The sound of the metallic click filled the room as the collar closed around the slave's neck. It wasn't the first time he wore it, but each time he felt its weight, something inside him surrendered. He was on his knees, naked, muscular, his sweaty torso glistening under the dim light of the playroom. The muscles on his back tensed with each controlled breath. He was young, strong, raised among gym irons... and now, completely submissive.

In front of him, the Master observed him in silence. Tall, imposing, dressed in a tight black shirt and leather pants, he exuded control. His eyes scanned the slave as if evaluating a work that was solely his. And it was.

—Who are you? —the Master asked, with a firm voice.

—Your dog, your object, your body —he replied without hesitation, lowering his head even further.

A slight smile curved the Master's lips. He took a step forward and with one finger lifted the bodybuilder's chin. He looked into his eyes, deep, open, shining with anticipation.

—Good answer —he said, while his free hand slowly caressed the slave's chest, the marked abdominals, stopping just above the pubic area—. Today we're going to go further.

The slave didn't respond. He knew he shouldn't speak without permission. His skin prickled as he felt the Master putting thick leather handcuffs on his wrists. Then he guided him to the center of the room, where a chain hung from the ceiling.

With efficiency and calm, the Master attached the handcuffs to the chain and tensed it. The slave's arms rose above his head, leaving his body completely exposed. The young man barely moaned, but not from pain. His erection was a clear sign of his desire.

—Your body belongs to me —the Master whispered in the slave's ear—. And today I'll shape it my way.

He took a short whip, made of braided leather, and without warning, he unleashed it with precision on the slave's shoulders. The slave gasped, his muscles tensed, but he didn't complain. He knew that pain was part of the game, and that behind each blow was a caress that had yet to come.

The rhythm continued, alternating blows with soft touches, unexpected kisses on the neck or back. The slave was trembling, not from fear, but from the mix of pleasure, pain, and adoration. His mind emptied. Only the present, the Master, and his own desire to obey existed.

When the whip fell for the last time, the Master approached, placed a firm hand on the slave's chest, and said in his ear:

—This is just the beginning.