I stared deeply into her eyes for a few anxious moments, my broken heart pounding in my chest.

For the first time, I found myself looking down at her from above, her desperate eyes sparkling with fear. A mixture of expressions washed over her face in that instant, as her fearful gaze turned bloodthirsty.

Candace was bleeding, a red pool spreading to the carpet beneath her as she reached out and grabbed the bloodied knife straight from my quivering hand.

You might think you know everything about yourself. But you’re wrong.

It had started out hopeful enough. In the aftermath of inviting so many guests into the mansion a few weeks prior, that was the turning point. When Candace did eventually send me back to work, I confirmed it. This was happening. I found something I wasn’t supposed to find that night; somebody had left a knife in the dishwasher. In a hurried scramble I hid it away as quickly as I could, amongst the clutter of cleaning supplies beneath the kitchen sink. One place I knew Candace wouldn’t look. So I kept it buried away and I waited. I didn’t yet know when I was going to use it, but I was going to use it.

Candace had slipped up for the first time and I wasn’t about to let this chance get away from me.

Summer was in full swing now. It was the day before my surgery, and Candace waited until there was just one day left to spring it on me out of nowhere, like an oncoming car. She was going to spay me like an animal.

Candace had done a lot to me. She’d implanted things inside of me, mutilated my hair, branded my skin, but this was just too far.

I can’t let her do this to me.

She can’t do this to me.

“You can’t do this to me!” I shrieked at her as she sprung her little bombshell on me, hitting me with the news out of nowhere. I shook, pounding my fist on the table and struggling to hold back a mental breakdown. “Please don’t do this to me, Candace…”

Shocked at my behavior, she glared at me from across the dining room, her eyes like a pair of cerulean daggers driving themselves into my soul. Yet those eyes were hiding something. “I’m sorry- who are you speaking to like this?”

“Please listen to me, Mistress!” The empty tray I had only just picked back up clattered back onto the table, as I stood clutching the hem of my dress in terror. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to be sterilized. If you do this I’ll never be able to get pregnant… I’ll never get to have my own kids.”

“And who’s the lucky man or woman whose children you want to give birth to?” She pointed at me accusingly with her fork before lifting food into her mouth.

“That’s not the point, Cand-”

“Yes it is. That is the point, Chloe!” She slammed her fork down into her lunch, the metal handle standing upright. “It’s to prove to you that you belong to me. To keep you from fantasizing about having your own perfect little family out there somewhere. No one is allowed to get you pregnant but me, and that’s clearly not happening.”

Candace paused to rub her left eye with her middle finger, careful not to scratch her pupil. There was no way to tell if she was crying or not but my instincts told me no. Candace didn’t cry. Not on or off stage. Her mind was one of conflicting emotions. “You’re the one who said family was overrated. You’d think someone who was orphaned as a child would think to adopt.”

I winced- scared she might just plunge that fork into my voicebox and mute me while she was at it. “But it’s my body… I should have the option to…”

“What don’t you get about being my property, Chloe? You’re a slave. An animal. An object. You don’t get options; you get what I give you. Besides… I can’t get pregnant either, so I don’t see what the big deal is.” She lied, seeing very well what the big deal was with those two strangely unmatching shades of blue in her eyes- one now almost purple in the light as she looked towards the setting sun. “I get to do whatever I damn well please to you and your body, so shut the fuck up and get back to work. Now!”

Candace, as it would seem, can’t have kids. At least that’s how she was making it sound.

I couldn’t always read the gears in her head, but I had a pretty good idea most of the time about what’s going on in there. When she says there’s no big deal- she’s lying. Her lies hum sweetly into my ears only when they’re just what I want to hear from her. That’s how she’d tricked me into thinking she was a sweetheart. So badly had I wanted her to be a sweetheart that when she showed me she was, I believed it. But I couldn’t believe this, because it just wasn’t true.

I pleaded in vain. What use was trying to reason with her when just doing so only enraged her further? When each suggestion I made, however reasonable and sound, fell upon deaf ears due to her insistence that I have no choice in the matter? I could sweeten up my words as much as I liked- she still didn’t want to hear. “Please, Master? I know. I know I’m not supposed to have a say in this. But, please… birth control is an option. Maybe-”

“You know what?” Candace calmly set both of her elbows on the table, interlocking her fingers and cradling her chin with them as she grinned at me. “You’ve convinced me.” Her grin widened as she said that, staring at me with a hungry look in her eyes.

Those were the last words I had expected to hear come from those lips- leaving me mumbling skeptically. “What do you mean?”

“Tonight is your last night to be bred. You poor thing, I should have thought of that sooner. Surely you’re not making a fuss about wanting control over your own body, that would be absurd and out of place. This must just be your way of trying to ask me to breed you while you still have the chance. Am I right?”

An angry lump in my throat choked me further. Now she was just taunting me. In all actuality, I didn’t like nor want kids. Frankly, I hated children. But that didn’t mean I was okay with being forced into sterilization against my will. I could never afford birth control, or else I’d have gotten it. The thought of getting knocked up by a man- any man- disgusted me, and the thought of the same being done by a woman didn’t sit much better, regardless of how exciting the prospect might be.

