Maiden in Red

by lacepeach

After being granted leniency in the castle dungeons, you've been given a second chance and taken a new place as Lady Dimitrescu's most faithful servant. Over time, you would do anything for your lady. Female Reader x Alcina Dimitrescu, very explicit smut! Oneshot

You were currently trying to kill yourself.

Cold, rusty metal pressed itself to your throat, cutting slightly into the flesh there and rubbing, the sawing motion coming from your shaky balance irritating your skin like nothing else. In the end, you supposed, it didn't matter, you were going for the kill anyway.

Although, balanced on a metal dolly and desperately trying to fit your neck against the iron of some ages old torture device, it wasn't going well so far. The odd metal frame you were currently trying to hang yourself with looked as though it were supposed to fit an entire person snuggly inside of it, and it was bolted fast to the stone brick ceiling. You had decided not to analyze what exactly it was for, instead opting to find the quickest way out.

This was it.

Waking up in the dungeon room with only the odd cage for company, you had immediately been baffled about what happened while you were unconscious. Last you could remember, you had been heading to the castle in order to traverse the forests surrounding it to look for some herbs the Duke had told you to get. You'd wandered a bit close, that was true, but you still didn't understand how you'd gotten here.

Nonetheless, you were here and you knew what that meant. Young girls went missing all the time at Castle Dimitrescu, sometimes they were girls that worked there and sometimes they weren't. Either way, you were fairly certain you had just figured out where they all went.

Glancing to the side, you anxiously eyed a bundle strung up on the ceiling beyond the bars of your cell. You could very clearly see the face of a man, a generous portion of his lower body missing, and you were fairly certain you could see many masses just like him in the background. The deathly pallor of his slack face did nothing to detract from the look of excruciating pain and terror that was frozen across his features. No way were you going out like that.

So, suicide it was.

Balancing on top of the metal cart, stacked high with syringes and petri dishes, you could only hope that the fall would either kill you instantly or suffocate you slowly, your least favorite outcome was to wind up with an infected cut on your neck and still have to go through whatever tortures the Dimitrescu women had in store for you.

'Speak of the devil…', you thought miserably. Somebody had just opened a door, a heavy one by the sound of it, in another section of the dungeon. It was time to make your exit.

Internally, you said a quick prayer to Mother Miranda and a goodbye to your parents and siblings. You would be missed, that you were sure of, but there were so many others to take care of at home, you could only hope your loss would not cripple the family entirely.

Quietly, you extended one foot so it was just your left keeping you on the cart, held aloft and with your throat above the iron. You hesitated. Heels clicked down the hallway.

You launched the other foot into the air as well, your neck slamming painfully down on the edge of the metal. Immediately, your feet were moving, instinctively looking for land and kicking into the rest of the metal skeleton, crashes ringing through the dungeon. You were choking.

Not dying though.

With nothing anchoring you to the earth, the entire weight of your body fell on your neck, the thick metal beneath it immediately sinking in and cutting flesh, blood smearing around your skin as you thrashed in the air. Automatically a hand reached up to clutch at the cage, trying to pull your body weight up off of your neck, only succeeding slightly, enough air to keep you conscious was now passing through your lungs.

Shit.

"Oh… my god," A woman's voice rang through the dungeon, bursting into laughter soon after at the sight that met her.

If you had your wits about you more, you would've felt embarrassed by the situation you were in now. You had chickened out on the suicide, now unable to will your hand to let go of the cage and let you slowly suffocate and not strong enough to untangle yourself from the iron frame you were hanging in. Sluggishly bleeding from a rusty cut on your throat.

"Daniela! Bela! Get in here!" More laughter rang in your ears, cruel, sharp and bouncing off every wall and every corner to hit you again.

Your feet desperately flailed out, looking for support. Your ears were burning.

More heels came from down the hallway.

"Oh my god!"

"How did you make her do that?!"

"She did it herself!"

Howling laughter surrounded you, now three times as strong as before.

You were unsure how long you hung there, legs eventually stilling in the air after trying and failing to find ground and arms shaking with the effort of keeping yourself from suffocating. Your red cloak was tangled around one of your legs and your skirt had gotten tangled up as you had kicked and was now snagged on rusty metal. The same went for the sweater you had on, that was now rucked up to graze up past your ribcage and to tease at the underside of one soft breast, the nipple peaking in the cold weather. You weren't concerned about this, or the girl's laughing outside the cell, you weren't even getting enough air in to see straight.

After a while, the heavy door opened again, the girls quieting down immediately, only stray giggles escaping the trio now.

The sound of heels appeared once more, this time louder than before, more… powerful, somehow. Heavier.

"Look mother!" Somebody piped up, "Look at what she's done!"

The sound of the footsteps stopped. The smell of tobacco surrounded you all of a sudden, the scent making your head swim even more than it already had. Your grip on the rusty metal weakened, but you still held on.

"What on earth did you three do to it?"

Clambering began all around you, the girls all rushing to assure the woman that nothing had been done, you'd gotten yourself into the situation all on your own. You supposed they weren't completely wrong, though you'd argue that you wouldn't have tried anything at all if your life hadn't been in obvious danger.

"Well, get her down. You're wasting the blood, it won't taste right now, deoxygenated as it is."

The girls whined, sad that the show was over. Vaguely, you heard your cage door swing open.

Stars exploded behind your eyes as something hard slammed itself into the fragile bone of your skull, knocking you backwards violently and ripping your limbs from the cage. You hit the ground with a large grunt, knocking into the metal cart on the way and landing in a crumpled, contourted heap, a few syringes falling on top of you on the way down.

Coughing your lungs out and choking on the floor, you finally blinked the tears away to look at your captors.

Your heart dropped.

Before you stood four women. You recognized them easily; everyone in the village knew about the three daughters of the Dimitrescu castle, knew about their sadistic tendencies and wild personalities. The stories always came through some kind of grapevine, no one personally had ever seen the girls up close. Really feeling your raw, cut up throat, you could guess why.

The girl in front of you was blonde, hair the colour of sunshine on wheat, though by the pale pallor of her skin, you'd guess she'd never seen the sun. Her hair was thrown across both shoulders, locks perfectly framing a red pendant around her neck, sparkling delightfully despite the lack of light in the dungeon. Behind her were two similarly dressed maidens, a redhead and a brunette, with yellow and green pendants of their own. The Dimitrescu daughters were terrifying in their own right, faces streaked with blood and smeared with makeup, as if they regularly got away from themselves and forgot about the delicate paint on their skin, lacy clothing covered their tall forms and long black cloaks obscured their figures. From your position on the floor, you were angled perfectly to look up at the other woman, and your eyes naturally followed the line of a pale, exposed thigh, peeking out beguilingly from a slit in her dress.

Your heart dropped as you could see a glimmer of sharp, shiny metal strapped to the thigh. You had to assume that the other sisters had similar weapons hidden on them.

Despite the intimidating presence of the three daughters before you, it was the matriarch looming over you all that was really making you re-evaluate whether or not a heart could stop from fear.

You had seen Lady Dimitrescu from afar multiple times, wandering through the forest for the Duke you could sometimes see her in her vineyard, sampling grapes or putting others to work. You'd never been as close to her as you were right now, however.

She was tall. Incredibly tall.

The black hat she wore perched atop her silky curls brushed the ceiling of the dungeon, casting a shadow across her face, leaving only golden eyes peering out at you in the dim light of the dungeon, what felt like miles above where your crumpled body lay.

She looked down at you with irritation, black leather gloves resting atop her wide hips as she inspected you as if you were just some mild irritation that was becoming worse over time.

Terror galloped in your heart.

Also, a heat flared in your belly that you chose to focus on less.

You looked pleadingly around the room, pressing yourself even tighter into the corner you had fallen in.

"Please don't hurt me." You whispered.

"Now look what you did, Bela," The brunette sister called from outside of the cell, "You've gone and gotten her all dirty."

The blonde in front of you, Bela, you guessed, whipped her head around to glare at her sister, "Well maybe if you had gotten her down from there when you'd come in, I wouldn't have had to knock her down myself."

The brunette glared in return, opening her mouth to retort before Lady Dimitrescu cut her off, voice rising above all else and eyes still glued to you on the floor.

"Nevermind that now, girls," She purred to her daughters, looking at them each more kindly than she had looked at you, "It doesn't matter now, all that matters now is sampling the meat."

The blood drained from your face.

"Pick her up!"

Bela grabbed you about your shoulders and pulled you up to standing once more, your knees buckled in on themselves and didn't make the task any easier for her. Bela thrust you in front of her in order to present you to the tall woman better while you furiously scrambled back trying to get away from them both.

"Now, now, child," A gloved hand extended itself to you, the brunette sister shoving her hand through the doorway to yank your own arm outside, towards the matriarch in the room, "Hold still."

You let out a weak cry of terror as the lord lowered her mouth to your wrist, the remaining sister cutting the skin open width wise in order to expose your blood to the cool air of the dungeon. Thick crimson blood bubbled up immediately, looking to be on the precipice of running down your wrist until all of a sudden, soft lips made contact with your skin.

