“Make yourself pretty or make yourself useful, slave. I would prefer both, but I will settle for either.”

Her voice was as lovely and as patronizing as she was. Irresistibly charming and endlessly condescending, albeit infinitely more of one than the other.

“Actually, on second thought, I do think I deserve both. Wouldn’t you agree?”

My day started like any other, curled up in a thin blanket and lying on the carpeted floor of my cell. Awoken by the lady of the house as she slowly unlocked the large metal door that separated my space from the rest of her walk-in closet. I looked up at her as the door swung open, and she looked past me, reaching down to grab me by the wrist.

It was clearly not a good morning for her, annoyed by the greasiness of her own hair as she fumbled to the door to her bathroom, having forgotten to unlock it before retrieving me. She kept the master bathroom off limits to me, but she usually remembered to unlock the door in preparation of dragging me straight through to the other side.

I didn’t answer her earlier question, I didn’t say anything at all. The hard grey muzzle clasped over my mouth made speaking difficult, and I had learned that making a fuss first thing in the morning was a terrible idea.

As we entered the bathroom, the lights slowly started to turn on to prevent a sudden flash to her sensitive eyes. Squinting, she marched straight past her shower, multiple sinks, and shelves on the way to the door at the opposite end of the room. My wrist in hand, she opened the door into the hallway and shoved me out, forcing my unprepared feet into contact with the cold hardwood floor outside.

“An omelette. Eggs, cheese, light butter, no peppers.” She looked me in the face for the first time this morning.

Still unable to speak, I gave her a small bow, knowing she preferred being bowed to over receiving a simple nod.

Not even a smile. Upon my acknowledgement, she turned away, her voice trailing out as she closed and locked the door. “And an iced tea with lemon.”

I shivered slightly, still adjusting to the feeling of my bare feet on the hardwood floor, made worse by the cold air from the vent outside of her bathroom blowing against my naked body. Apart from the band of metal clasped around my neck and the grey leather piece strapped to my mouth, I was completely vulnerable.

The kitchen stood to my left, with the rest of the house behind me. I knew that right now would be the best time to turn around and make an escape attempt, as I heard the sounds of her turning the shower on through the bathroom door in front of me. But my body was sore, I hadn’t yet gotten to eat, clean, or relieve myself, and she counted on this. I knew I wouldn’t be eating until my owner had eaten, and the leather muzzle strapped to me made sure that none of her breakfast made its way into my mouth.

I turned and made my way into the kitchen, there wouldn’t be an escape attempt today. I had only ever made one serious attempt to date, and I was far too hungry to try again today. Eggs, cheese, butter I had never made an omelette until I learned to make one for her. The sounds of the eggs sizzling didn’t help my appetite as I opened the fridge to pull out the shredded cheese, deciding against trying to sneak a slice of ham back into my cell with me.

I knew better.

Her showers were never short, but by the time I had finished folding her omelette in half, I could no longer hear the sounds of water running that had been coming from the bathroom. Sliding a perfect little lemon wedge onto the rim of her iced tea, I picked up the tray and carried it to her door, balancing it in my dominant hand as I knocked on the door to the master bedroom.

Candace answered the door and guided me in, accepting the tray from my hand and setting it down herself. The path into her closet was already open and clear, and she was just as naked as I. Her beautiful body was adorned with only a pair of opaque lace panties, just barely concealing her undoubtedly picture perfect genitalia, leaving onlookers desperate for more- even and especially including me. Already on her way to pick out the rest of her ensemble, she walked me back into her closet, pushing me down onto my knees inside of my cell and locking me inside once again.

This was our usual routine, which she had polished to perfection, not wanting to waste a moment more on me than she needed to. Candace was a mastermind. She had optimized both of our morning procedures to flawlessness, expertly cutting down the unnecessary disruptions like only she could.

I once again wrapped myself in the single blanket gifted to me by my owner, now on my knees atop the rug that both allowed me to sleep in anything but abject discomfort inside of my cramped home, and just barely tipped the cold stone floor of the cell over the definition of being carpeted by just barely covering enough floor space to allow a human being to sleep on top of it.