That in mind, this was not me saying that I wished to be bred. But what other answer could I give at this point?

Candace was hearing my words, but she wasn’t actually listening to them. She didn’t care what I thought or said; if she did, it would be the greatest shock of my life. But no, Candace was just using this opportunity to prove her point. On the eve of taking my humanity away for good she was going to punish me for trying to fight back.

“You’ve convinced me. If you want me to breed you so badly- then I fucking will.”

She glared me up and down with those two pretty lights of hers. Yet those eyes told two different stories. Nevertheless, her language may be fancy but her words were clear. She couldn’t carry children. She couldn’t breed. My owner was finally going to punish me with the one thing she knew I’d been dreading from the beginning.

Candace was going to rape me.

Eyes drifting to my feet to ensure proper form. Hem still curled in my fingers. I hung my head in defeated respect and curtsied. “Yes, Master.”

There was no arguing with her. When Candace wanted something, she got it.

My heart was twisted. Every time I look at her- every time she speaks to me- it flutters.

Why does my heart ache for her? What is she doing to me? What am I becoming?

I didn’t want this. I couldn’t want this. Yet I could feel some small part of me that did- and that was a part of me that I needed to destroy here and now.

Following her orders, I got back to work. Saying nothing as I marched my way into the kitchen I set out to properly clean the dishes from dinner. I didn’t want to risk her hearing me speak. I knew that every move of mine was being watched and listened to. I knew what I had to do next and I had a pretty good hunch that whatever it was that she used to watch me on cameras, she couldn’t do it from the dining room. Candace could only watch me from one of her many screens, but just in case I was wrong I wasn’t about to take any chances. I slipped the clean dishes away to dry, slowly getting back to work on my hands and knees, scrubbing the floor with nothing but a sponge and my newly learned housewife skills. But as I reached beneath the sink to retrieve the cleaning supplies, I made sure to silently slip the knife I’d kept hidden away safely into my apron. And with a deep breath, I set out to finish my work for the night.

Candace took cruel satisfaction in standing behind me- just watching me obediently work away on all fours for her. She was enjoying this.

But I’d been waiting to spring my own little surprise on her. Not for this day, but for the day where I would have no choice but to use it. I wanted out of here, and tonight was the night that I was finally going to make that happen.

My master- no, my captor - stood there, deep in thought as she studied my every move. There I was, just like she wanted. Wearing my work on my sleeve dressed as a servant, exactly as she had taught me to. But somehow she was frowning.

Amazingly, no amount of enticing hip shaking or loathsome bounce in my bosom could bring a smile to her face at that moment. And just for a bit I thought maybe, just maybe, she was going to show me mercy. Maybe she would change her mind. Oh how disappointed I would be when that cruel smile returned to her lips, now more intent than ever on having her way with my body. This was it, there was no changing her mind. I didn’t want to do this, but as in all things- she left me no choice. I’d have to put an end to this myself.

The next time she touches me- she dies.

For the rest of the night, from sunset to dusk, I was terrified. Every time she stepped out of her nightly practice session in the entertainment room I was sure that she’d seen me. Paranoia overtook me- I was convinced that she knew what I was planning to do to her. But she didn’t.

She never said anything, never looked at me funny, never saw me with that knife.

Part of me wished she had. An even smaller part of me wanted to tip my hand and show it to her. I didn’t want this. Everything about this was nerve wracking. I didn’t want to kill her, but I knew that I’d never be able to leave this house unless she was dead.

That was what I wanted. Not to be a murderer, but to escape. To get out of this house and all costs. Because I knew that if I kept going, I’d fall in love with her. I would never be able to fight her. I’d never be able to fight back. I’d be helpless.

And I can’t stand that feeling any longer.

My routine is the same every day.

I’m awoken when she chooses to wake me. I make breakfast for her- so desperate to be allowed simple necessities like a place to eat, clean, and relieve myself that I’ll remain subject to her even unsupervised. Hoping that she appreciates my work, I allow myself to be caged once again, indebted to her for meeting my basic human needs in exchange for my service. She feeds me, provides me a place to freshen up, and lets me dress myself. Unlike hers, my body was no longer a stranger to being seen naked- it was my natural state. She allows me to wear the same thing every day, a simple pair of matching intimates and one of my pathetic little maid uniforms, a symbol of my status. Reminding me of what I am, her personal housemaid.

Slaving away, I get to work. I clean the bathroom she prohibits me from using- and I tidy the bedroom I long to live in, trying desperately not to break down and cry. Lastly, I’m forced to address my own living space. My cell needs tidied and cleaned every morning.

Her kitchen is clean before she’s served breakfast. The rest of the house, mercifully, need not be cleaned on a daily basis. It simply needs polished to perfection.

This is busy work. Something I do not out of necessity, but to keep me in line. And I’m always left endlessly thankful for this. If I hadn’t the expectation on my shoulders to be working from when I wake until I sleep I might find the time to think- and if I think, I’ll break. To keep myself from breaking down and crumbling under my situation, I keep myself busy.

Exactly as I’m told.

