Kinktober 26 - Crazy

CONTENT NOTE:  Graphic murder, implied necrophilia.


Lana

Feeling slightly unsteady, Lana headed for the club's restroom, hoping there wouldn't be a queue; though what she found was even more irritating:  an out of order sign.  She started to think about what to next, whether the club had anything else set up... but had only a few moments to do so before she was grabbed from behind; an arm was around her chest, pinning her, a sweet-smelling cloth was clamped over her face, and her attacker's weight was hustling her forward and through the door into the restroom.  Chloroform... it was chloroform... a part of her fading consciousness wonderred if the sign had been put up by her attacker to make sure the restroom was deserted for this abduction.

She tried to plead through the smothering rag, but only a few feeble mmphs got through.
Her attacker responded, as if understanding her.  "Hey I'm Sonja.  Nothing personal; you just saw the wrong people together so you have to go.  But don't worry; there's time for us to have some fun first."
Who had she seen?  What was this about?  But Lana didn't have a chance to even try asking the question before everything went black.

Stephy

The night was lovely; just the right level of cool, with a hint of rain that wasn't quite enough to actually get Stephy wet.  The perfect night for a walk through the scenic parts of town.  Very few people were about, but as she passed beside the park, she saw a motorhome near the entrance, with a dark haired girl in the process of locking or unlocking its door.  "Hi," Stephy said brightly.
"Hi," the other girl said in a lower tone.  "Nice night, huh?"
"Sure," Stephy replied.  "Are you heading into the park?"
"I was.  But then what I was looking for walked right up to me."

"What-" Stephy started to ask.  But then the other girl was on her, knocking her over by sheer momentum; landing atride her, and knocking all the wind out of her.  Her hands locked around Stephy's throat and she started to squeeze.  For a few seconds panic overtook Stephy, before she began to claw at the other girl's arms and face; but it was too late... her throat hurt too much, her vision was blurring, her-

Wendy

Wendy was halfway out of the car when she realised her security light hadn't come on; even though she knew it was probably a fault with the bulb, she tensed up and looked back toward the street.  No lights off that shouldn't be; if there was anything up with the power it was her hourse only. She fished her keys out before making for the door at a quick walk, aiming her fob behind her to lock the car.  Despite her care, the attack came before she registered the intruder's presence.

A hand caught her outstretched wrist yanking her off balance, while an arm snaked round her throat, cutting off her air, and silencing her as effectively as if it had covered her mouth.  Wendy ducked down, then forced herself up, trying to break free; but her attacker adjusted their grip, locking their grip in place.  She reached up trying to pull the arm free, but the attacker was too strong; she tried to claw with the keys, arm or face, but her attacker's clothing was too thick and the metal teeth only reached empty air behind her.

She was losing air, losing strength; her awareness was starting to swim.  Desperately she tried to kick or jab her elbows backwards, but her attacker had all the leverage and positioning.  Wendy's arms finally dropped to her sides, and her legs began to buckle.  In her ear, she heard a female voice whisper, "Sorry Wendy; there are people who need that inheritance more than you do."  As darkness overtook her, the voice added, "At least more than you're gonna."

Sonja

Sonja gave up waiting and slapped Lana's face until her eyes stirred.  "Welcome back," she said, smirking as Lana gradually became aware of her condition; tied spreadeagled on the floor of the van, gagged, naked.  Sonja squatted down next to her.  "I said we'd have time for some fun," she added.
Lana's eyes widened, and she let out a muffled sound; Sonja wasn't sure if it was question or plea.
She responded by squeezing Lana's mound with her left hand, then jabbing two fingers between her captive's labia.  With her other hand she cupped and rolled Lana's breast.

Lana made a frantic noise, trying to shift away from Sonja's groping hands; but her bonds held her in place, allowing her on;y a writhing that delighted her captor.
"You're enjoying this as much as me?" Sonja asked, deliberately misinterpreting the movement.
Lana let out another muted mewl.
"Fine fine fine," Sonja said.  "You want something more solid than my fingers to get you wet."  She fished the knife out of her belt and a coin out of her pocket and held them up before Lana's widened eyes.  "Heads you get the blade," she said; "tails the hilt."

As Lana tried to scream round her gag, Sonja tossed her coin.  She wasn't disappointed at it coming up tails; the hilt would hurt pretty well too.  She angled the weapon to Lana's opening as her captive thrashed from side to side trying to escape what was coming; then she rammed it in, eliciting another scream.  She worked it back and forth, Lana's whimpers telling her how hard it was scraping the walls of her passage; in response, Sonja's own pussy was getting wet, and she slid her free hand into her pants and began to finger herself, lips and clit.

