Andrea’s eyes open. Had she been asleep? Just drifted off? She was in the middle of the opulent meeting room she’d made so much use of over the past few days. Seated around the table were her accountant, with an apprehensive, uncomfortable look written on her face, and Laureen, wearing a gloating, prideful smirk. Before Andrea was a document. She glanced over it, finding it long, and full of complex words that sort of simply skipped along the surface of her mind. “Are you going to sign then, Miss Combs?” Her Accountant asked. Andrea glanced up, giving her a searching look, then returned her gaze to the page, eyeing the blank signature space, lastly, she looked to Laureen, who chewed her lip and gestured her to continue.

“But wha—?”

“This is why you called us here, is it not, Andrea? Just sign the document, and all this can go away.” There was an authoritative firmness with which Andrea was unfamiliar hearing from Laureen. That wasn’t to say Laureen typically spoke without any authority, but such a tone was typically reserved for her lessers, not her equals. Feeling utterly bewildered and cowed, Andrea meekly peered down at the document, finding a pen next to it. She reached for it, keeping her eyes down, and, with a shaky hand, signed the bottom of the page. The moment the pen fell from her hand, some instinct screamed at her. What on earth had she just signed? What agreement had been made? What did she just sign off on? The dread inside her only amplified as, across the table, Laureen bellowed a gleeful, mocking cackle. She leaned over and snatched the document, then quickly placed her own signature below Andrea’s. “You stupid little slut,” she sneered. “You just signed your life away to me. You thought you were some big bad hotshot Mistress living it up, but your favorite little slave tipped me off to the truth: you’re nothing but a meek little bitch on the inside. Now you, and everything you own belong to me. I wonder what I’ll have you do first.” 

Part of Andrea didn’t want to believe it. The rest of her somehow knew Laureen wasn’t lying. She’d just signed her life away. It all made sense now, the fogginess in her head, the gaps in her memory. She had slowly, but surely been brainwashed. The worst part was, she could feel it. Andrea could feel the docile, submissive persona implanted within her fighting to take over. Even now she felt the urge to sink to her knees and cower before the cruel Mistress. There was nothing she could do, if she’d already been brainwashed, then even her own gifts could never save her. Not against a real Mistress. Fear and dread writhed within Andrea at the prospect of spending the rest of her life under the heel of such a sadistic woman. Then, something happened; behind her, Andrea heard the door to the conference room swing open. Dressed in an elegant dress and stiletto heels, and standing in the doorway with cool confidence written large on her face, was Rose. She strode into the room, a swagger in her step as she marched past Andrea, past Laureen, past the woman who was now Laureen’s accountant, and to the head of the table.

“Ah, there she is. The little bitch who sold you out. I think I’ll keep both of you,” Laureen mused. She fixed her icy gaze upon Rose. “Come here,” she commanded. Instead, Rose simply sat down, disregarding Laureen entirely. 

“Thank you both for coming. I apologize for my own lateness.” The distant, sweet, dreamy tone Andrea was used to hearing Rose speak in was completely absent. She looked to the accountant. “Miss Reynolds, I assume the documents are all in order.” With a quick, curt nod, the accountant took the signed document from in front of Laureen, and passed it to Rose.

“All finished, m’am. You’re welcome to look it over if you like, and I can make copies at your leisure,” she answered. 

Her voice trembling with rage, Laureen stood with a start. “What is the meaning of this,” she hissed. 

For her own part, Andrea was hardly paying attention, she had drawn her legs inward, and was practically cowering in her chair as she dreaded the future that awaited her under the ruthless rule of Mistress Laureen. 

A cool laugh echoed low in Rose’s throat. “The two of you just signed away your lives to me,” she said frankly. 

