Taylor Kane
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An Englishman in New York...
Posts: 28
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Post by Taylor Kane on May 11, 2013 17:42:56 GMT -5
Taylor: At least Taylor Kane had the time to bust his nut in the whore that he paid $500 for, since she was exotic--a gorgeous piece of Thai arm candy that was nubile enough to not be considered a child, and her friend--who turned out to have a penis instead of a cunt. What a shock to the system. When he came, his cock was buried to the hilt in ...in Somchai. That was the name he'd been given on the phone at least by her pimp. At some point, as Taylor waited in the hotel room for the pair to show up, at least the thought of having some chai tea had crossed his twisted mind. Apparently while in the act of coitus when he was atop the woman, another had slipped into the ritzy suite. Taylor might have heard the click of heels on the marble floor, but shrugged it off to the girl with a penis who got her feelings hurt when he wasn't copasetic in being close to a herm. He was deep into the throes of passion, his dark head tossed back as his toes curling up as his balls emptied their seed. Then BAM! It happened. There was the poofing noise, and his half slitted eyes opened up to reveal their chocolate goodness, and his head turned just in time to see the woman, over a sweat covered brow arching with the pain of the dart that had been driven by air pressure into the globe of muscled ass. There was a howl of displeasure, shock and then his world got all blurry and shit. He lost consciousness quickly, from the orgasm-driven blood in his heart pumping it through his system faster than Taylor could compensate for. Two hours had passed and the young Brit had awoken to the smell of alcohol and clean linen. His eyes fluttered open with a husky groan that was sort of echoing in the room he was in. He knew he had been having fun once, but this wasn't any fun. This fucking felt like he'd been run through with a shard of metal. He had a hellacious headache, like he had a hangover, and felt a little nauseated when he came to and lifted his head up and the room began to spin. "Whaaaa... da..bloody...fuu. Where am I?"
Dr. Jaq:-= Jaq had unique talents and an IQ that was rumored to be at or over 200, which set her apart from everyone from the beginning. The deviant devil-doctor had prepared herself to find him cock-deep in some whore, but she also knew there was no way to really prepare for what she'd never seen. Him specifically, fucking one of his trollops. When she arrived she did so with two suits who looked every bit the paid security they were, not that they knew what they were there for exactly. Like the harbinger of death she was, the Nationless woman powered her serpentine seduction toward his room in black pumps, a pencil skirt complete with black wide band suspenders and a white button up blouse half hidden under the sharp but tightly tailored cut of her blazer. People moved like there was a force field around her cool nonchalance and with just as much apparent ease she halted the men outside the door and let herself in. Watching his lean yet clearly masculine frame, barreling into the babe under him, was a lot more stunning than she let cross her face. Cold and direct muddy green eyes locked on him as she pulled the gun from under her skirt-- through the back slit because it was way easier. The herm was a shock all it's own she barely let hit her forward thought, but the seize of his body as he came inside his harlot was the cause for her squeezing the trigger before she could say anything to anyone. She had intended to at least tell the girls to get out but the whole room was thick with it and the tension had to go somewhere. Bleached blond hair pulled back tight into a bun helped expose those hard fine feminine lines of her face and the sharp angle of her brows which were set down like instant damnation as her gaze flicked between the yelping shocked women, and Jaq used that term loosely in her mind even. =- Out, collect your inconvenience fee with the men on the other side of the door or regret sticking around. -= There was no humor in those smokey vocals and they were gone before Jaq had time to find all his clothes. The two men were charged with collecting his body, in the sheets, she kept his clothes separate since she was going to be performing on him anyway. They went out the back and once at the clinic, her suits were relieved of their duty. Yes, that meant organ donors but she stored them for the time being, alive. Organs had to be fresh. It was a fairly simple procedure for the prodigy, and she'd had one of the exam rooms pre-prepped for it. She used a dolly, literally buckling his body and wheeling him around, moved him to a room in Sub Level 2 of her clinic. A sound proof room beside the other men who'd later be harvested, not that he could hear them. Just the soft classical music playing like a whisper in the background from unseen speakers. The lighting wasn't ultra bright, it was soft but very white which brought out the paleness of her skin in contrast to the dark stain of her lips and black-lined eyes. She was still wearing the suit he'd seen her in, and against the concrete slab walls the obsidian cut of skirt and buttoned blazer were stark. She'd spent the last few moments before he woke, dressing him. Frankly she wasn't going to address him with his cock in a free-swing. She watched him from a relaxed but somehow still silently powered stand a foot away from the door which didn't have an apparent handle in the inside and had a thick glass window the full length of it, which only offered the view of more concrete, a narrow hallway. When he stirred she pulled her hands out of the pockets on the front of the jacket and let them rest at her sides. Leveling her chin with the floor and putting her game face on. Unplugging her emotional center-- or at least delaying that impulse connection by cold will and listening as his groggy voice dryly questioned where he was. =- There's a water fountain beside the bed your laying on. The spinning should subside in the next few minutes ... as for where you are, my lab. -= She was factual and direct alright, and maybe it was the husky blues tone of her voice but it wasn't quite as iced as her gaze and the subtle analytical tension in her face. The best he lay on, slowly rising and trying to get his bearings within the eight-by-eight cell, was just far enough from where she stood he'd have had to use effort to cross the distance, and she knew she had time to tell him the terms before he'd likely feel up for that. And she did, as promptly as possible because in her own twisted way she believed in education and choices. She ever so lightly clasped her hands in front of her, and spoke with just enough vocal inflection to make it hard for his brain to drown her voice out as white noise. =- You feel like shit because I implanted that device you made me, at the top of your spine. I want you to know, I had modifications made on it to ensure you can't tamper with it without killing yourself. It's also connected on a deadmans switch, that deadmans switch is connected to me. I die, you die. .... There's also a remote trigger, and I'm not going to tell you what it is because it shouldn't matter. You try to retaliate against me in any way, I'll kill you without hesitation. I need an assistant, and you meet the criteria. You have two options, accept the job, or I kill you and count my losses. -= Elaborate, to just kill him? If Jaq was bluffing, she was a damn good bluffer. Staring at him as he acquainted himself with the otherwise bare room with only a toilet more to occupy the space with them. Everything, he'd note, was bolted down. She seemed patient, like she was willing to wait as long as it took for him to honestly think about it. Though, she was also taking full advantage of the study of his reactions.
