Chapter Text
"She's your slave now," the priest repeated patiently, gesturing to the sullen woman kneeling before her. With dusty brown hair long enough to reach her navel and a svelte figure that her brown wraps clung to, the woman was beautiful. She also had something Sara couldn't ignore: a long, swishing cat tail, and the accompanying furry ears atop her head that twitched back and forth. Though her expression was blank, Sara could see by the way her tail flicked that she was anything but calm. The thin iron band encircling her neck glowed with runes, seeming to Sara's imagination to be a far greater weight than it should be.
"There must be some way to undo this," Sara insisted, not for the first time. "Take the wrist band off of me, or take the collar off of her."
"It is not possible," the priest said, also not for the first time. They were ten minutes into this conversation, and Sara was beginning to realize the inevitable. "The band has attached itself to your soul, and the collar to hers. Her punishment was to be owned by you, now and forever, and for saving the city, your reward was to be her owner."
"She doesn't deserve this," Sara pleaded. The girl's tail swished at the words, but she didn't dare speak. "She didn't know!"
"Her mother betrayed her city, her kingdom, and her people. To have lived and cared for such a traitor is a capital offense in more ways than the law can tally, but it was your request to the king that spared her life. If you really view this as so terrible a fate, then I am sorry. But fate it is."
With that the white-robbed priest swept out of the room, no longer interested in entertaining her retorts. Sara slumped on the pew, throwing her head back to stare up into the vaulted arches of the church.
It had been a month ago that she'd found herself in this strange world, embroiled in its politics from the moment she'd arrived. An army had been bearing down on the city she'd appeared in, evading each and every attack sent to defeat or delay its approach. When Sara had discovered that the traitor was one Marionne Eliah, Lady Mayor of the kingdom's capitol, she'd gathered a party and fought her way across the rooftops, finally defeating the traitor in the courtyard of the king's own mansion.
She hadn't known the Lord Mayor's daughter, an innocent girl her own age, would be punished for her mother's sins. When she'd seen the beautiful girl being marched up to the hangman's noose, she'd begged the king to spare her, knowing from her own investigation that the girl was ignorant of her mother's crimes.
And now this. Her "reward".
"You know," Sara said with a crackly voice, not looking down at the girl kneeling before her, "I saw you before all this. Through the window of your room, I saw you every night for two weeks. I was supposed to be watching your mother, finding evidence against her, but you were only two windows down. It was impossible to ignore you." The girl stayed silent, so Sara looked down and saw her remaining perfectly still. Remembering the priests instructions, Sara hissed in displeasure. "You may speak and move as you please."
The bracelet on her right wrist hummed almost imperceptibly, interpreting her intent and transmitting it to the girl's collar.
As soon as she was freed from her old command the girl sagged, dropping from a prim kneeling position to a splayed-leg slump. Her tail continued to flick. The tail and her ears were the only part of her that seemed immune to the collar's influence, something the priest had said was a 'problem' with feline slaves. They had no conscious control of their ears and tail, and so they could not be commanded to still them or otherwise. Watching the girl's tail twitch back and forth, she found herself relieved for the telltale symbol of her true feelings, no matter how slight it was. She resolved herself to learn the subtleties of the girl's body language, so she'd never mistake the collar's compulsions for genuine emotion.
They were both silent for a time. Sara was content to sit there as long as was needed, having been given free reign of the chapel by the priesthood following the 'bonding' ritual.
Finally, minutes later, there came a raspy voice. "Can... Can I have some water?"
Sara jumped forward, hurriedly unhooking a canteen from her belt to hand it to the girl. She reached up with a shaking hand, some of the water spilling down her chin as she drank. It soaked down her shirt. Sara turned away, guilt filling her once more at the girl's decrepit condition. It was horrifying what only a few days in the royal dungeons could do to a person.
After a final gulp, the girl set the canteen aside with a metallic clunk that echoed through the cathedral. "I'm..." She frowned. "My name is..." Her eyes widened in fright as she tried to force her mouth to make the name, failing every time. "My name. Why can't I say my name?"
Sara pursed her lips. "The priests said that slaves only have the name their masters give them. Your old name has been... erased. Even I can't remember it."
