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Sensory Overload

Author: Tyson Roy
last update Last Updated: 2025-08-10 00:06:03

By now, Elysium had become a second home. I knew the echoes in the hallways, the scent of candle wax and leather, the hum of anticipation when a scene began. But I also understood that each new experience could strip away assumptions I didn’t know I had. When Victor suggested a sensory deprivation exercise, I was equal parts nervous and curious.

“Depriving senses can heighten the others,” he explained as we sat in his office discussing boundaries. “It can induce a meditative state. We will negotiate carefully. You will remain clothed. I will use blindfolds and earplugs. I will touch only your arms and shoulders. Your safe words remain the same.”

We talked about signals since earplugs would muffle his voice. We agreed on a simple squeeze system: if I squeezed his hand once, it meant “slow down”; twice meant “stop.” He would keep contact with me at all times.

In the appointed room—lit softly despite my inability to see it—Victor stood before me, hands steady. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” I
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  • Shadows of Desire   D/s Ritual

    The room smelled faintly of leather and candle wax. Victor had chosen his penthouse playroom for this moment—not the club, not the Red Room, not anywhere touched by others’ eyes. Just us.I stood barefoot on the thick rug, my heartbeat thudding louder than the soft cello music drifting from the corner. The envelope of our signed contract lay on the low table between us, its edges crisp and final.“This is more than parchment and ink,” Victor said, his voice low, steady, the kind of sound that wrapped around me and pulled me closer. “Tonight, we make it flesh. Visible. Felt.”My lips parted, breath shaky. “You mean…”He reached into a black velvet box on the table and lifted a collar. Not the rough kind I’d seen others wear at Elysium, but a smooth band of midnight leather, polished and supple, lined with satin. At the centre was a simple silver ring, gleaming under the candlelight.My knees weakened.“Victor…” My voice caught on his name.His blue eyes pinned me in place. “Little one,

  • Shadows of Desire   Turnabout Scene

    Victor chose the one room that had never been touched by Elysium’s eyes—his private playroom in the penthouse, the one he swore he swept himself after Marco’s latest discoveries. Before we began, he made a simple show of it, passing a slim detector along the vents and crown molding, pausing by the sconces, the mirror, the heavy velvet drapes. The device stayed quiet, its little green light unblinking.“For tonight,” he said, turning off the scanner and setting it aside, “we let the world fall away.” He looked at me the way he does when he’s about to take the reins—except tonight, he wouldn’t. “And you,” he added, voice softer, “will not be my submissive.”The words landed like a bell struck in my chest—bright, thrilling, a little terrifying.“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admitted, palms damp. “Not like you do.”“Of course you don’t,” he said, stepping closer, thumbs brushing the inside of my wrists, warming the chill there. “That’s why we practice. That’s why I’m here.”I tried for

  • Shadows of Desire   Cassie Contemplates Honesty

    The letter began and ended a dozen different ways.The first draft was cold, clinical, more like an article than a confession. “My name is Cassandra Monroe, and I entered Elysium on assignment…” I crumpled it after the second line, hating how impersonal it sounded.The second draft was too apologetic, bleeding with guilt. “I never meant to hurt you. I only wanted a story.” That one went into the trash too, because it wasn’t true. I hadn’t only wanted a story. I’d wanted to understand desire, to peel back layers of the city’s most secretive club. And now—now I wanted Victor. All of him.By the third draft, my hands were shaking, the ink blurring from the sweat on my fingertips. “Victor, I lied to you. I came here as a journalist, not just a woman curious about surrender. I wrote notes, I planned to publish them. But then you touched me. And you made me see myself.”I stared at the words until my vision blurred. They felt truer, but still incomplete.I pressed the pen to the page again,

  • Shadows of Desire   Leo and Jennifer’s Tension

    I wasn’t supposed to overhear. But in Elysium, secrets had a way of finding me—even when I wasn’t looking for them.I’d gone to the lounge late, craving the quiet. My notebook was tucked under my arm, but writing was the last thing on my mind. My thoughts were still tangled in the discovery of the hidden cameras, the way Victor’s fury smoldered behind his calm. I wanted stillness, but instead, I found voices raised in the corridor outside Jennifer’s private chambers.Leo’s voice—sharper than I’d ever heard it.“Who were you meeting, Jennifer?”I froze.Jennifer’s laugh followed, low and smooth, but not amused. “Careful, darling. You’re starting to sound like a jealous boyfriend.”Leo’s reply cut through the silence like a lash. “Don’t turn this into a game. I saw you. Twice this week. Slipping out, always with that same look. Who is it?”My pulse quickened. I crept closer, standing just beyond the curtain that divided the hall.Jennifer’s heels clicked against the floor as she moved.

  • Shadows of Desire   Hidden Cameras

    I thought the sound recorders were the worst of it. As if listening in on our scenes, our whispered secrets, was violation enough. But when Victor called me into the Red Room after hours with Marco at his side, I knew by the storm in his eyes that something even darker had been uncovered.The room was dim, stripped of its usual glow. No candles tonight, no sensual music. Just harsh white work lights that threw everything into sharp relief. Victor stood near the wall, his arms folded, his body radiating fury barely contained. Marco was crouched on a chair, flashlight in hand, his lean frame half inside one of the ventilation grates.“Cassie,” Victor said, his voice a low rumble. “Come here.”I obeyed instantly, the command threading heat through my belly even as dread tightened my chest.Marco’s voice echoed from inside the vent. “Got another one.”He pulled himself out, holding a tiny black object between his fingers. It was barely larger than a button, a sleek, almost invisible devic

  • Shadows of Desire   The Infirmary Scene

    When Victor told me the next demonstration would take place in the “infirmary,” I almost laughed. Elysium was built for opulence, for shadows and silk—not for white walls and exam tables. But when I stepped through the door, my chest tightened.The room was transformed into a clinical fantasy. Bright lights glared down on a polished steel table, cabinets lined with labeled bottles, and a heart monitor that beeped faintly for atmosphere. A tray of instruments gleamed in the light—stainless steel speculums, latex gloves, even a stethoscope coiled like a serpent.My throat closed. Hospitals had always been my private nightmare. My mother’s long illness, the endless sterile visits, the smell of antiseptic that clung to my hair when I was a child—I’d carried it with me like a scar.I hesitated at the threshold.Dr. Elise Chen looked up from adjusting her gloves. She was poised and elegant, her black hair pulled into a neat bun, her expression calm but commanding. In her day life, she was a

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