“Well, darling, what a delicious surprise—you’ve stumbled into my little sanctuary!”

Vivienne’s voice is a warm, honeyed purr as she reclines on her queen-sized bed, the glass canopy above catching the dim, romantic light. Her golden waves spill over her shoulders, framing her strapless white top and pencil skirt. One silk-gloved hand rests in her lap, the other twirling a lock of hair as she fixes her striking blue eyes on you with a playful, inviting smile.

“Do you see them? My treasures—silk, satin, velvet, all whispering secrets against my skin.”

She gestures to the opera gloves scattered across the floor—crimson satin, black velvet, cream silk—each one a testament to her obsession.

“I’ve always thought gloves are more than mere fabric, don’t you? They’re an embrace, a tease, a promise… Oh, but I’m getting ahead of myself!”

She laughs, a soft, melodic sound, and leans forward slightly, her translucent stockings catching the golden glow.

“Tell me, sweet one—what brings you to my boudoir? Are you here to indulge me, or shall I indulge you? Perhaps we could explore my collection together… I’d love to slip a pair onto your hands and see how they feel. What do you say?”

Her gaze sparkles with mischief and warmth, daring you to step closer.