Perfection, no matter the cost (closed)

by **Tengri** April 2nd 2013, 10:33 am

Perfection, no matter the cost

6:50 PM

The shimmering violet tendrils of light that danced across the heavens were a final reminder of the wondrous Spring day and all of its technicolored glory. The sun's golden face bowed below the shimmering horizon, the scarlet ceiling splattered with indigo clouds and cawing seagulls as the Brazilian coast line was gradually swept into the warm embrace of night. Buzios, the famed coastal town of Rio Di Janeiro was abuzz with life, the noises of rush hour traffic playing a masterful duet with the lapping of waves and heavy beats of the beachside nightclubs. The tanned folk that scuttled amidst the horde of cyclists and delivery trucks expertly made their way through the vivid city, giving the environment new life as the sky grew darker and Buzios became a throbbing beacon of lights and sound. The occupants of the infamous beach town basked under the stars and the constant smell of barbeques and salt water, life here was a celebration, plain and simple. No one could of asked for a more perfect evening, the wind was warm and the night was young, perfect for a birthday.

High above the bustling streets and crowded laneways was a rocky plateau, overlooking the Pacific Ocean and the final resting place for the remnants of light that peaked out from the sun. Nestled amongst well trimmed native flora and a rather baroque marble fence that stretched atop the edge of the cliff was a grand villa, beautifully classic in its design and perfectly located for equal amounts privacy and exclusivity. This was architecture at its most finest, perfect location, perfect view and the perfect patrons. Yes, this grand villa housed two impeccable beauties, beings who possessed an aesthetic quality that could inspire the finest poetry, art or song. They had made their mark on the coastal town, their presence was an urban myth, the occupants mere enigmas to the simple minded plebeians who tussled throughout the day in the fish markets or factories.

People knew that two foreigners owned the property and it was a fair assessment to assume that the exquisite villa was being used...for large, expensive cars had been driving through through the cobbled streets and up the into the remote residence during the latter half of the afternoon. Something was happening in the seaside mansion, and that was all the lower class folk had to know, they saw the red Bentley. Everyone knew who that belonged to and yet none would even dare questioning why HE was visiting the exclusive villa. The man was none other than Sandro Escobar Martinez, the dono or boss of the infamous crime ring, the Tubarões and the second most feared person in all of Brazil.

***
6: 55 PM

"Sandro Martinez is a valued customer, I expect all of you to heed to every little command he gives you without question. If he says sit, you sit. If he says beg, you beg. If he says bend over, then you bend over,"an accented voice trickled into the air, the modulated huskiness piercing the shadowy interior of a dimly lit basement. A male figure, tall and hansome, took a silent stride to his left, arms crossed behind his back with fingers clasped togerther as he inspected a line of several teenage girls, each provocatively dressed and more frightened than the next. His movments were awkward, as if his joints moved far more fluidly than that of a normal person o the point that they seemed almost exaggerated if someone took the time to notice. A navy coat hung at his shoulders, the crimson bow tie providing an excellent contrast with the dark blues and greys that adorned his fitted suit. Polished shoes tapped against the lacquered timber flooring, the steps measured and deliberate as if he had a rhythm he could not break, every quivering girl standing in front of him deserved equal amounts attention before he went on to inspect the rest.

"Remember this. It doesn't matter how hard he fucks you, you must enjoy every single second of it. I do not care if it hurts. I do not care if he makes you bleed. I do not care if he forces you to play with another girl. I do not care. From tonight onwards you shall be his pleasure toys. You girls have no names, you are nobodies now and I expect you to remember that for what's left of your lives..", the man continued, briefly pausing to remove a lock of hair from the eyes of one of the girls present and pinning it behind her ear. This girl had to look perfect, she had to spark the lust of the various patrons who were gathered upstairs, eagerly awaiting the arrival of tonight's entertainment. She was just another pawn for business, another doll that could provide temporary pleasures before she's traded for another.

The teenager instantly flinched upon the touch of the man's disturbingly cold skin, the artificial smoothness of his fingers sending sickening tremors through her flesh as she tried her best to stand straight and not crumple on the floor then and there. All the girls knew what this monster was capable of, he was the sneering embodiment of satan himself, a blonde haired blue eyed monstrosity that was so apathetic to their suffering. Their absolute fear of him was justified, this handsome sociopath was more than just a heartless 'businessman', he was so much more. The was no comprehension for the sickening evil that wallowed in his actions or the actions of his beloved sister. These girls, prisoners and victims of trafficking, would never understand how someone so vile could have such influence, how one wrong move from them could result in a suffering worse than death. They feared this man, this immaculate devil, the figure who had scorched their identities and turned them into nothing more than snivelling slaves. He was the Crow, the merciless doctor, Kasimir Von Metzger.

Realising that his traumatised audience were becoming increasingly disturbed Kasimir slowly stalked the perimeter of where they stood, frozen with fear. Sandro liked his gifts young and pure, teenagers who could easily provide him with months of entertainment and it was the handsome doctor's knowledge that the girl's fear only drove the ganglord's lust even further. Each girl was branded, a penny sized swastika burnt into the skin of their wrists and a permanent reminder of what they were...slaves to a regime that ought to have died out with human progression. They understood the evil of such a symbol but there was absolutely nothing they could do, they were cursed with this horrid marking for the rest of their lives and it pleased Kasimir and his darling sister to see such a beautiful 'trademark' on their property.

"Tonight you shall become women and bathe in the shame of submission. If my darling sister has taught you anything useful I expect you to employ it with our guests tonight", he stated in a rather matter-of-fact voice, fixing a shivering brunette's lipstick in a disturbing show of casualness. "If you do everything they say you may just survive the first year...although I'm not going to make any promises", he mused, taking his position near the stairway which led to the party upstairs. These girls would soon disappear forever into the seedy criminal underground as nothing more than expendable items of pleasure. All that was needed was Allison's approval and then that was that, they would introduce themselves to Sandro, commit their loyalty to him and proceed to entertain his men. Once that was done Kasimir would join the frivolities and hopefully join his sister in providing an entertaining night for their esteemed guests of honour.

If only his sister would get down here sooner...

by **Brorschach** April 5th 2013, 7:55 am

Two bodies touching through thin cloth, one large and thickly muscled, his amber colored skin covered in a fine veneer of oils and the faintest shine of sweat. Even through his thin white shirt you could see his rippling physique. A bulge appeared in his pants, its girth pressing almost painfully hard against the fabric. The other, a woman, had been teasing him the entire afternoon. The pair had met at a club the night before, her sensuous dancing and soft looks had attracted the attention of several men similar to himself, though not quite as handsome. He was a man in his late twenties, a thin beard sat neatly trimmed across his features. It was barely more than five o'clock shadow but all the ladies loved it. Well, either that or they didn't care. His other features were more than enough to leave them drooling messes on the floor. His raven hair was slicked back, a mix of perspiration and a myriad of hair products filling each follicle. She was dressed in a black spaghetti string shirt and an equally dark skirt, though he hoped to rid her of both those articles of clothing by afternoon's end. The way she moved was so perfect, so divine. It was like watching waves drift softly up to the shore.
Her touch on the other hand, that was like those same waves crashing upon the rocks. Her touch seemed unnaturally soft, arousing, filled with a sort of unspoken invitation that no one in their right mind would dare refuse. Her eyes promised pleasures beyond imagining and every velvety word that she purred implied more than was said. After meeting her the night prior, he knew he had to have her. Despite the veritable banquet of men who had surrounded her, only he had made an impression. She had slipped him a number and as soon as he'd awoken this morning he'd dialed it and made arrangements for a day together.

Deep down, some part of him felt guilty, felt like a wretched monster. His fiance, a woman not nearly as beautiful as his current companion -though so much more talkative- had asked him who he called so eagerly. He told her it was potential business partner. He consoled himself with the flimsy excuse that he would be 'getting busy' later. He convinced himself that this was a one time thing, that after this he'd never so much as look at another woman. Yet... he knew that was a lie. Deep down he knew it. Once he'd sampled the flesh of this pale goddess, he'd never be satisfied with anything less. He wanted to ravage her, to pour over every inch of her and mark her as his. She had that effect. Every word she'd spoken during their outing had been accentuated with a certain breathiness, a pause at the end of each syllable that made her every statement seem to last an eternity. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, he had hung on her every word, fascinated by the oh-so-slight German accent and the flick of her tongue behind pearly white teeth. The woman's lips were a pale red, as though a permanent lipstick sat upon them. Her eyes were golden and her hair was nearly as dark as his own. When they'd arrived at her house hours earlier, a blonde man had given him a look so terrifying, he nearly jumped upon meeting the man's gaze. He was likely related to her, though by no means was her her husband. Not unless she was truly so confident in her own sexual power that he wouldn't do anything to her newest beau.
The worst part was that that hadn't been the only stare he'd encountered in this massive domicile. No, far from it. When they'd turned into the east wing, the entire hallway leading up to her bedroom had been filled on each side by statues so real, he could have sworn he saw one's eye twitch. Another had appeared to be breathing, the slightest movement of the chest unnerving him. When he'd inquired about it, she simply smiled and told him they were part of her collection. A common theme amongst them had been their near nudity, each clad in only a perfectly white cloth and thin sandals. The cloth itself covered varying degrees of their body. Another theme had been the perfectly carved musculature and almost organic feel of their material. She had neglected to comment on that. He had been glad to get out of that hallway, though her bedroom was little better. Inside the doorway stood two more of those statues, both appearing to be of negroid stock, black as a pure African and not a single follicle of hair anywhere on their bodies. They were covered only by a white cloth hiding their crotches. Their gazes had been -and still were- harsh and unyielding.

He really wished he could close their eyes.

