
“I suggest you tell me what you know, fraulein,” he warned her. “Gruber here really enjoys his work!”
She looked over to see a fat, sweaty shirtless man with a whip in his hand. His face was red as though he suffered from high blood pressure. Then the major stepped away and nodded at him.
Gruber swung the whip in her direction, causing it to wrap around her waist with a painful sting. Teri screamed in agony, her body jerking and shuddering enough to set her to swaying back and forth. Then the major smiled at her as he stepped forward.
“Do you see how efficient my sergeant is, ma petit cheri? He has had many years to develop his craft. Perhaps you would like to feel more?”
“No! Major; I know nothing; I SWEAR it!”
“Nothing? How odd! Ok, Gruber; I believe she would like more.”
He stepped out of the way and smiled as the sergeant swung the whip a second time. This time it wrapped around her chest. The tip swung all the way around and stung her breasts with a sharp crack. Teri jerked and then screamed again.
“Herr Major; I know nothing!” she cried out. “I do not know these men of whom you speak – AAIEEEE!!” This time the whip wrapped around her waist until the tip amazingly stung her dripping pussy.
Teri jerked again as she swung back and forth from the rope in the ceiling. She sobbed and whimpered, trembling as she hung there. “Well, ma petit cheri?” the major asked in soothing tones. “Does this loosen your lips?”
“I know… nothing of… these men. Perhaps you have… the wrong establishment – AAIIEEEEEE!!” The next one wrapped around her chest, stinging her tits again.
“Such a stubborn, how you say… bitch?” Then he turned to his sadistic sergeant.
“Herr Gruber; you may proceed. I will be back after sufficient time has passed for you to enjoy yourself. Meanwhile, if mademoiselle gets thirsty please see that she receives something to drink.” He nodded at the trough and then turned one last time toward his naked charge.
“I will give you some time alone with Herr Gruber, ma petit cheri. I hope the time will be well spent.” Then he abruptly walked out the door.
“Thank you, Herr Major!” sergeant Gruber nodded at the SS man’s backside as he left the room. Then he turned and grinned wickedly at the trembling naked woman hanging by her wrists gently swaying back and forth.
“MAJOR, DON’T LEAVE ME!” Teri cried out at the closing door. Then the shirtless man swung the whip again.
She screamed before it landed… continued screaming long after it had bit into her left breast. Then she cried out again for the major to return. But the door did not reopen.
The whip sang out again, leaving a welt on her bare buttocks. She screamed once more, her naked body jerking and swaying. Then the whip sang out yet again, this time stinging her pussy something fierce. Teri screamed up at the heavens, but she was certain those guardian angels up there must have turned their backs on her to allow her to be subjected to such torment.
The whip sang out again and again and again. Wicked red welts blossomed all over her tits, her ass, even her waist. Amazingly he seemed to know how to swing the damned thing in order to hit her pussy just right!!
She cried; she screamed; she begged for mercy. She had no idea who the men were the sadistic major wanted information about, other than they had to be a part of the resistance. It hurt like hell, but she wasn’t sure she would have told him anything even if she had known something useful! Surely they would receive the same treatment she was now undergoing if they were ever arrested… whoever they were!
The whippings continued for the better part of an hour until she was exhausted and feeling half dead. That’s when Gruber came over and took her down. He smelled horrible, but she was too weak to make any attempt to keep him away much less attempt an escape.
He tied her arms roughly behind her back. Then he walked her over to the trough. She was thirsty; a drink would certainly do her good. Besides, Gruber smelled like he hadn’t bathed in quite a long time!
He suddenly bent her over and pushed her head down into the trough with a splash. The water was bracingly cold; it snapped her wide awake as she cried out in a flurry of bubbles. Her head was jerked back up and she gasped madly for breath, cold water cascading out of her hair to stream down her face.
Her head was forced downward again despite her best efforts to resist. The water was cold as hell; she nearly inhaled! She cried out as she bubbled her breath away until he pulled her head back up.
She gasped wildly for breath, all the while sensing some sort of movement behind her. Then she thought she felt his prick push into her shamefully wet pussy. “Sergeant; NO!” she cried out, only for her head to be forced back down into the water. Then he started to fuck her while she was forced to hold her breath.
Teri screamed again as she bubbled her breath away until her lungs were empty. She tried to fight him off, but he was much too strong for her. Then he jerked her head up out of the water by a handful of her red hair, raping her mercilessly.
She gasped and sputtered, trying to keep from sobbing. Then he pushed her head back down. It was terribly cold but at least she’d had a split-second to refill her tortured lungs first.
He raped her hard and fast as though the goal was to see just how many times he could ram his cock inside her in the span of a few seconds. Teri grunted and bubbled, her crimson strands flowing all around her head. Then he jerked her head back up, allowing her to cough and sputter and gasp for breath again. Oddly he never bothered asking any questions.
The humiliation of being fucked and dunked was almost more than she could bear. She was starting to wish for the major’s return, wondering what she could tell him… if she could even get away with making up a story to escape this sadistic torture. Then she felt Gruber adjust his grip, the move indicating her head was about to go back down into the trough.
“Sergeant; WAIT!” she wailed. Then she inhaled a split-second before she was shoved back down. The shock of the cold water made her cry out a bubbly scream of humiliation.
She could feel a perverse arousal from her horrible situation start to rise up within her. The SS bastard was thrusting unbelievably hard, thrusting as though he wanted to hurt her! And her body was beginning to respond, beginning to betray her!
She was pulled up for another breath, gasping like crazy. “STOP, HERR SERGEANT!” she shrieked. He just grabbed a handful of hair and shoved her head back down into the water until she was bubbling like crazy. Her lungs heaved in protest as she wondered just how long this was going to go on before the crazy German bastard simply decided to drown her…
—
“You’re sure?” the major said into the receiver. “You’re absolutely certain of this? And the bitches have already been hanged naked? I would have enjoyed seeing that. Pity. Thank you for the call, Herr Captain. Heil Hitler!” Then he hung up the phone.
Interesting. It appeared the lovely lady he’d been screwing all these months while dining at her establishment appeared to be telling the truth after all. Obviously she knew nothing about these three men; it was a mix-up in the information he’d been given as to the establishment they’d been frequenting. In fact, there was no concrete evidence of any sort of resistance activity at her business at all!
He shook his head, chuckling how he had misjudged her. Still… he could not help but doubt the fraulein’s total innocence in all this. After all, she was a French woman living forcibly within occupied territory. Was anyone truly innocent in these matters?
He smiled as he considered whose hands he’d left her in. Gruber was totally competent… and he thoroughly enjoyed his work. Hell, she might even derive some small enjoyment out of it!
The question now was what to do with her. Surely he could not let her go back to her establishment as though nothing had happened. No, perhaps it was best to carry on with pretenses despite the information he’d received. She would be tortured until she confessed to something. And if she didn’t confess? Well, he was certain something could be arranged for the stubborn fraulein.
