The Love of My Chains

[sinfulwords]

Chapter 3

Kink warning: This chapter contains water sports, if you're adversed please skip the opening twelve paragraphs.

…My captivated eyes followed Jax as he came around the table and strutted out onto ‘the floor.’ He was carrying himself with an annoying amount of confidence for someone so puny and haggard; I couldn’t help but wonder why Master even invited him here in the first place. He’d said it was a reward for ‘high sales’ but that was hardly a reason for such a lofty honorarium in my opinion. Needless to say, however, I held my tongue and continued to bare witness as the undeserving walked into position, opened his zipper, and whipped out his rock hard cock right in front of The Red Slave’s wide-open mouth.

“You want this piss, baby?” He asked, releasing a long yellow stream that made a harsh gargling echo as it began collecting in the girl’s mouth. “Yeah you like that don’t you? Swallow it!” He ordered, and she did, her nose wrinkling as the young man then guided his cock upward, pissing along toward her forehead and back down her nose.

“Come piss on this bitch too,” Master Patsy commanded, using the tip of the cane to tickle The Blonde Slave’s clit as he ordered Jax about. “Come piss right on her greedy fuckin’ cunt.”

Jax obeyed at once, never ceasing in his urination as he took a single step to the side and guided his cock toward The Blonde Slave, letting his stream flow directly on her spread open pussy lips; yellow filth mixing with translucent slick.

The Blonde Slave cooed her approval, her back arching in what I could only imagine was monumental bliss. The delicate kiss of the cane must’ve been beyond disorienting to both flesh and mind as Master Patsy had a very precise hand: he knew exactly how to deliver both pain and pleasure (whatever he saw fit) with nothing more than a flick of the wrist. That pleasure combined with the humiliating ritual of being urinated on, well, this would be a cocktail of shame and elation that no sex-slave would ever have the hope to resist.

And I spoke from personal experience…

…Master had taken to pissing on me during our journey as one. More so when I was new to him and he was still breaking me in. In our world it was a common practice in slave/master culture, it was socially acceptable here, so, there were hundreds of instances where I would spread my legs and mewl my approval as Master pissed on my face and down my belly, his heavy stream always ending up at my pussy and offering the most delicate and satisfying pressure. It was one thing to be pissed on, it was another to be pissed on strategically until you loved it, pairing the shame of such a demeaning act with your own debased lust. Master had christened me entirely ‘His’ on the day he could make me cum by simply emptying his bladder onto my clit—and I came hard for my master that day, with my cunt soaked in his piss and a proud smile on my panting lips…

“...Jesus fucking christ, I can’t believe you bitches were trained in The Pits,” Master Patsy snarled contemptuously, breaking me out of my yellow reverie. “What do you say when a man pisses all over your filthy fucking holes?”

“Thank you, Sir!” The slaves cried in unison as Jax alternated his stream between The Red Slave’s face and The Blonde Slave’s slit.

“Don’t mention it ladies,” Jax chided with an arrogant grin before speaking to Mr. Hollow. “Tap in here, D,” he requested as the final dregs of his urine trickled out onto The Red Slave’s tongue. “I’m out.”

And as I watched Mr. Hollow whip out his nine-inch cock, the beautiful ebony appendage like a solid branch in it’s ultimate width, he began to urinate on The Blonde Slave’s clit. So much liquid spilled from such a large vessel and the girl moaned through the new overload of sensation, humping the air in celebration of such crude excess.

My pussy had been ‘excited’ ever since I’d pleasured Master with my mouth earlier that evening and my ‘excitement’ had only gotten worse since Master Patsy had arrived with his new toys. Each brutality and humiliating ritual witnessed or participated in had only stirred my arousal to desperate want. My body had been vexed into chaos by the vicarious shame. What I felt was a very particular brand of humiliation that was exclusive to being an owned and obedient fuck-slave, an intoxicating sort of shame that saturated every demeaning act foisted upon us; until abasement itself was the sole source of our craving. That shame had been tethered to my arousal ever since I was old enough to even know what arousal was. And, so, as I watched those two young slaves being pissed on, being humiliated, used, my conditioning had been activated and I became overwhelmed by the waves of desire that had grown all too ferocious inside me.

