(1312-07-25) House Glycine Fetish Ball
Summary: What it says in the title. It's all about feet. Coco Warning: some candid references in poses.
RL Date: Sat Jul 25, 2020
Related: Some, will be posted later.
audrialla clara cochonnet daniel desarae justine paris sylvie ysabelet yves 

La Glycine — Court de Nuit

The glorious dome of La Glycine rises overhead here, ribs of veiny marble with studs of bronze inset at measured intervals rise to meet at the wide mouth of the oculus above, through which a shaft of light moves over the course of the day, wending its way from one side of the atrium to the other in an insistent caress. The floor is a patterned sequence of white marble squares inlaid with green marble trellis patterns, at the center of each of which is a round golden circle around a stud of glistening emerald. In the middle of the floor, directly underneath the oculus above, is a round pool of rainwater with a high rim for seating and a collection of fish and turtles living inside.

The lofty space is open with a pair of giant bronze doors leading to the courtyard to the south, and the north wall is largely taken up with the descent of a massive stairwell which provides a dramatic route of entry down into the atrium from the Northern Wing and beyond. The Eastern and Western walls each sport two smaller archways; both the eastern archways lead into the Baths, while the two to the west grant access to the Gambling Hall and Hall of Oddities.

Furnishings are strictly at an ad-hoc basis, temporary for the need, but may occasionally include furnishings hung from the studs in the great domed ceiling.


The roundel at the fore of the Salon Glycine is done up in fine fashion for its annual Fetish Ball, with multicolored silks draped from the oculus and swirling around the walls against one another for a sort of dizzying effect, and, over the grand stairwell, there hangs a large tapestry, woven in myriad colors to a stunning depiction of Naamah herself… a sort of snail's eye view, as if she strode, a giant, over the proceedings, one massive and gorgeously formed foot in the foreground as if she were about to step out of it and into the middle of the festivities.

Underneath the hanging tapestry, at the top of the stairs, is a lush throne done up in blue silk, where the Pig Slut of Glycine herself can preside over the festivities; there she sits, cinched at the waist in a golden cincher, breasts free with footprints of blue paint pressed along them in her favored bright blue that matches her stockings, while her gold and white ruffled skirt is drawn up at the front to show off blue crotchless panties and a special strap-on bound around her thighs— in the shape of a foot with pointed toes. One of her adepts is at hand, nuzzling the wrinkled arch and rounded heel of the dildo, while one of her legs, slung over the arm of her throne, is pressing the slender heel of her remarkably high-heeled shoe into the mouth of a young man kneeling there, gazing up at the underside of the shoes as it presses him in the face.

In the center of the room, built up over what is usually the fishpond, is a rounded carousel painted with a pirouette top in swirling colors to match the silks above. Around the carousel are set up four stations, replete with couches and pillows strewn on the ground, at which different demonstrations and games will be happening over the course of the ball, with the one closest to the archway to the Hall of Oddities left free, in general, for those who would like to accumulate upon the pillows and let the evening really get going.

There is food and drink, of course, light noshes of cheese and fruit, sweets by Audrialla, nothing too heavy for an evening of heavy petting. Drinks are being served out of little glass slippers— just a fizzy white wine good for refreshment.

Ysabelet is one of the Glycine adepts that are present, and her back at least is covered as not to put the unfinished marque on display. Long blonde hair falls in an untamed cascade over the upper part of her back and her shoulders, brushing over the sleeveless dress reminiscent of Tiberian fashion, green silk with short skirts to show off her long legs. Legs whose feet are for now trapped in sandals, leather straps twining up till mid-calf. She is carrying a tray with an assortment of glass shoes filled with wine, ready to provide any guest that enters with a drink in greeting.

Clara is, in a delightful display of inter-House unity, sitting on the dais. Appropriately enough, at Coco's feet for the moment. She is wearing an almost scandalously sheer red dress that gives obvious glimpses to the slender body beneath, and would press over the line from 'clothes' to 'lingerie' except for some strategically placed embroidered roses. Her feet are clad in matching red silk slippers, the heel-less and easily removable kind that make them appear perhaps more ornamental than useful and more transient than permanent.

Daniel picks his way into the celebration with curiosity. The large man is easy to spot at his height and bulk especially as he pauses several times and just blinks slowly taking it in. The large man wearing tight silk for his trousers and his shirt with more than a few buttons apparently missing. It seems he has pushed no boundaries of scandal other than making the decision to arrive for the festivities. He pauses near Ysabelet and smiles as he reaches for a glass pausing only a half moment when he realises it's a glass shoe, "I don't think… I'm quite prepared for this. Hopefully this should help." He muses more to himself as he takes a sip.

It is an intriguing if not somewhat risqué occasion, and so a young lady enters with what would come closest to modesty as displayed by a d'Angeline. Justine has elected to put on a half-mask, dark blue lace with two openings to allow her to see, the dress matching somewhat, as it is of the same dark color, and from a fashion point of view, blending the Night Court with courtly attire. Dark blue lace at the neckline, a shimmering blue satin below in a flowing design that seems little inhibiting and easy to shed. A fine necklace decorates the pale skin of the lady, and her hair is done up in a fashionable manner. She wears dark blue slippers to match the dress, and she pauses at the doorstep, perhaps overwhelmed at the sight for a moment. To admire the truly decadent presentation, and perhaps to allow herself to be drawn in by the atmosphere. A shoe-glass of wine is snatched and brought to her lips as she looks up towards the throne, as a smile begins to form on her features.

Desarae arrives to La Glycine's ball, her arm tucked comfortably through that of her chosen companion for the event. Her features are hidden beneath a mask of smoke grey silk that covers the upper portion of her face from her brows to her cheeks. Decoration in the form of crushed glass splinters has been applied to the edges of the eyes, winging out to where the mask finishes in front of her ears. The glass glitters where the light catches upon it, throwing prisms of colour about the room. Her gown of stormy grey Ephesian silk is matt in texture, with the focal point of the dress being the silver brooch of a rose with needle sharp thorns that rests squarely upon the centre of her bodice. The fabric falls to the floor in a simple column that skims the frame, but not indecently so, before it flares out a bit at mid-calf to provide ease of movement. Her companion looks to be of Shahrizai blood, with sapphire eyes and blue-black hair that falls smoothly to a point beneath his shoulders. Glued at the hip, in perfect co-ordination they each accept a glass slipper of wine, then scan the room for familiar faces.

The pâtissière Audrialla has been invited for the sake that her sweet offerings lend well to the decadent atmosphere celebrating the foot. Amongst her selections today is choux dough shaped into, well, shoes. Each is baked and washed in an egg glaze and then lightly filled with a variety of flavors. Cherry and strawberry in a glaze, chocolate mousse, and a sweet vanilla pudding with a sprinkle of cinnamon. There are also chocolate shaped heels with a cherry at the tip of the toe. These are of the eating variety and not for wearing.

As she is not one of the famed beauties in service to Naamah, she wears off the shoulder orange-lily adorned green linens instead of something more revealing. She is, after all, a commoner. As for the feet, her slippers are plain black cloth; functional and practical. Hers are not the ones on display tonight. She stands, unobtrusive, off to the side with a draped table. Mysterious.

Paris has been hanging around, mostly inconspicuous, the handsome young man walking barefoot of course, his long black hair flowing down his back, a loose blouse and loose white trousers worn easily, as he's been greeting guests, handing out wine.. and he's also been taking advantage of passing often in front of Audrialla's stand and stealing or cadging a little treat now and then. He lifts an eyebrow at Desarae's entrance, but then makes his way to Clara's side, offering his help..

