Mentioned: Demonica, Darkstar
Appearances By: Demonica


What’s The Difference Between A Catfish And A Lawyer?
One’s A Scum-Sucking Bottom-Feeder And The Other Is A Catfish


“Don’t Tread On Me” by Metallica (midi)


The museum-like office was spacious, giving a very ominous air to it. The walls were off-white, all wood furniture varnished so it looked nearly black. Like most of the lawyer shows I watched, behind his desk were large bookcases that were a few feet shy of the ceiling. They were filled with books, from an inch to a hefty four inches thick. The large chair on the other side of the desk was empty, but dented where my lawyer must have constantly sat in the same position for hours on end. What a boring job.

The door behind me opened. Instinctively, I looked back, about ready to pick up the chair and fling it at the door if need be. In came my lawyer, dragging a television set with a VCR on a wheeled-cart into the room. I leaned over the edge of my chair, digging through my duffle bag and grasping the video cassette. In a day and age of DVDs and touch-screen interaction, a video cassette was probably an oddity. I placed it on his desk and sat back, popping a piece of gum into my mouth, chewing it silently.

My lawyer was scrawny with no muscle mass whatsoever. He probably was a kid that got beat up in school often. He had a boney nose, bumped at the bridge as if it had been broken. His pale blue eyes were sunken into his skull, hidden behind bottle top glasses. He had a very aquiline nose that kind of reminded me of Witchy-Poo. Hell, even his skin tone reminded me of the ‘evil witches’: an olive undertone that was more prominent than the beige colour that most people had. The tone was accentuated by his green attire; an olive-green suit, an emerald-coloured tie and a white dress shirt, along with the classic shiny, black loafers that most business men wore.

Without a word to me, he took the cassette and slid it into the VCR after closing the door. He shut the blinds before pressing play. Calmly, I sat back in my chair, silently watching the screen. The television hissed with static before the video started, the camera shaky.

Demonica circled around the girl. I had the girl perched on my lap and rather roughly, stroked her hair. The girl seemed to enjoy it well enough. Demonica's nails ran across the girl's cheek, every so often digging them into her. The girl's face contorted in pain each time, but still, she smiled and looked at us both with wide eyes filled with anticipation.

“What should we do with her? She is your present after all.” Demonica said, stopping the stroking to Miss Fern’s cheek. Demmy grabbed the girl roughly by the chin while examining her as if she were cattle. I laughed, running my nails down the back of her girl's neck, then down her spine. The girl cooed a bit, shifting slightly on my lap. I watched as Demonica nearly rips the girl's jaw off, unable to hold back a chuckle.

“U.A.D.” I said, using my made-up acronym: Use, Abuse and Dump. I smirked a bit when the girl looked at me confused. Demonica had heard me use the term before in our conversations. Demonica laughed both in and out of the video. Hastily, she lets go of the girl's chin.

“I quite agree.” Demmy replied. The girl looked back and forth between we psychopaths. Still a smile rests on the girls’ face.

“Don't worry I know you'll enjoy this, little one.” I purred softly. The girl continued looking back and forth between the two of us. With a hard smack to her face from Demonica, the girl's attention returned to her.

“Look at me when I'm talking to you bitch!” Immediately the girl focused on Demonica who seems annoyed with her already. I just sat back and smiled, enjoying the scene playing out in front of me. My nails raked down the girl’s back again, no doubt causing little red lines to develop upon her back beneath her clothes.

“Do you submit to us, Pet? Willingly: of sound mind and body?” I cooed into her ear. Demonica paced back and forth, watching me.

We had our own ways of making submissive. She was violent while I was seductive. Depending on if we found a masochist or not, her way usually won out over my own. Miss Fern was a different story. She liked the seduction, the game I played with her. I coiled my fingers around the pack of cigarettes in my trench coat pocket and drew one out, much to the dismay of my lawyer. However, with one stern look, he pulled out an ashtray that was filled with cigar butts for his big-wig clients and pushed it across the desk for me. I returned my attention back to the cassette.

“Yes, mind and body.” She murmured submissively. She settled into my lap, as though I would protect her, though I assure you I would not. I buried my face into her throat, nibbling softly along her shoulder as Demonica raked her nails down Francine’s face. She squeaked softly and pushed back into my lap, though that smile remained. My hands slid around her waist, nails digging into her belly, feeling her soft stomach conform to my fingertips.

