A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM & ~AT~)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Lord Mayerling on 24-04-2010, 15:58:00</h2>
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				Title: <strong>A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lord Mayerling</strong> on <strong>24-04-2010, 15:58:00</strong>
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				In the year 1205 Graf Durlach returned to the homelands in triumph. Under the auspices of Pope Innocent III, Holy Roman Emperor Otto IV led the German contingent of the Fourth Crusade to the Holy Land, only the crusaders never got there. Instead, the Catholics attacked their Byzantine cousins in Constantinople, eventually sacking the city in a most horrific siege which ended in the slaughter of more than 40,000 civilians in the city alone. History would record this event as one of the major events of the Great Schism, but in 1205, the Catholics returned from the Orient in triumph.<br><br>Durlach had been one of the 2,500 knights that had embarked in Venice four years earlier. Many others from his lands were also brought along as foot soldiers, robbing the land of its tenders, and the peasant women from their husbands, brothers, and fathers. As a result, the lands Durlach returned to from the crusade were under productive; not through lack of men, but through lack of population in general. News of Durlach’s return preceded the great train of warriors from the nearby town of Halberstadt.<br><br>Her brother had been forced to join the Graf’s band. Only a handful of derelicts had volunteered for his band, but looking to impress the Emperor, Durlach drafted 65 men into his ranks, more than 80% of the men living on his holdings. When Durlach’s procession returned to Steinburg (the Graf’s castle and home), its number had been reduced drastically to under thirty, and demoralization seethed through the ranks, even as it approached the homelands. To someone with an astute political eye, it could be discerned that a peasant revolt was a potential threat lingering on the horizon. <br><br>Her brother was not among those to return. <br><br>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br>“Your highness,” Pfeffer laughed over his stein, the froth of head sticking to his mustache, “you should really take my advice more seriously. The people need something to believe in, something to make them happy.” He paused, taking another swig, “You need a wife.”<br><br>Durlach’s own laugh subsided at Pfeffer’s words. His face was rugged and worn from the war, but covered by a full beard and mustache that covered his cheeks, upper lip and chin. His hair was a dark brown, and his eyes a grey-blue, alluding to Nordic antecedents. He had the build of a warrior: stout, relatively short, and boxy. “Do the peasants think I’m a homosexual?” Durlach asked sarcastically. Pfeffer shook his head demurely. “Then I have nothing to prove to them, do I?” <br><br>The light from the fireplace made the men’s faces glow and flicker with yellow and orange. “Your highness,” Pfeffer importuned more seriously, “since your return your tenants have lost their morale and confidence in you. You know I would never say it or show it in the open, but here, now, you must heed my advice.”<br><br>“Who’s side are you actually on?” Durlach asked, slowly crumbling.<br><br>“Yours, of course,” Pfeffer answered. “Tomorrow at Mass,” he continued, “I have someone to which I want to introduce you.”<br><br>Durlach was taken aback. “Are you joking?” It was soon obvious that Pfeffer wasn’t joking in the least. “Always one to take advantage of my piety, aren’t you, Pfeffer?”<br><br>The two men finished their beer in silence.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zealously Jaded</strong> on <strong>25-04-2010, 00:32:56</strong>
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				Eva had waited for her brother to come back with the other troops but he never did, she cried for him every night never knowing how he died just that he did. The men that worked on the castle had to be replaced, she had found herself in the employ off the tailor, he was old and his eyesight was going which was why she was allowed to train, who else would keep Graf in the clothing which he had become accustomed to.<br><br>Many nights she would stay up until past midnight, sewing the many items of clothing to sell onto traders who would take them to other towns. Once the had arrived back she wished that Graf would get married since she tired of making men’s clothing for him, she wanted to make a dress or two, she had even started to make a pattern for his future fiancés wedding dress, but it seemed he would never marry.<br><br>Eva was a kind woman barely out of her teens, her brother was her only family since her mother and father had died when they were both younger. She brilliantly red long hair (that she kept hidden most of the time with a shawl), and pale blue eyes, from her Norwegian parents, they had settled here many years before. She had a slender figure, but an ample chest, she was also fairly short barely reaching 4 inches over 5 feet. From her vantage point in the town she could frequently hear rumours of an uprising, but she suspected that it was nothing more then hearsay then true.
