Tracey should take the collar off before she goes to school tomorrow. (Warning: sexual in Tracey’s history. Don’t follow this branch if that’s a trigger for you, or you just won't enjoy a dark turn.)

You sigh and shake your head. “It would be way too much for people to handle, seeing me go from nervous dork to master overnight. We don’t really need that kind of attention. Plus, it’ll make it easier for you to talk to your girlfriend if you aren’t wearing it. You should take it off before you go to school tomorrow,” you tell Tracey.

The pretty blonde smiles wistfully and holds the shiny tag on her collar in her fingers. “You’re right, Master. I’d like to wear it all the time once we’re done with high school and can start being our true selves. That’s… if you want me to,” she adds, sounding a little insecure.

“I think that would be amazing.” You reassure her. You give her thigh a squeeze.

Soon you’re pulling up in front of Tracey’s house. You park and walk her to the door. “I wish I could come in for a while, but I have to get Abbie’s car back to her,” you tell your pet as you turn to face her on the front steps.

Tracey nods. “I’m sorry we can’t spend more time together, Master.” She stands close to you. Her hand strokes over your chest. “I should probably get a chance to talk to my mom before you meet her anyway. Finding out about you is going to be a big surprise for her.” You lean in and give Tracey a long goodbye kiss, then head back to the car.

When you get home, Abbie has more questions about how you met Tracey and ended up bringing her home. You stick to the truth as much as possible, she came up to you at lunch, you asked her to come over to study, you didn’t really study, etc. You just leave out the small detail that you mind-controlled Tracey into being your sex-**** with a magic spell. Abbie seems happy for you, but still unsatisfied with your answers. You can tell she’s suspicious, but think she’s suspicious of Tracey’s motives, not yours.

Soon your mother gets home. As you and Abbie help mom make dinner, and Abbie mentions that you’ve got a girlfriend now and had her over for a study date today. Mom smiles wide. “That’s such great news, honey. I’d love to meet her some time soon.” She says. She sounds very happy, if a little surprised. You suspect she was worried about you ever getting a girlfriend, due to how shy you’ve always been.

You have dinner and make some small talk. Abbie leaves for work, and you and mom watch some TV. Just a little while after your mother heads up to her bedroom, your doorbell rings. You answer it and see Tracey in tears on your front steps.

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Come in.” You take her hand and guide her inside.

“It’s my mom. She freaked out about the collar.” Tracey sobs.

You notice she’s still wearing it. From upstairs you hear your mother’s voice. “Who’s at the door, honey? Is everything ok?” You hear her footsteps in the upstairs hall.

“Take it off,” you tell Tracey quickly. There’s no need to have two upset moms. She swiftly removes it, and hands it to you. You jam it into your pocket as your mom appears at the top of the stairs.

“Mom…” you turn to look up the stairs at her, “this is Tracey. My girlfriend. I think she had a fight with her mom, and she’s upset.”

Your mother looks concerned. “I see.” She sounds a little put out. You realize her concern is for you, not Tracey. You know it’s not a good look for your girlfriend to show up late at night crying hysterically on the first day you’re dating. This is more drama than your mom is going to want around you.

“We’ll get it all sorted out, mom. You can just go back to bed. I’m sure it’s not such a big deal. I’ll have a talk with Tracey in the family room, help get her calmed down.”

You mother nods. “If you need anything, let me know,” she says. “I hope everything works out for you… Tracey.”

You put an arm around Tracey’s shoulder and guide her to the family room. “I’m sor… sorry, Master,” she sniffles quietly. “I had to get away. Had to come see you.”

You settle her on the couch and sit next to her. “You’re shaking. Why are you so upset? What happened?” you ask.

“My mom… she wants to have me committed.” Tracey whispers in a rasp. “I could see she wasn’t happy about the collar but didn’t really say anything about it. Then she looked at the tag and saw your name. When she saw a man’s name, she exploded. She thinks I have PTSD, and that you’re abusing me. She was going to take me in for a psychiatric evaluation, so I ran away. Ran to you.”

You blink in surprise. “Abusing you? Wait… why would she think you have PTSD?”

The crying girl shakes her head. “There’s… something that happened to me, a while ago. Mom thinks I’m having a breakdown over it, and that’s the only reason I’m with you.”

You can understand a mom being upset about her daughter wearing a dog collar and a tag that says her name is pet, but jumping right to a psychiatric evaluation seems over the top. You wonder what made Tracey’s mom react so badly, and why a man’s name would set it off. “Tell me why she thinks that. What happened? I want to help you if I can.”