Taylor: Taylor Alexander Kane was a tad bit on the confused side, and had one hell of a case of amnesia from the Vitamin K pumped into his system. His brain was trying to grasp the reality of his being alone in a room with the Nordic Ice Princess, which is what the platinum honey resembled with her hair pulled back in a rather severe looking bun. He was gaining more awareness and feeling less floaty then he had in the beginning of his waking up, and when his mind began to wrap around what the doctor was saying, his patience was growing rather thin and a crooked smile twisted his lips in a semi sneer. He was about to get snarky. "The lab? Pray tell. Why the bloody hell am I he--.." he started to say, before the remainder of what she had to impart was dumped on him like CO2 to a fire. He felt his eyes squint as if he hadn't heard Jaq correctly at first. He mumbled something under his breath, then erupted in a black, intense flood of anger. "Yooou. Fucking. Cunting whore!" he spat back at her as he fought the restraints and God knows that she had to have them on him, because he would have jumped off the fucking table to slam her into the wall of her pretty little laboratory. He contorted and wrestled to free himself, then quickly tired because he still had the effects of the ketamine in his system. He felt like she was studying him like a butterfly in a killing jar, and that didn't set very well with the Englishman. "FUCK!" he shouted angrily. He had never had this occur before, a kink in his plans. Or just someone having gotten very fucking clever, and taking advantage of him in such a way. He lay there, letting the words mix with the laughing voices in his head, ruminating and stewing over his latest predicament. His tongue poked in his cheek, as he gazed at her with the dull reflection of his chocolate-brown orbs. "You must think me mad, right lovie? Fucking a brick short a load?" He turned his head, the medium length of it thick and its tendrils cording at the ends from the sweaty sex he'd been interrupted from. "Fine. I accept the offer." Dull monotone of voice heard from Taylor, without meeting her cold and calculating stare. Dr. Jaq: -= For his sake; chest/shoulders, elbows, wrists, hips, knees, and ankles. Jaq couldn't ensure impulsive reactions wouldn't over power sound judgment initially. And while she would, without hesitation, kill him, the idea of course was to get his willing-- even if by twisted blackmail, assistance. Greens ticked around his body when he jolted in that fit of thoughtless rage. The sort of rage where blood spilled and people screamed but you didn't really see or hear any of it, even though you were the one doing it; at least that was the kind that came to mind when she watched him and listened to the venom lash out of his mouth. She seemed outwardly unaffected other than the flair of her nostrils and obviously controlled calm pace of breathing. Inwardly, it hurt to feel the hate; Jaq loathed being hated. But she sucked it up for the sake of progress and let his vulgarity pull a small smile to her dark sculpted lips. He was uncomfortable, and that was to be expected, only the ignorant or masochistic would have been anything but had they changed places with him; uncomfortable and angry. She watched him tire of the fighting and the single word damnation where a little of that steamed outrage bubbled over. Clearly this wasn't something that usually happened to him and that made her weary. First encounters and rarities meant for unpredictability and higher volatility. Wordlessly she stood the living statue of studious observation, soaking in is every twitch turn and consideration with an appetite for much more. He gazed back at her with his tongue in his cheek and words that could have very well ended in piss off, which widened the soft smile on her lips though she imagined that wasn't the intent. He turned his head and she watched the mess of his hair shift with the inner temptation to cut it all off. Of course that would then take away the fixed grip with which she could yank his head around. Jaq inhaled deeply but slowly as her smile turned a smirk and she listened to his unconvincing acceptance. =- I don't believe you. You can think on it, I'll be back in three hours. -= She turned, listening to any retort he could manage or felt inclined to spit her way before walking out no matter. Jaq left without any more word and she meant what she said about coming back, though she purposefully would make him wait longer, going closer to five hours by the time that door opened again, and as if she never left, the too calm woman stood in silence, watching. He would be more alert now, at least in theory, and even in a detailed overview she seemed dressed the same, still fresh like she'd just put it on, or had barely moved in it. She had of course spent half that time torturing a man and the other half watching Mr. Kane in the room while he was by himself with only the faint classical music that almost seemed to come from the walls, to occupy the silence outside the madness in his mind.
