How aware she is of his eyes on upon her, good, she had his attention then. Desperation gripped the air like the dress that clung to her hips. The steady beat of her silver clad heels purposely caressing the fallen Tobias' crumpled form. The sound of sizzling flesh from the caress of silver and that distinct scent of burning caresses her sensitive nose. Oh, she definitely had Tetradore's attention, almost exactly where she wants him, but not quite. That sneer upon his face displays that outward defiance. He would pay for that, like always, she was keeping score. Yet truly he must know that at the very core of him that he can do nothing to raise against her. He could only watch in desperation while he and his cherished friend lay in wait for her mercy. When did that devil woman ever show someone mercy?

How brittle that very 'no' truly was. That poignant silence after her voice reaches for him like tendrils with hooks, his conceding had come far too late. One would think for someone who claimed to be so smart, to run a business, to lead! He was so terribly, imprudent and naive to think that now, she would spare him after all that so-called sanctimonious defiance. "You should have thought of that before you defied me, mon chat." Her liquid voice is deceptively soft, those apathetic eyes hold a promise for those far more disagreeable festivities to come. That caress of a smile brushes across her crimson lips, her tongue running along the back of her teeth in certain anticipation of what was to come. These were the games she truly enjoyed. Watching her panther break right before her very eyes, piece by piece. The time for playing was quickly coming to a close and soon her little mouse would be destroyed from the inside out. Those scars could not heal so quickly as her mark did.

How that sick satisfaction rolls within her gut before those powers reach toward that defective feline. It was time to raise the stakes. After all, how unsatisfying the festivities before were proving to be thus far. How easily that command came from that expert puppeteer to encourage the leopard to eat its own tongue, not that she needed the words to do so, that influencing will was more than enough. How if only Tetradore knew, the crumpled creature was truly the unusable snow leopard from that recovery mission. At least now she wasn't completely hopeless, the leopard serving her purpose as a ploy in her never-ending game with her pet. The perfect game to drive that point home.

She could see the way he moves that he was in pain, Darcy had been nothing but thorough in his disciplinary action that even as Tetradore desperately tries to keep that tongue in his companion's mouth it still pained him to do so. It was only in vain. She nearly cannot contain her own laughter observing that scene, surely there was a joke somewhere within this madness that only the wicked temptress could take such delight in.

Risque slithered her way to draw closer, to gloat in this masterpiece she so seamlessly creates. How she prefers him here, on the ground at her feet while she runs those fingers clad with sharpened talons through Tetradore's hair while he does nothing. He simply takes it and oh how she revels in that complete submission while allowing that feline affinity brush against him. Another reminder, of his place, that very touch almost like a gentle brush of finger tips on skin. But it simply did not end there. No, it never did as she pummeled him with that power suddenly without holding back an ounce, without warning, abruptly pulling away.

How intoxicating it was to simply let it all go, to drive that force into him, through him to completely claim what was hers. That promise echoes like a ghost from her crimson lips as she devours his fear, lapping it up like she was starved of it. In reaction, the plush pads of her fingertips brush across her own lips as though she delighted in that touch all the same. All whilst considering, contemplating her next move. She could see the tendrils of shadows seem to form out of nowhere as though he tried to teleport away. With a flick of her wrist, her hand is before her slowly clenching into a fist just for show. She only needed to think it, to keep him stationary, to keep Tetradore where he stood. "No. Bad little mouse, trying to run away from me." That was when another assault of that affinity crashes into him with relentless plight, pulling out his panther in that suffocating, overpowering sweep. How she had never truly wielded her power quite in this fashion, with such brutal clarity. Before, she would always toy and tease with certain finesse. Not now, now there is a sharp command, no teasing, no suggestion, it was immediate.

The cry of pain rips from his lips, flooding that office as his body snaps and rearranges before her at her feet. She cannot help that dark sound of amusement that escapes her then! She could not help but greedily enjoy the way he bends and break with complete obedience. That cry no longer human as his vocal chords turn him into that magnificent beast. Why hadn't she unleashed on him like this before? By the time that cry dies upon his lips, the shift had completed and he was transformed into her hellish felid, panting from that pain and reluctance. Alpha he was not when he was beneath her complete control. How her chains and hooks weaved within his flesh, she could feel it, feel the pull of her sway manipulate his every action. She could feel that resistance, but it was nothing against the onslaught she continues to control him with.

