A Chain of Submission

As they walked through the narrow, dimly lit streets, Bill finally stopped, gripping Toy’s collar firmly and forcing her to look up at him. His gaze was steely, his voice was firm, his eyes filled with an impatience she’d never seen before.

_“Listen up, Toy,” he said, voice sharp and unyielding. “You’re not my equal anymore. You’re not a human, not a friend. You’re an oni now—my ****. And as my ****, you will call me ‘Maestre.’ Do you understand?”_

Toy swallowed, the words catching in her throat. She wanted to protest, to remind him that she was still Fred somewhere beneath the surface. But his glare left no room for argument, no space for anything but submission. Trembling, she finally replied, stumbling over each syllable.

“Y-yes, Maestre…” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with the foreign sounds her oni mouth could barely shape. “Brill... I’m—mre thran thris... I’m nrot equal, r-right?”

Bill’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, nodding as he tightened his grip on the collar. “Exactly. You’ll learn your place, Toy. This collar isn’t just for show; it’s a reminder of who you are now. Don’t forget it.”

Toy’s heart sank. She could feel the weight of his words, pressing down on her as heavily as the collar itself. She knew that her position was clear: she was no longer a human, no longer Fred—just a subhuman ****. Her life, her words, even her thoughts were to be obedient to her new master.

Here in the plaza, under the judgmental stares of passing humans, she was nothing more than a subhuman. Just another ****.

_“Y-yes, Maestre… I underrstand,” _she replied, her voice shaking, each word slipping clumsily from her mouth.

“Good,” Bill replied with a satisfied nod. “Remember, Toy—you’re to serve without question. Out here, anyone who sees you won’t see you as anything other than what you are. You have no rights. No power. Just obedience. Now, keep up.”

Toy took a deep breath, her heart pounding. Any glimmer of defiance faded as she realized that every passerby who looked at her saw only what Bill had shaped her into—no rights, no status, just a being to serve. As they moved through the streets, Toy cast her gaze downward, acutely aware of her helplessness. Each step reminded her that she was now nothing more than property, with no one who could—or would—see her as anything more.

Her world had shrunk down to this narrow, submissive life, where each small mistake could mean punishment and each moment of silence only reminded her of the freedom she had lost forever. And now, as she followed him through the crowd, she knew that any disobedience could easily bring punishment, with no one there to defend her.