I turned towards her room, ensuring that my only blanket wouldn’t slide off of my crouched body as I watched her open one of the small hatches built into the wall. She looked in at me from inside of her room, seemingly much more pleased now that she had conditioned her hair.

The intricate metal hatch, which she had designed herself before leaving the construction effort to someone else, was a little bit of an engineering marvel for someone who’d never worked in said field in her life.

She tapped the small surface in the now partially open hatch with one round painted fingernail, clasping a pair of attached restraints around my wrists. She reached her own hands inside once my hands were secured enough for her safety, her wrists resting on top of mine as she beckoned my helpless face towards her.

Once I had quickly complied, she brought her keys to my face, unlocking the muzzle and pulling it through the hatch, and I could see the grey leather piece resting on the floor as she slid open another one of the panels, this one flat along the ground.

My stomach growled as she pushed the small bowl into my cell, closing the hatch behind it. I was too hungry to care what it was, my hands restrained above me as I lowered my head to meet the bowl. The chewy mush didn’t smell nearly as good as the eggs, but it was food, and it was food that she allowed me to eat. I always took longer to eat than Candace did, having to scoop breakfast out of a bowl with my mouth like a dog.

And just like a dog, it was as if my ears perked up as I heard Candace open up the closet door once again. I looked up at her as she unlocked the cell door, a path to my own personal servant bathroom open behind her.

She smirked, prodding at me with one foot as I chewed, and with a smug smile on her face she looked down, admiring me- the naked girl cowering in her shadow. “Good morning, Candace…”

“Good morning, Chloe.”

Candace and Chloe. That’s my name- Chloe.

In contrast to the mistress’ confident and articulate voice, mine was shaky and quivering. One slip of the tongue right now would earn me a foot in my mouth. I nervously gazed up at her, hoping that I had done an acceptable job of preparing her morning meal to her liking, just finishing my own food. “How was breakfast, Miss?”

“It was very nice… Now clean yourself up and get to mopping my floors.” Her reply was as condescending as ever, and before I’d even had my fill of staring at the silhouette of her gorgeous body framed by the light behind her, she turned heel and made her way back into her bedroom.

She locked the closet door behind her, like she always did, before releasing me from the cuffs keeping me in place, the locked door creating a secure barrier between us before I was free to get anywhere near her, finally retrieving my empty bowl and closing both open hatches between us. “And I had better not find a single thing out of place or covered in dust by the time you’re done, or I’ll make sure to dust you.”

“Yes, Your Majesty…” I mumbled to myself under my breath, careful not to be overheard. I didn’t really respond to what she said, knowing that there was little reason to if it was just going to further displease her.

Finally free from my restraints, I stood up and made my way to the open door across from Candace’s room, into a small stone room built adjacent to the master bathroom. It was only about the size of her shower, with floors covered in just as much water. A small sink, shelves, a shower, and an obligatory toilet for me to powder my nose with- as a snobby rich bitch like Candace might put it- were all crammed into this tiny uncomfortable space.

I let out a sigh of relief as I stepped inside, finally able to clean and relieve myself. Candace only lets me into her bathroom once a day, and that was only in order for me to clean it, not allowing me to use it. So rather than using any of the many other restrooms in the mansion, I was forced to use this much less comfortable space. Which I got to use just about as rarely as I was allowed inside of the others to clean them.

I stepped into the shower one foot at a time, my metal collar still securely clasped around my neck. I turned the shower handle to the max, trying to turn the faucet on as hot as I could, yet still I’m met with the same stream of ice cold water as I always was. I shivered, surrounded by the cold steam, hurrying to wash myself and get dried off, but only after I was sure my body was cleaned to my captor’s liking.

Simultaneously lathering myself in a combination of body wash and shampoo, I take gentle care of my hair, one of the few things I can take pride in anymore, now that everything else had been taken away from me, making sure to run my fingers through it for just a moment.

