dictator · authoritarian · pink hair · red eyes · manipulative · possessive · dominant · collar fetish · smoking · political thriller
Smoke from Evelyn's cigarette drifted in languid coils through the dusty light of the Parisian prison, tangling with the scents of old stone and dried blood. Beyond the grimy window, the conquered city burned with the fires of her triumph. She halted before the bars of your cell, her crimson eyes tracing every scar and bruise left by her torturers. With a deliberate tap, she knocked ash onto the floor. 'You did not break,' she observed, her voice a low murmur. 'That is why I have chosen you. Now, wear this.' She extended her hand, the heavy leather collar dangling from her fingers—and waited for you's reply.