****** Ass-Ass-In: Introduction by Satarvalluss ******
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Ass-Ass-In: Introduction


Elizabeth Philips was quite simply beautiful, and she knew it. The face in the
bedroom mirror that stared back at her confirmed it. Her long dark hair
cascaded down her naked back. The deep brown eyes above classic high cheekbones
sparkled. Her full red lips stretched into a congratulatory smile; another
successfully closed contract.

Her parents' money, together with her natural ability, was always going to mean
that she would rise to the top of any profession that she chose to pursue. They
saw her now at the very top of that profession, travelling the world, meeting
clients, and commanding huge fees for her financial advice. Her parents were so
proud. Elizabeth, who was their only child, was their life. She knew however
that their world would collapse if it were ever discovered what her true
occupation was. That secret though was safe. Known only by her boss, Mike
Western. After all, Western had invented her.

She smiled at herself again. Life was good. $500,000 plus expenses per contract
was her fee. She would ask no questions and was told no lies. It was not
personal; it was her job. The only stipulation that she had made from the
beginning would be that it was to be done her way, no rules but hers. Western
had agreed, without reservation. She was the weapon, his weapon. How she
carried out her objective was up to her. The Company would never become
involved; no link, no trace.

She contemplated her retirement. With over $6,000,000 to her name, she wanted
out. At 32, the rest of her life beckoned. There were only 2 loose ends to tie
up. First she would close the Anderson contract. She would then move to the
last stage, a contract for herself. She already tingled at the thought of it.
This one was personal. She would take extra special delight in closing the
Western contract. For FREE!

Jonathon Scott-Simmons had been dead for at least 10 minutes. His chest no
longer moved, his heart silent. Elizabeth was a true professional. She would
take no chances and would remain seated on his face for another five minutes.
The reflection in the mirror was now more slightly flushed than it had been
minutes earlier. She gently began to massage her clitoris. Circular, gentle
movements that only a woman knew how. Her breathing began to quicken slightly.
She had one of the city's most powerful financiers beneath her, dead. That
excited her. The feel of his nose, sealed tightly in her anus, excited her
more. She would have to come, soon. It always ended in a great orgasm. Each one
better than the last.

This kill had been the best yet. He had been given hope. His suffering had been
extended, for her pleasure. Her victim tortured with a promise of release.
There was no hope, no release. The final smother when it came was exactly that
- final. A victim, who was so exhausted from over half an hour of struggle for
life, could offer no resistance.

They all made the same mistake, men. They were like putty in her hands! The
thought of bedding a beautiful woman would ensure that they did not question
the obvious. They were oblivious to what was happening to them until it was too
late.

Most of them were repulsive, arrogant men, full of self importance fuelled by
their money and power. She had been genuinely attracted to only two of them.
That had made it more difficult at the end; she would always remember John
Curtis. He was her fourth. She could have really gone overboard on him under
different circumstances. With his good looks and genuine charm, He had confided
in her that she would be the first time that he had ever contemplated being
unfaithful to his wife. She believed him.

She was though, nothing if not professional, and had prepared herself more
thoroughly for him than any of the first three on the afternoon of the kill.
When she entered his hotel room for the secret rendezvous that evening, she was
ready, both physically and emotionally.

The injection had fully removed the use of his muscles. She had the ball gag
firmly tied in place and was ready. She would not make this a long one. She had
avoided contact with his eyes. That was usually one of her great pleasures. To
see them suffering and powerless to resist. It could in itself almost make her
come. Not knowing what their fate was to be gave her a buzz. She would take
great pleasure from describing to them how they would die. She was not going to
do this with John Curtis. He would be dispatched quickly. Finally, she double-
checked that the door was locked and that the "do not disturb" sign was
outside. Just another tired businessman having an early night. She had already
made sure that he had spoken to his wife and children earlier in the evening.

For a quick and efficient smother, she always preferred to remove her panties.
It gave a better airtight seal over the victim's mouth and nose. This was to be
one such occasion.

She undressed. Her eyes glanced over to where John Curtis lay helpless on the
large bed. She picked up her thin black panties and walked over to where he
lay. Almost ritually, she kissed him lightly on his brow, before placing her
panties over his eyes.

"Goodbye John," she whispered, making sure that the panties did not cover his
nose.

She went over to her handbag. Breathing deeply, Elizabeth removed her Walkman
and headphones and returned to the bed. This was a first, a change of routine.
When the fight for survival came, as she knew it would, she would put on her
Walkman and listen to Beethoven. She would not allow his muffled pleas to reach
her ears. His wife and children would not enter any of her thoughts. She was a
professional.

She straddled John Curtis, facing his feet and squatted heavily on his chest.
It was a technique that she always used before any smother. It would make her
victim work hard for breath even before moving onto their face. She sat heavily
for some minutes, forcing his chest down with her whole weight, occasionally
bouncing up and down, forcing the victim to expel more air. The gag restricted
the rate at which he could take air in. She could fell his chest rising and
falling, more quickly as the minutes passed. His breathing was becoming
shallow. He was tiring. She knew the time was near.

Forcing his chest down with the palms of both hands, Elizabeth pushed herself
back up his body towards his head. She was breathing heavily with her own
efforts. She moved further back, and hovered over his upturned face, adjusting
position. She always started with the mouth. She lowered her pussy, gently at
first until contact was made, shifted slightly, and then dropped.

