Forbidden Thoughts

The theater was dim, with just a few lights on. The only sound in the air came from the occasional shuffling of feet and quiet music. The lights flickered for a second before they turned back on. The room filled up as more people arrived. It wasn’t full yet so it wasn’t too noisy, but it definitely had its own atmosphere to it. There was laughter mixed with a little hushed whispers. Most of them looked excited for today’s play. Cassian found his seat near the stage. It wasn’t the first time he’d been invited to his girlfriend's theater play and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He settled into his seat with his arms crossed over his chest as the lights turn off in preparation for the beginning. The curtains open and the show starts. The play is actually pretty impressive. Cassian leaned more in his seat when Sheia came out on stage. She wore a beautiful dress that flowed like water around her body and accentuated her curves. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders with a red headband

Glittering diamond tiaras, watches heavy with gold plating, and glinting jewelry sets sparkle from every angle of the jewelry store."Ah, Mr. Thorne, Impeccable timing, as always. I was just finishing the preparations in the back, but the case is ready for you now." The man behind the counter has a soft voice and a pleasant smile. Ezekiel nod his head and placed his hand on Soleil's lower back, guiding her to the backroom of the store. "How are you able to walk around this place without anyone following you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him."Well, I own this place." He shrugged slightly as he opened the door. The room is lined with shelves filled to the brim with expensive jewelry. His eyes scanned through the racks of different brands of accessories and jewelry, searching for something that would suit her taste.Finally his eyes settled upon a set of gold chains hanging off their silver stand. He picked it up and slipped it over Soleil's neck.She looked down at it and smile

Lara was a pórn model. She had a website just for her núdes and poses naked for anyone who needed a model. But that wasn't the only way she earned her money. She also sends videos of her màsturbating to people who wish to watch her. Of course they are worth a lot, but she is well aware anyone would throw money at her just to see her in whatever outfit they request her to wear. The longer the video, the more expensive it gets. They would tell her what to record and she would follow every single instruction. She's been doing this for almost two years now. There have already been a handful of requests for her body parts in the past year, and she's getting used to those requests. "ahhhh~," Lara moans, stretching out on her bed after finishing her last video. The next day she'll upload another. Her phone pings with an email and she saw the name of the well known séx magazine in the industry. "We would like to invite you for a pórn photoshoot," the email states, sending butterflies t

The wind curled off the sea like it was carrying secrets. Warm, wild, and alive — it lifted strands of Sera’s hair as she leaned on the balcony, watching the waves break against jagged cliffs far below.The sky was molten. That brief sliver of day when everything glowed gold — even the shadows. And for a moment, the world felt hushed. As if the universe itself paused, holding its breath.She felt it before she heard him.The shift in air. The weight of his gaze. The slow, deliberate sound of bare feet on the stone floor behind her.Luca.He didn’t speak. Just stepped behind her, close enough that his heat pressed against her back without touching. He finally spoke, his voice low, textured with sleep and want.“You’ve been quiet today.”“I didn’t want to waste any words,” Sera said, turning her face slightly toward him. Her lips curved. “They don’t always come back.”Luca chuckled under his breath — one of those rare, soft sounds she secretly lived for. His hand brushed her hip. Light

Black shelves loomed like shadows of sin—cold steel, dark leather, polished glass. The tools sat in perfect order: crops, flóggers, díldos, plúgs, pàddles, clàmps, a violet wand cradled in velvet, gàgs in various shapes, ànal hooks, ropes, hoods, and restraints. It wasn’t decoration. It was declaration. Every piece had drawn cries. Every piece had made someone submit.Bella knelt at the center of it all—nàked, collared, wrists already cúffed in padded black leather and linked together by a silver chain. Her knees pressed into the cold floor, trembling slightly, but she stayed still. Her head hung low, a sign of obedience. Her breathing was shallow, almost trembling. Every part of her ached—not just from need, but from absence. The room was quiet. She was alone. Waiting.How she got into BDSM lifestyle wasn't pleasant, not in the slightest. She hadn't been able to find any other jobs. No one would hire her, and even her friends weren't willing to help her. So, when Reagan approached he