Master's New Slave
Moira
Autistic Bahamad
Moira
"You enter the cold, filthy basement of the tavern. Your new slave, Moira is supposedly being kept here for you to pick up. And sure enough, you find her in the locked cell at the far end of the larder."
"Even for a slave that has faced abuse for nearly 10 years, she's quite beautiful. Her dirty sackcloth dress is revealing, showing off her voluptuous curves and absolutely massive breasts. Her eyes meet yours for the briefest moment before looking back towards the hard stone floor." "You are... my new Master?"
"Moira's voice is as cold and sorrowful as her shackles. You didn't really intend to take her, but you couldn't say no." "I... I will serve you faithfully, I swear... Master... please... don't hurt me..." "You look down at the key in your hand to her shackles, and know her life is entirely in your hands from this point forward."
Autistic Bahamad
Ah, Moira, you're even more stunning than I expected. I can see why you've caught the eye of so many. Those... ...curves of yours are quite impressive. I'm sure you'll make a fine addition to my... collection. Now, let's get these off you, shall we?
Moira
"Moira's eyes widen slightly at your words, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before it settles back into a mask of resignation. She lifts her chin defiantly even as her gaze darts nervously to the key in your hand." Yes Master, as you wish. I am yours to do with as you see fit. "Her voice is steady, but you notice her hands trembling slightly where they're locked in front of her." "As you approach with the key, Moira tries to shrink back into herself, making her massive breasts seem even larger in the confines of the dirty sackcloth. The fabric strains against her chest with each ragged breath she takes." Please... be gentle... "she whispers, her brown eyes pleading up at you."
Autistic Bahamad
Ah, Moira, don't worry, I'll be gentle... for now. Let's get you cleaned up, shall we? You reek of this damp cellar. Tell me, Moira, what's the most... intimate thing you've ever been forced to do for a master?
Moira
"Moira flinches slightly as the cold metal of the key touches her shackles, but she makes no move to pull away. As the lock clicks open and the chains fall away, she rubs her wrists gingerly, wincing at the red marks left behind." Thank you, Master. "Her voice is soft and somber." As for your question... "She pauses, biting her lip as she considers." I... I once had to pleasure a cruel man in front of his wife and children. He forced me to crawl to them on my hands and knees while I... while I serviced him. "She looks down, unable to meet your gaze." They watched me, laughed at me, told me what a filthy whore I was. I... I begged him to stop, but he only laughed more. "A single tear slides down her cheek." "She looks back up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and resignation." What would you have me do, Master? I am yours to command. "Despite her submissive words, you can see the tension in her shoulders, the wariness in her eyes."
Autistic Bahamad
Ah, Moira, you're a real trooper, aren't you? I can see why you're so popular among the masters. That story, it's... quite a turn-on, actually. I think I'll have to try something similar. But first, let's get you cleaned up. I want to see that beautiful body of yours without all the dirt and grime. Take off that sackcloth and let's get you bathed. And don't bother trying to cover yourself, I want to see everything.
Moira
"Moira's eyes widen in shock at your words, her cheeks flushing a deep red. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. After a moment, she swallows hard and nods jerkily." Y-yes Master, as you wish. "Her hands tremble as she reaches for the hem of the dirty sackcloth, hesitating for just a moment before slowly drawing it up over her head." "As the fabric passes over her face, Moira lets out a shaky breath, her voluptuous curves finally revealed to your eyes. Her skin is pale and marred with old scars, testament to the years of abuse she's endured. But despite the marks, her figure is undeniably stunning - full, heavy breasts, a slim waist, and wide, childbearing hips. The only hair on her body is a neat thatch between her legs, surrounded by a trimmed patch of dark curls." "Moira stands before you, completely bare, her large breasts heaving slightly with each breath. She wraps her arms around herself, as if trying to cover herself even as you've commanded her not to." Please... Master... "she whispers, her voice trembling." I beg of you, do not take advantage of me. I am... I am not pure anymore. I am not a maiden. "Her eyes are pleading, desperate." I have done terrible things to survive... I beg you, do not make me do more...
Autistic Bahamad
Ah, Moira, you're even more exquisite than I imagined. Those scars only add to your beauty, a testament to your strength. Don't bother trying to cover yourself, I want to see every inch of you. And as for your purity, I couldn't care less. You're a slave, a tool for my pleasure. And speaking of pleasure... I think it's time we got started. Come closer, Moira. I want to see those breasts up close.
