His eyes tracked her as she walked unstably across the floor with trembling thighs and hips that seemed eager to roll, but which were being kept quite admirably well in check. He mused that noble girls made good submissives; not just anyone could maintain a posture with that going on. He was impressed too with how well his creation was working, and it was this as much as anything that caused him to turn back toward what little was left of the soup before him.<br/><br/>"You took your time." He didn't particularly mean to blame or threaten her over it, but his glance couldn't help but switch to her again to gauge her reaction. "How is it, comfortable?" He lifted his seat up and shuffled it backward before sitting down a little too far from the table. He pushed his bowl away and waited for someone to replace it with his main meal, but for the moment...<br/><br/>"Sit down" he ordered, with a meaningful glance to his thick-set thigh. He was quite sure it wouldn't help her state, and he was developing quite the obsession for feeding her carnal pleasures - whether she wanted it or not - as much as his. He added an afterthought "and give me your tits. I have instructed those young men to come along after our meal, you will be redressed by then."<br/><br/>From the far door the head chef - the slightly round, bustling man from before - entered. Usually of course this would fall to the younger generation, but tonight Quentin had demanded they be kept well away from his prize until further notice. The plates were cleated, Quentin complimented him on another fine introduction to his meal and requested the rest he bought in. Save the compliment every word made the chef scowl a little, but he agreed regardless with a nod and an "Aye, will do."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>