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LIE WITH YOUR BONES -> HOUSE ON A HILL [M]
 
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 HOUSE ON A HILL [M], Carla and Aries
CARLA
 Posted: Jul 16 2015, 11:37 PM
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ENSLAVED
N/A
Pit Slave
LUKE
9 POSTS

Venatrix Appropinquit


CARLA
CHAMPION OF THE PIT



YAAAS GIVE IT TO ME
I am not afraid, I won't burn out in this place.
My intention is to fade and I will, I will.
Smoke drifted lazily from her nostrils, the bathroom dingy and unclean – peeling linoleum and the spider-webbed cracks of the mirror, arching in all directions, marring anyone’s reflection who cared enough to bother with looking. Lifting the cigarette to her lips, she dragged hard on the vapor – letting the death fill her lungs, a new strain they’d been working on out there. Tobacco would always be part and parcel for the Mojave, but what good was it if it didn’t evolve the way it’s people did, if it didn’t get tougher to handle the same way people did. Harsh and choking yet oddly smooth once it hit your throat, the tingle at the base of her neck strong and cool. Lifting the rag from the room temperature water, she squeezed the excess out – small streams pouring over the head of the little girl in the tub as squealed giggles filled the small space. “Mommy, why’s your face all black.” Carla didn’t answer right away, simply smiling down at her daughter, running the rag over the dirt she’d collected throughout the day. “Daddy, babygirl. He got mad at me.” Wringing the rag out, she carefully brushed it through the girl’s swiftly growing hair – caked in sweat and grime coming loose with each gentle tug. “Is he really a ‘son of a bitch’?” Fingers fumbling, the rag dropped into the water, Carla’s eyes on fire.

“The hell just came out of your mouth?”

“I heard you call him that once, ma.” Hand fishing around in the tub for only a second before scooping up the rag, Carla sighed – shaking her head gently. Of course, she had to hear that too. She wanted to tell her that it wasn’t true, that he was a great man, that he provided for them and kept them safe, he and all the men of the town. She wanted to lie to her daughter, spare her the gory details of what lied outside those doors, underneath that harsh, hot sun. Lie and spare her of the things that would eventually happen to her if they stayed there. As soon as Penny gets her first blood, we’re fuckin’ gone. Finding her daughter’s eyes, Carla offered the frail little girl the smallest of smiles; “Did you? Well…don’t ever let him or me hear you call him that, alright Addy?” Those sweet, brunette brows furrowed and Carla took on her ‘motherly’ stare; “Adelaide, now I ain’t playin’ with you. Yeah, he is but you don’t ever repeat it, alright?” At her nod, Carla gave her the most tender of kisses to her head before lifting her up and out of the water – toweling her off. “I’m cold.”

“I know you are, babygirl – it’s the water. But be glad the well gives us what it does, there are a lot of people in this world that don’t have what we have and we gotta give thanks for it, alright? C’mon, go get in bed and say your prayers.” A clean if not oversized tee-shirt thrown over her head, Carla watched from the doorframe as the little girl scampered down the hallway and hopped into bed where her older sister was curled up, asleep. Fingers finding the stinging bruise outlining her eye, Carla didn’t bother looking in the mirror. Fuck.


“Where were you last night?” The question was quiet, her voice barely above a wavering whisper as she sat across from him – glass of lukewarm coffee sitting in her hand, a scavenged grind – older than fuck probably but strong when she boiled it over the cookfire. Bitter and black and foul but enough to keep her eyes open, keep electricity sparking in her muscles and in her lungs. He was rolling cigars across from her – old, weathered hands working skillfully with the herb and paper, gentle almost. Carla idly wondered why that gentleness was never transferred to her, why it was always rough grabs and slaps and punches and screaming. He wasn’t the man she married. No, he’d died with the loss of their first baby. He shrugged his shoulders non-committedly; the movement of a man who was simply listening to the whispers on the wind and not the earnest question of his wife. “Charlie?”

What?”

