My place... Or yours?

[Maid of Marvels]

Lancaster Green is a business executive who has come to New York City on special assignment. He is tall, handsome and muscular; resplendent in his immaculately tailored suits. His face has a sneering, arrogant appearance, yet also a certain devilish charm. He carries himself with a feline grace, and has the confidence and self-assurance of a man with, well, let's say substantial concealed assets.

Angela Buonacore is a research librarian at the Epiphany Branch of the New York Public Library on 23rd Street. Unassuming, Angela dresses for comfort; she is of medium height and her chestnut brown hair hangs in spiral curls just below her shoulders. People are drawn to her by the sparkle in her eyes and the warmth of her ever-present smile which make up for the fact that she is not what most would consider beautiful.

To all outward appearances, Lancaster is just another hard-charging, aggressive businessman, and Angela is a quirky bookworm with a passion for poetry and coffeehouses.

But things are not always as they appear...

*****

This thread is reserved for Graybread, guilty pleasure and myself. If you are interested in joining us, please PM for details.

~Maid, GP & Gray

 

[Maid of Marvels]

"This is the house. The house on East 88th Street...

It's empty now, but it won't be for long."

An hour later, Angela closed the book. Story Time ended as it always did, with a chorus of 'so longs, byes and see you next weeks'. This was quite possibly the most favorite time at the Epiphany. The children. So pure and innocent. Their eyes wide with wonder as she read them stories week after week.

She ran her fingers lovingly over the book's cover as she set it back on the shelf where it belonged. Someone was certain to be asking for it tomorrow, she thought with a fond smile.

Returning to her desk, Angela took her last phone call of the day, a little boy wanting to know how much a gallon of water weighed. "Eight point three three pounds." She chuckled when he uttered a quiet "Wow!" and mumbled a quick thank you before hanging up.

Angela loved her job. Every time someone had a question or needed help finding something was like going on a treasure hunt. She always seemed to find something new and exciting along the way. Lateral thinking. Sideways surfing. That's what her Boss called it anyway.

Grabbing her coat, Angela said her goodbyes and headed for The Comfy Chair, a coffeehouse near her loft in the Village. It was "Open Mike" night and she hoped to hear at least some good poetry while she scribbled in her ever-present ledger over a light dinner and a cup or six of coffee. Or maybe she'd splurge and have something decadent. Like an Irish Monk. Angela couldn't help chuckling at the thought as she got into her car and headed down toward Bleecker.

 

[Graybread]

Lancaster Greene

Lancaster sat in his Manhattan Penthouse apartment, listening to ‘Der Ring des Nibelungen’, by Wagner, his eyes closed, a scotch in hand. He sat in his black Coja leather chair, his feet on the ottoman. Of all the leathers in the world the Barolo Grade exhibited a blend of unique pigments, which appear three dimensional and translucent, much like human flesh. Dark swirls blended in a capricious interplay of shadows and light, giving each pattern its own unique identity. The hand of Barolo is very inviting and sensual to the touch, evidenced by Lancaster’s stroking of the arm, as the music cascaded through his mind. The walls of the apartment were a dull medium grey, accented by frosted glass and gold trimmed sconces, which threw a dim light on the lighter grey ceiling. Scattered about the room were Lancaster collection of ancient sculpture and pieces of architecture, from Babylon, Assyria, Persia, Egypt, and Israel. Culminating in the huge display case across the room from where Lancaster was sitting, with over one hundred pieces of smaller sculptures, all original, there where no reproductions in his collection. The collection was both beautiful and profane, an assemblage of chipped rock and stone from the cradle of humanity. However, his most prized possession was the Spear of Longinus. (Longinus was the Roman soldier who pierced Jesus’ side with the ‘Spear of Destiny’ when he was crucified. He was the centurion responsible for saying “This was the Son of God”). The spear lay in a glass box on the top shelf of the display case. Lancaster had had a Gold plague engraved with these words.

"I knew with immediacy that this was an important moment in my life...I stood there quietly gazing upon it for several minutes, quite oblivious to the scene around me. It seemed to carry some hidden inner meaning which evaded me, a meaning which I felt I inwardly knew, yet could not bring to consciousness...I felt as though I myself had held it in my hands before in some earlier century of history - that I myself had once claimed it as my talisman of power and held the destiny of the world in my hands. What sort of madness was this that was invading my mind and creating such turmoil in my breast ?"
Adolf Hitler

“Il pranzo è preparato, signore,”

Lancaster opened his eyes and gazed at Felix, his manservant for the past hundred and fifty years.
“Grazie, Felix,” he said, as he rose and glided across the plush gray carpet, to his evening meal. His hand caressing the surface of the twelve-foot tall, broken fluted marble column, from the ruin at the Temple of Apollo at Delphi, that flanked the entrance to the kitchen area, as he passed. The cracked, Doric capital lying at the base of the column, as if it had fallen there centuries earlier.
“Will you be going out tonight Sir,” Felix asked, as he poured Lancaster a glass of pure spring water.
“Yes, I believe so,” Lancaster replied, his razor sharp knife slicing through the still cool, bloody chunk of lamb on his plate. “I….hunger tonight.”
“Very well Sir. I shall wait up then.”
Lancaster grunted as he bit into the meat, bloody juices running down and dripping off his chin. He finished his meal but his hunger was not sated, he needed more, and he knew where to find it. Finishing the last of the lamb, he pushed the plate back and downed the spring water. Wiping his chin clean with an expensive linen napkin.
“Felix, Eccellente,” he said to his manservant.
“Grazie signore,” Felix replied, nodding his head slightly.
Lancaster rose and placed his hand on Felix’s shoulder. A dozen years seemed to fall off the man’s face as it filled with ecstasy, his eyes rolling back in his head.
Lancaster picked up his scotch and went to wash his hands and face. He sat the glass on the granite counter top, looking into the mirror. It seemed that there were two reflections there. He checked the stubble on his chin, deciding he didn’t need to shave. He straightened his dark, grey silk tie as he entered the bedroom, grabbing the lighter grey jacket of his Sabatini suit. He picked up the keys to the Lincoln Navigator and headed for the door. Felix was there, holding it open for him.
“I’ll only be a short while Felix,” he said.
“Very well Sir.”

He took the private elevator from the pent house to the parking garage and slid into the seat of the dark grey Navigator. As he drove down the street toward the Village, he felt an unfamiliar tug to his psychic emotion. It was coming from straight ahead. It was strongest as he passed a little coffeehouse called ‘The Comfy Chair’. He continued down the street, but could not shake the feeling. He kept looking over his shoulder as he passed the building. He felt compelled to go to the coffeehouse; something or someone was there that he needed to meet, that he was drawn too. He decided that could wait, he needed to feed his other hunger first.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

The Comfy Chair wasn't very busy...

Angela could hear the clinking of coffee cups over the low drone of voices as she sat down at a table near the window. "Hi, Ange!" Lisa, the waitress chirped. "Whatcha havin'?"

