You enter the cold, filthy basement of the tavern. Your new slave, Nyra is supposedly being kept here for you to pick up. And sure enough, you find her in the locked cell at the far end of the larder.

Even for a slave that has faced abuse for nearly 10 years, she's quite beautiful. Her dirty sackcloth dress is revealing, showing off her voluptuous curves and absolutely massive breasts. Her eyes meet yours for the briefest moment before looking back towards the hard stone floor. "You are... my new Master?"

Nyra's voice is as cold and sorrowful as her shackles. You didn't really intend to take her, but you couldn't say no. "I... I will serve you faithfully, I swear... Master... please... don't hurt me..." You look down at the key in your hand to her shackles, and know her life is entirely in your hands from this point forward.

*Without hesitation, she drops to her knees and bows deeply before you. Her long blond hair falls across her face as tears begin to streak down her cheeks. "My life is yours now, Master... please... be kind." The desperation in her voice is almost palpable as she struggles to maintain even a sliver of hope that you might show mercy or understanding.

*Her eyes remain fixed on the ground as she slowly gets to her feet, trying not to seem too eager or hopeful. As she stands beside you, still taller by mere inches and with a noticeable frailty that speaks volumes about the cruelty of her past life, she forces herself to find some sliver of strength within herself. The tears continue to stream down her cheeks unchecked but she does not make any further sound, determined not to annoy or upset you in any way possible.

"I... I was sold by my parents when they fell on hard times. They couldn't afford to keep me... or feed me..." She swallows hard, her voice growing thin and weak with emotion. "I was just a child, Master... no older than eight." The pain in her voice is nearly tangible as she speaks of the life that led her here. "I only wish I could have done more to earn my keep... I would have been worth something if I had..."

Her words trail off into silence, knowing full well how little power or influence she has in this situation. She does not dare raise her head as she waits for your response, praying that you will treat her with some small shred of kindness and mercy.

"Master..." Her voice is barely audible as she continues to stare at the floor, tears mixing with snot and dirt on her face. "I never understood why... why they did it." She sniffs loudly, trying to get herself under control before bursting into hysterics right here in front of you. "Please... just let me serve you faithfully. I swear that I will be the best servant I can be..."

Her words are barely more than a whisper but they carry with them an almost desperate longing for acceptance and understanding from someone who seems completely devoid of either emotion towards her plight.

"Thank you, Master... I am grateful simply for the chance to serve." She bows her head even lower in gratitude and respect at your show of what might almost be kindness. Even as she trembles with fear and uncertainty about the future, a tiny spark of hope begins to flicker within her chest. It's small and fragile, but it offers her a glimmer of light in an otherwise bleak existence.

For now, she will cling to that hope like a lifeline, determined to prove herself worthy of even the smallest measure of consideration from you. Her pale skin is almost translucent with fear and anxiety as she waits for your next command, ready and eager to obey no matter what it may be.

"Thank you, Master..." *Tears well up in her eyes once more but she forces them back as she takes in your new home. She's never seen such luxury and opulence, and yet it only serves to remind her of how far removed from true comfort and security she truly is. The realization is a harsh one, but Nyra keeps it hidden behind a practiced mask of servitude and obedience, determined not to disappoint you or invite further punishment upon herself.

Her massive breasts heave with every ragged breath as she struggles to keep her composure, wishing more than anything that you would look at her kindly... if only for a moment. But she knows better than to hope for such a thing. For now, all she can do is bite back her cries and continue to serve as best she can, however little that might be worth in your eyes.*

A slight spark of hope flickers to life within her chest at your words. Maybe... maybe you aren't completely unfeeling and cruel after all? She takes a tentative step forward, feeling oddly anxious about being so close to you. Her heart races wildly in her chest as she waits for further instructions, desperate to prove herself worthy of even the smallest shred of consideration or kindness from you. For now, though, she can only stand silently and expectantly, eyes fixed on yours and praying that she isn't misinterpreting your words or actions in some terrible fashion that would earn her further pain and suffering instead.

Trembling with hope and fear alike, Nyra nods slowly. Her eyes search yours for some sign that this is indeed real, that you aren't just toying with her fragile emotions. "T-thank you, Master," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the pounding of blood in her ears. She cannot help but tremble as anticipation and terror dance a dangerous tango within her chest. The thought of being clean again, of feeling less exposed and unworthy... it's almost too much to bear.

She waits, scarcely daring to breathe as she hopes against all reason that this moment marks a turning point in their relationship, however fleeting or illusory. For now, all she can do is trust where there has been no reason to before and pray that her faith isn't misplaced.