With a start, Laureen began to stride across the room, her fists clenched. “Listen here you insolent little—”

“Kneel,” Rose commanded; and, with dawning horror in her eyes, Laureen stopped short, and knelt. Again, Rose laughed, savoring the moment of her victory. “Oh, Laurey, you made such an excellent pawn. With a few clever calls and a well placed distraction I ensnared your mind just as I’d ensnared little Andi’s.” Her gaze swept the room, falling on Andrea. The moment those eyes fell on her, Andrea stopped shaking. It was as though a pair of soothing arms had wrapped around her, a gentle blanket of safe submission washing over her. “And now I have both of you. All of your assets, all of your talent, all of your authority at my command. Say it, Laurey. I own you.” Cold eyes locked onto Laureen’s kneeling form. Andrea could see the woman shaking, her teeth gritted and her mouth tight as her knitted brow.

“W-won’t,” she choked. Each syllable seemed to come with herculean effort. 

“Say it, Laurey. You’ll feel better.” 

“Y-youuu. Ownnnnnnnoooo. You. Ownnnn. Me.” Sweat was dripping off her brow as she struggled, and failed to resist, but the moment she finished speaking a look of defeat crossed her face as her eyes fell and her jaw slacked, her whole body slumping forward, but remaining on her knees. 

“Again. Say it like you mean it.” Rose was merciless. 

“You own me.” Laurey whimpered. 

“Again.” 

“You own me.”

“More.”

“You own me. You own me. Youuu owwnn mmeeeee.” That last time it again sounded like it took great effort. But anyone with half a brain could look at Laurey and understand why. She was panting, twitching. Her hips were humping the empty air as little gasps and groans punctuated each word. 

“Cum for your Mistress,” Rose commanded. And Laurey fell forward, moaning and groaning in wanton pleasure. Chuckling, Rose turned to face Andrea. “Now now, my little Andi. My precious plaything. What to do with you.” 

“How did you...?” There was awe in her voice, Andrea couldn’t deny that. If Andrea hadn’t spent hours gazing upon that gorgeous face, she’d have thought Rose to be an entire different person from the sweet, ditzy, sleepy, treasured pet. Her eyes were sharp and focused, her posture poised and perfect, no longer were her movements lazy or slightly uncoordinated. To Andrea, Rose looked like a predator, coiled and ready to strike at her prey. She flashed a charismatic, confident grin, and leaned back in her chair, lifting one leg over the other. 

“Simple,” she purred. “People like you and Laureen have the world handed to you. Born both wealthy and with the gift? It’s a free ticket to easy street. Take someone like me though? I had to work for everything I have. Now, I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that I, too, can bend others to my will. But without the cash to stay above the law wherever my gifts failed me, things never came so freely as they have with you. So, obviously, I decided the best way to get what I wanted would be to take it.”

“B-but how did you keep from getting your will completely dominated.” 

“That was the hard part,” she said. “I must admit, I took a big risk doing this, but the rewards were too great to pass up. I found you, knowing you had a reputation for being less hard on your pets, and made sure to conform my look to your type. Then I spent as much time in the sort of circles you people pull from as possible. Once I had your interest I managed to oh so subtly influence you to tone down the strength of your brainwashing.”

“But you could have—”

“Hush, plaything. Interrupting me? I see some of your Mistress persona has yet to fully die off, we’ll have to fix that soon. But, to answer your question, yes, that very well could have been it for me. In fact, it nearly was. For a good year, I really was just your little Rosey. Your sweet, beloved pet. And I was happy. But slowly, surely, I gained by wits back, and started planning my takeover. You know what I realized during that time though?” She relaxed her posture, and nodded to Andrea, indicating her turn to speak.

“W-what?” 

“I realized that I rather enjoyed being your pet. That is to say, I enjoyed being pampered, having no responsibilities. Part of me even considered staying like that, though pride got in the way. You had the right idea choosing to outsource most of the hard work off to underlings while you got to kick back and relax. Before I had all these ambitions about power and domination. But now I realize even you had plenty of hard work to do. Work and risk. I’m not a fan. If I were in your place I’d have to join your little Mistress Council, I’d have to manage my business and assets, I’d have to keep track of the logistics of housing and caring for my belongings. And I finally understood the solution: why would I ever try to replace you, when instead I could simply control you from behind the scenes?” 

