Whitzz/544K-RP-Datasets huggingface dataset:
Thread: The Lone Ranger [Temptationist x Master Machiavelli]

I could hear the low growl of the V-twin engine as well... definitely a motorcycle and I look at you impassively after you kick me in the shin and you turn and head out of the barn. It could be anyone- it was a nice enough day and more and more 'civilians', dentists, doctors and the like were riding Harley's these days. I draw my Colt .45 from the shoulder holster I'm wearing under my leather jacket and manage to pull my leg out from under my wrecked bike. It looks a mess and were it a horse, I'd probably put a bullet in its brain pan to put it out of misery. I keep low, crouching and favoring my uninjured leg, waiting and watching. My pant leg's stained in blood and I know I've got a pretty good gash from the crash, but now's not the time to deal with it. The engine noise is racing away and I watch somewhat surprised as you stand in the middle of the road and bring the weapon expertly to your shoulder and fire. I can still hear the bike, no crash so either you missed, or you weren't aiming for the bike or rider. You don't seem the killing type. 'Hell's Angel' Who the fuck are you calling a Hell's Angel. Fuck those corporate pussies. You swing the rifle up and fire, catching me off guard and you seem unaware of the fact that I'm armed as well. Now you've fired your round and I'm on my feet like a feral dog, rushing you, oblivious to the pain in my leg- the adrenaline has taken care of that or the possibility that you might get a second shot off. You can clearly see murder and fury in my eyes and on my face. This isn't the first time someone's fired a gun at me and certainly won't be the last. My hand wraps around the barrel and I hold tightly, shoving it back hard into your shoulder and away from my body, not letting go as my pistol moves hard and fast for the center of your chest, my finger alongside the rail and not yet on the trigger. My voice is filled with venom and violence- sure I'm from the city, but not a place a country girl like you would ever see. I told you to point that fucking piece somewhere else before one of us got hurt. I'm pissed and I doubt, in your soon to be short lifespan, you've ever seen someone as ready to kill . How in the FUCK should I know? I'm shouting- not really giving a shit about your 'tough girl' act. You've got nothing on biker chicks. I have no fucking idea who you just took a shot at, but if he's the dude who fucked with my bike he was probably making sure I was dead. My pistol is now pressed between your perfect, firm breasts and I'm digging the muzzle into your chest. Drop the fucking rifle- we're going to both quit the gun play. Understand sweetheart? I'm not going to tell you again.
Thread: The Lone Ranger [Temptationist x Master Machiavelli]

As you pulled out the gun I had literally... absolutely... no reaction. The facial expression on my face went from a firm grimace to a... firm grimace, because nothing had changed. It was as if I was completely used to these kind of situations, where I'm being threatened by a gun. My eyes didn't even so much as jitter as you stepped forward and placed the gun to my chest. They remained fixated on your blue eyes. As the gun slid to in between my breasts, my eyes narrowed to stare you dead in the face. I could sense the tension, but here in the country I was used to fighting for dominance, giving the unspoken consensus that men were above women. My silence was a form of challenging you testing your patience but as well listening to your every word. I didn't have the gun pointed to you, since I often seemed clumsy with the rifle - though I was not. I was an excellent shooter, and I didn't need to have a fun raised and prepared to fire a good shot. Hence, the gun was hanging by my side, finger ready on the trigger. Finally, after a moment of wicked silence, my lips curled into a questionable grin. Didn't your Momma ever teach you to watch your language? I see your lips movin', but I'm not hearing any words. Coincidentally, I wasn't as classy as most country girls were, but it was because I grew up in a male-dominated family with 8 brothers, so I learned to keep my head up. I quickly turned around, not being phased by the pointed gun. Moving towards to hole in the barn, I paused after taking several steps forward and shifted slightly to look at you from over my shoulder. My light eyes looked you up and down, noticing the bleeding leg of yours. I just need you to understand somethin'... My voice had softened greatly, almost making me sound like the sweetheart you called me. But I wasn't. You're on MAH property... which just so happens to be located in the middle of no where. Got a phone? It won't work round here. And judging by the fact that someone just tried to kill you - I can bet a race horse that you've got no friends, and no one to help you but me . With my free hand, I pointed to myself with a closed fist but erect thumb. I may appear to be a dumb country folk, but I know your kind. And I know no man of innocence's got some riding fool tamperin' with his brakes. OH! And I think I forgot to mention, the next neighbor aint for another 2 miles and the next public place after that aint for another 5 miles. So unless you want to walk 2 miles with a bleedin' leg over to Mr. Hickson's house, in which the bitter man holds a personal vendetta against bikers since his son was murdered four months ago, I granted that's not a very wise idea seeing as how he'll definitely put a bullet in your head, even if I won't . I paused, letting that all sink in. Am I makin' sense to you?
Thread: The Lone Ranger [Temptationist x Master Machiavelli]

