The Black Rose Society

((OOC: Thread idea and introduction courtesy of Veroe who gave me this as a gift when he left the thread. Thank you my friend . I'm restarting it with Execution_Style and if you have any comments, feedback or are interested in writing with either one of us or joining this thread, please feel free to PM us. Now, on with the show!))

The bar was seedy, but in this rundown third world country this bar was practically the ritz. Morgan saw the man he came here to find at a table in the corner. He was nursing a glass of expensive tequila. In this bar such a fine quality tequila would be three times its worth in the states, but he knew them man had demanding tastes.

That was his story, a man of exquisite taste brought to ruin.

He was pouring his last glassfull from the bottle as Morgan sat at his table facing him. "Mr. Remming."

Even with a bottle of fine tequila in him his hand dipped non chalantly under the table-reaching for a knife-no he's not the type to dirty his hands with a knife-a gun more likely.

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Remming," Nathan continued, If I was here to kill you I'd have waited for you to pass out from all the tequila you just drank."

"So if you're not here to to kill me," Mr. Remming asked, "Why are you in such a fine shithole as this establishment talking to me, and why do you know my name?"

It was time to put all the cards on the table. knowledge was power and Remming needed to know Morgan knew quite alot and wasn't to be pissed around with. "You are Stephen J. Remming III. Member of the Black Rose Society. A secret society that's the basis for the Illuminati urban myth. Your society was started during the sacking of Troy. You follow complicated rituals like the freemasons that none of the members know the true reasoning behind anymore. Rituals that use women as sexslaves-usually kidnapped and tortured women."

"Well," Remming said crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall, "You do know quite alot, which strikes me as somewhat odd since, most who know so much are part of the society and would not give me the time of day, or an outsider who is very very deceased via a very very tragic accident."

"I'm not finished," Nathan snapped, "Like I said you are Stephen Remming member of the Black Rose Society. You were a prominent member, a rising star in its complicated politics, which put you at odds with its current leadership-a man by the name of Solomon Perez." Nathan smiled at the little glimmer of hatred he saw in Remming's eyes at the mention of that name. "He framed you for a violation of the society's rules, stripped you of your fortune, and seeded most of the countries of the world's Intelligence and Law Enforcement agencies with your name on the top of their most wanted lists. That bastard didn't even have the decency to arrange your death as you slept. Instead he cut you loose to agonize in your newfound state of impotence."

He had a hard edge to his voice now, "Finished now? Good, because I've just figured out who you are. You're Morgan Tanner, former US Navy Seal turned paint shop owner. You and your wife vacationed in the caribean one year. You went out to sea for a few days and she stayed behind to shop. Only she didn't do much shopping. She was abducted and bought on the market by the society, and singled out by Grandmaster of the sixth circle Solomon Perez as his newest pet. She was tortured, brain-washed, and raped so much that she became wounded bleeding from the inside out, and rather than have her attended to, Perez left her to hemhorraging on the beach. I seem to remember the local paper saying how you found her Mr. Tanner. How you held her in your arms as she bled to death telling her how much you loved her." He laughed, "Goddamn, isn't it the perfect set up for one of those lame late night action movies on TV?"

Morgan's only reaction was a furious glower like the split second before a volcano blows its top.

"Tell me, Mr. Tanner," Remming continued, "Why do you look so lively for a man that supposedly died in a carefully staged tragic car accident over three years ago?"

Morgan slowly reached into his pocket. "When I went out to sea those few days I went deep sea diving, and there at the bottom I found a wrecked spanish galleon filled to the brim with these." He pulled out a golden coin. "I survived you bastards' little car accident and used my new found fortune to make everyone believe I died in it. All the better. It gave me time to dig for anything to learn about you bastards and to prepare to settle up with that mother fucker who raped and murdered my wife."

Remming laughed again this time much more hearfelt and satisfied, "God damn, Solomon has no idea he has a shark in the wading pool, does he?"

"That's where you come in. I can't get close enough to settle up with him."

"Oh," Remming asked, "And what do you need from little ole poor Stephen Remming? I'm twisting in the wind, on my last dime, and more than likely going to wake up with CIA stormtroopers kicking in my door."

Morgan reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. It was a man's ring adorned with a diamond, a black diamond.

"The Black Rose," Remming said grabbing it and lifting it up for his inspection, "It looks just like one of the real ones."

"It is, I used a few million to surreptitiously have it added to last year's new additions. your jeweler may be a member and uncorruptible but his son isn't and is greedy enough to take a bribe."

Remming wasn't really listening he was slipping the ring onto his finger. It stopped at the second knuckle.

"It's fitted for me," Morgan told him holding his hand out for it.

