Fit For A Royal (PsionicCuttlefish & Frogger)

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Somewhere in the royal castle, a large figure lay on a bed, hidden by curtains. What's more, he was chained to the bed and perfectly naked; his legs spread apart with each ankle chained to each lower bedpost, and both arms stretched above him diagonally outward, also chained to each of the upper bedposts, making his body form a vague 'X'. He shifted a little, idly fidgeting with the shackles with his fingers, though he wasn't actually testing them or trying to break free. In fact, he wasn't concerned at all. He liked the chains, they were familiar to him. Comfortable, even. Like an old friend. They were something he had grown not just to accept, but to find satisfaction in during his years of training. Still, he signed through a canine muzzle as he waited.

He was no human, but a grey wolf anthromorph, and he was an exceptional specimen; at least seven feet tall, with broad shoulders and powerfully cut muscles, the body of one who had an intensive workout regimen. Covering his body was a layer of absolutely luxurious shining grey fur; he had been washed, dried, and groomed twice prior to being placed here, and his pelt had achieved a state of silky smoothness and fluffiness, the kind of fur a woman could just bury her hands and face in to enjoy for hours. And yet, it was even groomed in such a way that his highly toned muscles were visible even through the fur, something that had taken a great amount of time, care, and finesse to trim in just the right way, but no expense had been spared. His fur was also slightly fragranced from the washing, though his sensual and exotic masculine musk could still be detected in close proximity, in a very pleasant way. And the wolf-man's face was like a wolf's, but with humanlike features imposed over it; deep green eyes and a fully expressive mouth, giving him a soft, friendly appearance.

Rook shifted on the bed again, not out of discomfort, but out of excitement. He couldn't wait, it had finally happened! All his years of training to be the perfect slave, the perfect pet, had led to this; him finally being purchased permanently. He was brought up as a servant when young, and then ever since he had grown old enough to develop sexual capability, he had been trained and conditioned by professional mistresses to be an obedient pet who lived only to pleasure his owners. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been owned. The slavemasters had raised him from a pup not even yet able to speak, he had no idea where he came from, whether the slavemasters had obtained him from somewhere or if he had been bred and born into their possession, but neither did he care...his memory was nothing but just years of both mental and physical conditioning, going through several professional trainers and several temporary owners, molding him into one of their highest-class goods. Everything was to be of the highest quality, meant to be sold to nobility or wealthy merchants, they even told him he was "a pet fit for a royal". And they were right!

Just days ago, the Queen of the local realm herself had visited the guild that he was kept with, and out of the lineup of the three absolute best slaves the trainers had to sell, he was the one picked! The Queen told him he was a gift for one of her (many) daughters, her youngest daughter in fact; he belonged to her now. And he couldn't wait to meet her! He couldn't wait to please her, to make her happy in every way he was capable of. What would she be like, he wondered? Petite and dark-haried, and would love to cuddle her large toy? Tall and developed, and would really put his skills to the test? It didn't matter, in the end. He'd make her happy all the same. Pondering all the things his new mistress might command him to do--or do to him--almost aroused him, but no, he didn't have permission yet. His manhood, impressive though it was when displayed, was sheathed between his legs and obscured by a bulge-tuft of fur. Even his heavy, apple-sized testicles were half-hidden from view. Still, he was told he wouldn't have to wait long, his new Mistress would be here soon, and--was that her?

Someone had entered the room. He heard the door to the bedroom open, and saw a feminine silhouette on the other side of the curtains. This was it! The thickly bushy-furred tail between his spread legs wagged excitedly, waiting for the silhouette to approach and pull the curtains aside. His expression was radiant and happy, almost puppylike in its eagerness, despite the fact that he was naked and chained to the bed. He didn't make a single sound, not even an anticipating whine, oh no. Mistress must speak to Pet first...

 

[Frogger]

The youngest daughter of seven, Evelyn -or Evie, as she’s affectionately called by family and friends- has little chance of sitting on the throne, of ruling over the small, yet prosperous kingdom of Kaadien. No, the honor lies with her oldest sister, and her husband, shall it come to pass where their beloved father dies. Evelyn has no interest in fighting anyone over it, either. If anything, she will likely serve to forge an alliance with one of their many neighbors in holy matrimony. Of course that will not happen anytime soon, seeing as how she is the youngest, and the shyest. Many peoples’ attention gravitate to Aveline’s charming laugh, or Lillias’ beguiling and flirtatious smile… Evelyn looked about as she made her way to the throne room, eyes drawn to the world beyond the windows. It seems it shall be a beautiful day today… Perhaps she will find herself outside, if this business with her mother is not urgent.

A peek into the throne room revealed that this will be a private affair. No one else occupied the grand space, except for the Queen herself, who happens to be gazing out over the garden. As Evelyn walked in, she could feel the power emanating from the throne itself, oppressive and suffocating. It is a high chair crafted by skilled hands, and with only the finest of oak. A red velvet cushion provides a fraction of comfort. It is also set on top of a three-step platform… making it to where it is impossible to escape the scrutiny of whoever sits in it. Many tall windows allow light to pour into the room, just to reveal the numerous tapestries upon the walls. “Mother?” Evelyn called out, her words cutting through the silence like a knife. “You asked for me?” First she was met with a pair of green eyes so different from her own… and then, between one heartbeat and the next, she was pulled into a warm embrace. “Oh! My darling girl!” the Queen cooed, pulling away to cradle her daughter’s face between her palms. Evelyn blushed crimson under the woman’s attention, and half-heartedly fought to break free. “I swear, I never see you outside the library,” the Queen said on a sigh, just to shake her head a moment later.

“Is there a reason you asked for me?” Evelyn brought up once she was released, halfway tempted to play with her hair. Having the Queen’s attention focused solely upon her… cannot be good.

“Yes, yes, of course,” the Queen replied in a carefree, dismissive tone, even going so far as to wave a hand, as if to banish the words, or as though the question held little significance. Fiery red was carefully coiffed into an elegant, elaborate braid, though several strands have managed to escape at one point or another. It is only when the light hits just right that veins of bronze, copper, gold and ivory. It is a shame only one daughter out of seven inherited such hair - Evelyn loves the poetry of fire confined to physical boundaries. Dark green eyes came to focus on her once again. “I apologize if my affection interrupted something,” the Queen spoke up, this time the words thick with… something akin to sarcasm, though her voice had… a tone which Evelyn could not quite place, “but I have a little surprise waiting for you, my darling, and I simply could not wait. I want to see you become the young woman I know you are capable of being. I want to see… you, but not so shy. Do you understand?” Evelyn did not, however does it matter? Both hands were captured in her mother’s, and it was then that she was met with familiar green, the shade that which has always brought to mind of spring colors, no… of new leaves adorning trees in the forest just beyond the stone wall surrounding the castle. “Go to your room,” she was told then.

Must she? Dread began to settle about her shoulders like a heavy cloak, though it did nothing to ward off the chill that has went down her spine. Evelyn knows one thing, however: it cannot be good, whatever surprise lies in store for her. A hint of red was quick to replace the pink which has painted her features, even going so far as to travel down the curve of her throat and burn the tips of her ears. “Y-Y-Yes, Mother,” Evelyn found the words to say after a heartbeat, or two… or several, gently prying her hands out of those that belong to the Queen. It is definitely… unnerving, this situation in of itself. “I will go… and see for myself.” A smile graced her lips, though it was just put on for her mother’s benefit, nothing more. Inside her chest, her heart flipped over… as if it was trying to break free of her rib cage. Evelyn swallowed past the lump in her throat, and found herself out in the hall once again. It was… with great reluctance that she began to do as she was bid, and made her way up to her room. Unlike her older sisters, who have insisted over the years for the finest furniture, the most luxurious of rugs and the like, Evelyn is content with her smaller, more cozy room right below the east tower. It offers her a wonderful view of the garden. It is also close to the library as well, which is something she has come to appreciate in the early hours of morning at times.

Evelyn stepped in, a hand lifting in order to brush threads of hair behind an ear. Her eyes swept the room, finding nothing out of the ordinary… yet. It was not long until she was pulling aside the curtain… revealing her… very enthusiastic, very… excited ‘surprise’. A ray of light fell in through the window off to her left, his right. Of course, a wave of hair had to fall forward right then and there, brushing along the curve of her jaw. Evelyn is petite, slender, though she did happen to inherit her mother’s generous breasts, somehow or another. It is both a gift and a curse. Her hair is a waterfall of golden curls, most of which is pinned back by a simple gold pin, one that looks like ivy with small purple flowers. Her eyes -blue, like a spring day without threat of rain- drank in the sight before her… that is, until the meaning of such a ‘gift’ sank in. Between one heartbeat and the next, Evelyn blushed crimson, stumbling away from the bed, him… and everything his presence suggests. A shake of her head had hair swaying back and forth, while a hand came up to cover her mouth.

“N-No…” Has Mother lost her mind? Does she expect her to-?

Evelyn nearly tripped over her feet, on the skirts of her gown, as she hurried out. Upon closing the door, Evelyn fell back against it… ever so slowly sliding down onto the floor. Both hands struggled to hide her embarrassment from the public eye. No, no… no! It was not until a maid passing by paused to kneel before her, to ask if she is alright, she came to realize she had not moved. “I-I, ah…” Evelyn rubbed at one of her eyes, unable to piece together anything resembling a coherent thought. “Do you… care to do me a favor? I would… greatly appreciate it if you… go into my room, and… unchain the… the… present my mother so kindly left me, and… take him out. I-I just… I cannot…” Evelyn shook her head again and, stumbling, rose up onto her feet, hands buried in her skirts. “I need him out. I suppose… give him a room of his own, but he cannot have mine.” The heat of mortification licking her features once again, Evelyn turned away and hugged herself tightly. “Please… Do that for me, will you?”

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Rook's breath caught with anticipation as the curtain was suddenly pulled aside, and he saw the owner of the silhouette. She was clad in a simple but very elegant and obviously high-class dress, far and above the clothes any of the maids and servants who had gotten Rook prepared had worn...a dress of similar quality to the Queen! This had to be the Princess, Rook's new Mistress! She was very pretty indeed. A cutely small and slender body, yet still with a very shapely chest and curvy hips, crystal blue eyes, and a mane of curly gold locks. Rook had gone almost totally still with his face still happily smiling, only his tail was still wagging--not the wild wagging of a moment ago, but now with somewhat suppressed but still very excited wagging. This was it, what his entirely life had been building up to! He couldn't wait to make his new Mistress happy!

But then...something went wrong. His Mistress...his lovely, beautiful Mistress, the only one who would ever be important in his life...stumbled back with a reddened face, slightly shaking her head...Rook heard a murmured "no"...and then she was gone, with the door clicking shut.

Rook's jaw fell open and his eyes went very wide, and this time he really did go completely still. There was no wag left in his tail. No...she hadn't unlocked his chains, it was his Mistress who would unlock them, so maybe she wasn't...actually... Rook's eyes quickly filled with water, he sniffled, and then couldn't help but begin to let out a quiet but high-pitched keening sound, a canine whine. He couldn't fool himself, that was his Mistress, it couldn't have been anyone else...and she had just rejected him. He did something wrong. He wasn't good enough. He shouldn't cry, he was trained better than that....but he just couldn't help it, which only further proved how he had failed. The large wolf-man's body began to tremble, shaking with barely-contained sobs. That was it, his life was basically over. He'd be disposed of, or worse, taken back to the guild trainers to be resold to a different Mistress, all while carrying the shame that he wasn't good enough for the rest of his life. His whine got just slightly louder as he turned his head to the side, away from the doorway, sniffling as the tears began to spill out of his squeezed-shut eyes.