Deep cleaning eats away at my day, tending to one of many room she picks from a hat for me to put my heart and soul into taking care of- the things I touch and the hands I use to touch them hers, owning nothing, knowing I’ll be beaten if my work isn’t to her liking. Cats need fed. Hallways need scrubbed. Lunch and dinner need made and served to her without question, complaint, or hesitation. And once I’m done with everything she gives me, all that’s left is to find busy work to occupy myself with until I’m graced with her voice- demanding that I turn in for the night. Never to burden her with my unwanted presence. Her influence is hardly seen but always felt. She was always watching and listening, yet never allowing me to get close to her. All I can do is wait for her word and appreciate her command, allowed just a few moments with her as she helps me back in my cell for the night to do it all over. I live for those moments. Alone. Still waiting to be noticed. Desperate for her approval. From its gears to its wires, the machine must be maintained and cared for. Candace’s routine intricate and unquestionable.

Today I got a glimpse of why. Why does Candace close herself off behind those doors? Why won’t she let me close? Why can’t she be at my side to pinch my ear and tell me that everything is okay? It’s because she knows me like I know her; she knows herself not to be so different from me in the end. She forces me under her boot to protect herself from me. In order to keep our hearts from mixing- she keeps me away. She can’t let herself fall in love with me like I can’t let myself fall in love with her. Tonight we find out who’s winning in that regard.

I don’t want to be stuck doing this for the rest of my life.

Kneeling outside her door, I wait for my moment to be with her. She opens up, gesturing for me to come in for the night. As normal- I nervously make my way into her bedroom and I wait for her to say something.

“What do you think, Chloe?” At long last, she speaks. Words which leave me waiting for more slip from her lips like a melody. Hypnotically enticing and apocalyptically dangerous. “Would the cattle still like to be bred?”

And with nothing to give but the bitterness of honesty, I respond. “N-no, Ma’am. I’d like to go to bed…”

I’m directed towards the closet door as she unlocks it, opening it for me and gesturing inside. For a moment I think maybe she’d delayed the inevitable; that I could possibly slip into bed for the night and lie peacefully- spared from the blood I don’t wish to shed. Or perhaps maybe to be caught in the morning with the blade, allowing it to be confiscated from me before I did something I’d regret. Only to be met with sour disappointment once more.

“That’s too bad. Go undress yourself and bring your ass back in here.”

Those were the words I’d expected, her hums failing to pierce my armor. I already had a response in mind. No professional plays without a plan. I knew what I was doing- and I was going to win. And this was how I was going to win it. Licking my lips, shaking my hips, biting my tongue, and batting my lashes. Hypnotically enticing and apocalyptically dangerous.

“Actually, Mistress. I was thinking…” Always a treacherous thing to do, think. Vocalizing such things even more so. Now normally Candace would never fall for my words like I fall for hers- but she wasn’t really so different. She just needed to hear what she wanted. “Maybe you could help me undress?”

A shy smile made its way onto my mouth, clenched between my teeth. I watched that expression of hers change, closing the door and gesturing me towards it as she circled her way behind me. “I’d love to.” She smiled, and I could feel the honesty in that hum of hers. “Face the closet and hold still, okay?”

Candace’s voice was too sweet for her own good. Beyond telling lies tonight. She was clearly quite eager to help me get my clothes off, living for these little moments with me. I of course obliged, knowing that this might very well be the last little bit of intimacy we ever share. The mistress of the house tucked her arms beneath mine, reaching around my waist to untie the laces keeping my uniform in place as the machine keeping me in place beneath her heel began to finally unwind.

My reflection stared back at me. Facing the person who stood before me in the mirror hung between myself and the closet door. Hazel eyes locked with mine and yet they weren’t mine.

If I didn’t do something now, Candace would win. I’d become exactly what she wanted me to be and all of her lies would come true. She’d turn me into her hopelessly helpless little servant for the rest of my life. A loyal plaything who would fawn over her. Somebody who would listen to and obey her every word. Something to tend to her every want and need. An object to handle, hurt, and humiliate- forever subject to her whims. An animal trained to accept anything in order to pleasure her. Someone who would bend over for her. Desperate for her attention. Desperate for her approval. Desperate for her love.

A perfectly submissive slave. Her perfectly submissive slave.

That’s not who I am. That’s who I’m becoming. That’s the woman who’s replacing me.

She wore a gorgeous gold cattle tag on one ear, glistening with rosy light. That girl, whoever she was, was tragically heartstopping. But the person in the mirror wasn’t me. She wore her new name with such great pride, a symbol of her status carved into that instrument clipped to her ear telling her it was going to be okay. That name engraved into the metal reminding her of who she was- a slave to her master’s touch- Chloe.

That’s not me. I’m not Chloe.

Now or never- for better or for worse- this was it. I spun in her arms. An elegant dance. My thumb resting on the bottom of the knife’s handle, I held it like a movie murderer, a dagger as it stabbed itself into her breast. Candace fell to the floor on her back, and I fell with her.

A shock like no other overwhelmed us both. We froze, our eyes locked in fear of each other. Neither of us knew what was to happen next, but Candace and I were both so painfully aware that there was nothing left to chance now.

In that instant I fell petrified above her, still holding the knife, posed like a beautiful and perfect statue. The tears began to roll down my cheeks. She had tears in her eyes too, gazing into mine, shocked with fear. As she looked at me with the true colors of those beautiful mismatched eyes of hers for the first time, Candace Saint Clair began to cry.

