Encounterlogs
Fayads Odd Encounter Sr Ash 240828
The story unfolds in the heart of the Great News Community Center, amidst a backdrop of harried volunteers and individuals seeking solace from life's hardships. Here, under the fervid glow of the full moon, Fayad encounters Lakshmi, a woman with a profound sense of desperation and devotion. Her plea for assistance in returning to her former master, a vampire named Caledor, marks the beginning of an unsettling yet intriguing interaction. Lakshmi, whose traditional attire and visible bruises speak volumes of her recent plight, offers herself unconditionally to Fayad in exchange for his help. Her declaration of willingness to engage in unsavory or illegal acts to serve her master reveals a deep psychological entanglement, prompting Fayad to engage with her request.
As Lakshmi and Fayad retreat to the privacy of the chapel to discuss matters further, Lakshmi's adeptness in fulfilling Fayad's desires and her angelborn nature become apparent. Through a combination of submissive behavior and strategic seduction, Lakshmi coerces Fayad into agreeing to help her reunite with Caledor. Despite the evident manipulation, Fayad, swayed by his immediate gratifications and a promise of loyalty from Lakshmi, commits to orchestrating a meeting between her and Caledor. Following a consummation of their agreement, Fayad performs a ritual intended to incline Caledor to accept Lakshmi once again. Ultimately, the story concludes with Fayad delivering Lakshmi to one of Caledor's clubs, leaving her fate in the hands of the very master she seeks to serve again, marking a poignant end to a tale of manipulation, desire, and the complex dynamics of power and servitude.
(Fayad's odd encounter(SRAsh):SRAsh)
[Mon Aug 19 2024]
In the busy foyer of Great News Community Center
The community center's foyer has a gritty, lived-in feel. Harried volunteers weave through a mix of individuals, some bearing the weight of hard-lived stories on their way to addiction counseling. The aroma from the soup kitchen mingles with a sense of desperation and hope, while a small chapel to the north offers a quiet corner of solace, its doors open to all. Nearby, the religious bookstore stands as a beacon of faith amidst the tangible air of struggle.
Mounted prominently on the wall opposite the entrance is a large cross, along with a slogan: Jesus didn't just give good news, he gave GREAT NEWS!
Aside from it, on the wall next to the entrance to the chapel, a large painting of Saint George engaged in a heavenly battle with a ferocious, massive red dragon dominates the wall, a poignant symbol of the ever-present battle against addiction.
Signs give directions to parts of the community center:
(North) Chapel
(East) Soup Kitchen & Multi-Purpose Room
(South) Bookstore & Gifts
It is night, about 73F(22C) degrees, There is a full moon.
Fayad is doing paperwork at the front desk of Great News.
(Your target and their allies encounter the former thrall of a vampire who has been discarded by their previous owner, likely mind controlled into complete devotion the thrall wants nothing more than to return. It is up to the characters to either help them return, or stop them from doing so.
)
It is night. It is a full moon. Wolves howl, their calls ringing through the night, inspiring the hair on the back of Fayad's neck to rise, coaxing subconscious thoughts to float up into Fayad's mind. Thoughts of a hunt, perhaps, especially when those howls sound close by. Too close. Thoughts of vengeance, perhaps, to shut the damn racket up... or, perhaps, to play a symphony of whimpers and howls of pain. Whatever thoughts might come through Fayad's mind, the desires of the moment burn like fire through his mind. Almost as if stoked purposely by some sort of-
A car screeches to a stop outside. A car door opens, and a deep voice yells harshly, the exact words muffled as there's a thump, and a cry, despair and hurt following. There's the beginning of pleading- and the door slams shut, the car pealing out in a screech. As the sound fades, sobbing can be heard. Though, there's no need to go and look for it... it approaches the door, and opens it. A woman, broad of chest and hips, stumbles in, tears running down her face. Her makeup-less brown eyes are red and puffy, and her lips, a darker brown than her chestnut skin tone, tremble. Her tall, solid form seems weak, her black, wavy hair spilling over her shoulders and face, messy and limp. Though her traditional garb, a plain red choli over a matching pleated shirt, complete with red and gold rimmed sari, does well to maintain modesty, the bruises on her stomach and arms are as visible as the ones on her neck.
Upon seeing Fayad, she stumbles forward, falling to her knees before you. Another battered wife, with no where else to go? This isn't a woman's shelter, but Haven simply may not have one.
