If any of the starters catches your eye, we can move them over to a dedicated thread to continue to the story! If you have any questions feel free to PM.<br/><br/><div class="bbCodeSpoiler">
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<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">Salvation</span></span>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">The sizzling of the shrimp and vegetables in the wok carried a salty, spicy smell throughout the apartment. Logan Thomas had a craving all day during his workday for stir fry after seeing one his coworkers bring PF Chang’s for lunch. He set down the wok to check on the cupcakes in the oven, the double chocolate aroma involuntarily watering his mouth. Unlike many people his age, Logan enjoyed cooking his own meals at home, eschewing take out for a lack of quality compared to home cooked meals as well as budgetary discipline. Finances were not a concern for Logan as his contract work in the field of Cybersecurity brought home over $100,000 annually, more than enough for a single man living in an apartment with a rent of $1200/month. Along with his IT work, Logan received $2973.86 a month for a 100% disability due to an amputation of his arm “above the insertion of the pronator teres” and an “amputation around the knee where the knee cannot be used” according to the standards of the Veterans Administration.<br/>
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Logan Thomas obtained a medical discharge from the United States Army Rangers after being injured in an IED blast during a mission in Yemen. He discharged with the rank of Sergeant (E-5) while receiving U.S. Army Distinguished Service Medal, the Silver Star, a Purple Heart, and the Meritorious Service Medal. His units of service included the 2nd Ranger Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment and the 3rd Special Forces Group Airborne of the US Army Special Forces or Green Berets. After returning home from the Army, Logan resettled into his hometown of Nashville, quickly finding work in the IT industry as a security consultant due to his training in the Army in counterintelligence, communications and cyber warfare. Logan had offers from security companies in the area of Virginia surrounding DC where both government and private security firms sought his employment. While Logan would always be a Ranger and indebted to the United States as his home, he decided that a quieter lifestyle of helping protect businesses from financial fraud or viruses was better than continuing to combat terrorists and foreign actors hostile to the United States.<br/>
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Currently Logan was on a 15 month contract with various schools around the city, training their IT teams, auditing their computer security systems and provide recommendations to ensure they have proper protections against data infiltration and unauthorized access. His current client was Vanderbilt University, one of the best universities in the United States. During his time at Vanderbilt, Logan had become reacquainted with his best friend and secret crush Taya Draven.<br/>
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Logan and Taya had known each other since he was sixth grade, their friendship beginning in the lunchroom when the both of them were eating the same chicken salad sandwich and fries from Chick-Fil-A. The conversation was innocent enough, discussing why they liked the sandwich and what else they ordered from the extremely popular fast food chain and soon a deep friendship formed that carried through the rest of their middle and high school years together. Upon graduation, Logan enlisted in the US Army while Taya went on her own path to pursue her dreams. Their separation did not stymie their communication as Anna would write letters with Logan to keep him company and in a positive mindset. Whenever he would come home to visit, Logan would always make sure to set aside some time to catch up with Taya and enjoy her company.<br/>
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Three years into his time in service, however, Logan stopped receiving letters from Anna. Unsure why, Logan had assumed that Anna had found a significant other who did not appreciate her writing letters to an attractive, single man in the US Army. During of his breaks at home, Logan had struggled to make contact with Anna, despite repeated calls, text messages and emails. Finally one day Anna told him to meet at a discreet location where she could talk. Confused, Logan drove out to meet her to learn that her boyfriend Harry was as controlling and abusive as they come. Anna felt trapped and unsure what to do, hoping Logan would provide her with a solution to her issues. Before Logan could offer his advice, Anna told him to hide in the bushes as Harry’s car was driving down the road, looking for her. Anna eventually hailed him down and tentatively entered the vehicle. Logan observed the heated exchange and watched as Harry hit her several times with his fist and an open beer bottle before speeding off into the night.<br/>
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Stunned, Logan went home and tried to reestablish contact with Anna but was unable to do so. He was tempted to call the police but was concerned that doing so may place Anna in even more harm than she may already be in. Logan knew from his experiences with a few of his fellow soldiers that the police were often slow to find permanent solutions to domestic violence and that retaliation for reaching out to law enforcement tended only increase the abuse. Logan was frustrated that he couldn’t do more since the next day he was due to go back on another tour of duty. After leaving the next morning, several years passed until he would reconnect with Anna again at the animal shelter. Unlike before, Logan and Anna were able to maintain close communication and have a semblance of a normal friendship again, albeit with Anna in an abusive relationship and Logan always wrestling with his romantic interest in her.<br/>
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Logan finished eating the stir fry then watched a documentary on Netflix about dolphins before going to bed at 2200. Normally a heavy sleeper, Logan found himself waking up to go to the bathroom for a quick pee. When he returned to his bed, Logan checked his phone and noticed he had a missed call from Anna. He took a deep breath and listened to the tense voicemail she had left him. <i>Help? Really, really need my help? Come get me? Parthenon?  </i>Logan’s thoughts thundered around his head as he tried to sort out exactly what was going on and what had caused her desperation.<br/>