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lord Mayerling</strong> on <strong>25-04-2010, 14:55:20</strong>
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				<span class="bbc_u">Day 1 - The Town of Halberstadt</span><br><br>The Cathedral was a modest town design of cut stone bricks built up by caring, local masons. The interior, though rather small, could be turned warm and inviting through the use of an iron chandelier that hung from the vaulted ceiling crafted by Durlach’s own blacksmith, now buried outside the walls of Constantinople. The building also housed the town’s only stained-glass windows, illuminating holy portraits and events to an illiterate congregation, and warming the stone floors with daylight. <br><br>A dozen pews straddled a center aisle, and a simple alter filled the apse of the small church. The front pew was always reserved for the local nobility and gentry, and Durlach and Pfeffer were found sitting together every Sunday leading up to their departure. Today was the first day since their return from the crusade. As a result, a special communion was planned, and a special guest was in attendance.<br><br>Sophia, Duchess of Schwerin, daughter of the current Duke was coming of age and being presented to the upstanding nobles of the Empire. Normally, a lowly Graf would never have been considered for such a pairing, but this Graf had just returned a war hero, and now considered extremely eligible. For his part, a coupling with the Duchess would instantly propel the Graf into the prestigious Schwerin line, even if he wasn’t the Duke’s eldest son, there was still the potential the inheritance would fall on Sophia’s line.<br><br>Seated on the front pew on the aisle, with Pfeffer seated next to him, the congregation waited for the Duchess’ arrival. A choir of boys began to sing from the balcony, and the entire congregation stood to greet the entering Duchess. <br><br>Then he saw her…<br><br>It was the icy blue eyes that caught his attention. Even as the raven-haired Duchess entered dressed in a gorgeously constructed red gown, Durlach could not pull his eyes away from the peasant girl. Her head and hair were shrouded in hand-sewn shawl, her lips were softly pouted; she looked saddened and cold, like a woman carrying a burden. She was very young, but old enough that she should have been attending Mass with a husband. Perhaps he had been lost on the journey. <br><br>She looked familiar to him somehow, but he couldn’t place her. He didn’t recognize her as the unremarkable girl she had been at the time of his departure. Even as the Duchess crossed in front as she traversed the aisle Durlach couldn’t look away. It took Pfeffer softly clearing his throat to pull the Graf’s attentions to Sophia.<br><br>The Graf bowed deeply before the Duchess, and a brief introduction and sycophancy took place before the Mass began. Even as the bishop took the pulpit Durlach couldn’t push the vision of the girl from his mind, but he couldn’t dare turn round and vanquish himself from it. He wondered if the girl would be invited to the banquet at Steinburg that night…a banquet given in honor of the Duchess, no less. If not, Durlach resolved to make sure she was. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zealously Jaded</strong> on <strong>25-04-2010, 21:51:36</strong>
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				Eva attended the cathedral every day like everyone else had in the city. She sat through the sermons and watched the others as they took communion, she didn’t take it only because her family weren’t true Christians they still held onto their Norse beliefs from the old country. She came to the church out of respect for the town and the people who looked after her parents died. <br><br>Sitting in the pew she had her pale pink shawl with tiny pink embroidery around the edge, it had been her mothers when she first mover here. Sighing slightly she wished her brother was here, now that he was gone there was no one to demand a bridal gift she could be easily taken by the first man that wanted her and no one could stop him. Looking round she saw Graf, she smiled as she saw him. It was good to have him back, even if her brother wasn’t atleast if he got wed then people would be happier. There was a beautiful raven haired woman sat next to him, from her position she could see that she had skin like snow and wore a beautiful red gown. It would be nice to make some clothes for her, perhaps she could work in the keep and be a personal seamstress, but no doubt she had her own staff to work on her. <br><br>Sighing slightly she sat through the sermon, saying what she was meant to at the right minute, but she did not feel spiritual in this place. Especially since they refused to get her parents a Christian burial, instead they were buried in the part of the church where the unbaptised babies went or the people who were put to death. The sermon ended after what seemed like an eternity, ‘Good’ she thought, ‘I need to finish some sewing off before tomorrow.’ Standing up she headed outside once the first few rows left the church. Quickly she walked through into town getting back to the small shop, she would be in here until the small hours again, but it would all be worth it when the tailor gave her the shop, she could make some money and chose for herself who she will marry. Or at least that was what she dreamt.