Fayad examines the Indian woman impassively, not in the mood to put on a show of empathy. "You can sit on the bench there if you need to," he instructs the woman. "It's better on your knees than the ground. We have food here and warmth," he mentions. "And we're not going to ask any questions."
obeys immediately, still sobbing, as she moves over to the bench. She manages to work through her sniffles enough to ask, "R-right... sir. B-but... I need help. I-i n-need... to f-find him." She sniffs, wiping her face, before sitting up straighter, as if remembering her pride. "Can you help me? I'll... I'll do anything you desire, so long as I can get back to him. The..." Her voice falls, her only slight Indian accent thickening a bit here as she murmurs, "The world is meaningless if I can't serve him...." She looks down at her hands, pinching them together as she explains, "I-i... take care of him, I'm... no one else can do it better than me. He *has* to know that. She frowns, lips pouting a bit as she adds, "I'm the best... I'm the one..." Her brown eyes look back over Fayad, long lashes fluttering a bit as she leans forward... not that her choli allows any cleavage to spill out. "I would do anything, sir... if you'd help." Her eyes are wide, now, intense as she focuses on him."
The woman obeys immediately, still sobbing, as she moves over to the bench. She manages to work through her sniffles enough to ask, "R-right... sir. B-but... I need help. I-i n-need... to f-find him." She sniffs, wiping her face, before sitting up straighter, as if remembering her pride. "Can you help me? I'll... I'll do anything you desire, so long as I can get back to him. The..." Her voice falls, her only slight Indian accent thickening a bit here as she murmurs, "The world is meaningless if I can't serve him...." She looks down at her hands, pinching them together as she explains, "I-i... take care of him, I'm... no one else can do it better than me. He *has* to know that. She frowns, lips pouting a bit as she adds, "I'm the best... I'm the one..." Her brown eyes look back over Fayad, long lashes fluttering a bit as she leans forward... not that her choli allows any cleavage to spill out. "I would do anything, sir... if you'd help." Her eyes are wide, now, intense as she focuses on him. (fix)"
Fayad frowns, his eyes narrowing as he ascertains the woman's mental state. "Anything?", he mutters, distracted momentarily by her prodigious...features. "I'll need to know who you're talking about. The man that just dropped you off? The man that gave you all those bruises?", he inquires.
The woman shakes her head, the tears stemming as she realizes that she has Fayad's interest, though occasional hiccups shake her torso. "No, his... that was another of his servants." She does not clarify if the servant caused the bruises, or just dropped her off. "Absolutely anything, sir, yes. Even if it's... unsavory or..." Her voice drops lower as she leans forward, whispering, "Illegal. I would owe you a life's worth of favor." Her gaze burns into Fayad's before she stands, wobbling a bit as she takes a step forward. "Simply tell me your desires, sir... you don't even have to speak them. I can serve you so well that I can give you what you want before you even ask." She takes another step closer, her voice wavering between confident coaxing and trembling desperation.
She shakes her head, the tears stemming as the woman realizes that she has Fayad's interest, though occasional hiccups shake her torso. "No, his... that was another of his servants." She does not clarify if the servant caused the bruises, or just dropped her off. "Absolutely anything, sir, yes. Even if it's... unsavory or..." Her voice drops lower as she leans forward, whispering, "Illegal. I would owe you a life's worth of favor." Her gaze burns into Fayad's before she stands, wobbling a bit as she takes a step forward. "Simply tell me your desires, sir... you don't even have to speak them. I can serve you so well that I can give you what you want before you even ask." She takes another step closer, her voice wavering between confident coaxing and trembling desperation. (fix)
Fayad raises a brow, both suspicious and titillated by the prospect. Who just discards a perfectly good angelborn...? He passes off the operation of the front desk to a volunteer as he goes to open the chapel and walk inside - for privacy. " Let's talk inside, then, " he tells her. "What's your name? "
Following Fayad into the chapel, the woman's steps are quiet and hurried, perhaps professionally trained to serve. Obediently, she responds, "Lakshmi." She raises her chin, as if the name is a gift granted, a strange mixture of submissiveness and pride marking her personality. She adjusts her hair, attempting to fix herself up somewhat. She doesn't offer a last name, though.
