The private villa perched on the cliffs of the Dalmatian coast, the Adriatic Sea stretching below like a carpet of sapphire. The sun was warm, the air thick with the scent of salt and pine, but Amber felt a chill of anticipation as Kabir led her down the stone stairs to the basement. The door was heavy, reinforced with iron, and the air grew cooler as they descended into the earth.
The dungeon was a masterpiece of dark design. Stone walls lined with iron rings and chains. A wooden spanking bench in the center. Racks of floggers and paddles and crops. Candles flickered in iron sconces, casting dancing shadows across the walls. The scent of leather and wax and ancient stone filled the air.
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