The Competition [Insanity, Anje, Elya and Wick]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Insanityenviesme on 26-12-2014, 11:13:06</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Competition [Insanity, Anje, Elya and Wick]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Insanityenviesme</strong> on <strong>26-12-2014, 11:13:06</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i2.listal.com/image/437775/300full.jpg)</div> Workaholic lifestyles are impossible to disown. He began, as all men with ambition did, adhering his energies to a vision. Though it sprung from a misguided inspiration. He had seen <em>A Few Good Men</em> for one Mr Jack Nicholson. But what he saw was a rookie lawyer berating a decorated general into self inflicted disgrace. <br><br>That blustery winter night turned into spring in full bloom for Michael Kaplan. His child's heart had done much the same of what Tom Cruise did, berating him for finding a natural alignment with manipulation and deceit.&nbsp; But instead of wilting, the darkness scavenged strength from a piece of fiction and rose. By his next birthday, Michael cozied up to the right people, dug into and discovered the wrong people's dirt, garnered support for himself and, for all intents and purposes, took over his orphanage. He was fifteen. He stole the Main Street paper route from an older kid who enjoyed untoward magazines and in due course, secured a clerk's post at the DA's office. <br><br>His occupation disguised his intelligence and its enormity. People in power tended to forget how vulnerable they could really be. Soon enough, a lowly clerk had the attorney general himself in his pocket. Darla Sloane, occasional prostitute and his next door neighbor the time. Even now, he ensured a monthly stipend reached her. <br><br>'Sir?'<br><br>Kaplan snapped back to reality. The momentary mist that had built over his keen, dark pupils faded to reveal the calculating mind within, <br><br>''The Jenson complaint. Their case hinges on the security guard's testimony. Get me everything from his favorite cereal to his juvey records," his own clerk nodded and took leave of the spacious office. Extravagant hardwood furnishings settled artfully well with his three beige couches surrounding the magnificent glass coffee table. The far wall was home to a couple of abstract neo-modernist paintings which had an unnatural ability to calm him as did the book shelf stocked with 18th century literature, primarily English. An intricately designed, handcrafted&nbsp; Japanese rug hid the floor whilst his desk, made of the richest mahogany, featured authentic puzzle box he had secured at auction. A vivid view of the city's majestic skyline bounded in through the floor to ceiling windows on one side of his desk. <br><br>Michael was now 35 years old. He headed the legal department of Mayflower Records. He was married to the CEO for four happy years and three more recent ones best described as 'going through the motions'. They had a dinner date tonight. He jabbed his finger on the intercom, "Oh, Malcom, cancel my dinner with Mrs Kaplan, please. I'll have to stay late". <br><br>The clerk's scrambled voice sounded in the affirmative and Michael leaned back in his chair. Today was his wife's day off. The situation simply begged to be exploited. He slid his phone out of his pocket and texted his daughter. <br><br><em>Daddy's hungry</em>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Competition [Insanity, Anje, Elya and Wick]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>SomethingWicked</strong> on <strong>13-01-2015, 17:41:23</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/WPmrwfk.png)</div>"Daddy's hungry? What on earth...?" Elizabeth Hearst muttered to herself as she stood in the middle of their family kitchen and stared down at her twin sister's phone. The kitchen was large and rather extravagant, just like her mother and step-father. There had always been something about Michael Kaplan that Eliza looked up to. Of course there was the initial teen angst when she first met him — who was he to come into the lives of her mother and sister and take over things? But in the end, Eliza had taken to him, though perhaps not quite as well as her twin sister. "Who even refers to themselves as 'daddy'...especially when he's not our actual father."<br><br>Quickly the senior red head seemed to grow antsy. Her weight shifted from side to side, and that telltale sign of her biting the lower corner of her lips...she was about to do something she might regret. Eliza's fingers tapped restlessly against the granite counter tops and with one sly little look around the kitchen she reached for the abandoned cell phone. After all, it was Ellie's fault that she left it laying around, right?<br><br><em>Should I bring him lunch at work?</em><br><br>Her fingers worked their magic. A teenager's dexterity of having been texting for most of her life, or so it would seem. It hadn't always been this good for the girls, but she just chalked it up to being raised by a single mom making it on her own. At any rate, Eliza couldn't help but tap her foot impatiently as she easily swapped her phone for her sister's. She really couldn't have been more happy in moments like these that the two of them were identical, right down to most of their electronics.<br><br>Eliza didn't even wait for a reply from Michael; she simply grabbed her purse, keys and sauntered to the door to put on her shoes. One last look in the foyer mirror to adjust her cropped t-shirt and high-waisted short shorts, and she was out the door. "Ellie! I'm going out!" She called quickly before shutting the door behind her and bouncing down to her car.<br><br>Again, things were extravagant now. Eliza had a car; it wasn't anything fancy, but it was new, which was more than most teenagers her age could say about their modes of transportation. It was like second nature the way Eliza slid into the driver's seat and started her car. She would stop on the way to pick up some food for Michael...after all, he was hungry.