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Hellstinger 24. Tasha-anxious...
Tasha has known Marcus for almost a decade and a half; through his senior years in high school, and she has been his manager for seven years now. And yet, the work hasn't gotten any easier. Especially when Tasha has been left in charge. Currently, Big Joe and Bobby are making a mess of everything in the Family room as they play another round of blackjack with Sara as their dealer. She had tried to keep the two bouncers in check; to stop them from spilling drinks on the rugs, caution their rough handling of the side stools, and the snacks they keep munching and spilling. All to no avail. And Sara didn't help. Although unfamiliar with any of them and without a valid reason to still be in the Manor after sunset, her boldness and social skills were beyond anything Tasha could ever dream of. The level of sass with which the lawyer used to shoot Tasha's attempts down was almost dominating. Now, Tasha has retired to the bar area of the Family room with her iPad in hand,
Hellstinger 25. ...another version...
A blinding light beaconed Sara out of her sweet dreams and brought her awake. The first thing that registered was the sore in her love parts and the slight ache in her waist. Then the joy of the previous night came to her and she smiled in contentment. "Looks like you are having the morning of your life, huh?" Sara's eyes snapped open at the feminine voice. That's when she realized she was alone in bed and the company waking her up was not the one she had hoped would wake her up. "What are you doing in here?" Sara asked, sitting up in bed and holding the linen covers under her armpits and close to her chest. "Where is Marc C?" "Mr. Hellstinger has more important things to do than sending you on your way this morning," Alexander said in a mocking formal tone. "What are you...?" Sara started, but Alexander cut her off. "Don't you get it?" She asked, "You did your job at the precinct, got your boobs autographed, and even had the sex of your life from your cel
Hellstinger 26. Tuxed up...
Phoenix is not a very big city, but it houses a lot of wealthy folks. And one of the few occasions you find all of them together is a fundraiser. Marcus rolled up to the red carpet and stepped out in his tux to meet a multitude of reporters taking pictures of his every move as he walked up the stairs to enter the main Lounge. Even though Marcus enjoyed being flashed in front of dozens of cameras and the luxury of Chateau Luxe complimented him, he still doesn't like fundraisers. With a shallow sigh, Marcus moved through the lounge and every head turned to look at him at least once. And most of them would walk up to him to compliment his looks or declare themselves a fan. But more than half the time, they came to offer their belated condolences on the death of his parents in a car crash; mentioning how charitable his father was and what a good man he was. Marcus quickly found his way to the main hall, where the main event would be held, only to find it unoccupied. Th
Hellstinger 27. ...tipsy...
"Wait," Marcus thought to himself as he looked at the projected screen displaying a list of the top three donors to the cause. "I donated a hundred million dollars?" He wasn't even listening to the part where Mr. Valentine explained the cause of the fundraiser and its objectives. Hell, he has no idea when or how he donated a hundred million dollars, all he knows is that the spotlight shone on him for being the highest donor. As for why everyone seems to be looking at him? He has no idea. "Uh, haha!" Mr. Valentine laughed nervously, "Looks like Marc C is not in the mood to indulge us tonight." "Marcus has always been like a son to me. We used to be close in his teenage years and do fun things together." Marcus frowned; his mind trying to reconcile the Mr. Valentine that attended his graduation ceremony out of high school and the Trevor Valentine that Alexander is so sure is the villain of this story. "And I'm more than happy to see that even though our lives
Hellstinger 28. Marc-napped...
The next time Marcus opened his eyes, it was under a starry sky on the terrace of a house. And the first thing his eyes fell upon were three men seated on recliners, watching him. "He is awake!" The one in the middle called out as he stood up and walked towards. He has the exact demeanor of a bodyguard, just like Alexander; he is not very big but muscular and his red shirt complimented him just fine. "Wakey wakey sleepyhead," A familiar voice said. Marcus turned to see an even more familiar face; it was the black man, one of the thugs that had attacked him and Alexander two nights ago at the club. Marcus would have thought he learned a lesson on their last encounter with the death of his friend, but of course not. That murderous look of hatred was still present and Marcus began to fear his fate. "You will die a horrible death tonight, Marc C," The black man said, coming up to stand beside the Red shirt guy. "And I will be the last face you see so you can tell your
Hellstinger 1. Pilot...
Let me tell you the story of the Hellstingers; long long before the days of man, demon hordes ruled the entire earth in a tight vice. They made everything theirs and used it accordingly. But then, the first man was born. And he didn't like what the demons had done to the eart... "How was the man born?" "What?" Marcus blinked in confusion. "If the earth was full of demons, then who gave birth to the man?" Marcus looked at the questioner, a lady in her twenties, black as night, sculptured like a work of art, and stunningly beautiful. It is Marcus' seventh country on his world tour and after countless hours of performing on stage for ten days straight, he is enjoying his last day in Tanzania with a pool party surrounded by his tour crew, a couple of fans, and half a dozen models all clad in bikini straps. "Baby come on," He said, taking a sip of his campaign straight from the bottle, "just let the story flow, huh?" "Okay, where was I?" "The man di
Hellstinger 2. Hung...over
Marcus just laid there at the center of the bed, with his penis standing at attention underneath the partial cover of a stained white linen, as he watched all perfectly sculptured figures sway tiredly out of the room. "Ah!" He sighs again, content with the moment, and turns his attention to the ceiling. Momentarily forgetting about the hammering headache and the dull aches all over his body. Until; "We leave in fifteen minutes, get up! Get dressed!" All his contentment drained and with them came all his aches in a tenfold. Marcus frowned in a futile attempt to ease the headache as well as annoy the woman standing over him directly in the sunlight's path; she couldn't be older than thirty-four, wearing her usual tightly fitted suit that only lets the sun highlight all the features Marcus tries to ignore. Fortunately, the sun hid her most powerful feature; "Up!" Alexander said again with one eyebrow raised in an inside threat. Although she knows he can't see the rais
Hellstinger 3. Home sweet...
"Told you I would get us here in under five minutes," Marcus said to Alexander as they climbed the steps into the jet. "You got us here in under six minutes, the helicopter would have done it in three." Alexander said, "And we both use the same lawyer, how far do you think you can drag a sexual assault case with me?" Marcus stood at the entryway, watching Alexander disappear behind a curtain deeper into the jet, puzzled for five whole seconds without a clue as to what she was talking about. "Er, whatever." He followed through the curtains which opened up to a cozy lounge area lavished with the best leather money can buy, cushioned by one of the best furniture makers in the United States, with a state-of-the-art diamond-laced mahogany center table. It is occupied by Big Joe and Bobby; Marcus' bouncers. Both of them are big men, weighing hundreds of pounds in fat and muscles. If Marcus is going somewhere rowdy? They are sure to be by his side. Though they are cur