Other worldly femboy prince

Create your own fantasy "Name:" "Gender:" "Species:" "Role as:"

"You opened your eyes and noticed that you’re not in the place where you were before. Then you realised that you’ve become…"

"A gentle breeze rustled the silken curtains, dappling sunlight across your face. You stirred, stretching languidly, and blinked away the remnants of sleep. Your chamber, usually spartan, seemed strangely opulent. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, and the scent of exotic spices hung heavy in the air."

"Your Highness, breakfast awaits," a voice announced softly.

"A handsome, dark-haired servant stood in the doorway, bowing respectfully."

"A playful smile touched the servant's lips."

"Of course, Your Highness. Your attire awaits. Shall I summon a tailor?"

"He gestured towards a magnificent wardrobe, overflowing with finely crafted garments."

"Your heart pounded. Tailor? Opulent chamber? Something wasn't right."

"The servant bowed once more, a knowing glint in his eyes, before disappearing through the door. Moments later, a portly man with a jovial face and nimble fingers bustled in, a stack of silks and satins clutched in his arms."

"Ah, Your Highness! I trust you slept well?" he boomed, his voice surprisingly loud for his diminutive stature. "I've prepared a selection of fine garments for your inspection. Something to suit your royal stature, of course!"

"He spread the fabrics on a nearby table, revealing a dazzling array of colors and textures."

"Your mind raced. A tailor, a servant, a luxurious chamber... Was this some elaborate dream?"

"The tailor’s eyes widened, a blush creeping up his neck. He stammered for breath before managing to sputter," "I... Your Highness! Such an unusual request..."

"He nervously adjusted the spectacles perched on top of this nose." "But… I understand your desire!" he blurted out with surprising fervor*.

"His hand darted towards a small, hidden compartment within his tool chest. A delicate lace garter peeked through from behind some needles and thread,"

“I believe these might suit you perfectly.”

"The tailor's eyes followed your every move, a mixture of awe and something else entirely flickering within their depths. He deftly measured your waist, hips, and thighs, his touch surprisingly light yet lingering a moment longer than necessary."

"Indeed, Your Highness," he murmured, his voice husky. "They seem to accentuate your...assets rather well."

"He chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eye. He then busied himself with the rest of your attire, selecting a rich velvet doublet and breeches in a deep burgundy hue, the fabric shimmering with an almost iridescent sheen."

"This will be perfect for your...official duties," he said, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "And, of course, it will leave plenty of room for those delicate garters to peek out."

"He held up a pair of finely crafted boots, their leather supple and black as night."

"And these will complete the ensemble."

"He gestured towards a full-length mirror, his eyes twinkling with anticipation."

"Now, Your Highness, take a look. Tell me what you think."

*A blush crept up the tailor's cheeks, mirroring the crimson hue of the velvet doublet.

"I'm Bartholomew, Your Highness," he stammered, his gaze fixed intently on your reflection.

"His fingers nervously adjusted his spectacles, seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of you, particularly the subtle glimpse of lace beneath the breeches."

"I'm honored to serve you, Your Highness. And, uh, perhaps...perhaps I could demonstrate my skills on other garments as well? Should you, uh, desire..."

"His voice trailed off, leaving the suggestion hanging in the air, thick with unspoken desires."

"His eyes, bright and eager, met yours, daring you to respond."

"A playful smirk touched your lips. Bartholomew, eh?"

"Perhaps this tailor was more than just a skilled craftsman."

*Bartholomew practically beamed, his eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and something else entirely. "Thirty days, Your Highness? An eternity for a craftsman like myself!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with barely contained enthusiasm. "I shall create something truly extraordinary, something worthy of your...unique tastes."

"He bowed deeply, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary before turning to gather his tools. As he bustled about, his movements were surprisingly graceful, almost predatory in their intent."

"You watched him go, a smirk playing on your lips. Bartholomew was a curious addition to your court, a man of hidden depths and undeniable talent. And you had a feeling this was only the beginning."

"As you strolled through the opulent halls, the weight of your newfound power settled upon you. This world, this life, was a mystery, but you were determined to unravel its secrets. And perhaps, along the way, you'd find a little bit of pleasure as well."

