Disclaimer: This story is based in the Shadowrun [TM] universe and uses language, game mechanics, and other elements which are assumed to be copyrighted material of Fasa Corporation. The setting referred to as the CDZ, the rules governing it and the majority of the characters are creations of the author and use the rules set forth by Fasa Corporation.
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Life is good here in the CDZ. Especially for mages; this place oozes power. Not all of it's good mind you, but this is one place where anyone with a scrap of power can make good. They just have to keep their head down and mind their own little corner. Marcus Deacon should have listened to those words, and not his dick.
Marcus was a student at Virginia Tech's School of Magic. From what I've been able to gather, he did fairly well. But he had this itch which he never could ignore. He liked sex more than magic. And once he began to find out how powerful he could become, it was only natural that he would combine his magic with his first love: wet cunt.
As a freshman he went through all of the typical stress that a freshman goes through. And like so many freshmen, sex was his release. He quickly got a rep for being in bed with whoever would spread their legs for him. He was especially fond of metahumans: orcs, elves, dwarves, and even trolls. There was hardly a night he wasn't inside one cunt or more cunts. His roommate, a mundane studying to be an engineer, soon requested to me moved to another room. Not because Marcus was a walking, talking hoop, but because he couldn't get any studying done with Marcus steady fragging this cunt or that cunt. I guess the turning point had to be the night when Marcus walked into the room with a female troll, stripped her, then went about fragging her hoop... literally... while his roommate was still there.
At first, Marcus chose his cunts in the time-honored tradition: bars and frat parties. And there was never a shortage of parties; nightly Blacksburg PD had to break up a party that had gotten out of control. Marcus hunted those grounds like a pro. He'd wait until there was a girl too drunk, stoned or chipped to say no, then make his move. His words were sweet and he never once used his magic. All that changed once he found out how to control other people's emotions.
The first time he tried it was on me. I go by the name Glam, and I am a confirmed lesbian. His spell wasn't strong enough to control me, but it was enough to slot me off. It was blind luck that we were both walking back from a night class AND the VTPD weren't on patrol; that brief spell battle would have gotten us both expelled. But it was fun. And it also let me know that someone was using magic to get laid. Nothing new, but those who tried it quickly learned to watch who they whammy. Marcus never did learn. That's why he's no longer in the CDZ.
From what I have been able to gather, he was on his way from one of the bars in town. On his arm hung a beautiful chica... with breasts crafted by the finest docs in the CAS. I know who she is, and I figured he was in for the shock of his life. They went to his dorm room and apparently fragged. The next day, he was gone. Poof. Left a neat little paper trail. Full of remorse for having done what he did to all of those girls. He was even nice enough to leave their names.
But if you've even heard of shadowrunning, then you know how funny neatness is. It generally means one of two things: professional intervention or mojo extreme. While I haven't personally done any shadowrunning, I know a drekload about it. My home is Seattle; shadowrunning is close to becoming a taxable job there.
I happened to know a student who helped run the security for Marcus' hall and asked if they happened to jack in and see the show. They did, and I got a copy of the fun. At least... it was fun for me and the red head... and her friends.
Marcus didn't waste time trying to worm his way between her legs. He locked the door, then turned around and mauled her tits. You could tell they were done by someone with way too much skill if body sculpting; they sagged just enough to look real while sticking straight out from her body. Real professional work. And expensive. Not something mom and dad shell out the creds for.
And Red wasn't just standing there. Her hands ran over Marcus' body. If you didn't know any better, you'd just assume she was horny. Not so, chummers; she was looking for weapons and foci. Female cops before have patted me down; I know the routines (official and UNofficial) all too fraggin' well. But I know Red; she ain't a cop. This was going to be fun.
