Sensual Negotiations

Her lips curled into a practiced courtesan's smile as she tilted her head back, hazel eyes glimmering with false adoration that nearly made you forget the throne's compulsion binding her. For a heartbeat, you drowned in those liquid amber pools, her plush lips stretched obscenely around your shaft as she hollowed her cheeks with serpentine skill. . "Perhaps my sister Yvette could... assist in demonstrating our commitment," she purred, her tongue darting out to lick your shaft. The throne's magic pulsed through her trembling thighs as she added, "Imagine her kneeling beside me, those Montilyet lips worshiping every inch of your holy cock."

The throne's magic coiled through your veins like liquid lust as Josephine's words painted lewd possibilities. "You drive a hard bargain," you grunted, yanking her head back by the hair to expose her throat. Her choked gasp turned to a moan as you spat on her parted lips, the glob sliding down her chin to pool between her heaving breasts. "But if I'm to parade through Orlais like some trained bronto..." Your free hand squeezed her asscheek hard enough to leave bruises, fingers slipping between to find her dripping entrance. "...you'll ride me through the Frostbacks first."

She put her breasts around your cock, squeezing them. "Of course, Your Worship." She says, before swallowing you cock once again.

Josephine's throat constricted around your shaft as she took you deeper, her nose buried in the coarse hair at your base while her hands massaged your swollen balls. The throne's enchantment vibrated through the stone floor, making her moan around your cock as rivulets of spit dripped onto your thighs. You fisted her hair tighter, fucking her face with brutal thrusts that smeared her perfect makeup across her cheeks.

With a snarl, you hauled Josephine onto your lap, her golden chains clinking as you impaled her on your cock in one brutal thrust. Her back arched in perfect submission, breasts bouncing with each movement as she rode you with the precision of a master bard fingering lute strings. "Y-Your Worship!" she gasped, nails raking down your chest as her hips pistoned faster, every calculated roll of her pelvis designed to milk your seed.

The throne's power surged as you slammed her hips down, her cervix yielding to your girth with a lewd pop that echoed through the chamber.

Her golden heels dug into the stone floor as you hammered into her with the throne's magic amplifying every humiliating sensation, her cultured Antivan pleas devolving into primal grunts that reverberated through her jewelry. You chuckled against her sweat-slicked shoulder, as her inner walls spasmed around your cock. Josephine's hips snapped back with the precision of a master duelist parrying blows, each calculated retreat followed by a savage plunge that sheathed your cock in her molten depths. "Every... nngh... thrust must be perfect," she panted, her breasts glistening with sweat as they slapped against your chest, the throne's magic amplifying her movements into a blur of carnal expertise. Her inner walls rippled like a velvet vise, milking your shaft with contractions timed to the obscene squelch of her dripping cunt.

You growled approval as her cunt's rhythmic clenching threatened to undo you, the throne's ancient carvings glowing crimson where your hands gripped Josephine's waist. Her perfect composure shattered into wanton screams when you flipped her onto the cold marble floor, golden chains scattering as you mounted her from behind like a druffalo in heat.

Josephine's tear-streaked face looked up with perverse adoration, mascara running like war paint as you came down her throat in thick pulses. "Pack your sister's prettiest collar," you snarled, yanking her up by the hair to lick your spend from her lips, "we depart at dawn." Her trembling curtsy exposed fresh bite marks on her thighs - the Comte would learn what happened to those who crossed the Blowjob Throne's appetites.