Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-27950421-20180703040122/@comment-30014014-20180705185232

Running feet across empty halls. High heel clapping against the marble floors of the tiles. An elegant succubi rushing with a letter on her hand, a slightly lifted up robe by her other.

"Miss mayor! Miss mayor! Letter for you!"

A chair spins in a complete 180-degree, halted un place by the snow-white wings, who's winds make a stark contrast to the spin momentum. Glasses adorn the white-haired lady painted in red frames. A casual suit binds her together, having no real spot for the elegant attire that besieges so many nobles like her. A warm smile decorates her face as she sees her secretary hand her the paper "At ease, Margaret".

"Sorry madam--, I mean Bess. A letter for you" breathes the secretary, slowly coming from her sprint.

The mayor gently takes the letter from her and starts reading it. Her smile shapes down to curiosity "From another county? Now why would I inqure about their issues?"

"They thought you could do something about that man. You know, the one who's been apparently able to deny his desires" Margaret speaks, delivering lines from the call that joined her fax.

"I see. Suppose they want the one that's been able to get the 'Isolated' his special someone to deal with their sngular man" Bess takes off her glasses, standing off the chair with the paper still in hand. Her feet carry her to the window view of her desk room. Head rises away from the letter, gazing into the city placed under her care "Margaret, is my husband back still?"

"He just called in. He's beens tuck in traffic for the last 30 minutes or so".

"Good" answers the mayor, turning back, a finger of declaration at her secretary "Tell him he'll he'll have to bear one more task. Tell him, to send an acceptation to the southern county. Tell him, to look into this 'Denier'. Tell him, that if I succeed in bringing our target someone, that they are to allow him to escort the 'Denier' to my city. Tell him, to pick up the milk upon his return because I can't for the life of me spend this night without my dairy intake".

Margaret struggles to write everything in rapid fire in her tiny note pages "Madam, is there anything else you want to--

"Tell him everything, Margaret!" continues to point Bess, her finger shaking with the exstacy of challenge "Everything!!!"

-

A man lays on his back, hands on the back of his head, a severe lack of pants failing to put discomfort in him. His relaxed face tells the tale of a man with all the time in the world. A startling contrast to the frustrated dragon currently slaving the day away to try to ger his 'privates' to stand attention "Damn it!! What kind of man are you even?!"

"One that can deny you wha you seek" he speaks with utmost confidence, nothing to lessen her anger.

"Any man would kill to have someone like me putting their manhood between my breasts like I am. You must be an impotent man!" she accuses.

"I don't know. It seemed ready in the first second, so..."

The dragon breathes fury, flames in her mouth at her inability to have him 'rise up' "I'm done here! I have no time to waste with an impotent husk of a man who can't stand for attention for more than 10 seconds" With no wanting to wait for a reply, the dragon spreads her wings, sending a gust of wind down his face and takes off, fastening her brace in midair.

The man looks at her going with a smug grin on his face, trying not to laugh as he puts his underwear and pants back on "Ahh, that must be the...what, 95th time someone said that to me? They should really learn new retorts".

Slowly but surely, he wanders back home, after a brief time in the store, a soda in hand. The breeze is cool and plentiful, an indication of the upcoming night over day. The man worries not, for those who prey in the dark know of him. When one a-many has wasted the night away trying to 'service' him, words get by, quick. NO point trying today...

...at least, for most. Only, the man feels like a pair of eyes are borrowed in his back, prompting him to turn back. His sight, welcomed with a piece of paper stranded in th winds. Left, nothing. Right, nothing. He sighs "Must be the wind". His march resumes, only for the same feeling of a stalker clinging on his back returned with fervor. His hand shapes like a finger, pointed rapidly at the opposite direction "Ha-ah!!!"

The wind, yet again. This time, the man puts his hands on his hips, bellowing a challenge "You know you're wasting time stalking me, right? You know who I am...that your sisters have failed to try the very thing you are watching me for". His dare is rewarded with a piece of paper slapped against his face. A grunt of dismay breaks the silence as he peels it off, returned to his walk "Must be the wind again.

His walk, uneventful, save for the same feelings, over and over. Growing with intensity each instance, only to be wisked away at his doorstep. Rather than immediately step inside his humble home, the man takes one last glance back. The wind, the wind, the wind.

He sighs as he opens the door, locking it from within "Ugh...feels like the city is out to get to me..." The man barely makes a step in, that a knock on his door is made audible. He turns back to his door "Who in this hour could be wondering--". A grin rises on his face "So it wasn't just the wind. Some desperate gal wanted to try her hand. How sad. Alright..."