Major Stubbin pulled out a cigarette and lit up, taking a deep drag as he considered the French woman who was now entertaining the good sergeant. It was possible she knew something, even if it was no more than a morsel or two. Perhaps she might have something valuable to contribute to the war effort so long as he gave her just enough quality alone-time with the sergeant…
—
He was relentless, fucking her pussy again and again while dunking her head in the trough. Teri was half drowned, coughing and sputtering. What embarrassed her was the sensations swelling inside her. She was getting close to orgasming from her humiliating ordeal!
The sergeant pulled her head up out of the water, allowing her to gasp for breath. Teri felt him slide out of her pussy; thank gawd the rape was over! Then she felt him push the head of his dick against a more intimate opening.
Teri started to tremble, shaking her head and mumbling for the sergeant not to do it. She did not want to be violated in this manner. In fact, she had not even permitted the major during his impersonation as the good captain to enter her thusly!
She cried out as he forced his way in. Then her head was forced back into the trough and the cold water awaiting her. Teri screamed and bubbled as her ass was brutally violated. It hurt like hell; oh, how it hurt!
He seemed to care not a whit as to her situation. And he still asked her no questions! He pounded her relentlessly until she was sure he was going to drown her! Then he pulled her head out of the water, allowing her to gasp wildly for breath.
Teri coughed and sputtered, her body trembling from the pain of her whipping while shuddering from his anal assault. Her tits heaved, her nipples so painfully hard from being submerged in cold water. She begged him to stop, told him she would willingly fuck him if he stopped! In response he cruelly forced her head back down into the water, submerging her tits as he continued to brutalize her ass.
Teri screamed bubbles from the rape… screamed from the humiliation of her violation. She also cried out from the shame of the sensations that continued to swell within her, carnal sensations that threatened to overwhelm her. It was bad enough he was raping her ass; she did not want to cum as a result of her sexual humiliation!
He pulled her head back up moments before her lungs would have given out. Teri cried out in anguish, gasping in a frantic attempt to get her breath back. The smell of the man was awful; knowing that horrible cock was inside her made it a thousand times worse. Then her head was pushed back down into the water again.
Teri cried out in a froth of bubbles as he pounded her ass. He seemed to be enjoying it, seemed to be fucking her as though he wanted to hurt her! Where the hell was that major; why didn’t he come back and put a stop to all this??!!
He pulled her head back up as though knowing just how much she could take before her lungs gave out. She panted wildly for breath, feeling his cock violating her ass. And it felt like her orgasm was getting closer; she couldn’t seem to stop it!!
It would’ve been so much easier to give up, so much easier simply to succumb before she was subjected to even more agony. But Teri’s body simply refused to give in. And so he shoved her head back down into the cold water of the trough as he raped her ass harder.
Teri screamed into the water, bubbling like crazy as her muscles twitched and clenched reflexively, instinctively milking his savage fuck-tool. She was aware of her body’s response to his assault, shamefully aware of the way her muscles were fucking him back. She wanted to make herself stop, prayed for some way to make herself stop! She even tried to open up her lungs to the cold water of the trough, but she just couldn’t do it!
Her head was abruptly pulled up out of the water again, allowing her to gasp wildly for breath. Then someone blew a cloud of cigarette smoke into her face. The major had returned, a sadistic smile on his face.
“I see you and the sergeant are becoming intimately acquainted, ma petit cheri. Please don’t stop on my account.” Then she cried out as her head was abruptly forced back down into the cold water again.
Teri screamed and bubbled… screamed for the major to make him stop as Gruber pumped her ass with his cock. The fact that the sadistic SS man was looking on as she was being raped only added to her humiliation. It swelled shamefully inside her until it threatened to crest.
Her head was roughly pulled back up and she gasped wildly for breath again. “Herr Gruber; it simply amazes me how long you can prolong their agony. You seem to know the exact moment the body wants to give in and start to drown. Then you pull them up seconds before that moment. You are truly a master of your craft.”
…and then Teri screamed as she was forced back down into the cold water, her ass being brutally raped repeatedly…
She let out a bubbly cry as it swelled within her until it crested and spilled over. Teri’s muscles clenched onto the thrusting cock inside her anal passage, involuntarily milking him as her body exploded in orgasm. She writhed and bubbled in helpless agony, feeling sore all over from the residual pain of her previous whippings. At least the pleasure of her orgasm helped diminish her suffering somewhat.
She felt herself approaching the abyss of oblivion, deciding it was best to give in to it. Then she abruptly shuddered before passing out from the intensity of the agony her body was enduring. Teri went limp in the grasp of the sadistic sergeant.
Gruber pulled her head out of the water, but there was no corresponding gasp for breath. The major grabbed a handful of hair and took a good look into the face of the French woman. He observed the dazed look in the eyes of his mademoiselle, and he smiled with contempt.
“I believe she enjoyed your time together, Herr Gruber. But I she appears to need a moment or two to compose herself. That should give you the time you need to retrieve the plank.”
The sergeant pulled his cock out of her ass, a trickle of cum leaking out as a result. Then he simply let go of her naked body, allowing her to collapse onto the floor in a heap. Teri trembled with her eyes glazed over as her body went into little twitches and spasms. Then she took a little breath, followed by another and then another as the life slowly returned to her eyes.
“I trust you and the sergeant got more acquainted?” the major asked, looking down upon her crumpled form. Teri didn’t respond other than to take one ragged breath after another. Then Gruber returned with a wide plank in his grasp.
He propped it up against the trough at an angle. Then he picked up the French woman as though she were nothing more than a rag doll. He laid her upon the plank where he untied her wrists from behind her back before working to secure her to the plank with her arms wrapped around the wide piece of oak.
“Ma petit cheri, you have been less than helpful,” the major explained. “It seems you know far more than you are telling us. As I have been in your bed many times I DO wish you would treat me more as an intimate, one to whom you can feel comfortable sharing your innermost thoughts and secrets. What do you say, mademoiselle?” Then he grabbed her chin and looked coldly into her eyes.
Teri gasped and shuddered, her body sore all over. Was the major really so stubborn and so clueless as to continue pursuing this despite her obvious lack of knowledge? What was it she was purportedly to have known??
“I know of… no such… men in my… establishment, major.”
“You disappoint me, mademoiselle. Usually you charming ladies are hard to silence… and now you have nothing to say? How odd.” Then he nodded at Gruber.
The sergeant suddenly slid the board along the edge of the trough until Teri found herself hovering over the water below. She turned and looked at the major in growing alarm. Then she began shaking her head… gawd; not the cold water again??
“I must apologize for my negligence, mademoiselle, for not allowing you the time you need for your nightly bath. Allow me.” Then with a nod at Gruber the board was lowered until she was dropped into the trough.
Teri’s body seized up as she lay at an angle in cold water that climbed up to her waist. It covered all the red welts on her chest, tits and stomach from her previously whipping, numbing her from that pain while making her shudder from the cold. She cried out a flurry of bubbles, her nipples returning to their full hardness as her pussy and ass throbbed from the residual sensations of having recently been savagely fucked.
“I must apologize for the lack of soap, ma petit cheri,” the major explained as he looked down upon her submerged upper half. “Here at the SS we have so little time for such luxuries. I guess you’ll just have to enjoy your bath without them.”
Teri began to writhe and bubble, her body becoming numb as her lungs heaved in warning. Gruber leaned on the free end of the plank sticking out of the water. Teri came up out of the cold embrace of liquid, gasping and sputtering for breath as water cascaded off her sore, naked body.