“Where were you last night?” She swallowed another mouthful of the thick brew, tasting acid at the back of her throat – tangy and stinging, a rusty metallic taste washing over her tongue with another sip. “The fuck does it matter, Carla?”

“Can you please not use that sorta language inside the house? It’s not decent and what if the girls heard you?”

“The fuck should I care?!” On his feet, he smacked the humidor sitting between them on the table out of the way, the wooden box clattering loudly to the floor as Carla pushed herself to her feet, her back straight and shoulders set. “It’s my goddamn house!” She had expected the slap, hard and vicious and cruel. Always so fucking cruel with him, always angled the right way – always with the edge of his fingers so it stung like fucking hell. Always had to beat her down, remind her who she was, what she was. Her feet tripped over one another and she hit the ground hard – her shoulder bearing the brunt of the weight, a crack resounding as the joint popped painfully. “I go where I damn well please, ya’ uppity slut!” Pulling herself back to her feet – she refused to lay on the floor like some helpless wallflower – she wiped at the edge of her mouth, red just barely staining the tips of her fingers. “All I wanted to know was where you were, baby. I wasn’t accusing you of anything, I wasn’t accusing you of being over at that little, red-headed slut’s house – always tittering around town in that pretty, white dress she fucked whoever for. Goddamnit, if she’s who you want, why the hell don’t you just up and leave?!” She would have pulled the words back inside her own mouth if she’d been able. But the damage was done, she saw that as he turned towards her, the hateful rage in his eyes bleeding out – terror clenching at her heart that this was it. He’d beat her black and bloody, this was it, it was one or the other and it sure as shit wasn’t gonna be her.

Screams erupted from outside, gunshots and pounding fists on their door – shouts for them to grab their weapons, raiders. Dashing from the room as her husband did the same, Carla ran out into the living room – grabbing the seat cushions of the couch they’d kept from burning for fuel. Flinging the seats up, the small armory was revealed – guns and bullets and all manner of killing implements. Hefting her 12 Gauge – Carla screamed; “Charlie! Where the hell are the girls?”

“They was outside!” Shell chambered, Carla racked the weapon – the sound filling the air as she pushed her way outside. Hefted in a hurry, the shotgun sprayed its load wide and far at the Reaver charging towards her door – a Molotov cocktail held high in his hand. The shotgun didn’t discriminate, death never did. Burstfire hit him solidly in the chest – opening him up in a spray of red and white bone fragments; muscly wings sprouting from where his spine should’ve been. He landed with a wet, squelching thud – blood erupting from his mouth, choking on crimson, life barely clinging to the ruins of his flesh. A slide of the breach, the shell discharged as a new slid into place – one more pull of the trigger and his head was nothing more than a slurry of red jelly saturating the sand. Adelaide! Penelope! Voice hoarse, Carla screeched – darting around the side of the house as fast as her feet could carry her – eyes frantic, breath coming way too quick in much too short gasps. She heard screaming coming from the shed. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no… Hiding underneath the rusted wheelbarrow – the Reaver laughing as he moved in; machete drawn, gleaming in the radioactive sunlight. Lifting the barrel of the gun, she had the drop on him and Carla had always been blessed with good aim (not that she needed it). Brains and bloody slurry exploded atop his shoulders, the scream of the girls indicating they hadn’t known to close their eyes.

Hollow thud as his corpse smashed into the ground, Carla kicked the wheelbarrow over, slinging the weapon over her shoulder as she gathered up her children – hovering over them in the shade of the shed as the firing grew more intense, the sounds of battle vicious and horrid until it died down, until the sounds of Reavers dying and choking on their own innards filled her ears and she knew her and her babies were safe. “Shh, shh…” She hated the way her hands shook, the way the terror scattered her voice into some unearthly vibrato as she held the faces of her children, kissing their foreheads, calming them – hiding their eyes from the violence. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re both gonna be okay, shh…” Reavers weren’t supposed to come out this far, they weren’t supposed to be a threat out here – this little township all it’s lonesome.