It didn't take her long; violating a target just before the kill was the greatest feeling she knew, and her moans were soon accompanying Lana's gagged cries.  Her orgasm was bittersweet, though, as it marked the point where she had to get back to business.  "You were great," she said to Lana; "I'll make it quick for you."  Pulling the knife sharply out of Lana's passage, Sonja spun it in her hand till she was holding the hilt, then plunged it into Lana's chest, severing her aorta.  The woman gasped and choked for a few minutes, drowned by her own death, then her eyes grew still and flat.

Fawn

"If you were still alive, I guess you'd be wondering what this is all about," Fawn said as she dragged the girl's body into the motor home and began to strip her; "and I suppose you're entitled to the explanation even if you can't hear it.  I'm a photographer, and I specialise in a very particular kind of picture for a very particular kind of client.  You're perfect for what I need."  She dragged the now naked girl into the back of the vehicle; the floor and walls there were covered in plastic sheeting, and otherwise contained only a camera.  "We'll get to work soon," Fawn said, "but first I need to take us some place else."  She returned to the front of the motor home, got into the driver's seat and headed away from the park.

Once Fawn had found a good place to work, it was time for the shoot.  She started by laying the girl out on the plastic as if she were asleep, and taking a picture from every angle; then rolling her onto her front and doing the same.  Then spreading her legs; then putting her back on her back, spreading her legs again, and positioning her hands over her breasts.  Then sitting her against the wall; this time spreading her legs was necessary just to keep the girl's body upright... first she posed the girl's arms straight down by her sides, then with her hands on her thighs, then moving one hand to her crotch.  With each pose, she took at least two dozen pictures, capturing her subject from every angle.

Finally she was done; the client would be satisfied with that haul.  Well, apart from one more; the final shot of the girl wherever her body was dumped.  Fawn had already chosen where that would be, and went back to driver's seat to get started.

Dee

Dee fastened the noose around Wendy's neck, careful to make it look as if she could have tied it herself.  Dee suspected Wendy would wake up when she was first hoisted and the presssure on her windpipe kicked in; struggles would make her strangle quicker, though she wasn't sure if would make the cops more or less likely to assume it was a suicide. Fortunately, the construction lot had enough lengths of wood around that she'd be able to fake up something Wendy could have stood on and kicked over.  She took the slack end of the rope and threw it over a beam overhead, then heaved, lifting the other girl's body off the ground.  As she'd expected, Wendy woke and began to thrash; but panic and sudden loss of air would be able to prevent her from doing anything to the knots.  Dee tied the rope off on a protruding shaft of metal, confident that-

"What the fuck?"  A female voice.
Who the fuck?  Dee turned to face the intruding voice, at the same dodging toward the only available cover, Wendy's hanging and strangling form.
A dark-haired woman in sunglasses, carrying another girl, naked, over her shoulder.  She was dodging too, dropping her burden and pulling a gun out as she darted to one side.

The Assassins

From the corner of her eye, Fawn saw the girl hit the ground and roll into a position with her legs splayed out and one arm close to her mound; even under these circumstances, she noted it would make a good final picture for the client.  Then she focussed on the other woman, raising and aiming her weapon.
"Holy crap."  The voice came from her side; she risked a quick glance.  A tall redhead, herself carrying a naked body on her shoulder.  Fawn fired a shot at the first interloper, then turned to face the new threat.

Not fast enough... Dee felt the newcomer's bullet tear though her chest, and she collapsed next to the still thrashing body of her own victim. She tried to lever her arms under her, but her strength gave out.

Sonja tossed Lana aside and made a zig zag run toward the armed woman; she was concentrating on another target, allowing Sonja to close the distance.  She spun into a kick, connecting with the woman's wrist and sending the gun flying.  She followed with an elbow toward her adversary's face, but this time the woman blocked her.

Fawn ducked under the redhead's second punch and slammed a fist into her solar plexus; then a sweep and twist, knocking her to her knees, then down, pinning her with Fawn's weight.  Fawn pulled a garotte from her sleeve and wrapped it round the redhead's neck, yanking it tight. The redhead kicked and bucked, clawing back at her, but there was nothing she could do to stop the loss of air; gradually her struggles slowed and stopped.
Breathing heavily, Fawn got to her feet, only for sudden pain in her side to double her over.  A knife, between her ribs, the redhead's last gasp of revenge; and moving had torn the wound open.  The motorhome; it had medical supplies.  Fawn took a step, then fell to her knees.

Dee watched the Asian woman collapse on to the concrete.  "She got you good, huh?" she called out.
"She's dead, so not that good," came the reply.
"Then you didn't get me good either."
"Depends if you die first; the other bitch dies first, it's a win."
"Bitch," Dee repeated back.
"Skank."
"Cunt."
"Whore."
"Trash."
The Asian didn't answer.  By her logic, that presumably made Dee the winner.  Exept that Wendy was still twitching.  Seriously... in a fight between three assassins, the winner was going to be an already dying victim?  That didn't seem-