For my real life Isabella
Only a few more days left.
Cordelia closed her eyes slowly. She kept reciting her mantra of recent weeks repeatedly. Her time with the gender studies program at the university was ending and she could not be happier. Recent brushes with the program hierarchy had proved what she had thought for a long time in her mind: for all the talk of how radical and progressive this program was, it was just as boring and normative as the others around their largish state university campus were.
After a long moment, she opened her eyes again. Before going to finish reading a few interlibrary loan books, she had to finish off a blog post. She had been running a blog pseudonymously for the past three semesters. On her blog, she chronicled the treatment of women on campus. Things started out well; she reported on a frat’s “hilarious” Halloween “bitches and hoes” party. She was also behind two Take Back The Night rallies and the campus wide support of a professor being discriminated against due to a harassment suit.
All of that changed this semester. Alongside the rising star of the faculty, she had organized a symposium for their program. A few very famous scholars were brought in for a panel and the keynote presentation. After a number of student cancellations and a lot of miscommunication by her advisor, Cordelia’s symposium quickly began to fall apart. All of this would have been fine, academic get togethers aren’t always perfect, but the day of the symposium her advisor put all of the blame on her. Cordelia could not understand this and spoke up against her. Her fellow students, her supposed “allies,” did not back her. Since then, she had been forsaken and pushed aside by the entire campus. They sided with the rising star of their program, of which they could hedge their future and the recruitment of other professors on. Cordelia was just an uppity, unruly, radical.
Cordelia looked up at the right corner of her Linux desktop. Her roommate, Trish, would be here in a few minutes. How she had survived four years of college with a decent GPA was beyond Cordelia’s imagination. Trish was not quite what you would call a bimbo, but she was not the brightest bulb. But really, she did not care if the blond beauty earned it on her knees, with her daddies’ money, or by actually doing work. That was her choice. Seriously, she could care less what straight people did to survive.
Whatever It was time for Cordelia to get dressed. She stood in front of the mirror and put a pale hand to her black hair, which extended down to her chin. Soon she would need to cut her hair again. Long hair made her feel uncomfortably womanly. She slid a pair of baggy skater shorts up over the black, very plain, panties she had been wearing around her room while no one was home. Before she put on a shirt she touched her breasts. By the standards of the average American, they were adequately large, but for Cordelia they were just another daily reminder of something she did not want to be. Femininity was a social disease she did not want to participate in.
She could hide them under baggy tops most of the time, which she did now with a hooded sweatshirt. Sometimes Cordelia taped her breasts down in a further attempt to hide them. For a long time she had considered the potential of transitioning, but, while she did not feel much like a woman, she certainly did not feel like a man either.
Before the dark haired lesbian could become completely lost in reflection, Trish knocked loudly and came into their room. “Hi!” Trish came over to Cordelia’s side of the room and hugged her gently. The blond girl meant well, she supposed, and they never really had any problems while living together the past four years.
Cordelia never knew how to respond to Trish’s overwhelming affection. For a moment, she watched in silence as Trish texted on her phone, pink nails bouncing off keys in rapid fashion. “Ahem,” she interrupted, “we need to get to the library so we can get our spot.” For the past two semesters they had laid claim to a table in a research room that was strangely unoccupied whenever they went in. Cordelia being persona non grata might have explained it, but it was like that even before then.
Trish finished her final text message and looked up. “Oh yeah, cool, I need to change so I will catch up!” She walked over to her closet and pulled out a pair of shorts and a shirt.
“You need...to change...to go study? Trish, it’s the final week of classes, I doubt anyone cares right now.” Exhibit A for why she could never be femme was right in front of Cordelia.
Trish paused for a moment, tilted her head slightly, and looked, surprisingly, lost in thought for a second. She blinked a few times and her cheerful smile was back. “Yep!”
Cordelia shrugged. “Alright. Call my phone if you’re going to be late.” Trish’s lesbian roommate began to move towards their door. On her way out her sweatshirt lightly tapped a necklace sitting on the crate her Playstation sat on. It fell to the floor and bounced a few times on the carpet.
When Princess Cordelia left the room, Trish ran across it to pick up the fallen necklace. The necklace, silver with writing in a language Trish was not privileged to understand, glistened in the light from the ceiling. She picked it up and held the relic close to her chest. She was simply a drone, her will erased and supplanted with the desires of her precious princess’ adopted mother, the Queen of the empire. Today was the day they would be returning home to their kingdom. The necklace, as had been brainwashed into her repeatedly, was the key to their return.
