Enter the tent!

You wander into your private tent, your massive prick leading the charge like a siege weapon breaching the gates of a conquered city as you burst through the heavy canvas flaps.

The transition from the outside is stark and immediate; the smell of smoky campfire, cheap ale, and fucksweat vanishes, instantly replaced with the cloying floral aroma of expensive Orlesian perfume. The tent's interior is a shrine to your own excess, a perfect recreation of your lavish chambers back in Skyhold, complete with a plush silk bed and a bearskin rug that tickles your calloused feet as you step inside.

Illuminated by the flickering glow of a dozen or so scented candles, Vivienne is right where you would expect her to be, perched in front of her giant ornate vanity, a gaudy over-the-top piece of furniture so heavy it probably cost three soldiers their spines just hauling it this far into your journey. The surface is cluttered with enough paints and powders to supply every brothel from here to Val Rouyeax for a month as the enchanter goes about her nightly routine. She doesn't even turn as you enter, her eyes fixed on her own reflection as she meticulously applies her makeup, though the way her nostrils flare tells you she’s caught a whiff of your signature scent.

“There you are, darling.” Vivienne purrs without even turning her head, her eyes shifting toward your reflection in the polished silverite mirror as she dabs rouge on her cheekbones, her ebony skin glowing like polished obsidian under the flickering candlelight. She sets down her tiny brush and pivots upon her cushioned stool, finally gracing you with her full attention. Her dark eyes rake over your bloated form, lingering on the monstrous slab of meat hanging between your hairy thighs. “I'll admit I was starting to get a touch impatient, dear," she offers in mock indignation. "I trust you haven't squandered all your vigor on those little harlots outside..."

You let out a gravelly chuckle, your hand reaching down to give your cock a few healthy tugs. "A few appetizers never spoiled the main course," you offer smugly. "Besides, you know damn well these balls are bottomless. Especially in the presence of the illustrious Lady of Iron."

"True enough, darling," she replies with a knowing smirk. "You’ve proven your endurance on many exhaustive occasions. Now, be a dear and close the tent behind you," she insists, gesturing toward the entrance. "We wouldn't want the rank and file to get a free show of what’s about to happen to their dignified Enchanter's bottom, would we?"

As you latch the tent shut, Vivienne rises from her cushioned seat, and the sight nearly makes you blow your load right then and there. The enchanter has traded her usual robes for a sheer nightgown that clings to the dark, smooth curves of her body and leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. You watch as she gracefully bends over the vanity, the silk fabric riding up to reveal the rounded ebony globes of her ass as she rummages through her velvet-lined drawers before producing a small crystal vial of shimmering liquid and handing it over to you.

"Scented oil, my dear," she helpfully explains before you even need to ask. "Now just apply that liberally across that overgrown phallus of yours," she commands softly. "It should give my poor, defenseless backside at least a fighting chance against such a brutish intrusion."

You snatch the vial from her manicured fingers, popping off the cork with your teeth before spitting it across the room. "Defenseless? Please," you snort, upending the whole bottle across your thickening cock, letting the fragrant oil coat your veiny shaft and low-hanging balls, the excess spilling onto the rug beneath your feet. "You don't rise to Celene's advisor without every Duke's dick tunneling in your Deep Roads." Your voice thickens with lust as you work the oil down the length of your meat, the scent mingling with your unwashed musk. "I bet your seat on the Imperial Court needed lots of extra padding..."

Vivienne stiffens for a moment, her eyebrow twitching before finally letting out a sharp huff. "Must you be so utterly crass, darling?" she scolds you. "Honestly, it's a wonder how any woman stands your total lack of refinement."

You simply stand there with your signature smirk, your greasy hands finishing the job of lubing up your monstrous meat. "Yeah, yeah, yeah..." you brush her off casually."Save the lectures for the Chantry. Now hop on the bed and get ready to take this dick already."

"Darling, a woman of my standing does not "take dick" as you so eloquently phrased it." she corrects you, clicking her tongue. "She permits. "It's fortunate for you, I'm feeling unusually permissive this evening."

With a graceful flourish, she sheds her nightgown entirely, letting it pool at her feet, exposing her naked, curvaceous form to your hungry stare. She saunters toward the massive bed at the center of the tent, hips swaying with every graceful step, before climbing onto the furs and positioning herself on all fours. Her back arches like a cat in heat, her plump, ebony ass thrust high into the air, the candlelight dancing across her skin as she glances over her shoulder with a challenging smirk. “Well? Don’t keep a lady waiting, darling."

