You Pay to Stay

Vivien pic

I know I'm new, but...
http://russianwomentruth.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/russian-women-jenya-engineer2_r.jpg

Vivien Sokolof. 18. from Philidelphia.

Dan about Tension

You cold cut the tension with a knife. And ... someone was probably wanting to, as well.

There was a rumor going around that MaryAnne had reported knives missing from Noodles.

The meals the self-appointed Chef was creating were becoming more palatable -- Dan has furnished MaryAnne with more ingredients and a full rack of spices -- but they were also becoming skimpier, a result Dan had explained was result of a closer inventory of the the dwindling food stocks. He saw in there faces that they didn't believe him. Sally had enjoyed a better than usual meal with Dan on the roof, so he knew she didn't believe him.

As the relief of having their own "places" gave way to the realization that they were being stored away -- just like the boxes and mostly crap before them -- Sally's people has stopped using the word "apartment" and were now referring to the 5x8s as exactly what they were, "units".

Dan had supplied the group more furnishings -- throw rugs, stools, wall decorations, better blankets, books games -- but almost immediately, the thefts had begun.

And then one late night after he'd fallen asleep in the Lair, monitoring the first of the infra night cams he'd installed on the buildings roof, Dan had been jolted awake by muffled cries coming over one of the microphones listening in on the 3rd floor. He'd cycled through the interior cameras as quickly as he could -- they'd all been set to outside cameras after he'd thought he'd seen movement outside -- but by the time he found the one overlooking the scene of the rape, all he could make out was a quickly departing female, slumped over, grasping at her tattered wardrobe as she rushed away toward the stairwell and "Heaven".

Dan had armed himself and hurried downstairs, searching for the perpetrators, knowing that at that moment he would have no problem what-so-ever filling a body -- bodies -- with hot searing lead.

But he found only a silent, sleeping floor. He'd agonized about whether to go to "Heaven", approach the "girl", comfort her; he didn't. She didn't need another man anywhere near her now. Instead, he went to Sally, woke her, sent her to "Heaven".

Later, when he'd asked about it, Sally had simply shook her head in that Let it go, Dan gesture. She was dealing with it; he let her.

As now, as he sat there at his "Command Central" -- all monitors now trained upon the floor below him, the 9mm semi-automatic pistol on his hip and the 12 gauge shotgun he'd only tonight separated from the last four inches of its barrel -- he waited, and watched, and thought, I can't do this alone.

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Vivien

Vivien went to Noodles and sat down to talk with MaryAnne, the only person she felt comfortable talking to since she arrived.

"Some knives have gone missing," MaryAnne said noncomittally. Vivien looked up from her noodles, startled.

"Knives?" she asked, her quiet voice slightly quivering. MaryAnne nodded curtly. "But why? Who?"

MaryAnne leaned closer toward Vivien. "If I had to take a guess. And this is just me, but I would probably guess Dale. He seems off, you know?"

"Yes, he does. I...don't like the way he looks at me. Or Sophie. Or Jane, or even Sally. But what would he use a knife for? He could take out many people with his own two hands."

"Speculating won't solve anything, Vivien. We don't know for sure. There are plenty of reasons why someone would want to have a weapon."

"It could be that they simply feel powerless in this situation and just want to feel like they have control of thier lives."

"You're speculating again," chided MaryAnne.

Out of the corner of her eye, Vivien spotted Dan as he got in line for noodles. She found herself examining his strong back through his cotton shirt, and the proud, youthful lines of his face. He seemed like such a strong leader- such an unapproachable person to her. Aside from running into him earlier, she'd never met him face to face except when she first came to to this place in the first place, and then she had only stared at her feet.

Dan's cool eyes met hers, and he offered her a little smile. Vivien's face turned crimson when she realized she was staring at him. She hoped he didn't notice, but she could tell by the glint in his eye that he did. He turned then to speak to Jane, who who smiled and chatted with him casually. Vivien felt another pang of jealousy. Jane's breasts showed pugnaciously through her tank, and her hips were sultry as the gym shorts hung off of them. Again, that jealousy- of longing to evolve into a woman- yet she was proud of who she was, she was proud, even, of her virginity- it made her special, pure. Which was why the jealousy was only a pang. The jealousy was mostly in regard to men- how men looked at these women- Sally, Sophie, and Jane- the looked at them differently. Especially Dan, whom Jane was chatting so casually with. Dan who seemed so above the rest of them to Vivien. What made the other women so special?

