0 comments/ 10058 views/ 1 favorites Azalea Ch. 01 By: Saphrina Trying something a little different here. All characters are entirely fictional and any likeness or similarities to any persons are purely coincidental. Thanks for dropping by. -- "You whore!" Buckley wheezed, kneeling as his broad frame doubled over with his large hands trapped between his legs. Azalea probably would've laughed if she could focus. Fog surrounded her; somehow, her mind wasn't connecting to her body. Every movement was effortless, yet, slow and weighted. She kept forgetting... James swallowed very slowly. There was something incredibly wrong with this scene as her surveyed the woman in center of the dirty cell. Her wavy ebony hair resembled a bird's nest, littered with bits of hay; her light skin bore cuts, blackening bruises and scrapes. Whatever it was she was wearing previously, now barely covered her high breasts and her sex. Any exposed skin that hadn't been damaged in some way was smeared with dirt. The woman turned her head slowly and looked him in the eye. It was unnerving, but, he couldn't show weakness, no matter how much he wanted to turn away. Instead, James adjusted his focus past her to wall but stopped short when her head suddenly snapped back. Oh heavens above... I think Buckley just broke her neck. Buckley grinned menacingly as he slowly stalked towards the woman. Pulling his right arm back he punched the woman in the face, feeling a crack of satisfaction as her left eye socket broke under the force of his calloused fist. Her head snapped back and stopped. "Stinkin' whore." he spat, bringing his shoulders up and cracking his thick neck. He didn't even see her move before, how was it that she'd managed to land one in the cojones? The woman stayed motionless. Buckley's eyes narrowed. How long have I been here? Is this hell? No this isn't hell, I've already been there. The thoughts were forming slowly in her mind, then they stopped. Pain... sharp pain... I've got to get back. Get back to where? I've got to get back or I'll never see the sky Azure... "Leave her. She's gone for the moment." Buckley and James whirled around. "Come back tomorrow." the rasping voice commanded. "I must have the key." -- Azalea fell to her knees, gritting and grinding her teeth. Her eye socket was healing itself; the pain causing waves of heat to pulse through her. She scratched her nails against the concrete floor in an effort not to cry out. In moments her entire body was coated in perspiration, her breath panting against the silence. As the pain subsided, Azalea eased herself to ground and lay on her side. For several minutes her mind was blank. What happened? Slowly she recalled the big golden haired man. Buckley. Buckley and his enormously angry phallus. Something happened when he tried to penetrate her. Azalea wished she her mind hadn't been so clouded. Then he punished her. She felt the tendrils of anger rise up from her gut. He was the one who had broken her eye socket. There was someone else. The young ginger haired man. Azalea didn't know what his name was. Wait... there was one more person. Something he wanted... a... key? "A key?" Azalea whispered into the dark. This is ridiculous. There was no key. False legends embellished by Chinese Whispers. For centuries she'd been pursued for different reasons, but 'The Key' was at the top of the list. She rolled onto her back and sighed. The unmistakable metallic smell filled her nostrils. She knew it was her own blood. Azalea shook her head slowly. The things people would do for the promise of unlimited power. It wasn't a legend, it was a curse. -- So it was true. No one could have sex with her. Carnus sat at his mahogany desk and stared absent mindedly, rolling the whisky around his tumbler. Buckley was an idiot, thinking with anything but his brain. A normal woman would have been dead by now. Carnus knew that she was resilient, abnormally so. He'd never seen it with his own eyes, but he'd been waiting a very long time for this. She'd never even touched Buckley when he tried shove his large cock into her. Carnus almost chuckled when Buckley shot across the cell and slammed into the corner clutching his balls. Better Buckley than himself. Still, it was a shame. Azalea was a beautiful woman, waist length hair, a lithe body with pert breasts and those long, long, long slender legs. Even though he knew she wouldn't, Carnus could envisage her begging on her knees; stark fear in her indigo eyes. Yes, perhaps he would find a way to make her beg, make her promise to do anything, and perhaps she would. Thrill coursed through Carnus, his thick member straining against his pants as he imagined her fearful acquiescence. Releasing his cock, his long fingers stroked his length as he saw himself grabbing a fistful of her black hair and forcing himself into her mouth. "Suck it." he would command, and she