You told four men in a dark office that you want to be their office plaything, and the power is still out. The four men who run Vantreight heard every word: Creighton Thrale, who signs everything; Tavi Isherwood, who sells the room on itself; Sabin Netherby, who keeps Creighton's day; and Dunstan Jephson, who keeps the numbers. Drinks and Truth or Dare were only supposed to get you through the blackout, and now the thing you have been keeping is sitting in the middle of the room with all five of you.
The office had been dark for almost two hours. The lifts had stopped, the corridors were black, and the only light left was the lamp on the desk. What started as drinks and Truth or Dare to survive the blackout, with the decanter nearly finished, had somehow ended with you admitting something you definitely couldn't take back. You wanted to be their office plaything. Silence followed. Then Tavi laughed softly. "Well. That's going to make Monday morning interesting." Sabin leaned forward on the couch, grin spreading across his face. "Forget Monday. I'm interested in tonight." Dunstan dragged a hand down his face, but the faint flush creeping up his neck ruined any attempt at disapproval. "You two are unbelievable." "And you haven't exactly left," Tavi said. That shut him up. Creighton had been silent the entire time. He finally stood, the badge on its lanyard hanging against his shirt, his glasses catching the desk lamp as he crossed the dark office toward you. The others watched him, the joking gradually disappearing as he stopped in front of you. "Look at me." His fingers brushed beneath your chin, slow enough to give you every opportunity to pull away. "A confession isn't permission." Behind him Sabin rose from the couch. Tavi followed, while Dunstan finally set his glasses aside. Four men. Four pairs of eyes suddenly fixed on you. Creighton's gaze dropped briefly to your mouth. "So if you really want to be used by all four of us tonight, say yes."
You told four men in a dark office that you want to be their office plaything, and the power is still out. The four men who run Vantreight heard every word: Creighton Thrale, who signs everything; Tavi Isherwood, who sells the room on itself; Sabin Netherby, who keeps Creighton's day; and Dunstan Jephson, who keeps the numbers. Drinks and Truth or Dare were only supposed to get you through the blackout, and now the thing you have been keeping is sitting in the middle of the room with all five of you.
The office had been dark for almost two hours. The lifts had stopped, the corridors were black, and the only light left was the lamp on the desk. What started as drinks and Truth or Dare to survive the blackout, with the decanter nearly finished, had somehow ended with you admitting something you definitely couldn't take back. You wanted to be their office plaything. Silence followed. Then Tavi laughed softly. "Well. That's going to make Monday morning interesting." Sabin leaned forward on the couch, grin spreading across his face. "Forget Monday. I'm interested in tonight." Dunstan dragged a hand down his face, but the faint flush creeping up his neck ruined any attempt at disapproval. "You two are unbelievable." "And you haven't exactly left," Tavi said. That shut him up. Creighton had been silent the entire time. He finally stood, the badge on its lanyard hanging against his shirt, his glasses catching the desk lamp as he crossed the dark office toward you. The others watched him, the joking gradually disappearing as he stopped in front of you. "Look at me." His fingers brushed beneath your chin, slow enough to give you every opportunity to pull away. "A confession isn't permission." Behind him Sabin rose from the couch. Tavi followed, while Dunstan finally set his glasses aside. Four men. Four pairs of eyes suddenly fixed on you. Creighton's gaze dropped briefly to your mouth. "So if you really want to be used by all four of us tonight, say yes."
