z023 Posted February 6, 2012 Share Posted February 6, 2012 July 24th, 2027 Forbidden Fruits, Ibiza "Miss Sakura, what inspired you to open a club like..." The reporter floundered for a moment, trying to think of a polite way to end the question in the face of the serenely smiling, heavily pregnant nova's presence. "A fetish club, Mr. Renaldo?" She asked, her smile never wavering. "Uh, yeah...yes." He got a hold of his spine and straightened it out enough to hold the microphone out where she could answer over the click and flash of other reporter's cameras. The young nova had agreed to give the press free passes to the club for their opening day on the condition that they ask questions one at a time or she would end any interviews and have them collectively thrown out. She smiled and looked down at her swollen womb. "Well," she said coyly as she looked up through perfect lashes, "it can't be that much of surprise that I like sex." The group chuckled on cue and she leaned forward, just enough for all of them to feel like they were about to learn intimate secrets from the Blossom Princess, as she was becoming known as in English-speaking circles. "And I like sexy things," she continued in a near whisper, drawing them in. "So....I figured, why not have a sexy place? A place for sexy dancers and sexy music and sexy rooms and just about everything sexy you can think of." She ran a finger over the hand of the reporter who'd asked the question, making the man swallow hard and blink several times, trying to keep his mind on his job so he didn't lose it chasing after nova tail. She winked at him, "Everything legal, of course." The group laughed and most of them were already considering how to bilk their employers out of the cost of a VIP membership. Down the bar from the knot of reporters and the enticing owner of the newest club in Ibiza, Snow was enjoying an apple martini and playing the unobtrusive bodyguard along with Darion. Well, maybe not unobtrusive but the reporters were treating them like interesting patrons, not deadly efficient protectors. The younger nova lounged against the bar and sipped at her drink and glanced at Darion. "She's good. I mean, I'd heard, but she's playing them like violins and I don't think a one of them has a clue. I'm not sure they'd care if they did. Just as long as she keeps talking about sex and letting them get a good look down what passes for her shirt." Darion glanced over himself and then wished he hadn't. He knew she was enhancing her appeal with little quantum pushes here and there, but even knowing that - hell, even being unaffected by those little pushes - didn't help all that much with a nova of Sakura's beauty and a "maternity" outfit designed, he was sure, as a homage to Lucrezia: stiletto heels; a black latex body-suit with panels artfully cut for flashes of skin that just barely stayed within legal boundaries for Spain; her womb was supported and criss-crossed with black leather belts; her hair done up so only the cherry blossoms showed and fell with mock innocence down one side of her face to tumble just so over her shoulder and draw the eye to her very full breasts straining against their latex bonds. Artistic pink flowers continues the patter through the latex and were tooled delicately across the leather belts along with green vines connecting the blossoms. The green matched her lips and eyes. The collar around her neck that chained that connected the latex running in a thin strip up her back to the two similarly thin strips that eventually widened to hold her breasts in the front was a nice touch as well; the metal rings on the front and back of the collar had far too many thoughts running through his head that were decidedly not bodyguard-ish. She'd managed to strike the perfect balance of innocent-fun and just-wait-until-we're-alone, even six months pregnant, that a good number of the reporters had already had to excuse themselves and ask where the bathrooms were. Only one had been caught snooping around - and three others had been women. He marvelled at the change in her as the group passed him and Snow, Sakura surreptitiously reaching out to squeeze his arm and given him a hopeful smile. And there she is again. Which face is the real one? he wondered as she strutted past the bar and turned down a hallway to give the reporters a tour of some of the private rooms. She'd been so nervous getting her outfit figured out and fretting over the opening. He abandoned his drink - whatever it had been - on the bar and slipped into the group as they walked, making his way to her side without a word. Snow followed and took up her other side. Leaving her some space in the main room was one thing; mood-lit hallways and sound-proofed rooms with two dozen people that might be just reporters or might be any number of other kinds of people wasn't even a question. Some of the paparazzi made angry buzzing noises when he moved them aside; he ignored them like one would a fly in the room. "You doing okay?" he asked at a volume too low for even the recording devices in the room to pick it up. Sakura gave a small nod and tucked his arm in hers; he could feel just the faintest tremble through her frame, the only indication that any of this was trying or even a tiny bit disingenuous of her. She glanced at the guests following her and flashed them all a dazzling smile, especially the more irritated ones. "What can I say? Give some men an inch and they just want every bit of you." She heaved a sigh, fixing him with a pouting smile; every pair of trousers in the room were suddenly painfully tight. "But you do have to admit, he's very pretty on the arm." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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