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lord Mayerling</strong> on <strong>26-04-2010, 23:07:35</strong>
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				When Mass ended it was already late afternoon, and long shadows where already being cast on a remarkably mostly clear day. That evening the banquet in honor of the Duchess was to be held at Steinburg, and yet he couldn’t get the image of the shrouded peasant girl out of his mind, no matter what the Duchess’ qualities. Thus Durlach was faced with a severe moral dilemma: involve himself with final details of the banquet, or go after the peasant girl, which entailed with it some kind of explanation to Pfeffer.<br>&nbsp;<br>One choice was obviously safe and responsible, and the other risky, unwarranted, irrational. For centuries before and hence men of thought have attempted to justify why the irrational choice of a man is made with whatever reason they could…other than the truth. Clearly the lower of Durlach’s heads had decided, rationally or not, the potential reward justified the risk. <br>&nbsp;<br>“Pfeffer,” Durlach explained as they walked from the Church into the muddy central square of Halberstadt, “I will be delayed in returning to Steinburg.”<br>&nbsp;<br>“Your highness?” his faithful companion queried. <br>&nbsp;<br>Durlach couldn’t bring himself to lie to his most faithful companion in life and death. “I must find the girl in pink. She must live here in town.”<br>&nbsp;<br>Even in argument Pfeffer closed the distance to his master, and spoke in quiet, rushed phrases. “Are you mad, Your Highness? But the Duchess? The banquet!”<br>&nbsp;<br>Durlach placed his hand on his companion’s chest in a calming gesture. “I won’t be late for the banquet, but I’ll need you to take care of the finalities.”<br>&nbsp;<br>“But Your Highness, I—” Pfeffer tried to extricate himself.<br>&nbsp;<br>“I know it’s an embarrassing situation, but I have complete faith in you, my friend. Besides, the Duchess won’t know.” The mention of her person brought attention to the woman as the Graf and Pfeffer, she and her retinue embarked into two covered carriages and departed. <br>&nbsp;<br>“But, sir,” Pfeffer tried to infuse rationality into his master again after the pause.<br>&nbsp;<br>“Just do it, Pfeffer,” Durlach ordered firmly. “I promise I shan’t be late.”<br>&nbsp;<br>“Yes, Your Highness,” Pfeffer answered with resignation. “I shall obey.” <br>&nbsp;<br>Durlach fisted his companion’s chest as warriors do as a sign of thanks or obligation, and proceeded to search the hamlet of Halberstadt on foot. <br>&nbsp;<br>Like most towns of the period, Halberstadt was constructed almost entirely of wooden structures of one or two stories. Only the foundation of the Church, and the well at the center of the square were hewn of stone. The lanes between the buildings were worn to soil with foot traffic, and the wider carriageway was also dirt, which was more often mud due to the weather. The mud would be tried through an application of sand, which with varying success kept the mud from becoming too deep to traverse. Wood planks were used directly in front of the buildings so that one could between them without sinking into the mud of the carriageway. <br>&nbsp;<br>Unlike the larger towns of Aachen, Rothenburg or Nurnberg, the guilds hadn’t yet come to Halberstadt, so most people of the town were self-sufficient, growing their own produce and raising their own animals. However the reduction in population from Durlach’s draft has plundered the town of its farmers and workers, making the buildings appear run down and derelict. Due to the day being Sunday, no market was held, but even on market days the produce from the surrounding farmland was meager, and the crafts non-existent. The smells that normally filled the town from the small tannery and the slaughterhouse were absent, and the workshops lay silent.<br>&nbsp;<br>Having made sure he followed her departure closely, Durlach was aided in knowing the general vicinity of where she had gone. He began to run the potential scenario through his head: finding the father and inquiring about his daughter. This wasn’t at all uncommon due to the noble’s lands being in such proximity to the town. What was uncommon, however, was that the pink peasant girl had excused herself from Mass prior to the departure of the Duchess, as virtually everyone else had done. <br>&nbsp;<br>He was surprised to eventually stumble upon her at a tailor’s workshop, and in the front, no less. She was still in the pink, handmade shawl; its craftsmanship an allusion to, what he assumed was her father’s profession. Happening upon her alone threw him for a loop, and for a moment he was unable to speak as he was taken by her soft, melancholy beauty.<br>&nbsp;<br>He would have introduced himself in style in front of any other person, even a woman, but her simplicity disarmed him so that all he could say was, “I am Marcus. I am in need of a tailor.”
