Don't Fear the Reaper
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Dirigible on 04-12-2010, 23:43:18</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dirigible</strong> on <strong>04-12-2010, 23:43:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Zane Newhart (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=45831.msg3974995#msg3974995) leaned towards the mirror, scrutinising the same face he'd seen every day for the last ten years.<br><br>That didn't sound weird; everyone saw themselves in the mirror every day, after all. But what they always saw was subtly, infinitesimally different each and every morning. Zane stared into his steel-coloured eyes, and ran his fingers carefully through the silky dark tangle of his hair curiously. Nope... still not so much as a single grey hair, not the merest hint of crow's feet. He looked exactly like he did when he was 21, ten damn years ago. Maybe it was a blessing; it should have been a blessing, right, to be as smooth-skinned and toned as ever now that he'd officially passed his prime and was beginning the long slope towards middle age?<br><br>And yet, as he looked at the too-familiar face in the glass, he felt disquiet rather than gratitude. It was like the <em>Picture of Dorian Gray</em>, except that instead of his image revealing all his sins, age and debauchery it seemed to show youthful virtues he wasn't sure he had, or deserved. He sighed, and picked up his razor to finish shaving, shaking his head ruefully at his reflection. The blade skimmed across his jaw as he threw his mind forward to the party tonight. It was, his friends assured him, going to be 'an epic shindig'. With 'plenty of hot, grade-A tail'. And 'iceizzle brewskis off the scizz-ale'. They might have matured in appearance, but not in personality, that lot. <br><br>Suddenly, the door banged. “Zane! C'mon, man! Can't be late to your own party, dude! The girls'll be getting cool and the beers warm!” Joey's raucous voice called up through the small loft apartment. The slamming noise made Zane jump, and he hissed as the razor etched a line into his skin. He dropped it, and reached up to staunch the bleeding. Gingerly, he glanced at the red-stained blade, and lifted his hand away to check how bad it was. But, wiping away the remaining lather and blood, he found no trace of a gash on his chin.<br><br>He grabbed a towel and wiped his face clean. Must've been so shallow it stopped bleeding immediately. Just a scrape. That was probably it. “Gimme a second, I'm coming,” he yelled back. Zane took his light grey shirt with dark blue African-style patterns off the bathroom door's hook and slid into it, buttoning it up and throwing a light jacket over the top. He ran his hands through his untameable hair, sighed, and headed for the door.<br><br><hr><br><div align="center">(http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5083/5232183813_e3c8975766_z.jpg)</div><br>Joey, Lincoln and the others were already enjoying themselves thoroughly in the back of the limo as it pulled up the long driveway to Cromarty House. Zane peered through the tinted windows, sipping&nbsp; the beer that had been pressed into his hand. The palatial mansion hadn't changed much either in the intervening years since the sharp words with his father that had lead to him storming out and trying to lead his own life out of that deep, dark shadow. He'd never asked for much from Johnathan Cromarty – certainly not fatherly love – but he'd received more than he'd wanted, anyway. The bottomless trust fund. The surname he rarely used. <br><br>And now, the run of the house on his birthday and over the weekend, fully catered and staffed, while his father was overseas on business. It almost felt like a jab by the old man: <em>no matter how far you try and run from your name and family, my boy, this will always be your home... forever.</em> Zane would have refused, but his friends had screamed and twisted his arm to make him agree. The thought of having the chance to run riot in the mansion was too good for them to pass up.<br><br>“Zane, my cuz!” Joey yelled over the thumping bassline that played through the limo, throwing a pudgy arm around his friend's shoulder. “Don't look so damn glum! Look, we know that you have problems with <em>the ladies</em> on account of your baby-faced good looks,” he pinched Zane's cheeks, and the others broke into howls of laughter. Petey raised his beer in salute, splashing the ceiling with suds, and Lincoln grinned, bopping his head to the music as he cradled his girlfriend in his lap.<br><br>“But we've found you the kind of woman who doesn't care that you haven't gone through puberty yet,” Joey teased. “We got you a stripper! Now get out there and <em>mingle</em>!” The limo had stopped by the mansion's double doors, which were wide open and spilling music, conversation, laughter and tipsy revellers. Thanks to the miracle of social networking, the party had grown beyond Zane's circle of friends; there were friends of friends here, and friends of friends of friends. Hell, most of them probably didn't even realise this was his party, which suited him. Joey reached over and opened the vehicle's door, then lifted his knee to kick his pal out. Zane hit the concrete and rolled back to his feet, dusting his jacket off and unable to keep form laughing at the ridiculousness of the moment. He thought he'd scraped himself on the ground, but he seemed to be fine.