Gritting his teeth and fire filling his eyes Remming said caustically, "Of course it would be." He placed into the waiting palm of Morgan's hand. "So you need me for what to rub in my fall from power?"

"No, the ring can get me through the door, but beyond that is a problem."

"Oh we never wrote down the rules for our rituals did we, and that ring would belong to a member of the fifth circle. Not one who would be unaware of a single little rule."

"I need you to tell me how to get close to Solomon, Mr. Remming." He pulled out a knife from his belt. "This is a survival knife Claire gave me for our-for her-last wedding anniversary. I want to get close to solomon, become buddy buddy with him close enough that he'll let his gaurd down so I can ruin him like he ruined you, then shove this into his back as I tell him just for whom I'm killing her, for my Claire."

He looked dead serious into Remming's eyes, "He gutted you and left you to be hunted and slain like a rabid dog, Mr. Remming. So what do you say? Will you help me get revenge on Solomon Perez? Will you help me send that mother fucking bastard straight to hell?"

"It's tempting," Remming told him, "But it would never work. You have to be a god damn human-sized tyaranosaurus rex in the society to pass off as a member, and especially to get close to Solomon. You aren't the type. You're more the dashing hero than the rat bastard. What we do to our cumsluts, you would never have the stomach for."

"You will teach me, to be a rat bastard."

He pointed to the ring still in Morgan's hand. "You will need several sluts, or one exceptional one with you."

He pulled out a picture and placed it on the table. "I already found her. She's younger than Claire was, but blonde, petite, one of those fucking pocelain dolls turned to life-just Solomon's type."

"God damn," Remming swore lifting the photo up to look at the girl closer, "You really want him dead don't you?"

"And you don't?"

"I do," Remming said looking at the girl in the photo, "Yes, Mr. Tanner, I am in. We will take this girl, and I will twist her to be the most perfect of cumdumpsters and you to her perfect sadistic master for the Black Rose Society."

April Denavere had led a relatively normal life up to this point, she’d been the average student, not outstanding by any means but not the class dunce either. She’d been on her way home when he blitzed her. Or was it they? She remembered struggling but beyond that? Darkness and the slam of metal on metal which was suggestive of a car boot slamming above her head. Now her eyes opened slowly with a groan, she was met with blazing white concrete surroundings and her hands slapped the floor as she rolled up and off her stomach.

April scrambled up off the ground in shock and spun around too fast, she gripped her head as the room continued spinning. The drugs still swimming through her bloodstream had a dizzying effect on her. When she could finally lift her head again, she gasped and realized she was naked. Her hands moved to collectively cover her breasts and clean shaven mound before she remembered that she was alone.

“I gotta get out of here…” She swallowed her fear and tried to be calm as she walked to the door, deep down she knew it would be locked long before she turned the handle to be met by a resistant click.

“Fuck!” She screamed and beat her fists on the door, “Hello?! Help!”

She wasn’t sure this was a smart idea but April couldn’t care, she was naked and trapped in a windowless room…things couldn’t get much worse. She gave up beating on the door and kicked it in frustration.

“Ow! Ow, ow, ow!” She whimpered and lifted her leg up, hopping after her toe exploded with pain. She limped over to the opposite end of the room and sat down against the wall, bringing her knees up to her chest protectively.

“What do you want?…” She asked in a quiet and fearful whisper as every abduction film she’d ever seen, every horror story ever told flashed through her mind and nothing could truly prepare her for the events to unfold.

“What the hell do you want with me?!” She screamed into the empty recesses of the barren room, it echoed off the walls and drifted into silence. Her questions, her screams, her calls and cries unanswered.

After a few more minute of silence, the lock in the door clicked and it opened. April held her breath and lifted her head, trying to cease the pounding in her ears that told of her heartbeat racing in terror. She stared into the eyes of her abductor and prayed she wouldn’t become one of those sobbing hopeless girls she watched in movies. She pressed her back hard into the wall, willing it to hold her there and never let go. April wasn’t stupid, he’d stripped her naked for a reason and she’d be damned before he got his hands on her all that easily.

“What do you want?” April asked quietly, trying to keep her voice steady and not give him the satisfaction of knowing she was terrified.

IC: Morgan Tanner

Morgan Tanner sat in his computer chair looking intently at the monitor. He had come very far these last few weeks. Other then the few million he had spent already to get the interest of his new partner Stephen Remming, he had purchased a bunker out in the desert and had it fitted out with all the latest high tech gadgets. Every room in the bunker was under video surveillance, the doors all locked magnetically so that even if a lock was picked the door still wouldn’t open.

