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Delilah let out a frustrated sigh as she attempted to explain further. "okay, yes. But sex is super important. Like way more important that I used to think. And yeah of course there's more to it than that, but... I don't know, it's complicated. So, when we were together we just kind of existed without any direction or purpose. We just kind of did what felt good and tried to work things out as we went along, and that was fine I guess. But now with mamma, there's none of that uncertainty or guess-work. We both know exactly what we're doing and I finally feel like I have a purpose!"

"But that purpose is being a sex object for someone else!" The conversation certainly wasn't doing much to calm his concerns so far.

"Maybe... but it's a purpose that I can have certainty and confidence in. What was I doing before? Washing bed sheets and cleaning windows? I didn't care about any of that, and it didn't make me happy!"

"And this does?... make you happy?" Perhaps it was because he'd spent his life being groomed as a ruler, but the idea of finding happiness in being beneath someone else seemed unfathomable to him.

"Yes." She answered confidently. "I can easily say I'm happier now than I ever have been."

That was what he had come here to find out, but he wasn't sure if he completely believed her. In part, it was because he didn't want to believe her. He didn't want to believe that the woman he had spent the past several years of his life madly in love with would rather be a sex toy than be with him. Mostly he didn't want to believe that it was possible for submission to create happiness because he knew that if that were true, it was more than likely that he would soon fall victim to the same fat as Delilah.

"But...but you're a slave!" He continued to try and convince both her and himself.

Delilah winced and slightly recoiled at his tone. "Well, slave probably isn't the right word to use. I know how it must look, but it really is wonderful. Yes, mamma controls my life now, but in doing so she has completely removed all the stress and worry from it. I don't need to be concerned about any of the little things like what I'm going to wear or what I'm going to do that day because mamma takes care of all that, and she takes care of me. All that's left for me to do is enjoy life!"

She stared happily off into space as she thought about her new life, seemingly completely content in her existence. Peter meanwhile sat with a puzzled expression plastered on his face as he attempted to parse what she was saying. She acted as though Mugg-Ran were some kind of savior for her, who swooped in and established order in her life where none existed before. An image he found somewhat difficult to reconcile with how he saw her, as a sadistic barbarian who raped an innocent girl so hard her brain melted and then reluctantly decided to keep her as a pet. Surely he could convince her that Mugg-Ran was no good for her, he had seen the rough way she treated her and doubted that she enjoyed any of that.

"But doesn't she... hit you though? I've seen her slap you before." It pained him to see someone mistreat her like that and he couldn't fathom how she could possibly defend that kind of action.

"Oh yeah, mamma hits me a lot!" She chirped in excitement, her face not changing at all from her distant smiling expression. "But not in a mean way, I like it when she hits me!"

"You do?" He exclaimed, confounded. "But what if she hurts you, like seriously injures you?"

Delilah looked at him quizzically for a moment as if she didn't understand his question.

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