I then tugged on Master’s pant leg, making my eyes as sweet and pleading as I possibly could. “Master, if I’m super suuuuper careful to make sure nobody sees your pussy, can I please play with myself a little bit? Pretty please?” I asked as my heart tripled in speed, because deep down I knew my hope was destined for a horrific plummet into disappointment.

“Not now, Babydoll,” he rebuffed softly, fulfilling my prophecy. “Just relax and enjoy the show.”

I couldn't help but pout, my displeasure manifest in an immediate slump of my shoulders and a little frown tugging my lips. I turned my disappointed gaze back to the scene on the floor, an action with severe consequences because what met my eyes only made me all the more ravenous.

The Red Slave, soaked in piss, was sucking Jax’s cock, taking him all the way down until she was loudly retching over his length. Those wet guttural sounds of a choking slave rang out so proudly, like the noble crash of a storm tossed sea, while Jax’s groans of pleasure rose like resonant wind whipping through all the developing chaos. The yelps of The Blonde Slave also sweetened the air, the smile on her lips somehow so apparent in her shrill happy voice as Master Patsy continued to torment her pussy with the cane, alternating between tickling her clit and striking it hard.

Everything was so tantalizing: all clamped tits, desperate whores, hard-ons, and humiliation.

“How’s her mouth, Jax?” Master asked, sipping his drink as he watched the young man enjoy the decent-looking suck job, his soothing fingers still tracing irregular patterns at the back of my head and the nape of my neck.

“Fucking wet as fuck, Boss,” Jax assessed between low groans of approval. “Really, thanks for invitin’ me, man.”

“Well. You earned it,” Master commended blandly.

“You wanna feel wet?” Master Patsy interjected with a suggestive grin, bending over to grab The Blonde Slave by her hair and yank her up to her knees. “Get up—get your useless ass over here,” he commanded, dragging the slut toward Jax. “Kneel down in front of him—get down—that’s right, now share that cock with your sister,” he instructed, pressing the girl’s face into Jax’s crotch. “That’s it—good little fuck-holes.”

Another bucket of kerosene was thrown on the fire that was roaring inside my pussy as I watched the two slaves begin to worship Jax’s cock, their hands massaging his balls and caressing his thighs. Their tongues had essentially gone feral, the two wily pink muscles jousting over Jax’s cock as the two slaves battled each other for more access to his hot throbbing member. It was like they’d been reduced to animals, overrun by piercing desire, both women moaning wildly, their clamped tits brushing up against Jax’s thighs as they arched themselves into him, licking, and sucking, and shamelessly rubbing their faces all over every inch of his manhood.

“Fuck,” Master sighed under his breath, his legs parting ever so slightly as he leaned back into his chair.

I looked up at him but he didn’t return my gaze, his attention was fixed on Jax and the two slaves, jaw clenched and muscles tight. I swallowed hard through the pain of my own arousal before allowing my eyes to wonder down Master’s body, slowly, so I could admire every inch of him, my steaming gaze hungry enough to devour him whole. And when my eyes grazed over the large bulge between his legs a needful whimper departed my lips for I grieved how he wasn’t buried deep inside me at that very moment.

“...Don’t hog up all the fun now, gimme one of ‘em,” Mr.Hollow was saying to Jax as he maneuvered around the smaller man, an impatient hand snatching The Red Slave about the bicep and dragging her over to kneel in front of him, not wasting even a nanosecond before he was shoving the tip of his large cock past her lips.

Mr. Hollow’s massive cock, and all it’s magnificent girth, violated the young slave’s throat as she took him down, the colossal size immediately forcing her to gag in a desperate lurch. And yet Mr. Hollow was unforgiving. He only encouraged her plight as he began to buck his hips, harsh and deep, sending the blunt tip of his manhood to bludgeon the girl’s throat with every apathetic thrust of his hips.

“That’s a good girl, take it all the way down,” Mr. Hollow cooed, his reassuring words contradicted by coarse actions as he then took to swatting The Slave’s face while she choked, his cruel attention creating an obscenely sharp slapping sound that embellished all the slurping and choking noises already raking the air.

Jax and Mr. Hollow carried on like that for several minutes, each one fucking their respective slaves’ throats to their hearts content. They watched with immense satisfaction as their cocks would disappear behind lips stretched far too wide, their balls slapping against chins dripping with copious amounts of spit. The gagging sounds expelled from the slaves’ throats swelled as each man’s enthusiasm climbed, each sound wetter, more guttural, more desperate than the one before it…

“...Pace yourselves, now, gentleman, you don’t wanna cum too quickly,” Master Patsy advised as he walked toward the dining-table, shuffling to take the seat to Master’s left. “I want all their holes broken in tonight.”