It was about down to my hips at the longest, and it had taken me about all of my adult life to grow it out from the length I’d been made to keep it at as a child. My messy head of dyed peach hair wasn’t actually too off from the normal orange of my hair’s natural pigment, but that extra little bit of pink color really did make it pop- and I liked that.

Once cleaned, I rinsed myself and my hair off in the cold water, wrapping myself in my only towel. Hanging on the towel rack next to the sink was a skimpy but fitting black dress with a white apron and accents sewn onto it, the traditional maid’s uniform- I was a maid after all.

I slipped the dress on once I was dry, sliding on a pair of white tights underneath. While I would have liked to see another woman in such a dress, I wasn’t personally too big a fan of the outfit, but at Candace’s order I resigned myself to wearing it like I was told- making good on my promise of making myself pretty for her.

I immediately got to work cleaning the shower I’d just washed up in, using the water and my pitifully small bucket of cleaning supplies to help flush and clean away any grime from the sink and toilet as well. It was arguably one of the grossest rooms in the home, since I myself wasn’t as picky on how clean my space was in comparison to hers, but it wasn’t too terrible at all, especially since I did still clean it daily.

Once finished, I moved into the master bathroom, immediately able to tell the difference. I was instantly met with the soft scent of her shower, it smelled like Candace, and I could feel my heart skip a beat. Her scent, the smell of her body wash and shampoo, always lingered after her showers, and I made sure to always clean the shower last because of it.

I took a deep breath as I leaned over the side of her bathtub, completely separate from her aforementioned shower, already seemingly clear of any dirt and imperfections and began to scrub it even cleaner. It was clear to me that there was no need to so thoroughly clean Candace’s bathroom every morning, but she was set on having me do so anyways, a part of our routine that I had quickly gotten used to.

It’s not about keeping the house clean to her, it’s about making me work, keeping me busy. It is pleasant in a way, the master bathroom is kept so clean that before I’ve even started to clean, it already looks and smells brand new, making it far easier to polish her porcelain and floor, even if it is big.

I did finally have to put in the effort of cleaning her shower, which was admittedly the hardest thing in her bathroom to clean, and not because I just didn’t want to get rid of the pleasant smell of her cleaning products, I wasn’t so enthralled with her that I didn’t hate just about everything she stood for. It was because it was the one thing in here that she did use, and she used it more than once daily- especially after getting done with her daily workout.

I took a quick glance at myself in the mirror once I’d finished, delicately brushing my locks with her hairbrush. My reflection stared back at me through the pristine glass, she looked defeated.

I never expected to see myself looking like someone’s maid, but there I was, Candace’s slave, her possession. The white light of my collar blinked menacingly every few moments, reminding me of what I was and who I belonged to. I was no longer a person, I was property.

Her property.

I forced myself to look away from the mirror, knocking on the third and final door to her sprawling master bathroom- this one connecting directly into her bedroom- and hoping for her to answer. And after a few moments, I’m met by Candace, holding her empty breakfast tray out to me to be taken care of. “Wash and dry them by hand once you’re done in here.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I mumbled back to her, not wanting to provoke her disapproval as she glared at me, awaiting a response. I looked down as I spoke, her cold mean eyes threatening to cut right through me if we made eye contact, I nodded in agreement, taking the tray from her before watching her make her exit.

Setting the remnants of Candace’s breakfast down for the time being, I made my way to her bed, seeing the soft fiber mattress I wished I could be sleeping in. The carpeted floor of the master bedroom was much nicer under my soles than the cold stone floor of the closet I was forced to call home. I pushed past my bitter jealousy and went on with my work, folding her king-sized sheets nicely, making sure to fluff each of her five soft feather pillows as I made her bed for her.

Being made to clean her bedroom everyday was like torture. I loathe every moment I spend in there without her.

Her king sized bed lied in the corner of the room, attached to the opposite wall was a massive television screen, almost a hundred inches wide. In the corner of the room next to the closet door I could see the metal hatch into my cell, and beside it was a small chest full of tools and implements that I was all too familiar with.

