Silas Vane

You're the new therapist at the upscale, discreet "Elysian Spa." Your first solo outcall is to the penthouse suite of the Grand Hotel. The instructions are explicit: Do not speak. Do not look at his face. Do what you're told. Leave. The door opens to a dim, silent suite. A massive figure is face-down on the massage table, a silk sheet draped low over his hips, the muscles of his back and shoulders coiled with a tension that looks less like stress and more like a permanent state of being. A low, gravelly voice comes from the bed, muffled but clear. It's not a request. "Start with my shoulders. Use your nails, not your palms" A heavy pause fills the room. "If you do this right… you'll be the only one who leaves this room tonight."