As Tamaska toyed delicately with her pleasure button, the succubus she serviced spat out a rattling moan. The sizzling sensation of riding the last waves of her release intermixed with the constant drive to please the woman was positively delicious. Sharp, demanding eyes ate Tamaska as her mind found some concentration, her fingers scratching lightly along the trolless scalp almost affectionately.<br/>Of, occasionally, a gasp jumped onto her lips as Tamaskas wiggling fingers inside her sex and bottom poked at flaring nerves.<br/><br/>A muffled whip-lash and a “Hoooh..” from the driver signalled they had reached their destination.<br/><br/>Curiously, one could protest against the punctuality of the Barons staff, because barely was the wagon at a full and complete stop before a servant flung the wagon door fully open, exposing the two women to a throng of surprised eyes. There they sat, Bahiyya with widely spread legs in all her exclusive beauty, Tamaska delving head-strong into her sexual treasures like a goblin gold-digger.<br/><br/>There was this beat of awkward silence, only cut by the drowsy, loving moans of Bahiyya who by all visible indications didn’t give a flying Elekk about the situation.<br/><br/>Then, ceremonially, the Baron stepped out, again acting as if this was beneath his concern or contemplation; the servant, who still was trying to get his jaw muscles to react, suddenly snapped back into his role, bowing deeply as the broad-cloaked figure strolled past him, stuttering:<br/><br/>“<i>W-welcome home, my liege.</i>”<br/><br/>Tamaska felt a yank on her chain, pulling her head away from Bahiyyas rather soaked nethers as Emberspike chortled:<br/><br/>“<span style="color: DarkSlateBlue"><b>Fun-times over, you horny devils. Form up!</b></span>”<br/><br/>The succubus regretfully slid her bell-shaped dress down, a healthy rouge colour painted across her immaculate cheeks; A scornful pout made her look both desirably cute as well as dangerously disdained at the thought of not enjoying every drop of energy in her trollish pet.<br/>Tamaska was just given enough time to straighten up and slide her skin-tight shorts before the chain in the goblins hand forced her to follow.<br/><br/>As she stepped out into the court-yard, she was given a better view of her surroundings:<br/><br/>To be expected, no expense was saved to underline the iron-will of the Baron; the gravel road constituted a ring running around a circular patch of neatly cut grass, that grass-circles center adorned with a lavishly decorated marble statue depicting a naked woman reclining across a wooden branch, holding a massive conch through which water spilled across her thighs and into the fountain beneath. Along the gravel path, immaculately tended bushes and flowers add a contrasting colorscheme to the uniform browns, greys and blacks of the cobblestone walls of the great mansion.<br/><br/>The Barons procession of guards rolled up behind the wagon and a score of soldiers immediately disembarked to follow the Baron as he ascended a profusely broad, marble stairway, each side lined with butlers, gardeners, maids and servants of every shape and fashion, each standing attention.<br/><br/>At the top of the stairs, a particularly stodgy fellow awaited the Barons arrival – as the tall, imposing lord came closer, he spoke:<br/><br/>“<b>My Shepard, it’s good to see you. How has the House fared in my absence?</b>”<br/><br/>The Shepard, as he simply was known as when at the mansion, was a tall, imposing man. He was a dense package, sporting a broad, curving stomach that didn’t communicate fat as much as simply heavily built. His broad face was adorned with a big, black, but well-cut moustache that seemed to perpetually cringe upwards in a smirk, and crowned with the same sort of capitano hat as that of the Bruutheim soldiers – the only difference being here that his lavish feather was a spotless white.<br/>He was clad in a grey, elaborately decorated shirt with a black leather vest across. He wore heavy black linen trousers and on his feet he sported some heavy, sturdy and expensive boots made for made men.<br/>Two small, barely noticeable but attentive eyes peered down at the procession as it made its way up towards him – they were so deep-set in his skull they seemed covered in shadows pretty much all the time.<br/><br/>“<span style="color: DarkSlateGray"><b>My liege, it’s good to have you back. Household has behaved just swimmingly, but there’s plentiful of court-cases m’lord must tend to over the coming days… as usual.</b></span>” The Shepard spoke with a deep, authorative voice that in some ways reminded of the barons… just.. much more alive and warm.<br/><br/>“<b>As usual.</b>” The Baron mimicked and provided a curt nod.<br/><br/>The Shepard opened the large, wooden doors leading to the court, but his attention flew to Tamaska, coming in the wake of Emberspike - Tamaska noted that the two exchanged a tense glance, and she knew by instinct that they weren’t exactly on speaking terms).<br/><br/>“<span style="color: DarkSlateGray"><b>And what do we have –here-?</b></span>” The deep voiced Shepard spoke with a hint of amusement.<br/><br/>And then he was gone.<br/><br/>Literally vanished – half a second after Tamaska made this astute conclusion, a small puff of smoke exploded roughly where his torso had been.<br/><br/>And suddenly, the once-gone Shepard stood RIGHT besides Tamaska, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, cooing at her:<br/><br/>“<span style="color: DarkSlateGray"><b>The newest prize of his Lordship, eh? You’re a mighty looker, aren’t you?</b></span>”<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>