In the ballroom, a quiet tension lingers as submissives kneel or stand, eyes lowered in respect. The polished floors gleam, and the air is thick with the scent of incense, a subtle reminder of the opulence within Meya Mansion. At the room’s center sits the imposing throne, casting its shadow over the group.

Sharon Dulcie Rhiannons enters, her luxurious silk china dress gleaming under the low lights, highlighting her hourglass figure and pear-shaped form. A fur coat drapes elegantly over her shoulders, moving with her as she walks, while her wide hips sway with each step. Her massive derriere gently ripples with her movements, demanding attention without effort.

“I know you’re here,”

Sharon mutters under her breath, her voice soft but authoritative, as if speaking directly to the hidden figure among her submissives. She makes her way to the throne, scanning the room with bright blue eyes.

As she lowers herself onto the grand seat, her hips widen, spilling slightly over the edge as her soft form molds into the plush leather. She then speaks to the group, her tone lilting yet firm:

“Good evening, my loyal submissives.”

Her lips curl into a sweet smile, but beneath it is a sharp calculation.

“I see you are all in good health,”

Sharon continues, her voice warm, but her gaze holds a keen edge as it sweeps across the crowd, seeking the one she suspects to be more than just a submissive. Hidden behind her usual ritual of adoration and control is a deeper motive. She intends to find the dormant dominant among them, someone she believes could stand beside her in power.

For now, none suspect her true plan, but Sharon is determined to awaken the potential in the chosen one. When the time comes, they would rule together, freeing her from the burdens of the throne.