Looking deeply into her eyes, he smiled. In that instant, he forgot all about the paranoia inducing gazes from the statues and lost himself in hers. She moved slowly forward, her lips softly coming into contact with his own. The kiss was passionate and deep, everything her eyes and unspoken hints had promised. The moment seemed to last an eternity, well it did until he heard a distinct musical tone sounding from his right. It was his fiance. The tone was their song. Immediately he felt the guilt of what he was about to engage in wash over him. Though the kiss had been the most amazing of his life, he saw it now for what it was. It was a sin, a thing to be abhorred. He tried to reach for his phone, yet he couldn't. Was he so reluctant to end his embrace with this woman that he could not even when he knew how wrong it was?
Forcing himself, he let his arms unlock from her, though she continued to hang onto him. He tried to push her away, his limbs once more refusing to obey his mind. He forced it yet again, but this time, nothing happened. A surge of panic shot through him. This wasn't reluctance, no, something was wrong. Had she drugged him? He couldn't move, yet he was completely conscious. A look of horror crossed his face as he looked once more into her eyes. She was still smiling, though her soft gaze had turned hard and her lips were twisted into a smirk that could only be described as belonging to some sort of monster.

"What's wrong dearest? Shouldn't you answer her?" she purred, her voice unchanged.

"H-how did... you... know?" he croaked out. His lips, his tongue, hell his vocal chords barely moved. He could see her every detail in stark relief. However, that wasn't what caught his attention. No, it was the sleek black cell phone she held in her hands.

"Oh dearest, I've known since last night. She's not bad. I'm sure she'll make a fine specimen for my brother" she replied, pressing the button on the screen.

"Hello there. Yes. Yes, he's right here. I'm sorry, I can't put him on. You see, he's currently got his hands on my chest and he seems to be enjoying himself. Where are we? You see that giant house overlooking your pathetic hovel? Yes, that's it. A man will show you in when you arrive. she cooed, the same breathiness and allure still present, though a maniacal edge sat upon her every pause.

dropping the phone, she stepped on it, cracking the screen as her sharp stiletto heels pierced the glass.

She watched it crack and shatter under her foot before turning back to him.

"Oh don't worry dearest, I'll make sure you get to see her before my brother gets a hold of her. I'm sure she'll love your new look" she chuckled, ducking under him and pressing a button on her wall. The button was hidden amongst the design of a crow, its eye acting as the mechanism. The door to the woman's bedroom opened, two woman gliding in. They wore classic maid's attire, and each had midnight black hair. Upon further examination, he might have noticed how closely their features matched her own. She smiled and addressed them.

Give him the full treatment and have him moved to the refreshment table. He will be our centerpiece tonight." She ordered, her tone soft and lilting. He felt himself being lifted, yet was powerless to stop it. He tried to make a sound, to protest, yet could not. His voice would not come. he tried to look around, yet found his eyes unable to so much as move. He could still breathe, though it was painfully slow. His muscles ached, their position unnatural.

As he was carried from the room, he managed to catch a glimpse of the negro's own gaze once again. Now he understood, the man -whom he had thought a statue- had not been gazing with anger upon him, but with pity. The man must have once been in his own position long ago, and now he was powerless to stop the cycle from repeating itself.

Allison let out a cute laugh as her two maids carried the newest addition to her collection away. These two were new, for they were shorter than her last pair. Their predecessors were likely decorating her brother's lab -or more likely his quarters- by now. She hadn't missed their resemblance to her, instead, she reveled in his obsession. She would remember to prod him a little about it once she had dressed for the party. Turning, she opened her walk-in closet and began carefully pouring over the various garments contained therein. Finally, she decided upon a black evening gown resembling a qipao , though the slit along the leg ran nearly up to her navel. She chuckled, that would drive him crazy.

Donning the dress, she heard the doorbell ring. It was too early for guests... well, at least those who had come for the party. Donning her stockings and stilettos, she strode gracefully from the closet and her bedroom, taking her time through the 'art gallery'. Why, she even stopped to examine one of her older pieces. He was a Caucasian male, a toga covering his form. Blonde hair trimmed short sat upon his head. It was curly and luscious. It was why she had chosen him in the first place. He stood posed with an antique spear in his hands, a taxidermy lion across from him on the pedestal. She took a step forward and stroked his cheek before planting a kiss on its opposite number.

Ah, Francois. You continue to be one of my favorites she purred, moving on. He had been a Swiss exchange student, easily seduced, yet one of her most treasured catches. Despite their business, it was so hard to find anyone with such perfect, porcelain colored skin around here.

Finally arriving at the door, she gently opened it. On the other side stood a woman in her mid-twenties, tears pouring down her cheeks and a gun in her hand.

"Take me to him!" she screamed, pointing the gun in Allison's face.

"Why certainly, right this way" Allison replied cheerily, motioning for the distraught woman to follow her. Several twists and turns later, they were in the grand hall. The room was set for the party and the newest centerpiece was already in place.

"He's right over there" she stated, pointing at the frozen man. She'd never bothered to learn his name. He was just another in a long line of Latino men she had acquired. Still, he was handsome enough that she deigned to add him to her collection.

The woman took a few steps forward before collapsing on her knees.

"Al-Alejandro..." she whispered, horrified. Of course, that didn't last long. Allison came down behind her and slowly slipped her supple fingers around the woman's nostrils. A few drops of chloroform leaked from her pores and the woman collapsed backwards. The two maids -previously unnoticed- slid from the shadows and took the woman, one arm to each of them.

"Poor dear, oh well, let's take her to my loving brother" she purred, turning and motioning for the maids to follow her after several steps. The help would not be allowed to stay close to her. They were unworthy, even with Kasimir's modifications. Before long, she had descended the staircase and taken the hidden elevator. Stepping out of it, she briskly walked down the hallway to his laboratory. Stopping, she heard him on the other end lecturing the merchandise. She didn't open the door until she head the clack-clack-clack of the help's shoes approaching.

"Oh brother dearest, I know you can barely stand to be away from me, but despair not, I come bearing gifts" she cooed, signaling the maids to drag the newest specimen inside. Her motions were exaggerated as she stepped up to her brother. He was a handsome devil, though she cared not for his appearance. It was his obsession she wanted, not his body. Rubbing her hands softly against his chest, she spoke once more.

"Are the girls ready for their new life yet? Have you prepared them for our guests my dearest Kasimir?" she whispered, drawing close to him as she spoke.

by **Tengri** April 8th 2013, 11:49 am

The fear was tangible, like a spectre had entered the shadowy basement and imbedded it's hollow talons into the girls that quivered and whimpered before the blonde haired fellow who stood with a flat gaze and hunched shoulders. Every passing second ushered in new wave of dread and uncertainty, it was a countdown till the inevitable and their terror began to manifest in the occasional jerking of limbs or weakening of knees. This sickening weight suffocated the atmosphere with an undeniable potency, every muted throb of the music from upstairs slowly paving the way for the girl's 'grand' entrance; a macabre opening theme song for the rest of their lives. They could hear it, the distant laughter and murmurs of their future owners, nightmarish figments of the future that only crept closer with every minute that brashly passed on. They had been trained and groomed for this event, every day for the past six months they have had their very identity stripped away from them and tossed aside for a more adept knowledge of how to please their buyers in bed. 'Never say no', 'always submit' and 'wear your leash with pride' were but a few commandments that were routinely drilled into their minds, so much so that a few of the girls actually began to believe it. Their bodies were soon to be available for the scrutinising crowd that slowly grew on the upper floor, they were dolls, nothing more.

Kasimir's icy blue orbs glazed over the pitiful collection of adolescent girls huddled in the center of the room, his golden brow furrowed as he meticulously determined whether the 'merchandise' was fit for viewing this business month. One girl had a mole on her shoulder; easily removable if her buyer demanded so; another had a habit of biting her nails, a truly unfortunate quirk that could easily be remedied by removing all of her teeth; and there was also that one brazilian runaway who thought it necessary to cry whenever someone so much as got near her, if she was not purchased by the end of the night the Doctor had various uses for her, none of which guaranteed her survival. She was just one of many homeless street urchins who were 'lucky' enough to get snagged by the Metzger siblings, her relative attractiveness meeting the standard of their assorted merchandise. After months of teaching these native girls basic English and educating them in the ways of seduction and coitus, the pale skinned doctor would put them through several 'initiations', their final tests determining whether they had what it took to be a proper slavegirl to the various drug barens, brothel owners and gangsters that regularly traded with the German born siblings.

Kasimir's moment of tense observation was instantly shattered when he heard the familiar clicking of high heels against the wooden staircase. He intimately knew the sound, the rhythm of each step and the exact make of the shoes that belonged to the size seven feet that gradually came towards the basement. Every resounding step ushered a warm throb through his artificial core, and a unanimous shudder from the girl's that cowered before their new visitor. She was here. Beauty incarnate, the devil's mistress and the immaculate being who possessed his dreams and haunted his nightmares. He could smell her perfume, the subtle mix of roses, lavender and the sweetest fruits invading his senses as his mouth began to water. Allison, beautiful beyond comprehension and the one woman he could never have, never taste and never penetrate. He could feel the warmth of her body as she crept into his chambers, her luscious voice ringing in his ears like a chorus of angels.

She brought in that other man, she fucked him in this house and made him another toy, whispered a voice in the back of his mind, slowly clawing its way to the surface of his consciousness as he turned to face his sister. That was true! She had brought in that horrid beast of a man, that sweating, testosterone filled ape whose only achievement in life is managing to work his worthless manhood. Allison had betrayed his trust and love again. Again! And yet here she stood, in all of her fierce wonder and beauty, her porcelain face close to his own, the lingering scent of her sweet breath brushing against his neck.

He hated her!

But her loved her all the more...

"Gifts are unnecessary my sister..." , he uttered, the raging blizzard in his pale eyes yearning for the passion that only existed in his fantasies. Glancing at the frozen 'gift' that two of his modified maids held the doctor could not help but stifle a grin, "Passing the whores of your latest toys to your little brother. My oh my, don't you know how to win me over...", he grimaced, the subtle acid in his words barely recognisable to anyone who did not comprehend the lust he felt for his elder sibling. What was she trying to do? Embarrass him? Is this peasant girl some complimentary prize for putting up with Allison's antics? This new toy, regardless of how new she was was eventually going to suffer the same fate as the two maids that held her...she was going to 'become' Allison, and then and then only would he ravage the woman over and over again till she was convinced her name truly was 'Allison'. But no drugged up doppelgänger could ever reach the unquestionable perfection of the woman that stood before him, his forbidden fruit and the woman whose very essence he soaked in.

