Welcome to my Parlor [ Rania x Blackthorne ]

[Blackthorne]

Ridley Hamilton was on every "most eligable bachelor" in existence, and yet few people really knew much about him, or his incalculably wealthy family. Each city in which he did business liked to claim him as their own, and San Francisco was no exception. He owned a mansion on the largest private lot in the city limits; but it still was much smaller than the estates to which he was accustomed. Although he found it a bit restricting but the city was a must if his companies were to remain competitive in the world of high tech.

Of course, his less than legal endeavors also greatly benefited from a strong presence in the city. The Bay Area was a vital trans-shipment point for the Blackthorne Group's thriving human trafficking business, not to mention, a place where he could meet with representatives of both Chinese and Japanese organized crime, discreetly of course. One way to have discreet meetings was to ensure there were always people coming and going; and when Ridley was in town . It was important, because no matter what shipping line, no matter the destination, his group likely had a few containers on any cargo ship. The huge ships were like floating mountains , the vast majority of the cargo legitimate of course, so who was to notice a few crates of guns, drugs, or girls, especially if the right palms were well greased?

He had spent the early evening playing the gracious host until he saw a certain lovely woman at the soiree. Her clothing made it hard to tell if she was a guest or one of the help, in retrospect that should have been his first clue. He was unable to find her on the guest list , or as a guest of a guest. But she also had not undergone a background investigation that he required of catering companies brought in to supplement his staff. It seemed she was neither invited nor a legitimate worker. He blew up her image on the screen, , staring at her intensely. He very much wanted to meet this young woman. And he suspected he knew why she was here.

And so , he was waiting in his private study, having disabled the lock and alarm on that window near the ledge next to the balcony. He sat quetly in the shadow so certain he was right, he wasnt concerned about if she was armed. He had a number of things at his disposal to see to the subdual of the woman, were she so brazen as to attempt to attack him in his own private study. She would be subdued regardless, as he looked forward to having a new young woman whom no one would miss. It had been a terribly long time since the last time, and she had not been anywhere near as lovely as this young woman. He would enjoy this new woman a great deal.

 

[Rania Lark]

RE: Welcome to my Parlor

Delilah had managed the impossible. She snuck into the mansion of one of the wealthiest men in the bay area. Though she had robbed many a wealthy man in her time as one of the most prolific burglars in San Francisco, this one had by far been one of the most challenging. She had spent days casing the heavily guarded and secure compound, calculating the easiest and quickest way in and out. She had spied in the windows with binoculars to establish where the biggest visible safe was and had watched the society mail to pick her date; a large gala party was planned and everyone in San Francisco society was invited. It was bound to be a huge event, with so many people coming and going, Delilah figured that she could slip in, get what she wanted and get out without much notice.

So there she was; a stolen waitress uniform consisting of leather skinny trousers and a lace up leather vest (that she strategically left a little loose to expose that small amount of skin that would distract many men who would otherwise be occupied with keeping the patrons exactly where they wanted) was worn with knee height lace up black leather boots. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail at the back of her head to keep her tresses out of her face when she did the deed. Her makeup was simple, consisting only of kohl liner around her eyes and a slight pink lip gloss. Her black leather messenger bag was hidden behind the bar, just like most of the other waitresses’ purses. Carrying a large round tray, Delilah made her rounds through the crowded party, serving drinks and hors d’oeuvres while subtly watching the security around the room.

And her chance came a couple hours into the party when the security was becoming a little bored with such hoity toity affairs. Delilah moved quickly, moving behind the bar and feigning needing a smoke break as she grabbed her back. Slipping out of the party, she slipped into a tight leather jacket and, under the cover of shadows alongside the house, pulled the hood up over her head to conceal her identity from the cameras all over the grounds.

Pulling her bag up over her head, she traversed the grounds until she came to the room that had been calling to her for weeks. Slipping to the side of the doors, she pressed her back against the stone wall of the house as she pulled down on the handle…and the door opened! Delilah couldn’t believe her luck as she slipped a glass cutter back into her back and silently strode into the large study. Beelining it to the safe as quickly as she could, the thief didn’t notice the man lurking in the shadows.

Kneeling down in front of the safe, she pulled out a suction tube with a cup at the end and put it to her ear as she began to slowly turn the dial, listening for the telltale snap of a number being correct.

 

[Blackthorne]

RE: Welcome to my Parlor

Ridley smiled , holding his breath as he saw her enter. He should have sprung the trap then and there, but she was so graceful, to see someone like her in action, just to see her moving, was a rare privilege. There was an efficiency and sureness in her movements. Thankfully, his voyeurism didn't blow the whole scene for him immediately. The lovely young woman didn't see him, nor did she notice the fine metal mesh woven into the rug around where she was.

