_CADRE_
Magistrate
Prologue -- Poor Samira
Poor Samira. Always getting herself into trouble. In any place, in any time, and in any life, she always somehow finds herself nailed to a cross. Be it for the personal entertainment of one being, or a public spectacle, the unfortunate creature called Samira always meets her end whilst hanging from a cross.
A ghastly dance with her cross, but the hapless Samira dances it often. And though she takes no pleasure in this gruesome dance, she dances it like no other. Lustrous movements, tantalizing moans of pain, and slithering snake-like movements up and down the cross; Samira's sleek and slender body is the picture of beauty. She is a beautiful creature that has been cursed with bad luck, ill-fated luck that somehow always has her crucified. A terrible punishment. A punishment wherein her mind yearns for death, though her pierced and tortured flesh clings to an agonizing end to life. While hanging from her pierced wrists, Samira evinces the apogee of feminine beauty while on the cross.
It was not always this way. Samira had once been a normal 21-year old woman living a normal life. Normal, yet still beautiful beyond belief. Fate had gifted her a gorgeous face, well endowed breasts, thin waist, sleek hips, and long legs. It was these gifts that were to be her undoing. For Samira knew well that she was more beautiful than most, and she enjoyed the benefits of her beauty often. Men flocked to her as surely as the sun rises. Women lusted after her physique, and their jealousy burned like embers in a fire. Indeed, with her beauty, Samira was as a goddess wherever she went, ruling the lesser human beings around her.
Though there were those among the men and women who were dissimilar altogether.
Demons, demi-gods, and fallen angels. They walked the earth ever since there was an earth to walk upon. These beings could not control their desires for human touch, and the carnal indulgences humans offered them. These humans were never the wiser that they were binding themselves with these hidden creatures, for they disguised themselves well. Their outward features made them seem as any other man or woman.
So, it was on a night that Samira unknowingly encountered one of these creatures that she sealed her ill fate.
The bar was full to the brim. A man moved to sit next to a woman sitting at the bar as a place had just been made vacant. He was very handsome and attractive. The woman that he sat down next to was beautiful as well, though in fact, she was no woman at all. She was a fallen angel, and she had her eyes upon him all evening. She had refused conversation with her previous suitor so that the space would open up next to her, and she hoped that he would come. Now that he was, the conversation started quickly.
The man set his hand gently upon hers as they laughed together. She wanted him. She moved her hand enticingly to his knee. He was as good as hers. The fallen angel would indulge herself tonight, and she would enjoy every moment with this human. Everything was going well. That is, until a vacant spot opened up on the opposite side of the man, and Samira sat herself arrogantly next to him. It did not take long for the man to turn his head, and glance at her. The fallen angel drew his attention back to herself by sliding her hand a little further up his thigh, and he reluctantly turned his attention back to her.
But Samira was interested in this handsome man as well, and her pride would not let her back down. When she was in full character, she was irresistable. So she made to steal his eyes once again. Samira had no idea what this woman was, nor any notion of fallen angels. She only knew that the longer this man gave his attention to the other woman rather than her, her irritation grew.
To that end, Samira audaciously placed her hand upon the man's thigh, close to his manhood. Her fingers slid their way onto his inner thigh.
He turned his head back to look at Samira, and she looked at him lasciviously. It was enough. He dropped the fallen angel as quickly as if she was a weight holding him under water. This was quite rude of him, but given how divine this new woman was that was sitting next to him, he didn't care. He was now Samira's, and the fallen angel had been spurned.
She glared not at the man that had dropped her, but rather at the woman who had stolen him from her.
She gnashed her teeth and quickly parted the bar. She walked briskly out the door, and waited. She waited for the woman to leave. She would work her will upon this woman, and make her suffer for her audacity. And she would do this many times over.