Your mind went blank, everything narrowing down to that point of contact.

Mouth falling open at the feeling of the Lady's skin on your own, you weren't able to process what was happening. A soft, wet tongue swept its way across the delicate expanse of your inner wrist, you could feel it trace every contour of the flesh, lapping up the blood spilled there, eagerly. Beneath your fingers you could feel the Lady's soft, silky locks, spilling over her shoulder and into your palm as she eagerly tongued at your new wound. Bent over in front of you, worshipping your flesh as if it gave her life and close enough that you could see her long dark eyelashes fanning across high regal cheekbones, drops of candlelight found in the curls and waves of her hair, the royal red of her lipstick and the generous curve of her chest.

You closed your eyes against the sight quickly. Too affected to continue looking, fearing ire if your attentions were noticed.

All of a sudden your eyelids clenched together tighter, a pained shout leaving your pained throat as your legs buckled beneath you once more. You struggled to yank your arm away from the lord, the appendage not moving an inch as the lady gripped onto you with iron force. She had begun to suck.

There was a big difference between the sensation of Lady Dimitrescu laving the blood off your wrist and her sucking the blood out of your veins; your arm burned and ached violently as the woman's suctions brought forth great gouts of blood into her mouth, the skin of your arm feeling like it might tear. Her tongue stabbed into the cut now, as if desperately trying to get out the last dregs of life giving essence and slip under the flap of flesh.

In the next moment she had pulled off the cut, lipstick still immaculate and glaring down at you anew, her tongue rolling around her teeth to get rid of every last trace of life giving red. The lipstick was, however, smeared all around the cut on your forearm, transferring to your other palm as you immediately moved to grab the area with your now released arms. You tightened your grip on the wound, trying to numb out the pain and furiously blinking away tears.

Lady Dimitrescu looked down on you with an expression of disgust and anger. Your stomach flipped violently.

"It's already ruined itself! Must've been the rust in her neck wound."

Your eyes widened at that. Could it be your attempt at suicide had actually worked out in your favor in the end? Or did a far worse fate than being killed and eaten awaited you now?

"Already?" The brunette asked surprised.

"Can we try?" The raven haired girl in the back finally piped up, looking at you with barely disguised hunger. You shifted nervously on your feet.

"No, no," The Lady waved a dismissive hand, "It's no good. I wouldn't put it in my wine and I wouldn't feed it to my darling daughters. We'll have to keep her until it's worked its way out of her system once more."

You frowned. You knew nothing about disease or rust, but having the stuff in your blood already didn't sound like it was going to be good for you.

"You," She was already turning to leave, leaving you clutching at your arm and surrounded by her three giggling daughters, "Come. You just got a promotion, from dinner to lady in waiting. Let's see if you can keep it."

You stared after her for a moment in muted shock, only moving to scuttle after her when the reality of the situation had fully hit you. You eagerly followed after the lord, out of the dark of the dungeons and into the warmth of the castle, the daughters still laughing ominously behind you.

You soon learned that the job would be harder to keep than you had originally expected.

Emerging out of the shadows of the basement, you'd come face to face with countless servants, bustling around in the hallways and the background of the castle, all eyeing you with horror upon learning that you were to be the lord's new personal assistant. Apparently, you were not the first to hold that particular title, but if you lasted longer than two weeks you would be the person to have it longest.

Apparently the last person to hold the job had been a girl named Ingrid. Where Ingrid was now, nobody knew, but everybody suspected, and it just so happened to be the very place you yourself had escaped when Lady Dimitrescu let you out of your cage. You had shivered disgustedly upon learning that, not too thrilled with the veritable swap the two of you had performed.

Your days consisted mostly of following the Lady around from a distance, always ready to serve but never in the way. You had perfected the art of gently waking the mistress from her sleep, training yourself internally so that you always woke up at least 20 minutes before you were due to wake the other woman. This allowed you ample time to get yourself in order before the Lady needed you.

Appearance was a large part of things at Castle Dimitrescu, and the Lady had high standards for you as well. You had quickly learned how to walk in heels and how to apply makeup, secretly blushing at the boldness of the burgundy lipstick you'd been given. Never before had you owned something so eye catching.

You'd inherited a lovely dress from Ingrid and the others, the fabric of it a mix of lace, silk and velvet that caressed your skin softly whenever you moved. It was officially the nicest thing you had ever worn, with long, flowing sleeves that whispered as you walked, a hood that was large enough to obscure your face and a skirt short enough that you had spent the beginning of your time there nervously tugging it down over your ass. It was still in like new condition, something you attributed to their carefulness. You were careful with it too, you were careful with everything you did. The small cut on your forearm had faded into a scar, and it served as a reminder to you as to what happened when you weren't careful. It was difficult being so cautious all the time.

You had to wake up on time, you had to predict accurately when the Lady would be hungry or parched. You learned how to get stains out of all sorts of fabric and when it would be okay to leave the Lady's side in order to tend to one of her daughters. You knew what temperature to fill the enormous bathtub your lady used and what scent to make the water. You had learned, through a careful monitoring of the Lady's facial tics and body language, everything that could possibly make your lady happy.

And it worked. But only after a long series of trial and error.

In the beginning, you had been in a constant state of anxiety. The duties of your job had been explained to you quickly by a maid that had worked there longer than anyone else, the instructions given in a rush and with minimal details, a lot of the little things being something you had had to figure out on your own. It didn't help that the most experienced maid in the castle only had experience that stretched up to four months. And that she went missing a week after explaining everything to you.

But you were a hard worker, and more importantly, you were a learner. And what you'd learned from watching other maids interact with Lady Dimitrescu and her daughter's, was that they demanded strict professionalism and strict perfectionism from everything others did. You could be professional.

You were doing an incredible job being professional while obeying the Lady's orders, all until the middle of your second week when you were given a new task. You were to help the Lady dress for the day.

You weren't entirely sure why she'd need your help getting changed, additionally you weren't sure how you were supposed to help since you'd need a ladder in order to reach her shoulders. Nonetheless, you were ready and willing the next day in her dressing room, standing by the door bright and early.

She was dressed in a silk nightgown, a soft peach color that seemed to lend a golden glow to her skin despite none of you ever getting any sun. The lace on the top of it felt more playful than her usual dress as well, and under the cover of your own perpetually on hood, you felt comfortable letting your eyes roam the length of her. You'd been there long enough to know that the lacy, see through nature of the hood was perfect for sneaking glances, the purpose of it seemed to be to obscure your eyes while still allowing you to see.

The Lady still seemed tired, calling you into the room through the door before examining herself closely in the mirror as if looking intently for any flaws. You knew for a fact there were none, her skin was bright and clear, the few wrinkles she had accumulated merely made her look more refined, sharpened actually, showing brilliantly what a powerful being she was.

Secretly, she'd always reminded you of an animal you saw in a book at your parent's house, a great big feline with fur as dark as midnight and eyes like glinting knives. It had been titled 'Panther'. You didn't tell her you thought this of course, you only spoke when spoken to.

Finally, she leaned away from the mirror, satisfied with her perusal before snapping her fingers at you.

"Go get my dress."

She began to grasp the hem of her nightgown, preparing to slip it over her head and you turned away immediately, professional.

You looked to the side and saw the long white garment hanging in an open wardrobe. It was a very tall wardrobe and a very long dress, you hesitated for a moment before spotting a small step stool on the floor, wooden, ornate and much larger than anything you'd typically expect of the object. Ingrid had probably used it last.

You quickly got the dress, holding it with two hands in two places in order to keep the ends off the floor, before eagerly returning to your lady with it, pausing in your tracks at the sight of her slowly changing her panties. Shining white silk rolled down her thighs and you tore your eyes away from the pink pearl of skin between her legs, looking instead at the dress in your hands to make sure there were no wrinkles. You looked up briefly to see what she was putting on instead- black silk -before looking away again. Finally done, she looked at you and you came forward with the dress, slipping the hanger out as you handed it over and immediately bustling back to grab the stool and race back over to the Lady, now stepping into the clothing on her own.

Long white fabric steadily engulfed her legs and then her hips, goodbye silk, before covering her stomach as she slid her arms into the long white sleeves. Her breasts were large and spilling out of the front, pale strong hands having to tuck them into the bodice of her dress; surely it was too hard for her to get a nice fitting bra in the village.

Completing her side of the task, golden eyes flashed up at you in annoyance, "Well?!"

You scrambled up the step stool, figuring out quickly that it was now time for you to button her up. Your fingers shook as you slipped button through buttonhole, this thing was tight and seemed to fit the Lady like a second skin. You moved her soft curls out of the way as you got to the middle of her back, her hair still long without her having pinned it up yet, and did your best not to marvel at how silky they felt. You finished buttoning up the top and began to chastely straighten a few wrinkles.

Internally cursing, you noticed that you had missed the very first button where it began at her tailbone, your fingers sliding down to rectify the problem immediately. Your thumb dug in slightly into the meat of her ass as you slipped the pearl button into place and then your hands were still there, smoothing the fabric out and wow, this part of her was surprisingly plush too.