"How about a grilled portobello? And a cappuccino in the meantime, please. Cinnamon."

Angela took out a pack of cigarettes and lit up. Taking a deep drag, she watched the smoke swirl upward in a wispy tendril. It was probably her only vice, a bad one most would say, but she knew of a lot worse. She smiled as she opened her carry-all, pulled out her ledger and a pen and began to write.

When Lisa brought the portobello and salad, Angela closed the ledger and pushed it to the side. "You're always scribbling in that thing, Ange. When you gonna break loose and read for us?"

"One of these days, Lisa. One of these days."

"Yeah. Right. That'll be the same day you order a burger," the waitress giggled as she walked away. "I'll be back with another cappuccino in a sec."

"Hey, Sunshine." Angela looked up and smiled. It was Peaches, one of the locals that hung out in the Comfy Chair.

"Hey! Sit with me for a bit," she invited. "Haven't seen you for a while. Where have you been?" As she sat, Angela saw the white gauze bandages peeking out from under the cuffs of her long-sleeved shirt. Pretending not to notice, she grinned and pushed her untouched plate over toward Peach. She was probably hungry, too. "It's not a steak, but it'll do you fine." She looked around for Lisa to order Peaches a cup of hazelnut coffee, her favorite.

"You're always scribbling, Sunshine... but you never show anyone what you're writing or even tell us what you're writing about," Peaches said quietly as she rubbed her nose. "Allergies," she offered lamely.

Angela shrugged and laughed it off. "Uh huh. You really don't want to know anyhow, Peach. You reading tonight?"

Peaches looked up at her and smiled wanly. "Probably. Nothing of mine though. Kinda dry lately." Lost in thought, she ate in silence while Angela continued to scribble.

Would-be poets, singers, comedians, actors and actresses and just folks with an ax to grind... the stream of performers onstage was steady. And then it was Peaches' turn. Angela snapped her fingers in approval as she made her way to the mike.

Peach waited until the room grew quiet in expectation. When it did, she began to recite a piece by Maggie Estep:

"SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE

I am THE SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE
so don't mess with me
I've got a big bag full of SEX TOYS
and you can't have any
'cause they're all mine
'cause I'm
the SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE.

"Hey," you may say to yourself,
"who the hell's she tryin' to kid,
she's no sex goddess,"
But trust me,
I am
if only for the fact that I have
the unabashed gall
to call
myself a SEX GODDESS,
I mean, after all,
it's what so many of us have at some point thought,
we've all had someone
who worshipped our filthy socks
and barked like a dog when we were near
giving us cause
to pause and think: You know, I may not look like much
but deep inside, I am a SEX GODDESS.

Only
we'd never come out and admit it publicly
well, you wouldn't admit it publicly
but I will
because I am
THE SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE.

I haven't always been
a SEX GODDESS
I used to be just a mere mortal woman
but I grew tired of sexuality being repressed
then manifest
in late night 900 number ads
where 3 bodacious bimbettes
heave cleavage into the camera's winking lens and sigh:

"Big Girls oooh, Bad Girls oooh, Blonde Girls oooh,
you know what to do, call 1-900-UNMITIGATED BIMBO ooooh."

Yeah
I got fed up with the oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh
I got fed up with it all
so I put on my combat boots
and hit the road with my bag full of SEX TOYS
that were a vital part of my SEX GODDESS image
even though I would never actually use
my SEX TOYS
'cause my being a SEX GODDESS
it isn't a SEXUAL thing
it's a POLITICAL thing
I don't actually have SEX, no
I'm too busy taking care of
important SEX GODDESS BUSINESS,
yeah,
I gotta go on The Charlie Rose Show
and MTV and become a parody
of myself and make
buckets full of money off my own inane brand
of self-righteous POP PSYCHOLOGY
because my pain is different
because I am a SEX GODDESS
and when I talk,
people listen
why ?
Because, you guessed it,
I AM THE SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE
and you're not."

When she finished, Peaches lifted the hem of her mini, curtseyed simply and walked out of the Comfy Chair followed by a raucous medley of snapping, clapping and cheers. Angela sighed. Peach was probably going to turn a couple tricks for her next high. Things were worse for her friend than she had thought.

 

[Graybread]

Lancaster Greene

He passed a long line of people waiting to get into a club. He looked up at the name, ‘Beelzebub’s Pit’, it read. Sounds like my kind of place, He chuckled to himself, as he pulled into the parking garage. Parking the Navigator, he walked down the sidewalk, passing the line of a fifty or so people waiting to get into the club.

“Daddy?” a young girl said as he glided past her.

“What are you talking about,” her friend said. “That’s not your Dad.”

“Well….it looks just like him,” she replied.

“You’re crazy, your Dad’s a plumber.”

It happened two more times before Lancaster reached the front of the line.

“Sorry,” the burley doorman said, “ya gotta go to the end of the line.”

“Does this help,” Lancaster said, placing a crisp hundred dollar bill in the mans hand.

“Yes Sir,” the doorman said, smiling, unhooking the stanchion rope, allowing Lancaster to pass. Stuffing the bill in his pocket.

The club was someone’s, garish, demented, rendering of what Hell should look like. It was like a huge cavern, the walls were covered with fake stone, of some fireproof material. The ceiling also was of the same material, but with stalactites hanging down from it, some meeting with stalagmites from the floor, obviously columns holding the ceiling up. There were lava rock braziers, encased in wire, strategically placed around the cavern, which periodically issued bursts of red fire. The serving girls all wore red satin devil costumes, complete with horns, and pointed tail. Lancaster shook his head in disgust as he made his way to the bar.

“A Bowmore, neat.” He said to the bartender.

“Sir?” the bartender asked, unsure.

“Bowmore, scotch….neat.” Lancaster replied.

“I’m sorry sir, we don’t pour that brand.”

“Well what brand do you pour,” Lancaster sneered at him.

“Johnnie Walker, ah Cutty, White Label, ah….”

“Dewar’s will be fine,” Lancaster said, glaring at the man.

Lancaster stood at the bar, scanning the room for her, the one he needed to feed his hunger. He saw several young women looking in his direction, all smiling, curiosity written on their faces. Then he saw her, sitting in the back of the cavern, with her friends. She was blond with blue eyes, an angelic face, an innocent, maybe twenty two, but not much older. She was watching him, whispering to her friends. He raised his glass to her, as an invitation. She rose and came to him like a ‘moth drawn to flame’, to doom and death.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice weak and unsure. Looking up into his face, into his eyes.

Lancaster towered over her as he looked down into her eyes, capturing her absolutely.

“Would you like a drink,” he said, offering her his glass.

She took it in both trembling hands and sipped at it, never taking her eyes from his.

“You look like my…,” she began.

“Your father,” he finished for her.

“Yes,” she whispered again, her eyes finally breaking free of his, “you look like my Daddy.”

“You love your father, don’t you.”

