`` OK, now arch your back for me. ``

Imogen Dyer obliged, bending forward and pushing her breast forward, turning sideways to the undimmed Light. She was topless, wearing a baby blue devil lash. She shook her brunet tress and smiled as the camera clicked away. She puckered her brim for a few shots, then closed her eyes and lightly stroked her nipple.

'' Great, heavy, '' the photographer Mark Wilkinson said. `` That should wind it up. Your turn, Emma. ``

Petite blonde Emma Wagstaff was standing off to the side of meat. She smiled and slid out of her soft white robe, revealing a contraband drawstring bikini underneath. Emma had a younger, college coed flavor. She was perky but bosomy than you would think. Imogen was taller and more voluptuous with grave 36C breasts.

'' Those Christ Within were pretty hot, '' Imogen said as she stepped off the set.

'' I know, '' the lensman said sympathetically. `` Why do n't you go cascade off. take up your metre. '' He indicated a close door against the far wall. `` Thanks, '' Imogen said. The photographer turned his attention back to Emma. `` Let 's start by taking off the bottoms, '' he said. Emma obliged, untying the bikini bottom, smiling seductively, pulling the fabric away just enough to show she was completely shaved underneath.

'' you guys have fun, '' Imogen said as she made her way to the shower bath room.

Imogen closed the lav threshold behind her. It was a scavenge, good sized lav with a lav and large sink, boneheaded towels on a single-foot, and a huge shower with a transparent glass door. Neither Imogen nor Emma had worked with this photographer before but she was felicitous, he seemed to have a way of putting models at ease.

Wonder if the pervert films his modelling showering, she though. Well, it 's nil he has n't seen already, she thought as she took off the thong, which she had pulled aside during the shoot to show some pink.

Imogen turned on the shower which had a lot of water force per unit area just the way she liked it. She turned to the mirror and smiled, and squeezed her rude breasts some more. photograph shoots always made her a little horny. The water warmed up quickly and soon Imogen stepped in and closed the door.

She sighed and tossed her hair back, and closed her eyes, as the weewee ran down her consistency. This had been a more tiring day than she had noticed and she was looking forward to a chalk of wine-coloured at family. Water splashed at the floor at her feet.

Imogen opened her eyes and turned for the soap, but she suddenly realized the soap peach was vacate. There was no shampoo either. Strange. She sighed. The water felt so good she did n't desire to get out.

The water was getting louder and at this point Imogen realized it was pooling at her feet. `` roll in the hay, '' she muttered. She bent down and poked at the waste pipe but it consisted of golf hole drilled in the tile, smooth to the touch. She could n't fix it.

She closed her eyes again. She squeezed her tit lightly, then brought a hand down to rub her clit gently. `` Mmm… '' she moaned. If the photographer had camera in the can, she might as well piddle it worth his while.

The water was up to her ankle joint at this spot and Imogen found it distracting. She stopped what she was doing and decided it was time to get out and complain. She pushed at the threshold, but it would n't shift. She tried pulling, but no effect.

'' Fucking room access is stuck ? '' she asked. Now she was really annoyed. She could n't even get the threshold to rattle, and it was flush against the shower paries so she could n't thrust fingers into the offer and pry it loose. `` Fuck, '' she said again. She kicked at the door, which she immediately realized was pillock, but that had no upshot either. The walls were square. `` Wonder if I can climb out if I get desperate, '' she thought, and then she looked up and saw for the first time that this shower had a ceiling.

Imogen felt concern, but not too concern yet. `` Hey ! '' she yelled. `` Guys, get in here for a sec ? ``

Suddenly the door burst open loudly. It was Emma, who was now defenseless, and the photographer. `` Hey, sorry to bug you but the '' Imogen began, but then she stopped. Something was Weird. Emma 's eyes were opened unnaturally all-embracing, and her face seemed red.

Then Imogen noticed that Emma 's deal were behind her back. From the side, she could see that Emma was handcuffed. `` Emma ? What the ass ? ``

The photographer was behind her with an raging feel on his face. Emma saw Imogen and mouthed, soundlessly, `` assist ! help ! ``

That 's when Imogen saw the black string, probably voice of Emma 's two-piece, around Emma 's neck like a tight mordant rope, correctly under the chin. Emma was being strangled.

'' Shit ! NO ! '' Imogen screamed. The water was up to her knees now. She slammed the water system off in scare, but the water system flow did not blockade. She flipped and twisted the handle, but zippo happened.

The photographer pushed Emma forward and slammed the short blonde into the shower room access. Emma 's knocker were perky but still substantial, probably a C-cup. Her tits pressed against the shower glass. Imogen was shaking in fear now but tried to vocalise brave. `` You PERVERT ! Let her go !, '' Imogen screamed.

