`` OK, now arch your back for me. ``

Imogen Dyer obliged, bending forward and pushing her tit forward, turning sideways to the bright luminance. She was topless, wearing a babe blue thong. She shook her brunette tresses and smiled as the camera clicked away. She puckered her rim for a few crack, then closed her eyes and lightly stroked her nipple.

'' Great, great, '' the photographer Mark Sir Geoffrey Wilkinson said. `` That should wrap it up. Your bend, Emma. ``

Petite blonde Emma Wagstaff was standing off to the side. She smiled and slid out of her soft Andrew D. White robe, revealing a dark string Bikini underneath. Emma had a younger, college coed look. She was perky but curvaceous than you would consider. Imogen was taller and more voluptuous with hard 36C breasts.

'' Those lights were pretty hot, '' Imogen said as she stepped off the set.

'' I know, '' the photographer said sympathetically. `` Why do n't you go shower down off. exact your fourth dimension. '' He indicated a closed door against the far rampart. `` Thanks, '' Imogen said. The lensman turned his attending back to Emma. `` Let 's start by taking off the bum, '' he said. Emma obliged, untying the bikini bottomland, smiling seductively, pulling the framework away just enough to show up she was completely shaved underneath.

'' you guys have fun, '' Imogen said as she made her way to the exhibitor room.

Imogen closed the privy door behind her. It was a make clean, good sized bathroom with a toilet and large sink, thick towels on a rack, and a huge exhibitor with a limpid trash threshold. Neither Imogen nor Emma had worked with this lensman before but she was happy, he seemed to get a way of putting manikin at ease.

Wonder if the degenerate films his models showering, she though. Well, it 's zippo he has n't seen already, she thought as she took off the thong, which she had pulled aside during the shoot to show up some pink.

Imogen turned on the shower which had a lot of water pressure just the way she liked it. She turned to the mirror and smiled, and squeezed her innate breasts some more. Photo shoots always made her a footling horny. The water warmed up quickly and soon Imogen stepped in and closed the door.

She sighed and tossed her hair back, and closed her eyes, as the water ran down her consistency. This had been a more tiring day than she had noticed and she was looking forward to a deoxyephedrine of wine at dwelling house. Water splashed at the level at her feet.

Imogen opened her eyes and turned for the max, but she suddenly realized the grievous bodily harm dish was abandon. There was no shampoo either. Strange. She sighed. The water felt so sound she did n't want to get out.

The piddle was getting louder and at this point Imogen realized it was pooling at her feet. `` screwing, '' she muttered. She bent down and poked at the waste pipe but it consisted of hollow drilled in the tile, smooth to the touch. She could n't fix it.

She closed her eyes again. She squeezed her mamilla lightly, then brought a script down to rub her button gently. `` Mmm… '' she moaned. If the photographer had photographic camera in the bathroom, she might as well make it worth his while.

The body of water was up to her ankles at this decimal point and Imogen found it distracting. She stopped what she was doing and decided it was clock time to get out and complain. She pushed at the door, but it would n't stir. She tried pulling, but no effect.

'' Fucking door is stuck ? '' she asked. Now she was really annoyed. She could n't even get the door to rattle, and it was flush against the shower bulwark so she could n't embrace fingerbreadth into the wisecrack and pry it open. `` Fuck, '' she said again. She kicked at the door, which she immediately realized was pudding head, but that had no effect either. The wall were self-coloured. `` Wonder if I can mount out if I get desperate, '' she thought, and then she looked up and saw for the first metre that this shower had a ceiling.

Imogen felt worried, but not too worried yet. `` Hey ! '' she yelled. `` Guys, get in here for a sec ? ``

Suddenly the doorway burst overt loudly. It was Emma, who was now naked, and the photographer. `` Hey, sorry to bug you but the '' Imogen began, but then she stopped. Something was weird. Emma 's eyes were opened unnaturally astray, and her face seemed red.

Then Imogen noticed that Emma 's hands were behind her back. From the incline, she could see that Emma was handcuffed. `` Emma ? What the ass ? ``

The photographer was behind her with an wild look on his face. Emma saw Imogen and mouthed, soundlessly, `` help ! aid ! ``

That 's when Imogen saw the Negroid string, probably function of Emma 's bikini, around Emma 's cervix like a tight black R-2, powerful under the mentum. Emma was being strangled.

'' crap ! NO ! '' Imogen screamed. The water was up to her human knee now. She slammed the water off in panic, but the water flow did not give up. She flipped and twisted the handle, but nothing happened.

The photographer pushed Emma forward and slammed the minuscule blond into the shower door. Emma 's knocker were perky but still substantial, probably a C-cup. Her tits pressed against the shower glass. Imogen was shaking in veneration now but tried to sound brave. `` You PERVERT ! Let her go !, '' Imogen screamed.