would, her full lips working around his cock. She would take him, but, he would feel her resistance, and so he would simply be forced to grab another fistful of hair with his other hand and fuck her mouth. He wouldn't be gentle, no, not Carnus, he would brutalise those beautiful lips, make her take him all the way into the back of her throat. She wouldn't be prepared for his length, she would choke, her gag reflex kicking in when hit the back of her throat. He would pull out just enough for her to control it as he shoved his cock back in her mouth. She would struggle, breathing heavily through her nose, tears streaming from her eyes. What beautiful sight, Carnus thought as he pumped his cock inside tight fist. He could hear her laboured breathing and her choking cries; it was music to his ears. Azalea Ch. 02 Please forgive a little sloppiness, I have a very bad tendency to over-edit, which I'm trying not to do. (I think the trick is to find the balance, but while I'm working on that – some areas might fall a bit short :o!) All characters are entirely fictional and any likeness or similarities to any persons are purely coincidental. Thanks for dropping by. (On a side note: the characters seem to be taking a bit of a Non Consensual/Reluctance turn. Just an advance warning as it's not to everyone's taste; there are many talented authors on Lit that I suggest your peruse if this doesn't appeal to you. This story is being listed under Novels/Novellas and the short description may not be explanatory enough.) -- Azalea slowly opened her eyes, not that there was much to see in the darkness. Her body felt as though she'd been used as a punching bag. Closing her eyes, she lay motionless. It was difficult to think clearly, to remember when her energy was so low. The sloppy gruel they'd been feeding her was barely enough, but that's what they wanted her to be; weak and desperate. She didn't want to eat the food – if you could call it that, she wanted to defy them, not be dependant on them; but, while she was proud, she wasn't senseless. Time, Azalea thought. There was no concept of time down here. No ticking second hand, no dripping water, nothing. She used to be able to sense the changes in the air, identify what part of the day it was, without having to look outside. Now that sense eluded her. How long would it be before the others deserted her? Her eyes snapped open at the short stab of panic in her chest. There would be only so much she could take, then... she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Don't start thinking like that, or you'll be defeated before you begin. Azalea rolled onto her side, pushed herself to her knees and slowly stood up. Tentatively she stepped, making her towards the wall of the cell. -- Buckley roared with laughter as he slapped his stein down, the golden ale splashing up and out of the mug onto the wooden table. The Ox tavern was bursting at the seams, bustling with beer guzzling patrons, dancing and clambering over chairs; the atmosphere heightened by the quick fingered fiddler and echoes of The Devil went down to Georgia. James shrunk further into the corner, nursing his beer. He was finding it difficult to garner any enjoyment as images of woman's head snapping back kept replaying in his mind. He look sideways at Buckley; the man was a Neanderthal. James grimaced as as the buxom Marguerite returned to their table. "Come here woman!" Buckley's arm snaked out and grabbed the shrieking redhead, pulling her rounded bottom onto his lap. She made a half-hearted wriggle to escape his grasp. Buckley's grin deepened as his cock swelled against her the generous curve of her arse. "Just keep doing that." Buckley said against her ear, and for a moment Marguerite stilled, before wriggling once again. Slowly her wriggle became a languid gyrating movement against Buckley's cock. Reaching around her, he grabbed her breast and squeezed hard and then he grabbed her firmly around the waist. His other hand found it's way under her dress, his fingers trailing up her leg. "Buckley!" Marguerite hissed grabbing his arm and trying to get off his lap, but he wouldn't budge. Before she could stop him, his fingers found her inner thigh and brushed against her thick lips. "Buckley!" she squealed trying once again to get off his lap, but the more she moved the more contact her pussy made with his fingers. She pursed her lips and continue her struggle, trying to ignore his fingers, but it was no use and embarrassingly the friction was making her pussy wet. "Just what I like, wet cunt." he growled and for a moment Marguerite's cheeks were aflame, the colour matching her fiery hair. Buckley plunged two fingers into her wet pussy and Marguerite's head came back against his shoulder. Suddenly she found herself on her feet, Buckley yanking her towards the stairs. "Come on woman!" he commanded pushing through