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Journeys of a Demon's Daughter // Nobody x Cherubian //

RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

Xorien was mostly silent during her litany, setting a glass of some very strong smelling liquor on the small table beside her before settling down in a chair across from her, the wood creaking beneath his massive weight. A half-smile appeared on his face rather early on and remained throughout the story, and he gave little reaction at all save for a mild quirking of the eyebrow when she mentioned Nialech. When she at last asked her question he merely chuckled. "I will admit that I was perhaps a bit harsher in my dealings with him then I needed to be. Yet when a ship begins to sink, one grabs everything valuable they can before heading for the life boats. I was not the first to demand Sorrel pay his debts, and I sincerely doubt I shall be the last before there is simply nothing left to claim."

He took a drink, sighing slightly in enjoyment. "But I must say, for all of the unpleasantness you seem to have performed quite admirably. Once Arthour returns he shall give you your fee for this engagement, the standard price for this sort of work, and I would be more then happy to discuss future employment opportunities with you. Perhaps over dinner?" he asked, the words a question yet his tone just short of a command.

It was only a few moments later that someone knocked, the library's door opening to allow Merea Azdak to slowly walk in, Billingsley a few steps behind her. The girl's simple dress and modest clothes were gone, replaced by nothing but a thin loincloth wrapped around her waist and a thick leather collar about her neck. Her face was bright red with shame, yet as much as she seemed to want to cover her young breasts her arms stayed trembling at her side. It seemed as though her behavior had already been corrected; the red stripe of a whip lash was written upon the pale skin of her stomach, her eyes red and puffy from weeping. As she slowly walked forward, the subtle shifting of the cloth revealed the chastity belt beneath the loincloth, a small padlock upon its side sealing away her market value.

"Ah, thank you, Billingsley," Xorien said with a smile, the old butler bowing slightly towards his master before vanishing back out into the hallway. "Would you care to remain while I examine the merchandise?" he asked Verialyn, his eyes never leaving the girl's smooth flesh.
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

It took a bit of an effort to remain stoic and calm. Verialyn was hardened by the events in the mansion, by shrugging off the wailing and weeping, and had resigned herself to her role as slave procurer, seemingly written off the events as inevitable, but still seeing the girl like that was not truly pleasant, at least not for her.

So as Xorien openly oogled the girl she pushed herself up, and looking at him with her best inscrutable expression she replied to his offer “Maybe later. But first I would like to continue the conversation we had before we were disturbed. In private.”
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

The calm smile remained on Xorien's lips, his eyes flashing over to her and coldly studying her expression for a moment before he finally spoke. "Step outside, slave, and wait by the door." Merea was still, seemingly not realizing that he was even speaking to her, until a sudden baleful glare sent her scurrying out the door with a squeak of fear.

Xorien waited until the door was shut before he began to speak again. "I sense that you find something about the situation to be objectionable. The realities of business are often harsh, but they are realities. Or was there another problem you wished to discuss?" He seemed perfectly calm, delicately sipping at his drink as he awaited her response.
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

“You are sensing correctly” Verialyn replied, just as calm as he was. The way she judged Xorien there was no pint in displaying anger or fury. If anything, it would weaken her standing with him. Plus, she abhorred such uncontrolled and senseless outbursts of temper, one of the reasons Sorrel had rubbed her a particularly wrong way, even more so than his ranting usually would.

“I can not say I am fond to see how the girl is treated, and I personally think doing that to her is one great big waste of potential, but that is no longer my decision. What I would like to know more about, though, are your motives.” Pausing for a second she finally began to elaborate.

“I can understand that you want to salvage as much money as you can out of this ‘sinking ship’ as you so precisely described it. But if that is your goal, why settle for the girl? If Arthour has not bullshitted me completely you would have cashed in significantly more confiscating his house and his holdings. Plus it would mean less competition in the future. So just taking Merea, even giving me the option to settle the affair that way, does not make sense. Unless you have other goals.”
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

Xorien was silent for a moment, nodding slightly as she explained her concerns. Finally he shrugged slightly, setting his drink down upon the small table beside his chair. "Whatever skills the girl may have, regardless of how useful she is in other applications, whoever her ultimate owner ends up being, she is still a slave. Slaves will be expected to be able to serve their master in whatever way he wishes, and I sincerely doubt that anyone who purchases her will do so purely for her mind," he said with a faint chuckle. "The earlier she learns to perform, the easier her life will become.