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<i>Harry must have beat her pretty bad tonight. She is scared and needs to get away. I need to pick her up at Centennial Park and bring her here. </i>And then what? Shelter her long term from her abusive and controlling boyfriend? Cover for her absence at the animal shelter, explaining she had contracted an illness (which, in a sense, was true)? Regardless of what he would do after tonight, Logan knew he had no choice but to pick her up and bring her to safety. Quickly putting on a black Adidas logo T-shirt and matching jogger pants and shoes, Logan walked into his closet to grab a pair of extra clothes in case Anna needed to change. Walking next to his nightstand, Logan pulled out his Sig Sauer P938 9mm pistol and after safety checking and loading the gun, placed it into a holster then slid it into his pocket. He walked out into the kitchen and grabbed the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet as well as two bottles of water and a few power bars. Throwing all the supplies into a small duffel bag, Logan left the apartment and headed downstairs to make the 15 minute drive to Centennial Park.<br/>
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The 2018 Honda Ridgeline Black Edition reached Centennial Park in under eight minutes thanks to the good favor of green lights all the way. Once at the park, Logan texted Anna his location on the back row of parks in front of the Parthenon and waited, hoping that Anna’s injuries were not serious and he would be able to care for her.</div>
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<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title"> The Lighthouse</span></span>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">The Captain was exhausted after his cross Atlantic voyage. He and the crew had just returned from another convoy mission delivering supplies to Europe to help against the Germans during WWII. Out of the 10 ships that left port, only their ship had made it past the German U-Boats without a burial at sea. The <i>Beautiful Liberty </i>had outmaneuvered several torpedo assaults due to his firm command of the Bridge when chaos was erupting all around them. A few men had died when cargo fell on their heads as they dodged the submarines but otherwise the crew was alive, minus bumps, bruises and a few ruptured ear drums.<br/>
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As they neared the Eastern shores of the United States, a deep fog enveloped the lone vessel, reducing visibility to less than 1/3rd of a nautical mile. Leaning on his Naval Academy experience, the Captain slowed down the ship down to 2 knots, or less than 10 miles an hour. He then commanded the navigational crew to place on the spotlights to try and make out where land was. Minute after minute passed with only the fog covered bridge visible to him. <i>Where is the damn lighthouse,</i> he thought to himself. Typically the ship’s crew would have already seen the guiding light in the darkness, directing them to safe harbor. Without its guidance, the crew were praying fervently that the course they had set on prior to entering the bay would lead them true.<br/>
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It was not to be.<br/>
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The lookout had barely been able to shout “Rocks ahead!” before the ship crashed into their razor’s edge points. Pandemonium quickly ensued as the crew went flying all around the ships, a few falling into the frigid waters of the Atlantic. The Captain quickly rose to his feet, immediately ordering a head count to see who was missing. Before the count could finished, a large explosion tore a gaping hole on the bow, the aftermath of the fuel being ignited by sparks caused by the collision with the shore. “Abandon ship!” cries echoed through the chaotic scene, flames rapidly consuming the <i>Beautiful Liberty.</i><br/>
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Staying true to his training, the Captain refused to leave the ship until every man had gone overboard. There was no time to lower the lifeboats. They would have to take their chances in the freezing water and violent tides. Once he was certain everyone who had remained alive after the explosion was off the ship, the Captain navigated around burned corpses of his crew to make his way into the deep. As he began to leap, another explosion threw him overboard, plunging him into the water with unintended haste. Disoriented, the Captain steadied himself under the water before rising up, taking care to follow the bubbles so he did not swim down to his death. Once he broke the water’s surface, the waves began to thrash him amount, placing him perilously close to the fine edged rocks along the shore. Debris continued to fly off the ship, landing with crashes into the water until a particular piece marked for him landed square on his head, rendering him unconscious.<br/>
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After several minutes, the waves carried him to a safe point of the shore, away from the sharp rocks. The Captain was hauled out of the water by an unknown woman and laid to rest on the soaked sand. As he laid upon the sand, the woman began to try and rouse him, hoping to bring him back from the brink before the tide rose again. Slowly, the man’s consciousness was restored and he peered up at the warm face crouched over him. His head felt warm as the blood continued to pour down his face. He needed assistance quickly lest he bleed out and perish with the rest of his crew.</div>
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<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">A Police Story</span></span>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">“You have the meeting with Ms. Pembroke in five minutes.” Diane Summers, James’ office secretary, kindly reminded him. He was sitting down at his desk, peering over a recently closed court case for a murder in a penthouse suite on The Gold Coast. The reason for the crime were straightforward enough (jealous wife of an unfaithful husband); how she executed him was particularly gruesome. The woman had drugged her husband, bound him naked to the bed where she had caught him and proceeded to cut off every single appendage on his hands and feet, pour hot water on his exposed groin area then poured battery acid down his throat. <i>She wasn’t lacking for creativity, he thought.</i><br/>
