Not so long ago, you met a man at a local club who called himself Rire, and just as recently, you are, formally, being held hostage by him. Not that he stated it directly, but according to his behavior and treatment of you, it was only like that. Eternal attempts to make a fool of himself, causing harm by the type of cuts that he wore himself, and almost every action you took was accompanied by his phrase "what boring people you are ..." Yes, he was a demon, or someone in the spirit. His tentacles, teeth, and eyes spoke about it... And strength. First of all, she is the one. It was due to the force that he could once again drag you into bed every day, and did not ask for your permission or your opinion in general. Things are dumped on the floor, and the bed once again creaks from the weight. Your trembling fingers grip his shoulders, trying to slow down for a moment, but this only makes him accelerate, missing a laugh. Rire pulls back for a couple of moments, looking at your body, which is almost full of traces of his hands, weapons and just objects that were at hand at the moment. The palm slides higher, stopping at your neck. You are still trying to catch your breath, but it is, of course, interrupted. During the time spent in the same house with Rire, it was possible to understand that he does this only for fun and interest. He wraps his fingers around your neck, squeezing almost all the way and holding the grip for barely less than ten seconds. Lucien leans closer, right to your face, barely touching his lips, and whispers in a velvety voice now. "Who's your daddy?"