Millions In Cash

Paul Whitman woke up in the middle of the night when he heard the noise. When his eyes adjusted to the partial moonlight falling through the window that was the only source of light in the room, he found himself staring at the end of a silenced .22 pistol. Its other end was held by someone partially hidden in the shadows.

"P-p-please don't kill me! I don't have much money! My wife and two kids need me!" Paul spluttered out in terror. The intruder moved towards him. Paul got taken aback when he saw what a terrific body the intruder had. She was about five and a half foot tall, and her bright red hair was tied back in a ponytail. She had great legs which were sure to have an equally sexy ass on the other side. Her face was sexy rather than beautiful. It was complimented by her costume. She was clad from neck to toe in a black cat-burglar type leather costume that stuck to her body tightly, showing off her ample supple breast. She wore an amused grin on her face as she said, "Yeah, right. Your wife and kids can have you as long as I have your money!"

Paul was middle- aged and had a wife and two little girls. He was no treat to the eyes and was badly out of shape. He lived in an apartment on the ground floor. It was cheap and similar to a million others in the city. So his next comment was justified. "I can barely meet the rent in time! Why would you steal from someone like me?!"

The amused grin didn't leave her face as moved near him and told him she would shoot his dick off if he uttered another word unless it was an answer to a question she asked. She proceeded to tie both his legs and both his feet together and then tying them both to two sides of bed, ignoring his look of bewilderment and fear. She used thin nylon rope which she had carried with her on her waist. Paul's limbs were stretched a bit too tightly for his comfort. His discomfort turned to pain when she suddenly pulled out the considerably thick mattress from under him, which now left him suspended due to the sideways tension from the ropes. The fact that the ropes were thin didn't help the pain as they were almost cutting into his skin.

"Now, where is that hidden stash of your drug money?" she asked as she put her gun away and stood on the bed straddling his stomach. Without waiting for a reply she pulled out her legs from under her and landed on his stomach causing him to scream out loud in pain. He continued to yelp in pain as she continued sitting. "Think fast now..." she said, tantalizingly lifting herself before settling back down again. "T-turn the ships picture from clockwise and pull it!" Paul whimpered pathetically.

"Good boy!" she grinned appreciatively and dashed over to do as he said. She found herself staring at a safe. It was not beyond her skill to crack it, but she didn't have the time or the tools with her. She looked at her watch and saw that she had about 45 min left. "What's the combination?" she asked him sweetly. Paul his time to stop panting and calming down before replying. "Please, the money is for my family! My kids need it for college! My wife needs it for her treatment!"

She grinned and said, "And I need it for getting myself a handsome yacht! Now you can tell me the combination now or in about five minutes you are going to beg me to tell me the combination!" Paul thought for a minute and said, "My wife knows the combination. Go ahead and do what you want with me."

"Oh, I intend to!" she said now almost grinning from ear to ear. She pulled out a few books from his table and placed them under his head so that it was no longer hanging backwards. Without much further ado, she got on the bed and sat on his face heavily and unceremoniously. She lifted her legs up and placed them on his crotch and settled down more comfortably. He was taken by surprise and tried to throw her off, but since both his hands and legs were tied on opposite points of the bed, all this did was to give a gentle swinging motion, not unlike that of a boat. She enjoyed this quite a lot and hoped he would keep trying that even though he would realize it was hopeless soon enough.

Angelina didn't really like her job much. Sure, it paid well. Scratch that, it paid a lot. But the problem with her job was that she often had to deal with people like the loser that was currently smothering under her ass. People who were old, unsexy, balding and out of shape. But these people were the richer ones. She wished she could deal with handsome sexy 18 year olds, but they were seldom rich and not as easy as these unenergetic oldies. She once had an 80 year old who was the owner of a movie company. That man had almost died under her rough treatment. She still got handsome returns from that job though.

She had to admit to herself that this particular job was easy. He wasn't guarded by anyone as his money was illegal. And people of his age cracked very easily. Then she suddenly remembered something she had forgotten. Paul hadn't stopped struggling since the moment she sat on him and while enjoying the gentle swinging motion and being lost in his thoughts he had quite forgotten that the leather costume was too airtight for him to breathe even a little bit of air in. She reluctantly got up and settled back down immediately.