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zealously Jaded</strong> on <strong>27-04-2010, 01:36:29</strong>
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				She headed down the muddy paths being sure to keep her shoes on the wooden planks. Her shoes were no more then strips of leather off cuts she had managed to sew together to keep from injuring her feet as she walked through the town, luckily her floor length dress covered her feet. The dress itself was a dark brown colour, but a finer cloth then most of the people would wear in town, since she was the tailors apprentice she was given ‘nicer’ clothes in case someone with class turned up at the store, they never did, but there was hope.<br><br>The only thing that marked her different was her shawl, she had a pink and a blue one, which she kept for church on Sundays, and the rest of the week she would wear a brown cotton head scarf that kept her hair from sight. She wasn’t ashamed of the colour but it was unusual for the area, she didn’t need someone asking questions about her or her family. She marked the change in the wind, she would soon have to bring her cloak out from storage and stock up on candles to sew by, she knew her eyes would suffer but the more she worked the more she was paid, soon she could start her own tailoring place or her own house. <br><br>She arrived at the tailors store quickly unlocking the door she headed inside she was looking over the books trying to see what was needed to be done for the rest of the week. Sighing to herself she had several trousers to make, as well as a mourning shroud and half a dozen things to embroider. Trying to prioratise what she needed to do first she heard the door open suddenly. Looking up she frowned. There was a tall man stood before her, his eyes were wide and he seemed confused. “Are you alright Sir?” She looked at him trying to hide a smile from her face.<br><br>“I am Marcus. I am in need of a tailor.” He spoke quietly but she heard him. “I am afraid the Master Tailor is not here presently, he has gone to visit some family in a nearby town.” That wasn’t a lie he really had gone, she was about to turn him away when she realised who he was. “Marcus was it?” She smiled. “I’m Eva, I could help you if you’d like. I am the apprentice here. “Are you after a suit or a piece of clothing?” She smiled warmly for once she felt as if she in control of this place.
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lord Mayerling</strong> on <strong>27-04-2010, 22:54:36</strong>
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				<em>“You</em> are the apprentice?” Durlach asked with an incredulous smirk. This was yet another sign that the labor force of Halberstadt was struggling. Her words also surprised him in that she willingly offered to perform work and service for her on a Sunday. Durlach’s sense of piety and tradition was struck a blow, but yet her manner and confidence exuded a quality he could not define, nor turn away from. <br>&nbsp;<br>“Eva, you said?” Durlach continued. With his plan for having himself introduced to her through her father burning on the hillside, he found himself extemporaneously suggesting the absolutely impossible, “I am hosting a banquet in honor of the Duke of Schwerin. His daughter is the guest of honor. I don’t suppose I could be measured for something befit to such an occasion?”<br>&nbsp;<br>Durlach was already inwardly cursing himself. What he was asking for was beyond possibility, and his demand for her services was going to expire within hours, relieving him of any possible excuse to see her again. “I understand it’s Sunday, and your master isn’t here. What I am asking is probably beyond the realm of possibility. Therefore, perhaps you will take the unusual step of coming to Steinburg, and refitting something I already own to my…current shape?” 
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zealously Jaded</strong> on <strong>27-04-2010, 23:24:38</strong>
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				She smiled slightly as he spoke about him hosting a banquet and asking her to come to Steinburg for a refitting. Biting her lip she was torn between saying no because it was a Sunday and it seemed to be important for her, or yes because she knew it would help her save up some more money. She would worry about the other work tomorrow.<br><br>Smiling softly she looked at him. “I would be honoured Sir to help you refit a piece of your current clothing, since it would take me over a day to make something from scratch.” Biting her lip she looked at him, smiling softly as she looked at him. “Let me write a note to my Master so he will not be angry for not finishing my work.” She quickly got out a piece of paper, ink and quill. Quickly she started to write a small note, before gathering some items she might need. “Would you like me to come now?” She smiled softly, pulling her shawl closer round her hair ready to leave now, her pale blue eyes staring into his.
