"Holding The Low Nuts"
Pat's knuckles went white around his cards. Seven-deuce offsuit. Garbage hand, but he couldn't fold—not yet. Not with John settling into his chair like he owned the place, cologne thick enough to taste. The same cologne that was probably still...
"The Cuck's Ante"
The camera feed held steady as Laura sauntered out of frame, her hips swinging with the kind of confidence that made Pat’s teeth ache. No backward glance. No dramatic exit. Just gone.The bull stayed. His gold tooth caught the light...
"The Cuck's Edge"
The rest of Mistress V’s spiel had been the usual—safewords, security, and where to find the servants’ stairways if they didn’t want to risk running into Bulls. Logistics. Venue rules. The kind of things that blurred into white noise when...