New Task

Julia sat on the edge of the bed, towel still loosely knotted around her damp body, the steam from the shower clinging to her skin. She tapped open the message from Master, heart already sinking before her eyes even focused on the words.

Master: Morning, slut. Time for your next assignment. Convince Riley to text this number. Tell her it's some hot older guy from her school, a senior she's been eyeing, whatever lie works. Make it flirty. Make it happen ASAP.

Julia's stomach dropped. The same request from last night—the one she'd begged off, the one that had led to Ethan's cock down her throat and then pounding her on her marital bed. She'd thought she'd bought herself time, but here it was again, sharper, more insistent. Her thumbs shook as she typed back.

I can't, Master. Please. Not my daughter. Anything else—I'll do anything else. Just not this.

The reply came almost instantly, as if he'd been waiting.

Master: Anything else? Cute. But we both know that's not how this works anymore. Remember the collection? The videos? The photos? Tony stretching your cheating cunt, my cock **** you in my office, that college boy railing you face-down on the bed you share with your pathetic husband. One email to William and your perfect life ends. One anonymous tip to the school board about your "parental involvement" and Riley's expulsion becomes the least of your worries. This isn't a one-time favor, Mrs. Edwards. You're mine now—body, obedience, and whatever holes I want to fill. If you don't want your husband seeing every filthy second of your fall from grace, you'll do exactly as I say. Convince the girl. Or I start sending.

Julia stared at the screen until the words blurred. ****. Permanent. No escape. The gallery he'd built—her degradation documented, timestamped, weaponized—meant she couldn't run, couldn't fight, couldn't even pretend this was temporary anymore. She was in too deep, and the headmaster held every rope. Her pussy clenched traitorously at the thought, shame and fear twisting into that dark, familiar heat she hated herself for feeling.

She typed back, fingers numb.

Okay. I'll do it. I'll convince her.

Master: Good girl. Don't disappoint me. Proof. And remember—every time you obey, you sink deeper. Enjoy it, slut.

Julia set the phone down with a soft clatter, breath shallow. She stood, letting the towel fall to the floor, naked and still flushed from the shower. She crossed to her walk-in closet, pulling out a simple sundress—something modest enough for the day ahead but fitted enough to remind her of the body she'd traded away piece by piece. She slipped it on, zipped it up, ran a brush through her damp hair, trying to rebuild the mask of the perfect housewife even as her mind raced with how to manipulate Riley without breaking her completely.

A soft knock at the door. It cracked open before she could answer.

Riley poked her head in, still in her sleep shirt, hair wild from the morning's chaos, expression a mix of lingering annoyance and teenage nonchalance. "Mom? You okay? That whole thing with Nick was disgusting, but… whatever. You need anything before I head down for breakfast?"

Julia **** a smile, turning to face her daughter, the weight of Master's command already pressing on her chest like a stone. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Just getting ready. Come in for a sec—I want to talk to you about something."