Scott is badly beaten up and taunted by a big busty stable girl.
The following story contains descriptions of sex and violence. If you are offended by this or if you are under the legal age of consent in your country do not read on.
Inspired by another young woman I worked with.
(c)JIM P 1995
“I’m sorry but there’s nothing more that I can officially do. We had no choice but to let Lady Helen go.” said Detective Michael Jenkins, with regret. “She attacked myself [JIMP#4] and nearly killed my son [JIMP#6] and you say there’s nothing you can do!” I shouted in exasperation.
Jenkins smoothed his light brown hair, slightly thinning and spoke so softly that he was almost whispering “The order came from high up. We had no choice. She must have friends in high places”. “One law for the rich another for the poor” I replied bitterly “Give me her address. I need to see her”. “I don’t think that would be wise” he replied. Briefly I explained how I was investigating a series of break-ins at Bristledown Manor, the home of Sir Humphrey Smthye-Jones. I told him how some of the remarks made by Lady Helen during the torture of my son indicated an interest in the matter. “Okay, I’ll go along with you. This is unofficial mind you” Jenkins agreed.
We drove to Lady Helen’s home. A large white stone detached house, probably Georgian, well isolated from any neighbours. It was three stories high with a wide staircase leading to a ornate doorway in the middle floor. We climbed the steps to the doorway and rang the doorbell. We waited .. and rang again. The sound of a bolt moving and the turning of the handle preceded the opening of the door. A haggard middle-aged Asian cleaning woman stood in the doorway. I was shocked at the sight of her wretchedness. She was almost skeletal looking, loose brown skin hanging off painfully thin arms and legs. She wore a short sleeved top that only came to her midriff and baggy leggings that came to her knees, neither did she wear shoes. Around her waist and draped over her shoulder was another piece of cloth. The material of her clothing was worn and faded. Jenkins showed the woman his warrant card and told her “We wish to talk to Lady Helen Windthorpe. Is she in?”. The woman sprouted a fast torrent of words in some Indian language. “La-dy Hel-en. Is – she – inside” Jenkins spoke slowly and gestured, as if someone who didn’t speak English would understand it if you spoke slowly!. The woman look baffled and we were treated to another rapid stream of words we did not understand. Jenkins gave up and push his way pass. I followed with the woman shouting and probably cursing.
The hall was long with a high ceiling. It was sparsely decorated with only a few pictures and stonework on show. We entered a room on the right and looked around. This seemed to be a reception room and it too was sparsely furnished. “Perhaps her ladyship hired her on purpose so she couldn’t understand anything incriminating said or say anything about it” I said. “More likely an illegal immigrant brought over for cheap slave labour. I’ll get an interpreter up from West London to question her” Jenkins replied. This room too was decorated to give a light airy feel without the clutter or extravagant trappings of the rich that one normally finds in the houses of the upper classes.
The next room was a study. There was a desk, a PC, printer, photocopier and fax machine. Around the walls were shelves upon shelves of books on all sorts of subjects ranging from romantic fiction to business studies. I turned on the PC only to get “Keyboard locked. Press F1 to continue”. I could have frigged the keylock given a few minutes, but not with a Police detective in the same room. I moved to the desk and looked through the papers piled neatly in a tray tree. One folder was a dossier on a local Councillor named Cole. I showed this to Jenkins “Bobby saw a 4 wheel drive outside when he escaped with COLE1 as the number plate. Maybe she’s blackmailing him”. I took the folder together
with other interesting papers to the photocopier and started feeding the contents through it. “Before this job, I was hired by a rival councillor to look into corruption in Cole’s party. A supermarket chain wanted to open another out-of-town store when there was already three others in the area and despite the fact that it was killing the high-street. Cole’s party had the majority and voted it through. After some digging I followed councillor Fred Collier, to a secret rendezvous with a representative from the supermarket chain”. “Yeah I remember reading about that in the local rag. Collier was forced to resign” Jenkins replied. “Collier was only the scapegoat but I couldn’t find anything to tie in Cole” I said. I removed the last of the originals from the copier, and returned them to where I found them on the desk.