"As to your other concerns," he paused for a moment, eyes glinting as his voice became colder. "I am not in the habit of explaining my every move to those who work for me. At a certain point you simply must be willing to accept the tasks I give to you; even if you cannot immediately see the ultimate purpose, you may rest assured that I do. I suppose I could explain, if you wish to be seen as the sort of employee who will constantly question her employer." His tone suggested that he might not have very much use for such an employee, even if his words said nothing of the sort.

Suddenly he smiled, his voice once more warm. "Was there anything else?"
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

Verialyn listened silently to what Xorien had to say to her. Maybe from his point of view it made sense. He was looking for tools, perfectly functioning tools, it seemed. Not loyal human employees. She had hoped she would garner a better understanding of him with her questions, and maybe she had. Only she did not like the result. Or maybe his ulmitate motives were truly altruistic, and just shrouded in mystery for his own safety. But somehow she doubted that.

Her mind made up of sorts she saw nothing wrong with having another meal and staying one night under his roof before embarking on her own again. She'd be a complete stranger in this city, so at least she'd like to start rested and with a full stomach, not weary after a long, stressful day.

"No, I have no further questions." she therefore replied, returning the same warm smile he had given her.
 
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"Splendid!" Xorien said with a suddenly broad smile, any hint of warning or coldness completely gone as he smiled beatifically. "I would hate to think that something so trivial could disrupt our future business. It is quite rare to find someone so talented and lovely," he added, briefly saluting her with his glass, "that I would hate to think we could not work together amicably."

Further conversation was disrupted by a quiet knock, the door opening just enough for Arthour to appear in the doorway. "I'm terribly sorry sir," he said with a slight bow, a thick sheaf of papers still in his hands, "but I require a signature acknowledging your receipt of the payment and your approval of the proxy's actions."

"Yes, of course. Have her come in as well," Xorien ordered, Arthour entering the room with a nod while Merea followed slowly behind, her head still down as she sniffled. "And if I may return to my original query," Xorien added to Verialyn as he took the paper, scanning it briefly before taking the proffered pen and neatly signing it, "would you care to remain while I examine the merchandise?"
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

Verialyn shook her head. Even on a better day she would not be especially interested in seeing a slave girl examined. And in this particular case she had definitely no desire to first hand witness what misery she had wrought on poor Merea. 'You are quite the coward' some inner voice told her, and maybe that voice was right, but there was not much she could do about it, at least not much that did not involve stirring up major trouble in a completely unfamiliar city.

"No" she finally spoke "that's not something im keen to see." Maybe Xorien would catch the double meaning of that statement. "Maybe Arthour and I can use the remaining time until dinner to settle my end of this affair?" At that she shot the small portly clerk a quick glance.
 
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If Xorien was at all perturbed by her words he gave no sign, merely smiling slightly and nodding. "Of course," he said, and Arthour quickly nodded and motioned towards the door for her to follow. The two of them quickly left the library, not quite fast enough to avoid overhearing Xorien's final words. "Now then, come closer slave. Let us see how skilled you are..."

The clerk quickly led her through the halls of the massive mansion and eventually took her into a small office, politely motioning for her to take a seat. "Standard fee for proxy services, percentage of the debt settled, hazard pay for one minor violent encounter," he murmured to himself, quickly working out several sums on a pad of paper before he unlocked and opened a small safe beneath his desk, setting the money upon the counter along with a small leather pouch to hold it all. The total appeared to be a trio of small, dark red gems, a small pile of golden coins and a larger pile of copper and silver. "Total payment, three hundred and twenty-seven drakes, three crowns, and seven pennies. I took the liberty of breaking up several drakes into crowns and pennies," he explains, indicating the pile of copper and silver, "and for ease of transportation I have included three tears, worth one hundred drakes each," he added, pointing to the gems. "If you would be so good as to sign this."

