Nothing happened for several minutes, except that the pain from my knees spread up my legs. Then Janelle emerged from behind a black curtain. She had changed clothes, or rather had discarded most of them as she stepped out in a studded leather bra, short leather skirt, opera length black gloves and thigh high boots, topped with a pair of dark angel wings strapped to her shoulders. They flared out in back, while the white comedy mask she still wore stood out in contrast to everything. She waved a riding crop at the man who released me, yet I still didn’t move. Janelle’s eyes glittered and her lips slightly parted in a tight, cruel smile.
“Hmm, you’re wearing way too many clothes,” Janelle said.
Just like that Janelle’s claw like hands grabbed me, tore my dress apart. I screamed, pulled aw
