The Whisper of Death [1]

Continuing from The Whispers of Death Introduction.

RP Collaboration.

Fortune:

Fortune stared at herself in the hotel mirror after getting ready for dinner, the loose curls of her blonde hair falling over her shoulders.

“God, I look like my mother,” she said to herself.

Her brown eyes had fine eyeliner wrapped around them, creating a cat eye. Red lipstick covered her mouth. She gave a smile, testing it out. The large gap between her front teeth was much too noticeable for her liking. She frowned, turning around to get the full effect of her ensemble.

She wore a dress that her mother gave to her for her sixteenth birthday, probably the most expensive thing that her parents ever bought for her. The money that her father “earned” was hardly ever spent on anything besides hiring hit men and other things relating to the business. The dress was long and red, with a slit running up to her left thigh. The front was covered up to her neck, but the gown was backless and showed off her tan skin and freckled shoulders. Brushing her hands down her torso and evaluating her appearance one more time, she let out a sigh and turned off the light. It was now or never.

 

Subtle:

Lance stared at himself in the mirror when he got to his room. Why are you so shy? Is it just the way you were raised? He thought. His parents were always gone, and his sister was always rude to him. So he had to be shy for many reasons. Maybe being here would help him overcome the shyness. “If only…” He sighed.

After he took a moment to himself, he began to get ready for the ‘party’ happening tonight on about, oh, 25 minutes. He put on a fancy suit, and made sure his hair looked at least a little decent. The freckles stared back at him in the mirror. What if you don’t get along with anyone? Oh you will. stop worrying about it… And he continued to get ready for the ‘big night.’

 

Lilah:

A few hours prior…
Stan was in the middle of the horrendous crowd before him. It annoyed him to no end to be in the middle of the swarming students, there was also a buzz going on about a celebrity’s daughter by the name of… Well Stan had no idea ‘Who the fuck cares anyway,’ He barely listened to the announcment, the architecture, while good looking did not faze him unlike others. He figured he was in the second pile of students going through the elevator dragging his black high quality suitcase he enters the elevator, ‘Bahh, parties aren’t my thing,’ He mentally whines despite knowing he would come anyways. The room number which he didn’t even check earlier was 418, he made his way after arriving on his floor.

 

Time Skip (7:24)

The hotel room was expensive looking, with tasteful furniture and its own kitchen, Stan didn’t really care as long as the place had WI-FI and a place to put his laptop he was content.
Stan, after checking the time decided it was time to go, not caring about his appearance, putted on a blazer on top on a white short-sleeved shirt, after finishing a quest in a video game, he grabbed a messenger bag filled with stuff he found necessary, and went out of the hotel room.

 

SA:

Celeste walks towards the huge bathroom, and took a quick shower, the shower glass had etched in flowers and was tinted blue. After she got out of the shower she began to do her makeup. she put on: a generous amount of BB cream, powder, peach blush, black eyeliner, mascara, shimmery eye shadow, and clear lip gloss. She unpacked her suitcases in order to find her dress and put her clothing from the bus ride over in the fold up hamper that she brought. Her dress was short sleeved covered in silver sequins, it hugged her body and went a teeny bit below her mid-thigh. She blow dried and curled her red hair and put on a black satin headband with a bow. She slipped her feet into some tall black heels. Her watch read 7:29, so she quickly hurried out of her suite and into the elevator again.Celeste walks towards the huge bathroom, and took a quick shower, the shower glass had etched in flowers and was tinted blue. After she got out of the shower she began to do her makeup. she put on: a generous amount of BB cream, powder, peach blush, black eyeliner, mascara, shimmery eye shadow, and clear lip gloss. She unpacked her suitcases in order to find her dress and put her clothing from the bus ride over in the fold up hamper that she brought. Her dress was short sleeved covered in silver sequins, it hugged her body and went a teeny bit below her mid-thigh. She blow dried and curled her red hair and put on a black satin headband with a bow. She slipped her feet into some tall black heels. Her watch read 7:29, so she quickly hurried out of her suite and into the elevator again.

 

Lilah:

Stanley’s right eye twitched, the dress that a girl about his age wore to the ‘Party’ was annoying him greatly, the silver sequins bothering his eyes. He stared at the girl, with an annoyed face. Not recognizing the famous Celeste.

 

SA:

Celeste noticed someone about her age with dark hair staring at her. He seemed mildly annoyed, at her dress? Maybe he didn’t like her parents? Did she have something on her dress? Did she step on his foot?
” Can I help you?” She asked. She mainly asked this to acknowledge the fact that he was glaring at her, but also out of her curiosity; she’s not used to people looking at her like that.

Lilah:

“Not really,” Stan said, he turned away, and looked at the number of the floor, they were about to arrive, the elevator doors opened “Well you can get rid of the dress, but I hardly think you will do so.” He said walking out of the elevator.

 

Subtle:

Lance walked out of his room and looked around. No one, he thought. This place is big, how could no one be in the hallways– He stopped himself mid-sentence and realized: the party, that’s why. He then made his way to the elevator and made it to the floor the party was being held on and looked around again. I know nobody here… Maybe I should make some friends.