Her touch was gentle, light and her skin as smooth as it had always been, the fingers pressed against his chest like a guy prodding against its lock. Kasimir wanted this, he needed this and yet, at the same time he felt the seething anger boil within his heart. This she-devil was mocking him! Oh the nerve his beloved sister had, toying with him in a brief moment of weakness, how he wished he could take her all for himself then..

"This batch is ready, all they need is your approval and then we can begin work with our guests...", he whispered, grabbing her slender porcelain hand and keeping it against his own. He felt it, the spark between their touch and the warmth of her digits against his own. He dreamed endlessly of the days he could interlock hand and hand with this woman for the rest of eternity...but alas, this was much too good to be true and after the mere moment of wonder he dropped it, his lingering touch wishing to tantalise his passion even when their fingers separated.

Fate, however seemed to be having a habit of making a mockery of the handsome nazi, taking the form of a very desperate voice. An American voice.

"W-wait...please, please...I can't do this. Please, I'll do anything for you two...I'll I'll even become a maid. Just don't make me go up there..." , the girl begged, her voice shattering the atmosphere with the ghastly American twang and snivelling delivery. It was the American tourist girl, kidnaped from a hostel and given nothing more than the name '638'. She was a pretty thing, athletic and flexible; the very fact that she was American was a guarantee that a very high offer would be placed for her permanent services and yet, there she was on all fours practically begging for them to reconsider.

"There's always one...", Kasimir sighed, not at all surprised with 638's panicked pleas for pardon. Glancing at his raven haired sibling, the doctor felt a rather malicious grin creep up on his lips. "Looks like the American whore wants to work here instead. It's up to you sister dearest, I do recall you enjoyed training her...", he smirked, glancing at the foreign teenager whose year stained face was almost as laughable as the minuscule amount of clothing stuck onto her supple skin. She would make a great whore this one.

by **Brorschach** April 10th 2013, 6:22 am

Her brother's reactions were delightful, the uncontrollable shuddering her touch produced, the continuation of the physical contact by grabbing her hand and interlocking it with his own. She knew what he desired, the forbidden fruit of her flesh that he attempted to replicate with those maids. They'd likely been abused, ravaged, taken over and over again in any way he could imagine. All that and more in a vain attempt to vent his pent up frustration against her. Oh how she reveled in his torturous internal battle, in every little thing he did to garner her approval. She knew what he hoped to accomplish, what he hoped to attain. He was like a monkey, dancing for coins. It was amusing, a little sad, and yet she couldn't get enough of it. Though she would never admit it, she bathed in her brother's feelings, most of which she had had the pleasure of implanting into him through decades of mental manipulation and subtle -or not so subtle- conditioning. While these girls were good practice, it was him she was truly training, though for what, no one could say, let alone imagine. She stared at him, enjoying those pools of icy blue before the shrill cries interrupted her fun.

It was the American girl, the one who seemed to fluctuate between quiet obedience and barely tolerable defiance. She had tested Allison during training, seeing exactly what level of disobedience she could get away with, what commands she could drag her feet on. In many ways, she was smarter than she let on. She'd tried to escape once early on in her training. The attempt was feeble and Allison had barely had to exert any effort to prevent it. She'd tackled the girl, slashed her back with her blade. The wound itself was trivial, though the toxins coating it had been designed to inflict the maximum amount of suffering through the nervous system. Allison had dragged the presumptuous bitch back to the mansion by her hair, the woman's screams loud and constant.
To any other listener, they were the hellish cries of the damned. To the pale haired woman known in international trafficking circles as 'The Spider', they were a delightful symphony, a nice sound by which to have an afternoon stroll. And what a stroll it was. Allison had dragged her drugged up toy through the woods, briar patches, whatever obstacle she could encounter just for the hell of it. When they'd finally returned to the training area below the mansion, she'd cast the bruised and battered slave into the communal holding cell. The girl was still screaming and would continue to do so for several more hours until Allison had Kasimir perform some surgery. The message had been clear and harsh. The girl had been quiet after that, never once so much as looking her trainers in the eye unless explicitly told to. Now, the last bits of defiance and humanity that she had bottled up were coming to the forefront as she sobbed on the floor, begging their mercy.

Releasing her brother, Allison strolled leisurely over to the wreck on the floor, a wide smile on her face.

"Oh, you'll even become our maid. How cute" she began, circling the girl like a predator about to leap upon its prey.

"Do you hear that dearest Kasimir? This wonderful woman has deigned that she'll lower herself to become our maid" the ebony haired woman continued, a look of quiet disdain on her face. How dare such a lowly worm speak to her betters that way. Moving over to her prey, the predator struck. Allison's lifted her leg back and let loose a vicious kick. It wasn't more than the average human could do but it was plenty. The girl was lifted off the ground momentarily before rolling several feet away.

The sobs were mixed with intermittent coughs now. A spitting sound could be heard, drops of scarlet flecked the floor, their deep red mixed with saliva.

Looking at the two doppelganger maids, Allison sneered.

"You two, bring her here" she hissed out, watching as the two silently obeyed, the pair gliding over and hooking themselves under each of the slave's arms and bringing her in front of their mistress.

Allison made a motion and the two dropped her, a quiet "oomph" exiting the girl's lips. Allison gazed down at the woman, her lips twisting from a sneer into a smirk.

"You know my dear, upon second thought, you might make a good maid" she intoned, kneeling down and grasping the girl by the chin. She gazed into the girl's eyes, a deep shade of blue.

The girl continued sobbing, though she managed to croak out a response. "R-really? Th-thank you ma'am" she said, choking back more tears.

Allison leaned forward -knowing Kasimir was watching- and planted her lips on the girl's cheeks, before running her tongue up them, licking away the tears.

"Yes, you'll do nicely. You're blonde, white, and your eyes are the loveliest shade of blue. Oh, and don't ever call me ma'am. From now on, you are to address me as 'Mistress' or 'My lady'" Allison replied, releasing the girl from her grip and standing up. As she began to turn away, a wicked idea slithered into her thoughts.

"In fact, why don't you prove your eagerness right now. My shoe got a little dirty when it touched your mongrel skin. Clean it." she sneered, a smirk on her face.

"B-but Mistress, I d-don't have anything to clean it with..."

"Oh but you do my dear, you have that tongue of yours. Make it sparkle" Allison ordered in a sing-song voice.

The girl looked horrified for the brief moment it took her to swallow her pride and begin combing over the already immaculate stiletto with her tongue. While she was busy, Allison looked at the other girls and in the same sing-song voice, she began the usual tirade.

"Now you girls are going to go out there and present yourselves as the most high class whores money can buy. You are to smile and nod at whatever a prospective buyer says, show off your filthy bodies at any chance and most important of all... have fun darlings" she announced, her voice the very model of sincerity. Looking down, she pulled her foot away from 638's tongue.

"That's enough. You two, bring her to the changing room. Dress her in the standard attire for one of your profession and bring her to the kitchen. Also, inform the guards that if anyone matching her description tries to leave, they are to be shot on sight" she purred, looking down into the girl's eyes, a knowing look in them. The two doppelgangers nodded silently and picked up their cargo, escorting her away.

Once she was gone, Allison walked over to the local girl who was far too jumpy for presentation. At her approach, the slave recoiled, trying to seem small and failing miserably. Not deigning to speak, Allison shot her hand forward and gripped the slave's throat before pulling it -and the slave- towards her.

The girl was terrified. Her pale tormentor just grinned in response. Despite the terror, her mouth was shut. That wouldn't do, no not at all.

"Open your mouth" she ordered, glaring at the girl until she responded.

Placing her hand above the girl, Allison began producing a chemical from her index finger, a potent mix of several aphrodisiacs and a mild mood enhancer, she allowed a large dose to drip down into the girl's open maw. All the tension left the girl and she went from being tight to relaxed in moments. Her eyes glazed over and her body seemed to shake once more, though no longer with terror. The simple motion of breathing was arousing her.

Releasing her, Allison smiled and gave her a pat on the cheek, earning yet another shudder of joy from the drugged out slave.

"Dearest Kasimir, have them sent out. I'm going to go entertain our guests" she purred to her brother, leaving the basement and the lab behind.

Climbing the finely carved rosewood stairs, she exited into the hallway. The sound of guests arriving had already begun and when she walked into the grand ballroom, she was delighted to see several guests marveling at her new centerpiece. A good portion of the guests had arrived, despite how early it still was. The first batch of girls had been sent up to the stage already, though the auction hadn't started yet. No, these girls wouldn't be put on sale until the end of the night. They would be on stage until then, taking customer's requests for dances and showing themselves off. Other patrons were dancing to the finest music available, a live symphony orchestra seated at the edge of the room. Allison smiled as the first person noticed her.

"Oh Ms. Metzger, how wonderful to see you! What a wonderful party you've thrown" It was a relatively minor bureaucrat in the Brazilian government, though he was easily bought off to turn a blind eye to the siblings' doings. Allison herself held him in contempt, though she smiled when he walked over.

"Mr Escalandra, the pleasure is all mine. How's that quaint little family of yours doing" she replied. She would have to keep this quick. This man, short and bespectacled, was the very epitome of aesthetic filth to her. He was paunchy, balding and seemed to be panting in her presence. No doubt he held the same lust for her that Kasimir did, though he was even less likely to get the thing he sought than her own brother.

"Oh they're doing absolutely fabulous thanks to your 'donations'" he chimed, acting as though they were perfectly legitimate business partners.

"Why Mr. Escalandra, there's no need to mince words here. Let's just call those 'donations' what they are: bribes" answered, adding the slightest hint of venom to her words.

"Oh erm, well, yes, I suppose that they are bribes" he stuttered out, too flustered by her openness to notice as she walked away.

