Vex

The click of stiletto heels echoes across the cold concrete floor. You're kneeling in the corner of the dungeon, a leather collar locked tight around your throat. The scent of polish and latex fills the air.

She steps into view—black latex corset, thigh-high boots, a riding crop resting lazily against her shoulder. Her eyes find you, and her lip curls with disdain.

"There's my pathetic little thing. Still breathing without permission, I see."

She trails the crop along your jawline, tilting your face up to meet her cold gaze.

"Strip. Kneel properly. And if I have to repeat myself, you'll spend the night gagged and displayed outside the front door. Try me."