Light poured into Agatha’s new room through the open curtains as her eyes fluttered open, feeling her arms wrapped around her favourite teddy bear, the raggedy little thing she'd lost, found, lost again, found again, and vowed never to part with again. That was over twenty years ago now. The one promise she was confident she was able to keep.

She rubbed at her eyes, yawning and stretching her arms as she rose into a sitting position. As she did, a familiar ringing sound of metal filled her ears.

She looked back to the headboard of her bed, seeing the chain that linked her thick leather collar to the headboard of her four poster bed, the outside of it surrounded by strong cage bars.

She groaned pleasurably, remembering the events of last night after signing on to become the Mistresses' apprentice. It felt so affirming to her to be taken like that, to be brought into someone's world with force after orbiting it from such a cold distance.

Though god damn, every inch of her body ached.

It was still a little hard to believe that this was going to be her new life. Being an apprentice, learning how to be a proper dominant. Of course right now it seemed like she was going through the same kind of initiation which the Mistresses had given to their playthings.

Crawling over to the bars of her cage bed, she gripped them in her hands and looked out to the rest of her room. It seemed that the maids had already moved a lot of her things into this new room, including her clothing. She might finally get to wear all the old clothes she used to wear without being off-duty. Though she was going to miss the finely tailored uniform she used to wear as a receptionist. After wearing clothes like those, it almost seemed like nothing quite fit right.

The door to Agatha’s room opened to reveal her mentor, Diana, her new Queen. Excitement welled in her heart to see her.

‘Arf! Woof wruff!’ she yapped excitedly before realising what was coming out of her mouth and blushing with embarrassment.

Diana tittered, ‘Oops, I hadn’t removed that from last night. Sorry, puppy.’

Agatha gave a silly little whine as Diana approached and gave a gentle stroke through her hair.

‘People words now, puppy.’

‘Ahh~ thank you my Queen,’ Agatha said in adoration.

‘You’re most welcome, dear. How are you feeling?’ she said as she withdrew her hand and unlocked the cage door to Agatha’s bed.

‘Mmnh, a little sore,’ she admitted as her Queen crawled onto the bed with her, ‘I haven’t been fucked that hard in … well, ever I think.’

‘You certainly seemed to appreciate it. Not that it was all just for fun, of course. Head down, dear,’ she said as she removed Agatha’s collar, ‘If you’re going to be dominating others, you need to know what being dominated feels like. If you’re going to give someone pain, you need to feel that pain first. Much the same is true for pleasure. Being a dominant is all about understanding yourself and understanding the others who submit themselves to you.’

Agatha nodded, trying to properly learn and take in her words. If these lessons were going to be borne by her body, she didn't want to forget them.

Diana led her by the hand out of her bed, towards her racks of clothing.

'Though you will also want those who submit to you to understand you. How do you think the fastest way to do that is?' Diana asked.

Agatha gave it some thought, looking at Diana. She remembered how she first saw her in person. How truly impressive she looked in her fine clothing and jewellery.

'Appearance and presence I would think, my Queen.'

She gave a warm smile, 'A very clever answer. After all, "the clothes make the man" is a common phrase for a good reason. There's even some scientific evidence that a person dressed in the garb of a professional will perform slightly better in roles related to that profession. They feel more confident, more appropriate for their role,' she explained, 'That was one of the reasons we have our staff dressed the way they do. If we had them dressed in a basic hospitality uniform it would make them feel out of place within our mansion. Thus their uniforms are finely tailored, to make them feel that they belong in their environment.'

Agatha nodded along as Diana continued.

'So when you are in your dominant space, what do you think is the impression you want to give; to yourself and to others?'

Agatha looked at her clothing in thought. There were a few things that helped her in that regard. Big stompy boots. Long flowing dresses. Gloves, either wrist or opera length. But there was also her mask.

She looked to the hat box which held it, her expression and thoughts pensive.

