CH 46 - Training the mistress

Three months later...

Monica’s life right now is practically a fever dream, a twisted bootcamp from hell, courtesy of her sister Melanie—who, by the way, runs the kind of workouts that’d make a Navy SEAL cry for his mom. All this just to get a step ahead of Charlotte, the reigning queen of misery. Monica’s not just sweating; she’s battling through psychological warfare, courtesy of her “mistress.” Relentless is an understatement.

And what’s it all for? The big plan: break free from Charlotte’s iron grip and hand over her leash to Edward. She’s banking on the idea that men, bless their supposedly softer hearts, might go easier on her. Edward’s the new target—maybe he’ll be less of a nightmare. Honestly, after the parade of weirdos she’s served, anyone might be an upgrade.

But here’s the kicker: one false move, and it’s game over. Monica’s been passed around more times than a bad penny, each guy with his own set of twisted rules. She’s so over it. She wants out so bad she can taste it, and the only way is by knocking Charlotte off her throne. Of course, irony loves company—Monica’s still got to survive Charlotte’s torments and Melanie’s sadistic training sessions.

Back in those days, her biggest problem was basically wrangling up some backup. She needed allies—desperately. But who could she actually trust not to screw things up? There were maybe one or two people worth a damn. Alex? Possible. The twins, Elias and Eliam? Ha! Please. Those two were walking disasters, guaranteed to either mess everything up or annoy Sophia so much she’d go nuclear before the plan even got off the ground. Not worth the headache. Plus, let’s face it, the twins would probably get bored and slip away to chase after Idun, Embla, or basically any woman who so much as blinked in their direction.

Vieregg would be keeping tabs on those two man-children, and Melanie would run interference with AJ. Easy. So, she worked her magic on Alex—manipulating him was child’s play, honestly, like convincing a golden retriever to fetch. She hit up her sister once Alex caved, which didn’t take much. Favors for favors, nothing personal. Their relationship was strictly business, no hearts-and-flowers nonsense.

Alex, as usual, did exactly what he was told. He fixed up a glass of water for Charlotte, lacing it with a water-soluble pill and a not-so-subtle aphrodisiac. She’d clocked that Charlotte liked her water with a lemon twist, so she made sure Alex got it just right. Then she handed him the drink, told him to deliver it, and acted like she was too busy to bother.

So, Alex strolls into Charlotte’s workspace, where she’s drowning in emails and stress. She looks up, barely containing her annoyance—classic Charlotte.

“What do you want, Alex?” she snaps, already on the verge of biting his head off

Alex strolled in with all the ceremony of a teenager delivering a pizza—no bow, no grace, just a tray and a smirk. “Well, don’t I feel honored, your royal sassiness,” he deadpanned, balancing the glass like he was about to do a magic trick. “Thought I’d gift you with some hydration before I escape to the labs for some actual fun. Normally, Monica would be stuck with this VIP room service gig, but she’s off running errands for the big bad bosses. She was basically shaking in her shoes, terrified you’d turn her into a pumpkin or something if she skipped the water. Can’t say I blame her, honestly.”

Charlotte just glared, the kind of look that could curdle milk. “Just hand over the glass and get lost.”

Alex grinned, all teeth. “Gladly. Seriously, dealing with this royal circus? Edward’s getting an earful from me later. Hazard pay, minimum.”

He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, while Charlotte downed the lemony water like she was bracing for poison control. Glass empty, Alex swooped in, snatched it away like a magician’s finale, and made for the exit—almost.

One last encore. He stuck his head back in, voice full of fake cheer: “Anything else, your highness? Or is the royal attitude quota maxed out for the day?”

You could practically hear the mic drop.

Charlotte tries hard to disregard Alex and goes back to answering emails. His childish jibes don't faze her at all. In the end, Alex walks away, closing the door behind him. He heads off to the labs for some amusement. A few moments later, Monica comes back from her "errand" to check if her scheme has succeeded. Just as she expected, she walks into the room to find her "mistress" sound asleep. She can hardly believe her eyes at the sight of Charlotte so defenseless. She knows she must act swiftly to maintain her upper hand.

"It's time to finally dismantle this woman and remind her of her rightful place," Monica declared, thrilled that her scheme had succeeded. She started to have her hands securely tied behind her back. A mouth-sized ball gag was firmly positioned over her lips to prevent her from uttering her special keyword. At last, her mistress's alluring legs were restrained, severing the final threads of Charlotte's liberty. Monica had a devious plan for her mistress, now turned into a slave. She had purchased an impressive Mystim Sizzling Simon E-Stim Vibrator, an egg vibrator designed for her back entrance, and an anal butt plug to guarantee no slippage. Once everything was set up, all that remained was to awaken the sleeping beauty.

Charlotte barely had a second to shake off her nap before reality smacked her in the face. No gentle wake-up here—just pure chaos, straight out the gate. She blinked, dazed, then—boom—panic set in. Arms and legs tied like some messed-up magic trick, legs spread so wide you’d think she was auditioning for a yoga ad gone wrong, and a gag jammed in her mouth, killing any hope of shouting for help or using that hush-hush Monica deactivation code. For once, Monica spotted something rare on Charlotte’s face—real fear. Not that fake, dramatic stuff. Actual, trembling, deer-in-the-headlights fear. Kinda pathetic, honestly, seeing her usually smug expression melt into helplessness.