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Competition [Insanity, Anje, Elya and Wick]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anjelita</strong> on <strong>20-02-2015, 11:30:22</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://imageserver.moviepilot.com/936full-amy-adams-amy-adams-vs-gal-gadot-lois-lane-vs-wonder-woman-who-will-come-out-on-top-in-batman-vs-superman.jpeg?width=936&amp;height=1257)<br></div>A day off was a novel concept for Magnolia; someone far too used to working long days at a company she'd as soon call her baby as she did either of her twin daughters. She built it from the ground up, and that pride showed itself in everything she did. Maggie was driven; perhaps to a fault. She did not fail. It just wasn't even an option to be up for consideration. The pursuits of perfection and success were the two foremost in her mind. So why on earth did it feel like there was failure in something that should have been easy? An area of her life that, granted, waned after the honeymoon stage due to business as usual, she couldn't understand why it had become increasingly difficult to find the time to reconnect with the one man who had managed to work his way into her life.<br><br>A deep sigh fell from plush lips as she gave herself a gentle shake. It was fine. Everything would be fine and tonight? She had every intention of not only rekindling that flame but making it rage until that fire licked at the clouds of heaven and those pearly gates. A day at the spa had her nerves relaxed, her body massaged, her quim waxed. She'd had her hair done, make-up applied, nails painted a fire engine red, fingers and toes. She even had an outfit at the ready for the night waiting for her at home and a little surprise to hide beneath it, if all went as planned and her sweet husband couldn't help himself but to strip her bare and find what lay beneath for him. She had every intention of making sure that would be executed.&nbsp; She missed that intimacy that was more than just a kiss goodnight followed by a kiss good morning. Maggie wanted more. She needed more. With a body that had men drooling wherever she went, it just wasn't possible that he didn't find her attractive anymore. She hasn't let herself go - she took too much pride in her appearance. But she couldn't stand by and watch the two of them be left unfulfilled.<br><br>Maggie was excited and actually looking forward to the evening, even with that cloud looming overhead, that niggling feeling that balled up in the pit of her stomach that told her tonight would end up like every other night she tried to plan before this - cancelled and with her all dressed up with nowhere to go and a subsequent martini in hand.<br><br>The spa she attended had strict rules of no cell phones. Most members were forced to leave them at the door. Spa policy. But with a few Benjamins crossing easily greased palms, she was granted permission to leave it in the changing room with her other belongings. She felt good. No, she felt better than good. She felt <em>fantastic</em>. The attendant held her things and handed them to her one at a time. A pair of black lace panties was the first to slip up those lightly sun-kisses legs, long lengths, slender but not without substance and strength, to settle at the apex of them, fingertips running the smooth pads along the edge of the waist to settle them into place. She reached for her bra next, shrugging into it, hooking the closures at the back she leaned forward and gave ample breasts a gentle shimmy to settle them into the cups, soft tissue piled high to accentuate her cleavage and the voluptuousness of that curve.&nbsp; &nbsp;Settling herself to sit on the bench she motioned for the attendant to hand her the&nbsp; pair of silk thigh highs that she rolled up long , perfectly smooth and glistening legs, one at a time, pulling the lace tops to settle high on her thighs, the thick band that would peek at the hem of her skirt once she'd donned it was lined with a bit of rubber to help them stay up. It was when she rose to her feet and plucked the shirt from the attendant that she heard her phone vibrate, sat atop the wooden slatted bench. With furrowed brows and a sudden sinking feeling she picked up the <div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">phone</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://www.vipluxuryphones.cn/images/vertu/Ascent%20Ti%20Gold%20Fine%20Leather/w_main.jpg)</div></div>, turning it over with practiced precision to see the number and name that popped up on the sapphire display. Before she was answering she was shaking her head.<br><br>"Malcolm...yes... Oh? You don't say, huh? Late again. And what exactly is he working on?" A bitter laugh rang from her lips. "You're not at liberty to say? You do know who I am right? Mmhmm good. No. No message for him." There was no thank you and no goodbye as her thumb pressed the end call button and fingers gripped her phone in silent rage. Her jaw worked as teeth clenched and eyes closed to fight back the anger that roiled in her veins. "That son of a..." She took a deep breath. All the work she had put into this. The hours of trying to relax, trying to look absolutely perfect for <em>him</em> and <em>again</em> she was being met with disappointment. Nostrils flared as fists fell clenched to her side and she forced herself to concentrate on counting silently in her head, waiting for the initial haze of fury to clear. Suffice to say? She was livid. And it showed as clear blue eyes were revealed beneath a dark fan of lashes and she turned towards her now fidgeting attendant, shrugging one arm into her shirt she handed off her phone, pausing a moment with furrowed brows and a suddenly impish cast overtaking her features.<br><br>"Do me a favour doll?" Maggie donned the sweetest smile she could muster but even that held a wickedly impish cast to it. Taking back her phone with haste, she clicked the buttons until the camera was activated and handed it back to the attendant. "Take a picture for me," it wasn't a request; her tone was dripping with authority while a not-so-foreign but certainly old and almost forgotten thrill made her heart beat faster in her chest. The attendant stared back at her, unmoving for a moment while Maggie took up a seductive stance, tossing her hair a bit, tugging the shoulder of her shirt and bra down to bare more skin, arching her back to accentuate her perfect pert little rear. "C'mon then I don't have all day!" She snapped her fingers and the attendant jumped, shaken from her stupor and momentarily lapse of stupidity. Fumbling awkwardly with the phone she clicked the button and handed it back to Maggie with flushed cheeks. "For someone used to seeing people naked you're certainly a shy one," she snorted a short laugh as she took a look at the picture and smiled to herself, her lips tugging into a playful curve. "Let's see if he can resist this, hmm?" With one hand on her hip and her shirt all askew, she tapped the buttons rapidly, lacquered nails in frenzied flight.<br><br><em>Are you sure you want to pass </em><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">this</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/f3/38/6c/f3386c95569839edfff5887a7a8b2906.jpg)</div></div> up?[/i]
