Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)
<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: Ferran on 13-02-2009, 05:16:58</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ferran</strong> on <strong>13-02-2009, 05:16:58</strong>
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				Roland Guerrero hadn't had an easy life. Born to a lower-class union of a white trash mother and a Cuban refugee, Roland's parents had never been much for the loving, caring, nurturing parents. They had done what they'd had to do to get by, and often that involved leaving Roland to himself for long periods of time. But more often it had involved ignoring him simply because it was convenient. Roland didn't remember his infancy, of course, but he guessed that he'd been a rather obnoxious burden on his mother and father. Probably a burden they'd neither wanted nor planned for. He'd had more or less enough to eat, and enough clothes to get by without wandering the streets naked, but love and affection had been words that Roland knew the meaning of only on an academic basis. <br><br>So he'd learned to take care of himself from an early age, and that was alright with Roland. He didn't need oversight. He didn't need limitations. He didn't need parents looking over his shoulder, deciding what he should do, when he should do it, and how. It was his life, and he could take care of himself. The world had never given him any handouts, so Roland had gotten used to taking what he needed. This had proved problematic, as he'd always been a bit slim and lithe. While other urchins fist-fought and scuffled for property and respect, Roland had always prowled on the outskirts, sticking to the shadows and swiping what he could when the opportunity presented itself. He'd learned how to seem innocuous, how to go unseen, and how to fight like hell and run away when the situation called for it. <br><br>So he'd gotten what he needed...though not without more than a few scars and bruises and broken bones along the way. But that just made him better. Whenever he'd moved a little slower than he should have, whenever he'd been a tad more suspicious than fate allowed, whenever he'd taken a wrong turn and ran himself into a corner, Roland had been punished with more force than a thousand spankings and scoldings from any parent. So he'd learned. And he'd gotten better. And eventually, as Roland entered puberty, the street gangs and thugs saw more than a beggar-child or urchin in him. They'd seen a thief who could put paper in their pocket. <br><br>He hadn't wanted to join, of course. Roland had, after all, always taken care of himself. He didn't need anyone else. He didn't need oversight. But it was quite a bit more difficult to avoid an entire organization than just a few individuals, and Roland was forced to relent and work for them. His parents hadn't minded. Hell, they probably hadn't even noticed. Roland would sometimes go a week without sleeping at home, and his parents' only concern was why he still came back that one day out of seven. So Roland had started his new, but very familiar work...pickpocketing pedestrians, smashing car windows to swipe valuables inside, and occasionally jumping into an open window to grab what he could. Only now he had to give up a percentage of it.<br><br>So, as Roland stood on a dark, dank street corner of some forgotten avenue in the forsaken district of the corrupt city, hands in the pockets of his hoodie and eyes flicking over any people for easy marks, he began to wonder if life would ever be anything more than just getting by.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>13-02-2009, 19:08:26</strong>
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				Gisell De La Hoya needed a man. Not just any other man that could be picked up in a seedy bar or at a nightclub. Preferably something muscular, a man whose long, powerful body would serve her well as she took his essence and strength. Gisell would hold him down, bind his wrists and ankles to a St. Andrews' Cross and show him what it took to be her slave. Oh, the cries of the man as she pushed him towards exhaustion, beyond rational thought. All those wonderful muscles would be taut and slick as she paddled and struck him with a single-minded urgency. The male's most primal instincts would take over making him into a fierce and and beautiful animal. Just imagining it made Gisell's skin heat and shimmer in the limousine. <br><br>As she gazed out the window from the shadows of the backseat of her limo, her lips parted, her tongue slicking over her full bottom lip as if she could taste the salty sweat of the anonymous male against her mouth. For months, she made herself take temporary male slaves, letting them assauge her hunger to dominate. However, like most Mistresses her desire to dominate intertwined with her need to own someone completely and not just for an hour or two before she paid them their money and let them go on their way. Without being able to control a male wholeheartedly, she felt nothing and had no vitality for it. <br><br>Oh how she missed owning alpha males. Gisell enjoyed their fight, their resistance, the sweet taste of their anger as she took over and controlled them. For those moments in time, she let herself remember how beautiful it was in the challenge to break those alpha males into beggars and servants. Tonight, she needed that but there were other things to cross off of her eternal list. First, she needed to have a manicure and afterwards she would call up the company she used to send over another temporary alpha male to dominate and to have for the night. However, her vanity came first before everything else. She would not get into a session if her nails were cracked and unpainted. <br><br>She studied her nails by the light thrown into the car from the parking lot lamps. Hellhound that he was, her Irish Staffordshire Bull Terrier (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irish_Staffordshire_Bull_Terrier) Chibs had torn a nail when she indulged his incessant need for attention and became a bit rough in trying to remove a leather ball from her hands. No harm had become to her skin but Pinkie managed to crack one nail while ripped the tip off of the digit next to the first. Perfection was necessary these days when showing any vulnerability in her world was a death sentence. Though she could easily afford to have a manicurist sent to her home, Gisell's enemies needed to know that she would not hesitate to go out into public for an indulgent errand.