Have a bath before dinner.

While you await Cassandra's return, you decide to make yourself at home in your new suite.

On the table, you find a woven basket filled to the brim with all manner of Orlesian delicacies. Between all the fresh-picked fruit, artisan cheese, and gourmet chocolate, there's enough food here to feed a family of peasants for a week. Or in your case, probably hold you off until dinner.

There’s even a bottle of spiced wine from the Empress' private vineyard. Uncorking the drink, you forgo the goblets as you draw a hearty swig straight from the bottle, downing nearly half. Behind its golden label, the wine tastes no different than the cheapest swill they served in the roadside taverns of Ferelden. A rather fitting metaphor for Orlais as a whole, you might argue.

Feeling a bit tired, you plop down on the suite's enormous bed. Twice as wide as they are long, the royal Orlesian beds were clearly built with multiple partners in mind. Your entire harem could probably fit comfortably inside this bed with room to spare. Now there's a fun thought.

While some count nugs to fall asleep, you prefer to count cocksleeves. With visions of all the stuck-up nobles you'd soon be fucking filling your perverted head, you gently drift off to sleep.

Suddenly, you're pulled from your slumber by a soft knocking on your suite door. You mutter a disorientated response, granting them entrance. The door cracks just wide enough for a petite dark-haired elven girl to step inside. From her attire, it's clear she's one of the palace servants.

“Oh-excuse me, Your Worship,” she apologizes, green eyes widening as she notices you strewn across the bed with an erection. “Your bath is ready." she stammers, eyes trained on the floor.

“That's odd," you yawn, making no effort to cover yourself. “I don't recall requesting a bath.”

"Lady Vivienne was quite insistent that you bathe before dinner, m'lord." the elf explains.

"Was she now?" you smirk, casually lifting your arm to give yourself a curious sniff before pulling back in mild repulsion. "Well, I suppose a quick wash couldn't hurt." you concede.

"Allow me to guide you." she offers. "It is common for guests to become lost in the Palace."

"Very well," you groan, less than gracefully thrusting yourself out of the bed. "Lead on..."

"You may call me Sauna, Your Worship." the girl introduces herself with a timid bow.

"Very well." you smile. "Lead on, Sauna."

The young servant nods, blushing a bit once she realizes you aren't going to bother putting on any robes before waltzing out into the hall. You follow the elf, electing to spend the entire walk admiring her toned backside rather than any of the ornate paintings lining the palace walls.

"Here we are, m' lord..." your guide announces, reaching the door at the end of the long hall.

As Sauna gingerly opens the door, she reveals a cozy, candlelit room with the biggest bathtub you've ever seen sitting in the center of the room. Two older elven women stand on either side of the gilded vessel pouring buckets of steaming water. Both women lift their heads at the sight of the fat, pantsless gentleman sauntering into the room like he owns the Palace. Staring at you with equal parts fascination and confusion, their eyes inevitably drift to your swinging cock.

Flashing them both a cheeky grin, you begin to undress before Sauna approaches from behind.

"Allow me, Your Worship," she offers, her tiny elven fingers making quick work of the buttons on your tunic. Now fully nude, you saunter forward, bridging the gap between you and the tub.

You start off nice and slow, dipping a toe in the water to gauge its temperature. Little by little, you submerge your entire body in the warm bath, letting out a groan of satisfaction as you do.

While you settle into the tub, Sauna fetches a tiny vial from the nearby cupboard. You watch as the elf uncorks the bottle and pours its contents into the water, stirring them in with her hand.

"Herbal oils," she explains softly, fingers twirling across the water. "To relax the muscles..."

You can feel the oils take effect almost immediately, melting away all the tension and stiffness your body sustained during that lengthy carriage ride. Leaning back against the rim of the tub, you allow yourself to slip deeper and deeper into a state of relaxation. Perhaps a little too deep as suddenly a flurry of bubbles emerges from between your legs to break the water's surface.

"Oops," you smirk, hoping the trio of elves didn't see that. While the older two scowl in disgust, Sauna merely giggles as she hands her fellow servants each a bar of soap and a fresh washcloth.

Reluctantly, the two older elves take their positions directly behind the tub as they get to work scrubbing your hairy back and shoulders while Sauna handles your front, massaging your feet.

"Oh Maker, I could definitely get used to this..." you chuckle as the three girls dote upon you.

Being pampered by three pairs of soft elven hands has a pronounced effect on your lower half as your prick begins to rise menacingly from the water's depths like a monstrous sea serpent.

Even as she begins washing your legs, Sauna can't help but steal glances back at your cock.

