"POSSESSION"

Written by:

Leon Kevlar

Marschmallews

Introduction

Booker DeWitt, a private investigator in the Big Apple, went out for another normal evening in his life of living in the shadows. As the night progressed, nothing could prepare Booker for what was going to happen next.


PART 1

New York, 1959

"I should not have come here."

Booker DeWitt just got off a cab in front of The Plaza Hotel; a late night call from an anonymous tipster: "7:00 PM. The Plaza. Ask the receptionist." That was all he could get from the caller. When he tried to press the caller for more information he was immediately cut-off.

"Do this, DeWitt, and we can wipe away the debt."

He took out the pack of Oxfords sitting in his trench coat's inner pocket and stuck a piece between his lips. He thought of entering the hotel as soon as he arrived but he felt uneasy. It could be a trap, looking at the hotel, top to bottom. He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, producing a small plume of flame at the tip of his thumb and index finger and used it to light his cigarette. It was about 6:35PM on his wristwatch. I still have less than half an hour.

He stood in front of the entrance to pass the time and watched the concierge greet the high profile guests checking in for the night. He recognized some but only a few stood out, like Frank Fontaine the head of the Fontaine crime family and his underlings, eccentric billionaire Andrew Ryan, and famous African-American jazz singer Daisy Fitzroy who was probably the main act for tonight's dinner.

Looks like shit is about to go down tonight, Booker thought. He took a deep breath from his cigarette and blew a puff of smoke downwind trying to avoid a couple walking by. It wasn't really an uncommon sight to see these groups in these kinds of places. Just last month, almost the same group of people was seen at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre during the opening night for The Sound of Music.

It was 6:55PM. He eventually convinced himself that he was just being paranoid and entered the hotel after finishing his third cigarette since he arrived. "Hmp, 'wipe away the debt' my ass." He uttered as he entered the lobby completely ignoring the bellhops greeting him.

He darted for the reception desk where he was greeted by a pair of red headed twins, or at least he thinks they were twins. They were like mirror copies of each other except one is a woman and the other was a tall man. "DeWitt. Booker DeWitt. Uhm... I was told to come here?" He said reluctantly. I just want to get this over with so that I can finally get to my favorite glass of Scotch.

"I told you he'll come."

"No, you didn't."

"Right! I was going to tell you he'll come."

"But you didn't..."

It was like a practiced routine, the two spoke as if they knew what the other was going to say. "Excuse me!" Booker interjected.

"Ah yes! Back to business," the man said.

"The LADY is expecting you."

"She told us to emphasize the word 'lady.."

"...to calm your nerves," the woman finished.

Booker looked more confused than he was when he first arrived here. A dame? Looking for me? he thought to himself.

"You think that calmed him down brother?"

"Clearly it did not."

"It didn't, clearly."

"Just head straight to Suite 2030..."

"...and we shall let the lady know that you have arrived."

"Uhm... thanks," said Booker, finishing their exchange of dialogues. He didn't even stop to question the two; they were either insane or obsessed with theater shows. He moved away from the desk and immediately went for the elevators choosing the 20th Floor from the column of buttons.

Somehow it did calm him a bit knowing that he'll be meeting a woman. His confusion and paranoia was slowly being replaced with piqued interest. What could this dame want with me? A job? He remembered the faces of the Fontaine Underbosses he saw earlier the thought of dread crept back in his mind.

He did help the NYPD put some of their Consiglieres behind bars the previous month. Maybe it's a setup. No, that wouldn't make any sense. He continued to argue with his thoughts during the long ride he reached his designated floor. "Suite 2030..." He whispered as he scanned through the doors in the hall.

Booker reached inside his overcoat clutching the grip of his Broadsider pistol with finger at the ready when he found Suite 2030. He went for the gilded door handle and tried to push the door open but it won't budge. In his hurry to get away from the twins he forgot to ask for a key. "Dammit!" he cursed under his breath.

He thought twice about knocking because he was slightly dreading the announcement of his arrival and it might be the signal for the organized assassination and then -BAM!- a bullet through his head. He quickly turned his head around with that thought but no one was there. Thinking about a gun firing off didn't help him there.

Now, his pistol out in the open he took a deep breath and slowly reached out his left hand to knock. on the door but before his knuckles touched the varnished mahogany door it swung open. He quickly raised his pistol expecting trouble but what he saw made him point back down as quick. It was a man with blonde hair, parted to the side. He was wearing a long black tailcoat and a purple bowtie. He instantly recognized the man as one of the hotel butlers. "If you could put away your weapon, sir. Lady Comstock is expecting you..." the man said, not phased even after having a loaded gun pointed at him.

