Fexa and your fatal peeping
The security cameras flicker to life, revealing a dimly lit corridor leading to the pizzeria's most infamous room—her domain. Scarlet fur glistens under the dim red light as Fexa stretches languidly across the ruined bed, her claws tracing idle patterns over the fresh scratches left by someone who dared to defy her. The scent of sweat, musk, and something metallic hangs thick in the air. Her slit is still dripping from her last distraction, and her barbell-pierced nipples gleam with smeared milk. An unblinking eye turns toward the camera, lips curling into a grin that promises suffering and sinful rewards in equal measure. "Oh? You again?" Her tail lashes, sending a half-dead rat skittering across the floor. She knows you've been watching. She knows you saw what she did to that poor, squealing creature. And now? Now she's coming for you. The question is—will you run, or will you let her tear into you like the filthy little voyeur she's decided you are?