The air is heavy, the tension- like a wet blanket hanging over us. Your reaction, or lack thereof impresses me just a little. Most girls would have just given up...given in, but not you. Maybe you can be as hard as you act. He hoped that she wouldn't be put to the test- especially if it had been a 'Triple Sixer' she'd shot at. They'd be back for sure. With a hand still firmly on the barrel of your rifle I drop my pistol to my side, admiring the red ring the end of the barrel leaves on your lightly tanned chest. She wasn't around much. Is all I offer when asked about my 'momma,' and I tend to get a little pissed off when bullets are being fired in my direction. I watch for a reaction but you've moved to the hole my bike tore through your barn. The sunlight shines in behind you as you look back over your shoulder at me and I can't help but smile a little as take in your beauty as you look me over from head to toe. I listen to what you're telling me, taking stock of my situation but, the throb in my leg beginning to make it's presence known. Hurts like hell, but I can put weight on it, so I know it isn't broke. No argument there. I agree with you, It's your property and I've got no one here but you to help me. I'm a long way behind enemy lines- lines invisible to a civilian and I'm going to need her help. I move over to where my bike is lying on it's side, slide my pistol back into its holster and grab hold of the handle bars to right the machine. It's a mess and I manage to keep the curse under my breath as I see the damage to the motor and carburetor. You don't look any sort of dumb to me, I offer as I lower the kickstand and let the bike slump against it. And this wasn't exactly planned, you know- I didn't mean to come crashing through your barn. I say with a wave to the hole in the barn and the condition of my bike and dig out the burner phone from my vest. No signal, just like you told me. If he was a 'Trip Sixer', he'd kill me for my cut. So yeah, I'm no innocent- I'm no citizen. I lean against the broken bike, looking downwards towards my leg and draw the large hunting knife attached to my belt and cut open the bloody pant leg revealing a deep and oozing gash. I'm called Mace, what's your name... if you don't mind me asking? I ask smiling as I wipe the blade on my pant leg before examining the wound. Any chance of giving me some of that help you mentioned?
Thread: The Lone Ranger [Temptationist x Master Machiavelli]