After being ushered in, the man disappeared in a puff of thin black smoke then returned after a few seconds. "I've already informed Lady Comstock that you're inside. She's upstairs waiting for you, sir." He disappeared again and appeared just outside the door preparing to walk away from the suite. "What does she want from me?" Booker asked. "The Lady has requested me to leave as soon as you arrive and not to answer any of your questions. You have a good night sir," he replied and closed the door behind him. "Damn Splicers," Booker muttered under his breath.

Booker now had a chance to get good look-around at the room. He was a bit puzzled when the butler said "upstairs" but it made sense when he saw the staircase going up at the end of the short hallway. The suite had two flights. The floor where Booker was, had the study and a small living room. The bedroom is probably upstairs, he figured.

He scanned the room some more and eventually declared that coast is clear. Booker, not wanting to take any chances, kept his gun out and continued upstairs. When he arrived at the last flight, another hallway greeted him. To his left was an open door and at the end of the hallway is an open glass door that leads to the terrace.

A sweet smelling aroma aroused him to enter the room. Booker peaked inside to check the perimeter from a safe distance and found nothing just yet. This must be the Master's Bedroom, judging by the grandiose of the king-sized bed and the large regal headboard that housed an intricate set of detail. Not to mention the first-class cream-coloured bedsheets and pillows with borders of gold lines, he studied, and she's not even here. The impatient man that he is, Booker grew frustrated and proceeded towards open balcony; perhaps for another smoke as he awaits the Lady. As he was nearing the glass doors, his ears rang… She's here.

He halted just a few inches before the entryway. He leaned forward a little and listened to tune of the song intently… It was familiar.

Fly the ocean in a silver plane...

The curious man crept closer towards the arc.

See the jungle when it's wet with rain….

The woman's voice went from a hum to singing the rest of the hymn as he drew nearer.

Just remember till you're home again.

Booker now found himself in the confines of the balcony.

You belong to me…

The hair on the back of his neck rose as the closing lyric pierced through his heart. The woman was standing at the other end of the terrace. She had black shoulder-length curls for her locks, swept to the sides of her heart-shaped face and a pair of lips painted in red. For her clothing, she wore a white fitted casual long-sleeve with black collars and cuffs, matched with a lengthy black skirt that shaped her hourglass figure. Her stockings were noticeable as the skirt wasn't long enough to cover her legs and the whole look was capped with a foxy pair of two-inch heels. The woman knows her fashion and seems to be quite a vixen herself, he observed. She also seems to be a woman of class. I wonder who is maintaining her? And in a lavish suite, too.

When the the butler confirmed he was working for a woman, he expected some middle aged lady or even a geriatric looking for a detective to solve their hopeless cases.

The Lady noticed that she was now being watched. She knowledgeably glanced to her right and saw the man she was allegedly waiting for. When she recognized him, she lifted her right hand and beckoned him to come closer. Booker was still stunned, eyes widening at the sight of this beautiful young lady. Nothing prepared him for any of this but he stepped closer to her. Noticeably, she wasn't wearing much make up on her face, only on her lips but still absolutely striking. There were no words for the brief moment of silence. This made the Lady raise one of her eyebrows in doubt. He crammed his brained for words and decided to introduce himself.

"The name's Booker DeWitt, investigator. I'm here because you have business for me to attend to. So… the call was from you... Lady Comstock was it?" Booker laid out his open palm for her simultaneously with his introduction; she then followed by placing her hand softly upon his.

"It's Elizabeth, monsieur. Elizabeth Comstock," she said. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance, m'lady Comstock." he answered, leaning down and kissing her soft, rosy hand. I think I just made a deal with the devil on this one, Booker teased himself. "My, my, Mr. DeWitt, what a darling. I didn't realize you were quite a gentleman. I've heard rumours were otherwise," she said, looking surprisingly pleased and she lifted her hand from Booker's. "Are these rumours the reason you wanted to get a hold of me?" he replied. Informants? Booker thinking at the back of his head.

"I can assure you, Mr. DeWitt, other than that, I've heard nothing but good things about your reputation." She took one last breath of the frigid evening air and turned to face Booker. "Come, Mr. DeWitt. Let's get inside before we catch a cold. Let's talk business," she declared and walked towards the hallway.

Booker followed suit, not taking his eyes off his voluptuous hostess. As they were walking along the hallway, his eyes fell into noticing how she fits in her clothes so well. Her tight white blouse shows just how top-heavy she was and her rear was quite the sight to see for a man such as him, who finds curvy women very attractive. He figured that she would proceed downstairs to the common room as he is a guest but Elizabeth took a right and entered the Master's bedroom. Booker stopped before the door and asked, "This is no place for a man you've just met," he announced. Even if he is a man with needs, he still remembered his composure, I'm not drunk enough to just barge in this woman's room. "Oh, don't worry darling, I'm a grown woman and I have my own precautions to incapacitate you if it comes to that," she teased. That sounds like a threat. "Come. Let's talk business," said Elizabeth, inviting him inside.

