Chance lived in the dark side of the station. Cat calls and sticky floors; the kind that audibly suctioned to the bottom of her stilettos. Her skirt’s hem was always too short. No matter where she intended to go, she took a clutch purse, the strap swinging lazily in time to calculated clicks against metal grating. The air was sterilized for the hub city, but that didn’t help the ground level industrial sectors, and those occupying lower levels shielded their faces with personal ventilation masks. Chance stood out without trying - no mask, no inkling of concern for potential hazards in the atmosphere. The world might change, and her living situation could very well cease to be considered normal, but Chance Arden rarely approved of seeming mundane.
Change was good. Or, someone had told her that was the case. In her case, it wasn’t always favorable.
Despite constant smog and the Technicolored haziness of the lower sector’s red light district, Chance looked impeccable. Hence the obscene sounds the passerbys made, their muffled hoots and shouts of hyped masculine encouragement bringing a feigned blush to her cheeks. Had she really expected anything different? Another night, another set of rounds to make. Her life wasn’t all about looking good. On the contrary, there was business down in the belly of the station, and the Fae had obligations to meet. There were countless limitations to being Fae, but her least favorite involved contracts, and those she had made were very few and far between. It was best this way. The last thing she needed was additional baggage regarding liaisons and their significance in her otherwise private life.
When one had a face the public recognized, it was best to keep it from shady venues like the one she was approaching. Unfortunately, Chance had never been particularly concerned with catching the public’s eye. Fantastical beings were news worthy. How could she possibly avoid leaving a trace when the future was one of surveillance and totalitarianism? Preposterous thinking was that Chance might somehow manage to avoid every scrutinizing sighting for the sake of her watcher. Lauri would be forced to work twice as hard to squash the rumors that circulated, but Chance needn’t waste time tip toeing through the contained orbital metropolis.
Benji Ruy had been, at one point in his career, the best known prize fighter this side of the galaxy. Had he not lost a fight against a start up named Leo Oskatar, he would be in the high rises towering above the red sector, snorting coke pixie dust off some mega model’s nipple. As history went, he lost, and the dominoes all fell one after another until Benji was resorting to working as a hired thug used by one of the local syndicates. His only way out was to forget his past, and resort to a life of crime he actively opposed for decades prior. His saving grace came in the form of one very familiar blonde. Long legs, an ass to write anthems over, and the best set of tits he would likely see in his prolonged life. He had never cum so hard in his life.
For Chance, he was another mediocre morsel put on her plate, though his open admittance post coitus left her feeling generous.
Tumbled in motel room sheets, the room was pitch black save for the light Chance’s eyes produced, though as she listened to Benji, the glow dimmed with the closing of her lids. “I really want to fix what I fucked up.” He muttered between inhales of his cigarette. “Ya know, losing wasn’t the real end for me. It was losing everyone close to me. Used to have, uh, a family in the ring… Guys I trained with, the dudes who popped up to learn a thing or two from a champ. Fuck, I miss feeling like I could help someone.”
“What’re you mumbling about?” When she asked, she didn’t sound nearly as eager to hear as she may have been, though he ignored the rudeness for explanation’s sake.
“I was a boxer a few years back, and I keep thinking I could get back into it.”
“Why did you stop?”
And so the story was shared, which Chance Arden accepted as a cause to pledge minor allegiance to for the time being. Life for the notorious blonde had been excruciatingly dull for several months aside from a murder or two to sate Loe’s appetite, which meant the Fae needed a hobby. A pastime. A project. So, a Benji would suffice.
“Would you like my help, Benji?”
Biting into the filter of his cigarette to capture it for steady holding, the male struggled to seat himself against the headboard. His muscles visibly ripped, his body nude and scarred like every fight he had ever been in was written across his flesh. Chance liked how weathered he appeared, his features those of someone in their late thirties while his body seemed built upon youthful vigor and childhood promises. His dreams still clung to a battered body, and in her lust for such attributes, Chance felt spiritually nourished by his cause. How this was possible, she hadn’t the faintest idea. What she knew was he would need a contract, and for that to happen, he would need to be prepared. His silence didn’t satisfy the Fae.
