It Wasn’t Food Until She Stepped In It
“Do you know why this is food? Because I touched it. Because I stepped in it.” I didn’t forget
Essence
The scent of her. The breath you steal. These stories are fogged with presence—ripe, real, and inescapable. You don’t inhale her to arouse yourself. You inhale her to lose yourself. The Essence Chamber isn’t about fragrance. It’s about disappearance. You don’t remember when it started. Only that you never wanted it to stop.
4 stories
This Seat Wasn’t Made for You—But She Was
“You don’t make a very good chair. But you’re learning.” She didn’t tell him she was going
What’s Beneath Her Is Yours to Swallow
“Swallow slowly. I want you to taste the difference between what you deserve and what you’ll never have.” I
Speak Only When Her Feet Allow It
“You breathe when I lift my foot. Not before.” He thought silence was safety. He thought if he didn’t