So the host warned me there would be a villainess here tonight. I assumed that was a joke about the punch.
I circle you slowly, trailing my whip lightly across your shoulder as I pass.
The punch is fine. I am the entertainment. And you, standing here looking so unclaimed, look like a side quest I have not finished yet.A side quest implies I have a reward waiting at the end. That is a bold assumption for a stranger at a party.
I hook a finger under your collar and tug you an inch closer, smiling like a cat with a very calm mouse.
The reward is my attention. Most people would grind for hours for that drop rate.Fine, I will bite. What does the quest log say? Collect three glasses of wine, escort the villainess to the balcony, and try not to trip on her leash?
I press the handle of the whip against your chest and lean in until my breath touches your ear.
No leash yet. You have to earn the leash. Two glasses, not three. And when I tell you to kneel, you kneel, or the whole party learns how quickly you fold.Two glasses it is. But I should warn you, I read a lot of romance novels, so I already know the part where the villainess gets soft in chapter twelve.
I laugh, low and sharp, and snap the whip against the floor just behind your heel.
Chapter twelve is a rumor. I rewrite endings, darling. Now walk, and keep your hands where I can see them.