Confessions (Keating)

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

Confessions (Keating)

Postby Cassandra Coven on May 4th, 2011, 2:27 am

Cassandra forced herself to stand even as she nursed her sprained wrist close to her chest. Keating was angry, and he had every right to be, but he did not have to be. This was not how she had wanted this scenario to play out. Cassandra would have confessed everything to him but everything had turned out wrong.

His raised voice was not helping either. Not only was he scaring her but she had no doubt that occupants of the rest of the floor, and most likely those living above and below as well, had heard everything he had screamed out. Cassandra feared she might get driven out of her home after this incident. But that was the least of her worries at the moment.

"Keating... Keating... please, calm down," she begged, fighting through her tears to inject peace and reason into her voice in an effort to soothe the the man's agitation. She reached out with her good hand to offer him her touch, to let him know through the contact that she was still human.

But his next words were like a physical blow to her, lashing out at her as he attacked her character, her very being. It snapped whatever composure Cassandra had been trying to regain and she burst into tears once again.

"How dare you?" she gasped through broken sobs. "Do you think of me as just some harlot? I do not give myself to just anyone! I never have! Only to you!"

Her cheeks burned at the slight, her eyes flooded with tears unchecked, and Cassandra covered her face in the shame Keating had inflicted upon her. Twice now he had called her a whore, blatantly and explicitly, and she thought that perhaps he had seen her as that all along as reflected by his treatment of her from the very beginning of their relationship. The dark-haired woman was hurt and highly offended that he would see her as such. While it was true that she flirted and even allowed some tavern patrons to slip a grope or a pinch in order to get a better tip, no one had gotten any further than that. It had all been part of work in her point of view. Keating had been the only one she had willingly given herself to. To find out that he saw her as nothing more than a plaything to relieve his needs, it was too much for poor Cassandra to take. She doubted that he even cared about the difficulties she faced. Even the words he spoke was all about him.

"Do you even know how hard a burden this is to bear?" she asked him, displaying the crimson veins on the back of her hands. The sudden movement jerked her injured hand and she had to stifle a cry of pain before slowly pulling her hands back to her chest. "I asked you to come here to-to tell you of this, to ask for your help, or even to just...just find comfort in your arms. I-I was afraid you would judge me. And now you do...

"I would never have let this so consume me that I would hurt you, Keating. I wouldn't!"


Cassandra said the last in a sharp whisper. She meant every word; she hoped Keating would believe her. The man still lingered when she had expected he would have stormed out the door already. Was it a signed that he did believe her? But he had only paused to ask her a question - no, two questions. The second was easy enough for her to answer, for it did not require her to lie about her feeling for him. But the first...

"I...I m-m-murdered a man. In-in his most vulnerable moment," was all she admitted. She hoped Keating would ask nothing further so that she would not have to admit that it was a lover of hers that she had killed. Speaking quickly to answer his second question, Cassandra did not give Keating a chance to mull over her omission. "I...I care for you, Keating. Since the first day we met. Past all your flaws, your-your love for the drink, I thought I saw something different in you. Something most of the people here do not have. And I...I wanted to hold on to that. I thought you had... you have a good heart.

"Was I wrong?"


It was the perfect womanly ploy. It was true that Cassandra meant every word she said to him, but she had also structured her words and fashioned her tone so that any attention he might have on anything she did not say would be deflected to what she did say. It may seem manipulative, but she did not want him inquiring further about her very first murder. She cared about Keating too much to want to hurt him with the truth.
Last edited by Cassandra Coven on May 8th, 2011, 12:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
there is something
i have to say to you
if you promise you'll understand
i cannot contain myself
when in your presence
i'm so humble
touch me
don't hide our love
woman to man

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Cassandra Coven
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Posts: 235
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Joined roleplay: June 24th, 2010, 8:21 am
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Confessions (Keating)

Postby Keating Ash on May 7th, 2011, 10:52 pm

Keating eyed the offered hand suspiciously. He needed more drink to calm himself; it was the only balm that could ever temper his rage. The anger was palpable in the small room. He didn’t want to believe he was the only man Cassandra had been with, but Bala help him, he did. And though he tried to deny it, his ego responded, for even if she was not the only woman for him, he understood that women liked to attach themselves to one man. Always they wanted more, either in acknowledgement or commitment. Except Rose. She was different.