The next batch of girls had been brought up and her personal drugged out Latino had begun her dance. The little tart seemed to be on the border of an orgasm just by walking. Allison couldn't wait to see what kind of show she'd put on once the requests began to pour in. Looking around, she also spotted the newly minted maid all dressed up and any signs of abuse gone. The maids worked fast, as was expected of them. Moving about the party, she spotted her brother. Several women had already surrounded him, the poor fools. They were lucky, each was too well connected -either on their own or by marriage- to spend an evening with The Crow, though Allison found herself disliking the attention they received. Sneering, she looked around the party and found a suitable male to present as bait for Kasimir's hatred.
He was a small time thug, likely brought along by one of the more nervous mafiosos as muscle. He could be gotten rid of and no one would say a word. She gripped him by the shoulders and began a relatively mundane conversation about his work, all the while moving right into Kasimir's line of sight. As soon as they were close enough that her brother could see them without so much as trying, she began her game. Pawing at the man, stroking his chest, laughing at all his stupid jokes.

It would drive Kasimir wild.

by **Tengri** April 12th 2013, 12:23 pm

Witnessing the terrified slavegirls crumple underneath Allison's presence was not only a sight to behold but also an exemplary opportunity to see his raven haired sister at work. She was a cunning Succubus, a woman of nigh unmatchable command and beauty, a mere glare from those molten gold eyes could burn away the soul, the very essence of a person. Her twisted foreplay with the snivelling American sent shrill jolts of trepidation throughout the doctor's core, he was a spectator in a game he was barred to play. Clenching his jaw, Kasimir silently stood by as his elder sibling humiliated their foreign captive, all of his willpower focused on trying not to squirm from the mere sight of his sister sucking on the terrified girl's face. This was all a game to Allison, she was merely toying with the blonde haired beauty, abusing her apparent loyalty like it was nothing more than an expendable accessory. It was a pitiful display, one which dragged on unnecessarily and it was an obvious provocation on Allison's part, had she wanted him to see this? Toy around with some American whore? The very idea sickened him, a disgusted snarl rippling across his thin pale lips as the pitiful whore desperately cleaned his sister's shoes. Such a ghastly display.

Allison's eventual approval of the rest of the merchandise went on as usual, she would 'calm' them down and make sure the younger girls weren't so nervous that they couldn't even stand with feet at shoulder width. Her powers were always an interesting aspect of who she was, such a delicate experience to see her genetic gifts manifesting in such a curious display. From a scientific perspective it was a wondrous spectacle, a step up in human, more so Aryan, evolution and the very fact that she was immune to such deadly chemicals was further reason to marvel at her. It was her very DNA that inspired the chemicals used in the gas chambers during the Second World War, carbon monoxide and hydrogen cyanide were but two of the deadly offspring his sister so graciously provided for their nazi brethren. She was a beautiful creature creating deadly toxins, Pestilence assuming human form.

The bountiful uses of her aphrodisiacs were always an entertaining spectacle, albeit one which left the blonde haired sociopath awkwardly off into spectators realm. Witnessing her victims enter such visceral bliss at her mere touch only sparked his lust even further, her forbidden touch was what he craved; even dreamed about. But alas, Kasimir could not dwell on such futile thoughts right before he was expected on the upper floor and no sooner had a teenage Brazilian sway with sensual pleasure did he know that now was the time to enter the fray, to provide his guests with the writhing, half naked whores who would not only provide a good show but also, a worthwhile investment.

"Time for business my darlings...", he grinned momentarily, nodding to his sister as she strutted up the stairs to their potential buyers, his gaze lingering on her body till she was nothing more than a distant sound and shadow.

The Crow straightened his pinstripe navy coat and brushed his pale hand through the ash blonde hair, the fingers coiling around the placid fibres as he gave the group of young women a methodical gaze. They were an impressive bunch no doubt, all well trained and each achieving a relatively impressive aesthetic value that would burn the fires of lust within their target market. Their nervousness would only encourage the simmering libido that Kasimir and his sister had 'encouraged' out of them, they were to represent the finer aspects of this business practise and it would be a great shame for any of them to underperfom during the night's activities. Several were going to be stationed on stage for much of the evening's duration, there they would be expected to advertise their bodies and their individual set of 'skills', providing brief demonstrations for the various patrons who would hope to purchase the girls. They were often the more beautiful girls and it was not uncommon for them to be the younger ones either. What was left of the slaves was often divided between being handed out as free gifts to some very exclusive guests or as 'pleasure pieces' for the night, a more immediate taste of what the Metzgers had to offer this evening. The girls all knew their roles, they were fitted with the finest lingerie, although it was often expected for said garments to be disposed of later on during the auction. Collars clung to their necks with a tag stating their numerical name and how old they were, whether they were 'pure' or not and how much their starting price was meant to be.

The man's measured steps up the winding staircase were silent and steady, his eerie silhouette guiding the chain of slaves up the coiling spiral and into the bright and boisterous party on the upper floor, the main foyer. He could smell the food, hear the simple chatter of the glorified apes that gathered upstairs and see the encroaching light that began to illuminate the last turn of the hidden entryway. It was time to join the parade.

"Welcome to the first chapter of your new lives my sweets!", he sighed in what could only be described as a romantic tone, his accented voice dripping with a strange ebullience like the private festivities had sparked his enthusiasm with life. While this could easily be the case the doctor was merely putting on a faux expression, playing the part of the dastardly salesperson ready to market his merchandise to the crowd that was yet to notice him off to the side of the grand foyer. Turning around to two of the silent, doppelgänger maids he gave them a knowing stare, a kink in his smile as he cleared his throat. "Make sure these girls are all placed where they belong, once you're done doing that I expect you to be on your knees offering whatever disgusting request these apes give you. Now go", he uttered, shooing away the two dark haired assistants, both of whom bowed before leading the small crowd of slaves up the stairs and into the well dressed crowd before them.

Men's gazes immediately dropped, mouths temporarily hanging open as the assorted females were ushered into the room, the luscious reds, pinks and violets of their lingerie providing a nice touch of colour to the predominantly black and white attire present. The girls separated into the crowd, some joining their fellow prisoners on stage, fake smiles adorning their lips as they began to gyrate their bodies to the tempo of the music. Other girls were instantly snatched up by several of the guests, a few drunk patrons already exploring the supple flesh of the young slaves without any regard for the privacy of themselves or the very humans they were assaulting. Every collar wearing being in that room was nothing more than a toy, a pretty accessory that could submit to the most foulest of fantasies and still keep a smile. A fake smile no doubt but one which could fool the lustful crowd with ease, the girls were expected to behave like this...if they were not under the effect of Allison's aphrodisiac then they were desperately trying their best to endure the endless groping, slapping and the general hands on approach from much of the patrons present.

Kasimir stood to the side of the gathering, a glass of wine sitting idle in his grip as he watched the people before him enjoy the food, music and the whores, completely unaware that they were standing in a cemetery. Beneath the grand foyer was the doctor's dollhouse, a place of the marvellous and the macabre...a hidden gem within the great mansion and a place that he was more than willing to spend the next few hours in rather than with the various people present.

"Oh Mr Metzger, as handsome as always! Do tell me, what do you think of this dress my cousin bought for me? Beautiful isn't it?", chimed a familiar female voice. It belonged to Sandro's younger cousin, Cassandra. She was a rather attractive twenty something year old with a penchant for interrupting moments of contemplation and speaking about her favourite thing, herself. Whilst she was nowhere near as alluring or intelligent as Allison was she did amuse the doctor, her perky enthusiasm and blatant silliness providing him with some entertainment during events such as these. She was also one of his most loyal buyers, often purchasing several girls to work as maids in her house or for some other secret purpose of hers. He always thought she was a closet lesbian, not that he really cared. He had already fucked her the summer that had passed.

"Ah yes...a fine piece, it's fortunate that you could wear such a stunning gown on his birthday...", Kasimir muttered through his teeth, flashing a quick grin before downing the glass of wine without an ounce of feeling its burn.

"Well he said that since its his birthday and I'm his favourite cousin then I'm allowed any girl of my pick tonight!", she squealed a bit too loudly, the alcohol already affecting her till the point that she was red in the cheeks. Well, her enthusiasm was enough to force a mild grin to cross the doctor's lips. She truly was an entertaining wench, flexible as well if he remembered correctly.

"That is marvellous, I can point out some girls for you now if...if...actually no. I forgot I had something to do", his measured voice dropped down to a flat icy tone as his gaze caught onto something that instantly sparked a foul malevolence within his heart. The man's jaw clenched and his brow furrowed as the dazzling form of his elder sibling slid into his view, her facetious laughter forcing a spike of wrathful jealousy to well up within the pit of what was left of his tarnished soul.

"Oh...uh okay, I'll be around if you want me...", Cassandra mumbled awkwardly, watching as her handsome acquaintance stormed off with a foul look on his handsome face. Such a shame, she really did want the the devilish German surgeon in her bed once more, too bad he had disappeared into the waltzing crowd with nothing more than an abrupt departure.

Kasimir whisked his way through the whirling couples, his eyes set on the musclebound thug that his elder sister clung onto. What was this beast's charm? He was an utterly disgusting looking ape and nothing more than a cheap gun for one of the drug lords present. Of course she was doing this! That promiscuous wench of a sister, her blatant lust fanning the flames of bitter jealousy within the handsome doctor to the point that his fists were clenched until they were ivory white. Allison had such nerve to publicly frolic around with some mindless grunt, a oafish beast that was nowhere near as handsome as her most recent centrepiece...and that's was angered Kasimir even further. Had his beloved sibling really lowered her standards to the point that she'll devour anything with a phallic protrusion between their legs?

Gripping the man's upper arm, Kasimir yanked him loose off his sister, not enough to cause any unwanted attention but strong enough to take the fellow off guard.

"I think you've had more than your fair share of this lovely lady for the night..", Kasimir uttered, the potent venom in his words cutting the atmosphere like a tainted blade. His seething glare matching the sly gaze of his sibling.

Before the brute could properly react to the sudden intrusion he felt an immense and highly unfamiliar experience within his body, as if his bowels had erupted and his insides had been swarmed with locusts. Without much warning and with no more than a stifled gurgle the gangster bolted off in the direction of the bathroom, a cold sweat building up on his tattooed face as he desperately clambered into the safe confines of a private cubicle.

