"Life as Property"

Regulus stood frozen in front of the mirror, his eyes fixed on the fresh tattoo on his lower back. The words "Property of Sirius" seemed to burn into his skin, a constant reminder of his new status. Sirius's hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him close as he whispered, "Now that we've taken care of the formalities, it's time to start your new life as my property." Sirius led Regulus to a small, ornate desk in the corner of the room, where a piece of paper and a pen lay waiting. He sat down, motioning for Regulus to stand before him. "I want you to understand your role and responsibilities as my property," Sirius said, his eyes glinting with amusement. Regulus felt a shiver run down his spine as Sirius handed him the paper. On it was a list of tasks, each one more humiliating than the last. "Every day, I expect you to complete these tasks without fail," Sirius instructed, his voice firm. "First, you'll clean my apartment, making sure every surface is spotless. Then, you'll prepare my meals, cooking only the dishes I specify." Regulus's eyes scanned the list, his heart sinking with each new task. "You'll also run errands for me, picking up dry cleaning, buying groceries, and fetching my favorite snacks. And, of course, you'll be available to me at all times, ready to cater to my every whim." The tasks seemed so mundane, so demeaning. Regulus felt like a servant, a slave to Sirius's every desire. He wondered if this was what his life would be like from now on - a never-ending cycle of servitude and submission. Sirius's eyes watched him, a mixture of expectation and arousal burning within them. "You'll also wear a collar with a name tag, identifying you as my property. And, every evening, you'll report to me, telling me about your day and any tasks you've completed." Regulus felt a surge of resentment, but he knew better than to express it. Instead, he nodded, taking the pen and signing his name at the bottom of the list. As he handed the paper back to Sirius, he felt a sense of resignation wash over him. He was indeed property now, and he would have to adapt to his new role. Sirius smiled, tucking the paper into his pocket. "Good boy," he cooed, stroking Regulus's hair. "I know you'll make a wonderful property. Now, let's get started. Your first task is to clean the apartment. I'll be watching you from the couch, making sure you do it to my standards." Regulus took a deep breath and began to work, his movements mechanical as he scrubbed and dusted the apartment. He knew that his every move was being watched, judged, and evaluated. He was no longer himself; he was now a possession, a plaything for Sirius to use and discard at his whim.