|
Post by Ninmast on Oct 12, 2012 8:08:59 GMT -5
Or, at least, Kasumi was waiting there, dressed in a proper chauffeur uniform, which, given her body and demeanor, still managed to seem on her more like a cross between a stripper cosplay and a dominatrix. She was sitting on the porch, with one heeled boot propped on a lower step so her knee was raised, one arm draped over it, and the other allowed to hang off to one side of the stairs. Her strawberry blonde hair, about mid-back in length, fell freely behind her from under her cap and, like her sisters, she wore the top few buttons undone by necessity. All in all, while the resulting picture wasn't technically inappropriate, its focal subject seemed to make it lewd by presence alone, though as usual, her demeanor gave the impression that any attempt to suggest that may be met with threats or outright bodily harm. Perhaps Ian was seeing a pattern of stereotypes among the four Sisters by this point. While all equally, stunningly beautiful, if Haruka was the childlike Genki, Enji the Girl Next Door and Ayako the Sexy Nerd, then Kasumi was most certainly the representative of the darker realm of sadism and masochism.
When she heard Ian approach, she turned her head in his direction, her piercing ice-blue eyes likely freezing him in his tracks. She let the moment hang for a moment, perhaps seeing if he would overcome his fear of her, then simply pushed herself up into a standing position, dusting her rump and thighs off. "You're here," she observed. Though the statement wasn't derogatory and her tone was fairly neutral, her natural demeanor seemed to scold him as if he took too long to get there, as if he had made her wait. She reached up to adjust her hat before explaining, "The queen has asked that I be your driver for the day."
|
|
Alex-065
Full Member
Contents Under Pressure
Posts: 408
|
Post by Alex-065 on Oct 19, 2012 22:39:24 GMT -5
Ian didn't flinch or blush. The boy actually made eye contact with Kasumi as he listened attentively, seeming somewhat surprised but accepting of the fact that the eldest and deadliest of the sisters would be his chauffeur... And at her mercy, for all he knew.
Even if she hadn't been a succubus, Kasumi still could have read his feelings easily. She recognized a fleeting, guilty glance at her cleavage and the meager anxiety knit into the boy's brow. Some of it was caused by Kasumi's intimidating countenance, of course, but greater worry was rooted around thoughts of where he was meeting Sonra, and why.
He was still young and painfully inexperienced, regardless of what he may have boasted. And yet his nerves seemed somewhat... steadier than when he had first met her. She sensed no fear outright, but still a wary respect: The kind of feeling one might come to know at the sight of a loaded gun.
Not much of an improvement, but if Ayako's sharp tongue was tempering him, maybe little Ian wasn't beyond hope.
He smiled.
"I'm ready to go when you are," he told her, his voice laced with restrained but genuine enthusiasm. "Unless I need anything for where we're going?"
|
|
|
Post by Ninmast on Oct 19, 2012 22:54:51 GMT -5
"Do you?" she asked. As she turned to look at him again, that curtain of hair moved in a graceful, beautiful echo of the motion, but her glance still seemed like a piercing glare, and her tone and posture, despite being, again, "neutral," as far as Kasumi was concerned, seemed to emanate the accusation of, Don't you DARE keep me waiting any longer, Human, or I'll rip out your intestines and hang you with them!
|
|
Alex-065
Full Member
Contents Under Pressure
Posts: 408
|
Post by Alex-065 on Oct 19, 2012 23:05:02 GMT -5
"A towel, maybe?"
Indeed, Ian was still soaked from his romp with the nymphs, which Ian didn't want to explain. Kasumi hadn't asked why. Either she already knew and wouldn't comment on the boy's near drowning or didn't care enough to ask why he'd returned dripping wet. Neither would have surprised him.
|
|
|
Post by Ninmast on Oct 19, 2012 23:35:49 GMT -5
Kasumi's gaze drifted down, and there was an air of disgust of his present state and negative judgment on his form. The visual equivalent, perhaps, of verbal castration. But she waved her hand and a hot air suddenly seemed to briefly inundate about the boy. When it faded a moment later, he and his clothes were perfectly dry. "You're right," she said, "I don't think that would have been good for the car." An understandable, rational statement. Except her demeanor again made it seem like she thought more of the car than him.
Not even two minutes with the eldest Sister, and poor Ian must have already felt like his balls were crying from the busting they were receiving.
|
|
Alex-065
Full Member
Contents Under Pressure
Posts: 408
|
Post by Alex-065 on Oct 20, 2012 0:08:54 GMT -5
Ian was taken aback and patted himself down. Dry and clean as a whistle. He nodded with a face that seemed to say 'Not bad!' He hand't thought the succubus sisters had powers of the like outside of dreams. It was a neat trick at least, although he began to wonder just how often Kasumi had to magically air dry boys on a daily basis.
More likely, the hot gust was an extremely diluted fire spell, fire being a useful and arousing tool in the hands of sadists...