A tear dropped down Trish’s face. She was an inferior earthling but thought herself lucky to have been deemed worthy of devoting her life to the service of the Queen and her daughter’s Cordelia and Isabella. Four years ago she had been kidnapped the week before her first semester of college began. Her minor struggles were easily defeated as she was dumped into a large black tube where, after being strapped down, the most beautiful lights and sounds she had ever experienced filled her senses. Quickly her will was defeated and she began the journey towards becoming Princess Cordelia’s personal guardian on Earth.
The blond girl now knew her purpose was, without question, to serve the empire. A chip inside her brain constantly fed new programming as needed. A wonderful side effect of this procedure was the fact that the lovely lights and sounds she had seen that weekend were now permanently in her mind’s eye, buzzing inside her little earthling brain. While she slept each night, new instructions were planted in her mind. Trish would befriend Princess Cordelia and become, due to the workings of another drone already placed on their campus, her roommate while they attended college. She would be average, normal, and adhere to conventional social norms and gender roles as to not arise any suspicion. The only problem, due to the beautiful buzzing in her brain, was that her cognitive skills were a bit slower. This left Trish a dimwitted, boy crazy, airhead. Nevertheless, her devotion to the empire was without question.
Princess Cordelia had been sent to Earth by the empire at the age of sixteen to assess its worth. The only caveat, the music sang to Trish each night in those early days, was that the future Queen of the empire’s memories had been altered so that she thought her life on Earth was real. This was done so that the assessment of whether a targeted planet had progressed to a stage where it was found worthy of being a part of the empire was completely impartial.By random, someone in the highest part of society was chosen for this assignment. Sometimes it only took a year, or a month, but due to Earth’s brisk rise in technology and warfare a decision would take five years. The Princess’ name had come up and she accepted despite her impending marriage to Isabella. It was her patriotic duty to the empire, something the Queen had done herself years before, and so she was placed under the spell of the necklace which Trish held in her hands right now and sent to Earth to begin collecting unbiased empirical data about their civilization.
Trish quickly dressed herself in a pair of very tight, revealing, pink shorts that said something completely idiotic on the back. A form fitting white shirt slid over her head and sat snugly on her impressive chest. She took one last look around the room and stopped at her bed. Nothing she owned mattered to. The frivolities of earthlings, all the possessions, none of them held any meaning. When she arrived in the empire, the only possessions that would matter were the ones that helped her obey the current command programmed into her drone mind.
With a few blinks, the blond drone turned around and walked back over to Princess Cordelia’s side of the room. Her belongings would be sent to her castle in the empire when they left Earth. No one on Earth would question their disappearance. The way the magic worked, so her chip sang, was that they would permanently be at a distance from the minds and memories of humans. People would just think they were somewhere else.
Which, for Princess Cordelia, Trish was sure would be just fine. The Princess had not gotten along well with people and was very sad and lonely. It pained Trish to see the future Queen in such distress, but her programming told her that in due time everything would be rectified. Trish got along because it was her duty, her programming, and, even then, it was a strain at times. Anytime she had difficulty conforming to Earth’s norms, however, a night with her song singing through her dreams found the drone refreshed and ready to obey her programming without question yet again.
On her way to the library, Trish thought about what an honor it was to serve. As she walked through the stacks she reflected on how beautiful the Princess was; her perfect, boyish, but quite unkempt recently, haircut that reaffirmed her role as a superior in the empire. Only a drone like Trish wore their hair in a longer, feminine, manner. However, it was the way that, from afar, Cordelia resembled a more feminine boy that drove her to orgasm everyday. Cordelia’s powerful, confident, nature and extremely sexy body turned the drone on beyond description.
Finally, she came to where the dark haired lesbian sat with a book in hand taking notes. Trish slowed down as she got closer to the door. A fit of nerves came over her. This was really happening! Calming herself, she resolved to see things through and obey her programming. In the room, she gently put her hand onto Princess Cordelia’s; the bright pink nail on her index finger touched her gently.
Cordelia looked up and smiled, “hey, finally,” and put down her book so she could pull a notepad out of her bag. “I think,” she paused to yawn, “I am going to use an excerpt from Powers of Horror and this Judith But-”
Trish saw her chance open up and took it immediately by interrupting her Princess. “Oh, are you tired? I can get us both a coffee! I have money left in my account I should use.” Shortly that would not matter, which made Trish’s cunt purr with excitement.
“Sure, thanks, Trish.” Cordelia looked away thoughtfully for a moment. “Hey, this might be our last ever study session?” Trish nodded and smiled a little too enthusiastically. Cordelia remained quiet during the awkward moment but then flipped to a page on her notepad and began to write something down. “Anyway, thanks for getting coffee.”