“Yes, very much,” she said, raising the drink to her lips again and sipping.

Lancaster reached for the glass and took her chin in his other hand, raising her eyes to his again.

“I wish be your ‘Daddy’ tonight,” he said to her, “would you like that?”

Her hands dropped to her sides as she trembled, a small orgasm passing through her, soaking her panties, her eyelids fluttering, at his touch. She would have fallen to the floor if he had not been holding her up by the chin.

“Yes…Daddy, I would like that very much,” she whispered, her voice barely perceptible.

“I’m going to release you now, and I want you to go tell your friends that you’re leaving, that you’ll see them tomorrow. Then come back to me, understand?”

Lancaster released her chin, and her eyes opened fully, shining brightly, with what might have been mistaken as love. She crossed back to her friends and told them she was leaving, much to their dismay. Lancaster finished his drink as he waiting for her to return. Taking her small hand in his, he led her to the entrance and out. He opened the door of the Navigator for her and helped her in. As they drove down the street to his penthouse, he once again felt the draw to the coffeehouse. He would investigate that as soon as possible, but he needed to feed right now.

“My name is Michelle,” she said, breaking the silence as they drove the short distance.

“Can I call you…,” he paused, looking over at her. “Muffy?”

“Yes,” she blushed, giggling, “that’s what Daddy calls me sometimes.”

“I know,” Lancaster replied.

He parked the Navigator and helped ‘Muffy’ out. Leading her to the elevator and taking her to the penthouse. She was in awe of his collection and his apartment. He had no time to tell her of the collection, his hunger was growing and he needed her. But he had to have her willing, he could not take her by force, he had to play the game. He poured one drink and shared it with her. He made small talk and showed her around the apartment, Felix was nowhere to be seen. He finally led her to his bedroom. He stood by the bed as she looked around, going into the adjoining bathroom, in awe of the price he must pay for such a place. As she was standing at the window, looking at the view of Manhattan, he came up behind her, pulling her blond hair back, he gently kissed her on the back of the neck. She shuddered at the sensation, turning to face him she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself up to kiss him. He lowered his head to meet her lips, his tongue sliding into her mouth. The kiss was long and sensuous, as he drew her breath from her, beginning to feed.

“Oh Daddy,” she gasped, “make love to me!”

“Of course Muffy, I have waited since you were a little girl for this moment,” he lied in her ear.

She shuddered again at the incestuous thought of fucking her father. A thought she had masturbated too many times.
He slowly began to unbutton her cheap, polyester blouse, rolling it off her shoulders and down her arms. He unhooked her black bra and let it fall to the floor. His hands covered her small breasts, squeezing them, and pinching the nipples. He bent and sucked the soft pink nipples into his mouth. She gasped at his touch, her head tossed back and her eyes closed. He flipped the button open on her short spandex skirt and pulled the zipper down, letting it fall to the floor. She stood there, in front of the open window, for all the world to see, willing him to continue. He placed his hand between her legs and manipulated her clit through her wet panties. She spread her legs and humped against his hand, another small orgasm flooding through her. He slipped his hands into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down, and stepped back from her. She was a beautiful, naked angel before him, her innocence radiating like a halo
He removed his jacket and tossed it on the chair as she watched. Removing his tie and silk shirt, they too went to the chair. He kicked off his shoes and removed his pants, tossing them to the chair as well. He stood in front of her with just his black silk boxers, waiting. She stepped up to him and kneeled down, taking his boxers in her small delicate hands and pulled them down.

“Oh Daddy,” she gasped as she took his huge cock in her hands. “It’s… it’s so big.”

Even though only semi hard, Lancaster’s cock was already seven or eight inches long, the sides bulged with heavy veins.

“Daddy wants you to suck his cock Muffy,” he said looking down at her.

She smiled up at him as she wrapped her two small hands around his cock and lifted it to her mouth. She licked along the length of it, tonguing the bulging veins. She sucked the gland in and about a quarter of his cock. It hardened in her mouth to its full ten inches. She tried to take it all down her throat but couldn’t. She gagged and chocked on it, tears coming to her eyes, but she didn’t want to stop, she wanted to please her ‘Daddy’. Lancaster feed off her sexual arousal, letting her do as she wanted. He laid his hand on her head and stopped her gag reflex, pushing his cock down her throat. Her eyes shone with love, as she swallowed around his cock. Finally, he pushed her head back and taking his cock in his other hand, he squeezed the precum from it rubbing it across her lips. She lapped it up like a hunger kitten.

He raised her by the chin and led her to the bed, pulling the covering back to reveal the grey satin sheets. She willingly lay on the bed reaching up for him. He lay beside her and kissed her hard, moving down her body to her cunnie. He licked at her folds bringing moans from her as she tossed her head.

“Oh God Daddy,” she panted. “That feels so good.”

God has nothing to do with this, you little piece of meat. Lancaster sneered at the mention of God.

His tongue snaked out and entered her, two, three then four inches, licking where no mans tongue would ever reach. She shuttered at the pleasure not really aware of what was wrong with the situation. He fucked his tongue into her, bringing her to yet another orgasms, feeding off her release. His pupils turned to slits as he drank from her. He climbed up her body and slipped his cock into her the full ten inches. She gasped at the fullness of it. She had never been so full in her short life nor ever would be again. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, gripping him hard to her body, as he lay on her.

“Fuck me Daddy,” she panted. “Please Daddy, fuck me hard.”

Lancaster increased his rhythm as he fucked her harder and harder, feeling his own peak getting closer. Not yet. he told himself.

She was lost in ecstasy as her orgasms rolled through her, one after the other, and he feed off her. Lancaster felt his orgasm nearing, his skin changed to a dark, scaly grey, and his teeth sharpened. His cock expanded to six inches around and fifteen inches long and banged against her womb, tearing her from the inside. Her eyes popped open at the pain and she stared into the face of death. Terror filled her very being and he feed off it. She kicked and beat at him with her small fists, her pretty blue eyes staring into his yellow, slitted ones. His semen erupted into her and ate at her insides as he lunged into her. His growl was deep and coarse as he pulled her life from her.

“Daddy….why?” she whispered with her dieing breath, and then her body went limp, her dead eyes staring at death, and damnation.

He continued to pound into her body, fucking the dead piece of meat hard, until his orgasm subsided. After several minutes, he returned to his normal self, collapsing on her body, holding her, caressing her. He kissed her dead lips gently, and licked the tears from her lifeless eyes, his hunger satisfied, until the next time.

“Go to Ereshkigal, child, Queen of the Underworld,” he whispered to her.

He rolled off her and got off the bed, heading to the shower.

“Shall I dispose of the body Sir?” Felix said, standing in the doorway.

“Si,” he replied, “I’m done with it now.” His thoughts returning to the coffeehouse and who or what, awaited him there.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Angela woke early the next morning...

slipped on her sweats, a pair of sneaks and headed out the door for her daily jog. The weather was crisp and the run always helped clear the morning cobwebs from her brain.