 

Ob:

Calista tucked her keycard on her purse when someone suddenly talked to her. She looked up and saw a dark haired guy with olive skin tone, perfectly dressed in a tailored suit. Calista arched an eyebrow and looked around but there was no one else behind her. She looked at him again, “Uh.. Me?”

Asha:

Earlier on the bus that day…

Rome was in the last row, and thus, was one of the last students to get out. Everyone shot her nervous looks. They had all heard the rumours about how she had a shot a boy for bumping into her in the hallways and then walking away without apologising.
Honestly. I may be the daughter of a mafia boss but I’m not crazy. I just punched him. Stupid pricks, spreading rumours.

Grabbing her bag and room key, without thanking the person who handed them to her (the guy wouldn’t look straight at her anyway), Rome made her way to her room after listening to the announcer dude say something about a party.

Looks like I’ll have to quit my badass style for some time. Ugh, parties suck.

7:00 pm, half an hour away from the party…

Rome stepped out of the shower with her raven black hair wet and sticking all around her neck. She had already chosen her dress and make up, and laid them out on her bed.

She would be wearing a strapless, icy blue dress that hugged her hourglass shape perfectly, with silver heels that had blue gems lined along the straps. Her make up included a natural looking layer of foundation, silver eye shadow, and natural looking lipstick. She had decided to leave her hair straight, like how she usually left it. Her only accessories were dangling earrings.
In exactly half an hour, she was ready.

Smirking as she grabbed a silver purse with all her necessary stuff in it, she got into a lift that had some other people in it. They visibly moved to a corner of the lift as she walked in, and gawked at her at the same time. “What are you looking at?” She asked them coldly, and they quickly looked.

In a minute, Rome had reached the level where the party was being held. She walked out the lift, and the other two students walked out after she had.

So this is our welcoming party. She thought, as she looked around.

 

SA:

” You think I have a choice to wear this crap?” She said under her breath frustrated before she realized the elevator doors are opening. She put a fake smile on her face and walked out of the elevator and into the party.

Razor:

“Yeah, you.” Jon said with a slight smirk. There was no one else in the corridor, and he wasn’t the kind of guy to talk to himself. Pulling out the party notice, which she may well recognize he flashed it at her, before folding it back up smartly to place back into his jacket pocket. “I think I saw you on the bus earlier.” The Italian looking lad was giving her cues in which to speak, but it may well have fell flat, as she wasn’t one for small talk by the looks of it. “So are you going to the party downstairs?” He asked, then finally remembering his manners. “I’m Giovanni…er.. Jon, by the way.” He didn’t give up his last name, since Jon didn’t think she’d want to go on his arm if she knew who he was the son of. Jon spoke with a slight accent, that could be considered endearing, if you liked that sort of thing.

There was a moment of awkward silence, as he could hear the ping of the elevator.

“If we hurry we could catch that one.”

 

Lilah:

 

“Maybe you have a choice, maybe you don’t, how the hell am I supposed to know?” Stan said, irritated. The girl was a bother, annoying and probably thought her life was hard to live, despite not being so. With that Stan went off to the party, making his way through the crowd, he leaned on a wall and just awkwardly stood there next to the snack table, not being known for being a social butterfly, most people ignored Stan, he after all was not his younger siblings, who were adored by the public. But of course some whispers about the guy were made, he was after all a famous actresses son.

 

Ob:

Calista gave him a smile. “Of course I know you.” she inserted an arm on the arm he offered. Her other free hand held the purse. “Shall we? Before we get late on that party.” Calista said. “Such a gentleman of you. I didn’t expect someone would see me and eventually escort me to that party.” She chuckled.

Calista may not talk a lot but she knows when to give away her charm. She knows a lot and everyone than she is expected to. She also knows how to play and let someone be in her hands. But that’s another story.

Asha:

 

At the party, Lucius saw this girl with Raven hair and a dangerous look on her. He had heard the rumours about her, shooting a boy in the hallways. Of course it wasn’t true: If something happened, Lucius was always there to take pictures. What was her name again? Some city. Paris? No, that couldn’t be. London? That would just be stupid. Rome! Her name was Rome! A not even decent opening line came into his head: just the way he liked it. He walked up to the girl, tapping her on the shoulder of her icy blue dress. “Ave, Romae estis? Tu estis pulcra et magna! Sum Lucius. You know what that means?”

 

Razsor:

There was something magical about the way a simple smile can light up a girl’s face. It was the best indicator that Jon hadn’t been too bold in his intentions to escort Calista to the party. The girl looked a knockout in the silver gown, and matched his attire to a T. The pair looked as though they planned this, though nothing could be further from the truth. From the way she spoke, she already knew who he was. Well, that was understandable. He was a Bianchi, and they had a certain profile – both physically and in the media. Taking her arm properly, he strolled with her to the lift – his chest out proud and his chin held high. You could say he met up to the name, and was certain to show Calista off when they arrived at the party.