He retracts his step, faced with the door. "And, begind door number one, we have---

He slowly opens it, revealed to be nothing as he expected. His face, grinning to the teeth, slumbers down as an elf stands behind, a pristine short dress, molded to her body. The upper part of her dress has open cleavage, much like what one might be wearing in a heated forest. Meanwhile, no pants were to be found accompaying it. Instead, a miniature robe designed like a princess' is replacing it, although very shortened. It reveals much, while showing nothing. A generous chest, and perfecting molded hips.

Subtle tease burned into his retinas, as one unlike the rest faces him. This tease further escalates as her voice is made heard "Greetings! I am Regina and seems to be lost in this curious city. I was wondering whether you would be kind to let me sleep in your domain for but a week. I'll help around if that's what it takes".

A honey-laced voice...accompaying a human-like body enchanced by elven proprieties. Already, the combination is cranking his meditation limits up to eleven. A challenge, by someone? Can't be from this city. The thoughts in his head push each other aside concerning where she may hail from. But he can't refuse it. At this point, he must assume every eye glares in his direction. Perceived weakness of his meditation will onl give a second wind to the rest, killing his days off in their attempts. Game on!

"Hum...sure, come in, come in! Nobody should be in the streets at night!" he speaks, subtly accepting whatever this is supposed to be. Regina gives off a bright smile, tip-toeing her way inside. The man was ready for whatever she was to throw at him, his meditation perfected against all odds.

"Thank you dearly, kind sir. I would be humbled to aid you in this domain until then. Please, if there is anything I can do, do not hesitate!"

That voice again...hearing it on a daily basis is going to be trying, his cheeks slightly heated. "No problem, although there's not much do maintain here, since I don't work here".

With that said, the man immediately rushes to the basement, where his meditation equipment is. Better make sure his mental is fortified, for the storm coming has already tested his defenses.

--

The morning starts with immediate disaster. The man, having spent the night in the basement, comes up the stairs, waiting to start the series of days off he was into. His mornig routine begins with a trip to the toilet. But before, he goes against the door of his room, where Regina is to sleep, at least for the week. Placing his ear on the door, he can hear he snoring the day away. It was morning, and she was still sleeping. "Ohh, sweet, she's a heavy sleeper. It'll be easy then".

Indeed it was. Assuming he could leave home before she woke up, all he'd have to do is spend the day away and come back at night. Easy peesy.

Or so he thought...

The man rushes to the toilet, feeling his need to relieve himself from yesterday's soda increasing. He opens the door...to a Regina applying make up. Her hair twirled up in a towel, like her body. Her clothes, set aside on the side bar. She was wearing nothing but this towel. Her snow-white skin, glistening with the water from the shower, the towel doing nothing to hinder her molds underneath. His teeth grince under his jaw. "Was she not supposed to be sleeping?" he whispers under his breath.

A louder whisper than he expected, with Regina turning to his with a look of surprise "Ohh, good morning, kind sir! I was just prepraing myself for the day".

God...that voice. The man, although in control, feels her voice running over his fortitude. His stare frozen at her body, slowly eying it from top to bottom.

"Sir?" Regina asks, her hands moving to rest over her chest, only to catch his attention to it.

"It's fine. I'll come back later--

"No need! I can continue back at the bedroom if you need the toilet" Regina calls out, taking a step closer.

"No, no. It's ok, I'll wait--

"But I insist!" she cuts off, her chest now brushing against his own. Her wet, soft, ample chest with the towel doing little to mask the sensation. Her hands drags him inside in a spin, causing the man to stagger for but a moment. Her back is turned to him, face sideways "Don't worry about me, sir, you're already doing much for me!"

Her departure is much needed, for a heavy sigh escapes him "Damn it, this is going to be a bit more complicated than I thought..." Doing his thing, he stands before the mirror, still blurry form the steaming water. Hands rest on the sink "Ok, game plan. Get dressed, get out! Rush if you have to, and you're scoot-free". He claps his hands together like he was in a football team, pumped back to his usual confident self "I didn't spend 2 years in the meditation temple just to be made a mockery of by some outlander! Right? Right! Game, set and match!"

The man walk-runs out of the bathroom, not quite running for the door, but at the same time, it would be denial to think he wanted to be left here any longer. Dropping the stairs like a man with pants on fire, he braces for the door, a blur all around his surrounding. So close, he can smell the fresh wood carvings off of it.


 * Boing*

The man knew his door like the back of his hand. He knows it tends to open with a great enough momentum that that knob is easy to concede under his rush. Instead, his door was not what he slams against. The blur of the world, produced from his speed recedes, colors of green coming to view. Emerald irises reflect his own person, from centimeters. His torso fell upon a squishy opposite.

"S-sir?! What are you doing?!" a voice calls to his ears. Finally seeing ahead, the man realizes he just ran at the elven woman full force, having her placaded against his door, with him on the opposite. She was literally stuck between a rock and a hard place.

-- (Not done, though. Gonna try not to overdraw it that much, even when I've already passed far from the line)