Your hands strayed over her now clothed backside, stroking away invisible wrinkles. A flame lit in your gut.

It couldn't have lasted more than two seconds but in the next you were flying across the room, body slamming into the ground and sliding on the parquet, four fiery slashes lighting up your face. Your cheek was stinging and tears were in your eyes, vision cloudy and dazed. There was no breath left in you as you lay crumpled and in pain on the ground. You shifted your gaze from the high ceiling to the mirrors where you had just been standing, blood freezing in your veins and skin turning pale at the sight of the Lady, tall, imposing and furious, looking down at you where she had slapped you across the floor.

Her hand was at her side, nails sharpened and long, dripping with blood she didn't bother tasting.

"You ungrateful wretch," She snarled, advancing on you and you had to fight the instinctive urge to scramble back and away, "How dare you?!"

You stuttered, your red lips stumbling over an apology and still cringing on the ground, "I-I'm sorry, my lady."

She stopped in front of you, eyes aflame and face still twisted in fury. Her arm began to rear back and you quickly closed your eyes, praying for a painless death at the very least. You could feel blood from your cuts trickling down to mat in your hair.

Instead of death, you felt a powerful pain, a blow that felt like it would break you right open as her foot collided with your side and kicked you out of the way, the Lady sighing irritably above you and continuing on to the door like she hadn't just bruised your entire rib cage horribly.

"Get up!" She barked angrily as she stalked out the door, grabbing her hat and slipping into her shoes on the way out, her heels already clacking on the tile outside as she yelled out once more, "Come on!"

Through a darkened vision and while almost throwing up on the floor, you pushed yourself up and into a standing position, stumbling desperately after the Lady and praying your ribs weren't broken.

She didn't kill you. She didn't lead you down to the dungeon. But for the rest of the day, serving on her with a massive bruise and blood on your face, she was coldly distant to you in a way you found you hated.

Your hands still echoed with the way she had felt, however.

But that was the past. You were better now, the best. Stringently obedient and knowledgeable in your realm, ready, eager and able to please no matter what they threw at you. For a while it almost seemed the Lady wanted you to mess up, her daughters especially, but you had doubled your already incredible effort and over time you won them over.

You were now a part of the castle. As integral to its functioning as the wine cellar, the staircases or even the chandelier. The possibility of being killed felt like it had diminished into almost nothing. You felt confident walking through the halls, completely at odds with the way the other servants seemed to scatter at the sight of the Dimitrescu family. Sometimes, they scattered at the sight of you too.

Every day that you woke Lady Dimitrescu up, you got to see long, sculpted limbs stretch and flex in the pale morning light before the Lady would turn her golden, sparkling eyes to you lazily and smile, already pleased with your service so early in the morning. Your heart would sing with contentment, a small smile crossing your face as you woke her gently, eager to please as you always had been.

As the tall woman unfolded herself from her bed, pale flesh exposed to the warm air of the castle, flushing lightly underneath the sheer material of her nightgown, bouncy curls cascading down her back and across the knobs of her spinal column, your stomach would do a flip, a burning heat settling lower, lower, centering around your groin.

You'd fight these feelings off as you held out a long, silk robe for the lady to slip into, before calmly leading her to the tub you already had waiting.

Showing your feelings was another thing you were careful about. You didn't know what punishment you'd face if the Lady felt your gaze was turning lecherous once more, and you didn't think you should find out. In the mornings the Lady was at her most enticing, her most lovely, completely unguarded from her usual walls, dressed down and not made up. You were known for keeping your head down in the mornings, hiding your admiring gaze from the lord beneath the folds of the hood that came attached to the dress.

You were also known for hiding your face in the evenings. In the evenings she seemed to be at her most powerful, her most beautiful, the long stresses of the day having added to what sleep usually took away from, tension taunt in her body and rage simmering in her veins, for a multitude of things.

Little siblings acting up, or new orders from Mother Miranda. Servants that were more trouble than they were worth and pesky villagers that came looking for a long lost family member, the Lady dealt with it all with you by her side. You'd always been a good sounding board to friends and neighbors in the village, now you were a great sounding board to Lady Dimitrescu. You listened to her problems and bore the blunt edge of her rage, offering sympathetic condolences and enthusiastic agreement where necessary, the Lady usually much calmer by the end of it, asking you to fetch her a glass of wine to round out the talking therapy you provided.

Two weeks turned into two months. Six months. A year. Time flew by in the castle.

Opportunities to leave came and went, an unlocked door to the outside that you'd find, an opportunity to smuggle yourself away with a visitor to the castle. You declined each and every one, preferring to stay at the side of your lord.

Stockholm syndrome. That's what it probably was, Stockholm syndrome.

Why else would your heart have hardened so completely against anyone that wasn't Lady Dimitrescu, or one of her daughters? Why did you feel a similar dull rage at the clumsiness of a fellow servant, why did you no longer care about who went to the dungeons? Why else did you no longer think of your mother and your father, your own sisters and brothers, with any sort of affection in your heart? Why did they feel like the strangers in the background of somebody else's life?

There was no need to think about these things. They didn't matter. The way of the world was that the strong ate the weak, and you now had the strong to protect you. Things were better this way.

You mulled over all this for only a split second, remaining at stiff posture in the corner of the room you were currently standing in.

You were listening in on a meeting, one between Lady Dimitrescu herself and her brother, Karl Heisenberg.

Your lips quirked downwards at the thought; the Lady did not consider him a brother so neither did you. The man was odious, you didn't trust him to have the Lady's best interests at heart. You let none of this play out on your face; your job was to be an extra set of ears, to listen and absorb but not to overstep. What you heard today would stay between you and your lord, you would stay silent about it to anyone else.

And what a load of crap you'd be staying silent about tonight.

Beneath the cover of your hood, you were fuming, Lady Dimitrescu right there with you, furious in the large velvet arm chair she favored. Heisenberg, the rat of a man, was sitting smug in the chair across from her, the ratty, stained rags adorning his body ruining the Dimitrescu family furniture. You internally seethed at the way his presence was sullying the entire room.

His words were worse. He was telling the Lady that he had convinced Mother Miranda to begin diverting fifty percent of the eligible males in the village to go to his factory instead of her castle. Your lady was furious, currently hissing threats at the man so obviously gloating in front of her.

You were pissed off by the news too. You'd never personally seen a man in the castle and you knew all of the staff had to be female so you weren't really sure what the Lady did with the men anyway, but dammit, if she wanted all the men she should be allowed to have all the men!

You shifted angrily where you were standing, your bare thighs and calves rubbing together and sweating lightly with the heat coming off the fireplace.

Just then, Lord Heisenberg's eyes snapped down from where they'd been meeting the seated Lady Dimitrescu's eyes, to instead meet yours, the smug smile on his face widening as he took you in. You were confused for a moment before he sang out:

"Down, Fido!"

Rage flared hot in your spine.

Your hands trembled slightly at your side.

"Alcina! You should teach your guard pups better manners!" His eyes had already slid from you back up to your lady, "This one seems to have a bit of an attitude problem!" Contrary to his words, the sight of you so mad seemed to amuse him even further.

You said nothing, didn't move, unsure if your very visible emotions would earn you the ire of your lady, the man in front of you both was becoming more infuriating by the second and it seemed your lack of a good emotional mask was becoming a problem. Embarrassing your lady in front of her obnoxious brother was not what you were hoping to achieve at all.

Finally, after a moment of silence, Lady Dimitrescu spoke once again, saying your name into the tense silence of the room, following it shortly with, "Go make us some tea in the kitchen."

Keeping your voice low and respectful, you replied, "Of course, my lady," and quickly made your way out of the room and towards the kitchen, Heisenberg snapping his teeth at you playfully as you were forced to pass him.

After the great oak doors swung shut behind you, you let your face contort fully in rage, and began to stomp your way back down to the kitchen.

The nerve of that man! Any woman in the castle was above the slime currently messing up the Lady's couch cushions!

You stormed into the kitchen, wrapped up in your own head still and not taking any notice of the maids that scuttled out of your way upon your entrance. The filth and thick smell of blood in the kitchen no longer bothered you, you had gotten used to it long ago, something no one else there currently had had the chance to do yet, and you immediately strided over to the cupboard containing the Lady's gilded teapots, beginning the process automatically.

Despite her affinity for antique teapots and fancy teacups, the Lady did not get tea. She claimed she had no stomach for it, and you had soon learned where she kept a sweet red mixture in the coldest part of the dungeon, something with approximately the same consistency of tea but that always managed to stain the cup. Sure, in the back of your mind you knew it was blood, but you didn't like thinking about it too much, so you pushed the thought away as soon as it rose up and continued on with your task.

Pouring the warmed mixture into one of the teacups, you immediately fixed your attention on the one next to it. Lord Heisenberg would be receiving tea. What kind of tea he liked you didn't know. You didn't care to know. Fuck that guy.

After a moment you pulled down an odd orange and lavender blend that the Duke had sent over, nobody really liked it and you wouldn't waste anything good on that terror of a man. It's not like he'd ever do any favors for the Dimitrescu house.