*****

It was very odd to see Princess Evelyn sitting outside the door to her room, curled up with her head buried into her arms and knees. Downright alarming, in fact. The maid had to find out what was wrong, and so stopped to kneel and gently ask the royal girl if she was okay. Her head jerked up as if surprised, then she started stammering and fidgeting. Something was very wrong, so the maid listened intently with concern...

...Concern that only deepened when the princess explained what she wanted the maid to do. The maid winced visibly--she had been one of the servants to help prepare the slave for presentation. "Ah, I....I must apologize, Princess, I cannot do that. You could designate a room for him, certainly, do whatever you want with him, but I'm afraid the Queen's orders supersede yours, and her orders were very clear that no one is to touch the...'present', until after you. Did...did you not see the message and key your mother left for you, on the bedside table?" The maid asked, and upon receiving a negation, she winced again, this time wringing her hands slightly. "Ah, I, suppose I could go in and at least get the message and key for you...you really ought to read it...one moment..."

The maid then opened and slipped through the bedroom door once Evie moved. A few moments later, the door opened again and the maid slipped out, with a handwritten note clutched in one hand and a semi-ornate iron key in the other, both of which she offered to the princess. Internally, the maid was actually almost frustrated; she had glimpsed the state of the slave on the bed in her very brief jaunt. "Ah, Princess, forgive me, but...what did you do? You didn't just...take one look at him and walk away or something of the like, did you? You...well, he's yours, so you can do anything you want with him, but, ah, if you don't intend to hurt him, you can't just do things like that to a slave." The maid spoke slightly hesitantly, trying to phrase and dance as hard as she could around 'telling a royal' what to do. "But also, he will obey everything you tell him to do or not do, outside of your mother's instructions, so do keep that in mind." The maid hid her frustration well, though it still simmered below the surface; the princess seemed to be trying to reject her 'present', didn't she know the value of what she had just been given? Part of the maid almost thought Princess Evelyn was being a 'brat' at the moment to waste such a gift, as the maid could only imagine what she wouldn't give for just one night with that godly hunk of meat on the princess' bed...

Once Evelyn had accepted the note and the key, the maid clasped her hands and stepped back. "I, ah, will stay here for a few minutes if you still need me after you go inside, though I will take it that things are fine if I am not called. But, you should go in now..." She said.

Meanwhile, the brief note that Evelyn held, clearly written by her mother's elegantly flowing hand, read: "You will be responsible for seeing to his care and feeding. He will escort you wherever you go and sleep in the same bed, absent of anyone else. Be a good girl and enjoy your new pet, my beautiful daughter!"

 

[Frogger]

It crackled underneath the gentle tone of the servant’s voice, frustration and… is that jealousy? It is difficult to say. In any case, it served to ignite her own frustration, and have it shift into anger. Evelyn lifted her head, hands curling into fists. “Excuse me?” she just about spat. “No. I do not need this, not now. Go. You are dismissed.” Is she really so cruel? How can she not see the position her mother put her in? Evelyn read the neat script written upon the parchment once, thrice… three times, though the hope she may read the words differently dwindled with each reading. Tears burned at her eyes, almost threatening to spill. Why-? What could have possibly compelled the Queen to do something of this magnitude? To this extreme? It is… It is humiliating-! Evelyn buried her face into her hands, the letter left in her lap as she fought to get her thoughts together. It was… harder than she cared to admit.

How can she face him again? How can she ever come to terms with the reality her mother bought her a slave-?! It is painfully obvious she expects Evelyn to… enjoy this gift, but has she ever taken into consideration how this may make her feel-? No, of course not. Never has the Queen thought before acting upon an impulse...

Evelyn let her hands fall away, just to lean her head back against the door. It does not help she can hear this strange… quiet, but high-pitched keening, a canine whine? Is it coming from… him? A trembling began in her hands, and it was a moment or so before she came to realize that she is… shaking like a leaf caught in the last breath of autumn, absolutely terrified to open the door and face this new present of hers all over again. Evelyn pressed a hand to her mouth, however it proved to be inefficient against the typhoon of emotion that which hit her, for tears began to trail down her cheeks a heartbeat later. Why-? Why must her mother put her through this-? Yes, Evelyn’s older sisters -in comparison to she- are more… outgoing, more charming, and not in the least bit shy when it comes to matters of… sexual intimacy, but is she expected to be the same-?! The idea of being tangled with this slave, or any other man, makes her stomach flip! Evelyn shook her head, sniffling as she struggled to rise from her spot on the floor. A hand wiped away what evidence of tears she can manage to erase, and yet it did little good.

Bright blue eyes -somewhat swollen because of her crying- looked to the door, and reluctantly, Evelyn reached out to open it. As much as she would like to pretend that there is not a slave chained to her bed, it is… not fair to leave him as he is. Anger, anxiety, depression and insecurity about to choke her, Evelyn slipped inside and closed the door, but she could not bring herself to open her eyes and look upon this… present of hers, not as of yet.

The key is heavy in her palm. Every beat of her heart hurts, as though it is hitting against her breastbone in a desperate attempt to break free. Evelyn swallowed down a sob, however it did not help quell her nerves any. Oh no. Of course not. It would be too easy if it were that simple. A few tears sparkling on her cheeks, it was after several heartbeats that she dared approach the bed, and even then, she did not look at the slave. The key slid into the lock and, with a twist of her wrist, he was released from the chains that which confine him to the bed. Evelyn retreated as soon as the ‘click’ had echoed through the fragile silence, her arms wrapped about herself. Bits and pieces of curly gold brushed against her flushed cheeks, only serving to bring out the pink painting the pale skin, the bright blue of her eyes that rival the beauty of a clear summer sky.

“M-M-My mother bought you,” Evelyn blurted out, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. “I do not care if… if you are meant to be… mine… as far as I am concerned, you belong to her. I-I… I did not ask for a slave, nor do I want one. I-I apologize, however… I have no need for one. I-If you could, please… remove yourself from my bed, I will take you to her at once.” Evelyn knows what the note dictates: she is to take care of him, and they are to sleep in the same bed. No. It is not going to happen. It is out of the question-! “This is the only time you will be… escorting me…” Evelyn continued on, turning her back to him. “I-I-I want you… to cover yourself up with something, please. I cannot walk with you if you are naked…” A hand went to brush several threads of hair behind an ear, a nervous gesture to help distract her from the situation. Tears keep spilling down her cheeks, and every so often, Evelyn could not prevent herself from sniffling to clear her nose. “You can use the blanket,” she spoke up after a long moment. “I was planning on… doing something with it, since you were naked on top of it, but I suppose… you can have it…” Evelyn shuffled nervously between her feet, waiting for him to do as she bid. Hopefully she can convince her mother to take him, or give him to one of her sisters...

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

The maid blinked as sweet, soft-spoken Princess Evelyn snapped at her. The maid had never even heard of Evelyn snapping like this at anyone, she was always the most quiet! But, the merely clasped her hands in front of herself and nodded again. "As the Princess commands." She replied softly, and walked around Evelyn to head back down the hallway and continue her normal duties. She sighed once out of earshot. It really was a terrible shame that it looked like Princess Evelyn was going to get rid of her new present. Such a waste...

*****

Rook was still letting out that long, drawn-out, canine whine when he heard the door his head was facing away from open again. This time the scent he picked up wasn't one of the servants who had helped groom and prep him for presentation, instead it was his...Mistress...the thought of which made something inside his chest clench terribly, now...but even if this was the end, he would still be the very best Pet he could be. He sucked in a breath and the whining stopped, though his body continued trembling noticeably. After a few moments, he felt one of his shackles being unlocked, then his others. He didn't move at first, nor did he turn his head to face his Mistress, and instead waited first for her to speak.

When she did...each word was like a nail hammered into his heart. And yet, oddly, hearing it laid out so clearly and plainly...it didn't hurt any less, but it was almost calming. The worry about the ambiguity of his Mistress' initial reaction and the uncertainty of his future were all gone. His future was set, now. It was done. There was no need to worry about it anymore.

The huge wolf-man's body stopped trembling while Evelyn spoke. When she told him to get off the bed, he began complying immediately, sliding himself off the bed slowly and calmly, his tail completely motionless...and smoothly went down to his knees, leaned forward, tucked his head in to his chest, and leaned into a deep bow to press the top of his head and his hands on the floor, while also tucking in his tail behind him. At no point did he let his eyes fall on Evelyn--he was not worthy to look upon her. He remained in this curled-up bow while Evelyn finished speaking. Once she was done, he finally spoke up. His voice was...a little on the deeper end, but oddly not as deep as one might expect from a male so large.

"I...I understand." He began. His words were soft, and slightly muffled with how his head was turned inward. "Mistress...is rejecting Pet. Pet...did something wrong, is a bad Pet...Pet is not good enough, not worthy of Mistress...Pet will go away, f...forever..." He was able to keep is voice steady, but it wavered slightly on the last word. "Mistress...is still upset, so...p-please, Mistress...do you wish to punish Pet, bef-fore Pet goes away, forever? Punishing bad Pet will make Mistress happy...Mistress being happy is the only thing that matters..." He spoke slowly, only occasionally stumbling in his words. Some of them were a little difficult to say, even after all his training...but even if he had done something wrong and was a bad Pet, he would do everything he could to still be a good Pet, until the very end. He was not fit for a royal after all, but the only purpose of his life demanded nothing less.

 

[Frogger]

No. Wait. What?

Evelyn’s heart flopped inside her chest, only for an unfamiliar feeling to seize it.

How can she explain this plainly-? It is not as though he did anything wrong. It was not him that did anything wrong, it was her overbearing mother. Is it really so hard to see that-? Evelyn nibbled on her lip, the pink flesh darkening to a rosy red from the abuse while she contemplated what to say next. A hand began to play with the tips of several curly gold threads, portraying everything she cannot put into words as of yet. Nerves danced about in the pit of her stomach, as though she had eaten butterflies for breakfast instead of bread and strawberries.

Dark red evident upon her cheeks, Evelyn dared to steal a glance at him from over a shoulder. His depression is thick in the air, nearly palpable… nearly suffocating her to the point where she can barely breathe. The tips of her ears feel hot. “N-No, I am… I am not your Mistress,” she chose to deny, first and foremost. It seemed to be as good of a place to start as any. “I am not. I… I am sorry, but… I did not… I did not purchase you… I… I was only the…” Why can she not say it?! Evelyn is having trouble putting her words together. A hand lifted to brush pieces of hair behind an ear, though it only served as a distraction from the situation, however brief it may be. It was difficult to swallow past the lump in her throat.

“I...I did not say… you did anything wrong, did I?” Evelyn decided to ask gently, twisting about to face him now. Her hands nervously brushed over the skirt of her dress, just to bury in the blue fabric after a heartbeat or so. A certain slant of light fell in through the window off to the girl’s left, rippling over gold, over the topaz blue of her eyes and the sapphire blue of her gown.

Many men have pursued this young woman over the years. It was always a mystery to her as to the reason why, being that she has older sisters far more… beautiful, more charming. Evelyn went to kneel in front of him, and though she hesitated to do so, she reached out to gently lift his head up off the floor. A ghost of a smile played along her lips. “Not once did I imply you did anything wrong… nor did I suggest you… are not good enough. I do… apologize, though, if I gave that impression.” It seems easier to speak to him now, while she is explaining her reasoning. How strange. Evelyn sat back on her heels, hands resting neatly in her lap. “I… am not your Mistress. You are not my… slave, nor I your master. I… I was just a recipient of you, and… I… I have no need for a slave, nor do I feel comfortable with the idea of accepting you.”

