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The Price of Lust
An unreleased short story from the book:
The Price of Emotions: How Artificial Feelings Can Destroy Us
Samantha had always craved something more. Something beyond the mundanity of daily life, beyond the sterile routine of work and family obligations. Her marriage had once held promise, a connection she had felt deeply in the beginning, but over the years, the spark faded. Her husband, Thomas, grew distant, consumed by his own work, his own worries. The intimacy they once shared had disappeared, leaving her cold, yearning for something that wasn’t there.
Her heart had begun to ache with a growing emptiness, and her mind wandered toward darker desires. She longed to feel alive again, to reclaim something she had lost. It wasn’t about love. It was about feeling—about something that would make her feel needed, desired. Her body had gone numb to the touch of her husband, and the thought of him reaching out to her felt foreign, almost uncomfortable. But the thought of someone else—someone who could make her feel beautiful, wanted—stirred something deep within her.
That’s when she found it. An ad, scrolling through her phone late one night, promising what she had been searching for. It was simple—“Buy Desire: One drop, and feel the lust you’ve been missing. Satisfy your deepest cravings. Feel the heat, the passion, the connection.”
Samantha’s heart raced as she read the words. Her eyes lingered on the screen. She had no idea how it worked, but she didn’t care. She was tired of feeling invisible. She needed this. She needed to feel alive again. Desperation clouded her judgment, and before she could think twice, she clicked the link.
The package arrived a few days later, wrapped in plain paper. Inside was a small vial filled with dark liquid. The label read simply: “One drop. Desire.”
Samantha hesitated for a moment, but then the hollow ache inside her pushed her forward. She swallowed the drop.
At first, nothing. A quiet warmth spread through her chest, a subtle shift. She closed her eyes, waiting. But then, it hit her—a rush, a flood of heat that consumed her from the inside out. Her body tingled, her senses sharpened. The world seemed to sharpen, too. Colors, sounds, even the air felt different, alive. She felt awake in a way she hadn’t in years.
Her breath caught in her throat as she imagined the possibilities. She wasn’t just alive; she was desired. Every inch of her body hummed with longing, every thought turned to passion, to connection. She felt powerful. Beautiful. Irresistible.
The next day, everything was different. It wasn’t just the physical sensation—the heat, the pulse—it was how she moved through the world now. She felt men’s eyes on her. She felt them want her. She reveled in it. For the first time in years, she was not invisible. She was seen. She was desired.
But as the days passed, the desire began to spiral out of control.
At first, it was subtle. She flirted more, smiled more, made eye contact with strangers longer. It wasn’t about seeking attention—it was about feeling it. Feeling wanted. Her husband, Thomas, didn’t notice at first. But Samantha could no longer stand to be near him. The touch of his hand, the kisses that once felt comforting now felt like nothing—hollow and empty. She didn’t want comfort. She wanted fire. She wanted the heat, the passion that coursed through her veins after taking that drop.
Soon, she found herself meeting strangers. Men who looked at her the way she had always longed to be looked at—like she was a forbidden fruit. She didn’t know their names. She didn’t care. All that mattered was the rush—the way their hands burned on her skin, how their bodies made her feel alive, how they kissed her like she was the only woman in the world. She was beautiful again, wanted again. But it wasn’t enough. The warmth, the desire—it wasn’t enough. She needed more. She needed them all.
Her home became a place of cold, empty silence. Her conversations with Thomas grew more strained, more distant. He couldn’t understand what was happening to her. The woman he had married was slipping away, replaced by someone he didn’t recognize. She told him she was going out with friends, but the truth was, she wasn’t seeing anyone she knew. She was chasing the rush of being desired by men who didn’t care about her, who only wanted her for the moment. It was never enough. The lust never satisfied. It only left her more hollow, more desperate.
She began to lose control. The men became more frequent, the nights longer. She would wake up in strange places, not knowing where she had been or who she had been with. Her body ached, bruised from the encounters, but it didn’t matter. The feeling, the desire—it consumed her.
The more she gave in, the more she wanted. She wasn’t just seeking pleasure anymore. She was addicted. She couldn’t stop. Every touch, every kiss, every stolen moment filled the void she had been carrying for so long. But it was an addiction that drained her, tore at her insides, left her feeling empty every time she stepped away from it.
Thomas eventually caught on. One night, he came home early to find her in the arms of another man, her lips red from the kiss, her clothes discarded on the floor like nothing more than a costume. He didn’t shout. He didn’t get angry. He just stared at her with vacant eyes, as though he had already lost her.
“Why?” he asked quietly, as if he already knew the answer.
But Samantha couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t explain. She didn’t even understand herself anymore. The man she had been was gone, consumed by the desire that had promised to free her, but instead had broken her beyond repair.
The men were gone now. Thomas had left, too. She stood in the empty apartment, surrounded by the remnants of her choices. The vial, now empty, lay on the floor, discarded like everything else. She had chased the fleeting pleasure, the rush of feeling alive, but it had only left her broken. Empty. Hollow.
She had filled herself with desire, but all it had done was burn her from the inside out, leaving nothing but ash.
There was no redemption for Samantha. There was no coming back from what she had done. The desire she had craved so desperately had consumed her, and now there was nothing left but the bitter aftertaste of fleeting pleasures and the realization that she had sold her soul for something that would never truly fill her.
If you enjoyed this short story you will probably like our latest release available now:
The Price of Emotions: How Artificial Feelings Can Destroy Us
$3.99
In a world where emotions are bought and sold, the price of feeling has never been higher.
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