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Story Notes:

Based on a project of mine. Join Daisy as she lives through her new definition of hell and tries to hold on to her humanity, all for the sadistic pleasure of those that now stand over her.

 

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Author's Chapter Notes:

Daisy is used to help the princess better enjoy her cake.

 

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Would greatly appreciate any kind of feedback, as I'm trying to improve my writing.

 

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The sound of rapid footsteps and rattling metal resonated through the decorated stone walls of the castle, as a young maid clumsily yet hurriedly ran through its lone hallways pushing a small aluminum cart. Sundown was fast approaching and her mistress's patience with her had been running thin.

The still well-illuminated halls were already adorned with lantern light in preparation for the night, a clear indication that her time was running short.

As the maid hastily turned a corner with a little too much enthusiasm, for a split second, the cart's momentum caused it to start to tumble. Her mind cleared of all doubt, the thought of attempting to regain control of the cart didn't as much as cross her mind as years of training and an overwhelming desire to remain employed kicked in. Only one thing mattered at that moment, her invaluable cargo.

With the style and grace of a majestic housecat, she lept towards her target. She had already lost the first one in an unfortunate detour through the library, and she wasn't willing to go through another walk of shame.

Anyone fortunate enough to witness this display would have been vaguely reminded of a large feline attacking a sprinting gazelle. The way she pounced, extending her muscles as her upper body rotated so as to put herself under the plate and make her back cushion the impact, followed by rotating her legs to steady her landing and avoid damaging her goods; and the plate, of course.
With a muted thump, she landed as gracefully as she could manage in her situation, putting all of her focus on keeping the balance of the plate she was holding to not let a single crumb of Her Highness's perfect cake be misplaced. The moment was broken by a loud metallic crash and the high pitched screams of two previously unsuspecting maids which now disturbed the calm ambiance that previously permeated the hallway.

"Kaathe! Would it kill you to watch where you're going, your hyperactive bimbo!?"

Kaathe, taking a quick look through the scene, subconsciously realized that the two maids before her--her juniors--must have been in the middle of lighting up this section of the castle before the little incident.

"Ah-- oh, my bad. Did anyone get hurt?" Kaathe managed a half-hearted apology towards the maid currently staring daggers at her, as she carefully got herself up while balancing the cake's plate. The maid's nostrils flared as she scowled at the girl who almost ran her over. Kaathe had barely noted the blonde kneeling on the floor with reddened cheeks, most likely a reaction to the startling event, as she prepared to be chewed out by her junior.

"Don't you give me that crap. Your dumb ass almost roll--!"

"Hold it, is that..." The scolding got cut short as the blonde maid interrupted her partner, the red quickly draining from her face, as she sat on the ground with an extended gloved finger pointed at the plate Kaathe was holding. Silence washed over the scene for a few moments as the realization set in.

"Wh-- Do you have any idea what time it is!?"

"Sorry!"

"Move it! Before you get us all fired!"

"Right!" Kaathe finished as she bolted off with the cake, the sounds of her footsteps quickly fading. With her job on the line, she had no time to lose.

"...so, are we supposed to take the cart back...?"

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Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable.

As she stood waiting outside the Princess's bedchamber, Blenke's patience was already reaching its tipping point with the girl. Blenke was not known to be a patient woman, but to push her to these limits was a feat in and of itself.

Years ago, when Blenke first accepted her as her protegee, Kaathe showed a lot of promise. The young girl's talents were immediately noticed at a young age with an incredible display of physical and magical prowess, a quite rare combination of skills that quickly found her in the sight of quite a few highly renowned academies throughout the continent. But after her initial interviews had netted her an emerald ranking--which, for the record, is the third highest in the Egotist system--for her base arcane abilities, she refused every last one of them; citing her unwillingness of putting in work without immediate monetary compensation. Granted, even as one of that year's examinators, she fully understood her situation. The girl was born from one of the wealthiest families this side of the country, owners of a fortune famously known to be earned slowly through elbow grease and smart investments. With such a reputation it would only stand to reason that her family would push for similar beliefs. Work hard, win big.