And I wasn’t sure who did what but the next thing I felt were those lips locked against mine, her body pressed to the ground beneath me as I took the knife from her body, our souls dancing around each other as we kissed.

But just as soon as it began, it all had to end, and I could see in Candace’s eyes a fierce and overwhelming regret, and it broke my heart in an instant.

So many things overtook me in that moment as I pulled away, and none of it bloomed confidence within me. The excitement in my breath was replaced with the heat of guilty passion, but even the feeling of my hands fleeing from her touch didn’t hurt quite like looking in those eyes as I spat in her face.

And I crumbled to the floor at her feet within moments.

I can’t do it. I can’t kill Candace.

I love her.

“No.” My voice was filled with hatred, not towards her, but towards myself. Desperate for it not to be true. I needed this to all be a dream again. But it wasn’t. “I-I’m sorry… I… Candace…”

As soon as the words left my mouth I watched the light return to her still living eyes, her expression twisting into a rueful scowl. I gazed into the beauty she’d kept from me, noticing for the first time that her eyes were indeed two different colors. Her left was as deep blue and beautiful as the ocean- just like I’d known it to be, but her right was like fire- a disfigured red iris in the place of anything natural- boiling with rage. She clenched down on the sharp of the knife I still clutched in one hand, unable to wield it against her; the blade cut its way into her skin. Her eyes were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.

My only weapon was gone from my hand as quick as I was gone from the scene. In terror I leapt to my feet, my uniform just barely hanging by the laces as I ran into the master bedroom and slammed the subsequently locked door shut behind me.

What was I supposed to do now? It would only take her a few moments to get up and follow me, and assuming she didn’t go into shock, she was going to kill me for sure.

Yet the thought of her going into shock kept me anchored and unable to flee any further.

How could I do this? How could I be so naive? How could I attack the girl I love?

I’d left her master bathroom in immaculate shape, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. In a blind scramble I began to ransack the place- trying to get thoughts of her out of my head as I scavenged for something to defend myself with. My mind consumed with worries of my captor’s state, I wondered if I should turn back. Those thoughts then were quickly consumed by fear- and I fled from the door before she could get inside. Candace must have taken a few moments to recover, because by the time I heard her at the door I had pretty much scoured the whole room. I jumped into the hallway, once again slamming doors behind me as I turned to the kitchen.

Just as violently, the dishwasher yanked open. In the heat of the moment- being chased by an angry psychopath- I’d forgotten that I had already emptied it of anything that could have been useful. I cursed myself for being so good at my job, knowing that everything had already been put away and locked to make sure I can’t get to it.

“Damn it… No…”

Candace was no longer wearing the same gorgeous baby blue nightgown she had been, stepping out of the bathroom bleeding out onto a strapless black pleather corset and sporting a matching pair of lacey black boxers at her hips. She did not look happy.

The only place I could think to run now was into the dining room as she approached me, knowing that I had no hopes of outrunning me. But the closer I got to the sliding glass door the more frequent and blaring the metal band strapped around my neck became.

The manor overlooked that beautiful little beach to the west. If I could only get to the ocean I’d be free. But between those two potted plants on either side, this translucent barrier kept me locked away. My hands, tired and shaking, yanked on the door handle as hard as I could. But even with all of my might paired with the adrenaline pumping through my veins- the door wouldn’t open. Suddenly and violently, the blinking red light stopped, opting to instead glow a solid and ominous crimson as it sent a horrendous streak of pain up and down my spine which quickly knocked me onto the cold stainless floor below.

I struggled to breathe again, amazed that I hadn’t already been shocked unconscious. Candace coiled her vitriolic blood stained fingers into my hair to force me to my feet before slamming me headlong into the sliding glass door without a warning. She groaned, yanking me back and forth until I could no longer see straight through the unbreakable glass barrier. And I endured the pain of my collar electrocuting me as she treated me like I was- a ragdoll.

Candace was so much stronger than I was- or I’d have tried to overpower her by now. She stood almost half a foot taller than me at her apex, decorated with both perfectly bubbly curves and effectively toned muscles.

She tossed me to her feet with ease. My hair slipped from her fingers, head slamming into the china cabinet as I was hurled. Another sign that she didn’t much care for her ornaments as long as she was tormenting me. In a scramble to get back up, I kicked the potted plant over and began to throw the precious glassware at my assailant.

Attacking her had been the single worst decision of my entire life, and it had left me fighting for every little moment I had left.

I watched in morbid horror as my own actions sent a ceramic plate shattering over her head, much like a glass bottle on the night of an afterparty. My heart instantly filled with further regret, the blood now painting her delicate scalp splitting me down the middle, desperate not to hurt her any further. She struggled for just long enough, and in her haze I fled again to the lounge- unable to watch the pain she was in as tears continued to flood from my eyes.

Barely managing to crawl there from the floor, I struggled to my feet just in time to see the full fury in those beautiful eyes of hers. “I swear to fucking God! You insufferable fucknose whore!” Debasements came hurling towards me from the archway, red bloodstains now prominent in her immaculate platinum blonde hair. “Get the fuck back here so I can slit your throat before I gut you like a fucking pig!”