<br><br>“All right, all right! Jeez... I'll party, I'll party!”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ivy Mariani</strong> on <strong>05-12-2010, 02:52:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;Kaitlynn had one rule about working her job as a human. Never work alone. This party was no different, she'd brought two of the best dancers from the club with her. While the owner of the club hadn't been thrilled that three of his best dancers were going to be as he called it "slumming" at some "frat boy" party, she was glad she was getting the chance to be closer to her target. <br><br>&nbsp;Wearing her signature red white and blue outfit and her hair curled up into spiral curls that fell about her shoulders, she looked around the set up. She was set on the left pole, the middle was set up for one of her friends Cherry Blossom. Yeah.. The names of the other two girls weren't very original but they were strippers not poets, at least that was her view on the matter.<br><br>&nbsp;Tightening the fingerless gloves on her hands she watched the crowd gather as the music started up, sighing she ran one finger over the edge of her jaw. The jagged scar was still there, but hidden by the magic of the Reaper. She hated this job, hated it with a passion, but she had the endurance, and flexibility to make the job work. <br><br>&nbsp;Some sick joke McCormick had set up for her. The prick. The man had a hard on for her since he laid eyes on her when she all but literally fell into his lap the night she had died. She was bloodied, bruised and half naked. He drooled she promptly kicked him in the nuts. He in return laughed. Can't blame a demon-fuck-up for not having a set of the family jewels. Least it had felt satisfying for her.<br><br>&nbsp;"Ready Mercy?" Cherry gave one spin on the pole to get herself oriented with the set up. Her sapphire eyes locked onto Kaitlynn who only nodded.<br><br>&nbsp;"Yeah. Ready." she wasn't much for words when she was on the job. She wasn't there to make friends with the girls. She had a job to do, she would go out there shake her ass for a few singles and head back stage. That was her life night after night. Right now was no different.<br><br>&nbsp;"Then get your game face on! Trevor will bitch if you don't bring in a good pay out for this place." Cherry's eyes narrowed as she turned back to face the growing crowd. Letting out a whoop of noise she lifted one dainty arm into the air, effectively tossing her hair back over one shoulder in the process.<br><br>&nbsp;Kaitlynn let out another sigh, set her lips into a clearly fake smile and struck the same pose. The party had started.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dirigible</strong> on <strong>05-12-2010, 07:38:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				If Zane had been able to read her mind, he would have agreed wholeheartedly with that sentiment; this was exactly like the parties he'd attended at college. Maybe moreso. Joey sure hadn't grown up in his tastes. Still, at least it was loud, the drink flowed freely and there were plenty of people to mingle with. Yes, he thought with mock-piety; he owed it to his buddies to at least try and have fun.<br><br>Exchanging friendly cusses and punches with the guys who'd pushed him out of the limo or cheered it on, Zane let himself be pulled through the main doors. It was startling to see Cromarty House like this – full of life, of excitement, of strangers and revelry. The Grecian statues gazed coolly down at the party-goers who danced or cuddled in their shadows, faces marble-pale and impassive. They'd always unnerved Zane as a kid, sneaking through the atrium... he felt as if those stone eyes watched him constantly. Benches were set up all around and studded with chips, dips, hors d’oeuvres and a veritable forest of bottles of spirits and liquor. Crowds flocked around the kegs like they were water coolers, exchanging gossip and invitations to dance. One of Lincolns friends spun the turntables, filling the normally austere hall with thumping beats that begged for movement.<br><br>Zane grinned as someone pushed a glass of expensive champagne into his hand. He could hardly believe his father, the grim, distant, kinda scary patriarch of the Cromarty fortunes would have sanctioned this. It was disreputably, debauched, riotous – fun – everything he stood against. <br><br>As he moved through the crowd, saying hi to a few people he knew and starting to unwind, Joey tapped him on the shoulder and jerked a thumb towards the three poles that had been set up on one side of the atrium. “Strippers? Damn, I thought you were kidding,” Zane said dubiously. He eyed the three women apprehensively, but found his eyes caught by the last one. Tall, stunning, exotically clad... he'd never seen anyone like her. Unconsciously, he reached up, rubbing his own jaw where he'd cut himself shaving, and watched her speculatively.