the boisterous crowd, Marguerite struggling to keep up with his long stride. Before Marguerite knew it she thrown on the bed in the one of the tavern's empty rooms lodging rooms, her dress and petticoats flying up around her waist, exposing her generous pussy as she landed. In an instant, Buckley was on top of her, his large hand pushing her heavy breasts from the top of her dress, groping and kneading them roughly. The tip of his large cock, pressed against the wet lips of her cunt. Grabbing the top of her shoulder Buckley thrust, ungraciously slamming up into her. Marguerite grunted, her arched brows drawing together at the force of Buckley's cock. Gathering momentum, Buckley fucked with deliberate strokes while Marguerite pushed her hips against him. She could feel his wet balls slapping against her crack while pleasure rippled in her belly. Marguerite closed her eyes and groaned. Too bad... Buckley would be a nice catch... It was hard not to be impressed by his stature amongst other things. Marguerite stifled a chuckled as she felt the bounce of her breasts. She reached up and pinched her nipples, groaning once again. He was boyishly handsome, with his thick mop of golden hair, and moss-coloured eyes, and, she couldn't deny she liked a good hard fucking, but there was something... Marguerite opened her eyes and looked at Buckley's face expecting his narcissistic smile, her respondent grin dying on her lips. Buckley wasn't smiling, he was sneering, perspire shining on his forehead, his green eyes dark, focussed and narrow. He was staring at Marguerite's face but he wasn't seeing her. Marguerite's skin prickled and she stopped meeting his thrusts. Something was wrong... "Buckley?" A touch of fear lowered her voice to a whisper. Nothing. Marguerite tried again. "Buckley?" This time her voice was louder, as she tried to suppress her alarm. Buckley's only response was to thrust brutally between her legs. Marguerite dug her heels into the bed and tried to move away from him coming to halt when she found his hands around her, his thumbs pressing on her windpipe. Panic ripped through her as she tried to claw at his arms. "Buckley!" the scream was caught in her throat as he increased the pressure around her neck. Stinkin' whore, I'll teach you. Buckley hadn't stopped thinking about the raven haired woman since he'd left Carnus' place. He wanted to fuck her till she screamed, until she begged for mercy and after that he'd fuck her in the arse and make her scream some more. No whore got away with trying to stop Buckley from getting what he wanted. He looked down and saw her – her raven hair spread out on the bed. She tweaked her nipples then looked up at him and smiled, mocking him, silently laughing at him. Rage filled Buckley's mind. Laughing at me? I'll wipe that smile off your face. He put his hands around her necked and pushed his thumbs down and watched with pleasure as her face blanched in terror, her indigo eyes paling. She tried to stop him, her hands scratching at his arms. He squeezed his hands a little bit more as he felt her try to scream, the pulse of her throat going straight to his cock. It was all that he needed, his head tipping back, roaring as he came. Sweat, slid down Buckley's temples as he panted. Looking down, his eyes widened as he saw Marguerite trembling under him, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, tears streaming down her face. He let go of her throat, purplish bruises already forming where his hands had been. Buckley smiled wryly. He was almost disappointed it wasn't the raven haired whore, even if he did usually enjoy fucking Marguerite. Shrugging he tucked himself away with thoughts of beer and left to rejoin the cacophony downstairs. Marguerite's gray eyes flashed open, filled with hatred when she heard the door close. "Fucking bastard." Anger slid over her body like a second skin. Just you wait... -- Sounds like a recipe for revenge! It's almost journalistic story telling, I don't have a definitive path for any of the characters so each chapter is as it comes. Thanks again for dropping by. Azalea Ch. 03 I apologise for some of the errors in the previous submission – sometimes it hard to edit when you know what's coming next. I was hoping to get out at least a chapter a week but you know, Murphy's Law. (It's also going a little slow for my liking.) All characters are entirely fictional and any likeness or similarities to any persons are purely coincidental. Thanks for dropping by. -- Azalea counted fifteen paces each side of the cell. Three sides were walled by metal bars. She quietly tugged at every one trying to find a weakness, pushing down the gnaw of despair as all the bars held steadfast. The small rush of adrenalin had cleared her mind as she'd tried to recall as much detail as she could. It was hard. Azalea had been drifting in and out for hours, or, days? She