Coco lounges leonine upon her throne, watching from there the people as they enter— or else just letting her head loll backward and her eyes flutter orgasmicaly as the adept before her throne takes both hands to her foot-cock and begins to ply it with a delicious-looking massage, advertising her skills in the arena of a foot rub as much as anything else, an offering which may later give fodder to those a little less comfortable with the kink to explore it in a delightful but not very experimental manner. She also reaches out, spotting Clara kneeling at her throne, as well, and gives the girl a loving caress of the hair before leaving her to be tended to by her sweet deputy Paris. But a nod from another of her compatriots in Naamah makes her eyes come to their senses— it's time we were started. She pushes the forehead of the young man at the mercy of her lifted foot, nudging him backward and then drawing her foot up and away from him; the adept gets out of Coco's way as she draws he knees together and then stands, closer to six and a half feet in those heels than her usual six— just— towering, honestly, but still dwarfed by the massive form of Naamah Herself overhead.

She lifts her arms, and her voice carries from the top of the stairwell, the acoustics still very kind to her and her lungs— oh, so very healthy— grant her to be heard throughout the roundel hall. "Welcome, welcome, my delightful little perverts! Today we meet beneath the auspices of Naamah Who Comes Barefoot," arms aloft further, now, as though in archaic prayer, head tipped back to grin at the Patroness Angel, then, turning that grin, now rather more devilish in cast, on the assembled, "And it is my hope that you all may Come Barefoot this night, too."

"Before we begin to revel in earnest— if I may draw your attention to our little carousel!" The pirouette-topped one in the center of the room, not so little, really— it can provide some level of privacy from one side of the room to the other, at least, even if the sounds of moans and applause and laughter are likely to travel, whispering along the silks and running circles around the dome. "Boys?" And a few of them will jump forward to reach and turn the carousel by hand— out from tucked below the lacy overhanging eave all around the circular structure come slowly kicking outward a selection of six carved legs, articulated and mechanized through some device within, such that when it turns they stretch out and then kick backward in turns, a fancy-free to and fro like a maiden on a swing. Each of the legs is clad in a lovely stocking, each of different color.

"Each of these stockings has been kindly donated into Naamah's service tonight by a member of our Marsilikos community," Coco announces, and she will pause for a round of applause. "And not only that— they have each been worn for the better part of a week ahead of time. Plenty of time for them to get good and stanky," she curls a grin. "You will find posted at the carousel a list of personages… some who have donated, others who have not, for the sake of deniability all around. The names, you will find, encompass a wide range of our Marsilikos company… from one of our Duchesse's daughters to a common whore by the docks." That mischief, again, "Can you tell the difference?"

"Make your guesses for the gifters of these six left stockings, and hand them to those manning the carousel… The person with the most accurate guess by the end of the night will be this evening's grand prize winner. In the event of a tie, the entries will be marked by number as they come in, and the earlier one will surpass the later one. Now, grab a nosh, grab a drink… get to know those stockings at your leisure… and soon our first exhibition will begin," Coco opens up the ball with a flourish, and a small band of reed-pipe and flute players starts up a jaunty tune to offer a backdrop to the sorts of greetings and smalltalk that so often accompany the beginnings of these events— or to help people not be overheard at their guesses!

Daniel wanders the area clearly exploring. He pauses as he nears the array of treats and Audrialla. He considers the various ones before considering, "I'm detecting a deeply podiatric theme today." He pauses, "Why do I get the suspicion that these will end up worn and eaten before all is done." He does reach to take up one of the chocolate tipped ones. He says before turning to watch Coco's show. He blinks slowly, "It seems quite the game but the crowd is very….enthusiastic." He murmurs glancing to Audrialla to see the woman's response to pronouncements before he looks to the carousel thoughtfully as he muses, "I wonder if being no to the city will be such a disadvantage."

Clara beams up to Coco as she is stroked while the ringmaster of the foot circus departs to begin making her announcement. The smile turns to Paris as the young man comes over, and she holds out her hands to take his and rise with that Mont Nuit smoothness to her feet. "Almost time," she grins when she listens to Coco's words about the exhibition. "Do make sure to come ply me with wine from time to time," she offers with a pleased laugh.

The baker applauds politely for the spectacle of the stocking-go-round and giggles a little at the wide variety of those presented. Audrialla is a touch in awe with the beauties on display, the nobility and courtesans alike, and often finds herself bobbing a curtsey in greeting out of habit. Daniel's question is met with an echo of "Worn?" She looks up at him and shakes her head of golden hair. "Oh I hope not, m'lord. Anyone trying to walk in one of these would likely crush the poor pastry. I mean, I could have made -bread- shoes, all hard crust, but those would hardly be delicate enough to eat. I have more to showcase, later, but no- no walking shoes."

Ysabelet had met Daniel's tentative remark with a bright smile, as she lowered herself into a graceful curtsey while he took a shoe-glass off her tray. "Does one ever need to prepare?", she had quipped back before continuing on her round, offering a wink in passing to Paris and Clara before she arrives before Desarae and her companion to present them with the offer of the tray. "Good eve, and welcome to La Glycine," Ysabelet smiles, offering another curtsey. "Make your choice of white wine or red. And then… if you like, of a stocking?" A glance is shot over her shoulder towards the carousel, before her attention returns to the Mereliot lady and the man in her company.

"Can it ever be a disadvantage to be new to a city?", a female voice asks, not too far from Daniel, Audrialla and her assortment of sweet pastry shoes. It is the blonde lady with the dark blue lace half-mask, and she gives the tall man a charming smile. "Did you come around by accident, or because you heard of the occasion?" Grey-blue eyes glitter a little with amusement as she considers Daniel, then, before she decides to have another sip of wine from a shoe.

"Mademoiselle," Desarae says to Ysabelet, and with chosen slippers in hands, she clinks glass to glass with her companion. "I haven't managed to attend one of Madame Cochonnet's balls before now, it's quite the spectacle, is it not?" Her companion brushes a lock of hair from her neck as she sips from her slipper, then bends to murmur something in her ear. "You first then," she agrees, a sly smile curving her lips. "but be warned, I might pick your brains for the answers." Green eyes glitter behind the eyeholes of her mask as she watches him head for the carousel, and draining the rest of her glass, she replaces it on Ysabelet's tray and claims another. "And are you to be part of the entertainment tonight, mademoiselle?" she asks of the courtesan.

Daniel chuckles softly perhaps a little belatedly at Ysbalet's comment. He looks to Audrialla and smiles, "You have higher hopes for the audience than I. Oh? More to show case? I look forward to it." He says to her considering her curiously and then he glances to the half-masqued young woman. He laughs a rough laugh, "Well I don't know the…who is who… As for coming here. /That/ would be quite a shock wouldn't it? Just wandering in here unexpecting. I arrived earlier in the day and I asked what events were going on and I was told this would be the most… distinct gathering for a time." He takes a nip of the pastry from Audrialla's set and lets out a pleased sound and happily takes another bite.

Having opened up the festivities, Coco finds herself meeting lovers and well-wishers as she descends the stairs without even the aid of a railing (somehow!), kissing this one, squeezing that one, and all the while keeping in the periphery of her vision the quadrant of the rotunda, just to her left on her way down the stairs, where the first exhibition is being set up. Those who are, heavens, quite understandably distracted by the precious wares Audrialla has set up, or by the spectacle of the be-stockinged carousel, might well be forgiven for not noticing the long, fluffy bull's-hide ottoman being drawn out from against the wall to a position of prominence amid the couches where people can settle and watch the display. After the ottoman, there's a mahogany wooden frame set up with a top-piece that locks, and two padded indentations in the top and bottom— a set of stocks, in sort, with a gleaming plaque in bronze which people will have to come closer to read.