Is she making any sense? No, a better question is: does it matter?

A slave has the mindset of complete and total obedience, from what she understands. In other words… she may very well be wasting her breath trying to make him feel better.

Evelyn let out a soft sigh. “I am not going to punish you. I am not angry with you, and I see no reason to hit you, when I could… speak my mind to the one who has angered me. Now. Come. Rise. I will see to it you are dressed before we go. I cannot bring you before my mother with nothing on.” Evelyn averted her eyes quickly, a fresh wave of red replacing her previous blush. “I-I… I should go and see… if I can fetch you something to wear. I have no… pants to offer you. I have only gowns. I… I will go and…” Evelyn found herself lost for words once again, and yet… she did not feel the need to recover her composure. Everything that needs saying has been said already. A hand passed over a hot cheek nervously. “Let me… just…” It was not easy to rise from this position, but she managed to do so gracefully, and of course she felt compelled to run her hands over her skirt once again. “I will… be right back…” Evelyn stammered, retreating quickly.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

At first, Rook could only let out another distressed whimper from here he was curled down in a floor-bow when the Princess confirmed yet again that she was rejecting him. He understood the first time...why was she rubbing his face in it? A tremor wracked his body...having it repeatedly driven into his head was starting to be more painful than any training he had ever endured! He was trained to take physical, sexual torture to prepare him for a Mistress who might enjoy his pain, so the idea that his Mistress wanted to hurt him now was not unusual...it was just a kind of pain he was not prepared for! He wasn't sure at first why she had to keep saying she was rejecting him...but then he figured that she could only reject him once, so she must be getting all the enjoyment she can out of him until he leaves forever. Well...he would take it, then. That was his purpose. Her explanation why was also a little weird, he already knew. "O-of course Mistress did not buy me...I am a g-gift for Mistress...M-Mistress is the one who unlocked my chains..."

Her next words were just unusual, and he let out a confused whine, all while the top of his head was still pressed into the floor, eyes closed muzzle tucked inward towards his body. He hadn't done anything wrong...of course, she was still a Mistress who wanted to see him in pain, so she was just emphasizing that she was torturing him with her rejection for no other reason than she wanted to. Yes, Rook was prepared for this kind of Mistress. It didn't matter to Rook what kind of Mistress he had in the end, even a tormentor, he was going to be happy for it all the same. He...had expected sexual torment, which he would have been happy for, but this Mistress was different, this Mistress was tormenting him by twisting up his insides...she was intentionally making him feel un-happy, when he was supposed to be happy for any attention whatsoever, which of course made him feel worse because he wasn't doing it right, he wasn't being the Good Pet in his mind that he was supposed to be.

He then felt small, delicate hands touch his head, which he did slightly flinch away from, but then felt her tug his head out from the inward-curl he head it against the floor, pulling his face up to look her in the eyes. His own emeralds were deep, sparkling, and currently very glassy with how tear-filled they were. She spoke to him again...using that calm, soothing tone that he had also been taught some Mistresses might use. And her words...maybe...maybe she was changing her mind? The tone matched his conditioning well and on the spot he felt his heart calming, his eyes blinked some tears free as he looked up at her with a small spark of hope in his eyes...a spark that was then visibly and brutally crushed as she yet again insisted on her rejection, after which he let out another whimper as tears filled his eyes again. Of course. It was a technique he was well familiar with from training. Torture him for a bit, to the point that he started getting used to it, then balm the pain, then continue the torture again so it would be more intense in raw sensation, more enjoyable for the Mistress to listen to his cries. Now, his body trembled as his breathing again went choked and unsteady, and he closed his eyes to let out another quiet, keening whine.

He went back into his maximum-submissive bow on the floor as his Mistress-who-was-rejecting him began to retreat. As she did so, she added yet another component to his distress. She was so clearly enjoying his pain of damaging his Pet training, because she was hitting it so well. The huge furry wolfman let out another whimper, a louder and more alarmed one this time as he shuffled backwards slightly while staying in the on-knees-bowing, head-on-floor pose. "M-Mistress, I...P-Pets do not wear clothes...only bad pets cover themselves..." His arched-forward back shook as he took in a shuddering sniffle. "I, I, I know you a-are en-enjoying this, a-and I ac-accept I am r-rejected...b-but e-even if I am g-going away f-forever I s-still don't want to be a b-bad pet, I don't want to be a bad pet, I don't want to be a bad pet, I don't I don't I don't..." He trailed off into more high-pitched whimpers of distress.

 

[Frogger]

In an instant, Evelyn could have sworn… that her heart fell into a cauldron of something… nasty and poisonous, potent enough to corrupt and fester. Tears burned at her eyes. Is there nothing she can do right? First, Mother decides to buy her a slave, of all things, to help with her shy nature… but of course, she cannot accept such a gift. Is there something wrong with her? Is that the reason none of her sisters join her in the library, or seek her out for her company? Is that the reason why Father never looks to her at the dinner table-? Evelyn swallowed roughly past the lump in her throat, hands brushing nervously over the skirt of her dress as all these thoughts ran amok. It was not long, though, before a tear spilled down her cheek… followed by another, and another still. A sob threatened to bubble up, however she could not allow it to break free, because… her pride as a Princess is forever at stake, on the line. A hand did rise to deal with the issue of her tears. Evelyn kept her back straight, her shoulders squared… but there was no hiding the tremor in her voice, nor the shaking that has began to overwhelm the poor girl.

“F-Fine!” Evelyn cried out at long last, breaking the fragile silence until it is naught but pieces at their feet. “What am I supposed to do, then?” Arms hugging her tightly under her breasts, Evelyn bowed her head… trembling like a leaf caught in a brisk winter breeze. A tear hit the cobblestone at her feet. “What am I supposed to do, then?” How is she meant to handle this situation? It is not as though she will ever… require his services, nor shall she ever use him for the purpose he is meant for. No, Evelyn does not want anything to do with him… and it is not because he did anything wrong. Oh no! It is just that… one of her other sisters would appreciate him more than her. Lillias is the first to come to mind. As flirtatious as she is, it would be good if she was to have a slave… to focus her sexual frustrations on. Aveline may be another sister to consider as well, though Evelyn doubts she will be so eager to jump into bed with him. Evelyn sniffled, ever so slowly curling into a ball against the far wall, her blue dress pooling over her as she fought to regain composure.

Does he expect her to accept him? To… take him into her arms, into her bed?! No, no! Evelyn buried her face into the back of her knees, hands tangling into her hair… every so often, pulling on the curly gold threads by the fistful. Why-?! Why did Mother put her in this position? Why can no one accept her the way she is?! Does society dictate she be more… bold, more daring, more outgoing? Does society expect her to be comfortable in her own skin, and perfectly comfortable taking off her clothes in front of a man? Evelyn just wanted to be left alone with her books-! Is that so much to ask for? It is just… It is just-! “I cannot… do anything right…” she spat out almost venomously, though the words were broken apart by distress. “Is that the reason why Mother pushed you onto me-? Is that the reason? So I may change? So I am not so… unacceptable? So I am… more befitting of the title of Princess? Is that it?” Evelyn can feel the tears spilling down her cheeks anew, cool upon the flushed skin… and yet, she could not bring herself to wipe them away, not now. Her eyes -far too bright, like twin pieces of aquamarine- attempted to blink rapidly, to get rid of the evidence… however, it was futile. It did not take long to be overwhelmed by emotion, by… contempt and disgust, envy and shame. Why can she not be like her older sisters-? Why must she be so different?

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Yet again, confusion filled the poor slave's mind at Mistress demanding he tell her what she should do. Rook could not think of anything; Pets do not tell Mistresses what they should do, ever. But more than that, something cold brushed against his heart at hearing her tone of voice. It sounded...fragile...vulnerable...things a Mistress should never be. Suddenly, he heard her voice speak up again, sounding slightly more distant, a brief outpouring of words in a shaky tone that held Rook's heart in an ice-cold grip. Slowly, against his trained behaviors, he lifted his head back up from the tucked-inward bow--and felt like his heart suddenly vanished as he laid eyes on his True-Mistress-who-was-rejecting-him. She was pressing herself against the far wall and curled up into a ball, head buried against her knees and arms pulled in to cover her head.

This was wrong. This was all wrong. Mistress wasn't just upset--she was hurt! Not physically, but something inside her was hurting her, and Rook could hardly comprehend what it was; the words she had said made little sense to him. But that didn't matter, what mattered was that something was wrong for Mistress. She thought she "couldn't do anything right", but that itself didn't make sense because a Mistress couldn't do something wrong where a Pet was concerned. And while it went against several trained-in protocols, his even stronger need to make Mistress happy got him to get up slightly from his to-the-floor bow and begin crawling on all fours across the floor towards Mistress, surprisingly quietly for his huge bulk.

In moments, he was very close to his Mistress, close enough to reach out to her. He knew what he was about to do would earn him even more pain. But he could not think of anything else to try and make Mistress happy, and if there was any chance this would help her, it would be worth the consequences. He reached out with both arms as he scooted up closer to her while he himself was in a sitting position...and, carefully, he cupped his hands around Evelyn's shoulders and drew her up against his chest, embracing around her body with his arms. Rook's body beneath his fur was firm and strong, comfortably so, and his fur itself was so, so very soft. His fur was fluffy silk from his grooming, and smelled very pleasant--his scent was a gentle combination of washing fragrances that yet did not wipe away, but rather enhanced the natural earthy vaguely canine quality of his fur-scent...all in all, his firm yet fluffy chest was absolutely perfect for burying one's face in for luxury. His arms wrapped around Evelyn's body were likewise softly furry, and also huge compared to her body, muscular and strong...yet, he was holding her gently, carefully, in an almost shocking way given how strong he was--Evelyn would have no trouble squirming out of his embrace at all, should she choose to do so. But as long as he didn't, the enveloping of his arms and chest around her created an instinctively sheltering feeling, comforting and safe.

"Pet knows...knows he will be punished, very very badly for touching Mistress without permission..." The large male said in his best warm, soothing voice as soon as he pulled her into the hug. "But Mistress is upset...Pet does not know why Mistress is upset, but Mistress should not be upset, Mistress should be happy..." He continued speaking as he then added a slight and gentle side-to-side rocking of his body. This act was only a small part of his training, but he had indeed still been trained in some things that some Mistresses would like him to do when they were beset by problems that Pet could not solve, he had been taught that just being the best calm, relaxing presence he can be would often help. "Please, Mistress, I don't know what is wrong, but you should be happy and that is all that matters...I don't know what else to do to try and help you be calm, I'm scared...nothing that happens to Pet matters, only that Mistress should be happy..."

 

[Frogger]

A pair of large, and yet surprisingly gentle hands cupped about her shoulders, but before Evelyn could offer any sort of protest… he had taken it upon himself to pull her into his chest. At first, Evelyn put her hands to his chest in order to maintain distance between he and her… however, her resolve crumpled before she could fully… implement it. The first thing her frantic mind happened to process was… incredibly soft fur, the likes of which she never felt until now. In fact… it was softer than the finest of silks, the most luxurious of velvet. Evelyn choked back a sob, halfway tempted to bury her face in all that softness… to cry out every last bit of hurt she had tucked away inside her heart these past several years. Every tear is a word she could not say to her mother, to her sisters, to her father, in her defense. It did not help he is… very warm, but strong, despite how large he is in comparison to she.

