[ if she's imagining w sticking some explosives in her sick body and lighting them up ecstatically, yes she is. wouldn't it be nice if there wouldn't even be much left of anything to fill in even an unmarked grave... she still has things she needs to do, she actually genuinely does, and yet how completely tempting and mouth-watering a dream.
the crash to the wall takes the breath out of her, then--she starts to laugh, her look down to the knife ticking against her throat is close to delighted than anything else. of course it would be. for all her efforts to get along with people, for all that she hadn't even done anything like attack texas, for all that she vents her frustrations on enemies in combat she doesn't exactly quite say she loves to be roughed up when it never quite happens and of course texas doesn't exactly indulge her or anything. deservedly. still there's the thrill in her blood that snarls at her to fight back, to... she'd want to be banged up even worse than being banged. ]
I'll have to ask what I've done to deserve such a treat. [ it couldn't be the sickness of the infection, it must be the natural sickness that--yes, very yes, she'd be sick enough to actually genuinely want to experience something like being blasted intimately even mid-fuck. she obligingly reaches to the new tear opened to her dress, hooks a black claw to the new rip, then tear obligingly a long open wound in the fabric from thigh to abdomen. it sure was a surprise waking up in a garage in some limo in literally nothing but a nightgown but she at least has panties now--black lace, nice and showy for this glitzy and showy and perverted casino.
playing games, indulging in pleasure... she's not exactly such a shameless hedonist, actually, really. but she knows what she likes. and in the back of her mind she keeps in mind, the calculation of a criminal, how w can use her arts like this--it could definitely be useful. and not just in sex. nevermind it should never be used in sex. the burn along the edge of plastic only brings a greater blush to her face, the restless whisk of her tail, the part of her thighs to make it just too obvious how wet she is, the damp of black lace. ]
Don't spoil me that much just yet. Even I'll feel guilty if I'm blown apart before I could possibly pay you back. [ there's such a thing as being too greedy, right? ]
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the crash to the wall takes the breath out of her, then--she starts to laugh, her look down to the knife ticking against her throat is close to delighted than anything else. of course it would be. for all her efforts to get along with people, for all that she hadn't even done anything like attack texas, for all that she vents her frustrations on enemies in combat she doesn't exactly quite say she loves to be roughed up when it never quite happens and of course texas doesn't exactly indulge her or anything. deservedly. still there's the thrill in her blood that snarls at her to fight back, to... she'd want to be banged up even worse than being banged. ]
I'll have to ask what I've done to deserve such a treat. [ it couldn't be the sickness of the infection, it must be the natural sickness that--yes, very yes, she'd be sick enough to actually genuinely want to experience something like being blasted intimately even mid-fuck. she obligingly reaches to the new tear opened to her dress, hooks a black claw to the new rip, then tear obligingly a long open wound in the fabric from thigh to abdomen. it sure was a surprise waking up in a garage in some limo in literally nothing but a nightgown but she at least has panties now--black lace, nice and showy for this glitzy and showy and perverted casino.
playing games, indulging in pleasure... she's not exactly such a shameless hedonist, actually, really. but she knows what she likes. and in the back of her mind she keeps in mind, the calculation of a criminal, how w can use her arts like this--it could definitely be useful. and not just in sex. nevermind it should never be used in sex. the burn along the edge of plastic only brings a greater blush to her face, the restless whisk of her tail, the part of her thighs to make it just too obvious how wet she is, the damp of black lace. ]
Don't spoil me that much just yet. Even I'll feel guilty if I'm blown apart before I could possibly pay you back. [ there's such a thing as being too greedy, right? ]