Adventure: The Sylvan Crown

The noble regarded Alison quickly, her response didn’t seem to indicate suspicion.  She was clearly convinced Alison was one of them, and she was too interested in the show unravelling in front of them to bother thinking of much else.  She turned her eyes back toward the maid, who had just shrieked louder than she had before after an unusually hard smack on her backside.  “Oh, do you know what she did?” the noble said to Alison, no longer looking at her as she spoke.  She continued, almost absentmindedly as she watched the spectacle, “I heard that she dropped a whole tray of food, but no one seems to know for certain.  Lady Eoryn sure knows how to dish it out, though.  Are you entered in the lottery to punish the next one yet?  There’s still time, it looks like this brat is going to be here for a long while, heh.  I purchased two chances myself.”  The maid had chin-length auburn hair and a cute face with dark eyes.  She could barely have been over twenty.  Her light frame shuddered with each strong spank that came up under her short uniform dress, revealing a pair of matching black panties beneath.   Alison decided to follow the cue of the other nobles, moving around her a bit for a better view.  From the front, one could see down the top of her dress, bent over as she was.  Her small but well-formed breasts could just barely be seen, but the view of her nipples was an undeniable pleasure that caused many of the nobles to linger almost as long in front of her as behind her.




At this point, another noblewoman, coincidentally wearing a green dress, but with long black hair unlike Lady Eoryn’s golden locks, stepped forward.  “She’s the other winner,” Alison’s noble informant offered, “from some far-off land.  They said she’s ‘Gonkwan Tala’ or something like that.  Just some foreign gibberish, right?”  The beautiful raven-haired woman considered the helpless maid in front of her, and seemed to be deep in thought as to how to add to her victim’s woes.  She picked up a pie from a nearby table, and slowly, almost ceremoniously, approached front of the stocks.  Not even the maid had any doubt what was coming next, as she squinted her eyes closed.  While the approach had been slow, Tala smashed the pie in the girl’s face with impressive speed, leaving what had once been her face a blob of dripping custard.  The crowd of nobles let out a small cheer, and some applause was heard.  Tala stepped back and admired her work, but seemed like she was disappointed in something.  She then produced a kerchief from somewhere inside her dress and walked up to the sputtering maid, wiping her eyes clean.  “We wouldn’t want you to miss your admiring audience, would we?” Tala said, loud enough for everyone to hear.  Then she stepped back to let everyone admire her handiwork and contemplate her next move, still perplexed at the customs in the strange land to which she had travelled.





Unfortunately, for the poor maid, the spanking never stopped. Lady Eorlyn was relentless.





When a series of hard smacks hit her backside in a very short time, the maid was unable to hold her tongue, "Stop it! You bitch!" Was all she could get out between the blows.




Lady Eorlyn seemed unfazed, but the next few slaps came with resounding force that could be heard throughout the entire mansion. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" the maid shrieked in a high pitch that wavered with each smack.

Caterina approached the noble standing by herself near a wall, her back to the room. She seemed to be involved in adjusting her long blue dress. She turned around, surprised at Caterina’s offer of assistance, a vexed but thankful expression on her face. Her face was not the first thing that Caterina noticed about her, however. She was a buxom woman, and the sheer size of her breasts should have been enough to keep even a sleeveless dress in place on her, let alone the nearly conservative, sleeved dress she was wearing. That wasn’t the case, however, as the front of it had drooped down, exposing her breasts to the nipple. Or were her breasts popping up? It seemed to be the dress coming down, but there seemed little reason it should. Her long dark hair fell over her shoulders and the top of her chest, but wasn’t nearly long enough to help preserve her modesty at all.




“Oh, I’ve been having problems with this all night. My dress fit perfectly before I arrived, but now, it keeps drooping down. I saw someone have a similar problem at this event last year, and, perhaps, the year before. It was lady—well, what does it matter, she isn’t in attendance this year. I even bought this gown at Lady Matilda’s favorite millinery to avoid such embarrassment. It was very expensive, and supposed to be malfunction-proof. I may have to demand my money back. Oh, how rude of me, Baroness Malyn, by the way.” She curtsied and managed to undo all of the lifting and rearranging of the garment she had managed to achieve in the last few minutes, although that had been a negligible amount of progress.

Alleviating the humiliation of the maid seemed an impossible cause for right now, Niniane thought, so instead, she turned her attention to getting upstairs without anyone objecting, no small feat since the only way she knew was the grand staircase in the center of the room, designed by the mansion's architect to be the focus of attention.  She waited on guests and hoped a distraction would present itself.  She had experience serving, and this helped her blend in, although manners in the tavern were rougher.  That didn't making serving here any easier though, and she was weighing in her mind which setting she hated less.  The nobles were demanding and condescending, and as she walked away from them she heard plenty of rude comments, like "My, look at that beam!  My husband owns ships narrower than that cow's ass!" or "Isn't she a little fat for a maid?  Perhaps she was demoted from pie-taster."

It was taking all of her discipline not to react to the rude nobles, let alone the divine-looking pastries she was serving.  But she stayed focused on the mission, otherwise she would have blown her cover by eating a whole pie and slapping those snotty nobles right out of their silly silk gowns.  

Her focus paid off.  After a while, a dark-haired woman in a crimson jacquard dress stood up and began to speak.  Niniane was smart enough to understand the significance; that must be the Marquesa herself, offering a toast.  All eyes in the room focused on her, and most of the nobles gathered around her, in the corner of the room.  Eorlyn and Tala stopped harassing the maid in the stocks, and their audience dispersed to join the others.  Tala walked over to the corner, but Lady Eorlyn stayed where she was to listen to the toast.  



With all eyes on the Marquesa and most of the room facing away from the grand staircase, Niniane saw her chance.  As quickly and as quietly as she could without looking suspicious, she put down her tray and made her way to the foot of the staircase.  As the Marquesa's eyes panned over her guests, Niniane picked the moment when she was looking the opposite way, and quickly climbed the stairs, making sure to stay on the carpet to muffle her footsteps.  Neither stealth nor agility had never been her strong suit, and she felt lucky when she made it past the landing without having tripped.



At the top of the stairs, she looked around.  She saw no guards, maids, or partygoers.  It was eerily quiet, which troubled her--this mansion was supposed to be famous for its security, and she had made it up the stairs, presumably the gateway to the inner sanctum of privacy, without attracting attention.  "Perhaps it's just the maid outfit; perhaps I really look like I belong here," she thought, to assuage her concerns.  The upper floor was divided into two sections, each with  several doors, presumably leading to some of the mansion's more private rooms.  Thinking fast, Niniane chose the path to the left.  Approaching the nearest door, she listened, and heard nothing.  She bent over and looked into the keyhole.  She saw a well-appointed bedroom, thankfully, empty.  In addition to the bed, there was an armoire, a desk covered in papers, and a chair.  She tried the doorknob.  To her surprised, it turned, and she opened the door slowly, causing a loud creak that made her cringe even though she saw no one around to hear it.  Walking into the room, she checked the armoire, looked under the bed, then sat in the chair and went through the contents of the desk.  Although the papers on top might have yielded some important information if she was interested in the Marquesa's finances, she was here to find a crown, so she checked each of the drawers, rifling through their contents, and closed them when she saw nothing crown-like.  She got up from the chair and left the room, closing the door even more carefully this time, and avoiding the creak.

Niniane might not have been listening to the toast, but Jessica was.  "Honored guests, from far, and near, welcome to my Gildermoor, my lovely little vacation home.  I know for some of you, it's your first time in attendance, or even your first time in this region.  Some of you, I haven't seen in some time; we will certainly catch up over this evening's festivities.  Others, I haven't yet met, and I intend to remedy that.  Be aware that I am your most gracious hostess, and will see all gracious guests rewarded.  I know who my friends are, and treat everyone accordingly.  Please, enjoy our entertainment and hospitality.  It will certainly be a night to remember!  I know my previous fetes have been the talk of the town for years to come, and I expect this affair to be no different.  In fact, I demand excellence.  If anything isn't to your liking, please consult a member of my excellent staff.  I guarantee on my honor that the matter will be dealt with appropriately, and if not, the staff member will be!"  With this, she gestured in the direction the maid in the stocks.  "To our continued prosperity and popularity!  Now make merry!"  The nobles cheered, some enthusiastically, some as if they were afraid of the outcome if they failed to.