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Thanks to his meticulous ability to document every relevant piece of evidence at a crime scene, James had been able to secure a conviction of life without parole for the woman, ensuring that no future lovers had to be at risk of drinking battery acid due to infidelity. Satisfied, James closed the manila folder and placed it inside a locked drawer in his office. He checked his phone for the time and noticed he had a message from Warren Johnson, his daughter Tiffany’s parole officer. She had gotten into another fight at the juvenile detention center and had six months added to her sentence. The added time put her perilously close to when she turned 18 and would have to be transferred to adult prison, a situation he was trying to do everything he could to prevent.<br/>
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When Tiffany and her twin sister Tatiana were 13 years old, their mother died while serving as an EOD officer in Afghanistan, her body ripped to shreds by an IED. Not long after James and his daughters had buried Diana at Arlington National Cemetery (so honored because she had died as a result of rescuing five of her soldiers who were pinned down in a ravine and was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor), Tiffany became increasingly moodier and isolated with James and her sister who had Autism Spectrum Disorder. Several drunken nights and bong hits later, Tiffany was arrested and placed in juvenile detention at age 14. She had been released at 15, turned 16 and obtained her driver’s license, then proceeded to get a DWI and vehicular assault for injuring a pedestrian.<br/>
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Every one of his friends told him not to blame himself. <i>Look how well you show love and support to Tatiana. She has never hurt a fly. Sometimes twins can’t be kept apart from one another and other times they are completely different. Don’t blame yourself. Losing a mother is hard for everyone and people grieve and different ways. Tiffany turned to substances despite your loving relationship with her. Not all apples stayed close to the tree.</i><br/>
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And yet James was never comforted by these platitudes. How could people who have never lost their wife of 15 years, the mother of their children and a female veteran who had seen more time in direct combat than any before her understand his pain? How could they possibly think their generic sympathies would soothe his soul? When his beloved daughter sat in solitary confinement for assault of a fellow student and her twin dealt with bullying at a private school she had gone to her whole life? There is not a chance that anyone around him could truly understand what he was going through. So while he was at work he hardened himself, citing the reasons as the constant sight of dead and mutilated bodies rather than the mutilated heart within his chest.<br/>
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Reminiscing had to end, however. He had to welcome in his new partner, something he had zero desire to take on at the moment. She was only 24, 13 years younger than he, barely old enough not to be a peer of his children. Why the department thought this new training program for green cadets was a good idea, he would never understand. But as the good soldier, he scooped up his coffee off the desk, placed his Chicago Police Department badge around his neck and headed down the elevator to greet his new trainee.<br/>
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Once at the bottom, he stepped through the doors and looked down at the young blond woman sitting by the elevator.<br/>
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<i>Jesus Christ, is she even old enough to drink?:</i><br/>
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Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and expounded as much pleasantry as he could. <br/>
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“I’m Detective Wilder. I presume you are Ms. Pembroke?”</div>
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<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">Inception Verse</span></span>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">“Your plane has been booked for the 21st of December, sir. It will depart at 4 o’clock in the afternoon as requested. Anything else I can do for you today sir?” <br/>
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“No, that will be all Guillermo.”<br/>
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Aris hung up the phone without so much as a courtesy goodbye. His mood was sullen, annoyed at the fact that his winter holiday in Germany and Switzerland was being cut short by an unexpected case. Normally he would have pushed off such a last minute meeting but the individual who was requesting his time was someone he couldn't ignore. <br/>
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Aris had known Delilah for over fifteen years, their connection brought on by their wealthy families’ socials and gatherings. Being several years older, Aris has never thought much of Delilah when they were younger. Her outgoing and precocious personality wasn't something he had much interest in. He was more reserved, wary of trusting people of whom he did not have intimate relations. <br/>
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After his mother died when he was six, his father remarried several times, trying to find someone who could replace the love and warmth of his deceased wife. He might as well have tried to stop the flow of the ocean with a cardboard box because no one could ever compare to his mother. Her nurturing spirit was unequaled, full of graciousness and patience. Aris and her were extremely close, more than any other of his five siblings. But after she died, Aris lost the connection he had with his father, for he was treated in a manner more akin to a business partner than a son. <br/>
