The Princess and Her Seamstress

This was okay though; she knew that Sol could handle it. Or at least, she better handle it.

Soon, a series of sputtering gags erupted from Sol as her throat was prodded again and again, more and more forceful with every passing motion. It was adorable to see the Princess treated like this and Abagail knew for a fact she must've been soaking her panties.

"Fuck," Abagail hissed.

She could feel that there was a fire taking root inside of her, kindling away with a fresh vigour. It was warm, pleasant, and lustful. This was an omnipresent reality at this point as she felt herself starting to succumb to the treatment.

Still, she continued to glide Sol along, not letting up no matter how much her partner gagged and sputtered against her pride. The Princess seemed to be in a sorry state, choking upon her cock with tears glistening in her eyes but she didn't resist in the slightest.

Though Abagail couldn't help but savour this state, loving the debasement. There was just something so powerful about the sounds and sensations of Sol's misery as she got more and more desperate with her tongue work.

Oh, how divine she would've looked with a layer of cheap mascara mixed into her tears. Though not every engagement could be quite that perfect.

"Cheap whore," Abagail growled. "Only good for sucking my cock and being a pair of warm holes to bury myself into at the end of the day. It's a shame that people look to you for guidance when all you're suited for is being a toy to do with as I please."

The words landed and Abagail couldn't help but smile as she saw the wonderful shade of red that had come to dominate Sol's cheeks. It was so nice to see her in the grasp of lust, shivering before her on the floor. She struggled to look up, her gaze falling away from Abagail's face and dropping down to her belly where it lingered.

As Sol continued with her routine, there was little that Abagail could do at this point to halt the impending pleasure. Her core was already taxed and it didn't seem like she would be keeping up her vigour for much longer.

"I'm getting close," Abagail whispered.

The mounting pleasure had snuck up on her as she was now teetering on the brink, mere moments away from plunging into such pleasurable waters.

Sol continued back and forth, back and forth, seeming to not care about such warnings. This was a slut on a mission. Her actions only added to Abagail's pleasure as it rose to more and more of a fevered pitch.

Then, as the Princess slammed back down to the base of Abagail's cock, she couldn't hope to deny herself a moment longer. Her voice rose and she cried out, gasping as her form became a nexus for such intense pleasure.

And just like that, she tumbled over the edge and plunged into bliss, shivering as her body rode through the motions. Her cock twitched between Sol's lips and she could feel that a strand of potent cum erupted from the tip and coated the inside of her beloved's mouth.

Sadly, hormones were not a kind companion in this regard, ensuring that only a single spurt came forth to end this encounter.

She drew back and rustled Sol's hair, offering a kind smile. "See, I knew you could do better."

Sol gasped for breath, hiccupping as she tried to blink through the shroud of sex in her eyes. She simply nodded as her gaze settled upon the floor.

"Thank you," Sol whispered. "I'm glad that I can please my Mistress."

Abagail allowed her cock to linger there as it was now covered in a sheen of all sorts of perverse fluids. A droplet of something fat and white fell from the tip and landed upon the floor below.

"Well, are you going to leave me filthy, you dumb bitch?" Abagail asked, sounding quite terse.

Sol turned out to possess enough intelligence to understand that it was a bad idea to leave her Mistress in such a state. She leaned forwards and took Abagail's limp cock between her lips, rolling her tongue around it and suckling it clean. It took only a couple dutiful seconds before she drew back once more, revealing a phallus that was practically sparkling clean.

"A passable performance," Abagail grumbled.

She reached down and ran a hand through Sol's hair, scratching her behind the ear.

"You loved it," Sol teased, grinning at her.

Abagail hummed. "Is that so?"

"You only ever praise me if I've done a really good job," Sol replied, sticking out her tongue. "And 'passable performance' seems oddly close to an actual compliment."

Abagail snorted but couldn't deny that this was the truth. The performance had been amongst Sol's best and she was growing dangerously good at ushering forth her orgasm.

Sol drew in a breath and tried to compose herself, running a pair of hands down her face to try and return to whatever status quo she'd been in. It was adorable to see how quickly she could go from a cock hungry animal to something approaching a sentient being.

