I follow him inside. The air vacates my lungs in a chest-crushing exhale. Gleaming silver fetish toys line the wall. Clamps. Chains. Leather. A red cane is prized and center. Ropes of all shades, widths, sizes coil against the black, dangle from above. At the far end, a St. Andrew’s cross. A torture chamber. Colton must sense my unease, because his hand tightens around mine as he leads me deeper into the room. “This is my personal…space.” He turns to face me, his mouth a hard line, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m more of a collector than a Dom, Sadie. My passion is bondage, ropework in particular. So don’t let the decoration intimidate you. Or scare you.” Intimidate? No…that’s the wrong word. Scare? Not powerful enough to express the sickening fear invading my soul. This is a dungeon—too similar to the one where I was sealed away in for days…lost. Helpless. Stripped… Read more »
Author: Trisha Wolfe
From an early age, Trisha Wolfe dreamed up fantasy worlds and characters and was accused of talking to herself. Today, she lives in South Carolina with her family and writes full time, using her fantasy worlds as an excuse to continue talking to herself.