satindesire
Queen of Geeks
- Joined
- Apr 19, 2005
- Posts
- 13,101
Stress. An all-too-human feeling, one that through the years even she could not escape. Boredom wore like water on rock, chipping away at her sanity so slowly that once it was noticed, chaos had already begun to erode the smooth, well-maintained facade and gave a glimpse of the disorder beneath. The help had begun to notice her temper, her shortness, her hunger which had the servants scrambling to slake, even going so far as to allow their own throats the honor of tasting her Thirst, when the ghouls bred for that purpose were exhausted. Then, one evening, one of her guards grew bold enough to suggest a trip down south, to the warmer clime of the islands...to get away from the snow and the dragging hours. To drink her fill of Native blood, which was fresh and spiced with fear.
At first, she was enraged at his boldness, but before the first blow of her wrath was landed, the logic in such an ideal struck her. Dismissing the guard, she felt the first flush of excitement, the promise of a meal that was not bland with plain sexual desire like the charming but all-too-willing slaves, but hot with true terror. Ordering the VTOL refueled and de-iced, she had Chloe pack a carry on with warm weather clothes. In a matter of a few hours, the memory of the Northern wastes to which she had been banished to, and it’s endless barren ice storms, would be nothing more than a bitter memory.
Landing at the FireStone Interisland airport, The concierge had a limo waiting to take her to the Jasmine fetish club. The evening had fallen hot and clear and the moon, full and swollen yellow like a faux sun, shone down like an unblinking eye as she changed from the mink-trimmed chinchilla and snow boots to a thin lace slipdress, tied corset-style on the indecently sheer front.
It was packed, as per the usual, but her VIP status was convincing enough for the front bouncer. Pausing at the entrance, she took in the aromas...leather and PVC, which glittered on each nubile young Island body, reflecting the low overhead lighting like a thousand and one tiny stars. Black was everywhere, the color of choice for clothes, cosmetics and hair, and dusky goldenbrown skin gleamed young and healthy beneath the most scanty claddings she'd seen in some time. Fragrances in male and female quantity did not cut the undercurrent of sexual desire and the smoke of several hundred cigarettes.
It felt like home.
Beside herself with the opportunities that awaited her, she was accosted before she could make it to the VIP balcony by a very high young woman, her short, bleach-blonde pixie haircut framing a face that looked as fresh as a drink of spring water. Her pupils were hugely dilated, the scent of pot and ecstasy hot in her blood. Her fang sharp on her lip, she accepted the snug embrace from the stranger, the burning skin of the young woman reminding her of -why- she was here. It wasn't to just enjoy the veiw.
The girl wandered off, hugging more people on the way to the bar.
Watching her leave long enough to ensure a good view of the girl's backside held in skintight, glossy black leather, she flashed the VIP ID to the balcony bouncer and was let behind the heavy, crimson velvet curtains.
Inside, it was like another world.
Her private den, kept generally just for her, was spread out in a luscious medieval-torture-chamber fantasyland, candelabras the only source of light which cast gold highlights on rich black marble floors and onyx glass furnishings, bits of genuine gold on a wine chalice or door handle the only other color.
Just like her home back in the old country. Gods, she missed it. There were a few select here, a bartender watching over her private stock, a few carefully chosen young men and women that had caught her fancy at one time or another...the surprise she saw on their faces let her know just how long it had been since last she visited.
A small group gathered around her, talking all at once, tumbling words like overexcited kittens drowning her in a flood of desire and happiness, warming her blood. Feeling strangely magnanimous, she waved them off instead of setting off to feed, wondering why these beautiful creatures did not seem to interest her anymore.
The bartender offered her a glass of wine, which she refused, a bitter taste settling on her tongue. The Thirst was rising hard, insisting...she would have done anything to blunt the terrible edge of that need. But it would take someone of a special caliber to do so, tonight.
~~~~~~~~*{RULES AND REGS}*~~~~~~~~~~
No Character Sheets. If you can't adequately describe your character via RP, then this isn't the thread for you.
No OOC will be tolerated. Any OOC messages should be relayed via PMs.
