The room still smelled of ozone and sweat when Victor reversed the crank. The leather cuffs lowered, and Leena’s inverted body settled onto the polished floor with a soft, graceless thud. Blood rushed back through her arms and legs, pins and needles exploding in her fingers and bare feet. She lay there panting, the violet wand’s ghost still crackling deep behind her clit.

Jagan crouched beside her, unclipping the ankle cuffs with slow, deliberate fingers. “Up,” he said. “You have one more role tonight.”