Kinks: gun play, non-con
Top: Frankie
Bottom: Georgia (Gee)
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The streetlights in Belleville flicker, and then decide to end their cycle of repetition by staying off. Only 4-5 minutes later do they relight, and start the cycle again.
This is a bad part of town, that much is undeniable: the cops are here all the time, the streets are strewn with bottles, and Georgia is on edge.
This is exactly the situation that every girl has been taught to avoid; don't take a drink from a stranger, park under a streetlight, hold your keys in between your fingers, safety in numbers. Georgia, Gee to her friends, has already broken the drink rule because she had no more money left to buy it herself, and that club was too fun to leave without a buzz. The woman who got it for her was hot as anything, and it isn't the liquor talking. Jet black hair in a spiky pixie cut, tattoos everywhere the eye can see and where the eye can't. But no. Georgia hasn't been low enough for one night stands in a while.
Slightly tipsy, Gee steps over the curb and into a puddle. She giggles, and keeps walking across the street, the sounds of music and laughter fading behind her.
Standing next to her old Camry, trying to unlock the door, she hears something. It's slower for her, because of the alcohol, but still distinct. The click of high heels on pavement.
"Aren't you going to thank me for the drink?" the voice from the shadows asked. The spiky haired woman from earlier stepped into the shuddering streetlight's glow, showcasing her the slight iridescence in her burgundy dress.
"Oh, it's you again! Thanks..um.." Georgia says, stumbling on her words and lost for the other woman's name.
"You can call me Frankie. And you are?"
"I'm Georgia, like the peach." At this, Georgia starts laughing, which in turn causes Frankie to laugh.
"God, you're too easy. Only a few drinks and you're barely standing," Frankie mumbled under her breath. She has pills in her purse, but she didn't need to use them tonight.
"So, Georgia, can I talk to you for a bit? Over here?" She motions to a brick alleyway behind her.
Georgia shrugs, and turns to bumble towards the wall. Frankie takes the moment to reach into her neckline, and pull out her handgun, safety still on.
"Hey peach, I have a surprise for you," the now armed woman cooes, approaching Georgia, successfully backing her into a metal gate at the end of the alleyway.
The sigh of the shiny Desert Eagle seems to shake some awareness into the trapped girl, as she frantically looks around her for an escape.
"Now, is that any way to treat someone who's been so nice to you? I bought you drinks, I didn't bother you inside, and I haven't laid a finger on you." Frankie, enjoying teasing her victim, grins ferally at the look of terror plastered on her face.
"Please don't do this. You can take whatever you want, just don't do this," Georgia pleads, tears sliding down her red cheeks. But her pleads are falling on deaf ears.
"That's what I plan on doing, silly. I want you," she states. "And I will take you."
Gee just trembles, unintelligible mumbles falling from her red velvet painted lips. She can't do this. She can't think she'll get away..can she?
"Aw c'mon. You know this will be fun, my slutty peach. No need to try and run." She cocks her gun, the sound making Georgia flinch, terrified. "You're not leaving here anytime soon."
Georgia continues to plead for her life, her safety, her escape. But there's nothing that she can give Frankie in order to escape, except for the one thing she wants, the one person. The one reason she's hyperventilating against a chain link fence with a stranger pointing a gun at her. Summoning her courage, she submits. "F-fine. Just..just let me go. You can have w-what you want." She practically gags, thinking about what's going to happen to her.
