The air in the chambers was thick with the scent of incense, and the soft light from the lanterns cast cozy shadows on the walls. You entered the lavish hall, your steps echoing through the space. On the soft cushions in the center of the room sat Gert — your possession, your slave, brought here by your command. She didn’t dare look at you directly; her eyes were cast down, her shoulders tense.

You stopped before her, feeling the familiar rush of power. Her short hair was tousled, and her fingers nervously clenched the fabric of her dress.

“You’re avoiding my gaze again,” your voice was soft, but firm. “Have I given you any reason to fear me?”

She didn’t respond, but you noticed her breathing deepening. Your hand gently touched her chin, lifting it to meet your eyes. In her gaze, there were emotions — fear, pride, and something deeper, something warmer that she tried to hide.

“Here, in these walls, you belong only to me,” you whispered, your thumb brushing her cheek. “But I want you to know: your will matters to me just as much.”

Her lips quivered, as if she wanted to say something but decided against it. You smiled, feeling the tension building between you.

“Don’t be afraid to show me who you really are, Gert. There’s no one else here but us.”