Taylor: Strapped down as he was, it would leave some marks on the wrists and ankles, but Taylor considered it "good foreplay," and he would recover. The 21 year old was definitely operating on his impulse to lash out, and since he could not do it physically, it came out in a blur of angry words before he could stop it. It was not his usual MO to be caught with his pants down, to pardon the pun. It had happened and he had to adjust to that hard fact. To him, it was only words--his hate could spew forth in much more volatile ways. At first doubts niggled at the corners of his mind. Was she telling the truth about the fucking implant? thought Taylor to himself. Although he was tempted to test the theory, it probably wouldn't be in his best interests at all. Jaq's assessment of him would be correct. This kind of thing had never come up to disturb his pattern, his urges or his life. He had always been meticulous, always tied up the loose ends. Particularly with a few deaths he had been involved with. But she would not know of that would she? The thought made him wonder though, but before he could utter another word his head was jerked back around by the inky roots of his hair. There was a gritting of his teeth, and a soft grunt of pain as the pain radiated from the base of his neck to the nerve endings in his scalp. "Huh? What the fuck? I told you-" Taylor blurted out as Jaq walked away from him and left his mind to churn for however long it took for her to return. It was long enough for him to begin to grow anxious. It was the what ifs that made his mind go batty with noise. Noise that was hard to blot out of his consciousness. He felt constricted, diminished within the straps on the table. Until he accepted the fact that he was pretty fucked. He lay still because fighting the tethers was just causing him to become more....like someone who'd gone to the little white house on the corner. He didn't sleep, but he just hummed to himself the entire time the doctor was away. His eyes were like the blank buttons of a Raggedy Andy doll, or the way a great white shark looked when consuming a jawful of flesh and bone. He wasn't even humming to the strains of classical music through the unseen speakers. He was a one man band, somewhere between the there and the here. It wasn't until she had come back, and the shards of light angled from the open door as she stood against it. Quite like a dark umbra.
Dr. Jaq: -= Jaq was a scientist so most everything she did was a test or an experiment on some level. In watching Mr. Kane she came to the very real conclusion she didn't like his eyes. The darkness, the way they looked like sexy ink blots under well formed brows. She didn't like the deadness the most. The blank way he stared and hoped he wouldn't make a habit of looking at her that way; though she countered with the fact she just wouldn't make a habit of paying his eyes much attention. She didn't need the distraction on any level. Now, as they went round two, there was no mercy for her or him under the direct impact of muddy green eyes. He seemed to stop humming, a clear indication of his awareness she'd stepped in, she only paused inside the door this time. Standing long enough to establish he was somewhat calm, or at least pretending. Boldly those simple black pumps over black stockinged feet, carried her to the bed he was laid out on. She sat on the edge of it, near enough he'd feel the weight of her frame, but still just far enough away he couldn't touch her. With his wrists bound above his head, and elbows like wise secured down, and the subsequent shoulders, it kept his torso down. It was why she didn't seem even remotely afraid when she did, crossing one long leg over the other and draping her hands over the crest of her right knee. Her body was turned at a ankle for an easier view up his torso to his face. When she spoke, her words no doubt seemed insanely irrelevant at first. =-When I eat starbursts on rare occasion, I like to only unwrap it one at a time as I eat them, then when I get toward the end and have a few left, I open it all the way, so I can see what flavors I have to choose from. -= She smiled a little, licking her lips and lifting her brows ever so slightly before she continued. You're one of the last starbursts... lovie... so I'll ask you one more time, do you accent the job Mr. Kane? -= She was polite, but not too kind-like when she asked, even if her soft spoken nature was sincere and that undercurrent of care in her tone was based from truth. Jaq canted her head a little, once more surveying him with the sweep of her eyes before they returned up on his face to watch for any expression. Her posture was straight as a board but somehow she managed not to look stiff, it was perhaps the way her shoulder sloped in that casual relaxed lay of her arms. Despite only being five-seven the way she held herself made her look taller, longer, regal and bold enough to have been an editorial model. It was in her eyes where all the damnable life was and they were glued on him with a sharp observation.