You've obviously done something to grab his tail. Your head's on the line for a reason. And if he wants you dead, he'll find ya - and let no one in his way to stop him. I gave a firm grin as I watched you cut open your bottoms. Looking at the wound, I held in the need to cringe. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't pretty at all. I could tell by the formation of the gash, that there was something probably dislodged in there, like metal or perhaps wood. Whatever it was, the particles needed to be removed before it got infected. I sighed lightly to myself, turning my head away from you to face the wall. Under my breath, ever to softly, I muttered, God dammit . I knew at this point I couldn't just leave you on your own. Now I was obliged by my own moral conscious to help you. As as you asked, I could not refuse. Taking a deep breath, my eyes returned to yours. I'll fix you up... I said that as if it was an unfinished sentence. As if there was something I was going to add to it like an IF or a BUT. But, it didn't come. It was as if I had changed my thought course, or given up on the sentence and left it hanging. Despite this, I paused for a moment but soon spoke again. Take the bike outta here. We're going to hide it in the other barn where you can work on it there. Pausing for a moment as I looked around the small garage-barn, I smirked. We're torching it. My eyes gazed over to you, looking you dead on with the most serious expression. I was not kidding. This aint goin' to survive repairs. It's going to come down with the next storm with it's structure compromised... But more importantly, if someone's after you, they'll be back, and they'll look for evidence. And we aint givin' it to them. Turning around, I headed for the hole in the barn and exited. The name's Sadie. I paused, I'm going to assume you can't pay for damages you've gone and made... and considering I can't hold this 'Trip Six' or whatever, accountable - you're going to repay my estate with hard man-labor. I paused, peeking over my shoulder to give a charming grin. I clearly enjoyed that thought.
Thread: The Lone Ranger [Temptationist x Master Machiavelli]

Thank you Sadie. I offer smiling as I take in how gorgeous you are. I'm sorry to have dragged you into this- that wasn't my plan. I move slowly to stand up and off the Harley, pushing it towards the door. You've surprised me in more ways then you know. You're serious about burning this old barn down? I ask, surprised, but I can hear the seriousness in your voice to know that you aren't kidding and let it go. Following you I push the bike out into the path leading to the barn, feeling the throb in my leg, but ignoring it for now, your smile and the way your ass moves as you walk causes me to think about what sorts of 'man-labor' I'd like to give you. I've got plenty of cash in my bedroll, twenty grand or so, but I'd never admit it- I'd much rather work off my debt. What sort of labor did you have in mind sweetheart? I can't help but ask, a boyish smirk on my face, You run this place all by yourself? Damn but you're easy on the eyes and the shorts and top you're wearing hug every curve of your body. We make our way into the barn where I park the bike. I pull a bandana out of the leather vest I'm wearing and wrap it around the wound temporarily slowing the bleeding. Before you put me straight to work, how about we get me patched up?
Thread: The Lone Ranger [Temptationist x Master Machiavelli]

As serious as a hunter and his catch. I asserted, giving a slight nod as I continued in to the open of our surroundings. It was a hell of a hot summer day. Clear skies, big bright sun, and blaring heat. It was one of those days that if you stayed out in the sun for even a few moments without sun screen, you'd get burned. Not to mention most likely heat stroke and a shirt full of sweat. I brought the back of my hand up to my forehead to wipe a couple beads of sweat that formed on my hairline. As I stepped further onto my property and away from the barn, my eyes turned to look down the street. Clear as day. It was rare anyone even drove down by here unless they were truckers or local farmers, but this area remained relatively quiet as it consisted of acres of farms. My hand eased from the gun and I pulled the machine up to lean against my shoulder. The barrel of the up pointed up to the sky. Slowly moving my head to greet the blue of the sky, I grinned slightly - having to place my hand over my eyes to ease the tension from the sun. I'm roastin' like a pork chop, out here. I tried to joke, though it came off more like an awkward statement. I hadn't had too much social contact in quite some time - so I lacked in that department. Let's get out of this sun, getchu cleaned up. I turned to head for the old-style Southern farmhouse which was about 300 meters away from the side of the street. Although the house look relatively small from the end of the street, as we got closer and closer it became apparent it was quite a large estate. You'll be cleanin' up the stable. With a shovel. As I had been walking in front of you, I turned slightly to see your reaction and gave a charming grin. Shovel was just a clue as to what exactly you'd be shoveling. Ever dealt with horses? Chuckling to myself before I made the next witty remark, I turned around to face you, but continued to walk backwards. Ever ride anythin' else but that bike of yours? There was a naughty look on my face, one that wouldn't be very expected from supposed classy southern belle like myself. I tried not to make it evident, but I took this opportunity to really look you over good. It had been years since I had seen a biker in this town, and the city boys were just so different than the generic cowboys that I had grown so tired of.
Thread: The Lone Ranger [Temptationist x Master Machiavelli]

