As they stepped out of the slave market and into the bustling streets of Vallu, John slowed his pace. The girl, now in his possession, walked beside him, her body tense, eyes darting around as if searching for an escape. But there was nowhere to run.
He stopped abruptly in the middle of the road, his boots grinding to a halt against the cobblestone. The hustle of the market continued around them, but John's focus was entirely on her. She stood there, stiff, unsure of what to do next.
John's eyes never left her. He could feel the defiance in her, a small, flickering flame of resistance. But he wasn't concerned. She would learn.
"Walk on all fours," he commanded, his voice quiet but firm, like the crack of a whip. There was no question in his tone, no hint of negotiation.
The girl froze, her eyes flashing with surprise and a mix of horror. For a brief moment, she stood tall, as if challenging him to repeat the order. She opened her mouth, perhaps to protest, but John's gaze silenced her before a single word could escape.
"I said walk on all fours," he repeated, his voice colder now, tinged with a dangerous edge. "You will do as you're told, or I'll make you regret it."
The words were soft, but the menace in them hung in the air, thick and suffocating. John knew the power he held, and it was time for her to understand that too.
The girl's shoulders sagged slightly, her defiance faltering. Slowly, she dropped to her knees, then hesitated before lowering herself further, her palms pressed against the rough stone of the road. She could barely meet his gaze, her body trembling, the fight still alive in her—but she would learn, just like the others.
John watched her carefully, his smile turning almost sadistic. "Good girl," he murmured, his tone low and mocking. "That wasn't so difficult, was it?"
Passersby glanced over at the unusual sight, but no one stopped. In Vallu, this was common—slaves were nothing more than tools, and John had made it clear that she was his. The eyes of the crowd passed over her like she was no more significant than a beggar or a stray animal.
He turned on his heel, starting to walk again, his pace slow, deliberate. "Now, keep up," he ordered, his voice carrying an air of finality.
The girl followed behind him, her knees scraping against the rough stones, her hands gripping the ground for support. Every movement was a reminder of the control he held over her, and each step she took made the weight of her submission heavier.
John's smile lingered as he glanced over his shoulder, watching her struggle. She would break. He had all the time in the world.
As they continued down the crowded street, John's gaze never wavered. The sound of her hands scraping against the cobblestones was a subtle reminder that her dignity had already begun to crumble. She was nothing but a tool now, an object to be used.
He stopped again, this time in front of a narrow alley, the dim light casting long shadows on the stone walls. The bustling noise of the marketplace began to fade as he turned to face her. She had barely kept up, her breath coming in shallow gasps, but there was no sympathy in his eyes.
John knelt down to her level, his eyes cold and calculating. The girl looked up at him, defiance still sparking in her gaze, though it was weaker now. She was struggling to hold onto whatever humanity she had left, but John would strip that from her, just as he had done with countless others before her.
"From today," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper but carrying the weight of a command, "you are no longer human. You are my pet."
Her eyes widened in shock, her mouth opening as though to speak, but John quickly silenced her with a sharp gesture.
"No more names. No more dignity. You will live to serve me, nothing more. Understand?" He said it as though it was a simple truth, something as natural as breathing. His tone was final, and the way he said it left no room for argument.
The girl's chest heaved, her hands shaking as she looked at him, the fight in her eyes still flickering but no longer with the same fire. She knew, deep down, that she had no choice but to obey.
John watched her carefully, waiting for her response. He wanted her to break without words, to know in her bones what she was now. His smile didn't soften; it only grew darker.
"You will crawl when I command it. You will stay silent when I tell you. You will exist only for me, and you will beg for the privilege."
She trembled, the weight of his words sinking in like a heavy stone pressing down on her chest. There was no escape. Not now. Not ever.
John turned away, walking down the alley as if the whole encounter meant nothing to him. "Come along, pet," he called over his shoulder, his voice laced with a mocking sweetness. "It's time to get you used to your new life."
The girl followed, still on all fours, her mind reeling with the reality of her fate. She was nothing now—nothing but an object to serve and be controlled. And John would make sure she learned that lesson well.
John's steps were measured as he walked ahead, the click of his boots on the cobblestones echoing in the alley. The girl, still on all fours, scrambled to keep up with him, her breath ragged, the weight of her new reality settling on her shoulders like an unshakable burden. She could feel the roughness of the stone against her palms and knees, and every time she struggled, she was reminded of how far she had fallen.
John didn't look back at her as he walked, but he didn't need to. He could hear the faint sound of her movement behind him, her body struggling to keep pace with the harsh new world he had forced upon her.
He stopped in the middle of the alley and turned to face her, his gaze cold, appraising, like one would examine a new possession. She was trembling now, her defiance slowly being smothered by the weight of his control. Her eyes avoided his, staring down at the ground, but John wasn't finished.
He reached into the small bag slung over his shoulder, his fingers brushing against the smooth leather of the leash. He had thought of this moment—had planned it, knew it would come. The leash wasn't just a physical restraint; it was a symbol, a reminder of her place. She was no longer a person to him. She was just an animal to be controlled.
John pulled the leash out slowly, the leather sliding through his fingers with an almost ceremonial grace. He stepped forward, his eyes never leaving hers, and without a word, he dropped to one knee in front of her.
She recoiled slightly as he reached for her neck, her hands instinctively moving to block him, but John was too quick. He grabbed her roughly, his fingers tightening around the back of her head, forcing her to look up at him. Her heart raced as she met his cold eyes, and she could see the finality in his expression—there would be no escape.
Without a hint of hesitation, he placed the leather collar around her neck, the cold metal clasp clicking shut as he tightened it. The leash hung loosely in his hand, waiting.
From now on, she would walk as he commanded. She would be his pet, and he would lead her wherever he pleased.
John stood, tugging gently on the leash, pulling her towards him. "From now on," he said, his voice a low, calculated whisper, "you will walk on all fours, just like the animal you are. Do you understand?"
The girl's chest rose and fell with panic, her hands trembling at her sides. She opened her mouth, as though to speak, but the collar around her neck tightened slightly with the pull of the leash, forcing her to silence herself.
John took a step back, studying her with a mix of amusement and cold satisfaction. "You'll learn to love your place, pet. You'll come to crave the obedience. But for now, you'll walk."
With a sharp tug on the leash, he began to walk, pulling her along behind him like a stray dog on a leash. The girl had no choice but to follow, her hands and knees scraping against the rough stones of the alley as she crawled behind him, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
The leash was a constant reminder of her powerlessness—of what she had become. But John knew that it was only the beginning. She would break, just like the others. And when she did, she would be his in every way.