The servant's quarters

As you followed the Princess down the winding corridors, the stone walls seemed to close in around you, each step echoing with the trepidation of your new reality. You were glad that she was allowing you to walk now, holding your own metal lead in your hands to prevent it trailing on the floor.

The Princess stopped abruptly, turning to face you with the familiarly wicked glint in her eyes.

"You will need more training before you can properly serve me," she said, regally gesturing towards a door that led to the servants' quarters. Without waiting for a response, she pushed it open, revealing a small group of attendants - some in the matronly uniform that attended you during the bath, others in elaborately frilly maid outfits. One pair sat whispering arm and arm on a bed, displaying a scandalous level of familiarity, while another gazed at herself in the mirror as she stood naked wearing nothing but a collar. None were men.

You began to think your theory about the servants here was true.

"Come," the Princess commanded, stepping into the room. You hesitated, but the firm look she gave you was enough to compel obedience. Stepping behind her, you felt the eyes of the servants upon you, their gazes a mix of curiosity and excitement.

She led you to a small alcove, where an outfit folded on a bench. "Put this on," the Princess ordered, gesturing towards the clothing. Your hands trembled as you reached out to touch the black fabric, soft and delicate against your scaled fingers. With slow, hesitant movements, you began to dress, each piece feeling foreign and uncomfortable. The skirt, frilly as it was, was too short, the blouse felt tight enough to rip on your scales, accentuating your curves in ways that made you feel exposed and ****.

Once dressed, the Princess summoned one of the servants, a young woman wearing a similar costume with a subtle, but clearly hefty, collar. "Teach her what I asked," the Princess instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The maid nodded, her gaze sweeping over you apprehensive. "Follow me, miss," she said sweetly, leading you through the maze of tables and chairs. She showed you how to dust, how to polish, how to arrange the silverware just so. Each task was a lesson in humility, forcing you to bend and stretch in ways that rubbed against your scales uncomfortably. She made particular effort to teach you how to serve food to guests and place plates, explaining that service of others was something that the Princess prized in particular.

As you worked, the other servants whispered among themselves, their words carrying a mixture of amusement and pity. "She's here to learn more than just cleaning," one muttered under her breath, earning a giggle from her companion. That answered your bubbling wonder at whether this was exactly the kind of service that you were supposed to be learning.

The young girl guided you into multiple rooms in the castle, each decorated by varying kinds of rugs, furniture, and knick-knacks that you had never seen before. With her instruction, you helped her clean all sorts of things, and you began to lose yourself in the routine and forget what you were doing there.

"I think Mistress is going to let me serve at one of her famous banquets soon," she said with gleam in her voice. "I've been training for so long, and the other girls get to do so much more with her guests."

You cocked your head in curiosity, not confident enough to use human words so easily. Noticing you, she went on, "The Princess only recruits the best, and has many expectations. She uses to... get what she wants from others, when she's not fulfilling her own desires. You know by now, I mean, that she expects complete obedience, especially in..." she blushed, a symptom of her newness to the court, "intimate matters."

Your heart danced at her words, the weight of your situation pressing down on you with confusion. She continued, her eyes flickering with a kind light. "But we can teach you a few things," she said, her hand reaching out to stroke your arm gently. "Things that might make your time here... better for everyone."

Her touch sent shivers down your spine, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through your veins. She leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Let me show you," she whispered, guiding you towards the servants quarters with light grip on your hand.

There, near the entrance and before the remaining servants in the quarters saw you, she began to demonstrate. Her fingers danced across your body, showing you pressure points and sensitive areas you hadn't known existed. Each touch was deliberate, calculated, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You gasped, your body arching involuntarily, the sensations both overwhelming and intoxicating. "Don't worry," she murmured kindly, "Mistress has given us permission."