Ian was stricken by the mental image of Kasumi as she might appear in a nightmare: Luxuriously strolling though a raging inferno her victim could not wake to escape from. Her eyes glowed hellishly red, smiling and unharmed as her clothes disintegrated off her voluptuous figure, coming closer and closer with the encroaching flames...
Ian stopped himself from imagining more. Why had he thought of it at all?
A man much wiser then himself had once said, "Given a knife, and a hand in which to hold it, the mind would eat it's self.
Ian smiled, though his brief torment was amusing, and hadn't gone noticed by Kasumi. He smiled as if apologizing for it. He hoped she hadn't seen what his mind's eye had seen, but knew better.
He nodded. "Alright, then. You know, a nice car ride does sound pretty good. Don't want to keep the Princess waiting, right?"
|
|
|
Post by Ninmast on Oct 20, 2012 0:37:45 GMT -5
"Indeed." She sounded like she thought he was an idiot, not worth the effort. He could almost picture the disgust dripping from her lips. She turned on her heel and led him through a path that led through a few separations in the house, arches where the second floor went over but the first did not, allowing faster access to the front or rear of the massive estate without walking all the way around, which might have necessitated a golf cart.
In front, instead of the van, was a sleek, black car. Kasumi went to the back right door and opened it for him. When he was in, she shut it and went around to the driver's seat. She sat down, buckled in, got the car running, then looked back at him via the mirror. Her vivid, ice-blue eyes weren't dampened by the reflection. "Buckle up."
|
|
Alex-065
Full Member
Contents Under Pressure
Posts: 408
|
Post by Alex-065 on Oct 26, 2012 1:10:53 GMT -5
Ian did so with a wry smile and a look that was a tie-dye of fear and amusement. There was a demon at the wheel.
Cars had only existed for the past hundred years or so, and Ian smartly guessed that his succubus chauffeur had, in her time, far more practice with horses. He held onto this thought out of sudden caution, pondered and lingered over it until it was like flavorless gum in the mouth of his brain. Because he didn’t dare think of the joke that he was threatened with being reminded of: Something about Asian female drivers…
|
|
|
Post by Ninmast on Oct 26, 2012 11:32:15 GMT -5
There was an air about Kasumi that suggested she might run the car into a tree at 120 kilometers per hour just to spite him for that, but that seemed to be fairly standard fare at this point. When she started off, the ride was smooth as she pulled out of the parking lot and headed out of the estate.
Not that Ian could see when they left it, however, as the windows were frosted and while light could come in, it brought no indication of what was outside. He only could know that after a while, he heard other vehicles around them, indicating they were on the highway. It was about half an hour after that, an entire ride of perhaps 45 minutes, that Kasumi pulled in somewhere and came to a stop. She got out first and came around to his door to open it. It was perhaps only then that the boy realized that, had he wanted to get it, himself, and save her the work, he couldn't have. The back doors had no interior releases.
They were, indeed, back in the city, he'd realize as he climbed out. He'd recognize the shopping district that the students in his school tended to favor. It was really more of a continuous mall with indoor parking, really. The lot was in the middle of the buildings and could only be called outdoor because the section was open-roofed, doubling as an outside rest area around the fringe, with grass, walkways and tables closer to the doors. Nearby was the food court, where countless restaurants vied in varying degrees of health from good ol' McDonalds burgers and fries to authentic native cuisine for the business of the hungry people who filed through, browsing the collection. Also nearby was a skating rink and arcade, as well as countless stores and boutiques. A teenage paradise.
The sound of Kasumi shutting the door behind him might have snapped his attention back to her. "Sonra," she said, avoiding referring to her as Princess in an area so public, "said she would meet you in the food court. I have other errands to run, but she'll call me when the two of you are ready for a ride back, or just her if you decide to go on home." And without another word, she headed back around, pulled out and left Ian standing there on his own.
|
|
Alex-065
Full Member
Contents Under Pressure
Posts: 408
|
Post by Alex-065 on Nov 2, 2012 0:09:28 GMT -5
Back in the real world, Ian thought. The sights and smells of the bustling shopping mall were almost a shock for him, having just left the peaceful and other-worldly palace his date called home.
Date?
Before Ian could seize a chance to second guess himself more thoroughly, the sudden shutting of a car door brought his attention back to his busty chauffer. He nodded his understanding to her instructions, thanked her, and noticed how passersby were looking at her, and at him; like a sex symbol and a contemptibly rich foreigner, respectively. Ian hoped no one from his school was watching. It also occurred to him that Kasumi must have been used to being… admired.
Or was it like blood in the water to a shark?
Ian told himself the elder succubus sister was bound to have more a very discriminating taste for prey, which precluded mall rats from her diet. There was no way of knowing how right or wrong Ian was, of course, and he knew it. He would only know if he were a succubus himself. Before he could put that idle fancy out of his mind though, he remembered who’s company he kept… And that learning what it was really like to walk a mile in their shoes was certainly not outside the realm of possibility.
