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Extreme Sex And Fetish Forum => Fantasy Snuff BOARD => Snuff Story => Topic started by: joyfully on March 25, 2009, 05:04:29 AM

Title: Erika's Last Picture Show
Post by: joyfully on March 25, 2009, 05:04:29 AM
Erika's Last Picture Show

As the thumping music of the club filtered through the doors of the ladie's room, Erika looked at her own dark gaze in the mirror, those dark eyes standing out amidst her pale skin, and almost black hair. Her heart thumped in her chest with the excitement that could only come from an extramarital affair. Yet, despite it, she brushed more purple tinted glitter on the sheen of oil spread across her deep neckline and curved cleavage, giving her 34B breasts a soft squeeze and a push together under the black, silk evening gown. She might not have had much chest to show off, but she showed it well, and the glitter glistened as the light danced across her soft, almost porcelain flesh.

With one final application of lipstick, she pursed her lips, and then smacked them. Two sets of rose petals looked back at her, and her dark eyes sparkled.

She was going to do it. To hell with her husband. If he didn't appreciate her, then she'd find someone who did.

But until then, she'd screw Mr. Blu until he was drained of every drop of cum in him.

* * * * *

Damien Blu loosened his tie, surreptitiously looking around the dance floor. Erika was perfect for what his boss, Mr. Marcus, wanted. He'd told him so, through the tiny earpiece. Blu and Marcus agreed, she'd be perfect for tonight's little film festival. Tall, with long legs, and looking fantastic in her fishnets, high heels, and slinky black dress, when she was brought before the cameras, she'd be a true star.

Until the end of her life.

Too bad, really, he thought. For a married chick, she was pretty damn hot.

* * * * *

When his lips met hers, his tongue lapping the minty sambucca from her mouth, sipping half her mouthfull of the sharp greek drink, her head was spinning as much from the alcoholic buzz as it was from the sensuality of his kiss. She slid one fishnet covered leg between his muscular thighs, her fingers stroking the black silk of his shirt, feeling the rocky wall of muscle that was his chest.

His fingers along her fishnetted thigh drove her wild as he reached up under her skirt, feeling that her hips were bare of any panties. Squirming against him, she planted another crimson kiss on his lips. He smiled at the kiss, licking his lips, then her mint tasting lips, before nuzzling her cleavage, kissing the sleekly oiled bust to the edge of her neckline. His warm breath made her entire body tingle, her legs giving his muscled thigh a squeeze as she stroked through his long, dark mane.

"My god, Erika, you are an amazing woman."

She breathed in softly, enjoying the feel of his hard muscles under his black silk shirt. "I want you so badly..."

"Then let's go back to my place."

She lifted his head from her bust, looking into that dark gaze of his, stroking his long black hair. "Sure. Let's go," she breathed quickly, before she could lose her nerve.

* * * * *

Marcus watched the two go from flirting to fondling to damn near intercourse.
He agreed with his killer's assessment. She was an amazing woman. Absently, he wondered how the glitter on her tits would look, sticking to the blood trickling down her torso from gunshot wounds.

At the suggestion to go back to Blu's place, Marcus, big, burly and bearded, moved like a stealthy bear, cutting through the clubbers and out the back exit, to his awaiting van, sliding behind the wheel.

Turning on a monitor, he watched as the figures of Damien and Erika entered the car, the hidden mini-cameras in the dashboard and from above showing flattering views of Erika's long, slender bare arms, the way her dress hiked up just enough to catch a furry glimpse of her beaver, and the flat plane of her tummy visible through her cleavage.

Marcus drove along, making sure that the footage of the pair was being transmitted to the VCR in the van. Part of the plan to get him to the director's room in time for Erika's $nuff was for them to pull over, and to get some filming time in the car.

Marcus decided he'd pull over close to the warehouse, having raced along, speeding to get as close to home as possible before the blow job began.

And sure enough, transmitted by cellular modem link, the mini-cameras were picking up Erika and Damien starting already. Marcus began his universal hand motion of his approval...

