Mac (_queen_bee_) wrote in 4bidden, @ 2015-05-01 23:57:00 |
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Current mood: | bored |
WHO: Mac and Elijah
WHEN: Week 18, Monday night
WHERE: A bar in Jannati City
WHAT: Playing pool, hustling pool players, chatting, and whatever else happens...
RATING: TBD, however, Mac likes to cuss, so beware of that, at least
STATUS: Closed/In-Progress
Mac was at it again- hustling a poor human out of his money during a game of pool, but this time at a different bar. Hopefully this guy wouldn't start a fight. Mac was running out of bars to go to. As it was, this one was a bit nicer than the shady dive bars she'd visited in the past. It looked like a place that big business men went to when their 9-5 jobs were over. But it was a place Castor wouldn't think to look for her. He wasn't exactly happy with her over the last time she went out and beat someone at pool. He fucking lectured her about how leading the police to him was a bad thing, and then fucking reminded her that she was a slave and he was her master. What a cunt-bag! She felt betrayed by his comments and slapped him hard across his face. This lead to a small fight which turned into some hot angry sex in which Mac almost set fire to his bed, literally. Castor will probably always check her pockets for lighters before they hook up in the future, which he probably should have been doing from the start, though Mac never intended to hurt him with the lighter. She just liked fire. And knives, though she didn't have any on her that night, or else she would have used those.
Truth was, Mac was getting antsy being a slave. She had no one to command, no one to threaten, no one to keep tabs on. Her hands hadn't caused any damage in weeks, except the occasional broken item in the apartment, and light fighting with Castor. The acting out the past week was because she was literally itching for a fight, for something to do, some semblance of her former life. Mostly, she was looking for that familiar getaway from her nightmares. Carmen had returned to her sleep this past week, and it was everything Mac could do to hide this weakness from her friend, her master.
So she was out again, at a bar, not exactly fitting in either. Most people wore some kind of business suit, or other nice, work attire in that bar. Mac was wearing a tight black shirt that exposed her stomach when she moved a certain way, form-fitting jeans, knee high black boots, leather jacket, and red lipstick. As per the law, and Castor's request, she wore a choker with his lion mark on it, the garment covering her throat and making it unmistakable to whom she belonged to. At least it wasn't a damn brand, that alone had her grateful enough to actually wear the damn thing in public.
She set up her last shot, but purposely missed it so she didn't seem like she knew exactly what she was doing. The guy she was playing with grinned, thinking he was going to win. Walking around to the other side of the pool table, but directly across from her opponent, Mac's hand came up to trail the edge of the deep cut 'V' of her shirt. She paid no mind to the man trying to take his shot, though she knew exactly what she was doing to his concentration, her hand continuing along her shirt, 'smoothing out' the edge that was against her breasts, before stretching her arms and lifting her shirt a bit.
When he inevitably missed his shot, Mac looked back up and smiled innocently. Playing coy, Mac sauntered up to the man and pressed herself against him, her hand slipping around his pool stick before pulling away from him to take her final shot. Leaning suggestively over the pool table, Mac gave a small giggle. "I hope I'm doing this right?" she asked.
The man cleared his throat before answering, "You're doing fine. Just line up the stick with the hole." Mac laughed lightly at the innuendo. Nope, this guy will never realize he got played until she plays innocent slave that has to get home right away, instead of staying and having sex with him. Fuck, she missed head games! Expertly, Mac took her shot, winning the game. She jumped up and down, know exactly what her boobs were doing in that top. "Yay! That means I win, right?"
The guy shook his head in agreement, eyes glued to her chest as he handed over his money. "Get me a drink. And then, play again? I think I just had beginner's luck." The man gave a nod and a wink before going to going to the bar. "What a fucking sucker," she gloated under her breath as she waited on her whiskey.