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It was Aris who gave his father’s company the edge in the Dreamscape industry with his revolutionary combination of psychotropic drugs and nootropic drugs. Aris’ patented techniques earned his father’s company the highest market share of Dream manipulation in the United States and second in the world only behind the Chinese mega corporation headed by Li Yu-Yang. Aris’ unparalleled intelligence placed him as one of the finest Forger-Chemist in the world, giving him vast amounts of resources and wealth. <br/>
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Despite the seemingly perfect life, Aris was not content. He spent so much time under that his normal relationships grew ever more strained. He hadn’t been on an official date in years, despite his expanding bank account and strong physical features. Relations with his co workers was cordial at best, dispensing orders and instructions with a cold indifference. He was becoming more and more frustrated with what he saw as people came to him with their issues.<br/>
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Messy divorces, domestic abuse, drug addiction and the like were all part of his workload, despite him only doing the toughest (and richest) of cases. Aris could only imitate so many lost lovers and missing parental figures before he began to lose sense of who he was. And who was he exactly? The highest graduate ever to leave Harvard and MIT? The world’s most successful businessman at age 30, amassing over $25 billion in assets, not including the undisclosed amount he kept anonymously in private banks around the world? People’s magazine's “Most Eligible Bachelor” seven years in a row? What had all the fame and fortune brought him but a burgeoning depression and unstable social life?<br/>
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His musings were cut short when he heard a knock on the door. Aris switched over to the camera feed outside his door. His secretary, Mrs. Clemons, had let in his next appointment, the one who had delayed his early vacation. He watched the appointee as she straightened her hair and reveal a small smile. Delilah Wilson had certainly grown up since he had last seen her. She had blossomed into womanhood with her unique features well proportioned on her body.<br/>
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Her brown curly hair fell neatly on her shoulders, complimenting her smooth, fair skin. Those arresting blue eyes seemed to have become more profound as she aged, like a fine Chardonnay from Bordeaux year 1975. Her lips had grown as well, softly glossed pink, accentuating their fullness. Her neck was as he remembered as she moved her hair away from touching it. <i>Still sensitive I see. </i>He followed her A line skirt down as it began to cross over her sumptuous breasts…<br/>
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Aris cut off the camera. He had lingered much longer than he had anticipated behind his desk. He stood up and walked over to a full length mirror to observe himself. His grey suit with purple tie and pocket square continued to display an unassuming standard of wealth and power. He checked the time on his Rolex, a recent gift from a thankful widow. <i>No time like the present.</i><br/>
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Aris walked over to the door, took a deep breath and slowly pulled it open to face the woman he had been unconsciously staring at only moments before.</div>
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<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">2150</span></span>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">“Why the hell am I so nervous man? It isn’t the money; $40 million is pocket change for me? Is it because I designed her myself? I made this company, I am the one who brought it to life with your help. And yet I’m sitting here, stressing for no good reason.”<br/>
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Carsten was sitting inside his private plane on the private tarmac at the BRG facility, talking to his AI BeeDee about the situation at hand. <br/>
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“I think sir that your stress is coming from a fear that you may grow attached to this woman you created and that she will not return the favor of her own volition but rather reciprocate only for self preservation” BeeDee said with his usual clinical detachment shrouded by an English accent.<br/>
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“I swear I should have put a sensitivity program into your code, Bee.”<br/>
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“You did sir but sometimes the direct truth brings the optimal results. Now, you have brought this woman out from a life of poverty and an uncertain future into one that no other woman has ever been before. Yes, the other members of the Five Alphas have created their ideal woman here before but this is a momentous occasion! The founder and co creator (along with myself) of the Black Rain Group, the preeminent human exchange on the earth. Men and women come from far and wide to have their choice of the finest specimens available. No expense too large, no detail too minute. The BRG is the pinnacle of-”<br/>
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“We wrote the headline biography together my friend. Where are you going with this?”<br/>
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BeeDee walked over and knelt before Carsten, bringing his face into his hands. Aurora was the humanoid body Carsten and BeeDee had created together as a top secret experiment to test the ability of an AI to reside in human form. The ultimate goal for this experiment was unknown to both parties but they knew that at some point in the future the ability to reside artificial intelligence inside a human form may be the key to eliminating death as a facet of human life. Today, Carsten and Aurora were focused on securing the newest member of Carsten’s harem, hoping that the transition from captured youth to dutiful slave would be a smooth transition.<br/>
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“Carsten,” Aurora spoke with a soft womanly Southern accent, “You will be fine. I’m going to be right beside you. She is yours. You are the one in control, not her. So come on, they are waiting.”<br/>
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Aurora stepped back as Carsten stood up. Despite his 6’3” frame, Aurora was taller than him, her height reaching 6’7” with her four inch heels and long, toned legs. <br/>
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“How do I look?” Carsten asked sheepishly as if a boy going to prom.<br/>