I’d never been so terrified in my entire life.

Even as I stood, Candace towered over me. I was in awe at her sheer menace; she left me petrified in place. Horrified, I froze, barely able to breathe as she approached me. A bloody hand grabbed me by my red hair, dragging me to the scarlet soaked dagger she held in her equally sanguinated hand.

“And here I thought you wanted me to breed you. But instead I get nothing but a little piglet trying to send me to the slaughterhouse instead.” Dragged to the knife by my locks, I whimpered. Candace wasn’t playing games anymore. She was out for blood, and she had the blade against my throat to prove it. “I was trying to do something good for you tonight. You should have felt honored that I even thought to let a filthy little freak like you anywhere close to my genitals. You ugly pig nosed dyke!” I felt her press the dagger further into me, cutting into my layers of skin ever so slightly as she reveled in my terrified shrieks before letting up. “You don’t think I- Candace St. Clair- can live up to your expectations?! You don’t think I can compare to your sicko porn fantasies?!”

Weak knees trembled beneath my own weight, struggling not to slam to the ground and beg for Candace’s forgiveness. The only thing holding me up now was her. I swallowed nervously, the feeling of the blade against the lump in my throat brought tears ripping from my eyes anew.

“Fucking try me.”

Candace sliced through my uniform with ease, finally freeing me of it. She removed every piece of clothing from my body, big and small, and kicked them aside. Now stripped down to my natural state, I quickly found myself dragged screaming into the corner before finally being dropped to my knees. It was a bitter mercy that lasted only seconds, quickly cut dead by the sight of her holding the dagger in her bloody hand- pointing it straight at my face. Just as I was about to be.

Grossly, I felt her anger and I understood it; I agreed with it. Empathetic rage cursed me with the same emotions of betrayal, hurt, and disgust that she was undoubtedly filled with just then.

Yet that didn’t at all imply that she understood how I felt. My frail heart held nothing but contempt for myself, yes. Frustration. Resentment. Guilt. Inadequacy. These and more than these were true of what it was like to lay eyes on her.

Don’t for a second think I’m a fool. No matter what Candace might say, she detested me for a reason. Nothing short of brilliant would ever be worth this sort of animosity- yet Candace loathed me. Who could possibly outsmart, outwit, outmaneuver, and outplay a woman like her? Yours truly is who. You weren’t there; you wouldn’t know. I’m no moron. Regardless of the hatred she harbored, I was smart enough to realize that I didn’t return it in kind. Even at the edge of death I was painfully aware that I could never truly hate Candace St. Clair…

…No matter how much I wanted to.

“I’m sorry.” Only by soaking themselves in my still trailing tears could my dry lips manage such a word. They were puppeted by the wetness of emotion seeping in.

A reflection in the wet steel before my eyes- they could see- was wincing. My mind’s gears that always ticked away were sure that I should die, but deep down my heart knew it wasn’t so simple even for her. It wasn’t the hesitation of thought. This was different. Candace was feeling her way through this just as much as I was.

“Listen closely and follow my orders like your worthless life depends on it, because it does.” Candace flourished the knife in her hand, heart wrought by her own desperate emotions as she awaited a verbal response.

Finally, my breath came searing with before voiceless pleas. They shook. “I… Y-yes, Ma’am…” I hadn’t been this afraid since the moment I woke to find myself in her grasp for the very first time.

“I’m going to screw you to death tonight whether you like it or not, but you just lost the privilege of getting to enjoy it with me. Good on you.” She said for her own benefit as much as mine. “Now lick this knife clean before I have to shed your blood all over it.”

Without a moment’s hesitation she pressed the sharp of the knife to my lips. Horrifyingly, my still whimpering mouth opened- with much reluctance- pressing my tongue to the blade and beginning to lick Candace’s blood clean from it. The remnants stained, despite my best efforts to embrace the bitter taste of iron and pain. Yet once I had thought the job done she simply took the knife away, holding her bloody palm to my mouth in its stead.

“Now you’re going to lick my wounds clean, or I’m going to electrocute you to death.” She held a finger of her other hand to the fancy electronic bracelet strapped to her wrist, looking me in the eyes. My eyes locked with hers, quickly finding myself unable to speak even before opening my mouth to suck her bloody hands dry. She winced with pain, and as soon as she was satisfied, quickly jerked away. I watched as she reeled that hand back and followed with my eyes as she slapped me across the face as hard as she could with it- following it up with an equally strong backhand.

For the first time ever, I could see how she did it. Candace pressed her finger into the digital button on the screen of her bracelet. What followed was a debilitating jolt of lighting spreading its way into my body from my collar, quickly rendering me unable to operate even the most minute of muscles.

The world around me was nothing short of a blur for the next several moments.

I hated myself, but I didn’t deserve this, not by a long shot. Candace didn’t even have the decency of letting me rest once the pain was gone either. Still collapsed there on the ground, I felt the sudden snap of Candace kicking me in the head. Where she got the rope was unclear, but by the time my vision returned to me I could feel my hands tied tightly behind my back. The other end wrapped firmly around her free wrist. She had the knife in one hand and a black riding crop in the other. It matched her corset.