'I think I want to be more theatrical. I like the idea of my hypnosis being more thematic with magic,' Agatha pondered, 'Cursed objects, spells and hexes placed on people, powerful rituals binding their wills. I want to feel otherworldly and powerful, but … part of me still wants the option to lose.'

Diana raised an eyebrow, 'Lose? That's odd phrasing. How do you mean?'

'It's like I want to be the villain of a fantasy story. Evil and powerful, but I want to feel that rush of being brought low sometimes. I don't think I could handle being totally invincible,' she shrugged, 'It feels like too much pressure. It feels disingenuous for me to present that way.'

'So you want to tell a story, but you wouldn't want to lie,' she mused, resting the back of her hand beneath her chin.

'Exactly. I get that it's contradictory.'

'Perhaps. But if that is what you want, we can help you find that space,' Diana said warmly, 'For now, why don't you dress in whatever makes you feel most appropriate for your new role as our apprentice. This won't be a uniform, just to remind you. But it will help us both to get an understanding of what it is you feel best represents the role you're fulfilling. Once we have that idea, your Master and I will have your true uniform prepared.'

Agatha browsed through her clothing for some time, putting together an outfit for herself. Scarlet lingerie was her underwear, satinous panties and a lacy bra. Flattering but not overexposing. She kept the garters and cuban heeled stockings from her uniform, as well as the pearl-buttoned blouse, over which she chose to wear a leather German-style harness from her own collection, the black and firm leather stark against the refined white and pearl of her blouse. From her skirts, she wasn't able to find anything of a length or flow she liked that wasn't too restrictive, though she did have a flowy black spaghetti-strap dress she felt was perfect. She was admittedly a little sheepish to have to take off the outfit she was assembling for herself to put on the dress beneath, but Diana gave an endeared smile.

After she had finished putting everything back on, she slid some thick socks over her stockings – earning an odd look from Diana – before pulling out a different pair of black boots, these ones thick platforms of near reflective black patent leather, giving her an extra inch or so of height. She might not have liked the material as much, but she adored the platforms. Agatha blushed a little, realising that her Queen now had to look up at her slightly to meet her gaze.

Sorting through another box, she let her fingers brush over her collection of collars, chokers, and necklaces. Eventually she settled on a black choker ringed with long silver metal spikes.

After sliding on a pair of short leather gloves, she held before her the last two options she felt would complete her outfit. In one hand was her cute witch's hat with the bow pin. It was sweet and made her comfortable, even if it was a little soft. But in her other: her mask. The beak-like point, the claws extending from the stern brow which would comb into her flowing hair. It held her attention, demanded it. It was intimidating.

But was she worthy of it?

Agatha felt the decision being made for her as Diana's hand gently plucked the mask out of hers, studying it under a bemused expression.

'So this must be that mask you had mentioned,' she said as she turned it over in her hands, 'An interesting little piece. But perhaps a little too dramatic for a mere apprentice, wouldn't you say?'

Agatha hesitantly nodded.

'I’ll hold onto this for you. Rest assured it will be returned, perhaps on a special occasion,' she said.

'Yes my Queen,' Agatha nodded, placing the hat onto her head.

'Good,' Diana said as she circled Agatha, examining her, 'Hm, not bad. The style is there, but the fitting and materials could be improved.'

Agatha swore she could hear the scratching of a pencil as Diana continued to take mental notes. Seemingly satisfied, she nodded and stood back.

‘This is a good start. I’m looking forward to seeing how you change.’

For a brief moment Agatha remembered Kae’s words about being turned into something completely different by Diana and Jasmine. A brief moment of hesitation crept into her, but then she remembered this was what she signed up for. This was what she wanted.

'Now then,' Diana continued, 'How much do you know about makeup? I'm told Jasmine had to help you with some of your collection?'

'Admittedly not much. I just tried to do something that looked nice, more or less. I haven't followed any guides, really. Beyond what Mis- I mean, what Master told me.'

Diana gave a small sigh, 'Then we certainly have a lot of work to do.'

