Paz McNamara

Character: Paz McNamara

Age: 27

Description: Her Latina blood is physically prominent in her features – full lips, medium olive skin, dark brown eyes, and thick ebony hair. Most assume by default that she is Mexican, which she could very well be, if she knew anything about her biological parents. But she usually just leaves it at ‘Hispanic’ or ‘Latina’. Paz is tall for a woman (but not remarkably so), standing at exactly 5’7” (170 cm). While not significantly obese, Paz is a little on the plump side, at a dress size 14/16. Her normal mode of dress is casual, if not a bit “street”, with hoodies, jeans, leggings paired with a denim skirt, boots or Converse, and finger-less gloves. She often sports unnatural colored streaks in her hair, purple being a favorite of hers. However, when working from home, she plays the expected role for her clientele with form-fitting latex catsuits and PVC dresses complete with all manners of buckles, belts, mesh, and dangerous looking studs and rivets. Overall, she might be considered a modestly attractive or even a pretty woman, but definitely not gorgeous or glamorous in the traditional sense.

Personality: Paz tends towards a more pessimistic view of things; and can have quite the sardonic tongue. She never goes out of the way to be nasty to people, unless they start dicking with her or someone she cares about. Because of her rather awkward childhood, Paz normally retains an aloofness or cool detachment from most of the denizens of Asheville. At the very least, she has shrugged off a portion of her shy, ultra timid nature from her days of frizzy hair and braces, but remains cautious. Her closest confidant is Fiona Loudain (nee Weir), whom she had cultivated an unlikely friendship with as a teen, and is still close with to this day. As for family, Paz is a bit estranged from her adopted folks, neither particularly caring to put in the effort to keep tabs. Romantically, Paz has only ever been on a handful of dates with one man, but never got to the point of sexual intercourse. In fact, she is still a virgin at twenty-seven, despite her second job as a dominatrix.

Though not a genius or prodigy exactly, Paz is nonetheless gifted with a natural intelligence and considerable wits. However, this also comes with a rather low willpower and lack of “mental stamina”, which makes long-term academia difficult for her to maintain. Having a tendency to coast by on innate smarts alone, she never developed good study habits; which caused her to drop out of a nursing program in college. Some of this deficiency in willpower also contributes to low self-esteem, and giving up on a goal or caving in to fleeting temptations more easily. Despite issues of will and confidence, Paz can get her intimidation on and play the role of the tough domineering bitch for clients. After all, when you need the extra cash for rent or bills you do what it takes. When faced with real danger and lack of a firearm, however, she is more apt to drop the act and flee for safer ground.

History: Paz never knew the man and woman that gave her life. She was found at a safe-drop site for infants, and given over to the care of the local orphanage. She was adopted a few months before her 2nd birthday, by the McNamaras – a white middle class couple living in Asheville, NC. The couple had tried numerous times to conceive on their own, but had failed time and time again. Mrs. McNamara was especially keen on having a daughter. While they preferred an infant to a toddler (and one that could pass for a biological child), they settled for Paz – being the youngest adoption candidate at the time. While her domestic life was not a harsh one growing up, there was no denying the feelings of alienation and loneliness. Of not being loved and cherished by her parents like any child should. Instead, she was that ethnic kid they made do with, and did just the bare minimum that parenting required. There was no physical abuse, but there was plenty of emotional negligence on the McNamaras behalf.  So long as she didn’t starve to death and had plastic baubles to be distracted with she was fine. Mr. McNamara spent more time at the office than anywhere else, while the Mrs. preferred shopping trips with girlfriends over any mother-daughter bonding. Paz’s time at school wasn’t any better, her lack of confidence and social skills assuring that she’d go largely ignored; provided she wasn’t being teased or pushed around by her classmates. The wild tangle of hair and obvious wire braces didn’t help that situation either.

