John continued to walk, his pace unhurried, dragging the girl behind him by the leash. She moved like an animal, her hands scraping the rough cobblestones, her body trembling with the humiliation of it all. The leash tugged at her neck, forcing her to follow without question, her thoughts a swirling mix of defiance and fear.
He stopped again, this time at the mouth of a darkened alley, where the shadows seemed to stretch and swallow everything. It was quieter here, the sounds of the marketplace muffled, and John took a moment to savor the stillness before he turned to face her.
"Look at me," he commanded coldly.
The girl hesitated for a moment, her head lowered, but she obeyed. She lifted her eyes, and for a brief second, John saw the remnants of her humanity in those dark, defiant eyes.
"Good," he murmured, his voice like ice. "Now, listen carefully. From now on, you are not human. You are nothing but my pet. Your name, your identity, it's gone. You're not even worthy of being called anything anymore. You will only respond to what I say."
Her heart raced in her chest, panic rising. She opened her mouth, as if to protest, but John was already ahead of her.
"No words," he snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. "Your name is gone. You will never speak again. From now on, you will only bark. Like the animal you are. You're nothing but a thing, a tool to be used. Do you understand?"
She stared up at him, trembling, her lips parted as though she might speak, but the collar around her neck constricted with the slightest tug of the leash. The pressure forced her into silence.
John's eyes were cold and piercing as he leaned down to her level, his face mere inches from hers. "From now on," he continued, his words dripping with malice, "your name will be Bitch. And that's the only thing you'll answer to. Do you understand?"
The girl's chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, but she didn't respond. The weight of his words pressed down on her, crushing her spirit little by little. She was nothing now. Not a person. Not a girl. Just an object to obey.
John smirked, his fingers tightening around the leash. "Good. Now, I want you to bark. Show me your obedience."
Her eyes filled with something—perhaps fear, perhaps humiliation—but there was no escape. She could feel the leash pulling at her neck, the weight of her new identity pressing down on her, suffocating her. She opened her mouth, and despite herself, a sound escaped—a low, pitiful bark.
John's smirk widened, and he straightened up, clearly satisfied. "That's better. You're learning quickly. We'll get along just fine."
He tugged on the leash again, pulling her along behind him as though she were a stray dog, the sound of her pitiful barks echoing in the empty alley.
John stopped once more, his expression cold and unamused. He looked down at the girl, still crawling on all fours, her body shaking with the weight of his domination. The leash in his hand tightened slightly, a silent reminder that she was his, and that she had no choice but to obey.
He tilted his head, studying her with a cold, calculating gaze. "Bitch," he said, his voice soft, but the cruelty in it was undeniable. "Bark twice."
The girl's eyes flickered up to his, a momentary flash of defiance in her gaze, but the collar around her neck was a constant reminder of her new reality. She hesitated, the weight of the command hanging in the air like an unspoken threat.
John's fingers tightened on the leash, pulling it slightly to ensure she felt his presence, his control. "Do not make me repeat myself. Bark. Twice."
The command was final, and the girl knew there was no room for resistance. Her chest heaved with the strain of swallowing her pride, but in the end, she complied. A low, reluctant bark slipped from her throat, followed by another, more pitiful than the first.
John's lips curled into a thin, satisfied smile as he watched her struggle. She was breaking, bit by bit, just like all the others. Her humanity was slipping away with every bark, every movement, every humiliating command he gave her.
"Good," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "That's all you are now. Nothing but an animal."
He tugged on the leash, forcing her to crawl behind him once again. Each step she took was another reminder of her new place in the world—a world where she existed only to obey him. The leash was taut in his hand, and he could feel her desperation, the trembling of her body as she crawled along the ground, reduced to nothing more than his pet.
The walk to John's home was quiet, save for the sound of her scraping hands and knees against the cobblestones. The leash tugged every now and then, guiding her along as though she were no more than a stray animal, her every step dictated by his will. The crowds that lined the streets of Vallu glanced at them briefly, but no one dared to intervene. In a city like this, such sights were common—slaves were owned, controlled, and degraded in ways that few even questioned.
When they reached his home, John led her through the heavy iron gate and into the yard. It was a small, walled-off space, bordered with a few low shrubs and patches of dirt. The yard was devoid of decoration, a place for practicality rather than comfort. To anyone else, it might have seemed barren, but to John, it was the perfect space for training his new pet.
The moment they stepped inside, John halted, turning to face her. He watched her closely, his eyes sharp and calculating, as she struggled to keep herself upright. The collar around her neck was still taut, pulling her head slightly downward, forcing her to look at the ground as if awaiting his next command.
"Sit," he ordered, his voice harsh and firm.
The girl's body stiffened, and for a moment, she froze. Her mind screamed at her to resist, but she was trapped—trapped by the leash around her neck, trapped by the weight of his control. Slowly, she lowered herself onto her knees, then adjusted her body to sit on her haunches, her hands resting on her thighs.
John nodded in approval, stepping closer to her, the sound of his boots crunching against the gravel underfoot. His fingers brushed the leash, tightening it slightly as he leaned down. "Good girl," he murmured, his tone dripping with mock sweetness. "You're learning your place."
He took a moment to look around the yard, as if considering what came next. "This is where you'll spend most of your time," he said coldly, his gaze shifting back to her. "When you're not being useful to me inside, you'll stay here. The yard is where you belong. It's where animals like you are kept."
The girl didn't respond, but the look in her eyes was enough to let him know that her mind was still fighting, still clinging to whatever shreds of hope or resistance it could grasp. John smiled to himself, enjoying the sight of her struggle.
He knelt in front of her, keeping the leash tight in his grip, forcing her to look up at him. "This is your life now, pet. No more pride. No more thoughts of escape. You exist to serve me. Understand?"
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. She remained silent, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths.
"Good," he said, satisfied with her submission. "Now, I want you to stay here. I'll be watching you, and I expect you to show me how well you've learned."
John stood and turned to leave, pulling the leash behind him. "If you move without my permission, you'll regret it," he called over his shoulder, his voice sharp. "Stay, pet. Stay and wait."
With that, he walked away, leaving her alone in the yard, her body trembling as she struggled to accept the cage that had been built around her. She could feel the weight of the leash pulling her down, keeping her grounded in her new, humiliating reality.