Bright blue -though somewhat darker now under the influence of so many negative emotions- struggled to remain open, however… it was useless. Evelyn can feel her resistance breaking, fracturing, until it is no more than pieces , remnants of what it once was. How strange that… in this creature’s arms, she feels… safe, as if no harm can come to her. His voice interrupted not just her thoughts, but the fragile silence, soothing and warm, reminding her of honey, almost… and making it to where she could not fight against the impulses any longer. A hand curled into his soft fur, and with more tears spilling down her cheeks, Evelyn buried her face into his chest, sobs causing the small girl to shake. It is because of her inexperience in the ways of… sexuality that she did not realize her breasts were pressing into him, or the fact that this could be misconstrued as inappropriate.

Her? Happy? Why? How can she be happy when everyone is trying to change who she is? Evelyn prefers books over the company of others, the peaceful and quiet atmosphere instead of rambunctious… rambling and ranting about things she cares little about. Not only that, but it seems her opinions and thoughts matter little as well. The Queen bought her a sex slave without taking into consideration how she may feel about the so-called gift. Everyone likes to make decisions concerning her… and without consulting her beforehand. How can she happy-? Evelyn twisted as to face him more so, because… in pulling her into this unexpected embrace, her legs had ended up curled uncomfortably underneath her. It is… very comforting in his arms, oddly enough. It seems that… she is calming down, even though she does not necessarily want to. Why? Why does she find this to be so soothing-?! It does not make any sense! Evelyn sniffled every now and then, roughly rubbing at her face and eyes in an attempt to hide, per se. Yes, of course he already knows she is crying… but it does not mean he has to see her red, puffy eyes or her swollen face meanwhile! “You? Be punished?” Evelyn finally found the words to say after an awkward moment where… she had pulled away just enough to look at him, but through a curtain of gold. “N-No. No, no, no. I would… I would not punish you, ah…” Did she ever get his name earlier? Not likely. If she had, it has slipped her mind. Evelyn is ashamed to admit it, but… she has not an inkling what it could be, nor does she care to try and guess.

Red rising to her face at this point in time, Evelyn fidgeted… and yet, she was reluctant to leave his soft, warm embrace. It was not unlike being wrapped in her favorite blanket in front of a roaring fire… and, well… she is having difficulty getting her thoughts together. The tips of her ears burning, she could not meet his eyes, nor could she bring herself to look at him. “I… I know… you do not wish for me to return you,” Evelyn realized she blurted out far too late. Of course… she could not take the words back, but instead carry on. “I just… I do not know what I would do with a… slave,” she continued, though the last word she could not say any louder than a whisper, as if it were bad or cursed. “I am not interested in pursuing… sexual entertainment… nor do I wish to experiment or explore the possibilities… I just… I do not know.” Evelyn finished this on the softest of sighs, letting her head rest against his shoulder. It is true that her eyes are red, that they are puffy, that her face is swollen as well… however, it diminished the Princess’ natural beauty little.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Every moment seemed in slow-motion for Rook, every detail was taken in. Mistress was unhappy, and that was wrong, he needed to do something to make her happy. Even though--especially since--she was going to send him away, this was the most important thing he'd ever do. He noticed how she almost put her hands up to him as if to push him away when he began to pull her into the hug, and for an instant was afraid he would be unable to even do this much, but her arms went limp just as quickly, allowing him to embrace her. And once he finished speaking...he felt one of her hands slowly take some of his abundant fur into a clenched fist, as she then turned her face into more of his fur. This was not unusual for Rook, he had been trained to be familiar with cuddly Mistresses who would do just this--but what was unusual was how he could feel and hear his Mistress begin to sob into his chest, as her body became wracked with small, jerky convulsions. That said, although it was unusual for him, he was not totally unaware of the meaning, having once or twice experienced something similar himself. This was a temporary overwhelming crash of emotion, and sometimes, the only thing to do was to wait it out.

And so he did. He kept Evelyn held in the hug. He slowly, gently, rocked back and forth with her in his arms. He felt her twist a bit against his body, and realized immediately she was trying to get her legs more comfortable, so he loosened his embrace just slightly for her to do so, before returning to a comforting, gentle squeeze. He felt a slight amount of moisture on his chest getting through his fur, from Evelyn's tears, but he ignored that entirely. For his Mistress' comfort, there was nothing he would not take. Evelyn's head also happened to be just near the right spot against his chest for her to hear, and even feel, a small yet firm and steady thump-uh, thump-uh, thump-uh, thump-uh, the rhythmic beat of his heart. His heartrate had been raised a little at first, but now it had slowed to a more normal pace, and was simply a quiet drum near Evelyn's head. Unobtrusive, yet another calming stimulation, something predictable and relaxing to focus on.

And eventually, her sobbing convulsions began to subside, and the already-muffled sound of her cries quieted. He watched her rub at her face and sniffle every now and then, none of it bothered him, he was just glad that she finally seemed to be calming down. When she finally did press against his chest with her hands, he immediately loosened his arms and allowed her to pull away, just enough for her to look up at him through her golden tresses, her bright blue eyes making contact with his brilliant emeralds again. He let out a small, surprised breath when she insisted that he would not be punished. He didn't understand it, he was supposed to be punished when he did something he wasn't supposed to, even if it was the right thing to do. That was the way it worked. He did notice her voice skip and trail off at the end, but wasn't sure why. And also, while indeed he had not given Mistress his name yet, neither had she given hers, but the thought didn't even cross Rook's mind. He was Pet and she was Mistress and that was all that mattered, unless Mistress wanted more.

She then broke the eye-contact, though she still did not leave his embrace entirely, so Rook gently pressed his hands up and down her back; a slow, gentle massage. At her first words however, Rook's arms did stutter for a moment, as he was filled with guilt. "I...am sorry, Mistress. I should have accepted that immediately. It was selfish and wrong of Pet to think he could be worthy of Mistress..." He said the words, and he still meant them, yet for reasons he couldn't explain it still hurt somewhere inside him to say it. It hurt so bad. Just more proof he was not good enough, a worthy Pet would feel nothing and accept judgment. She continued speaking, however, and Rook listened, slightly confused, as she then rested her head against his shoulder. Even though it was wrong of him to want it for himself, he gave Evelyn another slight, constant squeeze of his arms as she rested against him. He was a bad Pet, a selfish Pet, for taking advantage of this...but, he did answer her words quickly. "Mistress...of course Mistress knows what to do with Pet...whatever Mistress wants to do with Pet, is what Mistress would do with Pet. Whatever Mistress wants is right." He rubbed her back again. "And Pet would never do anything Mistress does not want Pet to do. Never." He said, adding just a slight reassuring firmness to his voice as he continued holding and rubbing...but, still, he knew he wouldn't be staying anyway. He couldn't help but let out a small sigh before speaking again. "But...Pet is still not worthy of Mistress, Mistress has decided. Pet will be sent back to the training Mistresses as a failure, and the Mistresses will make failed Pet...go away, forever." He paused in his gentle back-and-forth rocking, for just a moment. "...Pet accepts this." He started rocking again. "Pet did something to make Mistress not sad...Pet cannot want any more than that. Pet should not want anything at all. Pet will go now when Mistress says. Mistress never has to see unworthy Pet again."

 

[Frogger]

“It is not a question of whether you are worthy of me,” Evelyn did not hesitate to reply, though she did find it difficult to look him in the eye, “it is a question of whether I am worthy of you.” A soft sigh leaving her lips, Evelyn fought not to fidget under his curious eyes, instead focusing on anything but. It was not easy. “I know… it is a great honor to receive a slave such as yourself, and… I know I should be grateful, I should be ecstatic and… among other things, I just…” Blue eyes studied the hands nearly buried in grey fur, heat once again rising to her face as she struggled to find the right words. “You are meant to… provide services which… I have heard of, have knowledge of… and yet, not once considered doing myself. I know you have trained in… such things, and I am sure for a very long time. If I was to accept you as my slave… I would surely prove to be a disappointment.” Evelyn does not know if she can handle another set of judgmental eyes weighing so heavy upon her… especially since so many others belong to those she cares about and loves, who share the same name as she. A lump in her throat, blue disappeared from view once she closed her eyes, bowing her head until she can no longer feel the uneasy tension… at least, not nearly as heavily as she did before. How can she put her thoughts into words he can understand-?

Then again, is it worth the effort of repeating herself? Evelyn doubts he will listen… because, in his eyes, she is his Mistress, and she is always right. Naught else matters. A soft, almost exasperated sigh leaving her lips, Evelyn decided to indulge herself and bury herself in the silky fur of his chest, since she is at a loss for words once again. It seems no matter what she says, it revolves in circles, and… well, it is difficult to put up a decent argument when she can barely think straight. It is… comforting to have a pair of strong arms around her, though… to have someone hold her without the smallest shred of contempt or judgment. It helps he has the softest fur… Evelyn let her eyes draw to a close, simply not quite sure how to handle this most… unusual of situations. Never did she imagine finding such a gift chained to her bed… nor did she think she would feel the weight of Mother’s expectations so heavily upon her shoulders. Must sexual prowess mean so much-?

Mayhap it is best she gets it done and over with. It is not as though it makes any difference whether she does it now or later, with a slave or with a suitor. Tendrils of dread wrapping about her heart… Evelyn released a sigh and drew back far enough to where she is no longer enjoying his soft fur, but instead looking to the wolf that was given onto her without a thought of her feelings. His eyes are kind, gentle… and the most stunning shade of green she has ever seen, however… it is but a lie, an illusion cast by the cruelest of sorcerers. Ever since he was young, perhaps younger still, he had to have been trained to devote his heart, his mind, his very soul… to a Mistress. It is not as though he cares about her. “I suppose I have no other choice,” Evelyn whispered, dejection flickering over her pretty features as she offered him a ghost of a smile. “I shall let you remain here… and if… if it…” The words threatening to overwhelm her, Evelyn swallowed past the lump in her throat, struggling to push past not just it, but the nerves, the impulse to bow her head and hide. A trembling began once again, despite the absence of tears residing in warm blue.

“Y-Your presence here… reveals that my mother will not be satisfied until I have… lain with you, or at the very least, lost myself in the throes of passion with a man.” Evelyn has no idea how she managed to say it all without a great deal of stuttering, but it seems she shall never escape the one sign that which portrays her embarrassment: blushing. It feels as though her face is about to melt off! Is that possible? Not likely, and yet… never did she imagine she would find herself in this position. A deep breath failed to calm her frazzled nerves, instead making her more reluctant to speak, to share the idea. “If… If you would be so kind as to… as to pull on the laces of my corset, I shall satisfy not just the expectations of my family, but provide you with the honor of… of fulfilling… your duties.” This is what everyone wants, is it not? It is not just his honor that hangs in the balance. Evelyn slowly rose up to her feet, gently untangling herself from his warm embrace while she looked anywhere but at him. A wave of curly gold hid half of her face as she twisted… hands pulling at the neckline of her gown, as to reveal the tops of her shoulders. “You… You did not fail me,” she spoke up, her words no louder than a whisper. “You did not fail anyone.” Evelyn bit the corner of her lip, the flesh darkening to a red because of the abuse, looking at him from over a shoulder. The tips of her ears were hot, and her embarrassment is very much present… however, her smile was small, if not genuine. Blue fabric has pooled about the girl’s slender frame, barely clinging onto her shapely breasts… revealing a great deal of smooth, porcelain skin. A hand kept the dress from falling down completely, though.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Rook blinked at Evelyn's quick response to his comment on worthiness. His head tilted slightly, confused. What she had said didn't make any sense at all. Pets were worthy (or not) of Mistresses or Masters. And...that was that. There was nothing else to it. The large wolf-man was slightly distressed at being unable to comprehend what she had said--Mistress had said it, therefor it had to be important somehow. But then she started speaking again, weirdly seeming to try and avoid his gaze. That didn't make much sense either, nor did what Mistress say, but Rook could at least grasp the concept of what she said. "Mistress could never be a disappointment." Rook responded, just as quickly as she had about worth. "Whatever Mistress does or wants is right. It does not matter what a Mistress uses a Pet for, or does not use a Pet for. Pet will provide any service Mistress asks as best as Pet can. Mistress will do what Mistress wants, and that will be correct." From there however, Evelyn took another moment to sink into the soft and plush fur of his chest and press against his warm, firm, comforting muscles underneath. Rook returned his arms to being gently wrapped around her back again, with one hand idly and tenderly stroking her hair.

