I threw on a dress with new pair of underwear and made it past lunch without talking, keeping my head down. Hailie must've noticed my quietness because I occasionally caught her glancing at me, but she must've chalked it up to me being sad that my favorite maid was going in three days.

Me and Eirlys had an awkward 15 seconds of eye contact where neither of us said anything.

When it was finally over, I went straight back to my room. The air there was still and dry, carrying the faint scent of filth that was quicky cleaned away, probably by Anshur during the meal.

I turned to my bed, and widened my eyes.

On the nightstand lay, surprisingly, the shock color—black, glossy, its little metal contacts catching the light—with the small clicker sitting right beside it like a matching accessory.

"..."

Her words echoed in my mind, something about she had taken the batteries out and I still responded to the shock.

No, no way she had Pavlov me, it is just unthinkable.

For reasons even I didn't understand, I picked it up and turned it over in my hands. The clicker was lighter than I remembered, the weight uneven. I opened the latch, checked the inside, and saw that indeed, Anshur had taken the batteries out.

"Fuck you," I muttered, feeling a stupid pang of disappointment. I set it down again and fell backward onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Though, my innards were itching for some reason, so I decided to let my curiousity went wild.

My eyes drifted to the collar, and I strapped it on my neck, before holding up the small, black piece of plastic with a single button.

Just one click, for Christ's sake, what could it hurt?

click

Nothing happened, yet my body didn't believe that, my eyes twitched for a second, absolutely feeling something from that sound cue, or the fact that the punishment device was on my neck, probably a cumilation of both factors.

Is this what the fetish side of the internet called… Puppy clicker trained?

click

Seriously, I could feel it, I could feel the way electricity coarsed through my veins, into my bloodstream, from my brain down to my toes, and I started breathing out my mouth.

click

click

click

"Oh god…"

click

"Oh my fucking god… Urhhhh"

My back arched, my muscles tensed, phantom jolts were shooting through me as if my nerves remembered something my skin didn't.

My breath caught in my throat. For a heartbeat, I was frozen in that invisible current.

Then it was gone.

I sat up slowly when I realize that I was getting too excited, and I should not be… One of these days, I will associate the clicking sound with pleasure, with Anshur's grasp and abuse, and that will inevitably lead to me having a bad future with drugs and alcohol abuse like those teenagers who blame it on alt culture.

The clicker was still in my hand, silent and harmless it was, yet my heart could not stop racing.

"Right," I whispered to myself, setting it back down carefully. "It's just my imagination, nothing should come from this."

…

…

I sat up and opened up my PC, wanting to message Ann on the forum, inquiring about what the fuck is she planning to do after abolishing the New Destiny and promoting her mercenary-whatever-bullshit she had going on.

I looked at my empty PC screen, then looked at my bedside table.

I glanced back at my screen, yet once more I turned back to my bed.

click

click

click

click

"Woof… arf… woof woof…" I barked to the air, only mine to hear. The fact that no one was there to humiliate me wasn't great, but good enough.

…

click

…

Soon enough, after wetting yet another pair of underwear with both my legs stretched in the air as if I was showing off to an imaginary camera, I realized that I was holding something of such great power, The Ring per se.

And if uncle Ben ever taught me anything, it's that With Great Power, Comes Great Responsibility

I have to destroy this thing, I told myself as I click once more with the collar on my neck, lingering just for a second.

Then, I took the collar off.

Maybe, just maybe, one more click for good measure.

Yeah that feels good… Oh god, I need to masturbate.

I immediately throw the collar on the ground…

And of course, another click, I swear on god this would be the last one.

I threw the clicker down right next to the collar, and stomped on it.

Yet I immediately regret it, feeling the strongest sense of sadness so I bend down to see if it works.

click

click

Fuck this shit… No, no no no no no.

"ARGGGGG, GET OUT OF MY LIFEEEEEEEEE."

I stomped on it as hard as I can, feeling the sharp pain in my fragile sole, but I didn't stop.

