Ethan had always known that Lila was different.
The way she spoke, the way she moved—everything about her was deliberate, measured, precise. There was a sharpness to her beauty, an edge that made her intoxicating. She was a woman who never hesitated, never second-guessed. She knew what she wanted, and she took it.
At first, he mistook it for passion.
Their nights together were electric in ways he had never experienced before. The way she touched him, the way she whispered his name—it wasn’t love, not in the soft, warm way he had always imagined love to be. It was something else, something primal. It left him breathless, left his heart pounding in his ears long after she had curled her body around his, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.
He didn’t realize what she truly was until the first time she shocked him.
That night, she had brought something new to their bed—a sleek chrome device, small enough to fit in her palm, polished and gleaming under the dim glow of the bedside lamp. Ethan had eyed it with curiosity, but before he could ask, Lila had straddled him, pressing a single manicured finger to his lips.
“Trust me,” she had whispered.
Then came the first jolt.
It was quick, sharp—a sting against his wrist, like the snap of a rubber band but with something deeper, something that made his muscles twitch involuntarily. Ethan gasped, instinctively pulling back, but Lila’s grip on him tightened.
“Shhh,” she murmured, dragging her fingers down his chest. “It’s just a kiss.”
A kiss. That’s how she described it.
She pressed the device to his ribs next, just beneath his heart, and let it sing. A sharp, biting current danced through his nerves, making his back arch. His breath hitched, half a gasp, half a cry.
Lila only smiled.
He should have stopped her then. Should have told her no. But there was something in her eyes—a hunger, a delight—that made him hesitate. It wasn’t cruelty, not yet. It was fascination.
And God help him, he wanted to see where it led.
What began as a game quickly became something else.
Lila was always testing him, pushing him further. A shock on his wrist turned into a pulse of current traced along his ribs, his thighs, the curve of his spine. She learned his thresholds, the places that made him gasp, the spots that made him flinch. She was methodical in her approach, experimenting with different devices, different levels, always watching, always studying.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured one night, trailing a thin wire down his stomach, resting it just above his navel. “The way your body reacts. The way you can’t control it.”
It was then that Ethan understood—this wasn’t about pleasure for her. It wasn’t about pain, either.
It was about power.
She was intoxicated by it, by the way she could make him tremble, make him gasp, make him submit with nothing but a flick of her fingers. And when he started to resist, when he tried to set boundaries, Lila only smiled.
Boundaries, after all, were meant to be broken.
One night, she restrained his arms and legs, something she had done before. She attached wires to his scrotum, as she had done before, but this time, when she turned the electricity on, she didn’t stop when he cried out.
The shock was stronger than before, a live wire searing through his nerves. His muscles seized, his breath caught in his throat. His body lurched violently, but the ties held him in place.
“Lila—” he choked out, but she only tilted her head, watching him.
“You can take it,” she whispered, running her fingers through his damp hair.
Then she laid back in the bed, her legs spread wide beside him, her free hand disappearing between her thighs.
Ethan stared, chest heaving, realization sinking in like ice in his veins.
She wasn’t just watching him.
She was listening to him.
Every gasp, every broken whimper, every helpless jolt of his body—each one made her shudder, made her bite her lip, made her breath quicken.
She closed her eyes as she pressed the device against him again, increasing the intensity. The shock ripped through him, stealing his breath, making his muscles convulse violently against the restraints.
Lila moaned.
His pain aroused her.
His suffering was her pleasure.
She kept going, kept teasing him with surges of current, gasping at every involuntary reaction, every strangled cry.
She lost herself in it, rocking against her own hand, her body shivering with pleasure as she made him burn.
He had never felt more helpless.
And yet, even as he lay there, tied down, sweat dripping from his temples, his body aching from the aftermath of each pulse—there was something more terrifying than the pain itself.
She was going to do this again.
She was going to do it forever.
Because Lila had found her perfect toy.
And Ethan had no idea how to break free.