Doll In Waiting Pt. 01

Chapter 1 - On the Brink,

Perrine sighed as she stared at the displayed starscape on her cabin wall. The Second Daughter of the House Du Maurier had long since abandoned any notion that the inner worlds would ever hold anything for her, other than a life of droll servitude. Hopefully this ship would carry her into a life free from the expectations her family forced upon her. She wasn't going to be a demure submissive lady-in-waiting for another great house. No, Perrine would not be reduced to a bargaining chip in her family's political machinations.

She had other ideas.

She flopped onto the bed with a gentle sigh, contemplating how things had led her to this plan.

Anika, and her damned parents.

In her younger years, Perrine had grown a reputation for her independence and desire for adventure. Friendships with the maids. A penchant for pranking. Vanishing, one day, into the twilight and returning the next morning with a mischievous smile and dirt under her nails.

Sadly, this did nothing but increase the interest of a certain Princess Anika... A young woman who never learned the word no, who could buy a starship on a whim, and whose every wish was made fact.

'How could I have possibly known that wanting more than a damned dress would ruin my chance to pursue a life worth living?' Perrine mused grimly.

Rocking up to a seated position Perrine hugged one knee and stared across at herself in the tall triptyque mirror arranged across the quarters, her hair was longer than it had ever been before, and it disgusted her.

Perrine's father had smiled as bouquets of flowers and hand written cards arrived, for he knew the power that they would curry. In turn Perrine fled further into her desires for adventure, taking to anything that could pull her away from her expected courtly existence.

She took up ship piloting against the protests of her mother. She began to study fencing, and she begged to join the royal guard, all to the utter dismay of her family. They refused where possible or bent just enough to keep the young woman under control. This continued, each year, an ongoing war between them.

Through a twist of fate she was allowed a modicum of freedom in her activities, as her wild and adventurous nature only seemed to fascinate the Princess, who often called the other young woman to court to hear her tell tales of adventure or witness one of her daring exploits.

This became the price of freedom, which Perrine begrudgingly paid. Perrine knew though that she would not be able to avoid the Princess when she finished her final year of schooling. Anika wanted an entertaining lady-in-waiting, and she knew she finally found her.

Her desire to flee grew with each passing day on this damnably long trek around the solar system. Her cabin felt like a prison, her clothes manacles, and her social status a constricting burden. With every day that they drew closer to her planned point of escape, she felt more like a caged animal.

Perrine's plan relied on being able to leave the Sol system. Luckily, her graduation coincided quite closely with the launching of a new wave of colony ships bound for deep space. A perfect opportunity for escape, which was why she intended to be aboard one when their immense drive launched it out into the freedom of the frontier.

This, of course, was provided that she had a plan to get aboard a colony ship.

To the Du Mauriers' surprise during her final year of schooling, the young woman suddenly took tirelessly to her studies and no longer objected to her expected duties as a royal.

All according to her plan.

She guarded her hopes, only mentioning a desire to tour the solar system after graduating with flying colors. She talked of Venuitian jungles and Martian mountains, but she never once mentioned the colony fleet being formed around Jupiter.

Her parents acquiesced: she deserved this tour, a final adventurous gesture before her true purpose in life became reality.

There was however a caveat; she must take Lucienne, her firm and rather droll tutoress with her. Perrine resolved that while this wasn't an unexpected setback, she would be forced to put on her charade even longer.

It all led to now, alternating between pacing and staring idly at a large, wall-mounted display, the way one might have once stared out of a porthole. Through the enhanced optics of the ship she could see her destination looming in the display, the lustrous blue pearl of Neptune ensconced in a halo of faintly glittering rings.

Her feet itched and she leapt to her feet to pace again, feeling trapped inside the luxurious cabin of the starliner. She wanted anything but to be here, yet this would be her only chance to escape her awful future.

Perrine eyed the outfit that Luciene laid out for her earlier that day. It was everything she wished to flee: lace adornments and fine gold embroidery, black silk and a silhouette only a stiff stay could achieve.

Cursed garments.

Stays were abhorrent, in Perrine's humble opinion, as they limited her range of motion and made high intensity activity annoying at the best of times. Having to work around a stiff, shaping undergarment had quickly become another hellish nightmare in her daily court life.

Her watch pulsed gently on her wrist reminding her that her evening engagement could not wait. She sighed, swiping the notification off the small screen and began to dress herself in her bonds.

•𝄋•

A soft chime pinged from the front of her cabin.

"Come in."

The door retracted with a gentle hiss as Lucienne entered.

"Oh, good you're dressed," Lucienne observed as she crossed the cabin to begin examining the tall, young woman's form. "I was worried I would find you buried in one of your games, again."

