Jade Ch. 04: Rebirth

The silence of the small room was complete.

Jade lay on her side on the narrow bed, careful to avoid putting pressure on her bruised ass. Her hands rested lightly in front of her, and her eyes slowly scanned the space that now belonged to her. The mattress beneath her was firm, the pillow thin, But for her, after the box, after ten days of sweat, filth, obedience, and pain... this felt like grace.

She reached out and touched the wall. Cool. Smooth. Real.

It grounded her.

There was no command now. No voice in her ear. No green or blue light blinking from nowhere. Just stillness. Just her breath, and the low hum of her pulse finally settling.

She felt different. Her body was sore, marked by the tests -- her breast still ached from the clamps, her pussy swollen from the hot chili pepper, her legs from standing, her ass bruised by the paddle, and from everything that had come before. Ten days folded inside the box had left every joint stiff and throbbing. The act of unfolding herself was its own quiet agony.

But none of it felt like suffering. It felt like a painful kind of growth -- raw, but necessary.

The girl who had been put into that box ten days ago no longer existed. She had been scraped away, burned out, challenged, and broken. Every mantra, every repetition, every silence had hollowed out the space inside her, making room for something new. She was not a girl who was chasing fantasies anymore. For the first time in her life, she felt whole. She was free to be herself. Free to be rebuilt as a slave.

She spent the afternoon in bed, barely moving. The instinct to remain still had been carved deep into her flesh during her time in the box -- not moving was no longer just a rule; it was a reflex. Her muscles remembered the confinement, the stillness, and held her gently in place as though motion itself was forbidden.

Around 5 p. m., Fred returned.

Jade stepped out of the door and followed Fred to the sitting area. He walked over to one of the sofas, sat down with calm authority, then pointed to the floor in front of him.

"Kneel."

She obeyed instantly, lowering herself to her knees without hesitation.

"We have a few things to sort out. But remember -- you are only speaking to answer questions."

"So, first, a question about your hair. How do you remove them?"

"Master, I don't. They are permanently removed."

He raised an eyebrow. "Permanently? What do you mean?"

"My first Master offered me, for my 18th birthday, full-body hair permanent electric removal. As my hair was very light, laser was not possible."

"Really fully? Or are there still some lefts?"

"Yes, there is still a small square over my pussy that has not been removed."

"What size?"

"Two centimeters by four centimeters approximately, Master."

"Oh, that's great -- so we won't have to take care of it."

"Yes Master, it is--"

A sharp shock from her collar cut her off mid-sentence.

Fred calmly reminded her, "You speak only to answer questions."

She nodded silently, accepting the correction.

"Now, in terms of anal sex -- what is your experience?"

"Very small, Master. I've been used anally only a few times, and I've worn a butt plug maybe two or three times."

"Alright," Fred said, calm and measured. "We'll start with small objects, then work your way up."

Jade nodded, then paused.

"Master, may I have permission to speak?"

He looked at her attentively. "Yes, you may."

She kept her eyes lowered. "When you say 'start'... what do you plan for my ass?"

Fred didn't hesitate. His voice was firm, a matter of fact.

"I intend to make your ass wide and loose," Fred said calmly. "Not just trained -- transformed. I want it to stay open, always ready, whether something is inside you or not."

She nodded again, slower this time. A flicker of fear passed through her eyes. Always open -- the words struck her deeper than she expected. Did he mean she might lose control? That she'd no longer be able to hold in her own mess? That she'd become incontinent -- leaking, helpless, ruined?

The thought made her cheeks burn, but she didn't ask. It wasn't her place. Her body was his now, and if that was what he wanted, she would accept it. She had already given him everything -- even the right to decide how she would function.

She looked down, swallowed, then changed the subject.

"I have a question about my past life... Did you really erase it completely?"

