"Take... take it easy. Don't you care that I'm someone else's wife?" I whimpered.

Lying face down on the massage table, my body completely limp, I let out a sound close to crying as I pleaded with the man behind me.

His burning hands kneaded my back even harder. "Sweetheart," he said with a smirk in his voice, "go ahead and make some noise. Every woman does."

………………………………………………

My name is Riley, and I'm a newlywed.

That day, my sister Rachel came to me in tears, claiming she was assaulted by a male therapist at a massage parlor during an oil massage.

She reported it to the police immediately.

But the massage therapist claimed Rachel initiated it, showing a video where Rachel was on top, riding him wildly in a cowgirl position, clearly begging for more.

Rachel had no evidence to support her case, and the therapist walked free.

After hearing Rachel's story, I didn't hesitate to take matters into my own hands.

My plan was simple - if we couldn't find evidence, we'd create some.

What man could resist a gorgeous married woman when there'd be no consequences?

These shady massage parlors were known for their questionable practices. Given another opportunity, he'd likely try again. All I needed was to catch him in the act, and he'd face justice.

The source of the evidence didn't matter.

After Rachel left, I went to the massage parlor and purchased a package, specifically requesting a male therapist.

"Ma'am, here's our service menu," the receptionist said matter-of-factly, leading me to a room and handing me an iPad. "You'll find photos and specialties of all our therapists here."

I'd never seen this menu-style service before. It felt strange, like ordering from a catalog. I scrolled through the photos. Finally, I found him - a muscular man in just his underwear. The same one who had turned my Rachel into his personal plaything in that video.

"This one," I said decisively.

I randomly selected hair removal, full-body brightening, and oil massage treatments, then returned the iPad.

"Please relax for a moment. Your therapist will be right in."

Once she left, I placed my phone on the table in camera mode, undressed, and lay face down on the massage table under a towel.

Making myself this available - he'd definitely fall for it.

Soon, I heard the door click open.

I looked up. My target had arrived.

What surprised me was his imposing presence - he must have been at least 6'4", clearly a gym regular with powerful built. His thick, muscular thighs and obvious bulge left little to imagination. Everything about him screamed “experienced in bed.”

"Sweetheart, what would you like?" he purred.

Involuntarily, my hips swayed at his words, as images of Rachel being handled like his plaything flashed through my mind.