“That bath does not look as pleasant as I thought,” the major observed with feigned sympathy. “Are you SURE you have nothing to tell me, mademoiselle?”
She gasped for breath, her eyes big as she sensed this too was only the beginning of another set of dunkings. Then Gruber lowered the plank back down into the water until she was submerged again. Once more her body seized up from the cold as she started writhing and bubbling.
Every place the whip had left a welt seemed to throb at once. Her pussy and ass ached as her nipples protruded so painfully out of her boobs. If there was anything worse the SS could do to a person she certainly couldn’t imagine what it could be!
Was it longer; had Gruber left her in longer? Was the bastard going to drown her while the major looked on without a care in the world?? Then she was tipped upward out of the water, coughing and sputtering again.
“A most unique way of washing your hair, ma petit cheri,” he observed. “Please explain to me why you think this is much more efficient.”
“Herr Major!” Teri cried out. Then Gruber lowered the plank again. Teri felt it hit the bottom of the trough, her body seizing up yet again. She was amazed she could even hold her breath in all this cold!
Goosebumps broke out all over her flesh. Her nipples were so hard she was afraid the cruel major would be able to break them off on a whim! Her body trembled and shuddered as she struggled to hold her breath.
The cruel sergeant leaned on the end of the plank, bringing her back up to the surface. Water cascaded off her quivering, naked flesh as the red welts that crisscrossed her body throbbed painfully. She gasped for breath twice, gave the major a plaintive look… and was cruelly submerged again!
Down she went, her body once more feeling like it had just seized up on her. Teri wondered if a healthy individual might suffer some sort of heart seizure from all this torture. She had no idea how long they were going to dunk her… only that she prayed it would end soon.
Gruber leaned on his end of the plank, causing her to rise up out of the cold water again. Teri panted weakly for breath, feeling herself becoming numb. At least her body was acclimatizing… or was she starting to slip into hypothermia? She had no idea; was that possible being dunked so often in cold water?
“Gruber, I believe mademoiselle here misses her toys when she bathes. Would you see to it?”
The sergeant grinned, causing Teri to shudder as she wondered what that was all about. Then her end of the plank abruptly dropped into the water. She had no time to get a good breath as she was cruelly submerged yet again.
Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw the sergeant leave the room. Where the hell was he going? Would the major lift her out before she drowned? Or would he even bother sullying his hands any further??
She wriggled and squirmed, waiting for the sergeant to return. The major’s eyes seemed to wander; he was starting to look bored. What about her… wasn’t he going to pull her back out? Was this finally it??
She wasn’t sure how long she was forced to hold her breath before Gruber returned. For some reason she was grateful he was not gone long. She sensed she was not long for this earth, but for some reason her body kept fighting to stay alive.
Gruber seemed to hand a couple of objects over to the major. Then he pushed down on his end of the plank. Teri came up out of the water, coughing and sputtering while trying to get her breath back.
“Oh, these are excellent, Herr Gruber!” the major observed. “The lady should be most appreciative. Which one do you wish to start with first?”
He hefted them both in his hands as Teri panted heavily for breath. They looked ominous, and she did not have a clear line of vision to see what they were. Gruber simply dropped her into the trough again with a startled cry before reaching out to take one from the major.
Teri moaned and bubbled, struggling in vain to free herself from the plank she was secured to. Was the water getting warmer; was she getting more acclimatized? Or was she becoming numb, running a grave risk of hypothermia? Did it really matter anymore, considering this was probably how they intended to kill her?
She felt something push against her anus, felt Gruber slowly twist it into her ass. It hurt like hell and she screamed her breath away. He abruptly leaned into the plank, lifting her out of the trough before she would have drowned.
Teri yelped and whimpered, panting wildly to get her breath back. I suggest you get yourself a really good breath, mademoiselle,” the major suggested. “This might hurt a little.” Then Gruber started to lower her back down into the water.
Teri quickly gulped down a lungful of air. Then she was submerged again as her end of the plank went all the way to the bottom of the trough. Then Gruber started twisting the object in her ass again.
She wriggled and squirmed; she writhed and bubbled. Then Teri screamed in agony. The farther it was pushed inside, the bigger it felt… and therefore the worse it hurt!
With a hard thrust it was soon seated inside her ass. Teri screamed again, bubbles spewing out of her mouth. The plank was tipped up until she came up out of the water gasping and sputtering again.
“P-p-please, m-m-major,” she whimpered. “I know n-n-nothing!”
“Surely you know something, ma petit cheri. Perhaps you’d like the other object now?” And with a nod at Gruber the plank started to go down into the water again.
Teri inhaled deeply; she just couldn’t help herself. She wanted to live… or rather her body did! It was instinctive; perhaps it was a desire to stay alive until such time as she thought she might be rescued or the major simply got bored with her and let her go. But something inside her told her they’d passed the point where that was even a remote possibility.
Something was pushed into her pussy, making her wriggle and squirm again as she bubbled in agony. It did not feel as bad as the massively uncomfortable object now residing in her ass. But that only made her worry this device held a secret far more painful than the one up her bum.
She certainly was being left in the water for a long time; her lungs were starting to scream at her. Were they going to allow her up for a breath? Or was the object going to explode in her pussy, perhaps catapulting her into eternity?
Gruber leaned on the plank again, lifting her up out of the water. Her nipples were so hard they felt numb from the pain. Her bloody red welts all over her naked body felt like they were fusing together into one massive blanket of agony.
“Is that better, ma petit cheri?” the major asked soothingly. “No?? Very well. Gruber will adjust it for you.”
Teri’s eyes flew open in alarm at those words. A moment later the plank lowered her back down into the water. She filled her lungs with air just in time before she was dunked back into the cold water of the trough.
She felt Gruber reach between her legs for the object in her pussy. Then she felt some discomfort. Wait; was it starting to get bigger inside her??
Her eyes got even bigger as she struggled to hold her breath. The pain was bad again in her pussy, worse than when she was being raped! What had he put inside her that was making it swell with pain??
Her head twisted from side to side as she bubbled her breath away, her face wincing in agony. It certainly would have been better to give in and drown herself, but still her lungs would not give out. She continued holding her breath as once more that humiliating sensation of arousal began to swell within her. Gawd; she was going to cum again despite all this torture and agony!!
She didn’t think she was going to last another second before Gruber leaned on the end of the plank, lifting her back out of the trough. She gasped mightily for breath, whimpering and groaning with pain. The major just looked at her with a sad little smile before reaching out to pat her on the forehead. Then Gruber lowered her right back down, causing her to frantically gasp for breath before she went down.
Her body did not seize quite so badly this time, she was getting used to the cold. Then Gruber reached down between her legs again. The object in her pussy began to swell uncomfortably, her eyes getting bigger and bigger until it really hurt! Even her ass was throbbing painfully!
She was pulled out of the water, allowed to catch her breath for a few moments… lowered back down. Then the object in her pussy was adjusted until it felt like it had swollen even larder. Now she truly was in agony! She bubbled her breath away and was lifted back up moments before she would have given in to the inevitable.