"Oh," she whispered, blinking sadly. "I can't remember it either. How ironic; I made a point to learn the name of all of Mother's slaves, yet I never realized I was learning a falsehood." With fresh water soothing her rasp the catgirl's distinguished enunciation was more pronounced, similar to the royal accents Sara had been familiar with in her own world. The now-nameless girl looked up at Sara. "What will my name be? I know I should have other concerns, other questions that take precedence, and I am grateful for all you said to the king and the priest, but... I don't like not having something to call myself."
Sara wiped a hand down her face, thinking. She chose her words carefully, to avoid accidentally giving the girl an order. "What do you think of the name Evie?"
"Evie?" She mulled the name over, softly repeating it to herself a few times. "I think it will do. I don't know how close it is to my old name, but I suppose no one knows that now, do they? Yes. I'm fine with that name."
Sara nodded slowly. "Alright. Your name is Evie."
As soon as the words left her lips the bracelet tingled, and she watched Evie close her eyes and shudder, a shiver running up her spine. She opened them a moment later, crystal blue meeting Sara's eyes with a smile that was a little bit less sad. "You're right. My name is Evie."
The absolute certainty, the conviction in her words, did something to Sara. She could tell that with a word she'd just changed something fundamental about Evie, so powerful was the enchantment that she doubted the brown-haired girl even realized it. Thinking quickly, speaking as soon as the idea occurred to her, she gave Evie a second command.
"My commands won't ever change who are, no matter how they are phrased. You will always be yourself, no matter what I order or demand of you."
Evie shuddered once more, though less so this time. Sara was profoundly grateful to feel the words take hold; she'd been told that the bond was both at its weakest and its strongest in the minutes after the ritual's completion, and that was when it was best to place the most altering of orders. It was still possible, unfortunately, to undo the commands later, but it took concerted and repeated effort.
Evie's smile widened, nearly as warm as a smile should be. "Thank you, Master." They both froze as soon as the title hit the open air. "Oh. I didn't realize that was true of every slave. I thought only Mother forced her slaves call her that."
"I didn't know either. Can you call me by my name at all?"
Evie straightened herself, sitting in a more comfortable position, with legs crossed. "I don't know. What is your name?"
"Sara," she said, mentally upbraiding herself for not introducing herself. Watching Evie through a window for two weeks had left her feeling like she knew the girl, but the same wasn't true in reverse.
"Thank you, M-- I mean, Sara. Thank you for treating me with respect."
"I didn't want this," Sara said immediately. "I hate that this happened to you. I'm sorry."
Evie gave her that same, sad smile, a kind sympathy shining through. "But now it has. Where will we be going next, Master?"
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Sara left the church in a hurry, Evie ghosting along behind her. The thin girl had a preternatural grace about her, an aspect of the feline within her ensuring she never lost her balance or misplaced a step. Sara didn't return the gracious nod of the High Priest that had bound her to Evie, nor did she acknowledge anyone that saw her blow out of the royal complex. In fact, she didn't say a word or meet a single person's eyes until she was back in her chambers of the Ghost Hall Inn, panting heavily as Evie closed the door behind them.
Sara sat down hard on the thick featherbed, cradling her head in her hands while impossible puzzles of morality ran rampant through her mind. The catgirl, oblivious to this internal battle, padded across the carpet softly, taking in Sara's royally-paid chambers with hands behind her back. Sara found herself following Evie's hips as she stepped, the tilt of her ass and the sweep of her curves drawing her eye to themselves as surely as a moth to a flame.
God, why did it have to be her? Anyone else, Sara was certain, and she could resist. There were obligations between Slave and Master, she'd been taught that, but with anyone else that's all they'd have been. Obligations. But her...?
Evie completed her tour of the room, turning back to Sara with a hand on her cocked hip. She didn't comment on the way Sara's eyes had roamed over her body, nor did she comment on the way that her attention stayed firmly on the catgirl's chest. Her breasts, like the rest of her exquisite body, seemed divinely-designed to break through Sara's barriers. A perfect handful each, perky and beautiful, everything that Sara liked in a partner.
"Shall we deal with the day's obligations now, Sara, or later?"
Sara licked her lips, considering. The 'obligations'. It was the only thing she'd thought of on the way over here, the only thing that had dominated her thoughts since she'd found out Evie would be her slave. Most had a choice of what their slave's daily task of devotion would be, but not her.
