Howling winds and torrential rain signal the start of a brand new day. Piercing screams from ringing alarm fly through the empty whispers in her mind as Anya awakens from her slumber. Groggy moans escape crimson lips, stained with events of previous debauchories.  Lilly hand with delicate fingers escape silken cloths to pull back ebonite locks of unrulely tresses. Sitting up, her frame sleek against early morning like, eyes flutter open to reveal peircing pools of aqua marine. Yawns escape lips and head fall into hands. memories of previous nights flood her minds eye. Her face scrunches up in discontent as she remembers illicite trists with unfortunates.<br/><br/>Shaking these memories out of her head, she stands upon elegant pins, her slender frame moving softly over wooden boards, she head towards her shower room.<br/><br/>Steam hisses from the heated water and hides the mirror and blurs her vision. Leaning upon the sink, Anya looked into the mirror, bruises upon her neck and arms were becoming more visible now. Digits pass through her locks, pulling her hair tight off her face and fastening with an elastic tie. Stepping to the cascading water, it runs down her form, washing off all impurities, cleansing her skin and her soul. Fait scents of lime and lemon play upon the steam as the gel forms a lather, momentarily coating her lilly complexion in colour suds before the forever falling drops of luke warm water wash them off again. The suds fall down her frame, following every curve and way.<br/><br/>Waking up from her sleepy slumber Anya steps out of the shower, wrapping herself tightly in a towel she looks at the time. She is late....but for what? Her memory fails her, once again. Muttering to herself about the need to exclude vodka from her life she rushs into the bedroom once again.<br/><br/>Drying her form she slips on her favourite blue corset with the black lace given to her by a loved one of old. Her elegant legs slip into their familiar stockinged covers and the black skirt covers her modesty...just. Now for the final touch. Heels of power and yet of submission adorn her feet. Checking herself in the mirror she smiled.