Once the paperwork had been properly tended to and tucked away, he looked up at her with a pleasant smile. "Is there anything else I can do for you, mistress?"
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

Verialyn nodded to herself has her fingertips lightly traced over the gems, feeling their cold, lifeless, smooth surface. They bore no remembrance of the deeds done and the suffering wrought to obtain them. The payment was good, she had to admit that, and she could almost feel the first tiny cracks starting to develop on her resolve to end this employment. She needed to eat, after all, and this seemed easy money. Maybe at least listen to Xorien's next proposal?

"Hmm..." she spoke loudly, though "does the hazard pay already include the surcharge for suffered injuries? Like the one I suffered on my foot when I thwarted the attempt to damage the debt payment." Usuallly those were handled separately, and she wanted to make sure Arthour had considered such. So she looked at him expectantly, her hands so far not moving to sign the receipt. If she was going to leave, she could use every coin.

"Once that is settled" she added "maybe you could show me to whatever room I am supposed to spend the night in, preferably combined with a reunion with the worldly posessions I left behind when we went on our trip towards the Azdak estate?"
 
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"Minor injuries that do not require medical attention are included within standard hazard pay, anything more severe would increase the payment to a maximum of one point five times the total medical costs," Arthour answered quickly, indicating the relevant sections on the receipt. Once he had the signature he nodded and placed the papers within a large drawer, finally leading her once more through the massive hallways towards a large bedroom.

The room seemed to be designed with visiting noblewomen in mind; an absurd amount of closet space and an exceptionally large vanity took up a fair portion of the room, along with a large bed that was easily large enough to hold three or four people. The decorations were just as tasteful and opulent as the rest of the house; Xorien seemed to have spent as much on furniture and artwork in this room alone as a peasant would on their entire house. A much tinier room was next door, presumably a servant's quarters for a personal maid or butler. Her belongings had already been brought to the room, bags sitting at the foot of the bed while her massive blade leaned against the wall. None of her possessions appeared to have been tampered with, or at least she could find so sign of them being tampered with.

Arthour waited by the door as she entered, pointing out a few features. "The rope there beside the bed will summon a slave to your room, should you require any further assistance or refreshment. The baths are of course available throughout the day and night."
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

“Not bad” Indeed the room was far from it. Not only would a peasant get a whole house for the cost of this room, he also could comfortably live with his whole family in its generous confines. Obviously Xorien was wealthy, and willing to show it, but by now that was not something new to her.

Verialyn took a few steps and sat on the edge of the bed. That one damaged sandal was hanging only very loosely around her injured – and by now already recovered – foot, and it had become no more than an annoyance, so she lifted her leg and began to take it off. “I think I will just rest until dinner. It should not be much longer until then. And I hope you will join us, as I am really curious to hear your recall of the day’s events.” The one shoe was dropped to the ground and she began the same process with the other, intact one.

“Speaking of dinner... Do you think I can go there wearing this” her feet were both bare now and her hands ran demonstratively down along the tunic and pants she had been provided with earlier “or is it custom to dress up even for private occasions in Ael Morish?” She truly was a stranger still, and the quicker she learned the local customs the better.
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

"Certainly, mistress," Arthour said with a slight bow towards her in acknowledgement of the invitation. "I am unlikely to remain for the entire meal, but I will certainly be there long enough to detail the relevant facts. The custom of dress varies with the individual master of the home, but it is most common to dress semi-formally unless eating with close friends or family. I am certain we can provide something suitable should you require it. Dinner should be in roughly ninety minutes," he added.

"Is there anything else?"
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

Verialyn pondered his last question for a second, before she replied "Not until you have a request you would wish to discuss."

While she waited for his reaction she approached the large arrangement of cupboards and took a moment to peer inside. As she had expected they all were empty at the moment. It would have been asking a bit much for them to be filled to the inhabitant's needs, considering the large variety of guests this room surely housed. Most of which likely preferred to bring their own wardrobe.