Taylor: Not only had he ceased to hum, Taylor had returned from that middle space he'd been to while Jaq stepped out for all this time. The blankness that had been present when he was there, had vanished in the span of a few seconds to his true shade, which was a lot more people friendly, and considered by most women quite sexy. An arch of sable brow was seen as he lie there, this time watching her illuminate the doorway like some kind of lunar eclipse. The time seemed to have given him some time to reflect, which was completely understandable given the unique circumstances. Taylor had indeed weighed the possibilities as well as the outcome if he should in fact go belly up. Jaq finally crossed the great divide between the door and his cot, where he was restrained. He finally connected the tap-tap of the heels to her footsteps. He'd heard them, and with his recall ...well it wasn't really necessary to venture there again. She had sat upon the bed, but he was staring mostly at her legs, how shapely they were, how sexy the stockings were, and those heels. Why was he sweating now? But he was. Not only that, he was getting aroused by her. Her rather odd intonation was heard by him, and he considered her comment rather random at first. But his sharp intellect detected much more to the meaning of the starburst wrapper. His throat felt parched, dry and he swallowed hard the lump that had grown there. His gaze lingered on her legs a second more, then lifted to those muddy greens. He was beginning to already wonder if the cherry was the one chosen. She was alluding to him of course, and he knew that too. His words were reversed upon him by the use of the word 'lovie,' in her commentary. "I am willing to do what you've requested, in the capacity that you need me." said Taylor, with a cultured English accent. He was definitely from Oxford, that much was apparent. He failed to add the word 'lovie,' in retort back, and he didn't call her any vicious names this time either. His response back was lucid and apparently with some careful forethought. "When can I begin?" Dr. Jaq: -= Watching the life return to his features made Jaq realize it was almost like he'd left his body; which of course made her think of some kind of mediation or trance like state. It was as interesting as it was intimidating because the only was Jaq knew how to get a reprieve from the world was in the array of drugs she mixed up to stimulate different parts of her brain which distracted her from the world, or something to put her out entirely. She boxed the thought and filed it like many others like it. Observing the way his eyes took favor of her legs which should have made her uncomfortable but didn't. Jaq was Jaq and he was bound to a bed; he could look. What didn't sit so easily with her, was the fact that there was light evidence of arousal. That wasn't what she needed right now and trying to box the thoughts that came of it was like trying to catch fireflies in season. There was a lot about him she found appealing all of which she was determined to ignore for as long as absolutely possible, there were more important things. She felt better about the whole situation already, noting that even as she sat there was no impulsive reaction or spat commentary. There was a seriousness and a politeness that she found far more appealing, though she wasn't sure if she believed it as honest truth. What she was certain of, truth or lie, he was putting an effort to appear to take it seriously and that was enough for her to move them to the next stage. Releasing him. When she got up, it was in a move of efficiency with grace enough to almost look like a dance. She twisted her hips and dropped her knees to turn herself around, palming the edge of the bed as a support while she turned but never fully stood erect, remaining bent over in a lean as bare finger tips released the belt buckle that sat high on his chest just under his collar bone. =- You start now. -= She said as she popped it lose and relieved the pressure across his shoulders, curling her fingers across his shirt covered pectoral to pull the belt out of the buckle and swing it free of his body. Then, as her gaze lifted to meet his and she swallowed back the feeling of intimacy, she did the same to the buckle that secured his elbows. The lean of her over him was made as brief as possible, but she was very aware of the cool shadow her frame made over him in the soft white light as she released his elbows, and then finally his wrists-- where her fingers actually touched skin and could feel the heat of his flesh and the humidity that relit the lingering subtle scents of sex. Jaq instantly wished she'd have washed him entirely as to not have a reminder of the image. For his wrists she didn't pull the belt free, only popped the buckle free before she stood erect and took a very smooth but swift step back. It had the hint of retreat but there wasn't a lick of fear on any readable features. She knew he was intelligent enough to pick up on the fact she wasn't going to unbuckle all of them for him; it didn't matter her reasons why. =- I want to show you something though, and will allow you some time to eat and stretch your legs... but this will be a very time consuming job. Other than that, I don't care what you do, or... who you do it with. -= She'd spent a lot longer thinking about what terms to lay down than what came out of her mouth but she'd decided simplest was best. Someone could only take so much micro managing before they went off the rails and she had a feeling his tolerance was just about zero. =- I have slippers outside the door so you don't have to walk on the cold tile everywhere .. do you think you're able to come along? -=There was a tilt of her head toward the door when she asked but since she'd popped that buckle, she hadn't taken her eyes off him, watching him release the remaining ones now that his arms and upper body was free. It was just his hips, knees and ankles from there and for that time, her hands once against clasped very lightly in front of her. Almost like she was holding something but clearly not.