The barmaid’s tears flowed like waterworks, and she attacked him with his flaws. His drinking… His heart. What would she know of what he and Rose had shared? Nothing! Nothing! But Keating was not a woman, and he would not speak of his heartache to others, not even to the barmaid. He would not! It was too much, for even now, Rose refused to see him. It tore him apart after all the years spent looking for his lost sister. She refused! Cassandra’s words struck a nerve and the ever present angers that simmered always on the edge of his being exploded outward as he suddenly grabbed an old chair in the room, and flung it madly against a wall. The brittle wood shattered, clattering loudly as it broke into flying pieces about them. Keating turned slowly, his past pain mingling with Cassandra’s confessions. His large hands came up to each side of his head, as if he would squeeze it until there was nothing left, “Gods woman! You pulled a dagger on me! And now… now that I know this? How am I to trust you? It is your god after all, how can you not do it?” But still he remained, his presence filling the room, his expression frightening. It was risky to deny a god, and though he was not a good man, needless loss of life didn’t sit well with him.

His gaze took in her tears, and he said with a suddenly strange, and terrifying calm, “If you have drink here, pour it now, Cassandra.” His chest rose and fell, as he battled his own demons within. One thing was clear. Women were going to be the death of him! His hands shook, though in his distracted state, he missed her avoidance of his question. But he said, “You would not try again…” as if he needed to hear the words again, as if one time spoken was not enough. “And if you are compelled? What then?” Keating said, not understanding how her gnosis worked. The man was in a dark place. There was no softness in his tone, and the words were lowly spoken. “I will make this very easy for you…” His large hands ripped open the faded work-shirt he wore, tearing the fabric in his impatience and baring his chest to her. Walking steadily towards her, he said, “Where’s the dagger? …I know it’s on you!” And he grabbed Cassandra roughly, turning her in his hands as he ruffled through her skirts, until he found the weapon.

He fought her little hands, even touching her cursed veins as he forced them to hold the dagger hilt and pressed the sharp point against his bare chest at heart level. Holding the dagger and her hands tightly, he whispered, in his dark, compelling voice, “Do it Cassandra… push it in.” Keating held himself in little regard. “I am not a good man. You know this! I’m not different, I’m like every other man out there. Maybe worse.” His breath touched her cheek, his face so close, their bodies pressed intimately together in the forced closeness, “Don’t kid yourself Little Mouse, I am no good for anyone, and I’m not going to change. You were right at the first... I don’t have a heart.” And he forced her to press the tip further into his skin, and blood seeped from the pressure of it, but he did not flinch from it. And his hands did not let go.
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Confessions (Keating)

Postby Cassandra Coven on May 8th, 2011, 1:07 am

Her words seemed only to confuse his drink-addled mind. Cassandra could see it in his eyes. Or made him angrier. Sometimes, it was one and the same. Keating came off to her as the type who wanted things clear cut, who saw everything in black and white, and anything he did not understand upset him. Cassandra's mark now revealed to him seemed to be one of these things. And when Keating was upset, he let his emotions run its course, never holding back, to Cassandra's dismay.

The unchecked rage and violence of the man as broke the chair frightened the dark-haired woman, cowering away from him and shielding herself when he first lifted the wooden furniture, thinking that he would hit her with it. She should have been glad that he did not, flinging it across the room instead, but the small shrapnels that exploded from it as it broke apart still stung her. Cassandra now feared she would not be able to calm him down.

"It...it was a moment of weakness, Keating!" she tried to explain. Should she tell him now about her past, how abused she was when she was younger that she had feared the touch of a lover on her skin? How would she even begin to make him understand that? Physical contact should be one shared in intimacy, giving lovers a sense of closeness and, naturally, pleasure - not dread and desperation as she had initially felt. Keating should be glad; Cassandra had worked hard to overcome such things just to be with him, so he could...enjoy her. "Please, listen to me! I have my demons too..."

