Press her advantage....

"So, you like these, do you boy?" You ask, teasingly running a finger along the seam of your corset as he weakly struggles on the ground at your feet. You scoff. "You aren't good enough for them. You can't see them!" You boast.

He doesn't respond, and he seems barely present, but you carry on in rushed excitement anyway. The thrill of having power over anything is so great, and to have it be the young Lord Harville so unexpectedly like this... well, who could blame you for adopting such a cocky and arrogant persona as your heart hammers away at your chest?

You trace the pale, bountiful skin of your chest's exposed and bulging cleavage with your gloved fingertips, gloating your genetics wordlessly. A chesty woman standing above such an otherwise powerful man... it feels right. You tsk your tongue at him like a disappointed mother, quite content to simply touch yourself to the sight before you like this after such a long stint without release. Besides, it's not like you'd let him inside of you after all this, or like you can debase yourself with a fingering in front of him. You're happy enough with the breast self-massage.

You feel yourself up and run your eyes over him, catching on the obvious and stiff cockbulge in the front of his pants. You jostle and squeeze your breasts that much tighter at the sight, sucking in another excited breath. The moment your eyes land on it, it starts twitching and bouncing around behind the loose fabric, jiggling and bobbing obviously, as to your utter shock Lord Harville's cock pops in his pants without even needing your guiding touch. Your magnificent breasts have got Lord Harville's dick bobbling and creaming on sight.

"Oh!" You exclaim, completely taken aback by the sight before composing yourself. You bring a dainty hand to your impressive chest and laugh elegantly. "Weakness in the family genes, I take it." You say with a smirk.

Still, as complimented as you are to see him bursting and spurting without even having to loose a titty (a well-needed compliment after so long with just your fingers to satisfy you) -- he still just came in the presence of the lady of the house. Without her permission. You simply cannot let that sort of behaviour stand.

You get down and mount him, sitting on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck to lightly grind your potent backside over his still-hard dickbulge to take full control. The rush of power and supremacy you're feeling is utterly intoxicating, and even if you hadn't had so much wine just a short time earlier, you're not sure you would have acted any differently under the influence of such feelings. You guess the rumours about him being out of the game for so long must be true, then, if this is how he performs -- how wonderful.

"It falls to me, then, to properly punish you." You say seriously.

You sit yourself up into a squat, hovering your fine behind just above his pants' wet patch, and lean forward to place your corseted tits right in front of his dopey and only semi-present face. With that, you pause only momentarily to let him breathe you in and anticipate what's to come, before twisting your body side to side to batter the poor gentleman's face with your tits.

You laugh haughtily and loudly into the empty, echoing courtyard as you deface and humiliate the feared Lord Harville with barely any effort whatsoever, just metres from one of the largest gatherings of important people on the continent -- all of whom could easily see his predicament with only one step outside. The thought gets your heart hammering even faster in your firmly oversized chest, and gets you wetter than anything has in a long time. It's like electricity is running up from your pristine crotch and being sent coursing from your heart to all of your muscles as you twist left to right, dragging his face with the sheer balcony formed by the utter buxomness at the top of the corset and sending his lips and tongue wetly rolling across you.

It seems to have just as much of an effect on Lord Harville as it does on you, because without warning he ends up cumming and spasming again as he sits beneath you, once again fully untouched. You must really have an effect on him, to have him filling his underwear like this.

"Uuuuuhhhhhhhhh......" He groans weakly into your hefty, conquering tits.

Fuck, you're SO wet from this. You just totally kicked his ass. Bonnie Beaumont, the Lady Bonfire, just kicked Lord Harville's ass. It sounds good in your head, so you're sure say it out loud to his titdrunk face a few times, slurring your words a bit due to the prior wine consumption but getting your point across handily. At least, to the extent his brain can understand that cocky announcement of utter victory -- your declaration of ownership.

You rise from where he sits slumped, dazed and dozy, to gently brush at the top of your chest and the ass of your clothes. Once a commoner, always a commoner it would seem. No amount of hunting skill could see him stand up to one of noble blood such as yourself. He certainly won't be getting any invites back to one of your house parties after such a pathetic performance. In fact....

You look down at him and smirk triumphantly, one final time. If he wishes to act the part of a commoner, you'll see to it that he becomes a commoner once more.

"Help! Heeeelp~!" You cry out, adopting a feigned face of self concern and worry as you play the part of the damsel in distress, as if he could ever be a threat to you.

The other guests rush out of the main house to see you standing over Lord Harville, who sits in a slump, dazed and unable to form any coherent words. Instead, the stain on the front of his pants speaks for him, and he is ejected by the other male attendees. You watch as he is carried, mumbling and ranting, to be cast out of your estate's gates. The other women watch with you in shock, clinging to their dresses and corsets and chattering concern for you. You barely notice them. Instead, a single thought fills your mind, keeping your hidden pussy glistening as it repeats over and over:

I just fucked up Lord Harville. I just ruined the continent's greatest hunter.

The controversy spread across the continent fast, going straight up to the top. It would only be weeks before the King would strip Lord Harville of both his land and all of his hunting trophies in his court, telling him that he is lucky to be kept out of jail only for the several favours he had done for the royal family in the past. Such are the connections and power of Lady Bonfire, you suppose, to **** such a powerful figure back into obscurity on an excited sexual whim. But the little man deserved it -- he was certainly far, far less than what you had expected him to be.

You bought his trophies at auction, and set them up in displays around your estate to replace a number of older portraits. At times, you still find yourself gazing upon them, prodding your juiced pussy with your fingertips as you recall the night's events.

Having such a strong effect on such a supposedly fearsome man left a lasting impression on you. It was this event amidst a night of drinking and debauchery that changed the sweet and perfectly-bodied Bonnie Beaumont into the terror of men who swept the continent over the next several years. Lord Harville's private humiliation session would be the first of many carried out by the cruel but gorgeous Lady Bonfire, oftentimes stripping men of their livelihoods once she was done with them.

The rush of power and emotions which she had felt on that night would be something she chased for the rest of time, without regard for the impact it may have on her victims, just as she held so little regard for the unfortunate fate of her first premature victim. Though this event would remain a favourite of hers, to poke at her pussy each time she recalled it, it would be forgotten by all others amidst the sheer scale of the rest of her debaucherous rampages.

* * * * *

...........That, um....

That was really weird. You're awake now, by the way. But that was really.... was it all real stuff? And- and how do you know all those facts from the end of the dream, if it is? It sort of switched from being your point of view, right then, to being like you were talking about somebody you know.

Hmmmm...... the dream mentioned a king and a continent, but you're pretty sure that the mainland's been ruled by a Queen for at least the last couple of in-charge people. Maybe. It's for sure a Queen right now. Maybe, like, the last three of them were Queens, but that's just you guessing. The one before now could've been a King, all cards on the table.

B-but, if it's not real.... your own brain wouldn't come up with something so dirty, right? There's no way....