"So is Her Highness destressed enough to continue with her day's work or does she need more of my expert care to whisk away her worries?" Abagail asked.

Though she already knew the answer as she moved away from her beloved and started to shed her attire, doing away with her pants and expensive blouse. She had a full-bodied figure with plenty of cushion in all of the right places. It was also a body which seemed to captivate her companion who couldn't help but stare at her in awe.

"How am I this lucky?" Sol whispered.

Abagail smirked. "Shouldn't a monarch only have the best?"

"I mean sure but it's hard to..." Sol giggled and shook her head. "It's bold of me to assume that I'm entitled to something as divine in nature as yourself."

Abagail couldn't help but blush at the compliment. "D-dork."

"Your beauty alone is enough to turn me into a poet," Sol teased.

Abagail lingered in the middle of the room for a moment, surveying her surroundings. She knew the tools she had at her disposal and it was now time to put them together into some sort of routine to really help Sol with her not-so-little worries.

Sol watched her, cocking her head to the side and bearing a coy little smile. They'd been together long enough that she was very much aware of their games and obviously knew that it was best just to wait patiently for them to unfold.

Abagail decided to walk over the chamber's little living space and grab one of the ornate chairs that surrounded an equally ornate coffee table. She dragged it over to the centre of the room. It was a sturdy piece of furniture made of an impressive wood. The chair was cushioned and comfortable, but most importantly, had two sturdy armrests that wouldn't budge under any kind of duress.

Sol smirked but continued to sit there, being a good little pet and waiting to be called upon when needed. She did however start to remove her clothes, doing away with the elegant garb she'd been wearing.

Her body was more slender than Abagail's own, though not quite venturing into the realm of thin. She had soft skin, impossibly blemish free. This was really a member of nobility, a caste that had no room for even the smallest of imperfections, not so much as a pimple or a scar.

It was eerie in a way though Abagail did not voice this.

"Sit," Abagail dictated.

Sol obeyed, getting to her feet and making her way over. She settled into the seat as if it were a throne, striking quite the domineer posture. It was clear that her royal dignity had fully recovered from the blowjob. Though this was no big deal as it just meant that there would be a fresh opportunity to shatter her persona once again.

Abagail knew this royal suite well as she moved over to a brick wall with a few ancient light fixtures upon it. She tugged on one and suddenly a section of wall pulled away, revealing what had once been an escape tunnel. Though it now acted as a storage locker of sorts, protecting a few modern looking boxes.

She opened one and saw Her Majesty's collection of depraved trinkets and toys.

"How do you acquire these?" Abagail asked.

Sol smirked. "The same way that everyone does; by ordering them from the internet."

"You willingly link your name to these?" Abagail whispered, cocking a brow.

"No of course not, I have them forwarded to a discrete post office box that's under an alias and have a trusted chambermaid pick them up. She hides this secret and in exchange I allow her to use the same box for her own discretionary habits," Sol explained, winking at Abagail. "Did you know that you can order hard drugs from the internet these days."

"Bullshit," Abagail whispered.

"It's true!" Sol beamed. "I just googled 'buy shrooms online' and I got like five websites right off the bat."

"There's no way those are legit," Abagail grumbled.

Sol shrugged. "Open the box buried at the very back then."

Abagail noticed such a box tucked away, hidden even more amongst the stuff that was already contained inside a secret chamber. It wasn't very large and was made of a high-quality cardboard that was coated in a shiny paper. She flipped it open and whistled, knowing that Her Majesty had not been lying.

"All this from the internet?" she asked, glancing over his shoulder.

Sol nodded. "Maybe I'll let you partake if you do well tonight."

Abagail looked away and rolled her eyes. She didn't need an incentive to do her job well.

Instead, she started to gather together the supplies that she would need for this afternoon's affairs. They weren't the most daunting of tools, mostly consisting of various lengths of hemp rope. Though she also grabbed a couple pieces of leather and latex. Along with a Hitachi Magic Wand that would get the Princess off nicely.

"Are you ready?" Abagail asked.

"I am," Sol replied, offering a smile.

