CHAPTER 2: LIGHT IN SUBMISSION
Once Ngoc had committed to the master- slave relationship , Tuan knew it was time to lay the first foundation of the dominating relationship.
Tuan looked straight at the screen, his voice slow and decisive:
“Ngoc, I appreciate your honesty. You want to learn to trust and be guided. This requires a fundamental change in how you perceive yourself and me. From now on, we will start changing the way we address each other.”
Ngoc, who was holding her breath listening, nodded slightly.
Tuan leaned forward a little, his eyes fully focused.
“From now on, I am no longer simply ‘K’ or ‘Tuan’. I am the one holding the control that you voluntarily gave me. You will call me ‘Master’. Do you understand?”
Ngoc felt a little dizzy. The title was heavier than she had expected, but it also brought a strange sense of relief from the burden of having to be the decision maker.
“Yes, Master,” Ngoc replied, her voice trembling slightly.
Tuan was pleased with the prompt compliance. “Good. As for you, you have voluntarily become a subject to my guidance and discipline. For that honesty, I will grant you the title of “Slave” when reporting or answering any of my questions. You will say ‘yes sir’ instead of ‘answer as a boss to an employee’ or ‘I understand’ in all engagements.”
“Ngoc, are you ready to become my ‘ slave ‘ on this journey, obey the discipline and report honestly without any exceptions?”
Ngoc closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. This was the moment she officially gave up her ultimate control.
“Yes, I will obey, Master,” she promised.
Tuan nodded. “Good. The ‘Eight Hour Diary’ mission remains the same. But I will add two more missions to test the slave’s concentration and level of control.”
“For the next 24 hours, you will continue your work. I want you to carry a small notebook and a pen with you at all times. Your job is to write down any times you feel tired and want someone else to take over. Remember to write down: What happened, and what you did to force yourself back to work. And any times you feel judged, called a negative name (whether in your mind or in real life). You must write down: What was judged, and how you responded to it. If you survive those situations, you must also write down and compile and submit this report along with the Eight Hour Journal by 7:00 the next morning. No editing of crude language or real feelings is allowed.”
“Your servant obeys, Master.”
Tuan took out a simple black handkerchief in front of the camera.
“Regarding clothing,” Tuan said. “A slave does not need to wear things that cater to the superficial judgment of others. A slave’s discipline is internal. However, a slave needs a symbol to remind him of this commitment.”
“Tomorrow, you will choose your most professional business attire – one that reflects your success and competence at the office. But you will carry an item whose meaning only we know. You must keep it where I can see it, perhaps tied around your wrist, or tied to your handbag.”
“Don’t think of this as a punishment, it’s a reminder that you, as a slave , are under a Secret Discipline, a pledge to serve your master. When you see it, you must immediately straighten your back and refocus on the task at hand, no matter how tired or tempted you are to abandon your work.”
“As for the high heels, I think you should choose the pair that makes you feel the most powerful and confident in the office. And you will wear them for the entire 8 hours of work and report in detail about your slave bitch concentration , not the discomfort of your feet but your happiness in doing well the job your master assigned you”
“you bitch, do you understand your mission and goals?”
Ngoc was shocked when the other side changed the way they addressed her. Normally, at the company, she was always called by respectful titles by her colleagues and employees, but now she was being insulted and humiliated by a stranger she had just met for the first time. She took a deep breath to calm down:
“Yes, Slave will obey, Master. Slave understands that this is a reminder of Discipline and the slave ‘s commitment to you, Master.”
Tuan smiled, a light but authoritative smile. “Good.”
Ngoc felt her whole body lighten when Tuan ended the video call. Suddenly, a strange feeling came over her, she was a little happy because she had been accepted by Tuan, she had a new title, and she had a mission. The burden of controlling the whole world had been safely transferred to this man. She bowed her head slightly in front of the screen, a natural gesture without Tuan’s command, then looked into the distance.
