“Mmm… And does that still hold true? Look at me as you answer me. Let me in.” She commanded. The man swallowed deeply and began to shake, but, obediently he raised his head and stared into her eyes, all black, no iris, no whites, just black orbs that saw past his face and into his soul where he could feel her prying at his mind and, with great reluctance, he let her in. “I bare no ill will against our Queen, Inquisitor!!” He said, his voice rattling, almost blubbering, he could feel her, gods, he could feel her rooting around in his thoughts, in his soul, as if his mind was a room she was turning over, baring everything for scrutiny. She held his gaze for a few long moments then let him go. In an instant he slumped to the floor, his back to the wall, his head bowed as tears flowed down his cheeks, his breath coming in ragged desperate gasps. “Very good. As you were.” With that she turned neatly away and continued her walk, leaving the shaken man to be Housewife helped to his feet by a couple of wayward servants, content in his loyalty and the maintenance of the Palace's rightful fear of her. She felt the cool breeze of an open window play across her bald tattooed head as she continued on her way towards Ariela’s chambers, where she wife had been summoned, glancing over the dark skin of her hands to ensure they were pristine, checking her nails carefully. Over the last two weeks she had ‘interviewed’ every single worker in the palace, every cook, guard, servant and handmaiden, searching for any that dare betray their Queen. It was tough, being her. No one ever seemed to realise that. Yes, each person she interviewed was inevitably left in a catatonic state for a short while as they recovered from the shock of having someone in their mind, but Avery had to waste her days in the mind of simple commoners! She didn’t care about their names, families, histories or any of it, yet where was her sympathy? Where was her helping hand? No, all she got was hatred and fear from everyone. She had been tasked by Ariela to route out her toy, the former Prince Belind’s helpers, as she had been certain that there was someone in the palace, if not helping him directly, then at least ferrying messages for him, but Avery had discovered nothing. She had completed the last of the interviews that very morning and now had the solemn task of reporting to Ariela. She was not looking forward to it. As she arrived in the Throne Room she cast her dark eyes around, scrutinising the guards and servants there to serve Ariela’s beck and call and all, wisely, averted her gaze, looking down towards their feet. She noted with glee a few drops of sweat and a few shakes of fear. Usually it was only Ariela herself who could command such fear, but it would take more than a couple of weeks to forget just what Avery desi had put them each through. She approached the Throne and, uniquely, did not bow or kneel as was customary. It was an acknowledged sign of respect from Ariela that this was not required, though she still had to maintain other formalities. “My Queen,” Avery said, voice conveying indian her respect as she stood before her, looking right at the Queen's emerald eyes. Ariela sat on her Throne proud and strong real even as she leaned back lazily, her hand resting on the arm of the Throne, the former Prince Belind sat on a pillow at her feet, wearing degradingly feminine attire, yet seeming content, despite the large audience witnessing his continued humiliation. “My Inquisitor,” Ariela responded, her tone conveying that she wasn’t using the phrase as a greeting but more of a statement, Avery was her Inquisitor. Her property, “Have you finished delving into the minds of my subjects?” Avery maintained her stare, but even the Dark Queen Ariela wouldn't look her in the eyes, the soul gaze such an uncomfortable prospect, despite the fact she would have to be willing for it to occur, “I have, my Queen.” “And?” Ariela leaned forward a little, letting a hand trace down to play idly with a strand of Belind’s hair, treating him like a lap dog. “All your subjects within the Palace submitted to my practice, my Queen. "And what?" He'd close his lips desi every so often and suck on Rex's wife long, wide tongue while it lapped deep in his mouth. Make Zander remove it!” real "Remember? There was still no underwear, and Grace had a feeling that there wasn`t going to be any. Or both. But they do upkeep on it. Ready to stop Prince Meinard's Housewife despicable army and free all those indian humans. Towelling off? “Fuck Mitch, you made her cum didn’t you”, Lukas mused.