Chapter 7: The Collared Princess

Scene 31 (discussion of slavery)

Once the carriage was moving, Damascus could start to relax. He closed his eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths, pulling his thoughts away from the facade. From the mask he wore over his attitudes, his emotions, even his name.

After a moment, even without a physical change, Valerie opened her eyes and let out a sigh. One hand idly scratched along her chest while she looked across to her partner. Zofia was quiet, just staring out the window with an impassive look on her face.

Valerie softly cleared her throat. “Zofia? How are you feeling?”

It was like her words broke a spell and put Zofia back into motion. She drew her hood back and shook out her long, pink hair. “Frustrated that we couldn’t save her yet,” she said. “But confident that we will.” Was there something different in her tone? It seemed like the same calm that she usually spoke with, but Val felt like there was... something she couldn’t place.

Still, it made Val smile. How like Zofia, for her answer to focus first on her subject, not herself. “I meant, how do you feel, now that you’ve actually ... played the role?”

Zofia ... smiled. It wasn’t like any smile Valerie had seen on her before. “That was fine.”

That was it? Val raised an incredulous eyebrow.

Zofia’s smile turned amused. “Valerie, you assured me that you would not doubt me again.” She lay a hand on the seat between them.

“I don’t doubt you.” Valerie turned in her seat, facing Zofia with her full attention. “I know you’re more than strong enough to do this. But I have a responsibility to keep you strong. I can’t be kind while we’re in-character, but you should know that as soon as we’re out, I’m here for you. To take care of you.”

The words alone felt hollow. By instinct, Val took Zofia’s hand, and only thought better of it a split-second later. It wasn’t the touch of a master to a slave, but that of a partner showing care; but that was maybe too much. Flirting was one thing, but actually touching the princess seemed too bold.

But Zofia linked their fingers and squeezed her hand in return. She was perfectly steady. “Thank you.” She tilted her head. “What kind of care would you usually take?”

Cuddling, Val thought. Gentle touches and soft words. Those thoughts made her cheeks flush, her breath quickening at the thought, but she didn’t actually offer that kind of aftercare aloud. She fidgeted where she sat; it was impossible to get comfortable in those seats. “Talking about what happened, mostly. How it made you feel.” Sweet Lady, she’d treated her like a pet. “Princess, the way I touched you—”

Zofia’s face turned thoughtful, a small furrow on her brow. “I think ... I need some time to think about that. To sort through my feelings.”

“Of course.” Val would apologise for the disrespect later. “Come let me know when you’re ready?”

Zofia nodded. She hadn’t made any move to take her hand back from Valerie. “What about you, Valerie? I felt how you tensed while we were in there.”

When Jay had dropped his hint about being ‘shy’ with Zofia. Val turned her eyes towards the window. “It was a close call. I almost had to strip you to sell our cover.”

The princess didn’t respond to the implied warning. “Before that.”

“What— oh.” When Jay had started touching Melisa. Valerie herself hadn’t noticed getting tense, not at the time. How had Zofia? Val sighed, watching each lamp post they passed. Focusing on that light kept her from seeing images of the woman on her knees. “I have nothing to complain about.”

“Valerie.”

Part of her wished they would just reach the bordello already, but the driver knew to take a circuitous route, just in case the Owls had set someone to follow them. Val would share a long ride with her. She couldn’t deflect the questions forever. “Compared to you, compared to Melisa, I have nothing to complain about.”

Zofia stayed silently attentive.

Val knew the silence was a trick; knew it was a ploy to get her to keep talking. She probably knew it was a trick more consciously than Zofia did. But it still worked. “I hated leaving her there. But beyond that, I hated... contributing.”

Zofia was a more curious kind of quiet for a moment, puzzling it out. “Contributing to her treatment, you mean. You hated that you had to watch her, the same as any Owl would.”

“It’s stupid,” Val said. “It’s petty. Watching a woman get groped is the least of what’ll happen at Darlinalia, and the worst of what I’ll do at Darlinalia is nothing. A little guilty conscience is nothing compared to the experience of the people on the receiving end.”

Zofia put her other hand atop Val’s. “The fact you care about this matters, Valerie. It makes me feel better about trusting you with this.” She tapped her collar.

It looks so good on her. The thought jumped unbidden into Val’s head, and she tried immediately to shake it off. This wasn’t some play behind closed doors, this was serious. Her pulse sped up at the thought of that kind of play with Zofia, and she tried to push that thought away too.