Her Majesty enjoyed the mystique that went into her beloved's performances. There was something so tantalizing about being left in the dark, utterly clueless about what was going to unfold. After all, there was no fun in engaging with a narrative if you knew how it was going to end.

No one likes spoilers...

Abagail ensured that she came out with a cardboard box in her hands, further obscuring her collection of toys and tools.

A certain energy started to collect within Sol's core, an intrigue that took on the form of pleasure. Her mind started to lay out scenarios, plans, philosophies, wondering which of them would be correct. She daydreamed about being beaten, being choked, being tormented in all sorts of strange and unique ways.

She bit her lip as these scenarios started to play out within her mind, each more tantalizing and depraved than the last.

Her mind was good at wandering, one of the many reasons that it was often occupied with such evil little thoughts that made it hard to endure her day-to-day life. This was a mind that could lay out so many sexual scenarios but was also seasoned at fretting over how diplomacy and politics would fall apart around her. It was a brain geared towards both creativity and anxiety.

Though before her mind could switch from the creative side to the anxious side, Abagail saved her by plopping down the box at her feet. The sound of it thudding upon the ground was enough to make Sol stiffen, sending a tingling warmth crawling up her spine.

She did so love the depraved, even more so when it was from someone this skilled at the helm.

"Your mind was starting to wander," Abagail chastised.

There was a look in her eye that was mischievous and daring, tantalizing in its designs.

"It was," Sol admitted. "Hard not to let it wander when there are so many fun little scenarios for us to engage in. You have a way of... keeping things fresh which makes it fun to fantasize about." She closed her eyes and smiled. "Would you like to hear about the fantasy currently occupying my thoughts?"

She wasn't surprised when she felt a smooth hemp fibre against her wrist, looping casually around it again and again. It wasn't tight, yet, but she knew that it would be soon enough.

"Sure," Abagail said.

Sol nodded, drawing in a breath as the bondage was finally tightened, pinning her arm firmly to the sturdy wood of the chair. It wouldn't budge, no matter how hard she tried to rid herself of it.

"I'm thinking about you pulling a bag over my head," she declared, humming. "You know that I am a total freak when it comes to breathplay."

"As you've made me abundantly aware," Abagail teased.

Sol opened an eye and watched her beloved move over to the other arm, using more hemp rope to firmly bind her to the chair. This was the point where she knew she had lost control and where she became completely dependent on her lover's touch.

"And then you allow me to suffocate as you eat me out," Sol declared, winking at her. "Maybe push it just a smidge too far and delve into the world of somnophilia."

"Ah yes, regicide via erotic asphyxiation, I'm sure that would go over smashingly with the general populace," Abagail teased before shaking her head. "Sorry, I'm being a brat and denying you a chance to properly articulate your completely deranged fetishes."

Sol smirked and let out a faux sigh of dismay. "I'm used to it by now." She then cleared her throat. "Anyways while I'm unconscious, I would then expect a video to be taken of me being defiled by yourself and an assortment of guards and servants."

"You are a very demanding submissive," Abagail chided.

She started to coil another strand of rope around Sol's midsection, tying a series of loose knots around her stomach and torso, binding both of them to the chair. They weren't tight but they got the job done, ensuring that she would have no choice but to stay put as requested.

"You have to admit that my fantasies are appealing," Sol said. "Right?"

Abagail nodded. "They do have a certain enticing quality to them, I'll admit. Though they do require me to exceed my comfort zone and also require me to find several palace staff who would be willing to fuck you while you're unconscious." She snorted. "Which I don't think I really need to explain how poorly that would go over."

"That would be..." Sol sighed. "A rather difficult barrier to cross."

"Practically impossible," Abagail corrected.

She now knelt before the Princess and started to bind her legs to those of the chair. Like with her arms these binds were tight and restrictive, ensuring that it would be rather difficult to slip free without assistance.

And as that final knot was finally secured in place, Sol couldn't help but feel another pleasant tingle start to crawl up her spine. She shivered and bit her lips, unable to stop her mind from falling into the gutter. In this position she felt helpless, as weak as a baby.

A situation that Abagail was clearly well aware of as she drew away, having the smile and demeanour of a predator who was about to toy with its prey.

"Thankfully, I do have something in mind for you that I promise you'll enjoy," she said.

