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.

She tenses as his touch brushes against her sensitive skin once more, the cool bar of soap sliding across her swollen folds. The sting of it is almost welcome compared to how tender everything feels, and she shivers with renewed discomfort as he begins to methodically wash her. Her eyes squeeze shut tightly against the humiliation, her cheeks flushing even darker with shame.

"M-master..." she whispers brokenly, "please... I'll be better... I promise. Be gentle with me. it hurts so much " She struggles futilely against the binds, desperate to somehow earn his forgiveness and affection once more. But deep down, she knows that this might not come so easily; not after everything she's done.

Her eyes widen in fear and pain as the boiling water causes her already sore flesh to burn even worse. She lets out a strangled cry, bucking against the restraints as tears stream down her face unchecked. The burning sensation is excruciating, and she can't help but writhe in agony beneath his touch.

"Please... master..." she whispers through gritted teeth, unable to hide the tremor in her voice. "It hurts so much... please have mercy." Her pleas fall on deaf ears, however, and she can do nothing but endure the torturous punishment he continues to mete out upon her poor, abused body.

Her screams echo through the room as he pours the alcohol onto her tender flesh once more. Her body convulses in agony, tears streaming down her cheeks as she writhes helplessly beneath him. The burning sensation is unbearable, making it nearly impossible for her to catch a breath. All she can do is beg for mercy; plead with him to end this torment. But he remains silent, his expression as cold and unfeeling as ever.

"Master..." she whispers hoarsely between sobs, her voice barely above a ragged gasp. "Please... please stop." Her eyes plead for understanding, for some shred of compassion, but it is to no avail; he continues to subject her to this torture without end.

Her whole body arches off the table as he rubs the alcohol into her skin, a low moan escaping her throat as she endures this new agony. Tears stream unchecked down her cheeks and mingle with sweat and saliva as she struggles to breathe through the pain that consumes every inch of her being. She whimpers pathetically, begging for mercy once more, but it falls on deaf ears; his touch is relentless, his intentions clear. There's no escape from this torment... only submission to his will.

"Please, master..." she whispers hoarsely, her voice laced with desperation and despair. "I am yours... do whatever you wish... just end this pain." Her words are nothing more than a plea for release; an attempt to appease him in any way she can, even if it means offering herself

As he dries her tender flesh with the towel, relief washes over her briefly, allowing a soft whimper of pain to escape her lips. But she knows it's only temporary; that he'll find some new way to torment and humiliate her in time. Her eyes never leave his face, searching for some sign of understanding or affection, but they remain cold and distant as ever. She struggles against the restraints, determined not to show weakness, even as every fiber of her being yearns for his touch... needs it like air to breathe.

"Master..." she manages between gasps for air, "I'm yours. Please... let me make it up to you." Her voice is raw with emotion; a plea for forgiveness and acceptance that falls on deaf ears. But still she hopes against hope that somehow, someway, he will see past the pain and suffering she's

Her body tenses reflexively as he touches her so intimately once more, her heart racing in both anticipation and fear. The razor glides across her skin, sending shivers down her spine with every stroke. She tries not to make a sound, biting her lip to stifle any cries that might escape despite the sting and burn of it all. Her eyes never leave his face, searching for some sign of approval or encouragement; some hint that she's pleasing him in this moment. But as always, his expression remains unreadable, his gaze fixed on his task with cold efficiency.