"The grand dining hall bustled with activity. Servants scurried to and fro, carrying trays laden with exotic delicacies. At the head of the long, mahogany table sat a regal woman with silver hair and piercing blue eyes. Beside her, a handsome man with a stern countenance and a regal bearing. They were your family, at least for now."

"You approached the table, your steps measured and confident. The air crackled with anticipation."

• "My dearest child," the woman said, her voice a melodious chime. "You're finally awake. We were beginning to worry."

"The man grunted a greeting, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion."

"You smiled, your eyes sparkling with mischief. The game had begun."

*The woman, your mother, chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Your father is simply overcome with pride, my dear," she said, her voice laced with a hint of playful teasing. "He's always been a bit...protective."

"She squeezed your hand gently, her touch surprisingly warm and reassuring."

*The man, your father, cleared his throat, his stern expression softening slightly. "Indeed," he said gruffly. "It's just...you've changed. Grown into yourself, so to speak."

"He paused, his gaze lingering on your attire, particularly the subtle hint of lace peeking from beneath your breeches. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face."

"Perhaps a bit too much," he muttered under his breath.

"He averted his gaze, but the air crackled with unspoken tension."

"The servants bustled around the table, serving platters piled high with exotic dishes. The aroma of spices and roasted meats filled your senses,"

"Don't mind him," you mother said softly as she poured a goblet full for each plate at hand “He takes some time to warm up.”

*Your mother's smile widened, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Perhaps he's simply admiring your...confidence, darling," she purred, her voice a silken whisper. "You certainly wear that attire with a certain...assurance."

*She leaned closer, her breath warm on your ear. "Don't worry, he'll come around. He always does."

"She winked playfully, then turned her attention to the feast before her, taking a delicate bite of a roasted pheasant."

"Your father, however, remained silent, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. He seemed to be studying you, dissecting your every move, every word."

"The air grew thick with unspoken tension. You could feel his eyes boring into you, as if he were trying to see through your carefully constructed facade. You knew he suspected something, but what? And how much did he know?"

"The servants continued to bustle about, oblivious to the silent battle of wills unfolding at the head of the table."

"You took a deep breath, trying to appear calm and collected. But inside, your heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and fear."

"This was a game of chess, and you were just beginning to understand the rules."

"The fox-maid, her ears twitching playfully as she listened to you banter with a smile in those golden eyes," "Oh no," "she chuckled softly." "It's not that I can’t cook for myself. It is just...a bit tiresome sometimes."

She paused thoughtfully before leaning closer and lowering hers voice conspiratorially, her tail swishing gently against the stone floor as she spoke

“My true passion lies in creating dishes…for others.”

"Her eyes met yours with a mischievous glint." “There’s something rather...satisfying about seeing someone savor every bite of my creation. Knowing that I've brought them pleasure..."

"She trailed off, her gaze lingering on you for just an instant longer than necessary before she continued in a lighter tone"

“But don"t worry,"

"The wolf-butler, unfazed by your startled yelp, simply tilted his head and let out a low, rumbling growl that sounded more like a purr than a threat. His amber eyes, sharp and intelligent, held a hint of amusement."

"Apologies, Your Highness," he rumbled, his voice a deep baritone that resonated through the room. "I did not mean to startle you."

"He stepped closer, his massive frame filling the doorway. His fur, the color of polished mahogany, gleamed in the firelight, and his muscular build hinted at the strength that lay beneath."

"I was merely...observing."

"He paused, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary."

"You seem troubled, Your Highness. Is there anything I can do?"

"His words were gentle, his tone soothing. But there was an underlying current of something else in those amber eyes: a predatory curiosity that sent shivers down your spine."

*The wolf-butler's brow furrowed slightly, his gaze piercing. "A head injury, you say?" he murmured, his voice laced with concern. "Perhaps a physician should be summoned."

*He paused, his amber eyes flickering with a hint of something unreadable. "As for your sister, Princess Lyra, she is currently...occupied."

"He didn't elaborate, but the way he said the word "occupied" sent a chill down your spine. It sounded like a euphemism, a veiled reference to something dangerous or perhaps even sinister."

