Chapter 13: Moonlit Garden Stroll
Blair was still holding the letter to her chest when the door opened.
The knock had been soft, a single rap, but she knew the footfall that followed. Heeled steps on marble, unhurried, the rustle of heavy silk. The air in the room shifted, the scent of jasmine overpowered by something darker, colder. Old blood and frost.
Queen Vespera entered, and the candlelight seemed to dim in deference.
She wore a gown of deep burgundy tonight, cut low at the throat, the fabric clinging to her slender frame like a second skin. Her raven hair was swept into an elaborate knot, a single strand falling loose to frame her cheek. Her burgundy eyes, the color of frozen wine, went immediately to the parchment in Blair's hands.
"A letter," she said. Her voice was velvet over steel.
Blair's fingers tightened on the paper. "From Marta."
"Ah." Vespera glided deeper into the room, one hand trailing along the back of the chaise. "The baker. Your little messenger of the outside world."
"Lucien said I could write to her."
"I know." A faint smile curved Vespera's lips. "He told me this afternoon. He seemed pleased with you. Pleased that you asked for something."
Blair's throat tightened. Was that a test, too? Had asking been the right move, the wrong move, both at once?
But Vespera did not pursue it. She continued across the room, and Blair saw what she carried in her other hand, half hidden by the fall of her sleeve. A silver tray, gleaming, empty.
No. Not empty.
Blair's heart dropped into her stomach.
On the tray lay two crystal plugs. They were longer than the ones she had worn this morning, and thicker, the glass tinted a deep violet, faceted along the shaft so they would catch and pull against her inner walls with every movement.
"Don't look at me like that," Vespera said. "You have earned them."
Blair's mouth went dry. "Those are bigger."
"Only a little."
"Queen Vespera, I could barely bear the first set. And those were inside me all day."
"Yes." Vespera set the tray down on the low table, beside the empty inkwell and the folded copy of Blair's letter to Marta. "And you did bear them. You held them for hours. You walked. You sat. You knelt. And you did not break."
Her fingers touched the crystal plug, tracing its length.
"You are learning, my sweet thing. And because you have learned, you have earned a reward. More time outside this suite. A walk in the garden, late tonight, under the stars. The two of us. And Lucien."
Blair's breath caught. The garden again. The roses. The fountain. The sky open above her, endless and dark.
"It will be lovely," Vespera said. "You will wear a gown I have chosen, and you will walk between us, and the moonlight will make you look like something out of a dream."
She paused.
"But you will walk with the new plugs inside you."
Blair's stomach turned over. The thought of it, the press of the thicker crystal, the ache of it with every step along the gravel paths, made her palms slick with sweat.
"I can't," she whispered.
"You can." Vespera's face softened, a cool hand coming up to cup Blair's cheek. "You did not believe you could hold the first set all day, and you did. You did not believe you could come while filled with them, and you did. You have never once told me you were ready, and you have never once been wrong when I told you that you were."
Blair's eyes stung. She blinked hard.
"I'm scared."
"I know you are." Vespera's thumb brushed her cheekbone. "That is why you are brave. Move past it, sweet thing. Let it make you hungry."
The word hit low in Blair's belly. Hungry.
She was hungry. She had been fed all month, fed past fullness, fed until her body softened and curved and wanted. But there was another hunger now, one that did not live in her stomach. A hunger that lived lower, darker, between her thighs. A hunger that had been growing since the crystal filled her this morning, since Lucien's fingers made her scream, since she spent an afternoon kneeling on the rug with her cunt dripping and her ass aching around the plug.
She wanted the pain.
She wanted the ache.
She wanted to be filled until she could not think, and then filled a little more.
The realization bloomed in her chest, hot and shameful. She was not afraid of the new plugs because they would hurt. She was afraid because she knew she would love them.
"Turn around," Vespera said.
Blair's hands came up to the silk tie at her shoulder. She loosened it, and the gown fell. The air against her bare skin was cool, but her flesh was hot, flushed. She could feel the heat of her own arousal, the dampness between her thighs.
She turned.
The sheers over the window caught her reflection. She saw herself, honey-skinned and round-hipped, soft where she had once been sharp. Breasts full and tipped with dark nipples, already tight. The dark curls between her thighs, damp.
Vespera stepped closer. Her hand came to the small of Blair's back, trailing down to rest just above the curve of her ass.
"Bend over the bed."
Blair obeyed.
The silk sheets were cool against her forearms, her face turned to the side. Her hips lifted, presenting herself. The position was obscene, offered. She could feel the air on her cunt, slick and open.