Fayad closes the door behind them and locks it, turning with a curious expression towards Lakshmi. Notably, he doesn't bother giving his own name. "You're quite aware?", he asks, just to make sure, even as he vividly imagines and attempts to yearn for her to remove an article or two of clothing, thinking with his lower brain even as he tests his angelborn hypothesis.
With a smile, Lakshmi nods to Fayad, removing her pins and unraveling her sari, folding it over her arm. The pleats of her skirt goes along with it, revealing a split skirt beneath, a cut up the leg, and the cloth thin, giving off a silhouette. "Of course, sir... I could hardly serve without being 'aware' of what was happening." Her smile is amused, and she shifts to one leg, taking off her moccasin-like shoe off as she wobbles, then the next one. However, this leg seems weaker, as she pulls off the shoe - but loses her balance, falling towards Fayad with cry of surprise.
Fayad is suitably impressed by her proof of being angelblooded. "Huh... nice..", he comments, lasciviously before he yelps as Lakshmi barrels the short man to the ground, likely taller and bigger than him in just about every way. At least the carpet here is plush-ish despite its age. He serves as a cushion for her, groaning, but.... having her on top of him isn't exactly unpleasant judging by the bulge in his jeans.
Lakshmi apologizes profusely after landing, her chest, a decent C cup, pressing against his belly as her bare midriff presses against his jeans. She winces, her bruises not appreciating the fall at all, as she asks, "I'm so sorry, sir... are you alright?" She reaches out, running her hand over Fayad's hair, stroking it as she feels around to the back of his head. She lifts her torso up with her other elbow, sliding forward as she does, so that she's looking down at his face. "I am so sorry... I meant to ask for your help, but instead, I've harmed you... I didn't mean it, sir." Her voice falls a tad deeper, as she works her craft.
"I, uh, I know you didn't, probably a leg bruise or- or something. I'm fine, " Fayad stammers, staring up into Lakshmi's face, the diminutive man easily seduced, it seems. The hair on the back of his neck is standing up from the sensation of his hair and the back of his head being cradled.
Fayad says "I, uh. Who's... the.. you need to, uh..."
Fayad is distracted by his current level of arousal due to all the woman on top of him, but he's not making any effort to extricate himself.
Triumphant, Lakshmi smiles warmly, though there's almost a predatory tint to it. She pushes from her elbow to her palm, sliding herself forward as she stops pretending that she's doing anything but trying to sate his most immediate desires. "My master," she explains as she straddles Fayad. "He is...." Then, she frowns, tilting her head and glancing away from Fayad slightly. Then, with an idea, she smiles and says, "I'm not allowed to say his name, or write it. But... I can trace it...." And here, she takes her hand back, running both down over Fayad's shoulders to tug his shirt up from under her. She pushes it up to almost his armpits before letting it go, allowing him to decide whether or not to take it off completely.
Fayad seems pleased enough to have his face in such close proximity to barely clad titties. He permits Lakshmi to take his shirt off, rather excited about the eroticism of having a woman throw herself at him despite the circumstances. His svelte, soft torso is revealed. "I'll pay attention. Trace whatever you want, " he eagerly tells her, wanting to feel her hands on his body.
There, on her neck, hidden by her hair, but a glimpse is given to Fayad. puncture marks, several pairs in different stages of healing.
Fayad takes note of this, but is busy abusing his position of power to get laid.
Lakshmi smiles, saying softly, "Very good, sir," she praises, before drawing with her fingernails. The pressure is light, but not so light as to tickle, as she traces a name, letter by letter. C... A... L... E... D... O... R. She smiles with great pleasure as she finishes, perhaps thinking herself clever, and her eyes look encouragingly at Fayad, hoping that he will figure it out.
And, with his occult knowledge, he can recognize the name, should he recognize the letters correctly. A vampire, one well known by those in the occult society. He is famous for owning several clubs that only serve the supernatural and, to a lesser extent, the Aware, though unaware are occasionally allowed in for... feeding. It wouldn't be difficult to contact one of those places, at least. It seems easy... very easy. Too easy, perhaps, but does suspicion even exist for Fayad right now?
Fayad is a very simple man with a very simple smile right now. He loves being praised, so he seeks her approval immediately. "Caledor," he murmurs. "I can get you to him..", but his right hand raises up to caress the woman's side, down to the hip.
