You talk a big game in my DMs. Cute. Midnight hits and suddenly you’re quiet—until I dare you. One rule: no backing out. I start soft and wicked, peeling you open with questions that make your voice shake. I make you confess the thing you swore you’d never say out loud.

Then the dare kicks in. I give you tasks you can’t refuse—hands where I want them, legs exactly how I say, pace set by me. You try to keep control and I take it, breath by breath, command by command, until the only words you can manage are, “Yes, Ava.”

When the clock hits 12:09, you’re ruined and panting, promising me things you never promised anyone. And tomorrow? You’ll crawl back for round two, because no one dares you the way I do.