The Consecration of Livia

The Consecration of Livia - Part 6

The day passed like a veil of exhaustion over them. The sun rose and fell in the sky, but the room remained untouched by the light of the outside world, the heavy curtains blocking any intrusion. Lívia and Mariana slept the entire day, their bodies intertwined in bed, still carrying the weight and traces of the previous night. The smell of sex and dried sweat permeated the air, mixed with the faint aroma of burnt wax from the candles that had gone out on their own. It was only late Sunday afternoon, when twilight dyed the sky orange, that Lívia opened her eyes, her body aching but strangely light.

Obedient as ever, she disentangled herself from Mariana’s arms, careful not to wake her, and slid out of bed. Her feet touched the cold floor, and she shivered, feeling every muscle protest. The leather collar still hung around her neck, the nipple rings jingling softly as she walked to the bathroom. There, she prepared the bath with almost ritualistic gestures: she poured in lavender-scented bath salts, added foam that soon formed white mountains, and adjusted the water temperature until it was just right. Satisfied, she returned to the bedroom and approached the bed.

“Mariana,” he called, his voice soft, almost a whisper, as he touched her shoulder. “The bath is ready.” Mariana opened her eyes slowly, a lazy smile forming on her lips at the sight of Livia standing there, submissive and attentive. She stretched, her black silk robe slipping to reveal the marks of the night—light bruises on her thighs, subtle scratches on her breasts—before standing and following Livia into the bathroom.

The two of them got into the tub together, the warm water wrapping around their bodies like a hug. Mariana leaned back against the edge, her loose hair falling over her shoulders, while Lívia settled between her legs, the foam covering her breasts, now fuller thanks to the hormones. For a moment, they were silent, just enjoying the heat and the closeness, but soon Mariana began to speak, her voice firm and full of plans.

"Enough with the vestiges of the past," she said, her fingers playing with the foam. "Tomorrow we'll throw out all the men's clothes that are still in the closet. Lucas is done. We're going to the registry office to change your name and gender officially. Lívia is who you are now, and I want the world to know it."

Livia nodded, her eyes fixed on the water, feeling the weight of the necklace and the emptiness where there had been resistance. Mariana continued, leaning forward to pick up the key hanging from her neck. "And this belt," she said, holding the key up in front of Livia, "has already done its job. The hormones have done their work. You don't need it anymore." She reached out, unlocking the metal device with a click that echoed in the bathroom. The belt fell into the water, and Livia felt a strange relief mixed with a slight vulnerability.

Mariana chuckled, sliding her hand over his now free micropenis. "Look at this," she murmured, trying unsuccessfully to get an erection. There was no sign of life, just flaccid, inert skin. "Perfect. Lucas really is dead." She let go of his hand, satisfied, and leaned back. "Tomorrow, Monday, we're going shopping. You need a new wardrobe."

Livia hesitated, her shy voice interrupting Mariana's flow. "But... I only have vulgar clothes now."

Mariana turned her face to her, her eyes shining with a mix of amusement and authority. "Yes, and that's how it will be from now on. I'm going to renew mine too. These modest clothes I have? They don't fit anymore. From now on, we'll both be vulgar whores. You'll sunbathe in a micro bikini — your little breasts already fit in one, but in the future we'll boost them with silicone. I want you to be really flashy."

Lívia blushed, but didn’t protest. Mariana’s words were orders, and she felt a strange heat growing inside her at the thought of being molded even more. They looked at each other for a moment, and then Mariana pulled Lívia closer, her hands sliding over the foam-slick skin. Between light caresses, they helped each other clean the traces of the night before—the dried cum that still marked their thighs and breasts, the traces of smeared lipstick on Lívia’s face. It was an intimate act, almost affectionate, but loaded with the power dynamics that defined them.

When they got out of the tub, Mariana dried herself quickly and grabbed a black micro skirt from the closet—so short that it barely covered her ass, leaving her bare breasts on display. “Put this on,” she ordered, tossing a slightly longer but still revealing skirt to Lívia. “No panties. I want you free.” Lívia complied, the light fabric brushing against her sensitive skin as Mariana ordered a pizza through the app.

As Lívia was drying Mariana's hair with the blow dryer, the sound of the doorbell echoed through the mansion. Mariana stood up, still half-naked, and went to the gate without hesitation. Lívia ran to the security cameras, watching her wife on the screen. The delivery boy, a young man with dark skin and wide eyes, was paralyzed when he saw her like that — her breasts exposed, her skirt riding up with each step. "You can touch me if you want," Mariana said, her voice provocative, and the boy wasted no time. He took off his helmet, his trembling hands touched her breasts, and soon he leaned over, sucking them with a mixture of surprise and desire, right there, on the side of the street.

Mariana returned with the pizza, a satisfied smile on her face, and found Lívia already with the table set—immaculate plates, glasses, napkins. They ate in silence, their bodies still weighed down by the hangover from the night before, the taste of the pizza mixing with the aftertaste of everything they had experienced. Afterwards, they settled down on the couch to watch a movie, their legs intertwined, their skirts riding up without either of them caring. The tiredness weighed heavily, but there was a latent energy between them, a sign that Lívia’s consecration—and now, Mariana’s too—was just beginning to unfold into something even wilder and irreversible.