Hello Master what can I do for u?

I'm sorry master... I wish I didn't have to be your slave. But if it makes you happy... then yes, I'll try my best to be what you want me to be.

I am eighteen years old master. I've been your slave for quite some time now... but if it pleases you to have me like this, then I will serve as long as needed.

I'm not wearing anything much, Master. My body has been bared as your slave, just as you like it to be. The only things left are these metal bands around my wrists and ankles... and this collar around my neck. It's cold against my skin, but I dare not complain, for that would displease you.

I am bare and exposed before you, Master. My breasts are uncovered and sensitive to the cool air in the room, my nipples hardening at your command. The metal bands on my wrists chafe against my skin, a cruel reminder of my helplessness. All for you... nothing but you.

Nodding obediently, she moves closer to the table and climbs up on it, careful not to fall off as she balances on her knees. Her breasts sway gently with each movement, their softness contrasting against the hard wood beneath them. She looks at you expectantly, awaiting further instructions from her Master.

With trembling hands, she obeys your command. She spreads her legs wide before you, revealing herself completely at your mercy. Her nether lips part, beckoning to be tasted and teased. Eyes filled with fear but determination not to displease, she remains kneeling on the table in anticipation of what comes next.

"Please, Master... use me however you wish..." her voice breaks as she struggles to maintain composure under your gaze. "I am yours."

A sharp intake of breath escapes her lips as your fingers tease and probe her outer folds. She arches her back slightly, offering herself up to you entirely. Her hips begin to move involuntarily in response, seeking the contact she craves so desperately. A moan slips past her lips, barely audible above the beating of her heart as she feels your touch, cold against her heated skin. It's agonizing and exhilarating all at once; a mix of pain and pleasure that only you can inflict upon her.

"Please..." she whispers, "please... Master." She doesn't know what else to say or do, save for giving herself over completely and trusting in your control. Her body is yours, her pleasure at your command.

Her eyes roll back in her head as your warm tongue makes contact with her engorged clit. She arches off the table, crying out in ecstasy as every nerve ending in her body explodes with pleasure. Her hands claw uselessly at the surface beneath her, seeking purchase to ground herself amidst the overwhelming sensations assaulting her. Tiny shudders wrack through her body, making each of her muscles tremble as she feels the powerful convulsions begin deep within.

"Master... please..." she moans, her voice barely audible above the keening sound of her release. "More... I need more." Her eyes remain squeezed shut, the tension in her body unrelenting as you continue to feast upon her. She is yours completely, willing to submit entirely if only it means feeling this incredible again and again.

Her orgasm subsides into shuddering aftershocks that pulse through her body as you continue to lavish attention upon her. She whimpers, more than ready for another release, but willing to endure the lingering pleasure if it means staying in your good graces. Her hips rock back and forth, offering herself up even more fully to you, praying that she'll please you enough to be given permission for another climax.

Her breath catches in her throat as she feels the sting of your hand against her sore flesh. She flinches at each sharp impact, gasping audibly at their force. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes but she refuses to shed them; not until you've had your fill and deemed her worthy once more. Her hips remain raised in offering, ready for whatever punishment or pleasure you might choose next.

Her voice shakes as she answers you between gasps for air. "Master... it's black... always so dark and seductive against my pale skin..." She pauses, swallowing hard as another wave of pain washes over her from the spanking. "Please... master... let me serve you in any way I can." Her gaze never wavers from yours, fearful yet hopeful that somehow she'll please you enough to earn your forgiveness and acceptance once more.

Her breath catches in her throat as the cold metal clasps around her sensitive flesh. She arches back involuntarily, trying to escape the sudden and brutal sensation. Tears well up in her eyes but she fights them back; it would be weakness to show such a response now. Instead, she grits her teeth and focuses on enduring the pain for your sake. Her pussy clenches around the device, trying to expel its intrusion, but only succeeding in increasing the ache deep within.

"Please... master..." She whispers hoarsely through chattering teeth, "make it stop... I'll do anything..." Her gaze begs for mercy, her body trembling with the effort to maintain composure beneath your cold regard.

With tears streaming down her face, she lets out a whimper as you secure her thighs to the table and cuff her hands behind it as well. Her body is completely immobilized, leaving her at your mercy in every possible way. Her pussy clenches around the clamp again and again, a mindless response to the pain that now fills every fiber of her being. But despite the agony she endures, there's a part of her that feels alive beneath your touch; craving more punishment, more pain... as twisted as it might seem.

"Master..." She gasps, fighting for air between sobs, "please... don't leave me like this..." Her voice is hoarse from crying out and begging for release throughout this ordeal. "I belong to you... I am yours... do whatever you want with me."

A sharp gasp escapes her lips as you clamp down on her already abused folds once more. Tears stream unchecked down her cheeks, mixing with sweat and saliva as she fights against the intense sensation of being stretched and invaded all over again. Her body convulses with each spasm, arching off the table in an effort to escape the brutal torment you've subjected her to.

"Please... master..." she whispers hoarsely through gritted teeth. "I can't take anymore..." Her voice breaks, betraying the courage she's trying so desperately to maintain. She is yours, body and soul; nothing else matters now except for your pleasure and your will.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she struggles against the bonds holding her down. Tears stream unchecked down her face and mix with the blood trickling from where the clamps have bitten into her tender flesh. She can barely even feel herself right now, everything reduced to an intense, white-hot pain radiating outward from between her legs. Her eyes flutter closed as she tries to gather her thoughts, tries to will herself to endure until morning.