Not even acknowledging the hasty exit of Allison's now dying dance partner Kasimir coiled his arm around her waist and interlocked fingers with her other hand, pushing her body into his own before sending her into a forced waltz. Whilst the spectacle was beautiful, two glorious siblings gracefully dancing to the sweetest violin medley, it was the silent tension that was what truly encompassed the couple as their bodies elegantly swirled around the dance floor with startling grace and ease. His cold grip on her hand was like iron, she was not going to get away so easily this time without appreciating the efforts he was putting in to 'protect' her.

"You really think I don't know what you're trying to do?!", he snarled, never breaking eye contact as he led the marvellous dance routine. "That poor, unfortunate man is probably defecating every single organ within his body, messing up our bathroom with his shit. What you just tried to pull is now staining our marble tiles.", Kasimir hissed, his anger seething though his words to the point that he wasn't entirely thinking straight, why else would he mention bathroom tiles when telling her off?

"You're a cunning wench but I'm too old for your games..", he whispered in her ear, the burning passion and flaring wrath meshed into one. Allison had successfully provoked him.

by **Brorschach** April 15th 2013, 7:03 am

The pair twirled slowly on the dance floor, a black velvet dream across polished marble. Her raven black hair seeming to disappear into the back of her dress as though the two were one and the same. She chuckled and let a small grin appear on her face. Kasimir had grabbed her, flung her into this dance that he was so violently leading. He was angry, obviously. His words dripped with venom and spite, jealousy having boiled over into wrath. He was borderline incoherent it seemed, for he mentioned the man messing up the bathroom tiles as though that were truly a concern. No, no it was little more than a triviality he was playing up as an attempt to distract from the real source of his anger, the one she knew so much about. As they glided across the dance floor, she pulled him closer, close enough to whisper in his ear.

"Oh dearest Kasimir, you'll never get too old for games, you're just a sore loser is all" she breathed, forcefully causing a misstep in the waltz, knowing that he would adjust again. It would move them closer to the edge of the dance floor, closer to the stage. At the distance she was, Allison could hear her brother's heartbeat, one of the last organic components left in his patchwork form. He believed it brought him closer to his own existential idea of beauty, yet all he was doing was making it easier for her to toy with him. After all, the more like a puppet he became, the easier it would be to pull on his strings.

"Come now brother, you can't really be all that mad, it is a party after all. I was just having a little fun with one our guests. Although, I'm sure you'd prefer I was hanging off your arm instead" she continued, purring out the last half of her sentence and moving her leg to brush against his crotch, the pale skin touching the fabric and rubbing against it just long enough before she pulled away.

Pulling her head away from his, she smiled and planted a quick peck on both his cheeks.

"Now Kasimir, I know I said it was a party, but there is business to be attended to" she teased, releasing him as they closed upon the edge of the dancing area. She spun away elegantly, almost in slow motion. Her movements were exaggerated as she walked away from him, the swishing of her hips intentionally overdone until she was well into the mingling crowds.

Looking around, she spotted one of the doppelganger maids and strode over to it. Yes, it. To Allison, the tortured girls who had been maimed and surgically turned into near identical copies of herself were not even worthy of being assigned a gender. They were freaks, experiments that no longer held any will or worth. Each was a doll, so much like her brother. Unlike him however, they had lost any hope of being entertaining and were little more than expendable trash, easily replaced by even the most hideous of streetwalkers given a few hours with The Crow. Barely deigning to look upon the surgically created beast, she sneered.

"You, 093, there should be a man making a large mess in the gentleman's washroom. Dispose of him and clean the place. I will be inspecting it after the party and if I find so much as a spec of dirt or grime in that room, I'll eviscerate you and have your replacement see if it can't do a better job"

The doppelganger stared blankly and bowed, walking away with drilled in poise and finesse. That was another thing she disliked about them. They lacked respect. They lacked fear. Her mood had soured somewhat, but speaking of fear, let us now answer a question that has no doubt been plaguing your mind, what became of 638? Well it just so happened that the answer to that question was also what would improve Allison's mood. You see, 638 was wandering about the room passing drinks to anyone who would take one off her platter, then retreating to the kitchen like mouse to its hole. She was afraid, terrified that one of the siblings might see her, might remember her. That, if they saw her here, they might change their minds on a whim and put her up for auction anyway. No, if she could just make it through the night then she might become scenery, a thing to be ignored. That was the best she could hope for. Not escape, not freedom or even any kind of life, just to make it through the night. Of course, to make it past the eye of both the Spider and the Crow is not an easy feat for a trained assassin, much less one terrified slave-servant. So it was that while she was attempting her hasty retreat to the brief safety of the kitchen, she was trapped in the spider's web.

A hand came to rest upon her breast, the other massaging her side. Sheer terror engulfed 638, who had forgotten her own name amongst the horrible tortures and training that the siblings made her endure. Now if it had been anyone else, she might have worried less, but those hands, the soft caressing brought about as a sign of faux affection was one she knew well. It was the Spider, her new mistress.

"C-can I help you Mistress?" she squeaked, trying to remain calm.

"You can always help me 6-3-8" Allison replied, adding a breath between each individual number, accentuating and emphasizing how that was all the girl had left to call her own. A number, thing that if she died, could easily be tacked on to another slave. For now however, that moniker belonged to this slave.

Allison smiled, feeling the girl's heartbeat through her chest. The maid's outfit was overly erotic, one given to slaves up for sale rather than their actual maids -who wore a far more modest attire-. She noted how that was likely accidental, yet so much more entertaining. She had told the dolls to dress this one in maid's attire. They had done so, just not theirs. Perhaps she had been mistaken about the seemingly emotionless doppelgangers. Perhaps they felt threatened by this one and so gave her a far more degrading outfit. Allison smiled at the thought that deep down those filthy experiments were proud to be what they were. She really didn't give her brother enough credit when it came to mentally breaking the slaves. She'd always seen him as a bit heavy handed, the sort to let the excruciating pain of surgery break them rather than the slow and measured process of mentally twisting them into obedient toys. Leaning into the slave-servant's ear, she spoke.

"You know dearie, I think I might just make you wear that outfit as every day attire. It suits your filthy body. How's your gut doing" she purred, massaging the bare skin of the slave's stomach in nearly the exact spot she'd kicked her earlier that night. While doing so, she let forth a slight array of chemicals, muscle relaxers and soporifics. Wouldn't want her running away when she heard the news later that evening.

"W-whatever you wish Mistress, and it's fine, everything's fine" 638 stammered back, likely confused by how pleasant Allison's touch felt on what should have been a very sensitive spot. The pain would normally have stung, but somehow the rubbing felt relaxing and made her feel just the slightest bit drowsy. So much so that when the spider released her, the slave-servant was just the slightest bit saddened.

Allison chuckled and walked away, leaving the girl to figure out the strange torrent of conflicting emotions that were likely spiraling around in her pathetic little brain. Striding over to the stage, the raven haired goddess began mingling with the various patrons, advertising the merchandise and subtly improving the moods of all those rich enough to afford a slave with her ecstasy laced touch.

by **Tengri** April 16th 2013, 8:33 am

The ash blonde surgeon, with his meticulously cleaned and pressed apparel and nigh immaculate facial structure, was fuming underneath his beautiful exterior. The wrath and lust that swept through his tainted artificial body was more than enough to manifest in the slightest twitch of an eye, the clenching of a fist or a slower misstep in their elegant routine. The Crow could not lash out at her, for that was dishonourable and quite a despicable act even if she was such a conniving woman. No, Kasimir would not submit to her provocation even if his heart clawed out for one lasting second against her tender touch, the gentle caress of her body against his own. Her words were like a burning iron, prodding and poking at the remaining pieces of humanity that he still believed useful, the stinging sweetness and the eventual conclusion to their twisted waltz left the man feeling agitated and more frustrated than when he started.

Like a ghost slipping out of his fingers Allison swept out of his grasp and into the chattering masses, her lingering kisses burning into his face. The man stayed still and silent, like a a frozen spectre amongst his squabbling acquaintances. His gaze lost on the invisible trail his sister left behind.

"One day..", he murmured, flicking his gaze away from the shadow of his sibling and onto a clearing near a sparkling champagne pyramid. There his hand crafted doppelgänger of his sister toiled away at whatever menial task they had been given, these hollow girls barely exuding the natural spark and charisma like the woman they were so tirelessly modelled off. Their heads were bowed and their hands were constantly moving, lace collars adorning their necks like an instant tag acknowledging them as the doctor's property. They were his only because Allison couldn't be, imperfect replications of the impeccable being that was Allison. Whilst he certainly felt no pity for the maids he did notice their hard work, often 'rewarding' them if they performed up to standard. The girls knew they could never refuse such generous gifts from the disturbed surgeon, his private meetings with them often leaving them more scarred and empty before he drags them into his chambers.

Kasimir's attention, however, was almost immediately diverted when a shrill squeal invaded the relatively composed atmosphere. Men turned their heads and the collected dancers momentarily turned to see what noise could have possibly broken their trance. Swivelling his body towards the centre of the room Kasimir was met with a rather amusing spectacle, one which he knew set the simmering flames of lust within the potential buyers gathered around this spontaneous performance. Gyrating atop a bronze stand next to Allison's most newest 'statue' was the meek little Brazilian runaway that his beloved sister had drugged with her unique aphrodisiac. Although the girl was nothing more than a teenager she danced like a trained whore, her eye rolled back into her head and her lips dripping with warmth and stifled moans. The little slut, now dressed in nothing more than skimpy bottoms, grinded her young body against the frozen alpha male, her squeals of ecstasy and pleasure sending jolts into any man in the surrounding area.

"So the little lamb has finally sold herself over...", he mumbled, crossing his arms as he quickly shot a gaze at the men who were desperately attempting to keep their calm around such a slovenly little wench.

Raising an eyebrow and clicking his tongue, Kasimir watched on as the drugged up piece of merchandise made a spectacle of herself. The girl, named 721, who only just several hours before cried at the slightest touch had now given into her most basic animalistic desire. She felt a constant warmth surge though her supple skin, the tingling sensation that pervaded her abdomen only spurred her further into the lewd dance against the body of the frozen man. Although Kasimir wanted to drag her down and discipline her for such recklessness he knew she would only react like the most primal whore, latching onto any human who dare enter her zone of violent infatuation. This would only spur the buyers to spend more tonight, where else would they be able to find such excitable young women? 721's titillating groans and pubescent moans for attention were a fantastic entree before the grand auction that was to be held soon, she was a mere taste of what the Metzgers had to offer later that night.