You didn't need a second invitation. With a hungry growl, you lunge forward, your heavy bulk hitting the mattress with the **** to make the sturdy wooden frame groan in protest. You don't bother with any foreplay or tender whispers; you are nothing if not a man of base instincts, and right now, every instinct tells you to bury your oiled-up meatlog balls deep in Madam de Fer’s high-and-mighty ass.

You grab her by the firm hips, your greasy fingers digging into the soft ebony flesh as you press your throbbing, purple-headed monster against her tightly puckered star. With one violent, unceremonious shove, you drive the full length of your cock into her tight, Orlesian ring.

"HNNGH!" Vivienne lets out a sharp, strangled cry, far closer to pain than pleasure as her spine arches further, her manicured nails digging into the silk sheets. "Do try to be gentle, darling, I'm not used to-AHHH!""

You don't give her a moment to adjust, immediately withdrawing and slamming it back in, your heavy balls slapping against her inner thighs. The scented oil works its intended magic, every thrust a frictionless slide into her depths as the sickening squelches echo through the camp.

The rhythm you set is nothing short of punishing. Every thrust is a wet, slapping collision of your hairy gut against her plump backside as you bear down on Madam de Fer with your full weight, occasionally cocking back and smacking her ass with your hand like you're riding a horse.

As you ruthlessly pound her into the mattress, your mind drifts back to your first meeting at her opulent chateau. You remember the way she looked down her nose at you, her eyes filled with a cold, calculated disgust for the fat, bald Inquisitor who she saw as little more than a pawn. Back then, she wouldn't have let you kiss her hand yet here she is now, face down in your bed with her ass stretched around your huge cock. The irony of it only fuels your lust, your hips bucking faster as you pummel the poor enchanter's insides.

You reach forward, your thick sweat-slicked forearm snaking around her slender neck in a crude chokehold, pulling her head back so she’s **** to look at your lecherous, grinning reflection in her steamy vanity mirror. "Who owns this ass, Madam de Fer?" you growl into her ear, your ragged breath hitching with each exertion. "Tell me...who owns the uptight Lady of Iron's royal shitpipe?"

Vivienne’s eyes are rolling back in her head, her tongue lolling out as she begs for air against the pressure of your squeezing arm. "You...ahh you do, you insufferable boorish oaf!" she manages to **** out, her poise totally shattered as you continue to hammer into her haughty ass, your greasy prick disappearing entirely into her depths with every brutal plunge. "My ass...my ass belongs to you!"

"Damn straight!" you grunt, the pace of your thrusting growing even more frantic as your hand cocks back and slaps her jiggling ass, leaving a visible handprint on her dark skin. "And you’re gonna be leaking my spunk all over the Winter Palace by the time I’m done with it!"

"Yes, darling!" Vivienne pleads, her voice cracking as she finally breaks, her own violent climax hitting her with enough **** to make her insides clamp down on your shaft like a vice grip. "Fuck my ass harder! Faster, darling! Faster!"

Her words are all the encouragement you need, your thrust growing more erratic, more staggered as you race towards your own climax. Your vision goes white as your balls hitch closer to your body, the pressure mounting in your sack as you let out an all-conquering groan that could be heard throughout the whole camp. You pump what feels like gallons of hot ropey spunk deep into Vivienne's bowels, your cock twitching with the intense **** of the delivery until you’re utterly spent.

The exhaustion of the day finally catches up to you; the travel, the wine, and blown loads hit you all at once as your muscles turn to jelly.

Without even pulling out, you collapse forward like a felled tree in the Brecilian Forest, your sweaty, hairy bulk pinning Vivienne to the bed as your dead weight settles over her. Thankfully for her, she makes a lousy pillow and you eventually roll off to the side and onto your back, your cock slipping out of her gaped, cum-leaking hole with a wet pop as you begin to thunderously snore with the volume of a Great Bear.

Your mouth hangs open, a bit of drool already escaping your lips as you drift into a deep, dark sleep. Even in your slumber, your perverted subconscious is active. Your hand absently reaches out, searching for something familiar, until your fingers find Vivienne’s smooth bald head. With a clumsy, instinctive tug, you pull the exhausted mage's head toward your lap, guiding her face down until her mouth slides over your cock like a nightcap. You let out a contented sigh through your nose, your grip tightening on her skull as you settle in for a good night's rest.

The palace awaits you tomorrow.