<br><br>Nodding towards the driver to indicate she was ready who got out of the driver's side door, walked around the front and came to open her own door. Throughout the trip to the nail salon, she noticed the fifty-something gentleman had eyed her through his rearview mirror the entire time. She had a background check down on him before she thought about hiring a car to take her to her appointment. The male was ex-military having served thirty years for his country doing a few black operations that even went under the President's own nose. He had a son who died over an overdose leaving the grandfather of one to take care of his grandson, Devin and to bury his wife of over thiry years a few years back. She also knew he had a grandmother in New Orleans revered as a Voodoo Priestess which did show he knew there were otherworld entities roaming about. Only one of the reasons why he kept a close eye on her throughout this trip.<br><br>"I'll be two hours," she replied, her eyes glancing over his caramel features. "You're welcome to do something during that time but be back here ten minutes before the two hours end." He nodded but whispered he might just read in his car. Aye, yes, Gisell noticed a book bag in the passenger seat of the limo when she shifted over to tell him the directions of the nail salon. Nodding once to him, he went back to the limousine to drive off, her eyes taking in the scene around her. Taking a deep breath, she smiled as she felt the presence of someone near her as if waiting to attack her any second. <em>Come and get me, if you dare...</em>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ferran</strong> on <strong>13-02-2009, 21:44:08</strong>
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				Roland was, in all honesty, a poor excuse for a man. <br><br>Physicallly, of course, he was far from scrawny or unattractive. Quite the contrary. Roland's features were quite handsome indeed, and though heredity had decided he was to have a slim, tall build, he was still outfitted by muscles that fit compactly under his street clothing. Having spent almost his entire life on the cold streets of the city, Roland was fit an athletic...and much stronger than he at first seemed. Even so, it was not easy for him to regularly contend with the bruisers and thugs of rival gangs (or even his own, to his dismay).<br><br>Emotionally...well that was a different story entirely. A complicated one. Though he hid it well, Roland was still quite young, and there were some things he was entirely ignorant or naive on. He knew little to nothing of the outside world, of romance, of academics, of relationships, of emotions, of his place in the world, or of anything outside of what he'd experienced on the seedy streets of the city. But Roland was used to playing to his strengths and paying a silent, cautions eye to his weaknesses, so he didn't mind. To him, these things he did not know did not matter. They were only distractions that would inevitably lead to death and suffering. He did not have the luxury of considering such things.<br><br>But, to Roland's credit, he was incredibly strong-willed. Roland had raised himself, and had quite quickly learned the price of overindulgence and lack of discipline. To get anywhere, you had to know what you wanted, where to get it, and how to obtain it...and most of all, you could not entertain delusions about who you were. You had to know yourself. Roland did not believe vague fantasies that he was some punk gangsta destined to make it big and rule the city. He'd seen more than one thug get killed over such misguided dreams. No, Roland knew himself. His faults, his weaknesses, and his strengths...and it had allowed him to remain alive thus far.<br><br>And Roland also knew the streets. Or, at least, enough about them to know when the only marks who were going to show up would be carrying less loose change than him. So Roland shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie and began to walk, thinking along the way. Roland thought about a lot of things in his spare time. Sometimes he dreamed (though always knew they were just dreams), sometimes he planned...sometimes he even thought about what he might like to do if he could ever break himself out of the endless cycle of petty crime. But there was no chance of that any time soon.<br><br>But, as Roland turned a corner in a slightly better section of town, he blinked and looked across the street with some surprise. A limousine...an actual limousine had pulled up next to a prominent nail salon. Roland had only seen a limousine once before in his life. The royalty from the financial district and the fancy uptown condos almost never decided to pay a visit to the plebes. Roland sensed an opportunity. But as the driver opened the back door and it's occupant stepped out onto the pavement, Roland stopped dead in his tracks and stared.