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- Aug 2, 2009
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Rudolph Quin is actually a character that I made, so ignore the fact that I have the same username. This story isn't about me.
Anyways, looking for a bit of critique. This was something I did for fun, but I'd just like to know if people like it and if not, then how I could improve it.
"Wow! What a surprise!" he definitely sounded surprised as he stood up from the bed, arms spread in a gesture of greeting. Should he have expected this? Probably. There hadn't been a direct line of communication between them since he'd called her about capturing Stewart. In hindsight, it probably would have been better to act as if nothing was wrong and given her a call at some point. Now his plan to disengage from her would be hindered slightly by her suspicions. No matter. Rudy could fix it. Afterall, she was crazy about him. Well...crazy, anyway.
Dark brown, doe-like eyes looked him up and down in the hospital issued clothes he'd been given - scrub pants, the fabric a mellow sea green topped by a too loose white shirt giving her a full view of his scrawny neck-line and the hint of a bandage on his chest just below the collar. And the rest of him seemed alright except for his face, swelling bruises having subsided leaving the ugly reddish and black coloring along with a bandaged and broken nose.
He walked forward a few steps giving her that ingratiating smile he knew got her fired up and said, "I know I should have called you to keep you updated, but it wasn't like I really had a moment to spare. I'm really glad to see you here now, though, Noel."
Her rosebud lips curved ever so slightly downward at the way he addressed her, no other reaction passing over her youthful features. The response was immediate within him, that grin disappearing as he registered what he'd done wrong. "Sorry. Ma'am," he corrected himself, swallowing thickly as she blinked in approval and stepped fully into the room. As she let go of the door and it clicked heavily back into place, he tried to stifle the worried glance he gave it, instead focusing on her as she sauntered towards him, hips swaying threateningly.
Disarming white buttoned blouse with neckline dipping low but not beyond a professional barrier, her neck was accented with a soft looking, black scarf, untied and wrapped around once, the ends falling over her shoulders on her back. And her smooth curves were made even thinner by the black skirt she wore, turning the damn thing into a weapon with a short slit up the side, hem encouraging a heady reaction as it stopped just above the knees. Blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, tied with yet another black bow of some kind, giving her domineering, office chic appearance an almost teeny-bopper flair. And all of it was intended to encourage him to let his guard down, he knew. Calculated and deliberate, just like everything about her.
"You left me quite a mess to deal with, you know," she said, her voice lilting with a pleasing British accent. "Dead police officer on the side of the highway. Stolen vehicle from a small town - a wedding, Rudy? Really? - And about 12 other corpses strewn about like some sort of trail of death, starting with your assistant in a hotel room where they have your name registered on the books." She was angry. He could tell, even though she made a good show of listing these things off as casually as if she'd been rattling off her playlist. It was never ever that simple with her. EVER. "And what's worse, you didn't answer any of my calls on your cell phone. Finally tracked it to the diner you stopped at and I MUST ask you - why is my ring tone the theme song for Cruella DeVil?"
Rudy smiled again, the expression not staying firmly on his face when he couldn't decide if it was safe to allow himself to make it. "Come on... It's not like I do it on purpose to make your life miserable," it truely wasn't. He hadn't dedicated that much thought to her after she'd double-crossed him. Well, except for planning revenge of course. "I seriously had enough trouble keeping alive with Stewart in my hands; the collateral damage was a result of the universe totally trying to rape the hell out of me. And the ringtone... it was a joke! Just a funny little thing..."
She nodded once, her delicate eyebrows arching in understanding, her lips curving coyly in false pleasure. "Ah, very witty, my love," she said sweetly, her eyelashes fluttering over porcelain cheeks as she looked down and dipped a finger into the collar of his shirt to peek under it. "And yes, I heard all about your trials and tribulations. The doctor informed me that the bullet went all the way through... He also said that you can leave any time, but I think he's just eager to be rid of you because you keep calling him Doctor Who and demanding to see the TARDIS."
"Heh," was Rudy's smug reply, although he was a little hurt that ole Doc didn't like him as much as Rudy liked him. He thought they'd had a connection while the dude had been busy poking the hell out of him, asking where it hurt and how much. People hating and growing tired of him; it wasn't a new experience. But the biggest part of this news was realizing...the doctor had basically washed his hands of him. Not that it would have made a difference with her rank, but it was just another thing added to the list of reasons Rudy was alone and completely defenseless right now.
