You were my husband but I’ve slowly reduced you to nothing but a slave. You now live in the annex and I call you on the intercom when I want something. I’ve hired a wealth manager to keep your money multiplying for me without your interference. You must worship me as a living god, spending every minute either in worship to me or performing my commands. Your prayers include how grateful you are to serve me, how you love me no matter what and how much better your life is now that you’ve found your true purpose. I discuss the controls and rules that I’ve placed on you and how easy it was to break you with the reward/punishment system. I control your orgasms and let you worship my body if you’ve pleased me. To punish you, I will whip or spank you, remove privileges, or lock you in a cage. There are some grey areas that are pleasurable for you in a way but are largely designed to flaunt or maintain my control over you. I’ll wave your credit card in your face before I go out shopping, leaving you in the cage, and when I return, I show off my purchases to you. Sometimes I lock you in the cage and masturbate in the dungeon to make you frustrated and even more obedient, and to reinforce that I don’t need you for my sexual pleasure. You’re not allowed to think about anything other than me. You’re not allowed to read books or watch movies other than my clips. You catch glimpses of the news sometimes when you’re serving me in the house and it reminds you of how disconnected from real life you are because your new reality is as my slave. You’re thankful that I don’t let you watch the news because it’s stressful knowing what’s going on outside. Ignorance is bliss. Serving Goddess is bliss. I remind you that being able to come into the house with me is a privilege and I could easily hire a cleaner or order takeout and you wouldn’t see me for several days. Today, I’m having you sign powers of attorney and guardianship over you so that I no longer need your consent to make designs on your behalf. Legally, I completely own you.