As we left the study a female voice with a Scottish accent said “Oi! what the heck do you think you’re doing here?”. We turned and saw a young woman in her early twenties walking down the hall towards us. She was about 5’6″ with a good solid body, by no means slim – a pleasant Rubenesque figure. She had black shoulder length hair that framed an attractive round face. She wore glasses through which she glared at us with sultry looking blue-grey eyes with thick black eyelashes. She had a medium sized nose, slender lips and a few freckles. She was wearing skin tight riding trousers that clung to her thick but shapely legs in a pleasant fashion. On her feet she wore tough ankle length outdoor boot. She also wore a rough chequered shirt and there was plenty of it as she had a huge chest. She was like a human set-square, vast slopes of breast angling at almost 45 degrees from her body hanging low over her lower ribs. She must be a good 60″ at least. A hint of deep cleavage showed in the V of her shirt neck.
“Police detective Jenkins” Michael said showing her his warrant card. She turned to face him. Her side profile was breathtaking, those breasts stuck out almost a foot from her body. “We are investigating matters relating to Lady Helen. And who may you be ?” he asked. I probably should have gone to look in the next room but the view was riveting, not to mention stimulating. “I am Sarah MacKensie and I look after Lady Helen’s horses” she replied. I thought I could smell joshsticks burning and followed the smell to a door across the hall still keeping my eyes on the chesty young woman.
“Do you know anything of Lady Helen’s whereabouts?” Jenkins asked. “No, she doesn’t tell me, only the occasional order. Only she did tell me after her morning ride that she would be away on a business trip for a few weeks” she replied. “Business, what business is she in?” I asked. She looked at me with those captivating eyes “I don’t know. She’s never told me and she’s not the type who likes talking to those of a lower station than herself”. That sounded like the snooty upper class attitude that really pissed me off when I encountered her. “That will be all for now madam. If we need to speak to you again where can we get hold of you?” Jenkins asked. Sarah gave her address and telephone number and then turned to walk back down the hall.
Jenkins followed as I entered the room from where the joshstick smell came from. Unlike the sparse airy rooms of the rest of the house that we had been in, this room was stacked from top to bottom with all sorts of Indian artefacts and decoration. This seemed significant so I took out my mini- camcorder and scanned it over the contents of the room. “Looks like she’s into India art in a big way” Jenkins said “I remember hearing that her parents or grandparents were out in India”. “Sir Humphrey also has loads of Indian antiques at the manor, his great grandfather was also out there. Maybe he has something that they wanted badly enough to steal”. In the corner, the cleaning woman was on her knees in front of a shrine burning incense chanting…
Scott hid in the bushes and watched the front of the house for about 10 minutes. Jim Priest was still inside with that other man who he’d guessed was some sort of policeman when he’d flashed his warrant card to the Indian woman who’d opened the door. His new boss [JIMP#5] had told him where Priest now lived and his client. So Priest had escaped West London for the more rural home counties. Away from the low flying planes landing or taking off from Heathrow. Away from the heavy car congestion and their fumes. Away from the Asians and the whole communities they destroyed (Scott is a racist). Away from the race riots. Away from the high levels of street crime, burglary and joy-riders. Scott hated Jim even more because he was still stuck in the city, he could never afford to move, not that he wanted to.
His mind burning with irrational anger, Scott crept around to the rear of the house. Here he found a small stable-yard with six stalls in two opposing rows of three. Horses were visible in four of the stalls. About 200 yards from the last stable he saw a door into the house and starting walking towards it. He was halfway to his goal when Sarah MacKensie opened the door on her way to tend to the horses.
Scott’s first reaction was to run and hide but she had seen him and was walking towards him. As she walked her large chest heaved up and down. “Cor what an enormous pair of tits. I’ll some of that” he thought. She stopped in front of him, legs astride and hands on hips. Her chest was thrust out and Scott gaped at the limited amount of deep cleavage visible.
“And what the hell are you doing here?. This is private property. Clear off or I’ll call the police” she stated in her Scotch accent. “Hello love, I’m with Jim Priest” he replied. “Do you mean that man with the detective?”. Scott nodded. “Oh, okay then” she walked to the corner of the yard and bent over to pick up a bale of hay. Her chest hung down like she had two huge cantaloupes stuffed up her shirt Scott could see right down the front of her shirt, his view full of mounds of luscious flesh. “Orrrrh what a pair” he thought, his erection growing in his trousers.
She lifts the bale and turns to carry it into an empty stall. Her astounding side profile arouses Scott further “What a pair of bazookas”. He follows her into the stall. With her back to him, she arranges the hay on the ground. He grabs her from behind, his hand going straight for her breasts. “What the…let go of me” she demands and starts struggling. Scott ignores her “It’s no use making any noise. There’s no-one around to hear you”. He gropes her chest while grinding his crotch into her ample backside. The bra she wore under her shirt felt stiff and unyielding frustrating his attempts to grope her breasts. He pushes her to the straw-covered ground and jumps astride her trying to undo her buttons.
