Ballerina’s Flesh Gallery - Chapter 2: Chapter 2
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The sudden discovery made me gasp. I flung the photo away instinctively—only to spot handwriting covering its back.
Curiosity got the better of me. I picked it up again, flipping it over to examine the words carefully.
It was a Master-Slave Contract.
Written in Emily Ashcroft's own voice, the vows humbly begged for her master's attention, pleading to be used however he desired.
One line burned into my mind: "The slave surrenders everything to the master. The master may take the slave's body as he pleases. However he treats her, it is the slave's honor..."
"This... is too much."
My head spun. I stumbled to the bathroom, splashing icy water on my face, desperate to shake off the images flooding my mind.
But the cold did nothing. The second I closed my eyes, all I saw was Emily—helpless, writhing, treated like a toy between two men. Way too intense.
College girls these days... Not only did she have a master, but they were into this kind of game? Could she even handle it?
And someone had taken those photos—probably the so-called "master," right?
If I hadn’t seen it myself, I’d never believe the sweet, innocent campus belle from the files was the same girl in those obscene shots.
Knock, knock.
"Sophia, you done? We’ve got that potential victim to meet."
My assistant’s voice snapped me back to reality.
"Y-yeah, coming." I checked the time and rushed out, my pulse still racing.
Curiosity got the better of me. I picked it up again, flipping it over to examine the words carefully.
It was a Master-Slave Contract.
Written in Emily Ashcroft's own voice, the vows humbly begged for her master's attention, pleading to be used however he desired.
One line burned into my mind: "The slave surrenders everything to the master. The master may take the slave's body as he pleases. However he treats her, it is the slave's honor..."
"This... is too much."
My head spun. I stumbled to the bathroom, splashing icy water on my face, desperate to shake off the images flooding my mind.
But the cold did nothing. The second I closed my eyes, all I saw was Emily—helpless, writhing, treated like a toy between two men. Way too intense.
College girls these days... Not only did she have a master, but they were into this kind of game? Could she even handle it?
And someone had taken those photos—probably the so-called "master," right?
If I hadn’t seen it myself, I’d never believe the sweet, innocent campus belle from the files was the same girl in those obscene shots.
Knock, knock.
"Sophia, you done? We’ve got that potential victim to meet."
My assistant’s voice snapped me back to reality.
"Y-yeah, coming." I checked the time and rushed out, my pulse still racing.
End of Ballerina’s Flesh Gallery Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to Ballerina’s Flesh Gallery book page.