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Whoremonger
Topic Started: Mar 8 2010, 07:12 AM (343 Views)
Spooky
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The coin clinked together as Nevan dropped it into his pocket. He had just made the most interesting deal; and the most rewarding.

He shook the man's hand enthusiastically, before grabbing this month's offering; the prostitute with the lowest amount of paying costumers, by the name of Maggie. She was an affordable loss for her master. Due to her multiple phobias, one of which was a fear of genitals, she was more trouble than she was worth. Only the more sadistic men would pay for the redhead.

The deal was this; if Nevan captured the prostitutes of a rival whore master, this one (Liam was his name) would pay him for every one, without buying the whore. Not only that, but Nevan would get to play with whichever whore he wanted. And, once a month, he would get to do whatever he wanted to the whore who got the least money.

Nevan smirked. It certainly would motivate the prostitutes to work harder. Because they all knew what he did with his monthly prize. Or at least, they could assume, because the monthly prize would never again work.

Whistling a jaunty tune, the man pulled the woman by her long red hair into the nearest available room, taking his favorite toys with him; chains, shackles, a ball gag, a whip, and his obsidian dagger. The woman hardly reacted; she seemed accustomed to this type of treatment. Nevan couldn't help but to be disappointed, but it was okay. She'd be reacting soon enough.
Edited by Spooky, Mar 8 2010, 07:13 AM.
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Spooky
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Nevan smiled warmly at the girl as he pushed her into the room. Maggie stumbled in, her outstretched hand the only thing keeping her from bashing her head against the far wall. She turned around, and looked nervous, and with good reason. Nevan had somewhat of a reputation.

"Hello there, dear," he said happily, grinning at her.

The prostitute didn't respond. Her eyes widened, and she shrank against the back wall.

"Do you know how to put this on?" he asked, holding up the ball gag. Maggie nodded silently, and he tossed it to her.

"Well, then, get to it. My hands are big and clumsy. You can probably get it done faster than I," Nevan said, and then laughed, "Then again, I don't see why I'm in such a rush. We have all night together. I suppose I'm just overeager to get started."

Maggie's hands shook as she put the ball gag on herself. Once it was latched securely, she looked up at Nevan, fearfully awaiting his next orders. They stood there, silently staring at each other, for a full minute.

"Why the Hell are your clothes still on?" Nevan said after that minute, his voice turning cold.

She reached up to unlace her shirt, but Nevan didn't give her the chance. He strode forward, and literally tore the shirt from her body. It was a cheap fabric, and ripped easily.

The girl had scars all over her body, some from whips, some from knives. There were even a few burn marks.

"Someone got to her before me," Nevan thought irritably.
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Spooky
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Nevan grinned and grabbed the girl by the hair, forcing her to her hands and knees. He pulled down her skirt, and was satisfied to hear her whimper in response.

"What's wrong?" he asked, in a mockingly sweet tone, "One would think you're used to this by now."

To add insult to injury, he stroked her head gently a few times, before placing his boot in the middle of her back and slamming her to the ground. With a large smile, he held her under his foot. Maggie squirmed a bit, but didn't put up much of a struggle.

"Too submissive... Unless I can get her to try to fight, this is going to be dull," Nevan realized with much displeasure, "I'm going to have to hurt her sooner than I thought. A shame, I do so love the 'foreplay'."

He bent down and picked up the riding crop, and trailed it slowly over her naked flesh, teasing her. Nevan played with her like a cat plays with a mouse, occasionally giving her a light tap with the crop, just to see her flinch. And he waited. He waited until she relaxed, until she seemed comfortable, before he started the main game.

The crop cracked the back of her skull as hard as a wooden plank. Maggie let out a muffled cry of pain, and dazedly tried turning around to look at him. Nevan playfully tapped her on the cheek with the crop, and laughed as she tried to rise.

"You didn't think I was going to be gentle, did you? This is a punishment for you, and a reward for me," he said with a low chuckle, "The night is young, and we haven't even started yet!"

"Mmph!" the girl tried to reply, but she was foiled by the gag.

Suddenly, the girl heaved upward with such desperate force that Nevan was thrown off of her, and onto the ground. He would have laughed, if the floor's impact hadn't knocked the wind out of him.

"Finally!"

Nevan was on his feet in a flash. The girl tried to run for the door, but he caught her easily. There was a resounding crack and a thud as she was thrown against the wall. She sank down to the floor, but the man grabbed her hand and pulled her back up.

