Roger Carmichael’s life wasn’t special at all.  In fact, most people would agree that it was probably the most ordinary life you could possibly imagine: he didn’t have many friends; he wasn’t particularly successful with the lady-folk; he worked at a dead-end job, etc.  But all of that was about to change; everything he had come to believe about himself in his nineteen years long life was about to come crashing down upon his head.

It was a sticky-hot Friday night, and Roger was spending it the way he had spent most of his evenings that Summer: pumping his hard-earned cash into a pinball machine at the corner soda shop.  He was oblivious to his surroundings, intent on getting a new high score.

“Great balls of fire!” he exclaimed, once again failing to complete his task.

Roger sulkily turned away from the game and rattled the loose change in his pocket, trying to determine if he had enough money to play one more game and start another song on the jukebox.

Roger stopped dead in his tracks; there at the jukebox was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life.  She was busy selecting some sounds and hadn’t noticed him at all – which was the way things usually went for Roger when it came to women.  He decided to approach her, but he wanted to play it cool.  No need in her thinking he was a total spaz until she got to know him.

“Need some help?” he asked.

The girl turned to him and smiled.

“No – I think I have it under control,” she replied.

Shot down again, Roger thought to himself.

“But I could use someone to dance with,” she purred.

She grabbed him forcefully around the hips and pulled him close to her.

“You’re cute.  My name’s Devon Jacobs.  What’s yours?”

“Roger Carmichael,” he managed to squeak out.  She was seductively grinding herself against his leg, and he could feel the blood beginning to rush to various parts of his young body.

“Where’d you learn to dance like this?” he asked.

She threw her head back and laughed.

“You like it?”

“Yeah,” he choked.

The song ended but Devon stayed close to Roger.

“You have some pretty good moves too,” she said, playfully grabbing Roger’s bottom.

“Hey – this is a clean establishment!” grumbled one of the older men playing pool.

“You’re just jealous Daddy-O,” laughed Devon.

Roger let out a nervous laugh.

Devon slipped her arms around Roger and snuggled up even closer to him.

“What do you say we cut out?” she whispered in his ear.

“Um, yeah, okay.  Yeah.”

She gave him a playful nip on the ear and beckoned for him to follow her outside.  He didn’t even think about it before following her like an obedient dog.  He didn’t know what had come over him and if the truth was to be told, he wasn’t even concerned.  A woman – a beautiful woman – wanted him!  At that moment, that was all that mattered.

He followed her to her car, watching her shapely form sway in front of him.  The humid night air did something to him, and now he found himself wondering why Devon wanted him so bad.

“Stop,” he said.

Devon turned to him and put her hands on her round hips.

“What?  You gettin’ cold feet?”

“No, um…” but he couldn’t find the words.  What if she was an axe murderer?  An evil (albeit smoking hot) alien bent on world domination?  A Communist?  His heart was in his throat.  And, this was the worst of all, what if he didn’t live up to her expectations?

Devon sensed his insecurities, and put her arms around him.

“Don’t be scared Roger.  I’ll take care of you.”

She was smiling, and she was so beautiful, that he couldn’t help but smile back.

They began to kiss, and Roger’s mind clouded over as he let his hands roam the curves of her body.

“Let’s go,” she said, pulling away.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

They drove for a while, and finally Devon pulled the car up to a townhouse in the middle of the city.

“Come inside,” she said, and took his hand.

When they got to the door, Roger could feel his nervousness returning.

“Why me?” he asked, stopping in the open doorway.

“Because, I could tell what kind of person you are.  What kind of man you are… you’re a strong, sensitive man…” she said slowly, while rubbing her hands over Roger’s shoulders and following to his chest and stomach.  “You’re the kind of man I want tonight,” she continued, and let her hands come to rest on his belt buckle.  She gave it a quick jerk and pulled Roger into the townhouse; he couldn’t refuse – the blood was pounding in his ears and he was having trouble breathing.