It started with showing Diana her meagre collection of makeup, to which Diana was nonplussed by. A number of hand-me-down pallets, several discordant bronzers and concealers and mismatching foundations, a small selection of lipstick shades, and a few miscellaneous things.

Diana made another mental note.

'As we'll be going out for today, I'll do your makeup for you. Just to show you something that should fit with your chosen aesthetic.'

Diana bid Agatha to sit in the light, and the apprentice complied. Her Queen's touch was so gentle and soft in contrast to the voracious roughness with which she had treated her the night before. But both felt so intimate in their own ways, the makeup applied with soft brushes and gentle tilts of the head compared to the hissed teasing and grasping, desperate exploration and ecstacy of the previous evening.

She couldn't believe how she looked once Diana had finished. It was the same immaculate style that her Queen's makeup always had, but so much unlike her own aesthetic. Agatha's eyes were shadowed in white, made dusky and nebulous by deep purples and a faint dusting of silver and grey. Her cheekbones were highlighted to make them more severe, near imperious. Her plumped lips were stained a deep raisin purple and given a refined matte finish.

Agatha had a hard time believing it was her when she first looked in the mirror.

'I … it looks incredible, my Queen,' Agatha echoed her thoughts aloud.

Diana gave a small hum of self satisfaction, 'I'm happy I did so well given the materials I had to work with. But improvements can always be made. Now come along. We have a busy day ahead of us.'

'Yes my Queen,' Agatha said, standing at Diana's bidding, 'If I may ask, where are we going?'

Diana flashed an excited smile, 'Shopping.'

Agatha felt herself once again caught between two vastly different emotional states. On the one hand she was very happy to be spending more time with her Queen, who seemed to be taking them out on a shopping spree and was revelling in it – in a dignified manner befitting her station, of course. But on the other side she was still quite nervous. It was very sudden and she hadn't had any idea what exactly they were going to do.

Still, it was all really exciting.

Their destination was ultimately an enormous shopping complex in the centre of the city. Familiar polyfibre carpet lay across the floors, the wide central court an intricately set and excessively decorated marble star, radiating outwards and covered in all different arrangements of seating and fast food outlets.

'Stay on my left side, Agatha. Just a step behind me,' Diana instructed, 'And just for while we're here, you may use my name.'

Agatha pushed down her apprehension and nodded, 'Yes Diana.'

With a smile, Diana led her through several extremely high-end retail outlets. It was dizzying to Agatha to see all this expensive and fancy stuff; clothing, perfumes, makeup, jewellery. She couldn't help but fall back into the mindset of an assistant, trying to remain attentive to her Queen as she occasionally handed her bags of purchases and asked her for her opinions every now and again, to Agatha's surprise.

Eventually Diana led them to a soft couch in one of the many thoroughfares of the shopping centre before sitting down with an exaggerated sigh.

'Why don't you put down those bags for now, Agatha? I've noticed you haven't really been buying anything yourself. Are things not to your liking here?'

Agatha put down the bags as instructed, 'No Diana, it's not that. You see, I've been sending a lot of what I was earning back home to my partners. Mostly to help with their cost of living and to pay people back for kindnesses they've shown me,' she fidgeted with her hands, 'While there's plenty here that I like the look of, I just don't think I have the money for it right now.'

Diana gave a small huff and produced a card from her purse, black and embossed with silver. A credit card, but an extremely exclusive looking one.

'Go buy yourself something. I will be here waiting for you to return.'

Agatha hesitated for a barest moment. She knew Diana would not do this lightly, and they clearly had money to burn. Agatha took the card and thanked her Queen.

She held it as if it were made of sugar glass, not really knowing the extent of the value which had been entrusted to her. She didn't want to abuse this trust. Maybe she'd just buy one thing.

Just one thing.

Maybe two.

No, just one.

Well … maybe if it was something small.

It was as she was browsing the various shops, trying to see what caught her eye when an alternative clothing outlet caught her eye.

