Playing with Fate
<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: Esoteric Myobi on 15-11-2010, 23:34:46</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Playing with Fate</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Esoteric Myobi</strong> on <strong>15-11-2010, 23:34:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"All organs and tissue of the human body are composed of either ectoderm, mesoderm, or endoderm. Parts composed of ectoderm such as skin, the esophagus, and stomach lining cannot be infiltrated by tumor cells by simple contact. Cancers or tumors do occur in the ectoderm, but occur for different reasons, not through external contact. Now as you can see in this video..."<br><br>The slide changed and the class was no longer staring at the image of an ovarian cyst but watching an interactive video of the cyst being skillfully removed through a hole that had been made through the stomach. <br><br>As most of the class watched - some fascinated, others feeling slightly nauseous - the rest were either dozing off in the dark room or busily tapping away at their electronic devices. On the other hand, with no laptop on hand save for pen and paper, Fate (http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l55hdhZPmk1qcqnzwo1_500.jpg) seemed to be staring intently at the screen while listening to the droning of her professor. <em>Seemed to be</em> being the key words. Instead, her mind was as far away from the classroom as many of the other students.<br><br>Her pen tapped an impatient beat along the desk as she waited for the class to finish. It was only her second class today and already the day seemed to be dragging on forever. She couldn't concentrate and even with her friends had noticed that something was wrong. Not only had they received a few curt responses from her at best, as compared to her usual animated self, she was busy spacing out the rest of the conversation. That letter...<br><br><br><br><em>Dearest Fate,<br><br>Forgive me for using your first name, I know it's rude but I think it appropriate due to the fact that you shall be <span class="bbc_u">very well</span> known to me in a short time, should you accept my offer that is.&nbsp; Read on and you shall be rewarded.&nbsp; You may stop reading now and throw this chance away if you so wish, but knowing you as I do already, you will forever wonder what <strong>The Game</strong> really was.</em><br><br><br><br>An unmarked envelope with only her name written in bold print on the front had been slipped under the door of her little apartment the night before. She'd stepped on it upon returning from her latest rendezvous with her latest interest, a charming gentleman who had a taste for kink. <br><br>The contents of the letter alarmed her at first. The use of her name, the anonymous letter...was this a new stalker? Having had her share of stalkers in the past, Fate certainly didn't need yet another obsessive admirer following her every step. And yet...the part of her that always sought out adventure, forever seeking thrills...it refused to be quelled and she found herself intrigued. <br><br><br><br><em>So...you read on...I'm pleased!<br><br>Yes...a game it is.. both for me...and for you. I will set you challenges in the form of personal activities...with very few boundaries...and you will be handsomely rewarded for accepting them...I may watch you...and then again, I may not.&nbsp; You will never know who I am.&nbsp; That will be my secret to keep...on the other hand, you will have no secrets from me. That is because you will do as I bid...should you accept the challenge. <br><br>We firstly need to have trust between us, and to that end I will deposit $50,000 in a bank account of your choice upon your acceptance of my terms.&nbsp; I will secure six months of your life as repayment, at the end of which you will be again rewarded with a completion bonus of $400,000.&nbsp; Additionally, during these challenges, you will be fully pre-paid for out of pocket expenses in advance...some of which will be considerable...so you see, I am endowed with resources enough to have no limits.<br><br>Your reward for completing each challenge will be a simple cash bonus. Let me be clear...you will do exactly as I wish...with no exceptions. If you renege on any activity, the game will end immediately and you will not hear from me again.<br><br>Interested? If so, buy a bouquet of a dozen flowers from the florist across your campus at 3 PM tomorrow.</em><br><br><br><br>There was no signature at the bottom. Who sent it? What did they want from her? More importantly, just how much did they know about her? Obviously the man was wealthy, so much so that he could probably fill a pool with it and swim around. The incentive of the cash was nice, but she really didn't need it with so many others lavishing her with their attentions. No, what she truly sought for was the excitement. Even now, a small trill shivered up her spine at the thought that perhaps, just perhaps, this mysterious 'player' was watching her right now...<br><br>Fate blinked as the lights went on and realized class had ended. Quickly shoving her stuff in her bag, she hurried after the trailing students and left the room as well. Checking her watch, she noted that it was already 2:30. Time was running out and she still hadn't made up her mind yet. Well, not completely anyway...