28-03-2019, 03:16 PM
So Night Follows Day Pt. 01
Lords of Acid's "Lover Boy/Lover Girl" blasted from inside the club. Julie Andrews, no relation to the actress of the same name, stood outside; watching everyone get turned away while smoking and tapping her foot. She snorted as she inhaled, contemplating taking another hit from the coke bullet in her pocket, but decided against it. She'd promised herself that she'd save the rest to do with Helena. If the fucking cunt ever got here.
A cab pulled up at that moment, and a purple-haired Helena Parker stepped out.
"Keep the change." Helena told the cabbie in French, tossing a $500 chip from the Casino Monte Carlo over her shoulder at him as she stepped out, meeting Julie's eyes with a predator's glare.
Julie opened her mouth to ask her girlfriend where the fuck she'd been when the could've-been track star quickly closed the distance between them and was upon her, placing her own mouth over Julie's and pinning the slightly-taller girl to the wall; her tongue playfully darting at Julie's still-miffed tongue until it relented and accepted Helena's invitation to dance.
"Hey, Girl." Helena said to Julie. She gave the kind of short, quick snort that Julie had been doing herself while waiting. "Sorry I'm late."
"Hey, Also Girl." Julie responded, licking her lips, and noticing with the predatory look in Helena's eyes replaced by happiness, that they were a bit glassy; making her realize her own probably were as well. "I was gonna ask what kept you, but I can still taste him." She smiled and reached into her purse. "If my eyes look like yours, it's shades time."
"This one deserved it." Helena responded, her own purse rattling as she searched it. "We had a great run at the tables on his dime, and he was good boy about being generous with the split, after." She winked at that. "Sent a quarter back home for Troy to invest and a quarter for any medical bills Propappou's got; or if I've taken care of those, something nice for himself. Cashed the third quarter."
They produced purple-tinted sunglasses, each held by one stem, flicked their wrists to extend the other, and put them on with one hand simultaneously, snickering as the cocaine made it extra funny, and she continued.
"I had twenty of these things left after that." She rattled her purse for emphasis. "So, I went 'Eh, what the fuck? This weekend, I'll be the biggest tipper Monte Carlo's seen until the next one!'"
She took Julie's cigarette while Julie fished the coke bullet out of her purse. Julie slipped it into Helena's hand when she took the cigarette back. Helena took an unsubtle snort and passed it back to Julie. Julie took a more ladylike hit and put it back in her purse.
"Ok." Helena said. "What're we after?"
"Before we begin, I should remind you of the rule: No breaking people up."
"Once!" Helen said with a playful shove, causing Julie to drop the cigarette. She crushed it out under the sole of her heel. "That happened once, and we made them forget and get back together!"
"Do you want to have that talk with Troy again?" Julie asked. "No, me either. So it's worth repeating."
"Ok, ok. Everyone gets to live happily ever after; got it, Princess Mesmera. Now, what's your flavor tonight?"
Julie thought for a moment. Like Helen didn't know what the answer would be, now that Troy Medina's name had been said twice.
"Greek." Julie said, almost without thinking. The shades concealed Helen's eye-roll. "Or Italian. You know, something Eastern Mediterranean for the guy. Surprise me on the girl. And Mistress' choice of fucktoys for the evening?"
"Oh, you need a special challenge, I think."
Helena put an arm around her girlfriend's waist and they started walking toward the door. Julie did the same with her own arm as they approached; watching the doorman make an English brunette their age work at flirting with him and to get in with her friends.
"I find myself in the giving vein, Princess Mesmera. That one there? He's not letting her in because she's 'cute and sweet,' but not what the Eurotrash inside would call 'hot.' Little Tin God, that one. But he'll keep letting her try. Because he knows that she just might get desperate enough to blow him, and he still won't let her in afterwards. Another story for the boys for him, a shameful memory to come back to for the rest of her life for her. Let's fix that.
"Bring her in and go find her friends. If that one's 'the cutie,' there's a wolf pack of richboys circling 'the hottie' and the others already. Pair them up or don't as you see fit. But that one and the hottest guy come back to the suite with us, Mistress. And, well, anyone else you see fit. Let's make this A Holiday to Remember for her."