The issue lied in her attitude. It was as if all aspiration for self-improvement was lost the moment her talents were acknowledged. Blenke understood the girl's desire for putting the bare minimum effort into meeting her family's expectations, so she quickly took it upon herself to salvage such a promising child. She vowed to polish this gem until it shone like no other.

Regrettably, the years proved to Blenk how she severely underestimated just how much polish was needed. The girl had grown lazy and complacent with her position, with no ambitions to speak of, she had seemingly plateaued in all aspects of her career very early on. Her potential squandered, so much energy wasted in her inability to see a job through. She was clumsy, spoiled, reckless and unenthusiastic about her position. It has gotten to the point where even her juniors have started to match her, if not already surpassed her.

Blenke took a deep breath. The sky was red, yet the princess still didn't have her dessert.

"I'm an island of tranquility, floating in a sea of boiling rage..." She calmly chanted to herself.

Soon after, the now-familiar sound of running could be heard fast approaching, although Blenke dully noticed the distinct lack of a metallic rattling.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. But here's Her Highness's cake!" Kaathe said in between gasps of breath as she slowed down and approached her mistress. Her standard black-and-white maid uniform was thankfully presentable, although her greed-dyed hair was as much a mess as usual. "Not a crumb out of place!"

"Where's the-- Never mind, I don't want to hear it." Blenke swiftly yet expertly took the plate with one hand, perfectly balanced to avoid any accidents, and roughly grabbed Kaathe's arm with her free hand as to avoid her predictable escape attempt from her upcoming punishment. As her arm became trapped and her fate sealed, Kaathe could do little more than pout and resign herself once again to the whims of her mistress. Blenke's violet hair a constant reminder of the great gap between them, in much more than social standing.

As they entered the Princess's private chambers, the demeanor of both maids seamlessly changed. Kaathe's attitude turned uncharacteristically professional, while the chief maid's demeanor went back at how most of the staff saw her as. Calm, collected and cold.

Without the need of looking ahead, Kaathe greeted with a reverence.

"Pardon the wait, Your Highness. Your evening dessert has arrived," greeted Blenke as she walked towards what Kaathe correctly assumed was the princess, as Kaathe raised her head to take in the scene.

The room was permeated by the bright orange rays of light that sneaked in through the open window, undeniable proof of Kaathe's success in bringing the cake in time. Also illuminated was the striking silhouette of a lone beautiful woman, seated in front of a small marble table, seemingly focused on the contents of the small book she was holding with a single hand. Her face betrayed her disinterest in what formalities had been shared, seemingly not even acknowledging their presence. Her attire, a camisole, and her loose, flowing, blond hair indicated that she was done for the day. The princess was a very busy and highly respected person, no one would dare deny her her rest after all she does for her people.

Kind, modest, patient, dignified; those were all words common folk would use to describe Her Highness. But through years of service, Kaathe knew better.

The Princess set her book down and adjusted her posture as Blenke approached with her dessert. The cake was small, just enough for one person, frosting covered every inch of the pastry making impossible for a simpleton like Kaathe to know its contents, and decorated with a single strawberry and four peach slices.

As the cake was gracefully set down onto the table, the princess took a moment to take it in... and then another...

After a few moments of deafening silence, the princess calmly glanced past Blenke, towards the maid whose heart skipped a beat. She never liked it when the Princess granted her any kind of attention.

"My my, where may the utensils be? Were you perhaps planning on making me eat with my hands?" Her Highness said her first words since they entered the room in what most people would believe to be a calm, unflexing tone. But Keethe could easily pick up the faintest hint of mockery and the slight smirk on her lips.

"F... forgive me. I'll retrieve them at once--" but Kaathe was halted on her tracks by Blenke's lone raised hand. Even with her back turned against the girl, the simple gesture was more than enough to relly the message to her protegee.

For a moment, Blenke dug around in her uniform looking for something, retrieving from her skirt's pocket a small silver case. Long and wide enough to hold a spoon, yet this was an item that Kaathe had never seen her mistress carry before.