Suddenly, Rudy's amusement faded as his attention was drawn back to her, her dainty fingers undoing his shirt and letting it fall to expose the gauze bandaging in the middle of his right shoulder. Red blotched the outer layer of the fabric and he shivered uncontrollably as she began to undo the tape pressed against his skin. Raising an eyebrow at her, she shared a look with him, her eyes gazing innocently into his. "Let me see it..."
Not that he really had a choice, the bandage torn away and tossed to the side, a small hole about the size of a dime piercing his chest in it's place. He swallowed and watched her face as her hand came up to trace lightly around the reddened area, her eyes fixated on it, unmoved by the fact that he was wounded. She'd done her fair share to him over the years; this was not new territory for them. Finally, her hand came to rest, poised over the hole like a spider, filled with threatening promise as her large brown eyes came back up to his face giving him that bowel-shifting look...
Oh...he loved this game...
He knew what that look meant and he knew what this whole scenario was leading up to - the closed door, the semi-sexy outfit, the disappointment barely heard in her voice, pressuring him with a guilt he didn't feel but was eager to put on just for her. Every crime had a punishment and there was no doubt about it now; she didn't need to say what she suspected or knew. He was in trouble. Period. They'd fill in the details of exactly why later.
"You met with Stephanie when you dropped her target off, didn't you?"
Or they could do it now. He stammered slightly, his eyes leaving her to dart at the floor, the wall and then the door. "Uh...yeah, briefly. She was very grateful." And she'd been responsible for about a third of the internal injuries he now carried. But that had been his fault....again. He tried to think for a moment, were there any women in his life, currently, who didn't try to hurt him? Well there had been the nurse...but she'd seemed eager to stab him with a needle when he'd told her she looked like a flabby version of Kirsten Dunst.
It was hard to tell exactly what she was feeling from watching her features alone, but he got a general idea when her finger was suddenly inserting itself into the hole on his chest. A harsh intake of breath filled him as the appendage poked into the still sensitive wound, but he didn't move away from her as she gave him a girlish grin. "I'm sure she was. If what I hear is true, she's probably one of the most obsessed people in the Agency, dedicating herself to her case to the point of madness..."
Rudy was really struggling now, his face growing a bit red as he pursed his lips in discomfort, feeling every small groove of her smooth fingernail as she wiggled it playfully inside the hole. Pain flooded his body setting off other reactions, when through the haze he looked at her face and saw the sadistic fire in her own eyes.
Sweet baby Jesus! He loved this game!
"I'm sure she also took the time to 'thank' you properly," a viciousness entering her tone as she shoved her finger further in, her second knuckle disappearing within the torn circle of fleshy meat. When she curved the appendage inside of him, a distressed yelp arched from his throat, followed by heavy hisses and labored breathing, his eyes watering while his hands shook at his sides.
When the finger slipped from him, he glanced down at her, panting and starting to sweat a little, displeasure clearly painting her features in new light. He knew she was looking for some sort of admission from him, some sort of guilty conscience reveal about him and Stephanie March. And although there wasn't anything to admit to, he knew that things would go a lot worse if he kept his mouth shut and denied her anything. Or rather...they'd be better for the little game they played.
So, understandably, she grew frustrated with his silence in regards to her questions, and was shoving him into a chair in the corner of the room, every line and curve of her body filled with violent purpose as she towered over him. Glancing at the doorway - no lock on the handle, the silver orb completely smooth and round - she untied the bow from her hair, honey blonde hair falling over her shoulders in straight waves, and giving him another grin, showing teeth that had the slightest chipmunk cuteness to them.
"You need to be quiet for mummy," she whispered seductively, fingers perching at his chin to open his jaws - which he did, perfectly willingly, watching her with rapt attention - and shoving the bunched black fabric inside his mouth. Satin, or something like it, sheer texture filling his mouth with the perfumed scents of whatever she'd washed her hair with. Then she was pulling the scarf away from her slender, graceful neck, the cloth coming a lot longer than it had at first appeared. Hands situated on the metal armrests of his new resting place, he did not struggle as she bound him with one end of the scarf, trailing the fabric's middle across his lap to bind the other hand as well.
It wasn't tight and he could get it loose if he wanted. But in the thousands of times they'd done this, he knew that would break the rules and his punishment would be the most severe out of everything else she could do: instantly ignored. He was forbidden from touching her and he was forbidden from touching himself. any infraction of such was an immediate end to anything they were doing, leaving him completely shunned and empty. And it was more than a challenge, causing pain in and of itself as she continue to tease him mercilessly.