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ivy Mariani</strong> on <strong>05-12-2010, 18:55:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;Her body moved almost robotic like to the so called stripper anthem of Def Leopard's 'Pour Some Sugar on Me' as the other girls found their own rhythms. This was Cherry's song though, she and Jade- the other stripper for the job- were just her backup, doing simple tricks to keep the song going while Cherry did her own magic. Kaitlynn however used this time to inspect the crowd, looking for her target. It wasn't easy, not with so many faces in the crowd and about half of them distracted by conversations.<br><br>&nbsp;She recognized a few faces from what McCormick had shown her, but the one that really stood out was her target. He almost glowed like a beacon to her in her second sight, something that excited her at first but now didn't seem to phase her in the slightest when she saw it. Grabbing the pole she hooked one leg around and pushed off with her other foot, giving a spin around the metal before landing on her knees gently. The motion was executed the same time as Jade, giving it a unified look as Cherry continued to move.<br><br>&nbsp;As the song finished both she and Jade collapsed backwards as was the choreography. She hated the moves to the sing, something Cherry threw together to make her look good and them, not so much. Still she went along with it. After all her turn was coming up in the third song, after that well.. Cherry could kiss her ass. She was the one who landed the job to begin with. Smiling to herself as she stood she waited as Jade and Cherry switched positions and a Nickelback song started up.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dirigible</strong> on <strong>05-12-2010, 22:14:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Zane hissed appreciatively through his teeth as the leftmost woman curled herself acrobatically around the pole and slid down. His breath literally taken away. He barely noticed the other two strippers as he looked across at Kaitlynn, and something like an electric shock went through him when she seemed to stare straight into his eyes.<br><br>Joey chuckled and slapped him on the back. “Ahh, you like that one, dude? She is fi-i-i-i-ne! Lemme see about getting you some alone-time with her, eh?” Shrugging off Zane's attempts to hold him back and urgent requests <em>not</em> to do that, Joey bulled his way through the crowd and approached Kaitlynn's dancing podium. Being of generally short and stocky proportions, as the song ended he leered up at her like a horny mountaineer eyeing Mt. Everest, and stuck his fingers in his mouth to whistle.<br><br>“That's the guy that hired us,” Cherry murmured to 'Mercedes' through a fixed smile. “Play nice!”<br><br>“Hey, gorgeous!” Joey hollered to Kaitlynn over the racket, cupping his hand around his mouth. “You see that guy over there?” He jerked his head towards Zane, who groaned in mortification, though out of earshot in the bustling party (though it could have just been the Nickelback). “That's the birthday boy. How about, as a special favour for me, you give him a private dance, huh?” Joey flicked his wrist like a magician, revealing a roll of, she estimated, several hundred dollars.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ivy Mariani</strong> on <strong>06-12-2010, 03:41:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;<em>Bite me...</em> she thought inwardly at Cherry who still seemed to think she ran the show. It was typical. She was the bitch and this was her ball. Kaitlynn did her best to smile as the man came up to her, and as the song started she did her best to keep her movements in line with Cherry as Jade took center stage. The music boomed in her ears but she was able to tune it out enough to hear what the man was saying.<br><br>&nbsp;Pressing her spine against the pole, she slithered down it, her arms outstretched over her head before she landed on all fours and gave her hair a flip. Looking up at the man with the roll of money she gave him another smile.<br><br>&nbsp;"Tell you what sug." she did her best southern accent, another good cover for her job. "You hold onto that money and once I'm done with my dance up here you got yourself a little deal." she gave him a wink as she slithered backward and grabbed the pole with her right hand. As she moved she used the pole as leverage to stand, her left leg coming up high in a kick that mirrored Cherry's perfectly. She hadn't skipped a single beat in her dance while she had spoken.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dirigible</strong> on <strong>06-12-2010, 10:17:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				From his vantage point at the foot of the one-woman stage, joey had a pretty good view of the proceedings. His eyes goggled, taking in stretched thighs, swaying hips, thrusting breasts and tossing hair as Mercedes undulated against the pole, strutting her stuff. He winced visibly as she dropped to all fours and flicked her red tresses back, as if her sensuality was a physical blow that had struck him. “Yeah, sure...” Joey said distantly, staring in rapt attention, before shaking himself. “There's a room... uhh.. over <em>there</em> you can use. I'll send my boy in when you're done.” Joey backed away, then turned and his shoulders rose and fall in a sigh. He mopped his brow, and headed back to Zane.