He pressed the button now, and as she reached up to touch the dial, an electrical force penetrated and covered her body. It was so strong that he knew likely she would be unable to move, but it would hurt bad. . The jolt completed after a good almost 30 seconds, and he pressed the button again. Another jolt. He had been wondering before - would she scream, would she even be able to ? Would she swallow her tongue and choke to death? Well, he would make sure that last bit didn't happen. Such a graceful young thing would undoubtedly bring a good price at auction. There was the smell of ozone and the sizzle and snap of electricity doing bad things that filled the study rather quickly.

By now she would have been able to move her hand from the safe, so he stood , and took 2 steps forward, swinging the cattle prod at her slowed figure. Of course she was lithe and quick, maybe she would dodge him, but he figured the first couple of shocks had taken a lot out of her. It was a fight of attrition now and she should probably be just about exhausted already. When playing with electricity for fun, the contact was much more brief, even then a few seconds at a time hurt quite a lot. He couldn't imagine the agony for the poor girl as he swung the cattle prod at her attempting to give her another shock, this one more localized but still powerful enough to paralyze her for a few moments.

Either way he would look at the woman , his nostrils flared. He spoke with a precise, snipped accent that was hard to place, because it was essentially unique. He was in a way both a man of the world and a man without a country. "Have you had quite enough yet? Put your hands over your head now, or I will discharge the entire battery into you. I could have shot you, but wounds like that take longer to heal. The electrical will just maybe kill some brain cells, or , you know, give you permanent nerve damage. Potayto, Potahto. "

"And now young lady, I have gone to great trouble to meet you, if you would be so good as to give me your name, your real one please; I mean I could shock you a few more times to really punctuate my point, but I am not sure at what point that drooling is about the most complicated thing you could handle. And I would hate to harm such a lovely work of art." His eyes twinkled with merriment even if his words were loaded with dark threats.

 

[Rania Lark]

RE: Welcome to my Parlor

The pain was instant and unexpected. Just as Delilah’s fingers touched metal dial on the safe, a warm sensation exploded from her core and made every muscle in her body immediately tense. But this was different than just muscle spasms. This feeling was an explosion of pain, as if her muscles were being torn away from her bones. Her body collapsed against the cold metal of the safe as her face twisted in the pain from the electrical current. The pain seemed to go on forever, when in reality it was mere seconds. Then just as soon as it appeared, it was gone. All her muscles seized in exhaustion and her body collapsed to the floor, her head still leaning against the safe as another jolt was fired through her again with the same ferocity as the first.

She didn’t scream, it was almost like she couldn’t. The pain was past that point. Her teeth were clenched and she grunted as her muscles twitched and the second jolt subsided. Her knuckles were white, her palms bloody from the pressure of her fingernails as her body twitched in resistance to the electricity as it grounded back into the floor. Her breath came in short spurts as she struggled to regain her bearings.

Her hands moved up in an attempt to pull herself up off the floor, her vision still blurry from the attack when she felt another jolt explode in her side. This one was definitely from someone. Someone was in the room with her! This one remained localized in her side though and the pain was excruciating. Delilah clenched her teeth and let out a sharp screech of pain as her body was forced back down onto the ground, her muscles seizing once again under the assault.

Then a voice. A distinctly male voice with an unplaceable accent. A man who began to demand answers from her. To threaten her with more shocks if she didn’t comply. Delilah took her time to respond to him, a subtle act of defiance as she slowly lifted her arms up against the safe, her fingers staining the black metal surface with her own blood.

And then there was silence. She contemplated lying to him, but he seemed intent on getting the information willingly or not and to avoid any more paralyzing pain, Delilah decided on the former option. Besides, she would need her strength to get out of such a sticky situation. So, the thief clenched her teeth and responded.

“Delilah,” she growled begrudgingly.

 

[Blackthorne]

"Deliliah, what a lovely name for such a lovely woman. A true bonnie lass indeed. Oh, don't bother screaming, with the noise dampers on, the people at the party won't hear you, only my guards can hear you. Delilah, I am delighted to meet you, please keep your hands still . Because I actually probably would love to shock you again, but I am trying to be a good host, and then there is the whole brain damage aspect. "

"So Delilah, perhaps you could explain just what the hell you are doing here, and what pray tell are you looking for? Perhaps you left a nice scarf here on your last visit and you were hoping to retrieve it, non?"

His accent was all over the map - Upperclass British with some of the rhythm of Singlish, and scots slang words, and then ending with the french spoken more like a New Orleans creole might put it.

