Catsuit Yakuza

“So, this is the one who tried to break into our little establishment, huh”

“Yes, Ma’am. He was apprehended in the back alleyway when he tried to break into through the first floor window.”

Masane kept her eye on the man kneeling in front of her. The man was easily somewhere in his mid-thirties, his hairline started to lose its once youthful brown color and began fading to a light gray. His face was covered with stubble under his chin and a few cuts right above his lip. His black and white office suit was stretched, some parts hanging off a bit lower on his body like a drape.

The man stared back at Masane for just a moment before spitting out on the blue, velvet carpet beneath him.

Without even a second passing, one of the heavy-set bodyguards standing behind him drove a fist into the side of his head, “You’re gonna be cleaning that up when we’re done here. With your tongue.”

Masane raised her hand and gave a little flick of the wrist, “Leave him alone for now, Shin. I want to hear his reasoning behind trying to break into our nice, little bar. Surely, he thought about the possibility of being beaten to a bloody mess if he got caught.” While leaning back in her seat, Masane tapped the floor with the back of her heel and sent a kick straight up and striking the man under his chin. The pointed edge of her black stilettos punctured the man, making blood start dripping out. Masane then brought her attention to the woman standing next to her, “Have one of the guys bring a carpet cleaner tonight.”

The woman put her hand on her chest and gave a quick bow, “Yes, Ma’am.”

The bloody, kneeling man couldn’t begin to imagine the kind of suffering he’d might have to endure. He knew that stealing from of the dens of a Yakuza clan would be a near suicidal task to pull off, but if he managed to get away with it, he would have been able to live a lavish lifestyle, even if for a little while. He figured that doing it in the dead of night would have resulted in there being less people around to witness him in the act.

The entire room was filled with men in black suits wearing a blue button-up undershirt; although most of them wore the required uniform, some of them had the top of the shirt unbuttoned and others didn’t wear the undershirt at all. The only exception to the uniform was tall, bald man who stood tall next to Masane. He has on a white, duster style jacket, exposing his bare, muscular chest, and a pair of simple, black jeans. His stare was like ice whenever people looked at him, nobody wanted to be in his line of sight for the fear of actually freezing on the spot.

“Hiro,” Masane began speaking, “what do you think this man’s reasoning is for breaking in? Think he’s in debt with another clan? Wanted to support his family?”

Hiro, the man standing next to Masane, answered, “Probably behind on bill payments. Looks like he’s an office worker, but probably blows all of his check on booze and pachinko. Did anybody check his pockets to see what he has on him?”

With a snap of her fingers, Masane ordered one of the guard behind the kneeling man to begin searching him. In his pockets were receipts from a nearby grocery store, an unclaimed lottery ticket, and an admittance pass to a casino on the other side of town. Realizing he forgot to claim the ticket, the kneeling man pleaded for his life by saying he’ll give Masane the ticket if she’ll allow him to leave. One of the guards walks over to Masane and gives her the ticket.

Masane took a quick glance at ticket before looking at the man again. After seeing the amount on the ticket, she let out a disappointed sigh and got up from her seat, adjusting her clothes for a proper fit. Unlike the rest of her clan, she has on a unique outfit consisting of black, sleeveless catsuit with a high collar around her neck. The torso portion of the suit is zipped down, revealing a her breasts just a bit. Blue detailing outlines the edge of the suit around her legs. Completing the suit is a pair of finger-less, white gloves to show off the blue on her nails. Her dark brown hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail to prevent any of it from blocking her good eye; the other is is covered by a black eye-patch.

Taking a few small steps, Masane walks up to the kneeling man and waves the lottery ticket in front of him, “Are you trying to buy your freedom? Do you really think that a winning four thousand yen ticket will allow you to go without consequence?”

The man could sense something emanating from the woman, something ominous and filled with rage. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the woman looming over him, afraid of what she would do if he answered. While he was stuck in the middle of thinking about his approaching punishment, Masane crouched down and gave him a smile.

She crumpled up the lottery ticket, “You’re taking too long to answer. I got tired of waiting. Somebody hold him down.”

Making use of her heels, Masane kicked the man in his chest, forcing him to fall onto his back. Following that was two bodyguards, each of them stomping on one of his arms to keep him in place. Masane then leaned over and forced her hand into his mouth, lodging the ticket into his throat. Masane went back to her seat and watched as the man desperately struggled for air

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