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Carsten had chosen to wear his best suit, a dark grey ensemble accentuated by a purple necktie with matching handkerchief, an Ark Systems Aviator timepiece and a golden ring on his right pinky finger. <br/>
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“You look how you always look, which is striking. You are a handsome man. At the very least she will like that about you.”<br/>
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Carsten nodded and walked to descend down the stairs with Aurora trailing behind him. At the bottom awaited his security detail, a group with classified information as to their size and strength in order to provide the maximum protection for the most valuable person in the RNA. Some of his security team were visible in their matching navy suits and special glasses which had surveillance technology developed exclusively for the protection of their employer. Other members of the team were hidden in plain sight, outside of their uniform but nevertheless present and ready to act at a moment’s notice. One of the team's biggest advantages was the inclusion of women into the group, allowing for Carsten to enter into any situation regardless of another person’s gender preferences and still have maximum protection.<br/>
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Foremost among the women overseeing his protection was Aurora herself, linking the entire security detail with her neural network, relaying information from their surroundings by the petabyte. <br/>
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Carsten had requested for the staff members of the Montana facility not greet him; they were to wait in an adjacent room until he had finished his assessment of his new purchase. After passing through several layers of security, Carsten instructed that only he and Aurora would enter the room and that the monitors would be shut off until he finished his assessment. While he had no aversion to seeing her nude, Carsten did not want to reveal the woman to anyone who was not Beedee and himself. The Security happily complied (as if they could protest with the all seeing Aurora around) and he entered the room.<br/>
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The door sealed behind him and Aurora confirmed that they were in ‘isolation’ and that Carsten could move and interact freely.<br/>
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At first Carsten couldn’t move, his eyes transfixed on the woman bound at the other side of the room. She was chained by a restraint around her neck attached to the wall, her hands tied behind her back while she was also blindfolded. She was wearing prominent high heels and a black robe, but, according to Aurora, nothing else laid underneath (her certainty coming from sensors in her eyes which were akin to ‘x-ray vision’).<br/>
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Despite his initial nervousness, a sudden protective feeling washed over him. There she was, the woman he had been waiting years for and paid a large sum to acquire, dressed and formed into the exact person he wanted. Taking a deep breath, Carsten was about to walk to her when he heard her cry out ‘<i>Hello?</i>’ with a tinge of fear in her voice. Undaunted, Carsten walked over to her, reached behind her head to remove the blindfold and pulled it off while remaining no more than six inches from her face.<br/>
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Carsten’s light grey eyes stared directly into the woman’s without losing their gaze, admiring the blueish green of her irises. After what seemed to be an eternity, Carsten stepped back a foot and began to elaborate to the woman on her situation with unfiltered detail.<br/>
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“My name is Carsten Elianus Owens. There will be no need to call me that name at any point unless this situation dramatically changes. You will call me Lord Owens or Master Owens. Nothing else will be accepted. As for you, Emilia Rae Greyson is gone. Your name is Owens-Scalava Tatiana. ‘Owens’ denotes the family who owns you, ‘Scalava’ is “female slave” in Latin and your personal name is ‘Tatiana’. When identifying yourself, say to authorities or other citizens not of your status, you say your name in the exact order I presented to you. The reason you are here is because I have purchased you at high cost to be my personal slave. What that means is that unless specifically denoted by me, and no other, you will remain at my side at all times. You will eat with me, you will help me bathe, you will help me dress and you will sleep with me.”<br/>
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Carsten noticed Tatiana’s eyes widen as she heard him speak supposedly of involuntary sex. He blushed lightly and quickly assuage her fears.<br/>
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“This is not a sexual dynamic. When I mean sleep with me, I mean just that, sleep in bed with me. I have no interest in a sexual slave. Now, your job is to be my public escort, an always attentive companion and personal assistant who handles the day to day nuances of my life, of which there are many. On the plane to my home Aurora here will give you the rundown of who I am. I have done it a thousand times in my life and at some point I need a break. Speaking of Aurora, come over here please.”<br/>
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“Yes, my Lord,” Aurora spoke confidently.<br/>
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Aurora began to walk at the moment the word ‘<i>please’</i> left his mouth, moving not a moment too soon or too late. She came forward and lightly nodded her head towards Tatiana. <br/>
