It’s good that I have a new slave, but she’s a classmate from the same school, the same class, and someone who sits next to me.
Coming this far, I’ll respect her wishes and hold back.
However, I would like to see something done about the collar.
So I immediately went to the city to buy her a choker and asked her to replace it with her collar, but for some reason, she stubbornly refused my offer. I had to resort to my trump card, a dogeza.
Finally, after getting down on my knees, I convinced her to switch from a black leather dog collar to a black choker.
It is a quintessential technique of mine.
Once I do it, everything is as I wish, but for some reason, I feel like I’ve lost my dignity as a man. I’m sure it’s just my imagination.
In case you are wondering, according to Bridgette, her family, the Modells, got taken over because of the evidence from the incident and their attempt at overthrowing the state.
She also threatened them that the moment she dies or goes missing, all the evidence she possesses will get sent to the appropriate place. So, she will be safe for the time being.
I feel like an hour won’t be enough to ask what is wrong with her.
Incidentally, like the other slaves, she could be enslaved without a collar, but I could not say no when she begged while crying in the street that she could not give up on it.
When I asked her if it was not cowardly to cry over a collar, she said it was better than seeing the master to whom she swore allegiance getting down on his knees, and I could say nothing back.
So the next day, Bridgette was sitting next to me, lovingly touching the choker she wore around her neck, ostensibly taking the class seriously.
The only noticeable change is that she no longer goes to see His Highness Claude at recess time.
Even so, His Highness Claude is always surrounded by his female cronies, so no one would notice if Bridgette were to slip away from them.
The only change I notice is from Lady Sufia.
She now happily talks with His Highness Prince Claude, her cheeks tinted.
After all, not only was her engagement broken off by me, her garbage fiancée, without disgraceful rumours causing her to be called a poor young lady, but she also got into an environment where she could more easily talk to His Highness Prince Claude.
Though I’m glad she’s happy.
“Master…”
“I don’t want you to call me that in the academy. You can call me Kaisar as you have always called me in order to avoid suspicion.”
“S-sorry.”
“So, what’s up?”
“Does Kaisar, regarding Lady Sufia… No, never mind.”
“Oh, h**l, whatever.”
At any rate, I concluded that all’s well that ends well, despite the irregularity of Bridgette’s case.