Misc Ficlet - Will Wallstreet Forgive Martha??
You know, I could have SWORN I had posted this on here, but apparently I didn't. EEEK!!! This was written back when Matt Schulze had done the movie The Transporter and his character was named Wallstreet. And Martha Stewart was in the midst of her legal issues and this was a headline at the time. It was perfect. :D And inspired this. :D
TITLE: Lessons
CHAPTER: Ficlet - complete
AUTHOR: Den
RATING: NC-17 for depiction of death
PAIRING: N/A
SUMMARY: Fanfic challenge - Will Wallstreet Forgive Martha?
DISCLAIMER: Wallstreet belongs to the movie studio. I have borrowed him solely for my entertainment and that of my friends, and no gain, financial or otherwise, will be realized from this story.
NOTES: This was originally written based on a headline when Martha Stewart was having legal woes. *g*
FEEDBACK: Please! I am a feedback junkie.
***** ***** *****
He circled the large bed a final time, eying his prey. Each dainty wrist or ankle was tied neatly to a bedpost with a scarlet silk scarf. The deep color contrasted sharply with her pale flesh. The silk sheets beneath her matched the silk scarves.
All the better to see you with, my dear, he thought as he chuckled deep in his throat.
She turned her head at that. Of course, she couldn’t see him - a black scarf encircled her head.
He knelt down on the bed and leaned over her, sniffing her hair. She whimpered softly and tried to pull away from him. Head tipped down, he inhaled her scent deeply, from her shampoo to the gentle cologne she wore to her very essence. She whimpered again and he lightly dragged the backs of his fingers along the inward curve of her side as he gently licked her neck.
All the better to taste you with, he chuckled to himself.
He stood again and reached for an item on the bedside table. His long fingers curled around the handle and he turned it over in his hand, testing the weight. A grin grew on his face as the light bounced off the blade.
“You know, Martha,” he began in a menacing whisper. “You’ve been a bad, bad girl.”
He laughed as she tried to talk around the scarf.
“Whatever shall I do with you?” he asked as he lightly dragged the tip of the knife up the length of her leg. He pressed only hard enough to leave a faint pink trail from her ankle to her hip. The line was uneven and wriggled slightly because she squirmed as he moved the blade.
He stopped, backed away from the bed and admired the woman before him. Martha was an old girlfriend that thought the law could take better care of her than he had. Tonight was an exercise to demonstrate to her how very futile that thought could be. How useless the law was if he wanted something bad enough.
Sweat glistened on her alabaster skin as the pale light from the candles danced around the room. Her long blond hair formed a halo around her head on the pillows. Her arms and legs were relaxed in their restraints. Wouldn’t do to have her pulled too tightly. He pressed the knife tip to the inside of her arm and dragged it down towards her wrist. This time, he pressed harder and drew a thin line of blood.
He sat on the bed, leaned down and brought her arm as close to his mouth as he could. His lips pressed to her arm, gently suckling the blood away. As part of her was cleaned, he would move his lips and begin again.
All the better to eat you, my dear.
He walked around the bed, a predator circling his meal and a sadistic grin spread across his face.
He leaned next to her ear and paused a moment, taking in the scent of her shampoo and cologne mingled together.
“Very silly of you to think the police would be able to help you, you know,” he whispered. He twined his fingers through her hair and tugged her head backwards, exposing her neck. “Very silly indeed.”
He punctuated his last comment with a flick of his wrist, nicking her taut stomach and creating a small pool of blood. He gently blew ripples in the blood and watched her nipples tightened when the air reached them. He growled deep in his throat, leaned over and licked the blood from her belly. A small scarlet smear that matched the sheets was left in its stead.
Wallstreet pulled the scarf from her eyes and held the knife where she could see it. Her eyes widened when she saw it and she pulled at her restraints. He tilted the knife, catching the light on the blade. A small amount of blood tainted the tip. He brought the knife to his mouth and slowly licked the blade clean. Martha tugged at the restraints and whimpered again.
He held the knife to her carotid artery. “I have friends in the police, Martha. Good friends. Friends that told me what you were up to. I also have associates that may entertain the same foolhardiness that you did. Mustn’t let that happen, you see. You’ll provide the perfect lesson.”
With one final flick of his wrist, he slit open her carotid and smoothly stepped back. Except for a small spot of blood on his cheek, the initial spurt from the cut missed him. He admired his handiwork. Silk scarlet covered sheets and alabaster skin speckled with scarlet blood. Yes, it was a good lesson indeed.