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Competition [Insanity, Anje, Elya and Wick]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Insanityenviesme</strong> on <strong>24-02-2015, 07:47:47</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i2.listal.com/image/437775/300full.jpg)</div> "Why did it have to inch along?" <br><br>His thumbs appeared fascinated in climbing over each other. The vast and empty office seemed to amplify the silence. And the anticipation. Occasionally it grew too much so he would leap out of the chair and pace. Patience was never his strong suit, lesser still where sex was concerned. Perhaps he should take refuge within his fantasies? <br><br>The thought struck him whilst he had been gazing absentmindedly at the city sprawled beneath his feet. A bustling mass of life - people, cars, restaurants, other offices, the meticulously hidden strip club - and he towered over them all. He felt his ego smile, and his lips followed suit. The curve grew as he recognized the Jaguar Coupe that slid into halt outside Mario's. He always did like how the name could be construed as a pizza joint as much as the whorehouse it was. A thickset man stepped out, looking utterly lost and all too nervous. <br><br>"I knew you couldn't resist, you old relic," he spoke even as fingers flew over his cell. The bait had been set three days ago at the weekly poker game and here was the high and mighty Mr Salinas ready and willing to forget his precious morals for the sake of three minutes with one of Mario's girls. A reply flew into his phone from Jasmine, "Camera's set. You'll have him eating out of your hands by the hour, Daddy"<br><br>He had the CEO of his nearest competition trapped by the balls. How could this day get any better? <br><br>Perhaps his phone had heard him. The ding of a new message drew him away from watching the portly idiot hurrying after a tall, leggy brunette. "Salinas, you son of a bitch. How could you ever believe she would ever go for you?<br><br>"Jasmine, you delightful little tart. What do you have for me now?"<br><br>It wasn't her though. It wasn't his Ellie either. <br><br>"Holy fuck, Maggie!"<br><br>His knees went weak, something he had noticed when they had first begun dating. Here she was, barely more than eight inches tall and trapped inside a touchscreen, and still she robbed his composure. She would allow nothing save the best to drape her and the lace she had chosen appeared almost royal. Yet they barely kept the secrets of her figure. Michael leered at his wife's butt, so fit and fine. He remembered the awe that had held him when she had taught him that he was an ass man. They had traveled to a seedy, off-the-beaten-path hotel on a whim. She had wanted to roleplay as a slut he'd picked up, and the painstakingly detailed striptease had left no doubt over his preference for that beautiful, firm, plush derriere. <br><br>But it had been years since they'd done anything so spontaneous. So much that he was astounded that Maggie sexted. What was he to do? The strain in his pants was yelling at him to ask her to come over. The last remaining shred of common sense bellowed he had his daughter coming over for a goddamn quickie any minute. <br><br>But that ass... <br><br>"If you dare to walk up to my office dressed like that, you're on"<br><br>Michael took another look at the picture, felt his cock jump in delight and promptly pressed send. <br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Competition [Insanity, Anje, Elya and Wick]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>SomethingWicked</strong> on <strong>03-03-2015, 05:07:34</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/WPmrwfk.png)</div> Eliza really had no idea what had prompted her to take her sister's phone, let along take up Ellie's persona as she wandered into the office building. Maybe it was boredom, or maybe it was the nagging curiosity as to why Michael Kaplan was referring to himself as 'daddy'. <em>A weird fetish?</em> The thought crossed Eliza's mind, but with a soft laugh she shook her head. "There is no possible way Michael would be into that...not with mom looking the way she does."<br><br>The slender framed girl leaned against the wall of the elevator as she watched the numbers of the floors tick by. Her foot tapped impatiently on the floor and just as she felt herself thinking how stupid this was, the door opened with a ding and it was now or never. Eliza sauntered into the office space, smiling sweetly to the employees that she passed before coming to the reception desk.<br><br>"Hi," she did her best to adopt Ellie's mannerisms, but the troublesome twin had never been able to get it just right, "could you let Michael know that I'm here?" A heart beat of a pause before Eliza remembered: not everyone could tell the difference. "Sorry. I'm Ellie...I came to bring him some food."<br><br>Apparently her acting skills were enough to fool the receptionist as the pretty brunette girl, all done up in business attire, delicately pressed buttons to let her boss know. "Mr. Kaplan, Ellie is here to see you."<br><br>"Thank you." A meek reply from Eliza before she began making her way towards her step-father's office, a bag of food in hand. Fondly, Eliza remembered her first time visiting the office building. She had gotten lost so many times, and had barely been able to find her way to her mother's office, let along Michael's. It had taken her over a month to figure it out, but now it had been years since Maggie and Michael had made the company a success, and Eliza knew the halls like the back of her hand.