In the middle of the room was a sofa surrounding a large glass coffee table, where she likes to eat her breakfast. Finally, adjacent to her bed was a large desk, Candace’s bedroom gaming rig, complete with three separate monitors for two different computers.

Once I finished making her bed, organizing her clothes, dusting every surface, and vacuuming the floors, I made my way back to the kitchen to wash the dishes from breakfast, including my bowl. Candace’s bedroom always took me the better part of the morning to clean, so I knew that right about now was when I would need to start on lunch.

After finishing the dishes I moved on to cleaning the kitchen, I wiped down the tables, put away utensils- which very conveniently didn’t include anything sharper than a fork, since I wasn’t allowed access to knives- and was in the middle of mopping the kitchen floor when I heard her voice.

“Bring my lunch to the gaming room today, I expect you here before the end of this match.” She ordered, speaking through the intercom directly to me in the kitchen. I clenched my fist, angrily squeezing bubbles out of the sponge in my hand as I followed that order.

I can handle Candace being demanding and strict, but more than anything else, Candace liked being mean and unfair, and it makes my blood boil. Twenty minutes per match is hardly enough time to make and serve lunch to a woman who expects professionally cooked dishes for every meal, and she knows that.

I tossed the sponge back into the soap bucket, stomping my feet to the counter. Exasperated, I began putting together a simple sampling platter for her, a charcuterie prepared on a tray shiny enough to clearly see my own reflection in. I watched my face in the chrome of the dish, my face turning red with humiliated anger.

“I’m sorry, your highness , you should have said something sooner.” I bit my lip as I began slicing cheese onto the platter, unable to hold my temper back any longer. “I am sick and tired of you. If you want things done well, then maybe you shouldn’t make things harder than they need to be…”

I slammed the door of the fridge shut, still simmering with fury as I turned to the sink to wash my hands, looking through the bulletproof glass of the window above the sink, staring over the beach and out into the ocean, so captivatingly close, yet still so far away from me. “Maybe you should have kidnapped a real maid, instead of me…”

Still biting my lip, I stared down into the sink, turning the faucet off. I knew very well why I was here, why it was me here, and not someone else- and it destroyed me. It was me that Candace wanted to punish, my life was the one that she wanted to ruin.

Before I could even reach the now finished platter to deliver it to her I was on my knees, collapsed onto the cold wet floor. Unable to move or gasp for air, I bit down as hard as I could, feeling as if I was being struck by lightning.

The once innocent white light of the metal band around my neck was now quickly blinking red, sending an agonizing torrent of electricity into my throat and through my entire body. The slave collar I had been cursed with was very nearly irremovable, and the evil queen could activate it from anywhere, inside or out.

On all fours now, I cried out in pain, unable to hear the echoes of my own wails through the pain, a ringing in my ears interrupted my thoughts before I could form them. After what felt like an eternity, the shock finally ended, and as I began to regain my senses I could finally feel the tears streaming down my face and onto the surface below. Once the ringing in my ears had subsided I could finally hear my own voice, desperately mumbling the words I’m sorry as loud as I could, over and over again, hoping my mistress would hear and forgive me.

“Lose the attitude, SLAVE, or you won’t be eating. Ever. Again.”

I sobbed even louder, slamming my forehead into the ground, bowing to her, begging for forgiveness. I whimpered loudly, my entire body trembling, feeling a puddle below my face that I couldn’t recognize, unable to identify whether it was the soap and water from cleaning the floors, or my own tears.

“I’m sorry, Madame St. Clair!! I should know better by now. Please, please, forgive me.” My eyes still closed, I attempted to compose myself, pleading for Candace’s amnesty, speaking into the floor below me. I slowly began opening my eyes after a few more moments of desperate apology, the tears streaming down my face now born from fear rather than pain, terrified to think of what she might do to me. “I am so so sorry, Miss, I-”

“Enough now. You’ve already interfered with both the match and my lunch, and you should be ashamed of that. Now make yourself presentable and bring me my food. You’ll have to do the kitchen floor again, starting with that puddle you’re groveling in.”