* * * * *

Erika's cummy tingled as the car pulled over onto a deserted stretched of road, one strong hand of Damien's sliding around her 23 inch waist, fingertips stroking the silk and sending jolts of excitement around her spine. She lifted her smooth, round, 35 inch hips, letting him cup his strong hand under her ass and pull her into his lap, where his mouth immediately went to her cleavage, his breath hot and explosive on her oiled skin.

She rolled her head back, enjoying the silken waterfall of her own dark hair tumbling down her neck. She slid her fish-net clad legs around his lap, her delicate hands sliding his fly open and reaching in. He was so hot, and so hard already she had trouble getting him through the opening, but when he was free, he swelled to fill her grip, making her unable to even close her fingers. His tip, already moist with pre-cum, drew her lips down as she slid back, kneeling into the shotgun seat.

As her tongue traced him from the base of his shaft to the glistening, cum-moist helmet, she was being photographed from all angles, her bobbing hips, her rose-red lips, her smooth, arching back. She tasted his hard shaft, tongue playing in the clear cream of pre-cum at his tip, sliding around the slick, swollen member. Then, Erika lowered herself onto him, taking him all the way to the back of her throat, her fingers digging into his thighs as her black hair feel free, silk caressing his flesh. His hips moved in time to her rhythm, and she swallowed, tongue pressing hard on him, teeth scraping his skin and drawing him ever closer to an explosive climax down her throat. Her husband never liked blow jobs, but Damien was truly getting off on this, his head rolling every which way, his testicles rubbing between her fingers.

Suddenly, her mouth was full of him, rivulets of hot semen dribbling over her lips and down her chin, white droplets on his lap, splashing against her breasts. Erika moaned, gulping and swallowing as his fingers locked in her hair. His moan became louder, and somewhat sadder sounding... not the usual relief of an orgasm.

Cum still dripping down onto her breasts, she looked up at him, anticipation in her eyes as he gave her a look.

"What's wrong, Damien?" she asked, licking up his flat, washboard stomach.

"We'd better be moving before a cop comes along," he told her. He swallowed, regretting that she'd have to die tonight. She was a fantastic fuck, and yeah, killing her would give him a buzz to last a few weeks...

It almost seemed a waste, he thought as she started tucking herself back into her dress. As she leaned back, she smiled, putting her long, gorgeous legs up onto the dashboard as she fixed the hem of her dress. Damien leaned in to Erika, sliding the pistol from his waistband as he kissed her, his lips meeting her full, pouting red lips, tongue playing with hers, tasting his own cum.

She didn't even see the flash of silver until the hard steel slammed into the side of her head, knocking her unconscious.

As her head leaned forward, her cum-wet chin touching her chest, her long black hair didn't quite cover her breasts. A perfect end-shot for Marcus to finish filming.

* * * * *

"Welcome to the Slaughterhouse," Damien's voice whispered as her eyes fluttered. Erika's head pounded, and her arms ached as something bit into her wrists. Lifting her head took effort, as her neck ached, and her brain felt like it sloshed around inside of her skull.

Then she opened her eyes, inarticulately grunting, trying to speak, but she hurt too much to make words at first. She breathed deeply, feeling the silk restraining her 34B breasts, and she bit one swollen lip. Damien, she thought it was Damien, was standing there, naked except for a pair of chaps, and a black domino mask, and a gunbelt on.

"H-hey, what the hell?" Erika demanded. She struggled against her bonds, realizing that her hands were cold and needle pricked with blood loss. Around her, she saw the gleaming lenses of a dozen cameras, filming her at all angles, and her heart skipped a beat. This was real. All too real...

Then her eyes stopped on the short, wicked little knife in his hand.

"Oh God... what kinky sh!t is this?" she gasped.

"Well, Erika," Damien began, "Someone has paid me a lot of money to bring a tramp like you back here."

Erika winced at the condemnation, looking down at her half naked form. She didn't even have panties on, and the way she was restrained, her pussy was hanging out from under the hem of her black dress. "F-fuck you..."

Damien stepped closer, twirling the knife slowly. "Then I was to strip you... [email protected] you... and finally shoot you to death."

Erika looked at him, fear widening her dark brown eyes.

"And... I'm not to kill you in anything less than seven shots."