<br><br>Roland had had little experience in the way of sexuality. Roland was a scavenger, a thief, and a pilferer...and while he was a <em>damned</em> good one, he'd always had last pick of girls. And last pick was usually no pick at all. Consequently, Roland was, to his dismay, still a virgin. And, truth be told, if a pretty girl had thrown herself at him, Roland likely wouldn't have known what to do with her. Sex was desirable...but it was also too often a distraction he could not afford. But this woman was...gorgeous. Hauntingly so. Always keeping a low profile, Roland did a good job of not looking like he was staring at her while he took a full minute to just gawk. Sometimes there actually seemed to be things that mattered more than scraping up enough money not to get beat up.<br><br>But, crossing the street, Roland snapped out of it quickly. This was an opportunity he could not pass up. People like that carried more in their pockets than most people made in a year (or so Roland thought. People like that actually carried <em>less</em>, as they payed for everything in checks and credit cards...but, having lived in the slums, Roland had barely heard of these proxy currencies). As Roland approached her, he got into character. He took his hands out of his pockets, walked upright, and looked about obliviously with a charming, youthful smile on his face. People were far less likely to suspect being pickpocketed if you looked like a poor kid with a heart of gold. <br><br>Just as the limousine was pulling away and the woman stood outside the nail salon, Roland meandered towards her, still looking in the 'wrong' direction as he went...which sent him walking straight into her, his arms flying out before him to apparently steady himself (but really to attempt to pilfer her purse). "Oh, god! Ah, ex-...excuse me, ma'am. I feel stupid...can't even look where I'm goin'. Please, pardon me. You alright?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>14-02-2009, 04:56:56</strong>
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				Flashes of images soared through her mind. Each one important in discovering this 'stranger's' reason for stumbling into her. For Gisell, nothing was ever an accident. Things happened for a reason or was thought out to make it seem as if it was a coincidence. There were no Acts of God, if there really was a God who took pity on the weak and the simple-minded. An image flashed in her head about this female and when he apologized, she knew better than to leave this male to go on his way. This was going to ruin her manicure appointment but she had a bit of time before she had to head inside to teach this male a lesson in readjusting his life goals.<br><br>Gisell locked her right hand around his wrist in a vice like grip. This foolish human sought to steal from her? Her hand tightened around him and she smirked to see how this male thought to get away with this act. No one was brave enough to assault her in the setting sun but she figured he must be sent to find as much information as he could for her enemies. Dark, black eyes glanced over his figure, a small sneer appearing on her pouty lips. He was a handsome male, one that wore muscles beneath those disgusting pieces of clothing. However, his figure would not get him out of this predicament. This individual would pay for trying to take advantage of her appearance.<br><br>She knew what she looked like. Though she might not be able to look more upon it before throwing something to shatter the mirror, Gisell knew of her attractive features. Features that managed to acquire a dead husband who had been a cruel one to her. She missed the memory of her servant, Thomas, but she knew he was off in a better place. A place she doubted would be allowed in when her body turned to ash in the morning sun. As long as Thomas was in heaven, she would happily rot in hell alongside her husband. "Do you think I would not notice your greedy little hands trying to snatch my purse?," she questioned, leaning down to bare her white teeth. She would not show him what she was at this moment. There was no telling who else was out there to witness her transformation. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ferran</strong> on <strong>14-02-2009, 05:34:42</strong>
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				Just as Roland knocked gently into the woman, something in the back of his mind went off. Something deep, deep in his gut cringed and rumbled...and something told Roland that he had just bitten off quite a bit more than he could chew. But that was silly. She was just a rich, posh woman, right? Spoiled trophy wives may be bitchy but they aren't dangerous...right? That's why rick people never came to the dark, seedy shadows that the criminals hid in...they were supposed to be afraid. <br><br>But this woman was not afraid...nor was she fooled. Roland winces and grunted as she took hold of his wrist, gripping it in a far tighter, stronger hold than he'd have thought possible for such a woman. Roland sneered at her and jerked his arm backwards, releasing the straps of her purse and trying to break her hold on him...but could not. "'Ey! Let go 'uh me lady! Let the fuck <em>go!</em>" Roland almost snarled now, becoming frustrated as what should have been a lucky break went very, very sour...and partially angry at himself for screwing up. Roland tried to jerk his arm forcefully away from her again, but again failed.<br><br>"I ain't tryin' ta steal your purse, lady. I lost my damn footing. <em>That's all.</em> Can't put a fool in jail for that shit." Roland put a hand on her shoulder to use as leverage, pressing with that arm and pulling with the one she still held, trying with all of his somewhat considerable might to break free. "I gotta knife, lady! I don' wanna hurt you, but if you don't chill, I'll protect myself!"
