The waitress returned, setting my water and Miko's cherry juice on the human table. I grabbed the glass, sipping awkwardly while standing, the cold liquid doing nothing to calm me. Miko drank hers like she was at a fucking brunch, unfazed, her aura radiating confidence.
"I have to talk to her," I muttered to myself, eyeing Sarah across the room, reapplying her lipstick on a guy's back. "But how…"
"From what I understand, Evan," Miko said, scanning the room, "men here are treated as slaves. Look at that woman go."
I followed her gaze—a woman bouncing on a guy's dick, him on the floor, barking under a dog collar, her hand slapping his face, leaving red fingerprints on his cheeks. My stomach twisted. What the fuck was this place?
"Come on," Miko said, her smirk unwavering. "I'll do the talking."
"Wait, what?" I started, but a pink dog collar, pulsing with faint energy, materialized around my neck, the weight light but electric. I froze, my hand brushing it. "What the hell?"