"I hope that you aren't armed. I am perhaps being too trustworthy, I ought to shock you a couple more times and then strip search you. But if you would be so good to tell me about any weapons. Again don't move, trust me your reflexes arent what you remember them just yet. Unless you love the feeling of powerful electrical shocks, then by all means move."

"How would you like to come out of this without needing to involve the authorities, and perhaps a new employment opportunity?" He curled his lips in a broad easy smile. Of course he had no intention of calling the cops, what he planned to do to the intruder was far from legal. And while he might use her for her larcenous talents, it wouldn't be until after a long hard regimen of training. At some point she would regret breaking into his estate, in targeting as if he were some weakling. And if he were wildly succesful, she would not even remember the deed, or the fact that she had ever been anything other than a dedicated slave.

And if he were not successful? Well, there would be a lot of fun along the way, though from her standpoint the fun might look a lot like 'pain'.

 

[Rania Lark]

Delilah didn’t move as the man spoke in various accents; her mind racing through everyone she could do to escape from the situation. His voice dulled in her mind as her eyes darted back and forth, considering all her options. She could get up and make a run back for the window. If she could reach it, she could jump down into the gardens and the cover of foliage. But if she was caught, there was no guarantee he would keep her alive or he could call the cops. She could grab for the large dagger tucked down into her boot, turn and kill him before escaping. However, unlike the thief, this man was well known in the business community in San Francisco, and he would be missed should he go missing. She could wrestle the prod from him and shock him into temporary paralysis….yes that was it! If she could get the prod away from him, she could poke him with the electricity and escape without him crying out for at least a few moments. But she needed him close to her.

‘…tell me about any weapons.’

Delilah’s breath quickened only slightly at the opportunity he was giving her! However, the slight breath was hidden beneath her quick breaths anyways as her body struggled to regain it’s control from the original shocks. Turning her head slightly towards him, his form coming into her peripherals, she responded, her face remaining stoic and blank as her voice growled.

“In my right boot,” she grumbled, her acting completely on point as she reacted as any rat would when caught in a corner, hissing and growling in an attempt to show that she wasn’t helpless; but she was cunning and intelligent. She was more of a snake, slithering her way out of situations with a calculated threatening attack; an attack that would be forthcoming should this man decide that his arrogance could best her again.

This time, Delilah thought through her decisions, her plans. She was not excited over something shiny; this time it was her own life on the line, and, despite her choice of lifestyle, she was not keen on losing.

So she waited for him to approach, to crouch down over her legs to retrieve the dagger...

 

[Blackthorne]

Ridley's wan smile was inscrutable; he was a true monster at the poker table. He certainly made no sudden move to disarm her. "Well then let us make sure you don't make any sudden moves to your boots, Delilah. I abhor unnecessary violence. Of course, I suppose in this case, it would be necessary. Hmm . Well, still, better not to move if you don't want another zap. I mean beyond brain damage, you might get 80's hair, too. And nobody wants that, so close to Halloween"

With that the billionaire leaned just slightly closer to give a conspiratorial pseudo-whisper. "My guards are outside the door and the windows. And I promise with you that they will be much less gentle with you then I would be. They so rarely get a good workout with a live target , so you know, they might be overly exubrant and enthusiastic to prove their worth. I do offer them a bonus for apprehending intruders."

"So this can go a rather more civilized way, or I can hit you with the prod agaian and then see if you were telling me the truth about the weapon. If you were telling the truth, well then that buys you some goodwill. If you weren't? Well. Anyhow, we can avoid that unpleasantness entirely if you stand , slowly, and face the wall, and put your hands on the wall, fingers outspread. And then we go from there. I am sure you are likely well acquainted with being handcuffed" He grinned. He assumed she would be able to get out of a set of cuffs normally, which is why he also planned to use leather straps as well as the cuffs.

 

[Rania Lark]

This target was definitely more of a monster than any other one she had targeted in the past. Delilah was used to rich, spoiled brats from old money who had never had to work a day in their life, thought they could get anything they wanted and didn’t care if something didn’t go their way because they could just throw money at it to make it go away. So that was where she had thrived. A siren presence at large parties around the entire city, moving in either as wait staff or manipulating some old rich slob into thinking they could get in her pants to take her as a date.

He seemed more….insane. Like he had been planning this as much as she had. Like he knew she was coming. Like he could predict her actions. It would seem the thief had finally met her match.

But Delilah was not one to go down without a fight, and with his comments regarding 80s hair and Halloween ran down her spine like a cold stream of water.

“I thought that was the only time monsters showed their faces,” she responded with the same curt tone he had just a moment before, her words dripping in the same sarcasm, but hers were devoid of any humour.