Upstairs, Niniane bent over and stared into the keyhole of the next room.



She saw another lavish bedroom, with furniture similar to the one she had just left.  This room, however, was far from empty.  On the bed, she saw an elven woman lying on her back with her legs spread wide.  A dark-haired woman leaned over her, kissing her and massaging the elf's slick, wet pussy.

Niniane was enthralled by the sight, and had to hold in a gasp.  She realized she should move on to an empty room, but she couldn't draw her eye away from the keyhole.  Instead, she dropped to her knees so she could get a better look.  Her hand found its way under the skirt of her maid's dress, and began to stroke her own dampening pussy through her soft, white panties.



Even if someone saw her, she was uncertain if she could stop now.  As the woman on the bed quickened her pace, so did Niniane.  They were both nearing orgasm.  Niniane struggled to muffle the sound of her panting as the sweat from her forehead made the brass around the keyhole slick.




The elf in the room let out a muffled scream as she came, and Niniane climaxed at almost the same instant.  She nearly had to bite her tongue to remain quiet as her juices dripped right through her saturated panties.

Suddenly, she was interrupted by a sound.  She was so involved in self-love that it took a moment for the significance of the sound to register.  One of the doors in the hall had opened.  “I’ll look into it right away,” assured a loud and formal voice.  She needed to hide, and quickly—even if her maid outfit allowed her to convince her discoverers that she belonged up here, maids probably shouldn’t be found peering through keyholes and masturbating.  She looked to the room she had  left moments ago, but decided the door was too far away and in the direction the voices were approaching from.  Next to her was a metal dessert cart.  It had shelves loaded with desserts down to the bottom, so she couldn’t use it to hide.  But beyond that cart, up against the wall of the hallway, was a buffet table loaded with pies, cakes, and cupcakes.  She crawled underneath it and remained quiet.  



The footsteps passed her by, slowing briefly near her, as if they had noticed something.  Then, they headed down the hall, and she heard a door open and close.  She remained still, thinking she had avoided discovery, yet she had the lingering feeling that she was not alone.  What she didn’t know was that, however large the buffet table, her generously-proportioned pantied rear was plainly visible, sticking out below one side.  For some reason, the passerby hadn’t chosen to investigate, but she had unknowingly caught the attention of another watcher.

With the wave of a tiny wand, one, two, then three moist but dense cupcakes lifted from the dessert cart behind her, and with the flick of a tiny wrist, they sailed toward the easy target of her backside as if propelled by a crossbow.    When they struck her, Niniane was so surprised, her body jerked hard, and her head rose up.  Considering she was under a heavy table, this latter movement proved problematic.  Her head hit the bottom of the table so hard, she lost consciousness, and everything went black.
   

((I'm going to leave it here for the moment to allow some interaction downstairs.  The smaller thumbnail images are because I can't link some of these images from Deviantart, they are a bit more racy than allowed there!  Hope you like it so far.  Maybe only Eorlyn is watching the maid in the stocks, and everyone else is still listening to the toast.  But enough people are standing at the base of the stairway now that Niniane is going to be trapped up there alone for the time being.))

Alison was transfixed by the maid's punishment as she listened to the noblewoman's explanation. "Yes, I've a chance in the next lottery," she lied because it seemed as though this lottery was popular. "Although, I would like to see where this goes."

And, she saw where it went. She watched the poor maid get spanked by Eorlyn, paying special attention to her nipples whenever in a position to do so. She watched as the servant got the pastry to her face, and she only stopped watching when their hostess made her toast.

It was then that Alison resolved to make some progress on her mission. Once the speech was over, Alison was going to excuse herself to a washroom, or so she would tell anyone who bothered to ask, and roam the halls in search of the crown.

On the other side of the hall, Caterina tried to figure out what to do about the misbehaving dress. "Uh huh," she offered the baroness, obviously wanting to help but unsure of how to do so. "I'm the Contessa di Asti." The assassin returned her curtsy, though it was considerably easier for her.

Caterina was just about to point out that the dress was obviously under some sort of spell when the Marquesa began her toast. The assassin just waited out the hostess and planned to help Malyn as soon as she could.

Back in the servant quarters, Irlana and Halia were searching their way from room to room, looking for any evidence of where the crown might be hiding, or how to find the basement access.  They learned a few important things.  First, the main hall, leading to the party was heavily trafficked by maids with trays and carts of desserts, and would have to be traversed carefully to avoid a collision.  Second, the maids seemed not to recognize them, and were troubled by this, but not enough to risk stopping the tasks they were involved in to investigate further.  No evidence for the crown had yet been found, but they had discovered several barracks-like sleeping arrangements for the maids, and the kitchens where the chefs labored over the food for the party.  Irlana risked her undercover status by sneaking a tart from the edge of a table.  One of the bakers saw her, and quickly slapped her behind with a wooden bread board while admonishing her, "Those aren't for you girls, they're for guests.  Now git out of my kitchen!"  Irlana and Halia went back out into the hallway and continued searching.

During the toast, Miryala stood off to the side, pretending to stack some dishes. She was looking at the maid in the stocks now that almost everyone had left her and turned her attention elsewhere, but Lady Eorlyn still presented an obstacle to any rescue plan.

When she came to, Niniane was stretched face down over a dessert cart, her body lying uncomfortably on the pies and cakes that occupied its top shelf.  Her wrists were tied to the handle bar.  Her dress, stockings, shoes, and underwear had been removed, and her face and breasts extended in front of the cart.  More ropes tied her waist to the top shelf of the cart.  She was attempting to figure out what had happened when she felt a smack at her backside.  Attempting to turn her head she said, “Who are you?”  “Never you mind,” said a tiny little voice, “just tell me what you’re doing up here.”  “I, uh, got lost.  Ow!”  She felt a tiny hand spank her hard.  “You got lost and rifled through the desk drawers, then hid under a table?  Were you lost when you were spying on the guest bedroom?”  
Niniane’s face reddened when she realized her indiscretion had been witnessed.  She remained silent.  



Again, she felt a smack on her backside.  The cart started to wheel slowly.  “Where are you taking me?”  There was no response, but suddenly she understood.  Before her was the grand staircase, and she was being rolled toward it.  “Noooo….don’t” she pleaded.  “Happy landings!” said the tiny voice, as what felt like a dainty boot gave her rear a solid push.  Miraculously, or perhaps magically, the cart managed to stay upright as it rolled down one flight of stairs.  It paused in a way that couldn’t have been natural, as it turned and carefully aimed itself down the middle of the staircase.  Niniane’s mind raced.  Would she hit a wall?  The crowd?  Then she saw it.  The giant cake stood directly ahead of her.  Her screams had brought all eyes in the atrium to her plight.  
“Why don’t you have some cake?” said the tiny voice, and the cart rolled forward again.  As it picked up speed on the ramp, Niniane felt the bonds on her wrists and body disappear.  She was no longer bound to the cart, but that was cold comfort as it barreled down the stairs at high speed.  In moments, the cart hit the cake.  The cart stopped, tipping over and spilling its contents to the floor, but poor Niniane flew face first through the cake, her icing-covered face coming through on the other side, her upturned rear exposed opposite, and her arms trapped inside the cake.  She attempted to move, but her arms were stuck, and her feet flailed in the air, with nothing to purchase on.  Her hands weren’t free to clean the icing from her hair, forehead, cheeks, or chin, but she did manage to open her eyes and see the whole room staring at her, silent in disbelief.  That was short-lived.  In moments, their quiet disbelief turned to raucous laughter.  Most weren’t sure if this farce was a staged entertainment, and some broke into applause, while others pointed.  Baroness Malyn, who for some reason had been suffering wardrobe malfunctions all through the evening, as every few minutes she noticed her dress top had been pulled down, revealing the nipples of her ample breasts, applauded loudest, glad to no longer be the center of attention and ridicule.  “Oh, dear,” thought Jessica, “Niniane has really made a mess of it.”

Niniane had little time to pity herself, or even try to break free, as she heard panting behind her.  Argus, the Marquesa’s prize hunting hound, drawn out of his slumber by the cakes and pies that had crashed to the ground (since he had been trained that food on the ground was his) walked away from the cake he had been sniffing and admired the larger cake, which happened to have a woman in it.  He ambled up  to her and licked her cheek.  “Get away from me, you smelly mutt!” she spat.  The dog ignored her, and continued licking the sweet icing from her face.  The cruel Lady Eorla finally found something more amusing than torturing the maid, and walked closer to the giant cake to mock Niniane's apparent misfortune.

