"<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(0, 0, 0)"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'arial'">My mother. . . God rest her wicked, rotten, soul. . . Always told me... about this thing called. . . ' The Good Book'</span></i></b></span>"<br/><br/>Some where in a room, deep behind various curtains, sound proof doors, sets of different security measures and a surprising amount of lubricant, leather and sweat of all sorts, there was a fully grown man, hanging horizontal, supported only by what god bestowed upon him between his legs.<br/><br/>The man strained heavily, trying to support his weight by reaching out with his hands and feet,  just barely able to touch the floor for some kind of release from the agony, a black bag encased his head, making his already panicked breath all the more frantic. Two woman, a brunette in what could possibly pass as a incredibly under-dressed slutty nurse and a blonde in some sort of get up that definitely came from out of mad max having awful, sloppy, UGLY intercourse with a demonic power ranger, stood on either side of this desperate male.  Each lovely lady waited next to a crank, which appeared to be linked to the device this unfortunate bastard found himself in. The soft burn at the end of a lit cigar came from some where off to the side, away from the lights and spectacle that was the main show.<br/><br/>"<i><b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(0, 0, 0)">. . . She would tell me the stories. . . tell me the virtues. . . tell me the passages...</span></b></i>"<br/><br/>A weak whine slid out from the main attraction, his whole world disoriented by the angle, the tension and the voice. This voice managed to penetrate all that stress he was going through, made him listen, made him want to know what was being said. Both because it had a deep raspy rumble to it from too much booze, smoke and rage- and also because it meant he may survive this fucking mess. He muttered in his absolute desperation, tried to peace together some kind of pleading mercy. Then a strong smell of burnt tobacco, choked his labored breaths, tears stained the soaked bag as a vein threaded hand clutched his soaked head and lifted it upwards. There came a dark rich chuckle from on high, as the hand grabbed the hood, releasing it from the tormented males head, causing the man's neck to give away and the weight of the fall transferred to the main source of his hanging hell.<br/><br/>"<b><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(0, 0, 0)">But I was always fond of a separate aspect of all that religious mumbo jumbo shit... Sloth. . . Pride. . . Greed, Envy, Gluttony..... Wrath..... Lust.</span></i></b>" The figure exhaled a low growl of a sound. The women seemed to tremble, it being difficult to say from exactly what at that exact moment. That harsh burnt smoke smell managed to overcome all the shame and sex in the room, as if this person was slowly enveloping the entire area with just his presence.<br/>"<b><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(0, 0, 0)">Because, ya see. . . we all got our vices. Our. . . weak points. We're all trying to get some where and fuck something, or kill another thing. . . just to get through it all. . . just to make it another fucking day. . .</span></i></b>" The owner of that tongue and mouth smiled, and some how the three other people in the room knew. He casually moved over to the Heavy Metal Mistress, lifting a massive hand up and cupping her jaw like a bear lifting an apple. "<b><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(0, 0, 0)">. . . You did fine work today, Miss Bennatol. . . Expect a copy of the show real soon like. . . Your still living at home with your supreme court judge daddy, hm?</span></i></b>" A pair of pretty sapphire eyes lit up, flashing upwards to the man, then over to the brunette, whose usually alluring light brown oculars held a state of suspended shock and disbelief. Then disgust, as she and the blond- her head free from that meaty grasp- looked to the tormented male, still fading in and out from the extended time in such a truly horrendous situation. The bar that was holding him gave way, his entire form crashing to the floor in a broken clump. A tattered moan escaped him as he finally succumbed to it all. The blond dominatrix shook, unable to look away at the pile of flesh. "<b><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(0, 0, 0)">Get one of the guys to take her back home safe and sound like, Jasper. After ya clean her up and get her proper clothed of course. . .</span></i></b>"<br/>The 'Nurse' scrambled over to the blond haired, leather clad statue, who was shaking her head slowly in complete terror. This Jasper cursed under her breath, grabbing the blond and rushing her out, shaking her luxurious head of dark brown hair. "<b><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(0, 0, 0)">Oh, and don't worry. We'll get dear ole dad up and at 'em quick as can be. . .</span></i></b>" The heap of whimpering meat let out another moan, trying to regain some kind of senses. The speaker, chuckled once more, looking up into a camera, and winking.<br/><br/><br/>________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________<br/><br/><a class="link link--external" href="https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b8/d3/86/b8d3868457e32e6b6eea48a9a1eb6dec.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Stu</a>stopped the recording, nodding slowly before taking a generous sip of his Balvenie malt whisky, washing it down with a puff from a fresh Gurkha coffin stake. Hearing his office door shift, he switched to cable, Baseball, some recorded segment from the day before. It was always good to get a look at the odds before heading over to put some money down on the next game.  At least that's what he'd tell Nicole, her sultry voice traveling into the room. He found a genuine smile come to his face. There was something about a well build woman in her prime that could easily melt peoples hearts and stimulate other parts so simply that just. . . well, made his life a whole lot more interesting.<br/>"<b><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(0, 0, 0)">Wouldn't miss it for the world. . .</span></i></b>"<br/>After the short conversation with his real life MVP, Stu finished his poisons, readying for the day,  and ultimately the  very important meal and meeting to night.