Once Coco has attained the bottom of the stairs, and with the initial greetings, light talk and bibations seeming to be well underway, she will keep the proceedings proceeding, magna voce, as they say. "Ladies and gentlesluts, for your approval, tonight's first exhibition will soon be underway just here to my left. Our good friends at the house of the Wild Roses have lent us one of their charming Roses Red, who will be presenting an exhibition of tickling and torture in the foot stocks for your entertainment," she announces, allowing people to begin to filter in that direction while Paris helps Clara get set up.

"This is the first ball I attend, of Mademoiselle Cochonnet," Ysabelet admits towards Desarae. "Last time, I was not allowed, too young…" She gives a light shrug of her shoulders. "And… still a novice. So… Would you think that he might make the right guesses and win the game?" A playful question thrown at Desarae, while Ysabelet glances after the lord that goes to check out the carousel. "Ah… as for the entertainment, we shall see, my lady. There might be a little game I will run later on."

Paris bats his long eyelashes at Audrialla, nodding and looking through her offerings some more, but he laughs merrily at hearing Daniel's words. "Well, it is definitely a good day then for you to sample the delights of the city in the fullest, my lord.." He inclines his head, the almond skinned courtesan clearly enjoying himself, but also taking part in Clara's setup..

"I am Justine," the same introduces herself, somewhat incompletely, to Daniel. "Consider yourself lucky for wandering in here, my lord, as you have found your way to the Marsilikos Night Court. Entertainments here are expected to be of the sensual kind." A pause, and an inhale through her nose as she hears Cochonnet's announcement, delays Justine's train of thought she might have been underway to pursue. Instead, she looks towards Daniel. "Well, here is your chance, if you'd like to tickle a female foot, I suppose."

Clara gives a shy smile as her part in the evening's festivities are revealed, and begins moving toward the area that Coco indicated would be her home for the next little while. That smile gives hints of both apprehension and excitement, and she moves toward the set-up—which, when the drape is removed, turns out to be exactly as the master of ceremonies mentioned. A set of ankle stocks with a small plaque on it labeled 'Clara. Signale: Lily', with a simple bed behind it so the intended can be comfortable. And next to it is a bucket of all kinds of toys and tools one might use on a helpless Rose.

Clara settles herself on the bed and puts her ankles into the half moons of the stocks, adjusting her dress to make sure she isn't flashing the whole room at least at the start. She then beams to Paris, kicking her slippered feet slightly. "If you would, ah, finish the preparations?" She asks.

Daniel considers, "Foot stocks. That's a new one." He admits and he glances to Justine and smiles, "A pleasure to meet you Justine. Daniel." He offers his own introduction. He then glances to Paris and he grins, "To the fullest? Well I wouldn't wish to over-indulge… but I suppose one must start somewhere." He muses and he chuckles and he glances to Justine, "Won't you show me how it's done?" He ask sin amusement as he finishes off one of Audrialla's treats. He looks curiously then at what might finishing the preparations be as he peers into the bucket looking thoughtful.

Audrialla seems pleased her wares are well received. The notion of Clara in the stocks gives her a moment's pause, green eyes widening and lashes fluttering in surprise. "Oh that's… interesting. I've not seen that before." She chuckles as Daniel asks the lovely Justine to demonstrate. "I pray you have a good time of it, sir. That is why we're here, after all," she adds with a grin.

"Mm. He might," Desarae responds to Ysabelet. "Though he does have a particular preference of taste, and being newly arrived in the city will be unfamiliar with those that might have donated." A brilliant smile as she claims another sip from her glass. "I shall claim more correct answers than he." There's an arrogant confidence in the tone of her voice, though her attention is claimed by Clara as she settles into the stocks. "Oh now that looks fun," she smiles. "Perhaps I ought investigate that before the poor woman is overly tortured."

Ysabelet smiles. "Does it matter? If one does find pleasure in exploring stockings, my lady, he may at least make a wild guess, based on the names on the plaque. It will make it more of a gamble." Which seems to be just up her alley.

"Show you how it's done?", Justine replies to Daniel, slightly amused. "What makes you think that I have experience in these things?" Still, she can't keep from shooting a glance over to where Clara settles in on the bed. "Anyway… I might try, might I not?" The blonde lady looks a little intrigued.

Paris makes sure Clara's feet stick out properly, the young man looking around, not at all suspiciously, before running his finger over each of the young courtesan's soles, as if to test things, as it were, before he beams and sweeps a deep bow. "My Lords, my ladies, gentlefolk, come closer..and do your best..your worst…"

Cochonnet makes up the back of the crowd coming to watch Clara be fastened and locked in, easily able to see over the heads of those in front of her, but, with some surprising amount of subtlety, she makes her way to along the wall and picks up one of the baskets of toys, handing it off to Paris to bear around to those who might be tempted to pick a tool of torment to play with. Clips to pinch toes, feathers and paintbrushes to tickle, small paddles for spanking, silk ribbons to tie up and tease. "Of course you might," she tells the woman in the blue mask. "Come, what would you use?"

Clara has even prepared for the evening, her feet obviously recently pedicured. Her toenails are even lacquered—one foot with the colors of Glycine, the other with the colors of the Rose Sauvage. She grins as she is locked in, and her slippers removed; she won't need them, after all. She looks like she is about to say something when Paris runs a finger over her soft soles, and she cannot help but let out a loud squeak of ticklish surprise. "Eeehehep!" She sputters, curling her toes.

Desarae is no stranger to stocks, having been a novice of La Rose Sauvage, and indeed she might well recognise this particular set since it's been sent on loan from there. "Well I hope to catch whatever diversion you are to provide later then, mademoiselle," she remarks to Ysabelet, then with her slipper-glass held lightly in one hand, and with her other hand held behind her so her knuckles press to the small of her back, she heads over to where Cochonnet and Paris now tote the basket of toys. She finds herself beside Justine, and tilts her head to an angle as she waits for her to make her choice. "Might I too?" she asks of Paris.

Daniel points to Justine's mask, "Well you did seem more prepared to be here than I." He points out and he glances to Deserae and Ysabelet with some amusement. He looks back to Justine encouragingly, "Come now I'm sure she'll respond in delight… I'm sure you can start with something simple she does seem.. to be all but quivering with anticipation. Thought hat could just be the young an's fault." He says looking to Paris in amusement as he 'tests' her preparation.

Paris beams brightly at Desarae and Clara, nodding , wicking wickedly as he has gotten a reaction out of Clara. "Please, go ahead…try whatever you wish..as long as our lovely blossom does not give her signale…" With his darker skin, the flash of his teeth looks even whiter.

Justine narrows her eyes as Cochonnet addresses her. "I will," she decides and hands off the shoe-glass to someone who will accept it, after downing the remaining wine, of course. With both her hands free now, she goes through the tools in the basket, smiling when another masked lady appears at her side. Her pick is a paintbrush. "Do you have any paint?", she inquires of Cochonnet. "It is not a requirement. But in case you have…?" Towards Daniel, she inclines her head. "I am not fond of tormenting, to the most extreme. But a paintbrush may tickle, not exactly torment. The Red Rose seems to be ticklish." With the paintbrush in hand, she makes her way over to the bed where Clara is already waiting. And in a first tentative try, she brings the brush to the base of Clara's left heel, touching there lightly, before painting an invisible line, in a slow swirling motion towards Clara's toes.

Clara looks to Desarae as she comes over to ask if she might, and nods. "I am here as an exhibit, my lady, for everyone who wishes to partake," Clara says with a smile, wiggling her toes. And then she sees the paintbrush wielding woman come up to her. "The line between tickling and torment is in degree I think, my lady," she points out before the brush makes contact with her heel and begins to rise. She gasps, her eyes wide as ticklish laughter begins to bubble out of her. Her feet dance as if there is anywhere they can go. She has small, well formed feet with delicate arches and soft pink soles, and they wriggle helplessly at the slow teasing that Justine gives them.