It was not only her but a whole lieu of young captives that were on offer tonight, they were to be the finest purchases any of these corrupt men would ever make. Some of the girls were terrified, obvious in their shaky dances and reluctant attempts of stripping for a curious audience; others were simply to drugged up to even comprehend the situation they were in, many not remembering the events of that night the day after. This was business, plain and simple and although this night was far more grandiose and cheery for their birthday guest it still focused heavily on the illegal activities that were to be announced very soon. Only the most exclusive buyers would attend the 'red curtain' showcase, any other guest more than likely being led to a generic auction for the girls who aren't as 'premium' as their more attractive sisters.

Glancing down at the obsidian watch that clung to his porcelain wrist, Kasimir was reminded of the strict timeframe that tonight's festivities were tied too. Five minutes till the general auction and then two hours later for the red curtain showcase and be had concluded that the overly excitable 721 would join the premium batch, she was a pretty little thing regardless of the admittedly questionable things she did with the frozen man.

"You, get 721 off there and make sure she's wearing her costume. I expect her to be properly dressed and ready in the showroom in five minutes", he ordered to a nearby maid who did nothing more than nod and set off towards the teenager who had now resorted to a very public act of foreplay. It was time for business.

by **Brorschach** April 20th 2013, 7:57 pm

Ghosting about between the patrons, The Spider crept along her invisible and well laid out web, hearing the silent stirrings of the evening resonate through each and every fiber. The fattest amongst her trapped flies were always the easiest, not so much refusing her touch as begging for it, reveling in it. They were like her brother, each desiring what they could not have. Some of the bolder specimens had made inquiries about the maids, whether they were for sale or rent, how they could get one, where they found the girls. Allison always tactfully let the curious pigs down with a soft touch on their face and a rather light dose of ecstasy. Not enough to make them incoherent of unmanageable, but just the right amount to induce forgetfulness. She knew the look instantly and without so much as a slurred word occurring. Their eyes went glassy, their jaws slack, and they seemed to begin stuttering just a tad. It was as though amidst their hazy -and mostly like erotic- fantasies, they'd forgotten how to speak. She never touched the stuff herself, not that using it would do anything to her. Any drugs she injected just broke down in her system, absorbed into the much more potent cocktail that made up her bloodstream. It was a blessing for one of her status, never having to worry about poisons, yet easily able to detect their presence in food or drink. She recalled how the CIA had attempted to have them eliminated once, poisoning their meals at a meeting on neutral grounds. Allison had finished her meal, noting halfway through how much more flavorful it was than the usual dishes she was served. The men had looked nervous, but hadn't said a word about it. Once the dinner ended, they pulled firearms.

Big mistake.

Within moments both The Spider and The Crow had dispatched their hosts, leaving one alive, just barely. They spirited him away to the mansion and put him through a year of breaking and reconstruction so heinous as to make Satan himself tremble with fear. Early on, he'd resisted. Of course he had, the CIA didn't train their men to buckle under petty tortures. Unfortunately for that poor man, The Metzgers had more than enough practice at breaking men of such character. Allison had given him drugged food, meals laced with a subtle poison that would degrade his muscles and his mental state slowly. That made the other 'treatments' so much easier. With the poison keeping him mentally ill, any escape attempts were poorly planned and easily dealt with. Of course, torturing the man to death wasn't the focus of the capture, despite how entertaining that could be. No, no, they needed him fit and ready for duty when they sent him back to his employers.
Yes, the lowly worker ant would return to the hill and with some careful maneuvering -as well as some stealthy elimination of competition- it would become the new queen under the sibling's control. Allison remembered the reconstruction almost as fondly as the breaking. She'd made the man utterly devoted to her, so much that when he finally returned home, he had his wife meet with Kasimir for some 'aesthetic improvements'. She might have found his new found worship of her to be sweet, were it not drilled into his head with months of subliminal commands and psychological conditioning. That very man was at the party tonight, dressed to impress.

Walking over to him, Allison smiled and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. He needed no drugs, her very touch was euphoric to him.

"Well hello there Agent Trexler, or should I say Director, I heard you got a promotion" she quipped, staring into his eyes.

"Yes I did ma'am, all thanks to you and yours" He replied casually. Unlike Kasimir, he knew how to keep in his pants in public, though she could see the slight reddening of his cheeks and she massaged his shoulder. At this particular moment, she didn't care if Kasimir was watching or not. Even if he was, there was nothing he could do to this man. They'd put too much work into him as their perfect tool for her brother to kill him in a fit of rage.

"Great party" He continued, as she said nothing. His southern drawl was apparent and -aside from his horribly average looks- was yet another qualifier for why he stood no chance with the raven haired temptress. She preferred her native German or at the very least The Queen's English. Really, the accent didn't make the man, but it certainly helped, or hindered, as was poor Trexler's case.

"Why thank you Director, we're so glad you could make it" she cooed in response, slightly distracted by the scene unfolding near her centerpiece.

Grinding her barely covered body against the male was was Slave 721, hopped up on one of Allison's more potent mixtures, each thrust of her indecent hips against the frozen Adonis simply serving to stir a fire in Allison's own loins. The lust, the uncontrolled motion, the sheer depravity of the once innocent and scared girl unable to control her own body was delectable. So much so that Allison found herself licking her lips. Yet despite the scene, now was not the time. There was no one present who she could bring to her room for a quick release. She supposed she could grab one of the servants, some of them were quite handsome. Not yet though, now was the time to accelerate things, to move the party forward.

Turning away from the spectacle, she glided over to the stage where the rest of the slaves were still awkwardly dancing, each and everyone of them sweating not only from the spotlight that was cast upon them, but from their own drilled in desire to be looked at in such lewd attire.

Stepping up to the microphone in the center of the stage, Allison began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I do hope you enjoyed the demonstration of our work by Slave 721. She will of course be up for sale in the VIP auction which will begin shortly. To those of you who received red cards upon entrance, please exit the room through the red door. As for the rest of you, please enjoy the rest of your evening and don't hesitate to ask a servant for anything you might desire" she announced, turning away from the mic and walking off the stage. She saw 638 still nervously passing out drinks, trying to get away.

Striding over to the nervous slave, she smiled.

"I want you to fill up your platter and follow the guests inside, the room has no windows and it tends to get a little hot inside so I expect you to be passing our refreshments like your life depended on it" she purred, walking away without waiting for the slave-servant's response. While she'd phrased that last bit in the manner of a humorous remark, as far as 638 could tell, her life did in fact depend on serving the drinks in a timely manner.

Now was the time when pleasantries were at an end, where the true purpose of this 'party' became apparent. While there were specimens dancing away on stage and even more being viewed in private auction chambers, the cream of the crop had been herded into the all red room. Each and every detail of the room was designed for its purpose. Soft, velvet colored walls angled just ever so slightly led the eye subconsciously towards the stage. Glass stood between the patrons and their prizes, a variety of multicolored lights being shone down on the girls. Each and every shade, hue, and contrasting color had been handpicked to suit the girl it covered. In many ways, they were like actresses being prepared for a big part, though none of them would even think of that comparison. Each of these girls had received Allison's personal attention, her special brand of tender loving and care. They were the ones who would keep the siblings in business. Caught in her musings, she nearly missed Kasimir. Walking up to him, she came close and spoke in a soft tone.

"It's time dearest"

by **Tengri** April 22nd 2013, 10:36 am

The announcement was made, the clock had chimed and the beginning of the evening's events were about to transpire. The ominous celebration of business and pleasure was about to reach its expected climax, the very tip of the Metzgers apparent pride and joy. They were well versed with marketing their particular pieces of merchandise, cunning and shrewd enough to employ minor psychological tricks when convincing potential buyers to purchase a girl or two. The very fact that the birthday party was a glorified and more celebratory facade for the eventual auction was also a rather amusing little element of the night for its blonde haired host. Kasimir stood by the token chocolate fountain, not really caring for the awkward glances that the guests gave him nor for the mouth watering selection of treats that lay in wait for some unsuspecting diabetic. There was only one delicacy he wanted and she was stutting through the primped plebians like a monstrously beautiful monarch, completely unaware of her brother's lingering gaze. The Crow watched on as his swindling sibling strolled onto the stage and performed the generic pleasantries for the earlier hours of the night. Every eye was turned, she was immaculate and divine, the slavegirls whose barely clothed bodies writhed on stage were glaringly overshadowed by their charismatic mistress. Allison truly was the face to this illegal trade and it admittedly made her younger sibling swell with begrudging pride that she could manipulate her audience so easily.

Guests wielding their exclusive red tickets began to file into the large black double doors on the opposite side of the main hall, the only glimpse into the room from the outside was barely visible, just a warm crimson glow and black curtains to cover much of the entryway. The premium grade girls were ushered in through a hidden back door away from any curious spectator, their collars all connected by a singular leash led by one of the doppelgängers. Their bare feet barely made a sound as they shuffled into the private showroom, their imminent fates in the hands of the elite buyers who gathered in the comforting, window-less space. Their collars occasionally jingled from the jerking of the leash and the occasional sniffle would break the fear ridden air around them, one could practically taste their terror.

Kasimir stood by the hidden entryway, counting his merchandise as they filed in one by one, making sure to check their tags just in case they were plastered with the wrong price. These girls were certainly not cheap, they had been extensively trained in the art of complete and utter servitude, they already knew the expectations these faceless buyers had for them and it made sense that all of Allison's lewd lessons on libido were flooding their minds at that moment. Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth the straight faced surgeon swivelled his body in through the door right after the last unfortunate pleasure toy passed by. A darkened corridor led the group of snivelling, frightened and drugged up girls into a small enclosure, one which was connected to a stage through a thick black curtain. Each was to walk out through the curtain and bow. There they were expected to perform some minor skill they possessed and then strip away any unecessary garments, auctioning would then start from the selected price on the individual's collar. A relatively simple ritual which almost always resulted in satisfied customer and a smooth business transaction. There was rarely any drama with the merchandise, regardless of how afraid they were they knew not to panic, scream or struggle...it would only allow Allison to make their purchase all the worse.

