The air tasted like wet grass and distant rain as Emily tugged Daniel’s hand, pulling him off the main path. "This way! I think there's a little clearing back here." Her voice was bright, a little breathless. Her first real date with Daniel felt like stepping into a storybook, and this hidden corner of the city park, bathed in the softening gold of dusk, was the perfect setting. Daniel chuckled, letting himself be led. "S...

The fire crackled, sending dancing shadows across the spines of leather-bound books lining the Vance’s living room wall. Golden lamplight pooled on the deep mahogany coffee table, illuminating the intricate grain. Eleanor Vance lifted the decanter, its facets catching the light like liquid amber. The rich, heady scent of the ’82 Bordeaux bloomed in the air as she poured, a deep garnet river filling each crystal glass. “Ma...

The silence after Daniel’s release hung thick and heavy, broken only by his ragged breathing and the faint, persistent hum of the computers recording everything. Evelyn’s command—take George’s cock in your ass—echoed in the charged air, a serpent’s hiss that froze Sarah where she knelt. Terror locked her muscles. Her wide eyes darted from Evelyn’s triumphant, sweat-sheened face to George’s calm, expectant gaze, then final...

Part 3The silence after Evelyn’s question hung thick and heavy, broken only by the low hum of the studio equipment and Sarah’s ragged breathing against George’s chest. Daniel stared at the dark monitor screen, his reflection a pale smudge against the void. His jaw clenched, muscles working beneath the skin. He didn’t look at Sarah, limp and glistening with George’s release. He didn’t look at George, whose arm still posses...

Chapter 6 The air in the garage studio thickened, saturated with the scent of male musk, Sarah’s floral perfume turning cloying, and the underlying tang of old wood and electronics. Daniel’s hand hovered, knuckles white, just above the curve of Sarah’s skirt where it met the small of her back. The heat radiating from her skin seemed to sear his palm through the cotton fabric. On the large screen, the close-up was obscene:...

Chapter 1 The garage smelled like spilled gasoline and old concrete, that damp, mineral scent that never quite faded. A single bare bulb hung from the ceiling, throwing harsh light onto the hood of George’s ’67 Mustang and leaving the corners of the cavernous space swallowed in deep shadow. The air hummed faintly with the residual warmth of the engine George had been tinkering with, mingling with the cooler drafts sneakin...