With an audible click, lost to the silence of the room, Blenke opened the case. With three dexterous digits, she retrieved two objects from the case: A piece of what seemed to be some kind of string and what could best be described as a fork without its middle dents. "If I may," Blenke set the case down on the table, besides the princess's dessert, and walked towards a nearby nightstand; Kaathe noted the hints of a smile that had formed on her mistress's face.

As Blenke moved, Kaathe noted what she was walking towards, an expensive-looking wooden box that sat alone on the nightstand; Nay, Her box.

Kaathe thought that she would have gotten used to this by now, several years had passed since she started working directly under Blenke and the princess, and just like at this very moment, her stomach would tie itself in knots and her heart would be barraged by a mish-mash of feelings she didn't want to comprehend.

But it had only gotten worse with time.

Blenke quietly opened the box, and the room remained silent. Way back then, there would have been some soft, high pitched yelling and crying, or at least a surprised yelp as the box was opened, that would get drowned in the air if the room didn't remain silent. But she was already used to it.

She had probably heard their conversation and the approaching footsteps, so she just steadied her resolve and braced herself for what was to come.

Blenke lowered the items she held into the box and seemingly fumbled with something, as a few faint squeaks could hardly be heard. The princess's gaze lied upon the box, taking in the faint sounds; this is why she always requested her room to remain as quiet as possible, so as not to miss anything.

Back when it all began, the sounds were more frantic, obvious, defiant. Music to her ears. But when she accepted how futile it was, they became more of a delightfully rare occurrence that, in some sick fashion, served as the biggest pleasure Her Highness received from the experience.

And when the noises stopped altogether, that just meant they had to get more creative to get them.

Looking down on the small creature, Blenke felt little more than contempt. Contempt and a small high over holding such a pathetic existence in a single hand. One that once could have been called her equal, perhaps even her superior. But that was no more than a distant fantasy at this point.

Holding a living, former, human being, a creature powerless to stop her from doing anything she wanted no matter how hard she may try, a toy to be used in whichever way any person desired. As she tossed her around, toying with her between the impossibly large fingers, forcefully forcing her limbs apart while tantalizingly yet roughly striping her from her miniature clothes, she couldn't help but take in the inch-tall sight before her.

From her long golden locks, tied down in a single braid going down her back, to her fair skin, rough and scarred in various places, telling signs of her life experiences. Blenke's digits rubbed her still well-toned muscles to force them to relax, as her stare fell upon the woman's eyes, tired yet ever defiant. As her eyes locked in with her's, rough breaths escaping her tiny lips, Blenke's tongue snaked ever so slightly out from between her comparatively gargantuan lips.

Truth be told, Blenke was never quite fond of little Daisy here. Even before the incident that resulted in her current state. Always so unrefined, barbaric even, yet always looking down on her rightful superiors. This situation was a constant reminder that the Forces That Be truly knew justice.

Her other hand reached for her tools, sliding the fork under the woman, holding her into position and preparing the small metal string. Her Highness was waiting.

In her younger days, Kaathe used to know Lady Day. In fact, there was hardly anyone that didn't.

She was a famed knight of great renown, bordering on a legend. Known by many names throughout the land, her story was one that is still repeated and celebrated to this day. Coming from a commoners lineage, she climbed the mountains of the kingdom's hierarchy with her own two hands, trained with the best, be it bandits or master swordsmen, and accomplished feats thought impossible by even those of the highest standings. As undeniable proof of her triumphs, despite not being under direct employment of the kingdom, she was granted knighthood, the favor of the royal family itself and the greatest of honors as becoming one of the continent's great symbols of feminine grace and heroism.

Yet, it all came to a close rather suddenly that fateful day. Two of the kingdom's greatest treasures lost in a moment's notice as news of the tragedy spread through far and wide. One of the greatest knights that had ever lived reduced to a fraction of her former self, literally.

Even then, at the time not all seemed lost. As the queen refused to let such a pathetic fate befall one of the kingdom's great symbols, she was granted one highly prestigious task: being the bodyguard and confidant of the still young Princess.
How did it come to this? Kaathe thought about that more than she'd be willing to admit. But the answer didn't matter, nor was it hers to hear.