Tracey hesitates. When you see how much of a struggle it is for her to speak, you wonder if you should have commanded her to, but she finally gets her words to come. “I… I’ll tell you everything that happened.” She gulps in a breath. “My mom and dad have been divorced forever. I used to split my time between them, 50/50. Dad didn’t take it so well when I came out though. He started getting angry with me a lot. I spent less time with him, but still stayed with him some weekends. One night, a little after my eighteenth birthday, I was at his place. He drank too much.” She shudders. Her voice drops in volume. “He… assaulted me.” She must see the look of shock on your face. “It wasn’t… didn’t… I didn't admit to my mom, or even to myself, that it was really ****.” She insists. “But it was bad. Mom wanted to press charges. I couldn’t… I didn’t want everyone to know. Didn’t want anyone to know. Didn’t want to have to think about it.”

You don’t know what to say. You put your arm around Tracey and hold her while she shivers. She leans hard into you and hugs you tightly. “Mom thinks I’m really messed up from it. Thinks you’re taking advantage of me. That my wanting to be your **** is just my fucked-up way of avoiding dealing with trauma.” She shakes her head. “It’s not though. I can’t let her put me away. Take me away from you.”

Fuck! This could be bad. Your mind freezes for a moment, then floods with thoughts. You don’t know how the effects of the spell would look to a psychiatrist evaluating Tracey. Technically, she isn’t in her right mind, is she? Dammit, you remember the website said her obsession with you would get worse if she’s denied contact with you. If she’s put in a psychiatric hold, the symptoms get worse. Then they’ll keep her longer, and the obsession gets even worse. FUCK!

You need to fix this. The only way is to keep Tracey’s mom from taking her for that eval. You don’t think you could convince her with reason though. The situation isn’t reasonable. You take a deep breath in a failed attempt to regain your calm.“OK… here’s what you have to do. It’s going to sound a little crazy, but you have to do exactly what I say. Do you understand?”

Tracey nods, and sniffs. “Of course, I’ll do anything you say. I know you can do something to fix all this, Master.”

“First, stop calling me Master, until this is dealt with and I tell you it’s ok.” You clench your hands to keep them from shaking. “I’m going to drive you back to your house, and you’re going to apologize to your mom for running out. Tell her that she was right. Say you were acting crazy, and you can see it now.”

Tracey shakes her head at that. “Wanting to be yours isn’t crazy,” she insists, “but I’ll do what you say.”

You continue, “Say anything you need to, to calm your mother down and get her to believe you don’t have to go to an emergency psych evaluation tonight. Say you really need to sleep and you’ll go with her to an appointment with a counselor in the morning. OK?” She nods.

“Then, when she’s calmed down… get a strand of her hair. Maybe from her hairbrush. Don’t let her see you take it. Go to the bathroom and sneak it to me through the window. Got it? That’s all. It’s important that you convince your mother that you don’t need to see a psychiatrist tonight, and that you get me a strand of her hair.” Your heart is pounding. “In the morning, I’ll be able to fix everything.”

Tracey looks confused, but she replies. “I’ll do it. I know you’ll make this all right.”

You feel unsteady on your feet as you get up from the couch. “Come on. Let’s go.” Tracey looks shaky as she stands too.

You call up the stairs. “Mom… I’m going to borrow the car to drive Tracey home. She’s calmed down, and ready to talk to her mom now.” You grab the keys and hurry out the door before your mom can reply.

You take Tracey to her house, drive a few houses down to park, then walk back and sneak into her back yard. You hear a woman’s raised voice from inside, but after a while there’s calm. You stand in the dark waiting, until you see a light come on in a bathroom window. Tracey raises the window, and you rush over. You put a finger to your lips to let her know to keep quiet, take the hair from her, and hurry back home.

As you pull up the website, you realize how out of control the situation has gotten, but you don’t see any other way to save Tracey. You light the candle and recite the chant. You try to concentrate but all you have to work with is ‘Tracey’s mom’. You forgot to ask for a picture or even her name. You hope the hair is enough to make it work.

When you’re done, you lie down in your bed. You set your alarm to get up early, but you can’t fall asleep for what seems like hours, and you get barely any sleep before it wakes you from a troubling dream.

You ride your bike to Tracey’s house, because you don’t want to wake your mom or Abbie pulling a car out of the driveway. As you walk up to the house, you try to come up with some plan for exactly what you are going to say and do.