Penetrating Her Defenses 2: The Senator's Assistant (stabbing, shooting, forced orgasms, kidnapping)
A sequel to Penetrating Her Defenses, where a spunky young lady bodyguard on a boring assignment gets reminded of what she's really good for.
Now that I've written two stories about sexy Senator Grayley's kidnapping, I think I'm contractually obligated to write about her getting raped and snuffed, huh?
This story stars u/ofixN's character Alex, who has died in many lovely ways on his Pixiv.
Most recent stories:
Stewardess's Slutty Mistake (M/F, con sex to noncon snuff, strangling, brain spiking)
HackCo Products: Emmy's Error (beheading, decapitated head kept alive, mind break)
A Lust like Hatred (cousin incest, blackmail, rape, murder)
The Senator's Assistant
Alex sighed happily as she gathered up electronics and stacked paper. Her boss, Senator Grayley, had just come bursting into the backstage area, blowing out a huge breath and shaking her hands in front of her chest, as she always did after a rally.
“That was a great one, Alex!” the senator said. “I had ‘em eating out of my hand. I’m going to be president, I can just feel it.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Alex said, in a slightly more chipper tone than she felt. She loved working for the senator, but Grayley’s endless energy could be a little tiring.
At 38, Senator Grayley was the odds on favorite to win the next presidential election – a fiery speaker, beloved by her constituency, with a keen sense of when to attack and when to offer conciliation.
Beyond that, she was a stone cold MILF – five foot nine of tight, fit, sculpted body with long blonde hair and a penchant for bright lipstick and bright nail polish. Her piercing green eyes could skewer you or practically fellate you from across the room, and the slightly spicy “candid” pictures she occasionally arranged to have leaked were beat-off material for many politically minded perverts – especially a set of beach photos of the senator and her twenty-year-old daughter in skimpy swimsuits.
Senator Grayley walked into her little green room and shut the door to engage in her normal post-rally social media posting. There was a knock at the door leading to the exit zone. Alex finished wiping her glasses lenses off and looked at the monitor hooked up to the movable camera covering the door and saw a man in Secret Service gear.
He knocked again, and she walked over and unlocked the door, then pulled it open.
She got a good look at the man’s face, and frowned in confusion.
“Agent Kampen? Mike Kampen? You aren’t...”
Mike had been one of the two agents expelled in shame from the Secret Service after being outed for their sick, violent fantasies about Senator Grayley.
“You can’t come in here,” she said firmly, and tried to shut the door.
Mike shouldered his way in easily, brushing Alex aside like she wasn’t even there as he looked quickly around the room.
There was one other assistant present. Chelsea was an intern really, a cute little dark-haired girl just glad to be working on a campaign of such prominence. She looked at the wary, muscular agent with a rabbitlike confusion on her face.
“Hey! Mike, you’re going to get in so much trouble!” Alex protested. “I’m going to have to...”
“Looks like Grayley’s in her green room,” Mike said into his earpiece.
Behind him, another man marched into the room.
Mike clamped his hand over Alex’s mouth and shoved her back against the wall hard, knocking her breath out of her lungs.
Through watering eyes, she saw the other man, Jacobson, raise a suppressed pistol and put a single shot into Chelsea’s pretty young body as the intern gaped at him.
A bright little spurt of red blossomed on the intern’s sweater, and she drew a ragged, hitching breath. It didn’t seem to have quite occurred to her that something like this was possible. Her knees gave out, and she fell down on her butt, feet flat on the floor as she stared in disbelief up at Jacobson.
He cocked his head, looking at her like he was a wolf and she was his prey, and Alex winced but couldn’t look away as he pulled the trigger again, putting a bullet through her other breast.
“I remember this slut,” he said, walking closer. “Always thought she had nice tits under those fucking sweaters.”
He leaned down, jerked Chelsea’s sweater up, to reveal her beautiful, creamy mounds, barely concealed beneath a lacy bra, now running with red as her life’s blood pumped out of her.
