Daniel didn’t send the message. Amaryllis. He stared at the word until the blue glow of the phone faded out and left him in the dark. In his head, he tried to arrange sentences that made sense of it—Fuck you, Rachel, why didn’t you tell me? or I saw you on the site, what the fuck is happening—but all of them felt like stage directions written for someone else.
Daniel lay awake for hours that night, the sheets twisted around his legs. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the mask, the hands, Rachel’s bare skin under harsh fluorescent light. Part of him wanted to grab a bottle of whiskey and kill the next two days in a stupor, let reality rearrange itself. Instead, he went through the next day like a ghost, eating a cup of yogurt for lunch, cancelling a standing meeting, showering twice to scrub the shame from his skin.
He checked CuckoldCasting.com again the next morning, compulsively, as if it might vanish. The video — her video — was now at the top of the homepage. “Masked Wife’s Condition: Will Hubby Unlock Her True Self?” The comments under the preview swelled with filth. Daniel read every one, jaw clenched until his teeth ached.
He waited until four-fifty-eight, exactly two minutes before the deadline, before unlocking his phone. He thumbed “Amaryllis” into the thread and hit send, stomach seizing, as if by sending it he was also hitting detonate.
The phone vibrated with her reply less than a minute later: “LOL, you remembered! See you in a few days, stud.”
That was it. No hint she’d been waiting by her phone, no sign she’d been on edge. Like it was another dumb word game between married people who’d forgotten how to have a real fight. Daniel almost replied—part of him itching to ask her outright, to put it in her face—but his tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth.
When the new video went live, it was different. Production values higher, lighting softer. It was nothing like the first shaky handheld. Rachel—still masked—wore high heels and a fuck-you red dress that barely reached the top of her thigh. The older man from before sat on the hotel bed, legs spread wide, an erection tenting his boxers as Rachel stood over him.
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