“I told you to finish your task by midnight,” she began, her voice low and dangerous. “Yet here we are, and you’re still groveling, begging for my forgiveness.“

He swallowed hard, the weight of her words sending a shiver down his spine. “I… I tried, Mistress, but—“

“But what?” she interrupted, her voice tightening. “Excuses? Is that what you think I want to hear?” The silence on the other end of the line was suffocating, each second heavier than the last. “Do you have any idea how laughable you sound right now?” Ayane’s voice turned mocking, cold amusement dancing just beneath her words. “You disobeyed me. Now you’ll have to pay for that.“

He felt a surge of both fear and desire. The power in her voice held him captive, and the sharpness of her words made him ache with submission. “Please, Mistress, I’ll make it up to you. Tell me what you want.“

A soft, cruel laugh escaped her lips. “Oh, you will make it up to me… but not how you think.” Her tone dropped, slow and deliberate, each word dripping with dark intent. “You’ll stay exactly where you are, on your knees. I want you to picture me—everything you’ve failed to serve—because for the rest of the night, that’s all you’ll have. My voice. My control.“

“Yes, Mistress,” he whispered, breath hitching as the humiliation settled deep within him.

“Good boy,” she purred, satisfaction seeping through her voice. “Now, beg for the punishment you deserve.“