“Get yer hands off me, yer filthy bastard” she spits at him. She struggles wildly but her hands are pinned by his legs. She tries to buck her body making it difficult to undo the buttons. He slaps her across the face hard and leaving a red mark “Keep still bitch and you won’t get hurt”. “You’ll the one who’ll get hurt in a minute buster” she replies and starts bucking again in an effort to throw him off. Frustrated with the buttons, he rips her shirt open, the buttons flying off across the stable. “I’ll make you pay for that. This is my best shirt” she shouts, her voice full of anger. Scott slaps her again across the face hard “Shut up”.
She was wearing the biggest bra Scott had ever seen in his life. White, stiff with gigantic cups to restrain her assets. Much more of her chest was now on display. He grabbed and squeezed them together to form two large mounds of flesh with a long deep cleavage between them. He moved back a bit so he could lean forward and nuzzle his face in between the warm sensual mounds. She manages to free her hands, but he ignores her, slobbering and drooling away. She raises her arms, clasps her hands together to form a large double fist and brings it down with all her strength on the back of his neck.
“mmph” Scott’s cry of surprise was muffled by his face being driven into her breasts. Reaching out with both hands to grab Scott’s shoulders, Sarah tries to push him off her but his weight hampers her.
Sensing her attempt to escape, Scott grabs her hands to pull them off his shoulders. Suddenly she jerks her torso forward, and rams her head hard into his. The head butt is devastating and both suffer. Scott collapses forward off to one side of her clutching his throbbing head. Sarah had been prepared for the move and despite the pain manages to roll her assailant off her body. She moves to the far corner to recover.
When Scott’s head cleared he slowly got up off the floor “You bitch, I’ll fix you for that”. Sarah opposite him also stood up. He pauses admiring the stupendous view of her large white bra straining to contain her boobs. She adopts a boxing stance with her fists raised. Scott bursts out laughing at the thought of a normal looking girl boxing. “You’ll laugh on the other side of your face in a minute. You bastard” she says. He steps towards his hands in front of him partial clutched. He reaches out to grab her breasts. With a quick snap of her right arm, she lands two punches into Scott’s face, smashing his nose. He clutches his nose and feels the blood flowing freely. “You bloody bitch” he lashes out with his fist towards her face, but she blocks it with her left hand and slams her right fist into his mouth. He is surprised to feel his lip puff out. He steps back in alarm only to sees her aim a punch with her right fist. He tries to block it, but she is faking and lands a crushing blow to his chin with her left. Down he falls like a sack of potatoes, not believing that an ordinary girl could drop him with a punch.
She removes her glasses and puts them on a shelf out of harm’s way. “Take off your glasses and get up and fight like a man. You sasnanach wimp” she taunts standing with her legs astride, her fists still up in a boxing stance. “You got lucky bitch” he spits as he gets to his feet.
She moves in and launches a punch. Scott moves to the side to try to avoid it, but it catches him in the shoulder. “aggh bitch” he spits, moves forward, grabs her hands and pulls them out to the side. “Now I’ve got you. Can’t punch me any more can you?” he sneers. He pushes her against the wall of the stable and tries to kiss her. She turns her head to the side to avoid him. This really pisses him off. He grabs her body and pushes her to the ground.
He stands over her, “get that bra off or I’ll smash your face in” he orders. “Do it yourself wimp” she retorts and slides along the floor so that her back is against the wall. He bends down to try and get to her bra, but she grabs his hands to stop him. He tries to fall upon her but she raises her legs bent at the knees and stops his body with her feet. He leans forward putting all his weight upon her bent legs trying to get at her. Like a fully wound spring, she lets go of his hands and straightens her legs sending Scott flying across the stable, his glasses falling off on his journey.
“This bitch plays rough” he thinks as recovers from his fall. He recalls getting thrashed by the martial art skills of Japanese schoolgirls [JIMP#5]. He has no intention of making that mistake twice, but this young woman hasn’t show any martial art skills. She plays rough, should he risk it ?. He sees her get to her feet and stick out her chest. “I’d do anything to get my hands on those tits” he thinks and rises.