“It’s fashionable to make an entrance….or in our case, be a little late.” Jon and Calista just made the lift and he spun her around when the doors closed – sealing them in. The dark haired Jon flicked his hair back a little, as part of it had fallen down before his eyes. It gave him a slightly roguish look. “A beautiful girl such as yourself deserves to be shown off…and I plan to do just that.” Giovanni’s cologne was quite strong in the confined space of the lift, and it may have made Calista a little light headed. Everything, about Jon…seemed to be rich and powerful. From the fleck of gold from his cuff links and watch, to the fifty watt smile, that he only showed to someone he either wanted to impress, or genuinely liked.

On the opening of the doors on the floor where the party was happening, the smile fell away and he looked dominant once again.

“Lets show these kids how it’s done.”

 

SA:

She glared back at the guy, he came off at so negative, but at the same time she didn’t mind that he didn’t know who she was. She was near some other famous girls; they were less well known than herself, nevertheless, they still complained about their first world problems and bragged about the all the awards the received from a few years back. She just agreed, smiled, and nodded; just like her parents wanted her to. This is how you make friends right? She thought anxiously.

 

Ob:

“Oh, that’s great then?” there was a faint question in her voice. But Calista, nevertheless, let the dark haired boy escort her to the party. It was already full of people, the speakers were producing mellow music… yet. She walked with confidence along with Jon, her heels making bold sounds on the orange-yellow floor as they entered the party. Her face showed a faint, intimidating smile, something that she rarely does. But she feels confident, especially with Mr. Bianchi here.

 

 

 

Mad Lib Madness.

Joe Santagato and his friend put a whole new spin on fun with Mad Lib as a party game.  I laughed at this till I cried.  So much so, I had to find the follow up.  You can find the app for this game on iTunes.  What was once a game in English class, can now make your next party a lot of fun.

The object of the game: Fill out a Mad Libs game with your friend, put water in your mouth, and then try not to laugh when it’s read back to you.

Enjoy!

Masked Desire – Fable of Swords.

The true depths to which Lady Dominique would go to defend what is hers was only now being known.  Behind the green eyes, and the beautiful smile, lay the beating heart of a true demon.  Only thing was….she was human.  This night would now bring the players to her game table.  Nobles that wished to partake in sins of the flesh.  A gathering of her faithful – masked from the light.

The Slave Market and Spa

Co-written with Moo and Chor.

Moo:


Ava smirked as her stirring slowed gradually to a stop. Dominique’s grin was enough to give her an answer; she would in fact have a special job to do this evening. The woman lifted her drink and took a long sip as she listened to the ginger talk. With a small and thoughtful mmm, Ava set it back down on the bar and licked her lips. “I would be glad to ease the weight from your shoulders,” she prompted. The explanation that followed wasn’t what she had expected completely. But knocking a man down a few pegs would always be payment enough for the woman. Not to mention the damage he had probably done was something to her property here in the slave market. He sounded like a pig…like someone she might enjoy toying with. “I’m listening…” Her elbow rested against the bar as she leaned forward to show her interest in the job. A small heh and she was grabbing the bag of coin, weighing it in her hand as she listened to the rest. Her eyes lifted to meet Dominique’s, a small and playful grin settling on her lips. “Of course. You have my word it will be done tonight.” At this point, the compensation meant less to her than the joy of seeing the scum grovel at her feet. “He’ll be left with nothing but his humiliation…” Strip the man of his pride along with everything else. What a refreshing…and appealing thought.

Razorbackwriter:  

The Slave Market and Spa

Oh how Dominique adored hearing words of acceptance to the idea of cheating this horrid wife beating scum out of everything. It was almost as delicious as eating a favorite fruit. The slave Mistress knew well of Ava’s views on the types of men that treated women no better than dogs. One thing that the shared was that while they did buy and sell people for the use of pleasurable entertainment, they did their best to ensure that they were treated as valuable commodities. No expense was spared to make sure they were healthy and kept clean with decent quarters. Dominique ran one of the most exclusive spas in the city, and there was high expectations in just what her clients paid for. The niece of the King liked to think of her establishment as a pleasure dome – a place where all your cares were swept away and you were made to feel like royalty and treated to such glorious attentions. From bathing, massages and of course naughty nocturnal activities. Her events were more like theatrical styled plays where the customers became seduced into the luxurious settings and entertained by all manner of troupes and luscious ladies that tended to your every need and desire.

With Ava accepting the offered coins to be the wagers played in the game of chance, the woman would not have to spend a coin of her own money. The rewards however….oh the personal gratification would be worth its weight in gold and a memory to hold for a lifetime.

“Very good. Very good.” Rising from her chair, Dominique felt the sheer fabric of a fine shawl being draped over her shoulders by her ever attentive Tim. “I would like a full blow…by blow account when this is done, my dear.” Dominique batted her eyelashes as she flashed a wicked smile. “I so look forward to our next meeting.” That said, Dominique moved from the table, Tim only stopping to bow graciously before Ava, as a servant brought up payment for the slaves which she had delivered prior to the Ladies having a little drink.

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“With our Mistresses esteemed compliments.” There was more than enough that covered payment for the slaves of that day.