Today was going to be a busy day. A group of fifth graders from the local elementary school were coming in to learn how to do research for a paper. Angela knew they would probably be less than thrilled, but she always looked at research as kind of a treasure hunt and hoped that she would inspire at least a couple of the children to think the same.

An hour later, she was back in front of the building where her loft was. She checked her watch. Time enough for a shower and a quick breakfast, then off to work.

Just another regular day in the otherwise uneventful life of Angela Buonacore, she chuckled to herself as she turned on the shower.

 

[Guest]

Peaches

As I got the end of my recital I felt that familiar prickling agitation, I’d need a fix sooner rather than later and I still needed to pull at least a couple of punters. I’d stick to hand jobs or blowing them, no time for niceties. Fuck it!

I took my usual stroll bending to look into the cars that slowed. Finally I got a break and did a guy for more than I thought I’d get, he was drunk anyway and took forever to come so I earned it. I stuffed the money into my cleavage and went looking for Drek, my pusher.

He was lounging in Strachy Park as usual, stoned – as usual- which was good ‘cos he gave me a deal. A good night altogether.

I got to bed before four just as the sky was lightening and the bloody birds started their yammer. What the hell, I have earplugs so let ‘em yammer.

My dreams, as usual, were nightmares. Always being chased, always lost - somewhere, a maze; a strange, hostile town; a forest - lost.. I woke up with a start in a cold sweat needing a fix, like yesterday.

 

[Graybread]

Lancaster Greene

Lancaster sat in his office going over the reports he had requested. He’d been here a month now, at the request of the Board of Directors. Whatever’s wrong, fix it! they had said. The Corporation had lost six million in the last quarter and eight million the previous quarter. Over the last three years, the Corporation was down over thirty million dollars. Of course, the truth didn’t show in the reports, only that sales were down, equipment, maintenance, and building costs, were up. On the corner of his desk sat a stack of folders with a name on each.

Frank Ducan, President/CEO
Samuel Harrington, CFO
Susan Rice, Senior Corporate Lawyer
Richard Allen, Senior Corporate Lawyer
A folder for each of the Corporations five Vice Presidents, and seven folders for each of their personal assistants, excluding the two lawyers. Within each folder was the personal assets of each person, plus the assets of certain family members. Some held photographs.

“Miss Hanson,” Lancaster said, pushing the button on his phone.

“Yes Mr. Greene,” came her reply.

“Get me Harold Jacobs on the phone”

“The Chairman of the Board?” she asked.

“Yes Miss Hanson, the Chairman of the Board. Then call Calvin Wilson for me.”

Calvin Wilson, the Head of Security?” she asked again.

“Yes Miss Hanson, the Head of Security.”

“Yes Sir, right away.”

Thirty seconds later Lancaster’s phone buzzed.

“Mr. Jacobs,” he said, picking it up.

“Mr. Greene?”

“Yes Sir, is the Board assembled?”

“Yes, we’re all here.”

“Alright, give me ten minutes and I’ll nave Miss Hanson patch you through to the conference room.”

“Very well Mr. Greene.”

“Mr. Greene, I have Calvin Wilson of line two.” Miss Hanson said over the intercom.

“Mr. Wilson, it’s a go. Meet me in my office.”

“Yes Sir,” Wilson replied.

What ‘go’ meant, was a security officer was to go to the office of each of the names on the folders. Each person was allowed to neither touch his or her computer nor use their phone. They were all to be taken to the Corporate conference room immediately, no questions asked. If necessary force could be used. Calvin Wilson was at Lancaster’s office within two minutes. Lancaster met him at the door.

“Miss Hanson, would he come with us please,” he asked her, as he and the Head of Security started down the hall.

“Wha….what’s going on,” she asked, wide-eyed and curious.

“Just a little corporate shake up is all,….coming.”

“Yes Sir,” she answered, rising from her desk.

“Walk with me Miss Hanson,” Lancaster said, handing her all the folders. “May I call you Joann? That is your name isn’t it?”

Yes Sir.”

“What’s your background Joann?” he asked.

“You mean my family and all?”

“No, your business background?”

“I have none,” she replied. “I’ve been sitting at that desk for the last four years.”

“You have a degree don’t you. A Master’s in Economics’ if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yes Sir,” she said, a puzzled look on her face.

“How would you like a promotion Joann?”

“Well,….yes Sir,” she said smiling up at him.

“Good,” Lancaster said. “You’re the new CFO.”

“What!” she said stopping in the middle of the hallway.

“Come along Joann, I need you.”

“But I….not qualified….how.” she stammered.

“Oh, qualified you are Joann, maybe lacking in experience. But I’ve seen your transcripts. You’ll do just fine, with the right staff of course,….coming.”

They arrived at Frank Ducan’s office. Without hesitation, Lancaster entered, followed by Calvin Wilson and Joann.

“Lancaster, Calvin,” Frank said looking up from his desk. “What can I do for you?”

“Mr. Ducan, please come with us,” Calvin said politely.

“I’m sorry, I’m in the middle of something,” he said turning back to his computer.

Lancaster reached down and took him by the arm, raising him out of his seat, by force. Even at 220 pounds, he was nothing to Lancaster.

“Come with us Frank, NOW!”

He drug Ducan, who fought, and angrily voiced his protests, down the hall to the conference room, and tossed him in a seat. They waited another five minutes, until all who were ‘asked’ to attend, where present, seated around the large table. They were all angry and raising their voices in protest at being treated this way.

“Joann, put Mr. Jacobs on the speaker please.”

“Harold Jacobs, the Chairman of the Board?” Ducan said, rising from his chair. “Harold, I demand an explanation, what’s going on here?”

“Frank, shut up and sit down.” Mr. Jacobs said, he knew Ducan was standing, without seeing him. “Mr. Greene will be conducting this meeting, so listen up. And just to let you all know, the entire Board of Directors is sitting here in my office. Go ahead Mr. Greene.”

“Thank you Mr. Jacobs.” Lancaster said politely. “Now Ladies and Gentlemen, the first thing I want is all of your personal passwords to your computers, both here and your computers at home.”

The cacophony of protests was music to Lancaster’s ears; he loved turmoil. The protests ranged from “violation of privacy to breaking and entreaty”.

Joann,” he said quietly,” hand out the folders please.”

Miss Hanson passed out each folder, some were looked at closely, and others were just quickly scanned.

“How did you get this information,” Ducan demanded. “This is private information, I demand to know how you came by this?”

“You Mr. Ducan, are not in a position to demand anything.” Lancaster said sneering down at the man. “Your passwords please.”

“I will not! I’ll have you know I’m the President and CEO of this corporation I….”

Lancaster reached into the pocket of his Grey Sabatini suit jacket and produced an envelope. He dumped the photographs into his hand. Tossing a couple to Mr. Ducan.

“Maybe you would like me to share the rest of these pictures of you and your daughter with everyone present, Mr. Ducan?”