Lords of Acid's "Lover Boy/Lover Girl" blasted from inside the club. Julie Andrews, no relation to the actress of the same name, stood outside; watching everyone get turned away while smoking and tapping her foot. She snorted as she inhaled, contemplating taking another hit from the coke bullet in her pocket, but decided against it. She'd promised herself that she'd save the rest to do with Helena. If the fucking cunt ever got here.
A cab pulled up at that moment, and a purple-haired Helena Parker stepped out.
"Keep the change." Helena told the cabbie in French, tossing a $500 chip from the Casino Monte Carlo over her shoulder at him as she stepped out, meeting Julie's eyes with a predator's glare.
Julie opened her mouth to ask her girlfriend where the fuck she'd been when the could've-been track star quickly closed the distance between them and was upon her, placing her own mouth over Julie's and pinning the slightly-taller girl to the wall; her tongue playfully darting at Julie's still-miffed tongue until it relented and accepted Helena's invitation to dance.
"Hey, Girl." Helena said to Julie. She gave the kind of short, quick snort that Julie had been doing herself while waiting. "Sorry I'm late."
"Hey, Also Girl." Julie responded, licking her lips, and noticing with the predatory look in Helena's eyes replaced by happiness, that they were a bit glassy; making her realize her own probably were as well. "I was gonna ask what kept you, but I can still taste him." She smiled and reached into her purse. "If my eyes look like yours, it's shades time."
"This one deserved it." Helena responded, her own purse rattling as she searched it. "We had a great run at the tables on his dime, and he was good boy about being generous with the split, after." She winked at that. "Sent a quarter back home for Troy to invest and a quarter for any medical bills Propappou's got; or if I've taken care of those, something nice for himself. Cashed the third quarter."
They produced purple-tinted sunglasses, each held by one stem, flicked their wrists to extend the other, and put them on with one hand simultaneously, snickering as the cocaine made it extra funny, and she continued.
"I had twenty of these things left after that." She rattled her purse for emphasis. "So, I went 'Eh, what the fuck? This weekend, I'll be the biggest tipper Monte Carlo's seen until the next one!'"
She took Julie's cigarette while Julie fished the coke bullet out of her purse. Julie slipped it into Helena's hand when she took the cigarette back. Helena took an unsubtle snort and passed it back to Julie. Julie took a more ladylike hit and put it back in her purse.
"Ok." Helena said. "What're we after?"
"Before we begin, I should remind you of the rule: No breaking people up."
"Once!" Helen said with a playful shove, causing Julie to drop the cigarette. She crushed it out under the sole of her heel. "That happened once, and we made them forget and get back together!"
"Do you want to have that talk with Troy again?" Julie asked. "No, me either. So it's worth repeating."
"Ok, ok. Everyone gets to live happily ever after; got it, Princess Mesmera. Now, what's your flavor tonight?"
Julie thought for a moment. Like Helen didn't know what the answer would be, now that Troy Medina's name had been said twice.
"Greek." Julie said, almost without thinking. The shades concealed Helen's eye-roll. "Or Italian. You know, something Eastern Mediterranean for the guy. Surprise me on the girl. And Mistress' choice of fucktoys for the evening?"
"Oh, you need a special challenge, I think."
Helena put an arm around her girlfriend's waist and they started walking toward the door. Julie did the same with her own arm as they approached; watching the doorman make an English brunette their age work at flirting with him and to get in with her friends.
"I find myself in the giving vein, Princess Mesmera. That one there? He's not letting her in because she's 'cute and sweet,' but not what the Eurotrash inside would call 'hot.' Little Tin God, that one. But he'll keep letting her try. Because he knows that she just might get desperate enough to blow him, and he still won't let her in afterwards. Another story for the boys for him, a shameful memory to come back to for the rest of her life for her. Let's fix that.
"Bring her in and go find her friends. If that one's 'the cutie,' there's a wolf pack of richboys circling 'the hottie' and the others already. Pair them up or don't as you see fit. But that one and the hottest guy come back to the suite with us, Mistress. And, well, anyone else you see fit. Let's make this A Holiday to Remember for her."
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