Bitch Squad

 

 The Scene...inside                    
             Sealie Rose
The Sexually Savvy Sealie Rose is seeking lovers promising enough to explore physical retreats complete with emotional games, obscene foreplay, side bar humiliation and orgasms a plenty.  Just make sure you keep her satisfied, the dual dominatrix/sex slave plots murder as revenge....

.....There was a time, when Evelyn, aka Sealie Rose, II, was what one might call good.   Time spoiled her like ripe fruit left too long in a basket.  Evelyn was now a cold hearted bitch!  She was never abused, but the woman had seen abuse over and over again.  Foster home, after foster home, beatings, molestations, drug abuse, theft, murder, prostitution, and all before the age of 13, and still she watched it on TV, saw it in the news, read it in newspapers, and heard it in gossip.  She just decided, she wouldn't be the one to receive or observe the pain any more, but instead would be the giver of pain.  It became entertainment. 

 

In many ways, some might consider this a fair shake for someone you'd expect to be completely abnormal, at least she knows what she's doing.  Her coping mechanism was to create pain, this allowed her to never deal with her true emotions.  She found great pleasure in hurting people.  It made her feel strong.  This was her sanity, her normality.  She hurt people with her lies, her sex, her money, and even her tears, which were really a poisonous clear acid, dissolving any immunity one had.  It was her secret weapon, her beauty, complimented by tears.  

Evelyn had no intentions of going back to see Mrs. Rose.  The rose Evelyn gave her would be the last she hoped Sealie, the first, would ever see.  As soon as she leaned into it, and sniffed it as if it were a cocaine addiction, death would be upon her.  Evelyn had coated it with dust and pollen allergens that would cause Mrs. Rose to catch a cough and die.  Her severe asthma and recent pneumonia recovery should make her defenseless.  Soon Evelyn would spend, spend, spend and never have to see the old woman again, which was more of her concern than the money.   She drove a navy blue mustang convertible, her hair blew in the wind, as she pulled onto the road's entrance, paused for the cars going by and phoned the Reverend Preacher.  

"Reverend Bide, please." 

"One moment," answered the voice.  She continues driving.

"Reverend Bide speaking." 

"How would you like me, a sinner or a saint?"  

"You!" He shouted, and then muffled his voice.

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Sealie Rose
Sealie Rose

Darlene M. Washington
DMWBooks.com/DMW Publishing
219-292-2341 
800-268-7126