Keating did not listen, however. Instead he sought succor in what he understood - his drink. But Cassandra did not have any in her home, the most potent she had available was just water, a fact she regretted when she realized she should have foreseen the need to have such things at hand when she had taken up with a man who had a strong affinity for them. She was about to tell him that she could run across the plaza to get some from the tavern, but Keating's eyes suddenly took on a strange look, stopping her before the words passed her lips. He came at her, demanding for the dagger he knew she always kept on her person.

Cassandra tried to fight him off, to push him away, for the expression he wore both worried and frightened her. But such a thing was hard to do, even if she had the strength to match his, which she did not. Her sprained wrist hurt with every small effort she did to deflect his burly arms away, and she never could escape him once he had his hands on her. Keating patted her down ungently, his probing hands uncaring as he tore through her threadbare clothes to find the blade hidden beneath the folds of her skirt.


"Keating, stop! Wha...what are you...?" It dawned to Cassandra what the man had in mind even before he grasped her hands into his so that they held the weapon together, and he pressed its sharp point to his chest. He ordered her to stab him, the craziest notion Cassandra had ever heard him speak, even as he forced the dagger to bite into his skin. "What are you doing?!"

It was the first time she had struck out in anger. Pulling free the hand that Keating was not holding tightly, Cassandra threw it up at his face, giving his stubble studded cheek a resounding slap. The dark haired woman immediately doubled over as she clutched the hand she had used close to her chest. It was the hand she had sprained earlier.

"You're being a child!" she hissed at him through gritted teeth, tears rolling down her eyes once more, though from physical pain this time and not from emotional turmoil. "She does not compel me, Keating! I am my own person! But it's a terrible burden to bear! I-I must hurt at least one person - every day! - just so I don't feel the pain from the mark! It is the most excruciating pain I have ever felt, and I have experienced many, Keating!

"Does it sound selfish? Yes, it is selfish! But I do not want to feel it. And I want to live! Do you want to see the alternative? Tie me in bed! Then watch me scream like a mad woman as I go through four different stages of torturous sensations, each one more agonizing than the last! On the fourth day, when wounds break open all over my body from the inside, you can watch as I die the most horrible and painful of deaths you can imagine! Would you like that? Would you like that?!"


At the end of her outburst, Cassandra began to cry again, sinking down to the floor as she clutched at her injured wrist. She was breathing with difficulty now, her chest heaving as she sucked in short, hiccuping breaths. Eventually she would calm down enough that only soft sobs could be heard, and even that died down a few minutes later as she regained control of her emotions.

"That slap would be enough to let me live a day free of pain," she said quietly. Her head was bowed now, her face covered by the curls of her thick, dark mane. "Thank you."
there is something
i have to say to you
if you promise you'll understand
i cannot contain myself
when in your presence
i'm so humble
touch me
don't hide our love
woman to man

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Cassandra Coven
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Confessions (Keating)

Postby Keating Ash on May 9th, 2011, 5:54 am

Keating towered over Cassandra as she sat huddled on the floor. His cheek stung from the slap, though he had taken much worse from many, many others. But where the dagger had punctured his skin, the man felt the ache of it. A throbbing sensation resided where the weapon had been, and drops of blood tinged his skin red. He had been stubborn, and he had been slow, but now after the barmaid’s angry words, and painful explanations Keating finally heard. And understood. “No,” he said softly, resigned to the fact he was again in a bad situation because of a woman. “I would not like that...” He imaged the wounds she described, and he had no wish to witness such a thing. It brought back too many unwanted and sorrowful memories, “…not to my pretty Cassandra.”

His tone had changed; her anger had caused him finally to see past himself. And though he had been slow, he knew that the god’s reasonings were beyond him. He also knew that Cassandra was as doomed as he. The fight left his face and Keating knelt beside the barmaid slowly. He could not say, “I’m sorry.” That admission wasn’t in him, but he did say, “Cassandra? Slap me as often as you need to… it will be alright.” His hands gripped a portion of his ruined shirt and tore downward. A strip of fabric now lay in his hand as his muscled torso was exposed, along with its multitude of scars from barroom brawls and fights. Then Keating, in a rare moment of compassion took Cassandra’s injured hand and cradled it between his own and kissed it gently, saying, “Let me wrap your hand Little Mouse.