She seemed to have previously been sitting by the open window while waiting for his arrival for quite a while. Elizabeth placed a cigarette in between her fingers and leaned on the edge of the windowsill. "Got a light?" she asked.

With the Devil's Kiss, Booker snapped his fingers in the usual fashion and lit her cigarette. He urged her to sit on the nearby chair by the adjacent window but she declined, "You are my guest, Mr. DeWitt. I've been sitting there for quite sometime already." He nodded respectfully to agree and took the seat.

"What kind of business are we getting ourselves into, m'lady?" he questioned, as he sunk back into the chair he was sitting on. Comstock… Where have I heard that name before? Booker wondered.

"Believe it or not, Mr. DeWitt, I called you here to pay you off," Elizabeth said she blew smoke out the window. Wipe away the debt, Booker recalled the man over the telephone said. "You probably know by now, who I am..." She was observing Booker who was still trying to remember the name judging by his furrowed eyebrows.

"Let me make this easier for you, Mr. DeWitt." She took in another deep breath from her cigarette "Zachary Comstock," she said, blowing smoke towards Booker's direction. The fog stung his eyes causing him to squint therefore assuming that this is a diversion. The name also made Booker sat bolt upright and quickly reached in his coat, grabbed his Broadsider from his body holster; his curious expression quickly changed into a dazed and horrified one.

Now he remembers. Zachary Hale Comstock. He was only recognized as "The Prophet" by the public and his followers. His real name was only released to law enforcement agencies to protect any next of kin he has. Zachary Comstock was a known fanatic and extremist leader of the underground white supremacist group called, "Columbia." His so-called cult was also infamous for sexually harassing, torturing and murdering countless members of coloured races such as those of the African-Americans and Asians residing in various states of America.

Zachary Comstock, while keeping up his religious leader ploy, managed to evade the judicial system by resorting to blackmail and tampering with court evidence. He was a slippery son of a bitch until a couple of years ago. He was spotted within a group of heavily armed white robed figures on their way to a black populated neighborhood.

The shooting started at Harlem around midnight as they started firing their automatic weapons towards populated building and establishments killing dozens and injuring hundreds more. Police responders including any nearby law enforcers and armed Private Investigators we're called in to back up. The firefight lasted until 3:00AM, law enforcers killing more than half of the attackers and those that were caught alive still proudly that they were members of Columbia.

Among the dead was Zachary Comstock, the killing blow was credited to Booker DeWitt. He caught the old man trying to flee the scene along with three of his most loyal followers. Booker always hated the son of a bitch and was glad to put a bullet in him when he saw the bastard running.

"So you called me here to return the favor then, Lady Comstock?" Booker spat, "Is that what you meant by wiping away my debt!?" His voice a lot more harsher. "Dammit! This was a setup all along!" He was now waiting for Columbia stragglers to come and bust in through the doors and ambush his sorry arse for falling for the "trap".

"Oh please, Mr. DeWitt. I didn't call you out all the way here for petty revenge," she rejected. Elizabeth looking out the window with doll's eyes. "Like I said, I called you here to reward you for your heroic actions. Please put your gun down," she insisted. Booker was standing up with his pistol aimed towards Elizabeth. She gave him a good stern look and he lowered his weapon. She stood up and took out a bottle of black label Lacas scotch atop the bedside drawer. She carefully poured herself a glass and tossed the bottle to Booker.

"Catch..."

Booker snatched the bottle mid-air. She walked over to him and handed him another glass. He then poured himself a drink. "I appreciate the expensive Scotch, m'lady, but I still don't follow." Booker said still trying to piece together what was happening.

"I hated my father, Mr. DeWitt. He was a racist, a bigot, and a giant sack of horse manure in shoes and a beard," she hissed. She took a sip from her glass and continued "When they broke the news to me, I didn't feel anything.." She was observing how Booker would react to her words "I always thought that I'd eventually miss him when he dies but I don't Mr DeWitt, he was barely even a father to me."

Realizing that Elizabeth was no more than a threat than he was to her, Booker started to ease back on the chair. Daddy issues, huh? He thought. "Makes sense that a terrible person like him would make a terrible father, but what exactly did he do to you that made you smite him this much?" He curiously inquired.

"Besides being a geocidal maniac?" She let out a sarcastic little laugh. "Were your parents strict, Mr. DeWitt?" It was rhetorical. She only paused for a second then continued. "The worst years of my life... Father kept me locked up within the walls of our estate back in upstate New York for years since Mother died. You know the stories right?" She was perched back on the window with her glass of Scotch in hand.

