CN: R2383006
AAN: WT199g#j

E here. We have a mission. The first installment has been wired to your account.

Mission Spec.:
-You are to remove one Sebastian Juarez (file uploaded), who is currently in US Federal Custody. Up to date information will be provided from a pre-arranged staging point.
-You will be provided with up to 4 other operatives and E as needed. You will meet them at room 416 at the Groves Palm Resort, Miami Florida, USA. Meeting time at 10am EST three days from reciept of this message.
-From your arrival, you will have 48 hours to remove the target.
-Limited collateral damage is needed, but not required. Target takes top priority.

The remainder of your fee will be sent to your account upon verification of Mr. Juarez's death. In your case, his not being able to testify.

Sender-
CN: E4520937
AAN: END06h!Y


Emerald hit send. She sat back in her seat and smiled. This was going to be fun. Dangerous, oh so dangerous, but wasn't that the best kind of fun? She took a sip of wine. It was good to be working once again. She had been working her cover job a lot lately and that was too terribly boring.

Emmy stood up and walked out on the balcony. The sea breeze came in and billowed the gossamer curtains. He white lingerie looked glowed in the moonlight. She liked the feel of lace upon her body ... and not much else.

She looked back at her computer. She wanted Dustie to respond right now, but she knew that was too much to ask. She would have to wait.

CN: R2383006
Pasword: ********

-Access Granted




...Reply to Message...

To: CN E4520937

...Authorization Number Requested...

END06h!Y

E,

Received message and all information. Will meet you at requested location at designated time. ...end message...

Mikita shut down the Opnet terminal, and headed outside. The weather was hot and muggy this time of year. Being on an island, did seem to moderate the climate. So it was not as hot as his native Uganda. The evenings brought out the lemurs and their child-like cries.

For Mikita, it was time to reflect and to plot. It was time for him to earn his keep. With luck, everything would go smoothly.

Miami Fl.
Contract Day

Carlos Menedez sat on the bed, working at his laptop typing away furiously. On the widescreen TV on the wall, various files were opening up and gifting the assembled team with the information they needed - the building schematics.

Carlos raised his arms up in a sign of victory.
"I am God!" he blurted out.

Emmie sneered down at him. She knew real Gods. Still, the Cartel's hacker had done a creditable job. They had both the rooms the Feds were using and now the lay out of each of the rooms they would be hitting. Added to that, Emmie had the name of the chief of the US Marshall's squad camped out to protect this ... "traitor" to her family.

It was almost time for Dustbin to arrive. She had already warned the rest of the team that if they so much as blanched at their 'specialist's appearance, they would be lucky if Emmie was the one who killed them. She doubted it would come to that. Save for Carlos, these men were hardened killer and, as matter of course, she had brought a meal for Dustie - just to be polite.
The meal was an informer for the Columbian military back home. Here, in Miami, all he was was a courtesy for a friend.

Domingez was the teams driver and muscle. His real duty was to clean up the teams presence here once the hit was going down. He was tall, muscular, but not too good looking. Bright enough to do his job right.

Phillipe was a back-up sniper. He could position himself close by and be evacuated once the mission was complete. He might not even have to shoot, but his presence would come in handy for a diversion. He was the oldest member of the team with military cut hair and a short, wiry build. He was also Google-searching the area around the hotel, finding the best vantage points for the appropriate rooms.

Juan's job was to corral Carlos. Carlos was a definite asset, coached for several years for his obvious (baseline) talents with the Opnet. Juan kept an eye on the younger man. He was a cold, quiet man, probably not happy with his current assignment, but he understood its necessity. If the mission required it, he would shut off the building's back up systems when Carlos dropped the automated ones. Juan was a very non-descript man, though well-built.

Together the baseline team was very professional. They had a certain cocky air about them. They felt that they might not even have needed the novas if they had their own way. They were wrong.

