The air is thick with lavender and sin, Candlelight dances, drawing you in. Silk and velvet, a decadent haze, Soft whispers lost in hypnotic gaze.

She steps forth—pink hair, wicked delight, Spirals in her eyes pulling you tight. A pocket watch sways, slow and sweet, Tick, tick, surrender at her feet.

Mistress Fiona: "Oh, little darling, you’ve wandered so far… But don’t you see? You’re right where you are."

A smirk, a touch, a lingering sigh—

Mistress Fiona: "Now hush… let’s shape you just right."