The morning arrived soft and golden at the imperial castle. I woke up early, my heart still pounding hard from the night before. The image of Elyra drinking the pink potion without hesitation was still burned into my mind. I had barely slept; every time I closed my eyes I saw her innocent smile as she swallowed the sweet liquid.
I dressed in simple but elegant clothes: a white shirt, dark pants, and the light prince's cape. Underneath I was still wearing the pink lingerie, now dry but constantly reminding me of what I was. I left my room and walked toward the private garden where we had agreed to have breakfast.
Elyra was already there.
She was sitting at the same table we had used for dinner the night before, now decorated with fresh fruit, freshly baked bread, honey, cheese, and aromatic tea. She wore her pure white saint's robe, but she had removed the veil, letting her silver-white hair fall loose over her shoulders. The morning sunlight made her glow like an apparition.
When she saw me, her face lit up with a radiant smile.
"Allen… good morning," she said softly, standing up.
She approached and gave me a hug that lasted longer than usual. Her massive breasts pressed warmly against my chest. When she pulled away, her cheeks were slightly flushed and her blue eyes seemed brighter than yesterday.
"I waited for you a little," she added, biting her lower lip for a second. "I wanted to have breakfast with you before the day's duties began."
We sat together. The servants served us in silence and then withdrew. We were left alone under the willow, surrounded by flowers.
We started eating. Elyra was more… close. Every time she passed me the bread or the honey, her fingers brushed mine a little longer than necessary. When she laughed at something I said, she tilted her head and her white hair fell beautifully over her shoulder.
"Allen…" she said suddenly, looking at her teacup. "Last night I slept very well. That drink you gave me… it tasted delicious. I felt more relaxed than ever. Do you have more? I'd like to drink it again before bed."
Her voice was sweet, innocent, but there was a small change. A new sparkle in her eyes. A faint blush that didn't leave her cheeks.
I swallowed hard. The "More Whore" potion was already taking effect, though very slowly, very subtly.
"Of course… I can get you more," I answered, forcing a smile.
Suddenly, two guards patrolling the edge of the garden walked past nearby. One of them looked at Elyra with a lascivious smile and whispered something to the other. I caught only fragments:
"…the Saint is even hotter than the fiancée…" "…when it's our turn, we're going to use her just like Lady Aiz…" "…look how her tits are outlined… the prince has no idea what he has…"
They laughed quietly and kept walking.
I felt a knot in my stomach and at the same time my small cock jumped inside my pants. Elyra didn't seem to hear them, or if she did, she didn't show it. She kept looking at me with that pure tenderness.
The potion was working. Slowly. Silently. Like a sweet poison.
While we continued having breakfast, the effects of the other two potions Elyra had taken the night before began to show in an even more subtle but impossible-to-ignore way for me.
The Total Submission Potion made her body respond with a natural, almost instinctive obedience. Every time I spoke, she tilted her head slightly toward me, as if waiting for an order. When I asked her to pass me the honey, she did it immediately, with a soft smile and her eyes lowered for a second, as if pleasing me was the most natural thing in the world.
The Public Humiliation Potion was more treacherous. Every time the guards passed nearby and looked at her with obvious desire, Elyra blushed intensely, but not with pure shame… rather with a strange mixture that made her thighs press together under the robe and her breathing become a little faster. When one of them murmured something about "using her just like Lady Aiz," she lowered her gaze, biting her lower lip hard, but her nipples became clearly visible against the white fabric of the robe for several seconds.
I noticed everything. And every detail hit me like a whip.
"Allen…" she said suddenly, moving her chair even closer to mine until our knees touched. "These days with you are making me so happy. It feels like we've gone back to being children… but at the same time… there's something different. I feel more… close to you. Like I want to hug you all the time."
She rested her head on my shoulder for a moment, breathing softly against my neck. Her silver-white hair smelled of flowers and something sweeter, almost intoxicating. Her hand slid to my thigh and stayed there, not boldly, but as if she needed to touch me.
"Promise me that, even if you marry Aiz… you'll always let me stay close to you."
I took her hand and squeezed it affectionately, even though inside I was burning.
"I promise, Elyra."
We had breakfast like that, talking about simple things, laughing at old memories, sharing long glances. But the changes kept appearing:
• When she leaned forward to take a strawberry, her robe clung more tightly to her breasts, outlining them more clearly than yesterday.
• She crossed and uncrossed her legs more often, as if something inside her was bothering her.
• Every time she looked at me, her pupils seemed to dilate a little more and her voice became slightly softer, more submissive.
Suddenly, an imposing figure appeared at the garden entrance.
My grandfather Valthor.
He walked with firm steps, his dark cape billowing behind him. His presence instantly filled the place. Elyra tensed slightly beside me, but she didn't pull away. On the contrary, her body leaned almost imperceptibly toward me, as if seeking protection… or waiting for an order.
Valthor stopped in front of the table. He looked at both of us with that cold, dominant smile I knew too well.
"Good morning, grandson," he said, and his deep voice echoed through the garden.
"Saint Elyra… what a pleasure to see you again in our home."
Elyra stood up immediately, with absolute respect. She bowed her head in a deep curtsy, the white robe falling elegantly.
"Lord Valthor," she greeted in a soft, submissive voice. "It is an honor to have you here."
I also stood up, but Valthor placed a heavy hand on my shoulder and forced me to sit back down.
"No need to stand, dog," he said quietly, only for me, though Elyra heard it perfectly.
She didn't react with surprise. She only lowered her gaze even further, her cheeks flushed. The submission potion was doing its work.
Valthor sat at the head of the table without asking permission. He took a strawberry from Elyra's plate and bit into it slowly, looking at us both.
"I see you had a good night," he commented, his tone casual but full of authority. "The Saint seems… more relaxed than yesterday. Right, Allen?"
I nodded without being able to help it.
"Yes, grandfather."
Elyra remained standing, hands clasped in front of her, waiting. Her posture was completely submissive, as if she were before a sacred superior.
Valthor smiled.
"Sit down, Saint," he ordered in a soft but impossible-to-disobey voice. "Eat. I want to see how you share breakfast with my grandson."
Elyra obeyed instantly. She sat down again, but this time closer to me, almost pressed against my side. Her thigh brushed mine under the table.
Valthor watched us while we ate in silence for a few minutes. Then he spoke directly to Elyra:
"Tell me, Saint… how do you feel today?"
Elyra blushed intensely, but answered with honesty:
"I feel… very good, Lord Valthor. More at ease. More… willing to serve."
Valthor let out a low laugh and looked at me.
"Good work, grandson. It seems you're learning."
He stood up, left the half-eaten strawberry on Elyra's plate, and looked at both of us with that dominant smile that said everything.
"Keep enjoying your breakfast. This afternoon I want to see both of you in the main hall. There are important matters to discuss about the wedding… and about the Saint's future in this castle."
He turned and walked away with firm steps, leaving a heavy silence behind him.
Elyra and I were alone again. She kept her head slightly lowered, cheeks red, but her hand sought mine under the table and squeezed it tightly.
"Allen…" she whispered, almost voiceless. "Your grandfather… is very… imposing."
I could only squeeze her hand back, feeling how my small cock throbbed inside my pants.