“I believe she needs some alone-time with her toys, Herr Gruber,” the major instructed the sergeant. “Please finish your task so we can leave her alone for a few minutes.”
Gruber nodded as he swung the plank over until it was fully resting on the sides of the trough. Teri whimpered, but at least she wouldn’t be dropping into that cold water again. Then the sergeant reached between her legs and…
“AAAIEEEEEEEE!!!”
It was as though he was twisting on something to make the object in her pussy swell to an unbearable size. She wailed; she screamed; she begged the major to relieve her suffering; she promised to divulge all. But the sergeant and the major calmly walked away and left the room.
Teri screamed from the agony in her holes, screamed as her body thrashed about involuntarily. It hurt like hell and there was no relief! Every inch of her felt like it was on fire; all the welts from the whippings, the agony in her lungs from her repeated dunkings, the raging torture that now enveloped both her holes.
She cried; she screamed; she begged; she pleaded. Then she screamed some more. The pain was unbearable; she would have done anything to make it stop.
How long had it been… minutes … hours? Time had no meaning for her. It felt like it had been ages… and yet it felt like it had only just started, making her think she was doomed to suffer like this for all eternity.
She heard the door open… and still she screamed. She saw Gruber and the major walk in… and yet she could not stop screaming. “Au revoir, ma petit cheri,” the major told her with a very sadistic look in his eyes. Then Gruber angled the plank over the center of the trough before lowering her back down into the water.
Teri felt the cold jolt her as she tried to hold her breath. But the pain in her holes was unrelenting. Then it was torn out of her lungs, a bubbly scream of agony.
Her lungs emptied and she instinctively inhaled. Instantly her body began bucking and jerking, all caught up in the throes of drowning. She tried to scream from the pain, but her lungs were flooding and all that came out was a painful gurgle.
Teri was dimly aware she was cumming… cumming while she was drowning. It was the ultimate indignity after all that had been done to her. To cum in front of these two sadistic SS men was the culmination of her torture.
She shuddered hard, grunting and gurgling as her body thrashed about. Then she began to settle down aside from a few stray muscles spasming and twitching. She stared upward at the ceiling, her mouth open wide in a rictus of great pain. Then the life flickered out of her eyes as the last of the air in her lungs began streaming out past her parted lips to trickle upward to the surface of the trough.
“I do believe she appreciated the toys you brought her, Herr Gruber,” the major told him. “My compliments to your efforts. Expect a bonus in your pay next week.”
“Many thanks, Herr Major,” he replied. Then he motioned at the unmoving body in the water…
“What shall I do with mademoiselle?”
“Allow her the rest of the evening to enjoy her bath. Then take her down and throw her in the river. Surely anyone who comes across her body will understand the wisdom of cooperating with the SS once they see how we interrogated her.”
“Heil Hitler!” the sergeant proclaimed in a stiff salute. Then they left the room, leaving Teri alone at the bottom of the trough as the waters became still…
© 2016 (written for Teri Jan 28 ’16 by riwa)
Posted in Asphyxia Stories, Drowning Stories
Tagged BDSM, bondage, choking, drowning, graphic sex, nudity, strangling
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Reparations
It all started when a group of Jamaicans demanded reparations for the slave trade from the United States and the United Kingdom. Naturally those countries turned them down. To be honest I would have turned them down too as that was so many years ago. But I guess that little country was taking it seriously… or at least a certain group of them certainly were.
A bunch of men stormed a compound on the Eastern side of the island, taking several women as hostages. They promised to hang one every few days unless their demands were met. This really caused a lot of tension between the countries involved as the women were from the US.
A series of negotiations were started, but for the most part they went for naught. They were not going to get any money, yet they were determined to hang one of the girls unless they did. I found the whole thing a little ridiculous, but I also found it terribly arousing.
With my connections I somehow managed to contact the embassy. I told them I would fly to Jamaica to assist with the negotiations. And if that failed then I was willing to give my life in exchange for the release of some of the hostages. Frankly I’m amazed they agreed.
As soon as my sister found out about what I’d done she tried to put a stop to it. She told me I was crazy as a loon to leave my family like that and that I was going only because of some of my deep, dark hanging fantasies. She asked me if this was my way of playing them out, but I told her it was none of her business and that I knew what I was doing. That’s when she told me she was coming along to make sure I was all right despite my numerous objections.
I came up with some excuse telling everyone I should be back in eight to ten days. Then we flew out of London and arrived in Kingston where we were escorted by limo to the outside of the compound where the hostages were being kept. I told them I was willing to enter freely of my own accord so long as they released some of the hostages. When my sister couldn’t talk me out of my crazy plan, she told me she was going inside with me no matter what.
I guess it helped because when they found out they were getting two willing hostages they actually released eight of their prisoners. I figured it was all worth it, especially if my actions had saved the lives of four women with my sister saving the lives of four more. But naturally I was worried about her safety more than my own.
Once inside we were under the complete control of the rebels. They searched us to make sure we were not carrying any concealed weapons or any kind of listening devices. They even stripped us nude.
It was a little embarrassing, especially for my sister. But I loved the way some of those men gawked at my naked body. Maybe it was because we were so white and their skin was so dark.
After we dressed we were marched right in to see the commanding general where I wasted no time telling them I would hang for them all if the negotiations failed. My sister immediately blurted out that she would have none of that so long as she was present, although I told her we no longer had any choice in the matter. That’s when she sighed before announcing with a sense of resignation that she would hang right alongside me if it came to that.
I was astonished at her decision, as was the general who was stunned at our bravery. Or maybe he was shocked at our foolhardiness. Maybe he thought we had a crazy death wish or something because up ‘til now there had been no budging on the negotiations from either side.
After promising we would not try to escape and that we would be available for anything required of us, we were both given a rather comfortable room. I immediately changed into a sexy bathing suit as it was rather hot outside. I was determined to use the nice pool we’d seen on our way through the compound.
My sister thought I was crazy showing off my body like that. But for some inexplicable reason she decided to wear something similar. Then we both hit the pool for some sun and cool water as it was an extremely warm day.
It didn’t take long before we attracted the attention of several of the guards. I didn’t mind one bit, especially since we were unarmed and were absolutely no threat to them whatsoever. Actually I rather liked the attention we were receiving.
It wasn’t long until I noticed a couple of them were sporting rather huge bulges. I’d heard the stories about some of the darker skinned lads having large cocks, and I was curious to find out. So I climbed out of the water, knelt in front of the nearest guard and pulled his cock out, much to the consternation of my sister.
It was huge; it was glorious; it made me wet with longing! “Oh lighten up, love!” I admonished her. “We’re going to hang anyway, so we might as well have a little fun before we die!” Then I took that gorgeous hunk of man meat into my mouth.
It was quite a chore, but somehow I managed to get his nine inches all the way down my throat. To help him along I pulled off my bikini top and allowed him to grope my tits. My sister just shook her head at me, muttering something along the lines of “I don’t believe this rubbish!” Then to my complete and utter shock she also knelt in front of a nearby guard, pulled his cock out and then started to suck his as well!!