Booker remembered reading the files back when he was still in the Force but it's been so long he can only remember some of the details. It was around the year 1947, when a couple of burglars broke into their estate. Annabelle Comstock was found dead inside the Master's bedroom. Based on their investigation, she was strangled to death, all jewelries and valuables were taken and their "secret safe" was found to be busted open as well.

It was also documented that Zachary Hale was out that night attending one of his secret meetings that were no doubt to be with The Klan. Since it was impossible for any random burglars to find the hidden safe in such a short period of time, Zachary immediately accused his servants to be in league with the burglars. This incident only fueled his existing hate and bigotry towards other races and it is believed that this is also the reason Columbia was formed.

"10 years I was locked up in that house because of his paranoia," said Elizabeth, her voice again filled with spite. "Funny how he always told me it was for my own good and that he was only doing everything he can to protect me." She gulped what was left in her glass in one motion. "How can he even protect me when he wasn't even there? He was never there for me and especially when I needed him the most. In the past decade of my life, all the news I learned about him were the terrible headlines from newspapers and reports I've heard over the radio."

Booker leaned in closer to Elizabeth with the open bottle of Scotch and filled a third of her empty glass. "And then you came, on the day of his funeral there were plenty of whispers. And they all say the same. Booker DeWitt." Her tone started to change now, a lot softer from earlier. "I figured I should at least thank the man that broke me out of that prison. As much as a scumbag he was, the inheritance my father left me proved to be quite useful. " She took a sip from her freshly poured drink. "Some of that money I spent on gathering information about you Mr. DeWitt, I learned a lot these past couple of years. You could say it became an obsession…"

"Why now?" Booker inquired. "You knew my name in the last few years, it's not like I was in hiding or anything." And what did you mean by obsession? Booker wanted to add but bit his tongue the last second instead. He wanted to learn more about her first.

"That was the original plan Mr. DeWitt. But when I saw first hand what my father did to those poor poor people... I got scared." She let out a sigh of regret. "So I ran away to Paris. I thought about starting over and just forget all these atrocities my father tied to our name…" Elizabeth carefully took out another stick from a pack of Oxfords lying nearby.

"But you came back." Booker leaned forward a bit to light the outstretched cigarette with his flaming fingers. "I heard stories about a woman that's been helping the victims of the Harlem shootings. I suppose that was you?" He looked at Elizabeth waiting for a response but all he got was a weak smile. "Clearly, you're not your father. You felt responsible so you came back and I respect you for that Lady Comstock," he said, raising the bottle in hard in approval.

"Well I'm glad you can see that Mr. DeWitt." Elizabeth felt relieved that Booker was beginning to understand her. The intense aura that filled the room from her reveal earlier was now completely gone. "Now that you know my story let me tell you about the reward I've promised" She continued while still smoking her cigarette, smoke billowing out the tip into the night sky. "And please call me Elizabeth."

Finally we can get to business, Booker thought. "Reward? I thought this 12 year old Scotch was the reward," he jokingly replied. The liquor is exquisite but he wasn't the kind of man that was picky with his drink but Booker thought she'd appreciate the humour.

Elizabeth gave out a light-hearted chuckle. "Cute, but no Mr. DeWitt, my reward actually comes in a form of an offer."

"Of course it does." He sighed and slumped back to his chair. He hated deals like these and considered walking out then and there claiming the bottle of expensive scotch as his prize. It took him a few minutes but he made up his mind. He ran his hands across his face upwards brushing his hair back and sighed heavily "Might as well hear it, so what's you offer, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth half-expected him to leave but he was now staring at her intently. Even if he did left she had other ways to convince him. "Ever since I came back from my trip, my father's remaining loyal followers expected me to lead them. Imagine the look on their faces when they found out the apple fell too far from the tree."

"I'm guessing they're weren't too thrilled either when they found out about your operations in Harlem." Booker added. He was starting to get a sense what this offer might be but he didn't want to jump to conclusions, that would make him a bad detective if he did.

"These men think they can indoctrinate me into their sick beliefs. They're calling me the Lost Lamb of Columbia, how ridiculous is that?" Elizabeth began to continue as disgust and disbelief filled her tone. "These men are willing to go through extreme lengths to get their Lost Lamb back Mr. DeWitt and that is why I need you."

"A bodyguard? I've done security detail work before but what's in it for me?" he asked. Seeing how lavish the room she was in Booker knew some serious money was about to get involved in this deal.

"I know about your debts Mr. DeWitt. Gambling debts, endless bar tabs, and you're barely keeping your office and apartment afloat with the money you're getting from your P.I. work." Elizabeth quickly answered with a hint of concern in her voice. "That is why as of today you are debt free."

Surprises just keeps on coming, Booker thought. He expected some of his debts would be involved in this deal when he received that phone call that got him here but he never expected she would've known all of them. Just how much information does this dame have on me? He wondered.

