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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Jun 17, 2008 22:08:06 GMT -8
He would let go of her wrist deciding now that it was for sure that they would have to go in to a sex shop to find her a maid outfit since he wasn't going to allow her dignity until she earned it.
"Oh I am sure we will find something suitable for you to wear. And if not I suppose you could always do it in the nude." He would say with a shrug as he started to head to the truck. He would let out a whistle like one would for a dog. It would be her signal to come. And once again he fully expected her to come to him. She may not like it but he thought she would.
Should she follow him to the truck he would hop in to the drivers side and wait for her to get inside the truck before taking off from the park quickly since he felt the speed limits in this city were too slow.
Should she not follow him he would walk over to her and he would drag her to the car by her hair since he felt pain was the best teacher. Either way he intended to have her in the car.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jun 17, 2008 22:14:54 GMT -8
Bastille of course didn’t understand the whistle. She was to busy being stunned by nude. Though in her mind she completely reveled in the fact he wouldn’t be the first man to see her completely ass naked. Not that she had actually done anything with them, her cloths had just been so beaten up the guy felt inclined to take her out of them. Bastille had been unconscious for the entire experience and woke up that way. That man being of course the blond bastard. He too had fought her to make her his slave. She had actually won by rather dirty and shallow means but passed out so soon after he had time to do with her as she wished. She didn’t mind the thought as much as she should. That bothered her A LOT.
She tossed herself towards her bag and sword and lopped both into their respective places on her person. She glared at him as he grabbed her hair and only smirked as he dragged her along. It did hurt, but she didn’t care. Pain was no longer an instigator for anything with her. He should have learned that. She stumbled behind clutching her sword tightly.
“I hope you know im not paying for this ‘outfit’” she scoffed as she flipped herself over the side into the bed of his truck where she much preferred to sit.
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Jun 17, 2008 22:20:01 GMT -8
Mathew hadn't figured that out. He was going with what he knew. But he would learn to push her buttons just as he learned with Sophia. He let her go as she tried to get in to the bed of the truck but he wouldn't get in the car. Instead he would eye her and he would fold his arms over his chest as he looked at her with a gaze as hard as stone. A fire burned behind his green eyes and a weaker willed person then his new pet would probably cringe just at the sight of his gaze. HE didn't expect her too.
"You are to sit inside with me but leave your bag and sword in the back of the truck." He would say simple deciding what he should do if and when she tried to defy him. She was set on being stubborn about this. Which was diffrent then Sophia who accepted her fate but continually tried to take him down to earn her freedom. He would have to get used to the fact that she was not Sophia and couldn't replace her. But who know, in the end Bastille might actually be the better tool. Though a part of him couldn't help but wish he could have both. That would of course be ideal.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jun 17, 2008 22:25:58 GMT -8
Bastille turned with a snide smirk to look at him straight on as if nothing was the matter.
“yes master” she chimed as cheesed up as she could.
She flicked her hair behind her and stayed sitting as he explained his requirement. She then turned back to look at him with a brow raised. She was slowly figuring out his buttons too. Slowly…
She sat stock still and contemplating breaking the window to get into the front of the truck. She let that plan show on her face clearly. She however did not move and clutched her sword tightly to her body which quickly meant he would never get it out of her grip. That was one thing Bastille was sure of. Once she had a hand on her sword she did not let go. Even when she passed out her grip was iron upon its hilt.
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Jun 17, 2008 22:30:58 GMT -8
He didn't mind the name master if that was how she wanted to go he could deal with it. His gaze would stay the same as he continued to look at her with his emerald gaze unwavering. He would wait her out on this if he had too. But she would obey him one way or another. Even if he had to knock her out and pry her fingers open one at a time.