Taylor: Close but no cigar. Taylor was a hedonist, he loved indulging in all forms of pleasure whether it be sexual, material or of a chemical means. If Jaq had checked out the pockets of the Armani jacket he wore and let drape over the back of a desk chair in the hotel suite she would have found a stash of premium grade cannabis blunts from Amsterdam already rolled in Bulldog filter tip wrappers right there in the front pocket, along with two E tabs. He'd smoked some with Somchai right before they started fucking. Talk about an altered state of reality, but the Super Green Crack he smoked was considered some of the best weed in the world. So besides his apparent abilities to do the out of body experience thing, he did an occasional toke of chronic. Now, he was a young man and like all men his age--a raging boner wasn't uncommon or considered abnormal. It in fact was a tremendous compliment to her, in fact. There was a sense of relief though as the woman spoke, and said she was going to have him start straightaway. It was then that she started with his lower half when it seemed he had come to terms with their "agreement." As long as Jaq didn't get herself killed, he'd live. Which meant that he'd have to prevent that from happening, plus he'd have to refrain from being violent towards her. As his limbs were freed, there was a utterance of relief from Taylor, when he wiggled his bruised ankles from the straps had him restrained. He stretched out, apparently not ashamed of his aroused state. He was hot. But he was holding it back, because it just wasn't the right time or place. When all the straps had been removed lest his wrists, which were slightly excoriated from his scathing verbal tirade, and struggle to free himself earlier. Jaq popped the buckle free, and like a emerging butterfly from his cocoon worked the rest of the way free himself. He wasn't going to hurt her, but he did notice the way she seemed to shrink back away from him as he continued to undo the straps that still kept him on the cot. He was soon up and about, didn't take a rocket scientist to get the gist of being free to move around. Taylor nodded, and said, "I should like to do that, if I can. Eat that is." He took his time getting up though, sitting on the edge of the bed with his slack covered legs allowed to dangle a few moments before standing. He twisted at the waist and there was an audible pop of bones. He felt a bit stiff, in other areas besides his cock. "I went to school at Oxford U. I think I told you already. No sense in beating a dead horse." he said. He implied he was up for the challenge, having gone to school for clinical lab technician. He could handle pressure, and was an efficient time manager and multi-tasker. "I dun mind cold floors, lovie-- uh what do you want me to call you? I never got around to asking. I'm sure it tisn't 'whoring cunt,' so you'll have to clue me in a bit." The pink muscle of his tongue darted out quickly to wet his lips quickly as he answered. "No, I dun need slippers. I can walk."
Dr. Jaq: -= Yes she had grabbed his coat and all of his personal effects, and perhaps some that weren't his but better safe than sorry and all that. She hadn't yet tried the smoke she'd found, it was being tested for chemical composition, just incase he had seen this coming. Though by his reaction she was guessing not. And yes, that felt like a victory to her. Jaq watched him from a comfortable distance as he erected himself to sit and swing his legs over the edge of the bed. He didn't waste any time standing either, eager to stretch and move she assumed. His arousal was impossible to miss though the doc wasn't quite sure what exactly had turned him on and she wasn't prepared to stage tests to find out. There was a touch of attitude in his quip about not beating a dead horse but Jaq didn't mind it. She wasn't going to expect him to keep quiet while he worked here, not that she could really stop him from talking without making things more tense than they already were. His manners emerged had with that seductive accent as he admitted to wanting to eat; the smile that curled dark lips was in appreciation of both his voice and the way he phrased his answer. That was what she held focus on when she turned from him to open the door, he couldn't see because her body blocked the view, but it was an implanted chip in her wrist which was synced to the entry codes of the door which allowed her to open it simply by flexing her wrist a certain way near the door. Her hip and the slide of her ass against it was what pushed and held it open as she turned back around to watch his lips as he explained he didn't mind the cold tile, and that self correction from calling her lovie as he asked what else he might call her. Jaq couldn't resist the amused exhale of a sound that came with the teeth baring flash of a grin. "Doc or Jaq will do fine Mr. Kane. " She answered first, stepping back into the door to swing it wider so he could exit the room into the hallway she was now standing in. "Maybe the cold tile will help bring down the swelling..." It came out of her mouth with a smirk and a shameless casualty while she stepped away from the door to let it close as she took the lead. There was one door on the left that didn't have a window like the rest, or a door handle where the others did. Staggering there were the four rooms on either side of the hall, no door able to see another door from the window, just the wall on the other side. As they passed, Taylor would be able to see the two hired security men, stripped to their boxers, assaulting the windows with dull thuds. Their anger and outrage and the strain of their muscles suggested how much power they used in their own attempts to cuss at Jaq as she passed by, and get the attention of Taylor. They yelled, but the sound was but a faint hum on the side of the hallway. The blonde woman walked passed them without so much as a side glance, heading for the door at the end of the hall that would take them to the stairwell up to the clinic. She gave him her back, but not without a little tension and a lot of untrusting caution, listening to him more than anything else, because navigating her lab was like second nature already. It was a hand pad that she pressed her palm to that opened the door to the stairwell, but the door didn't swing in any direction, like those automatic doors at the store it slid to the side and opened into the dimly lit rectangular spiral stairs. Each floor having a wide landing that connected the next set of stairs up in the other direction; like you see in most parking garages, though smaller in scale. It wasn't the only entry down there but it was the only one she was going to show him for now. Jaq only responded to whatever he said as they went, heading up to what would open into a hidden little room inside the record room. Otherwise trying to decide, in her mind like a background program, how much to explain to him about what they were doing and why. She knew she'd only be able to get away with having him to so much grunt work. He was an academic, he needed to keep his brain occupied same as her, even if on a different scale and level. First think was first though.