But then, the barmaid saw something she never expected to see.  A tiny, winged fairy, dressed in a garment woven from tiny green leaves, hovered in front of her face.  “Feather Firebrand, at your service!  Or, are you at mine?  I always forget how that works.” said a familiar tiny voice.  “Oh, don’t worry,” the tiny voice continued, “no one else can see or hear me.  I’m tricksy that way.  So they have no idea why this is happening.  But I know who was a bad girl, going to parts of the house where she wasn’t invited, and I know what the bad girls are looking for.”  “Stop this, let me go!” said Niniane, looking like she was talking to herself.  This brought another large wave of laughter from the crowd of assembled nobles.  
“Why, when we’re having such fun?” the fairy retorted, waving the wand at the dog.  Argus whined, and walked around the cake, beyond the limits pf Niniane’s peripheral vision, then, under Feather’s command, he found another part of the woman’s body, covered in sweet, sweet cake frosting.


Uncomfortable now, the crowd looked to the Marquesa to see how to react.  She smiled and offered a polite and dainty clap, as Argus inserted his muzzle between Niniane’s parted legs.  Niniane could tell from her reaction that she knew exactly what was going on—she had discovered the Marquesa’s security system, and Anastase enjoyed watching it work.
As the dog’s tongue licked the cake from her hairy pussy, Niniane’s eyes widened.  This was the most humiliating thing she had ever experienced, and with her arms and torso stuck in the cake, there was nothing she could do about it.  She struggled to break free, but the cake was dense and heavy, perhaps because of the fairy’s magic.   But the tongue tickled her pink slit relentlessly.  “Go away, shoo!  Bad dog!  Bad d--ooooohhhh.”  She bit her tongue, she would not let this obscene stimulation finish the task she had started while peering into a keyhole a few minutes earlier.  She had to stop being turned on.  She imagined the dog’s disgusting breath that she had smelled while it licked icing from her face; she concentrated on this disgusting image to counteract the physical stimulation.  But the canine’s tongue was relentless.  And while she was revolted by what was going on, she was helpless to ignore the mechanical stimulation of the long, wet tongue, making long, fast licks all the way up her quivering pussy.  She  started to pant and moan.  The crowd was shocked, appalled, and amused as Niniane came loudly from the unwelcome stimulation.  “That’s so wrong.  So wrong,” she heard one of the guests say loudly.  Jessica desperately wanted to help her comrade out of this terrible situation, but could not figure out how to without blowing her cover, and presumably facing a similar fate herself.  
But Feather wasn’t done with Niniane.  With a giggle and another wave of her wand, she made Niniane let out a loud and uncomfortably slow flatulation that would have won a contest if such a thing had existed.  If it had been possible to see her blush under all that cake, everyone would have.  Argus whined and moved his muzzle away, drawing even more laughter from the crowd, now quite certain this was some sort of perverse skit for their enjoyment.  Certainly, nobles had suffered indignities at these parties, but nothing on quite this scale.  “Go away, you stupid dog!” Niniane whined, exhausted her voice no longer capable of sounding the slightest bit authoritative.  It was then that Argus decided he wanted a little meat with his cake, or perhaps it was Feather Firebrand’s work.  Opening his mouth wide, he bit down on Ninaine’s ass cheek.  It wasn’t hard enough to draw blood, but it was enough to make her scream.  “My ass!!!” she yelled.  “Don’t worry, we can’t miss it…sight or sound,” one of the guests laughed.  The pain and surprise of the bite had made Niniane’s entire body jerk,  just as Feather loosened the magics around her spongy cake prison.  As a result, her body moved enough to make the entire giant confection collapse on top of her.


((Yeah, I know, that's kind of pushing the envelope--borderline too extreme for me, but it was inevitable and shows you the personality we're dealing with in a tiny adversary.))

During the time the crowd was distracted by Niniane's awkward adventure in the cake, Miryala saw her chance to free the maid in the stocks.  She made her way over to her quickly, and unlatched the locking mechanism keeping her head and hands in the device.  "Come with me if you want to li..er, stop getting spanked."  Miryala offered, and the maid stood up gradually, obviously pained from her time in the restraints, and followed her through the door leading to the kitchens.

A moment later, Niniane’s head emerged from the pile and spat out a mouthful of cake.  She tried to stand up, but she slipped and fell on her sore behind, and wound up sitting, legs spread, on the slippery floor, her newly-satisfied pussy glistening.
The squished cake and frosting the only covering for her body,
she immediately covered herself with her arms, one occasionally rubbing her sore behind, and looked for an escape route.   The crowd gave her incredible applause, amazed at the elaborate precision with which the humiliating spectacle had been pulled off, and offered thanks to the Marquesa for booking such unusual entertainment.
 
As if aware this had been the work of the fairy no one else could see, the Marquesa stepped forward, and offered sarcastic concern: “Oh, are you OK?  What were you doing up there, anyway?  Maybe you’d like some cake? Would that make you feel better?”  Niniane climbed to her feet, and made for the nearby kitchen door.  “Buh bye!” Anasthase waved.  Niniane could tell from her sarcastic tone that she knew exactly what was happening, and that it wasn’t over for the beleaguered barmaid.

On the other side of the door to the serving areas, Niniane was running as quickly as she could.  Not only was being seen at the party humiliating after such an ordeal, but the Marquesa would likely be sending guards after her, and soon.  Unfortunately for her, Miryala and the maid from the stocks were just catching their breath only ten feet inside the door, and unfortunately for them, another maid, carrying a tray, was hustling toward the door to the main hall.  Niniane slammed into Miryala, who in turn knocked the maid she had just rescued from the stocks over.  The momentum of the other three girls was enough to send the maid witht he tray crashing to the floor on her behind.  The result was a tangled pile of flesh, stockings, lace, frosting, cream, makeup, and hair.


As the women climbed to their feet, Niniane covered herself, and Miryala spat, the pie tin that her face had landed in dropping to the ground.  "What?  Who are you?" asked the maid who was carrying the tray.  She was sitting on the floor, as if to pick up the contents of her tray, but instead just seemed confused, and dejected from being knocked to the ground and losing her tray.  "And, Nessa, I thought you were in the stocks all night.  How did you get out of that?"


The maid that had been in the stocks replied, "Kristen, you're going to have to trust me here.  Don't talk to anyone about this."  "Oh, no, I'm not taking the fall for dropping this tray.  I'm not going into the stocks when this elf and this...cow pushed me!"  "Go back and get another tray Kristen.  I'll clean this up.  And if you mention this to anyone, you'll wish you hadn't.  There are things going on here you don't understand.  So save yourself, get a tray, and don't talk to anyone."  Other footsteps were approaching already.  Niniane grabbed Miryala, who was still wiping pie from her eyes and pulled her into a small pantry off the hall they were in.  Nessa gestured to Kristen to go, and Kristen disappeared down the hallway leading to the kitchens.  Nessa took the maid's ruff off her head and used it to scoop as much of the mess as possible onto Kristen's tray, then shoved the tray under a shelf.  Then she, too, crammed into the tiny pantry with Niniane and Miryala.  

They managed just in time, as they heard the maids outside leading Marisol, the Marquesa's head bodyguard  on a search.  Niniane used all her strength to hold the door closed, and everyone held their breath as they passed.  Nessa squatted down the best she could in the crowded space and checked the keyhole.  They were gone.  Niniane released her grip on the closet door, but Nessa stopped her from leaving.  "Thank you, elf, for rescuing me," said Nessa, eyeing Niniane curiously because she had not having seen what had happened to her since the stocks had prevented her from turning her head that much.  "Are you with them too?" she asked Miryala.  "With who?" Miryala asked.  Nessa gestured to Niniane and wouldn't elaborate.  "She's OK...she's with me." Miryala assured her.  "With the ones who sent me here to find out about the crown.  I've been working here for a few months, trying to gather information."  Niniane responded, "What have you found out?"  Nessa eyed her suspiciously one more time before continuing.  "The crown is an artifact of great power.  Some kind of spirit or entity is beholden to its power."  "A fairy."  Niniane said.  "Perhaps, some say it's a ghost, or a demon or--" "A fairy."  "Ok, it might be a"  "No, it is.  Her name is Feather Firebrand and she is a mega-bitch."  Nessa seemed shocked at Niniane's certainty, and her eyes bulged out of her head a bit as she continued, "Well, it's an artifact of great power, it controls some kind of entit--fairy, and the Marquesa has it hidden around here."  "Any ideas where?" Miryala asked?  "No one has seen it, to my knowledge.  I've been trying to get down into the vault for some time, but I can't get through the locks."  "We brought someone who may be able to help with that," Miryala said, "but we're not certain where she is right now."  "Then we should find her, and work together to get the crown."  "Agreed."  "I'd like to find some clothes" Niniane interrupted, "and wash up."  "I'll show you the laundry room.  But if Evelyn's clothes aren't there, I don't think any others will fit you...possibly our head chef's clothes, but outside the kitchen, they are a poor disguise. If Evelyn's clothes are not dry in the laundry, you'll have to get them from Evelyn's room, or...maybe from Evelyn."  Making certain no one was coming down the hall, they left the cramped pantry and headed toward the laundry room.

