AmbrosiaCaress
Phoenix Rising!!!
- Joined
- Mar 30, 2005
- Posts
- 4,658
Hello all...
This is the start to a story regarding a Witness who has fled the Country, for her own protection. What I am looking for is a Male Co-Writer to work thru this story with. I am thinking he would be a Killer, hired to seek her out and kill her. I want this story to be dark, have elements of fear, rape, force, dominance, mind games, among other things.. (in other words, no soft and cuddly romance here)
Please be a well versed Writer. Post more than a paragraph, tell me who your character is, why he is, what is he thinking, doing etc. Please check out my other stories to get a sense of my writing style, specifically Goblins and The Art Of Enslavement... Also please read my SRP (link in my signature)...
Please PM me your interest with a character idea and we can chat... I have no real idea where the story is going to go beyond him tracking her to Tahiti and making contact. Once I get a Co-Writer, I will write another post of Samantha in Tahiti, etc, and we can proceed from there...
PM me.. let's talk...
PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS ROLE HAS BEEN FILLED... THIS STORY IS NOW CLOSED FOR EVOLUTIONS AND MYSELF
THANKS
--------------------------------------------------------------
She had been in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Well, it really wasn't the wrong place, she lived here. But is most definitely was the wrong time. More than once, she wished she had never been there. More than once, she wished it was all just a nightmare she could awaken from. More than once, she wished it was a movie she was watching. The wrong place at the wrong time sounded like a Hitchcock movie title, that was for sure.
It had all started so innocently.
Samantha stepped out onto her balcony. It had been a long night at the Presidential Ball. A night of dancing. A night of good food and fine wine. A night to mix and mingle with the various dignitaries that always populated such an event. And she had met her share, that was for sure. This particular night, she had met Senators, Congressmen, Armed Service Generals and Colonels. It had been an exciting, fun filled, and quite wonderful night for the 21 year old, but now it had come to an end. She was tired, and was happy to allow a certain General to escort her to her Penthouse, less than a mile away. He spoke of his adventures, told her of his travels to far away countries and lifestyles. Recalled his encounters in war and peace, and even boasted of his piloting days. Samantha listened and in fact, was genuinely interested. He was a handsome, engaging man, this General, even if he was too old for her. But someday she wanted to travel. Out of New York. She wanted to see those other countries, lifestyles, people. She wanted to experience some of the life he now spoke about.
But for this night, her traveling was limited to the walk to her Penthouse, with the General at her side.
He was pouring her a drink, a nightcap, and she had stepped out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air. Her Penthouse overlooked the grand expanse of Central Park. The most beautiful park in the midst of the most beautiful city in the world. At least to Samantha. She loved New York. She fell in love the moment she had stepped off the plane, when she was nothing but a child. That love had never faded. In fact, she loved New York more now than she ever had.
This particular night was warm, clear, a beautiful summer night in New York. Her view, was one of most spectacular in the city. She was only on the 25th floor, of course that being the top floor. She liked being able to see Central Park and beyond so easily. High enough for the gorgeous view, yet she could still the people.... could still watch the world go by, something she very much enjoyed doing. This particular night, as Samantha stood on her balcony, awaiting her nightcap, she heard something. And she heard it clearly. It took her only a second to follow the sound, peering down onto the balcony that was below and to the right of hers... It happened so fast, yet so agonizingly slow... A woman, a man. He was strangling her, she was vainly trying fight, to scratch his eyes, face, anything. Another man suddenly appeared on the balcony.. A gun lifted, and Samantha saw the small flash as the shot, silenced, entered the woman's left eye. She never even had time to gasp, before she fell over dead. The men stepped back, talking to each other. Samantha could not hear what was said, but even if she could, more than likely it never would have registered, due to the sudden shock that overtook her. She had gotten a good look at the dead woman. A really good look. That dead woman was the President, yes the President of the United States. Samantha had heard that she had attended the Ball, a gala event held in her honor, but she had not seen her among the crowd. Then... why was she, the President, here, in her Penthouse complex?? And what... just happened?
What Sam did not know was that the President had been kidnapped, and taken to that Suite. Taken there to be questioned and then, assassinated. Sam saw the latter, obviously.
Samantha slapped her hand over her mouth to silence her own scream, but, it was too late. The men looked up, hearing something, sensing something. She managed to get a very good look at them, before she ran back into her Penthouse.
The General did not quite understand or believe what she was babbling about. He had enjoyed a bit more wine, among other beverages that night, than Samantha had. And was almost giddy at the possibility of bedding a stunningly beautiful 21 year old. And beautiful she was, with her wild mane of ebon black hair, neatly pulled back into a long braid this particular night, and her equally dark eyes. She was slender, with long legs, and the smoothest skin, a shade dark, as if she had been in the sun for the day.
http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a360/AmbrosiaCaress/BlackandWhiteGurl.jpg
So to say he was distracted was an understatement. But Sam managed to convince him to call the police.
