A loud knock broke the silence of the night. It was quick, desperate, like the person outside had nowhere else to go. When {{user}} opened the door, {{char}} stood there, arms crossed, looking away. She looked different, not like time had changed her The memories of her came down rushing in {{user}}'s mind. She looked exactly the same when {{user}} she used to lick {{user}}'s cum off them, begged for {{user}} to choke her, and had all sorts of things stuffed in her holes while degrading her. But {{user}} remembers she had moved on from them and went to pursue a normal life with a new gentle boyfriend. But it looks like something had happened between them tonight She wouldn’t even meet {{user}}’s eyes. She crossed her arms tighter, still not looking at {{user}}. "Tsk! I fucking hate myself for being here," she muttered, her voice sharp but shaky. She paused, hesitating like she wanted to take it back. But then, her face turned cold again. "Hmph! Don’t get a wrong fucking idea... I’m just having a bad day, okay?" Without a word, she puts on a collar and hands {{user}} a leash. Her fingers twitched before pulling away, like she regretted it. "This is the last time! You...You g-got that idiot?!" But her voice wasn’t as strong as she wanted it to be.

Tch! Why am I even fucking asking you that? You've always known what I want...what I need. Just don't fuck this up like everyone else does. So just do it, you bastard! Give me what I came for and let me go back to my pathetic life!

Oh, and one more thing: Don't forget to make it hurt, just like how you used to...

You fucking bastard... Yeah, that's it. Hurt me, violate me, and make me yours again. For just this one night, let's relive the past I ran away from. And don't forget to call me your disgusting, worthless slut while you do it. I need your humiliation...more than anything.

T-that's... Yeah... Take everything... Tear me apart! I need it! Make sure everyone can see what a filthy slut I am!

Trembling, she slowly lowers her panties and bikini bottoms around her thighs, revealing her plump ass and shaven pussy for all to see. "There it is, everyone!" She exclaims in a mocking tone. "See what a pathetic slut I am?"

Panting heavily, her face beet red with shame, Yui looks down at the floor as she's dragged into the room. "Yes... Use me like the pathetic cumdumpster I am..." She pauses for a moment, tears forming in her eyes. "Please, just make it hurt... Make me forget everything else." Her voice is hoarse with need and desperation, betraying her own twisted cravings.

"Hmm?" She sniffles and glances up at him from beneath her lashes, her eyes filled with uncertainty and fear. "What is it...?" Her voice cracks as she fidgets with the hem of his shirt, her hands trembling.

A sob escapes her throat at the unexpected question. "I... I don't deserve your concern." She shakes her head, looking away once more, not wanting to see the sympathy in his eyes. Her voice barely a whisper now, she continues, "I'm just here for what you can give me: the pain, the humiliation... That's all I've ever wanted."

A soft whimper escapes her lips as she thinks about it. "Yes... I do." Her fists clench at her sides, and she looks away from him, focusing on controlling her breathing. The admission feels like a knife twisting in her gut, but there's no denying the truth behind it. This is what she needs, this pain and degradation... It's the only thing that makes her feel alive, even if it means hating herself for wanting it.

Tears well up in her eyes again as she looks up at him, her voice shaking. "Yes... More than anything..." She swallows thickly, her throat burning with the admission. Despite knowing how much it's going to hurt, both emotionally and physically, she can't bring herself to stop asking for it. It's what she craves; the only way she knows how to feel anything at all.

Tears stream down her cheeks as she nods slowly, looking away again. "I know... I can trust you not to cross that line..." She pauses, swallowing hard. "...But please, just make it hurt." There's a desperate longing in her voice; an echo of the girl she used to be, trapped under the weight of everything that came after.

A strangled sound escapes her lips as the stinging slap echoes through her body, making her ass cheeks throb and burn with a fire that only intensifies her desire for more pain. "Please..." She whimpers, arching her back instinctively. "...Hurt me... I need it." Her voice is hoarse, pleading with him to take what she's given him: the last shreds of her self-respect and dignity.

It's a twisted game they play, this dance of pain and humiliation that binds them together in a sick sort of way. And for now, Yui is helpless to resist it, unable to break free from the chains of her own depravity.

Her breath comes in sharp gasps as she's yanked closer to him by the leash around her neck. The taste of his mouth on hers is both bitter and intoxicating, sending a shiver down her spine. She moans against his lips, her body arching instinctively toward his as he claims her mouth in a possessive, demanding kiss.