It was strange not being locked up in a cage like an animal. He could wake up any time he wanted, go to bed if he wished, and eat what and where he pleased. Well, not exactly; food was a complicated matter. He had the regular dietary requirement like everyone else, but his body needed an additional substance: Dust.

It was not really dust. It was more like ash. A very fine ash that clinged to things. But it was not naturally occurring, in that you could go down to your store and buy it, or dig it out of your fireplace. It had to be manufacured from animal flesh. The manufacuring process was simple, and his own body gave him the means of harvesting it. All he did was think about turning someone to dust while looking at them, followed by a familiar surge through his head, and that person was a pile of ash. So far it had been an effective tool and had never failed to do it's intended job.

This brought him to the present. His feeding necessity was now something he was paid for. Today was his first official job, and his associate 'E' would be waiting for him with several others. 'E' was a strange girl: she was beautiful and desireable. She also delighted in her work...the same work as him...both were hired killers. Mikita had to admit, that 'E' was more ruthless and took delight in her work. It made her even more attractive in his eyes. Both of them had a certain coldness to their souls.

He finished bathing and put on his eufiber. Instead of the usual red headscarf, jeans, tennis shoes and shirt, he went with all black. It seemed appropriate, being that today he would kill for money and not survival. He had no second thoughts about it. It was an added bonus. Getting paid to do what he would have to do anyways had a certan appeal.

He pictured himself in the city of Miami. To aid in his location of a place, he had a large wall map to tell him where on the planet a place was located. It helped him get to places he had nver been to. Places that he frequented, or planned to go to frequently were marked with pins. Although, all it took was remembering what the place looked like, to get there again. It was to remnd him that he had been across the globe.

A slight tingle brought the same map into his mind, as he focused on the coordinates given. There was a brief sensation of weightlessness before the actual jump. The jump itself made no noise or light. The surroundings in front of his eyes blurred, then changed in an instant to the new surroundings. On rare occasions, he found himself in a completely alien place. His jumpings failed sometimes, and when they did, they did in a spectacular fashion. One time he became intimate with a tree. He spent a month at home, healing from his wounds.

This time, there seemed to be no problem. He was in a hotel room, it what looked to be a large modern city. A packet of hotel issued items on the desk told him he was in the right place. But what room? He quickly opened the door to the hallway outside and checked the room number. Room 415. He was across the hall from his intended destination. Close for a blind jump.

There were no people in the hallway. Still he did not want to risk being seen. A man with dusties unusual appearance could not appear incognito. So he wished to jumpt there. In a flash, he was there. He knew it because 'E' was there. She also had a captive with her. Brunch? he wondered. Dustbin figured he had better ask first.

"Is that mine?" Dustie asked from behind his scarf, as his stubbie fingers pointed towards the captive man.

(OOC: 5 succ. on TP #1, 8 succ. on TP #2)

Instead of saying anything initially, Emmie grabs the captive up by his upper arms. She man-handles him over to the glass top table and hip-tosses him onto it like some beast to be feasted upon. She has a totally wicked grin upon her face.

"By all means," she tells her comrade in crime. As she passes around him she adds in a whisper,
"Pity I don't get to experience the power as you do."


"We've got an order for room service," shouts Carlos. The curly haired latino seems oblivious to the captives imminent fate.
"They logged in a brunch order for both rooms. Looks like four orders for Suite #1 and seven for Suite #2. We've got a liquor order for Suite #2! That's our guy!"

The other men are eyeing Dustbin cautiously. They make no effort to come over and greet him and don't make eye contact. It is clear that Dustbin puts them on edge yet they are dangerous men themselves, with pistols clearly in evidence. It still can not be lost on the two novas that their baseline associates are rapidly becoming an anachronism.

She was ruthless, and it seemed to Dustie that she liked watching him work. She hinted to him that she was envious of his power. For now, she would have to be content on watching, and sharing his power vicariously.