God! He fucking loved this game!
After he was bound and breathing excitedly around his gag, she climbed onto his already crowded lap, skirt riding up on her thighs as she wedged her knees on either side of his hips. Immediately, her finger began to probe at the hole again as she watched him jerk and flail, gripping the arm rests as a strained groan ripped muffled from his throat. "You think you're such a clever little mouse, don't you?" she purred, achingly close to his face, causing him to tremble in addition to the hook of her finger inside him. "I heard all about how you taunted her - in front of an A-1, no less! - and got knocked off your feet in greeting."
Agony lanced through his shoulder and he was gasping through the now fully dampened cloth as she went on, sweat decorating his temples and his chest rising and falling rapidly. Even so, she kept his attention fully divided by the movement of her waist pressed flush against him. Blood dribbled thick and hot around her finger but she didn't seem to mind, her velvety voice moving on. "I also heard about the violent beat down that resulted as you taunted her about your report, keeping the precious details of her target to yourself until the absolute last moment." This, what she was describing, was what counted for "cheating" between them. Getting himself torn inside out by another woman. Especially when it was something he made happen on purpose.
A choking sound came from his throat and his body shuddered violently underneath her as another digit was shoved through the hole, squeezing the skin tight around them and practically tearing the flesh to make room. He whimpered at her, pleading with her with tear stained eyes and she regarded him with a cold blankness that all at once made him terrified while at the same time had him begging and hoping she wouldn't stop.
Hovering incredibly close to him, her fingers stopping their little internal dance within his shoulder, she cocked her head to the side slightly, eyes incredibly dark yet so very very bright, she whispered, "I'm certain she would never hurt you the way that I can..." and he let out a soft, appreciative groan in response.
The halls outside were filled with his echoed screams, while remaining clear of anything else.
Anyways, looking for a bit of critique. This was something I did for fun, but I'd just like to know if people like it and if not, then how I could improve it.
***
The thin clacking of high heels reverberated in the hall hollowly, cutting through the distant sound of a phone burbling and the vague wheeze of mechanical breathing that was the soundtrack to this dismal place. Slender, petite curves swayed as she passed several doorways, back straight as a Marine's and each step landing with a focused grace. Finally, reaching THE door, she came to a smooth stop and opened it without knocking, her authority more than making up for any assumed impropriety with the gesture. Eyes fell upon the lone occupant of the room, blinking blankly as he glanced up from his DS - fully grown man still just a boy at heart - and his bruised and broken face blossomed in a dorky grin at sight of her, instantly setting his game aside."Wow! What a surprise!" he definitely sounded surprised as he stood up from the bed, arms spread in a gesture of greeting. Should he have expected this? Probably. There hadn't been a direct line of communication between them since he'd called her about capturing Stewart. In hindsight, it probably would have been better to act as if nothing was wrong and given her a call at some point. Now his plan to disengage from her would be hindered slightly by her suspicions. No matter. Rudy could fix it. Afterall, she was crazy about him. Well...crazy, anyway.
Dark brown, doe-like eyes looked him up and down in the hospital issued clothes he'd been given - scrub pants, the fabric a mellow sea green topped by a too loose white shirt giving her a full view of his scrawny neck-line and the hint of a bandage on his chest just below the collar. And the rest of him seemed alright except for his face, swelling bruises having subsided leaving the ugly reddish and black coloring along with a bandaged and broken nose.
He walked forward a few steps giving her that ingratiating smile he knew got her fired up and said, "I know I should have called you to keep you updated, but it wasn't like I really had a moment to spare. I'm really glad to see you here now, though, Noel."
Her rosebud lips curved ever so slightly downward at the way he addressed her, no other reaction passing over her youthful features. The response was immediate within him, that grin disappearing as he registered what he'd done wrong. "Sorry. Ma'am," he corrected himself, swallowing thickly as she blinked in approval and stepped fully into the room. As she let go of the door and it clicked heavily back into place, he tried to stifle the worried glance he gave it, instead focusing on her as she sauntered towards him, hips swaying threateningly.