Then, searing pain.

The prostitute looked at her hand in confusion. There was a knife in it, pinning her to the wall. It was in too deep for her to have any hopes of dislodging it.

As she watched the blood leave hot trails down her arm, she felt similar trails on her cheeks as the tears fell freely. Maggie tried wrenching her hand away in desperation, but this only sent new waves of pain through her.

Nevan walked away, whistling the same tune as before. She watched him as he retrieved his sword. As he approached her with the gleaming blade, she tried to shrink away from him. But there was nowhere to go.

"So," Nevan said as he gently laid the edge of the blade on her thigh, "What should I take first? How about this leg... Surely you don't need that? It's not at all crucial to your job, is it?"

With that, he placed the point on her thigh, and slowly started twisting the sword. Gradually, the pressure increased, until there was blood running down her leg and flesh dangling in chunks. Maggie screamed, and she knew that Liam could hear her; no gag could be that stifling. But no one came to help her. And, with a sinking feeling, she realized that no one would.
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Spooky
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After five or so minutes of drilling at her skin, Nevan pulled the sword away. He wiped the blood off the sword on her cheek, grinning as she tried to edge her way out of it.

He leaned forward and kissed her bloody cheek, then backed up and licked the blood off his lips. With a grimace, however, he spat it out onto the floor.

"I let myself get too excited, and for that I apologize," Nevan said, bowing to the lady, "I almost let myself drink a whore's blood. That can't be good for me. But don't worry, you needn't concern yourself with my health. The crisis was averted."

He then held his sword parallel to the ground, right by the leg he had been mutilating.

"So, are you ready to be an amputee? You know, some men have a fetish for the wounded. You might be able to continue with your... promising career," the man said cruelly.

Maggie screamed as the sword hacked into the soft flesh of her leg. It was almost a clean cut, but the sword couldn't quite handle slicing the bone. Nevan sighed, and started slamming the sword repeatedly into the bone of her leg, trying to cut through it or at least snap it, urged on by the girl's heaving chest and agonized scream. Finally, he irritably withdrew his sword.

"Hold this for me," he said with a brief smile as he stabbed the sword straight through her free hand, pinning it to the door.

With that, he grabbed her calf, and placed a foot against her thigh.

"Brace yourself. This is going to hurt," Nevan said, almost kindly, before thinking to add, "A lot."

He pulled the calf upward, with all the force he could muster. There was a sickening snap of bone as he finally managed to get through it. With a grin, he pulled his sword out of her hand and finished what he had started. The severed leg fell to the floor, leaking blood under the door and into the hall.

"See, that wasn't too bad, was it, Maggie? ...Maggie?" he stopped, and waved his hand in front of her face, "Don't tell me you passed out already! I am quite disappointed in the quality of Liam's whores... His competitors' take quite the beating before they faint."

"Though I best not tell Liam that... I might be out of a job, and my monthly treat."

He sighed and sat on the floor, cleaning his silver sword in hopes that it wouldn't tarnish. Nevan could continue when she woke up. If she woke up.
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Spooky
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About ten minutes later, Nevan stood up and shook Maggie. She didn't respond. Gently, he placed his hand on her neck to feel her pulse. It was almost non-existant, faint as a cloud's shadow.

"What a shame. I didn't even get to try her out as a woman," he thought to himself sadly. Nevan was many things, but one thing he wasn't was a necrophiliac, and this woman was as good as dead.

With that in mind, he removed the knife from her hand and let her fall to the floor. Fresh blood spurted out at him, but he paid it no mind.

"Farewell," Nevan said simply, as he cut a deep gash down the woman's abdomen.

He reached down inside the cut, squeezing both hands inside, and through unnatural strength and willpower ripped the woman open. There was a sickening noise of tearing flesh as blood welled and organs died. If Maggie wasn't dead before, she certainly was now.

Nevan smiled to himself, and lathered the blood on his hands before wiping it off on her hair. He put his bloodied instruments of torture back into his bag; they would have to be properly sanitized later. And with a final look at the corpse cooling on the floor, he opened the door and walked out. His horse was waiting for him outside, and the beast got antsy when it was made to wait.

As soon as the slaver was gone, Liam peeked into the room, and promptly vomited onto the carcass. He would have to send in his entire staff to clean that room. For once in his life, he felt genuine remorse.

"May God forgive the three of us," Liam thought privately, praying for his soul, the soul of the prostitute, and the soul of the man riding away on the black gelding.
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