"What?!? Noooo.... please... I'll do anything for you..." Erika sobbed.

Damien grabbed a handfull of hem, slid the knife to the fabric, and began slicing. In one movement, the black silk tore open, freeing her naked, bouncing 34B breasts. His warm hand stroked one full breast as his lips found the other breast's nipple, sucking the teat between his lips and biting down, sending a jolt of sexual pleasure through Erika.

"And just know, Erika," Damien said softly. "You'll be on videotape. So... you won't be truly dead. You'll be immortalized in film."

"B-b-but I didn't sign a release," Erika begged, tears streaking dark mascara down her alabaster cheeks. "And I don't photograph well."

Damien laughed and kissed her full, pouting red lips, stroking her long dark hair, then slid his hand between her legs, feeling her pussy, wet and hot with terror. His member engorged itself, pressed to the soft dark bush, and he grinned, biting her lower lip, and ramming his shaft deep into her waiting cunt.

Erika whimpered, feeling his manhood penetrate her, plunging deep into her. He was so thick, and so powerful, his force unmatched by any other lover she'd ever met, and her pussy twitched around his hardened shaft as he clawed at her soft flesh. He snapped the spaghetti shoulder straps of her black dress as if they were gossamer, letting them fall to the floor as he continued his assault on her luscious loins.

"Man..." Damien panted. "It's a shame he didn't pick one of the other girls to $nuff..."

Erika moaned as he rammed her again and again, her breath coming in short gasps as her arms, stretched out, restricted her breathing.

"I'd have loved to keep you around forever... but five million dollars is five million dollars."

"Uhh.... you can keep me around..." Erika whimpered. "Then we can do this all the time..."

Damien's hands explored her fishnet clad thighs. "Awww... but you're married."

Erika paused, breathing hard, sweat glistening, glinting even shinier with the glitter on her bussom.

"And besides, I kind of get off on raping and killing chicks anyhow."

"Oh god NO! I don't wanna die!" Erika shouted, her heart spiked with fear.

Damien kissed her, then clutched at her thick, brown hair. "Too late."

"Besides, I want to see how that glitter on your tits would look, mixed in with blood."

"No... nonono..... please..."

"Don't worry... it's only a .32... and you'll only be shot seven times..." Damien said.

To prove his point, he took aim, and pulled the trigger. Erika winced and bounced as a pencil-thin lance of flame pierced one breast, right through the nipple, punching between ribs, and lodging in her lung. She jerked hard, feeling like a hammer had slammed into her chest. God... if that was only a .32...

She looked down, morbid curiosity drawing her attention as a small trickle of blood pooled from the breast, trickling down her breast, tickling her tummy as it crawled to her navel, and then down to her bush. Tears slid down Erika's cheeks. He must have enjoyed the little purple sparkles of glitter floating in her blood as she looked back up at him, feeling blood well up and dribble down her nostril.

Somewhere, on the other side of those cameras, she knew someone had just blown a wad, watching her deadly wound take her in the chest. But she knew, it would be a slow wound. A slow kill. Leaving him time to kill her with other shots.

Blam! A second shot tore its way into her flat stomach, and she stiffened and jerked. Blood began to well up in her throat, and she felt like she was hit harder than she was the first time. She looked down, and saw that the shot had hit her exactly in her navel. Blood poured from this wound, darkening her bush, and soaking down her thighs.

Damien stepped forward, and kissed her trembling lips, and Erika was torn between turning from him, and melting into the kiss. Maybe if she gave in to him sexually, she wouldn't feel it. His tongue traced up her chin, and he came away, licking her blood. Erika felt her stomach turn and churn, and she whimpered as something hot seared against her remaining nipple, her undamaged tit being pressed into by the hot barrel of the pistol.

"Oh, please... it hurts so bad!" she pleaded, her legs bicycling around his hips, kicking into the air, her fishnets starting to run, blood spattered on the lace across her thighs.

He slid the pistol down from around her tit to underneath it, and pulled the trigger a third time. This time the shot punched through the mammary flesh, the soft white globe rippling as the bullet punched through it, and out the top, clipping through her long dark hair before imbedding in the ceiling.