"We were playing with paint only earlier," Coco grins, the bright blue footprints on her breasts showing precisely how well that play went. "What color for my Lady?" she asks, and, no matter what color Justine requests, there will be some to be had at hand momently.

Daniel considers the various implements and then smiles as he reaches for a feather as well, "That seems a good place to start." He says and takes it up and then leans past Justine feather tip tickling at a toe. He reaches around Justine a little to do so and he smiles as he watches her painting against Clara's foot, "I'm surprised there isn't… right. I hope the paint isn't just to help people with their costumes should they become suddenly not enough." He says looking to Cochonnet and then he glances to Paris, "Do you have any suggestions? You seem quite familiar with her."

"Black," Justine requests, performing then another painting motion that will paint an invisible form onto the sole of Clara's left foot. "Not that I am that versed in things. But I remember a beautiful sign in Chi'in, someone once showed to me. They have an impressively beautiful calligraphy there. I am not sure I've memorized it correctly, but either way, this will be me paying homage to Chi'in calligraphy. Without really being versed in it." Words of apology, muttered, before Justine dips the paintbrush in the offered put of black paint and creates an interesting sign on Clara's foot sole, in one swivelling motion, the paintbrush caressing almost reverently the delicate foot as she completes the art there.

Desarae takes her time in looking through the basket of toys that Paris holds. She talks to him conversationally as she does. "I'm not sure I've ever met you, monsieur," she muses, picking up a feather and discarding it almost immediately. She's looking for something different with which to torment Clara; something — and she eyes what's currently being wrought upon the courtesan's feet — that nobody has thus far done. A sigh. "I don't want any of these…" she frowns, and she glances to Cochonnet, a half-smile twisting her lips. "I don't suppose, Madame, that we could procure a jar of honey and a… baby goat from somewhere?" She's prepared to wait for what she wants, and not dive right in it would seem.

<FS3> Cochonnet rolls Animal Handling: Good Success. (1 7 6 7 3 7 3 1 3)

Paris smiles at Desarae, and inclines his head. "Paris no Glycine, at your service, my Lady…" The young man allows her to choose whatever she may thin wickedest from the basket, his eyes gleaming, as he steals glances towards Clara to see the girl's reactions to the exquisite torture she is submitted to, then looks again, a bit startlet into the basket. "Oh dear..a baby goat…we don't have that in here…but Miss Cochonnet might..I am sure Mademoiselle Audri might have the honey though.."

Clara jolts at Justine's swirling motion, the tendrils of the brush splaying out across her foot and drawing another round of melodic laughter from the young woman. Her ankles rattle the stocks in a way that will be intimately familiar to anyone who has used them, but they do not give in the slightest. So all Clara can do that will be able to possibly stop the tickling is curling her toes; and that leaves them open to the feather that Daniel reaches out to begin brushing her toes with. Now double teamed she begins to all but scream with laughter, pale skin flushing, and her eyes going even more wide at Desarae's suggestion.

Audrialla perks as she hears her name. She's been quietly fading into the background as a proper commoner should, admiring the scene befor her in a sort of awe. "Honey?" She looks over at Paris and chuckles, nodding. "I did indeed bring honey for my presentation, but if the lady wishes," she says of Desarae with a nod, "I can produce it sooner."

<FS3> Justine rolls Calligraphy: Success. (1 5 7)

Cochonnet noogies Paris gently, laughing as he looks into the basket for a baby goat. "No little ones in my collection just now, my Lady," Coco apologizes— she's known for incorporating animalia of various sorts into her assignations, so it's not too far-fetched an ask. "I have a cute little two-year-old but I think he might be a little spirited with his teeth for something like this," she considers. "One of my bitches, however, just littered last month. I'm sure one or two of the puppies wouldn't mind a taste of honey?" she waits just long enough to see whether Desarae will be inclined to this substitution before nodding her assent to one of her friends who is good with the animals.

Cochonnet looks over to Audrialla. "If it wouldn't impose upon your own demonstration, Mademoiselle Audrialla? Or else we will have some brought from the kitchen and leave your supply untouched," she offers.

Justine finishes her calligraphy, and with a soft sigh she looks towards Daniel. "My lord. We got her to scream at least with laughter, but now it is on you, I think?" Passing on the torch, so to speak, as she moves to stand, and her hands adjust the skirts of her dress. "I, for my part, need another drink from a shoe." After all. Puppies are to be brought on to deconstruct Clara's composure.

Daniel blinks at that and lets out a chuckle, "I did not suspect that to come out." He looks at Desarae's suggestions, "But that would certainly set the mood for the indulgement. Plus… fluffy." He says brightly. He watches Clara rattle and squirm. He moves his hand over dragging the feather up and down along one foot so as not to interrupt Justine's worksmanship even pausing at a point to watch. He does look to Audrialla with interest at the topic of honey." He looks amused, "I'm sure they would enjoy some sweet honey and sweet toes to delight." He says and he continues to let a feather trace on Clara's foot though turning to make room for the others. He lets feather tip trace the feet, toes and then up along Clara's ankles in amusement. He does glance to Clara, "So…does this happen to you often?" He asks with interest.

Audrialla holds up a finger in 'wait a moment' gesture as she nods to Cochonnet. She ducks behind the covered table and rummages for something underneath. Then the baker produces a jar of honey and a dipper, grinning with mischief. "I have spare, to refill the bowl." So she has bowls hidden under the cloth. "Puppies, oh dear, what a torture that will be," she laughs, eyes bright.

"That would be perfect, Madame," Desarae nods her assent to the suggestion of puppies. And two of them too! "I so so hope that we will meet again, Monsieur Paris." A bright smile is given him as her companion returns from the carousel and delivers a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "We're about to have some fun," she tells him, delight in her voice as Audrialla's honey is delivered into her hand. Two wriggly squirming puppies, pale gold in colour with red ribbons tied about their necks are next to arrive, and a wicked smile curves her lips. "How adorable." A swish of her skirt as she moves closer to where Clara is bound in the stocks, and a sly smile given the girl. "Do we think that the puppies would like some honey, mademoiselle?" she asks, swizzling the dipper in the honey as she kneels by her feet.

Paris laughs along with Cochonnet, shaking his head a bit ruefully, this is indeed turning into quite the…interesting evening. The black haired boy offers a deeper bow to Desarae. "It should be my pleasure.." he rolls the last word on his tongue, yes, he is the canon of Jasmine and no mistaking it. He then has to abstain from leaning down and just cuddling those cute puppies, instead assuming a more serene mien, watching Clara and her trials.

Clara definitely does not look like she is interested in experiencing a mouthy two year old goat chew her toes, so she looks relieved when that is not to be the answer. But she cannot help but look concerned at the idea of puppies. She swallows, looking back to Justine and Daniel. "You are welcome to stay, my lady and my lord; what use is an interactive exhibit if you don't play with it?" She asks, before she squeaks again as the feather tease sher feet more, vibrating with laughter. She swallows as the puppies are produced. She laughs at the questions she gets. "This specific thing? No. This kind of thing? More than one would expect." And she grins, blushing to Desarae. "I think they would, my lady," she swallows. "And you are quite inventive in your torture. A girl does love an inventive torturer, if she is interested in returning to her old stomping grounds?"

Desarae lifts the dipper high, allowing the honey, warm and golden to drizzle back into the jar. Her dark-haired companion kneels down beside her, the puppies cuddled into his chest. Wriggly and adorable, their little stub tails wag the whole of their bodies as they get their first sniff of something sweet and sticky. An excited yip as with utter care Desarae begins to drizzle the honey across the top of Clara's toes. She chooses the foot which hasn't been painted by Justine, the honey sliding between the courtesan's delicate pinkies to pool in between before dribbling over her sole and down the curve of her instep. She takes care not to touch either toes or foot with the dipper, for to do so would trigger those thousands of sensitive nerves that's she's keen to ignite.

