The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Jassinth]

"Ah. Asking the dragon to protect the sheep from the manticore," Jass says grimly. "Well, it sounds like we need to gather everyone together to figure out what our options are before we try and pick any of them. Straight to our island then, yes?"

[Shiori]

"Straight around to the home dock," agrees Shiori, looking ahead of them grimly. 

[Jassinth]

"Something tells me that this will be the last 'simple and straight-forward' thing we do for a long while," Jassinth says with a sigh.

[NPCs]

It's almost easy this time, disrobing in front of Tenachka, thanks to the words echoing in Coquette's head. How is she supposed to care about her seeing her naked when all she can hear is Estelle saying quietly, 'I found a memory seal, a deep and strong one' this morning? It's just more sketches too, still ephemeral nothings of charcoal. Being tied up, her hands bound a dozen times around and smooth, warm silk ropes crisscrossing her body, is distracting, especially given that it's Tenachka's hands that brush lightly against her skin. Never enough to warrant reproach, not even close to it surprisingly, but still. 

'It covers something big, in importance and length both. It'll take me some time to unravel it. Days at best, weeks most likely.'

[Coquette Blacquin]

Something big in importance....

Cindy frets, worrying at her lower lip in her mental representation of herself. What could have happened to make it that important? Was it simply the breaking of their marriage vows? Or was it, somehow, worse? Had Tenachka and Claudia enacted dark rituals together? Had Claudia been working on loosening Tenachka's reins? Conspiring to kill the Matriarch?

Noire doesn't bother about all that. She knows what she knows, and that's that. Claudia's already committed the worst sin possible. What does it matter what else she was up to? 

She's learning something important, however: how to share. Today, Sweetheart fronts, in all but the face; Noire focuses on trying to make a face that Tenachka will find intriguing, mostly consisting of various glares, as if she will have her revenge for this petty act of bondage. 

[NPCs]

"Anywhere too tight?" Tenachka asks with such realistic concern. "No? Good, good. We'll try a few as is, then I'm thinking we get you used to wearing a mask, mmh?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"...Acceptable." Her mind is clearly elsewhere, however, despite her best efforts.

[NPCs]

A moment later, Tenachka's face is right in front of Coquette's, a frown on her oh-so delectable lips. "Whatever's going on in there, you need to put it away or spit it out," she orders firmly.

[Coquette Blacquin]

"It's none of your concern," she says coldly. 

[NPCs]

"Then tuck it deeper back; it shows and it's going to ruin today's entire session," Tenachka returns, tone still holding that faint note of warmth but firmer this time.

[Coquette Blacquin]

'Yes, mistress' rises to her tongue, but Noire beats it back, closing her eyes and focusing. She takes back control of the body, pushing Sweetheart aside -- she doesn't like this weakness, this contamination, this eagerness to please that rises up when Sweetheart is allowed to share the front. Feeling more herself, she puts aside her worries as best she can, focusing on the now. 

The boring, humiliating now. 

[NPCs]

The beginnings of a sharp smile shift to a brief pout as she searches Coquette's face. As she says, however, is "better." Pulling away, she tugs on the ropes once more-- thin lines of slippery silk bite into Coquette's flesh, never on but often close to some very sensitive spots-- and moves to her easel to begin.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Noire knows better than to let the pain show on her face. This is... what's humiliating is being the submissive to Tenachka, not really the bondage. It's... not even all that uncomfortable. It just sort of... is. Not really Noire's thing, but not that bad. 

[NPCs]

Given how tightly restricted Coquette's ability to move is, there aren't many poses that Tenachka can call out. Instead, the older drow sets down her pencil a half dozen times to return and shift Coquette around herself. She doesn't shy away from putting her hands wherever it suits her, but she also doesn't grope or even linger with those touches. Far from being sexualized, Coquette is... dismissed, treated like a mere prop. By the eight time, she's not even bothering to explain what she's aiming for or asking Coquette to make what changes she could manage herself.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Her cheeks burn prettily, adding to the effect -- her lips pursed tightly in anger somewhat ruin it, but she keeps silent, letting herself be posed.