Risque circles them, that tight predatory circle as she watches from all angles, ever the voyeur in that sadistic demise. In that moment, nothing else existed except the culmination of this moment, the final thread that would unravel Tetradore entirely. With every collision of her heel hitting the ground that seems to mirror Tobias' weakening heart. That heartbeat, seemed like a musical backdrop, something almost ancient and enchanting, a culmination in unstitching that precarious sanity her panther seemed to cling to.

Her emerald eyed panther works with adept and impressive ease, slicing away that obedient skin with his claws, before his face was buried in that hole within that chest cavity. That hesitation did not go unnoticed. It would all be over soon. What a waste of that blood that so easily flows from that deep laceration in that leopards chest. How she could not deny the pull of it, her own yearning for that delectable blood toying with her like a sensual tease. Testing her own resolve, a resolve she had centuries to master. That adept patience and distinct knowing made it almost easy.

The she-devil stops behind Tetradore, looking over the shoulder of her large glossy black jaguar with distinct anticipation before he suddenly rips out that heart from his companion's chest. She would distinctly remember the sound that reluctant heart made as it was so suddenly removed with those brutal jaws. What a glorious sight! She tips her head in what seems like approval before she slides across that room to her throne, turning that chair so she could watch the rest of that spectacle in comfort. The vampire nothing short of regal looking, like a queen she was, apathetically poised and ruthless. How she savours that very moment as Tetradore obediently chokes to consume that very heart, that meat so very tough. He needed to work for it to rip just so, before consuming it, piece by bloody piece.

Then like a good little pet he remembered that final detail, that command she had made to bring her his childhood friend's tail. She sat, leaning back into that chair with a cruel smile painted upon her lips, it was subtle and yet relishing in her victory. Her powers had all but recoiled, almost, except for the presence of them remaining, like they always did. A ghost of a reminder that he belonged to her, inclusively. "You have always been a pleasure to watch work." That comment fell idly from her lips like an appreciative sigh. She hums like a cat purring as he prowls toward her, that tail betwixt his teeth.

He sat before her like an obedient pet, the slick wetness of blood dripping from his obsidian lips. Relishing in the site for a moment before Risque plucked that tail from him then, allowing her finger tips to run along that softness, relishing in it still being warm before wrapping that spotted tail around her neck, either side draped around her flesh. "It suits me, non?" How she gloats. Knowing very well she wasn't going to get a response, not that she needed one.

She made a sound of actual enjoyment before peering into those vibrant emerald eyes. Aw, was that sadness lingering in there? She hardly cared, but there wasn't an ounce of defiance left in him. How his slumped body was a perfect mirror of that.

She leans forward, so her head lingers right before the Tetradore's feline face, her own petite nose nearly bumping into his own. She drew in the scent of blood, how intoxicating it was. She reaches forward suddenly, abruptly placing both slender hands on either side of his cheek.

"Oh, Tetradore. I think I have you right where I want you." She nearly preens, suddenly pressing her own cheek against that large cats face, not caring if blood smears, sacrificially painted across her own cheek in the process. That action almost seems affectionate, disturbingly catlike.

She brings her crimson lips to his twitching ear, a wicked smile upon her lips that allow for those ominous fangs to peek out. "No more disobedience..." She whispers, cradling the back of his head with her left hand, digging those manicured talons into him. "If you do, the rest of your pitiful world will come crashing down upon you to ruin, like ash. Never forget that."

She leans in further before uttering those final words, that tail hanging from her neck like a morbid trophy. "Now fill my cup.." She leans back easily, fighting the urge to lick that bloodied muzzle. She grabs an empty glass, placing it upon the ground between them, eyes almost expectant then. How she anticipates him to inflict himself with a wound to fill that cup. She idly strokes that tail around her neck as she waits.. taking more and the some more until there was nothing left for Tetty to give. Simply because she could and he was hers to do as she saw fit.

Risque

just face the moon and put your death mask on