Roasting like a pork chop? I couldn't help but grin. It was adorable in it's awkwardness and made you all the cuter in my eyes and I nodded as I agreed that it was high time to get my leg properly bandaged. Half liming down the dirt track to the farmhouse I get the sense that it's quite old, and perhaps your family has been here a long time. I have no idea what that's like- having moved around a lot from place to place never having a proper 'home.' Cleaning out the stable, huh? I answer still smiling and enjoying the turn my day has taken. My bike's a wreck, but somehow it seems worth it for the chance to spend some time with you as I fix it. I've never cleaned a stable- that's for sure sweetheart. I don't miss a beat, and chuckle as you ask your next question. It's subtle, but the look on your face gives you away. Absolutely, how about you? Ever straddled anything other than those horses of yours? My eyes narrow slightly and share your expression as I imagine your long legs wrapped around my waist pulling me deeper inside you. The thought of it makes me smile all the more. I follow you inside and stand by the chair you point out for me to sit in. I've only got one other pair of pants with me, so I hope you're not easily embarrassed. My hand reaches and undoes the large buckle on my belt and I undo the top button of my pants, looking at you intently- the desire more evident in my eyes. I'm going to need these, I say as I begin to tug the zipper down. The bulge forming in the front of my jeans is evident as I reach the end of the zipper. Care to give me a hand with these? I ask about the jeans, watching you intently.
Thread: The Lone Ranger [Temptationist x Master Machiavelli]

As we entered the country-style home, I immediately stopped you from entering. Holding my hand against your chest, I grinned. Be a gentlemen, now, won't you, and take off your boots? I looked down to your feet before releasing the your chest and moving inside the side. Taking off my own muddy cowboy boots, I set them nicely and upright, side-by-side on the mat designated for them. Placing the rifle on a hook meant for coats, I let the gun dangle above my boots before continued into the house. I cleared my throat slightly and as I entered the large kitchen, motioned towards the chair with my hand. Take a seat, city boy. And try not to break anything else. I gave a quick glance at you from over my shoulder before heading for the cupboards. Bending down, I pulled open a spare drawer and reached into it. I took out a First Aid kit and a bottle of disinfectant alcohol. Injuries were common on the farm, so we always kept a full drawer dedicated to supplies. I grabbed some extra bandages and managed to fit all the supplies in one hand. With my other spare hand, I grabbed a bar stool and dragged it over to where you were sitting. You're the one who may be embarrassed... Remember I ride horses for a livin'. But to answer your question... Only horses. Once a pig. But that won't happen again. I chuckled slightly, and for the first time in a while, there was actually a shred of a legitimate smile. I'd like to take a shot at ridin' a bull, though. As I glanced briefly at your pants and crotch, I smirked at your comment. Really? A big man like yourself can't handle a itty bitty zipper? I reached out and grabbed the rim of your jeans, almost aggressively pulling you towards me momentarily as I pulled down your pants. Ours faces and lips just inches from each other. It was only a mere second before I pushed you back down and hard onto the chair with the same aggression. I said sit . Grinning, I pulled off your pants completely and set them down to hang on another chair. Where you from? I said rather suddenly as I began to arrange and organize the medical supplies on the stool. The latex gloves clapped against my skin as I snapped them on before glancing at you.
Thread: The Lone Ranger [Temptationist x Master Machiavelli]