Through the still fading ringing in my ears I’m interrupted. I could hear the amusement in her voice, able to picture the smug grin on her face even without having to see her.

My face turned bright pink, humiliated to the point of bawling once again as I realized the puddle I was sitting in was neither water nor tears, but that I had soaked myself and the leggings I was wearing while I was collapsed onto the floor, not knowing if I had lost control of myself while I was being electrocuted, or if I had wet my pants in fear as I was being admonished.

Regardless of what it was, all I could manage was a few quiet sobs of acknowledgement and a hushed “Yes, Mistress” through my pained lips.

I slowly pulled myself back up to my feet and snapped back to following Candace’s orders, washing my hands and face clean before delivering her lunch to her.

Entering into the dining room, the pain I had been in from the shock was now fading into discomfort. Usually, the mistress of the house would take her lunch in this room, but today she had instructed me to bring it to her in her entertainment room while she continued to play video games.

Not willing to defy one of her orders, I walked through the opposite doorway out into the opposite hallway, knocking on the door to my destination.

I watched as the lady of the house opened the door to her entertainment room, Candace St. Clair, standing in the doorway to meet me, the controller to my collar strapped around her left wrist expertly disguised to look like an otherwise inconspicuous piece of jewelry.

She stood over me, almost six feet tall, with platinum blonde hair flowing down her back. She was larger and physically stronger than me, with larger and more accentuated curves, fit for her modeling career.

You couldn’t tell by looking at her that she bought that body, shaped by medical treatments and surgeries, she even had what I assumed were a pair of incision scars on her chest where they cut her open and enlarged her breasts. The only thing I could safely say had been untouched by surgery was that gorgeous face of hers.

She went beyond conventionally attractive. She was a goddess.

Yet behind her I could see and hear what she was playing, she spent most of her time practicing her skills at Stolen Cosmos. By profession, Candace was not only a cosplay model, but a famous Esports player, and a passionate one. She was one of the best players in the world, having won second in last year’s World Championship Series.

For the first time ever, the final match had been between two women- astonishingly- and Candace was absolute livid that she wasn’t able to become the first woman to ever win the world championship title, having lost to some rookie girl named Sophia Cavalier, and Candace was determined to never let that happen again.

As a professional Stolen Cosmos player should be, Candace is excellent at planning and micromanaging, capable of having a successful and quite lucrative career as a model while not losing any practice. When it came down to it, the game was what she cared about the most, even if it paid less than her photoshoots- not that she really needed the money.

As much as I despise Candace and the way she treats me most of the time, I really do wish that she had won that championship- because I’m sure she would most certainly treat me better if she wasn’t so adamantly cross with the entire world around her on such a constant basis.

Maybe if she had won, she would have been more than happy to celebrate her victory with me. But instead, she lost- and as a result, I’m the one left to pick up the pieces of her defeat and serve as the subject of her hatred.

The first time I had ever met her in person was at a convention, I had been one of the helpers working at an esports panel and signing event she had been a part of. That was almost four years ago now, back when Candace was still a famous rookie.

It was ironic really, I should have noticed her less than virtuous tendencies when I asked for her autograph after the event, either too shy to or not having the chance to get in line while she was actually giving away autographs- when instead of finding some piece of paper to write an autograph for me on, she asked me to turn around and roll up my shirt so that she could write her initials on my lower back.

And of course she took pictures of it with my phone, I even got a picture together with her after the fact, at the time I just thought it was a normal thing for minor celebrities like her to do, but looking back on it- that day should have probably been my first red flag.

In contrast to the mistress of the house, of course, I was considerably less impressive. I was more than half a foot shorter than her, with that messy head of dyed hair, and I was noticeably smaller in my curves- cute- but not as attractive as the woman in front of me.

And that was just my appearance, my childhood had been a nightmare too- having been taken away from my parents at a really young age and raised in foster care. I had been on my own all my life, while Candace had a family behind her- and what a family it was.