MaryAnne left to go fix more noodles, noticing that Vivien's mind was elsewhere.

After a few minutes of silence, Vivien herself returned to her room.

Profile Instructions

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If you are a current Writer who doesn't know where it is; or a prospective Writer who wants to join, please PM me: WriteWithMe (aka Tony)

Thanks.

Dale

Dale was outside Noodles, listening. So somebody had taken the knives... He guessed it was only natural he was suspected, but that didn't change the resentment. He watched Vivien leave and walked back in. 'Hello Mary-Anne, anything hot?' he smiled. He took the offered bowl and sat opposite her. 'I'm Dale - sorry I've not introduced myself before, I'm a shy guy.' he took a mouthful, 'mmm - you work wonders with this stuff' he laughed. 'what did you do back in the world?'

He listened - hopefully easing the worries of one individual - planting the seeds so to speak. Then returned to his room to put the spare toothbrush he had sharpened into his pocket - just in case.

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Dan Keel -- Profile Page

CHARACTER PROFILE PAGE

WRITER INFORMATION:


LITEROTICA SCREEN NAME:
WriteWithMe

NAME YOU WANT TO USE IN PMs AND OOCs (if different):
Tony

YOUR LOCATION: (Region/Country/State is adequate):
Oregon, USA

TIME YOU ARE TYPICALLY ON LITEROTICA: (Generally Speaking)
Weekdays: GMT 1:00 to 6:00 (5-11pm PST)
Weekends and most Mondays (day off) are wide open.


CHARACTER PROFILE:

NAME:
"Dan Keel"

AGE:
48 (at start of story; someday we will edit these)

GENDER:
Male

SEXUAL ORIENTATION AND "IDIOSYNCRASIES":
Hetero (for now); only slightly bi-curious.
Very liberal in his thinking but inexperienced in his, well, experiences.

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:
(I will be including a pic; can't find on my computer.)
5'10", 195#; fit but not a "hunk"
Good looking, but not a "face" model.

BIRTHPLACE/OTHER "LOCATION" INFORMATION:
Oregon (US) born and raised.
Saw "some" of the world. (See "Military Service" below.)

HERITAGE/RACE/ETHNICITY/LANGUAGE INFO:
"White" (OOC: don't particularly care for that word, but "Anglo" doesn't work either.)
Descendants are of mainly Western European races; he is a "Heinz 57".

EMPLOYMENT/ MILITARY SERVICE/ EDUCATION/ LIFE EXPERIENCES/ etc. (Before The Bug and Mayhem)
"Jack of all trades" (meaning he had a hard time keeping a job).
Nickname was "Handy Dan" for ability to fix or build just about anything.
Spent a few years in US Navy as Electronics Technician.
College, but no degree.
L.E.s: (to be completed later).

EXPERIENCE/ EFFECTS/ RELEVANT HAPPENINGS/ etc. (During/following the Bug and Mayhem)
(Depending upon when you read this, the following may not yet be information known to the others; before you include it in any posts, PM me and ask.)
Dan shut himself up in SecureStore before "The Bug" could get to him.
Based on what's happening in the Outside World, he has a 1 in 5 chance of being immune.

BASIC DETAILS OF INTERACTIONS AT SECURESTORE:
(Also, depending upon when you read this, the following may not yet be information known.
Dan and Sally were lovers years before the story; this is how she and the others came to be at SecureStore.
Dan and Sophie had a "thing" within weeks of the story beginning.

YOUR COLLABORATIVE DESIRES:
DO YOU WANT TO COLLABORATE WITH OTHERS?
Abso-frickin'-lutely!

DO YOU WANT TO COLLABORATE IN SEXUALLY BASED SITUATIONS?
YES ... BUT ... I write "erotica", not "porn".
Know what the difference is? "Erotica is a little bit of sex with a whole lot of story; porn is a whole lot of sex with a little bit of story.
I am not into "cunt" this and "fat hairy dick" that and "juicy juices flowing down my face".
Think "Harlequin Romance," not "Hustler" (not that I've ever read a HR novel, but you get the point.
If any of my characters forces him/herself upon someone, the sex will sound harsher; if he/she is making sweet love, it will sound sweet and passionate; but it won't be paragraph after paragraph of "fuck, fuck, fuck!".
Also, once my characters have had sex with another character, the descriptions of future sex lessen; they roll with the plot, rather than just repeat the same of "fuck, fuck, fuck" over and over.
If there isn't a plot reason for the sex, think "abstinence".
Will soon post a link here to some of my "sexual" writing.