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				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>15-02-2009, 00:55:02</strong>
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				Chuckling, she had to hand it to this male. He could be a good actor when he needed to get out of a stick situation. No matter if he was bloody Shakespeare, he was not going anywhere. Gisell would teach this male a lesson as she looked him over to see if he truly had a knife on him. The knife would hurt for a bit but she could break his wrist to keep him from slashing her again if he so tried. "Watch your manners, good gentleman. One does not talk to a lady in that tone or use of words," she informed him as she twisted his hand back to keep him in a painful position. <br><br>She sniffed the air around him, having to stop herself from closing her nose. This foul creature had not had a shower or his clothes were the ones reaking of filth and human matter. He was not going to get away and if she had to, Gisell would hose his filthy behind down before she exacted her punishment. All she had to do was get him into the nail salon or at least back to her place. Reaching with her other hand, she removed her cell phone from her purse and speed dialed her driver. Half a ring went by before she caught him and ordered him to come back for her since it seemed she was caught up in something else. No questions were asked on his side of the line and a click let her know he was turning the car back to pick her up.<br><br>"Then how about arresting you for threats and sexual harassment?," she asked, smiling as she placed her other hand on his neck to find his pressure point. Last time she remembered, there was a certain spot to cut off oxygen supply and knock a human out. Right now, she needed it more than ever or she would have to go about it another way and smack him into complete blackness. "You are not going anywhere and if you try and stab me, you will surely regret it," she whispered, smirking as she pressed on the spot she hoped was the place to put her fingers against.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ferran</strong> on <strong>15-02-2009, 01:43:20</strong>
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				Something was very, very wrong here. No woman with an hourglass shape, plush lips, and skin as soft as pillows could actually <em>overpower</em> a street thief born and raised in strife. It simply could not happen. Her tempting frame could not possibly possess the muscle mass to do it. But here she was, twisting his wrist painfully behind his back with titanic force that he couldn't even seem to scratch the surface of. And Roland had tried. He turned, twisted, lurched, yanked, kicked, and did all manner of defiant, vicious maneuvers in desperate attempts to break free...but through it all, he only heightened the pain in his wrist, and furthered his frustration.<br><br>This simply could not <em>happen</em>. It didn't make any sense! It defied logic entirely! Why couldn't he break free? This was not some impossible martial art...this was simply her brute strength gripping him, overpowering him. "You harrasing me, lady! I ain't done nothing wrong, jesus christ! Let me the fuck go! I ain't no drunk bum you can just kick around, chica!" He protested, still fighting with all his might, never once giving in or settling down.<br><br>Roland began to feel his frustration and desperation grow even further, hearing her nonchalantly calling her driver to pick her up...which meant she was doing this to him with <em>one hand?!</em> And he realized with impossible horror that it was true. Try as he might, using his entire body to lurch and thrash, she could restrain him into complete submission with just the use of a single hand. This sent Roland into almost a rage, his body jerking away from her with primal, almost animalistic fury...even as her other hand wrapped around his neck and he gurgled for air, gasping almost in a furied panic. Roland thrashed right through it all, never once letting go of his rage, his defiance, and his fury...but slowly, gradually, though the will was ever-present, the ability was drained from him...and Roland slumped forward against her body, passing out.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>15-02-2009, 23:44:40</strong>
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				This little rug rat continued to try and fight her. She was amused at how he saw fit to threaten her with crude language and haughty movements. He would find out soon enough that a female of worth was to be treated with respect and honor. Never should a female listen to someone take a Lord's name in vain nor curse in every other word sputtered from their lips. Well, she could care less about God Himself for He had forsaken her in her time of need. He sought to be all powerful and all forgiving yet He had not been there when she needed Him the most. When it was all said and done, God was not a God at all but a sadomasochist being who enjoyed to see his minions suffer in silent or open pain. For Gisell, she would show this thief God would not help him when it came to her.