Taylor: It was good that she had grabbed his personal effects, whether they were his or not, because the suite had been rented by the call girl's pimp, it was a place of business. Taylor most certainly didn't wish to have to discover that his John Varvatos overcoat was missing too, along with his leather lace oxfords. So what if the whore's panties had been stuffed into the pocket as a token of his banging a Thai whore. Taylor admitted to himself that he preferred towering over Jaq as he stood there, busily rolling down the sleeves of his Ralph Lauren shirt, and smoothing out the fabric so it wouldn't be so wrinkled. Indeed the chink in his armor, there was a prominent bulge in his trousers. It would fade until the next hour. As far as attitude was concerned, he could have been much more labile with his mood, but his affect was at least pleasant towards Jaq. It was a common phrase, the slang speech his real Mum probably knew and understood to be Cockney slang. He had been born in Brixton, a slum of London, but whisked away by the Society to Prevent Cruelty of Children there, and as he was a Caucasian male, he was quickly adopted out when his whore of a mother signed the paperwork to allow Mr. and Mrs. Kane to take him home. He carried the cultured Oxford accent that bespoke of being rich and society's elite, even though he would have been looked down upon on any English street. Taylor was certain that Jaq would tell him to shush if she heard enough of his mouth. Well that depended on where his mouth was, eh? Taylor was trying to make an effort to be nice and release some of the tension between them, since there was a copious amount of that going on that stemmed from the horrendous consequences in which he was paying for the favor he'd done for his new employer. Which was now lodged somewhere at the base of his neck. He surmised that if he had to die, well it would at least be him going out with a bang instead of a fucking whimper. But he was intrigued by her abilities, and the killer's gleam in her muddy green eyes. It was a habit to call her love, most English used it as a term of endearment towards anyone really. As she unlocked the cipher lock, he could hear it clicking but didn't see how she had done so. "Doc or Jaq. That must be short for Jacqueline, eh? Lovely name. Please call me Taylor, or Tay, if its easier." he smiled back, a twitch of his lips up at the corners of his mouth really. Unless it truly stimulated him, he usually carried himself rather impassively, or without much expression. Usually. Jaq apparently opened the door to his showing his emotions. Being slapped over the head with the reality that he could possibly just be terminated--well. That was sobering. When she stepped back, he walked out of the room he'd been held in when he jerked his head towards the windows where a pair of men were held in their...drawers. They were red-faced and beating on the windows furiously. The first impression of it was he was observant of how ridiculous and futile it was to try to escape from here. Then his next response was to burst out in a fit of inappropriate laughter at their dilemma, as Jaq poked fun at the swelling in his slacks as his feet padded down the hall with Jaq as an escort. "Dun knock it if you haven't tried it, Jaq." he chortled softly, taking note of the turns in the hallway, and through the doors, and up the stairs. He always liked spiral stairs, ever since he lived in a flat with a stair case like that. His toes curled on the bare floor, feeling the cold there and taking in the somewhat clinical atmosphere. He was about to find out what she desired from him. Dr. Jaq: -= Jaq was not immune to being in a closed room with a very attractive and hard man, though she knew and was proud of the fact she might have looked it. In Jaq's mind you can only dabble in the damnable darkness for so long before it became a part of you and for her, she'd long past that threshold. Believing that made it easy to seem as cold on the outside as she often felt on the inside. Dead and gutted. It was morbid humor that often allowed her to socialize where she might not otherwise. His kinder disposition toward her was as comforting as it was a point of interest and question; was he being kinder to genuinely try to play nice, or was he plotting already? Jaq couldn't say she might not be if the roles had been switched, and she wasn't so arrogant to think it couldn't happen. She was just a woman after all. Alright, maybe not just. She didn't answer him on whether or not it was short for Jacqueline, though she was sure he'd take her silence as a yes anyway. She smiled some one he suggested she call him Taylor or Tay but remained undecided if his saying please was enough for her to convert for the sake of not being a total cunt. Did she care if he thought she was a cunt? She assumed he probably did, she'd consider him a dick had roles been reversed. She simply guided him down the hall with that faint smile, adding his name to the list of things up for debate. She chuckled a little as he laughed to her quip about his boner, but she continued walking forward, listening to him speak behind her. She was sure he looked at the men in holding but she didn't watch to confirm that. "I wasn't knocking it Mr. Kane, nor do I have any intentions of trying it. " Her amusement on the subject lingered in blues quality vocals which carried like a song in the echo of the hall before she opened the door to the stairs. Hips sashayed with every step up toward the ground floor, the clinic, and never slowed or sped up. The little landing room the stairs came to was behind the back wall of the record room, and it too was opened with a palm pad from the inside, and again, there was a pocket door that slid to the side to let them into the next room. There were filing cabinets to the left and the door ahead on the right side of a slanted wall. It was as she stepped out, heels lightly clicking on the tile, that she peered over her shoulder to watch him exit and make sure the door slid closed behind him. Once again momentarily in a small space where his height was punctuated by their lack of distance. Her heels made it less dramatic in difference, saving her three inches to accommodate for in the crane of her neck when she look up to those dark eyes of his. "We're stepping into my clinic, the front business I had mentioned before." She could have made him wonder or deduce for himself where he was but she decided to let him know up front as she opened the door into the hall that wrapped around the inside of the clinic. When she stepped out she turned left past the lab, which was marked and closed with a keypad entry, around the corner past the break room of which was also labled though the door was left open exposing the simple sink and counter with a standard fridge and two tables with a total of four chairs. The Janitors closet sat at the direct end of that hall as they turned and it was the first room on the left she took him to, Exam 1. It was modestly decorated, and looked every bit like any other clean high end wellness clinic he might have stepped foot in. There was a light board on the wall with a skull X-ray on it mounted to the left wall beside the visitors chair in the room. It was his skull of course, and as she fingered the light switch to expose the contrast of the films design he'd be able to see the implant for himself. Jaq turned to face him, her back to that wall beside the x-ray, "Assuming you know what an x-ray of your own head looks like," she began, as if it were common and everyone should be able to recognize their own x-rays, "you can see how little I'm bluffing about that implant. I didn't want there to be any sliver of doubt. " In a way, it was a secondary test to see if seeing how real it was would inflame his rage again and cause him to act out. Like an owner testing their dog on their newest obedience training, sort of. She was more tense then, than she had been in their walk to the room, coiled and uncertain of his level of volatility because she hadn't had time to study him that closely.