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Playing with Fate</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>cere</strong> on <strong>23-11-2010, 00:40:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Simon Plessey is a 39 year old trader and market-maker, specialising in financial derivitives.&nbsp; He whiles away his time making money and lots of it. He makes money selling short when the market falls and he makes money buying options when the market rises. "How wonderful" you say? Well, once upon a time he was enthralled and captivated by market dynamics. The New York&nbsp; Stock Exchange was his domain, his bailiwick, his to conquer and control. Nowadays his interest has waned considerably...making money has become too easy. Unlike everyone else he knows or is associated with who feels 'all at sea' during major financial movements, his system makes huge swings entirely predictable...too predictable for him to enjoy the wild rides of yesteryear. He simply makes money in mountainous green piles.<br><br>Still single, he could never understand the concept of marriage, and these days he plays at people watching. He watches people during the day from his office window, making bets with himself on what time the same grey haired woman with the briefcase will pass a particular park bench in Central Park today. He visits the racetrack, but instead of betting on the horses, he bets on which horse the same man with the folded newspaper will take in the next race...he's not stupid enough to think that horse racing is entirely above board! His self-imposed penalties for losing his own wager he determines with a roll of the dice. With three challenges set up, he rolls the dice. If one of the challenges comes up, he must undertake the challenge...a 50% risk of having to meet one. He needed only two weeks to begin to think bigger, more personal; devise a task with more impact.<br><br>Sitting by the flaming winter blaze in his drawing room, not yet spring and the nights were still cold, he mused how he recently missed out on forecasting the past attendance figure for the Yankees...within a range he was 2,625 out...and that this time his challenge had been bizarre but simple in concept. It was to visit an upmarket night club on a busy Thursday night, find a girl who looked interesting, find out her whereabouts and make her an anonymous proposal...not of marriage, not of acquaintance, but of being the principal in a game of life and chance! It was Wednesday and he was apprehensive but he wasn't going to renege. A smile began to form as his mind wandered through a maze of endless possibilities.<br><br>The next evening he dressed in black pants and tailored shirt, no jewelry. He wanted no trinkets attracting attention tonight. He merely wanted to observe...Oh, how he adored the feeling of unrequited observation! From a vantage point in a dark corner to the left of the main bar he watched...avoiding eye contact and covering most of his face by pretending to be holding a tedious but personal, cell phone conversation...looking downwards in a study of deep concentration when anyone looked his way. <br><br>At just after 12am, the music pumping, he found his mark. She came in on the arm of a smallish man, exchanging social pleasantries in a manner depicting no deep ties, perhaps even a blind date. Dark and sensual, she had an air of complete confidence about her...but she obviously took risks. After all, blind dating in the 21st century is a risky business.<br><br>It was then a case of seeing her leave, following in his car, noting the apartment number and for the next two days, taking high resolution, long range photographs, waiting. He examined her garbage immediately following her early morning clean up and it wasn't long before he found what he wanted. Some uni correspondence told him enough to work out that she was studying medicine at James North. Nice name, Fate! How appropriate, he chuckled to himself. Her credit card statement told him the name of her bank, her account number, that she was financially sound; there were charges from her hairdresser and she ate at restaurants at least twice a week. <br><br>He had enough for a beginning...enough to commit to taking the next step...and doing much more research. His mind had started pushing the limitations he had set himself, like a fox meticulously searching around the boundaries of a chicken pen, sniffing and poking for a way to get inside. Limits were for others, not him. He knew then that this was going to be much more fun than he had first anticipated.<br><br>That night he wrote a letter and stuck it under her apartment door. He had briefed, and paid handsomely, the grateful old flower vendor outside her campus, to whom he gave a picture of Fate and a small envelope to pass on to her. The envelope contained a small note that described the date, time and place of the next message drop...his next communication. He would be anxiously watching the flower shop from afar at 3pm the next day. He wanted her to accept and badly, for he realised that he was more hooked on this than on anything that had occupied him for a very long time.
			</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>