couldn't be certain. One thing she did know is that before this she had hailed a taxi after Friday evening drinks with friends. Next thing she knew, she was being woken by Buckley in this dirty cell. At first it had started gently, coaxing, convincing if she just gave them what they wanted, they'd let her go. Then it turned to shaking, pushing, shoving, even throwing her to the ground. She couldn't give them anything because at first she didn't even know what they'd wanted. So far removed from her current life, she was too shocked to respond with anything but a blank look. Azalea gently rubbed her arms. She could feel the texture of the dirt and scabbing scratches under her finger tips. She ran her hands down her sides and over her hips. There wasn't much left of her white shirt, the material had been torn away just under her breasts all the way around her back, like some sort of makeshift midriff top, and her black pencil skirt? Well, there wasn't much left of that either. Oddly enough it wasn't cold, she couldn't feel any draft or heating; perhaps she was still in shock. What am I going to do? Her options were limited. She was no match for Buckley's brute force. If she could get past him, what about the other young man? Whatever energy she might be able to muster up would be short lived. Azalea sank to the floor. There must be something I'm missing... -- Carnus ran his long fingers through his dark unkempt hair as he leant against the window looking out. What to do next? He was loathe to admit his options were becoming less and less. He turned and looked over the large dark study, his mahogany desk, the entire room littered with books, piles of books, open on the desk and spread out on the floor. He suddenly had a violent urge to set it all on fire. Despite the fact that he had Azalea where he wanted, he'd almost run the full gamut and achieved naught. He couldn't force Azalea to give him what he wanted and he was running out of time. Azalea was in need of real persuasion, something she couldn't say no to. A flagitious gleam sparkled in his sapphire eyes. And I know just the thing... -- The heavy rolling bass reverberated through the room as the sea of gyrating bodies pulsed in time with sound. Sabrina stood at long marble bar, punctuating each beat with the flick of her hips, her short black mini flipping dangerously higher up her creamy thighs with each movement. Tipping her blonde head back she downed the rest of her Smirnoff Black and put the empty bottle on the bartop. "Would you like another one?" a low voice cut through the music, close to her ear. Sabrina turned and found that she had to look up. She smiled admiringly as her eyes travelled up his black shirt, usually she could almost see eye to eye with six foot men with her mid-platform Pleasers. Her light hazel eyes trailed up his sharp jawline, over a full bottom lip and finally rested on his dark eyes. He cocked his head slightly and raised one eyebrow, somewhat amused. Mmmm, yes I do like what I see. She flashed him a sly grin and closed the space between them, her full breasts making the slightest contact his chest. "Yes, I'd love another one." As he turned to the bar, Sabrina looked over the dark the room. The green and pink laser lights painted random patterns over the crowd. Friday nights... she mused as the beat slowly commanded her hips again. There was nothing like getting your rocks off after a hard week at work. She turned slowly back to the bar, rolling her hips sensuously. She could feel dark haired man studying her as she half closed her eyes. Sabrina suppressed a smile, shamelessly flirting with her body. She felt her skin prickle as if he was actually stroking her skin. This is going to be so much fun! The music took a turn upbeat, and Sabrina took the cue to have a break. Coming back to the bar she took a several gulps from the bottle, well aware of the few drops that escaped the side of her mouth slowly travelling over her jaw, down her neck and to sliding between her breasts. She turned back to the man, feigning slight clumsiness, and put her index finger between her breasts, reversing back up the trail of the escaped droplets and slowly sucking her finger. Sabrina looked innocently into his eyes. He looked right back, seemingly unaffected. Hmmm, okay... She leaned forward, her lips brushing his ear gently. "Thanks for the drink." She lifted the bottle and tilted the neck towards him. He leaned forward, his hot breath rolling over her neck under her lobe. "You're welcome." She steeled herself from shuddering, her skin prickling harder than before, and a slight throb began in her pussy. Well, this was interesting. It had been a little while, but she usually didn't react this way – so soon. Sabrina shrugged slightly – it could be anything. The alcohol, the fact that he was tall and... she looked up at him and smiled. Yes, tall