Honestly, the nerve of him, the family allowed him the honor of stepping into their home and this is how he repaid them, by bragging to their face and by tracking grease onto the floors! And how dare he refuse to treat the Lady as well… a lady!

Almost without thinking about it, you jerked yourself away from where you were brewing the tea to move across the room and begin shuffling around in one of the cabinets under the counter.

How rude could you get, Lady Dimitrescu was the most regal, most intimidatingly beautiful woman you'd ever seen! Nobody else could compare!

Your hand closed around a small cardboard box and you hauled it out, storming back across the room to the teacups, prize in hand.

And fuck him for being so casual with her! Calling her Alcina! Alcina?! He didn't deserve to say her name!

You did! You were the one that served on her hand and foot! You were the one that took care of her everyday!

If anybody was allowed to wrap their tongue around the shape of her in their mouth, it should've been you dammit, you had earned that, NOT HIM! Fuck that!

Looking at his tea still steeping, you absentmindedly ripped open the corner of the box of rat poison.

A bit of the powdery substance coated your fingers as they came away, the sensation startling you back to yourself. Finally, you were aware of your actions and you darted your attention between the poison in your hands and his cup on the table.

You paused. All of a sudden a sick sensation washed over you, something in your gut twisting anxiously.

You shoved the box back underneath the counter. No, no, you couldn't do that.

Defending your lady was defending your lady but on the other hand killing a lord was killing a lord. You couldn't do that. If she wanted him dead, she could ask you but you wouldn't take the initiative yourself.

Instead, you took the teabag out of Lord Heisenberg's tea, swirled in a spoonful of sugar and added a wad of your own spit, swirling that around too.

Satisfied with your addition, you set both cups on to the tray, adding a pot of the orange lavender and a pot of the sweetened blood and began to make your way out of the kitchen, a sharp spike of fear rattling the tray in your hands and making you stumble over your own feet as you saw Cassandra watching you from the doorway of the kitchen entrance.

That would explain why all of the servants had disappeared all of a sudden.

The dark haired girl was standing tall in the doorway with her arms crossed, eyes wide, unblinking and trained squarely on you, a smile pasted and frozen onto her face.

She didn't say a word. You stood there, mouth opening and snapping shut like a dumb fish. The tray felt incredibly heavy in your hands.

You didn't know what to say and she wasn't saying anything. Briefly you deliberated begging her not to tell on you, but from others experience you knew that that would only make her more likely to hurt you.

You were thinking about setting the tray down and simply dumping the cup out to pour Heisenberg a fresh one, when the darkly dressed daughter strode forward to meet you.

You fought the instinctive urge to flinch back from her, and instead watched as she reached a sharply painted hand out to you and… plucked the top of the pot of lavender off before wetly spitting her own mess into it, plucking up the lord's teaspoon and mixing it around as well, before primly replacing the top and setting the spoon back down sweetly on the saucer where you had arranged it yourself. Her eyes met yours once again and her grin stretched further to reveal a row of sharp, pearly white teeth.

You blinked and then beamed in return. Your eyes were obscured by the hood you were pretty sure, but your mouth reflected back the same smile full of teeth back at her.

Happy with her action, Cassandra turned and flounced back out the door, skirts swishing behind her as she left. You quickly followed her, eager to return to your place at Lady Dimitrescu's side once again. By the time you turned into the hallway, Cassandra was gone.

Walking back into the room with tray in hand, you were secretly pleased to see that the mood had shifted, Heisenberg now sitting with a sour expression on the couch and your lady looking like the cat that killed the canary in her velvet throne. Delicately, you set the silver tray down on the low table between them, bending over to place the cups in front of the respective lords, sure to be as quiet, quick and unobtrusive as possible.

Still inwardly trilling with the downtrodden lord next to you and the hidden victory inside of the teacup, you didn't pay enough attention to your surroundings and jumped a foot in the air at the feel of a gloved hand sliding to land on your ass, the sensation of leather brushing against your delicate uncovered skin before meeting the lace of your skirt immediately sending your skin into an all out shudder.

You fought the urge to smack his hand away and instead quickly crossed to the other side of the room to stand by the door once more, ignoring the incident entirely. Seriously, fuck that guy.

To your disgust his good mood seemed to have come back a little and now the Lady's had waned.

"Crass as usual, little brother," The familial term was coated in venom as it left your lady's lips and not even her seductive voice could save it from sounding like shit.

Heisenberg merely grinned again.

He rose from his seat with a stretch, obnoxiously lifting his hands up to the ceiling to crack his back before leaning forward to slam back his cup of tea, gulping the entirety of the contents in two big swallows.

Despite your still crawling skin, you felt a curl of satisfaction at the sight, though you were sad that he was leaving and wouldn't have the chance to sample Cassandra's product.

"Well, ladies, I best be off!" He grinned over at you both, the giant hammer he always carried that might be scratching the floor it was set on flying into his hands, before continuing on condescendingly, "You two stay out of trouble now!"

He then strode out of the room, you immediately moving to follow him and escort him out, making sure that he actually left and didn't ruin anything else.

"Leave it," Your lady's voice stilled your movements and you immediately turned to give her your full attention, the door Heisenberg left through slamming shut behind you as he left unaccompanied. Lady Dimitrescu scowled at the sound before her gaze was back on you, face still angry, "He's not going to do anything now, he feels too good about himself already."

"Yes, my lady," You nodded your agreement and immediately returned to her side, standing slightly out of eyesight so you could be called forward when needed.

You immediately were, "No, darling, come over here in front of me."

Stepping back out in front of her, you internally thrilled about being the center of the woman's attention. It happened more and more frequently, but of course, every single time came with a thread of giddy nervousness.

The fire raged on next to you both, the light illuminating your lady's delicate skin in your most favorite way.

"Poor darling," A thick painted lip pouted out slightly as she looked at you, sympathy etched into every corner of her face as she leaned forward slightly in her chair, hands still gripping the armrests, "Did that horrible man hurt you?"

"No miss," Your face was flushing against your will. How kind your lady was for asking after you!

"No?" A slow smile spread itself onto Lady Dimitrescu's face, though her eyes remained intense and penetrative, golden irises sparking slightly as she looked at you. A delicate, dark eyebrow dipped down to softly furrow her brow, "You weren't hurt?"

You answered no once more. You were strong, resilient, nothing so small as Lord Heisenberg's ugly hand on your ass could hurt you.

"Oh, goody. So did you like it?"

Your eyebrows furrowed.

Somewhere along the line the syrupy sweet quality of the Lady's voice had cracked, leaving behind something harder, like flint. Her pupils were pinpricks, stabbing into you and all of a sudden you were beginning to regret her attention on you. Her teeth were still bared in a smile you now knew was phoney, and you nervously shifted the weight on your feet, the pain of wearing high heels all day feeling very prominent all of a sudden.

"Not at all, my lady," You rushed to reply. Had your shudder of disgust been mistaken for a shiver of pleasure? You couldn't even imagine.

"Hmm…" The Lady's lips pressed together as she hummed, still quirking up at the corners to paint a small red smile on her face, utterly disbelieving of you. Her eyes did not waver from yours, despite the thin cover of the hood and you realized she wasn't blinking. Her eyes looked very similar to Cassandra's in the kitchen, though instead of her daughter's signature smudged eyeliner, they were lined precisely and winged with black, the lids smudged with a shiny dark purple, the result much sharper and more piercing than her daughter's.

"Come forward." You did so automatically, "Present your arm." You did so reluctantly.

Throughout the time working for her, you had not been 'sampled' again, and the excruciating pain that had come with it the first time had not left your mind. Nonetheless, you'd give your lady anything, and if that meant a little mutilation, that was simply too bad for you. You'd deal with it.

Supple leather gloves, a world away from the dry cracked skin of Heisenberg's own, made contact with your skin, soft, nimble fingers wrapping tight around your wrist, strong as a manacle. Electricity shot up your arm from the places she was touching you, settling in the back of your brain to make you giddy and zipping down to the space between your thighs. It took effort to control your breathing and you struggled to maintain your composure in front of the Lady now holding onto your wrist.

Luckily for you, your lady saw none of your undignified reaction, having turned her gaze to the delicate skin of your inner wrist and dropped the sarcastic smile to instead glare at your offered arm.

Finally, she leaned in and you held your breath once more as you felt the side of her nose slide up, up the sensitive palm of your hand to end at the blue veins threading across your wrist. Her voluminous chest rose sharply, the intake of breath tickling you as she deeply scented your skin.

Apparently gathering a lungful of your scent wasn't enough, a wet warmth pressed to your flesh the next moment, the Lady's tongue swiping firmly across your skin to gather the taste there. Your knees shook, the lightning in your center increasing sharply, the casual touches the Lady often graced you with had nothing on the overwhelming attention she was giving your heated skin now.

Your folds dampened. You wanted her to grab your wrist even tighter, wanted to press more of yourself to the Lady's plush mouth, more sensitive parts. Wanted her mouth elsewhere, would do anything to return the favor. Would do anything for her, period.

