They Return to the House

They walked back to the house, Samia keeping her hands behind her back like she’d been ordered by Fiorella. She had to try to keep in character, had to look right when she entered House Reyes. There were eyes all over her body as she walked the streets of Octoton naked, but for her collar. She looked down, whispering to herself that this wasn't her real body, that she wasn't really naked as she was wearing another skin.

“What now?” Varga asked when they got inside.

“I think you should do as she said. We should spend the next week making sure we are convincing at the ball.” She looked down at his feet.

“But I’m no good at this, I’ve never been interested in slaves.”

“I know, but you have to do this, master.”

“Don’t call me that. And look me in the eye.”

She kept her eyes down. “Is that an order?”

Varga sighed, looking away.

“You have to do this, Varga. Whether you like it or not. We need the people at the ball to believe that you are capable of owning a ****, that you would punish me if I displeased you, master.”

“I already told you not to call me that, Samia.”

She looked into his eyes. “I only look at you because you commanded me to, master.” She touched his cheek, stroking it.

“Please don’t make me treat you this way. I love you.” He put his hand over his mouth after the words slipped out.

Samia’s mouth opened in surprise. “I love you too. That’s why you must do this. We have to do this together. Then after the ball, things will go back to normal.”

They stood there for a moment, looking into one another’s eyes and saying nothing. Samia felt each breath as her chest rose and fell.

“Alright,” Varga eventually said.

“What should I do, master?”

“Huh?”

Samia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I can be your footstool, or you could make me walk, and make sure I’m doing it right.”

“Alright. Let’s see you walk.”

“Yes, master.”

Samia walked from one side of the room to the other, trying to ensure she was on her tiptoes, that her chin was up, that her back was straight. Her huge breasts bounced with every step.

Varga simply stood and watched her for a while.

“Would you like to use me as a stool?” Samia asked.

“Alright.”

Samia got on all fours in front of the chair, pushing her back up straight. Varga sat down, putting his feet on her back. They stayed there for a while, until Varga got up.

“I’m not sure I can do this, Samia. I don’t like to treat you this way. It just doesn’t feel right. I’d never do this, not to anyone, and especially not to you.”

“Unless you can think of another plan to get the tiara, then you must.” She remained kneeling, not looking up at him. “I have an idea.”