Daniel laughs softly at Clara's response, "Fair enough. In theme but not quite. Well I'm glad you see to be enjoying yourself." He says softly and he nods, "I do often enjoy playing with my exhibits." He agrees readily in a wry tone. He moves to the side though then as Desarae moves up and he continues to watch in amusement as Desarae and the honey near to Clara's feet." He does lean in to murmur something to Paris as he steps back looking after Justine curiously and then gaze settling back to Clara.

Cochonnet recognizes her babies with a sparkle in her sky blue eyes, but sees them in fine hands and so hangs back and only introduces them from a distance, "There's Pieta, the slightly larger one, and Parcelle," while grinning her gratitude to Audrialla and drifting back toward the edges of the crowd at the footstocks demonstration, taking care to monitor the rest of the room, as well, and, to Audrialla, "Are you about ready to begin?" she murmurs, "After the puppies have been fed, I think, we'll come your way, Mademoiselle."

Paris grins a little, shaking his head as he watches the puppies, and you'd think one born and raised in the Night Court has seen it all..but apparently , you learn something new every day. He leans into Daniel's touch a little and whispers something back, keeping his voice low. His eyes keep on Clara though, as if to see how she…reacts.

Clara clearly does not know what she is going to feel as she hears Desarae preparing the honey — obviously unable to see her, since the stocks are in the way. She jumps slightly as the sticky fluid (wink wink) begins to drizzle down her foot. The courtesan clearly swallows down some noise, somewhere between a noise of 'ooh that's unusual' and 'ooh that feels kind of nice'. But she knows much more is about to come, her feet twitching slightly as she waits for the dogs—even as she enjoys the honey's different sensation.

Audrialla giggles at Clara's predicament and nods in eager reply. "Ready and waiting at your request," she says with her warm smile in place.

Oh Clara's feet are all a sticky mess as Desarae sets the jar down and takes one of the puppies, Pieta perhaps, from her erstwhile companion. "Now?" he asks. "Now…" she says, and in perfect co-ordination the two place the puppies on the floor. Little paws scrabble as they noses find the honey and nuzzle up to Clara's sole. Pink tongues dive between her toes to lap the syrupy goodness from each, wet and slightly rasping as they curl between each digit. Tails wagging, bottoms wriggling, they snuffle and suckle, a little nip here, a little nip there in their excitement. Nothing extreme, and quickly soothed by further licks that chase an elusive dribble.

Justine does stay close by - even if the carousel of stockings does attract her attention now and then. But how could the blonde lady leave Clara at this point, when the Red Rose is writhing and reacting so deliciously to the honey? Catching Daniel's glance, Justine smiles. "You *are* already enjoying yourself, my lord, aren't you?", she teases, fingers touching against the dark blue lace of her half mask, before her eyes sweep back to Clara, watching her in the moment the puppies become part of the action.

Standing out of the way so that he can watch, Yves has materialized and seems to be content to observe from some distance. He is wearing a plain red and white coat that is clearly too much for the present circumstances and which has elicited a bit of sweat high on his forehead, and matching garments to go with it. Hands folded behind his back, he watches the notables at play with his favorite cousin and smiles in amusement as things proceed.

Daniel laughs softly at Paris' response and he smirks, "I will look forward to it then." HE says and then he watches Clara making that mixed sound. He watches her squirm and twitch and then he glances to Justine and he smiles, "Am I? I suppose I am. What is there not to enjoy. People indulging themselves in a good show. Though… I suppose it's still early so I suppose it is a bit tame." He teases, "It does make one eagerly anticipate just what the next exhibition might lead to. AT least it seems we have a.. very interactive crowd tonight?"

"NOHOOOHOHO IT'S SOHOHO BAAAAHAHAHAHAHAD!" Clara shrieks as the puppies begin to go to work, especially as they begin focusing so directly on her toes. She shrieks, trying to get her feet away from them with no ability to do so. The nipping only gives it a different tenor, a sharpness to the laughter as their teeth graze the softness of her skin. The feet positively spasm with her laughter as Clara flushes bright red. She wraps her arms around her body to hold herself tight as she tries to keep her willpower in check to avoid giving her signale /immediately/ under this unusual torture.

Ysabelet cannot help but smile as she observes the proceedings from the side, tray with shoe-shaped glasses filled with wine held with practiced ease. Spotting Yves, suddenly, in an accidental sideways look, the adept approaches the young lord. Holding out the tray to him, she offers a grateful curtsey. "Lord Yves," the greeting comes in a soft murmur, as she lifts her blue eyes to meet his gaze. "Would you care for a drink? And… shall I take your coat?", she offers, always helpful.

Desarae drizzles another stream of the honey over Clara's toes, just to make certain the puppies will be kept busy for a while longer yet. "I believe I might go and try my luck with the stockings," she declares, nuzzling a kiss to her Shahrizai's lips before rising to her feet. There are people on hand to claim Cochonnet's puppies whenever they're done with, and with a smirk to Clara — which may or may not be seen by the hysterical woman — she drifts towards the carousel.

Cochonnet even covers her mouth with one hand, eyebrows wiggling upward at how adorable the little baby puppy sisters are going after every little last drop of the honey and eliciting from Clara a shriek that echoes all around the dome. Once it seems like the honey is cleaned away — for the puppies are sniffing elsewhere and giving Clara some relief — Coco adds further relief thereto: "I think let's maybe let our dear Red Rose have a little respite. She'll be very comfortable where she is if you would like to come visit her again," she assures everyone. "Mademoiselle Audrialla has a very special treat prepared for us, over and above the delectable and uniquely thematic morsels we have all already tasted. Shall we?" She gestures toward where Audrialla has set up her display, on the opposite side of the stairs from the foot stocks.

When he is approached by Ysabelet, Yves can't help but bow back in return and after a moment of thought, he starts to reach for the offered drink. "Ysabelet, you look lovely as always. Oh, yes, I suppose, thank you," he speaks softly, sparing only a glance for his cousin now that the giggling and laughing has started. The second question halts his hand however, and he pauses mid-reach to start unbuttoning the double-breasted coat instead. Beneath the jacket he's wearing a plain white shirt. Pulling off the jacket, finally, he drapes it over his arm and gently lifts a glass from her tray- taking a sip almost immediately. "Oh, and I'm in time for baking? But what about poor Clara? I wonder if I shouldn't check on her?" he asks Ysabelet.

Clara continues to shriek merrily as the little tongues torment her poor feet, thrashing madly in the stocks and on the bed; but also trying to be careful not to smack or kick the poor little puppies. "COMPAAHAHAHANIONS!" She cries out, tears springing to her eyes from the laughter the puppies force out of her, and the look on her face says that she is so close to using her signale…before the puppies stop. She slumps, giggling at the phantom tickling sensations still firing in her feet. And yet…she is a mess, but she is also obviously a mess who was enjoying it, and her scandalously sheer dress has adjusted enough that her lithe body is fairly well on display as people begin to move toward Audri's display.

"Poor Clara is feeling quite comfortable, I think," Ysabelet replies to Yves with a little grin. "It is a hot summer night," she adds, as if justifying how he unbuttons the coat. "Do you want me to take care of it?", she wonders. "Your coat, my lord?" Watching him take a sip from his glass, she then tilts her head a little to the side which causes her blonde hair to spill over her right shoulder. "You can check on Mademoiselle Clara, if you like. Or have a look at what Mademoiselle Audrialla has in store for us."

After the attention fades from the puppy-kissed Rose and she is given a chance to breath again, the pastry chef moves from her refreshment table to the one by the stairs with a white tablecloth over it. Audrialla dramatically whisks away the covering and reveals a small selection of crystal bowls. Each holds different fruit preserves; peach, raspberry, cherry, and strawberry - and a larger bowl of chocolate syrup. Also as stated, honey. A small silver spoon rests in each. Perfect for dribbling onto the foot. She also has a frosting which can be delicately piped onto the feet in sugary swirls for additional flavoring. As an aside, there are fruit slices and whole strawberries for the less adventurous to dip into the bowls.

