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Salvation Lost : Sins of Salvation -> The Town Square -> Lady in Red ( Rated R, Open to any )
Post Info TOPIC: Lady in Red ( Rated R, Open to any )
Harley Jones


Venomous Arsenal

Posts: 82
Date: May 14, 2009
Lady in Red ( Rated R, Open to any )
Permalink Closed

What was it with all the god damn fountains?. Could they not think of a better way to spend their money?. Like building a few more strip clubs? or better yet a place where you could go in and beat the bloody fuck out of someone. Harley was stretched out along her side laying on a stone ledge that wrapped it's self around a fountain. It had been some time since the little whore had last been home and she wondered how much trouble she would be in for vanishing the way she did. Perhaps it would earn her one hell of a beating?. The possibility caused Harley to shiver with anticipation and then it died when she thought back on why she had left. Her anger had gotten the best of her and for a moment there she had practically signed her own death warrant when the thought of killing a certain antichrist had crossed her mind. A roll of dark coals was given as the red head turned to lay along her back with her legs propped up and spread eagle. Hell if she cared who saw between her legs, fuck she had panties on or more like some thin strap that was suppose to be panties. The black miniskirt rose up a bit yet Harley didn't do anything to fix it instead she lowered her hands to tug on it a bit to the point where white ass cheeks became visible. Comfort  before dress code was another one of her mottos.
 
A red halter top covered the top half of her though instead of having the thing zipped up it was left open easily revealing the undersides of tiny breasts. As long as the nipples were covered it was enough cover up material for her and when one would look back down they could take notice of her corset piercing. It raked up both sides of the boa ending low with a bow tie. A set of red leather knee high boots went along nicely with the red shade of her halter top. All in all she was one hell of a slutty package and no one wore the title prouder then Harley herself. From her lips hung a cancer stick that was taken out every few seconds to blow out small teasing smoke circles. As the circle would form she would bring a hand up to trace a single digit through it. Tonight she would return home to see if she had missed anything of importance. However that wasn't the main reason for going back it was mostly because she needed and wanted to see her Queen. No messages had been forwarded to her cell phone so it seemed that either Shane and the others forgot about her or frankly didn't give a fuck. Shane was the most evil cunning strong as all hell bitch in the world and fuck!.. Was she hot as hell to watch in all her glorious cold power. Mmm.. The cigarette was lowered from her mouth to trace the unlit part across the valley in between her perky breasts.
 
Then down it went to trace the out line of the snake tattoo that played around her navel. A gasp sounded somewhere to her right so Harley cocked her head to display the smoldering blacks of her eyes onto the young male who apparently saw her and was now frozen in a stance. She grinned toward him as she lowered the cancer stick now tracing it over a inner thigh and then down it went as milky white legs parted more to trace over the entrance to her forbidden fruit. Other hand rose to curl a single digit, it curved and motioned for the young man to join her. He didn't waste much time and when he came to the fountain's edge she pointed for him to get into the water. He gave her a puzzled look until she brought the cig back up from in between her legs to lick the tip of it off with her mouth. He hopped in and with a turn she positioned herself toward him rising up to sit upon her derriere. Legs remained spread as she took a moment to take a hit from her cigarette. Then she pointed for him to get down and like a obedient little puppy he dropped to his knees. She then pointed between her legs and down he went allowing his head to be buried beneath the tight folds of her skirt.
 
A few moans would litter the area around them before Harley pushed him back. Her hand took a firm hold of his hair and up she pulled till he was on his feet. Sitting still on the edge she took to putting the cancer stick out on her tongue then with eager hands took to holding open his pants. A bend of her head to inspect the merchandise then with a groan of disappointment she moved to pull away and the man in a fit of frustration took to back handed Harley across the face. Yes she could have stopped it but she let him have his swing. Laughter dark and rich rang free from her mouth before she spoke.
 