Such was the case when Samira left the bar. She was without the man. She had played him, and had left him disappointed and hollow. Samira smirked to herself contendtedly as she walked out of the bar and into the darkness. There, the fallen angel mer her fiercely. She grabbed Samira by her throat, and her eyes turned blood red and she bore her sharp demonic fangs. She squeezed her hand so tightly that Samira could not even hope to scream. The fallen angel wanted to rip her throat out. She wanted to tear her pretty face off. She wanted to make her low and destroy her. But that would not be enough. She wanted to make her suffer. This creature deserved more punishment.
And so, it was then that the fallen angel cursed Samira. She did not curse her with homeliness, nor poverty, nor ill health. No. The fallen angel instead laid a curse of six deaths upon Samira. Six unique times would Samira be forced to suffer a death that the fallen angel could lead her to. Six times would Samira be forced to endure any cruely, and six times would she die. Then, five times would Samira wake in her bed, and begin the next life that would end in death. Only after her last breath escaped her lungs the sixth time, would Samira's time on earth end, and her curse will have ended.
The fallen angel then loosened her grip on Samira's throat, and then she vanished into the darkness. Samira was so frightened by what had happened that she ran straight to her car, drove speedily home, and threw herself in bed. She convinced herself that it was simply the night's intoxication catching up with her. She fell asleep. When Samira woke the next morning, she thus began the first of six unique yet short lives that she would be forced to live before the fallen angel would acquaint Samira with her agonizing death. Samira breathed in and filled her lungs; she knew nothing of the curse, but it gripped her all the same.
Such was the ill-fated luck of Samira. In any life, and any time, she always finds herself nailed to a cross.
Chapter 1 -- The Exclusive Model
Part 1 -- The Viewing
"Ladies and gentlemen," the woman spoke. Her voice came in softly to the private booth that the man was sitting in. He leaned easily back in his chair.
"It is my privilege to welcome you to the 18th annual 'Exclusive Viewing.' We do hope that the evening's entertainment is to your satisfaction. This year, we introduce an entirely new line of lingerie, under garments, and nightclothes." The man was eager for the show to commence. He had frequented this exclusive event ever since it's second occurence. Indeed, it was not open to the public. He had paid some 10,000 pounds in order to just gain a seat.
"This year, our lovely model's name is Samira. At only 22 years of age, she is a rare find. A top-notch model, and winner of numerous beauty pageants, we know you will enjoy every moment." The man felt his temperature rising. Each year, the models grew more and more beautiful in his eyes, but he still had yet to set his eyes upon 'the elusive one' that he would truly indulge himself in. When he found her, he would lend himself to his darker desires with her...
"This year, Samira will sport some 50 items for your viewing pleasure." The woman continued over the faint speaker.
"The cost and various colors and sizes of the lingerie she will display can be easily found in the complementary pamphlet provided in each of your exclusive booths. Please wait, while the model prepares herself and the first articles of clothing on sale. The viewing will begin shortly."
The man leaned back casually in his chair. The little side-table next to him had the pamphlet that the hostess was speaking of. It also had an empty rocks glass and a small bottle of scotch. While he waited, he poured himself a small sample, and imbibed it deeply. He waited patiently for this 'beauty' called Samira to present herself to the patrons.
Each booth was separate from the next. Less than five, this event was indeed very exclusive. Moreover, each booth was secluded from the stage by one-way glass, meaning that each patron could see the model, though she could not see them. Over the speaker, enticing and relaxing music played very softly. Wordless music that was very seductive and sexual in nature; all the better to enhance the mood of the viewing.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the lovely Samira is ready." And, at that, Samira walked out into the narrow hallway, and onto the center stage. All the patrons rested their eyes upon her. As the man saw her, his mouth opened wide. The effect was total.
Samira strutted out on to the stage wearing ballet heels, sheer panty-hose, sheer arm-stockings, a delicate heart-shaped necklace, and nothing else.
Truly, a goddess to behold. He could not draw his eyes from her body. He stared at her as though she was the last thing he would ever see. It was her. It would be her. He would see her in participate in his dark desires if it was the last thing he ever did...