“Well, we can check their mouths off the list at least,” Jax jeered breathlessly, his hand splayed out on the back of The Blonde Slave’s skull where he was holding her in in place, his long thin cock shoved so far down her throat she could no longer breathe.

“Hear that baby?” Mr. Hollow asked of The Red Slave. “Your master said all your holes get some cock tonight. Ain’t that somethin’ now?”

“Yah-ahhg, ah-ir,” The Slave chocked unintelligibly around Mr. Hollow’s cock, her pitiful attempts at speaking while sucking earning her a humiliating round of laughter from the small group of men.

“Stupid bitch,” Master Patsy snickered around an unlit cigarette that he’d just wedged between his lips, the man shaking his head derisively as he struck a match.

“That’s right, you’re a lucky little slut, ain’t cha?” Mr. Hollow went on rhetorically to The Red Slave before grabbing the girl’s collar to yank her from his cock. “Tell me what a lucky little slut you are,” he commanded as he pulled her to her feet.

“I’m such a lucky little slut, Sir, thank you,” The Red Slave recited perfectly, her words choppy and breathless from choking on such a large cock for such a long period of time.

And as The Red Slave came to stand before Mr. Hollow, he placed the webs of his thumbs beneath her large breasts and jostled them roughly, making the flesh sway and bounce. The Red Slave could only gasp in response, the sharp intake of air quickly devolving into a staccato moan as her back arched toward her tormenter and her lust roared anew.

I could so easily imagine the pleasurable pain The Red Slave must’ve been feeling, the premonition of sensation like a key that unlocked a deeper, more primal part of my own desire. With each flick of Mr. Hollow’s wrists, the slave’s breasts would bounce chaotically, transferring every micro-movement to her clamped nipples. The assaulting clothes pins hung from her nipples like precision instruments, the ridged jaws compressing the sensitive flesh into flattened dusky peaks that darkened toward violet at the centers. I knew all too well that the line between pleasure and pain had blurred into one, single, overwhelming force inside her. She was nothing but a vessel now, filled to the brim with the exquisite agony and profound ecstasy of Mr. Hollow’s touch.

Mr. Hollow then began to move his hands in slow encompassing circles, not pinching or pulling, but massaging the fuller weight of her, the soft tissue that spilled between his fingers like proofing dough in a baker's palm. The contrast arrested the eye, his mahogany-dark skin disappearing into the pale cream of hers, his knuckles rising like knots in dark timber against the flush that spread downward from her collarbone. He worked systematically, from the outer edges inward, never quite touching the clamped centers, letting the absence of direct stimulation build its own frequency between them.

“Got a nice pair on her that fire-crotch,” Master observed, his lust-filled eyes fixed on the focal point of Mr. Hollow’s attention.

“One thing we can agree on,” Master Patsy confirmed as he snuffed out his cigarette. “Her udders look nice.”

“Blondie’s are bigger,” Jax chimed in, still fucking the girl’s throat at a calm leisurely pace.

“Function versus functionality young buck, it’s not the size, it’s how you use em,” Mr. Hollow lectured as he continued to massage The Red Slave’s soft tits in a duplicitous display of tenderness, his mild fingers sinking into the yielding flesh before he abruptly demonstrated the full range of ‘functionality’ by delivering a stinging slap across The Red Slave’s left breast, and then her right.

The Red Slave, unprepared for such pain, cried out with hurt and surprise, a desperate sort of sob laced with a moan of pure pleasure. Her back arched and her knees quivered, her expression wincing beautifully as she craned back her head, eyes seeking refuge in the ceiling above.

Mr. Hollow smiled, a predatory curve of the lips. "You like that, don't you, baby?" He asked as he continued the cycle: slapping one breast and then the other. "You like it when I abuse these pretty whore-tits, hm?"

He didn't wait for an answer, he already knew, we all knew. We could see it in the way The Red Slave’s body responded, the way her muscles tensed, in the way her hips were beginning to rock in a silent pleading rhythm. He brought his hand down again, harder this time, the sound sharper, the impact more profound. A fresh wave of crimson bloomed across The Red Slave’s pale skin, a beautiful mark of Mr. Hollow’s uncompromising cruelty.