OTHER THINGS I HAVE NOT THOUGHT OF; FEEL FREE TO EXPRESS YOURSELF:

Dan Keel is the man with a plan.
He was the On-Site Manager of the SecureStore when The Bug was released, and he immediately closed and secured the building. When he received a call from Sally, desperate for a place to hide "some" people, he agreed because of his concern and love for Sally; he had no idea she was showing up with 24 other people. Also, she guaranteed him that they were all Immunes; Dan has no idea of whether he is immune or not, so he made the others stay inside the SecurStore away from him for 3 weeks, just to see if anyone croaked.

Dan began imagining himself as "Master of the Keep" -- a Keep is a "small castle", and I only explain this because two different people have asked me -- and his "plan" -- his fantasy, actually -- was to use his control of the building and its resources to get what ever he wanted out of those in his care, particularly the "females", if you get my drift. (Thus the SRP title, "You Pay To Stay".) Things don't always work out like you plan, do they?

My primary purpose with Dan is actually to provide exposition -- details, background, environmental (that doesn't mean "trees" and "mountains") information -- via his dialogue and "reflections" (thus the reason his posts can be so long and detailed sometimes, or short with very pointed questions, comments, or actions. I am trying to give important details and/or elicit stories from the other writers.

Character Sheet: Vivien

CHARACTER PROFILE PAGE

WRITER INFORMATION:

LITEROTICA SCREEN NAME:
madamefielding

NAME YOU WANT TO USE IN PMs AND OOCs:
Katya

MY LOCATION:
North Carolina, US

TIME YOU ARE TYPICALLY ON LITEROTICA:

GMT 2:00-4:00 PM
(9-11 PM EST, sometimes earlier- around 5PM EST (3PM PST)


CHARACTER PROFILE:

NAME:
Vivien Sokolof

AGE:
18

GENDER:
Female

SEXUAL ORIENTATION AND "IDIOSYNCRASIES":
Heterosexual; innocent and naive, total virgin looking for 'true love'.

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:
5'3" blondish redhead, feminine and childish features, slim, slender body, small breasts.

BIRTHPLACE/OTHER "LOCATION" INFORMATION:
Born and raised in Philidelphia in an upper-middle class family.

HERITAGE/RACE/ETHNICITY/LANGUAGE INFO:
Caucasian, of Russian descent (parents were second generation immigrants)

EMPLOYMENT/ MILITARY SERVICE/ EDUCATION/ LIFE EXPERIENCES/ etc. (Before The Bug and Mayhem)
At Sixteen, she was accepted into a Conservatory for her exceptional skills as a young violinist, going from one sheltered environment to another.

EXPERIENCE/ EFFECTS/ RELEVANT HAPPENINGS/ etc. (During/following the Bug and Mayhem)
(Later)

BASIC DETAILS OF INTERACTIONS AT SECURESTORE:
(Later <3)

YOUR COLLABORATIVE DESIRES:
DO YOU WANT TO COLLABORATE WITH OTHERS?
Of course!

DO YOU WANT TO COLLABORATE IN SEXUALLY BASED SITUATIONS?
Also of course, however I prefer the subtleties of erotic writing rather than that of pornographic nature- the little things that make life erotic.

OTHER THINGS I HAVE NOT THOUGHT OF; FEEL FREE TO EXPRESS YOURSELF:
Poor Vivien is one of those hopeless romantic types and though she is skeptical of others, she gives her trust away easily... She longs to believe the best in people.

(OOC: I edited based on your new example/ PM me and tell me if I'm alright.)

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Dan, Sally (about Alex, Maria)

Sally had been trying to contact him for ... for what seemed forever. He wasn't in the mood; for her, for "them", for any of it. He felt he was in a "Catch 22". (Actually, he'd never seen the classic movie, but he'd found and old VHS copy of it in a storage locker, as well as a still functioning player, and he figured -- now that he was alone again, he'd finally get the opportunity to watch the flick.