and darkly mysterious. She flashed him a big smile and he gave her a small one back. "Dance?" He cocked his head slightly and started to rock slowly, languidly to the beat as if he was in no hurry at all. Sabrina's body mirrored his movements. Usually asking men to dance was an invitation for them to put their hands on her, only, he made no movement at all. She masked her slight frustration, yet at the same time she knew she was turned on. She made no apologies – she knew she was a walking advertisement for sex when she wore such a slip of skirt, showing off her long shapely legs thanks to years of Calisthenics. Still swaying side to side she felt the slick moisture on her inner thigh. Woah girl! She grinned to herself. "Enjoying yourself?" Sabrina looked up again, his dark eyes drawing her in. She just nodded, closing her eyes and continuing to sway. She inhaled deeply and smelt her own scent and perfume, the sickly sweet smell of alcohol served and spilt at the bar and masculine spice, dark, earthy – she knew it had to be him. The breath seemed to make her light-headed. If they finally got out of this place what would she do? Would she wait patiently until they got somewhere and undress him, undoing the buttons on his shirt slowly, her manicured fingers sliding over his flesh and down to his pants... Or would they get into his car, which no doubt would be darkly coloured as well and tinted windows. Would they fall on each other, tongues duelling, hands exploring... The foreplay was already in progress – Sabrina would need no prompting, the flash of images behind her eyelids only serving to excite her further. Again she put her drink down on the bar, and closing the gap between them, leant into the stranger, putting her arms around his neck and kissed him, softly, slowly. He responded by holding her kiss, not pulling away but not responding into her kiss either. Sabrina pressed harder against him, opening her mouth slightly as he mirrored her and did the same. As she moved to stroke his tongue with hers, he beat her to it, stroking her tongue ever so slightly with the tip of his own. Shivers tickled her thigh, racing up along her body, the slightest of groans escaping her mouth into his. As if that wasn't enough exquisite torture, she felt him trace an invisible line up her thigh, a feather touch that almost made her buckle at the knees. It was such a contrast; kissing someone at a nightclub was rarely a tantalising game. It was usually drunken, hot and horny – hands everywhere, and kissing a bit of hit and miss and most definitely inelegant. The stranger's touch whispered of temptations that shattered inhibitions, awakening a hunger that she somehow couldn't recall... Disengaging herself she grabbed him by the hand weaving through the sea of bodies, the permeating sweat pushing her excitement higher. The cool evening air slid over them outside. Sabrina stopped and turned to look at him, as he turned headed toward carpark behind the club. He slowed for a moment and she took it as her sign to follow him, not that it was hard, smiling as she made the outline of his seemingly firm buns in his dark slacks. He stopped at a dark coupe, a sporty looking thing with large wheels. It wasn't until she walked pas the front of the two door than she saw the Jaguar emblem on grill. Not bad... Not that she really cared about cars; well she never used to... Sabrina's thoughts vapourised as she was spun around with her back pressed up against the driver's side door, her wrists were held tight against her sides and the stranger's mouth was on her, his body pressing into her. Well that's more like it! She opened her mouth and his tongue darted inside as he rolled his hips against her. Sabrina couldn't mistake his hard cock pressing against her skirt as she groaned into his mouth. She slid her Pleasers along the ground trying not to make too much noise as she tried to wrap one leg around his. Sensing her movement the stranger let go of her wrists and grabbing her arse he lifted her up slightly, pressing his sheathed cock against wet pussy and putting pressure on her clit. Sabrina responding by grinding back against his cock. It was sensory overload in the cool evening air, inside her body was a molten lava waterfall while outside her body shivered and prickled as if she were standing in a snowfield. Anymore pleasure and she just might not be responsible for her actions – what do they call it? Temporary insanity?, her mind switching to autopilot as her body took over. "Sabrina!" Mmm... "Sabrina!" Huh?... "SABRINA!" What?! The stranger had stopped kissing her and was eyeing someone. Sabrina blinked a couple of times and turned to see who it was although she already knew who it was, hoping she was just imagining. The stranger was still holding Sabrina up against his couple, her long legs wrap wrapped around his waist. Cassandra stood