<br><br>Her hand raised up in front of the solid door and for a split second she hesitated. Ellie surely wouldn't be happy with Eliza...but did that ever stop her? Eliza had always been the instigator out of the two twins. She was the one to hatch the schemes, convince Ellie to do something they weren't supposed to, but she was also the one to always talk her way out of trouble. So in a word, no, the risk of being caught never did stop her. If anything, it only gave her more reason to do whatever it was she did.<br><br><em>Knock. Knock. Knock.</em><br><br>Eliza gave pause, a deep breath, and a silent prayer that she wouldn't get caught playing imposter to her sister. A moment passed and then her slender hand pushed the door open. "Hello...?" A timid voice, as best as she could, sounded into the space around her and into the office. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Competition [Insanity, Anje, Elya and Wick]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Insanityenviesme</strong> on <strong>23-03-2015, 07:52:16</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i2.listal.com/image/437775/300full.jpg)</div><span style="font-family: times new roman;" class="bbc_font"> </span><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Mr. Kaplan, Ellie is here to see you</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>"Fuck!"<br><br>Soundproofing was an astute investment for his chambers. His eyes darted to Magnolia's friendly little reminder, as if he hoped the prospect of having his face buried in those luscious curves would fuel his better senses. <br><br>"Fuck!"<br><br>The only problem of course was his own hyperactive mind. It leaped from proffering obscene images of his wife to obscene images of her daughter. They were so much alike that it was a seamless transition. One second he was stroking his cock to the sounds of Maggie whimpering for more, the next he saw himself thrust back into his couch and Ellie straddled his aching cock. It didn't help that both women could make his knees weak with simply a smile. <br><br>"Fuck!" <br><br>Saner men than he have been toppled for being imprudent about their wants. And this was no ordinary affair; the other woman was his own stepdaughter. Unhelpful as ever, his urges struck again. He envisioned Ellie on her knees worshiping him. And then he imagined another set of lips feasting on him. He saw red. Too much red. <br><br>"Fuck!"<br><br>Mother walking in on her daughter sucking Daddy's cock, but instead of World War III as was the likelier event, Michael's perverted fantasy continued, Maggie would join Ellie and they would fight over his hard, hot, throbbing shaft. The older woman unleashing all her tricks and the younger exploiting his kink for the forbidden. It was a miracle he didn't cum in his pants. <br><br>"Fuck!"<br><br>And there she was. So pretty. So innocent. So not. And so delectable. He rose from his desk and met his beautiful babygirl, lifting her off her feet, taking her lips in a ferocious kiss, groping her peachy little ass and reposing his ruthlessly hard cock against her tummy. <br><br>"Fuck!" <br><br>His personal war faded away, as if it had been a stray gust of wind and not the potential tornado that could ruin their lives. One that grew ever more likelier considering he was molesting the wrong twin. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Competition [Insanity, Anje, Elya and Wick]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Enthelya</strong> on <strong>23-03-2015, 11:54:13</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/hJxwuH6.jpg)</div><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font">Ellie walked down the stairs yawning and half-closing her eyes to the light coming from outside, letting the pupils slowly get used to the brighter room. Brighter, but also cooler, as she noticed when she shivered and goosebumps raised on her thighs. Something to be expected, after all, since she was just wearing a t-shirt and panties, but that was an outfit that was completely fine considered what she was doing, that was listening to music under the blankets of her bed and lazily scrolling some Tumblr blogs, as the wireless headphones hanging from her neck proved. A day just like any other day.<br><br>She strolled towards the fridge, her naked toes softly tapping on the floor, and took out an half-empty bottle of milk, which she opened and drank from. Putting it back in, she saw the reflection of her face on the shiny polished surface of the refrigerator, noticing a white trail of milk standing on her lips. With a smirk, she cleaned it with a swipe of her thumb. <em>I wonder... How's Daddy doing? Should I...</em> Then, the loud sound of the fridge door closing almost made her jump, waking her up from her little daydream. Suddenly coming back form reality, she sighed and looked out of the windows. As much as she would like to... check on him, the girl knew that he always had to do something at work, and even so it would have been too risky. She bent over the windowsill, leaning her head on her hands. <em>Oh, look, Eliza left.</em> She didn't even heard her, all her attention focused on the music coming from her headphones. Well, her sister was always going around anyway.<br><br>After a couple of minutes watching the cars passing in front of the house, Ellie decided it was time to go back upstairs. As her eyes wandered through the room, she saw the abandoned phone resting on the countertop of the kitchen and suddenly remembered she hadn't been checking it for hours. She picked it up and pushed the wake button, but something felt… Strange. She didn’t remember changing the wallpaper, nor the layout of the icons. That was… That was Eliza’s. <em>Pff… Guess she took the wrong one. Whatever…</em> She brought it to her bedroom, down under the blankets once again, hitting play and letting some more music flow out of the headphones. After a few minutes of bored scrolling, her eyes stopped on the smartphone laying there besides her with a grin. There was no harm in browsing a little in her twin’s life, was there?