~RB~

Moo: Ava smiled as she watched Dominique rise from her chair. “I’ll be sure to save all the juicy details for you,” she returned easily. The woman was more than content to share the wicked humility she would put that gentleman through, especially with the likes of Dominique. The redhead stated the very thoughts passing through Ava’s mind, leaving her to nod subtly. “As do I,” she agreed before she stood. The redhead would be leaving the table to attend to her usual duties, it seemed. Not a problem for Ava, as she could leave the spa and continue on with her evening before her special date later tonight. She looked to Tim, who was already bowing. She gave him a nod of respect before turning her attention to the nearing servant, taking payment for the slaves she brought in today. More than enough, actually. “Thank you, darling.” Ava reached into the pouch, taking out a coin to look at before stuffing it back in. “I’ll see myself out.” With a broad smile, she began walking away, and out the door back to her carriage. Tonight was about to be one of the most entertaining yet…

Razorbackwriter:  

The Slave market and Spa

Watching Ava take her leave through the grand gates, she would have seen the arriving procession of carriages all of which had black curtains to shield the nobles faces from the gazes of those on the streets. Each one that stopped had a masked man or woman exit. Each wore masks upon their faces to conceal their identities. The affair of Lady Dominique was strictly invite only, and she made sure that discretion was of the utmost importance. All the workers scattered from within the courtyard as the sound of strange music and drums could be heard, to herald the arrival of the esteemed guests.

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At the gate, two guards, whose faces were also covered, to only show their eyes took the parchment scrolls from each guest – checking them for authenticity. Scanning the scripture and the seal of De shea. Once accepted, they were handed back. A gloved hand gestured for the guests to enter the gates, one at a time. Silence befell them as on the balcony Dominique disappeared within the doors to her private chambers. There, she had four servants, all wearing masks on their faces. Dominique moved to the center of the room, and she extended her arms as her clothing was all carefully removed. it was almost like a ritual of sorts. The only male present was Tim – who stood well back as he too was being changed into the robes of the De Shea. He watched on, as Dominique was washed down, from head to foot with various sponges and cloths. Oils were rubbed into her skin, and hair plucked from places to show she was clean shaven. Perfect. Her ginger curls were brushed out till they shone – flowing down her back till it reached the very base of her back. Just resting on the rise of her rounded backside. A golden mask was fitted to her face, to shield her from the gaze of those males that may guess to who lay behind it. It was all part of the game. Finally, when dried off, she was dressed. A stunning black robe that pooled onto the floor at her feet. Each foot was lifted with care, and golden threaded sandals were fitted carefully by a servant that knelled on the ground before their Mistress. The air in her chamber was rich with burning incense, that wafted about those in the room. Almost intoxicating and added to the magic as the doors were finally opened to allow the Mistress to join with the honored guests at her night affair.

The party to end them all.

Walking with purpose, Dominique headed out and down the right passage, going down the stairs slowly to see the torch bearers ready to illuminate the path as she passed each with her head held high. Like some grand priestess, this was how the night was to be played out.

Already in the main audience chamber, those that had arrived early were already feasting upon the flesh of the masked – yet naked slaves. Men and women alike. The cries and moans of pleasure melded with the music, and as Dominique walked amongest it all, she felt her own heart start to beat faster. Sin…debauchery. This was the devil’s playground and it all belonged to her.

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If only….if only she could dance with Him upon her silk sheets, and let him drink of her sweet nectar…one last time.

The chosen male that she had picked from the line up was already waiting. He had been stroking himself into readiness as the Mistress made a bee line for him. In behind, Tim watched on. He wore his mask and he did not partake in the festivities, but no doubt his dreams would be filled with the decadent images of what he was to see. The pounding of drums continued on….the lone singer sang in an Indian chant and it was to this rhythm that the orgy got into full swing.

~RB~

Chor:  The Lady De shea’s orgies were such quiet – well, that may not be the right term- and personal affairs. There was a list and if you weren’t printed on the beautiful cut parchment then you might as well be street-scum for this coveted occasion. It wasn’t exceptionally often that the Lady had such parties, but when she did it was a special, special place at the market. Much to her surprise, she was asked to- instead of dealing with the rest of the slaves as she normally would- assist in the bathing and dressing of the Lady. This was an honour she could not pass down. The man who informed her, though not to her face and very much behind her back to another giggling housemaiden, that she ought to keep her robes on. Ashamed, she confined herself to the bathhouse until called upon to the Mistress’ quarters to ready her for the grand orgy that was to occur in a short time. As Mala went about washing the Lady’s thin form, she could only think of how beautiful the woman was. The clear, flawless skin and the untouched and perfect bone structure. What Mala really found herself jealous of was the Lady’s hair. Long and soft, curling as she held it and ran a brush through it. Eventually, the time came for the event to begin.

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Mala was dressed in her own black robe and mask. She steered particularly clear of most of the commotion and kept to the shadows, watching the event from the sidelines. She was secretly relieved she didn’t have to participate. This kind of thing wasn’t really part of her niche, but if told to she would oblige. At this moment, though, her participation would be an embarrassment and dampen on the whole party.

