Confirming the meeting place with the client, I walk down the concrete stairs to the basement, my footsteps echoing. I place my hand on the amber-colored door, which creaks open as I step inside.

On the table lies something like a menu, listing the various requests accepted by this shop, categorized page by page.

Fees vary by request: standard jobs fall within an average price range, while peculiar or unspeakable kinks are priced higher. For dark, illicit requests, the fees are exorbitant, with a long string of zeros.