The Qween B
The Qween B simply seeks a village of subjects to reign over. Born out of the idea that women were created to serve men, she forged her own fire and beat a path of flames on full charge to the gates of hell. That life though grew boring fairly quickly after a few millennium and she’d tread above and up, back to the land of men seeking her new audience. Her heart is black as black, her mind as twisted and thorny as the bougainvillea, only the bravest of people can stomach what Qween B brings to the chambers. Dare to play? Those who seek Fin-dom, sadism, mental domination, degradation & humiliation and other various atrocities – you will not be disappointed to become a part of this village.
Your Qween enjoys the finer things – heavy brocades, the scents of patchouli and nutmeg – though not combined, Pinot Noirs that pair with rare red meat, warm baths, cool eight hundred count threaded sheets, a long, emotionally disturbing stage play, laughter, plenty of coin and to see you grovel and worship at her feet.
What she wants to know, is how well you can sustain under the pressure of Qween B.