Your Diplomat approaches you

After your daily petitions, your approached by your diplomat, Josephine, an Antivan beauty with a proper noble education and manners. This didn't stop her however, to go around wearing only a golden lingerie, high heels, golden garterbelts and stockings that accentuate her perfect brown skin and a minuscule g-string that barely covers her sex. She wears nothing to cover her magnificent breasts and the ensemble is finished by gold jewelry and a touch of make-up. . Since you acquired the throne's power, all women in Skyhold ditched their armors and fancy dresses for slutty outfits thanks to your magical suggestions.

She approached to you in private, meaning she has some request that shouldn't be of public knowledge.

"May I disturb you, your worship?" she asks.

Josephine's voice was as smooth as the silk she wore, but there was an undercurrent of urgency beneath her polished demeanor. You leaned back in your throne, the wood creaking under your weight, and waved a greasy hand for her to proceed. "Speak, my dear diplomat," you said, your mouth full of chicken. Morrigan, still kneeling between your legs, paused to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand before returning to her task, her eyes never leaving yours with a mixture of resentment and submission.

Josephine's voice carried an undercurrent of urgency as she began, "Your Worship, I've encountered a... delicate situation. My efforts to restore my family's trade in Orlais have hit a snag. The couriers I sent to Val Royeaux, carrying the necessary documents, were murdered before they could reach their destination. The documents were destroyed, and now my family's interests are at risk." She paused, her gaze steady but her tone laced with concern. "Leliana discovered that a comte in Val Royeaux claims to know who orchestrated these killings. He's willing to share this information, but only if you, personally, meet with him."

You wiped the grease from your mouth with the back of your hand, the chicken leg in your other hand dangling carelessly as you considered Josephine's words. "A comte, you say? Thinks he's important enough to demand an audience with me?" You chuckled, the sound deep and guttural, as you leaned forward, your cock still in Morrigan's mouth. She gagged slightly but didn't pull away, her eyes locked on yours with a mix of resentment and fear. "Well, isn't that quaint."

Josephine's golden jewelry clinked softly as she leaned forward, her cleavage practically spilling into your lap. Her breath hitched when your meaty hand squeezed her exposed breast, the throne's magic making her arch into the touch.

"And why," you growled, thumb circling her nipple until it hardened like a pebble, "should I dirty my boots with Orlesian schemers?" Josephine's lips parted in a moan that sounded suspiciously genuine as she straddled your lap, the heat of her bare cunt searing through your trousers.

Her hips ground against your growing erection with practiced precision, the dampness from her exposed slit staining your thigh. "Because," she whispered hotly in your ear, teeth grazing the lobe as her manicured nails dug into your paunch, "the Comte's estate houses artifacts that could triple the throne's... influence." Her tongue traced the shell of your ear while her free hand guided yours between her legs, revealing how thoroughly soaked she was despite the throne's compulsion.

Your fingers tangled in Josephine's raven hair as she slid to her knees with practiced grace, the golden chains around her neck jingling like coins in a whore's purse. "Let me handle the Orlesian hens," she murmured against your bulge, breath warm through the fabric as her tongue outlined your cockhead. "They'll spread their legs faster than their mouths if I whisper of your... divine endowment." Her lips closed around you through the trousers, kissing enough to make your balls tighten.

She made some really compelling argument, gut you weren't really sure it would be wise to expend resources with this, when Josie decided to sweet the deal even more.

As Josephine's lips wrapped around you, her golden lingerie glinting in the dim light, you leaned back in the Blowjob Throne, the wood groaning under your bulk. The chamber was thick with the scent of sex and corruption, the air heavy with the weight of your power. Morrigan, dismissed with a wave of your hand, retreated into the shadows, her eyes blazing with a silent fury, but she knew better than to defy you. Josephine, on the other hand, was a different story. Her mouth worked you with a practiced precision, her breasts pressed together, creating a warm, inviting haven for your cock.

As Josephine's lips continued their relentless **** on your ego—and your cock—you couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. The way she serviced you, her golden lingerie glinting in the dim light, was a testament to the power you wielded. Even the most prideful of souls bent the knee when faced with your authority, and your throne seemed to hum with dark energy, as if feeding off the submission it demanded.