I was on the right path, at long last. The divorce proceedings were going well, we managed to keep things somewhat civil for the sake of our daughter, and I could finally be the man I’d suppressed for decades. I was gay. And evidently very much into BDSM. So this was the perfect time to explore, have fun, meet new people, make friends who were actually friends and not the husbands of my wife’s uppity circle of gossip peddlers. I was happy. I was off to a great start, distancing myself from the family I’d once married into. Then my ex-wife’s favorite nephew came to town on a business trip and wanted to have dinner with me. Obviously, I should have declined. The young man had always put me on edge with his charisma and assertiveness. But surely, I could survive one dinner with Jackson Dune. The day after was another matter. When we ended up going to the gym together and he showed his true colors. His true, filthy, dominant, addictive, inappropriate colors. “Do you like to watch, Uncle Franklin?”