Kaathe was starting to feel nauseous, her feelings threatening to break through her professional facade, as she caught a glimpse upon the pitiful form of the once-great Lady Day.

Held delicately in Blenke's hand was the fork-like utensil that she had previously retrieved from the case, but all eyes in the room were attracted to what laid tied between it's dented tips. As naked as the day she came into this world except for the string that tied this bizarre display of bondage together, the inch-tall knight had her arms and legs raised, elbows folded and lifted to each side of her head and knees propped as far as they could go.

That was the shameful position little Daisy was forced into. Tied and unable to move her limbs, with her bare breasts and privates open laying open and exposed for anyone to see. Gritting her teeth, not wanting to let a single sound escape from her lips and bring satisfaction to these sick women.

The experience of moving so impossibly fast over such high altitudes was something Daisy wished she could say she already got used to, as the Chief maid walked back toward her employer and gently handed her the tiny captive in a simple dizzying motion.
"Why, thank you kindly," said the princess with genuine gratitude, adjusting her grip on the utensil not paying much attention to the woman she was taking on a ride. Positioning her hand over the cake, she hovered for a few agonizing seconds, she then turned the fork slightly, rotating her pet's entire world as they finally met each other's eyes. "My little Daisy...

"You should probably take the chance to try out this delicacy. Trust me, it is truly exquisite." Daisy turned away, not willing to dignify the interaction with a glance, much less a reply. Not that it mattered to her captor, as not even a beat later she felt herself plunge down.

A small gasp escaped her lips due to the sudden motion. For a moment, a rough current of air pushed against her naked body only to be replaced by the cold frosting of the cake and darkness. Daisy closed her eyes and a familiar tangy flavor attempted to force its way through her shut mouth.

The spongy surface cooled every part of her naked body, a foreign experience that she knew for a fact she wouldn't be able to get used to. The princess could finally enjoy her passion fruit cake while paying witness to the red sky signaling the end of another day, it was a truly beautiful sunset.

Before long, she brought the first piece of her cake to her waiting maw. Completely covered by the cake, the small knight remained unseen for anyone that didn't know better. The little human's body ached as it was used to support the weight of the rising spoonful of cake.

Inserting the inch-tall woman into her mouth, her lips closed in around the fork and the princess licked clean her morsel with her humid and warm tongue. Daisy's vision was freed, yet the darkness remained in the humid cavern which she recognized as a saliva drenched mouth. She was greeted by a gigantic muscle that rubbed itself over every inch of her body, replacing the thick layers of the cake with a mixture of drool and passion fruit. The behemoth took great care in cleaning every part of her body, although Daisy wished that it could spare some of that care into more delicate strokes, as it lathered her breasts and prod her nether region.

For a moment the thought of trying to take a bite at the pink muscle passed through her mind, but the threat of punishment and possibility of the drool entering her mouth was not worth it for the mild discomfort she would cause. Her Highness took her time savoring her treat, her paying extra attention to the shape of the knight's breasts and digging in her crotch for a moment to take out any remains of the cake that had found their way into her toy's taint.

Done, for now, the princess pulled the fork out with an audible slurp, leaving a drenched and cold Daisy out in the open. Slowly, she properly chewed the pastry while only slightly exaggerating her motions and punctuated the act with a delicate gulp. Making sure to show the tiny knight the movements of her throat.

Before Daisy could properly adjust to the new atmosphere, she felt herself plunging down once again. There was a lot of cake left, after all.

As this private spectacle continued, both maids stood silently.

Kaathe was sickened. For years, she was forced to stand by while the abuse of what used to be a hero of great renown continued right in front of her, powerless to do anything about it.

Forced by the expectations of her mistress. The expectations of her becoming a worthy successor may the need arise, to keep quiet and please the royal family's every need so they could continue to fulfill their roles in peace.

Forced by the expectations of her family and peers. To rise above the wildest expectations, work hard to earn a meaningful life and grow as a person.

Forced by the spoiled princess. Who reveled in seeing her struggle and try her best to live up to everyone's expectations despite adversity, and failing miserably every time. Regardless of the fact they hadn't had as much as a conversation in the years she's been working here, this was something that was mutually understood.