They weren’t supposed to draw attention. Fuck.


“You and your family are the only ones with a barn on your property that’s not a useless, crumbling ruin. He stays with you.” She wanted to spit fire, she would’ve too if it hadn’t been for Charlie’s hand clamping down hard on her wrist – so hard she winced in discomfort, the sound only increasing his sadistic grip. “He’s not our problem, I don’t want him near my goddamn kids!” Carla shouted at the gathering of townsfolk, wrenching her hand away from Charlie – closing her eyes at the knowledge that she’d pay for it later. That she always paid for it at some point. “You can’t fuckin’ force him on us, we don’t goddamn want him.”

“Watch yer fuckin’ mouth, woman.” Charlie all but hissed at her, seething rage pouring through every syllable out of his mouth. Wheeling on him, she was already gonna get it – may as well make it good and protect the girls; “Are you really willing to let that monster within 100 feet of your children? Penny and Addy just saw me blow someone’s head off; the last thing either of them need is that fucker somehow gettin’ in their heads! Reavers do that! They worm their way in there, make ya’ think ya’ like what they’re doing to you!” Chattering gossip passed amongst the townsfolk and one of the older men turned towards Carla. Wiping her hair out of her face, she looked him dead in the eye and crossed her arms; she wouldn’t be put out over this. He wasn’t staying.

“What would you have us do? Let him go? Kill him?” Rolling her jaw, Carla’s crossed arms fell to her sides, the shake of her head telling them that she wasn’t exactly sure what any of them should do. “I don’t want him near my kids.”

“So forbid your kids from going near the barn. He’s bound up good and tight; he ain’t going anywhere, Carla. We need information from him, you know that, you’re a smart girl, ain’t cha?” The very idea that Carla wasn’t smart insulted her just a small bit, but she nodded her head all the same. Trying to combat the misogyny in this place was like trying to blow out a goddamn light-bulb. “You do it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You take care of him, work on him. That way you can be sure to check his restraints, make sure he stays away from your children, question him for us, get to know him. You’re a sweet girl, seductive when you wanna be.” Several of the older men chuckled and Carla felt herself flush, shame creeping up the length of her neck, taking a few steps back – shaking her head slightly. They made me, they made me, they made me – I’m not that girl anymore, never again. “We’ll come by, work him over ourselves from time to time, but you…you do the heavy lifting for us. You’ll protect your family, won’t you, Carla? Won’t she, Charlie?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him nod and she knew she was fucked no matter what. “Fine. But then he’s my prisoner. He gets treated the way I see fit, he eats when I say he eats, he drinks when I say he drinks. None of y’all get to dictate that, understand?” A wave of agreeable nods passed amongst the older men and Carla sighed, blowing her bangs out of her face. Fuck.


Piss and vinegar – the bar reeked of it, though it always had. The wooden doors clattered shut behind her as she entered, casting the interior into cool shade – her eyes needing a few moments to adjust to the gloom before she walked forward. She didn’t know why, but she’d been expecting…not him. She’d been expecting huge and brutish, missing teeth – maybe an eye-patch. A neck tattoo of his mother’s pussy or something and a dick piercing with a tattoo above his happy trail that said ‘Happiest place on earth’. She wasn’t expecting plain, she wasn’t expecting handsome and almost…normal. There were tattoos, pretty ones sure but definitely nothing relating to his mother’s cunt. The decades old hay crunched under booted feet as she approached, her head tilted sideways as she stared into the eyes of a man who’d no doubt rape and gut her for his own amusement after doing the same to her children. She expected to see the devil in those eyes – a flash of red perhaps, maybe black – a flicker of the light and a too wide mouth to appear – filled with jagged, razor-edged teeth. Yet still nothing. Just a man. No demon, no monster, no Legion. Just flesh and blood.