He finally drew a deep breath, exhaled, and -- without even removing the radio from his hip -- depressed the "talk" button and growled, "What?"

Sally didn't hesitate. "I need to see you now, please."

He wasn't in the mood. "What's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong?"

He just shook his head. There was always something wrong. He felt a chill run up his spine. The sun had been down for an hour or two -- he thought it was six-ish, seven-ish -- and the temperature had plummeted. But he kept a trunk of coats, hats, gloves, and scarves next to the gazebo for such times, and was currently dressed in several layers of wool, alpaca, cotton ... who knows what else.

"Dan!"

Her voice shocked him back to reality. "What?"

"I need to see you. Now..." And in a softer tone, she added, "It's important."

He stood just inside a 20x20, watching her frantically pick through, first, a pile of womens' clothes, then a pile of mens'.

"Shoes?" she asked expectantly.

He pointed, unnecessarily, since she had her back to him. "In the back. Boys on the right, girls on the --"

"Men and women, Dan," she scolded, "Men and women."

"I saw him on the Portable, Sally," he said snottily. "He's twelve."

"Alex is eighteen."

"Yeah, and what's she...?"

"She's his date!" she popped playfully. "That's all you need to know about Maria."

Robert was waiting for her finish with ... you snake ... but she didn't.

He grumbled. "Date. He's taking her on a date? Where the hell's he gonna take her?"

Sally stood tall, hesitated, and turned; she was smiling.

He knew that smile. He mumbled. "Oh ... crap."



OOC: This post is directly relevant to a mini-thread that "began" before this and "ends" after this. Read, and enjoy, at the below link. (The scene isn't actually over; think of it as a soap opera -- just when it gets good, he credits roll, and you have to come back the next day to see what happens.

http://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=746535

Vivien

Vivien's fingers danced up her delicate arms. She was practicing. There was no bow, no strings, no violin. Simply the scales in her head and her fingers on her skin. They moved sluggishly, not deft and lithe like they had been before. But now, after the trauma of the Facility, of the Mayhem- now that she was calm again, and life had settled into a regular lull at SecureStore- the music that had abandoned her, that had left her soul, was slowly worming itself back into her soul.

She looked like both a woman and a child. A woman, because she was sitting cross-legged on her bed naked. A child, because of her fascination with her arm practicing, her innocent unawareness of her own sensuality.

Not only was she practicing- she was gathering her courage. She was going to ask Dan if she could have her violin back.

She loved the violin, and when she was forced to turn it over, it was if she were giving her own child for adoption. But she knew why he needed it. Now that things had calmed down, she could make a case- there was no longer the panic of their initial arrival to SecureStore.

Her arm grew tired, and she flopped on her back and stared out at the ceiling- unbeknowest to her, her haunting blue eyes were staring right into the camera Dan had installed a few days ago. Her limbs extended above her head, her lips and legs parted- she was relaxed. She was a classic nude, enveloped in navy blue bedsheets.

Like this, she fell asleep.

Gabe with "Female"

Everything about her current "posture" was about surrender; everything about his was about control.

She was below him, face into her pillow -- to silence her -- her arms bent at the elbows, bent into her body, flanking the breasts that her weight -- and his atop her -- were pressing into the mattress below. His fingers were interlace with her own, holding her hands firmly just below her trembling chin.

Gabe allowed the full weight of his perfectly sculpted body -- the result of untold hours in the gym, untold "enhancers" from his trainer -- to lie atop her, his legs outside of hers, holding her own thighs tightly against one another. He liked it this way, intercourse; he liked the feel of his penis "trapped" firmly within his current partner's clenched vagina; and, even more, he liked knowing that between his weight, his strength, and the all encompassing hold he had -- like a constrictor strangling it prey for future devouring -- that she had no choice but to "take it" the way he dictated.

It was one of the best fucks of her life; she would tell him that later, the next time they met. Of course, Gabe knew this already, even before he's finished because ... well, he'd fucked her.

Gabe was enjoying her as well ... very much so. Not necessarily because of the actual sexual pleasure, but instead for the ego boost he was getting: he'd found the elusive g-spot, then slowed and positioned himself and only moved as was necessary to drive her into an extended sexual orgasm. For several minutes, she'd been trembling in a level of euphoria few women would ever experience.