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lord Mayerling</strong> on <strong>28-04-2010, 02:32:48</strong>
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				For a moment Durlach wasted a thought on how he would sneak the tailor’s apprentice into Steinburg, but then her profession made the perfect excuse. Durlach began convincing himself that there was nothing wrong with what he was asking for. Despite it being unusual that she was a woman in a profession, she was a tailor’s apprentice, and being retained to perform precisely for that purpose. At least it sounded good in his head.<br><br>“Yes, I’d like you to come now,” the playful innuendo was entirely lost on Durlach on a Sunday after Mass. “Your master does not mind of you work on a Sunday?”<br><br>As they walked on the wooden planks back towards the square, Durlach made small talk regarding the vibrant pink of her shawl and the embroidery thereon. He spoke of the festivities of the banquet planned for that evening, and that he hated the formalities of even simple court ceremony and etiquette due to the presence of the Duchess. He also made it known that in the company of others he was to be styled, ‘Your Highness’. He made no mention to what he could call her when they were alone; in his pious mind, such a situation was an impossibility. <br><br>Almost absently Durlach mounted his horse when he reached the town square. Embarrassingly, it hadn’t occurred to him that she didn’t have a horse of her own. Durlach was dumbfounded a moment; it was too far to walk. “Very well, hop on,” he said with a tinge of annoyance, “You know how to ride sidesaddle, yes?”<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zealously Jaded</strong> on <strong>28-04-2010, 18:14:59</strong>
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				She smiled slightly as he asked her about working on a Sunday, she sighed softly. “If I didn’t work on a Sunday I would never get any sleep. Sunday is the only day the shop is closed, I have to catch up on the weeks work.” She blushed, “I attend church every Sunday but I have to work twice as hard then a man does to be seen to be half as good.” She bit her lip wondering if she had spoken out of turn.<br><br>The journey back through the town was quiet everyone had returned home for their Sunday meal. Biting her lip she listened to him as he asked to be called “Your Highness.” Biting her lip she smiled. “Of course.” She replied quietly. <br><br>Getting to the horse she blushed heavily as he seemed annoyed, “Yes I know how to ride.” She smiled, not wanting to mention that she wasn’t very good at riding side saddle. Getting up behind him she tried to get comfortable, not sure if she should hold onto him or the saddle, she had not been riding behind someone for years. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lord Mayerling</strong> on <strong>29-04-2010, 22:47:57</strong>
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				Within a few strides it became obvious that her riding sidesaddle on the back end of a saddle wasn’t going to work. Some sort of improvisation was needed. Durlach had spent the past three years in the saddle, and had ridden over a thousand miles in that time, but none of that had prepared him for riding with a peasant girl. Durlach dismounted, told her to hook her knee round the horn, and hopped up behind her. The saddle was certainly a tight enough fit to be utterly scandalous, and his arms wrapped round her to keep her firmly in place, but there was little other choice than making her walk. The mechanics of riding sidesaddle on a proper saddle without being held in place forbid her from riding alone atop his horse.<br>&nbsp;<br>“If you have to work twice as hard to be seen as half as good, there is little point in continuing in a practice, is there not?” Durlach asked rhetorically. “Look around you,” he continued, “this town…the buildings, the road, even the church, all in need or repair. The land has gone fallow with neglect. The peasants have forgotten how to work.” Durlach was venomous with contempt for those who so poorly worked the land, especially when their own survival was at stake.<br>&nbsp;<br>The rhythm of the horse’s gait ground his hips against her outside hip in the tight saddle. The saddle was designed to accommodate a man wearing leather or chain armour, and thus it wasn’t an impossible situation. Durlach’s solution to this was to hold her tighter to him in an attempt to keep her core immobilized. To say this added a bit of exhilaration to the trip was a complete understatement.<br>&nbsp;<br>They passed through the wooden gates of Steinburg into a courtyard surrounded by still silent workshops, where the blacksmiths and cooks were still just beginning to settle back into their daily routines from the long journey home. They were met unceremoniously by a sad-looking groom to garner the horse. Simply, Durlach lifted the peasant girl from the saddle and placed her on the ground, whereupon he dismounted himself behind her. Durlach spotted Pfeffer and the bishop looking down from the chapel window, but pretended not to notice. <br>&nbsp;<br>“This way,” Durlach spoke impatiently, ushering the shrouded peasant girl inside the keep. Dark, cold corridors greeted them. He took her arm firmly and led her along in darkness, then suddenly they were at an iron spiral staircase, and he was tugging her up. A brighter corridor led to Durlach’s bed chamber, and he threw her inside and latched the door. The impression couldn’t be hidden that he knew this place like it was the body of his lover, and that he knew all the hidden nooks and crannies, as well as its small treasures.<br>&nbsp;<br>It was a prelude to rape, but instead Durlach simply, innocently, pointed out the wardrobe, and ordered her to find something suitable for the evening’s banquet. He added that whatever she picked had to be newly tailored to fit his body, and that time was short. He was firm with her, but efficient; not vulgar or rude. He impatiently waited for her to start, knowing the bishop and Durlach would arrive any moment, and that a delicate explanation would be forthcoming.
