"I..."
"Don't go for men. I know. That's OK. We have some
fun anyway. Come on, get up. We go back to my boat. Have a little
fun."
He left her unbound while he tied the noose. He wanted
her to see what he was doing. She eyed the knife. It was right by his
side. If she dove for it, could she grab it before he did? Probably not.
It wasn't worth a knife in the gut if she was wrong; she'd take her
chances with the rope.
"Please," she whispered, "don't do
this."
"Been waiting to do you for a long time," he
replied, tying off the knot. "Watching you. Planning it." He
confronted her, his massive bulk dominating her, overpowering her. The
noose was over her head before she knew what was happening. It took him a
minute or two to get her endless brown tresses through the loop. And then
the bright white nautical rope was tight against her throat.
A tear trickled down her cheek, hot and desperate. Was
he really going to kill her, just because she was a lesbian?
"Please," she whimpered. "I'm begging you...please don't
hang me..."
He shook his head. "Not gonna hang you. Noose is
just to get you started." As if to prove this point, he attached the
line to an overhead winch. The motor hummed to life, pulling her feet off
the deck. Her hands flew instinctively to her throat. As he swung her
hanged body out over the railing, she dug her slender fingers under the
rope. Her lean, strong biceps flexed as she fought the noose. She
discovered that if she devoted all of her strength to the project, she
could keep the rope loose enough to allow minimal breathing.
Her endless, olive-hued legs kicked impotently above the
crystal-blue Mediterranean water. "Please," she gasped, and that
was all. Her plea had no content beyond that simple word.
"Better. You look good like that," he decided.
He let the young beauty kick and squirm for several minutes, admiring her
movements, enjoying her helplessness. At last he retrieved the knife.
The blade flashed towards her lean, naked belly, but her
reflexes were good: she twisted away from his thrust. He laughed and
stabbed at her again. Again she dodged. And so began an elaborate dance.
Her motions were conditioned, in part, by the noose and by her fight
against it. But the blade added subtle complexities to her movements. Her
slender body twisted and writhed its way through contortions which would
have put the most brazen temple prostitute to shame. Firm, melon-sized
breasts jiggled and bounced beneath her red bikini. Her infinite brown
tresses flew about her like a dark tempest. Gagging and choking, she
squirmed in desperate, helpless panic.
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