Abagail stood up and reached out, placing a hand upon Sol's cheek. She offered a tender smile and then dipped forwards, kissing her upon the forehead.

Sol's cheeks warmed at the gesture. It was strange but the tender moments were just as euphoric and passionate as the intensity of their lovemaking. It wasn't a dynamic she was used to in the slightest, not a comfort she had grown familiar with, no matter how often they made love.

"Are you ready?" Abagail asked.

Sol nodded.

Abagail reached into her box and grabbed a shiny black blindfold. With care, she pulled it over her beloved's eyes, denying her even a hint of light as she secured it in place with some buckles and straps in the back.

Sol couldn't see anything as her vision turned into nothing more than a raw blackness.

Still, she could hear Abagail move, heading back towards her little box of trinkets and tools. She drew something else out and moved to Sol's side. Soon, she could feel something metal placed underneath her hand.

It was a baton.

"Your safeword," Abagail explained. "Drop that and I'll free you as quickly as I can."

Sol nodded and drew in a breath. "Will I not be able to speak?"

The answer came soon enough as she felt a bar of silicon pressed against her lips. She didn't need to be told otherwise as she opened her mouth. It tasted sterile and clean, being just wide enough to keep her mouth open. Abagail tightened it in the back and it wasn't long before drool started to seep forth.

Sol must've been quite the sight to behold: bound, blinded, and now gagged, looking like the pathetic little creature that she knew she was.

"Not too tight? Not too painful?" Abagail asked.

Sol shook her head and tried to make an affirmative noise though it came out as nothing more than an incoherent syllable from around her gag.

Abagail snorted. "God, you really are such a pathetic creature." She reached out, collecting a nice dollop of saliva upon her fingers and rubbing it into Sol's complexion. "Imagine what all of those useless nobles would think if they saw you like this."

She withdrew her hand but for only a moment before she slapped Sol right across the face. The blow wasn't sharp but the action alone was humiliating in its own right. And that humiliation was the pain, burning with a shame that just felt...

Well, it felt kind of nice actually.

It was hard to explain the specific cocktail of chemicals that toyed with Sol's mind. Still, it was nice to be put into such a submissive position. A queen had many worries but what worries did a mere toy have to contend with. All a toy had to worry about is if it was useful to the person using it. A toy just needed to be warm and clean.

A toy was such a carefree thing to be and, in that moment, Sol thought of herself as merely a toy.

Abagail then ducked away, returning to her box. She lingered there for only a moment before coming back up and using her hand to brush Sol's hair out of the way, exposing her ears.

What was this...

She felt two solid objects clamp down upon the side of her head. They were sturdy and most importantly seemed to rob her of all surrounding sound. Sol couldn't hear a thing besides for the beating of her own heart. Though a moment later, a soft melody was played over a pair of speakers built into the object. It was a soft song, happy in its melody.

Still the song denied her another sense. Now with both vision and hearing gone, Sol was adrift, reliant upon so few remaining senses. Her taste was dominated by the silicon bit, her scent occupied by the same material, meaning that both were equally unreliable.

Touch was maybe the last sensation she could focus on with some degree of reliability. It wasn't perfect as the fibre of the rope was the main thing she felt. Still, she could sense movement as Abagail moved around her. Though the woman weaved back and forth, seemingly at random, making it rather difficult to accurately focus in upon her location.

Until finally, even this failed her when she thought Abagail was to her left only for her to prod her from the right, touching one of her more ticklish spots and causing her to snicker against the gag.

The loss of senses was enticing in its own right, tantalizing even. It made her feel even more disconnected from the world at large, further adrift in a dark sea of strange vibes.

Her world was disconnected, hard to piece together as she desperately tried to sense her lover. It was isolating as she tried her best to grasp onto anything outside of her immediate surroundings.

Still, there was no hope at trusting touch any longer. Her only option was to succumb to the darkness and become one with it, surrendering her psyche to this lack of external sensations.

Sol soon felt something press against her lower lips. A moment later, it started to vibrate against them. It was a tame sort of pleasure, manageable though she could feel herself moaning against the gag, spittle flying from the bar crammed between her teeth.