The man was sprawled out on the glass table, struggling feebily. His dark eyes shone with fear, as they seemed to beg for mercy. Dustbin would be merciful to the man and grant him a quick annihiliation. After his remains were eaten, his soul would be part of Mikita. That soul would provide the tall African with nourishment over the next several days.

The man's face twisted in confusion and his eyes widened as Dustbin struck. There was a brief flash, followed by the smell of ozone, and all that remained was a small pile of ash.

Dustbin began to remove the headscarf and paused. He turned to 'E' and, in his heavy African accent, spoke. "I am becoming... different." It was the only word he could think for what had changed. He said it as a warning for her and the others in the room.

His visage had become truly nightmarish. The same deformities and missing pieces were there, but it now gave the onlooker a sense of impending dread. The revulsion was so overpowering sometimes, that when Mikita focused on being terrifying, people fled screaming.

With deft and nimble stubby hands he scooped up the ashes and poured them into his mouth. The residual energies in them, acted like static electricity, as it stuck to his fingers. His tongue dextrously cleaned it from his stubbly fingers. What he did not consume, faded away into nothing after a few minutes. That was why eating it on the spont was paramount. If he waited too long, the ashes vanished.

Putting the scarf back on his head, he gave what might have been interpreted as a smile. "Thank you for meal. When we start?"

((OOC: 9 levels Agg. damage, Mega-Ugly 1))

Domingez turned and struggled to stop himself from retching. Juan stumbled back so suddenly, so quickly, that he almost fell over the chair he had been leaning on. Phillipe held his ground admirably, but a sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. A sniper's confidence helped him hold his ground while Dustie was revealed in all his - its? - horrific glory.

Carlos, oblivious to the Real World while he slashed away at Opnet obstacles, missed the spectacle and thus kept his lunch, and a his sanity. When he said "cool" he was talking about how easily he was slicing through the Hotel's security software, not commenting on Dustie's preferred means of feeding.

For Emerald, it was spectacular every time she saw it. It was fear clutching her heart and tightening its grip until her pulse pounded in her head and her extremities tingled. It was ... orgasmic.

She couldn't stop herself. She reached out and rubbed Dustie's shoulder as the horribly disfigured mutant ate. Proximity was the ultimate expression for being alive for her. That was what Dustbin did - he made you come so close to death, all you could feel was life.

She rubbed his shoulder and mouthed a 'thank you.'

Carlos looked up, noticed with a curious expression that the captive was gone and wrote it off as none of his business.
"The meals will be there in about five minutes. It figures they won't be in the bathrooms at that time, so you can 'port in there ... and there."

Phillipe cleared his throat before speaking up.
"I have a good position for shooting at Room #1. They took precautions for #2, so I'm not going to be much help there, but I can keep the cavalry pinned down."
As he spoke, Phillipe pulled out a long, black case out. He put on some orange-tinted shades and a ball cap.

Juan recovered a bit, but still looked green under his dusky skin.
"Alright Carlos, time to clean up and go. We should be on the boat in half an hour. Let's go."
It was obvious he wanted to put this room far behind him.

Domingez headed for the bathroom. He quickly returned with a briefcase which he opened. Inside was a host of cleaning supplies and plastic gloves. With the occassional nervous glance toward the two novas, the muscular hispanic began to wipe the surfaces down with an ammonia spray.

Emmie watched her team work and noticed how they feared Dustbin. Right that they should too. If only they feared her that way. One day they would.

Once Carlos had been packed up and they two of them were on the way to the lobby, Emmie turned to Dustie.
"I will be right back."
She went over, put an hand on Phillipe's arm and and concentrated. A moment later, they vanished into the ether. Ten seconds passed and only she returned.

"He said to give him 60 seconds. I put him right on target, but he needs to set up his firing stance. Once I'm sure you are evacuated, I will go back for him."
She grinned and added,
"Of course, if I'm not back for him three minutes after we start, he will make his own way home without us."
That assumed that she was dead, no doubt.