“Benji, what if I told you I could help you - and all you need to do is start stroking your cock for me.” Eerie blue hues flickered open, though this time, the light was directed over her companion’s lower half. Muscled thighs were spread, one hand resting atop the leftmost. He visibly shifted as his other hand took the dying cigarette and directed to towards a crushed end in the bedside ashtray. “I mean it, you know.” Chance added with the ghost of a smirk stealing her features. “Unless you don’t want to give it a shot…”
“You’re a crazy broad, you know that?” But he smiled almost enthusiastically as his now free hand gripped his member like a man seasoned in self satisfaction. “Gonna watch me get off, and that’ll solve my problems? Sure you don’t wanna go again? I could definitely go again-” A few solid strokes, and Benji was back to his usual veiny girth, which Chance knew had fucked hundreds of women before his inevitable fall from fame.
“Oh, we’re going again.” Chance moved fluidly as she rose from the sheets, her body little more than shapes without any lights in the room. Her gaze was fixated on his form, on what he was doing, and there wasn’t much thought to whether he needed to see her body to reach peak performance. Teasingly, she crawled over his lap and rose to her knees, letting him feel the heat of her sex over the head of his cock. “And this time, you need only to tell me what your heart desires most. Tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you what I want - my one desire from you… And we’ll make a contract. We’ll be bound, Benji. You’ll be mine, and I will be yours.” Until the contract is fulfilled. That’s the part she never bothered to elaborate on, being she was a horrible being hellbent on ruining lives rather than save them. Still, he got the gist of what she offered.
His skepticism must not have been as obvious as it seemed on his expression, because in the wake of her body tempted his now throbbing erection, Benji Ruy nodded. “if it’ll get you back onto my dick, I’ll do it. I’ll be your daddy-”
This would be the one time Chance paused, and it was to cover Benji’s mouth with her palm to whisper. “You’re not my daddy, and he would be very upset if you called yourself such.” Perhaps this would have been the time for awkwardness, but Chance was trying hard not to think of Eneru, and fucking someone else helped in the moment. Briefly. At least, it would have helped had he not mentioned that word like he knew what it meant to the woman. Her eyes closed to once more enhance the feeling of Benji pushing through her tight folds, but her mind was increasingly focused on other things. First, on Eneru’s cock. On the way it stole her breathe right from her throat when he held her down and didn’t ask which hole he could claim. Then, onto what it meant to be entirely safe for one sweet moment. On to what they had been before their lives took separate paths.
Chance moaned and released Benji’s mouth to catch hearing his groans, but her mind formulated imagery favorable to what she truly wanted. Her hips were held, his grip slamming her ass downwards so it spread over his thighs, and his fingers kneaded into the supple flesh in attempts to further spread her cheeks. Each thrust he succeeded to make upwards was only to close the gap Chance created when she pushed away with her knees. Her lips met his, and while she kissed him, Eneru was in the forefront of her thoughts. Over and over, she moved with practice a human wouldn’t have nearly enough life to perfect, and Benji reacted as was expected. He sped up, hardly willing to take the time to appreciate his prize; she tasted his greed and relished in it. “Tell me now, Benji…” It was a whimper, a coo - the sound of a woman enthralled. She wanted to hear his words to seal the contract. “What do you want?”
“I-I want…” He groaned, his features twisted as he tried not to lose his concentration, and finish too quickly. “I want to start a gym and… Oh god, you’re so fucking tight. I could fuck you straight for a week, you fucking slut. God, I-” Chance kissed him again to stop his list of demands before they escalated any further, though when he seemed at the peak of his climax and the twitches of his cock became inevitable, Chance mouthed, “Eneru.”
