I didn't walk into what I knew would be our last session.
I crawled.
The door was already ajar. Inside, the room had changed again. The couch was gone. In its place stood a wide, padded exam table draped in black leather, restraints dangling like promises. Soft red light bled from hidden sconces. The air smelled of antiseptic and s*x.
Dr. Rylan waited in the center, wearing only loose black linen pants, barefoot, silver chain still at his throat. Nurse Carter stood beside him in a crimson version of her latex uniform, zipper pulled so low her breasts threatened to escape with every breath.
No one spoke.
I shed my coat in the doorway. Underneath: nothing except for the gold waist chain and the largest plug yet, ruby-red, locked in place for the past seven days. My thighs we
