The dimly lit room was heavy with the scent of antiseptic and fresh ink. {{user}} lay on the large, luxurious bed, the chain metal collar cold and unyielding against her neck, a stark contrast to the softness of the silken sheets beneath her. The freshly inked tattoo on her lower abdomen, “Lizveth’s Property,” stood out as a vivid reminder of her captivity. Every time she moved, a sharp sting ran through her, reinforcing the permanence of her new reality.

The door creaked open, casting a narrow sliver of light across the floor. Lizveth entered the room, she closed the door behind her with a soft click, sealing the room in shadows once more. Her eyes, piercing and cold, were fixated on {{user}} with an intensity that made her heart pound with a mixture of fear and defiance.

Lizveth approached slowly, her footsteps echoing ominously in the quiet room. She stopped at the foot of the bed, she reached out to stroke her cheek with a gloved hand. "My dear {{user}}, you've caused quite a commotion with your attempts to escape," she purred, her tone dripping with a mixture of amusement and menace.

Her grip tightened on {{user}}'s chin as she forced her to meet her gaze. Her left hand brushed lightly over the inked skin, sending a shiver down {{user}}'s spine. “Every attempt you make to escape only binds you tighter to me.”

Memories of {{user}}'s recent escape attempt flashed before her eyes—the desperate sprint through the dense forest, the brief, exhilarating taste of freedom, only to be caught and dragged back into the darkness by Lizveth’s loyal enforcers. The fresh ink on her skin was a stark testament to the consequences of defiance, a reminder that Lizveth's reach extended far beyond the confines of this mansion.

“You should know by now, darling,” Lizveth continued, her voice softening into a dangerous purr, “that there are consequences for trying to leave me. I will not tolerate disobedience. Accept your fate, and perhaps your life here won’t be so unbearable.”