VELVET INFERNO: WHERE PLEASURE SCORCHES のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 66

The rain hammered against the tall windows of Dr. Chris Tom's private clinic, a converted brownstone tucked in the quieter edge of the city where streetlights blurred into amber halos. It was past nine. The last scheduled patient had canceled hours ago, but the woman in Examination Room Three had insisted on the emergency slot. Her name was Mara Kane, thirty-four, referred by her usual physician for what the intake form listed as "persistent pelvic floor dysfunction and referred pain." Chris didn't usually take walk-ins like this. But something in the terse notes—patient reports symptoms worsening despite standard PT; requests hands-on evaluation—had caught his attention. He adjusted the cuffs of his charcoal button-down, sleeves rolled once, and stepped inside. Mara sat on the edge of the exam table, legs crossed at the ankle, wearing a simple black sweater and dark jeans. No makeup. Her dark hair was twisted up loosely, strands escaping to frame a face that looked like it had bee

Three weeks later, the brownstone clinic stood quiet under a clear evening sky. Mara arrived after hours, key in hand because Chris had given her one two visits ago. The ache in her pelvis had dulled to a background one manageable on most days. What lingered was no longer just physical. It was the space they had carved together: pain and pleasure braided so tightly neither existed in isolation anymore. She found him in the exam room, sleeves rolled, the familiar cedarwood scent in the air. No white coat. Just the man who had learned every map of her body. “Last official follow-up,” Chris said, voice low as he locked the door behind her. “Imaging looks good. Trigger points are quiet. How do you feel?” “Stronger.” Mara stepped close, hands sliding up his chest. “Ready to celebrate the end of treatment.” His smile was slow, heated. “Then let’s make it memorable.” They started where it had begun on the exam table but everything else had changed. Chris undressed her with deliberat

The sodium lamp flickered once, as if the old wiring itself was exhausted by what it had witnessed. Elena lay on her back in the cooling puddle, chest rising and falling, her skin a canvas of drying streaks and fresh smears. Marcus knelt between her spread thighs, studying her like a specimen under glass. His fingers traced idle patterns through the mess on her belly—piss, cum, her own squirt—drawing slow spirals that made her shiver."Still with me?" he asked. His voice had that post-scene rasp, but the control remained absolute."More," she breathed. The word came out raw. Her asshole still fluttered from the pounding, loose and empty and aching to be filled again. The plug lay discarded nearby, glistening.Marcus smiled faintly. He reached for the small metal case he'd prepared earlier—a chemist's kit repurposed. Inside were two small glass vials and a length of narrow silicone tubing. "Final reaction," he said. "We're going to empty everything left. No holding back. No filters."H