“I’ll take you” Scott shouts. “Who and whose army” she taunts as she stands. Scott rushes across towards her. She throws a punch, but he blocks it. No sooner had he done that, when her other fist lashes out landing smack bang in the middle of his face. He starts to bring his hands up to his face to protect himself but her fist gets there first into his right eye. He raises his hands but she grabs them and pulls his arms apart and quickly slamming her right fist into his left eye.
With his hand over his face, Sarah has a clear shot at his unprotected middle and buries her fist deep into his flabby stomach. “ooorrpph” the air is knocked out of him in a noisy explosive outburst. He starts to slump forward and sees her tight riding trouser covered knee driving up hard to smash the remains of his nose. Devastated and in pain Scott falls to the ground trying to catch his breath.
He sees her lower herself to the floor, turn around and lower her ample backside to cover his face. She sits back sitting fully on his face, smothering his cries completely. He feels he is suffocating and tries to struggle but her weight pins his head. She wriggles about and grinds her arse in his face torturing his already broken nose. His screams are completely smothered and he thrashes his body around frantically to no avail. Soon she feels him starting to go limp beneath her.
SMACK, Scott’s tranquillity is broken by a hard slap to his left cheek driving his face to the right. SMACK, her hand connects with his right cheek, forcing his face to the left. He opens his eyes in time to see her sitting on his stomach delivering another slap to redden his left cheek. “No..” SMACK. “You’re not getting away with it that easily” she tells him as another hard slap hits his right cheek.
She stands up. “You southerners are so weak. My kid sister could knock the crap out of you” she taunts “on you feet and fight like a man”. But Scott has had enough, this female is too wild and tough for him “leave me alone” he begs. “No way. Get up and let me show you what Scottish women do to rapists” she replies.
“Maybe this will make you change your mind” with that she reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra strap. Scott watches in amazement as she removes her bra. That stiff white expanse of material had been under a lot of pressure to contain her breasts. At their release, her breasts sprung out to the sides and down past her navel. Scott’s dick came immediately erect. “Think you’re man enough for these do you?” she taunted. She threw her bra to one side and raised her arms over her head. Scott drooled at the large firm full rounded breasts dangling like giant pendants in front of her. Her areolae were large as were her thick nipples that jutted out like two small caps. He was really aching for her now.
She started gently swaying her shoulders, their motion greatly amplified by her massive mammaries. She increased the tempo, her breasts wobbling erotically. She made them bounce up and down, and from side to side. “Ohhhh” Scott moaned aloud as he got to his feet, sexual pressures building up inside him to breaking point. He moved towards her, but stopped when he put her fists up. She then squeezed her boobs together between her hands like they were two pillows, a long deep dark crevice between them. She squashed and squeezed the mounds of flesh rolling between her hands. She put her hands behind her head and wobbled her breasts once more. It was more than any red-blooded heterosexual man could stand, and Scott creamed himself – spasm after spasm shooting into his pants.
He stood panting and red-faced with embarrassment. “I told you that you weren’t man enough to handle me” she taunts. Slowly she moves towards him, breasts wobbling from side to side at the same time as bouncing up and down as she walked. Scott could believe it, although he had just came she was making him rock hard again. She came close pressing her body right against his, her face close to his. Seductively she asks “Do you want me ?”. “Yes please, please I’ll do anything to have you” he begs. “Will you do anything I ask?”. “oh yes please”.
She steps back “Then box me bare-fisted. Best of three rounds. If you win, you can get your grubby hands on me. If I win you won’t”. Scott hesitated remembering the damage her fists recently inflicted on his face “Ur.. I don’t know”. She puts her hands behind her head and starts wobbling again. The sight is too much, he feels as he will come at any moment if she keeps this up “yes yes I’ll do anything”.
She raises her fists. Scott copies her stance and they start to circle each other. “You just got lucky last time” he says “I won’t be so easy on you this time”. She moves in close and punches with her left fist. Scott was waiting for it this time and moves his arm in the way and blocks it. His forearm burns from the impact. But he hasn’t got time to worry about that because she starts to fire more punches at him. Scott dodges these, backing up and moving away from her. She follows punching at him as he dodges and moves back. Suddenly Scott realises that she has manoeuvred him into a corner. “There’s nowhere to go now so you better start fighting like a man otherwise I’m going to beat you to a pulp” she taunts, her breasts swinging provocatively.