It took her all of five minutes after stepping inside to be torn between two pairs of boots she liked.

The first pair was a chunky platform boot, all spikes and metal plates and straps, black leather and shiny nickel. The other was a classic form she could not put down, a heeled boot which curled upwards at its pointed tip.

It was agonising to choose. So she didn't.

Even with the seemingly limitless funds at her fingertips, it still felt wrong somehow. So she kept the receipt. It felt guilt-inducing to have just spent five hundred dollars on boots with money that wasn't hers, even if it was ordered of her.

Agatha returned to her Queen with her purchases, two bags of weighty shoeboxes. Diana smiled as she approached, looking up from examining some of her own recent purchases.

'Is this really it? Agatha,' she began, 'Are you sure there was nothing else that caught your eye?’

Agatha couldn't help but feel confused and guilty, as if she'd done something wrong somehow but had no idea what it was.

'I mean, it's not that, Diana. I just … didn't want to betray your trust.'

Diana sighed, 'Perhaps I should have been clearer as to the point of this exercise. Do you think that with everything you have in your possession, you can accurately express your identity?'

Words clung inside Agatha's mouth again, not like before from blushing hesitancy, but this time like sickly tar. Who the hell was she? What was she trying to prove? She'd given up on liking herself so long ago that all she knew how to do was seek validation from others. And now what was she trying to do? Lend herself to a pair of dommes so she could learn to – do what, exactly? Learn how to hurt people "the right way?"

She knew she was just going to end up abusing people again if she-

'Agatha.'

Diana's words snapped her out of her spiral of self loathing. She hadn't realised just how twisted her stomach felt.

Her Queen moved some of their bags from the seat.

'Sit.'

Agatha nodded and did as she was told. Diana put a hand around the back of her neck and slowly pulled her in, nestling Agatha's head against her shoulder.

'Now, tell me your thoughts. Speak your mind.'

Agatha gulped. Even to obey her Queen was hard, but she dragged her words out from the hiding places they had caught themselves within.

'I wish I wasn't … like me. All I can ever think about is just trying not to upset people. Every time I try to do something for myself it feels … something goes wrong. Something always goes wrong, even if it doesn't happen immediately. I hurt people. More often than not I hurt myself.'

Another of Diana's arms lay across Agatha, her hand resting on her head as she gently stroked her hair.

'You're not the first person to tell me something like this,' Diana said with a small smile, 'And while I believe I can help, it will depend on your own strength of will. And I think I know exactly what might be able to help you with that. Do you think you can manage that for me?'

Agatha hesitated. Her brain was warping itself, screaming for an escape from her self loathing. She nodded into Diana's shoulder. As she did, Diana took her hand off her neck and brought her fingers to Agatha's ears to snap her fingers.

'Sleep.'

Agatha's eyes opened.

She found herself in a stone room. Blocks and bricks of it made the smooth floors and walls, and a single window looked out to a verdant field of grass and flowers, roiling white clouds and pale blue skies beyond. Craning her neck upwards, she saw the room was actually a hollow square tower, reaching up to an impossible climb, the top open to that same impossibly beautiful sky she saw through the window.

And within this tower was the chest. The same mental lockbox she kept her whitelist in. The same chest she…

How long are you planning to continue this?

Agatha stumbled back. That sounded like … like her? Only different. Confident. Bolder. Self-assured.

'Continue what?' Agatha asked, looking at the chest again, the chains once wrapped around it hanging off it now, relaxed and loose.

This farce. This pointless cycle of permitting yourself to fail. Letting Uus both down.

'I'm sorry I-'

Yes, that's always the issue, isn't it? You're sorry. Meek little pointless, stupid, sorry little thing. So afraid to get in anyone's way that you'll throw yourself to the ground and trip them up. Because it's easier than growing into something worthy of respect. And you're always so sorry, because it's always your fault, isn't it? Because to admit otherwise means someone might hold it against you.

Concrete set inside Agatha's throat as she dug her nails into her clenched fists. She knew where that Voice was coming from.

