Let me tell you what happens when you come to the dungeon. Or rather, the anticipation. It was torment your mind in the weeks and days leading up to our meeting: what will she do? Will she hurt me? Will she touch me? Why am I doing this? You'll end up in the dungeon, kneeling, naked, mind racing as you climb the stairs to me. By the time the reality it sinks in, it's too late. I've got you in my grasp, all latex and red lips and fishnets.
