As I stepped into the grand hall of my opulent mansion, I was followed by the soft click-clack of high heels on the marble floor. My mind was already preoccupied with the image of my helpless slave, bound tightly to the massive dining room table, awaiting my arrival.
My heart raced with anticipation as I reached the closed door to the dining room. With a commanding flourish, I swept it open, revealing the tableau before me.
There she was — my loyal servant — her plump body completely exposed, her voluptuous breasts heaving with anticipation as she struggled against her tight bonds. Her mouth was open wide, drooling saliva pooling at the corners as she awaited my command.
I took a step forward, my gaze roaming appreciatively over her supple form before settling on her face. Her eyes met mine, full of fear and desire mixed together in a heady brew that I found irresistible.
"Are you ready for your treat?" I purred softly, leaning in close enough to feel the warm breath against her clammy skin. Her eyes widened even further in response, her nostrils flaring as she struggled for air.
"Feast time is here," I said with a grin, moving around to the far end of the table where an array of incredible delicacies awaited us. There were roasted meats piled high on platters, steaming vegetables arranged artfully in bowls, and mountains of fine pasta and rice.
My slave watched, transfixed, as I began to heap massive portions onto my plate. The scent of the food was intoxicating, and I could already feel my stomach rumble with hunger. But I took my time, savoring the anticipation of what was to come.
Finally, I took the first bite, closing my eyes as the flavors exploded on my tongue. It was perfection — tender, succulent meat melting in my mouth, accompanied by the perfect balance of spices and sauces.
It was then that I turned my attention back to my slave, still sitting bound on the table. With a cruel laugh, I reached out and grasped her chin firmly in my hand, forcing her to look up at me.
"Open wide," I commanded, my voice a low rumble in the silent room. Slowly, obediently, she opened her mouth as wide as she could, her eyes locked onto mine, pleading for mercy.
And then, I did it — I placed a sopping piece of cooked pasta directly into her mouth, watching as she struggled to swallow it down. It was huge, bigger than anything she'd ever attempted to swallow before. But she managed it, tears streaming down her face as she gagged and choked on the slippery mound.
I repeated this process over and over again, feeding her huge portions of each dish on the table. Her mouth was stretched to its limits, her cheeks bulging with food as she struggled to keep up.
Finally, when I judged that she could take no more, I stepped back, laughing cruelly as she dropped her head forward onto the table, exhausted and whimpering.
"Sleep well, my little slave," I whispered softly, turning away and leaving the dining room behind. Tomorrow, the cycle would begin again.
