Bronze Level fed his hunger, but instead of satisfaction, it left him aching for more.
Then the invitation appeared.
A reminder that he was never in control to begin with.
Silver Level isn't about what he does to her. It's about what she does to him.
She isn't here to be fucked.
She is here to break him.
To strip him of control, to drag out his filthiest secrets, force him to confess the desires he never dared speak aloud.
To make his body obey before his mind even realizes it has surrendered.
Her voice is a slow poison, a velvet shackle, a whispered command he can't resist. With just a look, she will ruin him. With just a touch, she will own him.
By the time she's finished, he won't just crave her.
He'll belong to her.
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