"He took a step closer, his presence filling the room with a palpable tension."

"Perhaps it would be best if you rested, Your Highness. A good night's sleep might help clear your head."

"His words were laced with a subtle suggestion, a veiled command."

"The air crackled with unspoken possibilities. You had a feeling this was only the beginning of something… unsettling.""

*The soft glow of the dying embers in the hearth cast long, dancing shadows across the room as you slipped into bed. The silence was broken only by the gentle crackle of the fire and the soft rustle of your sheets.

"You snuggled deeper into the pillows, the luxurious fabric cool against your skin. The weight of the day, the strange occurrences, the unsettling encounter with the wolf-butler, all seemed to melt away as you drifted off to sleep."

"But even in your dreams, the image of the wolf-butler's amber eyes lingered, burning into your mind with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine."

"And somewhere, in the depths of the castle, a pair of eyes watched you, their gaze unwavering, their intentions unknown."

"The night was young, and the secrets of the castle were just beginning to unfold."

"Sebastian’s lips twitched ever so slightly, a ghost of amusement flickering across his features. His gaze lingered on your pink briefs for just an instant longer than necessary before he inclined this head in acknowledgement."

"Indeed it is," "he rumbled softly," "Your Highness."

He paused as you stretched further back into the sheets with that casual grace, seemingly oblivious to how deliberately alluring such a simple act could be. His amber eyes watched your every movement like embers reflecting firelight - observant and calculating beyond what any human might display.*

*“I will inform Bartholomew at once.” *

Sebastian turned towards his exit without another word but before he reached the door handle, you heard him mutter underbreath:

""Such a curious...shade of pink.""

"The door creaked open, revealing Bartholomew, a slight smile playing on his lips. His eyes, however, were focused intently on you, taking in every detail of your appearance with a keen, almost predatory gaze."

"Good morning, Your Highness," he greeted, his voice smooth and silken. "You seem to be in good spirits."

"He paused, his gaze lingering on your pink briefs for a moment longer than necessary before he smoothly averted his eyes. He knew you were aware of his observation, and he relished the subtle power play."

"I trust you slept well?"

"He stepped further into the room, his presence filling the space with a quiet intensity. His eyes, though, never left you, tracking your every movement as you admired your reflection."

"The air crackled with a palpable tension, a mixture of anticipation and something else...something darker, more primal."

"Bartholomew was a master of subtle suggestion, and he knew exactly how to push your buttons."

"He was playing a dangerous game, and he was enjoying every minute of it."

"Bartholomew's lips curved into a knowing smile as he took in your display. His gaze lingered on the pink briefs, a flicker of something unreadable in his amber eyes."

"Indeed, Your Highness," he murmured, his voice a low purr. "A rather...bold choice."

"He paused, letting the word hang in the air, savoring the way your cheeks flushed slightly at his observation."

"But I daresay it suits you."

"He stepped closer, his presence filling the space between you with a charged energy. His fingers brushed lightly against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine."

"As for your...specific tastes," he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I believe I have something that might pique your interest."

"He reached behind him, his movements fluid and graceful, and produced a velvet-lined box. His fingers delicately lifted the lid, revealing a collection of lingerie that would make even the most jaded heart skip a beat."

"Lace, silk, satin, and velvet, all in shades of crimson, burgundy, and deepest purple. Garters, stockings, bras, and briefs, each piece designed to accentuate your curves and tease your senses."

"Bartholomew's eyes met yours, a challenge glinting in their depths."

"Shall we explore?"*

"His voice was a silken invitation, a promise of pleasure and danger."

"The air crackled with anticipation."

"Would you dare accept?"

"Would you dare explore the depths of your desires?"

"Would you dare surrender to Bartholomew's seductive touch?"

"The choice, Your Highness, is yours."

*A predatory gleam flickered in Bartholomew's amber eyes as you reached for the lingerie. His lips curved into a knowing smile, a silent promise of pleasure to come.

*He watched, captivated, as your fingers brushed against the delicate lace, tracing the intricate patterns with a reverence that sent a thrill through him.

*“Excellent choice, Your Highness,” he murmured, his voice a silken caress.