The warm gush of his cum leaking from her filled cunt was exhilarating in ways Chance had yet to get tired of, though when she orgasmed, the credit belonged elsewhere. If she had a nickel for every faceless fuck who had brought her back to her roots without knowing it, she would be twice as rich. Her body eased weakly against his chest, and Benji was gentle. He held her in his lap, even if she would much rather it be someone else keeping her close. This time, when her eyes closed, they would stay closed for the remainder of their evening. “You’ll have it all, Benji. Back on your A game, champ.”
“I like that… Like when you call me champ.” He panted, smelling of cigarettes and sweat and raw sex. Chance didn’t seem to notice.
“I can give you that much… Champ.”
Chance walked into the gym like she owned the place. In her defense, she partially did. How else would she have held up her end of the bargain? The week of straight sex had been the hard part, but only because Benji kept trying to get emotionally attached, and Chance didn’t need a lover. The whole thing had been something of a bore. Now though, it was prime time to cash in on her end of the bargain and her mood at present couldn’t have been a better one. Ignoring the various equipment and scattered weights left scattered about, she headed towards the back office and opened the door without bothering to knock. Benji was hunched in his chair over a tablet, his finger flicking absently over the digital face. “Closed, bud. Sorry ya didn’t catch me earlier.” When he looked up after the door remained open, his mood shifted slightly to express an almost grateful smile. “Oh, Chance. Ya caught me offguard.”
“I’ve heard that before.” The Fae mused quietly as she retrieved a small envelope from her purse. Extending it towards the male, she nodded slowly. “I’ve come for my part of the contract.”
His eyes ventured to the letter, then back up to Chance, before he took it from her hand. “Yeah? Don’t tell me you want someone dead… I’ve never been a killer. I just don’t got it in me.”
“No, not dead. Actually, you’re just going to play messenger for me.” The Fae explained when the note had exchanged hands. “Deliver this to who I ask you to deliver it to, and we’ll be even. Completely square.”
“You throw close to a million credits at me, and you want me to deliver a note? Really?” Placing the object of interest on his desk, his palms rose to brush over his features. “Are you sure this isn’t like, I dunno, a hit notice? Fuck, you’ve got me panicking and I-”
“No, champ.” Chance replied, her demeanor calm and her voice remaining airy and light. “Nothing to do with anyone dying.”
“Then who am I gonna be giving this to?”
“Oh, you’re going to give it to Daddy, of course.” The mask of calmness split into an all too pleased grin. “I just heard he’ll be on the station in a few days.”
The air around them was suddenly thick with jealousy, which immediately sparked a sense of wanton deep in the Fae, though she would do her best to ignore it’s presence. “Why can’t you fucking give it to him?”
“That wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining. A woman must remain mysterious, after all. Besides, you can believe that he’ll find me when he reads it.”
Benji snorted before expelling an audible sigh of disappointment. “I know I can’t give ya anything you don’t already have, but couldn’t you give me a better job than tracking down some guy you haven’t fucked in a while? What makes you think he isn’t avoiding you?”
Chance clicked her heels with every step, hard against the off-white flooring, before resting her rear on the corner of the desk. “He has been avoiding me, actually… But when he knows I know he’s around… Well, that’s when the fun starts. He won’t be able to pass me up. Now, this is your side of the contract- can I trust you to deliver this to Eneru Killian?”
Begrudgingly, Benji nodded and waved a hand before lighting up a cigarette. “Fine. Fine? I’ll do it, alright?”
Quickly, Chance leaned towards the ex-boxer and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Check your email for the address. Just, you know, don’t fail me.” Or else.
Chance left the same way she had come, feeling accomplished for the first time in almost a year. Time moved so slowly here with the mortals, so when an event as important as Eneru’s arrival introduced itself into the mix, Chance felt obligated to put forth her best effort. Of course, she had never specified Benji couldn’t read what she had written, though the words would mean little, written in a language long dead. Still, Eneru would understand. If nothing else, he would appreciate the sentiment - or completely detest it. Either way, he would come to her.
