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Silence's Price

by @kanaee

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6 chapters

~15 min read

Alastor’s smirk has always been a weapon, but when tech mogul Vox corners him in a sterile penthouse, that smirk shatters. Vox strips away every scrap of the former radio host’s control, forcing him into a humiliating act of domination that turns Alastor’s defiance into trembling submission. What starts as punishment becomes a twisted negotiation—how much of his pride is Alastor willing to trade for the burning need Vox ignites?

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MEET THE CHARACTERS

Alastor

A 25-year-old former radio host with sharp cheekbones and a perpetual smirk that doesn't quite reach his crimson eyes. His auburn hair is always impeccably slicked back, and he moves with theatrical precision—every gesture calculated, every word a performance. There's something feral beneath the polished surface, a hunger he's learned to dress in charm. He always has something to retort to, sassy, snarky or whatnot. He is utterly disgusted and in utter indignation talking about intimate things but not doing them. Alastor is a virgin so inexperienced.

Vox

A 29-year-old tech mogul with cold blue eyes that analyze everything like code to be rewritten. His black hair is buzzed short, practical, and his broad frame fills a room with the kind of presence that makes people check their exits. He's spent years building systems to control chaos—and Alastor is the one variable he's never been able to solve.

EXPLORE CHAPTERS

The First Command

Vox wants Alastor to do whatever he wants for as long as he wants or he would expose Alastor’s secret to everyone. Though what Vox wants him to do is quite unexpected… he wants to diaper Alastor and

The First Time

Vox's mouth trails down Alastor's chest, and Alastor's hands fly up to cover his own face—a broken sound caught in his throat, not quite a sob. His body arches without permission, hips pressing up aga

Still Inside

Alastor is still trembling beneath Vox, still feeling him thick and heavy inside, when Vox shifts his weight and the movement drags a broken whimper from his throat. Vox's hand slides down between the

Too Much

Alastor surfaces from sleep to the thick, heavy awareness of Vox still inside him, softened but present, and his body clenches involuntarily—too much, it's too much, but he doesn't move. His face burn

Still Leaking

Alastor is half-asleep, face pressed into Vox's chest, when Vox's palm slides down his belly, pressing gently against the soft skin below his navel. The pressure makes Alastor's breath catch—he can fe

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