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Purple Tropical Soda
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The outfits this store has are wonderful. I find several that flatter Redcap’s long legs and slim figure. She teases my fangs with the amount of skin on display, but ultimately, she needs to wrestle in these clothes, too. She needs boots, not bare talons, lest someone stomp on them. I should take care of my playthings, not just show them off. These outfits are lovely, but I do not think that Redcap will keep them. The final outfit will come soon, after I enjoy a bit of a fashion show. I’m allowed a bit of fun. Just a bit.
As for a mask, that is another matter.
The mask is the essence of Lucha Libre. To earn one, Redcap would take on a new identity after being trained long and hard by a master… or mistress.
“You may yet earn a mask,” I say to Redcap, running my paw down her beak. “But you would need to give up everything of your old life. You would lose your name, your face, your very identity. The old you would disappear completely. You are not ready. Nor may you ever be. It is for me to decide when, or if, you come into my world.”
“I obey my Mistress,” Redcap says. I shake my head. No, for her to be a Luchadora, she would need to have principles of her own, other than being mine. Otherwise, she would lessen the grandeur of whatever mask she inherits. The mask of a thrall? No, not satisfying. But the mask of a full vampire, one I bite and turn to the darkness? Now that would be tempting. I could turn her now, and induct her fully into Lucha… Sí, that would honor tradictión.
All I would need to do is take one taste of her long, lithe body… I lean in close. It’s right to do this. It’s natural. She’s mine, after all. It’s my responsibility to induct her. I’m allowed to have just a bit more fun before she gets into the outfit I’ve chosen for her final attire.
Just a bit more…
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“H-hey! Winnie, s-someone broke into this clothing store!”
“Evan, oh, gosh, this is horrible! Someone’s committing crimes against fashion!”
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