In Which She Upset Him

A blazing alarm rang. It was hauled in from the backyard or the front porch. There is a good chance that Mona's alarm for breakfast has already gone off. You best get ready.

Following the events of the previous night, the very last thing you need to do when you wake up is to find that you have made additional errors.

As Mona continued her search for the restroom, she moved her wings in the direction of the stalls.

"Mistress Lisa, what outfit do you recommend I wear today?" A shout came from Mona when she was washing her hair in the shower.

Lisa responded to the question while sitting on the bed with her legs crossed and leaning down on her hand. She was curious about what the environment would be like outside and made a remark about how the other person was wearing an outfit designed by Taylor.

Is John planning on getting a bandage on his hand? Is it possible that today is going to be my last day working on this ship?

Lisa was startled by an unpleasant memory that came to her at that very moment, which caused her to frown. It was almost as if she was familiar with the information already.

"Lisa, you are the worst kind of whore."

Nobody had mentioned it to her while she was on board the ship, but all of a sudden, those words sprung into her head.

It was likely that it bothered her at the time, but she was not going to permit herself to be dominated by it ever again. She had made up her mind. She is not a product of the words said by others or the thoughts that pass through the minds of others; rather, she is simply who she is. She is not a product of the words said by others or the ideas that pass through the minds of others.

After all, the day that she puts on trousers is one of the days in her life that she will remember when she is bedridden or unwell, and it is possible that she will recollect this day when she is in that position. Nothing could spoil her wonderful time or remove the joy from her face since there was nothing that could.

When Mona did finally make it, she was shaking and had a towel wrapped over her that was ten times larger than she was. "Oh my goodness, the temperature in here is so frigid, your majesty, Lisa, and I apologize for the inconvenience. What am I going to do to survive?

Mona walked around the room in a circle, stopped in the middle, and remarked to Mistress Lisa, "I don't see any garments." Her hair was dripping wet, and her small brows were knitted together. "What am I supposed to wear?" she questioned to herself while waving with her hands. "I don't know."

Lisa was staring at the ceiling while she rested her upper body on the bed in a slouched position, with her legs crossed and her feet tucked under her. She referred to something that was encased in pink silk and indicated it by pointing at the dressing table and said, "There."

Mona uttered a "Oh" as she got closer to the wrap, all the while fixating her gaze ardently in its direction.

Before this, Lisa had never stayed in the same place for more than a day and a half. She was a wandering spirit, shifting from location to location with the ebb and flow of musical expression.

This space has begun to impede her mobility and limit her freedom of expression. As she lay there on the bed, it appeared as though she was an amenity that came standard with the accommodation.

She craved for the exciting experience of moving to a new city, where she could explore the gloomy backstreets and run around in the pouring rain.

Up until this point, Lisa had not given much thought to the challenges that come with her current position. Lisa had the impression that if this behavior persisted, she might begin to lose who she was as a person.

Mona landed on the bed looking like a dancer in her ivory silk ballerina attire with long sleeves and a wrap skirt. She had long hair pulled back into a bun.

While Mona was running her fingers through Mistress Lisa's body, she said something to her about how the clothing was appropriate for a dancer. Her tiny form lent an air of sophistication to the way she carried off the garment. The cropped shirt that she was wearing provided definition to her chest, which looked great.

Mona exclaimed with glee as she performed acrobatic moves in front of the dressing table mirror. She circled, executed tricks, and marveled at the way her skirt moved in sync with her movements.