‘Remember when I cooked for you? Let me do it again. I’ve gotten much better since the last time. I promise.’
Change was good. Or, someone had told her that was the case. In her case, it wasn’t always favorable.
Despite constant smog and the Technicolored haziness of the lower sector’s red light district, Chance looked impeccable. Hence the obscene sounds the passerbys made, their muffled hoots and shouts of hyped masculine encouragement bringing a feigned blush to her cheeks. Had she really expected anything different? Another night, another set of rounds to make. Her life wasn’t all about looking good. On the contrary, there was business down in the belly of the station, and the Fae had obligations to meet. There were countless limitations to being Fae, but her least favorite involved contracts, and those she had made were very few and far between. It was best this way. The last thing she needed was additional baggage regarding liaisons and their significance in her otherwise private life.
When one had a face the public recognized, it was best to keep it from shady venues like the one she was approaching. Unfortunately, Chance had never been particularly concerned with catching the public’s eye. Fantastical beings were news worthy. How could she possibly avoid leaving a trace when the future was one of surveillance and totalitarianism? Preposterous thinking was that Chance might somehow manage to avoid every scrutinizing sighting for the sake of her watcher. Lauri would be forced to work twice as hard to squash the rumors that circulated, but Chance needn’t waste time tip toeing through the contained orbital metropolis.
—
Benji Ruy had been, at one point in his career, the best known prize fighter this side of the galaxy. Had he not lost a fight against a start up named Leo Oskatar, he would be in the high rises towering above the red sector, snorting coke pixie dust off some mega model’s nipple. As history went, he lost, and the dominoes all fell one after another until Benji was resorting to working as a hired thug used by one of the local syndicates. His only way out was to forget his past, and resort to a life of crime he actively opposed for decades prior. His saving grace came in the form of one very familiar blonde. Long legs, an ass to write anthems over, and the best set of tits he would likely see in his prolonged life. He had never cum so hard in his life.
For Chance, he was another mediocre morsel put on her plate, though his open admittance post coitus left her feeling generous.
Tumbled in motel room sheets, the room was pitch black save for the light Chance’s eyes produced, though as she listened to Benji, the glow dimmed with the closing of her lids. “I really want to fix what I fucked up.” He muttered between inhales of his cigarette. “Ya know, losing wasn’t the real end for me. It was losing everyone close to me. Used to have, uh, a family in the ring… Guys I trained with, the dudes who popped up to learn a thing or two from a champ. Fuck, I miss feeling like I could help someone.”
“What’re you mumbling about?” When she asked, she didn’t sound nearly as eager to hear as she may have been, though he ignored the rudeness for explanation’s sake.
“I was a boxer a few years back, and I keep thinking I could get back into it.”
“Why did you stop?”
And so the story was shared, which Chance Arden accepted as a cause to pledge minor allegiance to for the time being. Life for the notorious blonde had been excruciatingly dull for several months aside from a murder or two to sate Loe’s appetite, which meant the Fae needed a hobby. A pastime. A project. So, a Benji would suffice.
“Would you like my help, Benji?”
Biting into the filter of his cigarette to capture it for steady holding, the male struggled to seat himself against the headboard. His muscles visibly ripped, his body nude and scarred like every fight he had ever been in was written across his flesh. Chance liked how weathered he appeared, his features those of someone in their late thirties while his body seemed built upon youthful vigor and childhood promises. His dreams still clung to a battered body, and in her lust for such attributes, Chance felt spiritually nourished by his cause. How this was possible, she hadn’t the faintest idea. What she knew was he would need a contract, and for that to happen, he would need to be prepared. His silence didn’t satisfy the Fae.
