ISADORA II

Created by SHEPHERD AKARA ©

SKYBREED ENT ©

....

Isadora's legs still hurt. She felt as though a drill had swirled its way through her womb. Images of last night were still fresh in her light head.

The long lasting tipsiness of the champagne delicacy was impossible to fade away.

The sheets were still sticky, still drenched in the Don's flood of semen, what a unique sensation that had been.

For the first time in many years, the primadonna felt satisfied. Yet, guilt, nostalgia and self blame overwhelmed her.

"What was I thinking?" the primadonna said to herself.

"Was I drugged? How could I have shared Montovani's bed? This could ruin everything."

There was a piece of jewelry twinkling mildly under the sheets. Isadora reached for it with curious hands.

It belonged to Di Mecurio, a sophisticated diamond ring.

"Weird", the daughter of Cavendish muttered.

"He never takes this off. A gift?"

She fit her finger into the ring; it buzzed with robotic octaves.

"Or a curse? What game are you playing Di Mecurio?"

Her weak legs staggered her body toward the tall mirror and her reflection got her astonished. That charming halo was all gone, that gloss in her red hair had dulled.

The irresistible glare in her green eyes had somehow mysteriously vanished with her eyeballs so hollow. She disrobed and glared at her nakedness for long minutes.

Everything still stood where it should be, the perfectly shaped breasts, the flat tummy and slender waist, the nice shaped butt.

She ran a finger down her clean shaven gate and stroked it, relishing in the sweet sore pain that the Don had evoked.

A knock on the door should have made her cover her nakedness but Isadora was one to let the whole world stare at her perfection.

"Come on in," she murmured with a low key.

The door creaked open, the primadonna felt a chilly sensation when she saw Valeria's reflection behind her in the mirror.

"Mrs. Montovani," she called out softly.

The least Isadora could do after dishonouring the Don's bride by stealing her bed was to dishonour her even more by displaying her nakedness.

Flaunting her sinful body to the poor lady would be taunting.

The redhead crouched to grab her bathrobe but reaching back up, her eyes could not miss the pointy end of the rifle behind her head.

Confused, Isadora gasped.

"Why?" shrilled Di Mecurio's wife.

There was barely enough time to blink before

Valeria pulled the trigger.

The loud bang echoed! The speeding bullet smashed through the mirror.

The jingling sound of shattered glass reverberated round the room.

It was a rain of glass.

The debris cut, stung and pierced Isadora's sacred body; defying her perfection, leaving tiny blood droplets.

But the redhead had always been a swift clever girl, so the Duke of Devonshire had trained all his kids to be.

It's what earned her a black belt in three various forms of martial arts.

Isadora had dodged the speeding bullet by conditioned reflex.

She pounced on her feet with feline agility and braced for the second attack.

Valeria aimed, teary eyed, hatred emanating from them, envy discolouring them, highlighting a deep dark purple.

With an agonizing scream, Valeria fired again.

But the Cavendish royal was uncannily quick.

Isadora leaped in the air and tilted backwards in a series of backflips, narrowly evading the gunfire.

But that did not hinder her assailant.

Valeria kept firing but somehow, she just seemed to miss.

Finally Isadora accepted Valeria's terms of battle.

Her heart beat faster when she understood the implications.

The primadonna finalized her series of flips with a high leaping moonsault. Her bare feet perched on the chilly tiles like a mantis.

But Valeria was relentless, she kept shooting, screaming, crying, "Why? You selfish whore!"

Isadora's evasive maneuvers were one of a kind.

Impressively ducking, dodging and hiding, she evoked a weakening frustration in Valeria.

A master strategist, the Cavendish heir predicted Valeria's every move.

A long range battle would keep Montovani's bride at the advantage.

The primadonna would need to brawl at close range where her hand-to-hand combat skills would prevail.

But she needed one thing; a diversion.

The brunette startled her opponent with a fiendish succession of fires; the whole floor, decorated with bullets.

Isadora took shelter behind a steel table.

The bullets bounced back when they struck against steel.

Her powerful mind kept searching for an idea until it found one.

Scanning the velvet gown beside her, the one she had worn on the previous night, brightened the primadonna's face with hope.

She calculated the distance between herself and the shooting Valeria, six yards.

Once, Isadora had timed herself; 3 seconds in six yards only she had made the run with both feet on the ground.

The floor was covered with tiny glass debris. They'd impale her tender feet if she made the run. But that wouldn't quell her plan, would it?

No one's desperation to survive matched Isadora's. Nobody's Willpower bore the irresistible force of hers.

The wall was an alternative. But running on the wall would take nearly twice the amount of time running on the floor would.

She had to be quick and decisive.

Her stomach hurt with fright, her prickled body was numb with pain but the redhead remembered her training;

"Channel all that negative energy to your mind," sensei had tutored her, back at the Eastern institution.

Isadora flicked her fingers randomly and suddenly, as if by mystics, the Don's Diamond ring degenerated into a six inched dragon claw ring.

It harnessed the power of nanotechnology; its blade beaming gold.

The ring shrieked mildly when it moved with robotic effect.

"Would you look at that?" Isadora whispered to herself in dismay.

The primadonna took a deep breath of courage, bravery inflating her lungs.

She would execute her daring plan, not ignorant of the fact that one slip could cost her her very life.

The sound of the loud banging gun was mute in her head. The tipsiness made it all feel in slow motion.

Isadora flung the red gown into the air, Valeria fired at it, mercilessly, giving Isadora the opening she desired -- the distraction.

With unbelievable speed, the red head engaged on a gravity defiant run, sprinting on the marble walls with bare feet.

Valeria gasped at the sight, Isadora possessed the air of a wrathful goddess.

Di Mercurio's bride attempted one last aim at the airborne Isadora but the clumsiness of her hands were no match for the pace of Isadora's feet.

The claw ring hissed in the air when Isadora swiped her "paw". The impact was fatal!

Created by SHEPHERD AKARA ©

SKYBREED ENT ©