Well there we were… two slutty sisters sucking on huge dicks right there along the side of the pool! Those guards must have thought they’d died and gone to heaven! Sis even took her top off and flashed her boobs at her man, grunting and gurgling as that big black cock pushed all the way down her throat.
It wasn’t long until both guards grunted. They pulled out of our mouths and started spurting all over our boobs. I swear, it was such an incredible feeling being treated like that! Even sis seemed to get off on it!
More guards came around, but we willingly serviced them all. Then the general came around wanting to know what the bloody hell was going on. I told him since we were going to hang anyway we had both decided we wanted to enjoy our last days as much as possible.
Apparently this must have really made him appreciate our presence as well as our willingness to hang because our quarters were upgraded almost immediately. We ended up with a suite with two large bedrooms, a place usually reserved for the general’s aide. We also got all the food and drink we wanted, complete with champagne and caviar.
After a while a couple of the guards came around to our new quarters. Apparently they wanted a little more attention than the blowjobs we had freely passed out back at the pool. So I took one into my bedroom, not caring a wit what my sister did with hers. Then I went to town sucking on that glorious cock he was sporting.
I really went down on him until it gagged my throat. Then I got buck naked before climbing onto the bed and inviting him to join me. He was on top of me in no time, ramming that enormous dick of his hard up my pussy!
You have no idea how he filled me! I tried to hold it back for as long as possible as it felt so bloody good. Then he started cumming inside me.
When I felt his hot seed in my pussy I screamed my bloody head off in orgasm. At first I think I scared the guard… until I told him he had just made me cum and cum loudly. I think he appreciated my enthusiasm.
A couple moments later I heard a similar scream of ecstasy coming from my sister’s bedroom. I smiled inwardly, knowing she was probably getting it just as good as I had just gotten it! We must have been the luckiest sisters on the entire island!!
The two guards finally left, so my sister and I headed back out to the pool to cool off. This time we didn’t even bother wearing our suits. I figured there was no need, considering we were probably going to be hanging within a few days anyway. What was the point of being so modest when we were going to be dead soon?!
As it got later in the evening the lights came on to the pool area. A couple more guards showed up, so my sister and I playfully invited them to join us for a swim. When they got naked I saw to our delight that we had another couple of big cocks to play with – eight or nine inches each at least!
I let my man grope my tits before going down and sucking his big dick underwater. I gagged up huge bubbles, which I think he liked very much. Then he turned me around and gave me a good, hard fucking from behind.
I loved it so much that I lowered my head into the water and blew bubbles for him as he gave me a good, hard fucking with that big dick of his. It’s a good thing I was underwater because it soon crested inside me until I couldn’t hold it back anymore. Then I screamed my orgasm underwater with a massive eruption of bubbles as he filled me with his hot seed.
I lifted my head up out of the water and got my breath back, only to observe my sister lying naked on a cushioned patio lounger. She was really getting a pounding by the guard she was taking on. “Oh Dorothy; it feels so GOOD!” she cried out. Then she screamed in orgasm as he let out a loud cry of release.
After that we both became pretty popular with the guards. We entertained them day and night, sucking and fucking until we ended up with screaming orgasms. Then we started taking them on in twos and threes.
One afternoon I took three cocks out by the pool while my sister watched. I had one in my mouth and one in my pussy as I stretched out on the guard below me. Then another one entered my arse from behind, really stretching me!
For a moment it hurt like bloody hell. But the pain soon gave way to sheer bliss knowing I was taking on three big black cocks all at once. I rocketed off into heaven, screaming my orgasms over and over again while my jealous sister watched in awe.
When they were finally finished with me I found myself panting madly for breath. I guess sis was so jealous that she called them all over to her so she could start sucking and stroking those three big cocks. Watching her take on all that big, black meat was such a turn-on!!
Soon she was on all fours, sucking on the dick in front while taking one in her pussy from behind doggy-style. Then the third guard wanted her ass. So the one in her pussy stretched out on the patio lounger on his back while my sister climbed aboard and impaled herself on his meat. Then the third one slowly pushed into her arse until all three had her the same way they had just enjoyed me.
At first she screamed bloody murder trying to take on all those huge cocks. Then she started screaming with joy. “BLOODY HELL; I’M CUMMING!” she shrieked, and her cries were so loud I swear she disturbed the whole compound with her screams of ecstasy.
It was like that for seven fun-filled days. We took all the cock we could handle, drank champagne by the gallon, and feasted on caviar as well as the finest foods on the island. We acted like sluts but were treated like queens. It was seven glorious days.
On the eighth day the general came to us with a sad face. He told us the negotiations had not gone anywhere and that he was going to have to hang us to make his point as to how serious he was. I told him I’d been expecting this and was fully prepared to go to the gallows.
I made one small request, asking that he spare my sister. “Oh no!” she declared. “I’m with you ‘til the end, love! If you’re going to hang then I’m going to hang too!”
“Then it’s settled ladies,” the general told us solemnly. “You will hang nude late this afternoon out in the public courtyard. There will be cameras recording this for all the world to see just how serious we are. Now, do you have any last requests before the hanging?”
“Only one,” I giggled impishly. “Could the guards pay us one last visit?”
“Dorothy!!??” my sister blurted out in dismay. “Slut to the end, eh?” Then she laughed, telling the general to make sure she got a couple of the good ones for herself as well.
“You are very brave, ladies,” he told us as he stood up. “You shall be buried with the finest military honors as deserving such bravery and gallantry.”
“All for a couple of sluts?” I asked innocently.
“Yes, ladies; all for a couple of sluts!” he laughed. Then we were dismissed.
We went back to our rooms, ate a great lunch and then headed to the pool naked for one last swim. Sure enough, the guards started showing up. They loved us and told us how sad they were going to be once we hung in the courtyard. I just told them to enjoy our noose-dance and to imagine our naked bodies fucking them while we strangled to death.
My sister gasped in alarm at the mental image I had just painted for her. But I just chuckled at her, telling her I’d warned her but that she just wouldn’t listen. “Then I guess we’ll BOTH hang as sluts!” she replied, sounding a lot braver than I think she felt.
We swam and played and fucked and frolicked, sucking all the cock we could handle until it was time for us to report for our hanging. We both had cum dripping out of our holes, but neither one of us cared all that much. We’d been drinking and fucking ourselves silly, so what difference would it make? We were going to end up dead anyway!
We went willingly, a couple of cum-dripping whores as the guards marched us naked out into the courtyard where we saw a gallows had been erected. But instead of a cross beam, there were two posts with two poles jutting out in front. A couple of wheels or valves were attached to the back of each post, and I wondered what purpose those were to serve. We were soon to find out.
A couple of cameras were set up as we were marched over to the steps. All the guards were in attendance along with the remaining hostages. There were eight girls we had failed to rescue, which made me feel bad for them. But I hoped maybe someone else would come in the next few days and help set them free.
The general was there in full dress uniform as we were marched up the steps. Then we took our places in front of each dangling noose. But strangely there was no trap door… and there wasn’t a stool to stand upon either!
Our wrists were bound behind our backs and the nooses were looped around our necks. “This is crazy, love,” my sister murmured in a trembling voice.
“I know,” I replied, “but it’ll all be over soon.”
“Are you scared or excited?”