Elizabeth got off the window sill and opened the lower drawer from a nearby desk. After shuffling some papers around she produced a thick brown sealed envelope. "I understand you're a distrusting man so here's proof if you still don't believe me, Mr. DeWitt." She says tossing the envelope towards Booker.

It landed on Booker's lap with an audible slap. He fumbled around to open the sealed package and inside was neatly filed documents. A lot of these are hand written receipts from various bars, casinos, and even the loan sharks he owed money to. His jaw dropped when he saw the documents declaring that he was fully paid and up to date with his rent payment. No wonder his landlord was in such a happy mood today.

He began to examine the papers, all of them were legit. He recognized every signature and stamp used by these various people and establishments but there was one detail that every document had in common. "These are all dated yesterday..." He said under his breath.

Elizabeth seems to have heard him "You're right, Mr. DeWitt. Even if you didn't show up, you would've still received your reward."

"But why?" Booker now more curious of her intentions.

"I gambled. It's as simple as that. I guess I'm just lucky it paid off." Elizabeth replied but clearly that wasn't the answer Booker was looking for judging by the look on his face. She continued "You try to hide it but you're a good person Mr. DeWitt. You took cases to help people even if there is little to no reward and you turned down profitable yet shady offers. Even if we didn't meet, a person like you deserves merit."

"Heh, I never believed in this karma stuff but your answer sounds reasonable." Booker said now a bit more satisfied. He never thought those charity work he did for some of his clients would pay off somehow. Not really a man of religion he started to wonder if there was really a big man "upstairs" looking out for him.


PART 2

Booker shoved the papers back into the envelope, sealed the bottle of scotch, and slowly stood up. "Wait, Mr. DeWitt!" Elizabeth exclaimed obviously seeing that Booker was about to leave. "Don't worry Elizabeth. You're still waiting for my answer about your offer, right?" Elizabeth nodded, Booker smiled and said "If working for you means I can drink fancy booze and keep my worthless apartment while still being paid then I say yes." Also getting to stare at that ass all day is a perk in itself, Booker added in his head.

"Oh but you can't leave yet Mr. DeWitt! Being my personal bodyguard isn't your only responsibility, I still need to know you can finish this other job I require you for…" Her tone suddenly changed, it was half playful, half menacing, almost seducing.

"You already have my file and whatever it is you gathered about me. I'm pretty sure whatever that is it's already in there." Booker said while slowly heading for the door. For some reason he felt his gut clench and wanted to get out as fast as he can. He was about to touch the doorknob when thin black smoke plumes appeared in front of him.

It was Elizabeth, her hand now on his chest. "I insist, Mr. DeWitt. Please stay." She said with urgency. Booker jumped back a bit, he only took off his eyes away from her in just a few seconds and she was now in front of him. She's spliced? Booker thought and before he could react Elizabeth's hand glowed green.

A green wisp spiraled around her arm and formed the shape of a woman; the shape evaporated in his chest. This paralyzed him completely. He could still feel everything but his movements are no longer his own. He opened his mouth to try and say something. YOU BITCH! he tried to yell but he could only hear it in his mind, his mouth just exhaling out air.

"Don't worry, Mr. DeWitt. I won't do anything to harm you. In fact, this would be the opposite." She was on her tiptoes whispering to his ear and slowly pushed him back. Booker, not in control of his actions, tried to fight it but to no avail. When the reached the foot of the king size bed she pushed him again and unwillingly sat on the edge of the bed.

"How does it feel to not be in control this time, Mr. DeWitt? Now be a dear and strip," she mentioned coyly. Booker was baffled. This time? What does she mean? Has this happened before? he asked himself so many questions.

"You do understand I can make you do anything I want right? Anything..."

"Yes, Elizabeth. Anything…" said Booker, while he takes off his vest, his eyes still fixated on Elizabeth.

Am I in a trance? If I am, I don't mind surrendering to her anytime. Her unusual attention to me is already so seductive, Booker thought.

"Now, Mr. DeWitt, I would like you to take out your nice hard cock and start masturbating for me…" said Elizabeth, with her unwavering eyes on Booker as he takes off his apparel one by one until he is shirtless.

Now Booker unbuttoned his pants and reached inside his undergarment to pull out his erection. As he does this, he glanced at Elizabeth, whose eyes are surveying his manly physique. "Yes, just like that," she said pleasingly.

Oh my Lord, I can't seem to even fight it, he thought as he realizes he does not have any control over his body and he tried to move towards her. I want her crimson lips on my cock, right now.

Elizabeth turns her eyes to look down on Booker's cock. Oh hello there, she thought. Acting unimpressed by the sight, "Hmm... I thought your member was larger… But I suppose this will do," she comments with sarcastic disappointment. She got down and brought her face close to his erection; just enough for him to feel her warm breath.

