She had been de-robed and measured, weighed and squeezed, cleavage pressed and mounded in a gleaming dark purple mini dress, a silver zipper rippling down her breasts to the parting of her legs, leaving only three inches at the bottom more fabric. Every time she would tug at the dress, she would receive a sharp crack across her face, but she couldn't help it. She felt so exposed, overly exposed. The splits on the sides made it worse, giving the dress more mobility, something Caitlin seemed adamant upon. . . . The tight stretchy fabric held her shape firm, over-emphasizing the arch in her hips. She said she had a beautiful light fawny skin tone but Caitlin was trying to bring out the golden hue that she said: "only true celts have," with the colour of the dress. She didn't agree with this but said nothing.
Her long hair had been given and extra curling so the tip no longer reached her butt, then the top layer loosely braided, leaving select few strands out, framing her face. Dark purple eyeshadow quickly lightened to an aqua blue, "to help bring out the crystal blue" in her eyes. Caitlin chose a warm dark brown lipstick to make her lips look fuller and bring out that extra glow in her cheeks.
She shifted nervously in the limo, she had never felt so sick, to the dismay of Caitlin every time she disrupted her work to run to the bathroom to unload what little there was left of her stomach. She was too sick for the heels Caitlin had originally planned, so she had been instead been given a pair of black leather sandals intricately woven around her feet and ankles, trapping her feet in the swampy sweat that sank into the soles of the shoes. The limo was cold, which helped her to fight her nerve back, gathering herself in the feeling of the chill, grasping her environment again.
'I need to regain control of myself, I need to breathe.'
She recognized some of the streets they passed through, some of the buildings, vaguely. They were in the same city! If only she had learned more about that mansion Lagina mentioned.
'Damn!'
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to slow her heart. Long, slow, deliberate breaths. Long breath in through the nose, full exhale through the mouth, all the way out, every gasping ounce. She filled her lungs and emptied them. She fingered the cold slick leather seats, sliding her nails across them.
'Regain yourself, sister, you are a fighter.'
The limo stopped, but she felt better, calmer. She looked out at the dark electric street, the dark building with small glimmers of neon lights. Then she saw something that startled her, the entrance to an alley. Was this it? The alley? Was this the. . . ?
As soon as the door opened to him holding the door, panic twisted its way from her chest to her gut. He stood there, his skin dark and golden. Maybe that's what Caitlin meant, the golden hue in her skin was light opposed to his tanned and dark. His black suit made his skin more vibrant, especially without an undershirt. His chest hair wavered in the slight breeze as he stood waiting for her, his arm stretched out to her, his eyes devouring her whole. On the left side of his chest was a design of wolves racing down the steep slope of his broad shoulders like a tsunami towards its prey.
'Remember, sister, where you are from, you are a smoking gun.'
She stepped weakly out of the limo, his eyes sweeping lightly over her figure before stepping closer to her. Her breath caught in her chest, she could feel the smooth fabric of his suit on her breast he was so close. He looked famished. He gripped her hips hungrily with on hand, as the other slowly traced up her ass, across her bareback, to her neck.
"How is my date feeling tonight?" he asked, twirling his fingers in her long curly hair. She felt her face getting hot, biting the inside of her lip hard, trying to slow down her breath.
'Breathe.'
"Like I forgot my red cloak and basket." He smiled at this, gripping her hair in a fist.
"This wolf isn't willing to wait for over the river and through the woods," he growled. A small smile spread on her face causing his eyes to glow. "Shall we go in?"
"After you."
Suddenly a grin captured his face as if he was thinking about something. . . . he wanted to do desperately. His grin suddenly grew as he scooped her up and walked her inside, knowing full well her dress was slipped too far up after his hand penetrated around her legs and up her thigh. He beamed at his brilliance as she inhaled sharply, squirming every time he moved his hand up as she clung to his neck. Luckily, the club was dark, but it didn't make her feel any less invaded as he paraded her through, her dress slipping further and further up. His hand picked its way into her panties, fingering her with slight direct movements. She was horrified, tucking her head into his neck, hiding her face.
"Oh, come now petite," he whispered in her ear. "Would the ride be better with grandma's cape?"
'He's playing a game with me! He would gladly devour anything I let him have his way with.'
Anioa pulled her head up, her eyes livid with fire, anger pulsing through her. It wasn't until he began laughing she realized how many people were watching, even at his fast pace everyone was getting a good look at what he was doing to her as he walked tall and proud all the way to the back.
"How dare you," she hissed.
"No, no little one, do not be so! Is it not true the wolf eats little miss riding one?" He held her tighter as he whispered, "we just skip a few chapters, I'm really into little old ladies." He paused a moment as they neared the VIP area. "Besides, granny never gave you a cloak, you just wandered out on your own."