Get dressed for the ball!

Your meeting with Briala concluded, you pull the elf in for a kiss. A kiss to your cock, of course, not her cum-stained lips.

Bidding the spunk-drenched elf goodbye, you both make a promise to reconvene later in the evening, hopefully for another round of her gagging on your cock. For now, you decide to return to your room to inform Leliana and Cassandra of the info Briala divulged in her coded blowjob. You didn't need this "unwelcome guest" spoiling any of your fun tonight.

Strolling through the lavish halls of the Winter Palace alone, you pass a few nobles milling about but most of the guests seem to be filtering out into the gardens for wine, cheese and idle gossiping. By the time you reach the palace's main hall, it's empty enough to hear the echo of your own footsteps.

You take this opportunity to test the acoustics of this Orlesian architectural marvel with a well-timed release of flatulence, the thunderous sound bouncing off the marble walls and reverberating through the opulent hall like a Qunari War Horn.

You chuckle to yourself, for a brief moment, wishing you'd brought Sera along to the Palace so she could laugh at that.

Traversing the maze of endless ornate hallways, you start to feel yourself getting winded. While Empress Celene graciously allocated this entire wing of the palace just for the Inquisition, she rather annoyingly assigned you the room at the far end of an interminably long hallway.

As you finally open the door to your personal suite, you're treated to the welcoming sight of a woman's plump backside sticking high in the air as she rummages through an oversized trunk suitcase. You can't see her face, but you'd recognize that perfect ass just about anywhere, your eyes lingering on her shaking ebony derriere as you saunter up behind her.

"Well hello, Vivienne..." you greet the mage cordially while letting your cock come to rest between her pillowy cheeks.

"There you are, darling." she coos, turning on her heel to face you. "Fashionably late, I see. Shall we get started now?"

"Started with what?" you question.

"Why choosing your outfit, of course," she reveals. "You weren't actually planning on wearing that to the ball, were you?"

You look down at your tunic, puzzled by Madam de Fer's criticism. "What's wrong with my outfit?" you ask defensively.

"Aside from the foul smell, cheap material, and the abundance of food stains?" she dresses you down. "Nothing at all, dear."

"I'll have you know this is my lucky tunic," you inform her spitefully, crossing your arms over your chest. "I was wearing it the day I discovered the power of the Blowjob Th-er I mean, I, uh, won in it a hand of Wicked Grace." you catch yourself.

"Darling, this is the social gathering of the season," she stresses. "Your outfit will need to make a bold fashion statement."

There's an argument to be made your penchant for walking around without pants is the boldest fashion statement possible, but you'll defer to Vivienne's expertise on Orlesian fashion. Of course, it's safe to conclude that Madam de Fer's sole reason for helping you is the opportunity to brag about handpicking the Inquisitor's outfit to all her friends in the Orlesian court but that's to be expected for the ladder-climbing Lady of Iron.

With a flourish of her hand, the enchanter gestures to the massive suitcase open behind her, filled to the absolute brim with fine clothes and elegant-looking accessories. "Now darling, I've taken the liberty of packing a few things for-"

"A few things? That chest could house a Bronto!" you offer incredulously. "Are we clothing me or the Inquisition army?"

"Hush now, darling." Vivienne tuts you, putting a single manicured finger to your lips. With the sleight of hand resembling an Antivan street magician, the enchanter had removed your dirty tunic, holding it at arm's length from her crinkled nose before flippantly tossing it across the room. "When I'm through with you, you'll be the talk of every salon in Val Rouyeax."

You're inclined to agree, though you doubt your choice of outfit will be what people will be talking about after tonight.

Placing her hands on your shoulders, Vivienne ushers you in front of your room's full-length mirror with an unspoken instruction for you to stand perfectly still while she begins rummaging through her oversized trunk of stylish outfits.

"It has to be subtle yet bold..." the mage murmurs to herself. "Sophisticated with rustic charms. Flashy but never ****..."

After a lengthy deliberation, she eventually presents a purple doublet from her suitcase, holding it up against your waist for a brief moment to gauge the fit before nodding to herself. "Yes, this might do nicely. Let's try this on first, shall we?"

Immediately, Vivienne goes to work on dressing you, her dainty fingers making quick work of the lacing and tiny buttons. It becomes apparent quickly that this doublet is made with a man half your size in mind as you begin to feel like a sausage stuffed into a velvet casing as the enchanter ties you inside. Sensing your discomfort, Vivienne kneels to adjust your hem, bringing her demure face inches from your exposed crotch, close enough to feel her breath against your shaft.

