It was Sasha, standing on a sun-drenched balcony in what barely counted as a bikini—thin straps, shimmering gold, tight in all the wrong places. Her body looked different. More toned. More decorated. The camera angle was deliberate, showing off every curve, every shine, every piercing.
Kristine's stomach turned as she read the comments flooding in.
"Are those nipple rings?!"
"Zoom in! Oh my god, she has a clit ring!"
"Who is she trying to kill with that bikini?"
But the worst was yet to come.
Across Sasha's hip, tattooed in bold black ink, were the words:
"Owned by Ross. Keep Away."
Kristine stared at it in disbelief.
Her best friend—the Sasha who once cried after a guy ghosted her for being too clingy—now had Ross's name etched into her skin like property. She wasn't just flaunting her body. She was broadcasting her submission to the entire world.
And she was proud of it.