"Well, I have been trying to cut back a bit on all that, since it isn't particularly becoming of a lady my age."

"Yes, it really isn't. Though I find myself surprised to admit that you've finally started to come to terms with that. When I first began working for your family I never thought I'd see you out of britches," Lucienne commented as she guided Perrine to the vanity and began to style her hair.

"I know, but that was something that was never going to last. Maybe it was the last vestiges of my boyhood tainting my behavior, but now I truly believe that I am able to conduct myself as a proper Lady, Lucienne."

The tutoress smiled softly as she worked the young woman's hair up into a braided pouf, which slowly climbed higher on Perrine's head.

Perrine despised the feeling of her hair being tugged tightly into the fancy styles expected of her status. They always left her feeling like her brain had been tied in a knot.

Many extensions and a few well placed toques later, her hair had taken shape into what would be called a rather fashionable display... by Lucienne at least. The crowning moment came when the tutoress flicked a switch concealed in a bow. Many strands of thin, fiber-optic thread woven into the hairdo glimmered to life with a gentle pulsing glow which shifted between vibrant purples and soft pinks.

"I think I may have outdone myself this time," said Lucienne delightedly as she applied a few finishing adjustments.

"Yes. You, uhm... Certainly seem to have," said Perrine haltingly, trying to conceal her annoyance. After a few final touches she was deemed acceptable for public consumption and ushered from the cabin by Lucienne.

Upper class passengers always dined in a provincially sized dining room on the uppermost deck of the grand starliner, hosted by the captain and a swarm of servers attending to the needs of their precious cargo. Perrine did her best to entertain, but her thoughts were distant at best, not that anybody noticed amid the festivities, as her reputation for being a lively and adventurous woman hadn't made its way here, thankfully.

Later that night, she sat on the edge of her bed, contemplating the vast emptiness of space visible through the wall display. Her face was illuminated only by a tablet as she wrote what hopefully would be her final letter to her parents,

"Dearest father and mother,

I know this letter will not find you in good tidings, which will most certainly be because of what I have done. I leave you no recourse against my actions, since we will never see each other again, but I must admit that at some level I wish I could relish the expression upon your face as you receive news of my disappearance..."

When they made landfall at the massive station Poseidon's Trove she planned to send the letter before slipping away.

Chapter 2 - A Visual Gothic Sacking of Perrine Du Maurier

Governess Daphne of Mars watched the feeds coming in on the myriad monitors arrayed around the combat information center of the IMF Androktasiai.

The team she had assembled over the last three months began to move into position. Each member looked like an unkempt drifter. They all appeared grimy, poorly dressed and haggard, but regardless of this outward appearance they were all consummate experts in their respective, unsavory fields of work.

"Now gentlemen, it's time to watch this beautiful dance unfold," Daphne remarked as she took her seat in a throne-like command chair as she crossed her bodysuit encased legs. Balancing one of her feet atop the point of her heel, she gently rocked it back and forth like a pianist's metronome.

Each operative moved like a perfectly timed piece of machinery once they received the good news that their target would be arriving soon. With their well-gathered intel, the team knew exactly where the runaway young heiress was going. Every piece of information they needed on Perrine Du Maurier was Perrineilable.

In trusting her contact in Posiedon's Trove, the young woman had made a terrible mistake. She assumed that the person she told about her plans, an enterprising Jovian, would keep her secret for the large bribe she offered them. They instead happily sold her down the river to Daphne's sources for a substantial profit.

The abduction began like a well-orchestrated stage play, exactly as Daphne had fantasized many times in the past few weeks.

As the Governess watched her fantasy become reality, the arousal began to build. She hit a steady simmer as the young heiress appeared walking past an unobtrusive lookout camera feed, her captivating honey brown eyes called to Daphne again.

The hapless young woman advanced towards Daphne's trap completely unaware of her jeopardy. The Governess found herself having to actively resist a desire to grind the palm of her hand somewhere most unladylike. But she contained herself nonetheless.

'I have waited so long for this, I can wait just a little longer,' Daphne bargained with herself.

She forced her hands back to the center of her lap, lest some of her officers see her public impropriety. The irony of this struggle to contain her lust struck Daphne as quite humorous. Since the act of abducting a royal, albeit a minor one, was magnitudes more heinous than any of her current desires. Daphne mused about the insane duality of court life, whilst trying to resist the hungering flame in her groin.

As Daphne watched the shifting perspectives on the different video feeds, she was elated to see the young Du Maurier walking down a winding grungy service corridor.

The trap was sprung.

Wyvern, his stocky frame draped in a haggard, brown peacoat, closed the gap from where he was following the young woman and hooked a burly arm around her neck. At the same moment, Viper slithered out into the corridor from a recess just ahead of them, catching the young lady's attention so her accomplice's movement would go unnoticed.