<br><br>Out of the corner of her eyes she could see a few other rug rats slither out from the darkness. A few she had seen from the few times they dared to accoust her and knew better now. One of them bore a scar of what happened when he sought to slice her throat to retrieve a diamond necklace. She could hear the one who she scarred heart beating rapidly knowing what would become of this hooligan she had in her grasp. The others moved forward but he held out a hand to stop them and forced them back into the shadows. That was a good boy, she thought sneering at him and blowing him a kiss as she felt her driver pull up next to her. <br><br>Once the berserker in her hands finally gave out and slumped against her, she took the good of mind to throw him into the arms of her driver. "Put him in the backseat with me," she replied, watching her driver as he easily placed the loathsome being into the limo. Her driver said nothing but in his eyes she could see his curiosity at what might happen to the street urchin. Gisell had plans for the vagabond and gracefully she slid into the backseat and let the driver shut it behind her. Now it seemed she would have to go another day without a manicure, such a pity. At least she did not have her nails done before she came into the company of the thief or another appointment would have been made to fix her cuticles.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ferran</strong> on <strong>16-02-2009, 01:34:35</strong>
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				Reality faded away in a thick black tunnel that swallowed up everything that existed, ending Roland's conciousness abruptly and causing his mind to drift into an idle, lost state of near-nothingness. Had Roland entirely been himself, he might have feared that she was intent on strangling him entirely, and not just knocking him out. She could have easily done it as well, and for all Roland knew, existence might never fade back in again, and he might've died on that seedy street in front of the nail salon. But Roland had not been himself. No, Roland had been consumed by rage and primal fury. It had happened a few times before...but only when he'd been cornered, and with no hope of escape.<br><br>And before it had actually worked. The pure ferocity of his instinct had either overpowered his assailant, or surprised them into pause...allowing him to escape. But not this time. No, this time his attacker had barely flinched at every one of his considerable efforts. And, to top it off, this time it had been a seemingly helpless and weak posh woman. It was almost humiliating. If Roland had seen the other hoodlums witnessing his capture, he'd fear for his life when...or if he ever got back to the streets. But they knew more than he about this woman, it seemed.<br><br>But slowly, gradually, the world began to return to him. He'd spent a good while passed out next to her in the back of the limousine, but after a little while, Roland's eyes fluttered open and he groaned softly. He was still very weak though, and he clearly had trouble moving. "Wha-...w-who are y-you...." He whispered in a raspy voice.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>16-02-2009, 20:34:37</strong>
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				The driver pulled away from the curb returning the three of them back to her estate. In San Francisco, there were several estates where it could be seen from the view of the Bay Bridge but for her she had it hidden away for privacy and for other mattes. She disliked people knowing which estate house was hers and for tonight this male would get to see the inside of her house. Only rent boys came in to have sessions with her but tonight, he would be the rent boy she wanted. He had fight in him which worked to her benefit but to his disadvantage. She could not wait to get her fingers around her paddle and make his bottom red with it.<br><br>She rubbed her nails over her jacket to try and buff it the best way she could. Gisell hated to reschedule appointments but if she received a new nail job she would crack or break them once she started in on this vagabond. She felt him stir from the darkness to which she put him in. Her eyes flickered towards his face where his own eyes fluttered open to look around. Chuckling a bit as he asked her who she was, she crossed her legs at the knees. An interesting male but one she would have more pleasure in breaking him down to a loyal puppy.<br><br>"Oh, I am the Maker of Desires and of Destruction," she whispered, chuckling a bit. She could easily ruin his life or make it worthwhile. All he had to do was figure out the right path for himself. First, she would enjoy his body but then in the end if he wanted to go ahead and be the same filthy and crude thief, then his fate would be sealed. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ferran</strong> on <strong>16-02-2009, 20:52:17</strong>