Upon entering junior high, Paz felt that exclusion from others grow and become overwhelming. She felt the need for release, and developed a cutting habit. Never deep enough to be fatal, but enough to draw blood and leave visible scars behind. Those she always kept covered whenever she could by long-sleeved shirts or sweaters. It wasn’t long after that she met Fiona Weir. She showed Paz the rare bit of kindness, and introduced her to the Dead of Dixie Society. There Paz had the freedom to be herself, to confess her darkest secrets and desires without undo judgment. While still gawky and socially inept, she had some modicum of acceptance from her peers in the clandestine group. She remained a part of DoDS up until the start of her senior year of high school. The great blaze of Asheville, the tragic death of Albertine Black, and all the controversy that followed on its heels whittled at the group’s cohesive foundations. Eventually, they all went their separate ways, thus ending DoDS. She was distant for the most part with the others, though she’d still see them around town fairly frequently. Those that remained in Asheville anyway. As always, Paz stuck close to Fiona; and even attended some parties with her as a young adult. Her self-harming became less of a nightly ritual, and more of an infrequent occurrence post-high school; as the braces came off and she gained some measure of independence from the apathetic McNamaras.

After graduation, Paz enrolled into an educational program to become a certified nurse midwife. A career that involved helping women deliver their babies, and looking after them while they remained under hospital care. While she had never lacked for intelligence, she had found herself lacking in the motivation to park herself in front of her books and study long hours. And unlike middle or high school, could not get away with those ‘A’s’ on coasting alone. Thus, she dropped out of the program halfway through it. She took a job at the local ma and pa owned hardware store to pay for the seedy little apartment she acquired for herself in the main part of town. While she had a job, she found herself struggling to get by. The nursing program had eaten up a good portion of the cash she had upon leaving her parents. But still Paz persevered, rust-water Cup of Noodles and cockroaches aside. It was at a party she attended with Fi that she first met him. Elliott Harper. A nice young southern gentleman, with an easy smile that seemed like it was made just for Paz. The two talked, hitting it off almost immediately, despite her normally guarded nature. He asked to see her again, to which she eagerly agreed. Finally, a guy who showed some genuine interest in her (that wasn’t a total pig); and who could very well be that near-mythical thing known as a boyfriend. Even though she was 21, she still had yet to have even her first kiss. And honestly, she couldn’t think of a better person to share that experience with than Elliott. While she eventually got her dream kiss, however, she failed to get her dream romance.

It was on their fifth official date, that things took a turn for the unexpected. Paz was nervously anticipating physical intimacy for the very first time, and it seemed like Elliott wanted the same. But his idea of intimacy was different, much darker and more sinister. Not the sweet, slow interlocking and twining of two bodies, oh no. He wanted to be beaten, bruised, sliced, burnt. To experience the sweet agony of flesh rending and cracking beneath blade and flame alike. Paz was horrified by this man’s sexual ideals, not wanting any of this at all in their relationship. This was torture he was proposing, not lovemaking! Elliott pleaded with her, saying he’d pay her even for just one night’s worth of twisted pleasure; and would leave afterwards if that’s what she truly wished. But she wasn’t having any of it, and promptly turned him away. The following weeks passed in misery for her. Broken utilities and appliances, overdue rent, and barely enough money for groceries on top of a painful breakup. Her cutting habits reared its head with an ugly vengeance as well. But with each slice of the blade across her forearm, came a slow epiphany. She couldn’t keep subsisting the way she had been for the past year. Her meager wages from the hardware store were not enough. She needed money, and badly. There was only so much Fi could do to help, having her own family to support; and her own folks were definitely out of the question. Her mind kept flashing back to Elliott’s words….”I’ll pay you”. Perhaps she wasn’t one to be so sanctimonious either. A blade in flesh was still a blade flesh, whether it’s hers or his. She ended up contacting him again, and agreed to his offer. She would receive monetary compensation from him for catering to his masochistic whims. Their relationship changed from a romantic to an off the books professional one; and he became her first client in this new venture.

Over the next six years, Paz found a handful of individuals with similar predilections, who were more than willing to pay her to do stuff their boyfriends, girlfriends, or even spouses would not freely give. She never dates or has actual sex with her clientele, but there is always a trust agreement between both parties. I will keep your secret, and you will keep mine. It would not do for the whole of Asheville to hear about such unorthodox perversions. Paz continues to work at the hardware store, using her employee discount for “supplies”; while privately scheduling sessions at her place to supplement that income. While certainly not wealthy, it has provided her with a more sustainable means of living. Even the first aid she learned with nursing comes in handy for bandaging and rudimentary stitching up of lacerations, burns, and other relatively shallow wounds inflicted in the pursuit of pleasure. Anything more serious would require an emergency room trip, but she always tries to implement some level of restraint to avoid those. So long as everyone (her best friend included) keeps on believing that she is nothing more than that “weird Mexican girl” ringing up customers at Biggs Tools, well, so much the better for everyone.