Garrote Assassins Latex (short story)

You glance at the security monitors. Despite the room’s opulence, adorned with intricate decorations and marble floors, it remains bathed in a sea of shadows, teeming with an air of unpredictability. Only the flicker of a red beacon punctures the stillness—the sole indication of an unwelcome presence.

The telltale signs are unmistakable - a choked gasp echoing through the communication channels, followed by a silence that hints at the presence of an intruder armed with a garotte. In response, you instinctively reach out for your weapon of choice, a garotte just as deadly.

Slipping into your black latex bodysuit, the sensation of its embrace invigorates you. You love its snug fit; the second skin imbues a sense of invulnerability. It's not just the thrill of being an executioner that quickens your pulse, but also the prospect of becoming prey. The thought sends shivers and sets your blood ablaze.

You run your tongue along the cold steel cables. A shiver of delight ripples through your tightly clad form.

Death's shadow creeps in as the cat-and-mouse game prepares to commence. Every breath you draw feels like a hushed anticipation. One wrong move could mean oblivion. And yet... there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

———

In the eerie silence, only the slight clasp of your polished high-heeled boots can be heard. Your weapon glinting in hand - a serpent of steel, coiled and ready to strike with a deadly kiss.

You venture into the chamber, a recent scene of disquiet. Your eyes scan across the sterile interior, hunting for any sign of your adversary. At the epicenter lies a corpse, a fallen sentry.

Your senses sharpen to a razor's edge and a bead of sweat trickles down your forehead. Danger pulses through your bloodstream like a potent aphrodisiac. You scrutinize the lifeless form - her shrink-wrapped body still warm.

Without any prelude, a figure materializes in the glossy reflection on the deceased's suit. A steel wire slices through the air and wraps itself around your neck. The face of the assailant unveils itself in the mirror-like sheen - high cheekbones and a triumphant smile.

"No, can't be!" You gasp, your voice choked and strangled. But the strain of her garrote tightens, binding you both. Her hips pressed against your taut buttocks in the constricting grip. The sheen of her synthetic suit, as taut and glossy as shrink wrap, squeaks in a duet against the rubbery resistance of your own exterior.

The steady thump of her heart resonates against your torso like an echo. Her rigid nipples burrow into your skin. Your own heart responds with a fevered tattoo against the executioner's chest.

Unbidden, a gasp flees from your lips while her breath fans hot against your neck. The lungful ignites a battle within your psyche – a clash between disbelief and the thrill intertwined with the prospect of death. Your nipples harden as death hovers nearer than ever.

"Goodbye, love," whispers the executioner into your ears, her arms coiling around your torso like a python's embrace, "I hope you had fun because I had mine."

The assassin draws her garotte even tighter. The wire clings to your throat and reduces your voice into a feeble gurgle. Your hand flutters up to your neck in a futile gesture, pleading for just a few more precious moments to live. Yet, there's a raw equity in it. She's just like you - cast from the same lethal mould.

Your body coils tighter with each passing second. The latex suit rubs taut against the flesh between your thighs. The friction builds against your skin. Every struggle for air is a torment that stirs a heat deep within your core.

Wet droplets from your minge lubricate the rubbery fabric. The lips bloom and swell against the insistent pressure. Your vulva clenches, sharp and urgent, teetering towards the brink. The tension bullies you until it becomes almost too much to bear. Your heart pounds, keeping time with the mounting pressure. In mere seconds, this struggle will reach its inevitable crescendo.

From https://www.patreon.com/posts/garrote-latex-111898581