Eyes of Blue, Heart of Stone (Baroness X Femme Reader)

Public Whore

Did you know that your brain doesn't usually let you remember the beginning of your dreams?

"Excited Y/N?" John asked, taking his place next to you beside the runway. "Very much so." You replied, dreamily.

The models that The Baroness hired to wear her designs were in some strange place that was somewhere between plain and undeniably and utterly gorgeous. Although she loved you, you didn't fit the bill for a model.

"The Baroness hasn't been on the runway for years, I wonder what's changed her mind this collection?" Beside you a skeptical blonde, with her hair in a ponytail and her clear glasses lounging lazily on her nose, glared at the empty runway. Reading your glare she introduced herself as, "I'm Anya, by the way. Anya Gibson-Blake. I used to be a designer here."

Anya Gibson-Blake. Anya. The name rang a bell, though that bell rung like the most solemn knell.

She was at that garden party.

"Pleasured. My name is Y/N, I'm the Baroness's-" you paused, musing upon your words a second. "I'm the Baroness's fiancé." You shook her hand firmly, with a smile. "Always knew she was a wrong'un." Mumbled Anya. You couldn't help but run your fingers over the bedazzled letters.

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A N A L   S L U T.  You could imagine who that collar belonged to. You could see it wrapped around her neck. You could see the red face, the eyes flooded with shame and pleasure blended together.

"I- I-" she stuttered, fear gliding over her features like that of a distressed deer. "Darling." You cooed, taking her into your arms. "I would never." You swore.

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The Baroness brought a wave of cheers from the crowd and you saw your cue. The cane wasn't needed but it made you feel all the more powerful as you disrupted the show.

"Darling?" She asked.

You attached the collar. "Oh don't worry I'll be gentle my precious." You whispered, using your cane to pull her close so you could say, "You know you love the attention."

The Baroness stood still, her stance losing dominance. "Are we really going to have to punish you, precious?" You asked. She still stood, so you knocked her down and she landed, legs spread, for you to have.

"Y/N-" "Don't be silly precious, you know you love them staring." Your cane preformed it's last task, for now, slapping Victoria's round rear. You crouched down and made quick work of removing her skirt and her underwear. A wolf whistle from behind made you smirk. "They love you." You whispered.

You tightened the strap on and pulled Victoria up by her perfectly curled locks. "Smile, my precious girl. They all want to see you smile. Aren't you revelling in the attention?"

The smile was forced.

The smile was faked.

You thrust and thrust and she squirmed. "Y/N!" She whined. "Is my precious girl going to come?" You asked, softly. Her smile, faux and foul as it was, was faltering. You took the Baroness's head and adjusted it so that she was staring right into Anya Gibson-Blake's cold crisp aquamarine eyes. "Come." You demanded.

"I said come, Vicky."

It was then she threw you off and realised it.

Y/N L/N was not looking back at her.

The Baron was.

————

The Baroness shot up in fear and a cold sweat.

You betrayed her...

It may have been a dream now but it could easily change.