" You hit like a little bitch, now let me show you how it's done "
 
Up in a blink of a eye she was and then it had all happened so fast she gave a open hand hit to his face literally bitch smacking him. He was human so no real strength was put behind it. It would not do to kill the weak mortals out here in the open where anyone could see. The hit still had it's affect and when the man went backwards in a stumble Harley swept him off of his feet and lifted him up. A few seconds later she exited from the fountain and behind her the man hung from his underwear in one of the biggest wedgies imaginable. He screamed and swung back and fourth his undies caught on one of the statue's raised arms..


-- Edited by Harley Jones on Thursday 14th of May 2009 11:16:25 AM

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Dexter


Psychotic Snake

Posts: 25
Date: May 15, 2009
Permalink Closed

 
 
Drip, drip, drip
 
From the ceiling a slow but steady leak had sprung, and made metallic pinging sounds against the basin that the dirty water fell into. They were like tears those little droplets that rained down from the twenty foot high ceilings of the industrial loft that was now Dexter's playroom. In the well of silence that committed the place to utter despair that sound seemed aching loud. The kind of sound that grated slowly on the nerves until madness steeped inside and blackened whatever thoughts were there. The kind of slow and easy thing that led to rot, mildew, infestation. The slow growth of porous living things that sucked the life from its surroundings.
 
But for the moment Dexter was too busy to worry over the disrepair that he had come back to find after leaving on a rather uneventful book signing. Once again his publisher had assured him that the graphic novels were selling even better than anticipated, and that his next copy was sure to break records. Of course the publisher assured him only over the phone. The man seemed oddly ill at ease when he had to meet with his client. Dexter seemed to have that effect on people.
 
Shwoosh, shwoosh, shwoosh
 
Flat smooth length of a blade was drawn against a thick leather strap making a whispering sound that mingled with the dripping of the water as it worked it's way into the rhythm of the open area. With hands as bony as a skeletons the blade was worked backwards and forwards in slow repitition against the leather strap. Sharpening and honing it's edge until the blade glistened like a wicked smile in the shallow dark of the room. Oh yes, it seemed to smile at him as it twinkled in the yellow industrial lights that were rigged atop the concrete columns that went from floor to ceiling. That yellow light turned everything a strangely surreal color, and made the blade wink up at him as it moved.
 
Dexter could feel excitement rising in him, could feel the tumescent cock between his legs hardening slightly at the winking of that blade. Like seeing a beautiful woman flirting with you, only to him this was far superior than any pleasure a woman could bring. His tools were silent and did his bidding. His tools were there for any purpose. His tools had mouths and arms and tongues but no eyes to watch and judge him with, no voice to scream or cry and echo in the perfection of his skull. Yes, his tools were perfection. And as he thought it he lifted the blade of the speculum up to the light.
 
Click, click, click
 
Bone thin fingers looked as pale as death where they clutched the spring triggered handle of the speculum and gently opened and closed the mechanism watching as the now sharpened edges of the device sprang open wide and then clamped closed once again. Looking oddly like steel cold and sharp duck lips. When he had bought them they had been simple and ordinary. The kind of thing found in any gynocology office, but now they were special. Now they were his. And he had a job for his little friends to do. Something he had been looking forward to for a long time. Turning towards the metal tray where his other supplies were he carefully laid the tool down beside it's friends and looked at the glistening display in front of him with pride.
 
Everything was silent. Everything was still. And it felt good to let everything sink away beneath the cold weight of his promise. The promise of a Queen that he would have peace to seek out his newest angel if only he helped her first. For anyone else he would never have put it off. Would never have made his darling angel wait for his attentions. But for Shane, his Queen, his Goddess, and only for her would he hold off his plans for the little one who awaited him.
 
But she was so sweet and innocent, his latest little angel, and she would understand and wait for the honor he was to bestow upon her. With a mournful sigh he turned from the tools on their tray, covering them first with a near see through white cloth, and moved towards the door to go do as his Queen commanded. From beside the door he gripped the cold silver fist that was the handle of his black walking cane. The silver burned at the flesh of his long narrow palm as he held it, but the pain kept his mind clear. Kept the shadows from lurching in and tearing him from the face of reality as he had to face it.
 
