–Philogelos (The Laughter Lover) In this odd brothel where brick wall met silk, sensual moans met rough grunts, and perfume mingled with cigar smoke, a beautiful woman stood on the stage with chains attached to her legs. There was an elegance to her that could not be denied even as silver locked her ankles and jailed her to the hooks on the floor. She was a cascade of color—draped in a rainbow of sequins and silk that trailed all around her. Yet the high split, that started above the singer’s thigh, showed the trapped ankles and angry welts on her legs. Someone had whipped her too many times. Someone had tried to defeat her. Yet, she sang with so much emotion, telling us all that no one could beat away or silence the melody inside of her. Her skin was its own poetry—an enchanting display of soft, pale flesh among purple bruises. Her face revealed a beautiful pain. Her cheeks sank in--probably from starvation, but her eyes shined emerald green. Full lips. She captivated me. Crimson red hair spilled down her shoulders, dripping like blood and curling at her waist into tiny fists.
What do You think about Power (Romantic Suspense)?