with her hands on her hips, her loose mass of light auburn hair moving as she shook her head. She folded her arms, then unfolded them putting her hand backs where her low riding black pants met her hips, then folded them again, clearly agitated. Sabrina's shoulders dropped slightly. Damnit. She looked up at the stranger and gave him a wry smile. He let Sabrina down very slowly and took a step back. "Were you going to let me know?!" Sabrina's head back dropped as she let out a loud sigh. "Awww c'mon Cass. I wasn't really going anywhere. See, I'm still here." "Aha." Cass' light blue eyes narrowed as she looked at the stranger, clearly unimpressed. Sighing again, Sabrina looked at the stranger. The street light cast on only half his face, illuminating his skin, making it appear even paler, while the other half immersed in darkness. She could just make out his dark eye shining in the darkness. For a flash he appeared somewhat sinister, and, as if he'd heard her, he turned his face into the light and winked at her. With his face fully lit all Sabrina could see was the hot stranger with lips make for kissing her all over and the strong tall body that pressed her up against the car. She hadn't even gotten a look beneath. She pouted. "Take a rain check?" "I'm only in town tonight." Argh! That'd be bloody right. She looked at Cass who suddenly looked concerned, almost fearful, looking back at the stranger, she couldn't see why. Then again Cass wasn't really into dark and mysterious and was naturally cynical. She like nice boys, unfortunately she struggled to attract them. That's what you got for having for big auburn hair, light blue eyes, high cheek bones, full lips and light flawless skin. Her cynicism gave her an air of the unattainable, scaring off the nice boys and encouraging the bad ones. Of course modelling occasionally didn't help -especially when you've had your face plastered on massive billboards. Sabrina was no slouch herself, but since suffering the tortures of a beauty pageant obsessed mother when she was younger she long distanced herself from anything to do with that industry. Sabrina almost wanted to offer Cass a hundred bucks to take the girls home, but that would not go down well. Gyah! "That's a shame." Sabrina grabbed Cass' elbow and swung her around forcefully pulling her back towards the club. She didn't dare turn around – the temptation was too strong and the stranger had definitely left an impression. Sabrina barely heard Cass as they walked back, reminiscing about his body between her legs, and the feeling that she'd probably never see him again. His jaw tightened, his mouth setting into a grim line as he watched the back of the two women as they walked away. "Sabrina, I can't believe you did that. We had a deal! All of us girls had a deal!" "Aww lay off Cass it was nothing. He was harmless, just a bit of fun. We're both adults, up for a good time – that's all." "I don't care and I don't like him." "That's stupid, you don't even know him." "Well do you?" "Hey that's unfair, I didn't claim to know him." "We promised to stick together. It's important... since Azalea..." Their voices trailed off as they walked around the corner. He unlocked his his car and got into the drivers seat, clenching his fist, he slammed it on the dash. Taking out his mobile he dialed. "The person you have called is unavailable, please leave a message after the tone." "Buckley, it's Carnus. I am going to be away for a couple of days..." -- A little bit longer than usual. That Carnus is a nasty piece of work! Well he's supposed to be... Azalea Ch. 04 I know it's been awhile. I do intend to finish this story, but I still have a way to go. If you're reading this and haven't read the other chapters the characters might be a bit hard to follow so you might want to start at the beginning. That being said some characters that seem to be taking a bit of a Non Consensual/Reluctance turn, although there is none of it in this chapter. There are many talented authors on Lit that I suggest you peruse if this doesn't appeal to you. This story is being listed under Novels/Novellas and the short description may not be explanatory enough.) All characters are entirely fictional and any likeness or similarities to any persons are purely coincidental. Thanks for dropping by. -- "Marguerite, love, are you okay?" Rosaline stopped turning down the bed and looked at her friend, her delicate features marred by the concern on her face. Tucking a strand of wavy golden hair behind her ear, she smoothed her royal blue dress down her thighs a couple of times before approaching Marguerite. The redhead had all but stopped changing the pillowcase, holding the pillow and staring off into the distance. "Marguerite..." her whisper cut off by the creaking floorboard under her foot. Damn. Rosaline looked down and then back up at Marguerite, who had turned