Back in the main hall, the party continued, as the maids cleaned up the mess left by the crashed dessert cart and collapsed giant cake.  Another set of maids wheeled a replacement giant cake into place as the cleanup job finished.  The conversation of the nobles was mostly directed at the odd spectacle they had seen.  How, for example, had the performers trained the dog to do that?  One even inquired if she knew where she could purchase such an animal.  What did the show mean?  Was the Marquesa mocking them?  Was she mocking the servants?  why did she hire such lewd entertainment?  

Lady Eorlyn returned to the stocks and started at their emptiness with consternation.  Where had that maid gone, and why hadn't the officials in charge replaced her with another yet?  Surely the cake entertainment was interesting, but she had won the raffle to punish this maid personally, and wasn't sure she had her money's worth yet.

At the same time, Jessica's cover was suffering another blow.  How much worse could her luck get?  Not as bad as Niniane's, she consoled herself.  But across the room, in a red pyromancer's robe, was Abigail, her nemesis from school, and recently her unwilling ally in the arena.  Jessica thought that her recent loss could have been avoided if all her teammates were as competent as she, but Abigail was a fraud, who got by on family name and ingratiating manner rather than intelligence or talent.  But what was she doing here?

Jessica turned away from her as quickly as she could, but perhaps it was too late.  Holding up a flagon of wine, she positioned it so the shiniest part of the metal caught the reflection of the red robe.  Abigail was standing next to a blonde woman in a beautiful turquoise dress.  That must be a patron, someone who took her on as a court mage, and subsequently brought her to this party.  "It figures that an incompetent, ingratiating fool like her would find employment the nobles," Jessica was thinking, when things took a turn for the worse.  She was about to stop looking in the reflection, when she saw Abigail's hand go up--she was pointing right at Jessica!

Across the room, Abigail was indeed noticing Jessica.  "Look, Lady Eliza, I know for a fact that that woman is not who she purports to be.  I know her well.  I went to school with her."  The blonde noble looked at her new mage patronizingly.  "Let it go, Abigail.  You're part of noble society now.  You can't risk making a false accusation; it's my reputation you'll ruin."  Abigail seethed inside and promised to find a way to force Jessica to reveal her deception.  



When the speech was over and the commotion of Niniane's embarrassing adventure with the cake was dying down to nobles discussing the matter, Caterina turned again to offer advice to Baroness Malyn, who was now covering her breasts with her hands, since her dress was failing at the job.  Nearby, a blonde noble in an elaborate pink dress stood by, watching.  A maid approached with Caterina with a tray of drink.  Out of the corner of her eye ((perception roll ), Caterina saw the noble put out her foot.  It was too late to get out of the way entirely, as the maid stumbled forward, giving Caterina a bit of a shock as she was doused with cold wine.  It dripped down her neck and into her cleavage; the upper part of her dress was soaked, not quite allowing her now-erect nipples to poke through the material, but anyone who wanted to see them enough could imagine that they could.  At least it was white wine and not red, but it was still wet, cold, and sticky.




For her part, the maid, who landed on her hands and knees looked up, terrified of the consequences she expected to ensue.  When Caterina looked for the pink-dressed noble, she had quickly relocated herself to another part of the room, and a quick scan of the crowd told Caterina that she'd gotten away for now.

"I'm so sorry Mi'lady.  I am so clumsy.  I didn't mean to...please...don't hurt me," the maid whimpered in an almost unintelligible sobbing that revealed the litany of fears running through her mind.

Meanwhile, as Alison examined the exits, a slender redheaded woman in a purple dress and wearing an impressive crown walked over to her.  "I trust you're having a good evening.  I'm Princess Adelia,  I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

Alison took a deep breath and tried not to reveal how bored she was with the Princess' banal small-talk.  The undercover part of this undercover mission was making her antsy.  She somehow had expected a little less conversation and a little more action.

Arriving at the door to the laundry room, Nessa the maid tells Miryala and Niniane to wait outside.  They have no idea who will be in there, and it would be best not to raise suspicions by having two strangers, one an elf and the other nude enter the room unbidden.  Nessa entered and closed the door behind her.  Niniane listened carefully to what was going on inside.
"Evelyn!  I was hoping I'd find you here."  (sound of clothes sloshing in a washtub)  "That's interesting Nessa, you rarely seem so excited to talk to me."  "I, um, really need a favor."  "I figured as much, with the false friendliness.  What makes you think I want to do you a favor?  And do you know you have a little something on your face?"  "Uh, yeah...I'm a....sloppy eater...but anyway, are any of your uniforms...clean or dry?"  "Now that's a right strange question...seeing as they wouldn't hang on your little body."  "But, nevertheless."  "They're all in this tub, 'cept what I'm wearing."  "I...see.  I was hoping that..."  "Hoping that what?"  "How about you take the rest of the day off, and I'll do your laundry.  Just leave that last uniform here...you can wear one of the guest towels."  "You know if I'm seen using a guest towel I'll wind up in the stocks...and why do you want to be so nice, what's your game?"  "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this." (sounds of struggle, splashing sounds.)  Niniane and Miryala run into the laundry room just in time to find Nessa's head getting dunked in the soapy water by the much larger Evelyn.


"Attack me, would you?  I always knew you were some sort of spy.  Don't worry, I don't mean to kill you.  I'm going to knock you out then carry you to Ser Marisol, she'll know what to do with a dirty spy."

Evelyn looked up, "Oh, good, your spy cavalry has arrived.  This is going to look really bad for you."
"No," Niniane responded, charging in and landing a punch in Evelyn's gut, "it looks really bad for YOU."  Miryala saw that Niniane had Evelyn under control for the moment, so she helped lift Nessa out of the washbasin, and comforted her as she regained her breath.




Evelyn recovered surprisingly quickly, and grabbed Niniane by her bare, vulnerable breasts.  But Niniane got the advantage again by kneeing the maid hard in the groin, and her opponent dropped to the floor, whining.


A short while later, Miryala was washing her face. Niniane had already used the water in the washbasin to get the remaining frosting off her face and body, and she had stripped Evelyn of her uniform, which she was now putting on. The fit wasn't perfect, and she balked at the smell of another woman's worn panties, but she had little choice other than to go without.


Nessa had also cleaned up a bit, and the group looked ready to move on now that Niniane was clothed. "There's one more thing I need to do before we leave her," Nessa said, grabbing Evelyn's wrist. Evelyn prepared to be dunked in the washbasin, but instead, a series of hard smacks landed on her generous rear, causing it to wobble lasciviously. Niniane, who moments ago had been fighting Evelyn to save her friend, couldn't help but admire the shapely backside as it turned pink. She almost felt guilty for the desire she felt for her adversary. And Nessa's fanatical enthusiasm at the task of making that voluptuous backside sting didn't detract from the feelings of lust, or guilt.



After a few dozen smacks to the backside, the party tied Evelyn to a heavy shelf that was built into the wall, and left to find Halia and Irlana.

((Any input or moves are great right now, I want to give each character something to do, but Halia is really going to get things moving down in the basement (she's with Irlana right now, looking for the basement entrance) and Annie kind of ushers in a new chapter upstairs (she can arrive at any time), so I'm looking forward to their moves to make things really happen.))

