Imogen Dyer obliged, bending forward and pushing her breasts forward, turning sideways to the bright lights. She was topless, wearing a baby blue thong. She shook her brunette tresses and smiled as the camera clicked away. She puckered her lips for a few shots, then closed her eyes and lightly stroked her nipple.
“Great, great,” the photographer Mark Wilkinson said. “That should wrap it up. Your turn, Emma.”
Petite blonde Emma Wagstaff was standing off to the side. She smiled and slid out of her soft white robe, revealing a black string bikini underneath. Emma had a younger, college coed look. She was perky but bustier than you would think. Imogen was taller and more voluptuous with heavy 36C breasts.
“Those lights were pretty hot,” Imogen said as she stepped off the set.
“I know,” the photographer said sympathetically. “Why don’t you go shower off. Take your time.” He indicated a closed 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 room.
Imogen closed the bathroom door behind her. It was a clean, good sized bathroom with a toilet and large sink, thick towels on a rack, and a huge shower with a transparent glass door. Neither Imogen nor Emma had worked with this photographer before but she was happy, he seemed to have a way of putting models at ease.
Wonder if the pervert films his models showering, she though. Well, it’s nothing he hasn’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 pressure just the way she liked it. She turned to the mirror and smiled, and squeezed her natural breasts some more. Photo 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 water ran down her body. This had been a more tiring day than she had noticed and she was looking forward to a glass of wine at home. Water splashed at the floor at her feet.
Imogen opened her eyes and turned for the soap, but she suddenly realized the soap dish was empty. There was no shampoo either. Strange. She sighed. The water felt so good she didn’t want to get out.
The water was getting louder and at this point Imogen realized it was pooling at her feet. “Fuck,” she muttered. She bent down and poked at the drain but it consisted of holes drilled in the tile, smooth to the touch. She couldn’t fix it.
She closed her eyes again. She squeezed her nipples lightly, then brought a hand down to rub her clit gently. “Mmm…” she moaned. If the photographer had cameras in the bathroom, she might as well make it worth his while.
The water was up to her ankles at this point 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 door, but it wouldn’t budge. She tried pulling, but no effect.
“Fucking door is stuck?” she asked. Now she was really annoyed. She couldn’t even get the door to rattle, and it was flush against the shower wall so she couldn’t squeeze fingers into the crack and pry it open. “Fuck,” she said again. She kicked at the door, which she immediately realized was stupid, but that had no effect either. The walls were solid. “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 worried, but not too worried yet. “Hey!” she yelled. “Guys, get in here for a sec?”
Suddenly the door burst open loudly. It was Emma, who was now naked, 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 wide, and her face seemed red.
Then Imogen noticed that Emma’s hands were behind her back. From the side, she could see that Emma was handcuffed. “Emma? What the fuck?”
The photographer was behind her with an angry look on his face. Emma saw Imogen and mouthed, soundlessly, “help! Help!”
That’s when Imogen saw the black string, probably part of Emma’s bikini, around Emma’s neck like a tight black rope, right under the chin. Emma was being strangled.
“Shit! NO!” Imogen screamed. The water was up to her knees now. She slammed the water off in panic, but the water flow did not stop. She flipped and twisted the handle, but nothing happened.
The photographer pushed Emma forward and slammed the little blonde into the shower door. Emma’s tits 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 sound brave. “You PERVERT! Let her go!,” Imogen screamed.
Emma was thrashing badly now as the lack of oxygen started to burn in her lungs. Her tits squashed and rubbed against the glass. Imogen kept screaming in panic. “Stop it! NOOO!”
She was horrified by the look in Emma’s eyes but she couldn’t look away. Emma’s gaze started looking more distant even as her body fought ferociously, and then her tongue started to stick out. Emma’s eyes looked upwards. Then her eyes crossed slightly. “Oh god, Emma…no, Emma…” Imogen whimpered.
Emma seemed to still be conscious. With one last burst of energy she thrashed hard, knocking herself against the glass a few times, jerking and twisting as she tried to escape. It seemed to last forever, while Imogen sobbed. The water was almost at her waist.
Suddenly Emma’s mouth opened even wider. Her face was purple. Her body stiffened and her head dropped downward as her black tongue stuck out even further, which didn’t seem possible, then she started to shake. It didn’t look like she was struggling, just vibrating hard. Imogen didn’t realize these were the little blonde’s death throes.
Imogen’s mind went into a panic. She started flailing with the shower control handle again, trying to get the water to stop. She bashed the door with her fists. “Help me” Imogen screamed. “SOMEBODY HELP MEEE!”
Emma was still now and slumped over, dead. The photographer let go of the garotte and put his hands under Emma’s armpits and carried the blonde back towards the toilet. He dropped her and undid his belt, then quickly stripped off his jeans, revealing a huge erection. He lifted Emma again and sat on the closed toilet lid. “Oh god,” Imogen moaned as she watched. “No!”
The photographer put his legs together as he sat and positioned Emma’s corpse to sit on his lap, spreading her legs open. He felt for her opened, shaved pussy with his fingers, then shifted and repositioned her just right as he leaned back and leaned Emma’s body with him. Imogen watched in horror as he slowly pressed his cock into Emma’s pussy. Then he carefully sat upright and began moving his hips ever so slowly, as if to savor the feeling inside the dead blonde. Then he looked at Imogen with a cold, hard stare.
The water was past Imogen’s tits 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 water approached her chin, Imogen tried a new tactic. “Please,” she yelled to the photographer. “Please, I’ll do anything. I won’t tell anybody!” The water 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 photographer was moving his hips faster now and said nothing, but he was breathing hard. Imogen had to tilt her head back as the water rose to nose level.
Imogen began to tread water as she begged. “Stop it, please! Stop!” The water seemed to be rising faster. It had gone past the shower nozzle, and water was somehow pouring in through the ceiling corners. Imogen couldn’t get a good look to see how, nor did she care. She was in hysterics and sobbing, trying to keep her mind on treading water. Her eyes were shut tight instinctively, but that meant she couldn’t see the ceiling getting closer as the water carried her upward.
She was getting tired already. Then she felt her nose bump the ceiling. “NOOO!” she screamed. “PLEEEASE!!” She had the presence of mind to take one deep breath, then she felt the water cover her mouth.
Imogen opened her eyes in horror as the water covered her completely. Oh god, this is it, she thought. Someone get me out of here! She banged the ceiling with her fists.
Her panicked mind was just clear enough for her to decide to try the door one last time. She kicked at the front of the shower frantically. She was running out of air quickly.
Through the wall, Imogen saw that Emma’s head was on the floor now, her eyes still wide open. The photographer was standing, holding Emma up by the hips as he continued fucking her, thrusting hard.
Imogen’s lungs were on fire. She had to breathe! She tried covering her mouth with her hands, trying to hold 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 breathe. 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 thought locked her body in terror. Still in a standing position, her arms dropped to her sides as she screamed out what was left of her air, in a gurgling, wordless scream. Then her body breathed in the water, and her agony doubled with the pain of water filling her lungs. She bent backwards and felt her body jerk in huge spasms.
That was the last thing she felt. Imogen fell to her knees, her mouth open, her eyes rolling back and unseeing. Her chest heaved and heaved again as her lungs continued to try to breathe. Her body spasmed uncontrollably sending her tits into a delicious dance of bouncing and floating. The photographer pumped Emma’s dead pussy madly and he came hard, deep inside the girl’s corpse.
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