Dream

Mr. Roarke joined Teyla by the pool as her first client, a young, slightly shy redheaded woman who had clearly paid a fortune to fulfill several island fantasies.

• Hello, Ms. Cole, I'm pleased to meet you.

Taboo imitated her.

• Hello, Mr. Roarke and Taboo, I'm pleased to meet you.
• You requested the fulfillment of an interesting fantasy. You want to be a reality TV star based on a reality game show, where viewers could interact with you and your tormentors. If you succeed, you would become a permanent **** on the island, followed in a regular show, and if you fail, you would be auctioned off. You are aware of what this entails. You will not be able to turn back. Either you succeed or you fail.
• Yes.

Mr. Roarke looked stern. Taboo handed him a microphone as a camera entered this idyllic setting.

• Dear viewers, here is Teyla, the first candidate for our BDSM reality show. She will have to pass 12 tests that our island will set up starting today. We are counting on your involvement to provide 5 of the 12 tests.

Turning around, he ordered Teyla:

• Undress, ****. Taboo will put her submissive collar on her and take her to her first test on all fours.

Teyla undressed and got on her knees so that Taboo could put her collar on her, which also put a hood over her that obstructed her vision and prevented her from hearing. Only a trickle of air passed through her nostrils. Her mouth also held a ball that completely closed the hood.

He added the leash to the collar ring. Taboo yanked the leash sharply, forcing Teyla to crawl on all fours on the hot terrace floor. Her bare knees brushed against the smooth flagstones, while her trembling hands searched uncertainly for support. The leather of the hood clung to her damp skin, and the ball of the gag pressed against her tongue, reducing her moans to low, muffled whispers.