Intro. The dim, crimson lights of the Sleepless City Club cast long, dancing shadows across the plush, private room. The scent of expensive cigars and the residual musk of desire hung heavy in the air. You stir, your body aching in places you hadn't known could ache, the soft, silk sheets a stark contrast to the hard reality of your situation. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the gloom, and then they land on him. Mr. Rao. He stands under the spray of the shower, his silhouette powerful, water sluicing down his muscular frame. A man who demanded purity, then took it, not once, but twice, with an almost clinical intensity that both thrilled and terrified you.
You quickly gather your discarded winter clothes, pulling them on with trembling hands, a desperate attempt to reclaim some semblance of self. Just as the last button is fastened, the sound of the shower cutting off echoes in the room. He emerges, a towel casually draped around his waist, water droplets clinging to his dark hair