Carla lifted her pistol silently, letting him stare down the barrel – letting him see the light at the end of the tunnel, letting him taste that fear of death for even just a moment before she fired…

And the scorpion that had been creeping up behind him, six feet back exploded as the round hit it, a sickening crunch as it’s carapace was practically obliterated. Sheathing the pistol in the back band of her jeans, she walked around him - tied up with thick rope between two of the support beams as he was – she toed the remains, plucking the twitching tail and stinger from the mess, walking by and gently trailing the barb along the edge of his throat. “Second time I’ve saved your life today.” It was the first thing ever spoken to him and she liked the way she sounded. Strong – in control of this situation despite all the situations outside the barn she was a victim of. Dropping the barb and tail, she sat down in front of him, a few feet back – the hay crunched beneath her. “The first was about an hour ago. See, either I accepted you as my prisoner or they were probably just gonna torture you and then kill you and let me tell you – out here? People don’t die easy. Tied to a pole and left to starve until you’re nothing more than easy pickings for a vulture, you lucked out.” She wanted to hit him; she wanted to stand to her feet and bash his fucking face in and be done with it. But she didn’t.

“I’m your warden now, big fella. I’m in charge of your meals; I’m in charge of when you’re allowed to have a sip of water. I’m in charge of when you’re allowed to take a piss, I’m in charge of when you’re allowed to fucking breathe. I am not a happy camper with you, I am not in a pleasant mood. One of your cronies went after my children. There’s a saying back in Texas that the most dangerous place in the world is between a mother and her children and I’d even offer you to let you ask your friend if he still had a head.” Hand slipping into her pocket, Carla pulled her baggie of rolled cigarettes from it – lighting up with the harsh, heavy smoke invading her lungs and system, drilling down within her, fruity and perfect. “I’m supposed to get information out of you…” She wanted him to feel that tinge of fear, that she might torture him for what she wanted. She shook her head, scoffing – a ring of smoke drifting from her lips.

“I ain’t gonna torture you. I ain’t gonna put that on my soul or on my conscience. But don’t for one second think it’s because I don’t think you don’t deserve it. Understand? Push me and you’ll see just how nasty I can get, alright? Now…we’re gonna lay down some ground rules.” Dragging off her smoke, she pulled herself to her feet, brushing off the back of her jeans. “Number 1: I am forbidding my children from coming out here. I don’t trust you, I can’t trust you, I’d be a fool if I did, so I will tell you this. They don’t always listen to me and they’re willful so they may very well come to investigate you. It is in your best interest to ignore them if they do. One fucking word to either of my little girls and you will not like what happens afterwards, am I clear?” Taking a few steps closer, she smirked down at him – her eyes hard.

“Number 2: You will eat when I say and you will drink when I say. I mentioned that before but I’m not a cruel woman. I ain’t gonna starve ya’ but you need to eat and drink when I bring it to you, alright? Pride’s gonna get you killed at that part because I won’t fight with you to make sure you stay fed and hydrated.” Lifting her hand, her fingers grazed underneath his chin – lifting his eyes to hers as she kneeled partially in front of him and gently placed her cigarette between his lips, allowing him a single drag before taking it away again.

“Number 3: Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

PM
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ARIES
 Posted: Jul 17 2015, 02:10 AM
Quote