Emma was thrashing badly now as the want of oxygen started to burn in her lungs. Her tits squashed and rubbed against the glass. Imogen kept screaming in panic. `` Stop it ! NOOO ! ``

She was horrified by the facial expression in Emma 's eyes but she could n't front away. Emma 's gaze started looking more distant even as her dead body fought ferociously, and then her lingua started to stick out. Emma 's center looked upwards. Then her middle crossed slightly. `` Oh god, Emma…no, Emma… '' Imogen whimpered.

Emma seemed to still be witting. With one last-place fusillade of energy she thrashed hard, knocking herself against the Methedrine a few times, jerking and overrefinement as she tried to escape. It seemed to last forever, while Imogen sobbed. The piss was almost at her waist.

Suddenly Emma 's mouth opened even wider. Her face was regal. Her body tighten up and her head dropped downward as her black spit stuck out even further, which did n't seem possible, then she started to shake off. It did n't face like she was struggling, just vibrating hard. Imogen did n't substantiate these were the trivial blond 's dying throes.

Imogen 's mind went into a affright. She started flailing with the shower bath restraint handle again, trying to get the water to end. She bashed the door with her fists. `` Help me '' Imogen screamed. `` mortal aid MEEE ! ``

Emma was still now and slumped over, dead. The photographer let go of the garotte and put his men under Emma 's axilla and carried the blond back towards the bathroom. He dropped her and unwrap his belt, then quickly stripped off his denim, revealing a Brobdingnagian erection. He lifted Emma again and sat on the closed pot lid. `` Oh god, '' Imogen moaned as she watched. `` No ! ``

The lensman put his branch together as he sat and positioned Emma 's remains to sit on his lap, spreading her ramification open. He felt for her opened, shaved slit with his finger, then shifted and repositioned her just right as he leaned back and leaned Emma 's body with him. Imogen watched in repulsion as he slowly pressed his shaft into Emma 's puss. Then he carefully sat upright and began moving his rose hip ever so slowly, as if to savor the feel inside the dead blonde. Then he looked at Imogen with a cold, hard stare.

The piss was yesteryear Imogen 's tits now, and they were bobbing and bouncing frantically as she continued pounding at the door. `` HELP MEEE ! '' she screamed. `` SOMEBODEEEEE ! He 's going to kill meeee ! ``

As the water approached her chin, Imogen tried a new tactic. `` Please, '' she yelled to the photographer. `` Please, I 'll do anything. I wo n't tell anybody ! '' The body of water kept rising. Imogen was on tiptoes now, struggling, her mamilla bouncing beautifully as the underwater weightlessness made them jiggle even more than usual. `` Pleeease ! '' The lensman was moving his pelvic arch faster now and said nothing, but he was breathing hard. Imogen had to tilt her head back as the body of water rose to pry level.

Imogen began to tread water as she begged. `` hold back it, please ! plosive consonant ! '' The water seemed to be rising faster. It had gone past the exhibitor schnoz, and water was somehow pouring in through the ceiling corners. Imogen could n't get a good feeling to see how, nor did she guardianship. She was in hysterics and sobbing, trying to keep her thinker on treading water. Her oculus were shut tight instinctively, but that meant she could n't see the ceiling getting closer as the H2O carried her upward.

She was getting tire out already. Then she felt her nose bump the ceiling. `` NOOO ! '' she screamed. `` PLEEEASE ! ! '' She had the front of intellect to take one cryptical breath, then she felt the piss cover her mouth.

Imogen opened her eyes in horror as the pee covered her completely. Oh god, this is it, she thought. Someone get me out of here ! She banged the ceiling with her fists.

Her panicked mind was just elucidate enough for her to decide to try the doorway one last time. She kicked at the front of the shower bath frantically. She was running out of air quickly.

Through the wall, Imogen saw that Emma 's head was on the base now, her eyes still wide overt. The photographer was standing, holding Emma up by the rose hip as he continued fucking her, thrusting hard.

Imogen 's lungs were on fire. She had to breathe ! She tried covering her mouth with her hands, trying to hold the air in longer, but her body betrayed her. Almost like a cough, about half the air in her blew out of her mouth as her lungs tried to breathe. She was in agony. Her legs were kicking frantically as she began sinking to the floor.

Imogen felt her optic widen and her mouth undetermined, just like Emma had done. The thinking locked her physical structure in terror. Still in a standing position, her weaponry dropped to her slope as she screamed out what was left of her air, in a gurgling, wordless screaming. Then her body breathed in the water, and her agony doubled with the pain of body of water filling her lungs. She bent backwards and felt her body jerked meat in huge spasms.

That was the concluding affair she felt. Imogen fell to her articulatio genus, her oral cavity open, her eye rolling back and unseeing. Her chest heaved and heaved again as her lungs continued to try to breathe. Her consistency spasmed uncontrollably sending her breast into a delicious dancing of bouncing and floating. The photographer pumped Emma 's dead slit madly and he came hard, deep inside the girl 's corpse .