Chapter X: The Gooning Cave
*This is a parallel universe, where Evan, still gets ruined, but a more sadistic Anna*
The air inside the room was thick, stale with hours--days--of isolation. The glow of multiple screens cast a sickly light on Evan's slumped form, his body weak, trembling, his mind fogged with exhaustion and overstimulation. The chair beneath him felt like a prison, the looping filth on the screens his only reality. And yet, even as his body ached, his cock remained soft, useless, locked in the unbearable limbo she had placed him in.
Then came the sound.
Click. Click. Click.
The sharp, deliberate impact of her heels on the hardwood floor, echoing down the hall before the door swung open.
Anna stepped inside, her presence suffocating the small, dimly lit space. She stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of him--her ruined, obedient thing. The heavy platform stripper heels she wore made her already imposing figure even more overwhelming, her dark eyes scanning the wreckage of what had once been a man.
"Look at you, Evan... exactly where you belong."
Her voice was smooth, almost disappointed, yet dripping with a satisfaction that made his stomach twist.
"Stand up. Now."
Evan's muscles protested as he pushed himself up, legs unsteady from the hours spent in the chair, from the agonizing self-denial she had conditioned him into. His vision blurred for a moment, but he didn't dare falter. Anna took her place in the chair he had just vacated, settling into it like a queen reclaiming her throne.
She crossed one leg over the other, the towering black platforms of her heels gleaming in the dim light. Her smirk deepened as she looked up at him, her gaze traveling over his exposed, vulnerable form.
"Pathetic. Just look at yourself. How long have you been sitting here, jerking your useless little cock to the garbage I allow you to watch? Do you even remember what it felt like to have control? No. Of course not. Because you never had control, did you?"
Evan swallowed hard, his throat dry, his head light from deprivation. He knew better than to speak. His silence was the only answer she needed.
Anna reached into her blouse, the silk fabric shifting against her curves as she retrieved the small baggie that made his veins burn with longing. His breath hitched, pupils dilating as she took her time, tapping the fine white powder along the curve of her glossy heel. The moment stretched, endless, cruel, until she finally spoke again.
"You want this? You need this, don't you?"