Wyvern tried to choke the young woman tightly with the inside of his elbow, his opposite hand squeezing her head from behind. To Daphne's surprise, the young lady immediately attempted to hip toss the larger man. She started cantilevering him over her hip, but Wyvern countered, wrapping his legs tightly around her.

Locked together, they fell forward with her throw onto the ground. The large man maintained his grip.To the governess's amusement, the young lady continued to struggle against the prison of Wyvern's vice-like thighs.

Perrine brought the fight back to a level footing with a charged stun ring, jolting Wyvern loose. However, it was too late; Viper grabbed her from behind, pulling the kneeling woman back against her.

The operator then delivered a potent bite, her modified fangs injecting a specially formulated cocktail into the young woman's neck. The drug had been custom-tailored to Perrine's physiology using stolen copies of the young woman's medical records.

"Oh, how cruel to think that I should not be the first to taste her," Daphne said with a mock pout.

Perrine slackened as the sedative took hold. She was unconscious in seconds.

Daphne licked her lips, allowing herself a gentle oscillation of her mons against the chair beneath her. The sadistic pleasure of watching the helpless girl fall into her trap was pushing her closer to open depravity with each passing second.

The two hired mercs bodily lifted the young woman through a nearby service door, out of sight of Daphne's current feed. She reflexively glanced over to another display which showed the approaches to this corridor.

They were extremely lucky; not a single person had entered the corridor during the thirty seconds it took them to abduct their target. Daphne hadn't wanted to pay extra for Mastiff's overwatch contract, as cleaner services greatly increased both his cost and the likelihood of an interplanetary incident.

A smile crept its way across Daphne's normally sanguine visage. The riskiest portion of the abduction was over.

Wyvern and Viper stepped out into a service area beyond the door. They were met by Orbweaver, a small, disarmingly innocent-looking woman clad in a cyan service jumpsuit with her blonde hair pulled into a sloppy bun. She glanced up from scrolling through her persocom as they burst in and swiftly grabbed a collapsible table leaning against an opened power conduit beside her.

The mercs deposited the unconscious young heiress onto Orbweaver's deployed table. Orbweaver started quickly slicing the girl's clothing off with medical shears. The other two hastily started undressing, grabbing matching, branded cyan service jumpsuits from a toolbag.

Orbweaver stripped the young woman naked in less than a minute. She moved with the efficiency of a poacher cleaning their ill-gotten game.

She snuggly seated a pair of oxygen tubes into the young woman's nose, fitting a silicone breathing mask over the top, sealing them in.

Next came support gear, as she carefully inserted a peripheral venous catheter into the young lady's arm, allowing for the convenient delivery of additional sedatives to keep her prey completely unconscious, enabling easy handling on delivery.

This was accompanied by diagnostic gear including: a pulse oximeter, blood pressure cuff, a rapid deploying electrocardiogram nano-harness, and other medical accoutrements, all spread across the young lady's body.

Orbweaver carefully lifted her into the bottom half of a casket-like carrying case. Its exterior matched a power component commonly used in places like Poseidon's Trove.

The clear, soft, silicone-like internals gently shifted to form a perfect cradle for its precious cargo. Hardly even slowing her clockwork-precise processing, Orbweaver carefully connected all of the diagnostic equipment to the onboard air supplies, IV lead, and medical computer.

Orbweaver fitted the second half of the case over the young woman, completing her packaging. With a gentle hiss, the young lady was now sealed from all sides in soft nanomaterial.

It quickly vacuum-formed to her helpless body, ensuring no shocks, drops, or other such hazards would damage Daphne's precious cargo.

In the meantime, the other two members finished their costume change. Wyvern took out a small TIG welder and began to quickly erase the seam marking the carrying case as fake. A crab-like robot brushed away slag from the fresh weld and coated it in a layer of grime that matched the rest of the false power terminals' worn exterior. The process had an added benefit, in that it also sealed the entire container against hard vacuum and made it almost entirely resistant to scanning.

The case looked exactly like a broken power terminal now. To add to the absurd management of risk, Daphne had also paid Orbweaver to replace every single identifying piece of information on the existing power unit, matching it to the supposed replacement.

Only an expert material analysis of the molecular makeup of the original would be able prove anything was amiss. The Governess knew it was an absurd request, but she really didn't like loose ends.

Daphne's faint smile shifted into a serpentine grin as, less than twenty minutes later, the package containing her sedated property rested safely in Poseidon's Troves' waste ejection system. Nobody would ever suspect that The House of Du Maurier's Second Daughter got smuggled out with the trash.