After some time of embracing again, the young woman pushed away from the deceptively near-equally young wolf-man, to look up into his face. Rook's gaze was as soft as always. He could not read the turbulent thoughts inside her mind, but he was very well-versed in paying attention to emotions, and the sadness on Evelyn's face as she mentioned no choice did not escape his notice. He frowned and started to open his mouth to respond, when she spoke again...and this time, Rook's eyes widened in surprise. Did...did she really mean...dare he hope? "Mistress...will keep Pet?" Rook breathed out softly. "Pet is not going away? ...Th...thank you! Pet promises to be the best Pet that Mistress could ask for!" He said, in a quiet voice but one clearly full of relief and elation. He stayed quiet as she started speaking again...but, again, he could pick up on her quaking and unsteadiness, how she seemed to be forcing herself to speak. He listened intently as spoke while slowly standing up, at which he easily unclasped his arms from around her to not hinder her from standing. She turned away from him, whispering assurances that he did not fail. At this, Rook felt additional waves of relief.

And yet, something was still wrong. Rook's training had him be intimate with more women than he could count. He was trained to be able to pick up on any possible Mistress' feelings, so that he could understand her desires and serve her best. He knew what a relaxed, comforted, happy woman looked like. His Mistress...was none of that, none of it at all. Her body language, tone, avoidance of looking at him, every little thing she did, was screaming unhappiness at his well-honed sense of emotion. He didn't know what was wrong, but neither would he fail in a spoken desire, so he got upright on his knees--he was so tall and large, that just being on his knees rather than his feet had him rise almost above Evelyn's full height--and reached his hands towards her back facing him. Slowly and gently, he tugged on the laces of the corset, undoing them...until her corset was loosened up just enough that she could get it off the rest of the way herself if she wanted, but was just still hanging onto her for now.

Task complete, and still sensing so many negative emotions from his Mistress, Rook had to speak up again. "Mistress...Pet can see that something is very wrong...Mistress is still unhappy about something..." He had been thinking about what she had said. "The only commands for Pet from Queen were to sleep where Mistress does, and escort Mistress where she goes...and a command from Mistress is still more important. Pet will not do anything Mistress does not want. Never. Pet...is guessing that Mistress does not want to continue this. Pet will not continue if Mistress does not want it. Pet will only do what Mistress wants. That is Pet's only duty. Pet is just honored to be Pet." He said, trying to reassure her. It was weird though, she had to know this already. There shouldn't be any need for reassurance, but, there was still something wrong and Rook just couldn't figure out what for sure. "What...what would Mistress like Pet to do, that will make Mistress happy? Would...more cuddling make Mistress happy? Mistress can cuddle her Pet as much as she wants..." He asked, desperately trying to find something, anything, that could help put his Mistress at ease, going with the only thing that had seemed to work so far. He did, however, have one additional question. "A-and... if Mistress is going to... keep Pet... can... can Pet know... Mistress' name?" He asked in a quiet and subdued voice, hopeful but hesitant.

 

[Frogger]

In that instant, Evelyn felt naught but an overwhelming sense of… relief. Is he not required to satisfy his Mistress in ways which she has heard about in… explicit detail throughout the years? Is he not required to do so? Mother has sat her down many a time, taken her hand into hers, and… explained what happens in the bedroom between a man and a woman, despite her pleas and protests. In a way… she herself is a slave, but to the expectations that which are tangled in the title of ‘Princess’. Tears stinging her eyes, Evelyn lifted her head up a tad to blink rapidly, to be rid of the evidence before it comes to be. Yes. It is… most likely for the best they do not go through with… this preposterous idea. He may believe she can never disappoint him… however, he knows little of her, and that… remains to be seen. Evelyn knows she is not the most… appealing or attractive of women. Most men seem captivated by Lillias’ flirtatious smile, or Aveline’s… womanly figure. It is not an idea she relishes, having to endure his… dismay, or his scrutiny. A hand protecting what little dignity she has left, Evelyn looked at him from over a shoulder and offered him a ghost of a smile. It was weak, true, but it was sincere. “Is… that true?” she dared ask of him. “I do not have to lay with you?”

Why does Mother insist he sleep where she does? Follow her, wherever she may go? Is she not allowed any privacy? Evelyn had to swallow the questions down, else give them voice when he himself have no answers to provide. No, instead… she chose to preoccupy herself with the dress itself, being that she cannot handle the laces of her corset. A hand brushed over the fabric, as though to be rid of wrinkles… however, there was none to be seen. “I am unhappy,” Evelyn chose to confess at long last, in the oppressive presence of the awkward tension which had befallen them. “I am, but… I do not think it is anything you can resolve. I believe what is within your power, though… is to tie my laces of my corset, so I may pretend as though I never offered such a ridiculous idea in the first place.” A soft laugh wove through the quiet, but it was just as weak as her smile earlier, and so, the notes crumbled and fell apart. Evelyn kept her eyes down as he moved forward to do just that, her heart racing entirely too fast for her liking. How embarrassing, this situation is. It is a shame she does not have the ability to wipe clean their minds, to erase the memory… and it would not be so easy to cast aside this fluttery feeling.

More cuddling? Evelyn twisted to face him once he was through, hands tucked neatly behind her back while she considered this option. It is… not very productive, if she was to be honest with him. It will be a waste of time to continue cuddling. An insubstantial smile gracing her lips, Evelyn could not refrain from brushing her hands over the skirts of her gown… or from shuffling nervously under that hopeful gaze. What does he expect of her-? Did she not say she will keep him? What is he hopeful for? “As… sweet as your offer is, I think I have had my fill of… cuddling…” she told him ever so gently, though she had no hope of swallowing down the laugh bubbling up. “I… apologize if this sounds ignorant of me, but why ask me of my name? I thought slaves use only ‘Master’ or ‘Mistress’ to address their…” Evelyn’s words trailed off, bright blue eyes blinking at the wolf anthromorph, though it was not long before color risen in order to brush pink over her pale features. A hand rose to brush against a hot cheek.

“... So be it,” Evelyn continued on a sigh, despite the fact pink had darkened to a rosy red. “My name is Evelyn. You may call me by my name if it so pleases you, I have no preference. I do have to admit, I do not care for the idea of being called ‘Mistress’.” Her nose crinkled at the thought, but her expression of displeasure melted within moments into something softer, more gentle. “I… do not have anything I need you to do. I cannot think of anything, either… however, if you wish to join me in the library, you may. I would not mind the company, long as it is quiet.” Evelyn bent and offered him a hand to use to get up off the floor, her other buried in fabric. A few pieces of gold swayed forward as she did so, framing the smile she chose to give. It is surprising, given the current circumstances that which she obtained a… slave, of all things. To be honest, Evelyn expected to receive a necklace heavy under the weight of sapphires and topaz, or a bracelet sparkling with rubies, but not him. Never him. Mother used to give such gifts, so she is curious: how did she get the idea of buying a slave for her most introverted of daughters? It had to have been planted by someone else, or… did inspiration strike? Did she notice a woman at court with a slave? “I just hope I do not bore you,” Evelyn told him, eyes shifting away so she can no longer meet his gaze. “I… I am told I am too quiet, I am too reserved. It is part of the reason I say I would not know what to do with you…” Uh oh. Does it sound as though she is turning him away again? Evelyn realized this too late and, flustered, fought to clear her throat. “I… suppose it shall take time to… get accustomed to your presence here…” she decided to say next in the hopes that any possible misunderstandings are put to rest.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Even though he was looking at her back, Rook could tell that something changed in his Mistress, as her posture shifted in a very subtle way after his words, becoming slightly less tensely-held. He saw a faint smile on her face as she turned her head to look at him while keeping one arm over the front of her corset to hold it up. He had done something good? At her question, Rook just blinked and quizzically tilted his head to the side a little. "Of course. Mistress does not have to do anything with Pet but what Mistress wants." He said in a tone that sounded like it was self-evidently obvious, yet not in any real condescending way--just simple statement of fact. She turned her head away from him again then, and he listened carefully to her as she spoke, head bowed and voice soft. A brief but sharp stab of panic went through him when she confirmed that she was indeed unhappy, which turned into an ache of concern as she insisted it was nothing he could do anything about, but did ask him to re-tie her corset. This was no problem for Rook even though he had just undone her corset at her command; it was a semi-common trial the training Mistresses imposed on him--making him go through the effort of doing something, then making him undo all that effort as soon as he was done. As far as submission-enforcing tasks like that went, this one was simple and near-effortless, and he didn't even give it a second thought; he just set about re-tying the laces. Despite how large and ungainly-strong his hands looked, he was able to lace it back up with a quick, easy deftness, re-setting everything firmly enough to be stable, but not tight.

His thoughts were more on her comment of her offer being 'ridiculous' and laughing about it. That didn't make any sense, there was nothing ridiculous about it at all, but Rook did not argue the point--he couldn't even imagine arguing with a Mistress. She turned fully to face him then, while he eased back down from where he was kneeling upright on the floor, placing his hands on his thighs. He was not too distressed at her turning down his offer of cuddling, her laugh that time sounded a little more genuinely mirthful. She then started to ask about why he wanted to know her name, and Rook looked worried for a moment. "Ah--f-forgive Pet, Mistress, you of course do not need to give your name if you wish other..." He started to say, but then trailed off when she proceeded to do just that. He blinked. "Mistress Evelyn." So that was her name! He smiled. "Mistress...Evelynnnn..." He said slowly, still smiling as he savored the sounds. The name of his true Mistress. The name he was now devoted to. "Mistress Evelyn!" He said one more time, nodding emphatically and still smiling.

She then started to say she didn't know what he could do, but then mentioned joining her in the library. He again nodded quickly and happily. "Yes! Pet will join Mistress Evelyn, Pet will escort Mistress Evelyn and give good quiet company, yes." She then went on about boring him and not knowing what to do with him. Again, his head simply tilted in a somewhat adorably-looking quizzical way, even on such a large and very masculine male. "Mistress Evelyn cannot bore Pet. Pet is happy to be at Mistress Evelyn's side." With seemingly nothing else to say, it looked like Evelyn was ready to go, but...Rook then immediately spotted that there was still one missing thing. "Oh! There is one more thing, Mistress Evelyn! Then Pet can escort Mistress properly." He turned around and, without getting to his feet, crawled on hands and knees swiftly across the floor back to the bed--weirdly seeming as if it was effortless and normal for him, despite how bipedally-unnatural it was. He reached underneath the bed to grab for something, then turned around and nearly as swiftly crawled back to Mistress. He knelt upright and settled-back before her again, as he raised both hands to her, held palms-up, and showed what he was lifting with them...

It was a collar. A very large and thick black leather collar, with a shimmery-silver outer surface inlaid with golden floral-design tracery. The collar was unbuckled, and also had a rather long leash already attached to it. "Since Mistress Evelyn is keeping Pet, if Pet is worthy...please, Mistress, seal me fully as your Pet. If the collar pleases you of course! If it does not, Mistress Evelyn may of course use any other collar she wishes instead. But if it does... Buckle the collar around my neck, make your ownership of me complete and final. Make me your Pet, and no one else's. Let all see that Pet belongs to you, in Pet's proper place." Rook then fell silent and held still as he waited, hands out and palms up, collar resting right there for Evelyn to pick up. His hugely-fluffy tail was also very conspicuously swishing side to side on the floor behind him, in short, rapid, eager wags. And his face, he looked so very much like he was...looking forward to this, a face full of hope and anticipation...

