The silence that followed the men’s departure was almost palpable, interrupted only by Lívia’s ragged breathing, still sprawled on the table. The smell of sex, wine and burnt wax hung in the air, an intoxicating mix that seemed to mark the room like a newly consecrated temple. Mariana rose from the armchair with the grace of a predator, the leather of her corset stretching slightly as she walked towards Lívia. Her eyes shone with a dangerous satisfaction, as if every moan, every movement of the night had been an offering to her.

"Levanta," ordenou Mariana, a voz agora mais suave, mas carregada de uma autoridade que não deixava espaço para hesitação. Lívia obedeceu, o corpo dolorido e trêmulo, a lingerie preta desalinhada e úmida de suor e outros vestígios da noite. A peruca loira estava ligeiramente desalojada, alguns cachos caindo sobre seu rosto, mas Mariana não se importou em ajustá-la. Em vez disso, pegou a chave do cinto de castidade pendurada em seu pescoço e a balançou diante dos olhos de Lívia, como um símbolo de poder absoluto.

"Do you think you deserve a break?" Mariana asked, tilting her head with a smile that was both cruel and seductive. Lívia opened her mouth to respond, but the words were lost in a hoarse sigh. She just shook her head, her eyes lowered, completely surrendered.

Mariana laughed softly, the sound echoing through the empty room. “Good answer.” She stepped closer, her cool fingers brushing against Livia’s chin, lifting her face to look at her. “But the night isn’t over yet. You’re mine, and I decide when it ends.”

With a quick gesture, Mariana unhooked Livia’s lingerie, leaving her naked except for her chastity belt, which gleamed in the candlelight. She guided Livia to the couch, gently pushing her down so she could sit down. From the corner of the room, Mariana took a small, carved wooden box, opening it with a click that made Livia shiver in anticipation. Inside was a black leather necklace with a silver pendant in the shape of a padlock—a symbol Livia recognized immediately.

“This is yours now,” Mariana said, placing the necklace around Livia’s neck and locking it with a small key she kept for herself. “A permanent mark of who you are. My Livia. My creation.” The weight of the necklace against Livia’s skin was both comforting and oppressive, a constant reminder of her surrender.

Mariana sat down beside her, pulling her closer until Lívia’s head was resting in her lap. Her long fingers slid through the hair of her wig, undoing the knots with unexpected delicacy. For a moment, the silence between them was almost tender, but there was an underlying tension, like the calm before a storm.

“You did well today,” Mariana murmured, her tone almost motherly, but with a hint of possession. “But that was just the beginning. These men? They were a test. The real challenge comes later.” She paused, letting the words hang in the air, before continuing. “I want you to be more than a servant. I want you to be a spectacle. A living work of art. And for that, we’re going to need more… adjustments.”

Lívia looked up, her heart racing. "Adjustments?" she asked, her voice weak but full of curiosity and fear.

Mariana smiled, her teeth shining in the candlelight. "Yes. Tomorrow we will begin to shape you even more. More hormones, maybe a piercing or two... and who knows? Maybe I will take you to a place where more eyes can appreciate what you have become." She leaned in, whispering in Lívia's ear, "You will shine, my dear. Even if it hurts."

Livia swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the necklace and belt, the heat of Mariana's body against hers. There was no choice, no retreat. She belonged to Mariana, and every step forward, no matter how frightening, was part of her consecration.