It would have been a lie to deny that theirs had always been a volatile relationship. But at the end of every conflict, Keating and Cassandra had often made love. And true to form, after the heavy and dark altercation they had just had, Keating felt that same stirring of desire growing within. The fire burned anew…. He willed her to look at him, “Slap me again, if it would help you. I do not fear it,” he said quietly, serious as he had ever been, though the quality of his words had changed, and took on new meaning huddled together intimately as they were upon the floorboards.
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Confessions (Keating)

Postby Cassandra Coven on May 14th, 2011, 10:57 pm

Cassandra had expected him to leave, thinking that his silence was an indication of his growing frustration with her. Perhaps he would decide she was not worth the trouble and call it quits. She dared not look up, knowing her tears would start falling again if she saw the hate in his eyes.

But Keathing surprised her as he knelt beside her, speaking words she knew was as close to an apology as she could get from the proud man. His voice was different now - not exactly kind or gentle, but less harsh than when he had been screaming accusations at her. Taking her sprained hand, the man lifted it up and brought it to his lips, brushing with an affectionate kiss the crimson veins that marked her as a chosen of Krysus, the goddess of murder. Cassandra's initial response to the action was surprise, but her eyes quickly watered once more. It was not tears of pain or sadness that flowed this time however, but ones of joy as she saw acceptance in Keating's expression. With her free hand, Cassandra reached up to caress the man's stubbled face, before burying her own in his bare chest, hiding herself as she shed her tears.

Even as she wept, Cassandra could feel Keating working on her injured hand. His calloused fingers, though unpracticed, were gentle as he held her steadily by the wrist, carefully wrapping it with the strip of cloth he had torn off from his shirt. The dark haired woman did not disturb him from his ministrations, not even speaking when he had wrapped a part of the makeshift bandage a little too tightly to cause her slight discomfort. She could feel nothing but love from and for the man.

And perhaps...something else?

It was no secret between them that Keating was a passionate man. Their first meeting had led to his bedchambers after all, and though Cassandra thought she had made it too easy for him to get what he wanted from her, Keating did not make it a one night stand, sticking around to see her after that one encounter. She knew that a great part of their relationship revolved around his enjoyment of what she could give him - and truly, Cassandra did not mind, so taken was she by the man's charm and kindness from their first meeting - but she felt that they had reached a new level of understanding after all that was said and done this night.

And so when Keating drew her gaze back to him once more and Cassandra saw the fires of desire burning within his eyes, she gave in to what she knew should have happened much earlier in the night if they had not fought. Except this time, she felt that their lovemaking would be much sweeter. Unlike their first meeting, when she was suffering from a very delicate injury, Cassandra did not let him lead this time, keeping him down on the floor to let him enjoy the ride as she worked to give him what he desired. She did not hold back to satisfy him, doing this for him she had never done before or had refused to do in their previous love-making sessions. The sounds of their passion echoed throughout the room, both never bothering to stifle the moans of pleasure that escaped their lips. Cassandra did not even pause to consider that her neighbors would be disturbed anew by the noise they made.

They ended up in her bed eventually. Spent from her efforts in giving Keating everything he could ever dream of doing with a woman, Cassandra collapsed on top of him, their naked bodies rubbing against each other as both heaved to catch their breaths. Keating, ever insatiable, still looked like he had a couple of rounds left in him but Cassandra held him down for now by resting her head upon his shoulder. She wanted desperately to profess her love for him but worried that Keating might take it as emotional entrapment from her if she did. She wanted him to come home to her at the end of the day, but she did not know if he felt the same way, even after the moment of closeness they had shared earlier.

Her fingers running small circles around the man's broad chest, playful caresses that she knew would keep him excited, Cassandra whispered instead, "Stay of the night. I want to wake up in the morning with you beside me."
there is something
i have to say to you
if you promise you'll understand
i cannot contain myself
when in your presence
i'm so humble
touch me
don't hide our love
woman to man

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Cassandra Coven
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Posts: 235
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Confessions (Keating)

Postby Keating Ash on May 17th, 2011, 2:26 pm

Normally after their lovemaking, Keating left. Or he would fall into a loud, snoring slumber, and upon waking he would leave. But this time he was not sated, even after Cassandra had pleased him so greatly, he was hungry for more. Never a man to analyze or categorize feelings, he gave no thought that the renewed lust within him could be attributed to the woman’s confession. As the pair each worked to catch their breath, Keating stayed characteristically silent. Alone in his thoughts, memories of Rose lifted to the surface. The remembrances were soon followed by sleepy comparisons of Cassandra and Rose. His breath was heavy, and his body satisfied as the two dark haired women floated in his mind’s eye.