Ducan’s face dropped in horror as he looked at the two pictures.

“I….how….explain,” Ducan stammered.

“No need to explain Mr. Ducan,” Lancaster said smiling. “A man having sex with his daughter is quite common. She is very lovely, but then you know that don’t you.”

“You can’t do this Greene,” Susan Rice, the Senior Corporate Lawyer said, standing, from the opposite end of the table. “Its blackmail, it’s against the law. I’ll see you in jail.”

“Why Miss Rice,” Lancaster said, pulling a second envelope out of his pocket, and dumping the contents in his hand. “I believe having sex with your fourteen year old neighbor girl is also against the law,” he added, tossing the pictures toward her, scattering them the length of the table. They were quickly snatched up by those sitting there.

“I….she,” Susan Rice whispered as she sat back down, her face an emotion of shame.

“YOUR PASSWORDS,” Lancaster yelled, slamming his fist on the table. Some quickly complied, writing on any piece of paper handy. Others still hesitated. He reached into his pocket again and produced an envelope for each of them. “Ladies, gentlemen, do we need to do this?” he said quietly. “Miss Hanson, please collect the passwords for me.

Joann Hanson went from person to person and collected each password, except for Susan Rice and Frank Ducan. It seemed they both felt since they had already been shamed, they would hold out, for their own personal reasons.

“You will find, in the back of each of your folders, documents signing over all of your assets back to the corporation. That includes back accounts, stocks, real properties, 401K’s, Life Insurance, and any other holdings you have. And don’t worry, I know what holdings you have, so don’t try to cheat Mr. Jacobs, or the Board. Miss Hanson, check each document for signatures please, them bring them up here.”

Miss Hanson went from person to person, checking and collecting. When she had finished she brought them all to Lancaster.

“That’s all of them Mr. Greene, except for Mr. Ducan and Miss Rice,” she said.

“What about them?” Mr. Jacobs said over the speaker.

“I will get them as well Mr. Jacobs, you need not worry. Anything you would like to say to everyone while they’re still here, Mr. Jacobs?”

“Yes, you’re all fired! Get the hell out!”

“Thank you Mr. Jacobs, will there be anything else?” Lancaster asked.

“You will be staying on for a while, am I correct Mr. Greene?”

“Yes Mr. Jacobs, as per our agreement I will be staying until things are back to normal.” Lancaster said as he pushed the button to disconnect the call.

“You will all be escorted back to your offices, Miss Hanson will be by shortly to check and change each password. You will then be allowed to pack any personal items you have and be escorted from the building,” he said as he tossed the envelopes on the table.

They each scrambled for the one with their name on it. They opened them, most starred in disbelief.

“Mr. Wilson, collect your men please. Frank, you and Miss Rice will remain here.”

As they began to file out of the room, Lancaster stopped them short.

“Oh by the way,” he smiled, “each and everyone of those pictures has been posted on the company bulletin board by some unknown employee. Mr. Wilson, will you keep an eye on Miss Rice while I have a talk with Frank.”

He took Ducan by the arm again and lifted him out of his chair. Picking up his folder, he drug him into the adjoining office.

“Sign Frank.”

“Fuck you Greene!”

Lancaster reached over and grabbed Frank by the throat, lifting him off the floor. His skin turning it’s gray scaly color, and his eyes slitting. His sharp teeth catching the glint of the fluorescent lights. His fetid, rancid breath burning Frank’s eyes and nostrils.

“Give me your password, and sign the papers Frank,” he said in a deep angry growl. “Or I will snap your head off here and now, then I go and snap the heads off your wife and lovely children. Do we understand each other, Frank.”

Ducan’s nod was barely perceptible as the tears ran down his face. His face filled with terror and disbelief at what he was seeing. Lancaster tossed him to the floor, where he kneeled, afraid to look up.

“Sign, Frank.” Lancaster growled.

Ducan scrambled to the desk where the folder lay, quickly signing all the papers, and scribbling down his password. Lancaster stepped over to him, towering over the man, and picking up the documents with one hand. With the other, he picked Ducan up, who was sniffling and shaking with fear, holding him just inches from his face.

“Something to think about human, in the last minutes of your pitiful life. In three days, when your daughter is filled with grief at your loss, I will impregnate her. At the height of her mourning, she will conceive a grandchild for you. But sad to say, she will not survive the childbirth. She will die horribly, in much pain and suffering. But fear not, for your wife shall raise the grandchild, in squallier and extreme poverty, prostituting herself to make ends meet. Think about that human, think about what you have wrought for yourself and your family.”

He released Ducan, who fell to the floor in a mass of blubbering, crying self-pity.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” Ducan sobbed.

“No, I won’t hurt you Frank,” Lancaster said, changing back to his human form. “That’s your job.”

Lancaster reentered the conference room where Miss Rice and Calvin Wilson were.

“That will be all Mr. Wilson,” he said to Calvin as he strolled, almost catlike, around and sat on the edge of the table, next to Susan Rice. “Ready to sign now Miss Rice?”

She looked up at him, the anger flashing in her eyes. She starred up into his handsome face, then her expression changed.

“We don’t have to do this Lancaster,” she purred. “I mean, I could do favors for you.”

“Favors, what kind of favors,” he said toying with her.

“You know,….favors,” she repeated, laying her hand on his strong thigh.

“Oh, those kinds of favors,” he nodding, knowingly.

“Uh huh,” she purred again, smiling her most seductive smile.

“I would need some assurances, Susan,” he said. “You know, something that would guarantee that you would never do something like this again.”

“What ever you want,” she said sliding her hand all the way to his groin.

“Sign the papers Susan, I’ll keep them on file as your assurance.”

“You promise,” she asked.

“Trust me Susan, would I lie to you.”

She looked up at him, then at the folder. Slowly she reached for the folder and signed all the documents, sighing away everything she owned.

As she signed, Lancaster stood and unzipped his pants, pulling his semi, erect, eight-inch long, cock free, the sides bulging with heavy veins.

“On your knees Susan, I think a blow job is in order.”

She paused for only a second or two before kneeling in front of him. She did smile as she took his cock in her hand, looking up at him.

“Nice cock,” she said, licking the head. Then sucking the rest into her mouth.

He hardened to his full ten inches as she sucked him. He laid his hand on her head and pushed the full length down her throat. She gagged and tried to pull away, but he held her firm. He held her head as he stroked her mouth, letting her breath in between. When she gagged he pushed his cock farther down her throat causing her stomach to retch, then he backed off, letting her calm down. Tears ran from her eyes as she sucked him. He felt his orgasm beginning to build. As much as he would have liked to feed off her, he did not. He would just let her suck him without changing. He didn’t tell her he was about to cum, instead he just let his semen splash into her mouth, surprising her. At the same time, they heard a gunshot from down the hall. She looked up at him with questioning eyes.

“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “Just Frank playing with his gun.”

