Perhaps a brief discussion of the setting is necessary before the devil continues to play in his circle of hell.  Moira slept in an ominous setting, surrounded by leathers and straps, modern devices of torture, remnants of history that ought to be forgotten, technology that should have never been made.  Housed within these four walls were some of Gabriel’s most wicked contraptions, all crafted with the intent to apply them on his poor, darling Moira.  While he claimed Vasha as his significant other, Gabriel claimed his sister as his slave (though she was free to do as she pleased when he was not around) and the subject to his terror-inspired rule.  It was truly wicked of him to have Moira help in the construction of the devices that would carefully undo her, and it was even more so that Gabriel ought to force her to sleep in the shadow of such wicked devices.  But Vasha and he, always connected by their sexes, laughed with glee when poor Moira suffered.<br/><br/>For a space of minutes, he had Vasha’s head attached to his pelvis, feverishly suckling his softening dick hungrily.  What was the bitch doing?  He thought.  Was she trying to eat his cock off?  The Captain of the Pequod couldn’t help but look at Vasha with disdain as she scratched the paint off of his favorite toy, so to speak, and he very nearly snatched her by the throat to shove his cock inside her mouth to choke her.  Eyes narrowed as his patience was tested; he hated it when Vasha rubbed his dick raw with her sharp teeth.  He stretched his bionic arm in front of him and, from a compartment in his forearm, revealed a long cigar.  He placed the cigar on the cliffside of his bottom lip, lit it with a small contraption that lay underneath the surface of his metallic thumb and took a long draw as he arched his body backwards, at least attempting to enjoy the vampire’s dick cleaning.<br/><br/>A few words about the arm, since it shall come of use in a few moments:  it was a bionic arm that increased his strength and aim with small arms pistols, but it housed a number of compartments and contained a few useful items which made life in deep space bearable.  Essentially, the arm was a glorified Swiss Army Knife, with blades, portable heating devices, communicators, healing kits, etc.<br/><br/>As Vasha eased off his cock, he grasped her hair tightly, pulled her head back so hard that, had she been a normal human, he would have snapped her neck, and then, he fucked her mouth with his tongue.  Arching an eyebrow and snarling, he dropped her to allow her to go to Moira.  He watched as Vasha began to eat Moira’s asshole out.  Standing there in his combat boots, the cyborg assassin leaned on one hip, stroking his growing cock.  He emitted a weak moan as Vasha sliced Moira’s flesh, the sight of his sister’s blood juxtaposed on her ivory skin.  Sitting behind Vasha, he placed his hand on her hip and kissed the base of her spine as she worked… working his way up until he was kissing the back of her cranium.  He would whisper in Vasha’s ear,  “You cut that bitch up, baby… You cut that fucking bitch up.  I love you, baby…  do you know how much I love to fuck you, baby?  God, you fuck so good, Vasha.  You’re the best fucker in the galaxy.  You look so fucking good, you know that?  Look at that ass!”  As he said this, he bit her ass.    “… Cut that bitch up,” he hissed, whispering in her ear.<br/><br/>Kissing Vasha on the cheek, he reached over to Moira and pinched her bruised lips.  He slid his dirty fingers in between her lips, pressing them against her teeth, prying them open.  Then, he shoved his fingers deep into her mouth, touching the tiny bell in the back of her throat.  No, he didn’t stop until almost his entire hand, with the exception of his thumb, was submerged inside Moira’s mouth.  As he treated Moira so cruelly, he tenderly kissed Vasha’s neck and shoulders, almost as if the two were on a picnic.<br/><br/>Then, Gabriel stood up suddenly, wiping the spit off of his fingertips—tasting his own flesh as if he was tasting fish sticks.  Walking across the room, he opened a metallic cabinet on the wall.  Inside the cabinet were five large five gallon plastic bottles, all containing different sorts of oils.  He picked one up, singing to himself an old tune as he watched his girls play, smiling.  This was a man who was at the BBQ, watching his children play, loving life.  Then he walked to the kitchenette, where a large pot lay on a burner.  He poured the oil into the pot and turned on the burner.  As it bubbled, he turned to look at Foon Foon.<br/><br/>“Foon Foon, my dear lad,”  he said, approaching him.  The man was on the ground beside him, talking to him through the purple cocoon that enslaved him.  “Foon Foon, I sincerely must apologize.  You’re not going to like what I’m going to do to you.  No, no… I’m not going to kill you.  None of us are.”  Slowly, he began to undo the cocoon from around the man’s hips and pelvis, revealing his limp penis.  Gabriel flicked the tip of his penis hard.  Then, he grabbed it and slowly rubbed it, smirking at Foon Foon’s incapacitated body.   “Does this feel good, Foon Foon?  Do you like it when I jerk you off?”  he said in a hushed manner.  Drawing a tremendous loogie, he spit on Foon Foon’s dick.  Gabriel sat Foon Foon up, then rolled him over to his knees and positioned him so that his ass was in the air.  Naughtily, Gabriel spit on the man’s asshole, shoving a finger down his rectum.  Spreading his legs just enough so that he might fit his hand in between his thighs, Gabriel milked his cock until he forced the man to cum.  The very act of forcing a man to cum greatly inspired the Pequod’s captain, because his cock was now quite stiff.  All Foon Foon could do was scream, but it, too was muffled.<br/><br/>Then, Gabriel lifted the man up and dragged him to a metallic plank.  He positioned Foon Foon’s chest on the cold, metallic plank, and then bound his arms behind the plank and his legs to a stirrup attached to one of the plank’s legs.  Gabriel then began to crank a hydraulic gear, which lifted the Asian man’s body up so that his hips were level with his.  Gabriel slapped his ass, and then, seeming to enjoy it, did it again.  The man’s ass was covered with red handprints.<br/><br/>“Do you like your present?” Gabriel asked.   “Do you like your present, you stupid slut?  I got him just for you.  I could have sent him in pieces, but no… I thought that maybe Moira might want him.  And I know that my Moira loves it when I bring her toys.”   As he said this, he peeled the purple cocoon off of his mark, revealing a sensible, but dangerous looking, Asian man.   “You should look at his asshole, baby.  It’s tight.  I’m tempted to kiss it, but I think Foon Foon would like it too much.”<br/><br/>OOC:  Believe it or not, this was going to be a four page post!<br/><br/>