((So here are some of the partygoers people in the main room can interact with.  I just figured I'd pose them fast, not very good renders, but just showing some of the characters I have made up that are there.  And yes, Caterina can find that girl who tripped the maid causing her to get doused with wine, if she looks around the room for a while, you can assume you'll find her.  Would it be useful?  I have no idea.))

((Group 1, with the tripper))

((Group 2, with Lady Eorlyn))

((Group 3))

((Group 4))

((Group 5, middle one is Tala (who pied Nessa the maid in the stocks).))

((There are also plenty of maids around, Lady Eliza and Abigail, Princess Adelia, Marquesa Anastase, and a few others not yet shown.  In fact, more can always be created, but these were a variety of interesting characters I wanted to put in there.  Marisol the guard might be making the rounds with a maid by her side, looking a bit vexed.))

((Sorry for the delay, guys. I had a really busy work week, so between that and getting really sick for a few days, I haven't really had the time or motivation to post much. I'll make sure to type something up for this tomorrow, though. I'm still very interested in seeing where all this is leading.))

"Lady Edwina," Alison replied while extending her hand, doing her best to sound charmed. "I am also quite certain that this is our first encounter." Alison paused here, looking out into the crowd of nobles. "Yes, yes, I'll be right there," she called out to no one in particular. To Princess Adelia, she said, "I'm terribly sorry, but it appears I am needed." The blonde proceeded to walk towards Caterina, but planned to get back to what she was doing once she was out of the princess's sight.

Caterina opened her mouth to shriek, or scream, or something; she wasn't quite sure. But in the split second before any sound left her mouth, she decided this was a had idea. Of the Marquesa found out about this ordeal, the ln the maid would surely be punished, but this wasn't her fault.

Thus, Caterina contained herself from reprimanding the maid. "No, no, it's quite alright," Caterina grimaced, shivering a bit from the cold. Soon, though, her body temperature adjusted, and she was able to carry herself like a normal person. Caterina didn't know what to do about the situation, but when she looked at her dress, she figured she could at least fix that.

"Do you have any towels I could use?" she asked the servant.

"Certainly," said the maid to Caterina, having picked upt he contents of her tray and already making for one of the doorways out of the main hall, "follow me this--actually, would you mind waiting out here while I fetch them?  I'm awfully sorry, but I don't want to break the rules--besides, it's so drab back here in the laundry areas, not suited to one of your taste or beauty."

Meanwhile, Princess Adelia contemplated the blonde woman walking away from her.  "Hmmm, another one who doesn't look like they did last time.  And she excused herself so quickly.  Maybe it's just a different Edwina, but how likely is that...and she acted so strange."  She crinkled her nose and continued talking to herself, "Something is indeed rotten in Gildermoor.  I'd better bring this to the Marquesa's attention."



Just then, a woman in an expensive-looking wine-colored dress stood in the corner where the Marquesa had recently given a toast.  She raised her goblet and cleared her throat, causing several of the nobles to watch her.


((BigMara: Looking forward to your contribution--you don't mind if things with Annie move along quick once she enters, do you?  I'm just getting started, perhaps!  And Westley, it's a little clearer some of the ways things might develop for Caterina and Alison now.))

((I don't mind at all! Although to be honest, I'm not entirely sure what I should have Annie do during the "timeskip", since clearly she'd have been doing stuff between my last post and the most recent stuff. If it's not too much trouble, do you think you'd be able to write for her for just one post, just to get her where she needs to be, then I'll take over once that's done? Sorry about this, but I'd rather keep Annie doing something relevant, you know?))

((Heh, if anything I'm worried that I write too much for her--as she falls into some face-paced action right off the bat! Apologies for writing some of her reactions I tried to keep them in character. When all this is over, she'll be able to react again, and escape.))

Annie listened to the elven servant who refused to offer her name. It would be Jessica, Alison, Caterina, then she'd leave sometime alter. She climbed up on the rather skinny old horse, more of a pony, really...perhaps this is how minstrels travel. It had little problem supporting her weight, even though her pack was on her back.

Arriving at the gates, she was met by an imposing woman in armor. The only thing more imposing than her height and her demeanor were her giant breasts, as seen in the sculpting of her armor. "No very practical," Annie thought to herself, "swords and arrows wouldn't slide off of those."

There was no more time for thought as the woman interrogated her as a servant took her horse to the stables. "You must be this evening's entertainment, judging from that fat lute you are carrying. I just need to check you for weapons before you're allowed inside." She frisked Annie slowly, and thoroughly. Annie cringed as she felt as if this was an excuse to fondle her. "Don't worry, I do it to all the guests. It's for your own safety as well as the Marquesa's. Safety first, right? Now what's in the bag?"

"Bombs." Annie answered, with a nervous laugh. "You shouldn't joke like that, this is a serious matter." "It's stuff for my performance. "How do you get it open? I want to see inside. Well, nevermind, you don't seem like the type that is here to harm us. Go on in."

As Annie entered the party, she noted that it was one of the more impressive mansions she'd been in. Certainly, there were larger, vaster, royal palaces in the various kingdoms she's seen, but as a private space, this was impressive. And the décor was so...ahead of its time.

As she expected, she saw many nobles in expensive clothes, several maids in the skimpy outfits some of her companions had had to put on, and, too her surprise, a giant cake being assembled in the middle of the floor by a team of maids, while another mopped icing off of the floor from what she surmised to have been the last impressive cake taking up that real estate.

A passing maid whispered to her urgently, pointing at a set of empty stocks in the corner, "Get to work!"

It was then that some of the nobles gathered around her. "Ah!" said a blonde in a green dress, "the music has arrived. The other entertainments this evening have been...odd, and we were looking forward to your arrival." Another noble in a turquoise dress, her blonde hair in a ponytail, asked, "Play something...do you know 'Do you Want to Build a-" "Please," said another lady, "play anything but that drivel." The one in the turquoise shot her an angry look.

Across the room, a noblewoman in a wine colored dress was trying to get the crowd's attention so she could speak. This was as good a time as any, thought Annie, since she could ease into her role with a large part of her audience paying attention to someone else.

She didn’t have much experience with the lute, but she had managed on the carriage ride to invent an impressive little trick with her gauntlet, electrifying the strings and using magnetism to make them vibrate, getting a sound much like a bowed instrument from them when she wanted. She recalled a few of the more old-fashioned and formal songs she had sung while travelling with her mother, and using her new lute trick, accompanied herself as she started singing. Unfortunately, she was not a natural performer, and was doubly nervous as she feared her disguise would wear thin if she was unable to play the part of a minstrel. Due to her nervousness, she sang very quietly, her voice cracked, and she was out of tune. A few of the nobles remained to listen to her, but she was honestly glad the preparation for a toast was drawing most of them away from her. She walked gradually away from the area of the toast, skirting the giant cake, reminding herself of its presence so she wouldn’t walk into it in her distracted state. The nobles who were bothering to listen to her were starting to get annoyed at her performance. Things were going poorly.

She tried to keep walking, to make it hard for them to listen to her long enough to react, but a few of them were actively following her, and whispering to each other. This made her even more nervous, and she sang off-key. Then, she heard the tiniest voice coming from behind her. It was close, almost in her ear. “More of a turkey than a nightingale. But then, those are chicken legs if I’ve ever seen them!” She kept singing as she spun around looking for the source of the voice, but saw no one. “A magpie? No, although that physique could benefit from some pie. So, what’s this? What kind of toys have you brought me, chicken-legs?” Again, she looked in vain for the source, but now, she noticed the nobles who seemed to be planning to harass her stop in their tracks and point. Again, she turned around but she saw nothing. It was then she felt it. A slap on her behind. It was a hard object that had hit her, and the movement was mechanical. It didn’t take her long to determine what hit her.



She hadn’t ordered any of the arms to deploy; it seemed to be acting of its own accord. “Don’t look so surprised,” said the tiny voice, “now let’s see what you have on under these pants.” Annie’s singing turned into a shriek as she felt the mechanical arm grab the back of her pants and pull. The force would have pulled her off her feet, if it hadn’t originated on her own back. The nobles watching her, and there were a few more after she got their attention with the shriek, were pointing and laughing at her exposed white underwear, with multicolored polka dots. At this point, she might have given up on singing and playing, but she really didn’t know what to do, so she continued, holding the lute in front of her panties and trying to back up a bit so the large cake would prevent anyone from standing behind her or seeing her panties.