And she grins, saying, "Yes, sir! Very clever, yes." She leans forward, sliding both hands up to his head, running her fingers through his hair. "I'd be ever so grateful, sir...," she continues, bringing her chest forward as she kisses... Fayad's forehead. Still, her hips rise as she does, allowing him to reach forward if he likes. There's the slightest flinching as he runs across the bruises, but it hardly slows her down. "But... the problem is, he's thrown me out. You can convince him to take me back, right?" Her voice is soft, a whisper... but one tinged with urgency, or desperation. "You can explain to him... just because I taste different... it doesn't mean I can't serve him, right?" Her confidence shudders as anxiety works its way through, and her fingers tighten in Fayad's hair.
Fayad gasps as his clothed member rubs against her plush thigh, and he flushes with utter submission as she kisses him right on the forehead - she's secured dominance, leading Fayad anywhere she wants by the combination of being pleasant and mommy-like. "If he didn't care, he wouldn't have had you dropped here, " he comments, seeing a hint of compassion in the act. "I'm... sure I can. Lakshmi," he grunts, gently luxuriating in his hand slowly moving up to play with a breast.
She looks vulnerable for a moment as she asks, "Will you swear? Will you make an Oath? When? When can you do it?" Her voice shifts from desperate to commanding, interrogating him as her fingers hold tighter. "He didn't drop me off here... I asked one of his servants, and he... well, I offered him anything, and he took it, and left me here. You won't do the same." It's not a question, no.
Fayad frowns. She's really bringing down the mood by introducing all these complications. "I promise I'll get you there, and I'll try to influence him to take you back, but I can't vow it. I'm the best you're going to get. If you please me, I'll throw in a ritual that'll incline him to accept you, " he negotiates with the hot piece of ass atop him. "You're hurting my scalp," he points out.
Releasing Fayad immediately, Lakshmi looking apologetic. But, she smiles, asking, "A ritual, really? Thank you... now, how can I please you, sir?" She asks coyly, as if she can't feel his desires intuitively, with her newfound power. She does just that, giving into every desire he offers her way, so long as it doesn't kill her, or make her unable to serve this Caledor later. As an angelborn, she is attentive, praising Fayad and telling him how he makes her feel good, as well as showing enthusiasm in filling his desires, as if she was made to do it, and it gives her focus.
Afterwards, of course, aftercare, before she starts asking more about when Fayad will do it, how soon, what more she could possibly do, offering to help with the ritual however she can, though she clearly has no knowledge on how they work.
Fayad performs the ritual without much fuss, taking Lakshmi down in his van to one of his clubs and dropping her off there after wishing her the best, their transaction over.
As Lakshmi and Fayad retreat to the privacy of the chapel to discuss matters further, Lakshmi's adeptness in fulfilling Fayad's desires and her angelborn nature become apparent. Through a combination of submissive behavior and strategic seduction, Lakshmi coerces Fayad into agreeing to help her reunite with Caledor. Despite the evident manipulation, Fayad, swayed by his immediate gratifications and a promise of loyalty from Lakshmi, commits to orchestrating a meeting between her and Caledor. Following a consummation of their agreement, Fayad performs a ritual intended to incline Caledor to accept Lakshmi once again. Ultimately, the story concludes with Fayad delivering Lakshmi to one of Caledor's clubs, leaving her fate in the hands of the very master she seeks to serve again, marking a poignant end to a tale of manipulation, desire, and the complex dynamics of power and servitude.
(Fayad's odd encounter(SRAsh):SRAsh)
[Mon Aug 19 2024]
In the busy foyer of Great News Community Center
The community center's foyer has a gritty, lived-in feel. Harried volunteers weave through a mix of individuals, some bearing the weight of hard-lived stories on their way to addiction counseling. The aroma from the soup kitchen mingles with a sense of desperation and hope, while a small chapel to the north offers a quiet corner of solace, its doors open to all. Nearby, the religious bookstore stands as a beacon of faith amidst the tangible air of struggle.
Mounted prominently on the wall opposite the entrance is a large cross, along with a slogan: Jesus didn't just give good news, he gave GREAT NEWS!
Aside from it, on the wall next to the entrance to the chapel, a large painting of Saint George engaged in a heavenly battle with a ferocious, massive red dragon dominates the wall, a poignant symbol of the ever-present battle against addiction.
Signs give directions to parts of the community center:
(North) Chapel
(East) Soup Kitchen & Multi-Purpose Room
(South) Bookstore & Gifts
It is night, about 73F(22C) degrees, There is a full moon.