Fred smiled gently and answered:

"Yes. All your belongings have been sold, your flat rental contract canceled, everything... Before canceling your cellphone number, I also sent a message to your family and friends, telling them that you decided to change your life completely. That they don't know it, but it was something you had wanted for years -- and that you went somewhere abroad, and that you do not want any more contact with them. You want to be rebuild as a new person. Completely."

She replied -- not with hesitation, but from somewhere deep inside:

"Thank you, Master, for everything you have done for me."

Then it hit her.

She had just thanked the man who had erased her -- who had stripped her past from her life like tearing pages from a book. And yet... it felt right. That gratitude wasn't out of fear or reflex. It came from her heart. Because at last, she was truly at her place.

Fred looked at her in silence, his gaze focused, yet calm. He didn't speak for several minutes. She stayed still.

Then, his voice cut through the quiet. "End of permission to speak."

He let the silence linger a few seconds longer before issuing the next command.

"Stand up. Turn around slowly."

Fred's eyes followed her as she rose and turned. Her movements were smooth and deliberate, as though her entire body answered to rhythm and control. She was tall, striking -- with the elegance of a dancer and the sculpted form of a model. Her legs were long and toned, her hips perfectly proportioned, moving with a natural sway. Her breasts, small and high, suited her lean figure, while her waist curved into the gentle lines of her back and thighs.

There was nothing artificial in her beauty -- it was raw and real, the kind that turned heads and silenced thoughts. Her skin still bore the signs of her ordeal, but they only added to her allure, like battle marks on a warrior. Her green eyes glowed with quiet purpose, and her golden hair cascaded down her shoulders, slightly tousled yet radiant.

Fred watched her for a moment longer, his gaze lingering with open appreciation.

"You are superb," he said, voice calm but firm. "A masterpiece, I will have a great deal of pleasure using you."

His words carried no need for elaboration. There was no shame in them, only truth -- the truth of ownership, of intention, of her new place.

He leaned forward, his tone calm but commanding. "Tell me... do you want to please your Master?"

The answer wasn't a thought. It was a need. A deep, physical ache that pulsed through her body. She didn't just want to obey -- she craved it. Needed to serve. To be used. To be claimed.

Her eyes lifted, steady and burning.

"I exist to please you, Master."

Fred gave a slow nod. No praise. No affection. Just confirmation.

"Good," he said. "Then crawl to me. On all fours."

Despite the soreness in her limbs, she moved without hesitation -- pain already something familiar, something she'd learned to fold into her obedience. She crossed the floor gracefully and knelt between his legs, back straight, hands behind her.

Then he opened his trousers.

And she saw it.

His cock -- her first glimpse -- dropped heavy and hard before her eyes.

She froze.

It was massive. Not just long -- thick. Veins running along its shaft, the head flushed dark and firm. It hung with weight and authority, and for a moment, her breath caught. Her body responded instantly -- a flutter in her belly, a pulse between her legs -- but her mind reeled.

How could that possibly fit in her mouth?

"Hands behind your back," Fred said evenly. "And use your mouth for what it was made for."

She obeyed, trembling now, leaning forward slowly. Her lips parted, tongue reaching out for her first taste of him. The scent hit her first -- raw, male, dizzying. She licked him gently at the base, then up the shaft, reverent, like she was touching something forbidden.

Then she opened wider, trying to take him in.

Her jaw strained. She pushed herself as far as she could -- but it wasn't enough. Her lips barely made it halfway down his length before her gag reflex stopped her cold. Her throat refused. She couldn't take him. Not even close.

Tears pricked her eyes as she kept trying. Sloppy, desperate, humiliated -- but determined. She wanted to be good. She wanted to worship him properly.

But all she could do was suck at his tip and stroke his shaft with her tongue, lips stretched tight and aching around his size. It wasn't service -- it was struggle.

And the worst part? Her pussy throbbed with every humiliating second.

She was soaked. Aching. But still raw -- the burn from earlier punishment was alive inside her. Every twitch of arousal became pain. The more she needed him, the more it hurt. A cruel loop that made her moan around his cock, helpless.