Razorbackwriter:  

The Slave Markets and Spa

If you have ever seen the frantic pace in which a beehive lives and breathes, you could say that it was something to be compared to what was taking place before Mala’s eyes. So many moving around in ritualistic movements that were done not so much by thought but by instinct. At the center of it all was the Hive’s Queen, or rather Lady Dominique. Having her robe removed by two muscular slaves with masks on and nothing else, she straddled her chosen lover for the night and rode him as though he was a prized stallion. There was no love, no emotion – just a raw display of the power that this woman had. In fact, many stopped midway through their own ministrations to take in the event unfolding. The loud grunts from her chosen and the sweat riddled face that was shielded behind the mask – stared up at his Mistress as though he was enthralled by her, as most were. But if only they knew what was going on in Dominique’s own mind. She was a million miles away with the lover of her dreams. The King. Well before his sickness, when he was the proud and powerful monarch of the lands.

It was the King who had her love, captured as though a butterfly within a jar. There was simply no escape, and there was no air in which to breathe. It would eventually suffocate and die from the starvation of the life giving air, or in this case love.

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As the robed guests milled around, and either partook, or simply enjoyed the voyeuristic pleasures to come from watching Dominique and the others – Tim moved in beside Mala. he was aware of who she was by the markings on the mask. It was his way of keeping track of just who was who and who was WITH who. Call it cataloging, or more like a type of branding that didn’t mark the skin at all. His masked face turned towards Mala, who would have been completely unaware of the Mistress’s deal with Ava. He was of course sworn to the secrecy of the Lady’s plans, but he did have one thing to whisper to the slave.

“We all get our pleasures in different ways.” His dark brown eyes would look back to his Mistress, who had amazing stamina. “But in the end….we all want the same thing…” Tim’s voice changed in this light hush so as not to be overheard. What did he mean, you think? It was a question that Mala may well ponder.

~RB~

Chor:  Mala watched display as everyone did, but for her it was but a background show. The woman was delving deep into her mind, the scene before her reminding her of the painful hours of her late night and early morning. With each moan was a flinch as her vision clouded. These were not tears, but the painful reminders of her lack thereof. Friendly dwellers to blur her sight. As Tim appeared beside her once more…the second time this day, she peered to him. Looking more through him than at him. He spoke and she listened, feeling and tasting the words on her lips as he said them. She looked from him to their mistress then, who was still going at it.

“I suppose you are right,” Mala whispered to him, clasping her hands before her and resting them against her torso. What did Mala’ikan really want? Freedom? She knew this unattainable. Love? She knew this to be a lie. Happiness? Ha, she laughed in the face of happiness. She wished often for a life worth living, but there has never been anything she truly wanted save for death…on so many occasions, death.

Razorbackwriter:  

The Slave market and Spa

Tim stood beside Mala and did not react to Mala’s whispered words. In a way he was hypnotized by watching his Mistress in her sexual movements with the chosen slave. The Mistress was not one to go from one to the next, like you might expect. When she had done with him, she’d retire to an area that was screened off, but still with viewing portals and able to hear all that was going on. This was as much to watch the masked nobles. Little did the nobles understand when they were sent their masks by special delivery that Dominique had picked them personally. Mentally, she was able to work out exactly who was who and what they favored, or rather what their kinks were. It enabled her to provide, not only a better service to them in the coming months, but in some ways it was leverage. A true Queen of her web of sin, she was slowly but surely wrapping each up using their own hedonistic pleasures in which to trap them. Oh yes, she promised discretion and anonymity to those that partook in these events, but at the end of the day, they were all pawns on her chess board that would eventually come to realize that there was no escape.

A true demon in every word, except she was the daughter of Eve.

Having finished with her chosen slave, she caressed his masked cheek, before sliding off his lap and then having her robe placed back around her by two of her servants. The wickedness was to continue until the wee hours, or until the last man finished, but it did not need her to be there the entire time. Dominique was above all others and would move to her special viewing area, where she would be cleaned of the sweat and sexual juices, before getting comfortable on a cushioned lounge and provided with wine and fruit.

Her mask could now be removed, as she was no longer in plain sight and this was when Tim was given the signal to Tim to bring Mala down to this special area.

“Come.” He asked simply, gesturing with Mala to follow, till they reached the veiled off area.

Once inside, Mala would be able to see Dominique lying back, wearing nothing but necklaces and a few anklets.

“Ah…Mala, do come in.”

Tim would nod for the woman to do as instructed, but he would then remove his mask. An indication that Mala should do the same.

“Mala, I do not wish for you to leave this eve. I have arranged a special room to accommodate you.”

If Mala had any reservations as to what her husband may say of this, she was about to find out in very harsh terms.

~RB~

Chor:  As the mistress finished, there was a hush before the masses once again started up their own rituals. Noises of passion filled Mala’s ears and despite her attempts to flush them out, they became a music. Often she was assigned a place with those charged with musical accompaniment for the night, but it seemed there was a separate purpose for her at this evening affair. Tim gestured towards the place where their mistress went to rest and she obliged, following obediently. Years and years ago, this willingness to do just as she was told would have sickened her. The learned response now is just agreement. To fight is to lose and to lose it to die.

