+ Old Member, New Audition +
Name: Carrah
Age: 17
Location: DFW, Texas
First Piece
A bit perverted, are we? Certainly makes for interesting conversation. Hm. Guess we learn something new every day.
She's a whore at heart, on her knees and begging for more. Tie her up, beat her down, make her beg for you, two, three. Whips, chains, handcuffs and others- things you've never even thought to do, to try, to experience.
And they said you were the knowledgeable one. Crush her, break her, make her squeal and moan and groan. She's a fallen angel- your fallen angel, her once neat and tidy curls now fallen and tangled, wrapped around your fingers and her neck.
She's a slut at heart, playing the innocent by day, a temptress and seductress by night. Her fingers know just what to do, her mouth, her lips- everything- all for you...and him....and him. She's your fantasy, and his- all too perfect to be real, too flawed to be a dream.
Love her, hate her, keep her, leave her. Lick and suck and push and pull- she's yours, to do with as you please. A broken doll, if you will. But she's no doll- her skin's too warm and her eyes too dark and her sounds too loud.
And as you take her, as he takes her, even as the third takes her, all at once, her tears of pain and pleasure mix with yours, for all you want to do is fix her, to hold her close and whisper sweet words of endearment, to save the girl she could become.
Second Piece
The war is never over. Standing on the hill, she stares out into the sunset. She longs for the day when the smoke will clear and the sun will shine. Not hearing the footsteps behind her, she is startled when he taps her on the shoulder. She turns to find herself lost in his eyes, eyes the color of her amber amulet. Automatically, her hand flies up to the pendant, gripping the only reminder of their time together.
"You've been crying," he whispers, "Why?"
Still gripping the amulet, she turns and again stares into the horizon. "This must be what hell is like," she replies. The sky takes on an eerie quality, the orange hue and smokey clouds providing apt evidence for her observation.
He moves to stand next to her. Their arms barely touch, but he can still feel the hurt radiating from her. He too stares off into the distance.
She breaks the silence, "The pain, the fire. I mean, look at this. Our everything is gone. Dreams, homes, hope, faith. Everything."
He turns to her. She's so pretty, her brown eyes still shimmering with tears, and her long dark hair hanging in waves down her back. For a moment, he almost wishes for what could have been. He blinks. Reality crashes back into place; he's moved on and is with someone else now. She looks up at him, one arm hugging herself, her other hand gripping the amulet with a death-grip.
"When will it end?" she asks.
"I don't know," he answers, "I don't know."
Age: 17
Location: DFW, Texas
First Piece
A bit perverted, are we? Certainly makes for interesting conversation. Hm. Guess we learn something new every day.
She's a whore at heart, on her knees and begging for more. Tie her up, beat her down, make her beg for you, two, three. Whips, chains, handcuffs and others- things you've never even thought to do, to try, to experience.
And they said you were the knowledgeable one. Crush her, break her, make her squeal and moan and groan. She's a fallen angel- your fallen angel, her once neat and tidy curls now fallen and tangled, wrapped around your fingers and her neck.
She's a slut at heart, playing the innocent by day, a temptress and seductress by night. Her fingers know just what to do, her mouth, her lips- everything- all for you...and him....and him. She's your fantasy, and his- all too perfect to be real, too flawed to be a dream.
Love her, hate her, keep her, leave her. Lick and suck and push and pull- she's yours, to do with as you please. A broken doll, if you will. But she's no doll- her skin's too warm and her eyes too dark and her sounds too loud.
And as you take her, as he takes her, even as the third takes her, all at once, her tears of pain and pleasure mix with yours, for all you want to do is fix her, to hold her close and whisper sweet words of endearment, to save the girl she could become.
Second Piece
The war is never over. Standing on the hill, she stares out into the sunset. She longs for the day when the smoke will clear and the sun will shine. Not hearing the footsteps behind her, she is startled when he taps her on the shoulder. She turns to find herself lost in his eyes, eyes the color of her amber amulet. Automatically, her hand flies up to the pendant, gripping the only reminder of their time together.
"You've been crying," he whispers, "Why?"
Still gripping the amulet, she turns and again stares into the horizon. "This must be what hell is like," she replies. The sky takes on an eerie quality, the orange hue and smokey clouds providing apt evidence for her observation.
He moves to stand next to her. Their arms barely touch, but he can still feel the hurt radiating from her. He too stares off into the distance.
She breaks the silence, "The pain, the fire. I mean, look at this. Our everything is gone. Dreams, homes, hope, faith. Everything."
He turns to her. She's so pretty, her brown eyes still shimmering with tears, and her long dark hair hanging in waves down her back. For a moment, he almost wishes for what could have been. He blinks. Reality crashes back into place; he's moved on and is with someone else now. She looks up at him, one arm hugging herself, her other hand gripping the amulet with a death-grip.
"When will it end?" she asks.
"I don't know," he answers, "I don't know."