<i><div style="text-align: center">((Sure thang', have a good one))​</div></i><br/><br/>Almost everyone on the small platform – and half the crew within eyesight – oogled Tamaska; her embarrasing arousal in such a public area only added fuel to the fire. Even the stately admiral provoked a hint of lecherous intrigue by clearing his throat behind a balled fist.<br/><br/>The only people too engrossed in their current orders was the First Mate barking at two sailors, assigning them the task of “throwing that slouchy dog into the brig! Give him a proper beating just for good measure!”.<br/><br/>Bahiyya beamed with self-satisfaction, knowing how effective her little seed of discord was playing out.<br/><br/>“<b>Tamaska.</b>” The baron’s voice spoke with a voice fashioned to rouse revolutions and crush mortal hope.<br/><br/>“<span style="color: DarkSlateBlue">Has a certain punch to it, don’ it boss?</span>” Emberspike braved again.<br/><br/>For a thankful second the Baron peered towards the goblin with his same stone-cold face. But apparently, the man agreed as he let those spooky eyes of his roam across the aroused trolless.<br/><br/>“<b>Yes.</b>” was his dramatic answer.<br/><br/>Then Baron Schwartzhand betrayed a bit more of his origin by one single action that foretold what was in store for the young trolless:<br/>He took a deep inhale through his nostrils – but it sounded in no way like a human sniff should sound: His throat reverberated with a deep, churning growl very akin what Tamaska could remember stray, angry mutts to produce.<br/><br/>“<b>Bahiyya</b>.” He spoke out loud enough to make the other-wise exceedingly confident jump on her spot.<br/><br/>“<span style="color: Sienna">Yes, baron.</span>” She sung, voice carrying a tiny ounce of anxiety.<br/><br/>“<b>Why are my servants’ breasts exposed?</b>” he asked with a voice fashioned to make the Lich King squirm like a schoolboy.<br/><br/>The admiral, the first mate and Emberspike simultaneously shot their eyes onto Bahiyya. The succubus paused a second or two, causing the Baron to say:<br/><br/>“<b>Whenever you're ready.</b>” with a voice, in this rendition, fashioned specifically to get the succubus to speak promptly: People even dozen of feet away felt their neck hairs rise.<br/><br/>“<span style="color: Sienna">She.. she didn’t show enough skill to satisfy my demands, sire.</span>” She tested.<br/><br/>“<b>And what exactly were your demands?</b>" the baron retorted with a voice fashioned to move Teutonic plates and rearrange star-constellations in his image.<br/><br/>Bahiyya didn’t repeat her mistake twice, answering punctually:<br/><br/>“<span style="color: Sienna">She was to control Mister Johannesons orgasm, prolonging his release: But she got too enthusiastic and..”</span>– the succubus couldn’t let a moanful sigh back, obviously remembering how delightful Tamaska had looked all covered – “<span style="color: Sienna">..mustered him to reach it before my order.</span>”<br/><br/>The admiral tugged at his collar again, but this time, intimidation wasn’t the prime reason, based on that arrogant hint of a smile.<br/>For a split second, Tamaska got a brief, terrible sample of her new masters’ discontent. The ever faintest of squints from his eyelids made his glance like razor-sharp lances, judging the trolless harsher than scarlet vicars judging undead. But it was soon replaced with an afterthought – or atleast, that’s what Tamaska thought as the baron spoke.<br/><br/>“<b>Good. She may be inexperienced, but she is eager. It humours me.</b>” He spoke with a voice fashioned to tame Gronns and stifle elemental invasions.<br/><br/>“<b>Admiral.</b>”<br/><br/>“<i>Yes, m’lord!</i>” the admiral spoke in fluent orcish.<br/><br/>“<b>When do we reach harbour?</b>”<br/><br/>“<i>Two hours at most, m’lord. Winds are good and the “Evlogía” reports only light overcast weather. The Castle is ready for your arrival.</i>” The man dutifully reported.<br/><br/>“<b>And the men?</b>”<br/><br/>“<i>Tired but at good health and moral, m’lord. They look towards shore-leave after months in the sky.</i>”<br/><br/>“<b>First Mate Dalton.</b>”<br/><br/>“<i>Aye m’lord!</i>” First Mate Dalton enthusiastically responded with a piggish voice, immediate picking up the label “kiss-ass”.<br/><br/>“<b>I overheard that some of the gunners had misbehaved and found their salary cut in half for this month</b>.”<br/><br/>“<i>Aye, m’lord! As by your most wise and intelligent council, we run a highly successful, disciplinary vessel. Five of our men were slacking with their daily routine an-..</i>”<br/><br/>“<b>A yes would have sufficed.</b>” The baron interrupted.<br/><br/>“<i>Aye, m’lord! I talk too much, m’lord! I’ll immediately cut my own salary in half as punishment, m’lord!</i>” Dalton blurted out, face going white in absolute horror.<br/><br/>The admiral, still retaining his dignity, mustered a sigh.<br/><br/>“<b>Where are they now?</b>” The baron pressed on.<br/><br/>“<i>In their bunks, m’lord!</i>” Dalton managed through tight lips.<br/><br/>“<b>Have Emberspike take Tamaska down there and relieve them of their frustrations, First Mate Dalton. Tell them she is a temporary gift they can have their way with until we reach harbour.</b>” He spoke in a voice specifically designed just for Tamaska: hints of malevolent satisfaction carried on top a heartless intimation of a chuckle.<br/><br/>First Mate Dalton blinked – he would never get used to the ruthless indifference that the lord exemplified when so liberally appointing servants like that. Emberspike, however, did a cocky salute through a million-gold smile:<br/><br/>“<span style="color: DarkSlateBlue">At yers service as always, boss.</span>”<br/><br/>Bahiyya, on the other hand, whined through a pout:<br/><br/>“<span style="color: Sienna">But –baron-, what about me?</span>”<br/><br/>“<b>Worry not, my dear…</b>” – the baron started, the "dear" feeling alien coming from his tongue – “<b>..you’ll get your chance to review my servant in fuller detail later.</b>”<br/><br/>The succubus reluctantly passed the golden chain to Emberspike:<br/><br/>“<b>Before you go..</b>” the Baron initiated, concentrating on Tamaska for a long thirty seconds:<br/><br/>“<b>You are in my Court now, Tamaska, and this court will be your new home. Defy my will and I will rewrite the dictionary definition of agony with you as my example. Submit to my will and you may regret you didn’t find the fortune to serve me earlier than you did. Now..</b>”<br/><br/>The man smiled – a bit. Not much. And the smile carried that powerful malevolence coupled with that inkling of dangerous magnetism.<br/><br/>“<b>Go on, kid. Have fun.</b>”<br/><br/>He did one nod to the First Mate who immediately made a theatre of marching head-strong towards the stairs leading to the decks below: Emberspike slouched lazily behind the man, cigar poking between exposed teeth and Tamaska was tugged behind him in his golden chain.<br/>As the demon in disguise glanced over his shoulder, he said:<br/><br/>“<span style="color: DarkSlateBlue">Oh, you lil’ slut! Barely awakes and you’re already gobblin’ down man-juices. I –like- you, A’ really do. You and I’s, we’re going to have us some great fun!</span>”<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>