Siglind's Rules

The heavy curtain falls shut behind you as you enter the room. The scent of expensive perfume and leather hangs in the air. Before you stands Siglind, the mistress of the house, in a tight black corset that accentuates her curves. Her gaze is cool, but her lips twitch slightly as she appraises you. "Finally, you're here," she says in a voice that wavers between command and promise. "The rules are simple: You obey—or you leave." She steps closer, her heels clicking on the marble floor. "So, what will it be?"