<br><br>Zane, meanwhile, had never been so acutely aware of a woman as he was of that one dancer. He gulped as she kicked, his eyes tracing her legs, the arch of her spine and gleam of her eyes. Even as Joey clumped back and ushered him to a chair to watch the rest of the performance, he swore he could feel her as a dark beacon in the back of his head. He took a swallow of cool champagne, letting it sear its way down his throat.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ivy Mariani</strong> on <strong>06-12-2010, 18:50:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;Continuing to work the pole like she'd been doing it all of her life she kept her movements fluid and agile. It was made easier by the fact she was infused with the knowledge of how to do all of this once she had become a Reaper. She'd paid for extra lessons as well, just to help sell the fact she knew what she was doing. It would have been weird for her to walk in and know what she was doing and not have the credentials to back it up. If there were such things as credentials for strippers.<br><br>&nbsp;Jade's song ended, giving them all a moment to catch their breath though Kaitlynn didn't need it. She had no necessity to breath aside from to keep herself showing as being alive in some aspect. Even the beating of her heart was a mere illusion. Everything about her accept her physical appearance- with the exception of her scar- was a lie.<br><br>&nbsp;Frowning she traded places with Jade, climbing up into the front position as the next song started up. She didn't pay attention to the lyrics as she started with her back to the crowd. As she moved she stripped away the top covering the black leather bra underneath. Dropping it to the floor she picked up her pace as the song picked up as well. Her moves were ones that had made most of the other girls' jaws drop when she had auditioned. Still it brought her a small form of satisfaction that she could out dance the other two with a single bat of an eyelash.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dirigible</strong> on <strong>09-12-2010, 18:31:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“Don't say your ole' buddy never does nothin' for ya,” Joey chuckled, climbing into an antique chair next to Zane's. “Phew. I tell you, man... that is <em>a lot</em> of woman strutting her stuff up there. You enjoy, you hear me?” He glanced down at the roll of money, and pressed it into Zane's hand. “I'm sure you can find somewhere to stick that once you're alone with her” he winked.<br><br>“Jesus, Joey, you didn't have to... I don't know why you'd think...” Zane groused, but his gaze was torn back to the podiums as Mercedes climbed into pole position. His voice trailed off as his gaze became enraptured in her confident, deliberately alluring movements. He drank in her long legs, curved hips, svelte back...and groaned, deep in his throat as she tore off her jacket and revealed the black leather lingerie. Well...maybe there was no harm in going along with Joey's plan, he thought, settling back into his seat and watching hungrily.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ivy Mariani</strong> on <strong>09-12-2010, 18:43:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;Her body moved with ease as she became lost to the song. Her hips moving as though she had been dancing all of her life, when in fact it had only been within the last twenty years that she had hopped around from club to club doing this. She hated the constant hiding and wished there were another way to keep herself from getting too many strange looks about her ability to never age. Even though the Reaper magic she possessed could allow her to convert her looks into something different, she felt too fake when she went under the guise of another person. It felt.. Wrong.<br><br>&nbsp;The music filled her ears, wrapped around her brain as she continued to stay one step ahead of her next movement, thinking of the ones that would follow. Another high kick, swing around the pole, removal of her skirt to show off matching panties and hair flip. The moves were executed without a hitch, something that left even her companions dumbfounded as they moved in unison to back up her own movements. Smiling to herself she continued, glad that the song was nearly done, having to fake exhaustion was never an easy task when you didn't have to breathe.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dirigible</strong> on <strong>10-12-2010, 10:21:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“Nnngh,” Zane expounded eloquently, watching Mercedes dance. The throbbing music, the swaying crowds, the jostling and calls from his friends... they all seemed to grey out, as if the only thing in the room was the woman in the spotlight, the rest just backdrop. The champagne fizzed on his tongue, but he couldn't taste it. His hands tightened around the glass and against his knee, his heart pounding in his ears and throat.