The afternoon had slipped into a warm, golden evening by the time Lord Vikram returned to Ananya’s chamber. The palace lamps had just been lit, casting a soft amber glow across the marble floors and silk-draped walls. Ananya had been allowed a proper bath earlier, but her maids had followed strict orders: only the lightest herbal oils, no clothing except the ever present golden collar and leash, and her long hair left loose and scented. She now rested on fresh sheets, still completely naked, the ruby-studded chain resting between her heavy breasts. Her body carried the lingering marks of the long silk-bound morning, faint pink lines on her wrists and ankles, her breasts still tender and full, her tiny innie slightly puffy and sensitive from repeated stretching.

The moment the heavy door opened, Lord Vikram stepped inside and gave the golden leash a firm, possessive tug, pulling her upright onto her knees in the center of the large bed.