What were you thinking? Did you have a couple of drinks and think you were stepping into some Bond Girl fantasy? You're clearly in over your head - bound tightly, an extra large ball gag forcing your jaw open.
The two spies stand over you with their hands on their hips. Your wide eyes glance back and forth between the blonde and the brunette as they decide your fate.
The blonde leaves the room and comes back with a large plastic bag. She demonstrates how durable the plastic is, pulls it over her face and breathes in with exaggerated fish lips as the brunette laughs in your face. That's going to be you soon.
The spies gleefully watch you as you suffocate to death. They lean in and mock your desperate attempts to get air. The brunette goes off to get some duct tape. She seals the bag tight around your neck and you're done for.
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Kym finishes securing the ropes. She wants you immobilized. Tied down for her to do whatever she pleases.
She teases you with a sharp blade, giggling. She explains that it's only to cut her lacy lingerie off with. You see the glint in her eye and hear the excitement in her voice. You begin to feel very nervous, but she does as promised, using the carbon steel to remove her pink lace bra and thong. Your cock throbs in excitement as her huge tits and wet pussy are exposed. As she grinds above you. Even as the knot in the pit of your stomach grows and begins to rise to your throat. She just wants to carve her initials, or take out an eye . . . kidding, she insists.
She gently runs the blade around your nipple, over and over until the sting makes you wince. She licks the blade, her excitement growing. Your cock is rock hard and she begins to ride it aggressively, pounding her pussy all the way down your shaft. The bed begins to move across the floor making noise. The blade is still in her hand and she begins to thrust it into your chest as she cums. Your cock is still hard inside of her when she notices the glazed, vacant look on your face & reluctantly climbs off.
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You're amped up for this pitch meeting. You just know you're going to kill it. The network is going to love you. Your eyes wander over to the blonde sitting across the waiting room. Probably some stupid girl interviewing to be an assistant to an assistant, trying to break into the industry. Like that'll ever happen.
She opens her mouth, your eyes must have lingered too long. She asks if you're also there for the pitch meeting. Your jaw drops and she rolls her eyes at you, knows exactly what you were thinking. She keeps talking, boy it's taking a long time. She offers to get you some coffee. Now that's more like it. You ignore her comment about adding something extra and accept the cup. You could get used to people bringing you things when your show gets picked up.
She stretches her legs out towards you and continues to talk. You begin to feel funny. Must be a little warm in here. She continues to taunt you. She says something about how you could die in here and no one would even notice, they'd just assume you partied too hard your first night in LA.
You slowly crumple, sliding to the floor. She slips a foot out of her heels and wiggles her nylon toes in your face. She gloats as you fade away, leaning over to slap your face. She snaps her fingers and you cannot budge.
The secretary enters the room, you were next, but it's too late. Whitney takes your place as you permanently lose consciousness.
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You come to just as Kelsey finishes wrapping you securely with saran wrap. A full mummification, leaving just your mouth, nose, and eyes exposed.
Your mind races, you remember leaving the bar, just barely. The two girls. But weren't they drunk? How much time has gone by? You feel sluggish, your mind still fogged with alcohol.
Kelsey and Star taunt you. They oscillate between a cold, sober, demeanor and gleeful laughing. They're going to fuck your whole life right up. They laugh as you struggle against your plastic casing.
Star produces a large plastic bag from her purse and demonstrates it before approaching you and pulling it roughly over your head. She stares into your eyes, enjoying the show. Watching you try to regulate your breathing. She's not finished yet. After mocking you for awhile, she takes another piece of saran wrap and winds it tightly around your neck. Now you're really running out of air.
Star & Kelsey sit across the room, observing you. Star explains how all that plastic makes for easy clean up, but sometimes Kelsey likes to get messy. They muse on whether they should make it a clean kill or a have a little fun.
Too late, you're almost gone. The blood pounds in your skull. They watch closely as your eyes glaze over.
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I've tightly gagged you and tied you to a chair. I walk away with the cash stuffed bag in hand. You're distracted from the severity of the situation by my assets. I taunt you with my curves & tease you about the visible bulge in your pants.
Suddenly there's a noise. I freeze and my eyes dart towards the door. You begin to call for help, moaning through your gag. I hiss at you, do I need to shut you up?
I retrieve a plastic bag from my duffel and deftly pull it down over your head. You'll quickly learn not to make any loud noises, any unnecessarily deep inhalations. How long do you think you can last with that bag over your head before suffocating to death?
I turn to leave, pick up my things. I turn back and glance down. I smirk. Your cock is still hard.
Does the thought of suffocating to death for me really turn you on that much? I suppose with the way you've
been staring at me this whole time I shouldn't be surprised. You've probably memorized every inch of my body by now haven't you? Big
mistake. Now I have to make sure you won't make it out of here alive. I remove a roll of tape from the duffel and tape the bag shut securely around your neck.
Now you're certain to suffocate and die before they find you. I tease you a bit, talking about your sweat, your breath, the look in your eyes. I should probably get going.
I glance down at your still hard cock, grab it through your pants, turn and sit on it. I grind and moan. It would be fun to stay, torment you, speed up your demise, considering how much trouble you're
having controlling your breathing with me on your lap. Unfortunately I have to leave - getting caught in a room with a corpse is bad for business.
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