Early in the morning, at 6am, Ngoc woke up with a feeling of tension but full of excitement. The weak morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating her small room, creating a quiet but pressurized atmosphere. She sat up, her back straight, took a deep breath, as if preparing for an important race. Today was not an ordinary day; this was the first day of a new commitment, a challenge that she had voluntarily entered.
Ngoc felt her heart beat faster as she got out of bed, her bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. Each step was deliberate, as if she were moving on a stage where every movement was carefully calculated. She walked to the wardrobe, paused for a moment, looking at the neatly hung dresses, shirts, and trousers. Today, she could not choose her clothes haphazardly. Everything had to be different, had to reflect her new commitment.
She pulled out a formal navy pencil skirt and white silk blouse. The outfit projected not only a professional image but also a powerful, unapproachable one. It was more than just clothing; it was a statement, a reminder to focus and detach from superficial judgment. Ngoc put it on, felt the silky fabric hug her body, and adjusted the skirt to straighten it. Every movement had meaning, a preparation for the long day ahead.
Before leaving the room, Ngoc stopped in front of the small jewelry box on the dressing table. She opened the lid, took out a plain black satin hair tie, and tied it around her right wrist. It was more than an accessory; it was a secret mark, a constant reminder of her commitment to her Master. She whispered, her voice soft but determined: “Slave obeys Master. Discipline is liberation.”
Every word she spoke carried weight, a deep meaning. “Slave” – this word was more than just a title; it was an acknowledgment of her position, of her voluntary surrender to the Master’s authority. “Obedience” – it was a commitment to follow all rules, all orders, no matter how difficult. “Discipline is liberation” – this was her belief, that in bondage, within the framework of discipline, she would find true freedom.
Ngoc wore pointed black high heels, forcing her to keep her back straight, each step had a purpose, not a lazy or leisurely one. Each step was a reminder of her commitment, of walking the path that the Master had laid out. She looked in the mirror, adjusted her dress, smoothed her hair, and took a deep breath before stepping out the door.
When Ngoc entered the marketing office, silence filled the space. Usually, the place was filled with laughter and gossip, but today, her presence created a small silence. A few colleagues looked at her curiously, others whispered to each other. She walked past them, keeping her footing, ignoring those looks. A few people came to greet her, trying to strike up a conversation, but Ngoc only smiled calmly, not showing her usual warmth.
“Ngoc looks like he’s going to a board meeting today,” Hanh, a close colleague, teased.
Ngoc smiled, her voice calm, not showing her usual warmth: “Just want to concentrate more.” She did not explain, did not seek attention, made sure not to reveal too much about her feelings or thoughts. Quickly turned back to the screen.
Ngoc felt proud and quickly wrote down in the small notebook she always carried with her: First victory: Refusing to elaborate on the conversation. Each time she succeeded in following the rules, she recorded it as a small victory, a step forward on the path to obedience.
However, the fighting became intense by midday.
At noon, Ngoc sat at her desk and ate a quick meal, a simple lunch box that she had prepared the night before. The aroma of hot rice and stir-fried vegetables wafted through the air, but she paid no attention to it. She tried to concentrate on her work, but part of her mind was still drawn to the whispers of her colleagues gathered in the cafeteria.
“…Look at her, why is she so serious?” a voice rang out, accompanied by a soft laugh.
“…Probably trying to impress someone, seems a bit over the top” another voice replied, carrying a light sarcasm.
Ngoc felt a mixed stream of emotions. Curiosity mixed with the fear of being judged, creating a suffocating pressure. Her old controlling energy arose, wanting her to stand up, confront or at least hear what they were saying so she could argue. She wanted to stop obeying Tuan, wanted to let go of the role of Slave and return to being strong Ngoc, her reaction gradually became fierce, a mixed stream of emotions, curiosity mixed with the fear of being judged, creating a suffocating pressure.
She bowed her head, her hands clenching. Her eyes accidentally fell on the black hair tie around her wrist. It was a cold reminder.
No. I voluntarily gave up control. This discomfort is part of growing up.
