Your new slaves

Back in Skyhold, you are sitting once again on your throne with a pair of elves, one sitting on your lap and one caressing your shoulders, both wearing only a long loincloth and a metal bikini. Rasaan comes back, dressed very similarly. "Good news, Inquisitor. The Arishok accepted to form a new alliance, his only request is that you keep me here as a garantee of our agreement. In exchange, he also brought you a gift."

A pair of male Qunari brings a big cushion, with seated on it a vision of beauty. Isabela, completly under the throne's influence and dressed as a pleasure ****, her golden necklace and her boots the only pieces of her previous outfit. She wears a thin cloth top, with two golden bracelets on her wrists, her skirt barely covering her pussy. Her hair are free of her bandana and styled in a braid in the middle back. Her black lipstick and mascara make her amber eyes stand out. "Master..." she says, sultry.

"A most welcome gift." you say, sending the elves to fuck the two Qunari, while Rasaan goes to your side.

You crook a finger, the throne's magic crackling through Isabela's collar as Rasaan's breath ghosts across your ear. "Your power makes even the Qunari kneel," she purrs, her tongue tracing the shell of your ear while her fingers knead the fat spilling over your belt. Isabela's chains clink like broken vows as she crawls across the flagstones, her hips swaying with **** seduction—every inch of progress marked by the wet slap of her drool hitting stone between choked whimpers.

Your laughter rumbles through the hall as Isabela's collar flares with sickly green light, her **** moans harmonizing with the wet squelch of Rasaan's fingers working your engorged cock. The throne's magic snakes through Isabela's braid like anchor chains, yanking her head back to expose the Qunari brand now smoking between her breasts—a gift from the Arishok that pulses in time with your heartbeat.

Isabela removes her top to show her beautiful, big breasts, then she gets on your lap. You gently shove her pussy on your cock.

You slam Isabela's hips down, the throne's magic flaring as her cunt stretches around your girth—shadowy chains erupt from the armrests to bind her wrists behind her back, arching her spine until her breasts jut upward like offerings. Rasaan's laughter curls around your neck as she bites your earlobe, her fingers twisting Isabela's nipples in time with your thrusts.

The throne's magic surges through Isabela's branded flesh as her cunt clenches in traitorous rhythm, shadowy barbs erupting from your shaft to hook behind her cervix—each brutal thrust stretching her womb into a glowing vessel for the Qunari glyphs now burning across her distended belly. Rasaan's teeth sink into your shoulder as she forces Isabela's head back, spitting into her open mouth before commanding, "Swallow, basra," her fingers twisting the pirate's nipples into purple knots that drip with the same luminous ichor oozing from between your ****'s trembling thighs.

The throne's magic surges as you bury yourself to the hilt, Isabela's branded flesh glowing like molten iron where your hands grip her hips. Her cunt convulses around your cock in artificial ecstasy, shadowy tendrils snaking up her spine to **** her mouth open in a silent scream. Rasaan's nails dig crescents into your flabby sides as she chants Qunari obscenities, her free hand slapping Isabela's swollen belly until the glyphs ignite—each glowing sigil pulsing faster as your balls tighten.

Rasaan and Isabela cuddle on you, kissing your neck, your cum dropping from Isabela's pussy.

Just another day in the life of the Inquisitor.