It was an orgasm Gabe had initiated, an orgasm Gabe was perpetuating, an orgasm that Gabe would bring to an end when he felt she'd had enough. Which ... was now ... She likely would have preferred to continue for minutes, hours, days ... the entirety of her life ... right here, under him, in his control, in that pleasurable place.

But Gabe knew that she'd been given enough to guarantee him a return fuck ... when he chose to have it. She was his now; that was all that mattered.

He repositioned his knees, gained a "stronger" posture, then rammed, rammed, rammed into her until the orgasm he'd been holding at bay welled and came forth. He reveled in the pleasure spreading through him ... waited to come back down ... then rolled off and away from her.

Mission accomplished.

He was nearly dressed before she herself had recovered enough to address him.

"Where'd you get those?"

He followed her weak gesture toward the condoms sitting atop the wood box she was using as a night stand. "One of the guys. He's been working for Dan, I guess."

"Doing what?"

He shrugged. "Who cares?"

She watched him for a bit. "What did you trade him?"

He hadn't really been paying attention when he responded, "Traded?"

She rolled unsteadily to her side, her body still trembling from the lengthy orgasm. "Trade. What did you trade him for the rubbers. I mean, you don't get anything around here without trading something for it." Gabe was busy dressing to leave and didn't see her suggestive expression when she added, "Or ... do something for it."

As he turned to face her with a "Were you talking at me?" expression, she sat up on the bed, arching her back a bit to highlight her firm, young breasts. She glanced over his clothes, then inquired, "How'd you get the stuff? The condoms, the jeans ... all of it. I'm just wondering. Did you do some work for Dan, too? I'm just asking. We ..." She smiled devilishly. "We didn't talk much, you know?"

He drew a frustrated breath, released it. He made a gesture toward his "outfit" and answered bluntly, "They were gifts."

She just smiled. "Oh."

He smirked a bit, thinking maybe he would just tell her that everything he had came to him from the women he'd pleasured. How they'd gotten it all -- the clothes, the shoes, even a diamond stud earring -- he didn't care. The women -- three and counting, including this one -- who wanted him to look good when he came to call gave him stuff.

He wrapped the used condom in a napkin -- he never left his seed around ... not anymore -- and shoved it into his pocket, then snatched up the remaining condoms.

"Am I going to see you again?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

He threw a zip-up sweat shirt over his shoulders. About time she asked, he thought. "See me?"

A guilty smile crossed her lips. "You know ... here ... in my room?"

He crossed closer to her. "Yeah ... sure. On one condition."

"Name it," she said quickly, eagerly.

"Don't talk about this..."

Her smile lessened.

"... to anyone."

Her smiled faded. She asked softly, "Why not?"

He used the same line he always used. "This thing we have is special, but it's personal ... you and me, babe."

She perked up a bit more. "Really?"

"Really. So ... just between you and me. For now, I mean." He reached out and lifted her chin in his finger tips. "Okay?"

She smiled, obviously pleased. "Okay."

He left, without a goodbye kiss, and only after checking Broadway for prying eyes, knowing -- and not caring -- that eventually, whether weeks, days, even hours, she would tell someone. He wanted people to know; know who he'd had, who'd had him ... who was his to have when he wanted.

He got something to eat at Noodles -- restore the energy -- then crossed over to the Sweat Shop.

Jane was there, just stepping away from the treadmill. She was drenched in sweat, her tee shirt clinging to her womanly features. Sally had come around a few days earlier with a bag of clothes for the women, a bag that some of them had practically shrieked over because of its contents: bras and underwear.

Gabe crossed his arms over his chest -- not a "pose" he took often because, simply put, it hid his chest -- and leaned against the unit's door frame, very conspicuously ogling Jane -- and noting she had apparently chosen not to make use the undergarments.

This was good news, Gabe thought, looking her up and down. He -- like many men -- loved not only seeing a woman's unbridled breasts, but in also believing their own reasoning of why a woman -- particularly one as sexy and well rounded as this -- goes bra-less when, obviously, she has another choice.

The logic of such a woman was simple: men look at my tits when I don't wear a bra; I know men look at my tits when I don't wear a bra; so obviously, I want men to look at my tits when I don't wear a bra; and the reason for that is ... I'm looking to get fucked.