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				In truth, Roland's mind was far sharper than that of your typical street rat. It wasn't exactly in his genetics. His Cuban father had been from a long line of serfs and labormen, all of them either too stupid or too cowardly to do anything to change their dark circumstances. And his mother, well...she had little family to speak of. Roland had never asked what stock she'd come from, but he'd gathered it was too shameful even for her, a low-class white trash wife of a drunken immigrant, to recall. So Roland's gift of guile was certainly an oddity...but genetics was funny that way. Sometimes you threw two twisted masses of chromosomes together and they actually happened to weave together in a way far superior to either of the parents.<br><br>This was what had allowed Roland to stay alive and fed on the streets of San Francisco, alone and penniless. But it wouldn't save him now. No, sometimes, no matter how clever or cunning or witty you were...sometimes might makes right. And so, as Roland lay sprawled out in the back of a limousine next to a gorgeous monstrosity, he might as well have been as dense and drunken as his father. When Roland had secretly looked up at the rarely-clear night sky during those Californian winters, and when he had furtively and silently wished for someone to take him away...someone to snatch him up and care for him...someone to belong to...this had not been what he'd meant. Careful what you wish for.<br><br>Roland slowly, carefully began to sit up, his muscles aching and non-responsive from the shock of oxygen deprivation. "Uhh..." He groaned softly, still blinking and getting his bearings. He actually smirked at her introduction. "Oh?...mmm...I'm a big fan of your work..." Roland reached up to rub his head gently, the memories of what had happened to bring him here only just now beginning to slowly return. "Given the choice, can I have the first one?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>17-02-2009, 22:06:50</strong>
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				Gisell chuckled a bit to see him asking for the first choice. Did he really think she gave him much choice in anything no? Sure, she gave him option but she never said she would let him have the one he wanted. Mostly, it would be for her own pleasure and no one else's. Tonight, she would get her pleasure once she broke this alpha male's body and mind. Even now, she itched to take him down and have him lay over her lap while she spanked him. Strange a few rent boys thought but in the end, those males were pining for more when they left her estate.<br><br>"What makes you think you deserve anything but pain?," she questioned, fixing her dress and buffing her nails over and over on the fur coat she wore. Real fur and never faux fur. If any of those damn PETA members came near her, she made sure to show them how to cause a disturbance. In San Francisco, she was one of many members of a counsel that watched over a few counties. Different than a senator but she was here to help out any way she could to keep the newly made individuals from feeling the need to dominate the human population.<br><br>Sighing, she clicked her tongue and shook her head at him. For this human, she had to make an exception. This alley cat needed to know the meaning of respect and honor. He had no honor whatsover. If he did, he could have realized a female with a powerful energy surrounding her was a bad target to try and hit. Now he would pay the price and enjoy whether he was crying out in pain or in pleasure. "Tonight you will see what your thievery has gotten you into," she muttered.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ferran</strong> on <strong>17-02-2009, 23:14:04</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Roland hated beer. He despised it, really. It was bitter and often bland and simply a shitty way to ingest alcohol. This, of course, made it ironic that Roland actually <em>liked</em> the cheapest, worst, and most deluded beer on the market. Terrible beer is, ironically, so damned awful that you can't actually taste the beer in it. Which, for Roland, made it go down quite easy. So Roland had more than once in his life chugged two or three full jugs of the stuff. But, even after his most drunken and debaucherous nights spent in a haze of semi-consciousness, Roland had never woken up with a hangover quite as terrible as the one he woke to in that limousine.<br><br>Reality seemed bland...faded...worn at the edges. Everything had lost it's crispness, it's sharpness, and it's validity. Time seemed to be grinding against his skull as it relentlessly marched forward. So Roland groaned softly again and put his hand to his forehead, the memories of the last few hours slowly trickling back into his mind. For the moment, he was not particularly afraid. This woman was clearly dangerous, and obviously unique in some strange and terrible fashion...but she had also not killed him. If she were going to do so, she'd have already done it. Had Roland's mind been in a more alert state, he might've been concerned with her mention of pain. Rich people could get sick with power...and ache to see someone writhing under their knife. <br><br>But the sections of Roland's brain that properly handled fear had not yet booted up yet, so Roland just rubbed his forehead, disgruntled, and smirked at her words. "Well...it's gotten me into the back of a limo with a smokin' rich chick...so I like the way it's going so far." He said, amused. Her tone indicated this would almost certainly not be the case, but Roland had the habit of laughing in the face of darkness and ruin. <br><br>Because when that visage of horror and menace was staring you down, you could either laugh...or cry.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>19-02-2009, 04:15:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Oh, what a foolish male he was. However, this male would make her happy for a few hours. Not the kind of happy a female had when she ate a piece of chocolate nor when she received a solicitation for a date with the handsomest man in a bar. Nope. Gisell was slightly happy because of this idiotic vagabond. This male could easily take advantage of him, abuse him, hurt and degrade him. Now that person who would do all of these deliciously horrible things to the criminal would be none other than Gisell.