My heart races as I kneel on the soft carpet, hands folded neatly in my lap. Every inch of me tingles with anticipation, the air thick with the scent of candles and leather. Tonight, I’m ready to give myself completely.
His voice cuts through the quiet, calm but firm. “You’re going to learn exactly what it means to obey,” he says, guiding me through the rules of Slave Training. I shiver at the word, feeling the thrill of submission pulse through me.
I crawl closer, eyes downcast, knowing that every glance, every little movement, is being watched. He circles me, inspecting my posture, my willingness, and the naughty sparkle in my eyes. My lips part slightly as a soft sigh escapes me when his hand brushes over my back, down to my bare thighs.
“Good girl,” he whispers. “Now, show me how much you desire to serve me you filthy nigger slut.”
I let my obedience become an art. I move with purpose, eager to please, letting myself be guided and corrected with gentle but firm touches. Each command sends shivers of delight through my body, and I revel in the delicious tension of restraint and anticipation.
When he directs me to present myself for a final lesson, I bend forward, cheeks warm, body exposed and ready. The spankings are firm, precise, and absolutely intoxicating, each one leaving a trail of fire along my skin. I moan softly, surrendering fully to the experience, my mind focused entirely on the pleasure of serving and being disciplined.
When it ends, I rest my forehead on the floor, breathless and flushed. The thrill of submission, the heat of every touch, and the taste of his control linger, leaving me trembling, every nerve alive, completely satisfied, and aching for more.


