The Lady pulled herself away, none of your blood shed.

"You're aroused," She growled, her angry tone barely cutting through the warm fog clogging up your brain.

Her head snapped up to scowl at you for your perceived disloyalty, before the fire in her eyes died at the sight of you red faced and breathing shakily, blown pupils turned ever attentive to the woman in front of you. She seemed surprised for a moment by the reaction she saw in you, before the look melted away to leave a sultry smile in its place. Still smirking at you, the ever faithful servant, the Lady straightened her shoulders, the action arching her back slightly and pushing her cleavage forward slightly, allowing the fullness of her chest to catch the firelight. Her eyelids dropped to partially cover pupils that were now blown wide, the thick line of her eyeliner a bold slash on her face.

"Oh darling," Your eyes stayed fastened to the way her lips moved around your favorite endearment, memorizing the way her voice purred out in the warm air of the lounge, "I'm sorry. You know I just get irritated after speaking with that man. You know I don't mean anything by it."

The gloves your lady wore were basically a second skin, and they were a torture. The Lady moved to release your wrist from her iron grip, instead cradling your hand between both of hers before lightly trailing conquering fingers up your arm to caress the sensitive crook of your arm, the leather spreading heat like wildfire wherever it moved. Crazily, you wanted to bend your head over to take her fingertips between your teeth, to tug the glove off and take the pads of her fingers between your lips and begin worshipping her bare skin, starting right there. Would you be able to taste the sweat of her and you intertwined?

"Forgive me?" Her other hand reached up to rest on your cheek, where you immediately pushed into the caress in an automatic attempt to bring the two of you closer together. The thin cotton panties you always wore were becoming downright wet now.

The Lady's eyes peered up at you, remorseful as a puppy dog, but you knew better and could see the dark amusement buried deep within. You flushed with pleasure at her joy.

"Of course, my lady, it is not even an issue." Your forgiveness was croaked out barely above a whisper. Your mouth felt so dry.

The Lady's eyes sparkled with amusement even brighter than before and her lips twitched up once more before her hands left you completely, a whine quickly suppressed in your throat as she leaned back in her chair taking her heady aroma with her.

"Good girl."

You could've combusted.

"Be a dear and run me a bath will you? Then go ahead and wash up, and get out of that dress," Her nose wrinkled, "The man thing has sullied the fabric."

"Yes, my lady." You took your order and scurried quickly out of the room, happy to leave before you gave yourself away too much.

In your flusterment and eager departure, your ankle rolled in your high heels, you quickly righted yourself and were on your way again, but the tips of your ears still burned at the sound of the Lady's amused laughs following you out of the room.

Running the Lady's bath was something you were well versed in, and you took a small moment to admire the gold and filigree detailing of the tub as your fingers roamed over which oils to use. Decidedly put off lavender for the night, you instead added vanilla, smiling slightly as the sweet smell rushed into the room riding on the back of the steam coming from the hot water. You didn't have any control in the castle, but you didn't mind, the one thing you did get to choose was what the Lady would smell like from her baths. It soothed a small possessive side of you, a side you knew could never actually come out to play.

Having prepared the bath you returned immediately to your own room, glad for the break from the Lady's extraordinary amount of attention tonight. You knew she didn't typically require you to assist her in getting into the bath so you had time to quickly clean yourself up in your own small washtub.

While the water wasn't as warm as your lady's, it was miles above what the other servants got and you were just glad to pass through the task quickly. It was better that it wasn't warm either, warm baths lead to your hands typically wandering and you didn't need any more encouragement for that right now. It wouldn't be good for you if she decided to test you once again.

After drying off, you were faced with a predicament.

Your lady didn't want you to put your old dress back on, but the only other clothing you owned was the red cloak you had come into the castle with and your sleep clothes. You were used to having to frequently launder the dress and typically did so at night, but you knew you had to wear something right then, with no time for laundering. And your sleep clothes were ugly and drab, nothing the Lady would ever be able to stand seeing you in, she always wanted the servants around her to look their best and you and her daughters were always dressed more immaculately than them all.

Finally making a decision, you stepped into fresh black panties and a new bra and slipped one of your matching black undershirts on. Your cloak was a bright crimson and cleaned very recently, you had sewn up any holes when you began working at the castle and you'd added small white star embroidery everywhere you'd had to mend. In your opinion it looked very nice with it's single button closure, and with two slits for you to stick your arms through, you thought it could almost pass for a very long, billowy dress, with the end of it falling just below your knees. Quickly taking a moment to reapply your dark red lipstick and step into your heels, you then raced off back out the door and through the halls, back to the lady's bathroom.

Standing before the white golden edged door, you took a moment to pause and take a deep breath, before grasping the doorknob and slipping into the room.

Immediately you regretted wearing the thick cloak, the room was much, much warmer than you had remembered and you swore the Lady had added more hot water. The heady scent of vanilla was suffused in the air.

Your lady had found her way into the tub.

With her head tilted back to rest against the lip of the tub, a plush white towel you'd left her rolled up and cushioning her neck, you allowed yourself to look your fill as you so rarely got to do.

Making sure to keep your steps forward calm and measured, your eyes caressed over every exposed inch of the woman you called your master. Water slipped across her pale clavicle, traversing the expanse of skin beneath her collarbone and between her shining breasts. One long, strong leg was bent, her knee raised above the water and gleaming in the soft candlelight of the bathroom, oil from the water adding a decadence to her skin, making her look as if she had been glazed in sugar and put here to tempt you. You, of course, would not budge.

Her hair was wet so you saw the full length of it, soft dark strands hanging over the edge of the tub to drip onto the marble flooring, the ends coming just inches off the floor. Her face was completely slack, mouth parted slightly and full lips stretched into more of an 'o' shape, a total picture of relaxation. Her brow had smoothed out from where it had been furrowed basically the entire meeting and her long lashes rested on her cheekbones, the steam in the room causing her mascara to flake slightly and fleck over her cheeks delicately.

Your hands shook. You nervously smoothed your front, the area in front of your mound beginning to feel very warm.

Quietly you turned to retrieve a small gold and purple velvet stool, placing it softly at the end of the tub closest to her head, ready to begin your usual task of taking care of the Lady's hair.

At the sound of the stool being set down, the Lady's shoulders shifted slightly, as if she were shaking herself back to consciousness. You froze at the movement, still standing in the space next to the bathtub. Her red lips smacked together before quietly forming your name, the word sounding like a question in the tranquil air of the room, "Is that you?"

"Yes, my lady," You murmured.

Slowly her eyes blinked open, pupils dilating at the adjustment to the light and then her drizzled honey golden eyes were on you again, serenely surveying you where you stood. You stayed stock still, your back straight and your hands clasped together in front of you, unfortunately pulling the slits in the coat apart to show off the skin of your thighs. You knew when you were being inspected.

The Lady's eyes swept over you from top to bottom, from the shine of your black heels to the top of the red hood perched atop your head. Her piercing gaze seemed to linger on the exposed skin of your legs and you worried frantically that your panties were visible at this angle. After a moment the Lady twirled one finger in the air to get you to turn and you did so slowly, secretly a bit glad for the chance to hide your slowly warming face. You felt bad about it a second later when you realized that the Lady would now be seeing the majority of the stars on your robe from the holey fabric. Turning back around to face her, you saw the same serene look on her face, this time her lips moving into a smile as her eyes flickered back up to meet yours.

"Cute." She said.

The word finally made your face break out into a blush completely, the sensation even spreading down to prickle the skin on your shoulders.

"Why are you wearing that?"

You swallowed nervously, "Outside of the dress, I had nothing else to wear, my lady." Of course your outfit wouldn't pass as anything but a cloak in front of the Lady, how foolish of you to think otherwise.

"Really?" She drawled, "We'll have to remedy that. Later." Her eyes flashed, her smile widening sinisterly, "For now, take that off and hang it in the corner."

Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights.

"It's too warm in here for wool, and you'll just wind up soaking the fabric. Take it off."

"My lady," You began, "I don't have anything on underneath."

Her eyes flashed once more, "Take it off."

Nodding immediately this time, you didn't like to be told things twice, you turned and moved toward the rack in the corner of the room, slipping the large black button on the front of your cloak off as you walked and hanging it neatly next to the long white dress already on the rack. You took a moment to admire the way your coat looked next to her things, before turning back to face your master.

You were stopped in your tracks by the way your lady was looking at you.

The Lady had moved from where you'd left her and she was now sitting straight up in the tub, raven hair trailing along her back and down her shoulder now instead, ending to trail teasingly along the tops of her own breasts. She was not even bothering to disguise her gaze, instead letting liquid fire spread all over you wherever she looked, and her eyes were flicking across all of you. You knew your bra was thin and unlined and the short black undershirt you had on over the top of it did not help you to disguise the shape of your tits. You refused to look down but you thought you could feel your nipples pebbling despite the heat of the room.

Distantly you wished you'd opted to get a size up in the underpants department, that's where you were feeling the most vulnerable right now.

