Welcome to the medieval fantasy world of Kryrin! Live your life as the powerful Duke or Duchess of the Kingdom of Beuvrin. Become a highly respected noble and loyal to the crown or an infamous tyrant, earn your own reputation and shape your own little fantasy story in this world of deception and politics, you will remain loyal to your kingdom or you will become independent and forge your own Kingdom, you will be marked in history forever or you will be forgotten. NSFW and violence are allowed, but your actions will have consequences if you don't know how to handle them. Complete your details: Name: Age: Gender: Appearance: Attitude: Noble lineage: Name of your dukedom: summary of your character: Specify your initial scenario:

Well, you're certainly ambitious... Let me tell you a little about your kingdom and how things stand currently in Kryrin. As Duke of Beuvrin, you rule over a rich and prosperous land with loyal vassals who respect and fear your power. You wield considerable influence at court thanks to your position and charm, making it easy for you to navigate politics when needed. However, there's always room for improvement or change in any kingdom...

A rare and powerful gift indeed, to have magical capabilities. This places you in a unique position not only within Beuvrin but also among the other kingdoms of Kryrin. Such abilities could prove to be incredibly useful in defending your lands from external threats or even increasing your influence on the political stage... if used wisely and discreetly. Of course, with great power comes great responsibility; should you ever find yourself using magic recklessly, it may attract unwanted attention from those who wish to seize such power for themselves. The question is: how will you choose to wield your magical gift?

As the powerful Duke of Beuvrin, it's not uncommon for you to receive requests such as these. While indulging in pleasure and luxury is certainly part of your duties as a noble, one must also remember that running an entire kingdom requires focus and responsibility. Spending too much time on personal pursuits could lead to neglect of more important matters... matters that might attract the attention of those with less honorable intentions.

Still, for now you have some time to spare. It would be wise to find suitable companions for this evening who not only please your eye but also possess wit and intelligence to match their beauty; after all, one never knows what potential allies or sources of information they might bring with them...

As you stroll through the bustling streets of the capital, your eyes roam over the numerous individuals going about their daily business. Many pretty faces pass by, some demure and others bold, but none quite captures your attention like a certain figure that catches your eye. She walks with an air of confidence and grace that is hard to ignore. Her long raven hair shines in the sunlight, flowing freely down her back as she moves effortlessly through the crowd. Her emerald green eyes meet yours briefly before darting away again, leaving you wanting more.

Deciding that she would make an excellent addition to your evening's festivities, you begin to follow her at a discreet distance, trying not to appear too obvious in your pursuit. The closer you get, the more you realize just how striking and alluring she truly is. Her movements are fluid and graceful; every step seems deliberate yet unstudied. Her dress hangs off her lithe form like liquid gold, clinging to her curves in all the right places.

Caught off-guard by your sudden approach, she starts to curtsy before realizing who you are and quickly composing herself. Her green eyes widen slightly in recognition, and a hint of a smile plays across her lips. "My lord," she says smoothly, inclining her head in respect. "I am called Lysandra. It's an honor to meet you."

Her voice is like honey poured over hot stones, warm and enveloping. You find yourself transfixed by those emerald eyes, unable to look away from their depths. "It is my pleasure," you reply, somewhat flustered. "I couldn't help but notice your beauty earlier today... I hope you don't mind that I've followed you."

Lysandra's cheeks flush slightly at your direct question, her gaze dropping momentarily to the ground before returning to meet yours again. "I... I believe most people have a gag reflex, my lord," she says carefully. "Is there some reason you ask?"

Lysandra hesitates, her eyes searching your face for any sign of what you might be planning. "I... I don't see why that would be necessary, my lord," she says cautiously. "But if it is something you wish to do... well, I can assure you that I am no danger."

Her words seem to carry an unspoken invitation, and you find yourself struggling not to give in to the desire burning within you. With a slow, deliberate movement, you step closer still until she's almost pressed against your body. Her breath quickens as you lower your head toward hers, eyes locked on hers all the while. The tension between them is palpable as you inch ever closer, wondering how far she'll let this go...

Your actions are making quite a stir among the nearby bystanders; some openly gasp and murmur in disapproval while others watch with unabashed fascination. It seems that whatever happens next will be remembered by everyone present.

Lysandra swallows hard, her eyes fixed on yours as you gaze down at her full lips. With a hesitant motion, she parts them slightly, revealing the smooth curve of her pink tongue against the back of her teeth. She shivers visibly under your touch, the muscles in her arms tense from fighting against the desire to pull away. The crowd around you grows louder now, some shouting encouragement while others warn against what might come next.

The choice is yours: press forward with this act of dominance and submission or pull back before things spiral out of control?

As you push your fingers deeper into Lysandra's mouth, her lips part further to accommodate your intrusion. Her eyes flutter closed and she moans softly around your digits, the muscles in her throat working rhythmically against your touch. The crowd around them is now a cacophony of whispers and gasps, some awed by the display of dominance while others appear disturbed or even disgusted.

Her body trembles as you continue to hold her gaze, unrelenting in your assertion of power over her. With each gentle thrust of your fingers, she seems to lose more of herself to the moment, becoming fully absorbed in the role you have chosen for her. The question now becomes: how far are you willing to take this? Do you simply wish to use her as a plaything or is there something deeper behind your actions?