“Benji, what if I told you I could help you - and all you need to do is start stroking your cock for me.” Eerie blue hues flickered open, though this time, the light was directed over her companion’s lower half. Muscled thighs were spread, one hand resting atop the leftmost. He visibly shifted as his other hand took the dying cigarette and directed to towards a crushed end in the bedside ashtray. “I mean it, you know.” Chance added with the ghost of a smirk stealing her features. “Unless you don’t want to give it a shot…”
“You’re a crazy broad, you know that?” But he smiled almost enthusiastically as his now free hand gripped his member like a man seasoned in self satisfaction. “Gonna watch me get off, and that’ll solve my problems? Sure you don’t wanna go again? I could definitely go again-” A few solid strokes, and Benji was back to his usual veiny girth, which Chance knew had fucked hundreds of women before his inevitable fall from fame.
“Oh, we’re going again.” Chance moved fluidly as she rose from the sheets, her body little more than shapes without any lights in the room. Her gaze was fixated on his form, on what he was doing, and there wasn’t much thought to whether he needed to see her body to reach peak performance. Teasingly, she crawled over his lap and rose to her knees, letting him feel the heat of her sex over the head of his cock. “And this time, you need only to tell me what your heart desires most. Tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you what I want - my one desire from you… And we’ll make a contract. We’ll be bound, Benji. You’ll be mine, and I will be yours.” Until the contract is fulfilled. That’s the part she never bothered to elaborate on, being she was a horrible being hellbent on ruining lives rather than save them. Still, he got the gist of what she offered.
His skepticism must not have been as obvious as it seemed on his expression, because in the wake of her body tempted his now throbbing erection, Benji Ruy nodded. “if it’ll get you back onto my dick, I’ll do it. I’ll be your daddy-”
This would be the one time Chance paused, and it was to cover Benji’s mouth with her palm to whisper. “You’re not my daddy, and he would be very upset if you called yourself such.” Perhaps this would have been the time for awkwardness, but Chance was trying hard not to think of Eneru, and fucking someone else helped in the moment. Briefly. At least, it would have helped had he not mentioned that word like he knew what it meant to the woman. Her eyes closed to once more enhance the feeling of Benji pushing through her tight folds, but her mind was increasingly focused on other things. First, on Eneru’s cock. On the way it stole her breathe right from her throat when he held her down and didn’t ask which hole he could claim. Then, onto what it meant to be entirely safe for one sweet moment. On to what they had been before their lives took separate paths.
Chance moaned and released Benji’s mouth to catch hearing his groans, but her mind formulated imagery favorable to what she truly wanted. Her hips were held, his grip slamming her ass downwards so it spread over his thighs, and his fingers kneaded into the supple flesh in attempts to further spread her cheeks. Each thrust he succeeded to make upwards was only to close the gap Chance created when she pushed away with her knees. Her lips met his, and while she kissed him, Eneru was in the forefront of her thoughts. Over and over, she moved with practice a human wouldn’t have nearly enough life to perfect, and Benji reacted as was expected. He sped up, hardly willing to take the time to appreciate his prize; she tasted his greed and relished in it. “Tell me now, Benji…” It was a whimper, a coo - the sound of a woman enthralled. She wanted to hear his words to seal the contract. “What do you want?”
“I-I want…” He groaned, his features twisted as he tried not to lose his concentration, and finish too quickly. “I want to start a gym and… Oh god, you’re so fucking tight. I could fuck you straight for a week, you fucking slut. God, I-” Chance kissed him again to stop his list of demands before they escalated any further, though when he seemed at the peak of his climax and the twitches of his cock became inevitable, Chance mouthed, “Eneru.”
The warm gush of his cum leaking from her filled cunt was exhilarating in ways Chance had yet to get tired of, though when she orgasmed, the credit belonged elsewhere. If she had a nickel for every faceless fuck who had brought her back to her roots without knowing it, she would be twice as rich. Her body eased weakly against his chest, and Benji was gentle. He held her in his lap, even if she would much rather it be someone else keeping her close. This time, when her eyes closed, they would stay closed for the remainder of their evening. “You’ll have it all, Benji. Back on your A game, champ.”