You shyly pressed your thighs together further, the movement seeming to snap Lady Dimitrescu out of the hold you'd had on her and she raised one elegant hand to curl her finger at you. A 'come hither' motion that sent you back across the shiny tile floor, the heel of your shoes clacking decisively against the stone.

You braided your fingers together in front of you once more, bending at the waist slightly to better address the Amazonian woman in the tub, "Is this okay, Lady Dimitrescu?" You almost never called her that but all of a sudden the urge to feel her name in your mouth was overwhelming.

Her eyes dropped to land on your chest as you were bent over. She declined to respond.

After a moment she waved one hand dismissively to the stool behind her, "Wash my back for me, darling."

You seated yourself immediately, secretly thrilling with the opportunity you'd been given. This was typically a task the Lady didn't want your help with, she often preferred taking care of herself rather than put herself into the hands of any of the servants. Sadly, that often included you.

Now though, she leaned forward in the tub to give you a better view of the slope of her spine and the shape of her backside. Her head dropped to rest on her bent knees.

You shifted eagerly in your seat, blushing for the way that the velvet cushion felt pressing into the uncovered skin of your thighs and the rapidly sensitizing mound between your legs.

You reached over and grabbed a soft new washcloth, hesitantly dipping it into the silky bathwater and squirting a healthy amount of perfumed soap into the middle. Sudsing up the cloth, you cautiously reached a hand forward and swept the Lady's hair off of her shoulder, your fingertips lighting up as they lightly trailed across her wet shoulders. You physically restrained yourself from twisting your fingers into her hair, to do so would be far too bold and besides, you'd have the chance to do that later when you were allowed to massage her scalp. Meanwhile the divots of her spine felt incredible and you had already fallen in love with the curve of her shoulder blades, quickly you reached forward with the washcloth in order to inspect them again, even if it was with the barrier of the rag between you.

You shuddered when you made contact, mouth dropping open slightly as the Lady herself let out a breathy moan at the pressure on her back. Quickly, you popped your mouth back shut, instead deciding to focus on simply cleaning the skin in front of you, a sweat breaking out on your temple for the way the movement caused you to rock back and forth on your chair.

Your eyes ravaged the sight in front of you, the water was perfectly clear, the Lady did not like bubbles, and the lack of soap in the water allowed you to see every inch of the woman in front of you. While you'd only been allowed to do this a few times, you had already recognized every freckle and every birth mark that God had given her.

Tenderly sweeping across a few of your favorites- a circle of beauty marks on her shoulder, a paint splatter splotch on her ribs and a lovely heart shape at the top of her buttocks- you made sure to spread the fragrant soap everywhere you touched, attentive in your actions as you always were. Your lady had just bathed this morning, but this wasn't a job you would ever half ass.

You found yourself palpitating the muscles underneath your fingers slightly, the feeble massage slipping moans from the Lady as steadily as water flowed from a tap. Her muscles were much tighter than normal, the fault of Heisenberg no doubt, and you were eager to help her relax. You leaned forward, your own lips opening once again in empathy and you steeled yourself on the tub with your other hand, working the Lady harder and faster with every panting moment. You were addicted to the sound of her moans.

All of a sudden her body unwound, lengthy spine curling and extending to drop her head back towards the lip of the tub, you moved with her out of the way, disappointed to find that your touch was no longer needed. Her strong hands landed on the edge of the tub and all of a sudden she scooted backward, the water in the bath cresting and splashing with the large movement and then her head wasn't on the edge of the tub, but resting just above your lap, the new position forcing her upper half up and out of the water, large dusky nipples exposed to the air and still gleaming with the vanilla oil. Her cat-like eyes looked up at you upside down, lips tilting in amusement at your surprise. They parted slightly, and you were treated to the sight of her delicately pointed canines. Her hair was dripping onto the bare skin of your legs, warm bath water soaking into the fabric of your dark underwear.

"Wash my front." She ordered. Despite her lounging position, the order came out strong, the Lady's sultry voice reverberating through the room, the sound of an order from her immediately pushing you into action, the washcloth on her chest before you even fully realized what you were doing.

Once it was there you gasped silently, at the sight of the lady's naked flesh mere inches away from your face. You were never asked to wash her front.

A flash of the last time you had boldly put your hands on her came to the front of your mind, the memory of her indignant talons slashing across your cheek bringing forth a stinging pain to the side of your face. Rather than frightening you as it would anyone else, the memory merely contributed to the heat in your center, soon it was unclear whether or not you were wet purely from the water or from your dripping core as well.

The washcloth in your hand was now held by trembling fingers, your other hand clenching tightly onto your own knee, thumb and forefinger digging into your kneecap, desperately trying to steady yourself. Your hand swept gently across her collarbone, soaping up the long, sharp bone and then trailing down between her breasts. Her nipples were dusky, and larger than yours, but you felt the hard tip of one as your arm moved down to rest just above her belly button. You were quietly surprised at the hard muscles you felt beneath your palm as you stroked the washcloth across the center of her stomach, the curvy bit of fat you found giving away to abs. Nervously you stroked up past the tight skin of her ribcage to reach one of her breasts, trying to perform this part clinically and failing Your hand smoothing over the heavy breast repeatedly, your hand moving to cup the breast on every swipe. You absentmindedly ground your hips down further onto the velvet stool.

You switched over to the other breast then, the soap in the cloth beginning to diminish and making the passes over the skin scratchier without the slick product to lubricate the way. Beneath your touch the skin now prickled slightly, and you heard the Lady hiss as your covered thumb passed directly on top of the pink peak of her nipple. You quickly moved on.

You dipped your hand back down her body once again, having to bend down at this point in order to get to her nether regions. The move contorted your body, bending further across the Lady's head to hang the underside of your breasts into her face. You didn't notice, but her eyes had drifted open at your movement and she was now eagerly swallowing up the sight of you.

The washcloth drifted lower, dragging firmly against the skin below her navel, hesitating slightly before dragging up one shapely thigh, stroking your lady's leg as far as you could, which admittedly wasn't much, with her legs stretched out languidly in front of her. You returned the cloth back up to her torso, simply caressing areas you had already cleaned.

Your hand strayed lower, to the skin a short stretch beneath her belly button. You circled the area contemplatively, very aware of the plush lips mere inches away from your fingertips, the only unexplored terrain of your lady's body left to service.

You had thoroughly soaped up every other dangerous inch of the other woman's body, and you soon glanced down at her, willing her to give you a hint on what you were supposed to do next.

Looking down, you were dismayed to find that your lady's eyes were still drifted shut, a pleased look on her face that you took pride in, but absolutely no clue as to what you were supposed to be doing next.

Your eyes dropped down to her quirked lips before trailing back over to her breasts hanging out in front of her, absentmindedly admiring over the way the flickering candlelight played on the wet sheen on the tip of your lady's nipples. Your hips twitched once more, grinding down.

You could be professional.

Taking your own painted lip between your teeth, you slowly dove your hand to the fruit between her legs.

Putting your hand on her flipped a switch in you immediately, and you mindlessly scooted your stool closer to the tub in order to reach her better. It was clear immediately that you couldn't be professional, though you took almost no notice of the fact.

To your dismay, the cloth dulled the sensation of her skin beneath your fingers and in mindless desperation you spread your fingers further apart, rubbing her under the guise of still obeying orders. Your pupils blew wide as you realized you could feel the pearl in the center of her, that it was hard and fat, plumping up with blood and sticking out in the warm valley between her folds that felt like heaven beneath your fingers, so much more than your own, so different and she was so-

A hand snapped itself around your arm, strong, wet fingers shooting out of the water to stop you in your movements.

The blood drained from your face and you stilled your wiggling on the stool, eyes dropping like a stone to see the Lady's now opened eyes, trained dead on your face.

All moisture left your mouth and all of a sudden you felt cold. Your hand felt empty without the soft palmful of her.

You were horrified, "Lady Dimitrescu, I-" You were cut off in the middle of your quickly whispered apology.

"My, my, little one," The tone of her voice was cold and calculated, but as you watched her face move in the light of the room, you saw more sadistic amusement than icy rage. This relaxed you slightly, you were used to their games, you weren't used to their violence. You were a good girl, you hadn't done anything to earn their ire in a while.

"What do you think the punishment for wandering hands is in this castle?" The Lady's eyelids lowered dramatically, shooting a pointed look in your direction.

You glanced nervously at your hand still trapped in her grasp, the fog quickly dissipating from your brain, "I don't know, my lady." Whatever she chose to do with you would be fair, you were silly for even thinking your hands were worthy of knowing the feel of her.

Sliding the hold she had on your wrist up to grip your palm, the Lady rose slightly, powerful legs moving underneath her and obscuring her mound from sight, her long elegant neck moving to swing her still wet hair back over her shoulder as she turned to face you, kneeling powerfully in the great tub.

With your eyes still connected, Lady Dimitrescu pulled your hand closer, looking down slightly at where you were seated and bringing your hand to her mouth.

