Jessica
really enjoyed her double life. One, which the whole world knew about. A highly
successful supermodel with her muscular, taut body and gorgeous looks, she had
graced every conceivable magazine known to man. The other about which only she
knew. That of a ruthless killer who loved killing people with her bare hands
with a smile on her face. She needed no reason whatsoever to grab someone by
the throat and strangle him to death. It was a pastime for her which she
enjoyed immensely.
The darker
side of her personality began 5 years ago. She was used to the abuse received
from her alcoholic, worthless husband. She had just started out as a newcomer
in the modelling industry and needed as much support she could get from all
quarters. She knew she could stand up to him in a fight, as she was physically
much stronger than him, being an athlete during her school and college days and
then going onto participate in various fitness competitions all over the world
before being forced to marry Kenny, but she did not as she had no means to
support herself and her 6 year old son. So she endured the abuse as much as she
can without any retaliation and tears in her eyes.
On a fateful
Sunday, she was in her room, posing in front of the mirror in her bikini for
the upcoming competition when she heard noise coming from the kitchen. She
hurried downstairs and what she saw made her blood boil. Kenny was standing
over John, drunk out of his mind, with his belt in his right hand beating his
son without any mercy. Jessica quickly ran up to him and grabbed the belt and
yanked it away from the drunkard.
“What the
hell are you doing, beating a child like that?” she snarled, livid.
“Tell the
punk to respect me or someday I will beat him to death,” Kenny slurred his
speech.
Enraged,
Jessica wanted to kill him then and there but she restrained herself. She bent
down and picked up her semi-conscious son in her arms and carried him to his
room. She gently lowered him into the bed and kissed his forehead.
“What did
you do, bud?” she asked.
“Nothing
mama, I was just playing in the front yard when daddy came to me and told me to
come inside. When I got in, he looked angry and slapped me and I fell down and
then he started beating me,” John trailed off and started to cry.
“I promise
you, bud; daddy will never hurt you again.”
“Promise
mama.”
“Promise.”
Well that
was that. Jessica decided it was time to do something about the situation. She
left her son’s room and stormed to the living room where he found her husband
on the sofa staring blankly at the TV.
She stood in
front of him blocking his sight, her hands on her hips, with looks that could
kill.
“Hey get out
of the way, you bitch. I am watching TV here, and while you are at it, put some
decent clothes on yourself.”
Even before
he had finished speaking, he saw her hands coming towards him and in the next
instant her hands had clamped firmly on his throat. With inhuman strength,
Jessica hauled Kenny off the sofa by the throat, his feet dangling in the air,
a good 8 inches.
“Hey what
you doing, bitch, leave me.”
“How dare
you worthless piece of shit, how dare you beat my son so badly,” she snarled
shaking him like a rag doll. Her grip on his throat tightening with every
passing second, his body still in the air.
“From now
on, you will not touch me or my son, you hear me, Kenny,” her grip on his
throat was now like a vice.
She shook
him vigorously as she realized that she could kill him with her bare hands if
she wanted to.
Strange,
strangled sounds started emanating from Kenny’s throat, as his face started
turning red.
“I can’t
hear you Kenny, I said did you understand?”
“Can’t
breathe, leave me,” said Kenny with much difficulty.
“How does it
feel, you bastard, when you are the one on the receiving end.”
Jessica
slammed Kenny’s body against the wall, both her hands still wrapped around his
scrawny neck. His body still dangling in the air. She was about to let go of
his throat when she realized that Kenny was already dead.
“Good
riddance,” Jessica thought to herself as she threw the dead body on the floor.
That was the
day; she realized she was the dominant one. It made her smile for the first
time in years. She did not have to live in fear anymore and the thing which she
realized one more thing, killing was something she enjoyed immensely. Maybe
this was her calling.
I want a woman to strangle me like this
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