Pull yourself together Scott tells himself, she is trying to distract me with those boobs. He swings with his right fist but she ducks and he hits nothing but air. He lunges towards her with a left jab but she blocks it and replies with a punch to the mouth. He worries that she might have loosened his teeth. He tries to slug her, but she blocks the blow and hammers another fist into his mouth. He feels the taste of blood and lashes out in anger. She ducks, comes up inside his guard and rams another fist into his mouth bloodying it some more. “Your face will be a bloody mess by the time I’ve finished with you” she tells him.
“No, I can’t let myself be beaten up by a mere girl” he thinks and lunges at her, knocking her off balance. Before she can recover he hits her in her face. Sensing victory he decides to repay her for the damage to his face and then rape her. He drives his right fist repeatedly into her large soft breasts. He is pleased to hear her groaning with pain and enjoys the sensation of his fist sinking into the softness of her breasts. For good measure he grabs her tits around the nipples and starts twisting them viscously. “Agghh no no you’re cheating” she cries, but he’s not interested in her silly boxing match. He brings his knee up hard between her legs. She lets out a cry of anguish and sinks to the floor.
“I’ve won, now get your trousers and knickers off” Scott cries in delight. “Do it yourself” she replies the pain showing in her voice. He bends down to unfasten her trousers. She kicks out swiftly, her foot driving hard into his groin. He lets out a loud cry of agony and staggers back clutching his balls.
He is still bent over nursing his groin when he sees her get to her feet and approach him, anger in her eyes. “I’ll fix you, you cheating southern bastard” she says between gritted teeth. She grabs him by the hair, pulls his face up and punches him hard on the nose, blood splattering everywhere.
Scott kicks out at her shin. “Ow you bastard” she says as she lets him go and clutches her shin. He moves forward and hits her in the mouth, drawing blood. Excited he swings at her head, but she ducks and hammers a pile-driver into his stomach. The wind whooshed out of him and he started to double up. She pulls his head up to give him a close up of her breasts “Big aren’t they?, more than you can handle” she smashes her fist into his face. “I grew up in Glasgow” she tells him as she lands a stiff jab on his mouth. “In one of the rough parts.” another jab smacks his lip. “A girl soon learns how to fight off the drunks and the thugs” a hard right cross smashes his face so hard that he sees stars.
He steps back out of her reach, but she follows. He lashes out in fear. She dodges the blow and unleashes a hammer like double left jab against his swollen lips.
Scott is frantic and looks around for a route to escape. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her fist just before it rams into his face. She follows quickly with a tremendous right hook which lands square on his chin with a loud crack. Scott feels his jaw rattle and for a moment sees double. He steps back to get away from her only to find his legs wobble beneath him. He sees her step forward but hasn’t the energy to defend himself and she whacks him twice more on the chin before things go hazy and he drops to the ground.
He shakes his head to try and clear the daze. He hears her “get up you wimp”. He kicks out at her feet but she skips out of the way. “Leave me alone you bitch” he spits. She clasps both hands together in front of her and leaps down on top of him, driving her fists deep into his diaphragm, crushing the wind out of him. His torso lurches up by reflex. She slugs him with a tremendous right cross and he drops back to the ground, groaning loudly, head spinning in a daze.
He is vaguely aware of her sitting on his chest, then sliding forward until his mouth and nose are smothered by crotch. He panics, he can barely breathe through his smashed, but once again her weight pins him to the ground. She begins to grind around, he feels the painful clicking of broken bone as his nose is moved around. His screams are muffled by her crotch, the vibrations exciting her. She rocks back and forth on his face until she feels no resistance beneath. However she doesn’t want to stop and continues, gently moaning …
SMACK, Scott is roughly woken back into reality, SMACK “come on you lazy bastard, I haven’t got all day” SMACK. “Leave me alone” he begs. She kneels over him and grabs hold of him by the collar and starts pulling him up. He notices that under the strain, her forearms look quite strong and her thick arms look solid not flabby at all. She pulls him up part way and then quickly wraps her arms around him to pull him to his feet. She lets go, but he puts him arms around her holding tight “Let go off me, you pansy” she demands, but he refuses and starts groping her arse. Her knee drives up like a piston smashing into his groin. He lets go of her to clutch his vitals, his mouth opening and shutting noiselessly like a goldfish.
“Please no” he begs as she steps towards him. He backs up to get away from her, but finds his progress halted by a wall. He charges at her with his arms out stretched to grab her. She bends forward at the last moment so he runs into her, her head in his groin. She grabs his legs and straightens up, throwing him over her back to the floor. She bends over him, her large boobs swinging over him “Stop mucking around and get up and fight like a man or I’ll stomp her balls to pulp”. She places her foot on his groin for emphasis. In fear that she might carry out her threat he gets to his feet.
