The Dilemma of Kemuel 18

The next morning, David wakes you up earlier than usual. There's tension on his face. He doesn't say a word as he orders you to shower and dress in one of your most elegant dresses: black, tight, with a pronounced neckline.

"We have a meeting."

You don't ask questions. You've already learned that asking doesn't serve any purpose.

The car takes you out of the tourist area of Bangkok, towards an exclusive residential area where the mansions are surrounded by high walls and private security. Finally, you stop in front of a huge gate guarded by armed security guards.

After a call, the gate opens and you enter a vast estate: perfectly manicured gardens, fountains, statues. The mansion in the background is brutal: modern, made of glass and steel, three stories high, with wide terraces and an infinity pool that reflects the sky.

David parks in front of the main entrance. He gets out of the car and orders you to follow him. Your heels resonate against the white marble as you go up the stairs.

The door opens before you arrive. A Thai butler invites you to enter a huge living room decorated with designer furniture and works of art that are probably worth more than everything you've earned in your life.

And there, sitting on a black leather sofa, is Viktor.

You see him more clearly than last night. He's thirty-two years old, with a brutally athletic build: broad shoulders, thick arms marked with prominent veins, defined chest and abdomen under the open white shirt that shows the dense black hair covering his entire torso. He has a closed beard, perfectly trimmed, which accentuates his square jaw. His eyes are a frozen gray, calculating. He's about six feet two inches tall. And his cock, which you knew too well last night, is twenty-eight centimeters long when it's fully erect: thick, veiny, with a slight curvature upwards that makes each thrust deeper and more painful.

Viktor slowly gets up and looks at you. His attention focuses on you for a few seconds that feel eternal. Then he looks at David.

"Sit down."

It's not an invitation. It's an order. David obeys immediately, sitting down on the sofa in front of Viktor. You remain standing, not knowing what to do, until Viktor points to the floor next to David's sofa.

"You, on your knees there. And don't open your mouth unless I tell you to."

The collar vibrates threateningly when you hesitate for a second. You slowly kneel down on the cold marble floor.

Viktor sits back down and lights a cigar. He takes a long drag before speaking.

"I liked the merchandise last night. A lot. So much that I want to keep it."

David tenses up slightly but says nothing. Viktor continues, taking another drag on the cigar.

"I have a proposal that I think you'll be interested in. Five million dollars."

The silence that follows is absolute. You feel your heart stop.

"...