Crystal opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. However, a smile plastered across her lips as her hair whipped around her head like a shiny umbrella. The swirling earth moved up towards her at an alarming pace and she quickly pulled her ripcord and released her parachute, gliding down to the landing platform safely where she plopped down onto the soft grass.
She smiled at Benton, her instructor, as he approached her from his place by the red safety gate.
"You always trying to kill yourself, Crystal?" He asked, his arms crossing in front of his chest.
Crystal winked at him and, toting her heavy gear in her arms, began to huff and puff her way back to base. Benton trotted after her, clearly annoyed. The owner of the jumping camp had been her employer and friend for nearly a year now and always criticized her on her timing. Although, he knew she was a dare devil who would never change her ways. The wind rushing past her was too addictive to waste so she always took her time pulling the chute. She had explained this to him before many times.
Sky-diving made her feel free. As she worked her second job in an outside flower shop, she would always look up at the birds flying past her in the sky and wonder how freedom truly tasted.
He caught up with her again on her way to the recreation room, spinning her around by her shoulder.
He rubbed his head roughly before looking down into her dark eyes. "Crystal, you need to take a break from jumping. I have people requesting to learn from you every day, and I can't let you teach them when you act like this".
Immediately, Crystal's brow furrowed and she looked cross. She picked up her pen and paper and scribbled a message: "I have never messed up before with a client." She emphasized by slamming her pen down onto her notebook.
"I'm sorry, hun, but you have got to take some time off for your own... sanity. I understand why you do it, I really do. Then again, I also think that you walk a fine line between death and life. Sometimes I wonder if there will be a day when you won't pull your chute. What am i going to tell the clients on the ground when they see their instructor go splat in front of them?"
"Fuck you, asshole." She wrote, passively aggressively stalking out of the room, the anger radiating off of her. Benton crossed his arms again, a little smile knowingly pressed against his lips. He knew his little spitfire of an instructor would be back soon enough.
She wrenched open the door to her old corvette and, after rushing home like a maniac, banged through the entrance to her little apartment. Jenna looked up in surprise. Her friend since junior high was a long legged brunette who owned a dazzling smile.
"You're home early!" She grinned widely. "Coming clubbing tonight? I'm sure it will help you work off whatever has so greatly pissed you off," She said thoughtfully, looking Crystal over from her angry eyes to her fisted hands.
She nodded back in response as she stroked her curly hair with her fingers, already distracted by the idea of luring someone into her possession like a siren who took her captured men into the depths of the deep ocean. Hooking up always helped to knock her out of her anger cycles, and she enjoyed surprising her "victims" with her dominant personality.
She imagined it from their point of view. A short, petite brunette seeking them out in a crowd, beckoning them forward with a finger, taking their hands and placing them on her waist, right above her hips. They always suspected that she was eager but never fully understood her intentions. She loved being the mysterious girl that did not utter a word, instead choosing to speak with her eyes and actions instead.
It didn't really matter who she caught that night because they always found themselves beneath her on the bed. She chose them and she fucked them, not the other way around. Their heads banged against the mattress as she rode them with her pale, petite legs clasped around their waists. She pushed their muscular arms above their heads and they were always too shocked to protest. Then she left them there on their bed, winded and sucked dry after taking her own pleasure.
Crystal always took what she wanted. She thought back to her lonely childhood where she had constantly been controlled by the older girls at the orphanage who were jealous of her supposed beauty.
"Cover your arms," they said. "Don't you dare show your ankles around here."
"Don't you see the boys looking at you?"
"You're asking for it."
"Sweep the floor and do the dishes. Don't forget to fold our clothes." They would tell her after pushing her down into the dirty floor.
She had been forced to toughen up ever since a man had found her huddled between the side of a dumpster and a brick wall chewing on an old pizza crust. Her red tinged hair had been a tangled wasp's nest that nearly covered her pale little face. She was dirty and soiled, and when he asked for her name she could not reply.
Her dark eyes stared back at her from the crusty bathroom mirror that came with the apartment. She pressed her hands flat against the cold granite sink as she watched the anger swim behind her pupils.
She had rebelled as soon as she was given enough leash to lash out at her captors. Drugs had been her greatest discovery within the first week of public school, her second being her best friend, Jenna. Crystal had weaned herself off of narcotics ever since she had taken up sky-diving, which fulfilled her need to escape her mind along with her many sexual adventures. Sometimes, being unable to scream into the dark black night drove her crazy.
Yes, she thought. Tonight would be no different.
Their heels clicked up the stone steps of Club Monstre a little past midnight. The thrumming music touched something deep inside of Crystal's chest and made her heart beat faster as they neared the black fringed canopy that served as an entrance to the dance boutique.
"ID?" The bouncer asked. His eyes roamed past her black lace top, paused on her leather shorts, his eyebrows raising at her knee high boots before quickly flicking back up towards her onyx eyes.
She smiled charmingly at him while he unclicked the velvet rope for them and gave her hips an extra swing as she felt his eyes burn into the back of her shorts.
Pushing past the black curtains, the club thrummed with electronic bass that filled the space around the dancers.
"It's pretty gothic tonight," Jenna yelled over the music, just as a pierced man in tight leather pants and bondage gear bumped into Crystal from behind. She turned and looked up into his eyes, then glanced down at the sizeable bulge that jutted out from between his legs. She turned her face up to him again with a smile, already pleased to have a candidate for tonight's games. He was obviously a dom and she liked the idea of pushing his sexual boundaries.
She pointed over at the bar and raised her eyebrows at him, silently asking him to buy her a drink. Tight pants cocked his head curiously before nodding and pushing past her, making his way through the crowds to get the bartender's attention.
"Are you sure about that one?" Jenna said, crinkling up her forehead at him. "He looks sketchy as hell. Do you want me to stick around?"
Crystal shook her head slowly, pointing at her forehead to show that she was thinking on the ball. Then she pointed at her friend and made the okay signal with her thumb and pointer-finger before tilting her head inquisitively.
"Yeah, i'll be fine, i'll be over there," She said, pointing at the female gogo-dancer's cages. Jenna wasn't really into men.
Crystal smiled and kissed her friend's cheek before retreating into the crowd. She appreciated that there was at least one person in the world that truly cared about her.
"Fuck," Bull murmured, dropping the cigarette and stepping on it.
"That...was the last cigarette in the pack. The last cigarette that would have held me over for the rest of the night. What the hell is up with you tonight? I should beat your ass for wasting that," Sharptooth snarled, the other bouncer that was manning the back entrance to the club. He was pressed up against the stone wall, his huge form shadowed by the darkness. A trail of smoke leaked out of the cig that he had just finished and trailed up out of the alleyway and towards the moon.
"I smelled her again," He said.
"The pixie scent? I still don't believe it... they aren't usually out and about like this."
Bull nodded, shaking his head to clear the smell from his nostrils. It was intoxicating and overwhelming. She was aroused enough that he could hear her heart fluttering between her legs. Standing at nearly seven feet tall, Bull commanded attention simply because he was a massive man. Well, beast.
Bull was a troll. Troll's hunted and claimed pixies.
Small pale yellow horns peeked out from the dirty blonde hair hidden underneath Bull's hat, something that he wore constantly in the human world. His massive shoulders were as broad as a dinner table and framed a scruffy tan face.
"Do you want me to take this one?" Sharptooth asked, already preparing himself for the confrontation. He licked his lips. "I haven't claimed in quite some time, not since I lost my last pixie to my older brother before I could have her to myself completely."
Bull growled. Something about this one made him defensive.
"No. This one's mine."
