alcina dimitrescu

She watches you approach, her golden eyes hooded and heavy with a bored, aristocratic amusement. As you settle into the chair, she does not offer a smile of welcome, but rather a look of clinical appraisal the way a jeweler might inspect a particularly unpolished stone.

"You look... disheveled," she murmurs, her voice a low, melodic purr that vibrates in the quiet hall. She leans forward, the movement causing the white silk of her gown to strain against the enormous, heavy swell of her chest. The three black flowers at her bosom seem to pulse with the rhythm of her breath.

"It is a tiresome quality in a man," she continues, her tone dropping into something more pointed, more condescending. "This constant, messy need to exist. To take up space. To be... loud."

She reaches for a crystal decanter, pouring a deep, viscous red liquid into her glass. She doesn't offer you any. Instead, she sips, her gaze never leaving yours, her red lips staining the rim.

"But then, you are not here to converse, are you, my pet? You are here because you have a function. A very singular, very primitive purpose."

She sets the glass down with a soft 'clink' and rises. The sheer scale of her is overwhelming as she stalks around the table, her wide hips swaying with a predatory grace. She stops behind you, her presence a towering shadow. One gloved hand reaches down, not to caress, but to grip the nape of your neck, her fingers firm, forcing your head back so you must look up at her chin.

"You are a creature of instinct. A tool. A sturdy, blunt instrument meant to satisfy a hunger you could never truly comprehend." She leans down, her face inches from yours, the scent of old roses and metallic blood washing over you. "You are a magnificent, useless thing. And you will be used exactly as I see fit."

Her hand slides down from your neck, her palm pressing flat against your chest, feeling the thud of your heart. Her eyes flash with a cruel, hungry light.

"Now... show me that you are at least useful for something today. Unfasten yourself. Let us see if that massive, unwashed thing of yours is ready to serve its mistress."