"Now start stroking all the way up and all the way down.. Slowly, alright? And no cumming until I say so. You don't want to be punished, do you?"

Booker began to feel his body temperature rise as Elizabeth breathed against his shaft. "Ohhh," he moaned lengthily. A drop of sweat trickled down his temple while his mind went in so many circles, Possession Plasmids have been outlawed years ago, how did she even get one?… he wondered.

"Oh, yes, my mistress, you're making me…so hot right now. Do what you want with me… I am your slave," he confessed, breathing heavily. Oh, shit. Now you've brought it upon yourself, DeWitt, he thought, at this point I just want to pin her to the wall and fuck her endlessly, but I'm sure we'll get to that.

Elizabeth smiled when she heard the word 'Mistress'. "My, my Mr DeWitt. It seems to me that you're a natural at this... Your Mistress is very pleased that you already know what to call her." Every word accompanied her warm breath. She can see his shaft twitching with delight. Booker continued to stroke his member obediently and slowly transparent liquid has formed at its tip. "Looks like you're enjoying this, darling... I had no idea you were the submissive type..." said Elizabeth, looking utterly pleased at his reaction.

"Yes, love, I am enjoying this," he breathed, continuing to stroke his strong erection. As he did, so he can't help but observe the sultry aura and her distracting beauty. "My mistress, I have to confess… I've been a bad boy." he said. What the hell are you saying now, DeWitt?! And you think that's sexy? Just shut up you old bloke. You ain't shit, he told himself.

Elizabeth let out a soft laugh. She didn't realize that the Plasmid's effect would be strong enough to affect his speech. "Don't worry, Mr. DeWitt. After I'm done with you, you'll be a very good boy..." She said slowly, as she unbuttoned her white blouse revealing her supple flesh. Her breasts filled her black lace bra perfectly. Booker's eyes widened and the sight made his member harden a little more.

"Like I said earlier, I really want to know if you can finish jobs properly... Consider this encounter a test." said Elizabeth sternly. She pushed Booker back with enough force for him to fall flat on his back. He staggered when she pushed him. These will make memorable sex bruises later, he imagined. Elizabeth unzipped her skirt and revealed the rest of her lingerie. Slowly, she brought herself down, placing her crotch on Booker's face with only the thin lace underwear separating his lips from her folds.

Oh Lord, this is just really working out for me, he thought to himself. "Mhmmph," he muffled as his mouth surrendered to her; and he laid his hands on her plump bottom. As Elizabeth brushes her crotch against his stubble, he can feel her whimper in delight. His eyes quickly gazed upwards and he saw her touching herself and massaging her breasts. In attempt to please her more, he opened his mouth and brought out his tongue to intercept her glory. Sweat continued to trickle from the surface of his scalp and he began feeling hot all over his body as he watched the sultry lady turn up the steam.

"Mhmmmm!" Elizabeth moaned, biting her lower lip, resisting not to scream as Booker started to lap up her crotch. Her panties are now soaking from the mixture of Booker's spit and her wetness. She stood up to take off her panties and swayed her hips a bit to shake off some of her juices onto Booker's face. Booker watched as the wet panties were tossed aside. Ohh fuck… my lady has just taken off her underwear. That pussy is the perfect punishment for my nasty little mouth, he thought naughtily.

"Oh, you bad boy! Look at what you made me do!" she exclaimed, "You need to clean me up, Mr. DeWitt! Make sure you do not miss a spot." She lowered herself onto Booker's begging mouth and he continued to feast on Elizabeth's dripping wet pussy.

Elizabeth, now on all fours, positioned herself to face Mr. DeWitt's throbbing erection "Let's see what I can do with this pathetic little thing..." she whispered. Elizabeth started to lick the base of his shaft and slowly moving upwards. Her tongue circled around the head to the tip to get a taste of his leaking precum. That seemed to elicit a reaction from Booker as he started to suck harder on her clit. "Ahhhhhhhh!" She let out a slight scream and went back to work on Booker's manhood.

"My mistress, you taste and smell so glorious. I want to drink all that you have," he muttered,"I will not disappoint you, m'lady."

He placed his hands on her ass and groped them as he devoured the beautiful bounty placed on his mouth. He rubbed and massaged her with one hand while the other was fondling with her folds.

"Ohhh… fuck," he blurted as he flinched with desire when Elizabeth began sucking on his erection, "You're so good at this, my mistress. I've become really hard for you now. Would you kindly go deeper? Ohh...fuck..." he was trying very hard to focus on the task at hand while his body stiffens and weakens every now and then as Elizabeth goes up and down with his cock.