"Now, I suppose. Best to get it out of the way, right?" Sara grinned weakly, trying to turn it into a joke. Maybe it would help her clear her mind, make better decisions as they established the beginning of this "relationship".
"I understand."
Evie walked stiffly across the room to Sara, and the proximity had Sara gulping. She closed her eyes, deciding that it would be best for Evie to have total control over how the next few minutes preceded.
There was a creak as the bedding next to Sara dimpled, and then she felt the searing heat of another leg pressing up against her own. In her ear, at a tickling whisper, came Evie's voice.
"What would you like me to do, Sara?"
She shuddered. "Whatever makes you comfortable. I'm not going to order you to do something like this."
"If you insist," Evie whispered back, lips just grazing Sara's ear. For a brief moment, she thought she heard disappointment in Evie's voice, but she quickly discarded the notion as ridiculous. The girl was a slave, and Sara her owner.
Her Master.
Sara shivered, a tingle of arousal shooting down to her crotch. Her heartbeat grew loud in her chest, and she felt something hot begin to pulse in her core. Though her eyes remained shut, she could see in her mind's eye what was happening.
The expensive frilled dress that fell to her calf, scandalously short by the nobility's standards, would be moving. A bulge rising up, jumping with every beat of her heart as it grew. When she'd been brought to this world she'd been told her mission, then asked to choose a god to bestow her boon to her.
She'd chosen the goddess of relationships and love, whose gifts she'd imagined would best suit her for a diplomatic resolution of the wars she was to stop.
How wrong she'd been.
She felt the bed shift as Evie adjusted herself, a quiet gasp of shock not quite hidden from Sara's ears.
"You don't have to do this," Sara hurriedly said, despite the fact that it wasn't technically true. "You aren't the first girl who wasn't interested because of that."
"No, that wasn't my intention," Evie whispered kindly. "I was just surprised, that's all."
"Really, it's fine, I can just--"
Sara was cut off by her own gasp as a sudden pressure found the base of her cock, Evie's hand pressing down. She cut off her grunt by clenching her jaws, the moment for conversation having passed.
Through the thin fabric of her dress she felt Evie's nimble fingers free her cock from her underwear, leaving only the sheer lilac material between Evie's finger and her throbbing length.
Another gasp was pulled from Sara as Evie's hand slowly trailed up from her base, fingers wrapping around her shaft with the gentlest of touches. The bed creaked as Sara bent forward, trying to control her reactions.
Evie stroked back down, just as slowly, and the caution of it sent Sara's breaths into shudders. The goddess of love's blessing had done more than just give her a cock: it had made her more sensitive than she'd ever been in her previous life, and forced upon her a libido worthy of the goddess. It took all she had to not grab Evie's hand by the wrist and shove it under her dress, ordering her to start pumping away.
Thankfully she didn't have long to wait. As Evie's hand reached the tip once more, ghosting against the head, the torturous feeling disappeared. Sara let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, panting heavily, then clenched her entire body once more as Evie's hand reached under her clothes to return to her cock. As thin as the dress had been, it seemed a world of a difference when Evie grasped her cock with more confidence. The heat of her palm forced a mewling whine from Sara's lips, one that she had to stifle with a knuckle in her mouth.
Evie began to pump slowly, ever so slowly, as hesitant as any virgin could be expected to be. Sara balled a fist into the sheets behind her, panting openly, and tried to keep herself under control. Her hips twitched with every motion, desperate to find just a little bit more to push against.
Just before Sara's patience would have failed, Evie began to speed up, tightening her grip around Sara as she worked in steady motions. Sara threw her head back, unable to hide the long, low moan that spilled out.
Evie kept the pace up, pumping Sara's length again and again as her Master squirmed against the bed, trembling with desire and pleasure. Slowly, far too slowly, she sped up, pulling from Sara ever louder moans and gasps.
It was in this haze of pleasure that Sara noticed one gasp, a tiny keening that didn't come from herself. Before she thought better of it, she cracked open an eye, looking at Evie.
The slave-- her slave-- was watching her with lidded eyes, biting her lip to hold back her own moans. Sara glanced down at Evie's hips, which were thrusting into nothing, and came to a conclusion with absolute certainty.
Evie could feel her pleasure. Every squeeze, every pump, the virginal catgirl felt it too.