The intern squirmed and bubbled something, then coughed, the motion racking her with pain as blood dribbled from her mouth.
“Not bad,” Jacobson said. He gripped Chelsea’s right breast hard with his left hand, drawing a weak, whimpering scream from the girl. “Let’s check...”
He holstered his pistol and thrust his right hand under Chelsea’s skirt, then laughed.
“Every time,” he said, working his fingers into her tight pussy. “She’s a damn river under here.”
Why isn’t she fighting back?! part of Alex’s brain screamed, while somewhere else inside her she repeated Poor Chelsea, poor Chelsea, the poor girl...
Mike grinned. He still had his hand over Alex’s mouth, but her eyes were glued to Chelsea’s molestation. The intern couldn’t protect herself, not with two bullets through her tits and into her lungs, not with blood choking her. All Chelsea could do was give in to the sensations warring in her body. It was cute.
“Like what you see, Alex?” he said.
Her eyes flicked back to his, and he relished the terror there.
“You know, I always kind of liked you,” he said.
Hope flared in her, and he laughed internally as he saw it. There was a faint scrape as he unsheathed a knife.
“The other guys always said you were just a pudgy cum dumpster, but I liked your glasses, and the way you talked to your computer out loud, like you were the only one in the room.”
Alex’s heart was hammering crazily. Her eyes widened as she watched Chelsea’s body convulse, her thighs twisting around Jacobson’s hand as…
“Look at that little whore cumming,” Mike said, chuckling and shaking his head. “He did the same damn thing to that stupid bitch Holloway. You watch her interviews? Uppity little cunt.”
Alex was frozen, desperate to struggle, to escape, unable to decide how to proceed. She wanted to fight, a dozen scenarios playing out in her head – stomping down on Mike’s foot, then bolting for the door.
He’d shoot me in the back.
Jerking her head back to smash his face.
He’d just stab me, oh God.
Agent Holloway was dead. Chelsea was dying, her orgasmic spasms weakening as the blood drained from her body – as she watched, Jacobson drew his pistol with his left hand and planted two more bullets in the girl’s straining chest, drawing faint, sad gurgles.
They must be here for the senator, Alex thought. For revenge. But...
Mike sighed loudly. “You’re probably wondering why Jacobson’s doing all that shit,” he said. “If we’re just mad at Grayley, right?”
Alex nodded as much as she could, with his hand tight on her mouth, holding her head in place.
Maybe if he talks with me he won’t… do it. Oh God, she wanted to live!
Maybe I can...
“Thing is, we just like finally being able to do this shit in real life,” Mike said, and thrust his knife deep in the side of Alex’s belly.
The pain tore into her, making her sob into Mike’s palm. She squirmed against the wall, fresh tears hot on her cheeks as he stepped in close.
“There, you feel that?” he murmured, twisting the knife.
Alex felt it. There was a strange lightness in her chest, as if a weight had been lifted, and she suddenly realized that she wasn’t thinking about escape anymore.
She didn’t have to agonize about whether she could get away. She didn’t have to worry about if he was going to stab her, or shoot her, or strangle her.
He’d already stabbed her.
He had already murdered her, and the agony and fear were mixed with a blissful freedom from responsibility.
Her limbs were filled with a languor that spread through her whole body, and she didn’t resist when Mike sat down and pulled her into his lap. He dropped his hand from her mouth to cup her breast, and she moaned at the contact.
She saw Jacobson put another bullet into Chelsea, who was somehow not quite dead yet, and cross quickly to the door of Grayley’s green room. He kicked it open, stalked inside, and Alex heard a shout of anger that turned into a scream.
“You seem pretty relaxed about all this,” Mike said, and pulled the knife from her side to stab it in her belly, just below her bellybutton.
Alex gave a low, hopeless wail as Mike left the knife there, sticking up from her tummy like a monument, a spear of horrifying pain in her guts as he shoved his right hand into her pants.
