The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Zevran]

"In broad, we need to make it appear as little like a punishment as possible. My... Well, the easiest way I know how to do such would be to make it... a show," Zevran says delicately. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

She purses her lips. "Perhaps. I might be able to get into the right frame of mind for that." Who would be amenable to that? Sweetheart? "Maybe," she adds. "Any other ideas?"

[Estelle Emerison]

"If you do go that route," Estelle cautions as she finishes drying off, "then it has to be real. Well. I say that for practicalities really. It's really that..." She huffs a little, scowling at the ground. "Sorry, this is always difficult to explain to those raised on the surface. The drow have a very complicated view of kink. Aside from a very, very small handful of absolute taboos, there are no kinks that are illegal in and of themselves. Nor do we view the practice of any kink with scorn or a lowering of esteem, personal, individual biases aside; if the person doing the practicing owns the kink. If they don't hide it, if they're not ashamed of it, if they pursue it with dedication and passion, then it's seen as neutral or even positively. But you can't flinch. So if you're only pretending to shield yourself from a prank or punishment..."

Zevran winces. "I imagine the price of being caught out in that way..." Estelle shudders, grimacing, and Zevran winces in lieu of finishing his sentence.

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Submission comes easily to me after years of practice," she says airily. "But submitting to a male... would that not harm my standing?"

[Estelle Emerison]

"Not if that's your kink. Well, not if it's your kink and it's just your kink. If you sub for Zevran, sexually, that's very different than allowing him to run your household." Estelle grabs her bag and starts pulling out clothing. "It also makes a big difference-- a good one-- that it's Zevran specifically. One, he's your husband, not just a random, or worse, non-specific, male. Drow, ah, Enclave drow that is, are learning to more openly accept the value and significance of love and... partnership, I suppose." She pauses as she adjusts her underwear, then smirks at Zevran. "It doesn't hurt that he's developed a reputation for lethality and charm already either."

[Coquette Blacquin]

Coquette nods slowly. "So if I were to submit to him, it doesn't matter how subby I got, so long as I could snap out of it after?"

[Estelle Emerison]

"Essentially," Estelle agrees with a nod. "If you can get off during your caning-- or from the aftercare-- that would be ideal. Makes it very clear it's a sexual thing. Your established relationship with him helps too; he's almost painfully loyal to you, but anyone with a brain can tell he's not afraid of you. Far too independent to be broken or simple. He follows your lead, but speaks up or pushes when he feels it best for you. If it wasn't for him being willful and violent, people would be convinced it's a trick of some kind. Homunculus, outsider, something."

[Coquette Blacquin]

She makes a face. "My body can be... uncooperative. Unless you have something that can help?" There are of course drugs that can inflame desire, but Coquette's never experimented with them. 

[Estelle Emerison]

"Me? No. Our wife however..." Estelle smiles, a faint shadow of pain coming and going in an instant. "But cumming would only be a bonus, as long as you clearly enjoy it, that's enough. Or satisfaction."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Then I will speak to our wife before dinner. Any other advice?"

[Estelle Emerison]

Estelle thinks a moment, then shrugs. "Shall I have a healer waiting at your apartment? Or do you wish to wear the marks a while to make a point?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"A healer, please." I am not overfond of pain, though Sweetheart will be delighted to serve. 

[Estelle Emerison]

"Then all I have left to offer are my wishes for your success," Estelle says quietly.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Coquette nods, bowing slightly before heading off to begin making arrangements. 


Preparing for dinner takes a while. Noire struggles to let go; she locks herself in the bedroom, ostensibly to find the perfect outfit, but really to enact a switch. Finally, when Sweetheart unlocks the door, she's still naked, eyes downcast. "I don't know what to wear," she whispers, clearly ashamed. 

[Zevran]

Zevran pauses in his movements but thankfully only for a second or two. Given that he's whisking a pot of frothy cream, stopping for too long would have been cause for great sadness. "Sweetheart?" he hazards gently, turning his head to offer a welcoming smile.