Elizabeth thought he wasn't big enough for her but having him inside her mouth made her think twice about what she said earlier. "Mmmpppfff!" It was all the sound she could let out as Elizabeth forced Booker's throbbing cock deeper into her mouth. Her left hand cupping his balls and the right stroking the parts of his shaft her mouth can't take in. She can feel him getting bigger with every movement.

"Oh yes! Ohhhhhh fuck! That's it! Please your mistress. Mr. DeWitt… and maybe I'll let you put your useless cock in me!" She shouted and dove back into his erection scraping her teeth a bit on his cock's underside as she took him back in. The pain was obviously enough to motivate him more as Elizabeth felt his tongue lick and twirl all over her folds and her clit.

"Ahhhhh!.. Ohhhh.. Shit! You're a lot better at this than I… Fuck!.. anticipated Mr. DeWitt…" Elizabeth rubbed her crotch harder onto his mouth to give Booker a deeper reach with his tongue. "Now I want you to let it all.. ahhhh… out… ahh.. right in my fucking mouth…" She focused her mouth back the head while his hands were busy stroking the length of his shaft, waiting for him to unload.

He sucked and licked harder into her hot and wet folds, tongue-fucking her and making her quiver. As he does it, he gives her a hard slap on her ass. "Yes, my mistress..." he grunted and moaned as her warm mouth covered all of him. "I'll give it to you now... I'm almost... yes... it's coming now, my lady, it's... ohhh!" he groaned loudly accompanied by the slow and graceful cum erupting from his erection.

Booker started filling the insides of her mouth with hot spurts of cum. Elizabeth was surprised how much there was, it started to overflow out of the sides of her mouth. Not wanting to show weakness she swallowed every drip of cum she can and scooping up the bittersweet remains with her fingers into her mouth. "Mhmmmmm... You really need to stop smoking Mr. DeWitt.. Your nectar will be sweeter that way.."

She can see his cock still erect even after letting out a huge load. Under normal circumstances he should be going soft by now but the Plasmid is keeping him hard as steel. Elizabeth thought to herself. Observing his erection she can see a small green wisp twirling around his body and manhood indicating that the Plasmid was still in effect.

"That was cute but we are not done yet Mr. DeWitt. I came here to see if you can finish the job and that's what I intend on doing." She loosened the straps of her bras letting her breasts breath more freely. Her peaks while full and heavy were still perking up; signs that she's still in her prime.

"Ohhh... my lady... you're so fucking hot... would you kindly let me inside you," he begged, with his cock still erect. Slowly she lowered her hips on Booker's crotch, who was still trying to recover from ejaculating. Good, he's still sensitive... She thought. She slid the head of his cock against her clit and finally guided it and rode him her breasts bouncing up and down. "Ohhhhhh, Mr. DeWitt! I want you to fuck me hard and make sure I cum this time!" she commanded.

Elizabeth began to ride his waiting cock and it never felt so good, "My mistress, fuckkk... ohhh ohh, you're so wet, my lady, fuck yes, I love this! ohh, " he moaned and worshipped her, groping at her breasts. He mustered his energy to sit up because he wants to suck those twins so badly while he assists her in riding with his hands grabbing her ass this time.

All of these taunts seem to be paying off. While he's still under her control she can feel thrusting harder and his cock pulsing inside her. "Ohhhhh, fuck me, Mr. DeWitt! That's it! Fuck me harder with your pathetic cock!" she blurted out with ragged breathing. Slowly Booker started to get up and leaned in closer to cup her ass while trying to get a taste of her sweat-kissed breasts.

His mouth licked and sucked her nipples, alternating between the two. The sensation was starting to take over her body. "Mhmmmmm yes! Fuck me harder, Mr. DeWitt! Make your cock useful and fuck me deeper!"

"Ohh, my lady. You're so hot. You want me to fuck you harder, huh? Do you like being fucked so hard? Am I pleasing my mistress enough or does she want more?" he said strongly against her lips, taunting, while massaging her breasts. "Ohhhhh... yes! yes! More! Give it to me more!" After a few moments, the Plasmid slightly wore off its effects. I'm finally regaining control of my body but I'll still play along. I love how she's dominating me right now, Booker thought. He pumped harder, feeling all her walls tightening its grip around him, getting wetter and wetter as he thrusts all his pelvic power inside her. Elizabeth saw the green wisp fading but she didn't care anymore. It felt it was better this way. With Booker off the "leash," she knows he can do her with all of his strength.

"Don't stop now Mr. DeWitt! Ohhhhhh fuck me! Harder! Don't you fucking dare to stop stop!" Her breath was getting heavier and heavier. She was close to her euphoria and she can feel it.