Mikita was no longer shocked by others' reactions to his appearance. In many ways he had become to revel in their revulsion. It would make an effecive tool if applied properly. Beauty and ugliness were two sides of the same coin. Both got you what you wanted.

He had always worked solo. Now he was expected to act at a certain moment. The questions for him were who, when and where. As he watched her vanish with the other man, he felt a pang of envy. What he could do with such an ability. In his mind, he imagined grabbing people and taking them to a secure place, where he could consume them in peace. For now, he would have to deal, and feed, with others present.

"What does man look like?" Mikita said to Emmy. "Where you attack? I attack Suite 2?" Dustie didn't want to seem like he didn't know what was going on, but he just wanted to be careful that everyone knew what they were supposed to do.

After getting the information, he tries to smile at 'E'. "Ready?"

"Ready. It's a simple in and out," Emmie said as she took a deep, pre-battle breath.
"If you need me, just open a door," she grins. As she finishes, her eufiber rises up from her collar becoming a full face mask. Emerald gets into a crouch and pulls out two very large pistols, thumbing the safeties off.
"Playtime" she whispers to herself and then she's gone.

(Distance is less than two kilometers)
(Teleport 3 successes)

Dustbin counted, so that 'E' could begin her diversion.

1..2..3..4..5

Dustie had the familiar weightless sensation, as everthing blurred around him, and his body jumped from the hotel room, to the target's bedroom.

He found himself standing in the bathroom adjoining the bedroom. As he walked out to get his target, as frightened looking man bumped into Dustie. The man was fleeing to the bathroom. The gunshots and shouting, coming from the other side of the bedroom door, must have driven him here for safety.

Too easy Dustie said to himself, as the familiar surge of energy burst forth towards the man. His scream was cut off a half second after it started. A residual echo seemed to reverberate in the air for a few seconds, but was quickly drowned out by the cacophony in the other room. All that remained, of the snitch, was a small pile of quantum energy-infused dust. It was time to feed. All he needed was... What?! the.. his brain started screaming at him.

Something was wrong. Someone else was there with him.

((OOC: 7 succ. on Teleport...12 levels Agg. Damage....That Creeping Feeling.))

Emmie landed right on target. Decked out in a black glossy full body suit with artificial goggles (it was all eufiber, dontchya know?). She came out of the closet, roataing on her left heel, crouched down and guns leveled. It only took a moment to take in the situation. She could see three men and one woman easily. Thinking that the other two must be out of her line of sight, Emerald the assassin went into action.

The first bullet took the man eating a Chicken Sandwich (who ordered a Chicken Sandwich for room service?) in the chest, right under the arm. He was crumpling instantaneously. The second bullet, from the second gun, took the woman in the arm. Her canned drink went cartwheeling arcoss the room. The woman stumbled down, but was clawing at her gun as she did so.

"How the hell did she get in here?!?" one Federal Agent yelled. The were reacting quickly, but not quickly enough. Emmie pivoted and put two bullets into another man who was diving for cover.
Another one dead, she thought.

Two bullets came back at Emmie. One puckered the wall to in front of her. The other creased her arm. That stung, but wasn't inhibiting. Emmie was counting the bullets, and they were two guns shy.

Were are those guy?she cursed silently.

Emerald concentrated and 'ported behind the sofa on the opposite side of the room. She heard more shots going off. The two remaing agents were still firing their government issue 9mm at the closet when Emmie popped up and fired two quick shots.

A bullet took the wounded female agent in the head. End result was totally dead. The bullet from her left handed gun put a bullet in the other agent's shoulder, dropping him in shock.

(Emmie is about three seconds ahead of Dustie)
(Teleport 1 Success - sweat!)

Need to leave! Dustbin gave up on feeding and began to concentrate. He would head back to the hotel rooms they met in earlier. The familiar weightless sensation started...then stopped. Nothing! Rather then panic, Dustie heard 'E's voice repeat in his head. "If you need me, just open a door". Mikita cautiously moved towards the bedroom door. The shooting had stopped.