She sucked him like that for long, slow minutes -- her mouth too small, her hunger too big -- until she felt it: the subtle shift in his body, the tension in his thighs.

He was close.

Her whole body tensed with anticipation. She wanted it. Needed to swallow. To be filled.

But just as his cock pulsed, his voice cut through her thoughts:

"Don't swallow, keep my cum in your mouth until I say so,"

A thick, heavy flood filled her mouth in seconds. Hot, salty, overwhelming. Too much. Her cheeks puffed out as she tried to hold it all. The taste hit her immediately -- thick, salty, foreign. She didn't like it. She never had. But that didn't matter. He had given her an order.

She stayed there, kneeling, lips sealed tight, her mouth full of his cum, heart pounding.

Her pussy clenched hard. Pain lanced through her. Her body wanted to come, wanted to swallow -- but she wasn't allowed either.

So she held it -- still, obedient -- the thick bitterness coating her tongue, making her throat tighten. Every second was a test of will, her discomfort mounting, but she didn't move. The weight of his release lingered not just in her mouth, but in the silence between them.

He then stood with quiet authority, the subtle rustle of his clothing being the only sound as he rose from the sofa.

"Stay still. Don't move," he said, his voice low and steady.

A few seconds of silence followed. She remained perfectly still, the command echoing in her mind like a mantra.

"You must learn to move only when instructed," he continued, each word deliberate. "If you have no task and no order, your default is to return to your resting position -- kneeling, silent, attentive and ready to serve. Understood?"

She nodded softly.

Without another word, he stepped away.

She heard the quiet shifting of objects in the room but she did not lift her eyes to look. She knew better. Her gaze stayed fixed on the floor in front of her, unfocused yet alert.

The air around her grew heavy with anticipation. Every second stretched, each small noise a question without answer. She remained motionless. And deep inside her, something settled. This stillness... it wasn't passiveness. It was discipline. Readiness. Devotion.

He finally told her to come to him. He was standing in front of the door to her room.

Jade joined him, still moving carefully, her body adjusting to this new phase. Inside the room, she noticed a few new items neatly arranged on a small shelf.

Fred pointed to them calmly, listing each one with clinical clarity.

"Here is your towel, shower gel, shampoo and conditioner. You have body and face cream, a hair dryer, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a scale."

She observed each object with quiet attention, registering them not just as comforts, but as tools for discipline and routine. It felt oddly reassuring -- structure, clarity, order. Small items, but each carried meaning.

Fred stepped into the room behind her and gestured toward a small flat screen mounted on the inside of the door, roughly the size of a sheet of paper.

"This is your task interface," he said, his voice steady. "It's a touchscreen. It will activate automatically to give you instructions. If they are not completed in time, there will be consequences -- just like during your time in your storage box."

Jade listened carefully; eyes fixed on the screen as he continued.

"From now on, this screen will also guide your daily recitation. Just like in the box, each mantra will be linked to a color. But the color assignments will change every day."

He reached forward and tapped the screen lightly.

"As you see, there are two tabs: one for Mantras and one for Weight."

He tapped the Mantras tab. A simple list appeared, each line associated with a colored square.

"You'll have to memorize the color-to-mantra mapping every morning. When the screen shows a color, you will need to recite the corresponding mantra fifty times. Errors will be corrected -- as in your box."

Then he tapped the Weight tab. A blank entry field appeared with a digital scale icon.

"You will weigh yourself everyday. The results will be recorded here. This allows me to define the quantity of food you need."

Also, when the screen blink white flashes, it means you should masturbate. You do so until you are close to have an orgasm or for at least 5 minutes. But remember orgasm are forbidden.

Jade nodded to show she was following.

Fred stepped back, his presence still commanding even in silence.

"Finally, audio commands may also be delivered at any time" he breifely paused

"and when you are not actively performing a task, your resting position is here" -- he pointed at the bed -- kneeling, back straight, eyes lowered, legs spread apart.."

He paused, studying her expression.

"Have you understood everything?"