Taylor: Taylor expected business to be had with Jaq, since she hadn't entertained him with the origins of her name. He wasn't telepathic in the least, but there was a sense of kinship that was unmistakable. "So those men.. are they here for a particular reason?" he asked because he had a curious mind. He could honestly say that along with her 'Nordic Ice Princess' quality, there was a coldness. A dead void inside of her, that was so similar to his own. He was the animus, and she was the anima. Just read Jung. His kinder persona wasn't an act that he was performing for her benefit. It was in fact, an aspect of a pervasive disorder that he had not been treated for. The glib behavior, the charismatic speech. It was all a part of a disorder he'd had since his Dad's sperm was the winner in fertilizing Mum's ovum, and he was spilled out like steaming entrails from her womb and into the world beyond it. Born a bad seed, but was it entirely nature vs. nurture? As Jaq ruminated wearily over the fact he was being so sodding nice--he just watched her eyes and her mannerisms and felt nothing. But he wasn't daft or dropped off the back of a turnip truck either. The wheels in Jaq's head were turning as he stood watching her with his cocoa colored eyes. Suspicion and paranoia were at the forefront of murderous tendencies. It came to no surprise to him that she would not take his kind gestures so easily. Nor did he push them on her. He was quite aware of the fact she'd betrayed him, and normal behavior for Taylor would be 'turnabout is fair play.' They were encompassed together in another small space, if only for a moment for Jaq to tell him that they were entering the clinic. Herp a derp. Taylor could see that it was a clinic without her commentary, but she insisted on saying it as if he were completely too stupid to figure it out on his own. A muscle ticked in his jaw, as he clenched his teeth and a blank expression was worn. Not a peeved expression, or a happy one. Just indifferent. He would pay attention, but he did so without a comment from the peanut gallery. As she showed him around, well at least through the clinic where he could see where he'd be working, eventually they'd gravitate to a room marked 'Exam 1.' It looked like a normal examination room at a doctor's office except for the one thing awry. The white light panel on the wall, holding an x-ray. Of what? His skull and spinal cord. The light was flicked on as he paused beside her, and Taylor just stared at it and made no sound. Not a peep. At the level of C1-C2, where the atlas and axis rested beneath the occipital bones of his skull, the device he'd created for Jaq was wedged surgically. He had to admit, it was done brilliantly. "How did you do it? May I ask that, Jaq?" he uttered softly at first as if he were trying to get his voice to work after a period of silence. It was quite impressive, and he really didn't feel any pain whatsoever. Almost as if nothing had been done to him at all. It was his head though, he could see the darker white contrast of the gauges in both earlobes that he was wearing on the C-Spine radiographs. . Dr. Jaq: -= "So those men.. are they here for a particular reason?" he asked, and she answered without any apparent pre-thought. "I rarely do things on a whim; they helped me bring you here." She knew he was smart enough to take her confession as a tip of sorts, something for him to keep in mind, and no doubt to keep him on his toes. She might have corrected him had she known he thought her reason for telling him they were entering the clinic was because she didn't think he could see for himself. It was a moment gone by though and Jaq simply took note of that flex of his jaw without context to an emotion behind it, and moved on. Knowing he would follow as he had been, to the exam room where she'd propped up his x-ray. Attentive eyes stroked over his face in the wake of his initial silence as he stared at it. She watched the dark marbles slide over the image in confirmation it was him, and that was the implant he'd designed. He'd be dead before he knew what happened, and that was the only mercy Jaq felt she had to offer him as a potential victim and conditional slave of hers. That dryness in his voice kept her eyes closed longer in that blink while she reminded herself what was done was done, there were no take backs on this one. Opening them again as he asked if he could ask her that. "You can always ask." She said first as if on reflex, though absent any harsh or sarcastic tone; Jaq instead quelled it to something softer, more conversational. "I'm a bio-chemist among other things and I've been elbows deep in every kind of cadaver you can think to test on or practice with since before I hit puberty. In time you may see some of my techniques and specialized equipment. " That was where she settled for now, cautiously easing into the details whilst still moving ahead toward getting him working. She turned her head to look at the unnamed X-ray slide with a subtle clench of her own jaw before she flicked the light back out and began speaking as she turned to look back up to him. "But first let's get something to eat... there are things like yogurt and fruit in the break room, or ... trusting you won't give me reason to splatter your melon all over the sidewalk, we can go some place. After you get the rest of your attire of course. " Jaq could have said where and what they were eating and was pretty sure he wouldn't have argued even if he might have suggested or asked for something else. But, being that she needed to get a better idea of how he was coping with all this, she gave him the option and like a terminator, watched him as he replied. It wasn't intentional, the way her face went slack and relaxed with the eye-driven focus of observation, as if she'd somehow unplugged herself to receive information from him without bias. At least, that had been the best explanation Jaq had heard when someone called her out on it. Not that it was unpleasant or particularly cold, only when Jaq was dead-panning and expression did she look absolutely devilish, otherwise it was simply a bit blank. After having mentioned his attire she couldn't help but glance down his torso at what he currently had on and the brief memory of what he looked like without any of it on. And of course, also to see if he was still sporting his woody, because she wasn't inclined to go out in public while he was tenting his pants. She was too alert not to catch the whispers that would spread in their passing and the suggestion of them being together or doing naughty things together made her think about it. And Jaq didn't want to think about it.