“Well go on-” She hissed at me. “Clean this shit up. Now.”

Another violent shove from her boot sent me tumbling over myself, falling into another corner of the room.

My collar began to sound off, a high pitched beeping cutting through the sounds of my own heartbeat. This was a warning. I was somewhere I wasn’t meant to be.

Rather than one the exit however, the thing too dear to let me near in this instance was a portrait. Candace kept a lot of precious pieces of artwork in her home (right here in the lounge in fact,) but the one apparently most treasured to her was this one right here. It featured a woman, young and beautiful, with white hair and red eyes. She had with her a boy of much similar description- white hair and red eyes- happily tucked into her arms. Like the doors, getting too close set my collar off into a violent electric shock.

And now that I’d witnessed her true colors, I was beginning to see why.

My captor kicked the mop bucket to me, dragged towards it on the end of a rope. Candace stood over it, the mop like a stress ball in her palm. She seemed for the most part to be containing her rage; yet still she stood, finger on her bracelet, exasperated. Next thing I knew I was slammed face first into the mop bucket, cold and naked. There was no strength left in me to hold my breath, but that didn’t stop her from holding me there. I gasped for breath as my face hit the air after several moments, only to be shoved screaming back underwater. Drowned in agony.

I tried to fight back, really. But when your weak, cowardly hands shake within the binds trapping your wrists together… There isn’t much you can do. Powerless. All I could do was pray to her that she showed mercy.

Candace gripped me by the head, pulling me backwards by my ear tag. Chloe - the reflection read back to me- 0000 .

“It’s your job to clean my floors- especially when you fuck up and soil them. But after a stunt like that I clearly can’t trust you with your hands, let alone a sponge, so I guess you’ll just have to be my mop.”

Chest first, Candace tossed my now sobbing wet upper body onto the floor, pointing me towards the trail of blood she’d left behind her. Before I could stop her, I quickly felt my slippery body being scraped across the floor. And I was powerless to stop her. My tits did most of the mopping, feeling her grab me by the arms and drag me back and forth along the floor until the lounge was clean. Confident that she wasn’t in any danger, she risked getting just a bit closer. Candace yanked me by my hair back up and onto my knees, terrifyingly close to her face.

“Use those to dry my floors, and then we’ll move to the next room.” Candace spat, kicking me towards the heap of clothes she’d cut from my body in the corner.

This was just how my life was now. Seeing no other options, I bit down on my uniform and did just that- dried Candace’s floor with them. The threads tasted sweaty and miserable between my teeth, but they were nothing compared to the blood we’d already shed. “How does it feel to be my useless cleaning rag, slave?”

Candace didn’t even crack a smile that time, not expecting a response while my mouth was in use. She tried to keep up her usual momentum, but something just wasn’t there. All she could apparently think to do now to vent her anger was periodically step on me to impede my progress. Candace was clearly in need of a break, so she was using this opportunity to break me as well.

“Have you lost your fight already?” Candace accused, almost hoping it wasn’t true. “I knew you were stupid, weak, and pathetic- but I didn’t realize you were a coward too.”

Hearing her say that made me almost ashamed of myself. If I hadn’t already been crying, that would have done it.

“I couldn’t do it.” I admitted aloud. “I-I’m sorry for trying, but I couldn’t do it. Please, Ma’am. I’m sorry!”

She scoffed at me for that. “Do I look like I care?”

Yes- incidentally- she did. But I could never say that to her face. “Candace…”

“Don’t let me hear that name with that voice of yours. You don’t deserve to so much as breathe in my direction.” Sobbing all over again, I watched with open jaws as she approached me, shoving the sponge into my mouth to silence me before dunking my face in the mop water once more. “Get to cleaning my floors.”

Candace did her best not to bleed on the floors as she dragged me into the kitchen. Unfortunately, it was clear that she was going to need medical attention soon. This time, however, I wet the sponge myself. Angry scowls left me as I tried my best to breathe, water dripping from my now shoulder length orange hair.

I might love Candace too much to kill her, but I hadn’t lost my fight.

Subjecting myself to more of her torture, I cleaned using my body. Clearing out the dirt from the potted plant was a nightmare, but it wasn’t quite as bad as once again cleaning broken glass from the china cabinet with my mouth, now complete with pre-existing cuts on my tongue.

But regardless of the pain that came with wiping up the carnage, I cleaned up every last drop.

I knew a lot about the layout of this house, but I couldn’t know everything. Candace kept countless secrets from me, making it impossible for me to know what she’s capable of doing. She just stood over me as I slaved away- cleaning her bloodstains off of her floors just to punish me for staining her beautiful lace nightgown and damaging her perfect figure. But I could tell one thing looking into those bloodthirsty eyes of hers; she was getting ready to rape me.

Every move she made caused me to twitch nervously, ready to leap to my feet and throw myself at whatever it was going to take to get out of this hell before that happened. Anything- evidently- but killing her. Candace might have been a sweetheart compared to the rest of her family, but she was still a manipulative narcissistic gaslighting abuser. Candace is a psychopath…

And I love her.

“Please, Miss?” On my knees, I froze in place. “C-can we talk about this?”