Outside of the library Trish got in the line for the coffee shop that had just been installed that semester and waited for her turn. A few members of her cheerleading squad sat at a table on the other side of the shop. Trish sighed and then frowned a little. It deeply saddened her that other women did not know the joy of serving the empire. Princess Cordelia deserved the absolute obedience of every female on Earth.
As she paid for their coffees, her friends saw her and waved. Trish stared at them and smiled, realizing that, perhaps, one day they might enjoy a similar brainwashing to the one that she had experienced and become drones as well. Her smile dropped away and she turned back towards the library and entered it, trying to forget the existence of anyone not involved with the current command she was obeying.
At the bottom of the stairs, she stopped and pulled a small vial out of her pocket. She dropped the tablet into one of the coffees and watched it dissolve. The blond haired drone made her way through the stacks yet again, for the final time, and arrived swiftly back at their study room. Cordelia smiled at her when she entered the room. Trish put their coffees down and watched her Princess take a decent sized gulp of it. The loyal drone stood up and walked across the table to watch the dark haired lesbian she devoted her life to flutter her eyelids a few times and begin to fall forward. Trish caught her and softened the descent to the table with her feminine arms.
For a long moment, Trish wrapped her arms around Princess Cordelia. The song inside of her brain took control of her movements and she brought the necklace out of her other pocket and placed it in both of their hands. Slowly, and then much more quickly, the room around them began to swirl and fade away. After a bright white light blinded her for a moment Trish found herself and Princess Cordelia sitting on the side of the bed, the dark haired royalty next to her slumped over on her side.
Trish took in her surroundings. They were in a large bedroom with a small closet and about ten bookshelves filled with books and electronics. Upon standing up, her mind began to blank until she stood at attention waiting for instruction. Her life on Earth became a foggy memory of an imperfect life filled with independent thoughts and willful decisions a drone is too special to have to make. A new song sang in her mind causing her eyes to become glassy and large. After a few minutes, she understood her purpose and walked out of the room to obey her current command.
A few hours later, Cordelia slowly opened her eyes and found herself in a large bedroom. As she took it in, an alarming sense of familiarity came over her. Had she been here before? She looked up and touched the table at the side of the bed. A necklace hung over the side. The necklace she owned, but never wore, but could not figure out why she never got rid of it. Right at that moment the dark haired princess turned at a sound by the door and saw the naked, tanned, boyish looking brunette across the room.
They stared at each other from the opposite sides of the room. It all came back in an instant. Both Cordelia and Isabella began to cry. Slowly, Isabella walked towards the bed and put her shaking right hand upward. Cordelia slowly, shaking just as much, brought hers up as well until they interlocked. Isabella tilted her head slightly, “hi Cori,” and pulled her into a tight embrace.
As the lovers held each other, Cordelia’s mind spun through memories long hidden from her. She was a princess, destined to be Queen of the empire alongside her lover, adopted sister, and best friend Isabella. Five years ago, she went to Earth, memories of her life in the Empire placed just out of reach, to scout their planet for potential recruitment or colonization. However, as the lovers pulled away and stared into each other’s eyes, none of that mattered for now.
For a long moment, they sat in silence, squeezing their hands together. Isabella knew from speaking to her mother about her own long-term assignment how hard the first moments of readjustment were for even the sharpest mind. Finally, Cordelia leaned in, kissed her on the mouth gently, and then sat back with a thoughtful look on her face. “I always thought I must be from another planet,” both princesses laughed, “even when I was a kid.” She stopped and looked up at her lover, who nodded encouragingly for her to go on. “Now I know why it was so hard to remember...before I went to that family when I was sixteen...it was all fake, that’s why it always seemed so wrong.”
“Welcome home, my lover, my fiancé,” Isabella whispered as she pulled her tight again.
Cordelia pulled away and playfully shoved her. She scratched her head in thought. “Oh yeah, we still need to get married don’t we?”
The brunette princess hugged her again. “You can take as long as you want my dearest lover.”
Cordelia kissed her fiancé and pushed her down onto the bed. She placed her head on Isabella’s shoulder and they lay silently in each other’s embrace. After a half hour or so, she quietly said they should get married the first chance they could. Isabella slid two fingers inside of her lover’s underwear as an affirmative response. Cordelia did the same and they fucked each other for the first time in five years. In due time, when she screamed in ecstasy, tears ran down Cordelia’s face. Her life on Earth was already becoming a distant, nightmarish, memory. She was home. The empire awaited her.
What did you think of the first chapter of Queen Cordelia? Please let me know at queen.cordelia82@gmail.com