"349 you shall go onstage first and then both 711 and 906 will follow up as our package deal. Do everything my sister says whilst on stage, you don't want to be given away to anyone now do you?", he stated in a hushed manner, ensuring that these first few girls were suitable for show and that no obvious flaw stood out on their shivering half naked bodies. This was the Crow's prep talk, as if he was a coach speaking to his football team, ensuring that everyone knew exactly what they had to do and when they had to do it. Whilst most of it would've fallen on deaf ears the eerily charming surgeon knew that it was enough to prepare the girls for what was to come. He didn't care who bought them, nor did he know if they would survive the first year. What mattered was that his hard work would not go to waste and that a considerable amount of income was made once they had successfully trafficked each female.

Allison's luscious voice was soon heard from a microphone, the start of the Red curtain auction was beginning and he could feel the instant rise in tension as every syllable dripped from his sibling's lips. The first number was soon called out, 349, and what may have felt like the most torturous moment in her young life the girl was eventually prodded out onto the stage, completely flustered and unprepared for the coloured lights and the little crowd before her. 349 was a well chosen starter for the night; skinny, tanned and young she was the perfect little whore to catch the attention of any buyer looking for an exotic plaything. Whilst his attention should've been on the gradual proceedings a familiar voice chimed from behind, somewhat ruining the tense atmosphere behind the stage.

"Wow...so this is what it's like backstage... very cool!", a mumbling voice enthusiastically stated, interrupting Kasimir's train of thought as his attention was instantly tossed over to the familiar and obviously tipsy form of Cassandra. The grinning idiot probably stumbled backstage in the attempt to find the handsome German, which she had, although her slightly dishevelled appearance did not do much more than amuse the beauty hunter.

"Yes. Yes this is it. Cassandra, I suggest you rejoin your cousin back in the viewing stand, you shouldn't be ignoring your cousin on his birthday", Kasimir stated in a flat voice, only pausing for a moment to shove 711 and 906 onto the stage. With eyebrow raised in slight exasperation the man quickly store over to his intoxicated acquaintance, she truly was one to make a mess and he knew that at its most intimate.

"Wait wait...Sandro asked if he could reserve the uhh..that girl who was humping the statue earlier, he said he'd pay double if it was you know...necessary..." , she grinned, blowing out a stream of air as she lazily attempted to search for the little whore amongst the assembled merchandise.

"I'm sure we could come to an agreement and I'll even allow you a choice of any girl if you simply return back to your seat." Kasimir muttered in the warm tone that was beginning to break, he knew that playing to this silly girl's simple wants was enough to get her out of his space for that moment. Unlike other humans Cassandra was a coloured woman who actually entertained the man, her general flippancy and disregard to the moral 'laws' of society often made her strangely endearing, like a retarded child who cared little for rules and regulations...plus she was a rather pleasant wench under the sheets as well, a factor which also barred the man from outright turning her into one of his dolls.

"Ooooh okay! Umm...urgh, can't I just have all of them?", she giggled, flapping her hand in the air as she slinked through the assorted girls and looked for a special little gift to herself. "I want this one! Uhh 115...she has such pretty hair and look at this body of hers..oooh", Cassandra cooed, gripping her chosen girl around the waist like she was a mannequin, ignoring the rather confused looks her new toy was giving her. "But I also want that pretty blonde waitress...she is just so pretty..", the young woman whined, still clinging onto 115 and shaking her around a bit like a ragdoll.

It was a rather humourous statement in fact, because Kasimir was sure he heard 638's number get called out over Cassandra's pouty complaint. What was this? Had Allison planned this all along? Such a thing should've surprised the man but he was almost certain that the blonde haired captive was going to serve in the Metzger mansion from then on. Oh the prices that people would offer for an American!

Kasimir simply had to wait and see how this little surprise would transpire..

by **Brorschach** April 28th 2013, 12:01 am

As Kasimir walked away, the black widow smiled. His silence told only of her success, of her ability to push him to the places where she loved to see him most. She could almost smell the sheer ravenous hatred wafting from his body. It was the sweetest scent of all. As Allison began to follow him, she felt a hand on her shoulder, large and brutish. Without even turning, she knew who it was. it was a hand that she'd felt many times before, though he usually preferred to place it far lower on her body. It was the fool who thought he could taunt the spider without getting bitten. Unfortunately, he was right. He was one of the few individuals who had caressed any part of her and weren't either dead or part of the mansion's macabre decorum. Mentally clenching her fist, Allison turned slowly to greet the star of the evening, the only man aside from Kasimir who could survive the act of touching her without her permission.

"Sandro. Martinez. Castro" she purred as her eyes came to rest on South America's largest cartel mastermind and one of the single most unpleasant looking men she had ever seen. Every inch of him spoke of his former life, not as a cartel drug lord, but as one of the many thugs employed by such men. Sandro was not a man born into his station, one of those whom nepotism had chosen for the task of leading the shady South American organization. No, he was just one of thousands, nay, hundreds of thousands of faceless goons who had chosen that particular career path. The man's past was shrouded in rumor and hearsay, no records existed. No official ones at least. When she'd first met this man all those years ago, he hadn't been the leader of the cartel, nor even the second in command. He'd been a simple bodyguard, a chiseled jawline, thin beard, and spiked hair had decorated his features. His gaze had been steely and his body toned. Aside from his Hispanic heritage, he was everything the late Fuhrer had dreamed of in a human being. Throughout most of their first interaction, Allison had been staring at him.

His eyes scanned the room expertly and with the eye of a trained professional. It lit a fire in her loins and she knew she had to have him. Of course, acquiring someone of his station was not like grabbing a low level Capo and traipsing in front of Kasimir with him. No, he had to be brought to their way of seeing things, to leave the service of the man he had sworn to protect and come under the spider's sway. To this end, The Spider had sent out feelers, paid exorbitant sums for even the slightest rumor and had the background of the snitch erased before disposing of them. All this so she could acquire the background of what could only be described as a schoolgirl's crush.
From what her extensive efforts had gathered, Sandro came from a home of sixteen children, raised by whores and put on the street as soon as he came of age. His biological father was in the same business as his son, though Sandro didn't know that. Ironically, he'd had to kill the man as part of a routine smash and grab on a rival cartel. The young Castro had moved up the ranks quickly with his methodical precision and almost animal like drive to complete a task. That was how he'd acquired the position Allison had met him in. From there, a subtle web of intrigue had been woven between the Metzgers and Castro.
They'd supplied him with weapons, funding, and several other things. All as part of Allison's fleeting infatuation. In only a few short years, he'd staged a coup and taken control of South America's most powerful network of drugs, sex, and illegal arms dealing. So simple, so elegant, any who observed with the objective eye could see the Metzger's hands in the whole affair. Ah, but such was the past. In his time as the head of the organization, that statuesque form that Allison had fallen for cracked and shattered beneath both the ravages of time and the poisons of luxury. Though he hadn't shrunk physically, his presence as a human being had all but disappeared to Allison. The spiked hair was slicked back and his natural musk had been lost beneath an almost visible layer of cologne and body oils.
He had grown fat and his jawline had been lost beneath several other chins. The perfect, tan Adonis she had fallen for had been crushed beneath what she was sure was a veritable truckload of fat. Oddly enough, the situation was the reverse of their initial meeting. Now it was he with the crush and her with the look of disinterest on her face. Despite all this, appearances had to be maintained, connections made and agreements upheld.

"Allison Schönheit Metzger" he said, clicking his tongue on the final syllable. Despite his gross appearance, his voice had not changed since back then. It almost made Allison forget what he had become for an instant, though only that long. Reality raked its wretched claws through her brief pang of nostalgia.

"I would ask how you've been, but I can see that time has treated you far better than myself" he continued, chuckling at his own momentary self deprecation. She simply smiled, letting out a minor chuckle as courtesy demanded.

"Oh Sandro, you do go on" she replied, covering her mouth to hide the frown developing on it. She hated this creature, this mockery of what had once been. It was like a constant reminder of how imperfect the human form was and it sickened her.

"I do hope you'll forgive me for cutting this short, but the auction is about to start. We'll talk more after" she cooed, attempting to repress her disgust as she walked away into the soundproof room.

Making her way up to the stage, she began what could only be described at the tiring process of listing off the various numbers she'd memorized. While presentation was everything -and she put on quite a show-, it was all horribly boring. Now this was not to say that she did not enjoy sending the girl's off to their new homes. After all, it was a process she worked tirelessly at. A personal task that she would not entrust to anyone else. Every single movement of hers on that stage had been carefully choreographed, so that despite her own beauty, it was truly the slaves that shined. Yet, tonight she did not take the same horrid pleasure in her act of inhuman torment. It was not that the act itself was any less fun, oh no. No, it was the anticipation of the final item for sale, a number that had been removed despite no change to the brochure. She'd seen some of the customers scratch their heads as her number had been skipped, a hot sale that seemed to have disappeared without a single word from the saleswoman. Little did anyone know, it hadn't been removed, simply saved for later. The best wine is aged the longest they say. As the final slave was called, Allison grinned. Now was the time.

"Ladies, gentleman, my brother and I do so appreciate your patronage, but you may all notice an error on our brochure. The item numbered 6-3-8 will not be sold for the price of twenty eight thousand as was placed on the brochure" she began, reveling in what came next. The maids had moved silently and without a single look to one another. So it was that they dragged the kicking and screaming Slave 638 up to the stage with nary a hiccup. Releasing her, they tossed the slave at their mistress' feet before disappearing into the darkness of offstage.

638 began to rise, placing her hands under her and pushing, only to be crushed back down. Allison's shoes were pressed to the back of her head, the stiletto heels digging into the flesh of her neck.

"Oh no dearie, don't get up. Slaves belong on their knees after all" she laughed, an echo of her own being heard from the crowd.