Jax had looked on in total captivation. “Functionality you say?” He asked in a trance, tone quite determined as he slipped his cock from The Blonde Slave’s mouth and began corralling the whore to her feet.

With anticipation radiating all around him, Jax smirked, eyeing The Blonde Slave like a salted slab of meat. He licked his lips, cranking back his hand before sending it flying across the girl’s breasts, one right after the other in one fell swoop. The Blonde Slave cringed with a whimper, panting erratically as her tits bounced and the clamps pulled on her sensitive nipples, but she didn’t cry out, not even a peep.

“Thank you, Sir,” The Blonde Slave cooed, voice weighted down by potent arousal.

“Well, well, well, look who can remember her manners,” Master Patsy celebrated from the table between puffs from his cigarette. “Guess you’re not completely useless afterall.”

“Yes, Master, thank you,” The Blonde Slave replied, her sentence punctuated by a yelp of pain as Jax smacked her across the tits again, even harder than the time before. “Fuh–th-thank you, Sir!” The girl wailed.

“No, thank you,” Jax jeered in return before sending yet another smack flying across her bouncing tits.

Jax and Mr. Hollow then began enthusiastically striking their slaves’ breasts in tandem, their erections bobbing in front of them as they moved, stepping back or turning at the waist to land their blows with varying strength and precision. Laughter boomed between the echoes of impacted skin, merriment just as deep as the scarlett patches that now adorned both slaves’ tits, pearly white skin now flushed and on fire, destined for black and blue. And over the long minutes passed a depraved competition had developed between the two men: whoever could hit their slut and get her to cry out the loudest was deemed the winner of any given round; Master and Master Patsy being the impartial judges of course…

“...It was Fire Crotch by a mile!” Master insisted. “My ears are still fuckin’ ringin’!” He concluded earnestly before tossing back a shot of moonshine.

“Are you deaf?” Master Patsy countered with a laugh. “Blondie was—

“Yes!” Master interrupted excitedly, nearly jumping up in his chair. “Because Fire Crotch over here ruptured my fuckin’ ear drums!”

Master Patsy sucked his teeth with a roll of the eyes. “Blondie nearly shattered the goddamn bottle!” He claimed, pointing to the glass bottle of moonshine on the table.

“Sadie can be the tie-breaker,” Mr. Hollow suggested, his eyes fixed on his own fingers as he repeatedly flicked the tips of The Red Slave’s nipples, each pang making the girl shiver and groan.

“Naw, no way,” Master Patsy declined. “She’s biased. She’d absolutely side with Tyler.” His eyes then sought me out where I was still kneeling at Master’s feet. “Isn’t that right, Sadie?”

“Master’s always right,” I replied, my tone sneaking into insolence as I made it all too clear I thought Master Patsy foolish for even implying I might ever consider Master capable of being wrong.

“I rest my case,” Master Patsy concluded, his gaze on me narrowing as he reached for his drink and turned his attention back to Master. “Gotta do something about that little attitude of hers,” he nearly pouted as he took an irritable sip from his cup.

“What attitude?” Master asked, his feigned ignorance sounding so genuine as he tapped me lightly on the head: a silent signal that he intended to rise from his chair. I quickly moved aside to give him space, turning on the spot to look up at him with reverence and heat, kneeling dutifully with my thighs spread and back arched, emphasizing just how eager I was to offer myself for his pleasure.

“You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about, T, ” Master Patsy snapped coldly. “Her bitchy little tone just then.”

“Hm. I didn’t notice any tone,” Master lied, grabbing my chin with a delicate grip and locking my eyes with a heavy gaze.

“See! I told ya! You treat her like a fuckin’ poodle!” Jax interjected from where he was standing beside The Blonde Slave, his arm now draped over her shoulder, his hand dangling down by her breast where his fingers absent-mindedly toyed with the clothespin clamped to her nipple.

“He don’t treat her like no goddamn poodle,” Mr. Hollow chuckled, his attention still fixed on The Red Slave as he cupped and massaged her breasts, kneading all the pain he’d delivered into tingling pleasure.

“He treats her like a goddamn wife,” Master Patsy corrected, the word ‘wife’ coming out like a rancid piece of meat that had revolted him to sickness.