The barmaid’s fingers circled his chest, the touch brought him back from his musings, and Cassandra in her bed. A wolfish smile crossed his features as he listened to her request. He nodded once, “I will stay, but there will be little sleep this night…” His strong arm brought her closer to his naked torso, the thin sheet lightly draped over their bodies. Pressed against him, Keating held her close as his tanned hand moved along the soft skin of her back, and his roughly textured fingers played along Cassandra’s curves, to squeeze at her bottom. He had allowed her the upper hand earlier, and even let her lead in the lovemaking, but while he appreciated her ministrations, he could no longer hold back. Smoothly he rolled over, his weight pinned her to the small bed. Keating doubted she would mind, and his eyes filled with a burning fire as he said, “It’s my turn now…” in a tone that was teasing, but for the weight of the words. One hand came up to cradle the side of her head fingers entwined in her tangled and sweaty hair. And he pressed his lips to hers, tasting her salty mouth. And he began to show her through his touch and through his actions what made him so much more a man than the young ones that often circled around her at the Silver Sliver.

His lips grew rough upon her, covering her skin and her most tender of places, while his hand lowered to run along her side and across her hip, the delicate bones leading onward and downward. Cassandra was his in this moment, and he would take her again and please her, satisfying himself in the process. The touches were brutal and unforgiving, yet somehow tender as well. It was an offering of himself, his body, his need. It was also an acknowledgement of who he was within, though he would have scoffed at the thought of it. The girl’s responses only drove him harder and faster as they joined once more, their cries of passion lifting to the ceiling. The man knew the woman’s body, and he played it as an instrument, forcing the sweetest of sounds from her lips. Keating would make her cry with want and need, and he would satisfy both before the night was through.
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Confessions (Keating)

Postby Cassandra Coven on May 22nd, 2011, 2:14 pm

Keating's appetite for more did not really surprise her, so when the man flipped her on her back, Cassandra could only smile weakly as he had his way with her once more. It was not long before the bed frame was shaking from their throes of passion and the room filled with the noise of their exertions. The large man played her like a musician lost in his music, starting slow as he strummed her strings, knowing that she was quick and easy to please, but continually worked his magic into a crescendo for a finale that was explosive in its intensity.

Cassandra, already exhausted from their first bout, could do nothing but clutch at Keating's broad shoulders as waves of pleasure assaulted her senses, leaving parallel red lines across the man's back because of her long nails. At the conclusion of it, she was left in a quivering heap, not even aware that she was uttering mew-like sounds as Keating fell on top of her, exhausted just as she was. He had the presence of mind to pull her in a spooning position, so as not to crush her with his muscled frame, before giving into the pull of the bed, his thick arms wrapping her in a tired embrace. Cassandra could feel the beat of his slowing down to its regular pace as her back pressed against his chest. The two of them lay on top of the covers, neither one moving, their bare bodies being cooled by the night air blowing in from the opened windows.

"What do do you think I should do about my mark?" Cassandra asked after some time. "I...I don't want to keep hurting others because of it. I don't want to use it as an excuse to hurt you either, Keating. I don't want to hurt you..."

Keating's breath on the back of her neck was steady and measured. She was not sure if he was still listening to her or if sleep had claimed him.

"Keating...?"
there is something
i have to say to you
if you promise you'll understand
i cannot contain myself
when in your presence
i'm so humble
touch me
don't hide our love
woman to man

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Cassandra Coven
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Posts: 235
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Confessions (Keating)

Postby Keating Ash on May 23rd, 2011, 4:44 pm

Keating’s physical endeavors finally caught up with him; he was exhausted from both the physical and emotional strains of the evening. As he lay comfortably in the bed, the sound of Cassandra’s voice was pleasing and only served to sooth him further. The man really wasn’t listening to her words. In his mind it was enough to throw his great arm over her small waist and hold her close. Bala’s mark was prominent on his arm, as it hung draped over her. The man saw little need for small talk, even though he tried to focus his sleepy mind for a chime or two.