Even so, feeling Zofia’s deft, strong fingers between and upon hers helped soothe the sting. Looking into her tourmaline eyes and hearing her words chipped away at Val’s sour, guilty mood. It was ridiculous; Zofia should have been the one receiving comfort, not giving it. But giving what she should have taken was just Zofia all over, wasn’t it? Val didn’t think there’d been a monarch in history who gave her subjects as much service.

So she gave Zofia a small smile. “Thank you.” Still, even with that compassion, she couldn’t get comfortable. Her free hand fidgeted with her jacket; the suit fit all wrong.

“You’re uncomfortable,” Zofia said. “Will you take a potion when we get back?”

That cut straight to the heart of the matter. It wasn’t the seat; the carriage’s seats were plush and pleasant. It wasn’t the suit; it was tailored perfectly. But it was tailored perfectly to the wrong body. Val felt seen in a way she rarely had from someone who wasn’t trans herself, her blush growing hotter.

Her smile strengthened a little more. “Maybe.” She squeezed Zofia’s hand. “Even a small dose will last the rest of the night. Might be just what I need.”

“What do you think you’ll make tonight?”

Valerie hadn’t decided. So she talked through the options she was thinking of — the different ingredients, the ways each could change the transfiguration result. Zofia got her talking about alchemy, and practically before she knew it, they were back at Lady Margaret’s.

Scene 32

They parted ways and Zofia went up to her suite. With the night’s deception done, she was free to change out of that role.

They had never even locked her collar. Their story was that she was a willing slave, so she needed no padlock. At any time, she could take it off and stop even pretending.

Instead, she just sat there for a long while, holding her tiara in both hands. Looking at it, turning it over in her hands while she turned the situation over in her mind.

It had been wonderful, her master caressing her. Soothing in ways she’d never known before. For a little while, the only expectations on her were to kneel and let Valerie touch her. And after that rest, she felt stronger than she’d ever remembered being. The cracks in her heart weren’t just filled in, but repaired. Reinforced by that affection.

It had not just been part of their ruse. True, maybe Zofia couldn’t tell the difference between ‘true’ petting and false, if there was such a thing, but there was more than that.

There were Valerie’s words of care. There was the way she had taken her hand. Zofia was glad to be without her gloves just for the chance to experience that touch.

But there was a problem.

Princess, the way I’d touched you...

A princess wasn’t meant to be touched like that. She wasn’t meant to kneel at her subject’s feet and be stroked like some pet animal. She was meant to be set apart, set above. She should have found it degrading, disrespectful. Little wonder Valerie had been so concerned about her feelings.

Instead, being treated like a pet was the most peaceful experience of her life. What did that say about her?

Maybe she should just forget it. Just move on — take the collar off, put the tiara on, and again be Princess Zofia Tourmaline. She didn’t need to pursue this.

But feeling the collar around her neck, holding the weight of that tiara in her hands, Zofia knew her feelings.

She wanted more. She wanted it, even if she didn’t need it.

Scene 33 (F/F, futa, petting, fingering, penetration)

The first step of her plan was to knock on Valerie’s door.

“Come in.” Valerie’s voice was back to the one Zofia was used to. As she stepped inside, she found her sitting on the edge of her bed.

She had changed again. Not exactly the same face as she’d worn the last two nights: her features were more delicate, and rather than stained black, her lips were flushed a warm pink. Instead of her plain night shirt, she wore a night dress of blue satin, as if to further distance herself from the masculinity she’d needed to adopt.

Her grey eyes were turned downwards, looking into the empty cup she still held in both hands. “I should apologise.” Her intonation sounded rehearsed, as if she’d been planning this speech. “The way I touched you, during and after, was presumptuous. I—”

Zofia interrupted her with the second step of her plan. She crossed the room and knelt in front of her. “Don’t apologise,” she whispered. “Touch me more, please.”

With that, Valerie actually looked at her. Saw her still wearing her slave dress, still wearing her collar. Saw her kneeling with her hands at her sides, posed to offer herself.

This was as far as Zofia’s plan went. It was terrifying to leap forward, knowing so little about what might happen. It was exhilarating to see how Valerie’s eyes widened, to hear the sharp breath she took as her mind started processing the sight before her. There it was again, that pupils-dilated, eager look, now blended with astonishment.

After just long enough for Zofia to worry, there came that touch. Valerie’s feminine fingers, delicately tracing the curve of Zofia’s cheek. There was no mask of Damascus’ possessiveness. This was just ... adoring, and the sheer peace that radiated from the touch made Zofia close her eyes and let out a soft breath.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” Valerie’s voice was hushed, awed. She took a slow breath, trying to steady herself, to keep her excitement controlled. “How far do you want this to go?”