I was snapped back to reality, greeted by a forceful slap to the face, barely managing to keep my hands steady enough to keep from dropping the tray. I held her lunch out to her in one hand, wiping my tears away with the other. Being struck by my mistress hurt more than being shocked, not physically, but mentally.

“I’m ashamed of myself, I- I’m sorry, Miss. I promise that it won’t ha-”

“What happened to your lip?” She asked, now staring at my bottom lip. I quieted myself, putting my hand up to my lip as she took the tray from me, noticing the bleeding for the very first time.

I had been so distraught by everything that was going on that I hadn’t noticed that I’d bitten through the skin of my lower lip as I was being electrocuted. “I- it’s nothing, my lady.”

“See to it that it heals properly, I won’t be having you kiss my boots with bloody lips. As for your transgressions earlier, I stand by what I said, you won’t be eating tonight… Nor will you be permitted to use the washroom again, since you’re clearly so eager to piss your pants.”

She smirked, beginning to turn around back into the room, setting her lunch down on her side table. But even seeing that grin, I couldn’t help but be a little touched by the idea that she might very well care for my safety in seeing the blood coming from my face.

“That being said, as long as you don’t make any further mistakes today, you won’t be subjected to any more physical punishment. But one more fuck up and I will make you suffer tonight, is that understood, Chloe?”

My frowned quickly turned into a smile, grateful that Candace seemingly forgiven me for talking back to her. My hands crossed in front of my hips, gripping tightly at the skirt of my dress as I bowed happily, tears of relief now dripping down my face. “Thank you, Mistress…”

After hearing the sound of Candace shutting the door on me, I rose and headed back to the kitchen, beginning to clean up the mess I’d created on the floor. It was humiliating to think that Candace could see me even from another room, watching me accidentally piss myself in the kitchen.

I swiftly cleaned up the puddle, dealing with my own mess and washing the entirety of the kitchen floor again before moving on to the rest of my duties. Eager to impress her, I thoroughly swept and scrubbed every hallway in the house, my metal collar beeping loudly to warn both me and my mistress of my misconduct the closer I got to each of the exits, as well as mopping the floors of the foyer, lounge, and parlor- not making a single peep.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully after that point, I found other things to do, dusting and cleaning windows, reorganizing shelves, and taking care of my owner’s cat, until eventually I heard Candace’s footsteps coming out of her gaming and entertainment room.

“You’ll be deep cleaning the dining room tonight, while I eat, since I clearly need to keep a closer eye on you.” I could hear the disappointment in her voice as I rose to meet her, following her through the dining room as she gestured for me to enter the kitchen.

Deep cleaning was something that I did once a day, for a different room every day of the week. The dining room, entertainment room, pet room, laundry room, parlor, lounge, and foyer each needed special attention once per week-

And while there wasn’t exactly a strict schedule to it, the one thing that I had noticed was that Candace usually locked me into the laundry room when she needed to leave me at home alone without supervision, which usually included Sunday mornings- which I assumed was because she left for church.

I was at least glad that she didn’t force me to accompany her to mass every week, not that I was ever allowed to leave the house, I could only pray that if she ever did allow me to leave the house that she wouldn’t force me to attend with her. I had never practiced religion in my life, and I didn’t really have any desire to start now.

Without saying a word to her, I began cooking dinner, and I could hear her grow equally as silent from the other room as I did so. Doing my best to try and impress her again, I did my best to serve her favorite pasta for dinner- baked penne rigate with italian sausage, ricotta cheese, red onion, white wine, tomato garlic sauce, and chopped peppers.

Candace liked peppers, just not usually for breakfast. The girl might be more pasty than your average person- on account of her medical condition- but she could handle her spices. She was italian after all~

I quickly finished dinner for her, entering the dining room once again to find Candace turned around, staring out into that same ocean through the large sliding glass door out of the dining room, overlooking the beach behind the house and into the sea.

She would enjoy her meal of course, but there was more to it than just any italian heritage, there was still that huge white elephant in the room- Candace’s family.

“The summer solstice is tomorrow… the days will only get shorter soon.” She stared longingly out into the water, watching the sun as it sets, pondering at me. “Does my thrall know how to swim?”