"I've heard it said," the baker begins, "that there is a certain sensuous feeling to having the toes suckled. And what could make that better than a sweet temptating flavor to coat them? So, my lovely ladies and lords, I present an array of sweet jams and chocolate for your toe-tasting pleasures." She makes motion to the piping bag and adds, "Or I can adorn your feet with elaborate designs should you prefer something more artistic."

"You were a good and delightful Red Rose," Justine breathes as she appears beside the bed, leaning in to press a kiss to Clara's damp forehead. "Thank you, this has certainly provided some food for thought." Her words linger in the air, even as the blonde lady is whisked away, lured over to where Audrialla now announces her next treat. "I would… volunteer." Did she really say those words? "I mean… I'd like to have my feet adorned, for once…" Justine slips already out of her shoes, and then makes sure to… remove her stockings, so that no mess will be made of them.

An adept is on hand almost immediately to hold onto Justine's shoes and hose for her… but then Coco is there, too, sneaking one of Justine's stockings and giving it a scurrilous nuzzle before giving it back to the one who will hold onto them while Justine is being decorated. "My Lady," she offers a hand to the one in the blue mask, leading her to the stairs and helping her to be seated there with feet outstretched by Audrialla's table. "There's plenty of seating," the stairs being rather expansive, both in longitude and latitude, "Find a spot, if you would like, and we will bring the bowls by. Or else wait to see what dainties are on offer and work up an appetite," she winks.

Daniel watches Clara settling down slumping forward and he smiles in amusement clearly enjoying that before he turns to watch the revelation from Audrilla. "Oh? Interesting. Adornments for consumption or… artistic adornments… perhaps for consumption still." He says playfully and he glances to Justine, "Oh? Taking your turn as an exhibit?" He teases her playfully.

"I wo-," Yves begins to say something else, appears to consider whatever it was he about to reply and instead offers the coat over for Ysabelet to do with as she will. He will get it back later, no reason to dwell on it. Taking another sip at her words, he looks between Clara and the madame baker who has a crowd now, and nods to his temporary companion. "Let's check on her, see if she needs some of your drink," he decides and walks over to Clara. "Cousin, that was something, do you need anything?" he asks, doing his best not to visually examine her too closely, lest he might be distracted from the proceeding for more than a few minutes.

Clara looks up through bleary eyes as her cousin comes over, blushing slightly and giving a smile to him. "I'm ok. Just catching my breath," she says honestly, panting a bit. "I would take a splash of wine, if you can spare any?" She asks hopefully, keeping her voice pitched low to not interrupt the other exhibit.

Desarae, her guesses made at the carousel of stockings, wanders over to indulge herself of the new entertainment. Another glass slipper of wine is collected, and she lurks on the edge of those gathered around. Apparently not one to volunteer for this particular diversion, she watches anonymously instead, eyes bright behind her mask.

"Frosting or flavouring," Audri asks Justine, motioning to the fruit and the piping bag. "Which will be your pleasure," she inquires. As for Daniel's question she replies, "Everything I make is for consumption. I'm the finest baker in Marsilikos," she says with a proud smile. "But the choice is always the customer's what they will do with it. I had someone buy a cake once simply to throw it on the ground and watch it smash. I do admit, that was heartbreaking to me…"

Ysabelet follows Yves, his coat now carried over her before she hands it off to another Glycine as she sets the tray down on a side table. One of those shoe-glasses will be taken and offered to Clara. "You look thirsty," the young blonde adept remarks, smiling as she sees that suspicion confirmed in Clara's request. "Here. Some chilled white wine seems to be just what you need right now."

"An exhibit can be taken advantage of?", Justine wonders lightly towards Daniel as she gets settled, pulling her skirts just high enough as to make sure they remain unscathed from whatever endeavours may lay ahead of her. She wiggles her toes playfully, beautiful d'Angeline toes. Before she replies to Audrialla, "Frosting, Mademoiselle. And I believe, other volunteers may then sample some of the treat off my feet?"

Yves might have handed over his wine, but he brought Ysabelet along for several reasons, not the least of which she's a delight. When the wine is handed over, he nods his head in affirmation. "Well, you looked wonderful cousin, what are you supposed to do now? Wait for a second round, or are you free to get up and mingle?" he asks, making conversation while she sips at the wine offered up by Ysabelet.

Daniel grins at Audrilla, "Well are you now? I'm delighted to get an opportunity to see your work then. Seems like you will be working hard today." He says in amusement though he blinks, "That does seem a waste." He says at the cake and he glances to Justine, "Oh? I'm sure you'll have plenty of takers for tasters. Is it taking advantage of if you're being so well prepared for the event?" He asks thoughtfully, "I suppose though that is up to you." He says watching her skirts lift and Audrilla begin preparing.

Audrialla kneels beside Justine with the piping bag and nods. "If you wish it, then they can nibble or lick your feet as you like. My role is just to make the play a bit more sweet," she says as she smiles up at the noblewoman. She hums a jaunty tune as she starts to pipe out elaborate swirls with flowers in a lacy pattern, the white frosting a sweet creamy mixture.

<FS3> Justine rolls Composure: Good Success. (1 5 6 5 1 5 5 7 8)

"Have you ever enjoyed cake frosting off a female foot?" Justine lifts her head, turning it far enough to catch the glance from Daniel. Until… Audrialla starts with her work, and attention shifts to the baker. The blonde lady endures the swirls of frosting upon her toes, but that does not keep her from admiring the art in the garland of flowers in the making. "Oh… Naamah… Am I really doing this?" Words muttered to no one in particular, as Justine eyes half-close and she tsks at herself.

Cochonnet stands up behind Justine on the stairs, watching the piping applied with such precision in such fantastic little details. "They might have to get past me for the pleasure," she grins in reply to Daniel's proposition. But his face isn't known to her, and it makes her sky blue gaze dall there for a second before she crouches down behind Justine and sets both hands on her shoulders for moral support. "You really are," she murmurs, "Let Naamah come to you; in all guises ever beautiful," she issues encouragement like a mantra.

Desarae watches the frosting of Justine's feet with interest. "That's very beautiful, mademoiselle." Does she speak of the flowers that start to blossom over the blonde woman's feet, or of the feet themselves? Maxence snakes an arm around her waist and presses his chin to her shoulder, his dark hair blending as one with hers. "I wonder if my foot were similarly treated whether you might be encouraged to clean me off?" His chin lifts and his teeth find her shoulder, and a bite is given that's hard enough bring forth a gasp from Desarae's lips. She murmurs something back, though it's bourne on a breath so quiet that it'd be lost in the merriment of the crowd.

"There is plenty to share," Audrialla tells Desarae, smiling over her shoulder as she looks up from her work. "Whether the preserves or my lovely piping. Whatever may please you best, my lady." Soon, lattice, swirls, and delicate flowers adorn Justine's lovely feet. She gives Justine a nod and steps away, rising from her knees. "There you are. To admire and to be admired."

"And savoured…" Justine assesses Audrialla's work, unable to hide the fact that she is impressed. A sweeping gaze of those around her, and she smiles, closing her eyes. "Who of you will dare?" Easing into the encouraging hold of Cochonnet on her shoulders, the blonde lady waits, biting her lower lip. "Anyone?"

After a brief conversation with his cousin, Yves finishes the last of his wine and offers the glass over to a passing attendant, rather than foisting it off on Ysabelet. Taking his leave, he walks the short distance over to observe the ongoing adornment and the lady's gaze around at those gathered. "Surely, someone will taste the lady?" he questions and folds his hands behind his back as he tends to do, his body finally having cooled without his jacket there to keep him stifled- he looks much less tense now.