Jade nodded without hesitation, she could not speak as her mouth was still full of his cum.

Then Fred turned toward the small shower stall at the far end of the room and gestured for her to follow his gaze.

"This shower has two hoses," he explained, gesturing to the fixtures. "You switch between them using this valve."

He tapped the control with two fingers, calm and precise.

"The main one is for normal washing. The second is for enemas."

His tone stayed steady, almost instructional -- but there was no mistaking the authority beneath it.

"You'll shower twice a day -- morning and evening. Each time, I expect you to clean yourself thoroughly. That includes your ass. No shortcuts. I want you spotless, inside and out."

He let that settle in the air for a moment before stepping out of the room. And he gave a final command before closing the door:

"I'll be back in a bit for your dinner, you can rest on the bed in the position you want and you can swallow my cum now"

She finally was allowed to swallow, that was a relief because the smell of cum in her mouth had become quite overwhelming.

Before laying down, Jade took a moment to examine the small items neatly arranged in her room. She picked up the body cream -- the label simple, the bottle unassuming -- and unscrewed the cap. A delicate scent of jasmine met her, floral and warm. It wrapped around her like a memory she'd never lived, soft and comforting, yet unmistakably grounding. She inhaled deeply, letting the fragrance settle into her.

Then she lay down on her bed. Her body relaxed into the thin mattress, her sore limbs slowly surrendering to the stillness. Around her, the modest belongings -- the towel, the shampoo, the cream -- became symbols of something larger. A life reduced in noise, but rich in meaning.

This was her room. Her world now. And in that quiet world, she felt good. Happy. Safe. Guided.

The chaos of her past -- the pressure, the noise, the constant demand to be someone -- seemed impossibly far away. Here, she didn't have to pretend. She didn't have to choose. She simply had to be.

And in that surrender, she discovered the first flicker of something real: freedom. A kind she never imagined -- the freedom to be herself, an object, a slave.

She smiled faintly, her eyes growing heavy. This was where she belonged. Not as someone chasing answers, but as someone who had found them. No decisions to make. No masks to wear. Just stillness and obedience.

She remained on the bed for about an hour, still and peaceful. Her body ached, but her mind floated in quiet contentment. She was finally where she needed to be.

Then, softly, the door opened. Fred stepped into the room carrying two simple bowls. One was full, the other empty.

Without speaking at first, he walked over to the small sink. He placed the bowl of food just beneath it, then turned on the tap and filled the second bowl with cool, clear water. He set it down gently beside the first.

Then he turned to her.

"This is your water and your food," he said. His voice was calm, direct, without judgment or emphasis -- just instructions.

"You will not use your hands when eating or drinking. You'll stay on all fours, with your hands placed on either side of the bowl. You are only allowed to eat or drink from those bowls, Understood?"

"Yes, Master," she answered without hesitation, her voice steady and accepting.

"You must always finish your dinner."

"Yes, Master."

Then Fred said calmly, "Wait here."

He stepped out and returned shortly, holding a white box. He placed it on the counter near the sink.

"These are suppositories," he said.

He met her eyes, steady and composed. "They're formulated with food supplements and essential oils to support your health, do you know how to use suppositories?"

She nodded. "Yes, Master."

"Good. You may eat now."

With that, he turned and left the room, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Jade approached the bowls and lowered herself onto all fours, her hands positioned carefully on either side of the food bowl. The posture felt strange, but it also grounded her. It reminded her of where she was, of what she had chosen.

She leaned forward and took her first bite.

The food was a thick, brownish paste with almost no scent -- but the taste hit her immediately. It was bitter and oddly metallic, with a texture that clung to her tongue in an unpleasant way. There was no seasoning, no comfort, no attempt to make it palatable. It was food only in the most functional sense.

Each mouthful was a challenge.

But she didn't stop. The rules were simple: she was to finish her dinner. So she did. Slowly, with quiet effort, she forced herself to eat, bite after bite. Her stomach turned once or twice, but she held steady, focused only on the task.

