Post by vastrix on Jan 20, 2022 22:58:28 GMT -5
At a nightclub in Las Vegas, Isabella von Krauss is the center of attention on the dance floor in a skimpy dress that shows more skin than it has material. All the men and a few women vie for her attention, but she gives none of it. Unless, you are buying her a drink.
A waitress comes through with a tray of shots for Isabella and a few of the other women around. Isabella accepts her shot, downs it, and places the shot glass back onto the tray. She looks over to the man at the bar who bought it with a grin and motions for him to come over with a finger.
He comes right over and she turns right around to begin grinding against his pelvis.
Isabella von Krauss: Can you believe that David Berg was kicked out of his country because he lost to a German? It’s so fucking funny that I can’t really talk about it lest I might explode.
The man scratches his head in a little confusion, but tries to play along.
Man: Yeah. It must be a shame to lose to a German. Are you German?
Isabella von Krauss: Have you heard my name? Of course I’m German!
Man: Umm. Of course I’ve heard your name. It’s a lovely name.
Isabella turns around and looks at the man closely. Something in his voice tells her that he doesn’t even know her name.
Isabella von Krauss: You do know my name, right?
Man: Well…do you know mine?
Isabella von Krauss: Tristian Thompson. Of course I know who you are. Who am I?
Tristian Thompson: Well…not really, but you’re really hot. You wanna go fuck? I got a suite in town.
Isabella smiles and then licks her lips, noticing the bulge in Tristian’s pants.
Isabella von Krauss: My name is Isabella von Krauss.
Suddenly, Tristian is looking a little nervous.
Tristian Thompson: As in?
Isabella von Krauss: As in the daughter of Armand and Esmeralda von Krauss.
Tristian swallows hard, but then smiles big. Maybe too big.
Tristian Thompson: Well, my offer stands. I would love to fuck a von Krauss.
Isabella von Krauss: Okay.
Tristian Thompson stands a little dumbfounded. He clearly did not expect this as an answer.
Tristian Thompson: Okay?
Isabella von Krauss: Yep. Just…
Isabella grabs Tristian by the shoulders and brings up her knee into his crotch with a hard enough impact that people nearby stop dancing and wince in pain. Tristian’s jaw hangs open, a pitiful squeak escaping his lips.
Isabella von Krauss: That was for not knowing my name, you dirty perv!
She grabs him by the shoulders and knees him in the nuts again.
Isabella von Krauss: And this is for Khloe Kardashian!
Tristian falls to his knees and then to his side where he curls up into a ball while crying.
Isabella von Krauss: I know I should probably talk about my upcoming match, but I could give two shits. Everyone have another round on this guy!
She reaches down to Tristian and takes his wallet, tossing all of cash inside to the waitress.
Isabella von Krauss: Drinks for me and all my friends!
The people around her cheer as Isabella goes back to dancing. Tristian stays on the floor, coughing up blood as we fade to black.
A waitress comes through with a tray of shots for Isabella and a few of the other women around. Isabella accepts her shot, downs it, and places the shot glass back onto the tray. She looks over to the man at the bar who bought it with a grin and motions for him to come over with a finger.
He comes right over and she turns right around to begin grinding against his pelvis.
Isabella von Krauss: Can you believe that David Berg was kicked out of his country because he lost to a German? It’s so fucking funny that I can’t really talk about it lest I might explode.
The man scratches his head in a little confusion, but tries to play along.
Man: Yeah. It must be a shame to lose to a German. Are you German?
Isabella von Krauss: Have you heard my name? Of course I’m German!
Man: Umm. Of course I’ve heard your name. It’s a lovely name.
Isabella turns around and looks at the man closely. Something in his voice tells her that he doesn’t even know her name.
Isabella von Krauss: You do know my name, right?
Man: Well…do you know mine?
Isabella von Krauss: Tristian Thompson. Of course I know who you are. Who am I?
Tristian Thompson: Well…not really, but you’re really hot. You wanna go fuck? I got a suite in town.
Isabella smiles and then licks her lips, noticing the bulge in Tristian’s pants.
Isabella von Krauss: My name is Isabella von Krauss.
Suddenly, Tristian is looking a little nervous.
Tristian Thompson: As in?
Isabella von Krauss: As in the daughter of Armand and Esmeralda von Krauss.
Tristian swallows hard, but then smiles big. Maybe too big.
Tristian Thompson: Well, my offer stands. I would love to fuck a von Krauss.
Isabella von Krauss: Okay.
Tristian Thompson stands a little dumbfounded. He clearly did not expect this as an answer.
Tristian Thompson: Okay?
Isabella von Krauss: Yep. Just…
Isabella grabs Tristian by the shoulders and brings up her knee into his crotch with a hard enough impact that people nearby stop dancing and wince in pain. Tristian’s jaw hangs open, a pitiful squeak escaping his lips.
Isabella von Krauss: That was for not knowing my name, you dirty perv!
She grabs him by the shoulders and knees him in the nuts again.
Isabella von Krauss: And this is for Khloe Kardashian!
Tristian falls to his knees and then to his side where he curls up into a ball while crying.
Isabella von Krauss: I know I should probably talk about my upcoming match, but I could give two shits. Everyone have another round on this guy!
She reaches down to Tristian and takes his wallet, tossing all of cash inside to the waitress.
Isabella von Krauss: Drinks for me and all my friends!
The people around her cheer as Isabella goes back to dancing. Tristian stays on the floor, coughing up blood as we fade to black.
