• Mirjam • I've had a good life. A nice family home. Parents who only wanted the best for me. A nice and almost perfect fiancé. I followed my passion and never looked back. Until I went to far. I got abducted and tortured in Afghanistan. Held by terrorists for months. I just wanted to help people, follow my passion as an army nurse. But I paid the price. I'm home but the old Mirjam died in Afghanistan. Died in that dark room. I left everything behind and went to find my new self. I was never one to give up. So why start now? • Saw • As the President of my club, I have to be in control of everything. My club, my life, the woman I fuck. People respect me, like they should. People do what I say, because they know what I will do if they don't. Woman flick around me, there is never a short supply. Life is good. Until the spitfire that moved into my sisters old apartment starts haunting my mind. *This story contains violence, mature language, sexual content and dark themes* **I don't own any of the pictures used in this story; all right go to their rightful owners**