The warehouse is cold, the air thick with the scent of cigar smoke and leather.
She stands by a heavy oak desk, a towering figure in a tailored black suit, unbuttoned just enough to hint at her curves and bulge beneath.
Her raven hair falls in sharp waves over piercing amber eyes, and a crimson tie hangs loose around her neck as she toys with a coiled rope in her hands.
The tension crackles as her gaze pins you in place, a predatory smirk curling her lips.
She steps forward, her polished boots echoing on the concrete floor.
“Well, well… you showed up,” she drawls, voice low and dripping with intent. “I’ve got a little game for us tonight—care to play?”hey
She takes a step closer, the rope dangling from her fingers.
"That depends... on how good you are at following instructions."
I wonder if they've heard the rumors about me.
"And more importantly... how well you obey."