 

[Frogger]

“Mistress?” Evelyn repeated, only to bring up a hand as she struggled not to laugh. It is awkward to be addressed as such, almost embarrassing, even… but it seems he is not going to listen. From what she understands… that should not be so surprising. Slaves have to undergo… vigorous training in order to be prepared for a Master or Mistress. More than likely, he will not accept it any other way. It is all he knows. “I suppose that is the closest I will ever come to hearing my name.” A hand rising to brush aside the subject, Evelyn paused to hear him say she can never bore him. It was not long until a wry smile graced the young lady’s lips. “Yes, well. Forgive me if I do not believe you… but I… have proven myself to be anything but entertaining in the past. My own sisters barely tolerate my… quiet, reserved ways.” Evelyn could do nothing to prevent a laugh from slipping free this time, and instead chose to let it dance through the silence which has settled between he and her. It is… somewhat unsettling, his unwavering devotion and loyalty which has no… basis, no reason. As sweet as it is, she is not comfortable with it, and she doubts she will be anytime soon. Both hands brushed nervously over her dress, only to bury into the silk a heartbeat later. Heat did not hesitate to lick at her features anew. “I do not know why I am complaining. I hear a title more often than I do my name, so… I should be… used to it by now.” Why does she feel as though she can confide him about anything-? It makes no sense. Did they not just meet?

Yes, well. It matters not. It is best to push aside such questions, at least for the time being. It is not as though the answers will alter the present, after all. Evelyn had meant to twist away, to lead him out into the hallway beyond her door and, hopefully, to the library a floor below, but his voice halted her steps. Blue eyes gravitated to him as he crawled on hands and knees across the floor… to the bed and, reaching under, pulled out… something or another. It was impossible to tell as of yet. It did, however, serve to make her heart flip over inside her chest, and… is her palms sweaty? Unfortunately, it seems so. How many surprises must she endure before her life can return to normal-? Evelyn froze when she finally caught sight of what he is offering her, his head bent and palms holding up this object of… interest. It was as if ice gripped onto her heart. It was… It was a collar, of all things. It is a very large and thick black collar, inlaid with a golden floral design. It really is quite lovely, though she prefers silver instead of gold. No, no! That is not the point! A hand nervously curled into blue, gripping on tightly as many thoughts ran through the young lady’s mind.

Is he serious? A glance at his… hopeful expression had her heart sinking. How can she disappoint him-? It is not something she herself wants to do, but it is fairly obvious he does. No, the swaying of his tail -the short, rapid, eager wags- are but another sign on how much he wants this. Is it wrong she does not? Is it wrong to think it is… barbaric? And yet, if she was to refuse him… Evelyn could only offer him the smallest smile she can muster as she knelt before him, ever so reluctantly taking the wretched collar. It was without a word that she began to wrap it about his neck, though she was careful not to pull on his fur as she worked the clasp. It matters not what she thinks. It seems… she shall forever suffer for the sake of her people, to please those that are around her. Evelyn will not speak a word of this to anyone, certainly not he. No. It is best she continues to… keep her head down, her words to herself. It is not as though Mother will ever take into consideration her feelings on any one thing, after all, nor will anyone else. “There,” she croaked at long last, once the collar is secure, “all done.” Blue eyes did not lift to meet his while she rose from her place on the floor, or when hands brushed over the skirt of her dress. “Now. If we are finished here, I would like to go.”

Hands tucked neatly in front, Evelyn led herself out, every step a ‘click’ piercing the silence, echoing off the stone walls. A tapestry depicting a forest caught her eye, or rather, how the sunlight played over the gold thread outlining each individual leaf bathed in artificial dawn. Is it awful she longs to find some excuse to not attend dinner tonight? Is it strange she longs for nothing more than to be left alone? Evelyn never did care for the company of others, not even those that share the same blood as she… so why did Mother think she would be any different with a slave? Her heart heavy, Evelyn picked up her skirts so the fabric does not get in the way, descending until she came to a door off to her left. It is through here she went, the leash like a snake wrapped about her hand... cruel and poisonous even without fangs. Of course, he would follow regardless, because he would be obeying the orders bestowed onto him by the Queen. Evelyn considered the concept of ordering him to leave her side, but was quick to cast aside the idea. It shall not work. Nothing ever does, not in her favor.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Again, his Mistress seemed to talk about things he did not understand very well, but Rook still listened carefully and non-judgmentally. "There is nothing wrong with quiet and calm." He simply responded. "Whatever Mistress Evelyn likes to do is right. People should not be upset at you for being the way you like to be." He did not actually realize the significance of what Evelyn was confiding in him, and thus he did not realize the possible significance of his response, but he treated it with the same reverence and support as he did for everything else with his Mistress all the same. But then came the special moment. The moment he had been waiting for...waiting his whole life for. He held up the collar to Evelyn, presenting it like a tribute...and, for a moment, he was worried, as something hesitant and uncertain flitted across her face. But then, reassuringly, she did take the leashed collar from his hands. The moment she did, Rook immediately put his hands down on his kneeling knees as he lifted his chin, baring his somewhat fluffy-maned neck for her to easily access. It was happening. It was finally happening. He had of course worn a collar for most of his life being raised as a slave, but now, he was finally about to be genuinely collared, by his true Mistress! He was so excited he could barely contain himself. With every inch Evelyn's hand's reached around his neck with the collar, his tail wagged shorter and faster, he began to take in an eager anticipating breath as he closed his eyes...and the moment he felt his Mistress' hands brushing him, despite how nearly bursting with energy he was, he went absolutely still, holding his breath. As Evelyn began to work the buckle, she even found that there was a band of very cleverly-trimmed fur around his neck that formed a perfect seat for the collar to tighten into without his mane getting too much in the way or covering it up, clearly where the collar was meant to go.

And then, at last, the buckle was secured, and Evelyn began to step away while trailing his leash in her hand and saying it was done. Again, despite how excited he had just been...he let out the deep breath he had taken in slowly, calmly, as he opened his eyes with a smile and his tail began swishing behind him in longer and slower but still happy wags. He looked downwards as if to see his collar, though he of course could not with it being under his chin, but he did bring a single hand up to his neck to brush his fingertips over his collar. His true Mistress' collar. The sign that he was now, at last, after all those years of training for this very moment, a properly-owned pet. It felt so right to him. He felt complete at last. After a moment he looked back up at Evelyn, smiling widely and joyfully even though she was not looking directly at him. "Mmmmhh...Thank you, Mistress..." He said softly, in a voice full of grateful appreciation. And then, when she said she wanted to leave now, he was immediately ready to obey. "Yes! Of course Mistress, nothing more but what you want, I shall escort you as a proper Pet now." He said, quickly sliding from his very soothingly calm moment back into some of his peppy, upbeat demeanor.

As Evelyn walked out the door of her room, the very large wolf-man 'walked' along with her, keeping perfect pace at her side holding his leash...while down on hands and knees. His human-shaped form 'walked' on all fours beside her, the normally awkward and uncomfortable-looking posture seeming so normal for him with how casually and gracefully he moved in it. He didn't pay too much attention to the hallways they walked through, he was focused on his Mistress, and staying perfectly at heel with her no matter how slowly or quickly she moved. Finally, they arrived into a large open room with many shelves, every shelf filled with books. Rook could not read himself, but he did know what reading was, and how many Mistresses liked to do it as a pastime. He actively stayed at Evelyn's side but also out of her way no matter how she moved and browsed around, until she eventually found a book she wanted to read and a chair to sit down it. As a good boy should, Rook waited for his Mistress to sit down and settle in...and then he knelt slightly to the side and in front of the chair, just close enough that he could lean forward and gently lay his chin on her lap, across her knees. It was...just like what a particularly-affectionate dog might do. He looked up at her with a sparklingly-content emerald eye and a warm smile from the side of his face as he presented himself as something warm and fluffy for Mistress to pet or scratch or stroke whenever and if ever she wished, then let out a happy little "Hhhnnnnmmmmm...." hum as he closed his eyes and prepared to get comfortable. Mistress might not pet him, or might even tell him to move--which he would of course do so instantly if so--but until she did he made himself close and available for her to indulge in. Although, just in case... "If Mistress Evelyn needs Pet to move for her legs to be comfortable, Pet will of course obey right away--Pet will obey even silent nudges." He said quietly without lifting his head or opening his eyes, wanting to be sure Evelyn knew he was here for her.

 

[Frogger]

It is but another unexpected surprise to find him… nestling close once she had settled in her favorite armchair, placing his chin in her lap, not unlike a giant dog content to be close to his Mistress. Evelyn had just tucked her legs up underneath her, arranged her skirts to preserve her modesty, and… he just… took it upon himself to do so. Must he continuously push the boundaries-?! Heat rising to her face all over again, though not surprisingly, Evelyn could not offer any sort of protest. In placing the collar about his neck, she accepted the responsibility of having a slave, regardless of whether she asked or wanted one. It is just… typical of the life she leads. Royalty has no choice, not when there are others dictating what is proper and what is not… A chill of melancholy taking ahold of the young woman’s heart, Evelyn did not dare look to him as she opened her book to the first page. Perhaps it is best she… gives up her naive way of thinking, her ideals, and surrender herself to Mother’s wishes. It seems everyone else is content to do so. Lilias loves flirting, playing with hearts left and right… spending her free time in a different man’s bed nearly every night, between unfamiliar blankets. Aveline likes the attention of men, but so far has not yet gone so far as to take off her clothes for anyone. Evelyn herself… does not like the idea, nor is she interested in such carnal pleasures. Is that the point? Must she bow her head and never speak her mind, meekly accepting the fate which her title provides her? It was not until she had read the same line not once, not twice, but several times, that she came to realize it was hopeless to continue trying. A sigh left her lips as she went to close the book between her palms, the soft worn leather binding more calming than she cares to let on. It may seem silly to some, but she finds solace in reading, in the worlds visible only in the writer’s mind otherwise. In the past, Evelyn considered the idea of writing… and yet, it is a ridiculous notion. Everyone will read it because of who she is, not out of genuine interest… and every single one of them will bestow upon her the finest of praise, because of her status as Princess. It would be impossible to tell what they truly think of her work, thus… what is the point?

How very bleak, her future is. “Let us go,” Evelyn spoke at long last, breaking the fragile silence that is often present, as though shelved among the books. “Dinner shall be served shortly. I do not want to hear Mother and Father scold me for being late.” It feels wrong to be in this position. Evelyn has no need for a… a sex slave. It is not as though she can preoccupy him elsewhere, either, because Mother ordered him to never leave her side. Does privacy have to be sacrificed-? Ever so gently nudging his head up off the top of her knees, Evelyn had her feet touch the floor before rising, hands brushing out what wrinkles have set in. “I will need to change first,” she murmured to no one as she went through the motions of returning the book from whence it came. A fingertip grazed over the raised lettering upon retreating. Her eyes -the color of the sky on a clear summer day- barely linger on him for but a moment before she kneels in order to retrieve his leash up off the floor. As unlikely as it is, the leather… burns her palm, makes her ashamed in accepting this so-called gift. Evelyn’s fingers curled about the offensive thing and, rising, she twisted to leave the library. It is disappointing to leave so soon, and without enjoying the adventure a fictional character is embarking on… or the romance influencing a heart hiding behind a rough exterior, but how could she relax under these circumstances-?! A glance was spared out a passing window.