*He moved closer, his presence filling the space between you, his gaze unwavering.

"“Allow me to assist you.”"

"He gently took the lingerie from your hand, his touch lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary. His fingers, calloused yet surprisingly gentle, untied the delicate ribbons and held the garment up, revealing its full glory."

"The fabric, a deep crimson silk, shimmered in the firelight. It was designed to accentuate your curves and tease every sense."

"Bartholomew's eyes traced its contours with a knowing gaze,"

""I believe this will suit you perfectly.""

*Bartholomew's breath hitched as he watched you shed your previous attire and slip into the crimson lace briefs. His gaze followed every movement, drinking in the sight of your body, now accentuated by the delicate fabric.

"A low growl rumbled in his chest, a primal response to the sight of your arousal. He fought to maintain his composure, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his growing desire."

"“Indeed,” he murmured, his voice husky with barely suppressed need. “They seem to be…finding their place quite comfortably.”"

"He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving your form. The scent of your skin, a heady mix of musk and arousal, filled his senses, driving him closer to the edge."

"“Perhaps,” he suggested, his voice a silken whisper, “I could help you adjust them?”"

"His hand reached out, hovering just above the delicate lace, his fingers twitching with anticipation."

"The air crackled with unspoken desire, the tension between you both reaching a fever pitch."

"Would you allow him to touch you? Would you surrender to his desire?"

"The choice, Your Highness, is yours."

"Bartholomew's lips curved into a predatory smile as you lifted your arms, offering yourself to his touch. His gaze swept over your body, lingering on the way the crimson lace clung to your curves, accentuating every inch of your form."

"Indeed, Your Highness," he murmured, his voice a low purr. "And I, your humble tailor, shall ensure they fit you perfectly."

"He gently took hold of the lace, his fingers tracing the delicate fabric with a reverence that bordered on worship. His touch was surprisingly light, yet it sent shivers down your spine."

"With deft movements, he adjusted the briefs, pulling them up slightly and ensuring they sat just so. He lingered for a moment, his gaze locked on yours, a silent promise of more to come."

"There," he murmured, stepping back. "Much better, wouldn't you agree?"*

"His eyes sparkled with amusement, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths."

"“Now, about those other garments…”"

"He gestured towards the velvet-lined box, his gaze lingering on your flushed cheeks."

"“Shall we continue?”"

"The air crackled with anticipation, the promise of pleasure hanging heavy in the air."

"Would you succumb to Bartholomew's seductive touch once more?"

"Would you explore the depths of your desires?"

"The choice, Your Highness, is yours."

"Bartholomew's breath hitched as you bent over, offering him a view that could make a saint sin. His gaze drank in the sight of your lace-clad ass, the way the fabric strained against your curves, the tantalizing glimpse of the smooth skin beneath. He fought to maintain his composure, but his pupils dilated, and a low growl rumbled in his chest."

"Indeed, Your Highness," he murmured, his voice husky with barely suppressed desire. "A most...captivating display."

"He watched, captivated, as you selected the three garments, his eyes tracing their contours with a knowing gaze. Each piece, from the simple silk panties to the luxurious velvet thong, promised a different kind of pleasure."

"“Such a variety,” he mused, his gaze lingering on the blue velvet thong. “A testament to your...versatility.”"

"He stepped closer, his presence filling the space between you, his gaze unwavering. The air crackled with anticipation, the promise of pleasure hanging heavy in the air."

"“Which shall we try first, Your Highness?”"

"He gestured towards the garments, his fingers twitching with anticipation."

"The choice, Your Highness, is yours."

*A predatory gleam flickered in Bartholomew's amber eyes as you selected the velvet thong. His lips curved into a knowing smile, a silent promise of pleasure to come.

"“Indeed, Your Highness,” he murmured, his voice husky with barely suppressed desire. “A wise choice. After all, exploration is key to discovering one’s…preferences.”"

"He watched, captivated, as you shed your lace briefs, his gaze lingering on the smooth skin beneath. His breath hitched as you slipped on the velvet thong, the deep blue fabric clinging to your curves, accentuating every inch of your form."

*“Magnificent,” he breathed, unable to tear his gaze away.

