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Ante, Part One

Reply to CJ

Posted to the RoswellBDSM mailing list March 11, 2001

Title: Ante 1/?
Author: CJ
Feedback: Appreciated
Disclaimer: I'm not allowed to own sharp implements, let alone characters in a major TV series. I own nothing.
Rating: NC17,slash, bondage. It's sick but it's not non-consensual.
Maria/characters to be named later

Notes: This is based on a challenge I read a while ago, and hoped someone who could actually write would take. I can't remember who issued the challenge, and I changed it anyways. I have more written but I thought I'd see what the reaction was to this part. This is an apology for never feedbacking all the great writers on this list because I can't think of anything to say but "uh, wow." If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, this is it. If bad imitation is flattery that makes you feel superior, then that's what this is.

        The figure slipped through the window into the darkened room. And after taking a moment to gain bearings, immediately started rifling through drawers, looking under beds.

        "C'mon, c'mon! The little bitch has gotta have one; no way she keeps her thoughts to herself."

        There was a pause. Then a low chuckle. Near the bed was a collection of binders and textbooks. That was not the little chica's MO. There were many things a little spitfire like her would require near the bed, but "Topics in Chemistry" was not one of them. A quick flip through the chemistry book revealed photographs hidden between the pages, shots of Maria DeLuca in various stages of undress, hair falling over one eye, bra strap sliding down a shoulder. Another with Maria staring directly at the camera, pouting, her hands holding up her bare breasts as if in offering. Another of Maria splay legged on the bed, in a black G-string and bra, with the little Ava-clone snuggled in her lap, peeking kittenishly at the camera. Another just a close-up of Maria's suck me, fuck me lips. There was a pause as the photograph was slipped into a leather jacket.

        There was also a newspaper clipping of a tall blonde woman in a santa hat dominating a group of children, her aspect martial and proud. The caption said "Isabel Evans directs this years Christmas pageant." It might as well have said "Isabel Evans subjugates local merchant's offspring. " The figure looked at the clipping again. Yeah, she knew that smile. She knew the lust that it hid.

        The photos were diverting but not what was required. No need to check out the industrial size thermos; no secret what would be hidden in there. A trapper keeper was unzipped to reveal a fly swatter, and kitchen tongs? Ooh, the little kink was just begging for it, wasn't she? And she'd be begging for a looong time.

        A biology book. With a rectangle cut out to create a hiding place for a slim black book. This was the goods. Time to get a lowdown on the inner thoughts of one little toy called Maria DeLuca. Hmmm.

        October 3---Had another fight with Michael. Over Bottle Job. Well, I fought and he stared into space. I accused him of sleeping with her; actually, I accused him of sleeping with her, Isabel, and Julie, the Time-Life operator. I also implied that he was having unnatural relations with the pepperjack that he keeps neglecting to put on Brody's subs. God, he is sooo impossible. He didn't even bother to tell me to shut up! He just kind of shoved me out of the way and kept right on flipping those astroburgers. Why can't he talk, or look at me, or anything? I'd do anything for a look, or a touch or a command.

        October 7---Tonight was a little weird. It was karaoke night at the Pizza Pan, but as usual Liz was too busy to go. Not too busy to whine for an hour and a half over the whole Max/Kyle/Future Max Jerry Springer episode deal, however. Anyways, Max said he'd go, and Tess wanted to come, and Alex and Kyle too. It was actually pretty excellent. I had a blast dancing with Tess, and it was cool to have Alex back. Alex rules with or without the whole "I found my love jones in Stockholm" vibe. Anyways, I was irritating Max on the ride home by blasting my old Blondie tape and scream-singing along, and he just reached over and turned the stereo off. No apologies, no words nothing. I buckled over the wheel I was so turned on. He looked at me kind of funny and then started talking about the granolith, and his responsibilities, and Brody and the dupes, and I snapped out of it, like, oh, yeah Max is my friend but he is boring and makes me tired! Yay! What the hell is going on with me? No word from Michael.

        October 13--- Tonight was the best "error in judgement" I've had since the heatwave. Tess came over and got all shy and then asked if I would do her a huge favor. She got all red but finally said that she wanted to give Kyle some sexy photos of herself for his birthday and would I help. Let me tell you, that girl had no instinct on what to do in front of a camera, so I posed for a few shots to kind of give her the idea, and then I took pictures of her. It was hot and kind of innocent at the same time. After an hour or so, she kind of crawled across my lap to get her pants, and used her powers to push the polaroid button a couple of times. She gave me one of the pictures and said "To remember today by" and then did this kind of happy bounce. I thought about kissing her, but then she handed me the other pictures of me and said "maybe you want to give these to Michael." Yeah, I can see that. "I'm a soldier, Maria. I can't have pictures of a naked girl in my possession because it could weigh me down in battle." What a prick. I just shrugged and told Tess I had stuff to do. One thing, though. I'm keeping the pictures. For ME.

        November 3---Mom's away for the weekend. Liz is with her parents. Max and Isabel and Tess and Michael are having a meeting at the Granolith, Kyle tells me. What I want to know is, what the hell is a granolith? I mean, I know grunt-boy took me to see it, but I still don't know what the hell it is. By the way, I asked Kyle if he liked his birthday present from Tess, and he said his birthday was in March, and what the hell was I talking about? I'm sick of having to make all the decisions. I'm sick of being alone.

        Maria DeLuca had been having a horrible day. First, Liz cancels at work, leaving her alone with all the tables and the world's only extraterrestrial warrior/fry cook bent on ignoring her as much as possible. She was hot, tired and wanted to take a shower and crawl into bed. A bed in which a woman with a leather jacket, tattoos and an attitude was already in.

        "Lonnie?!! What the fuck?" Maria cried.

        "Ria, my sweet." Lonnie stood up and smiled. "The name is Vilandra."

        "OK, Spacebitch. Out of my house." Maria's eyes fell to her journal. "Oh, my god. That's an invasion of privacy, babe. On any planet."

        "Nah, I've come a long way to see you, lover." Lonnie stood and stretched, her crimson T stretched tight across her nipples. "I've come a long way just to get to make you whimper, so shut ya mouth before I'm forced ta gag ya with my slit, and rob us of all the sweet little foreplay I had planned."

        "Oh, you planned ahead, that's so sweet" Maria drawled, sarcastically.

        "Yeah, honey thighs, I did. I planned a nice little game of Truth or Dare." Lonnie smirked, trailing a finger around the neck of her V necked T shirt, drawing Maria's gaze to her nipples. "I tell you a truth about yourself and you do the dare that I tell you."

        "Do I get to tell you a truth about yourself?" asked Maria sweetly. "Cause I can think of some prime facts about you."

        "Tell ya what lover, you take five rounds of my truths and I'll let you switch, if you want. But then you have to tell all the truths; you won't be under my whip anymore, princess"

        "Your whip?" Maria swallowed hard.

        "Figuratively speaking. But if we start to play, we finish." As Lonnie spoke, she pulled a pair of cuffs out of her back jeans pocket, and swung them slowly in front of Maria's eyes. "No backing out."

        "I won't agree to this." Maria said, laughing nervously.

        "Aiight," Lonnie shrugged, "missed your chance babe."

        Maria watched Lonnie stride toward the window. She was wearing steel- toed boots, with a stiletto heel. Who made such things? Lonnie's jeans looked like they'd been sliced up with razor blades, and her golden upper thigh was exposed through one of the slits.

        "Wait." Maria shook her head. Who said that? It couldn't have been her.

        Lonnie spun around and gave a slow easy grin. "Kneel, bitch. I'll only stay if you're on your knees."

Continue to Part Two

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