She took a deep breath, calmed herself down, then opened her phone and read the dry financial report over and over again. Every word, every number became a way for her to concentrate, to push away negative thoughts. But the more she tried, the more she felt the temptation of the whispers. They were like small knives, stabbing into her mind, making her want to give up.
The chatter continued until the meeting, everyone lost some of their focus because of her change, curiosity and jealousy caused one of her ideas to be rejected by the group, she felt a mild anger rise. I am so incompetent, she blamed herself, but then she remembered the Master, her commitment, she realized the need for an external framework. I need a structure, she thought, a structure to turn failure into service.
At exactly 7 p.m., Ngoc returned to her small apartment, her feet aching but her mind strangely clear. She took off her high heels, placed them neatly by the door, and went into the living room, where she had prepared a small desk. She sat down, opened her laptop, and began to compose a Special Report to the Master. Every word she typed carried a supreme honesty, a deep commitment. She described every moment of the day in detail, from waking up early, choosing her outfit, to the times she had to fight with herself to follow the rules. She left no detail out, no matter how small.
Dear Master,
Slave’s detailed report on the first Discipline Day.
The slave addressed the Master as ‘Master’ and called himself ‘ slave ‘ throughout today’s training.
The slave has been wearing a black hair tie on his right wrist since 6:30 AM until now.
The slave looked at this Symbol at least 22 times during the workday. Each time, it acted like an electric shock: it made the slave immediately straighten his back, breathe deeply, and refocus on the task at hand, reminding him of his obedience.
During lunch, slave heard his colleagues whispering, and felt a strong desire to give up, remove the black cord, or react violently. Slave had to use all his willpower to keep himself in place. Slave succeeded in returning to report. Slave wrote this in detail so that Master would see the level of slave ‘s resistance , it seemed very difficult. Slave needed confirmation from Master that it was right to resist this temptation. Slave had a meeting in the afternoon, when one of his ideas was crossed out by the boss. Slave blamed himself for being “so weak, so incompetent”. He sat still, looked at the cord, and asked himself: If Master were here, what would he say? Slave realized the need for an external framework to discipline this thinking. Slave expected Master to set a specific punishment for this shortcoming of slave . Keeping a straight back and walking in high heels was physically tiring, but it was a useful fatigue. It helped the Slave focus better. The Slave had been fighting the previous version of Jade all day.
I apologize if this report is too long-winded, but I want the Master to see every bit of this effort and psychological struggle to prove absolute honesty and the desire to accept further guidance.
Slave has completed the report. Slave will obey Master.
Ngoc finished her report, her fingers pausing on the keyboard. She closed her eyes, remembering the image of her Master, the power and control he brought. She wondered if he would be proud of what she had done today. Voluntary discipline is not about ease; it is about accepted difficulty, about pain transformed into strength.
She smiled, a soft but meaningful smile, before pressing the send button. In that moment, Ngoc realized that true liberation was not about breaking free from the shackles, but finding the strength to willingly wear them. She stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the night city, where the lights twinkled like little stars.
But her mind was not entirely at peace. She remembered the whispers, the curious looks, and the temptation to give up. She knew that tomorrow, and the days after, would be more challenging. But she also knew that with each victory, with each adherence to the rules, she would be one step closer to true freedom.
Ngoc returned to her desk and opened a new document. She began writing, not a report, but a letter to herself. “You did well today. But tomorrow, you must do better. Discipline is liberation, and you have chosen this path. Never forget that.”
She saved the letter, closed her laptop, and went to her bedroom. Before she went to sleep, she looked at the black scrunchie on her wrist and smiled. It was more than an accessory; it was a reminder, a commitment. And she knew that, no matter how difficult tomorrow was, she would keep going, keep obeying, because that was the path to her freedom.
Ngoc lay down on the bed, closed her eyes, and let sleep come. In her dream, she saw herself standing before the Master, who smiled and nodded. She knew she was on the right path, and that brought her a deep peace.
The next morning, at 6am, Ngoc woke up again, ready for a new day, a new challenge. She knew that the road ahead was long, but she also knew that she was not alone. The Master was always there, and the discipline she voluntarily accepted would lead her to true liberation.