Fayad is doing paperwork at the front desk of Great News.
(Your target and their allies encounter the former thrall of a vampire who has been discarded by their previous owner, likely mind controlled into complete devotion the thrall wants nothing more than to return. It is up to the characters to either help them return, or stop them from doing so.
)
It is night. It is a full moon. Wolves howl, their calls ringing through the night, inspiring the hair on the back of Fayad's neck to rise, coaxing subconscious thoughts to float up into Fayad's mind. Thoughts of a hunt, perhaps, especially when those howls sound close by. Too close. Thoughts of vengeance, perhaps, to shut the damn racket up... or, perhaps, to play a symphony of whimpers and howls of pain. Whatever thoughts might come through Fayad's mind, the desires of the moment burn like fire through his mind. Almost as if stoked purposely by some sort of-
A car screeches to a stop outside. A car door opens, and a deep voice yells harshly, the exact words muffled as there's a thump, and a cry, despair and hurt following. There's the beginning of pleading- and the door slams shut, the car pealing out in a screech. As the sound fades, sobbing can be heard. Though, there's no need to go and look for it... it approaches the door, and opens it. A woman, broad of chest and hips, stumbles in, tears running down her face. Her makeup-less brown eyes are red and puffy, and her lips, a darker brown than her chestnut skin tone, tremble. Her tall, solid form seems weak, her black, wavy hair spilling over her shoulders and face, messy and limp. Though her traditional garb, a plain red choli over a matching pleated shirt, complete with red and gold rimmed sari, does well to maintain modesty, the bruises on her stomach and arms are as visible as the ones on her neck.
Upon seeing Fayad, she stumbles forward, falling to her knees before you. Another battered wife, with no where else to go? This isn't a woman's shelter, but Haven simply may not have one.
Fayad examines the Indian woman impassively, not in the mood to put on a show of empathy. "You can sit on the bench there if you need to," he instructs the woman. "It's better on your knees than the ground. We have food here and warmth," he mentions. "And we're not going to ask any questions."
obeys immediately, still sobbing, as she moves over to the bench. She manages to work through her sniffles enough to ask, "R-right... sir. B-but... I need help. I-i n-need... to f-find him." She sniffs, wiping her face, before sitting up straighter, as if remembering her pride. "Can you help me? I'll... I'll do anything you desire, so long as I can get back to him. The..." Her voice falls, her only slight Indian accent thickening a bit here as she murmurs, "The world is meaningless if I can't serve him...." She looks down at her hands, pinching them together as she explains, "I-i... take care of him, I'm... no one else can do it better than me. He *has* to know that. She frowns, lips pouting a bit as she adds, "I'm the best... I'm the one..." Her brown eyes look back over Fayad, long lashes fluttering a bit as she leans forward... not that her choli allows any cleavage to spill out. "I would do anything, sir... if you'd help." Her eyes are wide, now, intense as she focuses on him."
The woman obeys immediately, still sobbing, as she moves over to the bench. She manages to work through her sniffles enough to ask, "R-right... sir. B-but... I need help. I-i n-need... to f-find him." She sniffs, wiping her face, before sitting up straighter, as if remembering her pride. "Can you help me? I'll... I'll do anything you desire, so long as I can get back to him. The..." Her voice falls, her only slight Indian accent thickening a bit here as she murmurs, "The world is meaningless if I can't serve him...." She looks down at her hands, pinching them together as she explains, "I-i... take care of him, I'm... no one else can do it better than me. He *has* to know that. She frowns, lips pouting a bit as she adds, "I'm the best... I'm the one..." Her brown eyes look back over Fayad, long lashes fluttering a bit as she leans forward... not that her choli allows any cleavage to spill out. "I would do anything, sir... if you'd help." Her eyes are wide, now, intense as she focuses on him. (fix)"
Fayad frowns, his eyes narrowing as he ascertains the woman's mental state. "Anything?", he mutters, distracted momentarily by her prodigious...features. "I'll need to know who you're talking about. The man that just dropped you off? The man that gave you all those bruises?", he inquires.