When she reached the bottom of the bowl, she exhaled quietly. Her mouth still carried the taste -- stale and lingering. She shifted toward the water bowl, brought her face down, and drank. The water was cool and clean. It helped rinse away the aftertaste and brought a small measure of relief.

She then returned from the bowls to her resting position on the bed -- silent, still, and calm.

She stayed in her resting position for no more than ten minutes before the calm voice of Fred returned through the speaker:

"Time for your toilet. Brush your teeth first, then shower."

Jade stood at once and moved with quiet focus. She brushed her teeth carefully, savoring the clean taste it left in her mouth. Then she stepped into the shower, letting the warm stream wash over her body. The sensation was grounding. After everything she had endured, the water was simple, comforting -- almost tender.

Then she turned to the second hose.

Fred had explained its purpose, and she remembered it clearly. This was not just a shower -- it was a full cleansing, an act of obedience and care. She examined the hose for a moment, her breath slowing. It was unfamiliar, a little strange, and undeniably intimate. But she didn't hesitate.

The first moment she used it, she felt a sudden internal pressure -- a swelling discomfort that surprised her. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. There was no pain, only a rising fullness, an odd vulnerability that reached deeper than she expected. Her face flushed slightly, though she was alone.

When she felt full, she knelt and let the release happen. It was strange, awkward even, but also deeply purging -- like something within her was being carried away with the water. The act was physical, but the feeling was emotional too: a quiet surrender, a small ritual of control.

She repeated the process patiently. Each time the sensation grew more familiar, and she began to find a rhythm. By the final round, when the water ran clear, the discomfort had faded. In its place came a sense of lightness -- not just in her body, but in her mind.

Afterwards, she turned the shower back to its original setting and washed herself a second time. The water soothed her, rinsing away not only the physical sensations but the strange tension that had clung to her thoughts. As she rinsed her skin, she noted quietly to herself: Next time, I'll begin with the enema and finish with the shower. That makes more sense.

She dried herself slowly and stepped back to her resting position, quiet and composed. Her thoughts were calm, her focus sharp, she wait just waiting for further instructions.

She didn't have to wait long. Fred voice echoed softly through the room:

"Insert one suppository. Then go to bed."

Jade stood and walked over to the small box Fred had pointed out earlier. Inside, neatly arranged, were nine cream-colored suppositories. They weren't medical -- at least not in the usual sense. Each was thick and dense-looking, nearly six centimeters long and about three wide at the base. Purpose-built. Intimidating.

She paused for a moment, then picked one up.

Lowering herself into a squat, she brought it behind her and pressed the smooth tip against her tight, unprepared entrance. Her body resisted immediately. She was far from stretched, and the sheer girth made insertion difficult. She had to push hard, her fingers steady, until it finally slipped past the ring of muscle with a dull, wet pop.

Her breath caught as her ass stretched sharply around it. The fullness settled deep inside her, leaving a pressure that was foreign and inescapable.

It didn't feel good or bad -- just intrusive. She couldn't ignore it.

But she didn't try to.

This was part of her new life. No questions. No protests.

She returned to her bed and lay down. The light turned off automatically the moment her body touched the mattress. Wrapped in quiet and stillness, Jade exhaled slowly. Her limbs softened into the bedding, her body finally allowed to rest.

There were no thoughts of resistance, no lingering echoes of confusion -- only a quiet pride that filled her from within. That very morning, she had awakened in the box -- cold, sore, and uncertain. And now, she lay in a real bed. A space of her own. A space given to her because she had earned it. She had passed every test. She had endured, followed, obeyed. She had satisfied her Master.

And as her eyes closed in the dark, a quiet sense of fulfillment bloomed inside her. She had taken her first true steps -- not into a fantasy, but into her purpose. She wasn't just beginning a new life. She was being reborn.

Reborn as an object. A slave.

No longer her own. No longer someone. She belonged -- fully, finally -- to him.