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zealously Jaded</strong> on <strong>30-04-2010, 14:41:45</strong>
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				“I work because I am good at it, and it means I have a profession behind me.” She bit her lip looking back at him slightly, his body pressing close against her. “The reason this town has gone to ruin is because most of the men are dead, and the ones that are here are too old to work. Everyone who is left is trying to survive not profit; perhaps if there was more help then it would be better.” She bit her lip looking away from him thinking that perhaps she had said too much.<br><br>Biting her lip she felt him pressing against him, he grabbed her harder. Closing her eyes she let him ride feeling his strong body behind her. Arriving into Stienburg he lifted her off the horse quickly, grabbing her arm he pulled her behind him down corridors and up staircases. Biting her lip she watched him wondereing where he was taking her. <br><br>He threw her inside she nearly fell over, righting herself she walked to his wardrobe pulling out a suit for him, it was black, it wasn’t in fashion at the moment but she had an idea. Walking over to him she took his jacket off placing the black one on him. She starting to pin it in at the back where it was needed and pushing up the sleeves. “Alright, how does that feel to you?” She looked at him. Pushing her shawl off she ran her hand over her forehead hoping that he didn’t notice the colour of her hair, as he fell down over her back in soft red ringlets.
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				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lord Mayerling</strong> on <strong>02-05-2010, 13:54:47</strong>
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				“What does a girl of your age know of a man’s death?” Durlach asked contemptuously as she fitted him. His body shape had certainly changed since he had left for the Holy Land. His thighs were taut from hours in the saddle every day. His core was sinewy with the stress of battle, and his shoulders had expanded and rounded with the wielding of heavy swords. He wondered as she worked him, how she could expand the suit to fit him.<br><br>“I shall need a codpiece as well,” he spoke, looking himself in the mirror. The girl didn’t flinch at his request. He watched her in the mirror as she worked. Her head was aflame with hair, the contrast between her mane and alabaster skin visceral. There was something about cascading hair that made a woman desirous. She knew it, the Duchess knew it; it seemed much like the jocular talk men share about the length of their own penises. “You’re not from this land, are you?” he asked the girl in the mirror.<br><br>She fitted the black leather codpiece over his groin in that moment, bringing the leather thongs round his thighs and backside, and dexterously tying it in the back. Fitting such an item was delicate work with real impact on comfort, so it wasn’t surprising this was the activity going on when Pfeffer and the Bishop opened the door to the room.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Different Kind of Vassalage (LM &amp; ~AT~)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zealously Jaded</strong> on <strong>03-05-2010, 01:10:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“My parents died a few years ago, I saw them die.” She bit her lip looking up at him. “And my brother went to war with you, he didn’t come back.” She took the jacket off him, and there were a good two inches of fabric on each seam that would be enough to accommodate his muscular frame. She smiled slightly as she quickly picked the seams and sewed them up again to fit his frame without it being obvious that it had been taken apart.<br><br>Biting her lip she heard him speak about a cod piece, she didn’t look at his face as she fitted it to him, lengthening the side of the straps. She was taken back by his question. “Oh….um….no my parents were from the north they moved here when my brother and I were young. I don’t remember much of the north.” She ran a hand through her hair absently, blushing the pulled her shawl up covering her hair.<br><br>She had just finished fastening the last strap when the Bishop and another man walked in, she kept her head down, she didn’t move from what she was doing. Biting her lip slightly she stood up slipping the jacket off him to finish sewing on the buttons she had removed a few minutes earlier. She kept on doing her working knowing that if she didn’t she would be subjected to awkward questions. “Why are you working on the Sabbath.” The Bishop asked her, she looked at him curtsying, “I was just trying to finish this item of clothing from His Highness, before his banquet tonight.” She smiled pleasantly. The Bishop seemed satisfied with the answer she had provided, but the other man seemed angry, his face was almost as red as her hair but she had no idea why.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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