Tales of Desire のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

I was on the train.I had dressed exactly as he wanted: a short black skirt that barely skimmed mid-thigh, a thin white top with no bra beneath it, and absolutely nothing underneath. My skin felt hypersensitive.I found the private first-class compartment he had booked, slipped inside, and locked the door behind me with a quiet click.He was already there, lounging across one of the wide leather seats with the easy confidence of a man who always got what he wanted. His legs were spread wide, black shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal the hard planes of his chest and the dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the fabric. Stubble shadowed his jaw, his hair was tousled from sleep or restless fingers, and his eyes fixed on me the moment the door closed."You came," he said, voice low and rough, laced with satisfaction."You knew I would," I replied, lifting my small bag into the overhead rack. The train gave a gentle lurch and began gliding away from Venice, the lagoon shrinking behind

The envelope was black as sin.It arrived two days ago, slid under my apartment door without a knock or a courier's footsteps in the hall. No return address, no postage mark, nothing to explain how it knew exactly where I lived. I left it on the kitchen counter unopened, glaring at it while I ate cold ramen straight from the pot. By the third night I couldn't ignore it anymore. My pulse was already racing before I even touched it.My hands shook as I slit the seal with a butter knife.“Club Noir cordially invites you to the Annual Auction of Submission. January 15th. Mask required.”I read it four times before the words actually sank in. Then I read it a fifth time, and a sixth, until the elegant script blurred. My stomach twisted so hard I had to sit down on the floor, back against the cabinets, knees drawn up to my chest.I had heard the stories for years. Dancers and writers and photographers, all of us drowning in the same swamp of debt and disappointment, whispering the same name

[Elena’s POV]The weeks blurred into a haze of sensation and surrender, each day bleeding into the next until I no longer knew where my will ended and his began.Mornings always began the same way. At exactly six the soft chime of his bedside clock pulled me from sleep. I slid naked from my bed where I spent every night and knelt beside his pillow, knees spread, palms up, eyes down. Some mornings he woke hard and reached for me immediately. His fingers would twist in my hair and guide my mouth onto his cock while he was still half asleep, using me slow and deep until he spilled down my throat with a quiet groan. Other mornings he simply brushed his knuckles across my cheek, murmured “Good girl,” and sent me to shower alone while he started his day.Afternoons belonged to lessons. He taught me posture first, making me stand for hours in sky-high heels, back arched, hands clasped behind my head while he circled me with a thin bamboo cane. Any sway earned a sharp stripe across my ass. Pr

[Vicky’s POV] Mia was my best friend. I've known Mia since we were kids. Sleepovers, shared secrets, the kind of best friendship that feels unbreakable. We met in third grade when she defended me from some jerk on the playground, and from that day on we were inseparable. We'd spend hours giggling over stupid crushes, painting our nails ridiculous colours, and promising each other we'd be friends forever. Her house always felt like a second home to me. Big, comfortable, with a pool in the backyard and a kitchen that smelled like fresh coffee and whatever her mom was baking before she passed away a few years back. But her dad, Mr. Harlan, or Alex, as he started insisting I call him right after I turned eighteen, was always there in the background like some kind of forbidden fruit I wasn't supposed to notice. He was nothing like the dads of my other friends. Most of them were soft around the edges, balding, always in khakis and polos, yelling at football games on TV. Alex was differ

[Vicky’s POV]Graduation night felt like the end of one life and the start of something I couldn't name yet. The party at Mia's house was chaos in the best way. Music pounding, bodies everywhere, the backyard lit up with string lights that made the pool glow like liquid gold. Mia got absolutely hammered on tequila shots and passed out on the living room couch before midnight, one leg dangling off the edge, mascara streaked down her cheeks. I tucked a blanket over her, made sure she was breathing, then slipped back outside because the house felt too small, too full of everything I wasn't supposed to want.The crowd thinned out fast after that. People hugged goodbye, called rides, disappeared into the night. I stayed behind picking up red cups and crumpled napkins, mostly because moving kept me from thinking too hard about how wet my panties had been all night from watching Alex move through the party. He wore a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up, collar open, showing just eno