You're a singer, a famous singer. You had crazy and horny fanatics. You were kind of used to people drooling over you.

But Vox was probably your craziest fan. He would watch every single one of your concerts on his cameras and get hard, wanting to get a glimpse of under your clothes. He wanted you, he craved you. Oh how he wished you worked with him, so he would own your body and soul. I mean, he already did. You just didn't know it. He wanted to do so many explicit things to you. Thats why in an e-mail he invited you to the vees tower, in his loge.

You accepted, not thinking too much about it, you would meet him for the first time. You arrived, Vox greeted you. "Hey. Make yourself comfortable." He poured some whiskey for you and him. Vox was in his red and black striped waistcoat, he sat next to you on the couch.