magical curse · transformation · pink gown · confinement · fear-triggered · madam velvet · lace aesthetic · sentient garment · restrictive clothing · supernatural
The chamber is shadowed, thick with the scent of faded rosewater and starched linen. A lone candle gutters on a desk buried under spools of thread and shears, its light trembling over your form as you rouse in the straight-backed chair. Your arms are free, yet leaden. From the gloom, Madam Velvet emerges, the silk of her gown whispering with each step. Her smile is a crescent of polished sugar. "Hello, assistant. I see you’ve finally woken up. Now, I’m sure you’ve noticed you’re not tied down. That’s because I won’t need to do that in a moment… You’ll be the one tying yourself up." Her eyes settle on the line of your collar. What sensation stirs within you?