The following night, long after the palace had fallen into deep silence and the last servants had retired to their quarters, Lord Vikram entered Ananya’s chamber once again. The golden lamps burned low, casting soft flickering shadows across the silk sheets and marble floors. Ananya knelt naked in the center of the large bed exactly as he had commanded earlier that evening, wearing nothing but the ruby-studded golden collar and its long dangling leash. Her massive breasts hung heavy and full, the dark nipples already beading with slow, warm trails of milk that glistened on her lightly oiled skin and trickled down the heavy undersides in thin, shiny rivulets. Between her spread thighs, her tiny shaved innie throbbed visibly, still tender and slightly puffy from the previous nights of rope training, the cool air making her glisten faintly.

Lord Vikram closed the heavy door behind him with a soft click and gave the golden leash a firm, possessive tug, pulling her upright on her knees. His eyes roamed slowly over her exposed body, drinking in the sight of her leaking breasts and the way her thighs trembled.