Devon led Roger to the sofa and threw herself on top of him.  She was kissing him hard, and he could taste blood from where her teeth had nicked the inside of his lip.  He wasn’t in pain though – at least, not enough to make her stop.  And he didn’t think he could stop her even if he wanted to – she was very strong for a girl.  She was holding herself up and was somehow still on top of him.  And she was holding him up as well.  If Roger had thought about it, he would have realized how odd it was that a one hundred and twenty odd pound female could support both his and her weight.

They were kissing each other with such passion that they didn’t hear the other woman come down the stairs.  It wasn’t until she cleared her throat for a fifth time did they finally notice she was there.

“Oh Starla!” exclaimed Devon, and quickly rushed over to the blond.  “I didn’t realize you were home,” she said.

“It seems one of us managed to find something, or should I say, someone?, to do this evening.”  Starla gave a quick look to Roger and then smiled at Devon.  “Are you going to introduce me to your new friend Devon?”

Devon smiled and grabbed Roger’s hand.

“This is Roger Carmichael.  Roger, this is my roommate, Starla London.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Starla.

“You too… well, ahem – I guess I should be going.”

“No – you don’t have to go!” said Devon.

“Of course not,” giggled Starla.  “In fact, I was wondering if I could join you.”

Roger looked up from where his eyes had glued themselves to the floor in mortification and had to restrain himself from wiping them, as he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Starla had leaned in close to Devon, and the two women brought their lips together.  When they pulled away, they still had their arms around each other.  They looked to Roger and Devon winked.

“So, what do you say Roger,” she purred, “want to join us?”

Jackpot, thought Roger.

“Oh yeah,” he replied.

Roger followed Devon and Starla upstairs to the bedroom.  Together they stripped him down to his underclothes and then got undressed themselves.  Roger couldn’t believe what was happening.  Just twenty four hours earlier he had been a lonely virgin – and now he was about to make it with two women… at the same time.  He felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

Starla and Devon took turns kissing Roger and each other.  They were quite aggressive in their approach, and a few times Roger thought he could feel their teeth breaking his skin.  So they’re a little wild, he thought to himself, there’s no reason to stop them.

And for a brief moment, when the light was just right, Roger could have sworn that the two woman had fangs.  It must just be a trick of the light, he reasoned.

When it was over (which wasn’t long considering Roger’s lack of sexual experience), Roger fell asleep.

“We wore him out,” giggled Devon.

Starla let out a boisterous laugh.  “You’d be tired too if you’d just lost about three pints of blood.  Now let’s go to bed – it’s almost sunrise.”

Devon insisted in tucking Roger into bed before heading off to her morning slumber with Starla.  He slept quite well in spite of the fact that his dreams were filled with disturbing images of giant mosquitoes.

In the morning he woke up, and finding the note Starla had left saying for him to show himself out, he did just that.

When the taxi dropped him off at his apartment, he headed for the shower.  When he was clean, he wrapped his towel around his waist and looked at himself in the mirror.

“I could have sworn they bit me,” he said aloud.  He checked himself over and could find no evidence that such a thing had happened.  He felt weak and his head was spinning.  He stumbled into his small kitchen and fixed himself a quick bite to eat.  After eating three bowls of cereal and downing an entire carton of orange juice, he fell into bed and didn’t wake up until it was time for him to go to work.

Roger was a busboy at a small hamburger joint in the city.  It was only a block away from the soda shop he had donated so much of his earnings to that Summer.  Normally when he left work in the evening, he would make a quick change of clothes in the bathroom (because nobody wanted to spend the evening smelling like fries if they didn’t have to) and head off to spend the rest of evening trying his best to defeat the pinball machine.

He wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to spend another evening like that ever again, considering how he had spent his previous night.  He was elbow-deep in a sink of greasy dishwater, trying to decide between another lonely evening losing his money or whether he should try to live up to the reputation he had given himself as a ladies man, when his boss came into the back room.