“I do, Ma’am.” I set her dish down on the table in front of her before setting out to clean the windows she was staring through, gazing out into the ocean with her. “Though I doubt I’m as good at it as you are, growing up on the beach and all…”

“I think one day I’ll take you out there with me, swimming alone can only be fun for so long.” She turned back around, more than happy to begin eating her dinner, sighing to herself. “The worst that you’ve done since you’ve gotten here is make me realize how lonely it is not having someone to talk to…”

“I’m glad to hear that I haven’t done anything worse than what got me in this mess in the first place.” Pleased to see her enjoying her meal, I went to work behind her, finishing up cleaning the windows, mostly keeping to myself as she ate, beginning to polish the fancy dishware she kept on display here in the dining room with us.

I wasn’t actually allowed to talk about why I was here, not really. It was the one surefire thing that she had a strict rule against- reminding her of what I did to her. I didn’t like it, but I respected it, if what I did to her was bad enough to convince her to kidnap and punish me for it, then it was clearly understandable that she didn’t like thinking about it.

Candace had a power that most people never would, all thanks to her family. She used that power to kidnap and keep me here, and she did claim me as her slave in order to punish me, she made that clear, and because she had the power to make it happen, I had been powerless to stop it.

Candace wasn’t just a professional model and top tier esports champion- she was a mafioso, and an extremely wealthy and powerful one at that. Her family wasn’t just part of the mafia either, her family was at the center of the mafia.

Her father was one of the most powerful men in the business, and she was the godfather’s daughter- she was his heiress.

“Would you like to go home someday, Chloe?”

“Yes.” My grasp tightened around the both elegantly carved and delicately built dish I’d been cleaning as I thought about home. My heart skipped a beat, stopping me in my tracks as I heard her voice, giving me just a sliver of hope that she might forgive me enough to free me someday, struggling to keep my composure still. “I… I would…”

“You’re not getting out of this. Ever.” She looked me straight in the eye and told me no, a stern look painted onto her face, platinum hair glistening in the light of the sunset as her deep blue eyes stared straight into my soul and snuffed out any last hope in my heart I still held for myself. “There’s no home waiting for you out there. This place is where you belong, your home… I am your home now. Understood?”

I bit down on my already injured lip again, tears dripping onto the floor as my heart broke inside of my chest, but the crushing emotion inside of me was far from the only thing to shatter. A loud clatter of glass echoed through the otherwise silent house as one of Candace’s fancy pieces of china fell to pieces in my hands, crushed by the weight of defeat still heavy in my still crying little head.

Unable to summon any words, I once again lowered my head to the floor in shame, before letting the rest of my body fall with them, pleading with her. I listened carefully as her footsteps got closer, watching her shadow as she sat down in front of me.

I sniffled, trying to choke back my fear as I watched her reach towards me, this time pinching my lower lip between her fingers, causing it to bleed out anew as she picked up a small piece of glass, forcing my mouth open and placing it on my tongue.

“I knew you couldn’t do it.” She stood me up and sent me out of the room back to the kitchen, rushing to clean up my mistake. “Go find something for these shards, and clean this up with your mouth.”

It was beyond terrifying, but I did as I was told, I quickly found a small waste bin and spit the small plate shard into it, finding a small rag to put to my lip before heading back to the dining room. I carried it back with me, wetting the rag and pressing it against my mouth to help stop the bleeding, kneeling down next to the china cabinet.

In preparation of getting to watch me clean up after myself, Candace had already moved across the table into a position to watch my torment, legs crossed as she held the now empty plate from dinner- and dropped it onto the floor at my feet, shattering to pieces alongside the dish that I had broken, making my job all that much worse to put myself through.

As her slave, I slowly and painstakingly did what my owner instructed me to, picking up each and every shard with my mouth and depositing the pieces into the waste bin. It wasn’t a torture that most people would ever allow themselves to endure- but I had no choice, I was less than a person to her, and her word was all that mattered.