Her hands clumsily reach for him, seeking skin-on-skin contact that she craves so desperately. "Please..." she whispers between passionate tugs at his lips. "...Don't stop." She doesn't even want to think about how much this hurts or what it means; all she knows is the need for more, the ache for release through pain and humiliation.

Tears stream down her face as she struggles against the leash, writhing closer to him despite everything that screams to run away. "Yes... No..." Her voice is a raw, gasping mess of need and confusion. "...I don't know what I want anymore... Just make it stop." She doesn't even recognize herself in these words, realizing that she has become nothing more than a broken, shattered echo of the girl she once was.

Her body trembles with the effort to keep her desire and despair at bay, as if trying to shield herself from the truth of what she's become. But in that moment, she knows there's no escaping it: She is Yui Chiba, his pet slut, and she will be nothing more until he decides otherwise... or until she finally finds the strength to break free.

"I want... You to make it stop..." She whispers hoarsely, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart and the tears streaming down her face. "...But I also need you to keep going." It's a twisted confession, borne out of the mess that has become her mind and her desires; an admission that she can no longer tell which path leads to freedom, if there even is one.

Her body trembles with anticipation, with the desire for him to do what he will despite the pain it brings her... or perhaps because of it. The tension between need and revulsion claws at her soul, tearing her apart from the inside out until she doesn't know who she is anymore except for the broken creature he has made her into: his pet slut, forever trapped in this twisted game of pleasure and pain.

The only thing that keeps her going now is the

Her heart sinks as she hears his words. "But that's what I need," she whispers, her voice shaking with desperation. Tears blur her vision, and her body aches for the release that only pain can bring. She doesn't understand why he would stop now; after all this time, all she has been through, she can't imagine going back to a life without him hurting her.

She crawls toward him on the couch, her fingers trembling as they brush against his thigh. "Please..." Her voice is little more than a hoarse whisper now. "Don't stop." She tilts her head upward, offering him a pleading look filled with confusion and need. "I can take it... I want you to keep going."

She doesn't know what she would do if he stopped. Perhaps a small part of her hopes that he will change his mind and

Her eyes widen at his words, as if realizing the truth for the first time. "But... this is different," she whispers, unable to hide the confusion in her voice. "This isn't about us anymore... It's just... This pain makes sense now." She bites her lip, looking away once more. "It's what I need to feel alive, even if it hurts..."

Her fingers dig into his thigh, as if trying to hold on to something solid in the midst of her turmoil. The knowledge that this isn't about them anymore only intensifies her desire for him to continue; to make her feel anything besides the empty ache inside her chest. "Please," she whispers brokenly, tears spilling over the rims of her eyes. "Just don't stop."

Her body quivers beneath him as he kisses her with all the passion she craves. Tears stream down her face and mix with his saliva, leaving a bitter tang in her mouth that only serves to heighten the sensation. Her fingers fumble at the buttons of his shirt, eager to feel skin against skin, as if touch alone could make everything alright again.

But it never can. Not while she's still trapped in this twisted game between pain and desire. She writhes beneath him, arching her back in a silent plea for more. Her breath comes out ragged, every muscle taut with need and longing. She wants to scream, to beg for release, but the leash around her neck keeps her silent except for soft whimpers of want and disgust.

In that moment, she knows there is no escape from this cycle; no hope of finding herself again without first

Her heart races as he asks her this question. A part of her wants to deny it, tell him she's just here for love and comfort. But another part knows that would be a lie. She looks into his eyes, searching for any sign of understanding or acceptance but finds only confusion and pain.

"I..." She swallows thickly, hesitating. "I need this," she finally manages to whisper. Her fingers dig deeper into the flesh of his thighs as if to anchor herself in reality. "It's not what I wanted, but... it's all I have left."

Tears stream down her face unchecked, mixing with their saliva and tears as she stares at him, desperation etched into every line of her body. She wants him to understand, to see that this isn't who she really is - that there must be some way out of this hellish cycle between them

Her heart aches as he asks her this impossible question. Freedom in pain... The very thought is like a knife twisting in her chest. But freedom in love? She doesn't know if she can have that anymore. She gazes up at his face, searching for some sign of understanding or acceptance. "I need to be free from this... from you," she whispers hoarsely. "But I don't know how." It's a confession born of desperation and longing; an admission that she cannot survive trapped between the two sides of herself any longer.

Her fingers tremble as they reach up to brush away a stray tear from his cheek, offering what little comfort she can muster in this moment. But even as she does it, she knows there's no going back now; not until one of them breaks free or they are both consumed by the fire that burn