“Both, love… and I just wet myself.” I could actually feel piss and cum trickling down the inside of my legs.
“Me too,” she added with a grim nod of her head. But I think she found it somewhat amusing considering we were about to hang despite the fact we were both totally nude and humiliated from the cum dripping out of our well-fucked holes.
“Do the prisoners have any last words?” the general asked us. I could tell by the tone in his voice he actually seemed a little sorry to see us hang.
“We are here of our own free will!” I called out in a trembling voice. Then I looked out at the guards standing at attention and smiled at them all.
“I love each and every one of you lads! Thanks for a great week of sucking and fucking! I don’t know how many orgasms I’ve enjoyed, but I thank you all! Now enjoy watching how a couple of sluts hang for your pleasure!!”
There was a loud “HURRAH!” until the general turned and glared angrily at them, causing them all to settle right down. I looked over at the prisoners and saw some of the women staring at us in astonishment. Then I heard my sister speak…
“It’s been a bloody good week for me too, sir. I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard! Now I stand here willing to hang with my sister, so I guess that makes me a slut too!” Her voice was trembling as she spoke, but she was acting rather brave about the whole thing.
“Executioners?” the general demanded with a nod and a wave of his hand. Two guards in hoods stepped behind us to those tall posts where they each grabbed onto those big wheels. “Me first,” I heard my sister breathe to the guard behind her. That’s when I got the shakes something fierce.
“BEGIN!” the general barked. That’s when I wet myself again, my knees nearly buckling. Then I heard this cranking sound, and. I turned to see the executioner behind my sister’s pole turning the wheel that was attached back there.
I watched in awe as the noose tightened around her neck. She gawked as she was pulled up onto her toes. Then she was pulled up off the floor of the gallows, her executioner continuing to crank until she was elevated a good two feet off the floor!
She gawked as she started to kick, and that’s when it swelled within me. Then I heard the cranking sound behind me. My executioner was cranking my noose up…taking me up into the air to join my sister!
I gasped for breath as the noose tightened. I was pulled up onto my toes, my feet fluttering for the floor of the gallows. Then I was in the air with my sister, my legs pedaling like crazy.
The two of us exploded in a frenzy of kicks and jerks as we instinctively fought our nooses. Down on the ground I saw several guards eyeing us hungrily. At least three of the woman prisoners looked like they were actually touching themselves watching us hang to death!
We bumped into each other as our bodies spun wildly. I kicked like crazy; it hurt like bloody hell! Only then did I question the sanity of the decision I had made to travel to Jamaica! But by then it was much too late.
A drop would have been quicker… would have set the nooses and strangled us faster. But I guess the general wanted to make examples of us. So we slowly kicked our lives away, rasping and gurgling as we twisted and spun in place.
I could see it in the faces of the guards watching us as I danced and jerked and kicked my life away. I couldn’t help throwing my hips outward as though trying to air-fuck those glorious cocks hiding behind those growing bulges. It was a dying woman’s dream come true making all those men so horny!
Sis’s knees came up, and she started bunny-hopping in orgasm. Despite my agony it was so arousing that it triggered my own climax. I glurked and gurgled as I danced and jerked in the nose, pleased to see a couple of growing stains in the trousers of some of our guards.
I heard a loud splatter as my sister’s bladder suddenly gave way beneath her. Piss ran down her legs and off her toes as her feet fluttered. Then I lost control of mine a few seconds later. The two of us twisted and swayed, piss dripping off our feet as the nooses choked off our ability to breathe.
Sis went first, her feet suddenly fluttering in a last attempt to get any air. Then there was a death rattle that emanated from her throat. It triggered a quiet little orgasm within me as my own feet fluttered. Then I hung limp as my bladder released again, allowing another stream of piss to dribble down my legs.
We hung there quietly, our bodies twisting and swaying until our hearts stopped beating. The general then dismissed his guards as well as the prisoners. There were quiet murmurs, some of the guards commenting on how exciting it was while others lamented they would no longer have our pussies and arses to enjoy.
We were left to hang there until sundown when four guards came to cut us down. We were cleaned up and then put into a couple of fancy dresses and heels neither one of us had even seen in our closets while we were staying there. Then we were formally buried side by side. It certainly was a shock to my family when they found out how I had died over in Jamaica with my sister!
After that the world was forced to take them seriously. But negotiations were still a problem. What was amazing was the number of females who started volunteering to come to the compound in the weeks and months ahead!
They came in twos and threes, apparently to enjoy all the wining and dining and fucking they could get for a week. Then they were hung in the public courtyard. The rest of the prisoners were eventually set free, although three of them stayed behind and ultimately offered themselves to be fucked and hung for the appointed week.
After a while the negotiations sort of died off. But the women kept volunteering to come to Jamaica to hang for the general and his guards. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think my sister and I would start something so crazy as a week of sucking and fucking and hanging at the compound in Jamaica… all over some stupid reparations…
© 2016 (inspired by and written for Dorothy Jan 3 ’16 by riwa)
Posted in Asphyxia Stories, Dorothy and her friends
Tagged graphic sex, hanging, nudity, oral sex
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Clogged intake
(recently edited with a size increase of nearly 600+ words)
A quick look confirmed the worst: the irrigation pipe was clogged again! Very little water was being pumped out and she could hear a groan in the pumping machinery. That meant there was a good chance of stripping gears or losing the motor entirely! It was probably a good thing she was passing by and had decided to check on it when she did.
Amanda sighed heavily as she slipped out of her blouse and shorts. She almost removed her bra and panties, but thought better of it. She figured it would be just her luck for one of the hired men to come by and spot her. But today she wasn’t interested in turning anyone on, much less being a tease wearing something provocative.
She tossed her blouse and shorts aside before kicking off her sneakers. Then she waded into the chilly waters of the pond. The only way to discover the problem was to go down and investigate… and she figured she could hold her breath long enough to ascertain the problem.
One deep breath and then she dove for the bottom, approximately 9 or 10 feet down. The intake would be somewhere on the bottom… probably clogged again! She’d need to clean the screen if they were to get a free flow of water out of the irrigation pipe on the other end.
It got darker and murkier as she pulled herself downward. She soon found the pipe, easily following it down hand over hand. She knew it would take her right to the screen covering the intake, even if it required her to feel her way more than being able to see.
She found the screen with her hand, burbling in resignation as she started brushing the silt and moss aside. Sure enough; it was clogged again. Amanda heard a distinct chug from the pump motor as more water started to flow, indicating a definite increase in suction through the pump.
She found a clump of debris – probably from that windstorm last week. She grabbed a handful and gave it a pull. A moment later it came free with a schlooping sound. Almost immediately she felt a stronger flow as more water was pulled through the screen to the intake valve.
Amanda heard the little warning in the back of her head. But she all but ignored it as she knelt to brush a hand over the screen one last time, making sure the intake was completely free of foreign objects. That’s when she felt a tug as her long brown hair was suddenly pulled into the screen, yanking her head down!
She grunted and burbled, instantly cursing her stupidity. It was always better to shut the damn pump down first. But sometimes she couldn’t get it started again for some reason, and she wanted to avoid the hassle.
