Satin Silk 412

‘You are Dr. Storm. I am Joanna’s mother, Rachel,’ she laughs. ‘And, obviously, you have just come from my daughter’s bed!’ ‘Ah…Er, yo... see…’ ‘Strange. Joanna never mentioned you had a speech impediment,’ and again she surprises me with her deep, throaty laugh. ‘So, aren’t you going to offer me some of that orange juice?’ She walks to the cabinet, removes two glasses, and places them in front of me as she seats herself opposite me. I pour. What else can I do? ‘Well, Mrs. Combs . . .’ . Or maybe... in a minute or less I'll feel the trapdoor fall away and begin my battle for air. A battle that I will inevitably lose.At first, I wasn't sure which would be better: to watch one of the other girls die, kicking and struggling in the noose; or to experience that ultimate sensation myself, hanging, strangling, cumming, dying.After a couple of days I decided it was better to watch. No, not because I'm afraid of death. No. But when another girl is chosen, I get to watch. It excites me. More

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