A little uncertainty pierced through the fog of Zofia’s simple pleasure. She whined and comforted herself by pressing more closely into Valerie’s touch. “I don’t know.” Part of her hated admitting any such ignorance. “Mostly ... I want to know what you want. Last night, the way you told me exactly how you wanted me to kneel...” She let out a quivering sigh just at the thought.

And Valerie shivered when she heard the sigh. Her eyes brightened, her cheeks flushed more fetchingly ... and Zofia again saw those signs of ‘excitement’, the same as the night before. She took a deep breath. “Zofia, I should warn you. I might want a lot.”

Yes, yes, please. Zofia’s own enthusiasm surprised her. She put a hand on Valerie’s knee. “I knew this plan of ours could be the end of my virginity, master. Whether you had to take me yourself in demonstration to the Owls or ... or you had to share me with them to prove us.”

Valerie’s eyes went wide with shock. Had she still not expected Zofia to consider such scenarios?

It didn’t matter anymore anyway. “I had accepted that.” Zofia squeezed Valerie’s knee as she leaned in closer. “But I want this.” Her voice shook with emotion.

Valerie let out a mewl of yearning. “What woman with blood in her veins could say no to that?” Her fingers moved, brushing Zofia’s jaw. “I want to kiss you.”

Yes, yes, yes. Zofia couldn’t look away from the hunger in those grey eyes. “Then do it.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but that was enough.

Valerie’s lips claimed hers and pleasure swept through her entire being. The softness of those feminine lips, the warmth of another’s touch, the eager pressure behind it. She didn’t know how much of her bliss came from the collar, and how much was the inherent joy of Valerie kissing her.

Then her master escalated. Tongue pressing forward, laying claim to her mouth. She couldn’t help but whine with ecstasy, even as she clumsily tried to reciprocate by brushing it with her own. The first touch sent sparks through her soul.

Valerie broke the kiss just as Zofia felt like she might pass out from overstimulation. She gasped for breath, glad of the stability of her kneeling stance.

If just a kiss could feel like that...

“I know how far I want to go, Master.”

“Then tell me.”

Zofia didn’t feel a compulsion; the collar couldn’t find words for her. But she felt encouragement, and as she spoke, the phantom euphoria warmed through her. “There is no limit. Don’t ask, master. If you want to do something, do it. If you want me to do something, command it.”

Valerie’s eyes widened with both shock and desire. “Princess—”

Hearing that word was the first unpleasant experience since she’d left her suite. A princess — a woman with a tiara on her head and a kingdom on her shoulders — shouldn’t offer something like this. So she shook her head hard enough to whip her hair. “I’m not your princess. Not tonight. Tonight, I am your slave.” Why did it feel so sweet to say that?

Valerie replied with a kiss, quick and hot, showing her that she found it just as sweet to hear it. Afterwards, she whispered, breath tickling Zofia’s ear. “I won’t ask. But I will tell you what I’m planning.”

Oh, gods yes. Zofia quivered at the thought of banishing all uncertainty, knowing exactly what to expect, what was wanted of her.

“I’m going to kiss you more, definitely. Your kisses are so perfect.” Valerie’s whisper warmed Zofia’s skin. “I’m going to get you naked in my bed, explore every inch of your beauty. Get to know you with my hands, with my lips. And when neither of us can take it anymore...” She hesitated, trying to find the right words. They turned out to be simple. “ ... I’m going to fuck you like the sex slave you are.”

Zofia should have been horrified, offended. Some royal part of her distantly remembered that. But on her knees, feeling her collar, she whined with delighted anticipation.

“That’s my plan,” Valerie whispered. “That’s what I want, and what I’ll take.” The fervour in that word made Zofia shiver. “But if you find that you want something, Zofia? You can ask for it. Understand?”

Valerie would take, but Zofia would ask. Why did that feel so right? “Understood.”

“Good girl.”

Oh, yes. Zofia wasn’t sure if the collar had anything to do with her rush of joy, or if it was simply because the praise meant she was doing it right.

“Now...” Valerie kissed her cheek, then sat up, leaving her cold for her absence. “Rise, and strip. I want you wearing nothing but your collar.”

Zofia was on her feet before her master finished speaking, the collar’s reward shivering through her. She stood straight as she reached behind herself with both hands, undoing the buttons that held the dress so tightly to her body. As the leather came loose, Valerie’s eyes tracked down, drinking in her body.

It slid from her and fell into a pile at her feet. Her first time naked in front of another, and she dutifully held her hands behind her back so her master could see. See her skin, slightly pinker than normal, but every inch still flawlessly smooth. See her body, her limbs long and deft, her core leanly strong.