“Roger, there’s a lady out here to see you,” said Mr. Jack, the head cook and owner of  Mandy’s Cheesesteaks and Cheeseburgers.

Noting the look of surprise on his boss’s face, Roger dried his hands on his apron and followed the old man into the main part of the restaurant.

Standing at the far end of the room was Devon Jacobs, and Roger realized that he would probably never spend another lonely evening in front of the pinball machine.

Roger crossed the room and smiled at Devon.

“What’s buzzin’, cuzzin’?,” she asked and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Hey Devon.  What brings you here?”

“You, of course,” she giggled.  He almost swooned.  “Whatcha doin’ this evening?” she asked coyly.

Play hard to get, thought Roger.

“Going out with you,” he answered.

Yeah – just like that, he said to himself sarcastically.

Devon leaned in close to Roger and smiled a wicked smile.  “I was hoping you’d say that.  I’ll pick you up later.”

She gave him another quick kiss and left the building.

“Who was that?” asked Mandy, Jack’s daughter (whom he had named the restaurant after).

“My girlfriend,” replied Roger in a daze.

“Hmph, I thought you were single,” she replied.

“Not anymore.”

Once upon a time Roger had had a crush on Mandy, and it was after the multiple spurning of his advances that he had become a pinball addict.

“Carmichael!  Get back to work!” yelled Mr. Jack, snapping Roger back into reality.

Four hours later when the last dish had been washed, the grills cleaned, and the soda dispensers left to soak in bleach water, Roger folded his apron over the hook and ran outside to Devon’s waiting car.

They pulled up to the townhouse and Roger began sliding his hand up Devon’s leg.

“Not now,” she said, slapping him away.  “Come inside.  Starla and I have something to discuss with you.”

Shit, thought Roger.

Roger sat down on the sofa and Devon sat next to him.

“Hello Roger,” said Starla as she came down the stairs.

“Hey Starla.”

“Devon and I have a little proposition for you.  How would you like to work for us?”

“Huh?” Roger asked dumbly.

“Work.  For us.  Seriously Devon – I thought you said he was smart,” Starla said as she rolled her eyes.

“He is smart,” replied Devon.  She slid closer to Roger and smiled at him as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

“We’re busy ladies,” she purred.  “We need someone to come in every few days and take care of things around the house for us.”

“Why can’t you two do it?” he asked dumbly.

“Gah!  We are gone during the day!  Devon – I am losing my patience with this one!”

“Roger…” Devon began.

But it was too late – Starla had indeed lost her patience.

“Look into my eyes you stupid son-of-a-bitch,” she growled.  “You are going to come to this house four days a week and clean.  You will check the mail.  You will take out the garbage.  Any errands that need to be run – YOU will run them.  And you will do all of it without payment.”

“Starla, we agreed!”

“No, Devon.  That was before.  But now I’m angry – so we’re doing this MY way.  Nod if you understand Roger.”

Roger nodded.

“Let’s have some fun now,” Devon growled, digging her nails into Roger’s shoulder.

The next morning, Roger remembered agreeing to helping Devon and Starla around the house.  And as he gathered his clothes, he wished he could remember how his boxers were torn to shreds.

Over the course of the year Roger did as he was instructed.  He cleaned, he checked the mail, he raked the leaves, he carried out the garbage.  Devon and Starla never paid him with money, but his services with compensated handsomely with favors of a sexual nature.  And although he didn’t really have the savings to do so, he quit his job at Mandy’s so he would have more time to take care of the odds and ends at the townhouse.

Then one afternoon, after picking up Devon and Starla’s clothes from the laundromat, he noticed a small chain hanging from the ceiling upstairs.

Wonder what kind of secrets they have up there?, Roger asked himself.

Pulling the chain, a staircase came sliding down from the attic.