“Coddling her will make her weak, Gwenivere…” Demmy warned, slapping the girl across the face again where she had raked her nails. I smiled, purring contently.

“Too late...” I hissed, nails digging in harder to her belly. She groaned upon my lap, bowing forward, one hand slipping behind my head to hold the back of my neck. I felt blood begin to ooze along my fingers, dripping off my knuckles and onto Miss Fern’s pants. I growled softly into her ear, before biting down on it. Francine moaned, her dull, painted-black nails digging into the back of my neck. Demonica turned away, drawing out a blade from her purse, the same double-edged one that she had pulled at the strip club.

I watched Demonica return to Francine and myself, slowly straddling both of our laps, putting more weight upon me. I adjusted my legs on the floor in order to support them both as Demonica leaned forward, pressing the flat side of the blade against Francine’s cheek; the cool metal pressed against scratches and handprints. Demmy looked passed me over the girl’s shoulder, that same sadistic smirk I had on my face reflected in hers.

“Next step…” She purred softly. I nodded slowly.

The camera cut out briefly. My lawyer shifted slightly to turn it off. I waved my hand, telling him to stay. The video feed returned again, shakier than the last time.

The scene zooms in on Francine Fern, lying on the floor, nude. Demmy was huddled between her thighs, the hilt of her blade clutched in steady fingers. I was nowhere in sight, because I was manning the camera. I moved around Demmy slowly, smirking.

“Go for it.” I said. Demmy winked at me once, brushing her tongue across her top lip before returning her attention to Miss Fern. Slowly, the blade was caressed along her left breast, drawing down along the middle of her ribcage and past her navel, leaving a very dull red mark. As the blade moved down past her waistline, Francine looked up to me, at the camera, eyes wide, still thinking I was her protector. Poor girl. Slowly, the blade descended further down against her sex, brushing along her nether lips. She squeaked a bit, worry coming to her eyes. I laughed a bit, shaking my head behind the camera. Demonica went back on her knees, tossing the knife and catching the blade in her hands, cutting her flesh.

“Come now. You thought I was that cruel, didn’t you?” Demonica said, immediately sliding the hilt of the blade into Francine’s slit. Francine groaned, wiggling about on the floor. Demonica chuckled, beginning to thrust the hilt slowly in and out of her. Already, the pleasured noises from Francine were becoming annoying.

I put the camera onto the tripod and moved to the lockers within my dressing room. I opened one and pulled out a crowbar. I curled my hands around the cool weight before moving back to the moaning bitch on the floor. Demonica watched me, smirking fully. I stood at her head, pressing the end of the crowbar on the ground beside the whore’s head. I gazed down at her.

“You may not be, Demmy-Darling… but I am.” I purred softly, curling my hands around the end of the crowbar. I leaned over, moving it back and forth on one side of her head, as if I were setting up for a tee-off. She winced and tried to move but Demmy had her knees pressed into the girl’s thighs, preventing her from moving. I went for the wind-up, lifting the crowbar above my head before bringing it down. The girl screamed. There was no connection: no metal to skin and bone. I stopped short of her head, brushing the hook of the crowbar up along her cheek, smirking fully. I brushed the metal against her lips, seeing her shiver as her skin developed gooseflesh. On the other hand, Demonica was moving the blade back and forth still, pushing it in further until it was all the way in, the base of the blade slightly brushing against her nether lips.

“Suck…” I ordered sternly, keeping the metal pressed against her lips. Cautiously, her lips parted, taking the hook into her mouth. I forced it in a bit further, feeling the sharp points gently rake across the roof of her mouth and along her teeth. It sent a shiver down my spine. Demonica cooed tenderly, fucking her harder with the hilt. Slowly, the girl began to suck upon the crowbar.

The video cut out again. Once again, the jittery lawyer moved to turn it off, and once more, I waved my hand. I tapped my cigarette over the tray, silently wishing I had popcorn here. That would be the highlight of my day. First I have to be in a stuffy lawyer’s office for God knows how many hours, then be interrogated for the lacking attendance of my partner in crime, and then have to sit through my video. Even though I had been involved and had watched it everyday since, I was beginning to grow bored. The video flashed and began again.