Which left only one option. A few steps brought her across the room, and with a resolute pull of her arm the servant bell rung. She was mildly curious what sort of servant would attend to her. Male or female, old or young.
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

Arthour nodded politely at her dismissal, quietly excusing himself from the room as she began to rummage through the cabinets. Most of the drawers and wardrobes were empty, yet there were a handful of objects scattered about the room. A few small jeweled cases with tiny padlocks upon them were in one of the dressers, presumably meant for jewelry or valuables to be left in the room. One drawer was neatly filled with towels and linens, all of them large and fluffy. The strangest thing was a small scroll tucked into the back of one of the drawers, bound with a thin red ribbon. When opened, the scroll bore only a few lines of text in a language unfamiliar to her.

It was only about a minute after she rang the bell that someone politely knocked upon the door, the person outside waiting to receive permission to enter before it was finally opened. As skilled and homely as Billingsley and Arthour were, it seemed that Xorien mostly chose his household servants based on aesthetics. The young man that entered the room was well-built and tall, body deeply tanned from hours out in the sun, and the collar and loincloth were the only clothes he wore as he knelt upon the floor before her. "How may I serve you, mistress?" he asked politely.
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

For a moment Verialyn just smiled down bemusedly at the near naked man kneeling in front of her, one hand supporting the elbow of her other arm, as the other fingers massaged her chin. Finally she replied, with a playful grin "Oh I am sure there are a lot of things you could do for me."

Letting this hang in the air for a moment, she became more precise "First, to be of any help you better get back up to your feet. Then I would like to know your name and what fortunate circumstance I have to thank for you serving me. Were you specifically assigned to me, or was it just coincidence that a man and not a woman is attending to me. Mind you, I am not complaining." That one was actually useful information that might give her a tiny bit more insight into the way Xorien's mind worked.

Her arms dropped back to hang loosely at her sides. "And once all that is done I would need something appropriate to wear for dinner. Since I am new to the city and the current fashion, your help again would be appreciated."

She was about to wait for his reaction, expecting him to leave and gather her some garments, when another thought struck her. "One more question, can you read?"
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

"It would be my honor, mistress," the slave said politely, though he seemed to have been very well trained; there was no more then the slightest hint of anticipation on his face at her playful words. He remained upon the floor, staring down at the floor, until she gave him permission to rise and he stood quickly, his arms behind his back as he stood at attention. "My name is Dillen, mistress. Master Quaric informed his household slaves that he believed you would be more comfortable with a man to serve you, and I was selected for the task. If you would prefer someone else, another slave can be brought."

When she asked for clothes he nodded slightly. "We have a small collection of formalwear for those unprepared, mistress, all clean and laundered. If they are not to your liking, I could send for a tailor to come and provide whatever you require." Her next question seemed to take him a bit by surprise, a slightly worried expression appearing on his face, but at last he nodded. "Some, mistress," he admitted. "Only enough to occasionally aid Mr. Billingsley with the records or bills of sale."

Once he had permission to leave he quickly vanished back into the house, returning several minutes later with an armful of clothes. "Excuse me, mistress," he murmured politely as he approached the bed and began laying the clothes out upon it. By the standards Verialyn was used to, the half dozen dresses ranged from a perfectly modest, long-sleeved number with a shirt that would have extended down to her ankles to a few strips of cloth that a not even a prostitute would consider clothing. Regardless, all of them seemed to be exceptionally well-made in fine silks and satins, designed for those with more money then modesty. "If you will excuse my boldness, mistress," Dillen murmured as he picked up one of the dresses, holding it up for her inspection; the sky-blue silk seemed designed to conform to a woman's curves as much as possible, breasts covered by cloth that rose over and around one shoulder. The skirt was cut at a diagonal, going down the entire leg on one side and only a few inches below the waist on the other.
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

Verialyn took a step to the left and then another back to the right, turning to view the offered dress at various angles, admiring the way the garment fell and reflected the light falling in from the window. Eventually one of her arms reached out and her fingertips gently ran over cloth, confirming that indeed it was of very fine quality and most pleasant to the touch. The cut was exquisite, and it would clinge tightly to her hips and behind. Maybe even too taut around her chest as it likely was tailored for an average sized woman, but that remained to be seen. As the saying goes, there was only one way to find out.