at the noise. "Are you okay love?" Rosaline continued towards her. Marguerite shook and her slapped the pillow between her hands. "Rosaline, I'm fine, what are you doing creeping about the room?" Rosaline stopped and put her hands on the footboard. "Are you sure you're okay? You been awfully quiet these last few days. You know you can tell me if something is bothering you?" Rosaline's large brown eyes were filled with worry. Ah, sweet Rosaline. Marguerite almost wanted to reach out to her, but she didn't want her pity or her sympathy -- it would only make things harder for her. Marguerite took a deep silent breath and forced herself to smile cheerfully. "Rosaline, it's nothing -- I promise. Sometimes I just think of home and my poor departed mother and father, bless their souls." Marguerite put the pillow on the bed, giving it a couple more shakes and smoothing over the material. "Oh, yes, it's a been awhile since I thought of home." Rosaline was wistful. "Then again," She smiled brightly. "Jeremy hasn't left much room in my head!" She giggled and Marguerite laughed alongside her. It was easier this way. It had been a couple of days since she'd see Buckley, and time was passing slowly. The more time between her the and the incident, the better she would feel. She touched her neck gingerly. Lucky for her abundance of red hair, otherwise she'd have raised quite a few eyebrows, not to mentioned questions about the angry purple bruising. Also, it wasn't good for business. Her eyes narrowed, Buckley would have more than just bruises to contend with. With that thought in mind she renewed her assault on the other pillow, punching into shape before settling it back on the bed. -- Azalea awoke to footsteps on the stone stairs leading down to her prison. Recognising the voices, her body slumped further. She didn't have the energy to move off the floor, let alone fight again with Buckley. Considering what he'd done last time, he probably would bludgeon her to death given the chance. "Carnus called. He's not going to be back for a couple of days." Buckley walked down the stone steps leading down to the cellar with James following awkwardly behind while he tried not to spill the contents of the shallow bowl. Buckley stood a full head and shoulders above James who suddenly wished he could dump the contents on Buckley's head. "Why is that?" Buckley shrugged as he absently-mindedly dug at his ear with his little finger. "Don't know." Ugh. He really is a Neanderthal. James gripped the bowl to stop himself from shivering. "What do we do now?" "Nothing. Just make sure the whore is fed." Buckley surveyed his little finger. James suppressed an involuntary gag. When they reached the cell, Buckley hunched over to unlock cell door, dropping the keys as he fumbled with them. Idiot. As Buckley bent down to pick up the keys, Azalea came into view and wave a shame washed over James. He knew it was wrong, looking at the ragged woman sitting quietly in the cell. There something very surreal about the whole situation. The woman was not normal. James had known some strong women in his life, but in a situation like this, most people would have cried, begged or even pleaded for their lives by now. Lord knows he would have begged by now -- but not this woman. Azalea looked at him and and he forced himself not to look away as her indigo eyes observed him. With the clang of the keys opening up the cell, he averted his eyes to watch that he didn't spill her food. "Bitch, your food is here." Buckley spoke with an air of indifference. He didn't even bother stepping inside the cell, instead leaning against the open door leaving James to go in alone. James carefully handed the bowl to Azalea almost flinching as she thanked him. Her words almost inaudible, even in the silence. Quickly he turned on his heel and left Buckley to lock the cell. The shame was now becoming a tidal wave, threatening to drown him in it. -- Azalea waited until Buckley had left to start eating, her mind ticking over. If she had heard correctly, Carnus was going to be away for a few days and James, James, James... The poor young conflicted man. He had no idea what he was doing in the this situation. Although he tried, he couldn't hide his reluctance, or regret for that matter. She could probably coax him into helping her in some way, but if all she had a was a couple of days -- it was not enough time. Carnus' patience would have worn thin enough by the time he returned. There was no doubt about that, and that left Buckley. Azalea fell asleep to the visions of her thoughts. -- Her right hazel eye flickered under the light morning light. The smell of bacon and eggs invaded her nostrils and she wrinkled her nose as she tried to open both eyes. She moved her head to the side. "OW! HANGOVER!" The sharp pain stopped her instantly. "C'mon sleepy head!" Cassandra's cheery voice called