If you noticed that I've already screwed up my schedule, and the early access upload went up on poll day, and this poll's gone up when that early access post was supposed to go up... then... shut up no you didn't shhhhhhhh.
Anyway, more whittling down this week, I'ma pop lots of new stuff on next week, so down to three feels good here. Love y'all!
If Evil, Why Hot? Captured, a political prisoner, and I need information. If that means stripping away your dignity, your pride, your clothes... then I'm willing to do so. My patience won't last forever though, so if you're going to deny me over and over then... I do so hope you enjoy my darker side.
Script found here.
DC Warning on this one. If you're not sure what that is, ask.
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Getting Off In My Office AGAIN? I believe I put down a very... straightforward rule about how we do this. I think it's meant to be pre-selected locations, pre-agreed on times, and carefully making sure no one's going to walk in on us. You're not even my assistant, oh great and pervy office siren, and you're still creeping in here, legs spread at the door waiting for me to get here like I'm the only person who could walk in here.
Upset? No.
Mad enough that you're going to need to make it up to me? Yes, absolutely.
Full tags are on the poll.
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Corrupted by a Concubine I thought the vows of paladins were supposed to be made of sterner stuff, but look at you. You see one sultry fella in nothing but a loincloth and gold chains and you look like you're about to cry with need. You can if you want to, by the way.
I'm deadly serious. Come on, come closer. I promise we'll find a way around any annoying vows you have. Or... maybe I'll convinced you to just hang them up for a bit and retake them afterwards. I mean... someone as inexperienced as you... I can work my magic quickly and then you can scamper off to do the 'hero things' you were here for in the first place.
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Becoming the Werewolf Warlord's Fuck-Pet Oh don't mind me, my housecarl was just showing me the 'tools' you brought with you. A silver sword, a crossbow with, again, silver tipped bolts, and what's this... wolfsbane imbued poisons? I can't accuse you of being ill-equipped. Still, your preparations were fucking pathetic. My pack would've torn you limb from limb if not for my interruption.
I'd imagine that means you owe me. After all, you'd be cold, stone, dead without me. As is, you are scratched up, bruised, worse for wear, but alive. You'll make it up to me in due time, pet. I've been looking for a new rut-slave, and you'd make a fine candidate.
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