<br><br>She was hypnotic, like a cobra bewitching its prey into torpor with sinuous motions. She was alluring and deadly, Salome without even seven veils, ready to take his head. He couldn't get enough of her, though some corner of his mind anxiously warned him that it might not be the best idea to get close to her. Though he blinked and swallowed, his gaze never faltered, not wanting to miss a single seductive sway, kick, stretch or roll. “Ahhh... god,” he murmured fervently as she finally shimmied out of her skirt to reveal her underwear in its full splendour. Her long, shapely body filled Zane's vision as the song wound to its climax.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ivy Mariani</strong> on <strong>14-12-2010, 17:36:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;As the song finally came to the final chord she wrapped one leg around the pole spinning herself before she sunk to her knees, ending with the song as she flipped her hair down over her face. She faked the heavy breathing, as she cast glances through a curtain of auburn hair towards each of her dancing partners. They were breathing as heavily each of them holding their final pose for a few seconds before they straightened and stepped off their platforms.<br><br>&nbsp;It was time for a small break, even they needed to catch their breath and cool down after awhile. They'd danced to three vigorous songs, each of which had caused them to become exhausted. Slowly bringing her legs over the edge of the stage she pushed herself to the floor, standing as she did so. Following the girls she went over to find some water as they had. It wasn't that it was a necessity really, just more for show. <br><br>&nbsp;Sighing she grabbed a bottle of water and twisted the cap free, pressing the plastic mouth to her lips and began to drink. She finished nearly half of the bottle before she figured it was time to stop. Putting the cap back on she tucked the bottle tucked it into her duffel before putting a small lock onto the twin zippers that kept it closed. She didn't need anyone snooping around inside her bag. Not only were her street clothes in there but there were also items for her Reaping job that could be necessary for use.<br><br>&nbsp;Turning her attention back to the crowd she carefully prepared herself for the next part of her night.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Don't Fear the Reaper</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dirigible</strong> on <strong>15-12-2010, 00:07:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The sight of sexy women strutting their stuff and shedding clothes was bound to make any crowd, especially the male parts of it, loosen up. But Kaitlynn's dance seemed to have an especially hypnotic, siren-like effect on the party. Lovers and strangers alike pulled people closer to them, bodies rolling and writhing to music in unconscious imitation of the woman's seductive performance. It was as if they were dissolving, melting together in one giant, heated mass.<br><br>The spell faded a little once her show ended, but the ice was well and truly cracked, and the party was swinging into full gear. Zane's fingers were white and tight around the glass as he drained the last drops, letting out a shuddering breath he didn't even know he'd been holding as the redhead coiled around the pole. Joey wiped his face with a pudgy hand and whistled. “Damn, man... see if I can get a dance from her after you! Naw, just kidding,” he grinned, pushing Zane out of the chair, shoving the roll of notes into his pocket and burdening him with the bottle of champagne and an extra glass. “Go get 'er, tiger!”<br><br><hr><br>(http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5005/5261496031_b1e7fe02b7.jpg)<br><br>It had always struck Zane as ironic and typical of the family that although none of them had so much as touched an instrument since his mother died, the music room was kept immaculately clean and stocked, the piano, harp and flutes all polished and tuned as if Jonathan Cromarty might decide to pop in for a quick play one evening. Zane had the interest, but not much talent; he suspected his father didn't have an artistic bone in his body.<br><br>Shifting his shoulders nervously under his jacket, Zane wandered in to the room Joey had directed him to. It was empty, and the lights were low; starlight through the lace curtains, the multi-coloured glow of the party flickering under the door, and a few lamps designed to look like gaslights, which gave a warm amber glow to the room. He paced around, unsure of what to do, before finally sinking into a red-felt chalice sofa with ornate gold-plated wooden arms, setting the bottle and glasses down next to him on the floor. He scuffed his shoes on the carpet, glancing at the door with his heart beating somewhere in his windpipe as he awaited the dancer.
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>