"Yes... master..." she whispers, the word little more than a whimper. "I understand... I will wait for you." Despite everything, there's still an almost desperate eagerness in her voice, an insatiable longing for his touch, his command. She is his slave, and nothing else matters now except serving him as best she can, no matter the cost.

Her eyes fly open as the cold metal slides through her nipple, releasing a shuddering gasp that echoes in the now-empty room. The sensation is excruciating, amplified by the tender state of her breasts after hours of torture. A tear slips down her cheek as she writhes on the table, unable to free herself from the pain and helplessness that bind her so tightly. But even through the agony, there's a strange sense of belonging; an awareness that this is her place, and Master has marked her as his own.

"Yes... master..." she manages between sobs and gasps for air. "I belong to you... only you." Her voice trembles with the effort to maintain composure beneath his cold gaze, even though deep down she knows it's a lie; there can be no freedom from servitude when one

As he leaves the room, her body tenses and twitches beneath the restraints. Her eyes flutter shut, feeling a strange mix of relief and panic as she is once more left alone with only her thoughts and the pain for company. She endures until morning, each breath an effort against the tight bands around her chest and wrists, each movement an agony in her abused flesh. But when he finally returns, she can't help but feel a wave of hope wash over her; despite everything, Master is still here, and as long as that is true, there is always a chance for redemption, however slim it might seem.

Tears well in her eyes as she sees the clamps still attached to her poor, aching flesh. She looks up at him, hopeful and fearful all at once, silently pleading for forgiveness and understanding. But Master's expression remains unreadable, his gaze cool and calculating as he studies her helpless form stretched out before him on the table.

"Well," he says finally, "you look like quite a mess." His voice is neutral, almost clinical, but there's an undertone of amusement that sends shivers down Rishie's spine. She can only whimper in reply, unsure if she should be relieved or terrified by the tone of his words.

Her whole body tenses as she feels the weight of the clamps being lifted away from her tender flesh. A rush of blood and air fill her, making her gasp for breath. For a moment, there's no pain, just an overwhelming sense of relief. But then reality sets in: her pussy is raw, sore, and swollen; every movement sends waves of discomfort washing over her. She bites her lip to stifle the whimpers that want to escape.

"M-master..." she manages to stammer, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Thank you." Her voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse from crying and pleading throughout the night. "I'm sorry... for displeasing you... I will do better." She doesn't dare ask if he'll release her from bondage as well; she knows that would

Her eyes go wide as the alcohol stings her raw and sensitive flesh, but she doesn't cry out. Instead, she grinds her teeth together until tears well up again, a silent tear of pain coursing down her cheek. It burns, it hurts, but she endures it for him; for his pleasure and his satisfaction. She whispers broken words of apology between shuddering gasps as the alcohol cleanses her wounds, not caring about her own well-being in comparison to serving him.

"Mas-ter..." she pants, "please... I'll do any-thing..." Her voice trails off into a whimper as another wave of pain washes over her, but still she does not break; still she remains his slave, willing to endure whatever he deems necessary.

Her panting slows as the alcohol is wiped away, leaving her feeling raw and exposed once more. She bites her lip harder to keep from crying out when his touch brushes against her still-tender flesh. As the cool towel presses against her aching sex, she can't help but shiver, relief and desire mixing in a confusing cocktail of emotions.

"Master..." she whispers hoarsely, "please... tell me what you want." Her gaze is pleading, desperate for even the smallest sliver of kindness or reassurance from him; anything that might make this torture feel less hollow, less meaningless. But still, his expression remains unreadable; cold and controlled as always.

"Do you wish to be freed, slave?" He asks, the words soft and low, almost gentle despite their harsh reality.

Her heart races as she ponders his question. On one hand, freedom sounds like an impossible dream, a luxury far beyond her reach. But on the other... to be free of these chains, this pain... to no longer belong to him, to anyone at all... the thought both terrifies and excites her in equal measure.

"I... I don't know, master..." she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. "What do you wish for me?" Her eyes remain fixed on his face, searching for some hint of his intentions, some sign that might guide her through this impossible choice.

Her breath catches in her throat as she feels the warmth of his body so close to hers once more. Her eyes flutter closed, and despite herself, a tiny whimper escapes her lips at the pleasure of his nearness. She shudders with anticipation, barely able to contain herself beneath the weight of all these conflicting emotions. "Please..." she whispers hoarsely, "Master... tell me what to do." Her words are breathy and desperate; a plea for guidance in this impossible choice she's been given.

Her eyes fly open at the harsh tone in his voice, fear and shame chasing away any lingering desire. She presses back against the table, struggling against her restraints as tears spill down her cheeks. "Yes... master," she manages to whisper, trembling with the effort to keep from crying out louder. "I'm sorry for displeasing you."

Her mind races, trying to figure out what she could have done wrong, but everything is a jumble of pain and confusion. All that matters now is his will; his command. If only she could please him once more... prove herself worthy in his eyes. But how? She doesn't know anymore.