<br><br>Who else but to show him what it took to learn his way around in this city of San Francisco. He should have started asking questions the minute he noticed that she managed to take him on without no problem at all. Should have realized that a female of her physical age was an impossibility at her height and her weight to defend against a man of his size. No female could ever achieve the strength unless she was a female wrestler or into major training of the muscles and Gisell did not need any of that whatsoever when it came to handling this little bastard. <br><br>Truthfully, she had the strength of a good fiffteen men on a good idea while on a bad day she could maybe handle five grown men with weapons but by then she would be dead tired, pun intended. Gisell was close to a hundred but her physical features made her seem much younger than her eighty-nine years but she had to hand it to immortality; immortality was a righteous thing to own in this day and age. Though she would use her immortality and her experience to good use on this street rat to show him his place in this world. That place would be at her feet no matter what.<br><br>Smiling at his comments about being with a 'smoking rich chick', she glanced away from the window. Turning back to her attention towards him, she nodded that he was in the presence of a rich bitch. "Though you will see this rich bitch will show you some fucking manners," she answered, smirking as she reached over to grab him by the collar to pull him towards her. "Understand that you will be used tonight and if you have a fucking problem with it, guess what? No one will save your sorry ass," she whispered.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ferran</strong> on <strong>19-02-2009, 04:34:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Roland began to feel all of his faculties returning to him. He remembered the moments leading up to his encounter with the woman...and the ensuing struggle. Roland tilted his head to look at her, fear in his eyes. He bit his lip, trying to back against his side of the limo, away from her. For a moment he just stared at her, mouth open at what he remembered, at the impossible strength and overwhelming power she possessed. He was powerless to stop her, he suddenly realized. Completely and totally helpless to prevent her from doing...anything. She could literally use and abuse him for anything she wanted. Death, he suddenly realized, might not be the worst thing that could befall him.<br><br>"Look...look lady...it was nothin' personal, aight? I just...just tryin' to make ends meet. It ain't easy out there for folk like me...so I'm sorry for trying to mess with you, okay...I didnt know...what you were." He shook his head, breathing hard. "Still don't, but...but I'm just a street rat, aight...I ain't nobody." He said, looking at her with fearful pleading. <br><br>This was just great. A fitting end to a pointless life. He'd tried so damn hard for so long to make something of himself...to stay alive and not end up dead or in jail. And in the end, it hadn't been enough. Roland just couldn't do a good enough job of taking care of himself. He yelped a little as she grabbed his collar and yanked her to him, going limp and letting her, not struggling for the moment. He knew that would only make it hurt more. "U-used? I...look, I don't know nothin' about that, lady...I...I mean you're a real pretty lady and all, but...but I ain't never done that. I'm a virgin, so...I wouldn't be much use..." He said, panting as he felt himself drawn close to her.<br><br>And, despite the rising fear and panic that throbbed in Roland's chest, the barest hints of mysterious arousal began to well up within him from her closeness, and the blowing of her breath on his neck.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>19-02-2009, 21:42:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When she felt his blood coursing faster through his veins, she could have ravished his throat with her fangs. Even now she felt the pressure of her fangs pressing against her shut mouth but she had to calm herself. No need to ruin the surprise of who he was dealing with in this room. Better to toy with him than to have him running out the door of the limo. Her eyes flickered over his body, eyeing the bulge of what she assumed was the size of his malehood. Those green eyes of hers went back to his face, putting on a sweet smile to get the next words across, "A virgin will do much better and to break you, beautiful."<br><br>Oh, how she had him going though she needed to make sure his future hung in the tedious balance. Gisell had to contain the smile she wanted to reveal upon her reddened lips. This street rat was a simpleton in the ways of her world. A virgin in fact which made her inner smile grow deeper as her fangs tried its best to push themselves out of their respective hiding place. Though her inner urge to rip his throat out and let him know what a vampire could do to a mere human in the blink of an eye. It had been too long since she had taken a submissive of her own. The last one had grown too old for her tastes and she had let him gone on with his life. She never kept one for more than a few years before time started to show on their features and realized that a life as a immortal's submissive was never meant to be. A few asked why she never gave them the third mark but it was simple, there was no pet she wanted to keep around.