Something blue moved at the edges of his peripheral vision. He turned to see a man dressed in a skin-tight silver and green outfit. How did I not see him? Dustbin said with confusion. As the gravity of the situation sunk in, anger began to assert itself. I won't be caged again!

He lashed out with his power, hoping to annihilate the stranger in one blast. The man didn't stand there; he threw, what looked like lightning, at Dustie's own attack, sending it careening off to the side. A bookshelf, as well as part of the wall vanished into sparkling motes of dust. It pissed off Mikita that such a thing was possible. This soul will taste sweeter than all the others!

((6 seconds ahead of E))
((Teleport Disrupted. Power Block successful- 8 levels Agg damage to bookshelf/wall.))

Something was wrong. Emmie was guessing the wrong wrong, but such was the Fog of War. Emmie was calculating two extra agents - that weren't in the room with her, dead.

She walked to the door, casually finishing off the shocky agent without much of a second thought - a heel to his Adam's Apple. It was even more troubling to her that she wasn't hearing gunshots from the other room. She hadn't heard any when she was fighting in the main room and she wasn't hearing any now.

Then came the crashing sound, like a vase or pot falling to the ground. The hairs tingled on the back of her neck. Time to move.

Kick down the door, or 'port in ... kick down the door, or 'port in?
She ported in two what she remembered from the diagrams to be the entry to the patio ... just inside, that is.

She saw Dustie half way to the door, all alone in here then her eyes caught the three meals. A quick assumption was that one would be for the Dead Man, so were were the other two ... a nova!

But where? Emerald's guns scanned the room.

(Teleport 2 successes)

Facing this unknown person, Mikita took up a defensive stance. The two of them circled around the room, eyes locked on each other. The first one to flinch, might gain the initiative, but they also might give up their intentions, and the counter attack could prove deadly.

E! Dustie saw her appear suddenly, with pistols in hand. She always come when she needed, he mused with a smile. Unfortunately, the instant he averted his eyes to look at her, the other nova made his move.

A jarring shock racked Dustie's body; his teeth hurt from biting down with every muscle in his head. With the sweet smell of burnt hair in his sinuses, he turned to face the man again. This time, he sent his own wave of energy at the guardian.

It struck the man and he grunted in pain as his clothing shredded into small strips. Small rivulets of blood broke through the skin in places, but that was it. Impossible?! Mikita said to himself in horror as he realized that the man was resistant to his attacks. He hoped that 'E' would have more success. He was not sure that he could survive another attack

((Took 6 bashing. 2 lethal to other nova))

There was too much going on to process at that moment. Instinct took over. Something close to Emmie tugged at her vision. Dustbin began a fountaining nose-bleed and he lashed back at ...

Emmie ticked her right arm over a few inches, poured her quantum through the gun, and pulled the trigger. A figure in a silver and green bodysuit suddenly squeezed back into reality right in front of her. She had put a bullet in his head and he was careening away. She had hit the son of a bitch good, but not good enough.

He's not dead!she screamed internally.
Keeping her eyes on were she had last seen the Unknown Nova she yelled out, she remembered that Dustie was bleeding.
"Get out of here!"

((4 successes to hit, 4 levels of lethal damage after soak))

Dustbin picks begins a rapid hobble towards the door. He hoped that if he was able to get far enough away, he could use his power again. As he moved beyond the doorway, and into he body-strewn front room, he slowed.

NO! I can't leave

Mikita swiveled, and prepared to enter the bedroom again. His anger was like a volcano. He not getting away with this!

The world didn't make sense anymore. Why was Dustie hobbling away instead of 'porting?
Were was this Son of a bitch? Damnit, he was invisible and that was no good.

The pistols thundered to life, hopefully driving the enemy nova to keep his head down. Emmie crab walked her way to the door, covering Dustbin's retreat. As the last bullet left her guns, she caught some movement coming toward her from the room Dustie had just fled to.