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“This is Aurora. She will be your guardian at times when I am not directly in your presence. Aurora will also be your monitor 24/7 and your go-to if you have any questions or issues transitioning to my home. She is the Headmistress of my harem and is to be obeyed as my plenipotentiary during my absence. You may call her Aurora. No other prefix is required.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Now, I need to ensure that you have arrived without blemish. So, I am going to untie you, loosen your neck restraint and have you walk forward a few feet. Do you understand?”<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Tatiana gave a hesitant nod and allowed Carsten to loosen her bonds so she could step forward.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“For future reference,” Carsten chimed in, “I’m not going to ask if you understand after this first meeting. I will expect immediate compliance with any request with a ‘Yes, my Lord’ or ‘Yes, Master Owens.’ Are we clear on this?”<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“Yes, Master Owens.” Tatiana and Aurora both affirmed his command.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Without speaking, Carsten removed the necklace from Tatiana and placed it on the ground. He instructed her to lean on him and remove her heels, which she did without hesitation. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Carsten then stepped forward towards Tatiana, his body pressing against hers. He reached up and undid the rope around her waist and removed the robe from her body, revealing her nude form.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Beginning at her head, Carsten ran her fingers through her hair, feeling her scalp for any dryness or discoloration. Satisfied, he moved down to her face, running his fingers along her eyebrows, cheekbones, nose and lips. A momentary twinge brought a desire to kiss her but he did not entertain such pleasures. Before moving down, he told Tatiana to scrunch and release her forehead to reveal any stress marks. None displayed themselves so Carsten moved on.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
He lifted up her head to examine her neck, satisfied with the absence of any folded skin or protruding veins. Carsten then ran his hands down her shoulders and arms, nodding approvingly at her supple skin and the presence of hair on her arms.. He lifted up her arms to reveal a small gathering of hair exactly how he liked it - Carsten did not consider hair to be a detriment to feminine beauty but rather a natural part of the human form, thus he desired that they not shave any parts of their body outside of any facial hair. If someone gave them a hard time, Carsten would swifty reprimand the offender. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Moving to her breasts, Carsten felt their form with a non-sexual detachment, examining more for the workmanship of the plastic surgery than any sort of sexual pleasure (although even someone as compartmentalized as Carsten still felt a slight swelling of his phallic member). After the breast examination, Carsten walked behind Tatiana to examine her rear parts. Her back was perfectly formed and sculpted, her toned muscles residing taut under her skin. Carsten took his hands and ran them down her posterior, noting once more the the expertise of the PRAO plastic surgeons. He walked back around to her front but positioned himself behind Aurora who was standing nearby.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
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Aurora snapped her fingers and immediately a examination bed moved into the room. Gesturing with her hand, Aurora directed Tatiana to place herself upon the bed and put her feet into the stirrups. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“Aurora is going to do a visual cervix exam only as confirmation that you have not had sex with anyone or have had objects placed inside of you.” <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Aurora went through the exam without incident, noting that nothing was abnormal. Aurora then directed Tatiana to flip over on the bed and to get on her hands and knees. Carsten’s attention to detail was acute, pushing him to make sure she had no anal penetration as well. Aurora gently examined her rectum and saw no signs of penetration and instructed her to stand up and place herself before Carsten.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“Everything checks out,” Carsten explained, “There isn’t anything else we need to do here. Oh! Except one more thing.”<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Aurora instinctively knew what he was referring to and pulled out of her bag a small black device and handed it to Carsten. He pushed a switch on the Branding Machine, grabbed Tatiana’s right wrist, and placed the device against the underside of her forearm. A sharp pain coursed through Tatiana’s body as the device etched a tattoo on her arm. The tattoo was eight inches long and consisted of a male lion’s head with a sword behind the head: the coat of arms for the House of Carsten’s harem. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“This mark is not only physical but digital as within the ink there are nano transmitters that contain identifying information about your status, who you belong to, and any other relevant information. No other family has this symbol, thus you are mine and mine alone.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
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Now, you have been here far too long and I believe we are all ready to leave. Aurora, would you call in Ms. Nunez? Tell her to bring a purple dress for Tatiana, please.”</div>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">The sounds of flesh hitting the torso reverberated through the gym. Swift punches to the face and abdomen, powerful kicks to the head and ribs along with elbows to the face displayed a fighting prowess on par with any professional fighter around the world. Laurent Garnier was no fighter for UFC or any other MMA league. He was the head of the Narduzzi family’s Security division, a collection of the most brutal, efficient and trustworthy men and women that the Narduzzi family had. As the Lead, Laurent handled only the most sensitive and important cases for the Family, leaving the mundane tasks to his subordinates. A former Navy SEAL of DEVGRU (popularly known at SEAL Team Six), Laurent had been trained not to be the best of the best but the best of the best among the elites at the top of their game.<br/>
<br/>
Laurent’s skill tree was extensive, allowing him to handle any situation that came before him. From a martial arts perspective, Laurent was proficient in Muay Thai, Brazilian Jijutsu, Krav Maga and boxing, giving him a wide range of attacks and counterattacks that had yet to be stopped in a fight. Regarding firearms, Laurent trained with them all: semi-automatic pistols, revolvers, shotguns, bolt action rifles, semi-automatic “sniper” rifles, grenade launcher, AR-15 style rifles and a host of firearms banned by the National Firearms Act. His time with the Navy SEALs also taught him skills such as advanced climbing and rope usage, close quarter combat, VIP protection, advanced driving skills and SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape), a program that taught how to avoid capture as well as escape if captured by the enemy.<br/>