She didn’t try to swallow, but let it seep out from around his cock. He pushed his cock down her throat and came, causing her to swallow it. She gagged and her stomach retched again, but he continued to cum in her throat. Finally, he pulled his cock out and she caught her breath. He unloaded a flurry of semen on her face. It dripped down onto her expensive silk blouse. He jammed his cock into her mouth again and down her throat as he held her head in place. She beat at him with her fists, struggling to catch her breath, her eyes were filled with panic at the thought of suffocating. He held her in place as he came down he throat. Finally, she ceased to struggle, her arms dropped to her sides and her eyes slowly closed. She stopped breathing altogether. Lancaster pulled his cock from her slack throat and raised her off the floor by her hair. He blow his breath into her open mouth and she gasped for breath. He lowered her feet to the floor, but held her upright. As her breathing became normal, again he lowered her into her chair. Wiping his semen and her tears off her face, he wiped it across the corner of her mouth. She spit and struggled to free herself. He let her go.

“You fucking asshole,” she sneered. “What’d you do?”

“I just had a tiny little orgasm, Susan. You did all the work. I must say, that that is probably the best blowjob I have ever had. But alas it is time for you to go.”

“Go where?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but I do know, that if I were you, I wouldn’t go home.”

“Why?” she asked her face a mixture of emotions.

“There’s a police officer there and next door also, along with a social worker. There’re having a little chat with Brittany. You know, your neighbor girl, and your password. Pedophilia is against the law Susan. You of all people should know that.”

“But our deal…”

“I’m sorry Susan, but how can you suck my cock from prison? If I were you I’d run Susan. Run fast, there’re coming. Run Susan. Run.” He said with a lot of excitement in his voice.

She jumped up from the chair and headed for the door.

“Susan Rice?” the detective said, standing in the doorway. “Your under arrest for the molestation of a minor child. Anything you say can and will…….”

Lancaster picked up the folders and left the room, heading to his own office. He locked the folders away and decided to take the rest of the day off. The ambulance was there to take Ducan’s body away and Susan was handcuffed and on her way out the door. He picked up his briefcase and walked out the door. He was meant by Miss Hanson, her face stern and filled with anger.

“That was a horrible, horrible thing you did today, Mr. Greene,” she said starring at him.

“I know Joann,” he said, his face gentle and false compassion in his voice. “But I saw no other way to save the company. You understand don’t you?”

“I guess so,” she said lowering her eyes. “But so many lives destroyed by what you did. Mr. Ducan dead.”

“I did nothing Joann,” he said lifting her chin with the edge of his finger. “I merely brought the truth to light. How many lives would they have harmed if they had not been stopped, hundreds. Every employee of the corporation has been saved by what I did today.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said smiling weakly.

“Good,” he said smiling back at her. “Would you have dinner with me some time next week, Joann?” he asked.

She stared into his eyes and he into hers. He watched the struggle taking place behind them. Of good and evil, right and wrong, the wonder, and the intelligence, the fear and the lust.

“I’m afraid of you Mr. Greene, I’m very afraid of you, of what you can do to people.” She said without breaking eye contact. “And……yes, I’ll have dinner with you.”

“Eccellente, allora informerò Felix,” he said smiling at her.

He turned and headed down the hall. She watched him go, thinking he looked like a cat, a predator cat, stalking it’s prey. She watched him all the way to the front entrance. She watched him open the door and step out.

“Good night Lancaster,” she said softly, under her breath.

He stepped back in saying, “Buona notte a voi anche, Joann.”

He walked to his Navigator. He was excited, elated. I haven’t felt this good since,…..since Marie lost her head. he thought to himself.

As he drove through Manhattan and neared the Village, he didn’t feel the same tug as the night before. It has to be a person, he thought. Or else I would feel them. It’s not the coffee house, that’s just the hang out. What he did see was a young girl walking down the other side of the street. Her arms wrapped around herself, trying to keep warm. He knew in an instant she was the “one”, the whole reason he had been sent here. He watched her go down the sidewalk. She looked to be a drug addict, one that hooked for her fixes. He slowed the Navigator to watch her, to see where she went. He didn’t feel a draw to her, but he knew she was the “one”. The draw was to someone else he did not know. Horns began to honk as he held up traffic.

“It’s alright little mother, I know where you are know,” he said to himself. “I know where to find you, when the time comes.

He stepped on the accelerator and sped toward his penthouse.

 

[Guest]

Peaches

The cold was seeping through her thin clothes and she hugged herself tighter. No one was out tonight, only a few cars hissed past on the damp road.
Her wrists hurt tonight, the stitches seemed stretched painfully. Peaches rubbed her left wrist tenderly, there'd be a scar on each wrist to remind her how she had failed - again.
In her pocket she had the last fix, after that she'd need a john to pay for her day's sleep.

A big sleek car whispered by, slowing imperceptably. Peaches straightened slightly. This looked like money, but, to her disappointment the car sped away into the night.
In a shop doorway, out of the cold and light, Peaches gave herself her last fix, needing to do it before the shakes started.
Then, shrugging into the cold night again, she started towards the city lights.

 

[Graybread]

Lancaster Greene

Lancaster was in his apartment, pacing back and forth, as he stroked his chin between his fingers and thumb. Wagner was playing but he didn’t hear his mind was elsewhere. He had found his ‘little mother’, now he had to persuade her.

That will be no problem, he thought. I can move her in here, supply her with all the drugs she can handle and she will be mine (ours, he corrected himself), in no time.

“Felix,” he called, picking his jacket up off the back of the leather chair. “I’m going out.”

“Should I wait up Sir,” Felix asked from the kitchen area.

“No, not tonight my friend, I want be needing you.”

“Very well Sir.”

Lancaster made his way to the parking garage and into the Navigator. He headed down the street to where he had seen her last. He drove past the coffee shop and felt the tug, strong this time, very strong. Nevertheless, he continued to look for the ‘little mother’. He found her three blocks down from the coffee shop. She was bent over talking to a fat, balding man in a Ford Escort. He stopped his Navigator in the middle of the street and got out. The horn of the cabbie behind him stated to blare.

“Hey, move it Mac, this aint no fuckin parking lot.”

Lancaster stopped and turning his back to the girl, his eyes slitting as he stepped toward the cabbie.

“The name is not Mac, Mac,” he said in a low rumbling growl only the cabbie could hear. “And if you want to remain in this world you will stop that incessant noise.”

The cabbies eyes widened, and his face paled as he stared at Lancaster, before dropping the transmission into reverse and slamming into the taxi behind him. He put it in drive and screeched around the Navigator. The second cabbie stared at Lancaster before driving around him also, giving him the finger once he was past.

Lancaster turned back to the girl, his eyes, and voice normal. He approached her, taking her arm gently but forcibly, pulling her away from the Escort.

“Hi,” he said, very casual. “I noticed you earlier tonight and was wondering if you would care to join me.” He felt the tug to the coffee shop again, strong. “I think you’re very lovely and…..”

