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Post by Thatcher on Mar 15, 2007 11:39:19 GMT -5
((Hopefully this thread can be moved to Thatch's permanent residence when he gets one.))
*Thatcher sat at his desk, folding various papers and letters and putting them away. Being a criminal mastermind took fastidious organization. A cigar smouldered fragrantly in the cut-crystal ash tray at his elbow, and a half-full snifter of brandy sat beside the uncorked decanter, throwing wavering refractions of deep amber from the lamplight.*
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Post by Sylvia on Mar 15, 2007 11:52:20 GMT -5
*Hearing the faint rustling, Sylvia slipped silently into the study. Always working… The hood of her long cloak still hid most of her face, but she hoped that she had made enough of an impression that he would remember her voice. The thick accent tumbled out seductively.*
“Forgive me monsieur…there seemed to be no one tending your door. I hope it was not too wicked for me to let myself in.
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Post by Thatcher on Mar 15, 2007 11:55:02 GMT -5
*Thatcher barely glanced up.* "I left it unlocked...I've been expecting you," *he said carelessly, his eyes continuing to scan the written page before him.*
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Post by Sylvia on Mar 15, 2007 12:04:30 GMT -5
*Pulling the hood back, Sylvia took a few more steps into the room. She licked her lip gently, mock-peaking at his document from her vantage that was far too distant for her to actually see anything. She knew better than to pry.*
“I…I do hope that you have something for me…that doesn't involve endless hours of paperwork.”
*She lifted her chin so the lamplight would catch the pale skin of her exposed throat, before lowering her head again submissively.*
“Of course, I will serve as needed. At least if the arrangement is…agreeable.”
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Post by Thatcher on Mar 15, 2007 12:13:00 GMT -5
*Thatcher looked up, now, folding the paper, crisply creasing the edges as he filed it away. He sat perfectly still for a long moment before he rose to his feet.*
"That would depend, wouldn't it--on what you are prepared to offer me," *he said quietly, stepping near her and catching a loose lock of hair, brushing it back from her neck. The gesture was not one of tenderness--rather that of a man carefully and coldly examining the goods he was considering buying.*
"You know I can pay any price...so long as I find it worth my while," *he continued.* "Surely you haven't forgotten the general terms of our...arrangements...in years gone by?"
*He spoke casually, calmly, with no hint of desire blurring his icy grey eyes or lowering his voice. Intimacy was for those who had needs. Thatcher Caine was a man of wants. Indulgence in pleasure was a luxury, and one he could easily afford--but he did not need this woman in his bed, or anyone; and he made certain she knew that.*
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Post by Sylvia on Mar 15, 2007 12:35:54 GMT -5
*She enjoyed the bluntness that Thatcher had always adopted when they were together. A simple transaction, payment for services rendered. No doting, no tediousness, no poorly written poetry. She appreciated that. Perhaps they might prove mutually advantageous to each other. As he brushed back her hair, she leaned her head away slightly, exposing what he was inspecting. She didn’t mind at all. Sylvia let her mouth fall open gently, a silent promise of ecstasy to be had. As he continued, she turned her face back to him, but did not meet his gaze. A smile crept over her and her eyes lifted momentarily to his.*
“I will serve, and will satisfy you. But you already know that.”
*Shifting her gaze away, she continued with the hints of something enticing, if he wanted to take things further that previous occasions.*
“However, if you wanted something new…something…more intense, I am willing to revisit the details of our previous arrangement.”
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Post by Thatcher on Mar 15, 2007 12:48:47 GMT -5
*Thatcher ravished the hooded figure with his eyes, almost able to taste her lips already in his memories of the sultry nights spent in a sprawling Roman villa.*
"You know I do not prefer change..." *he said curtly.* "What you have to offer had better be to my tastes...which I know you know well enough to judge." *He moved to stand behind her, placing a hand on her waist, tracing the swell of her hip beneath her heavy skirts.*
"You know the consequences of deliberate disappointment..."