<br><br>But that was quite a failure, no spicy details about her, or anyway she couldn’t find any. With a loud sigh of delusion, she took the laptop again as an idea came across her mind. She opened up the browser and hoped. Yes! She had never disable that “Find my phone” feature or whatever it was, and it seemed that she could connect remotely to her phone. “Now now, dear, where are you… Wait.” From the map showing up on the screen, the phone was in Michael’s office. Why was she there…? Then, the sudden realization. The phone swap, Eliza rushing out and going to their step-father… “THE FUCK?!” It hit her like a truck, her heart stopping for a whole second as her wide open eyes stared at the screen, then she panicked. “No, no, no, no… Fuck, fuck!” She stood up throwing aside the laptop and the headphones, and began to walk in circles in the room, taking her head between her hands. “Fuck!” There was no way she could reach them without a car, and for sure they wouldn’t answer any call before… Before Eliza found out what was going on and Michael that she was not who he was expecting.<br><br>“Okay, okay, okay Ellie. J-just play it cool… Play it c-cool, an-and everything will be fine.” She muttered to herself, trying in vain to calm down somehow. But she had to do something, and she had to do it now. She picked up her twin’s phone, and dialed the number of her step-father’s office. “P-play it cool… Huh, hello?! Hello.” She realized she almost screamed into the microphone. “Uhm, s-sorry I’m… I’m Eliza, Mr. Kaplan’s step-daughter. Is… Is Ellie th-there?” The affirmative reply of the secretary made her swear in a low voice. “Fuck… N-no! No, I wasn’t talking to you. Uhm, could you… Could you please call her? N-no…?” Shit, it’s too late? “L-look, I’m sorry to bother you, but I really need her. T-tell her she needs to come back home immediately, it’s urgent. Please.” All those kind words weren’t actually part of Eliza personality but… She had to try, and it seemed that the secretary didn’t really looked able to distinguish one from the other, even if the negative answers weren’t really encouraging. “I know, I know she’s inside and Michael said that he didn’t want any annoyance. But I need her to come home right now, please, this is an emergency. I have to go now, tell her please, thanks.” The last sentences were said in a fast and awfully high tone, but hopefully this added some credibility to her little lie; then, she hung up the phone without waiting for an answer.<br><br>She threw herself in bed, staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t do anything more than that. <em>I’m fucked.</em><br></span><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Competition [Insanity, Anje, Elya and Wick]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anjelita</strong> on <strong>23-03-2015, 16:55:41</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://imageserver.moviepilot.com/936full-amy-adams-amy-adams-vs-gal-gadot-lois-lane-vs-wonder-woman-who-will-come-out-on-top-in-batman-vs-superman.jpeg?width=936&amp;height=1257)<br></div>Perfectly painted nails tapped the back of her phone in agitated anticipation, awaiting a reply. If he didn't answer, perhaps it was truth. Maybe he really was working on something, a new project, that was taking up his time. And then she would know that there was actually some truth behind what Malcolm had said. Of course, if it was so important, he wouldn't have time to check his phone, right? He would be too busy. He had been too busy to even message her himself in the first place, sending his personal whipping boy to break the news for him instead. As much as her message was a lure, it was also a trap. She knew Michael, though. Or had known the old Michael. The one who would do anything to have a quick hot fuck even if there were deadlines on the table that needed to be met.&nbsp; Because he could. Even if it was at a high-end restaurant with her hand shoved down his pants stroking him, his fingers slid beneath her skirt and between her thighs, lower halves entrenched in naughtiness while upper halves remained poised, sipping soup, both halves awaiting the main course. But she hadn't seen much of that man lately. The one who would come home, find her, slam her against a wall, claim her mouth with a ferocity that rivalled a wild animal dying to consume it's next meal, and slide his thickness inside her with a wanton lust that rivalled none save her own. Then again to counter that she hadn't really been throwing herself at him, either. Save these failed attempts at dinner.&nbsp; And tonight was looking to be a double failure. A dinner cancelled, an unanswered text.&nbsp; The attendant watched on, the tension writ in every line of her body as though she herself was waiting on tenterhooks for an answer. Maggie didn't like that. Because if no answer came, or one arrived in the negative, she would look like a weak woman who couldn't even entice her man with a body like the one she had. And she most certainly had a body that few could say no to. Would Michael be joining that one percent?&nbsp; Eyes glanced from the clear screen to the attendant before her, then back to the screen, and up again in a fan of dark lashes, her teeth set against each other, her jaw beginning to grind as her disappointment rose along with her ire. They seemed positively correlated. Fingers no longer tapped but wrapped about the expensive little phone and clenched it tightly. And just as she was inhaling a breath to unleash her wrath on the girl stood before her to send her ass away to save herself that embarrassment, a text came through. Relief washed over her, and though she did not jump for glee in excitement, the tension drained from her lovely features. Shoulders fell a fraction like a weight had been lifted off of them and her lips began to twist into a victorious little smirk. Unlocking her phone, she clicked the message to open it and read the reply.<br><br><em>""If you dare to walk up to my office dressed like that, you're on."