The night was hot and sticky in the old part of the city. Narrow streets smelled of garbage and cheap perfume. At the end of one dark alley stood a black door with no sign. Behind it was the Velvet Thorn – a secret club where normal rules did not exist.

She walked inside alone. Twenty-five years old. Long black hair falling down her back. Big dark eyes that looked both scared and hungry. She wore a short tight black dress that stuck to her body. The thin straps of her black lace bra showed on her shoulders. Under the dress she had matching black panties – already a little wet from thinking about what might happen tonight.