The Body was found, the body of the first female President of the United States. And Samantha, well, she was whisked away. A Witness, she was the only Witness to the murder of the century.
"The only Witness to the assassination of Madam President, a socialite, Samantha Anne Jonah, daughter of the late oil tycoon, Earl Jonah." the newcasters blathered and intoned, on and on. "Where is she? What did she see? And who is this Witness? What do we know about her?" "Samantha Jonah, party girl, now the most important person in the United States at this moment" On and on it went... for months..
And for months, Samantha was kept under lock and key. Hidden. Protected. Her description had helped catch both Killers...which lead to the man who had funded the Assissnation. Then, there was the Trial, the Trial of the Century, of the millenium. The only problem was, these Killers had connections. Important connections. Once she came out into the open for the trial, her life, as she knew it, would be over. The Judge, that very Judge for that trial, was part of the network of connections that the Killers and those that funded and supported them had. Some said it was a Government assassination, to silence a powerful Woman that none could control.
That mattered not to Samantha. Only her life mattered and that was in danger. That much she knew. No one could be trusted anymore. No one. And she knew that.
The General who had escorted her that night, was found dead in his home. It looked like a suicide, the gun placed in his mouth, the back of his head blown off. It was only a matter of time before they got to her... The Government couldn't keep her safe. Not anymore. The Police couldn't keep her safe. They were coming for her, and she knew it. She was no longer safe, the closer the Trial came, the more dangerous it was for her.... She had to get away... as far away as she could... from the Government, from the Police, from New York, from the Killers...
She didn't know what to do.. where to go... so she left, sneaking out of the safe house in the dead of night. She took nothing, except the clothes on her back, and the money, a considerable sum, that she withdrew from her bank account at first light that morning. Samantha left the City she loved.... New York... taking the first flight she could, under another name, paying in cash, hoping no one would recognize her this early morning. Most of the published pictures of the Witness, were her at the Ball, or at another event, usually in a gown of some sort, she all "glammed" up for said event. This particular morning, Sam was in jeans, a white tee, and no makeup. She did not arouse any suspician. She booked the first flight to the furthest place she could think of... Tahiti.. an island paradise.
She had no other choice, she was a Witness.....
This is the start to a story regarding a Witness who has fled the Country, for her own protection. What I am looking for is a Male Co-Writer to work thru this story with. I am thinking he would be a Killer, hired to seek her out and kill her. I want this story to be dark, have elements of fear, rape, force, dominance, mind games, among other things.. (in other words, no soft and cuddly romance here)
Please be a well versed Writer. Post more than a paragraph, tell me who your character is, why he is, what is he thinking, doing etc. Please check out my other stories to get a sense of my writing style, specifically Goblins and The Art Of Enslavement... Also please read my SRP (link in my signature)...
Please PM me your interest with a character idea and we can chat... I have no real idea where the story is going to go beyond him tracking her to Tahiti and making contact. Once I get a Co-Writer, I will write another post of Samantha in Tahiti, etc, and we can proceed from there...
PM me.. let's talk...
PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS ROLE HAS BEEN FILLED... THIS STORY IS NOW CLOSED FOR EVOLUTIONS AND MYSELF
THANKS
--------------------------------------------------------------
She had been in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Well, it really wasn't the wrong place, she lived here. But is most definitely was the wrong time. More than once, she wished she had never been there. More than once, she wished it was all just a nightmare she could awaken from. More than once, she wished it was a movie she was watching. The wrong place at the wrong time sounded like a Hitchcock movie title, that was for sure.
It had all started so innocently.
Samantha stepped out onto her balcony. It had been a long night at the Presidential Ball. A night of dancing. A night of good food and fine wine. A night to mix and mingle with the various dignitaries that always populated such an event. And she had met her share, that was for sure. This particular night, she had met Senators, Congressmen, Armed Service Generals and Colonels. It had been an exciting, fun filled, and quite wonderful night for the 21 year old, but now it had come to an end. She was tired, and was happy to allow a certain General to escort her to her Penthouse, less than a mile away. He spoke of his adventures, told her of his travels to far away countries and lifestyles. Recalled his encounters in war and peace, and even boasted of his piloting days. Samantha listened and in fact, was genuinely interested. He was a handsome, engaging man, this General, even if he was too old for her. But someday she wanted to travel. Out of New York. She wanted to see those other countries, lifestyles, people. She wanted to experience some of the life he now spoke about.
But for this night, her traveling was limited to the walk to her Penthouse, with the General at her side.