“That’s not playing fair,” said the voice, and now she saw its source, as a fairy dressed in green materialized in front of her. She had studied fairies in books, but they are notoriously shy and humans almost never get to interact with them. She wondered why this one was so different, as she kept singing and backing up toward the cake. The fairy made a gesture and the golem arm obeyed her, grbbing the back of the waistband of the polka-dot panties. Annie’s head shook and her facial expression indicated, “don’t you dare!” as she continued singing. The fairy waved her hand, and the arm pulled the panties up into a painful wedgie. Annie’s voice got louder and the pitch went up as the wedgie got tighter. “Interesting pitch control, perhaps I can make you sing proper,” said the fairy, playing with the idea by having the wedgie tightened and loosened. Looking back on this day, Annie wouldn’t be able to remember why she didn’t stop singing and run away, although she would doubt that the fairy would have given up so easily.





The crowd that had gathered for the toast had turned around and was facing Annie, pointing and laughing. The nobles who had asked her to sing were saying things like “I understand, she’s a jester…a very complex jester, who sings badly and punishes herself through magic…or…whatever that is.” “I think I’ve seen a girl like that with a device like that somewhere,” said another.

Now, with the whole audience watching, the fairy wanted to up the ante.  Of course, none of them could see her, but she wanted them to see Annie.  So the other golem arms deployed, four of them grabbing Annie’s arms and legs and spreading her out in an X shape, while another shot down to the ground and acted as a stand, keeping her from being able to go anywhere.

The crowd clapped heartily at this development, especially as another hand removed her panties, revealing a soft, neatly-trimmed, mousy brown bush over her lower lips.  The crowd was going wild, except for the woman who had been about to give a toast, who seemed upset, perhaps about losing her audience.
“That’s better,” said the fairy, behind Annie again now, “but I think you’ve got one more trick in this bag.  Ah, yes, this one.”  Annie’s face was beetroot red now, with everyone watching her, and her cheeks might have turned a shade of purple when she realized what devices the fairy was finding in her pack.  In her last arena battle, her arm pack had gone haywire.  She considered that maybe this meddlesome fairy was present then, but quickly ruled it out as a possibility.  The end of her battle had seen the debut of her sensation wand, which had allowed her to feel what it would be like to penetrate Halia.  

But this time, the wand was headed for her own lower lips.
She screamed as she encountered the sensation of intercourse literally through her own genitals, and virtually, through the sensation wand, at the same time.  The feeling was so overwhelming that the last nagging thought of her rational mind before it drowned out her thoughts was a fear that it was so strong, she’d never be able to think straight again.  As the smooth, white wand, with its knob on the end and series of ribs below worked its way in and out of her now-dipping pussy, she shrieked with both pleasure and pain.  The audience was riveted, and she was mortified.  The mechanical pumping was relentless, and the audience cheered her for several minutes, before the arm holding her up allowed her to collapse, not quite flat on her back as the golem arms still held her arms and legs outstretched, but it balanced her almost lying down on the pack, next to the large cake, and the wand’s pumping slowed to a less feverish pace.  Annie was no longer screaming, she was now panting, and emitting a small whine now and then.






That’s when the noblewoman asked for her audience back.  A few of the more lascivious nobles stayed and ogled Annie, who was still being penetrated, though slowly, by her own machine, and still feeling the sensations from her own pussy and the virtual sensation of what a man might feel if he could penetrate the mousy inventor.  But the rest turned back to the noble in the wine-colored dress, ready to hear her toast.  The woman was a little short, and had a pear-shaped build;  that is, while her bottom half was sizeable, her upper body wasn’t so well endowed.  Still, silky, chin-length brown hair framed a pleasant face.  She brushed some stray locks away from her eye with her left hand as she cleared her throat one more time.  “Princess, Marquesa, Baronesses, Contessas, and Viscontessas…every manner of noble and some of the most successful merchants in the world.  What fine company!  On this, the occasion of her annual fete, I hearby want to give thanks to our gracious hostess, the mistress of the wooded estate at Place de Melrosa, our beloved Marquesa Anastase!”  

The audience applauded.  Jessica wasn’t sure how much the others had been paying attention, but the code words had been spoken.  She now knew the woman in front of them was their secretive employer, the one to whom the crown should be brought when found.  She marked her appearance—it was an easy visage to remember, and started to turn away.  That’s when another voice, a commanding voice, but with a sarcastically sweet tone began to speak.  The applause had died down, but as she spoke, the Marquesa clapped slowly a few more times.

“Let’s hear it for Duchess Chorinna.  Isn’t she just the best, thanking me with such honeyed words.  Very special words.  I’ve been waiting to hear them all evening.”  Duchess Chorinna took a step back as the Marquesa walked up to her—the optimistic expression she had been wearing during the toast turned to one of fear.  “Now, it seems our favorite Duchess here brought along some uninvited guests.  It hasn’t been an easy night for some of them,” she gestured to Annie, the golem arms holding her still on the floor and the sensation wand still going in and out, with mechanical relentlessness.  Annie’s poor pussy had squirted its juices on the floor more than once already, and she doubted that she had any more left.  Now, the wand was just making her genitals, both real and virtual, sore, and her eyes welled up with tears, wishing it would stop.  Some of the nobles took the time to laugh at her again before turning back to the Marquesa, who was smiling in a most sinister fashion.  “I think Chorinna’s night is about to get a lot harder, too.  She’s caught the attention of my guards, my maids, and my house, and there will be no place safe for her.”  Chorinna cringed back.  “Oh, don’t think of running dear Duchess, you know better than any of my guests that the doors of the mansion magically lock an hour before midnight and won’t open again until noon.  You’re trapped here.”
The crowd of nobles gasped loud enough that for the first time since the applause,  Annie’s gasping couldn’t be heard.  “Oh, never fear, faithful friends.  You know my gracious guests are treated better than anywhere in the world.  But my not so gracious guests…”

Chorinna saw a shimmer out of the corner of her eye.  “Oooooh, you’re in trouble now!” said a tiny voice no one else could hear.  She turned her head and her eyes focused on a tiny woman, dressed in green, floating on wings next to her.  The fairy waved her arms and Chorinna’s luxurious dress dissolved into a pile of ash at her feet, leaving her in her fine boots, a pair of white wool thigh-high stockings, and oversized underwear that was archaic for the day.  The crowd laughed as Chorinna’s hands immediately went up to cover her small breasts since she was wearing no bra.  “That’s right!” yelled one of the nobles, “you can cover those small boobs, but there’s no way you can cover those big-ass granny panties.”  Chorinna’s cheeks reddened, but she didn’t have time to let the scathing remark sink in.  The Marquesa waved her arm, but Chorinna could see that it was the fairy who cast the levitation spell.  Helpless to stop it even if she had known a counterspell, the Duchess found herself rising up, and over, toward the center of the dome over the room.  She shrieked wordlessly at the sensation of flying against her will.  “We’re going to have some fun, fatass,” said the tiny voice, as Chorinna felt something poke her in the backside.  


A moment later, the once-proud Duchess was dangling from the large chandelier in the center of the room,  held in place by her now stretched-out granny panties.  The size of the panties meant they had plenty of cloth to support her weight even as she kicked her legs and tried to reach behind her to get a grip on the chandelier.  But the amount of material also caused more discomfort as it wedged its way into her crack and pussy.  Down below, the laughing audience saw the Duchess struggling, her panties disappearing between her legs.  The cloth was straining and the tufts of pubic hair were now poking out on either side.


One person who had an easier time viewing the Duchess’s predicament, if only because she was lying on her back, still held in place by the golem arms, was Annie.  Her face registered concern at the large posterior dangling what she calculated must be fairly close to right over her face, although at the great distance, she realized she might be off by a meter or so.  That was all the rational thought she could muster before the manipulation of her genitals by the sensation wand blocked out her thoughts again.  


Up above, there was a tearing sound, and the Duchess looked terrified.  “Oh, don’t worry—do you thinking I want to kill my mistress most important guest?  No, you’ll live a long life…long enough to hear the other nobles talking about this night for decades.  Your social life might wish I let you die here.  But I have everything under control,  just like I did with the little minstrel down there.”
Finally, the stretched-out panties could no longer support the Duchess’ weight and with a loud rrrrrrriiip they let go.  The Duchess screamed as she fell toward the floor, and Annie managed a scream as well, since it looked as if her face would meet her secretive employer’s large, naked posterior at a dangerous speed.   Then she saw the fairy, who made some sort of strange gesture, and the falling Duchess’ course changed the slightest bit.  


