Masturbation

I won the hand and, for the first time, had both of them at my mercy. My husband and our guest, waiting for my order. And I already knew what I was going to ask them to do.

Bruno introduced me to his friends with a conspiratorial smile, and before I understood what was happening, I knew I wouldn’t leave the cabin the same woman.

We paid to become the alphas who humiliated us. But Madame Muñeca always keeps her promises... never in the way you expect.

I was twenty and thought I understood my desires—until my mother-in-law opened that album and showed me who she had been. That night I turned off the light and understood everything.

I’d spent the whole morning imagining being caught. I didn’t expect it to be the professor I’d been thinking forbidden things about for months.

I lowered the phone screen thinking we’d only chat, but what I saw in her bed that night changed everything I thought I wanted.

No one had ever taught me to desire myself. That morning, with the house empty and the light coming in through the window, I taught myself.

She got up angry because he was watching soccer and didn’t even notice her. She had no idea that bumping the table would ignite the whole afternoon.

The suitcases still unpacked and, under one of the beds, a stack of old magazines that none of the three siblings could stop staring at that hot afternoon.

At the New Year’s dawn, Camila asked for a kiss. What looked like a drunken game ended with a vibrator and a confession kept for twenty years.

For months he’d pretended her uniform didn’t affect him. That afternoon, with her thigh bandaged and his hands trembling on her skin, he knew he couldn’t hold back anymore.

We’ve been together for years, and there’s still something I don’t dare ask her for. Every time she kneels in front of me, the fantasy returns and I struggle to stay silent.

I sent a photo of my open pussy from the café bathroom. What happened next, in front of that picture window, still makes my legs shake.

I wore my new trainers on a Saturday morning, never imagining I’d come home with my leggings wet for reasons that had nothing to do with running.

I always thought it was something for easy girls. Then I knelt in front of him, looked into the antique mirror, and realized I’d been wrong for years.

She was cleaning the terrace in a thong and little else, not knowing two men were spying on her from across the building. And me, seeing her desired, drove me insane.

I’d entered her tower to settle an old debt. What I hadn’t expected was to stand frozen behind the curtain, holding my breath, unable to look away.

I went into the third fitting room, left the curtain exactly how I like it, and when I looked up I caught her looking inside. One of mine, I thought.

Every morning I put on my shackles before I head out to the fields. No one forces me: I do it because the weight of the chain on my ankles is the only thing that makes me feel alive.

There were two hours left before the video call and my body was already trembling. I wasn’t going to touch myself once; it was enough that he wrote what I had to do to myself.