The woman shakes her head, the tears stemming as she realizes that she has Fayad's interest, though occasional hiccups shake her torso. "No, his... that was another of his servants." She does not clarify if the servant caused the bruises, or just dropped her off. "Absolutely anything, sir, yes. Even if it's... unsavory or..." Her voice drops lower as she leans forward, whispering, "Illegal. I would owe you a life's worth of favor." Her gaze burns into Fayad's before she stands, wobbling a bit as she takes a step forward. "Simply tell me your desires, sir... you don't even have to speak them. I can serve you so well that I can give you what you want before you even ask." She takes another step closer, her voice wavering between confident coaxing and trembling desperation.
She shakes her head, the tears stemming as the woman realizes that she has Fayad's interest, though occasional hiccups shake her torso. "No, his... that was another of his servants." She does not clarify if the servant caused the bruises, or just dropped her off. "Absolutely anything, sir, yes. Even if it's... unsavory or..." Her voice drops lower as she leans forward, whispering, "Illegal. I would owe you a life's worth of favor." Her gaze burns into Fayad's before she stands, wobbling a bit as she takes a step forward. "Simply tell me your desires, sir... you don't even have to speak them. I can serve you so well that I can give you what you want before you even ask." She takes another step closer, her voice wavering between confident coaxing and trembling desperation. (fix)
Fayad raises a brow, both suspicious and titillated by the prospect. Who just discards a perfectly good angelborn...? He passes off the operation of the front desk to a volunteer as he goes to open the chapel and walk inside - for privacy. " Let's talk inside, then, " he tells her. "What's your name? "
Following Fayad into the chapel, the woman's steps are quiet and hurried, perhaps professionally trained to serve. Obediently, she responds, "Lakshmi." She raises her chin, as if the name is a gift granted, a strange mixture of submissiveness and pride marking her personality. She adjusts her hair, attempting to fix herself up somewhat. She doesn't offer a last name, though.
Fayad closes the door behind them and locks it, turning with a curious expression towards Lakshmi. Notably, he doesn't bother giving his own name. "You're quite aware?", he asks, just to make sure, even as he vividly imagines and attempts to yearn for her to remove an article or two of clothing, thinking with his lower brain even as he tests his angelborn hypothesis.
With a smile, Lakshmi nods to Fayad, removing her pins and unraveling her sari, folding it over her arm. The pleats of her skirt goes along with it, revealing a split skirt beneath, a cut up the leg, and the cloth thin, giving off a silhouette. "Of course, sir... I could hardly serve without being 'aware' of what was happening." Her smile is amused, and she shifts to one leg, taking off her moccasin-like shoe off as she wobbles, then the next one. However, this leg seems weaker, as she pulls off the shoe - but loses her balance, falling towards Fayad with cry of surprise.
Fayad is suitably impressed by her proof of being angelblooded. "Huh... nice..", he comments, lasciviously before he yelps as Lakshmi barrels the short man to the ground, likely taller and bigger than him in just about every way. At least the carpet here is plush-ish despite its age. He serves as a cushion for her, groaning, but.... having her on top of him isn't exactly unpleasant judging by the bulge in his jeans.
Lakshmi apologizes profusely after landing, her chest, a decent C cup, pressing against his belly as her bare midriff presses against his jeans. She winces, her bruises not appreciating the fall at all, as she asks, "I'm so sorry, sir... are you alright?" She reaches out, running her hand over Fayad's hair, stroking it as she feels around to the back of his head. She lifts her torso up with her other elbow, sliding forward as she does, so that she's looking down at his face. "I am so sorry... I meant to ask for your help, but instead, I've harmed you... I didn't mean it, sir." Her voice falls a tad deeper, as she works her craft.
"I, uh, I know you didn't, probably a leg bruise or- or something. I'm fine, " Fayad stammers, staring up into Lakshmi's face, the diminutive man easily seduced, it seems. The hair on the back of his neck is standing up from the sensation of his hair and the back of his head being cradled.
Fayad says "I, uh. Who's... the.. you need to, uh..."
Fayad is distracted by his current level of arousal due to all the woman on top of him, but he's not making any effort to extricate himself.
Triumphant, Lakshmi smiles warmly, though there's almost a predatory tint to it. She pushes from her elbow to her palm, sliding herself forward as she stops pretending that she's doing anything but trying to sate his most immediate desires. "My master," she explains as she straddles Fayad. "He is...." Then, she frowns, tilting her head and glancing away from Fayad slightly. Then, with an idea, she smiles and says, "I'm not allowed to say his name, or write it. But... I can trace it...." And here, she takes her hand back, running both down over Fayad's shoulders to tug his shirt up from under her. She pushes it up to almost his armpits before letting it go, allowing him to decide whether or not to take it off completely.
