Obey: 3. The Third Test

The envelope lay on her nightstand like a dare.

Clara had stared at it for hours after returning home, every muscle in her body humming from restraint. She had followed his command: she hadn’t touched herself. Not once. Not when she stripped off her dress, not when she slid under the sheets, her skin still smelling faintly of his cologne. She had lain there in the dark, aching, restless, feeling her pulse between her thighs.

By morning, she felt raw, electric. She reached for the envelope before she even reached for her phone.

 Wear the red dress.

No bra. No panties.

Meet me at the Grand Atrium Hotel bar at 8:00 p.m.

Order a martini. Wait for my instruction.

Her mouth went dry. The red dress was even bolder than the black one—a sleek, curve-hugging thing she’d bought online one lonely night and never dared to wear. No bra, no panties. In public.

Her body pulsed with heat at the thought.

All day at work she felt like a marion