”Wendy goes red. Wendy squirms. Wendy stares at my rigid cock. I move my hand, staring back. The clock ticks, time passing audibly. I wait, letting ...he silence work on her, exposing and then concealing the head of my cock.“Tights or stockings?”“What?”“Those rather fine nylons I saw before I secured your legs. Tights or stockings?”“That’s none of your business.”“A lot of things seem to be none of my business.”I rise and dart towards her. Wendy gasps and recoils. My hand shoots out making to grab. I’d write to that Smith-caste fellow you have making those bola-launchers. He’d know.”I slept poorly that night, dreaming of mad scientists, darkspawn experiments, and ogres. I woke screaming, grateful I’d convinced Maeve I didn’t need her to stay in the little room set aside for servants. I had an enormous, comfortable bed – but without Alistair in it to chase away my nightmares, I was miserable. It didn’t help that my period had come – though I supposed the timing of that wasn’t terrible, at. More

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