"Is my little pet deaf? I said drop your stuff and get in the front of the truck." He would say not caring if she went through the door or broke the window. As long as she did what he said. He wasn't going to hit her this time. He was going to use his words if he could or he would find another way to do it. But he was going to figure her out.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jun 17, 2008 22:40:49 GMT -8
She smirked. His impatience was amusing. She could wait. She gripped tightly to her sword with one hand. One could almost hear her muscles protest they where stretched so tight in her grip. Her knuckles white from it. However with the other hand she began attaching it to her waist by the straps. She buckled them then turned over and curled her body around the sword, not caring about her duffle bag. She looked over her shoulder once at him then shrugged and turned back to continue her iron grip.
He would have to carry her to the front sword and all before she went. She closed her eyes preparing for sleep. She liked pet better then princess. This way she didn’t sound half as snotty. She let her body tighten as the muscles formed an iron strong hold against her favorite possession. Her most prized she didn’t risk bringing to school. That was locked in her parents home. Her gun…slick…oh how she missed that devil. It was so perfect, the aim the everything. And her family regalia the “Le Chevalier” her prized rapier. All was tucked safely away for her to use only on formal occasions. She wanted her gun right about now. Shooting Mathew seemed like an entertaining though.
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Jun 17, 2008 23:04:25 GMT -8
A grin would cross his face as he climbed in to the truck standing in front of her so that the difference in height was very obvious. This was done because naturally the taller person is dominant and it is often harder to stand up to someone when you have to look up at them. This alone takes away one of the advantages that Bastille had while he was on the ground and she was in the truck. He wasn't going to hit her this time, not yet anyways. Instead he was going to talk to her and he was going to treat her like a child that needs to have everything explained to her. He was going to strip away her pride and dignity.
"I see you obviously don't understand what is going on. So I need to explain it to you. You see when I tell you to do something you need to do it quickly and promptly. Sure it may not seem important but this is all training for when it is. After all I would hate to see that pretty face of yours beaten and destroyed because when I gave an important order you decided to be a stubborn bitch. I want you to keep in mind that you will not win this and if you try it is just going to be a long and hard life for you." He would say still looking down at her. His tone was that of an adult talking to a child that was too stupid to understand something simple. Irritation and impatience were not in his voice so much as a mocking scorn for her obvious idiocy.
"We can do a power struggle if you want but I won't be nice if it comes to that. Or you could put down the sword and get in the truck and I will buy you a treat for being such a good girl." He would continue trying to embarrass and demean her to strip away her stubborn pride.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jun 17, 2008 23:15:07 GMT -8
Bastille looked at him with a look that was somewhere between shocked, and extremely amused. Her lips twitch and she broke out into a fit of laughter. She pounded the truck with her fist laughing so hard it hurt. She was crying tears of laughter and amusement. She then caught her breath sitting up and moving towards him. One hand moved below her waist as she stood up and took a bow. “as you wish, your grace” she scoffed and shoved her sword through the back window promptly crawling through. She sat in the seat feet up on the dash continuing to giggle loudly as she continued to clutch her sword at her shoulder.
That entire things had driven her up the wall. This was easier then she imagined. If he thought baby scolding her was going to get him anywhere then a few laughs he was wrong. However she hopped he would continue. It would only make the relationship more interesting. She began to hum slightly stopping every few seconds to giggle. She kept the sword at her side as if nothing was wrong.
“I wonder what outfit im getting…something silky and nice like the blond bastard got me maybe” she let her imagination expand in her own little world of thought and amusement all anger gone.
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Jun 17, 2008 23:19:51 GMT -8
Wrong
That was the single thought that went through his mind when she shoved her sword through the back window of the car. He would once again grab ahold of her hair yanking back to pull her away from the window seperating her from her sword. His intent was to then pull upwards so that her feet would be off of the ground and she would be looking at him right in the eyes. His tone was still calm though he hoped this hurt a lot.