“My lady,” Mala spoke, bowing to her mistress until given the permission to stand and look upon her. Her sight was breathtaking, as always, and her activities brought a glow about the mistress’ form that Mala could only dream of. Mala drew her robes closer in disgust at herself. She reluctantly removed her mask, but it did nothing if the woman already knew of her identity underneath. What came out of the mistress’ dark and luscious lips was a complete surprise. It also brought great anxiety. My stars, that man will kill me yet… A nod bobbed her head; she could not refuse. In her eyes, though, there was evident fear and confusion.

Razorbackwriter:  

The Slave market and Spa

Dominique was very attuned to reading a person’s body language, and when she saw the way that Mala drew her cloak around herself, matched with that facial expression it brought about a quiet sigh from the Mistress. She knew….oh yes she knew what this meant. It actually annoyed her somewhat, but it also confirmed much of what she was already thinking. Those dark eyes showed the very pits of the poor girl’s soul. What terrible things had the man that was known as simply her husband done to her within the confines of their marital home? The Slave Mistress could only imagine. Dominique’s eyes darted towards Tim, who was present as always.

“Leave us a moment.” Her voice directed to her assistant, who graciously bowed and made his way out of the secluded area. Tossing aside a cushion, Dominique pushed herself up off the lush spread of satin pillows, and without a seeming care in the world about her state of undress, she moved with the grace of a panther towards the girl, and reached for the tie that held the robe she wore in place. The Slave Mistress was careful in her movements, her eyes not leaving that of Malas’s as she un-threaded the robe to let it simply fall from the girl’s shoulders. Dominique did not show an expression of lust, nor want as she let her eyes take in that of Mala’s naked form. Instead, she started to walk around her, inspecting her body and making up her own mind about what she could see, and what she couldn’t. Some marks were very hard to hide, but not only that, the girl’s reaction to the simplest touch would speak volumes.

Coming in behind her, Dominique tilted her head slightly, as she drew the tip of her finger along one of the lash marks that were on the girl’s back. It was not done to hurt the girl, but to make her understand full well, that the Mistress was no fool. She knew what that beast of a man had done.

“Why hurt something so beautiful?” Her words were like whispers within the back ground of the sounds of pleasure that were happening just beyond the screen. Dominique appreciated the beauty of Mala’s all too gaunt form. If the Slave Mistress had her way, she would plump the girl up a little. Dominique stepped up so now her naked body could just be felt upon the girl’s back. The Slave Mistress then swept the girl’s hair back softly, before bending in to kiss the back of the girl’s neck. Her hot breath sure to send a wild sensation throughout the shivering girl’s form. “You should be worshiped for the Goddess that you are.” An almost lusty tone now entered these words, as Dominique brought her hands around and placed one hand upon the girl’s stomach, the other gently resting upon her breast.

“I won’t let him harm you ever again. I promise.” A hushed yet husky whisper melded with the gentleness of her wandering hands, proved weight to that statement. “You shall remain here….and I shall teach you what it is to be loved.”Her nose moved along the tip of Mala’s ear, before she slowly released the girl and went back to her nest of satin pillows. Settling back in, she clapped for Tim to return back into the room. He was quick to cover the girl once again with the same robe that had fallen to the floor.

“Take her to the Ambrosia suite.” The Ambrosia suite was one for the richest of nobles, but for tonight, it would be Mala’s room. Without another word, Dominique went back to peering through the viewing portals at her writhing guests.

~RB~

 

 

 

 

 

OOGA OOGA CHAKA! – SS

The Hell’s Kitchen crew start the party off with an innocent game of Twister.  That is till Roxanne puts her right foot green.

Scene setting – Hell’s Kitchen party room :  Seven Sins series.

Co-written with Temp and Moo.

Temp:  Roxanne had been happily noming away at the Pizza and drinks. There had been a fair bit of soda brought in with the pizza, but Roxanne had other plans. While the others were partying away she had busted out her private stash of booze. She sipped away at the various drinks that she made and giggled happily as Loc rested upon her bodacious breasts. Hell the guy could probably play with them at this point and she wouldn’t even notice. While the others danced she simply sat still eating and drinking away. She bobbed her head back and forth to the music without a care in the world. Any jealousy that she might have had towards Narcissa being the Doctors dancing partner was simply not present, but that was thanks to the booze.

