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Description

  The Halloween party raged on well into the night, the boys celebrating their team’s victory in the big game. None of them had noticed Kirk had left the party with the goth girl dressed up as the nurse. He had been really laying on his best lines the whole night but hadn’t realized he had been the prey, not the predator, in this particular game. His friends cursed him for running off and hogging her all to themselves. If they walked out of the bar and circled to the area in the back, though, they would find the two. Kirk squirmed and his fingers clawed at the intense cord cutting into his windpipe and collapsing his adams apple into the back of his trachea. She had prepared a knot in the cord, ensuring that the choking would be focused on his trachea. Ensuring he would struggle for life for minutes rather than mere seconds, has carotid arteries free to carry increasingly poisonous blood to his brain. It was absurd, a guy losing a fight to a girl who was shorter than him even in red platform heels, but here he was.

  He had thrown her off in the beginning, three or four times, but she always leapt right back on, her perfect legs squeezing at his midsection, the thigh highs covered in runs from his fingers clawing at them. The focused strangle on his windpipe had transformed his voice box into hamburger and he couldn’t call for help, even after the first time, to the friends on the other side of the wall. The music continued to shake through the ground, his friends' voices drifting on the night air. He pulled towards the wall, hoping one would come around the corner, see him, save him, but was jerked right back against her. No more energy, he had just the one chance to free himself. Already the black roses bloomed at the corners of his darkening vision as his neurons began to overfill with cellular trash, no oxygen in sight to carry it away. He lifted the chortling little goth girl up and ran back against the wall, slamming her hard. Yet all his feverishly hot ears heard were giggles. She pulled the garrote tighter, grinding herself against the back of his neck as he fell to his knees.

  Six minutes which had seemed like an eternity. The goth girl smiled down at her work, watching his big hands paw at her thighs, slipping across the silky milk white skin and stockings, helplessly. Like trying to climb out of the frigid waters of a frozen over lake only for one’s hands to slip, helpless, across the smooth ice. Allison’s favored methods never failed her, even against the bigger guys. Proper wrestling always came down to technique and with her black belts in Jiu Jutsu and Aikido she was usually more than a match for the average guy with no training. He fell still and she held him against her sex, her loins throbbing from the aggressive battle. She let out some controlled breaths and, after two more minutes, released the fully brain dead husk to crash to the ground. Thirty five hundred dollars in her account and a politician learning, the hard way, not to trifle with the wrong people. Allison headed back into the party. She would see if his two friends would be down for a threesome. They seemed sort of guys willing to double stuff a girl if enough alcohol got involved. Not gay if the balls don’t touch, as they say. She could use the release after all the foreplay.

Description

  The Halloween party raged on well into the night, the boys celebrating their team’s victory in the big game. None of them had noticed Kirk had left the party with the goth girl dressed up as the nurse. He had been really laying on his best lines the whole night but hadn’t realized he had been the prey, not the predator, in this particular game. His friends cursed him for running off and hogging her all to themselves. If they walked out of the bar and circled to the area in the back, though, they would find the two. Kirk squirmed and his fingers clawed at the intense cord cutting into his windpipe and collapsing his adams apple into the back of his trachea. She had prepared a knot in the cord, ensuring that the choking would be focused on his trachea. Ensuring he would struggle for life for minutes rather than mere seconds, has carotid arteries free to carry increasingly poisonous blood to his brain. It was absurd, a guy losing a fight to a girl who was shorter than him even in red platform heels, but here he was.

  He had thrown her off in the beginning, three or four times, but she always leapt right back on, her perfect legs squeezing at his midsection, the thigh highs covered in runs from his fingers clawing at them. The focused strangle on his windpipe had transformed his voice box into hamburger and he couldn’t call for help, even after the first time, to the friends on the other side of the wall. The music continued to shake through the ground, his friends' voices drifting on the night air. He pulled towards the wall, hoping one would come around the corner, see him, save him, but was jerked right back against her. No more energy, he had just the one chance to free himself. Already the black roses bloomed at the corners of his darkening vision as his neurons began to overfill with cellular trash, no oxygen in sight to carry it away. He lifted the chortling little goth girl up and ran back against the wall, slamming her hard. Yet all his feverishly hot ears heard were giggles. She pulled the garrote tighter, grinding herself against the back of his neck as he fell to his knees.

  Six minutes which had seemed like an eternity. The goth girl smiled down at her work, watching his big hands paw at her thighs, slipping across the silky milk white skin and stockings, helplessly. Like trying to climb out of the frigid waters of a frozen over lake only for one’s hands to slip, helpless, across the smooth ice. Allison’s favored methods never failed her, even against the bigger guys. Proper wrestling always came down to technique and with her black belts in Jiu Jutsu and Aikido she was usually more than a match for the average guy with no training. He fell still and she held him against her sex, her loins throbbing from the aggressive battle. She let out some controlled breaths and, after two more minutes, released the fully brain dead husk to crash to the ground. Thirty five hundred dollars in her account and a politician learning, the hard way, not to trifle with the wrong people. Allison headed back into the party. She would see if his two friends would be down for a threesome. They seemed sort of guys willing to double stuff a girl if enough alcohol got involved. Not gay if the balls don’t touch, as they say. She could use the release after all the foreplay.