Cassandra!

You're pleasantly surprised to find your next partner is your bodyguard, Cassandra Pentaghast.

Being your official "date" for the ball, Cassandra had become quite the popular dance partner, second only to the Empress herself in the number of men lining up to share the floor with her. Passed from noble to noble, the upside-down woman had been waltzed all across the ballroom, splayed legs wobbling as her Nevarran face was repeatedly defiled by their fat Orlesian cocks.

By the time she's handed to you, the Seeker is already reduced to a broken, cock drunk mess. The fight fucked out of her, the warrior's body is little more than a limp ragdoll in your arms, her beet-red face plastered with noble seed and ruined makeup as streaks of jet black mascara run down her forehead and into her matted hair. Thick threads of throat drool cling to her lips while the Nevarran's slack-jawed mouth hangs open, welcoming the next cock to claim it.

“Lady Pentaghast," you formally greet your date. “You're looking breathtaking this evening."

“I-Inquisitor?” she blinks, her vision obscured by globs of spunk clouding her half-lidded eyes.

Before you can respond, the orchestra picks back up again, playing another high-energy waltz.

“May I have this dance, Seeker?” you wink, not that your spunk-coated bodyguard can see that.

"GLAK!"

With a forceful thrust of your hips, you drive your cock to the very back of Cassandra's throat. Taken by surprise, the woman is thrown into a fit of gagging but her training kicks in quickly, and soon enough, she's bobbing her head to the uptempo music as you enter the dance again. She's able to dive down your cock with the same gusto she uses when charging into dragon fire, ignoring the trails of drool and precum that fall from her mouth, further ruining her makeup.

Joining the noblemen throat-waltzing with their partners in an impromptu dance circle of lust, you take your place in line behind Empress Celene's seventh partner as he fucks her royal face. To your left, you spot the Montilyets, Josephine and Yvette in the hands of two younger nobles, the pair of once-bickering sisters now cumming together as the men plug their Antivan throats. From out of the corner of your eye, you catch a ragged Briala trying to sneak off the dance floor only to be swept up by a portly fellow and promptly put back to work gagging on Shem cock.

Leading the nude Seeker across the ballroom, you're treated to the view of her exposed holes. The sight of Cassandra's neatly-trimmed pussy glistening with arousal is a far more appetizing one than any decadent dessert you were offered at Celene's dinner. Craning your neck forward, you push your tongue to her quim, eagerly lapping up her juices as you wander across the floor. Her taste is tangy and sweet as freshly-picked fruit and fills your mouth like honeyed wine.

Keeping one arm locked around the Seeker's waist, you let your free hand slide down her neck, threading your grubby fingers through her raven hair as you take hold of the back of her head. With a firm push and a deep groan, you push Cassandra's mouth down to the base of your shaft, her nose pressed flush against your balls, ensuring every shallow breath she takes in is steeped in the heady musk of your sweaty sack as she continuously gags on your throbbing fuck-meat.

Holding your partner's head in place, you suddenly break off from the circle of dancing nobles as you twirl out into the center of the dance floor. Naturally, such a bold act draws onlookers, the crowd briefly suspending their wine and cheese fueled gossip to watch you and your date. Giving her perky ass a smack, you feel Cassandra's throat tighten and her legs spasming wildly as her pussy begins squirting, shooting thick jets of liquid high into the air above of you.

Fueled by all the debauchery and growing cocky, you hold up your hand and snap your fingers. One by one, each girl around you, from Empress Celene down to Yvette begins to squirt as well, their synchronized arcs of fuck-nectar rivaling the public fountains of Val Royeux themselves. The crowd "ooh" and "ahh" at the sight, reacting as if they'd just taken in an enthralling show, and not a group of defiled noblewomen cumming at the command of a fat, hedonistic heretic.

The song nearing its conclusion, you pump your potent load down Cassandra's moaning throat, making the woman's pussy gush once more as the crowd of nobles give you a standing ovation. You offer your adoring public a bow, dipping Cassandra and letting her juices spray the crowd before trickling onto the floor. Between all the cum, spit, and now squirt on the ballroom floor, it's a minor miracle no one slipped and hurt themselves.

You prepare to pass Cassandra off to her next partner when a sudden thought gives you pause; Being of royal descent, there's a chance some of her Nevarran relatives are here at the ball too. You'd feel a tad awkward if you were to inadvertently hand Cassandra over to a distant cousin but as the smiling noble steps up and eagerly takes the Seeker off your hands and shuffles off, you can't complain too much since lugging the sturdy Seeker was starting to tire your arms.

With that, you step back in line, murmuring another replenishment spell on your emptied balls before turning around to receive your next dance partner...