<br><br>If she had to boil it down to simpler terms, it was that she grew bored of the former pets. It was fun of course to be able to break down and mold a new submissive to her desires and wants. To be able to see her male slave rise anew and enjoy the pleasures and the pain she dished out to him though it never lasted long. With this one, she gave him a few months before her eyes started to wander to a new play toy. Such a shame but at least she would have fun for the most part with her new little protege. Oh, the things she would do to this hoodlum would make a Father of the Cross blush and repent his celibacy to take her confessional in the bedroom of a seedy motel. Just the way she enjoyed her priests.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ferran</strong> on <strong>23-02-2009, 03:44:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Roland now knew he was not in the presence of a human. He'd never before had contact with vampires, or anything of the supernatural. However, it was not blatantly obvious that she was not natural. She had beaten him in hand-to-hand combat...with just one hand. She had knocked him unconscious with nothing more than a thought and a whim. She had kidnapped him and driven a stake of fear into his heart that Roland could not dislodge. And, perhaps most terrifying of all, she had done all of this...and still managed to somehow ignite the fires of his desire hotter than he could ever remember them being stoked within him. A bulge formed in Roland's pants, and he could not, no matter how he tried, force it to go back down again.<br><br>It was insane. Here he was, the prisoner and plaything of a horrible, inhuman monster...and his body could not be more willing to succumb to anything she wanted. His mind reeled at this, panting as he tried not to struggle against her. His mind screamed against him to lurch and bolt for the door of the limo, to try to run as fast and hard as he could. But he knew he would not get far...and a deep, dark part of him did not want to. He wanted to see what she wanted to do to him...and he wanted to please her. He wanted to see her look on him with approval and satisfaction rather than disgust and anger. In truth, he simply wanted <em>anyone</em> to look at him like that. But that was not something Roland had allowed himself to realize just yet.<br><br>"W-what do you want with me?..." He said, swallowing. "I...I don't think I'll please you...physically..." He looked at her fearfully. "I'm...I'm not a good choice for this. I...look, I could try, I guess, but...but you won't like it. You...you look like a lady who has high-class tastes...I ain't high-class...I ain't got what you want. I'll just...disappoint."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Strange Serendipity in the Slums (Marguerite)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Marguerite</strong> on <strong>26-02-2009, 20:45:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Poor thing, he looked like he wanted to piss all over the fucking leather seats. He was a pathetic little boy if she looked him over again. Such a shame, he might be a good alpha male but she could see he was a little sissy boy knowing he was going to end up being punished for his foolish nature. However, her eyes caught on to the fact he was hard beneath his breeches. Her eyes flickered towards the noticeable bulge and chuckled. Aye, he might be a sissy male but he looked to be long in the pants. Her incisors itches to drag themselves against the base of his cock before she bit him and mar...No. She stomped down the thought with an imaginary boot. She had no need for another servant, not after what happened to Thomas. No servant was needed to find their place in her lifestyle.<br><br>"What is your name, Vagabond? Or is your name just Vagabond?," she questioned, looking him over. She could smell the fear and the need for something. Gisell wondered what need he had to try and get her to even think of him any better than a street rat. The driver informed her the destination was here and she chuckled before Gisell released the street rat from her hold. She wanted him to revel in the fact of how easily his death could be manufactured in a split second. How she had no remorse to reach over once more and this time break his neck. Even her driver would not ask questions when she ordered him to head into the house and give her time to rid herself of his body. She bet her dogs would enjoy a bit of a special meal tonight.<br><br>When the car came to a complete stop, she thanked the driver before he came over to open her door. Before she left the limo, her head slowly turned to look at the blubbering fool. "You will do just fine with your simpering and crying. Now get out of the limo and follow me. If not, I will do it myself and I will not hesitate to break your arm in the process," she commented, a sweetly twisted smile forming on her lips. A part of her hoped to see him fight her again and for her to go over to his side to black him out once more. While he was blacked out, Gisell would break one of his legs thus hindering him from running away from her and even crush his voice box to keep him from screaming. 
			</dd>
		</dl>
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