Emma was thrashing badly now as the deficiency of atomic number 8 started to fire in her lungs. Her titmouse squashed and rubbed against the glass. Imogen kept screaming in affright. `` Stop it ! NOOO ! ``

She was horrified by the flavor in Emma 's eyes but she could n't look away. Emma 's gaze started looking more remote even as her eubstance fought ferociously, and then her tongue started to stick out. Emma 's eyes looked upwards. Then her eye crossed slightly. `` Oh god, Emma…no, Emma… '' Imogen whimpered.

Emma seemed to still be conscious. With one last burst of vigour she thrashed hard, knocking herself against the glass a few times, jerking and distortion as she tried to fly the coop. It seemed to last forever, while Imogen sobbed. The pee was almost at her waist.

Suddenly Emma 's mouth opened even wider. Her face was regal. Her organic structure stiffen and her head dropped downward as her contraband glossa stuck out even further, which did n't seem possible, then she started to judder. It did n't look like she was struggling, just vibrating hard. Imogen did n't actualize these were the little blonde 's death throes.

Imogen 's creative thinker went into a panic. She started flailing with the shower control grip again, trying to get the water to turn back. She bashed the doorway with her fists. `` help oneself me '' Imogen screamed. `` SOMEBODY HELP MEEE ! ``

Emma was still now and slumped over, dead. The photographer let go of the garrotte and put his hired hand under Emma 's axillary fossa and carried the blonde back towards the toilet. He dropped her and loosen his belt, then quickly stripped off his dungaree, revealing a huge erection. He lifted Emma again and sat on the close toilet lid. `` Oh god, '' Imogen moaned as she watched. `` No ! ``

The lensman put his branch together as he sat and positioned Emma 's remains to sit on his lap, spreading her legs undetermined. He felt for her opened, shaved pussy with his finger, then shifted and repositioned her just right as he leaned back and leaned Emma 's body with him. Imogen watched in revulsion as he slowly pressed his pecker into Emma 's twat. Then he carefully sat upright and began moving his hips ever so slowly, as if to savor the notion inside the dead blonde. Then he looked at Imogen with a inhuman, heavily stare.

The water was past Imogen 's teat now, and they were bobbing and bouncing frantically as she continued pounding at the door. `` HELP MEEE ! '' she screamed. `` SOMEBODEEEEE ! He 's going to kill meeee ! ``

As the pee approached her chin, Imogen tried a new manoeuvre. `` Please, '' she yelled to the photographer. `` Please, I 'll do anything. I wo n't assure anybody ! '' The piss kept rising. Imogen was on tiptoes now, struggling, her tits bouncing beautifully as the underwater weightlessness made them jiggle even more than usual. `` Pleeease ! '' The lensman was moving his rosehip faster now and said zilch, but he was breathing hard. Imogen had to tilt her head back as the water system rose to nose level.

Imogen began to step water as she begged. `` Stop it, delight ! Stop ! '' The water seemed to be rising faster. It had gone past the exhibitioner honker, and water was somehow pouring in through the ceiling corners. Imogen could n't get a good look to see how, nor did she care. She was in hysteric and sob, trying to keep her mind on treading piddle. Her heart were keep out tight instinctively, but that meant she could n't see the roof getting closer as the piddle carried her upward.

She was getting tired already. Then she felt her horn in bump the cap. `` NOOO ! '' she screamed. `` PLEEEASE ! ! '' She had the comportment of mind to engage one recondite intimation, then she felt the body of water cover her mouth.

Imogen opened her eyes in revulsion as the water covered her completely. Oh god, this is it, she thought. Someone get me out of here ! She banged the cap with her fists.

Her panicked intellect was just decipherable enough for her to decide to try the doorway one last-place time. She kicked at the front man of the exhibitor frantically. She was running out of air quickly.

Through the wall, Imogen saw that Emma 's fountainhead was on the floor now, her middle still wide open. The lensman was standing, holding Emma up by the hips as he continued fucking her, thrusting hard.

Imogen 's lungs were on fire. She had to take a breather ! She tried covering her mouth with her hands, trying to oblige the air in longer, but her body betrayed her. Almost like a cough, about half the air in her blew out of her mouth as her lungs tried to take a breather. She was in agony. Her legs were kicking frantically as she began sinking to the floor.

Imogen felt her eyes widen and her mouth open, just like Emma had done. The intellection locked her torso in little terror. Still in a standing emplacement, her branch dropped to her incline as she screamed out what was left of her air, in a gurgling, wordless scream. Then her body breathed in the water, and her torment doubled with the painful sensation of water filling her lungs. She bent backwards and felt her body jerk in huge spasms.

That was the lowest affair she felt. Imogen fell to her knees, her mouth capable, her eyes rolling back and unseeing. Her dresser heaved and heaved again as her lungs continued to try to emit. Her body spasmed uncontrollably sending her mammilla into a delicious dancing of bouncing and floating. The photographer pumped Emma 's dead puss madly and he came hard, deep inside the girl 's clay .