So it was the Dexter Dom went in search of Harley Jones, on an errand from the Kadra. When he caught up with her she was walking away from a fountain where a man was dangling from a statue. At seven feet tall he could easily see past her, over her head, and to the dangling man. Dexter watched the man swinging there for a quiet moment as if time passed at a different rate for him. The tricks Harley played were no for him. She was not a suitable play thing for Dexter. Neither was she a suitable partner. So he ignored the games she played and settled his disturbing eyes on her.
 
One eye was white as chalk and blended with the white of his eye so perfectly that the only color was the small black of his pupil. And the other eye was entirely black. Most of his fans assumed the eyes were part of his persona as Dexter Dom the graphic novelist and extreme comic creator, like the clothes and the makeup. No one but the nest knew that the eyes were real, like the long slender forked tongue that even then fluttered at the air like it was reaching for the taste of the dangling mans fear.
 
"The Queen."
 
Two words issued in a voice so soft and childlike that it seemed frighteningly at odds with the man the voice came from. Dexter wasn't much of a talker. Nor did Dexter like people who did a lot of talking. Unless it was his Kadra. His two word monologue was meant to answer the question of who had sent him or why he was there. Two words were all he would give before walking towards his car expecting Harley to come along with him. The Queen had been busy with Nori. Nori had been going through some changes. So it was that Dexter was sent to bring Harley home.
 
As they walked it would be good for Harley not to forget who he was. To keep her hands away. To keep space between them. To learn to speak softer than her usual brash tones. Dexter held firm to the small amount of sanity he had for the moment, but such things could tip the balance. Especially the touching. The warmth and sweat and noise. All things Harley was so much a part of. Just walking beside her made him inwardly cringe and the thought of what she'd been doing before he arrived. What Dexter did was art. But the smutty slutty stuff that Harley did made his stomach queasy. Queasy enough that he would rather kill her than let her touch him. Which meant he would have to touch her. For Dexter it was a puzzle, but one that kept him busy on the walk to the car.



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Harley Jones


Venomous Arsenal

Posts: 82
Date: May 18, 2009
Permalink Closed

That pure satisfaction that came from hanging the man by his undies came to a sudden halt the moment she saw Dexter. Of course she had already sensed him near but had thought it was just her wishful thinking again. Surely the twisted mental case would have better things to do with his time besides standing there watching her. Like cutting up and mismatching small helpless virgins?.. Yeah whatever got his rocks off, damn at times like this Harley wished she was a innocent so that she could feel those devilishly twisted hands on her white skin wrecking havoc.. Then again.... Dexter was some pretty fucking scarey ass shit. So perhaps she would redirect that thought. Dexter was the type that one could look at but not touch and for damn good reason. Touching the snake was liking daring the devil to fuck you head over heels, you didn't want that shit unless you were stupid and Harley though a slut was far from that kinda stupid.
 
Perhaps he was here to kill her?. nah if that was the case he'd have to dirty his pretty little hands by touching her and that was something she knew he despised and Harley knew how much she disgusted him. Then those lips of his parted and the icey words" The Queen " slipped from his decaying yet oddly enough sexy lips. A shiver  over took the boa and Harley had to question wether or not it was fear or hungry anticipation?. Fuck perhaps a little of both, a nod was the only answer she'd give him before silent foot steps had her walking side by side beside the Viper. Space was kept for Harley didn't wish to push any of Dexter's buttons.
 
Her wrists in which she had attacked were healed now of course and the man's hand print to her white cheek was fading just as quickly as it had begun. The only scar that was plainly visible now was the line above her belly button where one had tried to stab the boa with a silver blade. It had nearly been her undoing but luckily she had been quicker then the eye and had evaded the full effect in which it would have had. Harley didn't try for conversation with Dexter for it would no doubt be useless since the Viper would rather her not be in his presence. However she could not help the two words that slipped forward when she came to the passenger door of his car. Voice was not her normal annoying harsh tone. It was remarkably soft and low to the point where if one was not a lycan they would have to strain to hear it.
 
" Nice ride "..


-- Edited by Harley Jones on Monday 18th of May 2009 02:52:50 PM

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