He was pouring her a drink, a nightcap, and she had stepped out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air. Her Penthouse overlooked the grand expanse of Central Park. The most beautiful park in the midst of the most beautiful city in the world. At least to Samantha. She loved New York. She fell in love the moment she had stepped off the plane, when she was nothing but a child. That love had never faded. In fact, she loved New York more now than she ever had.
This particular night was warm, clear, a beautiful summer night in New York. Her view, was one of most spectacular in the city. She was only on the 25th floor, of course that being the top floor. She liked being able to see Central Park and beyond so easily. High enough for the gorgeous view, yet she could still the people.... could still watch the world go by, something she very much enjoyed doing. This particular night, as Samantha stood on her balcony, awaiting her nightcap, she heard something. And she heard it clearly. It took her only a second to follow the sound, peering down onto the balcony that was below and to the right of hers... It happened so fast, yet so agonizingly slow... A woman, a man. He was strangling her, she was vainly trying fight, to scratch his eyes, face, anything. Another man suddenly appeared on the balcony.. A gun lifted, and Samantha saw the small flash as the shot, silenced, entered the woman's left eye. She never even had time to gasp, before she fell over dead. The men stepped back, talking to each other. Samantha could not hear what was said, but even if she could, more than likely it never would have registered, due to the sudden shock that overtook her. She had gotten a good look at the dead woman. A really good look. That dead woman was the President, yes the President of the United States. Samantha had heard that she had attended the Ball, a gala event held in her honor, but she had not seen her among the crowd. Then... why was she, the President, here, in her Penthouse complex?? And what... just happened?
What Sam did not know was that the President had been kidnapped, and taken to that Suite. Taken there to be questioned and then, assassinated. Sam saw the latter, obviously.
Samantha slapped her hand over her mouth to silence her own scream, but, it was too late. The men looked up, hearing something, sensing something. She managed to get a very good look at them, before she ran back into her Penthouse.
The General did not quite understand or believe what she was babbling about. He had enjoyed a bit more wine, among other beverages that night, than Samantha had. And was almost giddy at the possibility of bedding a stunningly beautiful 21 year old. And beautiful she was, with her wild mane of ebon black hair, neatly pulled back into a long braid this particular night, and her equally dark eyes. She was slender, with long legs, and the smoothest skin, a shade dark, as if she had been in the sun for the day.
http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a360/AmbrosiaCaress/BlackandWhiteGurl.jpg
So to say he was distracted was an understatement. But Sam managed to convince him to call the police.
The Body was found, the body of the first female President of the United States. And Samantha, well, she was whisked away. A Witness, she was the only Witness to the murder of the century.
"The only Witness to the assassination of Madam President, a socialite, Samantha Anne Jonah, daughter of the late oil tycoon, Earl Jonah." the newcasters blathered and intoned, on and on. "Where is she? What did she see? And who is this Witness? What do we know about her?" "Samantha Jonah, party girl, now the most important person in the United States at this moment" On and on it went... for months..
And for months, Samantha was kept under lock and key. Hidden. Protected. Her description had helped catch both Killers...which lead to the man who had funded the Assissnation. Then, there was the Trial, the Trial of the Century, of the millenium. The only problem was, these Killers had connections. Important connections. Once she came out into the open for the trial, her life, as she knew it, would be over. The Judge, that very Judge for that trial, was part of the network of connections that the Killers and those that funded and supported them had. Some said it was a Government assassination, to silence a powerful Woman that none could control.
That mattered not to Samantha. Only her life mattered and that was in danger. That much she knew. No one could be trusted anymore. No one. And she knew that.
The General who had escorted her that night, was found dead in his home. It looked like a suicide, the gun placed in his mouth, the back of his head blown off. It was only a matter of time before they got to her... The Government couldn't keep her safe. Not anymore. The Police couldn't keep her safe. They were coming for her, and she knew it. She was no longer safe, the closer the Trial came, the more dangerous it was for her.... She had to get away... as far away as she could... from the Government, from the Police, from New York, from the Killers...
She didn't know what to do.. where to go... so she left, sneaking out of the safe house in the dead of night. She took nothing, except the clothes on her back, and the money, a considerable sum, that she withdrew from her bank account at first light that morning. Samantha left the City she loved.... New York... taking the first flight she could, under another name, paying in cash, hoping no one would recognize her this early morning. Most of the published pictures of the Witness, were her at the Ball, or at another event, usually in a gown of some sort, she all "glammed" up for said event. This particular morning, Sam was in jeans, a white tee, and no makeup. She did not arouse any suspician. She booked the first flight to the furthest place she could think of... Tahiti.. an island paradise.
She had no other choice, she was a Witness.....
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