Roger climbed the stairway slowly, and reaching the top, tried to get a good look before lifting himself into the dark space.

He stumbled a few feet before knocking his forehead against a light hanging from the ceiling.

“Ow!”

He pulled the small chain and gazed upon the boxes thrown haphazardly in the corner.

“Man, they have a lot of junk,” he said quietly.

He turned around to inspect the far corner of the room and his breath caught in his throat.

Devon and Starla lay side by side on a stack of mats, sleeping peacefully.  Roger’s mind was racing.

They have a bedroom, why the hell are they sleeping up here?

He approached the women slowly, guessing that if he disturbed their slumber, Starla would be less than pleased.

Roger touched Devon’s hand, and pulled away quickly.  She was as cold as ice.

“Devon?” he asked quietly.

But she didn’t respond.  He reached out and shook her.  Still no response.  Then he noticed that neither woman was breathing.

“Oh God!  They’re DEAD!”

He inspected their bodies for evidence of foul play and found none.  His bowels turned to water, and he rushed down the attic stair to make it to the bathroom in time.

When he was finished, he went to the sofa and sat down heavily.

“Dead,” he said again.

Who would do such a thing?  How long have they been dead?

Roger hadn’t seen or heard from either woman in over a week.

A week dead.

Slowly it began to occur to Roger that whoever killed Devon and Starla had set it up so it would look like he was the murderer.

“Oh my God!” he cried.

He buried his face in his hands and tried to calm himself down.

What am I going to tell the cops?

He was so busy trying to come up with an alibi that he didn’t notice the two “murder victims” coming down the stairs.

“You’re still here,” said Starla.

Roger screamed and jumped up from the couch.  His brain wanted to explode from the confusion of it all.

“You – you’re dead!  I saw you!  Both of you!”

“Obviously you were mistaken,” growled Starla.

“What do you mean ‘you saw us’?” asked Devon at the same time.

“In the attic!  I saw the two of you!  You were both dead!”

“Oh shit,” said Starla, slapping her palm to her forehead.

Devon stepped forward and tried to calm Roger down.

“Roger, as you can see, we are not dead.”

She made to put her arms around him but he pushed her away.  The light was playing tricks on him again.  Devon’s teeth looked long and sharp.

“Well, if you’re not dead, then what the hell is going on?”

“Roger, let me explain – ” Devon began.

But Starla interrupted her.

“I knew he was going to be trouble.  We have only once choice Devon.”

Roger began to shake with fear as he noticed how the light made Starla’s eyes look red.

Blood red.

He was powerless against them.

“Do we turn him or just kill him?” Devon asked.

“I say kill him,” replied Starla.

“But he could prove useful.  He has the potential to be quite powerful.”

Starla rolled her eyes.

“Fine.  We’ll turn him.  But let’s do it soon – I’m famished.”

The two vampires took turns feasting on Roger.

“Hurry up Devon!”

“Mokay mime murryming!”

Before they had drained him completely, Starla drew her fangs across Devon’s arm and then her own, and they forced their own blood into Roger’s mouth.

He promptly fainted from fear and weakness.

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Sim Goddess



Welcome to my blog! My name is Robin and I have been playing The Sims 2 since it was first released (September 13 2004 - technically it came out on the 14, but I had preordered it from EB Games so I got it a day early). Before that, I had been playing original Sims game since... 2000? 2001? I'm not quite sure, but I do remember having to wait for Hot Date to be released. So yeah, I've been playing Sims for years.

This blog, Shadows and Blood, is the home of my legacy (and sometimes some real life stuff too). What is a legacy? Oh, just look at my "Site-ations" list and you'll find a link. I don't have a link to the official site because it fails and I am against it (hence putting my story here, rather than on my Simpage).

So yeah, sit back and read my story. Tell me what you think (unless you think it blows - in that case, don't let the browser hit you in the ass on the way out... jk) or just stop by and say hello. Unlike my Sims, I don't bite.

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