Bound Bliss: Master's Slave

The room is filled with the symphony of flesh meeting flesh, the slave's gasps, and the master's satisfied grunts. The slave's body is a canvas, each lash leaving a red, angry line that quickly fades to a bruised, beautiful purple. The master pauses, running a gloved hand over the slave's body, feeling the heat and the pulse of their heart. The slave, their body covered in a sheen of sweat, moans, "More, please." The master smiles, their eyes gleaming with lust and power, and they resume, their strokes steady and precise, pushing the slave higher and higher, until they're both panting and spent.

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