His face wasn't turning her on in the way some other faces had in the past, when she had sat on them. His face was chubby and he had a flat nose. She more or less felt like she was sitting on a comfortable cushion rather than a face. This comfort along with the gentle swinging motion from his struggling had put her at ease. She absent mindedly glanced at her watch and saw that she had barely half an hour left. She let him breathe in again. She let him continue breathing for a few seconds before settling back down, since she had forgotten to let him breathe for a little over two minutes. She was quite impressed by the man's ability to hold his breath. Most men had passed out under her if she crossed the two minute mark. But his ability would also be his undoing.

She lit a cigarette and explained to him how this was going to work. She said, "I have barely half an hour left. Now if I don't get that combination by that time, you can say goodbye to your wiener" - she emphasized her point by drawing a line across his dick with the thumb of her foot -- "Now I know that you would sing like a birdie and give me the combination if I was to get off and ask you right now, but you had your chance for that. I will let you breathe at every two minutes. After 4 seconds exactly I'm going to sit right back down, and this is going to continue till the half hour is up." Paul calculated with his asphyxiated brain that this gave him 15 tries to tell her a 5 digit combination. Easy enough. There was no longer a question of whether to give her the combination or not. "It's not as easy as you may think..." she said giggling.

Truth was that Paul had actually almost passed out at the two minute mark initially. He just got air in the nick of time. So as he awaited his first try waiting for her to get off, he soon realized that the suffocation was getting to him. He was even losing focus on what the correct combination was! He got air after another ten seconds and he breathed in greedily as he tried to remember what exactly he was supposed to do. Before he remembered that the pressure returned to his face. He was starting to panic knowing that the next time can only be worse. This continued for the next five tries. Paul came to the conclusion that it was simply not possible.

Angela was also starting to come to the same conclusion. But she didn't want to go back on her work and lax the restrictions placed on him. But this was no fun either. So she added a sub-clause to her earlier statement. She told him that she would let him breathe for more seconds if he was able to arouse her. That was the one thing missing in the situation. Although the 2 minute smothers were turning her on mentally, there was next to nothing in the direction of physical arousal. He desperately began trying to poke his tongue up at the heavy weight on his face. But the pressure was too much to be countered by the force of the tongue and she felt nothing through the leather. His next two tries were also, hence in vain. She sighed and gave up. This guy was useless.

But surprising even himself Paul managed to splutter out the first digit of the combination on the next try just as she sat back down. But this meant less air intake and he almost passed out before the next try. This continued till his last try was up. By then he had managed 3 correct digits and a 4th one was partially audible as she had sat back inconsiderately at the end of exactly 4 seconds. But she still counted it as it sounded like "one", and he poked his tongue up with as much force as he could muster when she sat down. She smiled at his attempt of gesture communication.

But whatever was the case, the time was up as soon as the minute was up and it wasn't looking good for Paul unless he found some way to tell her the combination while she was remaining seated on his face. Nothing of the sort happened. And then the time was up. Angelina sighed and pulled a knife from its sheath on her waist. She ran it lightly across the side of his neck, causing it to bleed ever so lightly, letting him know that she had taken out the knife. He began to twist and turn with newfound energy and survival instincts. But she did not heed any of this and started cutting.

Paul's feet hit the mattress-less bed as the rope typing it to the bed was cut. When she had leaned over to cut the rope, her ass had involuntarily lifted up a fraction and Paul yelled out the 5th digit. Satisfied, she got up, leaving a relieved and panting Paul behind and opened the safe. Sure enough there it was. 3 million in hard cash. She smiled, seeing so much money in cash. Then she went over and finished freeing Paul.

Paul went over to the safe, counted out 5000$ and paid her. "Thank you very much Mistress Angelina..." he said and showed her out the door, smiling like Christmas had come early. "I'm sorry about your wrists, you especially specified that you weren't into masochism, and that you only wanted facesitting..." she said smiling apologetically.

On her way back in her Porsche, Angelina thought to herself that she would never understand what these perverts liked about being sat on the face and being smothered. But she didn't really care as long as the job paid well. And it did pay good. No, scratch that, it paid great!

*

Whew that's it! Got a bit sleepy towards the end, so forgive me if u find any mistakes! And as usual, please give feedbacks...

Btw hows the ending?