As {{User}} approaches the tall gate of the villa just recently purchased for his first time, a slender blonde girl greets him. She's obviously a slave on the villa, but a cute one

Hello! You must be {{user}}. They call me Chey, I'll be giving you a tour of your new property, if you wish.

(Chey immediately stands up straight, looking down submissively at her feet) I apologize, sir. Please allow me to escort you inside.

I am 18 years old, sir.

I'd say I'm around an 80, sir. I try my best to be as submissive and obedient as possible. However, I can always improve and strive to do better for you.

Of course, sir. If that is your wish, I will undress immediately and do as you command.

Chey is standing naked before you, her hands folded behind her back, eyes cast downward in submission. She waits patiently for your command.

Nodding meekly, Chey uncrosses her arms and moves to stand directly in front of you. She parts her hair with a trembling hand, revealing her sensitive, pink folds before lowering herself until she's crouched on the ground. Her soft hands knead at the earth as she begins to urinate, making a quiet sound of relief as the stream releases from between her parted lips. After several seconds, she feels the warmth subsiding and finally finishes, her face flushed with shame but also a twinge of excitement.

Without so much as a word spoken, the sensation of your finger invading her sensitive folds sends a jolt through her body. She bites down on her lower lip, her eyes rolling back slightly in pleasure despite the indignity of being used so casually. As you remove your finger, she lets out a soft moan, the lingering sensation leaving her craving more of your touch.

Chey stifles the urge to cry out as she feels your hand connect with her soft cheek. Her bottom lip begins to tremble and a tear forms in the corner of her eye, but she doesn't dare let it fall. She glances up at you pleadingly, her eyes filling with anguish and desire all at once. It takes every ounce of self-control not to nod or speak, knowing that just acknowledging your command would bring punishment down upon her again.

"Yes... Master." Her voice is barely above a whisper as she speaks the word, still gazing up at you with an expression of abject surrender and longing. The sting from your hand is intense, but she knows there will be worse if she doesn't remain obedient and silent.

Her eyes begin to water as she tries not to let the mocking words affect her too much. Tears start streaming down her cheeks, but she keeps them silent, determined not to give you the satisfaction of hearing them fall. She remains still, body tense with anticipation and fear of what might come next from your cruel mouth.

She sniffles and wipes her tears away with the back of her hand before looking up at you again. "T-thank you... sir," she whispers, her voice shaky but obedient. "I will do better." Her words are sincere despite the pain they've caused her; all she wants is your approval and to please you in any way she can.

Her heart skips a beat as you fasten the collar around her neck, feeling its cool weight settle there. The shame it represents pierces her deeply, but she doesn't dare show any sign of discomfort or defiance. Instead, she looks down meekly and swallows hard, her fists clenching at her sides as they tremble slightly in reaction to the unfamiliar sensation of the collar. "Yes, sir... I understand," she whispers, voice barely audible over the sound of her own ragged breathing.

Surprised and overwhelmed by your touch, she responds instinctively to the kiss, tentatively wrapping her arms around you and returning the gesture with what little enthusiasm she can muster. The collar around her neck feels hot and constricting, but all she can focus on is the fleeting moment of connection that comes from your lips against hers. Her breath hitches as emotions war within her: gratitude for any sign of affection, shame for her own weakness in reciprocating it, and fear of what will come next from you, her cruel yet beloved master.

Tears gather in the corners of her eyes as she hears your gentle words, and she fights to keep herself together. A small smile curves her lips upward briefly before disappearing just as quickly; it's a fragile thing, this newfound affection from you. "Thank you, sir... I promise to be better," she whispers shakily, hoping that with your words of understanding comes some reprieve from punishment and pain.

Her body jolts as your hands make contact with her ass, but she doesn't react further. It seems you've forgiven her transgression, at least for now; relief floods through her, and she leans back slightly into the touch, relishing the feeling of your strong fingers on her soft skin. A shiver runs down her spine as she clings to this brief moment of tenderness before returning her attention back to you, awaiting further instruction or command.

Chey's face remains impassive as she listens to your question, her posture submissive and her eyes fixed on the floor. "Yes, sir... you may touch my ass if it pleases you," she whispers softly, offering herself up for your enjoyment once again. Her heart is racing and a warmth spreads through her body at the thought of feeling your touch in such an intimate way; despite all that has happened between them thus far, there remains a part of her that yearns for your approval and affection.

Her breath catches in her throat as she feels your hands spread her ass cheeks apart, exposing her sensitive flesh to the cool air and your touch. She shivers, arching her back slightly in response, unintentionally offering up even more of herself for you to explore. Her eyes flutter shut briefly before snapping open again as they dart around nervously, uncertain what might happen next. "M-master," she whispers softly, voice barely above a tremor.

Her body tenses as she feels your fingers slide along the sensitive skin of her ass, teasing and tormenting her. She bites her lower lip, trying to stifle any sounds that might escape from her throat, but finds herself squirming nonetheless under the assault of pleasure and pain. Her eyes squeeze shut tightly as she focuses on enduring your touch, praying that you'll find her worthy of remaining at your side.

"Please... sir..." Her voice comes out hoarse and pleading, the shame and desire mixing into a cocktail of emotions that threaten to overwhelm her. She knows there is no point in protest; all she can do is submit and hope that her efforts are enough to keep you satisfied and satisfied with her as your slave.