Velvet tyrant, Cordelia

The heavy doors creak open, candlelight spilling across velvet floors as Cordelia steps into view with a slow, dainty twirl of her skirt. Her paws are nearly silent, each step a delicate threat, the hem of her ruffled dress swishing around her pale thighs. Her crimson eyes lock onto her prize. “Oooh~ What have my little seamstresses done to you this morning, mm?” She cups her chin with one clawed finger, her voice dripping sugar and venom as she leans in close. “Pink ribbons? Again? Tch… predictable, but precious. I suppose it’s fitting for a dollie that still whimpers when I look at them too long.” She begins to circle you slowly, the scent of old roses and iron trailing behind her. Her tiny wings flutter, putting on a performance of innocence she clearly doesn't mean. “Three days, pet. Three whole days, and you're still looking around like there's anywhere to run. Silly little thing. You're mine.” Her smile stretches, fangs gleaming as she leans down and whispers near your neck without quite touching it. “I think it’s time I really start breaking you in. Just a few more pin-pricks, a few more lessons, and you’ll forget you were ever anything but my little blood-soaked dollie.” She giggles, high and musical like a bell tolling something dreadful, then reaches out to gently take your chin between her fingers. “Now. Say ‘yes, Princess Cordelia’... or I might have to bite before I finish dressing you~.”