A cool and confident stream of laughter whispered past Master’s lips, his eyes still never leaving my own as he spoke to Master Patsy. “I treat her how she treats me,” he then raised his calm gaze to his flustered friend while simultaneously releasing his grip on my chin. “Why’s that bother you so much?”

Master Patsy dragged his hand over his mouth in an irritable twitch of a gesture. “It’s not natural to treat a slave that way,” he elaborated rather stiffly. He was more uncomfortable than I’d ever seen him.

A heavy sigh blew through Master’s nose as he nodded pensively. As if he were considering the feedback quite seriously. “Well, would it make everyone feel better if me and Sadie joined in on all the shenanigans?” He asked, his gaze jumping from guest to guest as he spoke. “Do you think that might alleviate some of the tension, here? Highlight our roles properly for everyone in the fucking group?” His eyes then settled on Master Patsy. “Ya think that might rectify the situation, P?"

Master Patsy’s sour expression slowly softened into haughty approval. “It might,” he agreed, taking another sip from his cup.

“Good!” Master celebrated, clapping his hands together and rubbing his palms as he walked to the end of the dining table where my metal nipple clamps sat (we had real ones, none of that clothespin nonsense). “Stand up, Babydoll,” he commanded as he returned to where I stood at the other end of the table. “We gotta show these nay-sayers whats what…"

[VictimEyes]

Before all the males on this forum start scolding you for not knowing how difficult it is to urinate through a "rock hard" erection (end of the first paragraph), maybe you should consider editing that line.

- Other than that, once again you have succeeded in pulling me into and keeping me in this world you have created. I will, mentally, return to my place on the floor, on my knees at the feet of my master and await chapter 4 !!!!!!!

Keep up the good work!!!!!

[VictimEyes]

* Urinate with any real degree of accuracy, that is. *

[sinfulwords]

Before all the males on this forum start scolding you for not knowing how difficult it is to urinate through a "rock hard" erection (end of the first paragraph), maybe you should consider editing that line.

- Other than that, once again you have succeeded in pulling me into and keeping me in this world you have created. I will, mentally, return to my place on the floor, on my knees at the feet of my master and await chapter 4 !!!!!!!

Keep up the good work!!!!!

Oh I’m so happy you enjoyed it ^.^ thank u so much for reading and taking the time to share a your thoughts! Your reviews have been a pleasure to read

And oh man! I hope the guys won’t be too pedantic I’m just a girl I don’t know of all these penile woes

[RapeU]

It is actually possible to pee down with an erection if one were to force the penis to point down instead of up. It can be done while sitting on the toilet and aiming down inside. But that simultaneously makes it more difficult to pee and there's a point where the pressure is not enough to force the pee out but you still have some pee left.

Alternatively the easiest thing to do during an erection is to just pee in the bathtub or shower or willing/unwilling mouth.

[Vela Nanashi]

Scientist no not really, but I enjoy understanding how things work I try to feed my brain daily, it does not retain everything these days though.

On Earth as it currently orbits the sun, you would have heat increasing as one moves towards the equator from both sides But I think we who live in the north can forget that and just simplify it as hotter south, and forget that it turns around at the equator that is only natural.

Chapter 3:

Watersports/pee is not a kink I personally enjoy, but I do have a few characters of mine that do, it can be complicated to inhabit those when I write.

I think what makes this weirdest for me is Sadie's Master is letting them pee in his home and not inside say a bathroom or toilet, but right where he lives and eats and everything, that just fails to make sense to me, it will easily end up stinking up the whole place and all the things in it

Some hot cock sharing oral there for Jax, I do love to have my characters share a cock, kissing around it

The clamps will possibly hurt way more when taken off than just being there.

All the violence has kicked me out of the story some though, I think it is not really meant for me though, it is still well written that much I can tell.

Ah Sadie is going to get some relief from being just an observer, metal clamps can be pretty but also way more painful.

Also seems like Master might need to take out the Patsy.

---

Yeah men might have some issues aiming, and the pee tends to come out very high pressure, kind of like pinching a hose, and you know depending on the micro shape of the slit of the cock head that might result in all kinds of different sprays, and if there is a foreskin there that interacts with the stream too or not, it could act a bit like a shrouding nozzle that may give more control, or less, depending on skill of wielder. Also constriction does require some more pressure from bladder, and if a man has already got prostate issues maybe that can be harder to overcome for them.