On a hot, summer day like today the idea of a quick swim was so enticing that she hadn’t even given it a second thought. Now she burbled in alarm as she was pulled down onto her side. She could feel her head being pulled tight against the screen to the damned intake!
She cried out in horror as she began twisting and squirming, desperately trying to pull herself free. She managed to pull her head an inch or two away, only to be jerked back hard against the screen as the intake hungrily tried to gobble down her flowing strands.
Her heart hammered in her chest as she realized just how badly she’d screwed up. She hadn’t thought it could even get this bad; now she was in real trouble! If she didn’t pull away in time she was going to drown from some really stupid accident!
The pump began to whine as her head and hair clogged the screen to the intake. She strained with all her might and was able to pull her head away another inch or two. But unfortunately it was just enough for the pump to recover, sucking her hair back through and pulling her head hard against the mesh of the screen.
Amanda cursed herself again… “DAMMIT! HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SO STUPID?!” She flailed with her arms as her lungs began to burn, air bubbling out past her lips. Hell, they might even find her down here until someone came to find out why the pump wasn’t working so well… and that might not be for a couple of days!!
How long could she hold her breath down here before her lungs gave out? How long had it already been? It probably didn’t matter; she’d be dead either way before anyone would find her. After all, she’d looked all around to make sure she was alone before wading in and diving down.
Her lungs spasmed as panic welled up inside her. She tried to force it back down; she could still get out of this if she didn’t succumb to the growing fear. The first order of business was getting the hell away from the damned screen!
She reached back with her hands, found the intake and slowly pushed against it. Her head began to move away from the screen; at the same time she felt the corresponding increase of suction as she pulled away from the opening. She felt her hair streaming into the mesh of the screen, and she swallowed the growing panic that threatened to overwhelm her. It was as though the damned pump wanted to drown her by sucking her hair and holding her in place!!
Her lungs heaved painfully in her chest, causing her 36 C’s to bounce in the murky water. She’d just turned 19, but she damned sure wasn’t going to make it to 20 unless she could pull her hair out! Now she wished one of her father’s hired hands had seen her go down into the pond!
In the past few months she’d gotten her fair share of appreciative whistles over her figure. But she wasn’t the least bit offended. They always seemed eager to help the coed in her summer agricultural internship duties there at the ranch, regardless of what she was doing at the time.
Now she wished one of them was around right… wished one of them had seen her dive in. They might not get to her in time to keep her from drowning, but they could sure as hell get her back up in time to revive her stupid ass! Now they were all going to attend her funeral and mourn her loss!
“Don’t think like that!” she told herself despite the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. “You’re going to get yourself out of here so fight, damn you!” Then she burbled again as water crawled up her nose and stung her sinuses something fierce, forcing her to try to ignore the powerful urge to give up and just inhale.
She struggled to pull her head away from the intake, only to find herself in a stalemate with the pump. She couldn’t seem to move any further away from it, but it wasn’t sucking her hair all the way back into the intake. It was a Mexican standoff, but time was not on her side as she could not continue holding her breath much longer.
She felt tears of sorrow well up in her eyes. She didn’t want to die like this, didn’t want to be found this way with her hair blocking the intake to the pump. That would be humiliating as hell being found in her bra and panties after burning out the pump… which was something she was trying to avoid by diving into the pond to clear the intake in the first place!
She lost a massive burst of air as her lungs burned with a fiery intensity. She felt a jolt of panic, sensing she was approaching the point of no return. If she didn’t do something fast, her strength was going to fade and her head was going to get sucked back against the screen to the intake. Then she would be too weak to pull away any more and would drown down here for sure!
With a mighty effort and a burst of adrenaline, she pushed herself away from the intake, praying her hair wasn’t already too entangled in the mesh of the screen. She suddenly came free, shaking her head to confirm her hair was not entangled. She found the muddy bottom with her feet and pushed off for the surface with all the energy she had left.
Bubbles streamed out of her mouth and nose as she clawed for the surface. She stared upward as she saw it getting lighter and lighter, burbling wildly as she forced herself to hold her breath one second more… and then one second more… and then one more after that. But it seemed so far away…
And then she was at the surface, gasping and sputtering as she pulled great gulps of air into her tortured lungs. She thought she felt a faint pull below her… as though the intake wasn’t through with her. Amanda let out a strangled cry and then swam like hell for the side of the pond.
She found the bottom underneath her and stood up, frantically wading out and then collapsing in a heap on the muddy bank. She gasped madly for breath as though unable to believe she’d survived that at all! Then she started crying unashamedly.
She spent a few minutes thanking God for her miraculous survival despite her unbelievable stupidity. Then she stood up, retrieved her clothes and began pulling them on over her still damp undergarments.
When she was dressed she slowly made her way back to her car she’d parked a short distance away. But the whole time she kept on muttering to herself, perhaps to drive the point home just how stupid she’d been…
“What were you thinking? Do you KNOW how STUPID that was?? Don’t you ever – and I mean EVER – jump back into that pond again without first turning off that damn pump! I don’t care HOW hot it gets or how nice of a swim you want! Next time you won’t be so lucky, you crazy-assed bitch…!”
© 2005 (written for JQ public Dec 19 ’05; ed. Jan 18 ‘16 by riwa)
Posted in Jqpublic Stories, Underwater Stories
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Frankie’s Latex Session
(edited and reposted)
“Come now, Frankie,” Mistress said to her plaything. “Have a seat, my precious little pet. Time for us to have another little ‘session’.” Then she pulled her toward the contraption by the back of her head.
It was something of a metal lawn chair only the back cushion had been removed. An inflated air pillow sat in its place with cuffs for her play-toy’s wrists attached to the wire frame. A sheet of red latex lay draped over the back of it, causing Frankie to shiver at the reason for its presence.
Mistress had stripped her down, leaving her in a blue spandex thong with white edging. Frankie also wore black gloves, with white stockings that crawled up her legs. As it turned out, it was virtually the same outfit her mistress was wearing.
Frankie’s nipples were hard as she trembled with anticipation. The cuffs were a clear indication her movements would be restricted. And the presence of the latex sheet was ominous.
She knew it would probably be something along the lines of breath-play. Her mistress LOVED that particular fetish and enjoyed subjecting her submissive to her kinky whims. “Sit down, bitch!” Mistress ordered, and Frankie reluctantly but obediently took a seat. At least there was a cushion on the bottom of the wire chair, and she would be allowed to sit with her back to the air pillow.
Mistress immediately began attaching the cuffs to her wrists, connecting her to the chair. Oddly enough she was not being secured by anything else. Frankie wondered why her restraints were limited. Still, she wasn’t going anywhere as she was certainly being secured to the chair.
“There,” Mistress cooed at her. “That’s MUCH better! Don’t you think so, my little pet?” She smirked with wicked glee as she finished securing the right wrist.
Frankie found herself trembling again, unsure of the plans Mistress had for her. She sensed she would be made breathless again as the plastic latex sheet behind her was pretty much a dead giveaway. Mistress was known for her benevolence, but she was also known for her sadistic cruelty. Frankie couldn’t help whimpering in spite of herself.
