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All created stories have to follow . We do not allow any sexually related material. The Doll Palace will be enforcing this rule and completely blocking access to the accounts that disregard our policy and create sexually oriented stories.
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Hi, my name is Becca
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 | Stake Out :2: |
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 5 with 4 vote(s)
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| Created: 2009-01-11 14:26:01 |
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I hate stories that have plots. It seems those are the ones I never finish. And Ego impero is supposedly Latin, but I think I scre'wed up the translation. It's supposed to be the equivalent of 'I command it' but I doubt it.
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~2: Epidemic
Together, we walked towards the club. The sidewalk was wet but it wasn't from rain. By the smell of it, perhaps one of the sewers had thrown up. Oliver didn't notice the stench. We stood in the long line and waited silently. I recognized a few of the faces in line but most of these kids were out-of-towners. They were looking for fun on a boring Saturday night and they had dressed up for the occasion. You couldn't get into Epidemic just by showing up. No, you had to play the part.
I stared at the guy with the two foot mohawk in front of us. The bouncer didn't even respond. Instead, he let him in with a smile tugging at his lips.
He stopped us though. His eyes trailed along our bodies, searching for something that would give us away as innocent little suburban kids. In a simple glance, Oliver was completely average with his tight lavender pants and a Ghostbusters T-shirt. He had dressed down and acted as if he didn't care. That was more than enough to get accepted. His hair, of course, gave him the extra push. The bouncer nodded his head approvingly before turning on me. Even with my clear, slightly freckled skin, I wasn't Epidemic material. He could probably smell the fear on me.
Instead of questioning my shaking knees, he shrugged and dismissed us.
Oliver took my hand in his and took the lead again. Inside, the music washed over us. The flashing lights that were downright fatal to epileptics and Japanese children were able blind me, but Oliver smiled and shouted over the music something about getting us some drinks.
Before I could beg him to stay, he disappeared into the pulsating crowd. I was afraid of moving, afraid that I might do something completely harmless that someone else would consider a threat. I glanced at the crowd, quickly taking in the scene: ho'rny teenage boys and drunken easy girls, sex with clothes on, a lot of girl on girl action, a few transve'stites.
I did not belong here.
Instead of being crippled by my fear, I started towards the bar. While I tried to avoid being crushed by a mosh pit, I could feel a pair of eyes on me, watching me as I walked. I ignored the feeling and tried to locate Oliver. He usually stood out, but right now he was invisible in the crowd of multicolored hair extensions.
“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice cooed into my ear.
Without turning to face him, I shouted, “I don't like being in close proximity with strange sex robots.”
He chuckled, half amused. “Are you always so sarcastic?”
“I prefer to think of it as dry wit.”
I had stopped walking and I could feel his sweat dripping onto the top of my head. I looked up to see his rugged face. His angular jaw and thick eyebrows. I could even see his dark curls tumbling from under his highlighter orange top hat. Not including the hat, the thing that made him stand out was his pale skin. Almost as if he had never seen sunlight a day in his life. His pale, manly face with its jagged nose and coal-tinted eyes had managed to unnerve me.
“How old are you?” He asked, clearly trying to get me as interested in him as he was pretending to be interested in me. “Fifteen?”
“Sixteen and a half.”
He circled me closely, examining my feminine features before replying, incredulously, “Really?”
I ignored my urge to hurt him and continued my search for my best friend. The creepy stalker continued to stalk me persistently. I could smell him and his neediness.
“I'm Jason Taylor,” he chimed proudly, stopping me in my tracks again.
“I'm no one.”
He blocked me and tried to be charming, quite unsuccessfully.
“You're a very pretty no one. Can I buy you drink?”
Intending to be sarcastic, I ended up sounding bitter, “Were you planning on drugging me?”
“Hey!” I felt my heart skip a beat as the familiar voice acknowledged me. I welcomed him excitedly, brushing past the other boy and letting my fingers brush Oliver's arm briefly.
“I thought I told you to wait for me over there.”
He handed me a paper cup containing an unnatural lime-colored liquid. I took a sip of it. It was bitter and unbelievably sweet. I took another longer gulp. I choked on it before turning back to my stalker, Jason. He remained on the edge of our conversation, waiting for something useful so he could sweep in and steal me away.
“Do you want to dance?”
I blinked at Oliver, a mixture of confusion and disbelief clouding my judgment. Once again, I let him lead me. This time to the dance floor with several other sweating bodies. In fact, once we were a part of the crowd, I realized what a horrible idea this was. I couldn't dance. I didn't have the coordination necessary for it.
But Oliver refused to take no for an answer.
Without my permission, he began to grind his body on me. It was awkward in the worst of ways. I stood there trying to make sense of this horrible situation. No amount of therapy could ever make this right. As I stood there unmoving, I began to wonder if he noticed my trembling. My hands were shaking uncontrollably. I was not used to this kind of attention. Maybe Oliver was getting some kind of sexual gratification rubbing his genitalia on me.
It's dirtier when you keep in mind that he was almost eight inches taller than me.
Another body appeared behind me, thin fingers were placed on my hips and swayed them back and forth. I wanted to scream out, but Oliver was already laughing at the look on my face. I assumed that nothing bad could happen as long as he was by my side, my first mistake.
The music changed suddenly, slowing down but remaining upbeat. A dark-haired girl wandered over and pulled Oliver into her arms, seducing him with her body in ways that would make a stri'pper blush. She had tattoos covering every visible inch of her. Oliver was lost in her trance, suddenly ignoring me and stalker-boy, who decided to spin me around to whisper something in my ear.
“Ego impero.”
Blinking madly, I turned to face Jason. I looked up and waited for his instructions. His darkened eyes gleamed full of malice before he walked off, the crowd seemed to be parting for him. I followed, unwilling but unable to stop myself.
He stopped at the back of the club, near the back entrance where an EXIT sign flickered red then faded to black repeatedly. His hand reached up and he pulled me closer. I noticed an unexpected twinge of desire spark inside me. He was becoming almost irresistible.
“What's wrong with me?” I questioned out loud.
Smirking, he yanked my hair and forced me to look into his eyes. They had changed into swirling pits of fire. I began to grow aware of my surroundings and the lack of people. Far away from the rest of the world and completely isolated. I turned to face him and finally noticed his smile. More importantly, his teeth. The way they were oddly shaped. Pointed and dangerous. I didn't want to imagine how this would end. |
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