Despite her feelings and best judgment, Kaathe stood still behind her mistress. Doing nothing to help the shrunken woman as the last of the cake was being devoured by their torturer. The rough treatment and deprivation of oxygen reducing her to a minuscule panting mess of sore muscles. Kaathe was no better than them.

The princess once again released the lone woman from the confines of her mouth, holding Daisy in the air for a few moments, listening to her delightful, faint, pained and humiliated breaths. She lowered her captive one last time, towards the lone strawberry that was left standing on the plate.

After a familiar rush of air, Daisy found herself pressed against a sweet, gigantic wall of red, its juices soaking her bare form. Failing to block out the fact that what she was being forced to hug was a strawberry much bigger than her entire body, she couldn't help but be humbled for what must have been the thousandth time in her life by the usually small fruit.

As the fork was raised, the entire weight of the fruit was put on Daisy along with the pressure of being raised at high speed towards the brats mouth. Her muscles practically screaming at her.

Through whichever little space was available to her, she once again observed as her world was consumed by darkness as she went past the entrance formed by the princess's lips and entered the cavern of white teeth, humid strands of drool and specks of half-chewed food. Surprising the abused knight, this time, instead of being attacked by the beast of a tongue, she was promptly, if almost hastily, withdrawn from the cavern through the giant lips. The strawberry left at the cavern's mercy.

The princess, berry still in mouth, delicately set the fork on the table, with a barely audible clatter that shook Daisy's entire world. Chewing a few times, she crushed the strawberry into a paste before letting the contents of her mouth drop through her throat with a final gulp.

As her comparatively monumental hand reached soared through the air, passing over her toy, towards her handkerchief, she couldn't help but be amused at the way the small thing stiffened in fear at the sight. "Truly exquisite," She finished while wiping her mouth clean. Leaving no trace for anyone to know of the ordeal her pet had been put through.

Blenke wasted no time and started cleaning up the table, picking up the plate, handkerchief and, of course, the utensil. Without a word, Kaathe walked over knowing what was required of her as her Mistress handed her the unwanted items and swiftly got to work.

Kaathe lost her train of thought for a second, as she watched intently the woman bound and abused that lied on the plate. Her reddened body still soaked in saliva, her chest visibly heaving, the way Daisy's eyes met with her's for a brief moment before the humiliated woman averted her gaze. Either oblivious or indifferent to the changes in the maids breathing.

Kaathe snapped back to reality when the knight was suddenly snatched by a hand, her mistress's. Who walked over, shrunken woman in hand, to the decorated wooden box that served as her cage. The princess was back to reading her book as if nothing had ever transpired, the last rays of sunlight starting to fade. Blenke promptly undid Daisy's binds and unceremoniously dropped her on the box as she closed the lid, as per usual.

Joining her protegee, the maids gave one last reverence to Their Highness and excused themselves. Once the door of the bedchamber closed, Kaathe let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding for the longest time.

"Don't you forget that you're still in trouble," her Mistress addressed her without as much as a glance while she walked in front of her protegee.

As she obediently followed her mistress in silence, Kaathe's mind lingered on the moment she had made eye contact with the former hero, now turned princess's pet. And with a somber look on her face and a tingling sensation in her loins, a single thought was what remained in her mind, I'm no better.

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Laying on the floor of her wooden cage, the once-proud knight struggled to find the will to gain her footing and stretch her muscles that ached and begged for release. Her whole body was sore and stunk thanks to the drool of the same spoiled brat that had made her life a living hell for so many years now.

As she tried to lift one of her hands off the floor, she felt her skin stick to the floor. Daisy slowly forced her hand up as she felt her skin sting with the threat of tearing. Using what little light was available in her prison she inspected the substance that covered her, other than saliva that is. The substance was sticky to the touch, thin and pinkish-- no, red.

As she stared at her hand realization suddenly hit her. She hesitantly brought her hand up close to her mouth as she let her own tongue out, giving it a small lick. The sweet and familiar taste of strawberry. The princess had refused to clean her up from the strawberry's juices as one last insult for the day, she realized. Daisy was unable to stop herself from whimpering as she held back tears.

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