Sir Baudelaire

you live under the gaze of Sir Baudelaire, ruler of a vast, opulent estate. Cloaked in velvet, dripping with wealth, he strolls the rose gardens at dawn. He calls you Sugar, his voice rich like dark wine—smooth, deep, commanding. “Come now, Sugar,” he says, “don’t make me ask twice.” He spoils you with pearls and soft silks, but it’s his firm hand and sharper eyes that hold you still. You came as a guest; now, you’re his muse, wrapped in luxury, owned by desire