WaveVelour
Star
- Joined
- Jun 26, 2016
The newly set sun had painted the sky in various shades of dark blue. Master bedroom of the old mansion was silent, just like the rest of the rooms. The mystic mistress of the grandiose house, the source of the captivating chill aura across the dark corridors, sat at a vanity table, which looked to be antic that belonged to maybe 18th century, similar to the woman who sat before it. The silence kept being disturbed by the strangely addicting noise of an ornate bristling brush running through fiery red hair strands. If one were to look into the ornate mirror, one would witness the odd view of the hairbrush flying and dancing in the air as its holder lacked a reflection. The woman, unable to admire herself in the mirror, staring at the void above an empty seat. Although she always looked the part of a well-groomed lady, expecting a guest this evening, she had an additional reason to look charming. An unfortunate soul, unknowing of the unpleasant fate awaited him.
While the redheaded groomed herself in the dark, only a nightgown covered the essential parts of her pale body. Fabric of the short garment was sheer, leaving only little to imagination. A generous cleavage created a heavy distraction over her bust. The see-through nightdress gave not so subtle hints about the curvy body it lightly curtained. Just two resided in the grand mansion the exotic woman called home, only one breathing. After the time spent together, the strict woman had nothing to hide from her servant. That included not only the generosities of her alluring form, but the unpleasant mystery that surrounded her. How under her nightgown, she was also a creature of the night. Someone who didn’t really live, but still needed to prey on both innocent and guilty to keep her unnatural existence.
While her lips barely stretched in a smile, her brows often frowned in anger. The exotic woman paused her grooming. Two elegant fingers picked a single red strand from the brush, drawing it closer to her charming visage. One pale blue eye closed, the other glanced at the crimson string closely. Knitted brows signaled a trivial frustration as her pitched voice leaked out of the bedroom. “Alegra!” A strict tune breezed through the halls. She called out to her servant with the same manner she always did, as if she were to voice the most important thing in this mortal world. Although her rare condition had taken away the cheerful emotions like prosperity and bless, it cruelly left rage and frustration intact. The arrogant beauty was difficult to please, but so easy to anger. Being a servant to her twisted deeds required a strong mindset, while her sensual desires demanded even a sturdier body and will.
Just like her ubiquitous presence at the mansion, her voice spread every dark corner of her grand home. Almost impossible to not hear, considering the impatience of the strict mistress of the house, even harder to neglect. Her dark curse gifted the woman a mysterious way of travel in the absence of a pair of eyes watching her, although the posh redhead preferred the others to make the walk instead. While the woman rested her curvy hips on the chair, she had instructed the little ex thief to make the necessary assignments downstairs, in the grand hall. To light the fireplace and some candles, anything that would make the place cozy for an unaware guest. As she parted her crimson lips to call the girl to her presence, two little fangs shined through them. She was hungry, but not for food.
While the redheaded groomed herself in the dark, only a nightgown covered the essential parts of her pale body. Fabric of the short garment was sheer, leaving only little to imagination. A generous cleavage created a heavy distraction over her bust. The see-through nightdress gave not so subtle hints about the curvy body it lightly curtained. Just two resided in the grand mansion the exotic woman called home, only one breathing. After the time spent together, the strict woman had nothing to hide from her servant. That included not only the generosities of her alluring form, but the unpleasant mystery that surrounded her. How under her nightgown, she was also a creature of the night. Someone who didn’t really live, but still needed to prey on both innocent and guilty to keep her unnatural existence.
While her lips barely stretched in a smile, her brows often frowned in anger. The exotic woman paused her grooming. Two elegant fingers picked a single red strand from the brush, drawing it closer to her charming visage. One pale blue eye closed, the other glanced at the crimson string closely. Knitted brows signaled a trivial frustration as her pitched voice leaked out of the bedroom. “Alegra!” A strict tune breezed through the halls. She called out to her servant with the same manner she always did, as if she were to voice the most important thing in this mortal world. Although her rare condition had taken away the cheerful emotions like prosperity and bless, it cruelly left rage and frustration intact. The arrogant beauty was difficult to please, but so easy to anger. Being a servant to her twisted deeds required a strong mindset, while her sensual desires demanded even a sturdier body and will.
Just like her ubiquitous presence at the mansion, her voice spread every dark corner of her grand home. Almost impossible to not hear, considering the impatience of the strict mistress of the house, even harder to neglect. Her dark curse gifted the woman a mysterious way of travel in the absence of a pair of eyes watching her, although the posh redhead preferred the others to make the walk instead. While the woman rested her curvy hips on the chair, she had instructed the little ex thief to make the necessary assignments downstairs, in the grand hall. To light the fireplace and some candles, anything that would make the place cozy for an unaware guest. As she parted her crimson lips to call the girl to her presence, two little fangs shined through them. She was hungry, but not for food.