"You've chosen a fine piece, Dillen" she commented with a smile as her hand finally withdrew. "I think I am going to wear it for dinner. Maybe you can help me change? Once it is time to do so, that is. How much longer do we have?"

As she waited for his reply, she remembered something else. Which was the reason she had asked him for his reading skills in the first place. "Oh, I almost forgot." With these words she was already on her way towards the cupboard which contained the scroll with the red ribbon she had noticed earlier. Quickly retrieving it she turned around again and handed it to the slave as she inquired "Can you tell me what is written there?"
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

"Dinner is scheduled to begin in about an hour, mistress," Dillen said with a grateful smile towards her, bowing his head. "Enough time for you to perform any other preparations or other activities you may wish." His training was superb; there wasn't even the hint of innuendo or suggestion in the phrase 'other activities.' "I would of course be honored to assist you with anything you may require."

When she produced the scroll he took it a bit tentatively, unrolling it with a puzzled expression. There was a flash of recognition in his eyes almost immediately, yet he was still silent for a moment, his lips moving quietly as he slowly deciphered the script. "When the demons marched upon this world," he finally began to say slowly, occasionally pausing or stumbling over a word, "they claimed the daughters of man and tainted the world with their spawn. It is a passage from the Xidrun Histories, mistress, a religious text popular within the city..." He paused, still staring at the scroll with furrowed brow until finally he shook his head. "There is more written, but I am sorry mistress, I do not understand it. It appears meaningless to me," he added in a deeply apologetic tone, bowing his head deeply as he offered the scroll back to her.
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

Fortunately the slave's attention was focused on the deciphering of the parchment and so he did not notice Verialyn's momentary flinch as she became aware of what that text was saying. It likely was a plain coincidence that had nothing whatsoever to do with her. As the slave had mentioned himself, it was a very well known text here in the city. And still, what if not? Or what if it was a coincidence, but one that led her on a path to learn more about ... herself.

As Dillen was finished reading, or rather had resigned under the complexities of the remaining paragraphs, she was her calm, impassionate self again. "A religious text you say? That strikes me as a bit weird, master ro Quaric did not impress me as a very pious man. I wonder how the scroll found its way into that chamber?" The question, although intriguing her significantly, was posed as just an off handed remark. "But no point dwelling on it" and with these words she gently took it from his grip and placed it back into the drawer, resolved to find someone who could read the remaining passages to her. But not right now.

One hour to pass until dinner. She was a bit disappointed that Arthour had not shown any special interest in her beyond their business dealings, but Dillen seemed like an adequate substitute for a bit of fun and to brighten her mood after a stressful day. So as she began to remove her tunic, baring her upper body as if in the process of changing into the dress, she asked him "What is it with these collars all of the slaves in the house wear? Are they just decoration, or is there some legal significance behind them and all hell would break loose would you take off yours for a minute?"
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

"I am unsure, mistress," Dillen said with a slightly confused expression as he examined the scroll, seemingly hesitant to admit ignorance or failure before her. "I am not aware of Master Quaric ordering that it be placed here, or of anyone among the slaves that would do such a thing. I suppose it must have been left here by a previous guest," he finally offered, though he didn't seem prepared to volunteer any details about those past guests. He quickly surrendered the paper when she reached for it, his hands once more clasped behind his back as he silently awaited her next question or order.

When she began to 'change' his entire posture began to relax, clearly relieved that she didn't seem to be angry at his failure to completely translate the scroll. "Slaves must bear a mark of their status or the seal of their owners in all public places. The collars are the most common form of mark and are only required in public," Dillen replied with a faint smile, "but Master Quaric prefers us to wear them at all times. Would it please you if I removed it?" he asked as the smile broadened slightly, his eyes gleaming with desire as her breasts came into view. The self control he'd been taught began to slip as well, the front of his loincloth stirring slightly as something beneath began to slowly swell. Whatever she had in mind, he seemed to be more then ready for it.
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

By now the tunic had been discarded and Verialyn hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her pants, beginning to slide it downwards. Just as someone would do in the every day process of changing clothes. If it bothered her in the least that she had an observer while doing so she did not show it. Bending her upper body forward to allow her hands to reach deeper she tilted her head back to look up at Dillen and reply. “Actually yes, I would like you to remove that thing and hand it to me.”