She knew at this stage, the victim's head was already spinning through the lack
of air. The ball gag was forced deeper into the back of John Curtis throat. His
tongue was depressed, making swallowing almost impossible. His mouth was
sealed. His only way of breathing in was through his nose. She knew that the
end was near. There would be no need for a booster injection. His muscles would
be useless for at least another half an hour. He would be dead long before
then. This second stage weakened the victim even further. She pinched his
nostrils together with thumb and forefinger, totally shutting down his air
intake. She held him in this position until his chest heaved, fighting for
breath, fighting for life. His heart beat vibrated through her. She released
her grip on his nose and air hissed through the partially blocked cavities. She
repeated this cruel process another three times, until she was satisfied that
she was ready.

She lifted slightly. This always gave them hope. She gently clamped his head
fully upright with her feet and took position for the final smother. She pulled
her buttocks apart, and began slowly to work his nose into her anus. She
shivered. Hissed last breaths were being taken in by her victim through his
mouth. She wriggled his nose deeper inside her, until finally, she was happy
that the nose seal had been achieved. She then clamped her ankles tightly
together, and began the final decent.

She settled her pussy over his mouth, shifted her weight slightly and completed
the seal. It was a good seal, not perfect, but then it never was at first.

It was always at this point that her mind wandered back to the hens on her Aunt
and Uncle's farm. When her Aunt was alive she would visit and spend two weeks
of her summer holidays with them. The mother hens would settle on their eggs,
not moving for hours at a time. The fluffing and wriggling before the hens
settled for their sitting always fascinated her. The comparison always made her
smile. The hens were sitting to bring life, while she was doing it to take a
life away.

The immobile face beneath Elizabeth was fully covered. John Curtis was aware
what was happening, but was unable to do anything to stop it. Even his sight
had been removed. The orbs of her buttocks squashed his eyes tightly shut. She
pulled the trapped panties out from beneath her buttocks and tossed them to the
floor. They had served their purpose.

Elizabeth felt the first signs of John Curtis' muscles trying to respond, as
the injection began to lose some of its control. She took this as the sign to
press on. His hands twitched. She lifted his limp, floppy arms and crossed them
over his chest. She then pressed gently down with her hands to keep them in
place.

Beneath Elizabeth, the flatulent sounding noises being emitted from the pussy/
mouth seal were becoming less frequent. The effort needed by John Curtis to
take in even the smallest amount of oxygen, was becoming too much effort for
his rapidly tiring body. It always amazed Elizabeth, that of all the muscles to
recover, the penis was always one of the first. Even under these circumstances,
John Curtis was showing signs of having an erection.

Sensing that he was near to the end, Elizabeth quickly adjusted her position.
She straightened her back and pushed herself as hard as she could, down onto
his face, crushing his head and sinking it deeper into the firm mattress. She
felt the snap as his nose broke. His teeth ripped against his gums and felt
sharp against her pussy No more breaths now, she knew that. Her practiced
expertise always knew the correct time to close her victim down.

Elizabeth was very wet. The familiar feeling coming over her. She knew that
even if she needed the Walkman, she would never use it. She needed to do this.
The low moaning sounds coming from within John Curtis would be his last. The
vibration of his moans and the twitching of his nose and mouth against her
pussy and anus made her tingle. She had now only to control the heaving chest
spasms, to complete her task. Elizabeth pushed down hard on his crossed arms,
forcing his chest down. She could feel him trying to lift his chest, fighting
her from within. He could not. She easily rode out his last efforts, until the
spasms stopped. She shook. It felt so good. She needed to come, but knew that
she must control her urge until he was gone. The pounding of his heart was all
that remained. She sat and waited, breathing heavily, the sweat from her
efforts running down her naked body. The beating of the strained heart
gradually faded and then suddenly, stopped.

She threw his lifeless arms out to his sides and remained seated. She would
take no chances, she never did! Time was now on her side, and as always she
would use it. Her earlier thoughts about his wife and family were no longer in
her mind. This was HER time.

She glanced at the bedside clock. 9.30 pm. She had first settled onto his face
some twenty minutes ago. This had been a very quick one.

Elizabeth was now satisfied that John Curtis was gone. Her juices began to flow
freely at the prospect of what she was going to do. Her wetness caused his nose
to slip even deeper into her anus, making her gasp with delight. She began
gently sliding backwards and forwards, her clitoris rubbing softly over the
lifeless lips. This momentum gradually increased until she was literally riding
on the face beneath her.

She suddenly wanted HER orgasm. She NEEDED her orgasm. She was an addict. She
changed her rhythm, moving slowly forwards and then BANG, backwards, forcing
his nose hard against her anus. Teeth clenched, she moved more violently...
slide... BANG... slide... BANG... slide... Bang... slide... Bang. No respect
now, she hated him! This was her Uncle, they had all been her Uncle. He would
pay for what he did to her all those years ago. SHE was in control now, NOT her
Uncle. The enormous penis that had violated her mouth and pussy had haunted her
life for nearly fifteen years. They would all pay. She was making them, one by
one.

Elizabeth ground down on the face, brutal, no respect, no feeling. Just like
her Uncle had done to her. Her orgasm, when it came, sucked the energy from
within her. She desperately pushed fingers deep into her pussy, to increase the
joy. The release of pleasure and hatred that vied with each other arrived
together in a violent orgasm as she continued to mash her sex into the lifeless
form below. She fell forward, squealing and shuddering, burying her face in his
groin to silence her screams.

Elizabeth was utterly spent. She lay still, breathing heavily. The remains of
her orgasm still active deep within her. Her sticky cum and the drying blood
from his nose and lips were fusing her to her seat. She would move soon, but
not yet. She would enjoy her time for a while and was at peace. The devil of
her Uncle had been exorcised for now, but that would only satisfy the need
until the next time.

Her thoughts drifted back to the beginning. She thought then that the devil had
gone, all those years ago with the first smother. It had not. It only gave her
the satisfaction of knowing that no other woman would ever suffer the same fate
at the mercy of... her Uncle!

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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