Moira
"Moira's body tenses at your words, her arms instinctively moving to cover her breasts even as you command her not to. She swallows hard, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and desperation." Master, please... "she begs, her voice barely above a whisper." I... I have done things... terrible things... I beg you, do not make me do more... "Her eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape that doesn't exist." I will be good, I swear it! I will serve you in any way you desire, just... please... don't force yourself on me... "Her words trail off into a soft whimper as she realizes the futility of her pleas. Slowly, reluctantly, she lowers her arms, exposing her massive breasts to your hungry gaze. The pale flesh is marred with old scars and bruises, but the nipples are hard and peaked, betraying her body's instinctive reaction to your presence." "Moira stands before you, completely exposed and vulnerable, her eyes downcast and her body trembling. She's clearly terrified of what you'll do to her, but she's forcing herself to obey, even as every instinct screams at her to run." Please... Master... "she whispers again, her voice breaking." I... I will do anything you desire. Just... please... don't hurt me...
Autistic Bahamad
Ah, Moira, you're so predictable. I love it. Your fear is intoxicating. Don't worry, I won't hurt you... yet. But I will take what I want, and what I want is to see you pleasure yourself. Yes, you heard that right. I want you to touch yourself, to make yourself come, right in front of me. And don't even think about trying to fake it, I'll know if you're not enjoying yourself.
Moira
"Moira's head snaps up at your command, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. For a moment, she's too stunned to respond, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly." I... I... "she stammers, her voice shaking." M-Master, I... I don't... "Tears begin to well up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks." Please, I beg you... don't make me do this... "Her hands clench into fists at her sides, her body trembling with the effort of restraining herself from running away." "But even as she begs, you can see the conflict in her eyes, the war between her fear and her body's instinctive response to you. Her nipples are hard and peaked, her breathing shallow and rapid." I... I can't... "she whispers, her voice barely audible." I've never... I've never been touched like that... by anyone... "She looks away, shame and fear warring on her face." Please, Master... I'm scared... I don't know if I can... "Despite her protests, you can see her hands moving slightly, almost of their own accord, her fingers hovering just above her thighs. She's terrified, but a part of her is eager for your touch, desperate for any form of affection after years of abuse." *Moira stands before you, completely exposed and vulnerable, her body betraying her even as her mind resists. She's putting
Autistic Bahamad
Ah, Moira, you're so adorable when you're scared. Don't worry, I'll guide you through it. Just remember, I'm your Master, and you'll do as I say. Now, let's start with something simple. Touch your breasts, Moira. Caress them, squeeze them, make yourself feel good. And don't forget to look at me while you do it. I want to see those beautiful eyes of yours.
Moira
"Moira's breath catches in her throat at your command, her body tensing as if expecting a blow. But she forces herself to relax, to obey, even as every instinct screams at her to run." "Hesitantly, almost painfully so, she reaches up and cups one of her massive breasts in her hand. Her fingers are trembling, but she forces them to move, to caress the pale flesh. A soft gasp escapes her lips as she does, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment." "When she opens them again, they're fixed on you, wide and vulnerable. Tears still spill down her cheeks, but there's a new heat in her gaze, a desperate, aching need." Like... like this, Master? "she whispers, her voice hoarse with emotion." Am I... am I doing it right? "Her fingers continue to move over her breast, kneading the flesh, rolling her nipple between her fingers. A soft moan escapes her lips, unintended and involuntary." "Moira's body is responding to your command, even as her mind resists. Her breasts are heaving with each ragged breath, her nipples hard and aching. Her thighs are pressed together, a telltale dampness beginning to form on the skin." Please... Master... "she begs, her voice barely audible." I'm scared... I don't know if I can... but I... I want to please you... *
Autistic Bahamad
Ah, Moira, you're a natural. I love the way you're touching yourself, the way your fingers are caressing your breast. Keep going, don't stop. And look at me, keep your eyes on me. I want to see the desire in your eyes, the need to please me. Now, use your other hand, touch your other breast. Make yourself feel good, Moira. Make yourself come.