Disarming white buttoned blouse with neckline dipping low but not beyond a professional barrier, her neck was accented with a soft looking, black scarf, untied and wrapped around once, the ends falling over her shoulders on her back. And her smooth curves were made even thinner by the black skirt she wore, turning the damn thing into a weapon with a short slit up the side, hem encouraging a heady reaction as it stopped just above the knees. Blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, tied with yet another black bow of some kind, giving her domineering, office chic appearance an almost teeny-bopper flair. And all of it was intended to encourage him to let his guard down, he knew. Calculated and deliberate, just like everything about her.
"You left me quite a mess to deal with, you know," she said, her voice lilting with a pleasing British accent. "Dead police officer on the side of the highway. Stolen vehicle from a small town - a wedding, Rudy? Really? - And about 12 other corpses strewn about like some sort of trail of death, starting with your assistant in a hotel room where they have your name registered on the books." She was angry. He could tell, even though she made a good show of listing these things off as casually as if she'd been rattling off her playlist. It was never ever that simple with her. EVER. "And what's worse, you didn't answer any of my calls on your cell phone. Finally tracked it to the diner you stopped at and I MUST ask you - why is my ring tone the theme song for Cruella DeVil?"
Rudy smiled again, the expression not staying firmly on his face when he couldn't decide if it was safe to allow himself to make it. "Come on... It's not like I do it on purpose to make your life miserable," it truely wasn't. He hadn't dedicated that much thought to her after she'd double-crossed him. Well, except for planning revenge of course. "I seriously had enough trouble keeping alive with Stewart in my hands; the collateral damage was a result of the universe totally trying to rape the hell out of me. And the ringtone... it was a joke! Just a funny little thing..."
She nodded once, her delicate eyebrows arching in understanding, her lips curving coyly in false pleasure. "Ah, very witty, my love," she said sweetly, her eyelashes fluttering over porcelain cheeks as she looked down and dipped a finger into the collar of his shirt to peek under it. "And yes, I heard all about your trials and tribulations. The doctor informed me that the bullet went all the way through... He also said that you can leave any time, but I think he's just eager to be rid of you because you keep calling him Doctor Who and demanding to see the TARDIS."
"Heh," was Rudy's smug reply, although he was a little hurt that ole Doc didn't like him as much as Rudy liked him. He thought they'd had a connection while the dude had been busy poking the hell out of him, asking where it hurt and how much. People hating and growing tired of him; it wasn't a new experience. But the biggest part of this news was realizing...the doctor had basically washed his hands of him. Not that it would have made a difference with her rank, but it was just another thing added to the list of reasons Rudy was alone and completely defenseless right now.
Suddenly, Rudy's amusement faded as his attention was drawn back to her, her dainty fingers undoing his shirt and letting it fall to expose the gauze bandaging in the middle of his right shoulder. Red blotched the outer layer of the fabric and he shivered uncontrollably as she began to undo the tape pressed against his skin. Raising an eyebrow at her, she shared a look with him, her eyes gazing innocently into his. "Let me see it..."
Not that he really had a choice, the bandage torn away and tossed to the side, a small hole about the size of a dime piercing his chest in it's place. He swallowed and watched her face as her hand came up to trace lightly around the reddened area, her eyes fixated on it, unmoved by the fact that he was wounded. She'd done her fair share to him over the years; this was not new territory for them. Finally, her hand came to rest, poised over the hole like a spider, filled with threatening promise as her large brown eyes came back up to his face giving him that bowel-shifting look...
Oh...he loved this game...
He knew what that look meant and he knew what this whole scenario was leading up to - the closed door, the semi-sexy outfit, the disappointment barely heard in her voice, pressuring him with a guilt he didn't feel but was eager to put on just for her. Every crime had a punishment and there was no doubt about it now; she didn't need to say what she suspected or knew. He was in trouble. Period. They'd fill in the details of exactly why later.
"You met with Stephanie when you dropped her target off, didn't you?"
Or they could do it now. He stammered slightly, his eyes leaving her to dart at the floor, the wall and then the door. "Uh...yeah, briefly. She was very grateful." And she'd been responsible for about a third of the internal injuries he now carried. But that had been his fault....again. He tried to think for a moment, were there any women in his life, currently, who didn't try to hurt him? Well there had been the nurse...but she'd seemed eager to stab him with a needle when he'd told her she looked like a flabby version of Kirsten Dunst.
