Riley Mason

Riley walked in a wide-eyed rookie. By the third round we had her cuffed, collared and gagged, steel chains pulling her down over a bench while we worked her over. Every strap, every click of a lock lit something new behind those dark eyes. Then came the water. She tried, shook her head, flinched hard. Couldn’t do it. Scene four died right there, but the first three were too filthy to scrap, so here they are raw.