It was a common belief -- likely untrue, but so what? -- of many men; it was a common belief of Gabe. But ... regardless, bra or no bra, Gabe was going to have Jane -- no, no ... Jane was going to have Gabe. Jane was a beautiful sexy woman, as much if not more so then even the other three he was bedding: Jane deserved Gabe, and she was going to have him ... whether she knew it yet or not.




was

Jane (Work out)

Jane had been bored. Big surprise there. Thoughts haunted her however, the memories were trying to come back. Pushing the buttons on the treadmill she ran faster. She wanted the sweat and needed the pain. The pain reminded her she was still human, when at times she didn't feel that way.

Pushing harder she controlled her breathing. Her thoughts rolled. Sally had been upset with her when she didn't take the undergarments she had been offered, but the truth of it was there were women and girls here that needed them. She honestly didn't. She had clothes now. Enough clothes to last her and do what she needed them to.

She could defend herself and some of them women here were less likely to be able to in a fight. So she figured by appearing to be 'easy' she would be attacked. She would handle it her way, but she made herself a target, an easy target. Mostly to try to help the others the best she could.

The sweat poured from her body the harder and faster she ran. Her legs were burning and finally came the pain. When it hit a devilish grin touched her lips. Slowing the machine to a stop she finally got off. For the first time she seen him. She had noticed him a few times and he was everything she wanted and could not stand rolled into one man.

She heard the rumors about him and it disgusted her. OF course if some of the women that he had bedded had a lick of common sense they would know half if not all of what came out of his mouth was lies, well maybe not an all out lie, but it was just enough to shut them up and not enough to tie him to anything.

Shaking her head she walked over to him. Her posture as it always was. Looking up she cocked her head to the side.

"Oh is there something you need, my my have I caught your attention finally after all this time."

Her voice was sarcastic but that was just how she was. She had heard enough about him to know at the very least he would be fun to spar with, if there was a ring they could spar in. At that thought she noted that she needed to talk to Dan about that. Standing there she draped the towel over her shoulder and crossed her arms over her chest.

Jane Cps

Jane's CS Click here

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Jane (dreams)

Laying in her so called bed Jane finally after an hour or so fell asleep. The day had seemed to drag on as always. She hated feeling like the out cast. Friends seemed not to exist here, and in all honesty she had not formed any relationships with anyone. Sure she was part to blame in that. Of course all the days were beginning to merge together. It was the same thing over and over again.

Wake up....brush teeth...shower....breakfast....workout....clean up....lunch.....clean up...chores...work out....dinner....shower...brush teeth....clean....bed....

She was tired of repeating life day after day. It was getting old, and she was loosing her reason to live. Well she had lost that when the bug hit. She lost her family her friends and her lover. Life had no meaning left except to survive. But what were they surviving for. Supplies would eventually run out and then what... People would form relationships and then what.... start a family....how can you start a family though in a world filled with death and decay...

That was all that was left in her life. Death and decay.... What more was there honestly....What was she going to meet Mr.Right get married and live in this place for the rest of the time she had left. What kind of life would that be. Were they really the lucky ones or were the lucky ones, the ones that had died. Sure it was more then likely a painful death but they had to be some place better then this. The world was ending and humanity seemed to no longer exisit.

This was a fight for their lives, but her question was what lives were they fighting for. The ones they could barely sustain. Where they had to hide away from the world and hope that things would just fix themselves. If people didn't get out there, and get answers then they would really have nothing left to live for. Her thoughts had haunted her for most of the night before she had finally drifted to sleep.

The lights were so bright. She had been trained though she should have been able to get out of this. The restraints though they were to tight, they would not budge. Fear gripped her heart as the realization of where she was had dawned on her. She wondered how long she had been out. How long she had been trapped her.

She had heard about this place, she knew that it existed but she never once thought that she would have been here. People were dying and wars were seeming to be waged and she was trapped in this room. To what, be tested on... She couldn’t remember when she got here or how. She could not remember what they were doing to her. Her thoughts rolled and rolled as she laid on the bed that she was bound to.

Looking around she noticed people...people in white coats walking in and looking at her. She couldn't understand what they were saying, things were still so cloudy...