 

Moo:  Narcissa had long since abandoned her shoes, grabbing a slice of pizza to chomp away at during the minutes of freedom she had left. There was nothing better than food! She took a huge bite while Wilhelm started up the music, bobbing her head while she chewed and swallowed. Her free hand was taken only moments later, being spun about the room while she giggled and laughed, somehow managing to hold onto the rest of her slice before tossing it on the table they swept past. Oh well.“Doctor is good on his feet!” she remarked lightheartedly. Narcissa was of course oblivious to the fact that Roxanne was drinking a special stash of her own booze. She was most likely oblivious to the fact that the nurse drank in the first place. She waved, looking genuinely happy to see the nurse in good spirits with Loc nearly fondling her breasts at this point.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Wilhelm’s cheeks shone with a rosy flare when Narcissa said that the Doctor was good on his feet. He had always been fond of dancing ever since he watched John Travolta strut his stuff on the big movie screen. Wilhelm was not that good, but for what he lacked in style, he made up for with enthusiasm in every step. He beamed at each of his crew as he passed them on the small checkered dance floor, only stopping when the song changed to something of a slower tempo. Igor at this point was flat on his face, since the poor sod kept getting knocked over by the Doctor’s wayward leg kicks.

“Not a time to be lying down on the job, Igor. Up….up up! It’s time to party.”

He snatched up Igor by the collar and gave him a light dusting off. Igor of course a little out of breath but more than happy not to still be on his face.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Gracious as ever. If it was one thing the crew had…it was manners. They were a unique bunch in Hell. They had a strong work ethic, but when it came to down time….they did it better than any other place. Not consumed by the Sins of the Creed. Let the Royals have at that all they liked.

The Doctor picked up the spin wheel chart, to start off the game of Twister, unaware that Roxanne was helping herself to her private stash. This game could get a little silly if the contestants were off their face.

 

“Okay, my lovelies….Let’s play!” The Doctor spun the needle and then pointed to Roxanne. “Enough pizza and pop. You’re first. Right hand green!” He waited with a smile to see Roxanne take her place on the mat. One thing was for sure, Loc was going to love this game. The creation got up from his comfy head rest and thundered over to the Doctor on the sidelines to watch his favorite nursey….bend over.

 

~RB~

 

Temp:  Roxanne hadn’t been paying much attention to the things going on around her. Most of her thoughts were a jumbled mess at the moment due to her pounding down several drinks. Thankfully she wasn’t really needed for anything at this time, so her lack of comments and participation would go mostly unnoticed. Of course, that all changed when the Doctor decided to bust out the game of Twister. She tilted her head curiously as she watched the mat get set up, but didn’t react until the Doctor called for her. She was sure to comply immediately, and skipped over to the mat in a bit of a wobbly fashion. Once she was there she did as the game demanded of her, which consisted of her bending over completely. Though, she did it a bit slower than necessary and looked back at the others while she did so. For whatever reason, she felt like playing the tease at the moment. She was flexible, so toying with them while she played wouldn’t be any problem.

 

Moo:  Narcissa’s dancing was up to speed–with Wilhelm, anyway. She never once tripped or tumbled, even in her ball gown. She never really questioned the aspect of playing Twister while wearing such regal gowns and suits. Her mind was on the fun! Endless fun for the entire crew! Even Igor would have a hand in this, though he spent the first portion of the party on his face. The poor hunchback would have to be picked up by Wilhelm once the music stopped, leaving Narcissa to giggle and hold her head in place while her entire body wobbled and swayed. It was almost as if she was drunk, simply from the dizziness the dancing provided. Watching as the mat was finally finished with the set up, the good Doctor was sure to allow Roxanne the pleasure of being first to move. Narcissa gave a loud cheer, clapping her hands–as simple as this was in the beginning, it looked as though it was taking a bit of effort on Roxanne’s part.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Igor, Loc and the Doctor all tilted over at the same time as Roxanne bent over and flashed those gorgeous rounded jubless of hers. Even the Doctor had to admit, they were something, and we all know what Loc thought. He had proven his affection for those breasts more than once since his awakening. Narcissa, well she was bouncing and clapping – clearly loving every minute of the fun and games that they five were getting into.

Straightening up, the Doctor spun the wheel and it landed on left hand red. “Righto Loc. Slap one of your hands down on a red dot.” Loc looked dumbfounded at first and held up both his hands, staring at each one. The poor giant had no idea which was left and right. He started to whimper till Igor hobbled over and grabbed a sharpie, then writing LEFT on his left hand and then a big RIGHT on his other hand.

Holding up the left hand, he wiggled it. “This one…on the red dot.”

“RED!”

“Yes…red. Go on.”

Loc slammed down his left hand, bending over and then realizing he had a better view of Roxanne’s breasts. Oh…he liked this game. He started to dribble on the mat as he was transfixed by those lovely mounds. Yes, this was a game he now loved. The doctor chuckled as he spun the dial again and pointed at Narcissa. “Right foot yellow!” He wobbled his head as the tune on the jukebox played a classic that really said a lot about the crew.

“Hooked on a feeling.”

Next it was Igor’s turn.

“Left hand blue, Igor!”

The hunchback was walking around trying to see a way in and nearly walked right into Loc’s backside. He barely missed it and wiped away a few beads of sweat. Seeing an opening, he stuck down his hand and started to wiggle to the song.

Loc…burst into song.

“HOOOOKED…..ON A…FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELINGGGGGGGGGGGGG!”

 

~RB~

 

“Let’s Party!” – SS.

