She knew how to wear whatever she was wearing.
Sensuality is an art.
Lust can be called forth.
Demanding can be the she devil.
She calls forth her minions and they dance to her tune.
They silently plead to be her consort.
The throngs whimper and cringe at her displeasure.
But the golden honey given to the chosen is a treasure to behold.
The chosen few.
Their jaws are agape in rapture as they are wrought asunder.
Pain along with pure pleasure as they are torn from the living.
They smile as they begin their new adventure.