It was hard to tell exactly what she was feeling from watching her features alone, but he got a general idea when her finger was suddenly inserting itself into the hole on his chest. A harsh intake of breath filled him as the appendage poked into the still sensitive wound, but he didn't move away from her as she gave him a girlish grin. "I'm sure she was. If what I hear is true, she's probably one of the most obsessed people in the Agency, dedicating herself to her case to the point of madness..."
Rudy was really struggling now, his face growing a bit red as he pursed his lips in discomfort, feeling every small groove of her smooth fingernail as she wiggled it playfully inside the hole. Pain flooded his body setting off other reactions, when through the haze he looked at her face and saw the sadistic fire in her own eyes.
Sweet baby Jesus! He loved this game!
"I'm sure she also took the time to 'thank' you properly," a viciousness entering her tone as she shoved her finger further in, her second knuckle disappearing within the torn circle of fleshy meat. When she curved the appendage inside of him, a distressed yelp arched from his throat, followed by heavy hisses and labored breathing, his eyes watering while his hands shook at his sides.
When the finger slipped from him, he glanced down at her, panting and starting to sweat a little, displeasure clearly painting her features in new light. He knew she was looking for some sort of admission from him, some sort of guilty conscience reveal about him and Stephanie March. And although there wasn't anything to admit to, he knew that things would go a lot worse if he kept his mouth shut and denied her anything. Or rather...they'd be better for the little game they played.
So, understandably, she grew frustrated with his silence in regards to her questions, and was shoving him into a chair in the corner of the room, every line and curve of her body filled with violent purpose as she towered over him. Glancing at the doorway - no lock on the handle, the silver orb completely smooth and round - she untied the bow from her hair, honey blonde hair falling over her shoulders in straight waves, and giving him another grin, showing teeth that had the slightest chipmunk cuteness to them.
"You need to be quiet for mummy," she whispered seductively, fingers perching at his chin to open his jaws - which he did, perfectly willingly, watching her with rapt attention - and shoving the bunched black fabric inside his mouth. Satin, or something like it, sheer texture filling his mouth with the perfumed scents of whatever she'd washed her hair with. Then she was pulling the scarf away from her slender, graceful neck, the cloth coming a lot longer than it had at first appeared. Hands situated on the metal armrests of his new resting place, he did not struggle as she bound him with one end of the scarf, trailing the fabric's middle across his lap to bind the other hand as well.
It wasn't tight and he could get it loose if he wanted. But in the thousands of times they'd done this, he knew that would break the rules and his punishment would be the most severe out of everything else she could do: instantly ignored. He was forbidden from touching her and he was forbidden from touching himself. any infraction of such was an immediate end to anything they were doing, leaving him completely shunned and empty. And it was more than a challenge, causing pain in and of itself as she continue to tease him mercilessly.
God! He fucking loved this game!
After he was bound and breathing excitedly around his gag, she climbed onto his already crowded lap, skirt riding up on her thighs as she wedged her knees on either side of his hips. Immediately, her finger began to probe at the hole again as she watched him jerk and flail, gripping the arm rests as a strained groan ripped muffled from his throat. "You think you're such a clever little mouse, don't you?" she purred, achingly close to his face, causing him to tremble in addition to the hook of her finger inside him. "I heard all about how you taunted her - in front of an A-1, no less! - and got knocked off your feet in greeting."
Agony lanced through his shoulder and he was gasping through the now fully dampened cloth as she went on, sweat decorating his temples and his chest rising and falling rapidly. Even so, she kept his attention fully divided by the movement of her waist pressed flush against him. Blood dribbled thick and hot around her finger but she didn't seem to mind, her velvety voice moving on. "I also heard about the violent beat down that resulted as you taunted her about your report, keeping the precious details of her target to yourself until the absolute last moment." This, what she was describing, was what counted for "cheating" between them. Getting himself torn inside out by another woman. Especially when it was something he made happen on purpose.
A choking sound came from his throat and his body shuddered violently underneath her as another digit was shoved through the hole, squeezing the skin tight around them and practically tearing the flesh to make room. He whimpered at her, pleading with her with tear stained eyes and she regarded him with a cold blankness that all at once made him terrified while at the same time had him begging and hoping she wouldn't stop.
Hovering incredibly close to him, her fingers stopping their little internal dance within his shoulder, she cocked her head to the side slightly, eyes incredibly dark yet so very very bright, she whispered, "I'm certain she would never hurt you the way that I can..." and he let out a soft, appreciative groan in response.
The halls outside were filled with his echoed screams, while remaining clear of anything else.