MMM, LOVIN' ME THESE FEELS For the lives that I take, I'm going to hell.For the love that I make, I'm going to hell.Silence roared loudly in his ears as he looked out at the barren fields of sand, gaze sharp and in search for the little pot of gold he'd lead his men out into the dead of night for. He'd been waiting ever so patiently, watching the little ants scurry to and fro as they went about their day to day lives with little concern for what might be lurking in the shadows. Smoke rolled off his lips. curling up into the cool air of the sleeping desert. He lazily brought the brightly glowing cigarette to his pale lips, slowly inhaling the bitter vapor, humming happily at the familiar burn in the back of his throat. His shadowed features were momentarily revealed before falling back into darkness. "Gutter." He called, tone flat and unpleasant to the ears of his herd of savages, coaxing his favored Reaver up to the front of the group. 'What do you see?" He continued on once the ugly fucker had made his to the crazed leader. At first only silence greeted his ears but after an unpleased grunt his man answered, "I don't see anything but sand and wasted fuel..." The man grumbled bravely, scratching at his bulging abdomen like the stupid pig that he was. Pox always wondered why he came back with fewer men then he'd taken and Gutter was the perfect example of why: Aries killed them.“Oh, really now...” Once again his hand rose and the familiar white stick of death settled between his teeth. "I guess, we'll just have to agree to disagree." He turned his head and a mischievous grin lit up his face as the hood of his jacket fell back from its previous placement. The other man chuckled nervously, looking about at his fellow Reavers as if to say 'I got away with that one guys.' If only he knew how wrong he was.Sometime between the answering chuckles of the other men and the calm-sheathing of his blade Gutter's throat had been opened up and the familiar crimson flood fed the desert floor. Silence engulfed the Reavers while the bleeding pig gurgled and choked on his own life essence. The pig's eyes were wide with confusion and fright as Aries looked down on him with a blank look as if this was every Tuesday night for him. In a way it was. All too often he found himself sticking or slicing men and women stupid enough to try and act like anything other than what they were: pigs. Everyone. To him the world was one giant pen where all the little piggies roamed, pissing and shitting where they will and fucking themselves into oblivion. He, however, was the dutiful butcher cutting down the population one stupid fucker at a time. Some days everyone walked away with little to no damage, other days Pox would be down a baker's dozen of men. "Loki, tell me, what do you see?" This time he hoped to get the answer he was expecting from the heard of brainless swine.Screams poured out around him rising up together like a beautiful symphony. He always loved the musical sound of death, it really put him in a good mood and got his blood flowing. He moved through the town like a shadow, gliding over the dead bodies of his men and the occasional lost revenue. The hilt of his blade was held between nimble fingers whilst the blade was thrown over his shoulder as if he were out for a stroll and not pillaging a village. A cigarette sat perched between his lips, smoke drifting from his nostrils as if he didn't have a care in the world. His boots were coated in a thick layer of grime and blood, sand stirred in the air as bodies flew about and blood coated a majority of the surfaces near him.He'd done very little so far, slitting the throat of the occasional passerby as they attempted to run from the monsters that had come tearing through. What was meant to be a quick and easy capturing of human revenue had turned into a blood bath of unseen proportions. Already he could see more Reaver carnage then he could from the people they'd come to enslave. These pigs had fight in them, he'd give them that much at least, brandishing pistols and rifles with an expertise he wished half of his men were capable of. Instead he'd been given a group of pussies and *smegma* who didn't know their dicks from their assholes. The cries of a child fell to his ears and his eyes lazily tracked the sound to a little girl not a year older then seven. Two of his men, Rupus and Yeti, had her pinned down on top of the boiling surface of the sandy ground in hopes of getting a quick fuck in before their pathetic lives came to a bloody-explosive end. A red glaze took over his sight and he was across the empty space between him and