She moves away from him, positioning herself between him and the door. She puts her arms over her head and swings her boobs “come and get them, if you dare”. Despite the pain, the sight still has an erotic effect on Scott. He is determined to pay her back for the beatings she has given him and to take her as his final victory.
She throws a punch with her left followed quickly by a right and then another left. To his surprise he manages to block these, fearful at the power behind her punches. Gaining confidence, he launches a punch to her head. She barely manages to block it and throws a right cross in return followed by two lefts. To his delight, he blocks her punches, although they sting where they hit. She feints to the left and Scott dodges only for her right to find his face. He strikes out in return, but hits air as she side- steps. Before he has re-composed himself, she stuns him with a solid blow to the solar plexus. He bends over in pain and her fist smashes into his face. Despite the pain he forces himself to stand erect and throw a right hook. She ducks out of the way, then comes up to land an uppercut to his chin. Scott feels his jaw crack and falls to his knees.
He shakes his head and rises. For a moment he can’t see her then her realises that she is behind him. Too late, she punches him hard in the kidneys. “arghh” he grimaces in pain clutching his back. “That’s for trying to run out on me before the fight has finished” she tells him. She turns him around and drives her fist deep into his belly. As he leans forward winded she places her hands on his shoulders and powers her knee into his ribs. “That’s for being such a coward” she sneers. Again her knee blasts upwards slamming into his chest. She ignores his loud cries “Are you going to fight now or shall I just pulverise you with my knee?”. Once more her knee hammers into his upper torso drawing cries of pain.
She lets go of his shoulders and cups her mountainous chest in her hands. He is still bent forward looking at the ground. She rubs her breasts into his face “want some?”. He looks up. She backs off and starts her erotic dance, breasts swaying seductively “aren’t these worth fighting for?”. “phhror” he exclaims as she reminds him of what he desired.
He moves towards, cock hardening in lust. But she stops her dance and raises her fists. “Cock-teaser” he spits angrily. He wants he badly but she is much too tough. Maybe I can take her by surprise.
He steps forward unleashing a series of mad punches desperately to hit her. She tries to defend herself but some of the punches find their mark and she starts backing up. I’ve got you now bitch he thinks as he continues his assault. He is delighted when she backs into the wall, her face showing signs of some lucky hits. “Beg for mercy, bitch” he sneers, aiming some more punches towards her face.
She surprises him by dropping her guard in the middle of his assault to begin hammering a series of blows to his stomach. Badly winded, he steps back to get away from her. To his surprise she doesn’t follow him but lets him catch his breath.
She judges he is ready and moves forward. He swings out with his right fist, but she blocks it and moves forward to ram her fist into his already battered belly. He falls forward and she catches him in a clinch. She pushes him off but he tries to fall back against her. She pushes him away again and rockets her fist into his jaw. The blow is so strong, Scott sees stars. WHAM, he feels her knuckles smash into his mouth. He tries to raise his hands to protect himself but he is too late, another punch smashes into his jaw flinging his head back so hard that it strains his neck. He collapses forward to fall against her luscious body in another clinch. She pushes him away and pistons her fist like a steam-hammer into his belly. Winded, he bends forward. An uppercut flings his head back savagely, hitting the wall at the back of him. Another fist drives deep into his belly and another and another. He is too weak and winded to protect himself against the savage torrent of blows to his middle. He slides slowly down the wall to the ground.
She lowers herself to the floor and pulls him away from the wall so he is lying down. Vaguely Scott sees her lean over him with her breasts cupped in her hand. He feels the soft mounds press into his face, moulding themselves to the contours of his face. At first he enjoys the sensation, but then realises that this is not foreplay – she is trying to suffocate him with her boobs. He struggles to breathe, but her breasts are like pillows over his face.
She feels him stop struggling and start to go limp. She gets off him and slaps his face a few times to liven him up a bit. “It’s time to finish you off now” she says as he is hauled once more to his feet. She holds him with one hand and in horror Scott watches helplessly as she draws back her other hand clenched in a fist. He sees it speeding towards his
face and then everything goes black.
Scott comes to, to hear the sound of approaching sirens. He lies for a while not really knowing where he is. Then it all comes back to him and groggily he gets to his feet to make his getaway.