</em><br><br>Maggie barked a short laugh and shook her head of wavy crimson locks, lips pursing in utter vicious amusement. It was interesting how she managed to move through emotions so quickly. A miracle really because though she'd always been fiery and determined she did not ever allow someone the power that Michael had over her to have her flying through the heavens in elation or alternatively dragging herself through the pits of hell in anger or sadness, and every single place and emotion in between. That's one of the reasons why she wanted him. He challenged her in every single aspect of her life. Emotionally, sexually, intellectually. And here he was now, challenging her again. She couldn't possibly pass up the dare, now could she. Even if she wanted so badly to show him the inconsistencies between his text and the phone call she'd received moments before she had sent him that juicy little image, she wanted more to take him up on his challenge and see if he was really willing to put his money where his mouth was. Or perhaps more aptly his cock where it belonged.&nbsp; Besides, she could always throw it back at him after he'd filled her, had himself sufficiently planted inside her and pushed against his window for anyone who dared to look up to see. God, just the thought had her thrilled, hot and cold as chills tickled the length of her spine then divided in the centre to course both up and down, culminating in a wetness that instantly slickened those black lace panties with salacious effusions while the other coursed up and had her back arching, nipples tingling and lip disappearing between pearly white teeth. She didn't even care about not messing up her lipstick.&nbsp; Remembering she was not alone in her own little world, Maggie's sultry gaze lifted to the girl who now fidgeted from a different kind of tension as her eyes slid away from Maggie's form, though not before Maggie could see the curiosity writ in her gaze, and that flush coloured her cheeks hotly with a splash of red. She could barely remember a time when she had been like that, though there were plenty of times Michael had managed to bring a redness to her cheeks. Especially those currently stretching the black lace panties she wore. She reached a hand forward, cupped the girl's cheek and stroked her thumb over it's warmth, seeing just how it felt.&nbsp; <strong>"Oh come now don't be so bashful. It seems you took a lovely picture, darling,"</strong> Magnolia gave the girl's cheek a condescending pat, causing the little thing to gasp softly before she retracted her digits and turned her attention towards the other things at hand - the rest of her clothing - most of which she wouldn't even need. <br><br>And like that she was back to business. Leaving Michael's text unanswered for he moment, she worked on getting ready. <strong>"Toss my skirt in my purse for me will you, dear,"</strong> again, it wasn't a question but more a demand made and answered with alacrity even as that blush continued to grace the darling's cheek. He'd wanted her just as she'd appeared on that tiny little screen. But she had a little augmentation in mind. Cell phone still in hand she slipped her arms from her shirt and tossed the garment towards the girl who caught it midair. <strong>"That too,"</strong> she murmured. Pulling the straps of her bra down over her arms, she reached up behind her, unhooked the bra and tossed that at the girl too, giving no instructions this time because she was certain her intention was apparent. <strong>"My jacket,"</strong> was the next command as she held her hand out to her willing little helper. She did not leave Maggie waiting. Within seconds the camel coloured trench coat was within her grasp. It wasn't terribly long, certainly not to the floor; just long enough to cover the tops of her thighs, the swell of her nearly bare ass, though if the wind dared to pick up the flared, pleated skirt would certainly kick up and reveal that deliciously round ass and that she wore nothing but a pair of lace panties beneath it. The smirk on her lips turned into something wholly seductive, wicked, mischievous, growing worse by the second while she slowly buttoned each button save the top two, creating a tempting v of flesh that showed a bounty of cleavage. She was pleased to be blessed with breasts that, even large and prominent as they were, did not sag to her waist like some women her age with breasts her size. Reaching about her middle she tied the belt around her waist, finishing it in a bow, fixed her collar, popping it playfully so it's edge caressed against her neck and beneath her tresses, tickling her skin playfully. Looking down she laughed. She couldn't help it as fingers reached toward the hem and undid one of the buttons so that it flashed a bit more leg, nearing closer to the apex of her thighs. The girl watched on, enraptured by the scene before her. Maggie was no common housewife spending her sugar daddy's money. She wasn't some little thing who didn't know what she wanted. In fact all of her actions clearly showed exactly what she desired. Who she longed for. And that person? Was probably waiting on her text. She wouldn't send another picture. Instead Maggie unlocked her phone, tapped in the security code, and opened his message again. Reading it caused those chills to return, making her stomach flutter just below her navel. It took her barely a second to tap in her reply. Two simple words:<br><br><em><strong>"You're on."</strong></em>[/b]<br><br>Closing her phone she slipped it into her coat pocket and stretched her hand out to receive her purse, discarded belongings folded and safely ensconced within. Reaching inside she grabbed her designer wallet and pulled out a crisp hundred dollar bill, flicking it playfully with her fingertips she folded it over and handed it to the attendant. <strong>"You've been a lovely girl..."</strong> She looked at the girl's chest for a name tag, <strong>"...Lily. This is for your troubles."</strong> And of course by troubles she meant silence, and no doubt the gravity of the gaze she levelled on her said more than enough. It took Lily a moment before recognition blazed in her eyes and she nodded, taking the bill with dainty fingers and tucking it into her bra; an unexpected move that had Maggie's brow raising in amusement. <strong>"There may be more than meets the eye to you, huh,"</strong> but she didn't allow her the chance to respond.