Finally his breath evened out, and his often troubled mind was at peace for a thankful space of time. He was content and Cassandra’s words seemed to whisper from afar, something about her mark… Keating was fading fast, and he only half heard, half listened, but nothing registered fully. He answered a sleepy, “Uh huh…”

The man drifted, already closer to sleep than not, and his voice distant said sleepily, “Go ‘head Cassie… can’t hurt me…” Then he paused for what seemed a long while. Was he sleeping? But he mumbled, “Whore house... always go there… they’d love you…” and he fell silent, only to erupt a moment later in a rumbling low snore. Keating’s face appeared softer in sleep, as if this was truly the man he was destined to be, instead of the morose, man he had become… if the world had only been kinder to him.
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Confessions (Keating)

Postby Cassandra Coven on May 24th, 2011, 3:39 pm

He was asleep, or was about... the soft snoring that emerged from the man clued Cassandra that he had indeed fallen asleep already. The dark-haired woman could only shake her head, quite acquainted with Keating's habit of dozing off once he's had his way with her. She did not mind, not really. In truth, it was an improvement that he actually gave her an answer, however broken, before he faded off into unconsciousness. Most times, when he stayed, Keating would just turn over and be fast asleep before he has even completely faced the other way.

But...the brothel? Cassandra wondered, unsure if the man was serious. The House of Immortal Pleasures?

She did not know whether to feel slighted by the suggestion for her to take up whoring or not. Did they not just fight over such comments earlier? Cassandra was not a woman easy to anger, however, and she chose not to take Keating's words as an insult, opting instead to consider what the man meant with what he had said. How can working in such a place help her deal with the painful consequences of her divinity-given mark? Did clients of that place enjoy pain, as well as pleasure? The few times she passed by that establishment, she recalled seeing women clad in leathers, wielding whips and wearing cold, almost cruel smiles - was that what those women did? Unless some clients were murdered by those courtesans as they were being serviced - a horrible thought! - Cassandra doubted it would do her much good. And truly, she would rather not draw a blade on another soul, even to save herself... from pain?

The woman paused at the thought, suddenly remembering the sweet feeling of being released from the torturous sensation of having her body wracked by the wounds inflicted by her gnosis mark and she wondered... did she truly mean her earlier thought? She shifted in Keating's embrace, turning to regard at the moonlight-bathed face of her lover, his usually scowling visage smooth and free of worry lines, his peaceful expression almost kind, tender. Cassandra craned her neck up, caressing with her soft lips the man's stubble-framed ones. She would not hurt this man, at least. Even if she had to endure the same torturous wounds once more.

As she herself succumbed to the irresistible pull of slumber, Cassandra's last thought was to ask herself if she could truly keep such a promise.

She had to.



-fin-
there is something
i have to say to you
if you promise you'll understand
i cannot contain myself
when in your presence
i'm so humble
touch me
don't hide our love
woman to man

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Cassandra Coven
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Posts: 235
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Joined roleplay: June 24th, 2010, 8:21 am
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Confessions (Keating)

Postby Verilian on June 2nd, 2011, 1:05 am

Image


Cassandra Coven

  • +2 Persuasion
  • +2 Seduction
  • +2 Rehetoric
  • +1 Begging
  • +2 Brawling
  • +1 Body Building

Lores: Haunted by Dreams of the Past, Giving in to Addiction, Being Spanked with a Belt, Confessions, Making a Promise to Oneself

Keating Ash

  • +2 Interrogation
  • +2 Seduction
  • +1 Intimidation
  • +2 Brawling
  • +1 Medicine
  • +1 Body Building

Lores: Treating Cassandra like a Whore, Spanking Cassandra with a Belt, Lore of Vexation (Basic)

You Question My Logic? :
Okay, I gave out a lot of different XPs here and I don't feel like explaining them all. However, in case you are wondering, the Body Building was for the "work out" at the end of the thread. Yes.. you got xp for sex.




Notes: I really enjoyed this thread. Always look forward to seeing what you'll come up with next. ^^
Forecast for tonight... Dark
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