the would-be-rapists before Yeti could sink his shriveled up cock in the innocence of the child he'd taken. He had two simple rules he lived by and enforced quite heavily, when he felt like it, and those were: No rape and No hurting children. He had little interest in fucking a woman who didn't want him and he absolutely adored children, they were gifts not toys and he'd gotten in trouble time and time again with Pox over his differences.Rather than the covering of filmy seed the little girl was bathed in the blood of her attackers. Angrily, he ripped Yeti's gurgling corpse back and kicked off the grimy digits that belonged to Rupus. "Poor angel, you're far from ready to dance with the Devil. Come." His cooed, voice low, light and surprisingly pleasant. He wasn't often a man of kindness and compassion but today was one of his better days. Taking up the child he settled her on his shoulders, tying a rag over her eyes to protect her from the carnage of the massacre going on around her.He wasn't a complete savage. Or at least that's what he tried to tell the group of angry men that'd held him at gun point moments after his ten second's of good behavior.Aries pulled lazily at the rope restraints that kept him form doing much, not that he was really trying to break free, the barn they'd dragged him into was stuffy and smelled of piss and vinegar. However it was in better shape than most places he found himself in now days. He'd been left alive, spared from the brutal execution that'd one on not to long ago. Sweat coated his body and matted his hair, dust and sand stuck to the moisture and it itched something fierce. The rope kept him from doing much about it though so he kneeled in the hay gritting his teeth. He waited.And waited...And waited...Until finally the barn doors creaked open to allow in a blonde haired beauty unlike any woman he'd had the pleasure of meeting before. He was shocked, expecting a ground of angry men with knives and pitch forks not a curvy southern belle, though he hid it well enough. His head tilted at her entrance, a smirk settling across his bloodied mouth. He knew most men in his position would be praying to whatever god was listening, begging the good lord to spare them their lives and cocks in which they'll swear to us them for good if he take pity on their souls. He wanted to laugh. If their was anything he wasn't afraid of it was his death, he'd made peace with the fact that sooner or later he'd feel the kiss of a blade or the bite of a bullet and with it his life would flow out into the sand and dunes. Sometimes he wondered if he was already dead and serving his sentence in hell.A quiet chuckle spilt past his clenched teeth at the bravado of the woman in front of him, barrel raised and ready to blast the gooey pink shit between his ears all over the wood planks behind him. His eyes remained hooded, appearing downcast as he studied the desert flower who seemed to be in charge of his execution. The loud blast of the pistol rang in his ears but the familiar burn that followed a gunshot wound was no where to be felt. The first few seconds he'd thought she'd missed him and the urge to laugh was growing harder to suppress. He was glad he'd kept his trap shut when the woman marched forward to fiddle with whatever she'd shot behind him. One moment she wasn't there and the next she was trailing the barb of the scorpion who'd been unfortunate enough to catch her eye. He was secretly thankful that it was the scorpion rather then him who bite the bullet this time round. He was rather against being shot now that this new plot twist had been thrown into the mix, he wanted to know more about the woman holding him captive and what she'd been sent in to do. Was she the bait - meant to seduce him so he would leak all the juicy details to her as they road the waves of ecstasy together? Or was she the brains behind the operations? Despite what most of the population believed, Aries knew just how dangerous and cunning women were compared to men. He'd always silently respected them, even when he was fucking them like they were some animal, which was why he treated them differently than any Reaver who he'd had the misfortune of associating with. "Why don't you untie me and I'll show you just how thankful I am, doll face." His answer was quick, he had no time for hesitation because he knew the games were about to be unveiled. He kept his voice husky, dripping with sweet nothings and the guarantee of broken promises. His hooded eyes followed her as she dropped down in front of him, the tickle of the barb remaining on his adams apple. Filthy thoughts danced