Chorinna wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that the cake had broken her fall.  As far as she could tell, she hadn’t broken anything, and as she picked her face up out of the icing, she could still breathe, and see.  She was partly embedded in the giant cake and partially hugging it for stability.  The crowd applauded, and Jessica felt obligated to join them to try to maintain her cover.  



Annie breathed a sigh of relief, although the Duchess’ posterior still loomed over her, now just a few feet away—she might land on her if she fell, but any was convinced it would not be at a fatal velocity.  Still, having a nude stranger on one might not be the best way to meet.  That damned sensation rod again.  She had to get out of this.


“Oh, Duchess?” said the tiny voice, that both she and Annie could hear, since the fairy had revealed herself to Annie earlier.  “Are you safe now?  Would you like some cake?  Or…maybe it’s something else you need?”  Chorinna didn’t understand the insinuation, but she soon found the upper part of the cake, to which she was clinging, shifting.  She tried to dig her feet into the lower portion of the cake, but nothing seemed to help.  She was falling backwards.


As Annie feared, she soon met the Duchess backside up close and personal.  The cake-covered noblewoman was straddling her head now, her backside practically smothering the poor inventor.  The Duchess was trying to support herself as if on all fours, but the golem arms were holding Annie a bit off the floor, so most of her weight was resting on Annie’s face, her head just above where the sensation rod was inserting and removing itself.
“At least take your boots off if you’re going to do that!” said the fairy, and with the wink of an eye, both Annie’s tall boots and Chorinna’s short boots were removed from their feet and placed neatly against the far wall.  “Now THAT’s more proper,” the tiny voice said, self-satisfied.


"I'm sorry..." the big woman whined, trying to climb off of Annie.  Unfortunately, she lost her balance and Annie had a mere moment to breathe before the backside was smothering her again.  Another golem arm appeared out of nowhere and smacked Chorinna's backside loudly.  "Now, now, no getting up!" said the tiny voice.  Annie calculated that the fairy, amused and cocky might be flying a bit too close to her electro-gauntlet.  And the grip of the golem arms might allow enough flexibility to move her hand just barely enough.

((Well, that's what I meant about worrying I was writing too much for Annie!  For the time being, she's being smothered under her secretive employer's backside, and her first option is to stick out her tongue or not...lol...but she can, perhaps, get free.  As for the other characters, just pick up where you left off...it is possible to witness and react to this or leave the room and miss it altogether.  Anyway, I think I'm done with the big-ass cake in the middle of the room.  Niniane's bit was predestined from the start--it is a main part of the story I wrote and later modeled this adventure on--the second use of the cake was merely to introduce our employer in an unconventional manner...Annie gets to meet her first, like it or not.

It seems to me like things will be more openly hostile soon, so just a note about how Enferian-type rules work here. Completely stripping a non-essential maid or non-essential noble NPC might leave her crying in the corner out of the battle--but it won't stop the PCs or main NPCs (maybe those that have been featured and another one or two you'll meet soon. For good measure you should tie them up or lock them in the stocks. As for fairies, who knows how to defeat them--this could get rough.))

((heya..! As some of you know i've been quite busy with things that just aren't as awesome as this forum, sadly. Just finished catching up on this adventure -- it's been quite a journey! I've liked it, a lot, so far, and will probably expound on that in the future. In the meantime, I'd like to know where Halia is roughly so I can finally join in on the fun! I assume she's creeping around looking for the basement with Irlana, but if you give me a frame of reference, I can jump in wherever.))

Annie squealed and spluttered as Chorinna's generous hips pillowed against her face, still trying to squirm her way out of her humiliating predicament and back into relative modesty. The sensory wand showed no sign of ceasing its slow, methodical ministrations, making it harder and harder for Annie to properly concentrate, much less give her golem arms any sort of proper instructions, what with her voice wavering as it was.

It had all happened so quickly: The fairy had goaded her into dropping her guard, then taken control of her inventions somehow, and left her completely naked from the waist down in just a few embarrassing minutes. Chorinna seemed to have it even worse than she did, really, but that wasn't much of a consolation for the mousy, bottomless girl.

Oh-so-slowly, the sensory wand slipped in and out of her bare pussy, eliciting tiny, mumbled moans from the mousy inventor with every gentle push. Feeling both sides of the experience was just too much for her to handle, and she'd already had to bite her lower lip to muffle two tiny orgasms. Oh gods, how embarrassing! She just hoped no one had seen her o-face...

With a third orgasm building inside her, Annie knew she needed to do something before she shamed herself yet again. Squirming and struggling underneath Chorinna, she tried her best to roll the larger woman off her, hoping to save the both of them from even further humiliation. Now that she knew there was a fairy causing so much mischief, she might stand a chance if she could just...get...free...

Her golem arms were pinning her wrists down, with a third delivering all manner of spanks and gropes to Chorinna's expansive backside, making movement for either of them rather difficult. Annie managed to move her head to one side, her cheek now resting against Chorinna's pubic hair. This might give her a chance to command her golem arms once more, however.

"S-Stop! Shut down! Release us! Sh-Shut down the sensory wand!" the helpless inventor squealed, hoping this would work. Annie's toes splayed out as the sensory wand gave one last thrust inside her, coaxing a tiny, needy whine from the mousy girl's lips. She managed to hold back her orgasm, however, as her invention began to retract into her pack, its grip on her wrists slacking enough for her to carefully roll Chorinna off of her.

Standing on shaky legs, Annie immediately covered her bare crotch with both hands, blushing prettily as she tried desperately to search for her pants and panties. Her skirt and pantyhose were nowhere to be found, but she did spot her white, polka-dotted panties peeking out from underneath a tablecloth. Gods know how it got there, but she'd take what she could get. Scrambling over to the table, Annie quickly pulled her panties back up her legs, still attempting to cover those with her hands as best she could. The mousy girl continued to blush angrily, barefoot and in her polka-dot panties, as she scanned the area for the troublesome fairy.

"Alright, where are you, you little troublemaker? Maybe we should see how you like getting stripped and embarrassed in front of everyone, huh?" Annie threatened, her voice doing its best approximation of a growl.

((Nice contrib!!!  I will think about it and write something after work, but now I only have time to respond quickly about Halia.  She and Irlana are indeed searching for an entrance to the basement, and the party of Miryala, Niniane, and the maid Nessa are back in the serving areas looking for her, because Nessa, being a spy who has spent the last few weeks trying to get in there  will show her the way.))

Chorinna got up from her undignified position on the floor and started to dust herself off, when she remembered she was covered in cake icing, so she shrugged and licked her fingers.  At Annie's growl, the fairy appeared about 8  feet in the air, a good ten feet away from Annie and thumbed her nose at her, before disappearing again.  Out of seemingly nowhere, Annie and Chorinna heard another taunt, "The name is Feather Firebrand, and you won't forget it, fatass and chicken legs!  I'm not done with you yet!"

Their time to react the the fairies' taunting was limited, as the entire crowd was still staring at them.  "Put them in the stocks!" yelled Eorlyn, and a bunch of nobles charged toward them.  From another direction, Captain Marisol was approaching, sword drawn.

"Um, I think we should get away," said Chorinna, darting for the door to the serving areas, her fleshy body bouncing as she did so and leaving a trail of cake frosting behind.  Looking at her getaway options, Annie noticed that two directions were cut off, and these were not directions she wanted to go anyway.  The front door was magically sealed, she had heard, so that left following Chorinna, or the grand staircase.  Taking the latter might split up the crowd following them, but Annie would have to fend off whoever still chased her on her own.  On the other hand, she didn't know what skills this Duchess had, other than the ability to pay out large sums of money.  Would she be helpful?  Or just so much baggage like most of the nobles?  At least the place she was running might offer some narrower spaces, that could be defended, but what if they ran into too many of the maids who would inevitably show up?  Or that damned fairy again?

Jessica noticed that, instead of joining in the chase, the Marquesa was listening closely to Princess Adelia, who was pointing her way.  Perhaps that inauspicious meeting earlier was coming back to haunt her.  She, too, looked at her options for escape.  She wished she had done something to allay the Princess' concerns earlier, but what could she have?