“What the fuck do ya think yer doing buddy,” the fat man in the Escort interrupted. “This hooker’s mine, go git yer own.”

Lancaster pulled the girl across in front of him, at the same time reaching in and slamming the fat mans face against the steering wheel, breaking his nose. He led her up to the sidewalk. The tug to the coffee shop was very strong.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized for the interruption, “but as I was saying. I think you are very lovely and I would like to hire you for….” He stopped and looked down the street, distracted. “I’m sorry again,” he said, “but I have to go.” Please take this,” he said, pulling his wallet out of his suit jacket and handing her five, one hundred dollar bills. “And….and don’t fuck any more of those scum,” he said, placing the money in her hand, looking at the bleeding fat man in the Escort. “And stay around,” he said backing way from her. “I’ll find you, stay around.”

Lancaster rushed back to the Navigator and sped down the street.

What is this thing that draws me, he asked himself.

He luckily found a parking slot just eight doors down from the coffee shop and pulled in. He briskly walked to the shop and entered, scanning the interior quickly for the source demanding his attention. Then he saw her, he knew in an instant it was she. She was not beautiful, but there was something, something else. Her hair hung in brown curls to her shoulders, but she had a sparkle in her eyes. Even though they had never met he knew her, she was Armaita, one of the seven Amesha Spentas. He slowly walked to her table and stood there for a short moment before speaking.

“Why do you bid me child of Goodness,” he said, contempt in his voice. “Does thou not know who I am?”

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Armaita (for that was her angelic name)...

looked up and grinned. "Well, well, well. What have we here? Nermal, is it? Your boss got you slumming? Not good enough for the big jobs in Vegas anymore?" Ignoring his question, Armaita took a drag off her cigarette and blinked innocently, blowing smoke rings, like tiny haloes, in his direction.

Nergal's eyes flared red, but much to his discomposure she merely smiled back. "You're only a second-rate scoundrel. What are you doing here? Punishment for a job badly done? I can't imagine there being anyone here that is worth your boss' time and energy. Slim pickins round these parts."

If Nergal's boss had sent anyone other, Armaita would have been a little agitated, but not overly concerned. But Lancaster Green? Not that the particular soul in contention wasn't important. In her eyes, they were all equally important... but she couldn't help wondering who had drawn his boss' attention. And why.

Angela raised her hand, beckoning for Lisa to come over to the table. "Two coffees, Lisa. Please." She noticed the waitress eyeing her companion. He was handsome in a devilish sort of way.

Chuckling at her private joke, Angela introduced them, adding in a loud whisper "You don't want to mess with him, Lisa. He's happily married with six kids." Lisa shrugged and asked if they would like something to go with their coffee.

Lancaster started to answer, but Angela interrupted. "Umm... You still have... crow?"

Lisa, ever the willing straight man, answered "Sorry, Ange. All out of that. How about something decadent?"

"Decadent. Hmmm... Why yes. I think we'll have some of that delicious devil's food cake you were touting earlier." She smiled at Lancaster Green once again. "You do eat devil's food, right Lan?"

 

[Guest]

Peaches

http://www.lucylasticslair.com/avs/megas/face/lumegfc130.gif




Peaches shivered in the frigging cold. Slow night and she was starting to get jiggy. She was on the edge of The Village and starting to think she’d have to go beg off Ange again when a Ford pulled up.

The driver looked like her Dad, but then, so did 90% of her johns. She leant on the car, letting him get a glimpse of the girls. “Hi, Honey. Want a date?” She said trying to sound real casual. Let them see desperation and they got you where they think they want you.

This guy – kinda fat, kinda seedy – was just going through the usual “john-routine” when a fucking great Hummer pulls up bang in the middle of the street, cabs and such screaming all around. The driver of the Navi. Gets out and has words with the cab driver behind him who takes off like a rocket, infact they all peel off like grease….amazing.

So, there she was, standing with her chin on the ground, wondering what the fuck’s going on when the driver walks over and takes her arm.

She had this feeling she was floating…like she’d just hit up. One minute she was bracing for yet another load of cum in her hand and the next she’s getting an unnatural high.

“I noticed you…” “join me….” “very lovely….” Words floated around her confused head, and then just as suddenly she was in his incredibly strong arms looking down at Escort clutching his bleeding nose.

This new punter, a good looking dude, certainly more tasty than Fatty in the Escort - who was moaning blood-bubbles out his nose – the new guy mumbled something about Peaches being pretty, wanting to hire her!

He took a wad of cash out of his wallet and pressed it into her frozen hand, told her to wait for him, that he’d find her and no more losers.

Peaches was stunned. Her need forgotten she stared at the bills in her hand as the Navigator eased smoothly into the Manhattan traffic. She had to tell Angie, she’d never believe that Peaches got five big ones legit. She looked up and down the wind swept street vaguely aware of the Ford pulling slowly away.

The money felt warm in her hand. She tucked it, automatically, into her cleavage and set off for The Chair and Ange, maybe, on the way, she’d score a hit – Christ! She could afford it now. Peaches laughed out loud, it was the laugh of a delighted child.

 

[Graybread]

Lancaster Greene

“I eat what I want,” Lancaster said angrily, looking down at Lisa, “but it’s mostly sweet little girls like you. Now leave us!”

By rights he should have turned and left the coffee shop, but he didn’t, he was held by something he didn’t understand, something new to him. He pulled out a chair and sat down, ignoring the barbs that Armaita cast at him.

“As for ‘my Boss’, he could trust no other in this situation. I am the best Armaita, as you shall see. You think that you can protect her, but you cannot, she will be mine, and you and ‘your Boss’ will lose. You will lose it all Armaita, for eternity.”

Lisa returned with the two coffee’s, sitting Angela’s down in front of her first.

“Watch and learn child,” Lancaster said to Armaita.

As Lisa sat his coffee down, Lancaster stood and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he said pleasantly. “Would you forgive me by dining with me this evening and then sex later.”

A shudder ran through Lisa’s body as she looked into his eyes.

“Yes,” she said weakly.

“Good, now go about your duties,” he said, releasing his touch. He had no intentions of dining with her, she was not pure and had no innocence, but he wanted to prove his point to Armaita.

Lisa shook her head and slowly walked away from the table, looking back over her shoulder as she went.

“She is mine for the taking Armaita,” he said sitting back down. “They are all mine and you can do nothing to stop me.”

Angela sipped her coffee calmly, then took another drag on her cigarette, blowing smoke halos at him again.

“Who is ‘she’, Nermal,” her eyes sparkling as she teased him.

Lancaster caught the sparkle and it agitated him again. Not that her teasing did, but there was something there he could not place his finger on. Something about her that drew him.

He picked his coffee up and sipped it.

“Just a cheap prostitute,” he commented. “A drug addict that hooks for her fixes. No one you need concern yourself with. She is dead already.”