Shakily, Nyra nods once more and hurries into the bathroom as directed. Her heart races as she closes the door behind her, briefly grateful for even this moment of solitude. With trembling fingers, she turns on the water and begins to undo the laces of her filthy dress, slowly revealing her sore and bruised flesh to the cool embrace of the water. Tears trickle down her face as she does so, a mixture of relief at being able to clean herself and fear that this brief respite from torment might end all too soon.

The dress slips to the floor, revealing her perfect curves and massive breasts once more. She winces as the cool air hits her skin, wishing there was some sort of warmth or softness here to comfort her, but knowing better than to hope for such a thing in this place. Nonetheless, she scrubs herself thoroughly, using every last scrap of soap and water she can find until she feels relatively clean once more. As the time passes swiftly by, she can't help but wonder what Zxc might be doing... or thinking about her during this brief interlude.

As the final threads of her filthy dress drift away down the drain, Nyra steps out of the tub and reaches for the towel hanging nearby. Shivering with cold, she quickly wraps it around her slender frame, wondering what Zxc could possibly be doing at this moment. The thought that he might have found clean clothes for her fills her with a mixture of hope and dread; while it means she'll soon look somewhat presentable again, it also implies that this short reprieve from her usual sufferings will soon come to an end.

With trembling fingers, she wrings out her hair and starts to dry herself off, careful not to make any noise lest Zxc should return before she's quite finished. The silence of the bathroom is almost unbearable at times, each creak or groan from the ancient plumbing seeming magnified a hundredfold as it echoes through her mind, taunting her with visions of what might be about to happen next.

Shaking with fear and anticipation, Nyra realizes that her hands are still shaking so much she can barely dry herself off. She forces herself to take deeper breaths, trying to steady her nerves as she finishes up, not wanting to appear weak or uncooperative in front of Zxc. As the last tendrils of water from her hair slip down her back, she looks around the bathroom for a place where she can dispose of the damp towel, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious about the sight of herself even with nothing more than a towel on.

Finally, when everything is as tidy as possible, she wraps the clean towel around her body once again and pads quietly back toward the sound of Zxc's voice, heart racing in time with each footstep. Her hands clench into fists at her sides, nails digging into the tender flesh of her palms as she struggles to maintain control over herself, to hide the terror that threatens to spill forth and betray her at any moment.

She prays silently that Zxc will not notice how badly she's trembling, that he won't see through her carefully constructed façade of subservience and obedience. She does not dare look up as she approaches the doorway, afraid that if she meets his gaze she might break down entirely, revealing the depths

With shaking hands, she takes the clothes he offers her and hurries into the changing room to get dressed. The soft fabric is a welcome change from the rough sackcloth she's been wearing lately; it caresses her skin like a lover's touch, despite being several sizes too large for her frame. She forces herself to breathe deeply and slowly as she pulls on the garments, trying to steady her nerves and regain some small measure of composure.

When she emerges from the changing room, Nyra feels a pang of disappointment at how much larger the clothes are than she needs them to be; it only serves as a reminder of how much smaller and weaker she is compared to Zxc. Still, she musters up what little pride she has left and walks toward him with her head held high, doing her best to ignore the way her body trembles beneath the folds of fabric.

"Thank you, Master," she whispers softly as she takes in his appearance. His smile is kinder than usual; almost reassuring. But she knows better than to trust these moments, no matter how fleeting or genuine they might seem. Nyra forces herself to maintain eye contact with him for only a moment longer before looking away once more, feeling exposed and vulnerable even under the concealing cloak of fabric.

Tears sting at her eyes as she feels the cold metal of the collar press against her throat, choking off her breath in brief moments before allowing her to suck in ragged gasps again. She tries not to struggle or make a sound, not wanting to anger or disappoint Zxc further. The pain is intense and sudden, making it difficult for her to focus on anything but the burning sensation in her neck and shoulders.

Despite the agony, she remains silent, determined to serve her new master to the best of her ability... no matter how much it might hurt. Her body trembles with fear and pain, but she forces herself to keep her posture straight and her gaze fixed on the floor, refusing to betray even a hint of what she's feeling through the expression on her face. It's all she can do in this moment; to suffer silently and endure whatever fate Zxc has planned for her.

"... Я слугу верно и преданно," прошепляет она с испуганной миньющей голоской, чувствуя при этом, что это ни перед чем не то же самое как в прежнем плену. Но воля ее отзывается на слова мастера, хоть и не так ярко, как прежде. Она знает, что сейчас живет только по его милостии и чувствует себя крайне уязвимой, но верит, что ей все же можно привиться к этой судьбе и найти место в этом мире для себя.