“You want to talk now ?” She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Enraged enough to pull her riding crop from her waist, holding it like the horizon as she curled the end in her other hand. “You hide a knife and plan to kill me- your owner- and now you want to talk? About what, your feelings?!”

“You wouldn’t listen to me! I-I just… I told you I didn’t want to be sterilized, but-” Crying now, I shouted at her to understand. But I only just barely manage to get through my statement, quivering in fear at the crop her hand and the sudden violent movement it underwent.

An angry growl escaped her- like a tennis player swinging a racket; stepping forward and swinging with a fearsome backhand motion, she swatted me in the side with the crop. “What in the world is wrong with you?!”

And believe me, the pain was unbearable.

“Think with your empty fucking head for once!” Without a second of hesitation- a moment for me to recoil- Candace reeled her arm backwards and struck me once again. Even worse than the first strike, the whip cracked flat against my breast, imbuing it with the pain she must have felt. “I get what I want, Chloe. That’s how this works. If I cared about what you wanted, you wouldn’t be here! You do as I say whether you like it or not!”

Unable to bear much more of this abuse, I burst into outright sobs. Crying loudly, the tears streamed down my face, leaving me unsure of whether it was out of fear or pain. “Master, please?!”

“No. No more of this. I’m tired of you.” The words just barely registered as the crop smacked me one last time, snapping violently as she brought it down as hard as she could across my face. “You belong to me. I’m taking your body right here and right now- and I am not taking no for an answer!”

Candace whipped her foot around as I braced for another strike of the crop, kicking me in the chest and pounding me backwards onto the floor below, holding my knocked over body down under her boot as I struggled to breathe. “Please, no… I’m sorry…”

But Candace didn’t give. She reached to the bracelet strapped to her wrist, pressing the button.

Her beautiful mismatched eyes were the last things I remembered seeing before the world went black and I faded into unconsciousness.

✶ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✶

“Chloe?”

“Can you hear me?”

Slowly, the world began coming back to me- before crashing in all at once.

“Are you in there, Chloe?”

I awoke with a start, my hands bound into shackles above my head to keep me from thrashing. In my cell, dazed and confused. That voice was for some reason, strangely unfamiliar. Sitting next to me, was a man I didn’t recognize, trying to get my attention. He had light skin paired with light colored hair and dark brown eyes, which stared straight into mine.

But my attention was drawn instead past the open cell door to my right, following the sounds of Candace’s voice. Shouting.

“Thanks for finally doing your job, Malcolm.”

“What the fuck was I supposed to do- tackle her to the ground?”

“That’s kind of what you’re known to do, you aren’t exactly the brightest tool in the shed.”

“Well excuse me for wanting to be something other than brute force for once. You’re supposed to be my mentor-”

“And you’re supposed to watch her!”

“Watch her do what, run away from you?” Their voices continued to raise, finding themselves in the middle of a very heated argument. “I activated the house alarm. I made sure all of the exits were locked. I called for help. What else was I supposed to do in that situation?”

“You’re supposed to watch her and make sure she’s not up to anything. Your job is to prevent this from happening in the first place.”

“I didn’t give her the fucking knife, Candace!” Malcolm snapped, defending himself. “She’s a weasel! You should know that better than anyone. This is your fault!”

“How is this my fault?!”

“You let your libido get the better of you and allowed her to trick you into getting close. You have safeguards against this kind of thing. You’re supposed to keep your distance and leave her restrained, but that doesn’t work when you don’t use them properly!”

“Don’t you dare-” Candace began, before quickly being cut off by the other new voice.

“Hey!” The man that I still didn’t recognize spoke up, audibly annoyed by the argument happening between the two of them. “Knock it off, she’s awake.”

The man, strange as it was to be meeting someone new, looked to me and smiled. It was clearly in an attempt to try and reassure me, but it didn’t really do much good. He was apparently examining me all over to make sure that I was alright.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He quickly said, taking my attention onto him. “Can you see and hear me alright?”

Candace approached the cell, scoffing angrily. “She’s no sweetheart!”

Hearing her talk bad about me was a bit too much for me right now. Desperate to apologize, I stuttered nervously, beginning to choke up. “I-I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

“Quiet.” Candace quickly shushed me, turning to her friend. “How does she look?”

“She’s got a concussion.” The man responded despondently. “But she’s not bleeding anywhere- inside or out- at least from what I can tell. Which is good, but it’s still probably not a good idea to put her back to work.”

“I’m more worried about the operation.”

The new man, apparently the person to go to for that, shook his head. “We clearly can’t operate on her like this, Candace. It’s going to have to be pushed back.”

“For how long?” Candace grew visually annoyed, crossing her arms in anger.

“Two weeks. Just to make sure she’s okay.” He spoke in a hushed tone. “We can’t do the operation if she’s… you know…”

Candace’s face quickly turned red as she scowled, glancing towards me for just a moment. “She’s not!”

“Well you’d better make sure she’s not.”

“I am sure.”

“Still.” He reasserted himself. “You’ll need to wait two weeks anyways. That’s our next available appointment.”

“And what am I supposed to do tomorrow?”

