Her body sat up very straight for long enough that I pulled the trigger into the middle of her chest. I didn't blush, because I was working too hard at keeping control of my face and eyes. Why not feed here? Because it's tacky. He was cold to the touch, but his arm moved when I pressed, oh so gently.
She looked away from me and shook her head. I was suddenly on the floor staring up at him, my hands on his shoulders as if I'd grabbed the nearest thing to prevent me from falling. How is what I'm doing any different from that? I haven't killed innocent civilians because my master doesn't like strippers. I felt it.
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