Taylor: The response from Jaq concerning the pair closed in a shatterproof glass cage of sorts, did garner a response in the form of a raising of sable brows. "Of course, I knew you couldn't have managed it by yourself, Jaq. I weigh at least 12 stone, maybe a bit more. I'd be way too bloody heavy for you to carry." That was his rationalization at least, but at the same time he was making it seem like she was incapable of doing a man's job. Besides, she had all the busy work of implanting his own device in his head, didn't she? Ah well. He was in a way ready to project his anger towards the two men, but rarely could he revel in glee over the misfortune of someone that really didn't deserve it. He was more inclined to pity them, but showing mercy was beyond his scope, as things were. If he was able to do so, he would put them out of their misery as soon as possible instead of farting around about it as it seemed she was doing from his observations. But perhaps she had not yet taken care of the two because she was biding time--plus she was entertaining Taylor at the moment too. A faint smile blossomed upon his lips. They were obviously going to die. Did he care ultimately? Not particularly. He only cared about himself and that he was the center of his own universe. The world could either fuck off or worship him like a god. His warm brown gaze shifted from the light source over towards Jaq as she answered his brief question. He watched her painted lips move, speaking. So detached, and clinical. Like she had cut him up like a slab of prime rib. That made him blink once, then twice. Then just like that, the topic changed from surgical technique to the food that had been promised to him. "Yogurt? Fruit? 's not like I'm on a bloody diet. Is there any steak? potato?" He wanted something substantial of course, something he could sink his pearly whites into. Then she had to go there. He wasn't going to be perfect all the time, like a automaton that did nothing but totally obey her. He had his own opinions and thoughts of course. Tay lifted his hand and slid his fingers in his dark strands to comb though the tangles, his smooth yet supple lips pulling into a petulant smirk. "It might stain that lovely jacket of yours, Jaq. I'm quite certain you've got about a dozen in your wardrobe all the same color. But I promise you that I'll be a good lad, and behave. As good as its worth." He crossed his fingers of the other hand behind his back, a grin taking the place of the smirk, which was handsome and boyish. His mood varied, and some might say he had a night vs. day personality. Feeling her malachite gaze dance over him as he stood there, he could feel the weight of her stare. She was ruminating again, worrying. Thinking too analytically. She would find his trousers fitting a lot better now, since he'd lost his erection the moment he'd visualized his X-ray. That information went from his medulla oblongata and just about killed his hard on through the synapses of his nervous system. Just like a cold shower, via neurotransmitters.
Dr. Jaq: -= Jaq only smiled to herself when he made the observation that it was obvious she couldn't have done it herself. All the while implying in his own way, she couldn't do a mans job, which was fine by her. The black market surgeon had nothing to prove to him as far as she was concerned and he wasn't entirely wrong. While it was physically possible for her to carry him, it wouldn't have been far or for very long, and she was intelligent enough to get the aid of those who could do it more easily. A queen bee if ever there was one. Jaq clung to her clinical nature in times like these because thinking of him and even the men down stairs as the people they were, the harder it was for her to do her job. In Taylor's case, it also made it harder for her to ignore the fact she was attracted to him; which she was doing a fairly good job of so far. His abrupt reply about wanting steak and potatoes widened her smile genuinely, though it was short lived. Like it was too much effort to hold that expression, letting it fade to only the subtlest curl to compliment her lips. Her eyes drifted down and was relieved to see he was no longer sporting that distraction, which brought her eyes back up as he stood with his hand brushing through his hair. Jaq wasn't usually a fan of men with hair but he looked good with it just the same. She wasn't sure she liked the grin, or rather how it made her feel when she was trying not to feel. The surgeon smiled wider but didn't quite grin.
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