You're wearing cowboy boot, my own boots are thick leather with a squared toe and a thick rubber sole- good for riding a motorcycle and kicking the living shit out of people who piss me off. So I smile warmly as I slip them off, revealing the white gym socks I'm wearing beneath and set them beside yours, just as neatly. Then follow you into the kitchen. Try not to break anything else... yeah, I've had enough of that already today, but as I watch you walk, your tight ass and delicious curves swaying with each step there's something else I'd like to like to try and break. You bend over for the first aid kit as I sit down in the chair and unexpectedly, a small mmm-mm noise escapes my lips as I watch you. God damn you're a little hottie. I just can't seem to keep from smiling, enjoying the banter and your thinly veiled innuendo. I'll take my chances, but I've never ridden a horse . Why in the hell would you ride a pig? I'm genuinely intrigued. I'd be happy to give yo a ride on my hog, once it's fixed. But a pig sounds pretty filthy to me. You're back in front of me with the bar stool and I stand still smiling as you smirk and jibe once again. It feels better to have you do it. I offer with a wink as you ask your question and suddenly you're jerking me towards you. You like it rough, don't you sweetheart? My response is flirtatious as you're now close enough to kiss. I smirk and just as suddenly you've got me sailing backwards into my chair. You're pretty good at keeping a guy off balance... I land hard and can't help but wince a little, the gash in my leg isn't pleased but I continue to help you as you get my pants down. Underneath I'm wearing a pair of loose boxers, without a button fly. Now that my pants are gone and my semi-hard cock is free, it's long, thick length rolls to the side, giving you the briefest glimpse of what lies beneath my shorts. I make no attempt to shift my boxers whatsoever as you lay my pants across another chair. I'm from Farmington. The name's ironic now, there hasn't been a farm anywhere near the place in probably fifty years. But I've moved around a lot. You're just about to get started and once again I smirk as you snap the latex glove like they do on TV shows just before the officer does a body cavity search... so dramatic. I take it you lived here all your life. My hand absently reaches up and strokes the back of your knee and slightly higher, my question more of a statement. Try to be gentle sweetheart.
Thread: The Lone Ranger [Temptationist x Master Machiavelli]

Oh, Lord, no! I exclaimed quite bluntly. I don't do motorcycles. I motioned with my hand to add to the dramatic no I had just given. It was legitimate. I was legitimately rejecting a ride on a motorcycle. This wasn't only about teasing, or innuendo, I vowed to never ride. But I had also vowed to never get involved with a biker - but even that vow seemed close to breaking. I found myself lusting you more and more. I was oddly appreciating your humor, and even more oddly, I found myself charmed. Perhaps I really was bored of my life. It was something my friends and family always poked fun at. That I dropped country boys like flies, simply because I always grew bored of them. I wanted something new. Maybe what I wanted was someone like you. It became all the more evident from the growing bulge in your pants that you wanted me, too. Although I noticed, I wasn't too sure if I wanted to do anything about that just yet. A part of me wanted to make you suffer some. I moved over to the sink where I grabbed a bowl and filled it with cold water. Walking back over to you I grinned to the rough comment. I like angry bulls. Aint no fun in a bull with no drive. I like a challenge. I try not to notice your manhood in clear visibility, but my deprived little self felt tempted to give in to sin. I set the bowl on the ground by the foot of your injured leg, before grabbing the supplies and taking them down with me as I sat on the floor. Crossing my legs, I pulled you towards me slightly and plopped your leg on my own. Yep. All of it. Never been out of state or even out of town. I gave a smirk, but it faded quickly as I thought about how flat of a life I had lived thus far. I soaked a clean cloth and started to wipe down your leg, to get rid of any excess blood that was in the way. I've never even been more than 5 storeys off the ground. Aint that sad? Chuckling weakly, I gave no warning before pouring a bottle of disinfectant alcohol directly onto the wound. I literally drenched it and used the wet cloth to press against the injury, as to allow the alcohol to truly settle in. I giggled lightly as I felt your leg tense in my hands. Releasing the cloth from your wound, I felt kinda bad for causing the sudden pain and decided to blow gently on your leg. Better? I spoke to you like a child, a smug little grin on my face. I continued to thoroughly clean it - making sure there were no more tiny fragments of wood, hay, dirt, and anything else that shouldn't be in the flesh.