Among the pictures on Morgan’s monitor was April Danavere sitting alone in her cell. She was younger than his wife and reminded him of a porcelain doll. Her slim frame was a delight to set your eyes upon. All of Morgan’s hopes rested upon this young woman and on how well she was to cope with the goings on of the next few months.

“Oh April I’m so sorry for what is about to happen to you.” Morgan whispered to himself.

It was a hard truth that Morgan had to learn. He was going to make this young woman do all the things that the Black Rose Society made his wife do. Morgan’s brow furrowed and his fist clenched tightly into a white knuckled ball.
“DAMN”! Morgan slammed his fist down onto the computer bench.
He knew if he was going to pull this off, he was going to have to control his temper. He rocked back in his chair and lit a cigarette.

“Ok Tanner get yourself together”

The computer screen came to life and Morgan tanner watched helplessly as his plan kicked into gear. This was it. No way out now. Nowhere to run nowhere to hide. Stephan Remming was casually walking towards April’s Cell.

IC: Stephen Remming
Stephen Remming had always been a cold and calculated man. He walked down the hallway to the cell his new awaiting victim had been placed in. Memories flooded back to him of the hundreds of girls he had trained before. He paused for a moment, reminiscing. This had always been his favorite part. As he got to look at the fear in her eyes this first day; watching the horror on her face as he took her apart, watching her cry and beg for mercy, naked, on her knees with tears rolling down her cheeks. A smile spread across his face.

“Oh I am truly demented”, he said to himself.

He reached out and turned the door handle, it opened with a click. He then reached up to press a button on the wall that deactivated a magnet; the solid door eased open. The room itself was large; the white walls and concrete floor giving a sharp, glaring appearance like that of a bare surgical ward.

April Danavere was crouched in a ball against the wall trying to cover her exposed breasts and nether regions with her knees up protectively in front of her.

“What do you want?” she asked in a whisper.
Stephen didn’t justify her question with an answer and instead moved silently towards her. A menacing look swept across him as the first blow came down hard across her face. He came down again on the other side of her face with a firm open hand.

Leaning over her, he smacked down hard open handed blows all over her body. The first of which landed on her arms, knocking them away and grabbing one arm he started to smack her breasts and down her sides. The sting pulsing through his hand and up his arm. He wrestled her legs apart and started laying in to her inner thighs the loud slapping sound echoing in the cell.

Welts came up instantly. This visual effect always turned Stephan on but he would have to worry about himself later. If this was going to work he would have to break her. He looked down in between her legs at her clean shaven pussy. It seemed to glisten a little. He whacked down hard with the back of his hand and watched her cunt glow red.

“How do you like that whore?” He said with a menacing tone to his voice.

“I have you all to myself, and I’m going to have me some fun”. He said not waiting for a reply.

With that Stephan pushed April down to the ground. He used his forearm to
press hard down on April’s windpipe and used the other one too block the incoming blows from April’s furious attempts to get him off her. Her cries fell on deaf ears. Stephan mind was one tracked now. He’d slipped into his alter ego so easily.

Slowly the fight was taken out of April as she struggled for breath. Stephan took advantage of her weak figure and took the chance to feel her up. He roughly grabbed at her breasts and pussy and slipped a finger in. All of this to make her feel violated. This was just the beginning.

Stephan new that this would have to go on for some time. He stood up and took a step back. Looking down on April he could see her petite frame covered with red welts. Tears rolling down her cheeks. He felt oblivious to her cries. He would give her a small break from the violence.

April’s question went unanswered as Stephen crossed the room and she looked into the eyes of her abductor. There was no compassion or sympathy in those eyes, there was a cold, hard interior to match an upper class exterior. His first response to April left her no doubts about that interior as he rained down hard, open handed smacks across her exposed flesh which left her to forget about her nudity and any vulnerability out of reflex to protect herself.

April screamed and desperately scrambled over the concrete in an effort to get away from the madman. He became more hands on as she struggled to escape him and gripped her thighs so tightly that her lily white skin bruised dark almost immediately. However her screams reached a new crescendo when his hand landed with brutal force on her nether regions, she’d never been hit there in such a manner and certainly never on purpose!

“How do you like that whore? I have you all to myself and I’m going to have me some fun”

“I’m not a whore!” April managed to choke out before he started to choke her, pressing his forearm against her windpipe.

April screeched like a Banshee and clawed desperately at Remming as he strangled the very breath from her body until she lost the will to fight. Her breathing became shallow and irregular, she started to feel increasingly tired. Battling the edge of unconsciousness, she felt his fingers roughly invading her womanhood but as she tried to tell her arm to move, to stop him, to do something! It was useless, her fingers barely twitched and her eyes started to close slowly.

All April could think was; this is it and she was going to die…