loyalty [1/1]
finally, she has found her purpose. [madame boss/miyamoto]
pokemon; crime; pg13; 540 words
"You have done well, Miyamoto. I am pleased."
The voice is smooth as silk, gliding over her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. But underneath this dark, velvety softness is a hint of danger - a sharpened blade poised to strike at any moment, a gun with its trigger cocked.
Behind the desk, Madame Boss's face is cloaked in shadow. Her cigarette smolders, its brilliant orange heart pulsating in the darkness, and wisps of smoke drift languidly around her, twisting into curlicues of grey. Her nails, sharp and gleaming and painted a deadly red, are drumming out a rhythm against the polished wood.
"Thank you, Madame," Miyamoto says, inclining her head deferentially. "I am glad to have been of service to you."
The woman behind the desk takes one last drag of her cigarette and exhales. The smoke clouds her face like a mourning veil as she stands and walks around the desk to where her subordinate is sitting. As she steps into the light it is plain to see how beautiful she is, with porcelain skin and ruby tinted lips and dark hair that ripples down her back in gentle waves. Her eyes are like chips of black diamond as she surveys the young woman before her, and Miyamoto has never felt so inadequate in her life.
But then Madame Boss smiles, her blood-tinged mouth twisting into something both demure and calculating. She extends a delicate hand and runs one long nail across Miyamoto's cheek.
"No, thank you," she murmurs. "Ever since Team Rocket's formation, I have been searching high and low for the best and the brightest to join our ranks… But I have yet to find another agent like you, Miyamoto. Your successes in the field have given me hope for the future of this organization."
The red-haired woman can hardly breathe from the pride that fills her heart at these words. Finally, she is no longer just another one of life's failures, one of the many left abandoned by the wayside. She had a purpose now - to please this angel of death before her, to submit to her every will and fancy.
Madame Boss's painted smile grows more pronounced. She leans over and gently brushes her lips against Miyamoto's, less of a kiss and more of an anticipation, meant to tease and provoke a response from her adorable subordinate.
"Miyamoto," she whispers as she draws back, "I have an important mission for you. The details are highly confidential, and the mission itself could be one of the most dangerous you will ever encounter. I don't want to put your life at risk, my dear, but you are truly the only one capable of what I require… What do you say?"
There is no need for thought.
"Yes, Madame," Miyamoto murmurs, starry-eyed and flush-faced. "Anything for you."
pokemon; crime; pg13; 540 words
"You have done well, Miyamoto. I am pleased."
The voice is smooth as silk, gliding over her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. But underneath this dark, velvety softness is a hint of danger - a sharpened blade poised to strike at any moment, a gun with its trigger cocked.
Behind the desk, Madame Boss's face is cloaked in shadow. Her cigarette smolders, its brilliant orange heart pulsating in the darkness, and wisps of smoke drift languidly around her, twisting into curlicues of grey. Her nails, sharp and gleaming and painted a deadly red, are drumming out a rhythm against the polished wood.
"Thank you, Madame," Miyamoto says, inclining her head deferentially. "I am glad to have been of service to you."
The woman behind the desk takes one last drag of her cigarette and exhales. The smoke clouds her face like a mourning veil as she stands and walks around the desk to where her subordinate is sitting. As she steps into the light it is plain to see how beautiful she is, with porcelain skin and ruby tinted lips and dark hair that ripples down her back in gentle waves. Her eyes are like chips of black diamond as she surveys the young woman before her, and Miyamoto has never felt so inadequate in her life.
But then Madame Boss smiles, her blood-tinged mouth twisting into something both demure and calculating. She extends a delicate hand and runs one long nail across Miyamoto's cheek.
"No, thank you," she murmurs. "Ever since Team Rocket's formation, I have been searching high and low for the best and the brightest to join our ranks… But I have yet to find another agent like you, Miyamoto. Your successes in the field have given me hope for the future of this organization."
The red-haired woman can hardly breathe from the pride that fills her heart at these words. Finally, she is no longer just another one of life's failures, one of the many left abandoned by the wayside. She had a purpose now - to please this angel of death before her, to submit to her every will and fancy.
Madame Boss's painted smile grows more pronounced. She leans over and gently brushes her lips against Miyamoto's, less of a kiss and more of an anticipation, meant to tease and provoke a response from her adorable subordinate.
"Miyamoto," she whispers as she draws back, "I have an important mission for you. The details are highly confidential, and the mission itself could be one of the most dangerous you will ever encounter. I don't want to put your life at risk, my dear, but you are truly the only one capable of what I require… What do you say?"
There is no need for thought.
"Yes, Madame," Miyamoto murmurs, starry-eyed and flush-faced. "Anything for you."