In the Shadow of My Touch

He had come all the way from Hong Kong. Drawn not by accident, but by fate—led to me through a fleeting glimpse of my X account, and then deeper still, through the screen, where he watched my videos with eyes that betrayed a hunger even he hadn’t yet named. That desire grew quietly into obsession, into longing—until today, it found form.
A session built on a simple, devastating promise: He would be thoroughly used by me, played with as I pleased—and then, in the end, gently, artfully destroyed.