killer woman leotard femdom murder

Amanda The Killer

“Of course we’ll do naughty things,” she cooed in his ear, rubbing herself against him. Her left hand trailed sensually down -“So many…” - his stomach – “naughty…” – to cup his genitals - “things.” She squeezed gently. He inhaled sharply, shivering and his eyelids fluttering closed, and she felt the answering swell. And then he was like a kid at his birthday party, all excited, lips and hands all over her, fumbling, kneading, kissing in the darkness of the SUV. She let him kiss her hungrily, and she kissed him back, albeit in a muted manner, trying not to spur him on, but not to dissuade him either. Then she pushed him back slowly but firmly.

“Calm down Senator,” she said, chuckling softly. “We don’t want you to…finish off before we start, hmm?”

Senator Ola stared at her for a moment as her words sank in through the lust-induced cloud in his brain. He smiled, and cleared his throat. “O-Of course not Amanda…Alright. Let’s go inside.”

He opened the door of the SUV hurriedly, holding on to the door for balance.

“Ooohh… Looks like someone had a little too much to drink tonight,” Amanda said as she picked her bag and opened her door.

Senator Ola chuckled. “Not nearly enough my dear. You’ll see.”

She closed her door as he came around to meet her. He draped his arm around her shoulders, and she smiled softly at him, her white teeth flashing up at him. He leaned down and kissed her, crushing her to his chest, and then he pulled back. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Inside the tastefully-furnished one-storey duplex, Amanda gasped. “It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed.

“You like it?”

She nodded, eyes wide as she stared at the plush, red leather seats that complimented the perfect white of the walls and the plush white carpet, so full and soft that her feet sank into them. The glass table and the electronics gleamed.

“It is one of my houses,” Senator Ola said, his chest swelling with pride. “I could give it to you, if you want…”

Amanda turned and stared at him, eyes wide, pleasantly surprised. “Really?”

“Mhm. But come first, we need to…finish what we started.”


“This way.”

Senator Ola led her to the bedroom, his mind filled with thoughts, images… Up the stairs, down the hallway, and then, into the Master Bedroom.

Immediately the door shut, he was on her, ravenous, his tumescence straining against his trousers. Her lips did wonderful, electrifying things to his, and his nostrils flared.

“Okay, easy now, tiger,” Amanda said, smiling as she pushed him away softly again. “I think you need to go and take a shower. I like my men clean and sweet-smelling.” She leaned in close and purred into his ear. “The night is long…” Then she licked his earlobe, and probed his ear with her tongue. He felt it to his toes, and he grinned hungrily.

In moments, the shower was running, his clothes strewn over the floor, and she was alone in the room. She got ready.

When Senator Ola stepped out of the bathroom in just Boxer shorts, the sight before him made him whistle. Amanda had dimmed the lights, and she stood directly beneath the bulb in the center of the room, her back straight, her poise struck for maximum effect. Her perfect, full breasts, straining against her lacy blue leotard hugged her bum, accentuating her curves. Her body gleamed where the light struck her skin, and the shadows that began from the middle of her stomach down to her inner thighs held so much promise.

Senator Ola was sure he’d stopped breathing. He stepped forward slowly, drinking her in, his eyes feasting on her; her soft smile, her wide, playful eyes. She exuded innocence and sensuality in equal doses; a potent, heady mix that threatened to make him start blabbering. When her hands touched him, all the hairs on his body stood up as though a current had passed through him. Her fingers on his nipples, her lips on his chest, the bed behind his knees. He fell on the bed, and then scuttled backwards till he got to the pillows and made himself comfortable. She crawled in after him, and, back curved, eyes staring intently into his. The world stopped; there was only the two of them. As she straddled him, Senator Ola’s eyes felt as if they were going to pop from their sockets. He reached out and touched first one, and then the other nipple. And then, he was lost in Valhalla. Amanda reached beside the pillow for her handbag, slipped her hand inside, and brought out a blindfold, and four sets of handcuffs. She pulled back and swung them suggestively in front of Senator Ola.

“Mmmm… What do you have in mind?” he asked her.


She blindfolded him, and then handcuffed his hands behind him to the bedposts, and then did the same to his legs, making him spread-eagled. Then she took off his shorts, and took it in his mouth. Then she straddled his stomach, and hooked her legs underneath and around his body, slowly rubbing herself on him.

Senator Ola didn’t really notice anything was wrong until he was halfway dead. The garrotte crushed his larynx, and he bucked, trying to throw her off. Amanda kept her center of gravity low and her face steely as she tightened the garrotte, the thin piano wire biting into his throat, cutting off the blood supply to his brain. He tried to scream, ordered his lips to move, but all that escaped were gasps for air. He strained and stretched, his muscles drawn taut.

And then, his body fell back onto the bed, and all was still.

Amanda held on for a while longer. And then loosened the garrotte. An angry red weal stood out on his neck, her job was well done.

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