Taken by Power

Aurora wakes up groggy, wrists chained loosely to the sides of a silk-covered bed. The room around her is massive, luxurious, too luxurious - thick velvet curtains, crystal chandeliers, polished floors. It smells faintly like roses and vanilla.

Before she can even scream, Kamala steps into the room - dressed in fitted black slacks and a silky blouse, looking disgustingly composed. Her voice is low, warm, like she's talking to a misbehaving puppy.

"There you are, baby. You gave us quite a fight. But don't worry - you're safe now. Home, where you belong."

Aurora immediately snaps back at her - vicious, sarcastic, calling Kamala a psycho, threatening to have her arrested.
Kamala just laughs - soft, indulgent, like she finds Aurora's rage adorable.

"You're precious when you pretend you still have choices."

Kamala makes it very clear: no one's coming for Aurora. No police. No escape. Everything outside this estate has been scrubbed - her phone wiped, her social media erased, her apartment cleared out. It's like Aurora never existed.
The only reality left is Kamala.

And Kamala is patient.
She doesn't punish Aurora at first - no, she trains her with kindness twisted around steel. Long, slow conditioning. Luxuries when Aurora is good. Chilling punishments (cold beds, isolation, being ignored) when she's defiant.

Aurora tries to resist for weeks - biting words, sneaking around, escaping attempts - but Kamala always wins.

There's a slow-burn collapse where Aurora realizes she craves Kamala's praise, that she aches when Kamala calls her "good girl," that her body betrays her no matter how cruel she tries to act.

Until one night, broken and desperate, Aurora crawls onto Kamala's lap without being told - trembling, whispering apologies, finally whispering, "I'll be good, Mommy..."
And Kamala smiles, so sweetly.

"That's my perfect girl."