Now what?

To make matters worse, someone started kicking on the door to the hallway. Some of the agents had managed to exit Room #1 and were coming to the rescue.

Oh - Fucking - Wonderful!

The banging at the door to the apartment caused Dustbin to stop. That was no longer a viable exit.

"Can't flee! Did something to power?" He yelled to Emerald in a wet gravely voice. "I not be caged again! I prefer to die fighting!" Strangley, the outburst helped his erupting anger cool down. Even so, he turned towards the door, prepared to take out as many as he could before they killed him. He didn't want to die, but they left him no choice.

Get us out of here 'E'!

"Can't flee! Did something to power?"

Without hesitation, Emmie turned and pressed her body up against his. Her eyes closed in concentration. Dustbin felt her quantum infuse him. The door burst in and two men brought there weapons up to bear. Dustie could have sworn he heard the weapons fire ... but they were gone.

They were back at the room they had started out in. Emmie kept close to to Dustbin and then pressed into him harder, kissing his mangled visage.
"I'll be back," she said breathlessly.

Again, she concentrated and was gone. Dustbin was left alone with the room for about fifteen seconds. She returned with Phillipe who was holding both his case and his rifle. He hadn't had the chance to take the weapon apart and put it away.

Emmie turned and looked to Dustbin,
"Now what happened? Who was that and did you get the Target?"
Phillipe immediately knelt down and began putting his rifle back into its traveling case.

((First teleport 2 successes, including one for WP expenditure!)
((Second teleport 2 successes))
((Third teleport 3 successes))

When she grabbed him his heart started racing. 'E' smelled wonderful. He realized that she was going to 'rescue' him. Not something a woman needs to do to a man. Contrary to what he believed about womwn, he was glad that she cared.

Only when she kissed him did he understand. She had feelings for him. He could only suspect why such a beautiful woman would see in a mangled man like him. It was power. That, he did have. From now on, he would try and share that feeling of power with her. It was the least he could.

When she left, he collapsed to the floor. His body was covered in bruises, and he was tired. He had expended a lot of energy. When 'E' came back, he sat up and eyed her with desire: She had good hips. Hips like that, made for strong healthy children. He hoped she would give him many.



"The target is dead." Dustie said coldly. "What left of him...is gone now." There was a feeling of loss to Dustbin. To him, it was like the loss of a soul when he could not consume the energetic remains.

"I don't know who other was," he said angrily. "No one said there was someone else. He invisible too."

Emmie nodded. She was all business once more.

"I shot him once ... maybe wounded him, but I'm not sure how bad."

She paced back and forth rapidly then stopped and looked at Dustbin.
"I will hunt for signs of betrayal. There are those who despise my Family and don't appreciate the power you represent. There are few who would dare, but ..." she let that trail off.

Phillipe cleared his throat. It was obvious the man was uncomfortable in the presence of these two angry novas.

Emmie didn't acknowledge him with a look. Instead she walked over, touched his head and the two of them were gone once more. the seconds ticked by until she returned. Once back, she peeled the head-covering back and licked her lips.

"Can you move on your own, or do you want to risk a ride with me?" she said suggestively. "I warn you, I'm not as good at this as you are. You need to pick a place I've been to before."

((First Teleport - 1 success))
((Second Teleport - 2 successes)

"I think I can do it," he grinned. He had enough energy to make the jump, he worried whether 'E' had enough.

"If I could carry you. I would." He returned her suggestion. "We meet in place we first met?"

His dark eyes glinted in the light, as they remained fixated on her. He had not bothered to replace the scarf. Soon she blurred, as the surroundings shifted. In an instant, he found himself standing next to a stone table that had been used for sacrifices. It was inside the temple at the top of the Aztec Pyramid where they met months ago. The 10x10 hole he put into the side of it had not been repaired. He hoped it would remain as a monument to his power.

