The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[NPCs]

"If Mistress wishes you to be male for a work, then you are male," Tamul replies simply. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

"No," she snarls, a bit of Noire coming back into play. "I am never male. No more than She Who Owns is male."

[NPCs]

There's a harsh hiss from across the room a bare second before

[Hurt]

[Suffer]

[Submit]

[Coquette Blacquin]

Unlike before, there's no pretense of fighting it -- she screams, sweating and panting as the pain finally recedes. 

[NPCs]

"Did you have something to say, little muse?" The voice that asks that is a vicious caress, a delightful violation.

[Coquette Blacquin]

"....no mistress."

[NPCs]

"Good boy," Tenachka croons. "Vik, feed him that cookie. Tamul, fuck his face as deep as possible. Vansul, keep riding him. Let's see how long his body can hold out, mmh?"

[GamesMaster]

Coquette cancels her therapy session for the day, turning in early instead. She sleeps soundly and long, though thankfully she doesn't spike a fever. Not this night, anyway. 


By a week later, even Cindy is tired of these games. She's forced Noire to stay out for at least half of each session, with the result that the dominant woman has become more and more subdued, more quiet. She stops by the market and picks out a delicate, beautiful flower made from rainbow-colored paper: a gnomish invention, based on some arts from Toukami but made larger, louder, more colorful, as the gnomes like. It's attached to a long strip of paper that makes a good bookmark, with the flower positioned to stick out above the book's pages and become decorative. She folds it into its flat, portable form, and tucks it into her pocket, distracting herself at least a little from what is yet to come. 

Sweetheart has learned to vanish during these times; Cindy and her are currently playing cards in the mansion as Noire knocks on the door. Noire doesn't feel quite right -- sick to her stomach, as is usual, but also... frightened. More so than normal. Usually at this point she tells herself, this is going to be alright, surely no worse than That Incident, and she survived that, didn't she? This is just one more insult to add to the long list of things she's going to get vengeance for. 

But today... she can't seem to make herself believe it. And that? That pisses her off, at least a little. 

[NPCs]

In contrast to the last few weeks, Tenachka is waiting for her in the foyer. And she's not even nude or exposed. Instead, she's wearing a full leather outfit that's skintight and also study enough to qualify as armour. Not good armour, true, but armour nevertheless

"Ah, you're early as directed. Good slut." Rising to her feet, the fiend smiles warmly at Coquette and beckons her with a finger. "Come along now, we've much to do today. We're going to be starting with something of a warm-up, I suppose."

[Coquette Blacquin]

A... warm-up? Oh no. Oh please no. "Yes, Mistress," she says, bowing her head and trailing after, fingers already playing with the hem of her dress. 

[NPCs]

"Excellent," Tenachka repeats in a purr. She leads her muse to the usual studio where... Bright Gods. Are all of those of her? Has she really done that many sessions with Tenachka? Been degraded and used and violated and pleasured so many times? In so many ways?

Their Lady's Delight... her head in Vik's lap, Tamul resting her head on her thigh and Vansul massaging her oil slick breasts.

Cost of Defeat... her body, crumpled and cum-stained, bleeding and broken on the floor as a clawed hand reaches for her hair.

Blushing Bride... the sexualized parody of her wedding dress on her spent body.

Dominance: latex and leather, Vansul crushed to the ground as he slams his cock into her, Vik to the side, bound and whipped

A Good Book... slender legs spread, fingers buried, an aloof expression. 

Quick Snack... prim and proper in a copy of her favorite dress, head straddled by Vansul and her throat bulging with his meaty cock.

Lady Livestock... wearing reins, saddle and bit, Vik riding the dildo attached to the saddle and Tamul feeding her a handful of oats.

Punished with Delight... hanging from the ceiling, hooded and ass filled with Vik's fist, her back, ass and thighs a maze of whip marks.

Service with a Smile... a forced smile, eyes filled with pain and fear, covered with cum and scrapes, offering a leering orc a wine goblet.

Indulgent... her hair brushed by Tamul, her body massaged by Vansul, her feet rubbed by Vik, her pussy filled by a slim marble shaft.

Stone... arms pinned, cock embedded in an obsidian statue shaped like Estelle, the slick, smooth cunt shaped perfectly for him.

Useless... clad in armour, pinned to the ground, as Vansul and Vik are brutally raped by hellhounds.

Tea for Two... an elegant tea service in a cozy café, Tenachka in a lovely dress, her clad in nipple clamps and dildos. 

True Face... naked and sweaty, arching backwards with an expression of ecstasy, a drow cock in her ass as her juices spray out in an arc.

Sullied Faith... clad in a Joyous's robes, she sucks on a holy symbol as two zombies pump into her lower holes.

Dance of Desire... covered in sweat and some ribbons, holding Vansul close as their bodies twist and flow to a fiery beat.

Sweet Stupor... her body limp, her mouth slack, her eyes filled with panic and lust, as a swarm of pixies explore every inch of her.

Her Virtues... a marble statue in abstract, simply lips, tits, ass, fingers and cunt, all perfect replicas of her own.

Hollow Pride... in the shape of a pureblood drow, dressed as a maid as she sucks a male's dick with meek eagerness.

Free Use... cast in bronze and stuck midway in a stone wall, a sign above invites all comers and her holes below overflow with cum.

Gardener... dressed in a rough smock, on her knees in a small mushroom garden as she sucks off a myconid. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

She understands well Tenachka's point as she looks about the room: there is nothing she won't or can't do, no thing too degrading or perverse. She is owned, body and soul, by a devil, and she's willingly, almost happily, serving her dark desires. 

"What does my lady desire?" she asks, voice a bare whisper, eyes full of unshed tears. 

[NPCs]

"This piece is just a warm up for myself," Tenachka explains, gesturing at a stool in the center of the semi-circle of previous projects. "Remove your shoes, free your hair and just take a comfort seat. Face Hollow Pride and... contemplate or fantasize as you will." That position and angle will have her face in profile to Tenachka and Defeat front and center behind her.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Coquette sits, letting her eyes go soft focus so she doesn't have to actually stare at the degrading work. She folds her hands meekly in her lap, waiting patiently. Noire isn't good at waiting, but she'll try -- it's better than the alternatives. 

[NPCs]

Some twenty minutes later, Tenachka sets down her pencil and doesn't pick up another. She studies the parchment in front of her for a moment, then gives a pleased hum. "Well, this came out rather lovely. Come look, little muse."

Given how quickly she was called over, Tenachka must have already had the background completed before Coquette sat down. All the works were included, though they're scaled such that details are scarce. In the center of the black and pastels sketch, Coquette sits meekly and contemplative as she studies Hollow Pride. She's still dressed in the picture, still perfectly socially acceptable (by Alessian standards, not Enclave or Glaley). Most of the detail and attention was apparently spent on her face, each feature carefully, lovingly, rendered in full.