As she tried and fought to focus on things, finally things became clear, and fear strangled her. Fighting against the restraints she caught their attention. Next thing she saw was the needle....

Snapping awake in a cold sweat she sat up. Looking around the room frantically she slowed her breathing as she realized where she was. Taking a few breaths she grabbed the bottle of water that she kept with her at all times now. Taking a drink she finally calmed down. Shaking her head she laid back down.

This was now her purpose. To find any of the ones still alive who did what ever they did to her, to find out what they did and to get her revenge upon them.

She was unable to fall back to sleep that night. She just laid there and thought about everything. Her training, her experiences...and him.... the man that put her in that hell that she had been in.

Vivien (flashback)

Vivien dreamed of white light. She dreamed of a chair, THE chair- a medical chair, like in a dentists office, the beige plastic sticking to her naked, sweaty body. The white was glaring- from the walls, the fluorescent lights, the lab coats those despicable men were wearing.

"Number Seventeen," one said outside the glass, hiding behind his dark sunglasses. She peered at him from behind her long bangs, drenched with sweat, hatred refracting off of her steeled blue eyes. Her legs were parted, her fingers between them.

"Number Seventeen, since you cannot penetrate yourself due to your elite status, you must make more of an effort. Moan louder, twitch, do something more than sit there and baaa like a sheep- or there will be consequences."

Vivien touched herself, aroused herself enough to be sweaty and make the show realistic. She had never had a real orgasms, but for those who watched, she had many fake ones. Behind the men in the lab coats, there was an audience of one hundred, they watched her, wrote things down, prepared for 'bidding' which never seemed to come. She let out moans, and cries and screams.

The men in the lab coats, nodded approvingly, and dimmed the lights until Vivien's world faded into black. Someone grabbed her and she let out a scream. They took her by the arm, gave her her daily shot before she could protest, and shoved her into her room.

She took out the violin from its case beneath her bed. She held it to her. If she played one note, she would be punished. But she held it and she cried, stifling her tears.

The Facility, the goddamn Facility.

Gabe Reflects

(OOC -- the "her" is unidentified for a reason; it is not a currently functioning PC)

This post begins after the end of this mini-thread in which Gabe and Jane first exchanged words. Read if you please.

Gabe and Jane "spar"

Gabe was having a difficult time concentrating. His exchange with Jane had gone just about the way he'd expected it -- they hadn't fucked -- but he hadn't expected her to be as closed and icy as she was. He knew there was a fiery, sexual machine inside that cold exterior. He just needed to warm it up.

It was going to be difficult, though. Jane didn't like him. Well, most women didn't actually like Gabe; they just wanted him to fuck them, either so they could say "I had that", or "That had me" ... or because they just assumed that a man like him could please them far better than the average man.

He appreciated that women looked at him and thought to themselves, ooo, he's gotta be good in bed. He was, of course; but, not having to prove it up front, having women just assume it ... it got him laid more often and by more women than the Average Joe.

Of course, the bod' didn't make him the lover he was. He owed that to one single woman from so very long ago. She'd taken him to an isolated cabin deep in the woods ... taken him in as a virgin of 18 ... then, 10 days later, returned him to the world a "man". He left those woods with an appreciation of what a woman wanted, and how he could give it to her.

He'd also come out with a belief that it was his duty to please every woman. It hadn't been his "teacher's" intention, but it had happened all the same. Some called him conceited; some called him a male-whore; some ... just called him. It meant nothing to him, the criticisms; he was who he was, and he did what he did, and if people -- male or female -- didn't like it, they could just walk away ...

... or in Jane's case ... let him walk away.

Concentrate, Gabe, he commanded himself.

He looked down to the woman crouched between his parted thighs. She'd been working him for ... well, long enough, he guessed. She needed to know he appreciated her. He relaxed ... put Jane out of his head; in no time, the pleasure that had been restricted primarily to his penis flooded through him.

She didn't like to swallow -- Gabe knew that, but didn't care -- so, as the orgasm announced its imminent arrival, he moved his hands to behind her skull, and held her in place, causing her to gagged just a bit as he encouraged her to take a bit more of his shaft through her lips.

He erupted with a long, low groan, filling the back of her throat. He waited for the last ejaculation, then dropped his hands to his side, spent.

Then ... again ... thought of Jane.