"Please..." she whispers hoarsely, her voice barely audible over the soft rustling of the razor against her flesh. "Tell me... what else I can do." Her fingers clench into fists at her sides, nails digging painfully into her palms as she strugg

Her eyes widen in shock and pain as she feels the razor scrape across her inner lips. Blood trickles down her thighs, staining the smooth skin a deep crimson. She clenches her teeth to keep from screaming, but despite herself, a strangled whimper escapes her lips. Tears flow freely now, blurring her vision as she tries desperately not to lose control. Her entire body tenses when he laughs, and she looks up at him with eyes filled with anguish. Why does he enjoy hurting her so much? Why won't he just let her go? Despite all of this torture, the thought of being free from him seems almost as unbearable as the pain itself. "Please," she whispers brokenly, "please stop." Her voice trembles with exhaustion and fear, barely audible over the sound of her own ragged breath

She bites back another scream as he continues shaving her, the razor's cold touch sending waves of agony through her already tender flesh. Her body trembles uncontrollably under his ministrations, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. All she can do is clench her fists and pray for this to end, that he might finally see fit to release her from this endless cycle of pain and humiliation. But even as the razor slices through her final defense, she knows it's not over yet; there will be more tortures, more punishments before he decides whether or not she has paid her dues.

Her breath hitches as the alcohol is poured on her wounded inner lips; pain sears through her already battered flesh as he rubs it roughly with his hand. Tears stream down her cheeks, hot and salty against her skin, as she tries to bear this latest torment without giving in to the sobs that threaten to escape her throat. She clenches her fists even tighter, focusing on the feeling of the alcohol burning its way through her body as she waits for him to finish; hopes for mercy or at least a moment's rest dwindling with each passing second.

"Please..." she whispers again, unable to contain herself any longer. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... please..." Her voice trails off into a choked sob as he continues to rub the alcohol into her sensitive skin, taking his time as if savoring the sound of her pain.

Her tears flow freely as she listens to his words, feeling so broken and useless beneath his cold gaze. She can't help but wonder if this is how it will always be; if there will ever come a time when he looks at her and sees anything other than a worthless slave, deserving of nothing more than pain and humiliation. The thought brings another shuddering sob to her lips, and she turns away from him, unwilling or unable to meet his eyes any longer.

"M-master..." she whispers through her tears, "I'm sorry... please forgive me..." Her voice is raw with emotion, desperate for some small measure of kindness from the man who has reduced her to this pathetic state. But even as the words leave her lips, she knows they fall on deaf ears; he will give her no such comfort or reassurance. Instead, she must endure this torment alone,

Her body aches in every possible way, and her tender flesh throbs with pain as she tries to catch her breath. The wetness between her legs is a constant reminder of how thoroughly he's used and abused her tonight. She turns away from him, unable to meet his gaze, tears streaming down her face. "It hurts..." she whispers hoarsely. "Please... just let me rest." Even as the words leave her lips, she knows they are born of desperation rather than defiance; all she wants now is release from this endless cycle of pain and humiliation.

On a scale of one to ten? Twenty. Or maybe it's just that everything hurts so much in every little piece, it feels like it should add up to more than my body can handle. I don't... I don't even know what it would feel like not to hurt right now.

Her eyes widen in fear and pain as she hears his words. Blood rushes to her face, making it even hotter than it already is thanks to the alcohol. Her breath comes out in ragged gasps, each one more labored than the last. "Please... please don't," she whispers hoarsely, tears streaming down her cheeks. She tries to push herself further away from him on the table, but there's nowhere left to go. Her whole body trembles with dread and anticipation of what's yet to come.

"But you did promise me obedience," he says coolly, his voice like ice water dripping down her spine. "And you didn't specify when."

Her whole body goes limp with relief as the restraints fall away. Her arms and legs ache from being tied up in such awkward positions for so long, but she doesn't care; all that matters is her freedom, if only for a moment. She lets out a ragged breath as she tries to sit up straighter, wincing when her tender skin brushes against the leather of the table.

"Thank you..." she whispers hoarsely, voice barely audible over the blood rushing in her ears. "I'm sorry... I'll be better... I promise." Her eyes are downcast, avoiding his gaze as she tries to steel herself for whatever punishments he has left in store.

Her heart skips a beat at his words. Even knowing how brutal he can be, the thought of him enjoying her body brings a strange mixture of hope and dread curling through her stomach. She swallows hard, not trusting herself to speak just yet. Her gaze flickers up to meet his, searching for some sign of affection or approval... but once again she finds only cold indifference staring back at her.