"Do you know what you did wrong?" He would ask still in that same tone that was devoid of anger and impatience. He was in no hurry and he meant every word he said. This could go easy or it could go hard. Apparently she wanted this to go hard
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jun 17, 2008 23:26:06 GMT -8
“yes…quiet clearly…and I don’t let go of my sword…its like my soul…take that away from me and your slavless like it or not I don’t survive without it. So you can have a slave or a corpse….pick or choose” she turned it on him just as quickly. She wasn’t wearing a smirk anymore however her voice was void of all emotion. It was odd how her eyes suddenly transferred to a clouded, distant state as her face was drained entirely of emotion. She wasn’t kidding. That sword held her life in it and if he was going to take it away she was going to act the part of a corpse. She was just as good as one without it. She was not loosing that. Not even if it was two feet away from her. She was clutching a piece of glass very tightly so her hand was bleeding. The sword yanked from her grip however…her hand still grasping for it.
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Post by Mathew Amtrum on Jun 17, 2008 23:53:17 GMT -8
"I see." He would say pondering what she said. There was a way to turn this to his advantage. He didn't care about the sword itself the reason he said to leave it in the back was practical. It was as simple as that. Like putting it in the trunk of the car. She was the one picking something very stupid to fight over in his opinion. He hadn't intended on taking it from her. It was like if they went in to a movie theater she wouldn't be able to take a sword there as far as he was aware they didn't let people walk places with weapons. Or going on a plane and having to put it through baggage.
He would laugh after his words though. He had thought she was smarter but now he had to wonder if she actually knew what was going on herself. Not to mention the drama she had over a piece of metal if it wasn't in her hand. It was like a baby with a pacifier only this baby could talk.
"And if I let you have it what then? You continue to be insolent and disobedient? Because honestly you are giving me very little reason to want to give you what you want since you seem to resist me on the simplest of things. Even simple things like getting in the car. So you tell me why I should let you have it?"
He thought he was being more then fair there. After all her threat was if he didn't he would lose his slave but his position was what slave? She couldn't even get in to the car without arguing with him. As of now she has given him no incentive at all to do anything for her other then beat the shit out of her. And he had to admit that was a tempting thought. He was not at all pleased with her attitude. Fire was good yes but she was such a spoiled brat he did not look forward to breaking it.
He could melt the sword or sell it for all he cared about it. It was just a hunk of metal to him. She was the one that seemed to be attached to it and that meant he had the power over her since she no longer had it in her grasp. It was in the front of the car. And if he needed too he could just knock her out and leave her here. Then she would never find the sword, he would make sure of that.
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Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jun 19, 2008 21:41:52 GMT -8
Bastille continued to look at him with no more emotion then someone who was just waking up from a coma. Her body grew tense and sleep was feigning on her. God fu** nicotine. And her being addicted to it. She had to admit, she was being pretty stupid, but she was in a bad mood, and her addiction problem was getting waaaay out of hand. All Mathew really had to do was give her a cigarette let her smoke for about five minutes and she would probably do everything he said for about a week there after. However she refused to give him the pleasure of that thought as her mind continued not to quite grasp that the sword wasn’t that important to her either. She had thought about it earlier…her other sword, her more precious one was at home. Wait a minute…
Bastilles mind went on hold as her staring contest with him was broken. Her nose especially attuned to the scent of cigarette smoke caught a familiar scent. She turned towards the direction and smiled. Ignoring him, again, she went to please her own whims and jumped out all together sliding past him with ease. She was flexible and small, so she got by fast. She found the guy and paid the pour man five whole dollars to get one cigarette to which she immediately poked between her lips and light walking back. After a long sigh and a few seconds of her getting her norm back she turned back to him with a bored look. Leaning on the side of her truck not even moving to her sword or the passenger seat she turned to look at him straight in the eye with a blank stare.
“Look Mathew, slaves don’t follow their masters, that’s working…people who are willing work, I told you slave, so of course expect childish and angry behavior its my job. Being childish is my job… however I know you plan to reform me, and its my job to try and stop you….but …” she smirked this time looking devilish and quite amused.
“your to much like ‘him’…you’ll find the button to push….and when you do, you’ll push it and change me again. All I can do I wonder how long it will take before im ripped down and to bring myself up again….”
She was no more talking to herself as she finished the cigarette in his angry silence. She ditched the sword leaving it and opening the door this time she slid herself into the side door and watched out the window quietly her sunglasses on now.
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