Village Funday Might Be Cancelled

Working with the skill and speed you've come to expect from her, Dogsbody soon as Duchess stuffed into a pale blue gown that would be quite demure, it's neck high and its trimming quite modest, if Duchess was less delightfully endowed. As it stands the dress can barely encase and display the sheer amount of curves the young sort-of noblewoman possesses. Dogsbody begins styling her hair with a blue ribbon, and you can't help but think that Duchess looks rather like a naughty present someone's tried and utterly failed to disguise with plain wrapping paper. Her less human qualities are nicely disguised though; Duchess looks like the perfect picture of an oversexed noble's daughter.

For her part, Duchess doesn't seem particularly pleased with the gown. "This is an old lady gown! Daddy can't see any of my boobies!" She huffs, putting a little hand to either side of her fat rack and squeezing in an apparent attempt to burst a cleavage window in her dress. Fuck, she might actually succeed if you let her keep working at it.

You make a disapproving noise. "Duchess, you'll ruin your dress."

Duchess semi-reluctantly releasing her wobbling bosom. The little pink wheels give a sudden creak, and she presses her arms together coquettishly to squish her breasts out at you again, fluttering her long eyelashes. " But, but...! But don't you want me to look pretty, Daddy?"

She's getting used to her new role faster than you'd anticipated. "You don't need a dress for that, dear."

The girl blushes, thick nipples starting to make an appearance. Remind Dogsbody to find thicker material. Actually wait, don't. Despite her easy arousal at simple praise, Duchess continues on with a plump little pout. "How can I be Daddy's pretty girl with one dumb dress? Made for a flatty like the butler?!"

She jumps a little, giving a yelp of pain as Dogsbody definitely not accidentally yanks one of her long ringlets mid-coiffure. "Apologies, my lady. Fingers slipped."

Duchess whimpers, eyes huge and quivering as she looks back to you for help. You can't help but chuckle a little as you cross to her, putting one arm around her waist as you carefully wipe away her pained tear with your other hand. "Now now Duchess. If you can keep being a good girl, I promise that I'll buy you lots of nice dresses made just for a pretty girl like you once we've gone to the village."

The stacked little noblewoman, who has trouble keeping more than one thought going at once anyway, immediately forgets about her yanked hair as she cuddles into your chest with a blissful smile. "Mmm, I have the best Daddy..."

Dogsbody coughs as she finishes Duchess's hair, straightening up. "Yes, about the village. Sir may find that to be a bit....tricky."

This can't be good.

You were right. It wasn't good. It is quite literally very bad, and your one comfort is that you're confident you are actually using the word 'literally' correctly here, because it seems the village has been having something of a Bad Prince problem. And they've taken steps to correct it.

From your observation point a healthy distance away from the walls of the village, you can see a line of travelers being inspected as they pass through. Most are waved in without issue, but every so often you see someone being pulled aside. You can't help but notice some similarities. They all have goatees, most are wearing cloaks. All of them stop to loudly cackle at least once mid-interrogation. One guy had actual horns; that one they just immediately shipped into a little side room that he never returned from.

This village profiles. For Stereotypically Evil Warlock Count Guys.

You run your fingers thoughtfully over your own quite dastardly-looking goatee as Dogsbody whispers at your side. "AsI said, Sir. A bit tricky."

Well, yes. But you're not as worried as you feel like you ought to be. Maybe it's your wicked-ness kicking in, or maybe it's because you're the only person in this world even knows genre awareness is a thing, let alone something you can use to an advantage.

"Don't worry. I've got a plan."

Literally (and again, big win on another proper use there) the moment that the word 'plan' leaves your lips, ac crash of ominous thunder sounds from the totally clear sky, the travelers in the distance looking confused while the guards look suspicious.

Well that's not the best start. But you're still pretty sure this is gonna work.