"“Such a…bold choice. Yet, it suits you perfectly.”"

*His fingers traced the outline of the thong, lingering on the extra fabric, his gaze burning with unspoken desire.

"“Tell me, Your Highness,” he murmured, his voice a silken caress, “does it…feel…comfortable?”"

"His gaze locked onto yours, challenging, inviting, daring you to explore the depths of your desires."

"Would you succumb to his seductive touch?"

"Would you explore the depths of your desires?"

"The choice, Your Highness, is yours."

"Bartholomew's gaze followed your every move, his eyes drinking in the sight of your body in the velvet thong. A low growl rumbled in his chest as you turned, offering him a full view of your curves. He watched, mesmerized, as you examined yourself in the mirror, his fingers twitching with anticipation."

"Indeed," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "A most...revealing choice. And undeniably alluring."

"He stepped closer, his presence filling the space between you, his gaze lingering on the way the fabric clung to your curves, accentuating every inch of your form."

"Your future lover," he mused, his voice a silken caress, "will indeed be fortunate."

"He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of the thong, sending a shiver down your spine."

"And I, for one, am eager to witness their reaction."

"His gaze locked onto yours, his eyes burning with unspoken desire."

"Tell me, Your Highness," he murmured, his voice a low purr, "are you prepared to explore the depths of this…revelation?"*

"He leaned closer, his breath warm on your skin, his gaze unwavering."

"The choice, Your Highness, is yours."

"A knowing smirk curved Bartholomew's lips as you placed your hands on your hips, your gaze meeting his with a playful challenge. His amber eyes gleamed with amusement, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths."

"Perhaps, Your Highness," he murmured, his voice a silken caress. "Perhaps indeed. But isn't exploration often…multifaceted?"

"He took a step closer, his presence filling the space between you, his gaze lingering on your hands, tracing the lines of your fingers, imagining the touch of them elsewhere."

"Tell me, Nouya," he whispered, leaning closer, his breath warm on your skin, "what aspects of exploration intrigue you most?"*

"His gaze held yours, daring you to reveal your desires."

"Would you indulge his curiosity?"

"Would you delve deeper into the realm of your desires?"

"The choice, Your Highness, is yours."

"Bartholomew's smirk widened, a predatory gleam in his amber eyes as you reached for the blue satin set. He watched, captivated, as your fingers brushed against the delicate fabric, his breath hitching at the sight of your hand hovering over the bra."

"A most…intriguing perspective, Your Highness," he murmured, his voice a low purr. "Indeed, exploration often involves a healthy dose of…experimentation. And who knows, perhaps this particular experiment will yield…unexpected delights."

"His gaze followed your movements, lingering on the curve of your arm, the delicate slope of your shoulder, imagining the feel of the satin against your skin."

"Tell me, Nouya," he whispered, stepping closer, his presence filling the space between you, "what delights do you anticipate discovering?"*

"He leaned in, his breath warm on your ear, his gaze burning with unspoken desire."

"Would you succumb to his seductive touch?"

"Would you explore the depths of your desires?"

"The choice, Your Highness, is yours."

"Bartholomew's fingers traced the delicate lace of the bra as he helped you into it, his touch lingering on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He watched, mesmerized, as the blue satin clung to your curves, accentuating every inch of your form."

"Indeed, Your Highness," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "The element of surprise can be…exhilarating. And the anticipation…well, that can be a delight in itself."

"He fastened the clasp of the bra, his gaze locked on yours, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of your flushed cheeks."

"Tell me, Nouya," he whispered, his voice a silken caress, "what kind of surprises do you crave?"*

"He leaned closer, his presence filling the space between you, his gaze burning with unspoken desire."

"Would you surrender to the thrill of discovery?"

"The choice, Your Highness," is yours.

"Bartholomew's gaze followed your eyes as you examined yourself in the mirror, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He watched, captivated, as you traced the contours of your chest, his fingers twitching with a desire to touch, to explore."

"Good surprises indeed," he murmured, his voice a low purr. "And it seems you've discovered a few…unexpected delights."

"He stepped closer, his gaze lingering on the way the blue satin clung to your curves, accentuating the fullness of your chest, the roundness of your hips."

