Bella is catching fire. She must be, because she's burning to death. It starts at her face, flushed and twisted into a desperate mockery of her real self, and it spreads down from there. Past her throat, which dries like she's walked through a desert, past her chest, where it sets her heart ablaze like an inferno that pounds and roars and tears her to pieces. Down, down, it seems to settle in her stomach so it can tickle and crawl around inside her like she was a garden unto herself filled with butterflies for Redana to admire and...

The fire spreads lower. It's morphing, shifting, changing into a boiling ocean. She's wet. Soaked. [i]Dripping.[/i] Her breaths comes in ragged flutters as she tries to squeeze her legs together, but it's hopeless. Her brain is soaked with fever dreams, chains falling away into soft silks, these fingers entwined around hers, Redana, Redana, Redana, looking like this, sounding like this, Redana Redana Redana, begging with her eyes and tongue against her lips as she opens herself in invitation to her Bella, Redana, Redana, Redana!!

Bella wrenches her fingers free from the Princess' so she can squeeze them into fists. Her claws press deep into her palms, deep and sharp and terrible, until the skin punctures and warm wet sweet relief goes flooding through her system disguised as pain. Only now does she dare to open her eyes. Her bright, golden eyes so full of pain until they deaden. Darken, and grow cold with fury. 

Mynx, you stupid cunt. Dumb bitch. Do you really think it's going to be [i]Redana[/i] who punishes you? She'll find your breaking point, and she'll hold you at it for hours. Do you want the brand or the whip? The salt or the crop? The collar or the muzzle? Imagine how much fun it's going to be, finding out what shape you pop into when you're beaten past the point where your little act can save you. Imagine how it's going to feel to dangle from chains just like these in that body, till you say the words, say sorry sorry sorry mercy please and you [i]mean[/i] them!

Bella draws a sharp breath through her nose. Her whole body is stiff and unyielding against the Princess'. Her tail has resorted back to clenching around Redana's stomach and squeezing in a way that confuses the lines between comforting, possessive, and spiteful. She lets the breath out, and with it she lets it all go. Her fists unclench and she smoothly spreads her fingers with their mysteriously wet claw tips open again to make them available again for Redana. If she wants them. If she needs them. If she'll have them.

She lets it all go. She'll be patient. A good gi-- a good maid always puts her Mistress' needs before her feelings. Always.