"Perhaps that person should be you, my lord?" The question for Yves comes from Desarae, her green eyes glowing brightly in the shadow of her mask.

As they always say, it's better to be late than never which Sylvie takes to heart. Despite still being new in town, she had heard about Glycine House's fetish ball and would be remiss to not take advantage of such a fun social outing. The young woman arrives wearing a black and gold half-mask reminisce of Kushiel's sharp visage and in an uncharacteristically short black ball gown. The skirt flaring from hips to end about mid-knee, the dress top is double-breasted with two rows of brightly polished golden buttons, militant in appearance. Sheer royal blue fishnet stockings grace her legs, garters disappearing higher beneath her skirt. Her feet are adorned with ebony suede lace-up stiletto, red painted toenails peek through both shoes and fishnet.

Sylvie pauses at the door to pay the entry fee, tossing her unruly mane of blue-black hair over her shoulder. Unescorted other than an unobtrusive House guard, she joins the festivities, a smile playing over her features as everything unfolds. Delicate fingers take a proffered slippered glass, she pauses out of the way to take a sip and observe.

Perhaps it was Ysabelet who provided the glass. With Yves slipping away, towards the spectacle provided by Mademoiselle Audrialla and certain volunteers, the young blonde adept notices the new arrival and takes a moment to greet her with a curtsey and the required shoe-glass. "My lady." Ysabelet's own gown is rather short as well, showing off long legs. Beckoning Sylvie to follow towards where the action is, the adept leads the way, just rejoining Yves where he stands with the others.

Audrialla lets the nobles sort out who is to enjoy the taste of frosting from Justine's foot and goes to adorn the other guests with fruit and henna art.

"Sweets? Already? Before I've had a chance to eat?" Yves questions of Desarae and lets one hand rest on his abdomen for a moment like he's weighing the options put before him.

Clara calls out helpfully to her cousin. "Suck her toes, coz!" She contributes helpfully.

Paris has been watching the proceedings…smiling broadly and maybe enjoying a sweet or two taken directly from one of Audrialla's trays, while everyone else's been sampling things off feet..

"One toe, perhaps?" With her eyes closed, Justine is still able to hear. The deepening smile gives away a hint of mischief. "I swear, I've washed my feet before coming here. Thoroughly." A careful wiggle of frosting adorned toes could be taken as invitation and encouragement.

"Oh, well, if you went to all the trouble to wash your feet," Yves says as he steps forward a touch further and takes a knee. Rolling his sleeves up his muscular forearms so that he can do this without getting frosting on his sleeves, perhaps. Not about to get his foot lodged in his mouth by saying more, Yves steps forward to put Justine's foot in his mouth. Gently lifting her foot by the heel, he sucks at the offered big toe, licking at the side of her foot to get some of the frosting off. "My compliments to both the lady, and madame Audrialla," he says as he gently starts to put the foot back down. Now a bit cleaner.

Coco may have misjudged the pacing of the event slightly here, from the rather mild (relatively) tormenting of toes with varied implements to putting a person's toes in ones' mouth is maybe a little bit of a leap for those not accustomed to the act. She will take it under advisement for next year. Ah, here's Yves, stepping up boldly. She'll have to give him a reward for that, later. And, in order to further break the ice and show that the act is perfectly pleasant, she pushes up from her squat behind Justine and, legs spread wide, she does an acrobatic collapse forward, landing on Justine's lap with her thighs spread to the steps on either side of her as she prowls down Justine's legs, choosing the foot opposite the one Yves is lapping clean and wrapping her lips around one of the flowers drawn thereon, suckling on the top of Justine's foot and then moving up with a soft moan toward a pinky toe, keeping her sky-blue eyes on Yves the meanwhile, a flirtatious glance as she suckles and savors each little toe.

<FS3> Justine rolls Composure-3: Failure. (2 4 1 5 3 3)

Those blue-grey eyes open just far enough to regard Yves through the veil of lashes. "My lord, you are too kind," Justine tells him, and even if the half mask of dark blue lace may conceal her identity, the statement seems to be genuine. With just the faintest of shudders during his treatment, and, well, more of a flinch, when the unexpected happens, and Cochonnet decides to roll into her lap and savour the icing from the other foot. As a consequence, the blonde lady will find herself emitting high-pitched sounds of surprise and pleasure, to a degree she had never suspected she could muster.

Yves gives Cochonnet a smile as she joins him on the other foot. Settling his weight on his heels before he stands, he seems to enjoy the responses from Justine, and actually perhaps lingers a moment or two longer on her toes than was strictly necessary for the collection of the frosting off her foot. "And you are too delicious," he replies to her comment, and finally standing back, he steps away, not wanting to make a whole production out of it.

Cochonnet never doesn't make a whole production out of anything. She is a whole production. But once those feet are cleaned and then some, perfectly suited for returning her stockings and slippers, she wriggles down the rest of the way to the floor, leaning on an elbow to wink at Justine before she pushes up and stands… somehow… in those shoes. She surveys the rest lingering on the stairs getting their feet decorated and supped on, and is content so to watch for a while, giving people a chance to recover from the first two exhibitions, maybe go check out the carousel, have some more nums or some more drink.

Finally, though, and only a little bit behind schedule, she lifts her voice: "Our next exhibition will be starting soon, if you'll head just in this direction—" they're going widdershins about the place, to the quadrant closest to the archway into the baths, no doubt unlocking some foot-daemon with their trajectory and components of an arcane spell. "Our own lovely Paris Paradise will be demonstrating a back-walking massage dance."

Justine gets back her composure after a moment, and then regains her stockings and shoes. Getting to her feet slowly as she scans the room for the mysterious Daniel, perhaps, but with a wide smile and an expression that looks far from embarrassed. Reminded of the stocking carousel, this is where she will head next, after sorting out her attire. It will take her for a moment out of the action, but on the other hand, who will complain, when there are so many other impressions that wait to be explored?

A chance to enjoy a young Glycine's athleticism, and get a massage as well! A set of parallel bars have been arranged at the sides of a single mattress where patrons may lie down..and have the young man walk on their backs or massage their thighs with his feet without him actually need to put all his weight on it. The mattress is covered in fine sheets, though they will be changed for each patron, since various scented oil wait at the side, to make the experience complete. Paris has changed too, the young man still wearing his beloved white, but now only a tight leotard, covering him from shoulders to toes, leaving his feet bare, and with a deep cut back that shows off his completed marque…when his long hair doesn't flow over it , of course. He bows deeply and looks around. "Who shall be first? Anyone who's got a sore back?" He demonstrates his flexibility by doing a standing split and wiggling his bare toes.

In amongst the visitors, quiet, so far, and happy to sip at a slipper full of white wine and observe the joviality, stands a figure familiar to those who frequent the masquerade balls of Marsilikos. You wouldn't go so far as to say he's at every one, but he's at enough that he's become a bit of a character, and since this part is masque-optional, he is here: Le Lapin Rose, the Pink Bunny, with his tall-eared bunny mask covering eyes and nose but leaving his mouth and jawline bare, his matching pink doublet with the white trim and the matching trousers… no puff of a tail, though. White hose, pink dancing-slippers. "I," he calls, not at the very first instant, but not waiting too long, either, issuing the Jasmine Glycine a tender smile. "Would you have me disrobe?" he asks, not opposed to the idea, despite being in front of all these people.

Following Cochonnet to the next area, Yves has left his sleeves rolled up past his elbows, and somehow the top few buttons on his shirt have also come undone. He pauses for a moment to have a conversation with a Lord he knows and then walks on, folding his hands behind his back. At the show of the standing splits, he applauds gently, perhaps the only person to do so, but he knows how impressive that is. "Well done," he says and then, in hindsight, realizes that the one shouting to suck toes had been his cousin, and throws a look in her direction, but she seems to be resting, so he leaves her alone. Instead focusing on Paris. Looking then to the bunny, he nods his head in approval.