Monica wasn’t about to repeat her last disaster—nope, she’d learned. Fool her once, shame on her. Fool her twice? Not happening. This time, she was out to shatter Charlotte’s obnoxious attitude, not take on the entire Justice League. And as soon as Charlotte processed her predicament, shock blazed into pure, feral anger. She thrashed like a wildcat, but Monica? Already had the remote locked and loaded. One press, and the vibrator inside Charlotte roared to life, flooding her with sensation. Her muffled moans slipped out, sweet but silenced by the ball gag—no chance of alerting the neighbors. The walls might as well have been soundproof, sealing her away in her own private storm.

“Oh, well, look who’s all high and mighty now,” Monica chimed in, her eyes practically sparkling with mischief. “Somebody’s been forgetting their place, huh? Kick back, sweetheart. Time for a little reminder session about who you really are—and spoiler alert, it’s not the queen bee you think, you naughty little slut.”

So Monica’s got this wild toy—the Mystim Sizzling Simon, which honestly sounds more like a rejected X-Men character than a vibrator—and she’s not shy about using it. Charlotte’s there, feeling every new pulse, every zap, like she’s starring in her very own science experiment. The anticipation’s building, sweat, nerves, the whole nine yards. She’s teetering on that edge, just about to tumble into bliss, and then—Monica, the absolute tease, just stops. Like, “Nope, not yet.” That’s some Olympic-level patience right there.

Monica’s got this aura—one minute she’s pure dominance, the next she’s just vibing, totally in her groove. She keeps dragging Charlotte right to the brink, then yanking her back. Over and over. You can practically feel Charlotte’s frustration sizzling in the air. She lets out this little whimper, half pleading, half cursing her luck.

Her mind’s racing, and not in a fun way. She’s got all these flashbacks of being the top dog, calling the shots, dishing out punishments like Halloween candy. Now? Tables have turned, and she knows Monica’s got her own wicked plans. The worst part? She’s going to remember every delicious, twisted detail.

They keep this dance going for ages—twenty minutes, maybe more, but who’s counting when you’re seeing stars? Monica’s switching between gadgets like a mad scientist, pushing Charlotte to the brink of sensory overload. Just as things are about to get really wild—bam! There’s a knock at the door, and Monica’s phone starts blaring. Because apparently, the universe loves a good cliffhanger.

Monica’s phone buzzes, and—oh, thank god—Charlotte catches a breather. On the other end? Monica’s sister, Melanie, sulking in the hallway like some villain waiting for her cue. Monica just shrugs, unlocks the door, and in sweeps Melanie, eyes glinting, already sizing Charlotte up like she’s a new toy on Christmas morning.

“So this is the leash-holder?” Melanie smirks, eyebrows practically doing a dance. “You’ve kept her busy, huh? Not like she’s going anywhere now. Honestly, she looks ready to burst. Time to dial it up, remind her who’s queen around here. But hey—let’s call this round, yeah? Give her a breather. I want a word before I dip.”

Monica sighs, rolling her eyes. “If you say so. She’s getting off easy, but whatever.”

She works the vibrators, switching back and forth, and—boom—it’s like someone fired off a confetti cannon, except, you know, way messier. The office becomes a splash zone. Charlotte finally gets her release, but the dread on her face? Oh, she knows the real storm’s just rolling in.

“Cut her loose, sis,” Melanie says, grinning. And just like that, the sequel’s about to begin.
.

“You’re messing with me, right?” Monica shot her a look that could fry an egg. “If I let her loose, she’ll destroy me. Like, actual vengeance.”

Melanie just smirked—classic. “Nah, look at her. She’s wrecked. This is just a teaser trailer, babe. The feature presentation? That’s hours away. She couldn’t handle it even if she wanted to. We gotta warm her up first. Now, toss me the vibrator.”

Melanie yanked the gag out of Charlotte’s mouth. Monica flinched, bracing for a scream or a curse or something wild, but—nope. Charlotte just lay there, limp as a ragdoll, eyes all glassy, blinking like she was stuck buffering.

“Max the egg. Go all out,” Melanie barked, already plotting her next move. “You handle down there. I’ll take her mouth—got a few words for her anyway.”

Monica cranked the egg up to eleven, and Charlotte let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a gasp, like she was short-circuiting. Melanie swooped in, filling her mouth with the E-stim, while Monica dove in, and honestly, the whole scene got a little electric—pun fully intended.

Alright, Momo, are you getting it now? Look at this—this is what a real submissive looks like,” Melanie says, and there’s this smug little grin. “None of that tough act she puts on. Her body? Literally made for this.” She glances over, “Hey, Ms. Charlotte. Finally meeting another true submissive? Gotta say, I’ve been looking forward to this. Before you pass out or whatever, I just wanted you to know I’m excited to get to know you better. Now that you’ve dropped the act, I expect you to start behaving like who you really are. Oh, and by the way—my sister’s in charge now. She’s your new mistress. So, I want zero attitude from you, got it? I’ll be watching. My sister? She’s got that natural dominant vibe, not like me. So don’t mess this up—do what she says, be the good little sub you’re supposed to be. Your body’s basically ours now. We’ll have you fully trained in no time. She's all yours, Momo.”