So there I was, walking about in New Reno, minding my business by poking my nose in other peoples affairs as usual. I was a hot, barely legal chick with all her 'confrontation' training invested into her hands (180%). Snooping around in the Shark Club of New Reno, I got to talking with Ms. Bishop. To my surprise and delight, she invited me to her chambers for some drinks, which led to some lesbian teen-on-MILF seckse. The bitch quickly fell asleep and I tried to leave unnoticed, but Mr. Bishop wouldn't have it, and started the commotion that would quckly lead to the downfall of him and his entire family.
I wringed his cock with my powerfist - not because I didn't get 95% on the eyes but because I enjoyed it - and removed his genes and life from the human pool in just one quick twist. The guys he paid for companionship soon met with the same fate. As I descended the stairs, the now unemployed Bishop cronies started attacking me on the second floor, running ignorantly towards their ultimate demise. I especially enjoyed power-fisting the bishop daughter, and cursed over that she died so quickly, when I had so much to give.
Anyway, on the street level floor, I continued with clearing out every hostile being. Funny thing was that the casino girls, who had been completely safe from all lines of fire, started ganging up on and attacking their few faithful customers; the casino patrons, while the big, fat suits out front got into an argument of their own with some surrounding prostitutes.
When the mess was over, it dawned to me that perhaps I had been too determined and narrow minded in my cause to stop to think about the philosophical perspectives of the bouncers in their conflict with the prostitutes. After some serious thought, I decided to take their part in honor of their memory. Thus it was that I decided to take on the quest to kill every prostitute on virgin street by punching them in the cunt, collecting a small karma boost for each mutilated whore. This was my duty, nay, my calling - being a female teen myself I felt utterly disgusted over the eternal whorery of my brethren. I proceeded with my new quest, and threw in the occasional power or hook kick for added pleasure. Them hookers were too busy with just being filthy whores to recognize my pattern - I would off a hooker, end combat, approach the next hooker, repeat.
There was a particulary high concentration of hoes asking for dicipline outside the Mordinos hangout. (Alas, I was too slow to catch the screen when Marcus told me "Shit, it looks like you're outnumbered!")
The lesson we've learned here is that, contrary to popular belief, fisting hookers to death is good for your karma.
I wringed his cock with my powerfist - not because I didn't get 95% on the eyes but because I enjoyed it - and removed his genes and life from the human pool in just one quick twist. The guys he paid for companionship soon met with the same fate. As I descended the stairs, the now unemployed Bishop cronies started attacking me on the second floor, running ignorantly towards their ultimate demise. I especially enjoyed power-fisting the bishop daughter, and cursed over that she died so quickly, when I had so much to give.
Anyway, on the street level floor, I continued with clearing out every hostile being. Funny thing was that the casino girls, who had been completely safe from all lines of fire, started ganging up on and attacking their few faithful customers; the casino patrons, while the big, fat suits out front got into an argument of their own with some surrounding prostitutes.
When the mess was over, it dawned to me that perhaps I had been too determined and narrow minded in my cause to stop to think about the philosophical perspectives of the bouncers in their conflict with the prostitutes. After some serious thought, I decided to take their part in honor of their memory. Thus it was that I decided to take on the quest to kill every prostitute on virgin street by punching them in the cunt, collecting a small karma boost for each mutilated whore. This was my duty, nay, my calling - being a female teen myself I felt utterly disgusted over the eternal whorery of my brethren. I proceeded with my new quest, and threw in the occasional power or hook kick for added pleasure. Them hookers were too busy with just being filthy whores to recognize my pattern - I would off a hooker, end combat, approach the next hooker, repeat.
There was a particulary high concentration of hoes asking for dicipline outside the Mordinos hangout. (Alas, I was too slow to catch the screen when Marcus told me "Shit, it looks like you're outnumbered!")
The lesson we've learned here is that, contrary to popular belief, fisting hookers to death is good for your karma.