“I like that… Like when you call me champ.” He panted, smelling of cigarettes and sweat and raw sex. Chance didn’t seem to notice.
“I can give you that much… Champ.”
—
Chance walked into the gym like she owned the place. In her defense, she partially did. How else would she have held up her end of the bargain? The week of straight sex had been the hard part, but only because Benji kept trying to get emotionally attached, and Chance didn’t need a lover. The whole thing had been something of a bore. Now though, it was prime time to cash in on her end of the bargain and her mood at present couldn’t have been a better one. Ignoring the various equipment and scattered weights left scattered about, she headed towards the back office and opened the door without bothering to knock. Benji was hunched in his chair over a tablet, his finger flicking absently over the digital face. “Closed, bud. Sorry ya didn’t catch me earlier.” When he looked up after the door remained open, his mood shifted slightly to express an almost grateful smile. “Oh, Chance. Ya caught me offguard.”
“I’ve heard that before.” The Fae mused quietly as she retrieved a small envelope from her purse. Extending it towards the male, she nodded slowly. “I’ve come for my part of the contract.”
His eyes ventured to the letter, then back up to Chance, before he took it from her hand. “Yeah? Don’t tell me you want someone dead… I’ve never been a killer. I just don’t got it in me.”
“No, not dead. Actually, you’re just going to play messenger for me.” The Fae explained when the note had exchanged hands. “Deliver this to who I ask you to deliver it to, and we’ll be even. Completely square.”
“You throw close to a million credits at me, and you want me to deliver a note? Really?” Placing the object of interest on his desk, his palms rose to brush over his features. “Are you sure this isn’t like, I dunno, a hit notice? Fuck, you’ve got me panicking and I-”
“No, champ.” Chance replied, her demeanor calm and her voice remaining airy and light. “Nothing to do with anyone dying.”
“Then who am I gonna be giving this to?”
“Oh, you’re going to give it to Daddy, of course.” The mask of calmness split into an all too pleased grin. “I just heard he’ll be on the station in a few days.”
The air around them was suddenly thick with jealousy, which immediately sparked a sense of wanton deep in the Fae, though she would do her best to ignore it’s presence. “Why can’t you fucking give it to him?”
“That wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining. A woman must remain mysterious, after all. Besides, you can believe that he’ll find me when he reads it.”
Benji snorted before expelling an audible sigh of disappointment. “I know I can’t give ya anything you don’t already have, but couldn’t you give me a better job than tracking down some guy you haven’t fucked in a while? What makes you think he isn’t avoiding you?”
Chance clicked her heels with every step, hard against the off-white flooring, before resting her rear on the corner of the desk. “He has been avoiding me, actually… But when he knows I know he’s around… Well, that’s when the fun starts. He won’t be able to pass me up. Now, this is your side of the contract- can I trust you to deliver this to Eneru Killian?”
Begrudgingly, Benji nodded and waved a hand before lighting up a cigarette. “Fine. Fine? I’ll do it, alright?”
Quickly, Chance leaned towards the ex-boxer and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Check your email for the address. Just, you know, don’t fail me.” Or else.
Chance left the same way she had come, feeling accomplished for the first time in almost a year. Time moved so slowly here with the mortals, so when an event as important as Eneru’s arrival introduced itself into the mix, Chance felt obligated to put forth her best effort. Of course, she had never specified Benji couldn’t read what she had written, though the words would mean little, written in a language long dead. Still, Eneru would understand. If nothing else, he would appreciate the sentiment - or completely detest it. Either way, he would come to her.
‘Remember when I cooked for you? Let me do it again. I’ve gotten much better since the last time. I promise.’
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
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Momento Mori [Closed] - by Kat - 09-11-2016, 11:00 PM
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