Raw Pleasures
His presence was an anchor in the madness; a single shift of his posture drew them all taut.
He gestured, and a servant stepped forward with a velvet pouch heavy with gilded cards. The rules were simple: draw, and you either dare… or serve.
Nerida was the first to stand, her ocean-blue mask glinting, her voice airy as she tried to laugh away her nerves. She reached into the pouch, pulling free a card. “Command your man to taste you under the table until you cannot laugh anymore.”
Bab Populer