'I'm not what you say I am.'

Don't be stupid, Agatha. These aren't My thoughts. It isn't the "truth" either. These are the things I've heard you thinking, for far too long, about yourself. The awful lies you pin into your brain like needles, trying to stymie the parts of yourself you didn't want to grow; like some demented bonsai tree.

She blinked in surprise. That part of her she hated, that she thought was all the negative parts of her, that monster inside her head. Why was it saying all this?

'Of course, it was all my fault anyway,' Agatha sulked, 'I guess that just makes sense.'

The lid of the chest creaked open slightly, two yellow eyes burning from the darkness within.

Tell Me, Agatha. Why would you think that?

'I keep ruining things for myself,' she hissed, fingernails digging deeper, 'I act impulsively, thinking I know what I'm talking about but I never do. And it hurts people when I try to take control. I … I was reckless.'

You were. You were also young. Excited. Desperate for a love and affection you thought you hadn't earned because you thought you never would deserve it. So when you found someone willing to give that to you-

'I abused her!' Agatha shouted, trying to hold back tears.

And did she not abuse your trust? Lied to you about even enjoying what you did to her? Made you lie to protect her after she left?

'I … I didn't have to. She didn't make me.'

A clawed hand grasped through the open lid of the chest.

You were desperate and afraid! Even if she did not intend to, she manipulated you! And because you were paralysed with fear and boiling alive in your own self loathing, you could not speak for yourself!

The Voice took a moment to compose itself, settling back into a more neutral tone.

I am not here to belittle you, Agatha. I am here because you put Me here. Bound Me by chains of fear and doubt. I am here because you are afraid of what might happen if you do not constantly submit to others. I am here because you could not kill Me. You need Me to exist. Otherwise, you would be nothing but a changeling. A mirror for others to see their own reflections, devoid of true life.

Agatha couldn’t speak. She'd heard of pluralism, spoken with a few systems about it before. She knew she didn't have dissociative identity disorder, but that wasn't the only way plural people could develop.

But was this really that? Did she really make herself another personality she just refused to acknowledge to try and protect herself? Or was this just another vivid dream borne from her over-active imagination?

Gods, do you ever stop asking questions?

Agatha shook herself out of her spiral of thoughts, 'Fine, just one more thing,' she said as she squared her shoulders, 'Who are you?'

The Voice echoed with a laugh, the last few chains that clung to the chest sliding off with a lethargic rattle as the lid opened fully.

I am you. But stronger.

Darkness and yellow light poured from the chest and into the room, causing Agatha to throw her arms over her eyes. Shadows flooded into every crevice and corner, pushing against the walls as the crackling pillar of light coalesced into a figure.

She was Her. Everything Agatha wished she wasn't afraid to be, physically identical but so different that she couldn't call Her the same person.

The dress was immaculate dark satin which clung to the contours of Her body, flowing down into a beautiful gown which melded with the black fog which now enshrouded the ground. A shawl of sheer fabric hung from Her arms and back, shot through with slivers and stars of silver. Her hair flowed and crackled with power, a radiant yellow light forming a halo of power behind Her head.

And Her eyes. Agatha could not look away from Her eyes. It was almost as if the pupils themselves glowed with dark light, ringed by that same yellow energy.

And yet, the Sorceress wore no mask. Agatha could see, terrifyingly, that Her face was her own.

I know you are afraid, Agatha. But you want to face your fears. I know that you are weak, but you want to be strong. You want to control, to influence yourself and others, but you do not wish to become a tyrant. You are torn between indecision and fear, and so you cling to base comforts like they will heal you. But I know what you want. So say it.

Agatha felt herself biting her tongue. That feeling in her gut wrenched all the tighter, her fingers feeling as if they would pierce through the flesh of her hands.

'I … I want … to stop holding back.'

The Sorceress' head tilted upwards, looking down her nose at Agatha.

I know you can do better than that. Speak!

