• Whore house.



    Her face is hidden behind a mask, to cover the ugliness they might see. A brand has been burned into her right thigh, the mark of the brothel, her owner's sign.

    Her hair is up in a simple style clipped by long pins that had a chopstick shape to them. In this style, her raven's hair hung sensually down her back.

    The only item of clothing on her was a long flowing blue piece of cloth wrapped around her body, for easy removal, as it was cheaper then letting the customers rip it away to get to her lustfully sensual body.

    Bandages covered her wrists and ankles, to hide the marks left from the many cuffs, shackles and beatings.

    Looking up from the floor, her eyes looked through the slanted eye sockets of her mask, to the walls of her room, her cage.

    The finest paper and ink had been used to make the delicate looking branches that hanged sadly downwards.

    In fine lines drawn by the best calligrapher, behind the finely drawn branches, there was a ragged mountain range. She lowered her head again, listening to the approaching foot steps,
    a single tear rolled down her mask-covered face.

    Her first customer of the night had arrived, she prays that he would not hurt her or make her do vile acts, She prays......



    She prayed.