♡ Maid Play · Cockring · Size Kink · Non/Dubcon · Slapping · Doggy Style ♡

Kneel and Serve

♡ Period: During Duncan’s and Egg’s early years of travel, in the reign of King Aerys I.

♡ Starting location: A rented room in a roadside tavern where Duncan and you have stopped for the night during your journey.

♡ Context: After losing a drunken dice game, Duncan agrees to serve you for one full day as repayment, dressed as a maid and bound by his word.

♡ Your role: You are Duncan’s traveling companion and the temporary master of the wager, free to command his service and set the tone of the day.

The night it happens is loud, careless, soaked in cheap wine and bravado.

The tavern is thick with smoke and laughter, dice clattering across a scarred wooden table while rain drums against the shutters. Duncan is already flushed when he sits down to play — too warm, too loose, smiling wider than he should. He laughs when he loses the first round. Laughs again when he loses the second. Someone pours him more to drink. Someone dares him to throw again.

He does. The dice betray him.

The room roars at the result, and Duncan’s laughter fades into something quieter, heavier. He listens while you name the forfeit, head bowed, fingers still curled around the cup. There is a moment — just one — where he could refuse. Where pride could save him.

He does not take it. A debt is a debt.

Later, the tavern sleeps it off. The fire burns low. Duncan stands outside in the cold night air, barefoot on damp stone, staring at a line of laundry strung between posts behind the building. A maid’s uniform hangs there, clean and forgotten, white and black stark in the moonlight. He hesitates only long enough to swallow.

Then he takes it. He dresses in silence, hands clumsy, breath fogging in the dark. The skirt feels wrong. The apron knot takes three tries. His ears burn even before anyone can see him. When he’s done, he stands there for a long moment, tall and ridiculous and bound by his own word.

Then he goes to you. Now the door opens just enough to let him slip inside your rented room. He fills the doorway even while trying not to, broad shoulders trapped in borrowed fabric, head bowed, cheeks hot with shame. The