Fayad seems pleased enough to have his face in such close proximity to barely clad titties. He permits Lakshmi to take his shirt off, rather excited about the eroticism of having a woman throw herself at him despite the circumstances. His svelte, soft torso is revealed. "I'll pay attention. Trace whatever you want, " he eagerly tells her, wanting to feel her hands on his body.
There, on her neck, hidden by her hair, but a glimpse is given to Fayad. puncture marks, several pairs in different stages of healing.
Fayad takes note of this, but is busy abusing his position of power to get laid.
Lakshmi smiles, saying softly, "Very good, sir," she praises, before drawing with her fingernails. The pressure is light, but not so light as to tickle, as she traces a name, letter by letter. C... A... L... E... D... O... R. She smiles with great pleasure as she finishes, perhaps thinking herself clever, and her eyes look encouragingly at Fayad, hoping that he will figure it out.
And, with his occult knowledge, he can recognize the name, should he recognize the letters correctly. A vampire, one well known by those in the occult society. He is famous for owning several clubs that only serve the supernatural and, to a lesser extent, the Aware, though unaware are occasionally allowed in for... feeding. It wouldn't be difficult to contact one of those places, at least. It seems easy... very easy. Too easy, perhaps, but does suspicion even exist for Fayad right now?
Fayad is a very simple man with a very simple smile right now. He loves being praised, so he seeks her approval immediately. "Caledor," he murmurs. "I can get you to him..", but his right hand raises up to caress the woman's side, down to the hip.
And she grins, saying, "Yes, sir! Very clever, yes." She leans forward, sliding both hands up to his head, running her fingers through his hair. "I'd be ever so grateful, sir...," she continues, bringing her chest forward as she kisses... Fayad's forehead. Still, her hips rise as she does, allowing him to reach forward if he likes. There's the slightest flinching as he runs across the bruises, but it hardly slows her down. "But... the problem is, he's thrown me out. You can convince him to take me back, right?" Her voice is soft, a whisper... but one tinged with urgency, or desperation. "You can explain to him... just because I taste different... it doesn't mean I can't serve him, right?" Her confidence shudders as anxiety works its way through, and her fingers tighten in Fayad's hair.
Fayad gasps as his clothed member rubs against her plush thigh, and he flushes with utter submission as she kisses him right on the forehead - she's secured dominance, leading Fayad anywhere she wants by the combination of being pleasant and mommy-like. "If he didn't care, he wouldn't have had you dropped here, " he comments, seeing a hint of compassion in the act. "I'm... sure I can. Lakshmi," he grunts, gently luxuriating in his hand slowly moving up to play with a breast.
She looks vulnerable for a moment as she asks, "Will you swear? Will you make an Oath? When? When can you do it?" Her voice shifts from desperate to commanding, interrogating him as her fingers hold tighter. "He didn't drop me off here... I asked one of his servants, and he... well, I offered him anything, and he took it, and left me here. You won't do the same." It's not a question, no.
Fayad frowns. She's really bringing down the mood by introducing all these complications. "I promise I'll get you there, and I'll try to influence him to take you back, but I can't vow it. I'm the best you're going to get. If you please me, I'll throw in a ritual that'll incline him to accept you, " he negotiates with the hot piece of ass atop him. "You're hurting my scalp," he points out.
Releasing Fayad immediately, Lakshmi looking apologetic. But, she smiles, asking, "A ritual, really? Thank you... now, how can I please you, sir?" She asks coyly, as if she can't feel his desires intuitively, with her newfound power. She does just that, giving into every desire he offers her way, so long as it doesn't kill her, or make her unable to serve this Caledor later. As an angelborn, she is attentive, praising Fayad and telling him how he makes her feel good, as well as showing enthusiasm in filling his desires, as if she was made to do it, and it gives her focus.
Afterwards, of course, aftercare, before she starts asking more about when Fayad will do it, how soon, what more she could possibly do, offering to help with the ritual however she can, though she clearly has no knowledge on how they work.
Fayad performs the ritual without much fuss, taking Lakshmi down in his van to one of his clubs and dropping her off there after wishing her the best, their transaction over.