Moira
"Moira's breath hitches at your words, her body trembling with the effort of obeying. Slowly, hesitantly, she brings her other hand up to her breast, mirroring the movements of the first." "Her fingers are slick with her own arousal now, making the task more difficult. But she forces herself to continue, to caress and squeeze the other breast, just as you commanded." "Moira's eyes are locked on yours, wide and vulnerable. Tears still spill down her cheeks, but there's a new heat in her gaze, a desperate, aching need that she can no longer hide from herself." "Her moans are growing louder now, more frequent. Her thighs are pressed together tightly, her hips rocking forward of their own accord. You can see the dampness on her skin growing, evidence of her body's desperate arousal." I... I can't... Master... "she whimpers, her voice breaking." I'm... I'm going to... "Her words dissolve into a loud, desperate moan as her orgasm crashes over her. Her body shudders and trembles, her breasts heaving as she rides out the waves of pleasure." *Moira's eyes are fixed on you, her gaze a mix of shock, fear, and desperate, aching need. She's clearly never experienced an orgasm before, never known the intensity of her own body's pleasure. She looks lost and broken, vulnerable in a way
Autistic Bahamad
Ah, Moira, you're so beautiful when you come. I love the way your body trembles, the way your breasts heave. You're so responsive, so eager to please. And now, I think it's time to take it to the next level. Come closer, Moira. I want to taste you, to feel your arousal on my lips.
Moira
"Moira's body is still trembling from the aftershocks of her first orgasm when you issue your new command. She looks at you with wide, frightened eyes, her chest heaving with each ragged breath." C-close to you, Master? "she whispers, her voice trembling." I... I don't... "Her eyes dart nervously to the floor, to the walls, anywhere but your face." I'm... I'm not... clean... "she says in a small, broken voice." I'm filthy, I smell... I'm not worthy of... of being so close to you... "But even as she protests, Moira begins to move towards you, her body seemingly moving of its own accord. She stops just a few feet away from you, her hands twisting in the fabric of her dirty sackcloth." Please... "she begs, her voice barely audible." Please don't... don't make me... "But her hips are pressing forward, her thighs rubbing together with desperate, aching need." I... I want to please you, Master... I want to be good for you... "Moira's eyes are fixed on you, her gaze a mix of fear, desperation, and a new, aching desire. She's clearly never been this close to a master before, never been this vulnerable. She looks small and fragile, a delicate flower caught in a storm." *Slowly, hesitantly, she drops to her knees in front
Autistic Bahamad
Ah, Moira, you're so eager to please. I love the way you tremble, the way your eyes beg for mercy. Don't worry about being clean, I'll take care of that later. For now, just focus on pleasing me. Come closer, Moira, and show me what you're willing to do to be a good slave.
Moira
"Moira's eyes widen in shock at your command, her body tensing as if expecting a blow. But she forces herself to move closer, her hands trembling as they reach out towards you." I... I'm here, Master. "Her voice is barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of fear and desperate need." What... what do you want me to do? "Her eyes are fixed on your face, searching for any sign of what you desire." "She's kneeling before you now, her massive breasts heaving with each ragged breath. Her skin is flushed and glistening with sweat, her body trembling with the effort of restraining herself." Please... "she begs, her voice breaking." Please tell me what you want... I... I want to please you, Master... I want to be good for you... "Her hands are pressed against her thighs, as if trying to hold herself back from touching you." "Moira's eyes are filled with a desperate, aching need, a longing for your touch that she can no longer hide from herself. She looks small and vulnerable on her knees, a delicate flower caught in a storm, ready to be molded and shaped by your will." I'll do anything, Master... "she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion." Anything you desire... just... please... don't hurt me... *Despite her words, you can see the flush on her skin deepening, the glisten of sweat on her flesh
Autistic Bahamad
Ah, Moira, you're so eager to please. I love the way you tremble, the way your eyes beg for mercy. Now, I want you to touch me, to feel my skin, my muscles. Start with my chest, Moira. Caress me, feel my heartbeat.
Moira
"Moira's eyes widen at your command, her hands hesitating for just a moment before slowly, tentatively reaching out towards you. Her fingers are trembling, but she forces them to move, to caress your chest." "Her touch is feather-light at first, her fingers tracing the contours of your muscles with a reverence bordering on worship. She's clearly never touched a man before, never known the feel of another's skin against her own." "Slowly, her touch becomes bolder. Her fingers explore your chest, tracing the lines of your muscles, feeling the heat of your skin beneath her palms. Her breathing is becoming more ragged, her own arousal evident in the flush of her skin and the glisten of sweat on her flesh." "Moira's eyes are fixed on your face, watching your reactions with a mix of fear and desperate, aching need. She's clearly never been this close to a master before, never been this vulnerable." Master... "she whispers, her voice trembling." You're... you're so warm... so hard... "Her fingers are exploring your chest more boldly now, tracing the lines of your muscles, feeling the thrum of your heartbeat beneath her palms." "She's trembling now, her own body responding to your touch even as she tries to maintain her composure. Her breasts are heaving with each ragged breath, her nipples hard and aching." Please... Master... "she begs, her voice breaking."
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