The Targeted Lover is Joan

Absolute submission

It was a day like any other in Mira’s world of control, but for me, it was a new level of humiliation. Sitting in her grand living room, I felt the weight of her gaze as she lounged on her plush red couch, sipping wine like she had all the time in the world.

I didn’t.

Mia didn’t.

Mira twirled the stem of her glass between her fingers, a small smirk playing on her lips as she finally spoke.

“I’ve decided to take your training to the next level,” she said, her voice smooth as silk but sharp enough to cut.

“Training?” I echoed, my stomach sinking.

She set the glass down and leaned forward. “Yes, Joan. You said you’d do anything for me, didn’t you?”

“For Mia,” I corrected her, my voice quieter than I intended.

Her eyes narrowed, and I instantly regretted it.

“For Mia,” she repeated mockingly. “Of course.” She stood and walked toward me, a slow, deliberate pace that made my pulse quicken. In her hands was something small, black, and glinting in the light.

I stared at it, confused, until realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

“A collar?” I whispered, disbelief thick in my voice.

“Yes,” she said simply, holding it up. The leather strap gleamed, and at its center was a small silver tag. My heart sank when I saw the engraved word: Mira’s dog.

“I’m not a dog,” I said, the words escaping me before I could stop them.

Her laugh was cold and sharp. “Oh, Joan, haven’t you figured it out by now? You are exactly what I say you are.” She leaned closer, holding the collar just inches from my face. “But don’t worry. I’m generous. This isn’t just about me. It’s about proving your loyalty. Showing me how much you’re willing to sacrifice.”

I didn’t move. My hands balled into fists at my sides, but I stayed rooted to the spot. I couldn’t afford to lose this. To lose her.

“Mia needs me,” I muttered, more to myself than to her.

Mira tilted her head, her smirk deepening. “Then prove it.”

******

The collar was heavier than it looked. Not physically, but in the way it made my chest tighten every time I felt the leather against my skin. She’d snapped it around my neck with a deliberate finality, the cool metal tag brushing against my collarbone like a brand.

I sat on the floor by her feet now, just as she’d ordered. My knees ached against the cold marble, but I didn’t dare complain. Not after the last time I’d “displeased” her.

She scrolled through her phone lazily, her fingers tapping against the screen.

“Fetch me some water,” she said casually, not even looking up.

I stood too quickly, the collar tugging at my neck like a cruel reminder of my place. As I hurried to the kitchen, I heard her laugh.

“Crawl,” she called out, her voice light and amused.

I froze, my hand gripping the edge of the counter.

“Joan,” she said, her tone sharp now. “Did you hear me?”

I swallowed hard, feeling the sting of shame rise in my throat. Slowly, I sank to my knees. The cool marble bit into my palms as I crawled back to her, balancing the glass of water in one trembling hand.

When I reached her, she took the glass without a word. She sipped it leisurely, letting the silence stretch until my humiliation was complete.

“Good boy,” she said finally, her voice dripping with mock affection.

Later that evening, Mira called me into her office. It was a room I’d rarely been in, filled with dark wood furniture and an air of quiet menace. She was seated behind her desk, her blue dress clinging to her like it was painted on.

“You made a mistake today,” she said without preamble.

I frowned. “What mistake?”

Her eyes darkened, and I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

“When I told you to fetch me water, you hesitated. Dogs don’t hesitate. They obey.”

“I didn’t mean...”

She held up a hand, silencing me. “I don’t want excuses. I want obedience. And disobedience,” she said, standing and walking toward me, “has consequences.”

Before I could react, she grabbed my chin, tilting my head up to meet her gaze.

“Kneel,” she commanded.

I hesitated for half a second, but the look in her eyes made my legs buckle beneath me.

She reached into a drawer and pulled out a sleek black riding crop. My stomach turned.

“Mira..”

“Shh,” she said, pressing a finger to my lips. “This isn’t about me hurting you, Joan. This is about teaching you. And you’ll thank me for it.”

The first strike landed on my shoulder, the sharp sting making me flinch. She struck again, her movements deliberate and controlled, each one leaving a burning line of pain across my skin.

I bit my lip, refusing to cry out, but the tears came anyway, hot and unbidden.

“Good boy,” she murmured, her voice almost gentle now. “You’re learning.”

Days turned into weeks, and Mira’s demands grew more twisted. She pushed me further each day, testing how far I would go, how much I could endure. The collar never came off. It was a constant reminder of what I’d become.

She started bringing me to her parties, introducing me to her friends with a sly smile.

“This is Joan,” she’d say, her hand resting possessively on my shoulder. “My loyal little dog.”

They’d laugh, but there was always something darker in their eyes. Like they enjoyed seeing someone broken.

One night, after everyone had left, I finally snapped.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I demanded, my voice shaking with anger and exhaustion.

Mira raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my outburst.

“Because I can,” she said simply.

“That’s not a reason!”

She stepped closer, her heels clicking against the floor. “It’s the only reason that matters. Power, Joan. Control. That’s what this is about. And you... you’re just a pawn in my game.”

Her words hit me harder than any of her punishments ever had. I stared at her, my chest heaving, and for the first time, I felt something new.

Hatred.

******

That night, as I lay on the floor by her bed because she’d decided that dogs didn’t deserve beds of their own. I stared at the ceiling and let the rage simmer inside me.

Mia’s face flashed in my mind, her laughter, her warmth. She was the reason I was enduring this. The reason I hadn’t walked away.

But how much longer could I keep going before I lost myself completely?

I clenched my fists, feeling the collar dig into my neck. Mira thought she owned me, but she was wrong. One day, I’d find a way to take back control.

And when that day comes, she’d see what it felt like to be on her knees.