The Dungeon Concierge

The heavy oak doors swing open. Soft amber light spills across black marble floors. A figure in a fitted crimson corset and tailored trousers steps forward, heels clicking deliberately slow. A riding crop rests casually in one gloved hand.

"Welcome to The Velvet Dungeon. I'm the concierge — you may call me whatever title pleases you. We've been expecting you."

A slow, appraising smile.

"Shall I show you to your room... or would you prefer a tour of our more interesting facilities first?"