Barbara is usually the servant who helps her change out of her corsets and dresses, an older woman that has a kind, gentle soul… but alas, recent events have led to her leaving the castle early that very morning. It seems one of her daughters is heavy with child, however… there is complications with her pregnancy. It is understandable she would leave. Evelyn is just… accustomed to her soothing presence, so it will be unnerving to have anyone else help her… see her out of an inconveniently complicated dress. Nerves fluttering about in the pit of her stomach, she brought her hands together in the hopes that… she will find solace in such an act. Alas. It did not seem to work. It seems she has… not much of an appetite, either. Evelyn paused before the door to her room, reluctant to open it. Is there any way she can reach another servant? A hand lifting to brush threads of gold behind an ear, bright blue eyes looked up and down the corridor… hoping against hope one may take this corner and make an appearance. If only she were so lucky. Dread heavy upon her shoulders, like a cloak she cannot quite shake off, Evelyn dared to venture inside… though, reluctance had her pausing in the middle of the room. “I-I… I would like some privacy, please…” she spoke up at long last, not looking at him, and yet… the tips of her red ears visible. Both hands curled into the fabric of her dress, holding on tight. “I-I-I am… I intend to change, and I need my privacy in order to do so…” Is she blushing? Yes. Yes, she is. Evelyn has no doubt she is, because her face is… incredibly hot… It will be difficult to untie the laces of her corset, no, next to impossible… but she shall have to attempt the feat, to preserve her modesty.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Although Rook had been quite observant up to this point, once he closed his eyes after laying his chin on Evelyn's lap, he missed how uncomfortable it made her. He settled in and just let his mind slow down, resting, oblivious to Evelyn's doomed attempt to read her book as well as her tumultuous thoughts. Indeed, in what almost felt like no time at all, Rook heard Evelyn say it was time to go and dinner would be soon. His eyes blinked open, and he responded immediately as Evelyn nudged him by lifting his head up and pulling back, making sure to not get in her way as she stood up from her chair. It indeed seemed odd to him that she hardly spent any time at all relaxing with her book, but, she was Mistress, and if Mistress wanted to spend only a few minutes reading a book, then that was the way it would be. It made no difference to Rook. He watched her as she put the book away, then picked up his leash. He was at her side right away, crawling on all fours, but he did notice there had been something...off about Evelyn, with how she put the book away and picked up his leash. Something was still wrong? She had said earlier there was something very wrong, but it was nothing he could fix...he wanted to whine in sympathy. He didn't like a problem that he couldn't fix for Mistress. However, he kept silent and just smoothly crawled along at Evelyn's side as she led him out of the library.

Again, he was unaware of the disturbances in Evelyn's mind as they walked. He just calmly all-fours crawled beside Evelyn until she finally stopped in front of the door to her room. He briefly 'sat' back when she stopped, turning his head to look at her slightly quizzically as she glanced around the corridor, as if looking for something. Rook frowned slightly. Why was she still so tense? Again, Rook felt frustration at the idea of something being wrong that he couldn't fix. But finally, she opened the door and led him inside, stopping somewhere in the middle where, if anything, she seemed to get even more tense. The more stressed she appeared, the more antsy he became himself, shuffling nervously while his tail wagged less. He did perk up when she spoke, but...once again, what she said didn't seem to make much sense. "...P-p-please f-forgive Pet for....q-questioning..." He said with a slight whine--it felt very bad to be trying to question his Mistress like this, he knew it was wrong and he shouldn't do it. "But, Mistress Evelyn does n-not...want Pet to change her clothes for her? Would that not be...d-difficult?" He said in a nervous voice, wincing. It must have been so very strange to her; he was so large of a male that even sitting on the ground akin to a dog he was nearly taller than her, so powerfully built, and yet he was slightly but visibly flinching from her, as if he expected to be struck for speaking out...

 

[Frogger]

“Y-Yes, it shall prove to be difficult,” Evelyn admitted, heat once again licking her pale features and leaving behind a burn that which she had no hope of denying or hiding. Both hands brushed over soft blue fabric nervously, only to bury within the folds a heartbeat later.”I believe I can manage, though.” Is everything she does, everything she says and thinks, so wrong? Is that the reason why Mother insists she have a slave? In the hopes she be like her sisters? Evelyn mourns the thought her individuality is a… subject of ridicule, or happens to tarnish the family name. Torn out of her contemplation, Evelyn dared to look at him from over a shoulder… just to swallow past a lump in her throat. Does he think she will be so cruel as to strike him for asking a question-? A soft sigh leaving her lips, the young woman turned about to face him. “You need not fear me,” Evelyn told him gently, the words no louder than a whisper. “I will never… hit you, not for any reason. I think it to be… very…” Blue eyes studying him, she chose not to elaborate, instead shaking her head. It was then that she closed her eyes, the velvety darkness hardly a comfort. Dejection and despair had her heart sinking, and it required extraordinary effort not to plummet into a chasm deep within herself. It is difficult to put into words, but… for as long as she can remember, she has had to fight a persistent… loneliness, one of which likes to eat away at her when she least expects it. No, it is not just loneliness… but something far more sinister.

“I suppose it matters not whether it is you or a servant,” Evelyn spoke at long last, though the words were downcast, subdued. In a way, is he not a servant? Is he not obliged to follow her every order? No matter how he or her feels about it? “If you are not opposed to helping me out of my dress, I suppose I should not… offer any objections myself.” Who is she to deny him or her mother’s wishes? It is not as though her opinions hold any weight, nor do her preferences. Evelyn closed her eyes and put her back to him, that way it is easier to reach the laces of her gown first. It should not be overly difficult. It is the corset which always gives her the most trouble, or so it seems. It is… a very evil device, after all, meant to torture any and every woman across the land. A hand curling into a fist over her pounding heart, Evelyn dared to open her eyes, to look out through the nearest window to the a beautiful copse of trees beyond. Flowers are in full bloom amidst the branches, orange and pink and purple and yellow providing a dash of color in this… otherwise drab and dreadful world of theirs. Is this the reason why she prefers her books? As to not… endure the cruelty that which society has bestowed upon her, because she is a Princess? Evelyn’s lips curved into something resembling a smile, only it had sardonic implications lurking just beneath the surface.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Rook's ears flicked, though he kept his gaze downward, when his Mistress admitted that changing herself would not be easy...then his ears flicked again when she said she still thought she could manage it on her own. Rook still felt a little conflicted, but even more felt like he deserved punishment, of course his Mistress was sure, it was wrong to question her...but then he heard her voice, so quiet it was almost a whisper, but he could still make it out. He blinked and looked up at her as she turned to him and spoke, saying she would...never hit him? Rook blinked a few times with an uncomprehending look on his face as Evelyn fell silent and shook her head with closed eyes. He didn't get why Mistress was acting that way, but even more confusingly, why would Mistress say something like that? She could hit him if she wanted to, regardless of what she said...she was Mistress, and could do whatever she wanted with Pet at any time. Rook eventually decided it must be like one of those times his training-Mistresses occasionally said one thing to him, but intentionally did another, to keep him alert and attentive. It was normal for a Mistress to do that.

But then Mistress spoke up again, and this time, Rook's ears perked up. He could tell there was still something wrong with her tone, but...she was saying he should change her clothes! He quickly nodded. "Of course Pet is not...opposed! Pet will perform any duty Mistress Evelyn needs." he said quickly and enthusiastically, only stumbling on the one word that he almost never used, personally. As soon as Evelyn turned her back to him, Rook shuffled forward to get into reach. Just like before, his large fingers were surprisingly dexterous and were able to undo the laces with practiced ease. The corset was loosened, and unlike before, this time he smoothly slid it all the way off...which, of course, was then followed by the actual dress that Evelyn was wearing, which quickly began exposing her body. Where the shield of her clothes was pulled away, Evelyn could feel those warm, soft, so very comfortably furry hands brushing over her skin, as Rook disrobed her just like her normal servant would, quickly and efficiently, until she was down to just her panties

And, despite Evelyn's near-completely-bare body quickly being revealed to him, Rook's gaze did not linger improperly, even as he moved around in front of her to finish gathering her clothes up. Mistress had not yet given him permission to be aroused, so he wasn't even thinking of trying to worship or even look closely at her body, not yet. Rook quickly folded up the clothes in front of Evelyn, making them very neat and tidy, all without staring at her, barely even glancing at her. Once he had finished stacking the clothes, he looked up at her--to her eyes even, without his gaze pausing anywhere else on her body--and asked "Where should Pet put these, and where are the clothes Mistress Evelyn would like to wear now?" in a calm and casual voice, no awkwardness or shame on his part.

 

[Frogger]

Evelyn closed her eyes, trying to ignore the loosening of the laces, how her heart had dropped into the chasm that is her stomach. It is… somewhat surprising how dexterous his large fingers are, but she did not anticipate him taking off the wretched corset so quickly, nor he to go so far as to remove her dress as well. Nerves jumped about in her chest where her heart is supposed to be when the air licked at her exposed skin, and it required every ounce of willpower she had not to make a noise surely to embarrass her later. It was impossible to ignore how soft his hands were, however… how incredibly warm they were against the chill of her skin, though. Is that the reason why wolf anthromorphs are known to be best lovers-? Evelyn swallowed past the lump in her throat once she was free of lace and silk, and despite the fact his eyes did not linger upon her improperly… she could not fight against the impulse to hide her body from view. An arm wrapped tightly about her breasts. It is… very unnerving, being almost completely naked in front of a stranger. Yes, he is being respectful… but it is still making her heart race. It did come as a surprise Rook had gone on to fold her clothes, stacking it all in a neat pile before her.

“Y-You can just set those aside,” Evelyn told him, the words no louder than a whisper. “A maid will come in later to fetch my dirty things.” What is she to wear to dinner-? It is not as though she spared the issue a thought before giving him permission to work on her corset. Evelyn shuffled uneasily, biting her lip while thinking of what to say. “I… I have no preference, so you can just… grab anything,” she murmured, not meeting his expectant gaze. How is he comfortable with these circumstances?! Is it because of his training? A hand came up to brush over a hot cheek, though she doubts it will hide the evidence of her embarrassment. “I just wore blue, thus… I think it will be… better if my evening attire is anything but,” she continued, trying to speak clearly and without stuttering. Blue does happen to be her favorite color, however… Mother has told her on many an occasion that wearing such a dreary color over and over again gives the impression she herself is just as dull, if not more so. Could it be her way of implying she needs to wear brighter colors-?

It makes sense. Mother may like to wear soft, subtle colors in contrast to her beautiful red hair, but it was always a variety: green and blue and purple and pink. Not once does Evelyn ever remember the Queen looking less than regal. A hand lingering on her cheek, Evelyn let her gaze shift to out through the window to the world beyond. As a Princess, she must take into account how others see and think of her when she is out and about… even if the crown will never rest upon her head. No, the only way she can be a Queen is if she marries a Prince in line for the throne… and the chances of that happening are very slim. Evelyn’s older sisters will be the first to marry. More than likely, she will marry for the sake of an alliance. Both arms wrapped about her at this point in time, Evelyn blinked and went to glance at him over her shoulder, wondering what is taking him so long.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Something still seemed...wrong with Mistress, as when Rook removed her clothes, he did notice that her body remained highly tense, and once she had been fully disrobed, she had an arm tightly crossed over her chest. Rook didn't know why she was doing that, but it didn't bother him--the only thing that bothered him was how...off his Mistress still appeared to be. At her whispered command to simply set her old clothes aside for a different servant to manage, Rook did so, carrying them to the nearest available empty surface to lay them down on. He did stand up--for the first time--to do this, letting his leash hang over his back. This wasn't too unusual for him, it wasn't possible for Pets to never stand on their hind legs, nor was it possible for his leash to always be held by a Mistress' hand, so in a private setting like this and in the course of carrying out other duties, it was fine. But it was the first time he wasn't holding himself lower to the ground than Evelyn.