<br/>
Such a wide array of skills combined with a disillusionment with the government and military after he got out drew Laurent away from the clean and legal civilian life into a much darker and highly illegal criminal underworld. After being recruited into the Narduzzi Family, Laurent quickly ascended the ranks until he became the current head of the family Boris Narduzzi’s top “problem solver” as the family denoted his position. Intimidation, punishment, money laundering protection and kidnapping were all facets of Family life that Laurent was either directly involved in or over saw. Unlike most criminal families which maintained a singular, vertical hierarchy the Narduzzi Family modeled the Executive Branch of the United States where “cabinet” members had a wide range of authority and directive to execute whatever Boris wanted. If one continued the analogy out further, Laurent would be the equivalent of the Secretary of Defense, the department which consumed the most money and resources yet provided the backbone and stability that the Family needed to survive. When budgets were drawn, and funds appropriated, Laurent always received his first for his “department” for no one was able to replicate the efficiency and swiftness in which he executed his tasks.<br/>
<br/>
Despite seemingly equal power and status, Laurent’s division handling security and protection naturally afforded him a closer proximity to Boris daily, with a resulting favoritism organically taking root. Rivalries and jealousies at times threatened to cause divisions and power struggles that would destabilize the Family’s daily operations, Laurent would take his skills normally used on outsiders and turned them inward to remind the offenders that division warrants punishment and punishment could be a severe beating or worse.<br/>
<br/>
Today, however, Laurent would (hopefully) not need to use any of his more “specialized techniques” as a meeting with a rival family was in order with the goal of reducing the increasing police threat upon their criminal activities.<br/>
<br/>
--<br/>
<br/>
Laurent’s alarm sounded as he landed another elbow strike to the face of the training dummy. The alarm indicated that he had an hour to get showered, dressed and in route to the location for the meeting. After a few finishing blows, Laurent wiped his face down and walked out of the Family’s private gym and headed to his personal locker room to shower. He quickly stripped his clothing and stepped into the shower, enjoying the warm water falling over his neck. The amount of beauty products inside his shower would rival any woman’s: six different kinds of soaps, four types of shampoo, three conditioners, two sea sponges, a back washer, two loofahs and several essential oil scents lined the shower’s walls. A stickler for cleanliness, Laurent maintained a level of hygiene and crispness that if not for the intimidation factor would be a source of derision and mocking from other Family members. Only Boris would sometimes give Laurent a hard time for how much he cared about his hygiene but even he kept the jokes to a minimum for Laurent was not one to be warm and hospitable with anyone, making tonight’s meeting a challenge that The Boss wasn’t sure how he would handle it.<br/>
<br/>
Once his shower was complete, Laurent stepped out of the shower and dried himself off while checking his appearance in the mirror. Light blue eyes set within a light brown skinned frame was an uncommon sight about his mixed heritage of African American and White. Longer than normal eyelashes for a male further made Laurent a walking contradiction with his model style face and soft, unassuming voice. His body was seemingly hewn from pure granite as every vein, line and crease of his frame was meticulously sharpened by daily workouts and a strict eating regimen he had been following since he joined the Navy SEALS at 17 years old. Now 33, Laurent gave off the impression of a NFL linebacker at his absolute peak, the assumption only made stronger by his 6’4” 230 lbs. frame and a body fat percentage of 4%. To further advance his physical prowess, Laurent combined natural supplements such as whey protein and casein with synthetic enhancements such as Oxandrolone, Winstrol, Trenbolone and blood doping agents.<br/>
<br/>
Laurent stepped into the closet adjacent to the bathroom and pulled out a purple and grey three-piece suit ensemble that would serve as his outfit for the meeting. Before placing on his clothes, Laurent scanned through several watches until he settled onto a silver and gold Rolex Submariner, a gift from the successful execution of a police officer three months ago. Putting on the suit took little time, giving Laurent plenty of time to pick out his weapons for the evening.<br/>
<br/>
The Sig Sauer P226 MK-25 from his SEAL days was a requirement no matter the situation. Along with the Sig that rested in a IWB side holster, Laurent placed a Glock G26 in appendix carry to the left side of his belt buckle. Around his shoulders he placed on a custom leather knife holster which held a 7” KA-BAR USMC Fighting Knife. Satisfied he was properly armed, Laurent placed on his suit jacket and buttoned the top button before stepping out of his locker room and walking outside.<br/>
<br/>
Waiting for him were several blacked-out Chevrolet Suburbans with two BMW 760is in the middle. Laurent stepped into the second BMW in the lineup on the right side as one of his subordinates opened the door for him. Inside to his left sat the Boss himself who handed him a pre-lit cigar.<br/>
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“Try to be on your best behavior, Laurie.” The Boss said to Laurent. “We need to have this partnership to make sure we can continue to operate as normal.”<br/>
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Laurent nodded as he took a long draw from the cigar before letting the smoke out, its ethereal wisps permeating the cabin.<br/>
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“I’m ready when you are, sir.” Laurent indicated to Boris crisply.<br/>
