Josephine's

The next morning, you sat upon the Blowjob Throne, its power coursing through you as you awaited the Comte's arrival. Josephine, resplendent in her golden lingerie, stood beside you, her eyes gleaming with a mix of anticipation and submission. The throne's magic had her in its grip, her every movement sensual, her every word laced with the desire to serve. When the Comte entered, his expression was one of cautious curiosity, but as his eyes fell upon Josephine, his demeanor shifted to one of lecherous interest. You leaned back in the throne, a cruel smile spreading across your face as you gestured for Josephine to approach the Comte.

Josephine's golden heels clicked against the stone floor as she moved toward the Comte, her hips swaying with an exaggerated sensuality that the throne's magic amplified. The Comte's eyes widened, his pupils dilating as he took in the sight of her—her bare breasts gleaming in the dim light, the g-string barely covering her, and the stockings that highlighted the curves of her legs. She knelt before him, her hands sliding up his thighs with practiced ease, her lips parting in a inviting smile. The Herald watched with a smirk, the throne's power surging through him as he leaned forward, his voice low and commanding.

The Comte's breath hitched as Josephine's hands reached the buckle of his belt, her fingers moving with a practiced slowness that belied the urgency in her eyes. The throne's magic pulsed around her, amplifying every curve, every movement, until she was less a woman and more a living embodiment of desire.

"Congratulations for your entrance in Orlaisian nobility." You say "Josephine wanted to thank you."

The Comte's resolve crumbled as Josephine's lips wrapped around him, her golden lingerie glinting in the dim light as she moved with a rhythm that was both practiced and compelled. The throne's magic swirled around her, enhancing every sensation, making her touch irresistible. The Herald watched with a smirk, the power of the throne coursing through him, as the Comte's arousal grew. "Sign it," the Herald growled, his voice low and commanding, "and this doesn't have to end." Josephine's eyes met the Herald's, a mix of submission and desire reflecting the throne's influence. The Comte, his breath ragged, nodded, reaching for the petition as Josephine continued her relentless pace, ensuring his compliance.

As the Comte's quill scratched across the parchment, a mixture of relief and depravity washed over his face. Josephine's lips never wavered, her pace steady and unrelenting, even as the Comte's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her deeper. The Herald leaned back in the throne, the magic coursing through him like a river of fire, amplifying every moan, every gasp, until the room was alive with the sounds of submission and power. "Seal it with your cum," the Herald growled, his voice echoing through the chamber, and Josephine obliged, her throat working in rhythmic motions as the Comte's eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

As the Comte's quill finished its stroke, a shuddering climax rippled through his body, his seed spilling into Josephine's eager mouth. She swallowed with a practiced grace, her golden lingerie gleaming with faint traces of sweat under the dim light. The Herald leaned back in the Blowjob Throne, the magic pulsating through him like a triumphant roar, as he watched the scene unfold with a satisfied smirk. Josephine rose to her feet, her movements fluid and deliberate, her eyes never leaving the Herald's as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

Josephine straddled Renard, her golden lingerie catching the dim light as she lowered herself onto him. The throne's magic pulsed through her, heightening her desire and ensuring Renard's compliance. She rode him with a practiced rhythm, her hips moving in a way that was both commanding and sensual. Renard's hands gripped her waist, his fingers digging into her skin as he moaned, completely under her spell. The Herald watched, a satisfied smirk on his face, as Josephine's breasts swayed with each movement. The room was filled with the sounds of their union, the air thick with the scent of sex and power.

As the Herald leaned back in the Blowjob Throne, the magic pulsed through him, a satisfying hum of power and control. Josephine, now off Renard, approached him, her golden lingerie glistening with the remnants of their conquest. She knelt before him, her eyes locked on his, a mixture of submission and desire burning within them. The Herald reached out, his chubby hand stroking her cheek, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well done, Josephine," he rasped, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You've proven once again why you're my most trusted diplomat."

The Herald's smirk widened as he leaned forward, the throne's magic crackling with satisfaction. Josephine's eyes locked onto his, a knowing glint reflecting the unspoken understanding of their victory. The Comte, now utterly subdued, slumped back in his chair, his chest heaving as the weight of his decision settled over him. The room was thick with the scent of sex and power, the air heavy with the knowledge that resistance was futile. "You've made an excellent choice, Renard," the Herald rasped, his voice dripping with triumph. "And as promised, this is just the beginning."