The days after Aiden mentioned the leaked photos passed in a strange, tense haze. I tried to focus on my photography, but every time I sat down with my laptop, the weight of the collar around my neck and the plug inside me pulled my attention away. Aiden had been true to his word, he was slowly giving me small pockets of “freedom,” but they always came with conditions. This morning, he gave me four uninterrupted hours to work. I sat in the small studio space he had set up for me, wearing nothing but the collar and cage, the thick plug shifting every time I moved. My camera was connected to the laptop, and I had a backlog of unedited photos from jobs I’d taken before the gala. But my hands wouldn’t cooperate. Every few minutes, I caught myself rocking subtly on the plug, chasing the fullness I’d grown addicted to. My mind kept drifting to Aiden, the way he looked at me when he was buried deep inside me, the low growl of his voice when he called me his breeding boy. Focus, Kai. Th
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