He stopped, taking a good moment to eye the gash in Candace’s bosom before looking her in the eyes again. “I’d suggest getting that looked at.”

“…Alright.” Candace quickly tried to cover it up, sighing to herself. “Thanks for doing this off the books for me.”

“I’m only here because you’re Malcolm’s boss.”

“No. You’re here because I’m your boss.”

“No. I work for your brother. He’s my boss, not you.”

“And you’re this close to not being my boss anymore, either.” An irritated Malcolm snapped at her, still upset.

“Oh please.” Candace rolled her eyes. “Where would you go without me?”

“I’m leaving with Anthony.” Malcolm huffed. Anthony. That was the other man’s name. “You can catch me some other time, I’m taking tomorrow off.”

“Okay. See you next week.” Candace seemed to linger on that for a moment, before rolling her eyes and nodding. I watched as everyone else shuffled out of the cell, allowing Candace to finally take her place looming over me. “And where did you get the knife, Chloe?”

Honesty was the best policy here. Swallowing nervously, I knew if I told her how, I wouldn’t be getting the chance to do it again. And that was fine by me, I just hoped she wasn’t about to hit me again. “During the afterparty. S-someone left it in the dishwasher… I hid it under the sink while no one was looking…”

Candace blinked with confusion for a moment before- guiltily- her face turned red. “Leah. That makes sense…”

“I bloody told you.” Malcolm spoke up, still cross. “And you can’t really blame Leah either. It’s not her fault her boyfriend’s been neglecting her. She was even nice enough to fill in for your slave while you were busy parading her around the house like a dog just to make it up for you after accidentally blabbing about the surgery.”

“Right. I’m sorry.” Candace sighed, nodding her head to him silently. “You’re excused.”

Sensing the tension, the medic spoke up. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep her at the facility just to be safe?”

“Don’t bother.” She replied as she waved the two of them off. “She’s not leaving this cell until the surgery anyways. I can handle myself.”

“Fair enough.” He frowned, taking Malcolm by the arm. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. But I won’t need it.”

Candace’s house quickly emptied itself of any guests. Leaving the two of us alone together once again.

“Good game, Chloe. But you lose this time.”

My eyes followed hers as they left mine. Hidden behind that veil of blue once more, Candace’s eyes locked with another. A tightness in my chest knotted itself into being as I watched Candace pick her up, stealing from me my only friend. That stuffed border collie my mother made for me- my name stitched into her ear- my Poppy.

And she took it.

After everything I’d gone through today, I didn’t imagine it could get worse. But it had, and there was nothing I could do about it.

“I… I’m sorry Candace-”

Growling, my mistress held her riding crop to my face, ready to strike me. “What did I say?! Did I tell you to speak my name again?!”

“No, Master!” My eyes pinched, correcting myself. “I’m sorry, Master! I won’t do it again, I promise!”

Feeling Candace lower the crop, I slowly looked up to her again. “I believe you. But only because you won’t have another opportunity like that again-”

“Give me another chance, Master. I’m begging you…” Hung to the wall by chains, I did my best to grovel. “I know I hurt you, but I learned something about myself today…”

Stunned by the sudden fight in me, Candace used the riding crop to tilt my head up. “And that is?”

Filled with indignation, I swallowed my pride and let my tears roll down my cheeks. “I love you too much to kill you.”

Her eyes went wide at the sound of that. Imagine that, she was finally getting what she wanted. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do.” At least I thought I did as the tears flew from my eyes, nodding. “You have to believe me…”

The crop retracted itself. Candace’s eyes slowly drifted down from mine, gazing past my breasts and towards my navel. There they rested for a moment, lost in thought. “And why should I do that?”

“Because if I could kill you, you’d be dead.” I mumbled back, eyes still full of tears. “Just like Sophia.”

A wicked fury overtook her at just the mention of that woman’s name, even more than her own. Searing pain was all I was met with, feeling the whip land once again straight across my face, ridding my eyes of what tears I still had left.

“Don’t you dare…” She was the one with tears now. “You don’t deserve to speak her name either…”

Ferocious heat built up in my chest as she said that, only serving to beat into my head how little I really meant to her. “Yes, Master… I’m sorry…”

Raging pain choked me from inside, my cheek hot with terror. I’d been her biggest fan for so long, but I never could figure out just how she felt towards that girl, and it ate away at me from the inside.

Her tears fell onto the bandages around her hand as she wiped them away. “Anything else you have to say for yourself, slave?”

“Y-yes, Ma’am… May I ask-” My voice cracked desperately. “Did you… have sex with me… while I was-”

“Yes.” She responded, almost proud of that fact. “Yes, I did. It’s too bad you weren’t there. We both would have loved it.”

Something about hearing her say that… It broke me. “I’m sorry…”

“Good. That means you’ve learned your lesson.”

For just a few moments, she lowered herself to my level. Her eyes now drifted upwards from my belly as she pressed the palm of her gashed hand against it, looking me in the eyes. Candace made sure- with all of her might- that I could see the pain in her heart.

And then spat in my face.

There were no goodnights exchanged after that. Only my owner rising to her feet and storming off, making sure to slam the heavy metal door shut behind her.

“Enjoy the rest of your miserable life, Chloe. I hope it was worth it.”