&nbsp; Instead she slipped on her heels and moved past the girl with ease and a sway in her hips that had the skirt of her jacket flouncing, flirting with the danger of exposure. Within moments she had exited the spa. She didn't have to pay, they would charge it automatically to her account. Purse in hand she walked out of the building and into the daylight that remained, finding her car in the small private parking lot, she reached once again into the oxblood purse and fished around until fingers found her keys and a pair of sunglasses, the latter making their way to her face while the former had her pressing the button on the fob that disarmed her alarm, gaze falling to take a glance down at the keychain. A picture of her twins encased in plastic, darling things at a sweet age, before they could speak and yell and throw fits. Before they could use those cherubic smiles to wrap people around their fingers or spew hateful words when she wouldn't let them go to a seedy party. Being a mother was oftentimes a thankless job but she knew she wouldn't ever trade it for the world. Her girls meant the world to her, regardless of whatever stages they went through in life. No matter how old they got, how tall they grew, they would always be her beautiful little girls. And though Michael had not been their biological father he treated them as though they were and loved them. Cared for them and their well being. It wasn't a wonder really why she loved that man. And she was more than ready to show him just how much right on top of his office desk.<br><br>Another button had the door unlocking on her bright red Mercedes SLS. A hand slipped fingers under the latch to open the butterfly door as she bent to seat herself inside, baring her panty-clad ass to the world, should anyone pass to see it. And certainly someone had coming from the sound of a whistle as a man dressed in construction gear passed on the sidewalk outside of the fence of the lot. Her head swivelled to find him. Eyes locking with his, she winked, feeling full of that bawdy excitement that made her want to do terribly randy, rowdy things. Pulling the door closed, the key in the ignition, the engine revving, purring like she hoped to be in a matter of minutes, she forwent her seatbelt, feeling especially daring and pulled out of the lot and into the street, her engine roaring as she bolted down the road towards the office.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Competition [Insanity, Anje, Elya and Wick]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>SomethingWicked</strong> on <strong>26-03-2015, 03:38:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/WPmrwfk.png)</div> What did Ellie call Michael Kaplan? Michael? Dad?&nbsp; <em>Daddy</em>? Eliza had never really paid any attention to that little detail, but the text message on her twin's phone pointed to the last option.<br><br>"Michael?" The young, unsuspecting minx called out softly, opting for a safer option. After all, maybe it had all been a mistake and Ellie wasn't even the intended recipient. She had heard him say something — something that vaguely sounded like a panicked expletive, but she couldn't be sure until-<br><br><em>"Fuck!"</em><br><br>Eliza had fully stepped into her stepfather's office by this point, and her assumption was confirmed. Her lips smiled as innocently as she could, given the situation of not even knowing what was going to happen. She was simply bringing him lunch, right?<br><br>"I didn't know what you wanted, so I picked up a soup and sandw-" the words were promptly cut off and for a moment she didn't understand what was happening. Another moment passed by. A heartbeat of a second for her brain to catch up to her five senses.<br><br>A flash of sight to see the look Michael was giving her and yet she didn't give a second thought to it. A waft of smells from the fresh food that quickly gave way to rich cologne. The sensation of firm muscle against her soft body and, if that all hadn't thrown Eliza for a loop already, her tongue suddenly tasted a mix of coffee and mint. Michael Kaplan — Eliza's stepfather — was kissing and touching her.<br><br>The first reaction was to push him away. Eliza's slender hands traded paper bagged lunch for suit jacket and just as the food crashed to the floor her body parted from Michael's. Eyes wide, unable to hide the shock deep inside of them, but deep down Eliza knew that she had to play it off...somehow. "D-didn't you....I-I thought you wanted lunch?" She asked in a curious tone. Did she hope that there was a way out of this? Oh god, yes. Did she see one? Fuck no. "I..." her voice was quivering, and for once in her life it was a natural shake, "...I brought you some food..."<br><br><em>"Think, Eliza, think! What would Ellie do in this situation?"</em> The sly girl tried to think hard. She racked her brain for any option that would salvage the situation and get her out of trouble. Nothing. Only the one thought screamed out to her. Ellie would have fucked their stepfather.<br><br>"I mean, you sent me a message saying you were hungry, right?" Perhaps it was a last ditch effort to get herself out of the moment. Or maybe it was a stall tactic. Eliza had to stall. She wasn't Ellie and she needed to make the decision — come clean or follow through with <em>it</em>.<br><br>The first thought Eliza had nearly made her laugh. Twins. She had always opted to call Ellie when one of her plans had gotten out of hand. Ellie had always been the one to calm her down and allow her to think it all through. The second thought made Eliza shudder. Her lips could still feel the lingering tingles of Michael's fierce kiss, and she liked the sensation. But it was the third thought that might have scared her the most. The only way she could get out of this mess scot-free was to sleep with him first, then deal with Ellie later.<br><br>Eliza had always been a stubborn girl. She was the type that when she decided on something, she threw herself into it. You might have thought that this was different, given the gravity of the decision, but it wasn't. At the drop of a dime her throat shifted with a swallow and her body language changed. Now, it wasn't a question of should she pretend to be Ellie to fuck the man she saw as her father, it was a question of how Ellie would go about it and if Eliza could play opposite to her own personality for that long.