11 minutes 35 seconds

• 11 minutes 35 seconds late, ****, do you know what that means?

I nodded; saying anything would only make things worse. I saw my sister's evil smile, delighted by her bad joke. She lifted my head, grabbing my red hair.

"Eleven minutes and thirty-five is a long time to make up," she murmured, twisting my hair tighter around her fingers until my scalp screamed with tension. Her nails dug into the back of my neck, tracing burning lines as she **** me to look at the wall clock, its mocking ticking matching the erratic beating of my heart.

There was a metallic clink; she had taken something out of her pocket.

She replaced my collar with one with a battery on the side, an electric training collar.

• From now on, in addition to the punishments, every violation will be punished with an electric shock commensurate with the offense. My daughter inflicts 12 seconds of electric shock, she said, turning her gaze toward my sister.

The cold metal of the collar closed around my neck with an ominous click. A high-pitched buzzing rose in my ears—the charger was activating. My sister adjusted the dial with a blood-red nail, her dilated pupils reflecting my face, contorted with terror.

"Twelve seconds, you little bitch," she whispered, running her tongue over her teeth.

The shock threw me forward as if I'd been struck from my throat to my shoulder blades. These were the longest 12 seconds I writhed on the ground, begging.

The tension mounted again—a searing flash of pain that locked my jaw, my scream caught between my teeth. Saliva dripped onto the wooden floor as my body convulsed, the collar's electrodes biting deeper with each spasm. Through my blurred vision, I saw her polished boots approach, the tips brushing against my ribs where the lace of the maid's corset had come undone, revealing my left breast.

• Tsk. Only eight seconds and you're already shaking like a broken doll, she sighed, crouching down to tighten the chain between my ankles, here are the last four."

I was about to beg when I was struck again.

A hoarse scream burst from my throat, muffled by the current that knotted my muscles like barbed wire. My fingers clawed at the parquet floor, nails breaking on the varnished wood, while my spine arched under the shock. The necklace crackled, injecting every second of agony into my raw nerves.

My sister burst out laughing, a crystalline sound that mingled with the electric crackle. When it stopped, my sister put her hand over her mouth as if she'd done something stupid.

• Oops, 6 seconds, okay, no problem, it's a gift from the house.

The last bursts of current dissipated in an agonizing crackle, leaving my skin covered with shivers. violent. My raspy breaths pounded against the metal of the necklace, each inhalation burning like crushed glass.

My mother looked at my sister with an amused yet predatory expression.

• You're definitely a naughty girl, Lilou, but be careful not to join your sister where she fell.

My sister blanched and bowed her head; it was the only comforting moment of the day, for she didn't take the same pleasure in being treated like this as I did.

My mother slid a hand under my chin, her crimson nails digging pale moons into my damp skin.

"Look at me."

My vision was still shaky from the shock, but I obeyed, feeling a hot tear trickle down my cheek. Her smile widened, slowly, like a blade being drawn from a sheath.

• Twelve seconds was kind. Next time, it'll be twenty.

A shiver ran through me, colder than the discharges.

• Tonight we have colleagues of your father's. You will be at their complete service. Whatever they ask, you will obey, understood. You can rest in your room. You must be in good shape when the bell rings. You will have half an hour to join us in the other maid's outfit that you will find downstairs. You will put on the high-heeled shoes and the chain to restrain your ankles. Understood? I'll take care of the meal you will serve.

I nodded, too exhausted to form words, still feeling the last vibrations of the current running through my aching muscles. Her nails dug deeper under my chin, forcing me to utter a hoarse "Yes, Mommy" before she finally released her grip and slapped me.

• Sorry, yes, mistress.

The icy wooden floor bit into my knees as I tried to sit up, my trembling fingers gripping the edge of the table to help me up.