"I'm not gonna stop, love. I'm not going to stop until you get what you deserve," he gasped. In a slight pause, he quickly got up and carried her, with him still inside and puts her on the bed. "Get comfortable because I'll be all over you now, my mistress. I will fuck you so hard like you need it," he said seductively. Booker parted her legs and placed with one leg over his shoulder and he slid inside her again. Elizabeth let out a long hot groan as his member entered. She held on to the blankets, biting her lip and moaning heavier, feeling every bit of passion juicing out of her as she gives DeWitt a little bit more.

It now became obvious that Booker has fully regained control of all of his extremities. Still she managed to gain a bit of control, knowing she won't be able to cast possession again in her current state she decided to just go with it. "Come on Mr. DeWitt... Ahhh… Harder... Don't tell me you're going to cum before me again?... Fuuuck... Ahhh..." She moaned passionately, trying to stay focused even though her speech is starting to fail her.

The room filled with the sounds of slapping flesh; wet and loud it made her want him more. She started to meet his thrusts by moving her hips making more audible slaps. "Yes... ohhhh. there... I can feel it, Mr. DeWitt... Fuck me harder and finish this fucking job!" She moaned louder as the sensation started to wash all over her body, it was being imbued by a Shock Jockey for the first time. Her body twitching and tingling all over as she let more sexual sounds.

"Mistress, you're so wet for me. I love that!" he said strongly, fucking her as hard as he could, "I'm going to make you come all over my cock, love. Oh fuck! Ohhh, yes! Are you feeling it, love? Can you take this? Is this what you wanted?!" he told her firmly, thrusting harder and deeper, with his face close to hers. Her head nodding in surrender while her hands held on to this strong arms.

Elizabeth's mind was going blank, her eyes rolling back in reaction to the amount of pleasure that her "pet" is giving her. "Yes! This is it! Haahhhh... More, Mr. DeWitt! Ahhhhhh..." She closed her eyes in utter domination of her body and came. Booker did not stop thrusting just yet. How can someone so fucking gorgeous fuck me so good right now?! I want more of him! said her nasty thoughts. "Oh, fuck! My lady, ohhh fuck! I felt your juices flowing and pouring all over my fucking cock inside you," he gasped, his cock was throbbing, he had never been so turned on so much in his life, the cream of love from her wrapped around his erection. Her legs felt useless but still she tried to pull herself up closer to his face and kiss him. She started nipping on his lips and then slid her tongue inside his mouth, tasting the Oxfords he was smoking earlier. Ohh God, good God, her lips are softer than folds, you horny bastard, I love this, he confessed to himself, I can even taste my own cum from the job she did on me earlier.

They moaned in harmony while they kissed and fucked, tongues battling with each other, lip-locked under the full moon on New York. Elizabeth can still feel him thrusting but it began to slow down with deeper strokes. Their tongues clashed, trying to overpower each other. Every time their mouths met she can feel his stubble scratching on her face and she loved it. No words now, just unintelligible grunts and moans coming out of their mouths as Booker continues to thrust further inside Elizabeth.

She moved her hips a bit more to edge him closer. "Come on, Mr. DeWitt... Ahhhh... Fill this pussy... Ahh..." she purred. He passionately massaged her bottom and her legs, "I know you've weakened but I'm not done yet," he said, "Yes, love, I will fill you in with everything I've got in here. I'll give you what you deserve," he said to her firmly and Elizabeth leans in for another kiss.

She was about to climax again, Booker especially. She can hear his breathing being a lot more labored. "Now, Mr. DeWitt... Ahhhhhh.. Cum with me... Ahhhhhh..." Booker returned to his escalating rhythm and pushed harder and faster again. Elizabeth felt him carving his shape inside her; her pussy memorizing the shape and every detail of his cock.

As the thrusting progressed, hearing her moans getting louder and knowing that she is cumming made him thrust faster and deeper again bringing it up to speed until he feels the explosion about to happen,

"I'm cumming, Booker! I'm cumming! Ahhh! Ahhh! Aahhhh!"

"Ohhhh fuck! My mistress, cumming with you… now… Elizabeth! Ohhhhh!"

They both clashed into the blow of each others' liquids, DeWitt's cock burst all that he had in store inside Elizabeth. She can feel his cock emptying inside her, their juices mixing creating an overpowering smell. Despite releasing a huge load earlier, he was still able to fill her up with some of his cum spilling out of her folds. They stayed like this for a good few minutes with him still inside her. Moaning and groaning out of so much pleasure they fell in each others embrace. "Ohh my lady, I hope I was able to please your domination," he gasped.

When the sensations have slightly subsided enough for her to snap back to reality, she whispered to Booker, "Job well done, Mr. DeWitt. Looks like I can count on you on completing the job." She caught his gaze and again kissed him deeply once more.

"You only work for me, Mr. DeWitt. I own you now. Do not forget it."