Erika cut loose with a groan that faded into a choking cough.

"That's three... four more to go."

Erika rolled her head weakly, streams of her blood running down her right thigh, and then, something hot jammed between her swollen labia. Her head jerked up, her eyes staring into his own, pleadingly.

"Please..." she begins.

The gun speaks before she can finish saying no. The single round explodes through her pussy, making her entire body jerk as her clitoris is blown to shreds by the muzzle blast, the bullet tearing out between her buttocks, blood and urine flowing from her shattered loins.

Erika trembled, barely able to stand, eyes flowing with tears now, her breaths coming hard, coughing up blood with every exhalation. Her heart hammered, and she knew now she was truly doomed. Nobody could survive this kind of merciless damage and live. And yet, he wasn't letting her die. Not yet...

He pushed her fishnets down, and they collapsed off her thighs in pools of black silk, one of her stilletto heeled shoes having fallen off in her struggles. Glitter floated atop the puddle of blood, cum and urine at her feet, and she cried, begging him softly in sobs to let her die.

A fourth shot slammed right into her belly again. Another shot quickly followed that, each bullet feeling like the fist of some angry god smashing her in the gut. She'd sinned... she'd cheated on her husband, and this was her punishment. Damien merely looked at her as her mouth worked inarticulately. Whatever pleadings she gave were simply workings of a mouth over a small splash of blood coming from her lips.

Erika's dark eyes rolled and swooned around her face, blood trickling down her chin, splattering down her throat as her sweat-damp hair matted to her neck. One more shot, she thought. It was about over... and a flicker of a smile lit in her face.

Then she felt it, the hard, burrowing violation between her bullet torn vaginal lips. She turned back, watching Damien as he slid into her. Her entire sex was burning with fire and pain, slick with flowing blood, and she squirmed, hips trying to buck him off, or move so that his penetration didn't hurt her. But the explosive hot gases left her entire pussy a burned, sensitive mass of meat. Her mouth opened, spilling more blood down Damien's chest as she begged for him to withdraw, but he clutched the back of her neck.

"You have one final choice, my dead Erika," he whispered to her.

"In the mouth, or in your heart."

Erika's tear glistening eyes met his.

"Fellacio, or a last titfuck?" he whispered.

"H-h-heart," she coughed, looking at him, her eyes growing more glassy.

"I'll keep your head as a souvenier then, my love," Damien whispered, kissing her bloody lips.

Erika closed her eyes, melting into his kiss as she felt the burning hot pistol press right under the notch in her ribs. She barely winced at the heat, her sense of pain having drained from her, along with all of her blood.
Had her arms been free... she couldn't remember where they were, why she couldn't wrap her arms around the neck and shoulders of this fantastic lover, whose touch had left her feeling cool and comfortably numb all over. Her tongue slid between his lips, and she wanted this moment to last the rest of her life...


Erika's lifeless body slammed hard back into the boards she'd been tied to, her heart chopped in half by the hollowpoint slug at contact range. What was left of her breasts bounced, spraying blood everywhere. Her jaw dropped slackly, eyes still open, gazing down at the floor.

Damien got his knife again from where he'd dropped it, and stabbed the two inch blade into her pale throat, slicing deep into the side of her neck, then cutting forward, slicing through her tough windpipe. Within a few moments of heavy cutting, the sharp little blade had all but severred Erika's head, and a thick handfull of hair in his hand kept her head from dropping to the floor before he slid the knife between her vertebrae and snipped her spine.

Erika's body finally went limp, her weight tugging on her wrists, as her arms, legs, even her burnt out, blown out pussy continued to twitch for several moments in death. Finally, her bladder released, washing hot fluid down around his cock, soaking down her legs. For several long moments, he held her head, still thrusting and orgasming inside of her.

Finally, Damien pulled out of her, and slid her head into first a plastic bag, then his bowling bag.

"All yours, Marcus," Damien called out, walking towards where he could change.

But Marcus was already working true to Damien's word.

By the time he was finished, he had six hours worth of $nuff films from Erika's execution alone.

She was immortalized. Not bad, Marcus thought, for a first and last picture show