The Luna in Me

The door closed softly behind me, the click echoing too loudly in the tiled room. I stood there, dripping on the floor, hair plastered against my face and shoulders, the thin linen clinging damp and heavy to my skin. The scent of roses hung in the air, thick and sweet, curling into my nose until it almost made me dizzy. Steam clouded the mirrors, softening the edges of everything, as though the room itself were trying to hide me from what came next. The bath waited in the center, deep and brimming with water so hot the surface trembled. I’d been cold for so long - my toes numb from the mud, my hands raw from the rain - that the warmth felt like it belonged to someone else. My body ached to sink into it, but my mind held me at a distance, rooted to the threshold. Miss Clearway’s voice lingered in my head, gentle but unyielding: Wash yourself properly. You’ll be seen soon enough, and appearances matter here. Miss Waters had said nothing, only watched with eyes that softened in pity but

Miss Clearway’s words echoed in my head as I carefully pulled the shift over my head. He does not tolerate delay or hesitation. I stood before him, naked, my shift clung awkwardly in my fist. I tried desperately to slow my breathing. “Lay the shift on the bed, then stand back where you are, arms folded behind your back. Do you understand?” His voice was cold and commanding. “Yes… Alpha,” I stammered. In three quick strides, he closed the gap between us and, before I even saw it coming, a slap landed hard across my face, knocking me to the ground. The taste of blood laced my lips as I fought back tears. “Stand!” his voice boomed. I stumbled to my feet, fixing my eyes firmly to the ground. “I am not your Alpha. I am the Alpha of the Knight Moon Pack and its members. You are not a member of the pack. You are my Athena, my slave. I am your Master, and you will address me as such.” “Sorry… Master,” my voice shook, barely above a whisper. “I believe I gave you an order.” His voice was f

“Good,” he said before pulling the weights of my breasts. I let out a sharp breath as the clamps pinched me and the blood rushed back. My Master loosened the strap around my head and neck and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead. He then made his way down my body, loosening the straps until I was no longer restrained. “I want you to kneel, resting your bottom on your heels.” “Yes, Master,” I said and quickly stumbled off the bench and into the position, wincing through the pain still radiating in my body. He put the tip of his shoe between my knees and moved it back and forth. “Spread them,” he demanded. I did as he asked, moving my legs apart, leaving myself feeling exposed and vulnerable. “Perfect,” he said once I knelt with my legs uncomfortably wide. “Fold your arms behind your back, keep your posture straight, and look at me.” I tried to keep a straight face as my folded arms made contact with my bruised and beaten back. The position left me open, with my breasts thrust out b

The water had long gone lukewarm when I finally forced myself to move. My skin was flushed, tender, but scrubbed clean. I climbed from the bath on unsteady legs, water trailing down my body and dripping onto the tiles. The collar felt heavier now that the rest of me was clean, an alien weight that didn’t belong to this body - and yet declared it. I wrapped myself in a towel from the rail and stepped back into the room. They were waiting. Miss Clearway and Miss Waters stood near the desk, composed as always. Between them, a woman I didn’t recognise had laid out small jars, cloths, and bottles in careful order. She was older, her greying hair plaited close to her head, her expression calm in that way people wore when they had seen far worse before. On the desk beside her sat a plate of food - plain bread, cold meat, slices of apple. The smell was mild, almost comforting. “You’ll eat first,” Miss Waters said. My stomach curled, protesting at the thought, but she nodded to the plate a