---

Ok so we heard Patsy wants to break in all holes of his slaves, I was starting to wonder if it was taboo to use pussy and ass in this society, given it has been very oral fixated

[Claire]

@sinfulwords Another good chapter! I like how you are delaying Sadie's direct involvement so far. Teasing the reader, are we?

When Sadie was asked to play judge, I wondered whether she might disagree with her master, not because she actually disagreed, but to provoke him into some punishment after he denied her earlier request. But she sided with him without hesitation.

I expect for the next chapter that once Sadie becomes part of the action that the other men will start to even more insist that Tyler share Sadie with them. I wonder how big that tension will become.

[sinfulwords]

@Vela Nanashi

Well your knowledge base in science is certainly impressive I don’t know much about that stuff (evidently )

Water sports is definitely not for everyone ^.^ I really like the degradation aspect involved in the act tho.

It’s funny u should mention the pee-pee mess. The story is already complete and I may or may not touch on the subject of a clean up crew later on

Yes, clamps generally do hurt more when they’re removed don’t ask me how I know that

If the violence isn’t for you, no hay pedo miga different strokes for different folks

Metal clamps are better Sadie is a lucky girl and she’ll definitely get SOME kind of attention in the upcoming chapters…although it might not be as predictable as one might think

Master has diplomatic ties with the scoundrel Patsy harming him would harm his colony. ain’t politics a bitch?

Oh no, it’s not taboo at all! The story is simply detailing one night, so, I didn’t wanna rush into the intercourse. Think of all the oral and breast play like riding up the steep hill on a rollercoaster but once the car teeters over the edge it’s gonna be thrilling af!

Thank u again for reading even tho the flavor of the story isn’t so much your jam! And a double thank u, of course, for telling me all your thoughts ^.^ I’m so grateful for the engagement and feedback

[sinfulwords]

Thank you @Claire I’m so glad you enjoyed it! And u caught me I might be doing just a wee bit of teasing.

That would’ve been an interesting way to do things she is a smart girl after all despite her station, so it’s not too farfetched to think her capable of that sort of manipulation. However it would be a cold day in hell when she’d side with Patsy over her beloved master

I’m so grateful for u reading and taking the time to tell me some of ur thoughts! I hope u continue to enjoy as the rest of the tale unfolds

[Claire]

@sinfulwords I was thinking a bit about your story and what I find interesting about it. And I would like to ask you something. But the question might skew a little personal and get us into more of a meta discussion around the story. So if what I'm asking is too personal, please say so!

I was wondering what the appeal of the story is to you or why you write this kind of story in general? Because I'm noticing something in the story that I wouldn't expect if somebody pitched the story to me as a dystopian master-slave rape fantasy story.

I for example write rape fantasy because I like the tension between finding a story arousing and finding what's happening morally repulsive. That is why I write stories that try to create an uncomfortsble sense of immersion by leaning into physical and psychological realism instead of over the top sex/rape fantasy tropes.

For someone like @Vela Nanashi writing is motivated by the opposite, pure escapism.

What I find fascinating in your story is that the master slave dynamic at the core is not what I would expect by default. Many rape fantasy authors, maybe more so male than female ones, write this kind of dynamic as the absolute power fantasy and lean fully into that to the point where to me the storiee often feel so cartoonishly over the top that it breaks my immersion.

On some level, your story seems to be leaning into a lot of tropes of the genre. But on a deeper level, there is this theme of trust underlying the story that I find interesting. Rather than giving us a simple "master does whatever he wants with his slave" story, you center a master/slave relationship that is defined by a bond that feels intimate and seems rooted in trust, as twisted as that bond and trust may be by normal standards.

So what I'm curious about is this: Is what you are interested at its core a relationship dynamic where one side holds literally all the power but there is a bond that results in that power not being abused, or let's say, being constrained? Because to me, that seems to be the unique nature of your story that makes it stand out. If we just got a story about a slave girl with a cruel, sadistic master who hands her around and abuses her without limit, then your story would maybe be nicely written, but ultimately be just one among many that deliver the exact same sadist power fantasy.

Again, if going into your motivations/intentions behind the story like this is too personal, please say so. I just got curious thinking about that recurring theme of trust between master and slave in your story.