Phei stepped out of Unit 70D and let the door click shut behind him with the finality of a safe locking.
The corridor stretched away—same warm, expensive lighting, same sound-devouring carpet, same sterile anonymity the Sovereign Tower charged a fortune for and delivered with the cold efficiency of a Swiss bank vault.
He leaned back against the door, head tilted to the ceiling, and just… breathed.
Was that really my first time with actual real kinks? Like—actually? All of it?
The red leather, the black leather, the restraints that cost more than most people's rent, the camera tripod angled like a silent voyeur, the graduated dildo collection displayed on black foam like some high-end assassin's toolkit, the ball gag still faintly scented with Amber's lip gloss, the blindfold, the flogger that had left such pretty pink lattice on her thighs, the edging sessions that had her sobbing around the gag, the denial that turned her into a trembling, dripping mess begging through tears—