I was behind the camera again. A very sweaty Francine lay on her stomach on the floor. We hadn’t allowed her to sit on the couch. Demonica had grown bored with the crowbar and knife. So, I had settled myself behind the camera to watch the scenes before me. Demonica had ripped a towel rack off of wall in the bathroom and now circled around Francine, dragging the edge of the towel rack along her sides, the screws that had kept it into the wall raking against her skin slowly.

“Do you want it?” She asked; her voice breathy. Francine shivered against the thin aluminum pole.

“Please, beat me. I want it. Please.” She said, her voice quaking with desire. I smirked a bit, nodding once to Demmy. She lifted the pole above her head, focusing in on the girl’s rear. The pole was brought down and slapped across her cheeks, reddening them instantly. Francine groaned, arching her back and digging her dull nails into the floor. I smiled faintly. The pole was brought down again, this time across the small of her back. She winced and gasped for breath, but continued to plead for more. Demonica stood over her now, feet on either side of Francine’s hips. She brought the bar down against the back of her head, causing Francine to black out momentarily.

“More?” Demonica asked, words coming in pants. The girl nodded, moaning a yes though her voice was squeaky and weak. I smiled faintly. Demonica began to bring the bar down on the girl’s head repetitively, until there was blood staining the carpet of my locker room. I smirked a bit, putting the camera on the tripod and gently touching Demonica’s back. She stopped, dropping the bar to the ground. Francine rolled over, her face showing that she was in completely bliss.

“No more, cheri. Let’s keep her alive, oui?” I said. Demonica moved in and slapped the pole across her shoulder again. I winced a bit, grabbing her arm and tugging her away. “Demonica… stop.” I said sternly, staring her straight in the eye. She stared at me, and it almost seemed like it wasn’t really my friend looking at me anymore. Instinctively, I grabbed the bar, wrenching it from Demonica’s hand. How I did is still a mystery to me for Demonica is a lot bigger than I. I coiled my hand around her arm harder. “No.” I said firmly, staring into her eyes.

“Back off, Gwen…” She hissed at me. I glanced down to Francine, tossing my head to the side to tell her to get lost. She gathered up her clothes and moved away. Demonica started to go after her, I managed to stop her. The camera shut off.

Francine had turned off the camera. I had remembered how hard I had fought not to just deck Demonica. Instead, I reasoned with her. I told her how Darkstar wouldn’t enjoy what she was doing. I think that snapped some sense into her. She had stopped struggling against me. I had taken her down to sit on the couch, telling Francine to get lost. Other than that, it had been a good night. My lawyer turned off the video, turning in his chair to look at me. I raised my brow, drawing from my cigarette slowly.

“What?” I inquired, butting out the cigarette in the tray he had offered me. I had even thought about lighting another, just to spite him. He looked at me cynically, condescendingly. I smirked a bit, staring him back calmly.

“To be perfectly honest, Miss Jordan, though I hate to admit it, Miss Fern doesn’t have a case against you.”

“And why do you hate to admit it?” I asked, slowly rising to my feet and circling around his desk, leaning against the back of his chair. He tilted his head back to look up at me.

“Because both you and Miss Macon are sick and utterly twisted.” I laughed at his remark, turning his chair around. My fingers curled around the arms of his chair, my face lowering to gaze right into his. He was scared, I could see it in his eyes.

“You know you love it. I watched how you reacted to the video. You wish you had been there and joining in. Hell, I don’t blame you,” I smiled faintly. “Were I a man, watching three women doing that, I’d want to join in, too.” I said monotonously, leaning into his face a bit more. He stared at me, lips parted slightly. He wasn’t getting what he thought. I leaned forward and bit down hard on his cheek, though no hard enough to break the skin and cause him to bleed. He would just hurt for a while. I turned around, moving towards the door, licking my lips.

“I’m sure you will discuss a case of wrongful accusation and deprivation of character with the prosecution for myself and Miss Macon.” I said, before turning away and walking out the office door, no doubt gathering a few odd looks from the lawyer’s secretaries. After all, the volume had been pretty high.


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