By now her pants were beneath her knees, and she loosened her grip to let them drop all the way to the ground, straightening herself up again and stepping aside and out of the garments, all naked now. An amused smirk began to appear on her face as the first sights of his receptive reaction to her bare form appeared. It was definitely not the first time such happened to her, but some things never got old and it did feel good to be desired such. So her tone became even more playful as she lightly teased him “Say, have your previous mistresses not complained when you looked at them the way you do now?”
 
RE: Journeys of a Demon's Daughter

Dillen nodded as he raised his hands to the collar's buckle, releasing a faint sigh of what sounded like relief when the symbol of eternal servitude fell away. Even when the leather was gone its mark remained, a pale strip of skin around his throat that interrupted his deep tan. For a moment he closed his eyes, unconsciously raising a hand to rub the freshly exposed skin with a deep sigh before he finally extended his hand to offer her the collar. The collar was formed of a single thick strip of leather with a large metal buckle at one end, a layer of soft cloth padding the inside to prevent chafing; likely it was the only reason the slave's neck wasn't a bloodied mess from wearing it constantly.

For an instant there was fear in his eyes at her next words, visions of noblewomen who rather enjoyed tempting a slave and then claiming rape flashed through his mind as the breach in his training was pointed out. Yet after a moment he heard the playfulness in her words, the teasing expression in her eyes, and the young man decided it was worth the risk. "None of them have found reason to complain," he said as his voice dropped slightly, eyes briefly falling to the treasures between her legs.
 
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Verialyn slowly turned the collar in her hands, let her fingers run along the length of the band and spent a while examining Xorien’s crest etched into the metal piece at its front. Her examination done she continued to watch it for another few seconds lost in thought, seemingly oblivious to Dillen’s answer, before she spontaneously lifted it to her neck, both hands reaching up and around to close the clasp at her back, elbows held high and her massive globes lifted enticingly in the process. A little bit of fumbling, and the item was in place. Her neck naturally was not as thick as Dillen’s, and as a consequence the collar did not fit as tightly around hers, but it was adjustable enough to stay in place. Finally done she lowered her arms to her side, spreading them lightly in a gesture of presenting herself as she lifted her chin enough to give him a good look. “How do I look?” came her question with a mischievous grin. For some reason wearing that collar felt strangely kinky and arousing, at least as long as she did not have to suffer like its previous wearer had to.

Remembering Dillen’s latest reply she finally commented “Oh, so what did you do to those women to not mind your unseemly behavior?” If she had gotten the hint from his wandering gaze she did not show it, intent on a more explicit expression.
 
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The simple action seemed to nearly give Dillen a heart attack, his eyes widening as his newest mistress so willingly place the mark of submission around her own neck. When she asked how it looked it took him a few moments to respond, mouth opening and closing silently before he finally managed to quietly murmur "You look very beautiful, mistress." It seemed the safest option, a simple compliment that didn't acknowledge the strangeness of her actions. After a few moments he seemed to feel that something else was required, yet stood in silence as he tried to come up with something that didn't imply that she would make a good slave.

When she spoke again the confident smile reappeared on his face, silently thanking the gods for the change in subject. "Many of them found me to be quite skilled in providing oral service, as well as tending to their needs for as long they needed it." Normally he wouldn't dare without permission, yet something about this woman drove him to take the risk. His face remained perfectly calm as his hands fell to his loincloth, quickly untying it and letting it fall to the ground. Even if Xorien didn't care to make use of the male slaves himself he liked to make sure his female guests were well tended to; the slave's limp cock already seemed bigger then an average man, and it only grew as it began to slowly stiffen. "Would you care for me to demonstrate, mistress?"
 
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