Chapter 5: Birthday
I stand naked before the royal court, clutching a tray of food, my legs trembling beneath me. My heart pounds in my ears, a frantic drumbeat. I can feel the weight of the jeweled eyes upon me, their stare like needles pricking at my skin. It's the Princess's birthday, and I am her gift.
A wave of laughter ripples through the crowd, their voices a cacophony of cruelty. I fight back the tears that threaten to spill down my cheeks. I am a foot slave, no more than an object to be used and discarded. I am invisible, worthless.
My mother is displayed naked as well, a gift to the Princess. She is a proud woman, a woman who has always stood tall and strong. But now she is on her knees, a bow around her waist. The sight of her breaks me.
I can't bear to see her in this humiliated state. I want to run to her, to cover her with my body, to protect her from these monsters. But I know I can't. I am just a slave, a disposable commodity to be used and discarded at will.
The Princess, clad in a stunning gold gown, sits atop her throne, her eyes surveying the scene before her with the detached coldness of a predator. She beckons me towards her, her finger tracing a slow circle in the air.
I crawl towards her, the stone floor cold against my skin. I can feel the heat from her body, the need in her gaze. I reach the dais, my hands trembling as I place the tray of food at her feet.
"You're mother is a beautiful woman," she says, her voice a purr. "Such soft skin, such long legs."
I nod, unable to speak. I want to scream, to shout at her that my mother is more than a piece of meat, but I know better.
"But you, my dear, are even more beautiful," she continues.
“ go and kiss both of your moms butt cheeks and tell her welcome to slavery” the prince yells and the whole court starts to laugh the Princess gestures to me to proceed with the command.
I crawl to my mother, my face level with her ass, her cheeks are pale and soft, I kiss them both and tell her, "welcome to slavery mom". She is quiet, but I feel a small tremble in her body, I can understand that she must be feeling a surge of emotions right now, I can relate to her feelings, but I can’t help her.
I have to follow the Princess's commands. I plant my lips on one warm cheek and then move to the other, my tongue darting out to taste the salty skin. I hear the Princess's intake of breath, she's clearly turned on as I hear murmur from the crowd. I speak the words, "welcome to slavery mom" with an air of resignation.
The Princess's gaze lingers on me for a moment longer before she dismisses me with a wave of her hand. I crawl away from my mother, the cold stone floor scraping against my knees.
I feel the weight of the court's gaze on me as I return to the Princess's feet.
The Princess's eyes are dark with desire as she watches me. “Its will be such fun teacher your mother the ways of the foot slave” you will help her in her training” she looks at me cruelly “ you will be the one to whip her when she disobeys” her laugh rips through me.
I can feel the anger and humiliation welling up inside me, I am filled with the desire to stand up and rebel against this insane demand but I hold my tongue, I shake my head ‘yes’ and agree to be the one to whip my mother when she disobeys.
The Princess's gaze lingers on me for a moment longer, her eyes shining with a dark excitement. She stands up, her gown shimmering in the light, and she makes her way down the dais towards me. I can feel my heart racing as she approaches, each step bringing her closer to me.
I lower my eyes, unable to meet her gaze. She reaches down and wraps her hand in my hair, pulling my head back so that I'm forced to look at her. She's so close, I can feel her warm breath on my face, her eyes searching mine.
She leans down, her lips brushing against mine in a soft kiss. I can taste the sweetness of the wine on her tongue. She deepens the kiss, her hand tightening in my hair. I can feel the sting of pain, but I don't pull away.
I know better than to reject the Princess. She pulls away, her eyes glittering with a dark hunger.
"Take me," I whisper, my voice hoarse with desire.
She smiles, a slow, sinister curl of her lips. "Not yet, my dear."
She turns away from me, gesturing for the party to continue. The courtiers and nobles, who had been watching the scene unfold with rapt attention, resume their conversations and laughter, but I can sense them stealing glances at me from time to time.