Then he removed her plan once again, ordering her to her feet with her arms still on the wall. She remained still for a moment, her mind racing to figure out another plan as he spoke of handcuffing her. She could definitely escape from those; she had numerous times in the past. But she wouldn’t let him know that.

So she stood, unsteadily on her weak legs at first but she used her hands to steady herself as she kept facing the wall, her eyes still following his form in her peripherals, still planning to elbow him in the jaw if he got too close.

 

[Blackthorne]

Ridley stood in place and backed a half step away, raising the cattle prod warily between them. He stood around 6'2 as the Americans reckon height, and had long well toned muscles with a lot of leverage, like a basketball player or a strong safety American Football, though he was more of a Rugby player, personally. His steel blue eyes watched her frame, fllickering up and down. What he saw caused his mouth to turn up in a cruel grin. Were he not cleanshaven, he might have stroked his goatee or twirled his mustache ironically 'She is most likely amazingly flexible. She will look very good in a nice strappado pose' he thought to himself. In fact, he could imagine displaying her as one might display a sculpture or a painting.

As she turned to face the wall he was in no hurry. "Again, don't forget, Delilah , my guards are outside no matter which way you go. You didn't walk into some suburban mcmansion, after all. " He placed the prod against the back of her neck now "Or maybe I should just shock you to make sure you don't give me any problems" His voice was cold now, with a hard edge. He rethought his course of action. Normally he would jam a knee into her small of her back, this one though might trip him were he to stand on one leg , she would surely make him pay for such imbalance. He would need to be much more careful.

In a way it was like trying to close in and checkmate a wily opponent. Make the wrong move and the tables could be turned. He slid the prod down to right between her shoulder blades, here no matter how flexible she was, she could not reach back to grab the prod. "I want you to take your left hand, and put it behind your back, down around your waist, palms outstretched towards me. Then do the same with your right hand, arms straight out. Spread your legs wide and lean your head into the wall " In that position there would be no way to bring her arms up far enough to go for the prod , and he could put her directly into a stappado pose. Plus, it would be exquisitely uncomfortable

He waited for her to comply or to fight him. He figured the odds werre about even , she was at a very bad disadvatage from this position but it was about to go from terrible to impossible for her, and she likely knew it. He decided to offer a bit of a lifeline "I promise you I won't kill you, Delilah. If there is something else I could offer, perhas you could enlighten me? I mean see it from my viewpoint, what would you do if you caught someone breaking into your place to steal from you? This was really so very disrespectful of you. The other promise I will give you is it will hurt very bad if you screw with me now, girl" The way he said girl , so cold, dismissive, almost like an epithet. He sounded cool and even, but a keen observer of the signs could tell he had a bit of anger mixed with other, less wholesome emotions.

"But as I said, I am open to parlay if you have any reasonable suggestions that take into account the fact I could just put you down and take you that way." He knew the pressure of the prod between her shoulder blades along her spine would make her hesitate, but still, who knew what she would do. It was a marvelous situation, and he was hard thinking about what he planned to do to her.

 

[Rania Lark]

Delilah scoffed at his repeat of the earlier threat of the guards being outside. She knew how to outmanoeuvre any hired thug and for sure these ones were no different. She just needed to get away from the psychopath with the cattle prod. The thief’s mind still raced through her plan to get away, to escape and disappear back into the starless night outside, using her cunning and her speed to jump the fence and return to her safe house.

Then something cold yet warm was pressed up against the back of her neck; it was the prod and Delilah knew it! She resisted the urge to act impulsively and smack it away from her flesh but knew that if she did that, any leverage she would gain would be lost in the weak move. No, she needed to grab hold of it; to twist it out of his grasp; to turn the tables. So she remained still as it abandoned her neck to rest between her shoulder blades. Great! This was much better leverage.

Then the demands came, putting her hands behind her back in a specific way that Delilah knew would remove any advantage she had. The way he demanded her hands was a way to ensure that her arms couldn’t move up to grab the prod, to disarm her indefinitely.

Then the assurance that he wasn’t going to kill her; the childlike scolding of her trying to steal from him; Delilah scoffed at that. She was so rich, he probably wouldn’t bat an eye at being robbed, at what she would take. She worked on ease of movement and anything large wouldn’t do with her escape. Then he called her ‘girl’ and Delilah’s manipulative cunning turned to rage.

Her breath came in quick spurts as her adrenaline began pumping hard through her body. Her teeth gritted together as she bent her elbows in a movement to obey him, but she was using the wall as leverage. She pushed herself away from the wall violently, spinning her body around as her arm swung out, her fingers spread as she moved to grab hold of the handle of the prod, twisting her arm back in a strong attempt to wrestle it from his grasp, to remove his advantage and perhaps to exact her own electrical revenge on him.