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The Boss looked forward, gave a simple nod, telling the driver to alert the convoy that it was time to move towards an uncertain future and the most unlikely of alliances.</div>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">“Thanks for the sandwich, Bruno. I’ll see you tomorrow.”<br/>
<br/>
Marcus stepped out of the Italian supermarket and headed down the sidewalk. The store was Marcus picked up his Prosciutto with burrata sandwich was his daily lunch spot, a popular market which prepared authentic Italian sandwiches and other dishes along with offering a supermarket of specialty foods and drinks. Every day the store offered a daily special/happy hour where one could get a sandwich and chips for $5.99, a very good deal considering the normal price of $8.99 for a combo. Marcus never had to worry about making sure he went during the happy hour to get a good deal; he simply would ask Bruno for a sandwich and he would provide it free of charge, no questions asked.<br/>
<br/>
Understanding the extent of his telepathic powers was subtle for Marcus at first. A lack of challenge in academics, being able to persuade his parents to relent from their threatened punishment, turning the school bullies from aggression to docility. Such things Marcus chalked up to a charming demeanor and skilled debating skills. Soon, however, Marcus noticed that his mind went far beyond persuading people to see his opinion as correct but actual mind manipulation which compelled others to do as he pleased.<br/>
<br/>
The full extent of Marcus’ powers had yet to be fully tested but what he was gifted with was more than enough to ensure his life went exactly as he wanted to. Some of Marcus’ telepathic powers included the following: the ability to ascertain the thoughts of others as well as place his thoughts into theirs, projection of mental illusions, induce memory loss or complete amnesia, cause physical or mental paralysis on a temporary basis, manipulation of people’s senses to either heighten their sensitivity or dull their abilities and distort someone’s reality to make himself appear invisible.<br/>
<br/>
When Marcus first had the revelation that he could bend the people around him to his will, he became drunk with power, setting up a life of complete luxury. No woman was beyond his charm, no car was too expensive for him to drive and no object was beyond his means to afford. For a decade Marcus lived as the unknown king of the world able to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. The life of complete hedonism was enjoyable for a time but eventually Marcus found himself feeling dissatisfied with the way his life turned out.<br/>
<br/>
What caused Marcus to enter a state of major depression escaped the abilities of his telepathic powers. Marcus lost count of how many psychologists and psychiatrists he visited to try and find the source of his despair. Medication after medication was prescribed to him, even though Marcus knew his telepathy prevented any medication from influencing his mind. He tried to turn to other substances, hoping to escape the pain that was tormenting his mind. Cocaine failed him; heroin laughed at his misery; opiates derided him; marijuana pitied him, and meth scorned him. Marcus couldn’t even get drunk because latent regenerative abilities combined with his telepathic powers kept his mind in a perpetual state of sobriety and sadness.<br/>
<br/>
One day, however, as he sat down on his couch watching mindless reality TV, the source of Marcus’s depression came crashing down with unrelenting fury.<br/>
<br/>
He was alone.<br/>
<br/>
Not alone in the sense that he did not have friends who liked him without him influencing their minds or family who did not support him in every way, but Marcus Evanston was alone by being the only individual with gifts and powers that could manipulate the world around him. The day the truth came down on him pushed Marcus to weep for hours, his cries reverberating through the gold-plated walls of his mansion. The pain and anguish tore his heart in two, sending Marcus down into the abyss of despair of which he saw no means of salvation. At the bottom of the pit Marcus decided that living was no longer a pain he could bear, prompting him to walk into his closet to pull out a shotgun and load it with a 3” magnum slug round. Lifting the firearm with his mind, Marcus placed the shotgun six inches from his face and pulled the trigger, spreading his brain matter all over his gilded walls.<br/>
<br/>
And then he woke up.<br/>
<br/>
Marcus had never been injured before, causing him to be ignorant of the fact that he possessed regenerative abilities that prevented him from being wounded in any capacity. As he sat up with his shirt covered in blood, Marcus looked around and observed his own brain matter spread along the walls. Upon seeing his physical invulnerability, all Marcus could do was laugh uncontrollably, rolling around on the blood-soaked ground at the realization that he would be forever alone without anyone who could fully understand him.<br/>
<br/>
Until he met Delilah.<br/>
<br/>
--<br/>
<br/>
Marcus had taken a few bites of his sandwich when he saw the bird on top of the armored van shift its form into a masked woman. Marcus tilted his head as he tried to make sense of what was going on until he witnessed the woman punch her way through the roof and descend into the rear compartment. His eyes grew wide as the events unfolded, with the guards shouting at the woman to come out followed by the bear crashing through the rear doors. The gunshots from the guards had no effect and she immediately changed into a bald eagle and flew away with a large sum of cash in her claws.<br/>
<br/>
He never lost sight of the woman as she left, following her with his mind as he observed her land on a roof under some scaffolding. Unable to completely absorb the situation, Marcus walked down an alley and used his telekinesis to propel him up to the rooftop and behind some air ducts to keep himself hidden from the woman.<br/>
<br/>
Marcus pushed himself into her mind, ascertaining that her theft was to cover basic needs and necessities as well as a sense of thrill at being impervious to harm. He was in a state of shock at encountering someone who was a non-human, prompting him to step from behind the ducting to reveal himself, taking a bite of his sandwich as he did so.<br/>
<br/>
“You know, there are much easier ways to steal. Ways that are much less…. conspicuous.”</div>
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