The moment Ema's uniform hit the floor, my breath caught in my throat. Her body was a masterpiece of sensual artistry—every curve, every piercing designed to drive me wild. Her tits heaved with each ragged breath, the silver hoops through her nipples glinting as they hardened under my gaze. My fingers itched to touch them, to twist them, to hear her gasp.
But it was the barbell in her navel that first drew my attention, the way it shifted with her trembling breaths. Then lower—oh fuck—the tiny clit ring, winking at me like a dare from between her spread thighs.
I dropped to my knees before her, my hands gripping her hips as I pulled her closer. "When did you get these?" I growled, my thumb brushing against the cold metal of her clit ring. Ema's entire body jerked, a sharp, needy whimper tearing from her throat.
"N-Never, Master," she gasped, her fingers tangling in my hair. "I was born with them. You—ah!—you made me this way."