through his mind as he watched her lips move the words falling on deaf and uncaring ears. Her threats meant little to him, he wasn't one to scare easily and death was no stranger to him. Instead he continued to strip the blonde with his eyes, imagination coming to life as the metaphorical executioner's axe was held to his neck. She droned on with her threats and bravado, He continued mentally fucking her with his tongue. It'd been some time since he'd had the chance to sick his dick into the tight channel of a woman and the bitch in front of him was looking better and better by the second. However, even he couldn't continue with his erotic thoughts once she mentioned children. Talk about an immediate turn off. "Look, doll face, I'm not responsible for the idiocy of the pig who went for your babies. They know my rules, whether they follow them..." He shrugged, attitude ever present as he tried to put off the air that he didn't care and that he was seeing red at the mental image of a child being harmed. He never understood why he hated the idea so much, he just always had and killed his fair share of pigs willing to herm the piglets. His eyes stayed downcast, submissive to any passerby who happened to check in. The scent of her cigarette had him gritting his teeth, god did he want a good long drag from his favorite killer."Baby doll, you're not gonna get shit from me except my dick...bet I can show you a good time." He muttered, more to himself then for her to hear. He didn't want to push it too far. She was in charge of his food and water when he could piss and breathe. A lot of responsibility for one pretty face.He wasn't quite sure what the other people of her village, or whatever the fuck they called it, expected her to do. She'd said it herself she was above the torture and he couldn't think of any way he'd be spilling his guts without a little bribery and a blade or even a hot poker. He'd always been tight-lipped and if she expected him to share his feelings and secrets like some fucking girl scout she was fucking nuts. Just how he liked his women. He wasn't sure whether it was her natural personality though or the momma bear front that really turned him on.“Number 1: I am forbidding my children from coming out here. I don’t trust you, I can’t trust you, I’d be a fool if I did, so I will tell you this. They don’t always listen to me and they’re willful so they may very well come to investigate you. It is in your best interest to ignore them if they do. One fucking word to either of my little girls and you will not like what happens afterwards, am I clear?” She asked him, striking eyes hard as her lips turned up into a smirk...god the things he wanted to do to that mouth. "Yes, ma'am. Crystal." His tone was mocking but he'd leave her children be.“Number 2: You will eat when I say and you will drink when I say. I mentioned that before but I’m not a cruel woman. I ain’t gonna starve ya’ but you need to eat and drink when I bring it to you, alright? Pride’s gonna get you killed at that part because I won’t fight with you to make sure you stay fed and hydrated.” Her voice was strong, level and demanded respect he'd gladly give as long as she gave him something in return. Preferably a roll in the hay. For now he'd take the light touch to his chin and view of her cleavage. "You say jump and I'll ask how high, baby." He took the drag she offered up and left it drift lazily from his nose. His eyes were alight with mischief and his tone was mocking, he couldn't be serious if he wanted to at least not with her. She was too much fun to be his typical self with.“Number 3: Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” At the final rule he laughed, throwing his head back as his shoulders shook from the raging glee in his belly. "I promise you'll make my dick harder than I'll make this predicament for you, doll face." His eyes glistened, tears on the cusp of falling from his lids as he tried to sober up for her sake. He didn't want to be rude after all..app1 { width: 348px; height: 200px; background-color:#000; opacity: 0; -webkit-transition: 0.5s ease-in-out;-moz-transition: 0.5s ease-in-out;-o-transition: 0.5s ease-in-out; margin-left:-0.7px;}.app1:hover { opacity: 1; }.app2 { width: 348px; height: 580px; margin-top:9px; background-color: #fff; opacity: 1; padding-top:0px; }.app4 {width: 300px; height: 300px; overflow: auto; font-size: 10px; font-family:'arial'; text-align: justify; line-height: 11px; color: #000; margin-left:0px; padding: 7px; text-align:justify; }
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CARLA
 Posted: Jul 23 2015, 10:10 PM
Quote


