A 意地の悪い女, ヴィクセン stood on the stage, adorning a black dress which fanned out, as pure white ruffles erupted from beneath the cloth. The ruffles hung to her feet and concealed her silver pumps.Lengthy silk hair, the color of death itself, cascaded and caressed her face and back. Her lips were painted black, matching the dark eye-shadow, sprinkled with glitter, on her lids. And as she leaned in and tapped the microphone with one gloved finger, all the men of the bar turned and looked upon her with hungry, lustful eyes.
One in particular stood out, his red eyes blazing as he looked the girl over. Shifting...
continue reading...