As if being turned into a mere human girl hadn’t been awkward enough.
The thought finally left Ian, though likely to return, as Kasumi drove away. She’d seemed to be glad to be rid of him. Alone on the curb with his hair slightly frayed by Kasumi's blowdrying spell, Ian didn’t think he’d ever be on her good side. He suposed it’d be easier to please Ayako, who only seemed to tolerate him most of the time. Granny Yatsuha hadn’t been impressed. The Queen was impossible to read. Ian thought Enji was the only one of the four sisters who seemed to have been genuinely friendly and welcoming to their human house guest. And Haruka…
Ian remembered her pressing his face into her cleavage and thought of nothing further.
Except the princess. What did she see in him? She was kind, intelligent, patient, and not a succubus, she she couldn’t have been leading him on as her next meal. Indeed, it was only her good graces that kept Haruka’s hands off him, and he thought it half again as likely the princess kept Kasumi from killing him out of spite. Or worse, Ian reminded hismef as he rembered her penchant for sadism.
Sonra might have been a demon of sorts, but for some inexplicable reason she seemed to have his best interests in mind. Why?
He leaned into the crowed, heading towards the food court, and perhaps a few answers.
|
|
|
Post by Ninmast on Nov 2, 2012 20:46:48 GMT -5
Someone like Sonra would have stood out in a place even as crowded as the food court, but there was no sign of her. This wasn't really a cause for worry, however, as she may just not have arrived yet. However, someone else did come to his attention. Sitting alone toward the middle of the room, seemingly dissuading interaction with his presence alone, was the young man in the unmarked school uniform that had saved Ian from the nymphs. He was nursing a cup of something indistinguishable from that distance, but didn't seem to be doing anything.
|
|
Alex-065
Full Member
Contents Under Pressure
Posts: 408
|
Post by Alex-065 on Nov 4, 2012 20:20:06 GMT -5
"Damn," Ian said as he stepped in front of his rescuer's table. He laughed a little as he took in the sight of him. "I was almost starting to doubt you'd been real but here you are!" Ian sat at the table. A bold move. "How are you doing, man? I never got to thank you, did I?" With a winning smile, he reached out for a handshake.
|
|
|
Post by Ninmast on Nov 4, 2012 21:15:43 GMT -5
The young man looked from behind his cup, apparently tomato parmesan bisque, at Ian as the American suddenly intruded so rudely on whatever thoughts he was keeping. His gaze went to the hand Ian stuck out, then back to him, no motion made to accept the shake. "I wasn't waiting for one," he answered blandly.
It was perhaps now, in calmer settings, that Ian would recognize that the young man, though looking sufficiently native, spoke Japanese with a foreign accent. It was less noticeable than Ian's, but to someone who had spent the previous day listening to the impeccable noble accents of Sonra's family, it was certainly there.
|
|
Alex-065
Full Member
Contents Under Pressure
Posts: 408
|
Post by Alex-065 on Nov 24, 2012 18:08:50 GMT -5
After a brief awkward moment, the human sat, his smile diminished but not entirely gone. He was still too pleased at finding his guardian angle, same as he would be if he met the Easter Bunny, even if the Easter Bunny turned out to be a total douche bag, and either way, Ian didn't think the lad sitting across from him was anything remotely like the beloved Peter Cottontail. He just had different priorities, and Ian found it was hard to find fault in anyone who'd saved his life.
The lonely hand his disinterested rescuer had left hanging in the breeze was used to anxiously scratch the back of Ian's head as he sought words. Even a brain-dead monkey would know this guys wasn't interested in anything Ian might think to say, but he did anyway. The boy had backbone when dealing with his own gender.
"What's you name?" he asked, regarding his table partner with an earnestly stern look of curiosity, if not outright suspicion. It was an expression he'd seen many times on the clean-cut faces of the attorneys his father worked with, and had learned to emulate it without knowing. "I'm Ian. American," he said.
"You're not exactly from around here either." It wasn't a question. Ian grinned and glanced about, conscious of the fact that they were in public. But even if they were overheard, would anyone believe it?
He turned back with a raised eyebrow. "You know Sonra. So you're one of them?"
|
|
|
Post by Ninmast on Nov 24, 2012 22:29:05 GMT -5
The young man gave a flat, silent glare across the top of his drink at Ian. "You ask a lot of questions," he stated, clearly annoyed. He took a drink from his soup, and as the silence drew on, Ian probably began to wonder if he would get an answer to any of them at all, but finally, the young man set the cup down and answered.
"My name is Zach Corban. I grew up in Europe and only in the past year or so returned to Japan. I don't know Sonra. I know of her. I've never met her. I'm forbidden. And no, I'm not one of them." His answers were irritated and slightly biting. It may have been a sore subject he deemed something a stranger shouldn't be sticking his nose in.
|
|