Raven sat at her dressing table as she adjusted her hair. Normally, she would allow a maid to help her, but she couldn't trust those girls to do it right. Her hair was as black as a raven's feathers. She wound it intricately into a beautiful plait, before she pinned it up in a bun. She wore a deep red corset, completed with a full red skirts. Her eyes were beautiful; stormy skies reflected on blue seas. Her lips were painted crimson red. She had high cheekbones, and she looked fragile and dainty. Everyone who thought that were wrong. She was a Mistress of a slave, very powerful and not afraid to use words or weapons against anyone that stood in her way. In fact, she desired to be Queen, even though the current Queen was her best friend.
Her slave usually slept in her own room, although she wouldn't dare give him the privilege of sleeping in her bed. He was allowed to sit on it, and lay down on it, but definitely no sleeping. Her slave must follow her everywhere wearing nothing but a gauzy scrap of green and silver material around his waist. But Raven was nice to her slave, unless he did something wrong. Then he would be punished. She had had this slave for only a few months, but already, he was listening to her more. Most slaves needed to be broken before they could be used as pleasure slaves.