The breath in your lungs left you in one sharp exhale as the damp heat of her breath threaded itself through your fingers and across your wrist. Still looking at you her mouth came closer…

Only to deliver a soft kiss to the center of your palm, touch lingering and warm. The spark between your legs came back with a vengeance as electricity shot down your arm to stiffen your nipples painfully and to fill your clitoris back up, up again. Finally, her mouth delicately disconnected from your skin, your palm still tingling as if she were there, and a blood red mark was left behind, embedded in the grooves of your hand; evidence of her lipstick. She drifted, mouth winding up positioned at the tip of your pointer finger.

Your hips fretfully ground down when instead of receiving her pillowy lips once more, you instead received her teeth, the skin on the pad of your finger held teasingly between her fingers.

You were still looking into her eyes as she bit down, you got to see the moment the taste of you hit her tongue and her pupils became black holes, sucking in the shaky sight of you and loving the taste of the life flowing through your veins. Crimson spilled from you into her and you throbbed, feeling a definite trickle of wetness escaping from your hole.

It looked like with effort that your master pulled herself off of you, the petal pink of her tongue swiping at the wound once more before taking your hand and curling it into a fist, effectively hiding your open wound from her.

Finally, a knowing smile made its way onto her face, your own a mask of shock and flush with blood, eyes wide and trained definitively on her.

"Go get a towel."

You stood up automatically and tore your eyes from her to go swing open the ornate doors to one of the cabinets in the room, reaching up to grab one of the incredibly large and fluffy towels the family kept. You internally thrilled at the sensation of air against your burning cunt, you were now thoroughly drenched, the bottom of your underthings a mess of bath water and your own sweet juices, a combination that had the fabric clinging to you like a second skin. You were almost positive your squirming had wedged the thing up further than it was before, and there was a large chance your lips were on display for the entire room.

You turned around quickly and unfolded the towel as the Lady stood up and stepped out of the bath, looking at you predatorily from her high vantage point. She made no move to take the towel from your hands and after a moment you leaned forward to pat her dry gently, making sure to keep your touches short and chaste, not lingering anywhere too risque.

The Lady snatched the towel out of your hand and carelessly flung it behind her and into the corner before gripping your shoulder and boldly turning you around herself, the dominant nature of the action making your cunt throb once more as you found yourself being marched out of the room, the click of your heels drowning out the soft wet padding of her bare feet.

"Trying to get handsy again, are we?" The Lady intoned as she steered you forward, one still warm hand on the back of your neck, nails toying with the sensitive skin of your nape. She pushed you through the side door, both of you spilling out into her chandelier lit bedroom, "Have you no shame?"

You would've stuttered something in response but just then you caught sight of you two in the abnormally tall mirror standing in the side of the room.

The warm, lofty colours of the room were all bathed in soft, orange candlelight from the chandelier, a smooth transmission from the whites and roses of the bathroom, and standing in the center of it all, you stuck out like a sore thumb, with your plain undergarments and humidity frizzed hair. The Lady however, you noticed appreciatively, looked like she could've been painted into the room. Every sensuous curve of her body was echoed somewhere else around the room, and the porcelain nature of her skin caused her to glow, catching the light and bouncing it back like a goddess, strong and large as the moon.

What really sunk in for you, however, was that in the absence of a towel, she was standing naked in the room, the entirety of her weight shifted on to one leg to leave her in a confident position, slightly spreading her hairless lips to the significantly cooler air of the room. She was only a foot behind you, and you two were still touching, in the spot where her hand was massaging the back of your neck.

Your eyes greedily devoured her in the mirror despite the trouble you were in for that exact reason.

Her eyes were not looking at your reflections however, but instead they were looking down at you, an expression on her face like you were back on the menu and she was very much looking forward to the meal. You saw her reach out with her other hand for you, feeling the touch a second later and seeing her reflection shift in order to spin you around. Before your gaze was ripped away, you eagerly took in the sight of the movement causing a wetness between her slit to catch the light.

Soon you were facing her and oh god, she had the right idea by not bothering with the mirror. Up close she was even more beautiful, your eyes only came up to her navel meaning you had to force your head back to look her in the eye, and you were determined to look her in the eye. You would not look straight ahead, you would not look down.

Despite your attempt at manners, your lady only looked amused by you.

"Oh, darling," She cooed, reaching out to run both hands across your cheeks.

You felt her thumb press to your bottom lip, digging into the plump flesh hard before swiping outward, no doubt smearing your lipstick in a wide arc across your cheek. You swallowed and the Lady's eyes tracked the movement, before the thumb was back and this time peeling your lower lip down. The burning between your legs took up more and more of your attention, but you still aimed to please and nervously dropped your mouth open slightly, unsure if that's what she wanted.

The Lady immediately took advantage of the opportunity and shoved her thumb inside, large chest rising and falling more rapidly with the admittance into your warm, wet cavern, and the amused smile on her face slipped away to show only raw hunger.

"Oh, darling," She said again, growling this time in a way that came from deep within her throat. The vibration of the word seemed to stay in the air between you two, hitting your skin and making you quiver and tighten all over, your mouth closing to form an 'o' around Lady Dimitrescu's thumb. A hiss of breath left her teeth and against your will your eyes dropped closed at the sound, fantasizing briefly about throwing yourself forward to rub yourself against her thigh, before letting out a moan of your own, the sound muffled and buzzing around the thumb in your mouth. Taking a chance, you swirl your tongue against the deep grooves of the finger.

All of a sudden your feet left the floor and the breath was knocked out of you, realizing after a moment that the Lady had snapped and thrown you to land in a startled pile on her bed. You had no time to scramble to a sitting position before she was upon you again, her lipstick stained hand grabbing you by the throat and pushing you slightly into the mattress, your breathing cut off slightly, enough to make your head swim and your heart thud.

A smooth knee shoved its way in between your spread open thighs, crashing immediately into your overly sensitive hole and forcing a tortured cry from your lips, your pelvis immediately grinding onto her flesh in an automatic response, spreading your hot wetness there.

She growled down at you writhing in her grasp, your eyes flying open to stare at where she was standing bent over you now, one leg on the bed and drying curls hanging above your face.

She purred your name into the energy of the room, "You know, normally I'd punish you for being such a bad girl, touching," Her other hand reached out to pinch harshly at one of your hard nipples and sending you into another frotting frenzy, "What isn't yours to touch. And taking such obvious pleasure in it as well." You whimpered beneath her grasp.

A ravenous smile made its way onto her face once again, and she stopped moving to examine the sight you made on the bed, with your back arched and your face red, a collar of her hand wrapped tight around your throat and your hair spilled into a messy halo across satin sheets. Your eyes were glassy and desperately trying to take in all of the skin you could see from this angle while a bit of drool dripped from your smudged mouth, a byproduct of you sucking on her thumb. Your panties were twisted, definitely, and the knot of fabric exposed your entire pussy to the world and rubbed wonderfully against your clit whenever you fucked your hips on her knee.

You had never been so happy before in your life and you finally let out a real moan, a loud one that caused the gold in her eyes to intensify sharply and shocked her into movement.

She quickly leaned over and bent down next to you, her heavy breasts hanging down to smush into your own chest and make you cry out louder as your skin immediately crackled where you were both pressed together, barely with it enough to realize that she was whispering in your ear.

"Normally, I'd punish you," She hissed frantically, vanilla scent clogging up your nostrils, "But I've been told you were a very good girl today."

You nodded frantically, although you were unsure what she was referring to exactly.

Your pussy wept viciously and you continued to rock your hips frantically against the Lady's knee, your hole clenching around nothing and you'd never before wanted to clamp down around something so bad in your entire life.

Her head turned to bury her nose in the crook of your neck; a second later you felt her lips and tongue plucking at your skin. Creme smeared, plush lips pressed themselves to the delicate skin of your neck before parting and sucking the expanse of skin into her mouth, where a hot wet tongue then laved the salt from your skin and felt like it could suck the marrow from your bones given the chance. You cried out brokenly again when you felt her teeth nipping and gnawing underneath your ear.

Your earlobe went into her mouth. She sang your name huskily into your ear.

"Did you try to kill Heisenberg today?"

Your mind was a fog, you answered truthfully automatically and flung your arms around her broad, silken shoulders as you felt her try to pull back from you. A chuckle rumbled her shoulders but you were serious about holding on, your arms kitten weak compared to hers and grabbing eagerly at the expanse of her back. The sensation felt so much better without a washcloth in the way, all taunt, firm skin and the strong curve of a tall spine.

You let go with a yelp and a groan as she smacked your ass to get you to release her, the vibration and stinging pain going straight to your hungry core.

You looked up at where she was leaning over you once again, a crazed look in your eye as you fought the urge to surge up and connect the two of you once more.

She looked down at you sweetly, the same hungry, wild look in her eye as your own, "My most loyal servant," She cooed adoringly, her voice huskier than you'd ever heard it before, "You'd do just about anything for me, wouldn't you?"

You nodded immediately, your voice cracked on the way out from everything that was happening, "I'd do absolutely anything for you, my lady." Your mouth was empty for the taste of her.

"What a very good girl," She leaned forward again, eyes still sparking and hands running their way through your hair. Your hips were still trying to fuck down on something.