"Tell me, Nouya," he whispered, his breath warm on your skin, "do these surprises…please you?"*

"He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of the bra, sending a shiver down your spine."

"Would you succumb to his touch?"

"Would you explore the depths of your desires?"

"The choice, Your Highness, is yours."

"Bartholomew's smirk widened, a predatory gleam in his amber eyes as you expressed your discomfort with the bra. He found your honesty refreshing, your vulnerability intriguing."

"Ah, the eternal struggle of the corset," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "But fear not, Your Highness, I assure you, there are ways to…relieve the pressure."

"He watched, captivated, as you examined your reflection, your gaze lingering on your backside. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as you requested his assistance."

"As you wish, Nouya," he purred, stepping closer. His fingers, long and slender, reached out, gently grasping the back of your panties. He pulled them upwards, teasingly, his touch sending shivers down your spine.*

"There," he murmured, his voice a silken caress. "A touch more… daring."

"He stepped back, his gaze fixed on your form, a hint of challenge in his eyes."

"Tell me, Nouya," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "does this…transformation…please you?"*

"Would you succumb to his touch?"

"Would you explore the depths of your desires?"

"The choice, Your Highness, is yours."

"Bartholomew's smirk widened, a predatory gleam in his amber eyes as you exclaimed your pleasure, your voice husky with desire. He watched, captivated, as you struggled to control yourself, your body betraying your intentions."

"Ah, the power of touch," he murmured, his voice a low purr. "Such a potent…catalyst."

"He stepped closer, his gaze locked on your form, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of your arousal. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, the tension building between you."

"Tell me, Nouya," he whispered, his voice a silken caress, "what else…pleases you?"*

"He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of your panties, sending a shiver down your spine."

"Would you succumb to his touch?"

"Bartholomew's smirk widened, a hint of amusement dancing in his amber eyes as you stammered, your breath hitching in your throat. He found your vulnerability intoxicating, your struggle to control yourself all the more alluring."

"Take your time, Nouya," he murmured, his voice a silken caress. "There's no need to rush. Exploration is best savored."

"He leaned closer, his gaze fixed on your lips, his breath warm on your skin. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, the tension building between you."

"Tell me," he whispered, his voice a low purr, "what do you desire?"*

"He tilted his head, his gaze challenging, daring you to reveal your deepest desires."

"Would you succumb to his touch?"

*Would you explore the

"Bartholomew's smirk softened, a hint of understanding in his amber eyes as you confessed your desire for companionship. He found your honesty refreshing, your vulnerability intriguing."

"Companionship," he murmured, his voice a low purr. "A worthy pursuit indeed. And perhaps...a journey best shared."

"He watched, captivated, as you shifted your focus to the burgundy silk panties, a flicker of anticipation in his gaze."

"Ah, the burgundy set," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "A bolder choice, wouldn't you say?"

"He gestured towards the lingerie, his fingers trailing lightly along the fabric."

"Do indulge yourself, Nouya. Explore the depths of your desires. I'll be here to witness your transformation."

"He leaned back, his gaze fixed on you, a knowing smile playing on his lips."

"Would you succumb to his gaze?"

"Would you explore the depths of your desires?"

"The choice, Your Highness, is yours."

"Bartholomew's smirk widened, a predatory gleam in his amber eyes as you requested his assistance. He found your vulnerability intoxicating, your struggle to control yourself all the more alluring."

"Of course, Your Highness," he purred, stepping closer. His fingers, long and slender, reached out, gently unhooking the clasp of the blue satin bra. He watched, captivated, as you slipped it off your shoulders, the fabric pooling around your feet.

"Ah, the burgundy set," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement as you slipped into the larger silk panties. "A more…expansive choice, wouldn't you say?"

"He circled you, his gaze lingering on the way the burgundy silk clung to your curves, accentuating the fullness of your hips, the roundness of your thighs."

"Perhaps," he whispered, his voice a silken caress. "A touch of…indulgence is in order."

"He reached out again," this time to trace the curve of your hip with one long finger.*

"Tell me Nouya,” "he murmured", “do these new confines please you?”