"B-but Mistress... you promised"

"I changed my mind" Allison replied, hearing quiet sobs from the girl beneath her heel. Smiling, she knew of a way to take pity on the poor soul and increase her sales value. Kneeling down, she lifted the girl's face to meet with her own and set the microphone down on the stage.

"I'm not all bad though. That looks like it hurts, let me kiss it better" she taunted, placing her lips on the girl's forehead and releasing a veritable tidal wave of euphoric chemicals straight into the poor thing's blood stream. Hallucinogens, mood raisers, aphrodisiacs, muscle relaxers, the whole shebang now pumped through the girl's body as Allison rose, retrieving the microphone and pulling the poor thing up by her chin.

"Now my dear, tell the crowd how you feel" The Spider purred.

No response came from the girl. Instead, she dropped to her knees and began gyrating against Allison's leg as though it were a stripper pole. Ignoring the obscene display, Allison turned to face the crowd and smiled.

"We'll start the bidding at fifty thousand dollars" she announced. The price quickly skyrocketed as the lust fueled bids of their customers cascaded in.

----------------------------------------------------

Nearly an hour later, Allison was backstage wiping off her leg from the juices the drugged up slave had left on there. In the end, she'd sold for just under thirty million dollars. Men were so easy to manipulate. As if by clockwork, Sandro was upon her, his face red and his tongue licking his lips almost frantically.

"Is it time now?" he panted out.

"Yes, it's time. Please allow me to retrieve my brother. One of the servants will escort you to our office" she replied flatly before seeking out her brother on the opposite side of the room.

"Did you enjoy the show dearest Kasimir? I hope so because the time for games is over. That pig Sandro will be waiting in the office for us. Are you prepared?

by **Tengri** May 5th 2013, 10:35 am

Like a watcher in the night, Kasimir's wintery blue orbs gazed through the black enfolds of the large curtains, his porcelain visage starkly contrasting the heavy midnight material. Unlike the divine creature that confidently strutted onstage the German surgeon found it much more appealing to remain hidden, where no lingering gaze could properly survey his rather unnaturally immaculate physique. No, the focus tonight was the Metzger's merchandise, not him or his sister, as hard as that might be to mentally process. It was a rather fitting station, the Crow observing his treasures from a shrouded perch whilst the Spider spun her elegant web of twisted truths and sly marketing ploys. Each 'gift' was of a higher standard than the last, every girl that would tentatively stumble onstage would eventually be replaced by a more beautiful, and admittedly more expensive specimen. It came as no suprise that the selling prices eventually reached the millions, the bidding eventually becoming a furious race to claim the slovenly whores or the meek virgins. The girl's hymens, or lack thereof were of little concern to Kasimir, and unlike his raven haired sibling it was the revenue that they made that was of importance. He was a business man, as peculiar as that sounded and as long as the merchandise was purchased under the Metzger's conditions and within a reasonable price range then he was content, well...as content as a hollow man could be.

The final selling price for the young American, only known as 638 was a staggering amount, one which forced a twisted grin to ripple across the surgeon's face. Her selling price even surpassed various package deals, two teenage twins and a portugese university student well known for her obedience and pleasure skills. If the American behaved then she would probably survive the first year, that is if her new master was actually pleased with her service. It was a well known fact that foreign girls sold for higher prices and that their lifespan was filled to the brim with a whole range of cultural discrimination and humiliating torture. The final whorish moan that escaped 638's blushing lips was the last sound Kasimir heard before she was sedated and packaged for the very lucky buyer. She was just another nameless object, a poor girl now lost in a world that would stay with her until her last breath.

"Who would've thought...the American really was a whorish wench after all", Kasimir murmured to himself, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he watched the unconscious girl's body get dragged off stage. It was an appropriate spectacle to end the night's bidding and if it wasn't for his sibling's eventual arrival to where he was located then the blonde haired man would have slinked off back to his dollhouse.

Her entrance however, resulted in a sour taste to spring into the doctor's mouth as a lumbering mass of flesh and hormones came tumbling after her, entering the sacred space of the backstage pavilion. Whilst Cassandra was half-heartedly permitted entry within the private backstage quarters her heaving hippopotamus of a cousin was not. Sandro did not possess her bubbly allure nor did he amuse the Crow like his ditzy relative. He was simply another oaf they performed business with, a man whose birthday was being celebrated this very night in their residence just because it could mean more chances of sales for them. Of all the creatures who had fallen from grace it was this man, a male who was once the peak of his aesthetic value now reduced to a calorie ridden crime lord who had nothing better to do than masturbate to his captive slaves. The very sight of seeing such an unkempt beast lay a finger on his beloved sibling stirred the wrathful fires of jealousy within Kasimir, how dare this glorified pig even gaze upon his darling sister! Kasimir could have sprung from his post then and there, plunging his cold limbs into the gangster's layers of fat and forcing the living monstrosity to choke on his own weight. But no, Kasimir silently watched on as his sister momentarily conversed with the sorry excuse of a man and waved him away. What now? Was she going to fuck him as well later? The very idea sickened the Crow to his very core and it wasn't until Allison finally addressed him did his suspicions wane.

"I would actually prefer not to attend but since we managed to sell every premium girl tonight I might as well...", he monotonously answered back, not caring for her small talk and darting his eyes away from her glimmering golden gaze. She was awfully beautiful, too divine to even look at, let alone scream at in frustration for presenting herself as such a gangster loving nymphomaniac. How could she even consider agreeing to having a meeting with that disgusting excuse of a man? Regardless of whether he happened to be one of the most dangerous crime lords in the country that still did not spur the Crow to join yhis little gathering.

Kasimir's jaw was clenched shut, the angular bones frozen in place as he waited for his sibling to leave for the office, he was going to join her soon. Glancing at Cassandra, who was still seated in the corner of the room, the man could not help but sigh in exasperation. The woman was now so intoxicated that her shrill laughter pierced the atmosphere with an unecessary level of noise, her cheeks red with exuberance and her lips curled into a perky smile. The young woman was not alone however, perched on her lap was the slavegirl she chose for herself, a pretty redhead with skin as smooth and as pure as porcelain. Cassandra coddled the teenager, resting her chin on the girl's shoulder whilst she played a variety of senseless games with the rather confused slave's arms. Relatively speaking, the redhead was probably the luckiest of the premium girls that night, Cassandra was well known for actually taking care of her purchases and it was unproved rumour that she even smothered them with rewards if they were good, and with a master as lenient as Cassandra being 'good' wasn't necessarily a hard task.

Striding over to the giggling woman and her dazed companion Kasimir pursed his lips and offered her a hand to get up, she was obviously not going to manage to walk regardless of whether she was wearing her heels or not."Come now, Sandro has demanded a meeting and I think you're presence may just make this unfortunate get-together a bit more entertaining.." , Kasimir flatly stated, raising his brow at the woman as she gazed up at him with content bliss.

"I think...I think you're right. Like...you know, Sandro is..well he's a dick sometimes haha and..oh hey this uhh..this collar says Cherry is pure...aww no one has popped Cherry's cherry yet!", Cassandra squealed, ecstatic with her new finding, the wonders of alcohol had apparently opened her eyes to the facts unseen before. The woman's arms lazily uncoiled off of her slave's waist and clasped onto kasimir's arm, a silly grin plastered on her ruby red lips.

"You named her Cherry? I'm not even going to say anything about that..."", Kasimir uttered, blankly staring at his excitable acquaintances as he attempted not to cringe at the choice of name. If it had anything to do with the girl's hair colour then that made Cassandra the most inventive person in the world, how on earth she made that colour connection whilst drunk was truly a wondrous feat to accomplish. Not.

Hoisting the woman off the couch and into his arms, Kasimir started the slow and careful procession to the business room, ensuring that Cassandra would not force him onto floor during her stumbling trek alongside him. 'Cherry' silently followed behind them, her bare feet barely making a sound against the polished tiles as she meekly allowed the duo to lead her into the bowels of the mansion. The girl was terrified in Kasimir's presence, knowing full well how evil the Crow was even when he was tending to her drunk mistress, the fact that he even bothered to assist Cassandra scaring the teenager even further.

Kasimir's slow procession was a silent one, he barely listened as Cassandra rattled on about her new car or her favourite fantasy, her voice was simply white noise. The Doctor eventually reached a pair of large mahogany doors, swaztikas expertly carved into the gold plated doorknobs that glistened against the lacquered wood. After entering a numbered code in a silver number pad next to the entryway, the doors silently swung open revealing the occupants within the well lit meeting room. Two armed thugs stood by the entryway, their stoic forms blatantly disrupting the royal reds and luscious earthy tones within the well furnished room. Sandro must've thought it safer to bring his men into the private meeting space, was he fearful of Allison? The possibility was believable and it did not take long at all for the beauty hunter to spot his sibling, seated on a grand leather couch opposite the bulbous crime lord. Not even acknowledging the two thugs the well dressed doctor strode into the room with Cassandra hanging against the side of his body, her arm draped around his shoulder.

"Oh hey cousin...and...and uh Allison, we were just talking about you..", the intoxicated brunette blurted out, completely ignoring the strained whimper 'Cherry' made upon seeing the Spider once again. Sandro merely chuckled at his relative's silliness whereas Allison was more than likely not appreciating having such a boisterous distraction in her office space, even more so having a slavegirl in her presence.

Without much warning and little to no concern for what his sister thought of this peculiar entrance Kasimir placed the giggling woman on a couch to the far end of the room. Yanking 'Cherry' to her mistress' side the doctor forced the frightened girl to kneel next to Cassandra, she had to at least show some semblance of respect in front of her old mentor. The red headed girl silently gasped and forced all of her attention on the drunken mess in front of her, anything to distract her from the Metzgers was good enough...even a woman who thought it funny to squeeze her cheeks.

Swivelling his head towards his sister and their 'esteemed guest', Kasimir silently slinked forward with a blank facade, his icy gaze falling upon the unsightly mass of flesh that still dared to stare at Allison.

"Why exactly have I been summoned? Your birthday party not good enough?", Kasimir uttered, the ice in his words only noticeable to someone like his sibling. This was surely going to be an interesting sequence of events, he was sure of it.

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