Bow. Properly in your underwear

Roxy’s grin sharpened, her LED-lit horns casting a faint glow as she stepped closer. The crowd buzzed, phones already raised to capture every second. She stopped directly in front of Alexia, close enough that the satin of their costumes brushed together.

"First command?" Roxy purred, her voice low and teasing. "Bow. Properly in your underwear."

Alexia's breath hitched, her gloved fingers tightening in the layers of her pink gown. The crown suddenly felt heavier. "W-what do you mean?" she whispered, voice cracking just enough for Roxy's smirk to deepen.

The convention hall lights glinted off Roxy’s spiked choker as she leaned in, her LED horns casting a faint red glow across Alexia’s flustered face. "You heard me, Peach." Her gloved fingertip tapped the jeweled brooch at Alexia’s collarbone. "Servant rules. Lose the dress. Bow in your royal underwear."

Alexia’s pulse thundered in her ears as the crowd’s murmurs swelled around them. The satin gloves suddenly felt stifling, her breath shallow beneath the boned corset of the gown. Roxy’s smirk didn’t waver—she even cocked a hip, one spiked boot tapping impatiently.

With trembling fingers, Alexia reached behind her back, fumbling for the hidden zipper beneath the gown’s lace-trimmed collar. The fabric parted with a whisper, cool air rushing over her shoulders as the dress pooled at her feet in a rose-pink puddle.

The crowd erupted in whistles and applause as the dress slipped away, leaving Alexia standing in nothing but her lacy pink bra, matching panties, and the pristine white stockings clipped to her garter belt. The crown wobbled slightly as she swallowed hard, her bare shoulders prickling under the convention hall’s fluorescent lights. Roxy’s gaze raked over her, slow and deliberate, before she twirled a finger in the air.

"Now bow," Roxy commanded, tilting her chin up. "Like a real servant would for their queen."

Alexia’s knees trembled as she lowered herself into a deep curtsy, the cold convention floor biting through her stockings. The crowd’s laughter and camera clicks buzzed around her like static, her gloved hands pressed flat against her thighs to keep them from shaking.

Roxy’s spiked boot tapped the ground inches from Alexia’s face. "Deeper," she purred, leaning down to flick the crown’s largest jewel with a painted claw. "A real princess wouldn’t half-ass it."

Alexia’s breath shuddered as she pressed her forehead nearly to the floor, the crown tipping precariously forward. The lace of her bra strained against the movement, her stockings whispering against the polished convention floor. Roxy’s shadow loomed over her, the spikes of her boots gleaming under the harsh lights.

"Good girl," Roxy murmured, her voice thick with amusement. She crouched, her gloved fingers catching Alexia’s chin, forcing her to meet her gaze. The LED horns bathed Alexia’s face in crimson. "But a servant doesn’t just bow—they ask how to serve."