I stomped and I stomped, I kicked the two pieces of hellish pleasure to the wall, I picked them back up and threw them against the floor once more, then once more and threw them at the wall. I did it until it was not its original form anymore, I could not see the shape of a collar or a kicker, only bits and pieces of wire and plastic. This would make a great philosophical dilemma about identity if reassembled.

I threw everything out on the hallway garbage can and jumped back onto my PC… Obviously, after changing my panties once more.

One good thing about Anshur was the fact that she never judged when my laundry includes disgusting stuff.

Come to think about it, that was probably why she was so against me being in close proximity of the Sonders in the first place.

…

"sigh"

The afternoon light had gone dim, and my room looked like a photo washed in gray.

My mouse felt heavier than usual as I scrolled through the feed, trying not to think about the clicker, or the way guilt had been eating me up like lunch the whole day.

Then, I went on the forum of Darkmoon Adventure, only to see that a message had already been waiting for me, it was sent an hour ago by…

By…

Giantess

Ann Murphray.

It seems she had embraced the nickname that one forum post gave her. I'm not going with The Primordial Sins though.

"Hey," her text appeared. "You've been quiet these past few days. You doing okay? Are you hurt?"

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the monitor, and for a moment, I almost laughed.

"Don't do that," I muttered under my breath as I typed.

"Do what?" she replied instantly.

"Don't act like we're the kind of friends that said hello to each other and a girlies that take each other out for photobooths or some shit, especially when you know damn well that I know that you have something to do with the whole thing," I said, fingers slamming the keys a little harder than needed. "I know you've got something to do with that whole mess between New Destiny and Lion's Parade."

The typing bubble appeared, flickered, and disappeared again.

She decided to stay quiet? My pulse spiked immediately.

"You think I wouldn't find out?" I said, the words pouring faster now. "LyraBell admitted it, I saw the wristwatch that you bought from me for, admittedly, a good price, then handed back to the original owner, aka her. And she knew about ErikDop too, the only guy who vanished during the trial, right before the barrier went down. Don't you dare tell me that's a coincidence."

"..." Ann hesitated, then she typed, "That was two of my only mistakes, not taking into consideration that Valerie would fail to stop you from reaching the main branch of Lion's Destiny, and not imagining that she would kill Hailie and Marc."

"Speaking of Lady_Valerie." I typed again, slower this time. "Did you, or did you not, pay Lady_Valerie (and two other mercenaries to interfere) in the war? To stop me from assassinating Nexus? The same mercs who attacked Pearl a week ago?"

Her reply came almost immediately.

"I didn't pay them," Ann wrote. "I ordered them, they belong to me."

"...So it's true, you own a mercenary ring?"

She sent a cute emoji of an animated cat smiling.

"Tanya was right then," I muttered to myself, not typing.

"You sound like you're accusing me of something scandalous. I prefer to call it a private organization, every government need their own PMC on quick dial."

"Government?" I asked, staring at her words, heat rising up my neck.

She continued, typing fast, each message like a knife's flick.

"You've always been sharp, Cory. Witty, strong, and you pick things apart before anyone else even sees the pattern. You are a smart fella… I admire that about you."

"And you're a fart smella, Ann." I replied.

"Join me, and be the commander of my mercenary company."

I couldn't stop the bitter laugh that escaped me. It echoed too loudly in the small room.

"You never listen, do you?" I muttered. "I don't follow anyone. Not even a friend."

There was a pause. Then I added:

"So answer the real question, what's your plan after tearing apart New Destiny? And who's helping you?"

Of course, she had no reason to answer me, I am literally no more valuable to her than a random player from across the street.

The screen stayed still for almost a full minute.

"You'll find out soon enough," she wrote. "When the current New Destiny leader makes their announcement."

"What do you mean?"

No answer.

"Hello?"

…

"Ann?"

"I will fucking kill you." I threatened childishly.

I guess… I got my answer?

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