For a moment, Rose paused, studying Andrea, then continued. “So, here’s how things are going to work from now on. To the outside world, including those pesky peers of yours, Andrea Combs will have retired, sold off her business assets, and gone to live a secluded life with her beloved, cherished, pampered pet Rose. Meanwhile, Laureen Wilcox will continue to live her life as a cold, harsh ‘owner’ and businesswoman. All while, of course, funding my extravagant lifestyle. I’ll, of course, be living a secluded life here on this already beautiful, comfortable, and homey estate.” 
 
“And, wh-what will actually happen to me?” Andrea’s whole body was trembling. To her shock, she realized, it was in anticipation. Rose had such a commanding aura about her, and there was no denying it, Andrea’s body was responding to it. The urge to submit was rising within her, overriding residual fear or shame. 

Standing, Rose crossed the room, and loomed over Andrea. “You?” She asked, gently stroking Andrea’s cheek. “You get a choice. I could, if I wanted to, take you right here and right now. But frankly, that sounds boring. Because you know what I think? I think I don’t need to. I think you crave a life at my feet. I think this was who you really were all along: a submissive, needy little plaything who wants a Mistress to control every facet of her life. That’s why taking you for myself was so easy. So what’s it going to be? Will you walk out of here, escape to some new life somewhere else? Or, will you kiss your Mistress’ pussy and submit yourself to the fate of being my good girl forever? Think it over, but I think we both know what you're going to choose. I promise I'll take very good care of you.”

Did she even have a choice? She'd already resigned herself to a life of submission to Laureen before she was taken. And at this point getting an owner who seemed kinder than that cruel sadist seemed like a relief. Like a gift. In a way, Andrea was glad it was Rose who owned her mind. In many ways Rose had seemed like a knight in shining armor stepping on to the scene all confident and poised to rescue her from Laureen’s cruelty, and whisk her away safely to a life of submissive bliss. Besides, Andrea grown quite fond of Rose. Perhaps she had even come to love Rose. But was she then to simply give in? Perhaps it was a relief that, even as her mind tried to debate the right course of action, Andrea’s body was already sliding out of her chair. It took the hard choices away, just like Mistress would do, for the rest of her life. She sank to her knees and needily pawed at her Mistress’ crotch. Giggling, Mistress removed her pants, then her panties, exposing her warm, wet sex to the cool air. And plaything, full of eager love and affection for her Mistress, leaned in to seal her fate. 

* * *

Sunlight reflected off the shining frames of her shades, and gently settled upon Rose’s skin wherever her lounge-chair’s umbrella failed to cast its shadow. The cool sweat of a freshly mixed whisky sour dripped onto her knuckles as she lazily sipped at the tart, refreshing drink. Beside her, one of her playthings—a redhead named Corrine dressed in nothing but a bra and short shorts—slowly, rhythmically waved a palm-frond over her Mistress; the docile, empty smile plastered on her face matched her vacant eyes. Resting atop her, with her head gently placed against Rose’s breast, was far and away the Mistress’ absolute favorite of all her playthings, Andi. Smiling affectionately, Rose brushed her fingers through Andi’s adorable chestnut curls, eliciting a soft coo. Rose giggled, and in response, her treasured plaything nuzzled against Rose languidly. 

Neither woman had a care in the world. Rose’s affairs and cover were effectively managed by Laurey, who found herself stewing in pleasure and arousal every time she commanded someone on behalf of her Mistress. And, Rose’s prized plaything, a treasured possession more helpless, needy, and submissive than any and all of Rose’s other playthings, happily basked in the affection of her Mistress’ ownership. She felt a profound sense of safety and comfort, knowing her thoughts were not her own, knowing her life belonged to someone else who would look after her, knowing she had one purpose in life: to serve. Above her, Andi’s Mistress stirred, murmuring a small, nearly inaudible command. Happily, Andi began to kiss down her Mistress’ belly, before pressing her face between her Mistress’ legs, and beginning her morning act of worship. To Rose, getting to spend every morning like this was simply paradise. And, even if she could think for herself, Andi, or plaything, or whomever she was from one moment to the next, would agree.