 

For the crew of Hell’s Kitchen, the Masked Ball of Greed turned out to be a fizzer before they could even get in the door.  So, what do you do when you are all dressed up and no place to go?  Throw your own party!

Scene setting : Hell’s Kitchen Laboratory – Seven Sins series.

Co-written with Temp and Moo.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The roar of the roadster could be heard coming up the cobblestone drive of Hell’s Kitchen Laboratory, with the scent of pizza and garlic bread wafting from inside the car. The horn beeped twice, as the Doctor shut off the engine. “Well, wasn’t quite the night I had hoped, but this…this is my kinda after party. Pizza and twister!” Yes, the crew were going to be in for a night of fun till the wee hours, eating Mario’s pizza and playing that family fun floor game Twister.

From inside the lab, Igor came running out to see that the roadster was back. He was a bit curious as to why they were back so early. The Doctor who had already gotten out and was making his way to the back of the roadster to hand Loc the 50 or so pizza boxes, laughed loudly when he saw Igor’s gob smacked expression.

“Master….what happened? Why all the pizza?”

“Because my ever faithful humpy. The Greed Ball was a Ball room Blitz. In every sense of the word. We were locked out, and then everyone ran helter skelter out into the town. I dare say that Greed is going to be closed for renovations for some time.”

If the Doctor was at all upset about the whole thing, he didn’t seem it. Passing Loc five pizza boxes at a time. Loc was very agile at managing to juggle the towering boxes of pizza. The Doctor went to open the doors for Roxanne and Narcissa and sung out. “Don’t leave the garlic bread in the car…you know how much it can stink up the place. Ah ha ha!”

Once the girls had the sides, the bottles of soda and garlic bread, the four would all head inside to have a good night after all.

~RB~

 

Temp:  Roxanne had been slightly disappointed by the Ball being a bit of a letdown, but she really didn’t let it show. She had remained happy and cheerful throughout the entirety of their trip, singing and dancing along in the vehicle along the way. Keeping everyone in good spirits was important, especially when they had something like Loc with them. She made sure to keep him entertained and happy with the things he liked most, boobs. Thankfully, that was rather easily accomplished thanks to her outfit. They were practically popping out already!

Everything was saved from disaster though, thanks to the quick thinking of the lovely Doctor. It would be a private pizza party! Food, booze, dancing, singing, stripping, who knows! It could all happen! She was surely to keep lively and skipped about happily, not minding Loc’s precision aim on her bouncing betties. Once they were all situated and had all the items in place, she clapped her hands together in excitement. “It’s party time everyone!” She went ahead and blew on a party confection, which made a silly buzzing sound. It would be wise to make the best out of this little party, or at least that’s what she felt she should do.

 

Moo:  Narcissa’s disappointment faded rather quickly…almost as soon as she had situated herself in the roadster, she had planted a permanent grin on her face. Her mood remained giddy while she listened to Loc and Roxanne having fun, her bodacious boobies keeping his eyes glued and smile big. With their finally getting back to Hell’s Kitchen, they had bought tons of pizza; all of which she would gladly eat if nobody else did. Narcissa was like a bottomless pit, and she wondered if Loc would be the same way. Completely excited upon exiting the car, she laughed at the good Doctor’s jokes and puns. Nodding her head while the two girls were told to carry items themselves, Narcissa gladly took as much as she could carry. The nurse’s statement about it being time to party granted the monster a laugh, squealing in excitement while they were all shuffled into the place. “I’m good at Twister and pizza!”

 

Razorbackwriter:  The Good Doctor held the door open for each of his crew to pass though in turn. Roxanne and Igor, and of course the creation Loc with the mountain of pizza along with the squealing Narcissa – who declared she was good at Twister and Pizza. That earned her a right cheeky smack on the backside as she was the last to enter the Laboratory. As the Doctor was about to go inside, he turned over the “OPEN” sign to “CLOSED DUE TO PIZZA PARTY” (aha) and then closed the door behind him. He strolled in and whipped off his top hat, tossing it without even looking and landing with a light spin on the hat rack. Talk about marksman like aim.

There was a long table in the recreation room, along with a fifties style juke box and a bar. Everything the crew needed to have themselves their own fancy ball. There would be dancing, there would be horror – if Igor tried to sing along. Oh the night was still young. The Doctor was still wearing his mask, and as soon as Narcissa set down her pizza boxes, he would slam his fist down on the top of the juke box, as a record swung over into place.

Music filled the room, along with the outdoor party lighting all bursting into colour. A disco ball dropped down from the ceiling and started to rotate – sending flashing lights all over the room. Wilhelm pulled on his tie and it loosened slightly, giving him a very roguish air. He may not have been a Prince of hell….but this man knew how to party.

“Let’s party like it’s 1969!….Babies!”

The Doctor reached for Narcissa’s hand and twirled her around the room.

Loc already had a mouth full of pizza and was leaning his head on Roxanne’s boobies…..The creation was in heaven. Igor was trying to lay out the twister mat, and every time that the Doctor and Narcissa swung past, he got knocked flat onto the mat.

Oh what a night!

 

 

~RB~