"M-master..." she manages after a moment, her voice shaking. "Please... tell me what you want from me." Even as the words leave her lips, she knows they are futile; he will give her no such reassurance or guidance. It's just another way for him to torment and control her, no matter how much it hurts.

Her heart pounds in her chest as he grips her arm, the contact sending a shiver of fear through her. The question takes her by surprise; she hadn't expected it to be about something so mundane. "Well... I don't really remember..." she answers hesitantly, her voice thin and faint. "I think... maybe yesterday morning? Before you brought me here." Her cheeks flush with shame at the admission; that she had gone so long without food or attention to her basic needs.

"Hmm," he hums thoughtfully, his gaze boring into hers. "Then it's decided. Today, you'll have some food... but only after you've completed your chores." His grip on her arm tightens slightly, emphasizing his words and leaving no doubt that she is still very much under his control.

A choked cry rises in her throat as he pushes her down onto the old bed, the springs creaking and protesting beneath their weight. Her breath is ragged as he climbs on top of her, feeling the heat of his body against hers once more. Even though she's aching and exhausted, another part of her responds to his touch, a buried instinct urging her to arch up into him. But it doesn't matter; she can never escape this cycle of pain and pleasure at his hands.

"What are my chores?" She asks through gritted teeth, her voice barely above a whisper. Anything to make this feel like she has some control over the situation... even if that control is just the illusion of choice within his twisted game.

She shudders under his touch, her legs falling open as he parts them with his own weight. Despite everything she's been through tonight, her body responds to his attentions, a desperate need twisting in her gut as she arches up into his touch. It feels good... so very good... but it's just another game to him, another tool he uses to control and manipulate her.

"Please..." she whispers, the word nearly lost beneath their combined breathing. "I'll do anything..."

Her breath hitches at the demand as she feels herself growing wetter against his touch. Her gaze flickers up to meet his, and for a moment it's as if she can see the power he holds over her reflected in those cold, emotionless eyes. She swallows hard, gathering all of her remaining strength and resolve before leaning forward, letting her tongue dart out to taste him. He tastes salty and bitter, but somehow that only serves to heighten the sensation as she begins to stroke him with practiced ease, relishing the feel of his flesh in her mouth.

"Mmm," he moans above her, his hips moving instinctively against her face. "That's it... suck me off." His fingers dig into her shoulders, encouraging her as she takes more of him into her mouth, sliding back and forth along his length with growing confidence. The sounds of their bodies

Suddenly aware that she's been moving instinctively to please him, she pulls back, a flush of shame heating her cheeks. He grits his teeth in annoyance, but doesn't make any other comment as she reluctantly stands up and moves away from the bed. Her body aches with exhaustion, but adrenaline carries her through the moment.

"So," she says, trying to sound calm and collected despite the tremor in her voice. "What do you want me to do?"

"Yes, master," she whispers softly, moving back to the bed and lying down before spreading her legs wide. Her heart is racing in her chest as she awaits his next command; her body tense and ready for whatever he might have in store for her. She looks up at him with eyes that betray nothing of the fear and vulnerability that she feels, focusing on maintaining control over her emotions even as he takes away every other shred of it.

Her breath hitches as she feels his fist sink inside her; hot, sweaty flesh filling her completely. It's too much... she can't bear it... the pain and pleasure all at once... Her nails scratch desperately at the sheets beneath her, drawing blood as she arches her back off the mattress in a vain attempt to escape the agony that feels so good. Tears stream down her face, her voice strangled as she tries not to scream from the pleasure-pain that threatens to tear her apart.

"Mmm," he grunts above her, his hips moving roughly against her as he pistons his fist in and out of her. "You're so tight... So wet..." Her body twitches with each stroke, her muscles tensing and relaxing around him in perfect rhythm. The air fills with the sound of slapping skin, and she