Recognizing that she was caught, Evie gave up on controlling herself. Her jaw dropped open in an open moan, an adorable little high-pitched thing that stutter-started with every pulse of Sara's cock. Her nipples were hard underneath her clothes, and Sara could smell the catgirl's arousal in the air, see the wet spot on the bed beneath her.
The sound of it, the sight of it, was too much. Sara doubled forward, clawing the sheets, and began to thrust into Evie's hand with all her strength. Every slap of her pelvis against Evie's clenched hand tore a guttural noise from her throat, one that only grew louder once Evie adapted to the new rhythm and began meeting her every thrust.
She could feel the pressure building within her, a tight ball of of hunger and desire that demanded it be sated. Sara kept thrusting, twisting in the sheets, and all the while she kept an eye on Evie, who was shaking as hard as she was.
Suddenly, even before Sara, Evie's back began to bend, knees turning inward as her keening peaked in a scream of pleasure. The spasm of her hand on Sara's cock was almost the final straw that sent her over the edge, but it just wasn't quite enough--
"Your mouth!" Sara found herself shouting.
The bracelet hummed. Evie bent double as if possessed, still shuddering, and took Sara in her mouth. Intoxicating, velvet heat surrounded her, a tongue running along the underside of her shaft as she finally, finally came undone.
Sara shoved Evie's head lower as she came, impaling herself on the still-moaning throat. With a final thrust of her hips Sara let out her own shout and began pulsing hot load after hot load into her slave's throat, muttering mindless obscenities as she was set ablaze by the fire of a body that was hers, hers, hers!
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Sara came to a short eternity later. Her cock lay limp, Evie's head resting on her thighs. Sara was hit by a whirlwind of emotions at the sight, profound guilt warring with perverse pleasure and a deep-set primal satisfaction. She shook her head, trying to clear her libido from her mind, and sat up.
Evie's eyes fluttered open, lidded and calm. Sara reached out and wiped a streak of white cum off her cheek, ignoring the twitch from below at the sight.
"I'm sorry. It shouldn't have gone like that."
Evie's head didn't lift from her legs. She just looked up at Sara, thinking. Sara mentally braced herself for the reprimands, the accusations, the terrified pleading to never do that again.
"It's okay," Evie said instead, tail lazily swiping through the air behind her. "That wasn't you, Sara. I still trust you."
Sara collapsed, shoulders slumping. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I really am. But with the blessing of the goddess, sometimes it just..."
"Like I said, Sara. It wasn't you."
Sara took a few minutes to breath, enjoying Evie's head in her lap. The catgirl scooted closer on the now disheveled bedsheets, curling up into a more comfortable position to use her lap as a pillow. Eventually, though, the city's bell tolled.
"Six o'clock," Sara noted idly.
"Mm?"
"The shops will be closing soon. If we want to get you decent clothes, not those rags, we'll have to go soon."
"I hadn't realize you intended to get me something to wear," Evie murmured. "Mother never did for her slaves."
"I am not your mother," Sara declared firmly. "I didn't want you to be my slave. I'm not going to treat you like one."
Evie's tail curled in, coiling on the woman's hip. Sara's eyes locked on, then skipped over, the wet patch that still showed between the catgirl's legs. Stretching, the catgirl yawned. "I know that you're not like her. You had her executed, after all."
Sara pursed her lips. "You say that awfully casually. That I had your mom killed."
"She deserved it," Evie stated simply. "She was an awful woman. I only came to know just how deep her evil ran at the trial, but nearly all my life I would have welcomed your actions with open arms."
Sara shook her head. "Getting thanked for killing someone's mother. That's a new one for me."
"How did the other girls react when you killed their mothers?"
Sara snorted. "So far you're the only one I've done that to. I'm hoping to keep it that way."
Evie yawned once more, then reluctantly sat up. "May I wash myself? The dungeons were not well stocked with bathing supplies."
"You may," Sara said, waving her towards the bathroom. To have to ask permission just to do something as simple as bathing was a life Sara could hardly imagine, but it was all Evie would know from now on. "Take all the time you need."
Evie smiled faintly, padding off. "Thank you, Master."
Sara reached for the clothes drawer, eager to change out of her formal wear, then froze.
"Master."
The word, oh so dangerous, had slipped out of Evie's mouth almost without either of them noticing.
Almost.