The Hell- Bound Mistress: The Good Night

All things considered, It had been a good night for her Mistress, none of her moans were even fake. And although the pack of happy men had already left, drunk and laughing like yelping mad dogs, their curdled marks still stuck to the Mistress's cheeks and the ends of her red lips, like errant spiderwebs, or long white shifting whiskers in the night's breeze.

But neither she nor her Mistress paid any mind to it, it was a typical thing, of typical nights here. That premium face of her Mistress's is the Number One tourist attraction of the entire Red Light District after all, typically congested with so many male genitals.