My Master (intersex x woman)

Chapter 3 - Run.

"Don't even start." She massaged the skin of her forehead. In her recent free time, she'd caught herself often wondering what exactly Annabelle had in store for her. Why was she here, in this room? It had been four days and besides their little run-ins, Annabelle hadn't touched her. Emily knew deep down the woman wanted her body, images flashed of the Queen in various positions with multiple women on Emily's first night in the castle.

So why did she delay the inevitable? Why did she have her cared for, given new clothes every day? It made no sense.

The young man chuckled. "I gotta tell you," he said between laughs. "I've been staring at a little ketchup stain on your face since I got here. I wasn't going to say anything but—"

Emily frowned at him. She'd had breakfast over an hour ago. Had she been sitting with food on her cheek for so long?

"Not funny." She deadpanned. "You're an asshole."

He stepped towards her, leaning forward to wipe the stain with his thumb.

"You're not as ugly as I initially thought." He joked.
"Yeah well, you aren't as handsome." She swatted him once he'd cleaned her face. "What's your name?"

"You can call me John." His hand found hers, lifting it to place a soft kiss against the back.

A gust of wind entered the room and Annabelle stood beside the servant.

"Get.the.fuck.out." she said, her jaw clenched, fangs already protruding. John wasted no time leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

The dark-haired woman turned to face Emily, her eyes glowing red. "You dare disrespect me, in my home?" She pinned the blonde against the soft bed.

"We were just talking! I've been locked up in here by myself for two days, I was just making conversation."

Emily felt angry, annoyed that the taller woman would even assumed she was doing something she shouldn't have been. All she did was follow orders. Eat, bathe, eat, bathe, stay here, go there, don't move—it was draining. She sighed, releasing the anger that threatened to spill disrespectful words aimed at her Queen.

She'd been treated well, considering what John said earlier. The young blonde was quite lucky to be in the position she was in, and thought it smart not to get on Annabelle's bad side.

The dark-haired woman lay atop her, hands on either side of her face. A fiery, unreadable expression stared right through Emily.

Annabelle dipped, placing a scorching kiss against her lips.

"Get dressed, meet me downstairs." She whispered. "And stop fraternising with the fucking help."

In a split second and a gust of wind, the Queen disappeared from the room.

Emily did as she was told, cleaned up and changed into one of the dresses the servant laid out on the large bed. Her hair was a mess of knots, and brushing didn't seem to help. Settling on a messy bun, she stared at herself in the standing mirror. The floral dress had strings atop the chest, when tied it made her breasts almost spill over the top. It made her wonder if Annabelle had picked out the dress for that exact reason.

Emily left the room, wandering around the hallways, hoping she would find her way down without assistance. Finally, she'd arrived on the first floor. A sense of pride washed over her; she wasn't as helpless as she'd thought. John stood in the foyer, his eyes looking everywhere but at her.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"It doesn't make sense to whisper, they can all hear us if they wanted to." He pointed out. "And I'm here because this is my job. I'm not being pampered or taken care of by my capturers, unlike some people."