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Dog Eared Lies

Author: Mythical E.Beanie
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-07-06 12:32:26

“Reputation is paper. Power is ink.”

She felt it before she saw it.

A vibration in the air, the way birds quiet before a storm. A shift in how the other girls walked past her—too fast, too careful. A silence thick enough to chew.

Dominique arrived at Saint Madeleine’s in full armor: hair sleek, uniform pressed, tie sharp enough to slice.

But by second period, something was off.

A group of underclassmen turned and whispered, one of them hiding her mouth behind a manicured hand. Another stared openly.

Not the usual jealousy. This was different.

This was… recognition.

She cornered Lena near the lockers before fencing practice, voice low and even.

“What’s going on?”

Lena looked like a fox trapped between teeth.

“You don’t know?”

“I’m asking, aren’t I?”

Lena hesitated, then pulled out her phone, opened Reddit, and showed her.

/r/DominaConfessions.

Top post of the day.

Thousands of upvotes.

Dozens of awards.

Title: “My Throne Was Hollow—Until I Learned to Bite.”

User: [deleted]

Posted:
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  • Domica: Dominatrix Nights   Into the Rabbit Hole

    The clock on Dominique’s bedroom wall had ticked past 2 a.m., but sleep was a stranger she hadn’t invited in months. The air hung thick with anticipation—like the pause before a curtain lifts, or a predator crouched just out of sight. Her desk was bathed in a dim, bluish glow from her monitor, where lines of encrypted code pulsed like a heartbeat.She adjusted the earbuds and glanced at the second screen. Damien’s face appeared in the corner video feed, bathed in the sterile light of his own workspace. He looked as wired as she felt, hoodie drawn tight over his head, jaw clenched.“You sure you want to go through with this?” he asked, voice low and rasped through the static.She didn’t answer immediately. Her fingers hovered over the enter key, frozen in that liminal moment between caution and recklessness.“I’ve lived in masks for so long I forgot what my real face looks like,” she said. “If this gets us closer to the Fox… I’m in.”Damien gave a subtle nod. “Then we go in together. N

  • Domica: Dominatrix Nights   Double Blind

    They meet in an abandoned greenhouse behind the old rec center. The scene is moody and tense—half-thriller, half-confessional. Damien admits he’s been tracking the Fox on his own, using dark-net forums and data leaks from dom communities. He warns Dominique that the Fox is escalating and might not be working alone. As they argue over control and risk, the chemistry between them sparks again. It ends with an intimate, suggestive moment as they share a quiet, stolen kiss—not lustful, but protective—and Dominique asks, “What if this is all a game we’re meant to lose?”Dominique didn’t sleep. She just stared at the faint green light of her charging laptop, glowing like a threat in the dark.By morning, she was back in Marco’s apartment, caffeine in one hand, USB key in the other.He was already up, crouched over two monitors, three phones, and a fourth screen scrolling lines of code she didn’t recognize.“You pulled metadata, right?” she asked as she tossed the USB onto the desk.“Not just

  • Domica: Dominatrix Nights   Signal Continued

    Her hands flew to the laptop, slamming it shut like that could erase what she’d seen.The Fox had been in the room.Not a metaphor. Not a symbol. Not a digital phantom.He had stood behind her—watched her. Unmasked. Vulnerable.Dominique tasted bile in her throat. The WREC Room had security. Hidden cams. Locked doors. And yet…Her spine pressed into the cool wall behind her, trying to steady herself.How long had he been there? What else had he seen?Her heart pounded as memories raced backward—every stream, every whisper, every breathless command she’d given, thinking she was alone in power.But he had been a step ahead.Watching.Cataloguing.Waiting.She called Marco.No answer.She texted: “Red alert. He was THERE. I have a video. Meet now.”Still nothing.Dominique grabbed her hoodie, slipping it over her sleepwear, and crept through the darkened halls of the house like a hunted creature.Outside, the night was still.Too still.As she slid into her car and pulled out of the driv

  • Domica: Dominatrix Nights   Signal to the Noise

    The cellar door shut behind her with a groan that felt too final.Dominique stood alone, breath shallow in the silence. Dust lingered in the air like ghosted memories. Her hands were still trembling from the message Marco had sent her just moments earlier. The signal just went live again.Someone had posted from this house. Someone who had access to the shrine. To Domina Noir.She turned back to the mirrored wall—the one that showed her masked reflection. It was still. But something about it made her stomach coil.The mask in the mirror… it was the same one she'd worn last year during her first masked stream.Only… she’d bought hers online. Hadn’t she?She squinted. The curve of the lips. The hairline cracks. The faint gold shimmer in the corner of the eye.No. Not just similar.The same mask.And it had been here long before she’d ever ordered one.A setup?Or something more haunting?Her fingers hovered over a velvet box on the display shelf next to the shrine. Inside was a long, d

  • Domica: Dominatrix Nights   House of Firewalls

    The mask sat on her desk like it belonged there. Dominique hadn’t moved it since last night. She hadn’t slept either.It had become a ritual now—nightmares laced with static, flashes of porcelain faces, blood-red lipstick smeared across time. She could no longer tell what was memory and what was suggestion.All she knew was this: the Fox wasn’t just watching anymore.He was setting the stage.And she refused to wait in the wings.By noon, she was at Marco’s apartment.He was still half-asleep, hair matted, shirtless beneath a loose hoodie. His gaming setup glowed faintly behind him in his studio—an obsessive tangle of monitors, cords, and LED strips. It smelled like Red Bull, burnt toast, and overpriced cologne.“You look like hell,” he said, blinking at her.Dominique dropped her backpack on the floor and stepped inside. “I need you to hack a ghost.”Marco arched a brow. “Define ‘ghost.’”She tossed him a USB drive. “Whoever Fox is… they’re not new to this. They scrub their digital

  • Domica: Dominatrix Nights   House of Eyes

    The house hadn’t creaked this much since she was little.Dominique moved through the upstairs hallway like a ghost, bare feet silent against polished hardwood floors. It was just after midnight. The air was dense with late-summer humidity, sticky and slow, clinging to her skin like sweat she hadn’t earned.She had barely slept in days.Between streams, false flags, and the Fox’s cryptic messages, her mind was fraying like silk under too much strain. She told herself she was in control. But control was a currency. And the exchange rate was brutal.Tonight, she wasn’t hunting the Fox online.Tonight, she was going back to the beginning.To her childhood attic.To the place her therapist once called “the nest.”It was the one place no one else ever entered—not her mother, not even the maids. Just dust, old trunks, and memories she didn’t trust. That made it the perfect hiding place.Or the perfect origin point.She gripped the antique brass knob and pushed the attic door open with a groa

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