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Chapter 2: Awaiting Punishment
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Chapter 4: The Smell of Opportunity
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... nt needed teeth. Not pain. Not isolation. Realignment.
I sat up slowly, spine arching like a wary cat, my skin still tacky with sweat and shame from earlier "encounters." Dried streaks of someone else’s sin clung to my belly, my thighs, my cheeks. I reeked of sex, power, and rebellion. And the beastman?
He noticed.
He began sniffing the air. Loudly. A growl formed low in his chest, almost thoughtful, like a sommelier trying to place notes in a vintage of filth. His head t ...
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