~ To Be Continued ~
Poor Samira. Always getting herself into trouble. In any place, in any time, and in any life, she always somehow finds herself nailed to a cross. Be it for the personal entertainment of one being, or a public spectacle, the unfortunate creature called Samira always meets her end whilst hanging from a cross.
A ghastly dance with her cross, but the hapless Samira dances it often. And though she takes no pleasure in this gruesome dance, she dances it like no other. Lustrous movements, tantalizing moans of pain, and slithering snake-like movements up and down the cross; Samira's sleek and slender body is the picture of beauty. She is a beautiful creature that has been cursed with bad luck, ill-fated luck that somehow always has her crucified. A terrible punishment. A punishment wherein her mind yearns for death, though her pierced and tortured flesh clings to an agonizing end to life. While hanging from her pierced wrists, Samira evinces the apogee of feminine beauty while on the cross.
It was not always this way. Samira had once been a normal 21-year old woman living a normal life. Normal, yet still beautiful beyond belief. Fate had gifted her a gorgeous face, well endowed breasts, thin waist, sleek hips, and long legs. It was these gifts that were to be her undoing. For Samira knew well that she was more beautiful than most, and she enjoyed the benefits of her beauty often. Men flocked to her as surely as the sun rises. Women lusted after her physique, and their jealousy burned like embers in a fire. Indeed, with her beauty, Samira was as a goddess wherever she went, ruling the lesser human beings around her.
Though there were those among the men and women who were dissimilar altogether.
Demons, demi-gods, and fallen angels. They walked the earth ever since there was an earth to walk upon. These beings could not control their desires for human touch, and the carnal indulgences humans offered them. These humans were never the wiser that they were binding themselves with these hidden creatures, for they disguised themselves well. Their outward features made them seem as any other man or woman.
So, it was on a night that Samira unknowingly encountered one of these creatures that she sealed her ill fate.
The bar was full to the brim. A man moved to sit next to a woman sitting at the bar as a place had just been made vacant. He was very handsome and attractive. The woman that he sat down next to was beautiful as well, though in fact, she was no woman at all. She was a fallen angel, and she had her eyes upon him all evening. She had refused conversation with her previous suitor so that the space would open up next to her, and she hoped that he would come. Now that he was, the conversation started quickly.
The man set his hand gently upon hers as they laughed together. She wanted him. She moved her hand enticingly to his knee. He was as good as hers. The fallen angel would indulge herself tonight, and she would enjoy every moment with this human. Everything was going well. That is, until a vacant spot opened up on the opposite side of the man, and Samira sat herself arrogantly next to him. It did not take long for the man to turn his head, and glance at her. The fallen angel drew his attention back to herself by sliding her hand a little further up his thigh, and he reluctantly turned his attention back to her.
But Samira was interested in this handsome man as well, and her pride would not let her back down. When she was in full character, she was irresistable. So she made to steal his eyes once again. Samira had no idea what this woman was, nor any notion of fallen angels. She only knew that the longer this man gave his attention to the other woman rather than her, her irritation grew.
To that end, Samira audaciously placed her hand upon the man's thigh, close to his manhood. Her fingers slid their way onto his inner thigh.
He turned his head back to look at Samira, and she looked at him lasciviously. It was enough. He dropped the fallen angel as quickly as if she was a weight holding him under water. This was quite rude of him, but given how divine this new woman was that was sitting next to him, he didn't care. He was now Samira's, and the fallen angel had been spurned.
She glared not at the man that had dropped her, but rather at the woman who had stolen him from her.
She gnashed her teeth and quickly parted the bar. She walked briskly out the door, and waited. She waited for the woman to leave. She would work her will upon this woman, and make her suffer for her audacity. And she would do this many times over.