<br><br>With a little dip, Eliza managed to retrieve the dropped bag of food from the floor. She was positive the lunch was ruined, but she played along anyways. "I brought you some food from the bakery down the street." She turned on the balls of her feet, placing the lunch down on the small conference table. It would have all been so innocent, but the way she did it had just a hint of knowing to it. Her hips swayed a touch more than usual, and with her back facing her stepfather, Eliza took a deep, calming breath before turning back around.<br><br>Her demeanour tried to mimic Ellie's, but no matter how hard she tried, it was never perfect. "Is there anything else I can help you with," a millisecond of a pause before she finalized her fate, "Daddy?" The word felt strange in her mouth, like a piece of fruit that was on the brink of spoiling, but was also the sweetest it could have ever been. That was Eliza's last thought before she gave in and offered Michael her best Ellie-innocent gaze she could come up with.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Competition [Insanity, Anje, Elya and Wick]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Insanityenviesme</strong> on <strong>11-04-2015, 22:26:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i2.listal.com/image/437775/300full.jpg)</div> He tasted strawberry. A subtle flavor, but there was no mistaking its cajoling influence. How curious. <br><br>Michael prided himself on knowing people. Especially women. Habits cataloged. Quirks memorized. indulgences noted. Patterns discerned. He had risen to the repute of an industry leader through a simple matter of knowing things. Things that he should know got him promotions, things that he shouldn't but knew anyway got him power. Very little escape his attention, even less fail to spark his interest. <br><br>That she actually brought food was a demonstration of her cheekiness. And the repeated references to it could be a ploy to rile him up. Ellie was a very different person when in his company. Her inhibitions melt away and instinct takes control. He knew what a tease she could be. Indeed, he had been nurturing that part of her for months now. Safe from the scrutiny of her mother and sister. A very private, very intimate, very wrong and altogether wonderful affair. <br><br>But her eyes... <br><br>They seemed to have been taken hostage by anxiety. Then there was the kiss itself, including the lipgloss he was currently inspecting. Michael wasn't averse to the whimsy of a teenager, but in his experience, diversions from comfort zones merit investigation. So he annihilated the distance between them and held the girl by her bottom lip. <br><br>"Don't you usually wear Peach?" his simmering eyes informed her of the need for a convincing reply. <br><br>His desire for another kiss propelled Eliza, whom he still thought to be Ellie, into the fiber glass window with a small thud. One hand roamed the flesh of her inner thigh, seeking the treasure that lay at the apex. But just as he was plotting a course to that sweet destination, there came an undeniable distraction. Two, in fact. <br><br>He had just spotted Maggie down on the street, making a beeline to Mario's, and almost in concert his secretary announced that Eliza had left a message. <br><br>"This is just not our day..."<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Competition [Insanity, Anje, Elya and Wick]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>SomethingWicked</strong> on <strong>01-05-2015, 05:26:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/WPmrwfk.png)</div> Peach? Michael Kaplan — one of the city's finest — was about to engage in the forbidden with his stepdaughter, and he was questioning her choice of lip gloss? Eliza couldn't even fathom it, but then something clicked in her mind. Like a light bulb flickering alive above her head. Ellie wore peach. She <em>always</em> wore peach. It had started back when they were young and had bought a pack of lip gloss together. They split the pack: Eliza took strawberry, Ellie took peach. Eliza's stepfather knew that and, instantly, her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. <br><br>He knows. He had to know. Eliza had seen how keen Michael was on details. The young girl's muscles began to shake with nerves. She was caught and now she would have to explain. "I-I must have grabbed Eliza's by accid—"<br><br>The words were cut off by the insistent motion of Michael's body pressing into hers. A guiding motion to set her back against the sturdy window. Only, the chill took over from there and made her back arch outwards. The delicate frame of the troublesome twin curved towards her stepfather in a reaction to the cool surface, but maybe it would be construed as excitement — she hoped so anyways.<br><br>Over and over Eliza's mind screamed for her to keep calm. She was in no way a virgin, but the sudden rush of emotions and hormones made her head spin. The girl couldn't figure up from down, let alone right from wrong. This had to be wrong.<br><br>In that moment, and in an effort to stave off any further questions on her choice of lip gloss, Eliza leaned forwards, her lips seeking to draw Michael's mind away from anything else except for the false fact that it was Ellie in front of him. At least, that had been the initial plan. It was quickly halted by an outward sigh from the man himself. "N-No…?" Eliza's voice shook as she listened to the secretary speak over the intercom.<br><br><em>"Mr. Kaplan, Eliza called and said she had an urgent message for Ellie."</em><br><br>"Shit…" Eliza muttered quietly. It didn't matter whether or not Ellie would have expressed herself in such words around Michael. The thoughts were gone, and were only replaced by one fact. Ellie must have found out somehow. But, regardless, Eliza had not planned for her mother to find out…let alone show up at the office on her day off.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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