“Please don’t kill me,” she said, her voice ragged from pain. “They can still fix me up, man, please...”
Mike let her tits go with his left hand and clumsily tugged the knife free again, then thrust it back into her red and bloody belly.
“How about you shut the fuck up and enjoy this, dummy?” he said in her ear, rubbing her clit, and with a drifting sense of unreality, Alex realized that part of her was enjoying it. She was juicy and wet down there, her hips rolling against his intruding hand.
Jacobson dragged Senator Grayley out of her green room by the hair and flung her on the floor. The blonde hardbody was handcuffed, eyes dull with shock, her shirt torn open to reveal her lacy white bra.
She gave a muffled scream at the sight of Chelsea’s last helpless wriggles as the intern bled her life out on the floor.
“Shouldn’t have fired us, whore,” Jacobson said.
“You were fantasizing about raping me!” the senator sobbed. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Maybe let us fuckin’ do it, I know you rubbed yourself off thinking about it,” Jacobson growled. He took her by the hair and hoisted her up to her high heels, turning her head to look at Alex.
“See what you did? That dumb bitch is going to die, just like Chelsea, just like that idiot Holloway, and none of this would have happened if you’d let us have a little taste of that tight blonde pussy.”
“No! Alex, it’s not my fault!” Grayley said, writhing in Jacobson’s grasp. He laughed at her and mauled her breasts with his right hand, relishing the feeling of her soft flesh under his fingers.
Alex just watched. Her three stab wounds formed one burning mass inside her, flaring with pain and with the horror of death, but she couldn’t pay attention to that. All she could think about was that she didn’t have to worry about it anymore.
She could understand Chelsea’s passivity now. She felt the same thing herself as her hips jerked at a particularly hard rub of her clit.
She saw Senator Grayley’s eyes open wider as the blonde realized that Alex was about to cum, then narrow in disgust.
It’s not my fault! she wanted to say. Silly to feel that need to defend herself, to tell her boss that she didn’t want to cum on the fingers of the man who was slaughtering her. Her traitor body was just… reacting.
Her face scrunched up as it hit her, a wave of sensation that was almost soothing. She felt her hips move against his body as her orgasm briefly shorted out her nervous system, and heard his wicked little laugh.
Then things were whirling, and she screamed feebly as Mike slammed her onto her back on her desk – that in itself felt like a little betrayal, that her own workspace would be her deathbed.
Oh no, I’m bleeding on all my paperwork. The thought came and went, dreamlike.
It barely struck her as strange when his erect cock smacked against her face, pushed at her lips, slid into her mouth.
Part of her wished she had the strength and the will to bite him, but mostly she was just glad that she didn’t feel the obligation to try.
It was over, after all, wasn’t it?
She felt cold, and when he grunted and thrust and his sperm splattered over her face and into her mouth she almost welcomed the sticky warmth of it. She knew she should be ashamed, at being desecrated, at being raped, but she was free from all of that.
She just accepted it.
Slowly, softly, she felt herself slipping away. The knife-wounds carved in her guts were fading to a memory of pain.
Her hands fluttered and fell. Her face relaxed, her head hanging backwards off the edge of the desk, Mike’s semen dripping from her lips to splash on the tip of her nose, then down past her empty eyes to the floor.
“That’s fucking disgusting,” Senator Grayley spat, but her face and her trembling showed that she was shaken to the core.
Jacobson punched her in the belly. She doubled over, retching, and he jerked her head back up and shoved a ball gag in her mouth, buckling it roughly behind her head and tying a makeshift blindfold over her eyes.
“You done there, Mike?”
Mike nodded, wiping his knife off on Alex’s clothes. “Yep. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
They rushed the senator along with them, out past the dying Agent Holloway as she sat miserable and alone, staring at emptiness, out towards the waiting SUV, and towards a nightmare for Senator Grayley.
Posted Oct 5, 2024, 2:02 PM UTC