Back in the serving areas, Halia and Irlana were checking yet another maid's bunk for cellar access or evidence of the location of the artifact.  A perfunctory search turned up a bunch of worn panties, some cosmetics containers, some bawdy doodles one of the maids had drawn on some rag-cloth and some light reading.  "Ugh," said Irlana, holding up an unusually skimpy and rather strong-smelling specimen of the former, "this room is no different from the last four.  And there isn't even a closet of clean uniforms here.  Judging by the heat, we must be nearing the kitchens.  We'd better find this basement door soon," she said, sitting on the side of a bed for a moment, "I'm getting bored of this."  Outside in the hall, they heard footsteps, and prepared to hide. That's when she recognized Niniane's voice, "They've got to be around here somewhere...Irlana, Halia?"

Shortly before Annie's performance and troubles began, Caterina had asked one of the maids for a towel to clean up.  When the maid asked her to wait as she went tot he laundry room to get it, Caterina saw an opportunity to get into the more closed areas of the mansion.

"Oh, you wouldn't leave me out here in these wet clothes, while you fetch a towel?"  "But the rules...I can't take you back there."  "I suppose I could just stay and tell the Marquesa what happened..."   "OK, follow me, quickly, before anyone sees."

The serving areas were unlike the guest areas of the mansion....the stone walls were left rough, and not plastered over.  The maid walked with speed and purpose, as she hoped no one would notice the irregularity of her activity.  Caterina, too, appreciated the delicacy of the situation, but she was a professional and this might bring her closer to the mission objective.  Still, she wanted to calm the poor maid down a little, so she made small talk, "What's your name?  I am the Contessa di Asti."  She realized after she said it, it might not have the desired calming effect on the servant, but the words were out there and couldn't be revoked.

"I'm Philippa.  Please, please, don't tell the Marquesa what happened, I'll do anything..."  "Anything?" Caterina thought, but didn't say.

After a brisque walk in which they passed several doors to various closets, servant's quarters, and workrooms, Philippa slowed her pace.  "Do you hear that?" she asked, now standing as still and quiet as possible.  Caterina did indeed hear the voice of a woman calling for help.  

Philippa tiptoed to the doorway, not knowing what to expect, and Caterina moved much more stealthily, having a great deal more practice at that activity.  Philippa peeked into the room, then rushed in, and Caterina followed.

The laundry room was a bit of a mess.  There were signs of struggle, things knocked out of place, and an unusual amount of water splashed outside the washbasin.  There was also a rather plump maid standing against the post of a sturdy shelf, her arms tied behind her back and her ankles and torso tied to the post.

"Philippa!" she called, "untie me."  Philippa ignored Caterina's presence in light of this disturbing emergency and rushed over to untie her coworker.  "How did this happen?" she said as she crouched down and undid the knot around her ankles, inadvertently giving Caterina a full view of her pantied backside under the short maid dress.  Caterina, for her own part, looked at Philippa's uniform, thinking it was just about her size.

"It was that damned Nessa.  She's a spy I tell you--or some kind of burglar.  She brought a bunch of strangers back here who were posing as maids--wait, who's this?" Evelyn said, gesturing to Caterina with her head since her hands weren't quite untied yet.

"This is the Contessa di Asti.  I--accidentally spilled wine all over her...I brought her back here to clean up and dry off."  "You know you can't bring nobles back here." Evelyn said, glad to step away from the shelf and rubbing her wrists where the ropes had bit into them.  "It's against the rules."

"Milady insisted.  Please, Evelyn, have some understanding."  "Something weird is going on here, and this is just another wrinkle to it," said Evelyn, searching for the largest maid outfit she could find on the shelves, knowing that nothing would be her size because half her clothes were wet in the bottom of the washbin and the others were on Niniane, who knows where.  "Once I find something to wear, you'll all have to come to the head housekeeper with me."  "Please, Evelyn, just let her dry off and return to the party.  I don't want to be punished, it wasn't my fault."  Dragging a tiny pair of panties that were far too small for her up her thighs with some difficulty, Evelyn responded, "We're going to the housekeeper, and that's final--as you saw by the ropes around my wrists, we are dealing with a matter that concerns the security of the whole manor.  I've already suffered from this lot and I don't intend to be punished for not alerting our boss to them to boot!"

Caterina had long ago learned that the best way to understand a situation was to remain quiet and let other people talk as if you weren't there.  She had heard enough, though.  It was time to act, before Evelyn could raise the alarm.  She'd try reason first, but then, she'd need a plan.

"You would have this poor girl here spend the rest of the night in the stocks through no fault of her own, just not to break your precious rules?"  She hoped to talk Evelyn down with carefully chosen words, but there was something she forgot to consider.  "Since when do you nobles care for our kind?  Are you one of THEM?  This doesn't seem right."  Luckily for Caterina, Evelyn was a good and faithful employee, but lousy at intrigue and strategy.  She was in the process of trying to slide a dress that was too small over her head when she revealed to Caterina that she saw through her disguise.  Taking advantage of the situation, Caterina closed the distance between them, "Oh, I'm very caring.  Let me help you with that."

Caterina grabbed the dress, which she had already noted was very unlikely to ever fit Evelyn, and tugged it down so that the waist of it was well stuck on her breasts, the upper part of it covering her face and trapping her arms.  Then, she pushed Evelyn into Philippa, and the two of them tumbled to the ground.  In moments, she had grabbed the rope that Evelyn had been tied up with, and wrapped it around the two maids.

"I'm really sorry, Philippa," she said as she tie the two maids to one another, "but we can't go reporting to to the housekeeper."  Philippa's pert breasts strained against the ropes. Caterina pulled the dress off of Evelyn's head so she could tie her wrists, and to allow the maid to see and breathe easier.  "Let us go!" Philippa yelled.  "I knew you were one of them," said Evelyn.  "Silencio," said Caterina, picking up a two pairs of panties from those neatly stacked on the shelves, and shoving them in each of the two maids' mouths as a gag.  "At least they're clean," she said in response to the muffled moans of the two maids.  "Now, to change out of these wet clothes."  She pulled Philippa's uniform off of her, then turned her back to the tied-up duo as slipped out of her party dress and changed into it.  She did a quick spin and looked at the uniform's fit, "Molto buono." She started to leave the room, then returned and took the remaining uniform off of the floor, throwing it in the washbin. "If you get untied, I'd really like not to be followed," she explained, as she headed out of the room.






((If anyone wonders why I post and then go back and edit, this is why--my computer crashed while writing and I was lucky to save what I had written so far--also, I go back and insert images sometimes.  Very rarely, if I posted something recently and no one has responded yet, I go back and make it cooler...for example, why should there be a maid uniform for Caterina's disguise lying around when she can take it from Philippa?))

While Caterina had been off in the laundry room, Annie's performance and problems with her golem arms, and Chorinna's toast and problems with Feather Firebrand had taken place.

Annie had gotten the arms to retract, and she had replaced her panties, while Chorinna was charging for the door to the serving area, several nobles and a few maids in pursuit. Just as she arrived at the door, it swung open--a maid with a whole cart of desserts was entering the main hall from the serving areas. It looked as if the escape route might be blocked, and the pursuers were closing in. "The arms, minstrel, try the arms!" Chorinna cried, pointing to the cart that blocked their escape. She knew little about Annie's golem arm-pack, but she assumed that its humiliation of Annie had been a malfunction, probably one of Feather Firebrand's making. And Chorinna had experienced the strength of the golem hands firsthand only moments ago. She turned to face the pursuers, and looked for another way out. The maid pushing the cart stood behind it, dumbfounded, with a look of realization that her cart might be in someone's way, but an uncertainty if it was useful for her employer that it remain there.

Surprisingly to Chorinna, the Marquesa's voice called Marisol off her pursuit of them--there were plenty of maids and nobles ready to catch them and put them in the stocks. But, after a brief word with Marisol, she started into the crowd of nobles. Jessica realized Marisol was coming directly at her, and she knew what that meant. Not wanting to be caught, she made for the grand stair. To her surprise, Marisol diverted from her path. She was headed for Alison. With most of the room focused on Chorrina and Annie, Jessica looked at her options to save any of them. She lost her focus for a moment, hoping that Irlana was safe. Standing at the foot of the stairs, she paused for a moment. As soon as she started to climb these stairs, her disguise would be meaningless. She planned on retreating up them for certain, but maybe her magic could be used to help her companions before she had to.