"Huh," you smirk, catching her mid-stare. "Guess those herbs couldn't relax every muscle."

Sauna blushes deep red before quickly looking away in embarrassment. "Apparently not..."

"Don't be shy," you offer, parting your thighs. "After all, my cock deserves proper cleaning."

"Well..." Sauna bites her lip, eyes taking in your thickness before she pushes her timid hands beneath the water to seize your cock by the base as she begins to steadily stroke your member.

You drape your head over the rim of the tub as the bath maid's soapy hands glide effortlessly up and down your throbbing shaft, a sudsy lather forming under her surprisingly firm grip.

As Sauna polishes your wood, the two older elves tirelessly wash your back. Speaking behind your back both figuratively and literally, the two carry on a conversation in their elven tongue. Little do they know, thanks to your drink from the Well of Sorrows, you're able to understand every word the two are saying.

"Look at that little slut..." the first scoffs. "Barely a week and she's addicted to Shem cock."

"I mean, it is a really nice Shem cock." the second elf counters with a giggle.

You watch Sauna's cheeks flush at her fellow servant's words. If nothing else, the young woman grows more enthusiastic with her stroking as you buck your hips in rhythm with her thrusting, the cloudy water darkening her sleeves as her free hand reaches down to massage your balls.

"Why don't you use your mouth?" you offer with a smirk. "That would get it extra clean..."

Sauna obeys, leaning forward over the edge of the tub until her head is hanging over your lap. Wrapping her pretty elven lips around your head, the servant begins to bob away on your cock.

The elf's wild ministrations slosh the water of your bath, soaking the front of her thin shirt, granting you a clear glimpse at her hard nipples beneath. With her tongue slurping your tip, one hand rubbing your swollen balls and the other pumping on your shaft, you couldn't help but think the young elf is wasting her talents here in the Palace instead of the brothel.

Having ceased their bickering, the two older elves simply admire the girl milking your cock.

Sensing your impending orgasm, Sauna draws her mouth over your tip, sucking you eagerly, her nimble tongue flitting wildly across your leaking slit, practically begging for your seed.

More than happy to oblige, you feel your body tense as you flood Sauna's mouth with your cum. Her cheeks bulge, but to her credit, she manages to swallow it all without spilling a single drop.

"Fuck, I needed that..." you groan, sinking deeper into the tub.

Your post-orgasm high is interrupted by another knock on the door as your date/bodyguard Cassandra enters the room, hardly registering your little elf party as she bows to you cordially.

"Inquisitor, the nobles appear to be gathering in the courtyard before dinner..." she reports.

"Ah, excellent," you grin, rising to your feet out of the bath. "Ladies, ready my formal wear!"

While your trio of elven servants works to dress you, you have Cassandra assume the position.

For this evening's festivities, you've chosen a crimson red tunic with golden trimmings, a gift from the always fashionable Vivienne. Naturally, your ensemble lacks pants--a clothing item you neglected to pack on this trip to the Winter Palace.

While you struggle with the buttons on your dinner jacket, Cassandra's deepthroats your cock, a steady stream of drool leaking from the sides of her mouth and pooling on the marble floors.

Looking less like a Lady of the Court and more like a lady of the night, Cassandra's skimpy dress leaves her tits and ass completely exposed. Her make up is done in a similarly whoreish fashion, smoky eyeshadow streaming down her cheeks while her purple lipstick smudges your cock.

Finally, with a deep breath and a triumphant groan, you manage to fix the final button in place while simultaneously shooting your load down Cassandra's throat. Your date gulps it down like the whore you've trained her to be, even taking notice that your load is bit lighter than usual.

"Not bad at all," you smirk, admiring yourself in the suite's full-length mirror. Cleaning up remarkably well for a tubby pervert, you look and feel like a million Sovereigns right now.

"Inquisitor, you didn't cum as much as you normally do," Cassandra murmurs, finding the word distasteful even as the remnants of its flavor linger on her taste buds. "Have I displeased you?" she questions, panicking at the idea that she's out of practice--or even worse, losing her touch.

"Not at all, Seeker," you laugh, mussing her dark hair. "I just didn't want to spoil your dinner."

"Bah, Orlesian dinners are overrated," she balks. "Too much salad; never enough meat..."

She wipes her stained lips and chin with a single dainty finger before slowly rising to her feet, seemingly unaware of the double meaning of her words. "Are you ready to leave, Inquisitor?"

"I believe I am," you answer with one final inspection of your grinning reflection. "Shall we?"

You offer the Seeker your arm--which she gladly accepts--as you both stroll out of the room.