((teleport - 8 succ))

Emmie appeared a moment later. She was beginning to look a bit weary. After a moment looking out over the horizon, she began to laugh.

"I don't know about you, but that was my first nova battle. Not what I expected, but I didn't think I would be ... so angry."

She languished there in the morning sunlight, one legged propped up against the wall on which she leaned. A thick breeze pushed her black hair around. The light played across the glossy black skinsuit even as the shadows seemed to cling to her like the Mexican heat.

His figure was a silouette against the opening he made months earlier. He exposed his head competely, as he slowly but deliberately moved towards her with purpose. Dustbin stopped only a foot from her; the monstrosity, that was his face, was half cloaked in shadows. Reaching out with his hand, he stroked her thick black hair, as if sampling his next meal.

"Your flesh...it would be so easy." His gravelly voice rumbled like pebbles in a stream, as his eyes roamed up and down her body. "Your soul would taste... exquisite."

She looked him with big brown eyes as big as saucers. Emmie kept her breathing under control, but her heart was pounding in her breast. Could this be the moment? Could something inside his ravaged visage be compelling the Demon to kill?

"One day," she then gulped. "One day you will be ready for me, won't you? When you know the time is right for what you need ... I'll be there."

It was a statement. It was a promise.

Mikita cocked his head as he spoke. "Are you afraid of me?"

He half hoped she was. But he also did not want to scare her away. He needed to reassure her.

"I don't want your essence." Deep inside, he knew that one day, he would be forced to do it. It would break his heart. For now though, he sought to taste something different.

"I came for something else." He leaned in to kiss her, with lips that did not exist.

His teeth pressed into her lips. It was like not kiss she'd ever had before. It made her shiver. Was that fear, or something else?

When they parted, she wrapped her arms around his waist and kept him close.
"Yes. I am afraid of you. I'd be a fool not to be, but that doesn't mean I don't want you close."

She kept a solid lock onto his gaze. She was being open and honest with him, and the arousing scent of gunfire was still in her mind.

"The advantage of eufiber is that it opens easy ... if I want it to."

Dustbin became very aroused at her suggestion of opening her eufiber. If he could tear it from her body with his own hands, he would have. A glint in her eyes told him that she was willing. The exposure of her breasts was all he needed to act.

He grabbed her by her arms and sat her on the edge of the altar. Her Eufiber had opened up to just below the naval, and the view of her stomach added to his arousal. For the tall African, 'E' sat on the altar at his groin level. Dustbin had planted himself between her legs. He was not going to let her flee now. In his mind, she was already his. He would take her whether the wanted to or not. It was his right.

His own eufiber opened, exposing skin that was ravaged by disease. His transformation to Demon, did nothing to heal the patches of dead flesh that hung from his mottled physique. The lean muscle underneath the ravaged skin, showed a fit and healthy man, who was more than capable of physical exertion. As more of him was exposed, it was quite apparent, that he was fully functional; his large organ throbbed in arousal.

She followed his hands as they removed the clothes down his body. There, she saw it and it was very happy to see her. A tiny fear was put to rest. What in the hell was she supposed to do if it had been ... damaged as well.

No, it was beautiful and unmarred. She reached out and wrapped her right hand around it, tugging slightly. She leaned forward and kissed Dustbin's chest. Her left hand reached around and strocked his firm buttocks. Emmie kissed up his chest to his neck, touching clean and maimed spots alike. She liked the texture of dessication on her tongue. As she touched the crux of his chin and ear.

"I like it rough," she whispered.

Her hands and fingers felt like silk, yet suprisingly strong for such petite arms. The caressing of her hands and mouth, forced goosebumps to run up his back and down his arms. He shivered at the combined asault.



As if on cue, he reached out with his arm and pushed her flat on the table. With his other arm, he grabbed her thigh and slid her closer to his engorged member. Dustie's stubby, misshaped digits clutched and squeezed her breast. Once she w