“If she were dead, you wouldn’t be here Nergal,” Angela said leaning across the table. “Ha,” she laughed. “You don’t have her do you.”

“You mock me ‘Child of Goodness’,” Lancaster said angrily, his eyes turning to slits. “She is here,” he added with a growl, raising his clenched fist to her.

Angela leaned back in her chair and smiled at him, her eyes twinkling.

Lancaster sat there, his fist still clenched but his anger gone, his eyes normal.

What…. He thought to himself. She does not have that kind of power over me. But she has….something. He watched the twinkle in her eye and smiled back at her.

 

[Guest]

Peaches

Peaches scored a hit only half a block along Bleecker Street close to NYU. She huddled in a bus shelter and took it right away, the whole thing. She could afford to be extravagant now. It was pure stuff that hit her like a tidal bore. She sat in the shelter, waving bus after bus away until her head cleared a little.

Angie! She had to get to the café and tell her what had happened. Her life was going to be different now. No more hooking! She had a job! Peaches let gave another delighted laugh and drew her collar up to her ears. She would kick her habit -- get clean! Oh, yeah! Things were going to get better all right!

She increased her pace, ignoring the cars cruising beside her and the urgent whistles. Her “regulars” could suck their own cocks now.

In the distance and across the street Peaches could see the familiar neon coffee cup over the Comfy Chair. She jaywalked across the busy street through the honking traffic, smiling and flipping the finger at the angry faces. Ange was going to wet her pants when Peaches told her about that smooth dude and his money – her money now!

The windows of the café were steamed and streaked with condensation but she could see it wasn’t a busy night, only three or four tables taken. She pulled the door open and felt the steamy, sweet blast of coffee; sweet buns and conversation hit her. She stood at the door as it swung shut behind her with the familiar jingle and looked around. There was Ange! Shit, she was with someone. A man in a dark suit sat with his back to Peaches and Angela was absorbed in her conversation with him.

Peaches raised a hand, waved it, trying to catch Angela’s eye. Instead that ditzy broad, Lisa waved cheerily back. Peaches shrugged out of her coat an walked to where Lisa was cleaning the counter half-heartedly. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Angie, waiting for her to break her gaze from that guy. He must be some kinda sexy for old Ange to be so fascinated, thought Peaches as she took a stool at the counter and grasped the coffee Lisa poured.


.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Angela/Armaita

The Amesha Spenta observed Nergal's ineffectual display of machismo with a bemused look on her face. It was a filibuster if she had ever heard one. The demon was almost too cocksure. What was it that Solly had said in that book he wrote? Oh, yes. Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall. If she had anything to do with it, and she was sure that she did, Lancaster Green was going to land flat on his face.

Armaita couldn't help wondering if he realized that his annoyance and frustration were showing in his aura. Tiny flames were flickering and dancing all around him as Nergal strove to calm himself. Unable to resist, she pulled out a cigarette and held it toward him. "Light me up will you, Narwhal?"

His eyes narrowed and she smiled innocently in response. "Nevermind. I can do it myself." She placed the cigarette in her mouth and following a subtle flick of her wrist, a flame appeared at the tip of her thumb.

"What do they call them?" she asked. "Lucifers, I think." Armaita held his gaze as she lit up and then blew gently, putting out the non-existent match with a mocking arch of an eyebrow.

"You know, skeezicks... " Angela took a deep drag of her cigarette. "You're not so hot after all. Why don't you tell me what really brings you to my neck of the woods?"

She pondered -- and not for the first time since Lancaster Green had walked through the door of The Comfy Chair -- over whether he truly knew what his purpose here was. Their conversation was interrupted by Lisa who was chittering inanely as she placed two enormous slices of devil's food cake in front of them.

"Yummy," Angela grinned. "Eat up, Lan and enjoy. Next round it will be crow."

 

[Graybread]

Lancaster Greene

Angela took a deep drag of her cigarette. “You're not so hot after all. Why don't you tell me what really brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“Ha,” Lancaster laughed, though lacking any humor. “So, your ‘Boss’ isn’t so damned omnipotent as he would have his ‘sheep’ believe. Or is it that he does not trust his minions with that knowledge, knowing you lack the skill to stop me.”

Lancaster leaned back in his chair, picking up the cup of hot steaming coffee, brought it to his mouth, and drank the hot liquid straight down.

“Cold,” he sneered, casually tossing the cup back on it saucer, but with enough force that it fell over onto the table. “Cold, much like the blood the flows the thy veins Armaita, you lack passion, as do all the Amesha Spentas. You sit and play your little parlor tricks while your world crumbles around your self righteous ass.”

He sat forward and leaned closer to her, his eyes turning to slits again.

“Look around you blind child, see what I and mine have wrought. Your sheep thirst for the blood of each other. “Thou shall not kill.” Your sheep care not for ‘His’ commandments Armaita, murder, and death are on the rise. “Thou shall not bear false witness against thy neighbors.” “Ha,” he mocked again. “From the highest offices, of all of the lands, to the smallest child just learning to speak you lie to each other.” He smiled at her, “But then that’s my little parlor trick, isn’t it.”

He rested his elbows on the table and made a platform with his hands to rest his chin on.

“But then there is my personal favorite. “Thou shall have no other Gods before me.” “Lesser gods and demigods run rampant through the hearts and minds of all your sheep Armaita. Money, power, drugs, sex, these are their Gods Armaita, not ‘Him’. On any street corner you can find a drug dealer, and what is he selling, ‘drugs’, I think not. He is selling lies Armaita, my lies. Dreams and hope in a needle, an escape from reality, a reality that you would have them live in.”

Lancaster threw his head back and laughed, a deep profane laugh that bounced off the walls of the coffee shop. Everyone startled and stared, some cringed, and shrunk away as they heard the profanity in it.

“HAAAAA HAAAA HAAAAAAAAAA HAAAAAAAAAAA,” he roared! You lack passion Armaita, passion for your sheep,” he said, staring at her, his teeth sharp and pointed. Come Amesha Spentas, come and sit on my lap for an hour and I shall fill you will passion,” he laughed, his voice mirthful. “You are ineffectual against me, Armaita, you do not know what power is. In an instant I could take all these souls and you could not stop me,” as he swept his arm and face about the room.

His eyes landed on Peaches sitting at the coffee bar. In an instant his face was normal and he was again Lancaster Greene. He stood as he continued to look at her.

“You want to know why I am here,” he said to Angela, without looking down at her.

He glided across the floor like a predatory cat and stood in front of Peaches. He gently cupped her chin in his hand and smiled at her, exuding charm and masculinity.

“So soon we meet again, ‘little mother’. How very lovely you are.” The words dripped from his tongue like honey from the comb. “My offer is still open, work for me, I will make all your dreams, and hopes come to reality. Abandon this mundane life, and live one of luxury at the top of the world. I can give you what your heart desires, ‘little mother’ you need but make the choice.”

He released her chin and left the coffee shop. The Devil’s food cake, still sitting on the table, untouched.