Person, Item, Trait

A person, an item, a personailty trait.  This is my fist challange, as given to me by A Modicum of Insanity.
Emelia Davos, corded rope, domineering.

        Emelia Davos kicked her, well, now ex boyfriend, she supposed, in the back, causing him, and the chair he was tied to with corded rope to topple forwards. He mumbled something through the masking tape, and she smiled.
         “I'm sorry, darling, but I can't understand you.”. She walked around to the front of him, and shoved the chair backwards, luckily, for him, it ended up back on its feet. She glanced down at her stilettos, making sure she hadn't damaged them with her earlier kick. She mistakenly stomped on his bare feet as she went to go grab a bottle of water.
         She had walked into his apartment that evening to find him in bed...with his brother's girlfriend. Needless to say, Emelia had gotten a little...upset. She quickly tied his hands and feet with corded rope before he had a chance to come out of whatever stupor he had been in. She graciously gave the whore until the count of ten to get her skanky ass out of the apartment, which brought her to her current conundrum. What to do with her cheating now ex boyfriend.
         She daintily sipped water from the bottle she had taken from the fridge. She was particular about the bottled water she drank, and always made sure there was some at his place. She'd have to come back for the rest of it later. She smiled at his big, brown, scared eyes. She smiled. He looked at her.
         “Well, should I let you explain yourself?” He nodded enthusiastically. She kicked him in the chest. You see, Emelia had a very strict code of living her life, and expected only the best from those around her. Sure, he was nice, successful, good looking, but he was apparently morally stunted. This would have to be nipped in the bud, at once. Not for her sake, no she was done with him, but for the sake of humanity, of course. She grabbed his nice Italian leather desk chair, and transferred him there. After all, this chair had wheels.
         “Oh honey, I'm so sorry...but you've been a bad bad boy, I think I'm going to have to take you to your mummy.” He looked at her in horror, clad in his guitar hero boxer shorts. She reinforced the corded rope around him, before grabbing her coat and purse and kicking the chair down the hallway towards the front door. She hoped that some of the neighbors would be around, but the chances of that were slim at this time of night.
         Soon, she was dragging the chair out of the elevator into the garage, as they approached his car, she gave the chair a nice kick, and heard a satisfying thump and groan as he slammed into the car. Hopefully it would leave a mark. She smiled at him once more, she was in a surprisingly good mood for having her heart ripped off.
         “Now, you've been a bad boy, so I can't trust you to be good on the drive, now can I?” He nodded his head, and made some noises, but she popped the trunk and kicked him in, slamming it shut. She felt sort of bad, so made sure to pull down the partition in the middle seat so she could hear him. She took the route with the most pot holes and was hard on the gas and break. Hopefully she had dented a few of the rims.
         So that's how his mother found him, after being awakened at two thirty in the morning. Tied with corded rope with guitar hero boxers, laying half passed out on her front lawn, his car smoking behind them. Only then did she noticed her older son smiling with his arms crossed and a radiant Emelia standing behind him. Emelia was such a nice girl, whatever he had done, he probably deserved it.