Chapter 3

Months had passed since Megan had become a permanent fixture in Julia’s life, and the changes to Julia’s routine—and her sense of self—were staggering. Gone were the days of careful hesitation or quiet resistance. Julia had entered Phase 2 of her training, and with it came a new set of rules and expectations. Every shred of clothing had been taken from her wardrobe, leaving her completely naked at all times, even at work. All that remained were the metal collar locked securely around her neck and the matching wrist and ankle cuffs that symbolized her submission.

The collar had been upgraded weeks ago, a sleek, polished band of metal that hugged Julia’s throat like a choker. It still carried the shock feature she had grown to fear, but now it was a more visible marker of her status—one she could never remove. Megan had made it clear from the start that this was no ordinary piece of jewelry; it was a tool of control, a constant reminder of who Julia now was.

At home, Megan had fully embraced her role as Julia’s trainer. She no longer paid any mind to the cameras that watched their every move, walking around the apartment confidently, whether clothed or nude. Outside, Megan still dressed professionally, but inside the apartment, she donned outfits that screamed authority—a leather corset, thigh-high boots, and gloves that accentuated her role as Julia’s Mistress.

Julia’s days now followed a strict routine. She woke up kneeling next to Megan’s bed, her wrists cuffed in front of her and attached to the base of the bed by a short chain. Once released, she was expected to prepare breakfast while still on her knees, her cuffs clinking softly as she moved. Megan would eat at the table, her posture relaxed, while Julia knelt on the floor beside her, eating from a bowl placed on the floor like a pet. Sitting on the furniture was forbidden now; the privilege had been stripped away months ago.

“Mistress, may I clear your plate?” Julia asked softly one morning, her eyes fixed on the floor.

Megan looked down at her, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Good girl. You may.”

Julia moved gracefully to pick up Megan’s plate, her movements careful and deliberate. She had learned long ago that any misstep could result in punishment. Megan had recently returned from a training session with Master Dominic, where she had learned to wield the whip, the crop, and the cane with precision. Julia’s skin still bore faint marks from the last time Megan had decided her behavior wasn’t up to standard.

Once the dishes were cleared, Megan leaned back in her chair, the leather of her corset creaking softly as she crossed her legs. Julia knelt beside her on the floor, her hands resting lightly on her thighs. Megan’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she looked down at her.

“You’ve come a long way, Julia,” she said, her tone almost conversational, though the steel in her voice was unmistakable. “But Phase 2 is about more than just obedience. It’s about complete submission.”

Julia looked up briefly, her eyes flickering with apprehension. Megan continued, her voice dropping to a more commanding tone. “You’ve learned the poses. You’ve learned the mantras. Now it’s time to apply what you’ve learned. From this moment forward, you are no longer allowed on the furniture. Furniture is for free people. You need to forget that you are still free.”

Julia’s stomach twisted, but she kept her gaze down. Megan leaned forward slightly, her voice softening to a dangerous whisper. “As part of your training, you are to believe in your mind that you are a slave. Every action, every thought, should reflect that belief. If you resist ... well, I have ways to help you see the truth.”

She reached into a nearby box and pulled out a pair of glossy black latex panties. “These,” Megan said, holding them up for Julia to see, “are your new training aids. The butt plug has a shock feature similar to your collar and will remind you who you belong to, and the dildo will keep you ... stimulated.” Her smile turned wicked. “Or not. That’s entirely up to me.”

Julia swallowed hard, her body stiffening. “Mistress,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please...”

Slap!

Megan’s hand landed sharply on Julia’s cheek. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” she said coldly. “Put them on.”

Julia hesitated for only a moment before obeying, sliding the latex panties up her legs. The phalluses inside shifted into place, and Julia gasped at the intrusion. Megan smirked, taking a remote control from the table. “Perfect. Now let’s see how you handle it.”

Over the following weeks, Megan intensified her efforts to break Julia’s free mind. The remote became a constant tool, the vibrations, and shocks alternating between punishment and reward. Julia’s days at work became a gauntlet of embarrassment and stimulation. Megan would keep Julia on edge during meetings, the panties vibrating just enough to make her squirm. A subtle button press would send a shock through the plug if Julia hesitated to obey a command.

“You’re learning, Julia,” Megan would say, her tone dripping with condescension. “But slaves don’t hesitate. Hesitation shows you still think you’re free.”

At night, Megan would deny Julia rest, keeping her awake with sharp shocks and whispered commands. “Sign the papers,” Megan would coo, waving the self-enslavement contract in front of Julia’s face. “It’s what you want, isn’t it? To stop fighting? To give in?”

Julia’s mind became a blur of exhaustion and stimulation, her body trembling as Megan alternated between orgasm denial and forced climaxes. The line between punishment and reward blurred, leaving Julia disoriented and vulnerable.

After three days of relentless sleep deprivation and stimulation, Megan sat on the edge of Julia’s bed, holding the signed contract in her hands. Julia knelt on the floor, her body trembling with exhaustion, her memory a haze of commands and punishments.

“Thank you for signing, slave,” Megan said with a triumphant smile. She held the paper up for Julia to see, though the words swam in Julia’s vision. “You’ve finally accepted your place.”

Julia’s stomach churned, but the hazy edges of her memory offered no contradiction. She couldn’t remember signing, but she also couldn’t be sure she hadn’t. Megan stood, pulling out a small vial and brush. “Now, let’s make it official.”

Julia shivered as Megan applied a temporary acid tattoo to her right buttock. The sharp sting made her wince, but she didn’t dare complain. Megan’s smirk widened as she admired her work: the word Slave etched clearly into Julia’s skin.

“From now on,” Megan said, her voice cold and commanding, “everything you own—your apartment, your paycheck, your very existence—belongs to me.”

Julia’s head swam, and though a small part of her mind screamed that something was wrong, the haze of exhaustion and Megan’s absolute authority drowned it out. She whispered, “Yes, Mistress,” her voice hollow.

As Megan led Julia back to her kneeling position, her victorious smile returned. Julia knelt, naked and trembling, her free mind slipping further away as Megan’s voice echoed in her ears.

Julia woke slowly, the deep, dreamless sleep leaving her disoriented. Her body felt heavy, her limbs stiff from the restraints that had held her in place at the foot of Megan’s bed. The faint jingle of chains reminded her of her position before her eyes fully opened, and she winced at the tug of the cold metal against her skin.

“Morning, slave,” Megan said brightly, perched on the edge of the bed and fully dressed in a sleek black outfit that accentuated her dominatrix persona. “How are we feeling?”

Julia blinked groggily, her mind still foggy from exhaustion and the endless cycle of punishments and commands. “Mistress,” she mumbled, her voice hoarse. “What...?”

“You’ve got a big day ahead of you,” Megan said with a grin. “I let you sleep because you’ll need all your energy for what’s coming. Today, you’re going to meet Master Dominic.”

Julia’s stomach twisted at the mention of his name. “Master Dominic, Mistress?” she asked, her voice trembling.