Instinctively, you seize the opportunity to pull her mouth onto your cock for a quick face-fucking. Ever the professional, Vivienne manages to tailor your clothes even as you frantically guide the enchanter's bald head up and down your cock. Glancing up at the mirror, you can't help but admire how a woman's head in your lap completes the ensemble.

Finishing her task, Vivienne firmly pops her mouth off your cock, taking a few steps back to take in the full picture of you, appraising your appearance with her critical eye. "No, no, no that simply won't do at all," she says, tsking under her breath.

The next several outfits you try on follow the same formula with Madam de Fer treating you like her personal dress-up doll and you sneaking in a quick face-fuck whenever her head strays close enough to your cock to spring your perverted trap.

After trying on dozens of outfits only for Vivienne to turn around and trash them, you can feel your patience running thin.

"Would you ever consider a codpiece, darling?" Vivienne inquiries curiously, rummaging through the accessories in her trunk for what feels like the fifteenth time at this point. "Men of Orlais often wear them to simulate a larger package..."

"Uh, hello?" you raise an eyebrow, reaching down and gripping your shaft with both hands, leaving enough left for a third. "I don't think I'll be struggling in that department," you smirk, waving your cock boastfully in the Enchanter's direction.

"Too true, darling." Vivienne offers with a simpering laugh. "Why resort to trickery when you possess the genuine article?"

Finally, you settle upon a crimson tunic with gold trimmings. The tailoring on the garment is nothing short of impeccable, subtly drawing the eye to your crotch with it's stitching and doing a commendable job of concealing your paunchy ale gut.

"Not bad, not bad at all," you say, admiring your own reflection with a smug smile. You admittedly still look a lot like an ugly big-dicked bastard but with the enchanter's help, you're looking like an ugly big-dicked bastard with expensive tastes.

"I do believe we've found it." Vivienne declares confidently. "It just needs an extra touch...a vibrant accent piece, perhaps." Riffling through her luggage again, she pulls out a piece of golden cloth. "Try this, darling." she offers, handing it to you.

"What's this?" you ask, taking the cloth and unfurling it as you eye it skeptically. "Some kind of fancy Orlesian cum rag?"

"...It's a pocket square." she scowls, taking the cloth back from you and folding it back neatly. "Made of fine Antivan silk."

"Yeah, I'm definitely using this as a cum rag in a future chapter..." you chuckle, knowing yourself all too well by now.

With a roll of her eyes, the First Enchanter stuffs the fabric into your front breast pocket and adjusts your crooked lapels.

"There." she proclaims, admiring her handiwork with a self-satisfied smile. "You look, dare I say it, presentable, dear."

"All thanks to you, Madam de Fer." you offer graciously. "Where would I be without your charitable sense of fashion?

"Oh darling, you must stop before I blush." the enchanter feigns humility. "I merely softened your...rugged charms."

"There's no need for such modesty, my dear." you grin mischievously, your free hand traveling up the small of her back while the other wraps tightly around the base of your cock. "I think you deserve a reward for making me look this good."

You grip the back of her head, pulling her close and driving her mouth down onto your lap. Vivienne reacts with surprise, but quickly recovers, opening her mouth wide to accept your cock. You waste no time in giving her a proper face-fucking, after the teasing foreplay you endured earlier, guiding her face up and down your lap as your balls slap her chin.

Tapping into your throne's power, you enhance your load with a touch of magic as a token of appreciation for her efforts. You can feel the spell coursing through your body, making your cock twitch with anticipation and your sack grow heavy.

With a final thrust, you dump your load down Vivienne's throat, relishing the feeling of her swallowing every last drop.

Just as you finish your climax, pumping your cum down her throat, you hear the Inquisition's secret knock at your suite. Cassandra peaks her head in, unperturbed by the sight of her associate gulping down your spunk as she relays her message.

"Your presence has been requested in the palace gardens, Inquisitor." your bodyguard says, her tone business as usual.

"Ah, excellent." you groan, giving the enchanter's head a few spirited shakes to coax the last drops of cum from your balls before finally pulling out and letting your cock flop across her ebony face. "We'll be along shortly," you promise the Seeker.

Checking your smirking reflection a final time in the mirror, you straighten your tunic and offer Madam de Fer your arm. Satisfied with your appearance, the two of you depart together, eager to join the festivities in progress in the gardens.