*He reached into his pocket and withdrew a dark silk back, and took a dully shimmering ornament from it--an necklace, a silver web set with glittering jet, diamonds and opals; dark, hard, and revealing a new facet of mysterious milky fire in every light: the material incarnation of the woman who was to wear it. Thatcher let it drip from his fingertips as he held it before her eyes.*
"...and recall what is at stake."
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Post by Sylvia on Mar 15, 2007 13:01:06 GMT -5
*She conceded; there would be time to talk of it later, once his faith in her was renewed. Bowing her head obediently, Sylvia glanced up at him. The rise and fall of her chest was coming quicker in the anticipation of the thing, visible in contrast to the dark fabric of her dress. She fought not to let her eyes drift to the necklace, mainly focusing instead on his cold gaze.*
“Of course sir. It can be discussed later…if I prove to still be to your liking.”
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Post by Thatcher on Mar 15, 2007 13:07:56 GMT -5
*Thatcher drew back the necklace and secreted it back in the bag and his pocket. He went to his desk, picking up his glass and cigar.*
"Then make your proof..." *he demanded coolly. Going to a leather armchair, he seated himself comfortably and drew upon his cigar, the tip glowing red for a moment.*
"By the time I've finished my drink and my cigar, you'd best have not a stitch on." *He glanced at his pocket watch, taking note of the time.* "I will savour everything, and compensate you amply for any overtime."
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Post by Sylvia on Mar 15, 2007 14:26:25 GMT -5
*A devilish smile crept over her. She waited for him to get comfortable before walking closer to him, her eyes cast downward, the pinnacle of submissiveness. Her movements were smooth and seductive, well practiced in the art of removing her clothing as an art as well as a function. Each layer discarded with grace, prolonged motions increasing the visual stimulation. With each she moved closer to him, leaving a trail of fabric behind her. She finished and paused for a moment nude before kneeling at his feet.*
“Where would it please you to have me? Here…or perhaps your desk?”
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Post by Thatcher on Mar 15, 2007 15:44:11 GMT -5
*Thatcher stood and nodded at the desk.* "The desk seems appropriate--I conduct all my business there," *he said. He gripped her by the waist, hard, and planted her firmly on the expensive furnishing, leaning in to possess her lips with his as her hands went to the waistband of his trousers.*
***FADE OUT***
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Post by Sylvia on Mar 15, 2007 15:59:14 GMT -5
***FADE IN***
“Was it everything you were desiring?”
*Sylvia rolled onto her side, marveling in passing at the high quality of the desk, structurally sound and beautifully crafted. Her eyes sparkled in a peculiar contentment and her skin glowed.*
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Post by Thatcher on Mar 15, 2007 16:04:54 GMT -5
"I am satisfied, thank you," *said Thatcher shortly, buttoning his pants and looking as impeccably-dressed as he had been half an hour earlier. He took the necklace from his pocket and held it out towards Sylvia.* "Then again, you always were an expert at your profession."
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Post by Sylvia on Mar 15, 2007 16:15:23 GMT -5
*Sylvia’s lashes lowered at the compliment. She knew that he meant it. He was not one to veil the truth, especially were business met pleasure.*
“I am happy you are pleased.”
She took the necklace and clasped it over her throat deftly, branding herself in his mark as she remained nude for a bit longer.*
“Thank you. I have been attempting to improve all of my skills since we last met. I didn’t know if you might have need of me in other areas as well. I would hate to arrive without being prepared.”
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Post by Thatcher on Mar 15, 2007 16:21:31 GMT -5
"Espionage, you mean?" *Thatcher buttoned a cuff that had come undone.* "Nothing springs to mind at the moment..." *His thoughts drifted to the bound, gagged and drugged man several rooms away, and he smiled softly for the first time that night.* "But that may change, shortly. As yet my plans are rather...uncertain. I'm waiting upon a response from an...associate."
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