"Oh, the submissive slave!" she says, turning to face you between shudders of pleasure.

"The slave?" you ask. "But what happened to the strong woman from before?"

"That was all an act!" she cries out in desperation. "I've always been a submissive woman, looking for someone to tell me what to do. But I didn't know who I could trust. I had to protect myself."

"Well then... If you've always been a slave, then who is your then?"

"I don't have a ," she says, almost breaking down in tears. "Wait! Would you be my ? Oh please!?!"

"I don't know," you say, pretending to consider the offer. "You were lying before, how can I trust you now? What could you possibly do for me as my slave?"

"I swear I will serve you faithfully and truthfully. Please! Ask anything of me and I will do it! I would live to serve you, to be anything you wanted me to be. Your guard, your slave, your slut, your plaything. I am whatever you want me to be! Please, I can not be a slave without a !" she cries. It almost makes you feel sorry for her. Almost.

"Fine then, Slave, come and plasure your ," you say forcefully.