She threaded her fingers through your hair, nails scratching lightly at your scalp before her hands closed into tight fists before and wrenching a cry from you once again, the burning in your scalp causing the heat between your legs to explode, your back arching hard and sending your pussy rolling across her leg to place your clitoris flush with the strong muscle beneath, one strong twitch later you were overflowing, pouring and clenching and drenching the sheets, a gut wrenching moan ripping itself from your throat as the flush in your cheeks reached its peak and so did you.

Your body convulsed in her grip, your face a frozen mask of intense pleasure for several extended seconds before you slumped to the bed, head lolling from her grip in your hair.

Your lady stared at you, shocked by the way you had come unexpectedly; your eyes were closed and you missed the way her eyes worshipped you in your throes of pleasure, the way her breath was stuck in her chest from the beauty of you coming from just her knee and the grip in your hair.

Your eyes opened however at the way she roared and yanked your head higher and straightened up, shoving you closer to her own wet hole. One long nail reached down underneath the hem of your shirt and pricked lightly at the twitching skin of your stomach, before tearing upwards and through the fabric of both shirt and bra, your tits spilling out into the room and tightening immediately from the exposed air on your hot skin. You fucked your clit into her legs once more, crazed by the stinging line of pain that followed the cut.

"Your reward," She hissed, "For your display of loyalty is the privilege of servicing me in my most private area of the house. Since you're so insatiable, I see we will have to begin immediately."

Euphoria lit up your chest in a stunning display of fireworks, gracious words of thanks on the tip of your tongue before the tip of your tongue was pressed forcefully into the mound of your master in front of you.

The skin beneath your lips was almost sinfully soft and perfumed lightly with the Lady's own natural musk and the lingering sweet scent of the bath water. You let out a heady moan immediately at your position, eagerly nosing your way through her smooth folds and giving her a long lick, devouring the keen you heard come from her lips above you.

You'd never done something like this before. Already you were eager to do it again.

Without waiting for permission, you brought greedy hands up to wrap behind the Lady's legs and grab two squishy hand fulls of the Lady's ass, immediately trying to get her to rock into you, unable to conceive of being close enough to the other woman.

She tasted heady, like wine, and after giving her pussy a thorough licking, you moved up to suck at her clitoris, the nut sized shiny bit of flesh peeking out from between her lips, flushed brightly with the blood in your lady's body. You suckled sweetly on it, eagerly licking and kissing, worshipping your master with all you had, pride and pleasure tingling your skin at the continued cries she was making.

The Lady's knee was still nudged close against your own clit, and you wrapped a leg around the calf to once again begin to grind lustily on the other woman.

After long moments of the Lady rocking violently above you, you trailed your lips lower once again, most definitely smearing the remainder of your lipstick around into the decadent wetness dripping steadily from her, and lapped at her actual entrance. Soft and malleable between your strong, pointed tongue, you immediately dove in, exploring walls with alternating teasing and hard licks. One hand slid down from the Lady's ass to rub hard circles into her clitoris once more.

Your hips ground more furiously down on the Lady's calf. Above you, she rocked more furiously into your mouth, a hand woven in your hair to pull you closer and closer against her soft pelvis. You could tell you were both getting close.

You cried out, the vibration sending a violent shiver through the Lady before she yanked your head away and ripped you off her calf.

You were left held slightly in the air about a foot away, panting hard and hips jerking up into nothing.

"Lady Dimitrescu-" You whined before she cut you off.

"Please," The woman was panting alongside you, and quickly maneuvering herself so she was sitting up against the headboard, quickly shoving you between her legs and kicking your legs up into a kneeling position, "Call me Alcina."

She grabbed a fistful of your hair, the sensation alone almost enough to make your hole gush again, before shoving your face back in.

You lapped up the residual juice from your lady's cunt, so into the motion that the fingers slipping your panties to the side and sliding between your folds startled you completely. You startled and wound up mashing your face into her mound when the Lady slipped one thick finger inside you, your walls hungry and pulsating around it immediately, your hips desperately trying to fuck back onto the finger as you thanked God that she was large enough to pull off this position with you.

Shakily you got back to sucking on her lips with your own before you were forced to choke on a breathy moan as she soon inserted another finger, the stinging sensation intense and just making everything else feel so much better, this time the Lady actually fucking her fingers into you, easily lubricated by your own juices running down your thighs in fragrant drops.

Lady Dimitrescu- Alcina -growled hungrily above you and you immediately latched your mouth back on to her clitoris, this time using one hand to rub eagerly above her hole and one to slip a finger into her and finally find out what she felt like underneath the sensitive pads.

The hand in your hair pressed your head even tighter in, Alcina slightly humping your face and snarling at you that one finger wouldn't be enough, wetness smearing all over your cheeks.

You glanced up from where you were taking in the sight of the most secret part of her and let out another whimper into the flesh wrapped in your mouth.

She was looking down at you like you were everything, like you were star and moon and heaven and earth and hers above all else, like she'd like to snap you up between her jaws and place you on the highest shelf. Her teeth glint sharply in the candlelight and her own lipstick has begun to smudge as well, but her hair is what gets you more than anything else. It's spraying around her shoulders in the motions of her body and it made her look even more like a wrathful goddess from the highest point of mount Olympus, her untouched, slightly frizzed, inky black locks a halo around her made of fire and candle light and passion.

You jam two more fingers in, eager to make this the best fuck she's ever had, doubling the work your slick tongue was doing on her clitoris, and you began to search for that magic spot inside of her just as she does the same to you.

With much larger fingers, she finds yours first and slaps another finger down to rub skillfully at your upside down clitoris, the sudden crack of pleasure sending lava and lightning out to the tips of your toes and it jolts your hand hard into her, finally nudging her own spot and drilling into it incessantly.

She howls as she comes, hair whipping around her as she rides your face without any thought to you and stabs into you with all the unrestrained gusto of an earthquake, and you shake violently at the realization that she truly is treating you just like an object just like a prize, and the way your hole burns as it clenches down on her finger combined with the brute force on your clitoris as well as the way she's just using your body makes you come so hard you stop being able to see for a long while.

You're writhing desperately on her fingers and panting hotly onto her clitoris for a while, feebly sucking hungrily at the juices spilling out of her, Alcina shaking violently with you before her muscles finally ceased to quake. As you felt yourself start to come down, you felt another finger come down to rub at the way your tiny hole was stretched tight and pink around her thick fingers and that brings you back up again.

She pulls out of you and licks greedily at her hand, bright eyes half lidded and still trained on the mass of you rising and falling with her breath on her stomach.

By the time you actually finish coming and can see again, you're gulping frantically and sleepily for air with your cheek pressed to the Lady's thigh, a giant wet spot beneath you both. You realized she was shaking slightly as well.

After being allowed some time to recuperate, you feel her drag your ragdoll limp body up onto the pillow next to you, a sleepy smile coming onto your face at the idea of falling asleep in her nice big soft bed, before you realize she isn't coming to lay next to you.

Instead you see her bend over to approach your wrecked pussy and your eyes furrow, unsure what she could possibly be doing now until you feel her tongue once more, dragging hard and dipping slightly into your hole, finally in the place she's been missing all night.

The completely soaked fabric of your panties is dragged down your sensitive thighs and, to your surprise, shoved underneath the fabric of a plush pillow you know the Lady favors.

You stop thinking about it when broad strokes from a thick muscle lap up all of your juices as she breaks to suck daintily at your entrance as well, high pitched whines escaping your throat as things begin to darken again, pleasure sparking violently through your hips and sending all of your muscles into twitches again. Her tongue stabs into you, big enough for you to clench around gain and she latches hard onto you with her mouth. Another orgasm grips you, this one almost painful and causing your thighs to clench involuntarily around her head. She chuckles into your pussy at the display and after another minute of feasting on you in an entirely new way, she pulls her mouth off the clitoris she's been circling like a lollipop, and climbs up to rest next to you on the pillow.

The after effects of coming once more leave you boneless and she has to tuck you against her side herself, one of her large hands coming down to cradle your ass and you gratefully nuzzle your head into her shoulder, breathing hard but determined to take in the sight of her while you still can.

Her other hand trails delicately between her own thighs and then she's bringing herself to another small crest, the effects of eating you out ratcheting her back up. Noticing her arm moving, you feebly try to help but she shushes you and just holds you tighter.

"Don't worry, darling," Her voice is raspy and you love her. The smugness of the tone has faded a little and there's a more apparent adoration in her eye for you than there ever has been before, "You'll get your chance again soon. We've only just begun."

Her head dips as yours rises and you're addicted once more, the feel of her lips against yours too good to ever go without again, gentle movements against you that spread you wide before she's slipping inside and you're sucking lightly at her tongue, playing with the muscle as she explores every inch of you once more. She kisses as well as you've always imagined and you indulgently reach down to tweek one of her nipples.

She laughs through a hiss at the motion and you smile blissfully in return, your lips surprisingly sucking sweetly at her own before she slips from your mouth with a pop. You're falling asleep with her wrapped around you soon after.