Such was the case when Samira left the bar. She was without the man. She had played him, and had left him disappointed and hollow. Samira smirked to herself contendtedly as she walked out of the bar and into the darkness. There, the fallen angel mer her fiercely. She grabbed Samira by her throat, and her eyes turned blood red and she bore her sharp demonic fangs. She squeezed her hand so tightly that Samira could not even hope to scream. The fallen angel wanted to rip her throat out. She wanted to tear her pretty face off. She wanted to make her low and destroy her. But that would not be enough. She wanted to make her suffer. This creature deserved more punishment.
And so, it was then that the fallen angel cursed Samira. She did not curse her with homeliness, nor poverty, nor ill health. No. The fallen angel instead laid a curse of six deaths upon Samira. Six unique times would Samira be forced to suffer a death that the fallen angel could lead her to. Six times would Samira be forced to endure any cruely, and six times would she die. Then, five times would Samira wake in her bed, and begin the next life that would end in death. Only after her last breath escaped her lungs the sixth time, would Samira's time on earth end, and her curse will have ended.
The fallen angel then loosened her grip on Samira's throat, and then she vanished into the darkness. Samira was so frightened by what had happened that she ran straight to her car, drove speedily home, and threw herself in bed. She convinced herself that it was simply the night's intoxication catching up with her. She fell asleep. When Samira woke the next morning, she thus began the first of six unique yet short lives that she would be forced to live before the fallen angel would acquaint Samira with her agonizing death. Samira breathed in and filled her lungs; she knew nothing of the curse, but it gripped her all the same.
Such was the ill-fated luck of Samira. In any life, and any time, she always finds herself nailed to a cross.
Chapter 1 -- The Exclusive Model
Part 1 -- The Viewing
"Ladies and gentlemen," the woman spoke. Her voice came in softly to the private booth that the man was sitting in. He leaned easily back in his chair.
"It is my privilege to welcome you to the 18th annual 'Exclusive Viewing.' We do hope that the evening's entertainment is to your satisfaction. This year, we introduce an entirely new line of lingerie, under garments, and nightclothes." The man was eager for the show to commence. He had frequented this exclusive event ever since it's second occurence. Indeed, it was not open to the public. He had paid some 10,000 pounds in order to just gain a seat.
"This year, our lovely model's name is Samira. At only 22 years of age, she is a rare find. A top-notch model, and winner of numerous beauty pageants, we know you will enjoy every moment." The man felt his temperature rising. Each year, the models grew more and more beautiful in his eyes, but he still had yet to set his eyes upon 'the elusive one' that he would truly indulge himself in. When he found her, he would lend himself to his darker desires with her...
"This year, Samira will sport some 50 items for your viewing pleasure." The woman continued over the faint speaker.
"The cost and various colors and sizes of the lingerie she will display can be easily found in the complementary pamphlet provided in each of your exclusive booths. Please wait, while the model prepares herself and the first articles of clothing on sale. The viewing will begin shortly."
The man leaned back casually in his chair. The little side-table next to him had the pamphlet that the hostess was speaking of. It also had an empty rocks glass and a small bottle of scotch. While he waited, he poured himself a small sample, and imbibed it deeply. He waited patiently for this 'beauty' called Samira to present herself to the patrons.
Each booth was separate from the next. Less than five, this event was indeed very exclusive. Moreover, each booth was secluded from the stage by one-way glass, meaning that each patron could see the model, though she could not see them. Over the speaker, enticing and relaxing music played very softly. Wordless music that was very seductive and sexual in nature; all the better to enhance the mood of the viewing.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the lovely Samira is ready." And, at that, Samira walked out into the narrow hallway, and onto the center stage. All the patrons rested their eyes upon her. As the man saw her, his mouth opened wide. The effect was total.
Samira strutted out on to the stage wearing ballet heels, sheer panty-hose, sheer arm-stockings, a delicate heart-shaped necklace, and nothing else.
Truly, a goddess to behold. He could not draw his eyes from her body. He stared at her as though she was the last thing he would ever see. It was her. It would be her. He would see her in participate in his dark desires if it was the last thing he ever did...
~ To Be Continued ~
