He doesn't belong. Or so he thinks.
Natalia D'Vera, the enigmatic high priestess of the club, hasn't taken a submissive in years. But something about Donald calls to her, his careful self-containment, his buried need to unravel. She doesn't want to break him. She wants to reveal him.
What follows is not a love story in the traditional sense, it's a ritual. A reclamation. Each scene deeper, stranger, more liberating than the last. Donald finds himself kneeling in rooms he doesn't remember walking into, performing acts he swore he'd never want. Until her voice made them sacred.
But as he falls deeper, he must face the final question: when your body becomes someone else's canvas, is what's painted on it finally who you really are?
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