Martha already forgotten, he dropped the knife on the floor and left in search of someone from housekeeping. After all, there were other lessons to be taught.
THE END!
TITLE: Lessons
CHAPTER: Ficlet - complete
AUTHOR: Den
RATING: NC-17 for depiction of death
PAIRING: N/A
SUMMARY: Fanfic challenge - Will Wallstreet Forgive Martha?
DISCLAIMER: Wallstreet belongs to the movie studio. I have borrowed him solely for my entertainment and that of my friends, and no gain, financial or otherwise, will be realized from this story.
NOTES: This was originally written based on a headline when Martha Stewart was having legal woes. *g*
FEEDBACK: Please! I am a feedback junkie.
***** ***** *****
He circled the large bed a final time, eying his prey. Each dainty wrist or ankle was tied neatly to a bedpost with a scarlet silk scarf. The deep color contrasted sharply with her pale flesh. The silk sheets beneath her matched the silk scarves.
All the better to see you with, my dear, he thought as he chuckled deep in his throat.
She turned her head at that. Of course, she couldn’t see him - a black scarf encircled her head.
He knelt down on the bed and leaned over her, sniffing her hair. She whimpered softly and tried to pull away from him. Head tipped down, he inhaled her scent deeply, from her shampoo to the gentle cologne she wore to her very essence. She whimpered again and he lightly dragged the backs of his fingers along the inward curve of her side as he gently licked her neck.
All the better to taste you with, he chuckled to himself.
He stood again and reached for an item on the bedside table. His long fingers curled around the handle and he turned it over in his hand, testing the weight. A grin grew on his face as the light bounced off the blade.
“You know, Martha,” he began in a menacing whisper. “You’ve been a bad, bad girl.”
He laughed as she tried to talk around the scarf.
“Whatever shall I do with you?” he asked as he lightly dragged the tip of the knife up the length of her leg. He pressed only hard enough to leave a faint pink trail from her ankle to her hip. The line was uneven and wriggled slightly because she squirmed as he moved the blade.
He stopped, backed away from the bed and admired the woman before him. Martha was an old girlfriend that thought the law could take better care of her than he had. Tonight was an exercise to demonstrate to her how very futile that thought could be. How useless the law was if he wanted something bad enough.
Sweat glistened on her alabaster skin as the pale light from the candles danced around the room. Her long blond hair formed a halo around her head on the pillows. Her arms and legs were relaxed in their restraints. Wouldn’t do to have her pulled too tightly. He pressed the knife tip to the inside of her arm and dragged it down towards her wrist. This time, he pressed harder and drew a thin line of blood.
He sat on the bed, leaned down and brought her arm as close to his mouth as he could. His lips pressed to her arm, gently suckling the blood away. As part of her was cleaned, he would move his lips and begin again.
All the better to eat you, my dear.
He walked around the bed, a predator circling his meal and a sadistic grin spread across his face.
He leaned next to her ear and paused a moment, taking in the scent of her shampoo and cologne mingled together.
“Very silly of you to think the police would be able to help you, you know,” he whispered. He twined his fingers through her hair and tugged her head backwards, exposing her neck. “Very silly indeed.”
He punctuated his last comment with a flick of his wrist, nicking her taut stomach and creating a small pool of blood. He gently blew ripples in the blood and watched her nipples tightened when the air reached them. He growled deep in his throat, leaned over and licked the blood from her belly. A small scarlet smear that matched the sheets was left in its stead.
Wallstreet pulled the scarf from her eyes and held the knife where she could see it. Her eyes widened when she saw it and she pulled at her restraints. He tilted the knife, catching the light on the blade. A small amount of blood tainted the tip. He brought the knife to his mouth and slowly licked the blade clean. Martha tugged at the restraints and whimpered again.
He held the knife to her carotid artery. “I have friends in the police, Martha. Good friends. Friends that told me what you were up to. I also have associates that may entertain the same foolhardiness that you did. Mustn’t let that happen, you see. You’ll provide the perfect lesson.”
With one final flick of his wrist, he slit open her carotid and smoothly stepped back. Except for a small spot of blood on his cheek, the initial spurt from the cut missed him. He admired his handiwork. Silk scarlet covered sheets and alabaster skin speckled with scarlet blood. Yes, it was a good lesson indeed.
Martha already forgotten, he dropped the knife on the floor and left in search of someone from housekeeping. After all, there were other lessons to be taught.
THE END!