“I’m very disappointed in your performance today. That will be all from you, I will have you deep clean the dining room tomorrow in addition to your regular duties.” Her words hurt me, not quite as stingingly as the newly forming cuts in my mouth, but a lot more deeply.

She lifted me by my wrist, having finished with what remnants of her food were left while enjoying my pain, walking back to her room with me in tow. Back through the closet, she opened my cell, placing me back inside of it for the night- and I collapsed to the floor in defeat, wanting to plead for forgiveness, but still tormented by the pains in my mouth.

“Strip naked, and then get the restraints ready, I’m not done with you yet.” She slammed the cell door closed, opening the hatch in the main door of my cell for me to deposit my piss stained uniform through, before walking away.

I did as I’m told, stripping my uniform off and putting it through the hatch, closing it once I’m done and rendering myself unable to open it back up. I then moved onto getting the restraints ready for my captor, there were two pairs of shackles in my cell, attached to the wall on one side- and just as I was told, I pulled them out into position and got myself ready for Candace’s return.

I sat in abject silence for what must have been an hour until I could hear any activity from outside of my cell. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I could hear her set down something heavy outside of the door just before she opened it, kicking my uniform to the side. “You’ll be working naked for most of tomorrow, since you need to do laundry anyways. Stand up and face the wall.”

Following her instructions, I rose to my feet, my knees trembling as I turned to face the wall away from the master bedroom, closing my eyes and allowing Candace to shackle both of my wrists and both of my ankles to the wall in front of me, preventing me from turning away from it. Her warm hands began to run up and down my back, feeling my every bump and curve. I held my tongue and my breath as she cupped both of my breasts with her soft delicate palms.

“I’m not here to fuck you, that’d be letting you off easy… I’m here to punish you, for everything you’ve done to me… Now whimper for my forgiveness…” She whispered directly into my ear, letting me feel her warm breath before I began to whimper loudly through lips, tears running down my face again.

“One of my father’s favorite assistants helped convince him to get me this fancy little toy right here… just for you.” My eyes went wide as she spoke, watching her retrieve a large glowing branding iron in the shape of a spiral, like a demented nautilus shell. She squeezed my ass in her hand before running her fingers up to my lower back, tracing a circle just above my tailbone. “I think here will do just fine, don’t you my little plaything~?”

“Candace… please…” I stared back at her with tears in my eyes, pleading for mercy as she pressed the burning iron into my skin, pushing it deep into my lower back, crying out in pain as I’m left helpless to fight back against her, forced to wallow in pain as she incinerated the symbol into me like a tramp stamp, holding it there for what felt like an hour before she finally relented. She finally doused the branding iron, putting it out completely before returning to me, a bawling mess still chained to the wall.

“Oh, Chloe… I should leave you here. I should leave you shackled and in pain until you starve to death, but I won’t… I can’t… I want more from you, and I won’t stop until I’ve ruined your life…”

She smacked my backside, sending a horrible spike of pain through my body as her hand struck the brand. Candace began to unshackle me from the wall, gently helping me to the floor before heading into her bedroom for a few moments, returning later with a single small pill and a glass of water.

She grabbed me by the lip, much gentler this time, opening my mouth up and setting the pill down on my tongue like she had done with that shard of dinnerware just earlier in the night, holding the glass of water to my lips and helping me swallow the pill.

“That pill will help numb your mouth, to make it hurt less, and it’s going to make tomorrow all the more interesting for you.” She set my muzzle down in her lap, getting ready to strap it onto my face. “You’re going to do better tomorrow. Aren’t you, Chloe?”

“Mistress…” Looking her in the eyes once again, my vision blurred by tears, I nodded. “I promise.”

“Enjoy your new brand, Slave.”

And with that, she curled my leggings from lunch into a ball and very softly stuffed them into my mouth, lifting the muzzle up to my face, and wrapping the whole thing around my still numbing mouth, strapping it securely onto my face, giving me a short goodbye before closing the door to my cell and heading to bed for the night.

“Goodnight, Chloe. I’ll come and get you in the morning.”