The dim glow of the tattoo parlor’s neon sign flickered against the rain-streaked windows, casting a sultry crimson hue over the black leather chairs. The air smelled of antiseptic and ink, thick with the hum of the needle gun and the low thrum of bass-heavy music pulsing from the speakers. Catherine sat first, her long legs crossed, her fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest. She wore a tight black tank top tha...

The dim, pulsing glow of neon lights bathed the entrance of Velvet Touch, the city’s most infamous gentlemen’s club, where the air smelled of cheap cologne, spilled whiskey, and the thick, musky scent of arousal. Inside, the bass of the music thrummed through the floorboards, vibrating up through the soles of high heels and polished dress shoes alike. The stage was a shrine to sin, its black lacquered surface reflecting t...

Dear Diary, The weekend was here, and I was ready for action. It had been a couple of weeks since my tryst with Dom and John. rubbed one out as I lay in bed, remembering how they made me their slut and shagged me like a cheap whore, whilst I rubbed one out. My orgasm was good, but the craving remained. I was in desperate need of a good shag. On Fridays, the Anchor pub drew a large crowd. There was sure to be a good select...