Chapter 14: In Which, Despite Being Able To Presumably Kill Princess Asperia At Will, I Feel Very Much Not In Control Of The Situation

We were lead down into what looked like some sort of, I don’t know, alchemist’s place or something– vials and bottles and stranger glass devices everywhere. On top of a couch, which was inside a circle with all sorts of intricate glyph engraved on the stone around it, lay Sasha.

She was, apparently, asleep.

Chapter 12: In Which I Am Sorry I Used The Metaphor Too Soon, This Time Literal Cards Are Hitting The Literal Table

The Royal Garden of Eusthyne, the place where those looking for admittance to the Night Court waited for their invitation. It was surprisingly unkempt, with plants growing all over the place in a lot of places, yet barren in other parts, stagnant pools of water filled with algae. We were dressed in black robes, which was the apparent custom of the Night Court to conceal identities, but Valentine still stood out thanks to her relatively huge size.

Chapter 10: In Which Master Gets Me All Riled Up, And We Bid Farewell To One Of Our Travelling Companions

I had fallen asleep, and woke up laid out on one of the carriage seats -- it was practically a couch on each side, really -- with my head in Master's lap. I could feel her cock hard against my cheek, and glanced up, but she was breathing easily... apparently asleep.

Chapter 8: In Which I Say Some Things That Were Perhaps Unwise To Think, Much Less Speak, But Am Eventually Shut Up With Master’s Assistance

Valentine was looking at me expectantly, waiting for her heals, and I couldn’t tell her I wasn’t running that spec, because– oh thank god, Master was coming over.

“Actually… could I heal you, Valentine, if you don’t mind? Sasha’s been teaching me a little healing magic, and I think I’m pretty decent, but the proof is in the ashes, as they say.” ...who the heck said that? I had to question some of this world’s idioms.

We set out after dressing Valentine in a large robe and mask. At the gate, one guard questioned it, but Master told her to remove her mask, and seeing what was beneath it, they immediately apologized and said she could put the mask back on… I assume Master was playing some visual trick on their mind.

It was morning, and I had just put my clothes on. Master had watched me the entire time with a languid smile, which didn’t make me exactly more comfortable when doing it, but given that she clicked her tongue at me when I tried to hide my body, I did my best not to actually cover myself up… although I did at least try to angle her at an angle that would be less revealing, since I doubt she’d figure that out just from the angle.

“Probably not, but you do remember I can hear your thoughts, right?” Fuck.

When I woke up, Master was gone. I sat up and looked around frantically— had she suddenly abandoned me? She wouldn’t, would she? What could I do in this world alone, powerless, and looked down upon?

I saw a note on the table. “Went out to get some info. Be a good girl.” I wondered if she was going to one of my informants, or had some I didn’t know about, and sighed a little as I realized my tail was wagging from the "be a good girl" part. Some part of me really liked being a girl, huh? ...but was that my own mind, or…?

Well, not much point in worrying about it.

DRIFTING INTO FEMDOM by Allexcited69
The story is a fabrication of my mind. All names, sites, venues, although they may seem familiar to you are fictional. Only the expression of human emotions, the hardship, the pleasures and frustrations are real. This is the story of a wannabee slave and his circuitous route from attorney into a new reality involving chastity, body worship, humiliation and a new station in life.
WARNING: DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC,
AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE
DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE