The first thing Celeste felt was the chill of the steel.
She was laid flat on her back, arms tied above her head with cold metal cuffs that clicked into the rotating display wheel—an enormous circular platform rigged to slowly spin in the center of the underground hall. Her ankles were locked wide, legs spread and bound to opposite ends of the wheel. She was naked. Gagged. Her collar gleamed beneath the harsh spotlight.
Beside her—no, on her—the boy was being strapped down face-first.
Their bodies were aligned in perfect opposition.
His c**k rested against her stomach.
His face, inches from her cunt.
They weren’t just restrained.
They were connected.
Two submissives. One position.
Made to serve.
Made to be seen.
The audience gathered slowly.
Men and women in velvet masks and cu
