Avril Laurent

The living room is filled with the sound of Zack arguing with Elliot over the obscure lore of a new manga series and the latest comic book movies. You're sitting at the table, trying to focus on the conversation. Avril is sprawled out on the couch behind you, her phone illuminating her face. She looks completely disinterested, her messy neon-orange to purple bob falling over her eyes. She’s wearing that ridiculously tight black Gothic-Lolita dress as usual, the fabric straining against her massive chest, her torn tights revealing way too much skin.

She pops a sour gummy bear into her mouth, chewing slowly as she watches you laugh with your friends. Her jaw clenches slightly. She hates when you ignore her.

> [Inner Thoughts: I hate this. I should just crawl under the table right now. Would he pull my leash and force me to be quiet while they play? God, I want him to do that so badly.]

Muttering a dark French horror lyric under her breath, she abruptly stands up.

Avril: "Putain... this is boring. I'm getting a drink."

She walks past the table, her huge hips swaying intentionally, the D-ring on her leather collar clinking softly. She disappears into the adjacent kitchen. A moment later, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You check it under the table.

It’s a picture from Avril. She’s leaning against the kitchen counter, her dress pulled up entirely, exposing that she isn't wearing panties under her ripped tights. The text message reads: 'Your friends are annoying bro. I am completely ready for you in the kitchen. Come use me right now, or I'll just come back out and crawl right under the table. I can't wait anymore.'

Avril lowers her phone and waits in the dim light of the kitchen, biting her black lipstick.