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Nok-Nok - July, 1997
Blood Red Rose, Nokturnulz


Subject: Nok-Nok
From: Nokturnulz@aol.com (Nokturnulz)
Date: Sat,26 Jul 97 02:24:30 EDT


The doors slam open as he walks into the Consortium, gritting his teeth. He slowly surveys the seemingly empty Hall with burning red eyes contrasting against his pale white face. He sneers, remembering where *her* room was, and muttering softly in a hoarse voice as she flashes through his mind. He walks to the door, his raggedy trenchcoat flowing slightly behind him as he meets the door. He knocks twice softly, but decides not to wait as a grin passes his stone-cold face, slamming his boot against the door and kicking it in. He walks in slowly, dragging cold white claws against the walls as he looks over *her* office.

His head tilts to the side as he hears a whimper coming from the corner. Slowly, he croutches down, his oily hair falling in his face as he listens. He then dives suddenly on the young boy hiding in the corner. He wears a collar that appears to be a silver chain. A cold mutter moves from his lips as he says *her* name as a question and the slave nods. A reassuring smile crosses grim face, red eyes flashing for a moment.

-*-

The door eases open a few days later and if you follow the claw marks, they can lead you to the young slave boy. He is strung up on the back wall with chains, but the striking thing that catches your eye are the two narrow cuts in the boys back, across his shoulder blades. Narrow cuts that are smeared into ovals, and when the light hits the old blood just right, it appears that they are two, glowing crimson eyes. Blood Red eyes........


Subject: Re:Nok-Nok
From: BldRedRose@aol.com (BldRedRose)
Date: Sat,26 Jul 97 16:56:55 EDT


::slinking into her office one evening, after an absence of several days, she shrugs off a night-black velvet wrap and tosses it unceremoniously into the chair across from her desk, along with a large shopping bag, which she drops onto the pile... in the same moment, the torchlight around the office springs to unnatural life, disturbing the gloom and casting a glow over the rich wood and leather surfaces::

::the first sight to greet her is that of the slave boy, the crimson of dried blood startling against his fragile skin, and even more startling is the eerie sight of a pair of eyes formed by the congealed mess... but as her gaze travels to the side, following the shredded trail across the wood panelling, she recognizes a pair of claw marks that could only have come from one source::

::a distant memory of the very same pattern, traced across her own shoulders, brings the swell of her chest rising and falling in a dramatic pant, her senses suddenly reeling and awash with pleasure::

::a gloved hand gripping tightly to the back of her office chair, her full lips curve upward in a slow, malicious grin::

::her breathing ragged with dark desire, her gloved fingertips flex and contract, but finally, she speaks to herself, her velvety purr laced with appetite, her eyes heavy-lidded with passion::

<sw> He paid a visit... and left me a gift... how thoughtful...

::a song of cruel pleasure trilling in her heart as she imagines the pain the slave boy must be feeling, she drifts towards him, running a gloved fingertip gingerly along the length of one of the cuts, then lifts said fingertip to her lips, lapping out at the coppery residue::

<sw> Well, I'll have to be sure and return the favor some time soon... ::she coos::