A mysterious noble visits your court.

With Leliana taken care of, you take a seat back in your magic throne and set about finishing the rest of the items on Josephine's agenda.

“What’s next on the list, Josie?” you ask, lazily stroking your thoroughly-drained prick.

“A land dispute between Lord Bertrand and Lord Gatwood of Orlais, Your Worship.”

You roll your eyes at the prospect of such dull affairs. It's a snooze but being the Inquisitor isn't always fun and games, no matter how much throne magic you used trying to make it that way.

“Morrigan!” you call out, beckoning the witch turned cockslut back to her post.

After a few moments, she appears, seemingly out of thin air, to kneel back at your feet.

“And where were you?” you inquire, pointing at your now deflated cock.

“Contrary to your beliefs, Inquisitor, my body cannot function entirely on male seed. I saw you debasing your spymaster’s face instead of mine for once and took the opportunity to visit your tavern for a suitable meal.”

“Fair enough” you admit. “But try to be more mindful of your job in the future, cocksleeve.”

Morrigan smirks before returning to her duties at your feet, sucking and slurping. With your cock finally reunited with a wet mouth, you feel ready to tackle the rest of today’s agenda.

“Send them in!” you announce to your beautiful chief diplomat.

As the trial drags on, it's just as boring as you expected. Even more disappointing is that neither Lord Bertrand nor Lord Gatwood was kind enough to bring forth any manner of tribute for you.

As rumors of your lewd behavior started to spread, it's wasn't uncommon for guests to present women to you as a tribute to gain your favor in their cases. Some poor men even offer up their own wives, willing to be publicly cuckolded by the Inquisitor for a few acres in a land dispute.

You could still remember the farmer’s wife, Mabel, riding your hard cock in front of the whole throne room while her husband watched mortified. The young farmer, with almost nothing to his name, had offered his wife to you in exchange for his farm’s protection against Ferelden's murderous bandits. Mabel was a sexy, little redhead so you happily agreed and in turn had a squad of soldiers sent to protect the farmer’s land. Or at the very least, you made a mental note to send the soldiers. You should probably check with Cullen on that when you have the chance.

Paying them attention again, the lords are still bickering over an insignificant speck of land while your cum receptacle Morrigan continues to lap away at your hard shaft.

Bored out of your skull, your mind starts to wander back to your redheaded conquest. You close your eyes and imagine how she was riding while you stayed seated in your throne, the woman’s curly red hair whipping in every direction as you thrust upwards into her tight cunt.

Caught up in your fantasy, you almost impulsively find yourself placing both hands on the back of Morrigan’s head and begin to hump her face with the same reckless abandon with which you had fucked Mabel’s pussy. With every thrust, the witch's gags echo throughout the chamber as you feel yourself drawing closer and closer to orgasm.

Soon it becomes far too much to take and with a loud groan, you sink your cock to the hilt and fire shot after shot down the witch’s gullet. You lift Morrigan's ravaged face from your lap and sigh, enjoying the afterglow of such an intense eruption.

“Inquisitor?” one of the lord’s questions, interrupting your post-orgasm serenity.

“Huh?” you groan, opening your eyes for the first time in minutes.

“Do you have a decision for us?” It was Lord Bertrand, clearly annoyed with your antics.

You look over to Josephine for guidance. She shrugs, seemingly indifferent to both men.

“Yes, I do.” you declare. “It is my decision that neither of you will be getting the land. You will both sign a deed transferring ownership of the property to the Inquisition and it will serve as our new outpost."

The men are livid but your armed guards remove them both with ease. The next few hours are just more of the same. A few more land disputes, a few more judgments, and a few more loads down your advisers' throat. It goes on like this until near sundown when the last patron exits your throne room.

“I believe that is everyone, Inquisitor,” Josie announces, giving her ledger one final inspection.

“Thank the Maker!” you shout, pleased to be set free. “I’ll be at the tavern if anyone needs-

You're interrupted by the sound of the main hall opening, revealing a hooded figure standing in its entrance. It's difficult to see but as the figure slowly begins to walk towards your throne, you can tell that it’s a woman. A woman dressed in ornate robes complete with a hood whose shadow completely obscures her face. The whole court is silent, not sure what to make of this strange new visitor.

As she approaches your throne, she kneels before you. Unlike most nobles, she elects to do so from both knees. You open your mouth but before you can say anything, she raises her head.

“Greetings, Inquisitor” she announces in a low, sultry voice.

You watch as she lowers her hood to reveal her face. She's quite young, in her early twenties you believe, and quite beautiful. You're immediately drawn to her alluring eyes and seductive lips. Her hair is trimmed short, shorter than Cassandra though not quite as short as Vivienne's. From the number of whispers, you could tell the court was in a frenzy over this captivating girl.

“Please introduce yourself to the court.” Josephine huffs, irked by the unscheduled visitor.

“My name is Lady Olivia of House Fellatim."

"And what is that nature of your visit, Lady Olivia?" she continues, scribbling in her notes.

"I have come to honor an age-old agreement between my family and your Inquisition.”

“And what agreement is that?” you ask, running your fingers through Morrigan’s hair as she went back to engulfing your cock.

“You are aware of the original Inquisition, correct?”

You nod. “I am indeed.”

“Ages ago, the House Fellatim was renowned for its mastery of the carnal arts. Shortly after your original group’s creation, your ranks conscripted my family into the Inquisition as its sanctioned concubines. For years, my ancestors served at your holy warrior's feet, each a hallowed vessel for their divine seed.”

“Interesting,” you say, leaning forward in your throne. You can feel your prick really starting to expand in your cock sleeve's narrow throat. This mystery woman certainly knew how to capture your attention.

“I’ve never heard of House Fellatim.” interrupts Josephine, an expert in all things Thedas nobility.

“You wouldn’t have.” sighs the hooded woman. “The Chantry grew nauseatingly chaste in the days after the Inquisition disbanded. Our role in its creation is seen as an uncomfortable stain. It is for this reason, every record of my family was expunged from their history books. As the last of my bloodline, I alone am tasked with carrying on our customs.”

“And what is it that you want exactly, Lady Olivia?” Josephine inquires.

“I wish to pledge myself to your restored Inquisition and fulfill my family's original purpose.”

“By being a vessel for my cum...” you state plainly.

“That is correct, Inquisitor.”

“This is almost too good to be true” you mutter under your breath.

You forcefully shove Morrigan off your lap. "Begone, witch! I wish to sample my new toy."

Hopping up from your throne, you gleefully stride over to the kneeling woman. She stays still as a statue even as you get closer to her. Now towering over her with the head of your prick less than an inch from her gorgeous mouth, you're ready to sample her mystery family's talents.

“If I may make one request, Your Worship.” Lady Olivia interjects, raising her finger.

“And what would that be?" you groan, eager to fuck this zealot's face.

“The children of Fellatim believe that the relationship between a vessel and her master is sacred. As such, it is tradition that a vessel’s first filling happen in private, preferably in the Master's chambers.”

"Is that so?" you challenge, raising an eyebrow. You stroke yourself as you contemplate this.