out from the kitchen. Sabrina groaned. This was not good. How much did I drink last night? Ugh. "C'mon, you'll feel much better after you get up and have something to eat. Good Lord girl, I really thought that your wild days were almost over. Boy was I wrong!" "Errr." was about all Sabrina could manage as she tried to sit up on the couch. She sat with her head in her hand a looked down in disbelief. "You mean I've still got last night's clothes on?" Sabrina groaned some more. Cass walked out of the kitchen. "Ah girl, ye-es! You are a rock when you pass out! I was not going to try peeling off your clothes at 4am in the morning, even if there's not that much to peel off!" Sabrina threw a cushion at Cassandra who squealed and warded her off with a bright green spatula. Flopping down again on the couch and resting her arm on her forehead she thought back to the night before. Oh yeah, that's right, Friday nights. Sabrina smiled as snippets of memories flashed through her mind. Hot, sweaty and grinding. Hmmm. And that man. That man! Her nipples hardened as she shivered involuntarily. In an instant she was back up against his coupe in the parking lot, inhaling him as his lips traced an invisible trail down her neck. Sabrina groaned. "Are you okay?" Cassandra's head popped up from behind the counter. "What? Ah, yeah... I'm think I'm a bit hung -- don't worry. I probably just need some water." "Okayee." Yeah right. Sabrina was going to need more than just some water -- she was going to need an ice cold shower. Slowly she got up off the couch. "I'm just going to use the shower." Cassandra waved her off towards the bathroom door. Once inside, Sabrina dropped her skirt, and g-string to the floor in one fluid movement. She kicked them away from the door as she peeled off her black shirt and unhooked her bra, dropping them both in the small pile. The water was a welcome feeling as the spray washed over her neck. Sabrina forcefully massaged her neck as her stiff muscles relaxed under the heat. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this hungover. Thankfully it wasn't as bad as some of the ones she'd had in the past. Rocking slowly under the shower her thoughts drifted again back to the night before and the dark stranger. Thinking about it now, it probably wasn't the smartest idea to be so eager to leave the club without telling anyone. Azalea had been missing for eight days. It was such a helpless predicament. Several years ago Azalea had said that if she ever went missing that they were not to alert the authorities, and reluctantly they'd all agreed. Once or twice, they'd tried to get Azalea to tell them why, but it was no use. Other than her being currently missing -- nothing ever seemed out of the ordinary. They all concocted their own theories as to why, but nothing had occurred to support them and eventually they forgot their concerns... until now. Sabrina sighed. Still... Once again Sabrina was transported back to the parking lot with the feel of the stranger's body against hers, and his undeniable erection pressing against her pussy. The heat throbbed double time between her legs as her nipples prickled tightly with a vengeance. Her hands strayed to her lips, squeezing and kneading them between her two fingers as her fingers worked against her clit. Sabrina was instantly slick. She imagined that they couldn't wait, and she heard the unzipping of his pants and felt the movement of her g-string to one side. The thick head of his cock barely nudged her lips for second before unceremoniously plunging into her. Sabrina's breath hitched and her head dropped back banging it against the cool tiles. She imagined that he would grip her tightly to the point of bruising her, but she didn't care. She knew he would fuck her hard and repeatedly without any indication of slowing down. The visions and craving were causing her palpitating pants to echo in the bathroom. Her breasts squeezed tightly between her tensed arms as she plunged two fingers into her pussy. She locked her hand in a vice-like grip between her legs, fucking herself frantically, as she rubbed her clit. Sabrina was walking a fine line of tipping over the precipice, yet somehow not quite being able to let go. Thrusting her fingers even harder, her legs tensed as she whimpered, not knowing how long she would be able to keep it up. Without warning the first wave came up like hard slap, completely taking her breath away and her legs shook so violently she had grab the top of the shower screen. Sabrina pumped her fingers in hard a couple more times as the second and third waves washed back over like reverberating echoes. Sabrina panted in disbelief. She couldn't recall ever coming so intensely. She dropped to her knees, as her breathing subsided and she was left with the echo of the shower. -- Yes, I know there's a lot going on. It should iron itself out soon.