“What’s the matter, baby?” Mistress purred, slowly running a gloved hand lasciviously over Frankie’s quivering mounds. “My pet certainly seems excited about all this!” Then she laughed cruelly, causing Frankie to shiver yet again.
“Don’t you trust me?” Mistress chuckled as she moved behind the chair, gathering the latex sheet into her hands. “Perhaps it’s just as well that you DON‘T!” And with a cruel laugh she flipped the latex over and pulled it tight against Frankie’s mouth.
“MMMMMMMPH!”
The blonde started struggling in spite of herself as her hands instinctively came up to save her. But the restraints held them at bay. She could barely breathe through her nose, but she knew that would soon change once Mistress decided she was to be allowed no breath at all.
Every time her air was cut off it scared her despite the knowledge that her mistress loved playing breath-games with her. It caused her pussy to gush something fierce as her nipples protruded almost painfully. For Frankie it was an unexplainable mixture of fear and pleasure, something for which she had absolutely no answer as to why her body always reacted the way it did.
Fortunately in this instance the latex hadn’t covered her nose… yet. Frankie snorted through her nostrils in a frantic effort to keep her lungs filled. But unfortunately for her, her Mistress quickly noticed the little slip-up in her technique…
“Oh, my!” the woman exclaimed as she leaned over the body of her squirming play-toy. “I left your nose open; how silly of me!” Then she giggled like a little schoolgirl. “You’re not supposed to be able to breathe at all! Why this will NEVER do!”
She relaxed her grip on the latex, causing Frankie to gasp for breath through her mouth. But a moment later Mistress pulled the sheet of latex tight over the blonde’s entire head. This time Frankie got no air at all…
“MMMMMMMMPH!”
She tried to scream but all that came out was a muffled cry. A moment later she tried to inhale, only to suck part of the latex into her opened mouth. In an instant Frankie’s body exploded, writhing in the chair…
…and then the latex was pulled away from her mouth, leaving her gasping madly for breath.
“Gawd, baby!” Mistress gasped behind her. “Do you know how HOT it makes me to see you struggle so? Struggle for me, my precious little pet!” And with that she brought the sheet up against Frankie’s face again.
“UUUUUUNNNNNGGGHHHH!”
Once more Frankie started struggling, her body writhing instinctively for breath as her legs kicked wildly. She tried to exhale but the latex refused to relent; she tried inhaling but was only able to pull the latex tight against her lips. This time the material stayed in place even longer, causing her more torment as she was forced to hold her breath longer while reflexively bucking her hips upward.
Mistress knelt over her, pushing a breast onto the top of the poor woman’s head as her own pussy throbbed excitedly. “Struggle for me, Frankie!” she gasped, her sadism showing through as she tormented her submissive. “C’mon, bitch; FIGHT ME! Try to inhale, you little WHORE! I LOVE it when you struggle!”
She gasped with delight as the poor thing kicked and thrashed about. Securing only the wrists had been a wonderful decision as it allowed the entire body to wriggle around so deliciously. What a thrill to see Frankie fight and struggle just to try taking in a single breath!
She abruptly pulled the latex off her submissive’s head, allowing Frankie to gasp wildly for breath. The poor thing swallowed great gulps of air into her heaving lungs. The smell of her arousal coming from her wet crotch was palpable as her body trembled and shook, her nipples oh-so-deliciously hard.
“What’s the matter, baby?” Mistress purred seductively, her mood softening again as she slowly walked around in front of the chair. “Did I scare you; hmmmmm?” Then she leaned in close, smirking at the frightened woman as Frankie whimpered plaintively
“Awwww… you poor widdow ting…! Let me give you something to help calm you down.”
Frankie felt something long, slender and buzzing being slipped into her thong. “Now you can REALLY cum for me,” Mistress chuckled as she lunged forward the latex in her hand. Then once again she covered the face of her frightened play-toy.
Frankie involuntarily let out a “NOOO!” before the material pressed hard over her face. She grunted in alarm as the buzzing reached her sensitive nub. Then her hands came up again reflexively in a frantic attempt to pull the latex off her face.
She twisted and struggled against the hands holding the latex to her face, the buzzing driving her insane as her inability to breathe terrified her. A moment later Frankie felt her Mistress push against her. Then she experienced what felt like Mistress’ tongue on her face. Was the crazy bitch LICKING HER??!!
She grunted from the fear and arousal of the whole thing, her lungs heaving like crazy. A moment later she let out another muffled cry as the object buzzing within her thong drove her over the edge. She climaxed violently, totally soaking her thong.
Mistress went on licking the face of her squirming play-toy, gasping with an ecstatic cry of “YEAH, BABY! SUFFOCATE FOR ME, YOU FUCKIN’ SLUT! CUM FOR ME!” Then she was experiencing an orgasm of her own, shuddering from a wonderful release of intense sexual satisfaction.
Frankie started to come down from her climax, only to discover she still couldn’t breathe. The latex remained tightly wrapped around her head, puffing on her face in a futile manner as she tried to inhale… tried to exhale… tried to pull in a desperate breath. A moment later the panic overcame her in a rush, and she started bucking and thrashing about in the chair again, frantic for another breath of air as that toy buzzed relentlessly against her crotch.
“Yeah, baby… FIGHT ME!” Mistress exclaimed, once more overwhelmed by her sadistic, domineering side. “STRUGGLE, YOU FUCKIN’ WHORE… FIGHT ME! TRY TO BREATHE!”
NOOOOOO! …and Frankie fought and bucked in a frantic effort to pull any amount of air into her tortured lungs. A moment later she climaxed again – fiery and explosive. She bucked and thrashed about until the latex sheet was finally removed from her face, allowing her to gulp great gasps of air down her heaving lungs.
“You all right, baby?” Mistress purred softly, sounding all compassionate and caring again.
Frankie nodded weakly as she gasped for breath. “Good,” Mistress said as she climbed off and slowly made her way around to the back of the chair. Then she leaned over her trembling play-toy, only to whisper seductively into her ear, “Now we get to do it all over again.”
Once more she sadistically brought the sheet down over the face of her helpless victim. Frankie let out another frightened cry that was quickly muffled as she began to struggle in the chair yet again. Mistress leaned over her and laughed as her hair hung down over her face.
“Baby, you are sooooo fuckin’ SEXY when you’re all breathless… did you know that?” Then her excitement overcame her as she enthusiastically declared, “C’MON, WHORE; LET’S SEE WHAT YOU GOT! GOT ANOTHER CUM IN THERE FOR YOUR MISTRESS??”
She tightened her grip on the latex sheet, smothering her submissive. “C’MON, BITCH; CUM FOR ME! IT’S SUCH A TURN-ON! MAKE ME CUM FROM YOUR BREATHELESS STRUGGLES!” Then she threw her head back and laughed with sadistic glee as Frankie once more started to buck and thrash about in the chair, wondering if her mistress would grant her another breath… or if she might cruelly allow her to pass out only to start it all back up again…
© 2008; 2015 (written Mar 1 ’08; ed. Jan 11 ’15 by riwa)
(Pictures are from latexangelic.com and are for illustration purposes only.)
Posted in Asphyxia Stories, Picture Stories
Tagged bondage, forced orgasms, pictures, sex toys, topless
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