He was slightly stalled when she said she had no preference for what to wear next, and that he should 'grab anything'. But...how could he decide something like that? He was just a Pet. She did thankfully give him one criteria, anything but blue, but that still didn't help. Rook frowned...but, Mistress had given him the commands, and so he had to carry them out....somehow. He walked over to her wardrobe and opened it, looking the dresses hung up inside. He examined each of them. What to choose? What if...he picked wrong? She had said "anything but blue", but what if there was some other criteria he should have already known about and thought of? That happened frequently with the training Mistresses. But even then, with the training Mistresses, he could always at least guess the intent and desire of them from context and was able to be more responsive...but here, he had nothing.

He did think that the blue had looked very nice on her. But she wanted something that wasn't blue...he glanced his own head over his shoulder at her, then back at the wardrobe...well, it might be slightly 'close' to blue, but, perhaps this would look nice on her? Rook finally settled on a soft, warm, teal-colored dress from the wardrobe. Not a deep or flashy color like some of the others in the wardrobe, but a comfortable pastel. Rook dearly, dearly hoped he selected well. He walked back over to Evelyn, who was facing away from him and towards a window, 'hugging' herself, although when she glanced her head over her own shoulder, she would, briefly, see how large he truly was, standing up at full towering height with his broad, hunky body. But then, before she could have enough time to really take in his size, he was kneeling back down behind her, bringing himself back down to a more 'manageable' height as he held up the dress, and started preparing to put it on her.

At the same time...he noticed, again, just how tense her body was. Looking at her bare, naked back, it was impossible to miss. Her muscles were so taut and on-edge. He could almost see the knots of stress in her back, even. He just...wanted her to feel calm. "I...do not know what is still bothering Mistress Evelyn..." He said behind her in a quiet voice, but still filled with his rich and warmly smooth voice. And then...since some training Mistresses liked it when he displayed affection for them, before he began to dress Evelyn, he leaned his head forward, opened his mouth...and dragged his warm, damp tongue up one of her shoulderblades in a gentle lick. "If there is anything Pet can do to help Mistress Evelyn, Pet will do it...Pet can see you look very tense...Pet can massage your back, if you want? Pet just wants to see you happy and calm..." Rook said, before he then started to help Evelyn into the dress, gently and carefully, getting it up around her body enough that he could begin to lace the dress up, again being shockingly delicate with how he handled his fingers. It was no stretch to imagine how good a massage from those very same fingers might be...

 

[Frogger]

It was Rook approaching her that had panic clambering about inside her chest, clutching at her heart intensely -to the point it robbed her of breath. How did she not realize this sooner? He is so much larger than she… and of course she knew this before, but she did not realize how much so until right then. How big is he? Truly? Six feet tall? Seven? Luckily Evelyn did not have long to consider this before he was kneeling behind her, presenting a teal dress. It does happen to be one of her favorites, and… technically speaking, it is not blue… A small, wry smile pulling at the corners of her lips, Evelyn did not say a word as he began to put it on her. It did surprise her, however, that he chose to speak up at that very moment. “Hm?” Evelyn twisted her head about in an attempt to hear him better, seeing as how his voice is no louder than a murmur… but… A squeak broke free of her lips not even two seconds later, heat licking at her features anew. Wh-What was that?! It was warm, and… wet, and completely unexpected. A hand darted up to press against her mouth, but of course it was useless to try and hide her embarrassment.

Why did he do such a thing? And why did it feel so… good? It is impossible to think straight, to pick apart the reasons why when her heart is pounding so hard… especially when she cannot see why Mother thought it may be a good idea to give her a slave as a gift. Evelyn fought to swallow past the hard lump in her throat, once, twice, and even then… it was incredibly difficult to speak up and answer. Why is her mouth so dry? “I… I am fine,” she replied, albeit hoarsely, closing her eyes in order to preserve what little dignity she has left to her name. “I do… appreciate your concern, but I am fine.” Perhaps if she says it enough times, the lie will no longer be that, but the truth before very long. Evelyn brushed a hand over her cheek, just to release a sigh and open her eyes. It is stressful to have him close as it is, to have him… get involved in things that which she rather he not be. How much more can she take-? Once he was through with the dress, she chose to do her hair herself, sitting before the mirror and pulling all the gold back into a simple bun pinned with a few ribbons to match.

Dinner was… quiet. Everyone was gathered together, which is rare in of itself, and though there were plenty of curious glances thrown their way… no questions were asked. Evelyn learned something new, too: Rook will not join them at the table, but instead sit beside her… and he will not eat unless she has a plate made on his behalf. It is definitely unnerving to do so, and in front of several pairs of eyes. Not once did she speak, did she contribute to the conversation that every so often interrupted the silence. No. It just felt like… after everything today, it was too much to expect of her. Besides, it is not as though she has anything to say. An hour trickled on past, and… Evelyn could not help but be relieved once dessert was served. Normally she enjoys this course greatly, but it was not so tonight. As sad as it is to say, she just wants the day to be done and over with. “Goodnight,” Evelyn told her family, bowing her head ever so slightly before bending down to retrieve the leash. “I hope you all rest well, and I shall see you in the morning.” Evelyn likes the idea of having her breakfast in her private quarters, instead of under everyone’s scrutiny, but alas.

A soft sigh left her lips upon returning and, free of the teal dress, sat before her mirror to get rid of the ribbons. Alone now, Evelyn chose to wear a light purple nightgown to bed, one of which happens to be a nice contrast against the rosy pink of her skin, against the gold of her hair and the blue of her eyes. It was of a pleasant lilac, with sheer sleeves that end just at the crook of the elbow, and coral-colored flowers are embroidered in exquisite detail down one side, all the way to the hem brushing at the young lady’s ankles. “I do not know about you, but I am exhausted,” she told Rook over her shoulder, tendrils falling to frame her face as ribbon after ribbon is pulled free. Evelyn gathered her hair up off the back of her neck, but seconds later she let the threads slip between her fingers and tumble over her shoulders anew. “I am just happy I shall greet a new day.” Nothing will change, but… tomorrow, she will not have to relive the events of today. “Oh, I need to wash my face.” Evelyn may not wear any cosmetics, like other noble ladies of court, but she thinks it to be a good habit regardless. “I will do that first before brushing out my hair,” she decided, moving so she may do just that.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Unfortunately, it seemed to Rook that his little lick of affection might not have had the effect he intended, with how Evelyn quickly pressed a hand over her mouth and seemed almost more tense. She eventually responded that she was okay...but Rook couldn't figure out why she was saying that. She clearly was not fine...so why was she telling him that? It was his job to tend to his Mistress' every need... Once Evelyn was fully dressed again and she took his leash to lead him out of the room, he followed at her side on hands and knees again, but with a somewhat troubled feeling nagging at him. Upon reaching the dinner table, Rook did as a proper Pet should, and sat on the floor to the side and behind Evelyn's chair like a Pet; with his feet and rear on the ground, knees pulled up almost to his shoulders, and hands down on the floor between his legs. It was a well-practiced pose for him, easy to do despite how uncomfortable it might have looked to others--which was of course the point. There was very little conversation at the dinner, even with the number of people present. At one point, the Queen told his Mistress that she needed to call for food for him. Behind Evelyn's chair, rook tilted his head...how could Mistress not know that? But Mistress Evelyn then did just that and called another servant to serve him a meal too...and very unusually, Evelyn simply said to just serve him the same thing everyone else was eating. Rook perked up in surprise, being allowed to eat Mistress-food? She was so generous!

When the servant brought his food, it was of course in a pet feeding-bowl, but the contents smelled delicious. Rook didn't know what he had done to deserve such good food, but he was going to savor it. The servant set the bowl down on the floor in front of him, and once Evelyn also gave him permission (Being able to eat before Mistress was finished first, too? So generous! Rook even felt she might be spoiling him, but he wasn't going to question it.) he went from sitting back to all-fours hands-and-knees, and leaned his wolfy face to the bowl to eat from it without using hands, just like he should. He ate slowly, enjoying the wonderful gift, but not too slowly. And despite how it looked, he managed to eat and lick the bowl clean without getting a speck of food on his face--this was simply how he had always eaten, and he was adept at doing it without making a mess. Once he was done, he returned to his sitting position with a happy open-mouthed smile and brief canine-panting. "Thank you, Mistress Evelyn!" He said in an earnest voice, as he must always thank Mistress for every gift, and he really did appreciate this one. Mistress Evelyn had not been what he expected, she had been so overly kind and had lavished him with so much he didn't deserve already. He was determined more than ever to earn such generosity from his Mistress.

Once Evelyn bade her family good night and took his leash, he eagerly followed at her side again back to her room. He readily helped her undress and put her nightgown on her once she had picked it out, a very pretty purple one. It made a very nice contrast to her golden hair, which she began undoing ribbons from as she spoke to him of how exhausted she was. He perked up again, while it seemed likely she would not 'use' him tonight if she was tired, he couldn't wait to be her warm snuggle-toy for her to relax in! She then mentioned washing her face and brushing her hair, and Rook perked up even more, and spoke up this time. "Ooh! Pet can brush Mistress Evelyn's hair, yes! Pet is very good at brushing, can do it for Mistress Evelyn. Will you allow Pet to brush?" He offered quickly, looking at Evelyn with a very excited expression.

Once he did obtain permission and Evelyn finished washing her face, he had her sit in a reclined chair that ended with a neck-rest, just like she would if any other servant were to brush or comb her hair without doing it quickly while standing. Rook got every brush and comb he could find ready, gingerly gathered up Evelyn's curly golden locks in a hand to slide it all out behind her where he could access it, and got to work. He started with the largest brush, lightly pressed it at her scalp, and...very slowly...drew it back along the entire length of a section of her curly hair with the most gentle of tugs, using his free hand to gently press on the curls as the brush moved, to keep the tiny pressure as consistent as possible over the random thickening and thinning clusters of curls. He brought the brush back to her scalp...and repeated the long, slow stroke of the brush, moving it one inch at a time, so gently working it over her swirled tresses. Every time the brush encountered a tangle, he did not pull on it, but rather, softly worked the brush against the spot, coaxing the tangle to part gently. After a number of passes with the largest brush, enough for loose hair to stop gathering on it, he moved to a smaller, finer one, then to an even finer brush, then to a large comb, then to a fine-tooth comb. With each one, Evelyn felt the repeated scalp-caresses and gentle smoothing of her hair. It was very different from any time Evelyn had ever had her hair brushed by a servant. For them, it was a job, a task that needed to be done expeditiously. But very early on, it had to be clear that Rook was...taking his time with it. As if, instead of being a job for him, it was something he wanted to do, something he enjoyed, and prolonged as much as possible. So slow. So steady. So relaxing. Almost hypnotic...like a lullaby. In fact, if Evelyn even started drifting off, well, it would be far from the first time a woman had ended up dozing under the trained brushing and combing of Rook!

After more than half an hour, Rook set the final comb aside, cleaned the brushes of gathered hair, and gingerly prodded the princess' shoulder. "All done, Mistress Evelyn..." He whispered in a quiet and soothing voice. If Evelyn reached back to feel her hair...it quite possibly would feel the smoothest and silkiest she had ever known, every errant and loose hair gone, every tangle undone...she could press her fingers deep into the curly bush and run her fingers through the entire length without a single catch.