Quentin glanced up as she demonstrated the two pieces of outfit out for him, eyes flickering over it quickly but judgementally. Every moment that his eyes paused made it seem like he was considering some minor feature of her potential outfit, but finally she passed his scrutiny and he nodded. "Yes yes, that's fine. Get something for your feet, though. You're supposed to be exuding dominance over these cretins, and not --"<br/><br/>The man was cut off by a firm knock on the door, immediately followed by the deep voice of the head chef "Dinner is ready, Quentin, when you're ready for it." The man already *was* ready, so he rose to his feet and shot a glance toward Zoey. "Pick some tall boots, and put on what you've shown me. No underwear, either, but... "<br/><br/>He paused, his eyes shifting toward his work from earlier. Finally he smirked and wandered over, before picking up the small golden gadget. It looked not dissimilar to an insect with a winder on its back, which Quentin began to wind. "You can wear this. Once it's out of energy then you tell me, but until then you have no option but to cream yourself, time and time again." His words made more sense when he reached toward her naked twat with the toy. The 'feet' of the thing clamped over her clit, and it's 'body'  curved round and pushed up into her sex proper. Worse yet, once he let go the uneven workings inside started rumbling and shaking, to Lord Quentin's obvious glee. "Good... Now go. I'll be in the dining room."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>