I sank instantly into a dream wherein a handsome, raven-haired man beckoned me into a dark room. He opened a locked cabinet, eerily similar to the one we’d found in the abandoned train station, revealing an astonishing array of bondage equipment. Except, instead of leather and chains, every piece was made of … cheese. “Fifty shades of gruyere,” I whispered in awe. The man fondled a mozzarella-based whip. “I have some very specific feta-shes.”
