Master and Slave Chapter 8: The Mirror

Chapter 8: The Mirror

Jenika sat silently on the cool floor of the observation room.

Her wrists were cuffed, not for restraint — but as a reminder. A ritual. A statement of ownership. She hadn’t been touched in days. The cage remained locked, her hunger sharpening by the hour, her focus narrowing to a single point: him.

And tonight, that focus was shaken.

Because she wasn’t alone anymore.

Beyond the glass wall stood a second woman. Younger. Dark hair. Lithe frame. Barefoot and blindfolded, wearing only a silk ribbon wrapped tightly across her chest. She knelt where Jenika had once knelt — in his training chamber.

Alex stood behind the new girl, hands light on her shoulders. His voice was calm. Kind, even.

“You’ve taken the first step, little one. But obedience must be more than posture. More than silence.”

The girl nodded quickly.

Jenika didn’t flinch.

Not on the outside.

But something inside her cracked.

She watched him teach — the same words he’d once whispered to her. The same tools laid out on the side table. The same rhythm of praise and precision. But the girl was clumsy. Hesitant. Her posture flawed. Her limbs too tight. Her submission wasn’t real — not yet.

Still, he touched her.

He corrected her with fingertips.

He praised her.

Jenika curled her fingers into fists.

Alex had trained her to be silent, invisible unless summoned — but her heart thundered in protest.

Why her?

Why now?

As if hearing her thoughts, the door behind Jenika clicked open. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate. She didn’t look up until the scent of his cologne hit her like a command.

Alex knelt beside her.

He didn’t touch her.

Just stared.

“She’s not you,” he said simply. “But she could be.”

Jenika’s jaw clenched.

“She’s not ready.”

“No,” he agreed. “But she’s eager. And very pretty when she trembles.”

A pause. Her throat tightened.

“You’re testing me,” she whispered.

His eyes flicked down to her.

“No. I’m reminding you.”

“Of what?”

“That you are replaceable.”

The words sliced deeper than any whip.

Jenika blinked hard, forcing her emotions down. She had begged. Bled. Broken herself for him. And now he was calmly showing her what it would mean to lose her place.

He reached out then, cupping her jaw with firm fingers.

“You forgot something, little one. Pain makes you mine — yes. Denial humbles you. But jealousy? That’s the final chain.”

Tears burned her eyes, but she held them in.

He leaned closer, lips nearly against her cheek.

“I want you to ache, not just for touch — but for my attention. I want you to remember what it costs to earn it.”

Jenika’s lips parted, a single breath escaping.

“Please…” she whispered. “Please don’t replace me.”

Alex didn’t answer.

Instead, he stood and returned to the glass wall.

The new girl was kneeling again, correcting her position under his unseen command.

Jenika stayed on the floor, watching — and unraveling.

She wasn’t sure which hurt more.