ENSLAVED
N/A
Pit Slave
LUKE
9 POSTS

Venatrix Appropinquit


CARLA
CHAMPION OF THE PIT



YAAAS GIVE IT TO ME
I am not afraid, I won't burn out in this place.
My intention is to fade and I will, I will.
Good God, even his voice incensed a rage in her that made her want to split his skull open with a fucking shovel. Every breath he took was a mercy she’d granted and already she was beginning to reconsider her stance on her supposed ‘lack of cruelty’. Rules? And what rules might those be?” Her voice was a breathy whisper, holding every ounce of violence she had dwelling beneath her skin in check. She could taste the hate on her tongue, dancing behind her teeth. “You have some rule about getting’ to rape little girls first?” Settling herself back in front of him, it took every last drop of self-control she had not to ram her cigarette into his eye. “You like ‘em dry, right? Before they’ve managed to get their first blood? You like ‘em tight and screamin’, right? You’re all the fuckin’ same. You and all your kind, you fuckin’ Reavers are all goddamn scum and you honestly expect me to believe you’ve got rules? Is it my hair?” Standing; she moved around him – eyes fixed on the ropes binding him to the support beams of the barn.

“Is it my hair? That why you think I’m apparently the dumbest bitch you ever fuckin’ met? ‘Dumb blonde’? That it? That the joke?” She snarled the words as she lifted her leg, the sole of her boot placing itself directly in the center of his shirtless back, the pressure pushing him forward as she tightened the ropes and lifted the knots higher up. Don’t let him get too fucking comfortable. She was gonna make sure that if he survived this, he’d feel it in his shoulders every day for the rest of his miserable life. You ain’t a cruel woman. Sighing, she left one rope a little lower. One shoulder then.

Walking back around in front of him, she eyed him for a long while. “You talk one helluva big game but the thing you’re forgetting is that men like you are a dime a dozen out here. You think y’all’s comments are gonna get to me? You think you scare me, you intimidate me? Motherfucker, I’ve been dealing with your kind since I was a little girl, since before the fuckin’ fall.” Leaning down in front of him, she let her mouth split into a grin – dropping her cigarette in front of him before snuffing it out under her heel. “Can’t have you burnin’ to death your first night here. Wouldn’t that be a riot?” Fingers brushing against his jaw, she smiled down at him – the faintest hint glittering behind her eyes.

Kneeling down, she drew her face in close to his – just close enough that he could smell the days old perfume; the hint of whiskey and tobacco on her breath. Edging his legs open just slightly, she grinned against his ear. “Now…I’ll be back to question you after my family and I have had our dinner and I expect y’all will talk then.” Running her hands up the lengths of his sides, she gently kissed his cheek before ramming her knee up in between his thighs as hard as she could as she stood. Halfway to the door, she called over her shoulder. “Get it hard now.”


“But why?”

“Adelaide, I said enough. Neither of you are allowed to play at the barn anymore, not until I say you can, am I understood? No ‘ifs’, ‘ands’ or ‘buts’ about it, alright? I see one of y’all over there, you’re getting yer butt beat.” It was strange to Carla, having to cook for 5 instead of simply 4. The chicken hissed in the pan, tossed back and forth with a pinch of salt as she occasionally raised her eyes to look out the window the wood-burning stove was situated near, the perfect vantage point to stare straight down to the doors of the barn. “Quit buggin’ ma, Addy. We barely ever went down there, anyway.” Glancing over her shoulder with an unimpressed glare, Penny smiled up at her mother, trying to play it off. “Don’t think you can pull one over on me, I see you down there all the time when I’m in here makin’ lunch. Just because you can’t see in through the other side of the window doesn’t mean I can’t see out. You know where your father’s at?”

“Last I saw, he was still down at the bar with all the other men.” Fucking shit. He’s always worse when he’s drunk. “Well, he’ll just have to his later then, huh? C’mon, both of y’all sit down.” Who was she kidding? Carla had always been cooking for 3.


Plate hot beneath her hand, Carla navigated her way down to the barn. She didn’t know why she bothered, or why she particularly cared but she’d reheated the food for him. A hint of that southern hospitality her own ma had always gone on about. About how you were nothing more than the way you treated the other’s in your life. The girls tucked into bed, Carla had no doubt Charlie would be out at the floozy’s house again for the night, so she’d simply locked everything up, praying and hoping that Charlie wouldn’t suddenly remember he had a family. Pistol weighed in the back of her jeans, she unlatched the door and stepped inside. A scoop of cold water in a dipper from the barrel in the corner, she poured the cool liquid over his head – a slight mercy he probably didn’t deserve but she wasn’t doing it for him. No, she was doing it for her. He’s not dying under my goddamn care. “Told you, I’d be back.” She chuckled, kneeling in front of him and lifting the fork, hot shredded chicken hanging off the end of it. Letting it drift just under his nose, she smiled slightly before pulling it back out of reach and popping the bite into her own mouth.

“You ready to talk? How’s that dick I keep hearing so much about? You think it’s bruised?” Slipping the pocket-knife from her boot, she flicked the blade open. “Want me to check?” Say it. Give me a fucking reason.


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