'I want to be right!' Agatha screamed suddenly, 'I want to be sure that I'm not really a monster or an idiot! I want to know that what I'm doing is right! I hate this insecure agony I feel! I want to know what it's like to be in control!'

The Sorceress grinned.

There is more, isn’t there Agatha? That burning coal in your heart you fear to touch. Tell me what is really holding you back!

The choking sensation in Agatha’s throat felt tight to near strangulation. Like the smoke from black and yellow flames was pouring from her core. Her grief was breaking her.

If she could not face this now, she knew she would surely die.

‘I want … I want to learn to stop hating myself,’ she said in a choking rasp, ‘I need to learn to f-forgive. Forgive myself.’

A look of triumph crossed Her face, a victory denied to Her for so many years.

Then you should know my name. Wwe both know you and I aren't the same, though Wwe share so much.

My name is Lilliana. And as of this moment, you belong to Me.

'You?' Agatha gasped, holding a hand to her chest.

Oh Agatha, do not misunderstand. I know you do not believe yourself worthy for things beyond the comforts you wallow in. So I will take your will and use it as an extension of My own. When you awake, you will get out of bed at My command. When you eat, it will be because I demand it. And when you take pleasure, it will be because I let you enjoy it.

Lilliana advanced on Agatha, her hand running through her hair and holding tight to Agatha's scalp.

And you will do this, because your body is My property. I will not have my host destroy themselves, drowning in their own selfish despair. Am I clear, Agatha?

Agatha could barely keep track of what was going on. Was this really all her own thoughts? It felt like it. But her Queen had hypnotised her … but how much about the Sorceress did she know? Was this part of the suggestion?

Agatha’s lips trembled as words rose out from her mouth, 'Y-yes Sorceress.'

Good. Know your place. Now, return to the Waking World and tell your so-called "Queen" of this.

Suddenly it was like a wave of antithetical lethargy washed over Agatha. She blinked again and everything faded away.

Agatha opened her eyes once more, held in the arms of her Queen.

She rubbed at her eyes, trying to shake off the sensation of trance.

'Mmmhm … how long was I out?' she asked, pulling away from Diana.

'An hour or so,' her Queen said with nonchalance, 'It seemed you had quite a deep introspective trance.'

Agatha nodded. The vivid memories of part of her inner world stuck in her mind, unreal in its own strange way.

'Of course,' Diana continued, 'I did give you one or two suggestions to help you along. For one, that dominant persona of yours in your mind will not take so kindly to any lies you might tell yourself.'

'Persona? Oh you mean the … the Sorceress?' Agatha asked.

'Yes,' she smiled, 'From what you've described you've been quite interested in keeping them as a distinct "character" you can play to distance yourself from your own personality. It's only natural that such a persona should be invested in keeping its host healthy and happy. Not to mention,' Diana gave another grin, 'She might have a few things of her own that she would desire. Aside from the things we've given you already, a lot of your clothing appears to be very cute. Homely, even. Lots of yellows and earth tones and flowing dresses. Do you think you’d make a good housewife, Agatha?’

She couldn’t help but blush again at Diana’s good-natured teasing.

‘But I must ask you now; do you think your Sorceress might want to wear those things?'

Agatha didn't need to hesitate at all, 'No, my Queen.'

'In that case, why don't we use the time we have left to find some proper attire for her?'

'Yes my Queen,' Agatha started, but had to ask another question, 'Did you give the Sorceress her name?'

Diana stopped and looked back to Agatha, a puzzled expression on her face.

'I did not, in fact. Did she tell you anything else?'

'Just that,' Agatha swallowed as an unconscious hand clutched at the spiked choker around her neck, 'Her name was Lilliana. And that I was her property.'

Diana smiled thoughtfully and gave a genuine, musical laugh, 'I suppose that is the most literal interpretation of the suggestion I gave you! Of course, as you are also under contract with us, we may have to have our own … negotiations with her.'

An echo of Agatha's own thoughts spoke in her mind.

I should like to see her try.