THE MISTRESS' FEAST

[loveskulls]

With the return of the winner of the Fuckfest, the Mistress has formally announced an important and exclusive feast--and decreed that all of her extra-dimensional pets (that means you) are to attend. This news is delivered by the guards, both native to this world and otherwise, who are also tasked with distributing butt-plugs that have the words "Congratulations on not dying of exposure" engraved in their bases.

If you try not to attend, you will be forced into it anyway. It is compulsory on pain of death. Sorry. However, upon being escorted/invited into the great hall of the castle, you are welcomed by a fantastic and bustling scene. Music plays, performers dance, and the smell of food hangs in the air as platters are carried around by servants who take the time to offer portions to each guest. Not to mention the wine! The ambassadors and other guests in attendance are in varying states of undress, but no one is completely naked—and at least those who come close are not sitting on top of the table or anything. There is almost a sense of decorum to this particular event.

At the very head of the table, clad in an extraordinarily expensive-looking set of BDSM lingerie and her horned crown, sits the Mistress. Flanked by two of her highest ranking guards, she laughs and smirks at the chatter of the ambassadors sitting nearby, paying no attention to anyone else except those who have already earned her good graces.

Regardless of your job, you will all be seated all together at the very end of the table, furthest away from the Mistress. Yenh, the fuckfest winner, gets the honor of being at the end, but there’s a lot flowers and statues blocking the view anyway. She's out of earshot for whatever dinner discussions you'd like to have—but her loyal guards, servants, and the less-well-received ambassadors are not.

Once the feasting winds down, the Mistress rises and climbs the steps to the throne at the end of the room. She settles in and only now lays her eyes upon the Kingdom's special arrivals.

"Come and claim your rewards. Don't be shy."

She turns her gaze toward Estinien, the sole person who did not participate in the Fuckfest while it was ongoing, and grins. "You, too."

Once the dinner is over, nothing stops you from milling about to socialize, get caught up in an ambassador's after-dinner sex party, or to just leave with your shiny new prizes.

Comments

[hornymistress]

[The Mistress rolls her eyes. She's been around enough politicians and fancy nobles to know what that was, and she'll have none of it.]

I want a direct answer. Or are you trying to say you need more experience before you can?

[shieldofrohan]

Perhaps, yes. [Well, it's true.] I am yet finding my footing here, I fear.

[hornymistress]

[That may have seemed like the Mistress was giving her an easy out, but...]

Prudishness is no excuse. I expect you to give me a fully formed answer by the end of next month.

[shieldofrohan]

[Éowyn's jaw tightens a little, her lips pressing together. She never has been one to appreciate being ordered, nor does she deal well with being dismissed.]

[Still, she bows her head a little way, keeping her back very straight.]

As you wish, my lady. [There's a tautness to her voice that does make it clear she's not happy about this, but now is not the time to cause trouble. When she's better-armed, maybe.]

[hornymistress]

[The Mistress smiles, turning her head toward one of the servants.]

Check in with her one month from now.

[The servant bows and mutters a 'yes, Mistress.' Satisfied, the Mistress reaches for the sack again. Her hand disappears into it, and she draws out none other than Éowyn's shield. She passes it to another guard, who approaches to present it and the bundle of lingerie to Éowyn. Another joins at that guard's side, and, with care and kindness, pins a badge to the woman's clothes—it says "Adequate Fuck."]

[shieldofrohan]

[Éowyn takes the shield with a little nod, slipping her arm through the straps of it as the badge is pinned to her chest. It feels good, having her own shield. It feels like a piece of home - and, most importantly, it feels like a way to carry Rohan with her, the standard of her country painted in green and white on the shield.]

[Taking a deep breath, she bows.]

My thanks, lady.

[She clears her throat, not moving from the dais. There's one other thing she has to ask, and while she feels very uncertain of her timing, if she doesn't ask it now, she may never get a better chance. And she has to know.]

...My lady, there is one other thing. A small boon only, yet I would ask it of you. Know you what passes in our worlds?

[hornymistress]

[ The Mistress sits silently as she considers whether or not to answer her. Eventually, she offers a shrug and waves a hand dismissively. Éowyn is behaving herself, and it is a tiny ask. ]

I do. The answer is "nothing."

When you give me your answer next month, I also want to know your favorite act.

[shieldofrohan]

[Nothing. Nothingness has never relieved her before. But... nothing. Not her uncle's death, not the coming of the war, not Gríma's rise in her absence. Just... nothing.]

[Éowyn's relief is visible, and she bites her lip and smiles, her shoulders softening as she lets out a breath she wasn't entirely aware of holding. She's sufficiently grateful for the news that she doesn't even take umbridge at the request (order, clearly an order) that follows it.]

Yes, my lady. And thank you.

[hornymistress]

[No "you're welcome" is coming, but at least that keeps Éowyn in her decent graces.]

You're dismissed. Enjoy your slab of wood.

[shieldofrohan]

I shall. [That's a little quieter, but there's definitely something loving in the way she holds her shield against her as she bows and steps away from the dais.]

[She's still smiling. It suits her.]