"Show me," Vespera murmured. "Spread yourself."
Blair reached back. One hand found her ass cheek, pulling. The other found her cunt, fingers parting her slick, swollen folds. She could feel how wet she was. How much she wanted this.
"That's right." Vespera's voice was low, approving. "You see? Your body knows what it needs."
The plug was cool when it touched her. Vespera pressed the tip against her entrance, not sliding in, just holding. Waiting.
"Relax for me, little maid. Push out. We will do this gently."
Blair did as she was told. Her muscles loosened, her breath steadying. The first press was a stretch, the girth of the new plug more than the old. It pushed past her rim, and a shudder rolled through her.
"Fuck," Blair whimpered.
"Hush. Breathe."
She breathed. The plug slid deeper, inch by inch, each press of Vespera's fingers working it in. The crystal was slick, coated in something cool and smooth that made it easier, but the stretch still burned.
"Hold still."
Vespera worked it in until the base rested snug against Blair's ass. The fullness was immediate, heavy, pressing against her walls from within.
"Beautiful," Vespera said. "Now the other."
The dildo this time, for her cunt. It was thicker than the plug, longer, modeled after Lucien's cock. Vespera pressed it against Blair's soaked entrance, and Blair's breath hitched.
"So eager," Vespera murmured. "Look at how your body takes it. You were made for this."
She pushed.
The dildo slid in easier than the plug, her cunt wet and yielding. It filled her completely, pressing against her cervix, and Blair cried out, her hips bucking.
"Oh, no, no, no, too much."
"It's not too much." Vespera's hand pressed against her lower back, holding her in place. "Your body is taking it. You are taking it. See?"
Blair looked over her shoulder. The crystal was buried inside her, only the base visible, nestled against her swollen folds.
"I can't move like this."
"You can." Vespera withdrew her hand, stepped back. "Stand."
Blair's legs shook as she straightened. The toys shifted inside her, the press of them deep and wrong and wonderful. She gasped, one hand bracing on the bedpost.
"Walk to the window."
She took a step. The movement made everything slide, the pressure changing, sharpening. She whimpered but kept going. Another step. Another. Her cunt clenched around the glass, her ass contracted around the plug, and the desire coiled hotter in her belly.
"Good." Vespera's voice came from behind her, warm with praise. "Again. To the door and back."
Blair walked. Each step was liquid fire, the stretch and shift of the toys against her inner walls making her slick, making her ache. She was aware of how wet she was, how the fluid tracked down her thighs.
She reached the door and turned.
"Good girl." Vespera stood by the chaise, arms folded, watching her. "You'll manage the garden beautifully."
Blair stopped, breathing hard. The toys were a constant pressure, a constant ache. She reached for the base of the dildo without thinking, and Vespera's voice snapped.
"No."
Blair's hand fell away.
"You keep them in. All evening. Until we return." Vespera's eyes glittered. "And then I will give you dessert."
The word landed wrong. Dessert. After the garden, after walking between them with the crystal pressing inside her, she would be fed again. And that was not all.
"You have been eating two meals a day," Vespera said, as if reading the thought from her face. "From tonight, it will be three. You will have a proper dinner when we return, and then the dessert. Something sweet. Something you have never tasted."
Blair's stomach sank. Three meals. She already felt heavy, overfull after each feeding. The idea of a third, of being pressed past even that, made her feel dizzy.
"You will gain more weight," Vespera said. "You will soften further. Your body will settle into its true shape, the shape a shared concubine should have. Round. Creamy. Weak with pleasure and rich with food."
Blair's knees buckled. She reached for the bedpost, gripping it. The toys shifted, and she moaned, low and broken.
"Is that what I am now?" she asked. "Just something to be filled and fed?"
"Yes." Vespera crossed the room, coming to stand before her. Her hand came up to cup Blair's cheek, tilting her face up. "But not just that. You are also the one who asked for a letter. The one who keeps her fire. The one who makes Lucien's eyes go soft and dark at the same time."
Her thumb brushed Blair's lower lip.
"You are more than a vessel for pleasure, sweet thing. You are the one who holds that pleasure, who craves it, who lets it reshape her and still finds the strength to ask for more."
Blair stared up at her. The ache between her legs pulsed with every heartbeat.
"I want the dessert," she whispered. "I don't want to want it."
Vespera smiled. It was a slow, satisfied smile, and it made something twist in Blair's belly.
"You will learn to want it," Vespera said. "You will learn to want everything I give you. That is what becoming ours means."
She stepped back, smoothing her gown.
"Now. Let me see you walk to the window again. This time with your head up. You will need the practice for the garden."