No E-Drama! Mature and Experienced Roleplayers only!
Feel free to play a Vampire, Ghoul, or Human at your own pace. However, the Jasmine fetish club should be your first stop. I like to make a thread with a good pace, so don't fall behind!
If you have creative difficulties or need a hand dealing with another player, please contact me. I will be more than happy to lend a hand in the RP process or otherwise.
Good luck and Happy Hunting!
At first, she was enraged at his boldness, but before the first blow of her wrath was landed, the logic in such an ideal struck her. Dismissing the guard, she felt the first flush of excitement, the promise of a meal that was not bland with plain sexual desire like the charming but all-too-willing slaves, but hot with true terror. Ordering the VTOL refueled and de-iced, she had Chloe pack a carry on with warm weather clothes. In a matter of a few hours, the memory of the Northern wastes to which she had been banished to, and it’s endless barren ice storms, would be nothing more than a bitter memory.
Landing at the FireStone Interisland airport, The concierge had a limo waiting to take her to the Jasmine fetish club. The evening had fallen hot and clear and the moon, full and swollen yellow like a faux sun, shone down like an unblinking eye as she changed from the mink-trimmed chinchilla and snow boots to a thin lace slipdress, tied corset-style on the indecently sheer front.
It was packed, as per the usual, but her VIP status was convincing enough for the front bouncer. Pausing at the entrance, she took in the aromas...leather and PVC, which glittered on each nubile young Island body, reflecting the low overhead lighting like a thousand and one tiny stars. Black was everywhere, the color of choice for clothes, cosmetics and hair, and dusky goldenbrown skin gleamed young and healthy beneath the most scanty claddings she'd seen in some time. Fragrances in male and female quantity did not cut the undercurrent of sexual desire and the smoke of several hundred cigarettes.
It felt like home.
Beside herself with the opportunities that awaited her, she was accosted before she could make it to the VIP balcony by a very high young woman, her short, bleach-blonde pixie haircut framing a face that looked as fresh as a drink of spring water. Her pupils were hugely dilated, the scent of pot and ecstasy hot in her blood. Her fang sharp on her lip, she accepted the snug embrace from the stranger, the burning skin of the young woman reminding her of -why- she was here. It wasn't to just enjoy the veiw.
The girl wandered off, hugging more people on the way to the bar.
Watching her leave long enough to ensure a good view of the girl's backside held in skintight, glossy black leather, she flashed the VIP ID to the balcony bouncer and was let behind the heavy, crimson velvet curtains.
Inside, it was like another world.
Her private den, kept generally just for her, was spread out in a luscious medieval-torture-chamber fantasyland, candelabras the only source of light which cast gold highlights on rich black marble floors and onyx glass furnishings, bits of genuine gold on a wine chalice or door handle the only other color.
Just like her home back in the old country. Gods, she missed it. There were a few select here, a bartender watching over her private stock, a few carefully chosen young men and women that had caught her fancy at one time or another...the surprise she saw on their faces let her know just how long it had been since last she visited.
A small group gathered around her, talking all at once, tumbling words like overexcited kittens drowning her in a flood of desire and happiness, warming her blood. Feeling strangely magnanimous, she waved them off instead of setting off to feed, wondering why these beautiful creatures did not seem to interest her anymore.
The bartender offered her a glass of wine, which she refused, a bitter taste settling on her tongue. The Thirst was rising hard, insisting...she would have done anything to blunt the terrible edge of that need. But it would take someone of a special caliber to do so, tonight.
~~~~~~~~*{RULES AND REGS}*~~~~~~~~~~
No Character Sheets. If you can't adequately describe your character via RP, then this isn't the thread for you.
No OOC will be tolerated. Any OOC messages should be relayed via PMs.
No E-Drama! Mature and Experienced Roleplayers only!
Feel free to play a Vampire, Ghoul, or Human at your own pace. However, the Jasmine fetish club should be your first stop. I like to make a thread with a good pace, so don't fall behind!
If you have creative difficulties or need a hand dealing with another player, please contact me. I will be more than happy to lend a hand in the RP process or otherwise.
Good luck and Happy Hunting!
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