Paris has the keen courtesan's eyes and he can recognize a patron even when in unfamiliar masks, but that isn't much needed here, since he recognizes both Jehan-Pascal's stance and his mask, laughing a bit, moving to take the lord's hands, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Well, yes, I think it would be better, since we can add some oils that way and not ruin fine clothing.." Paris dances on his toes a bit, then as if to demonstrate his acrobatic skills, while JP prepares, he climbs onto the bars and rises on, holding with just his arms, then pushing his feet up to do a full handstand.

Lapin Rose dips a little bit to accept the kiss in a way that declares every sort of familiarity between the bunny and the courtesan, and, there, standing before the bed, under the cover of that mask which will certainly be staying in place, he has an adept or two help him with his outfit, out of his doublet and buttoned shirt below, out of his trousers, too… he'll leave on his underwear, but that's quite possibly not for the sake of modesty, to look at his underwear, which are quite as fashionable as his outerwear… a skimpy baby pink panty with a low, lacy waistline that caresses the upper curves of his buttocks such that he may as well be nude, anyhow… and a sexy garter belt to match, attached to the glimmering pink and white garters that hold up his white stockings to low-mid-thigh. Bunny leaves his shoes, but keeps on the rest as he steps along to the bed, the visible lower half of his cheeks and his neck matching his mask in pinkish hue now that he is out in the open dressed so provocatively, one arm crossed semi-bashfully across to hold onto his other elbow as he steps girlishly toward Paris.

Paris smiles warmly as he sees the pink bunny disrobe, the young courtesan showing off with a tumble between the bars…and then he nods. "Please..lay down..stretch a little on the mattress.." Paris says and holds out his legs in front of him , so that an attendant can coat his feet with one of the oils. "For you, milord Lapin… I should say..some Aloes and Eucalyptus…" The adept picks up a small, green tinged bottle and carefully pours that oil on Paris' feet, until they almost drip..

Bunny steps closer, encouraged by the warmth of Paris' smile, and the slight nod of his head is exaggerated for onlookers by the height of his ears and the way they tip shortly forward and back. He takes a knee on the mattress, dipping below Paris' upheld legs and meeting the sheets next with one hand, then the other, crawling along with his hind end in the air until he stretches out with his arms along the sheets, his mask helpfully resting on his arms and his face on the mask, leaving room for him to breathe between his arms instead of having his face down on the covers. He stretches out his legs behind him, keeping them tucked close together and trying not to shimmy too much in anticipation.

Paris grins as he sees the Bunny present himself, the boy still keeping his athletic stance of only resting on his arm grip on the bars, looking around the room to the other guests. He lowers his feet slowly and does just a tippy-tappy twinkle to dance with his feet at the side of Lapin's spine, from neck to tailbone. "Now…milord Lapin..do you want a gentle massage..or a deep one?"

Daniel had slipped off to one of the quieter areas of the festivities. No doubt there were toes and other things afoot a few more buttons having come off of his tunic. He smiles faintly as he approaches to watch curiously the latest show going on. There's a soft laugh at the bunny on display and as someone appears to be preparing for a massage. "Well things do seem to have accelerated in my absence." He says in bemusement.

Bunny takes a shallow breath, quickly, then lets it out at the sensation of feet tip-toeing so cautiously across his back. "Oh, gentle with me, Paris, you know your Bunny is fragile," he answers, a little purr to his voice, as if they were all alone in a bedroom together, which is easier to imagine when one has ones face down on the bed.

Paris smiles to Daniel and Clara, giving Coco a wink too, as the young Glycine courtesan displays his acrobatic skills…and the flexibility of his feet as he uses his toes to very gently rub the Bunny's back, one tiny tippy-toe at a time, finding the muscles, plessing down on them then stepping on, his arms holding on most of his weight, so the lord that is getting the massage isn't actually walked on.. And Paris is a nauthy boy as he pays attention to Lapin's responses , to check whether to press harder, to roll his toes in a spot. or move somewhere else.

Standing out of the way, Yves has gone to find himself a second wine glass, and parks himself where he can watch and observe. Idly adjusting his clothing a little for comfort, his eyes tracing the movements of a few of the attendants. Of course, a person is never so keenly aware of their own aches and tension as when one thinks about a massage or sees one happening. Suddenly every muscle now quietly whispering that it wants to relax as well.

Daniel ends up near Yves taking up his own fresh drink, "Did I miss anything particularly fun? Anyone enjoyed?" He asks and he smiles as he watches Paris and the Bunny. He laughs softly watching the two enjoying their massage and the show they put on.

A few hitched breaths, let out through pressed lips as soft moans compressed into something more like a grunt when Paris hits those spots on the Bunny's back, seeks them out and finds them, then destroys them with the mildest little quiver of a toe. It's a strange thing to be walked upon, surely, but the kid is a master of the craft and the slippery toes gliding over his increasingly well-oiled form… it's going to stain his fine stockings and those pretty panties he has on, but one hardly goes to a Glycine Fetish Ball and assume one's underclothes were going to come out unscathed. His knee hitches into the mattress and slightly to one side, as if he were gripping on in the throes of the pleasures involved.

Paris is encouraged by the moans, and there are places where he presses harder, or curls a toe…he shows off a bit doing a flip in the air… and then his feet rest on the back of the Bunny's thighs, this time not just toes but the entire foot, moving his soles to cup those muscles and massage them.. The young man's face is showing his concentration, but also his pleasure in creating desire.. he winks towards Yves and Daniel.

"A lady's feet needed tending, there was frosting? I'm not sure when you left," Yves answers idly as he sips at his wine, he nods politely back at Paris when he is winked at, but clearly isn't as moved as he was for his cousin and her treatment for instance- not that he seems to mind. He's amused, just not quite as stirred. "She was wearing a mask, so I'm not entirely sure who she was, even if I might have a guess, it'd be impolite of me to guess at who it was," he explains after a moment of thinking about it.

Coco herself loiters a little bit behind where Daniel and Yves are chatting, her eyes on Paris' display and her ears sort of half toward the other two gentlemen's conversation. "Mm, I'd like to see it done in heels, next," she murmurs, sort of at them, maybe gauging their reaction to the notion of being trodden upon in high heels… some fellows dig the idea, after all.

Bunny, meanwhile, startles visibly— and audibly, with a little half-stifled yup— when the soles of Paris' feet come to meet the backs of his thighs with a pat and then… squeeze like that. His hips move gently, either because of the pressure on his thighs or on their own, making some space between himself and the mattress.

Daniel chuckles, "Oh? Well I hope everyone enjoyed the delectable delightful snack." He says and he grins, "She was a delight though." He says brightly eyes twinkling at that discussion. He raises a brow at the talk of heels and he grins at Coco, "Oh? Are you going to ask for an encore?" He asks curiously and he smiles, "Quite the impression." He says and watches the way the bunny's hips move and he smiles, "Is this the last public…performance?"

Paris has mostly been showing off until now, maybe because he knows his patron and it's not hard for him to find pleasure or relief spots… but then he tippy toes very lightly up the Bunny's back, not something recommended in high heels unless one wants some serious recovery time afterwards.. to rub his oiled toes on the lord's shoulders…this time seemingly trying to make muscles relax. It's all a show, after all…

"As if I don't risk being stabbed often enough?" Yves inquires of Cochonnet and looks her up and down, eyes lingering on her footwear for a breath or two as he thinks about it. Really thinks about it, then slowly shakes his head. "I suppose it might be worth watching though, yes," he agrees in hindsight, revisiting his thoughts as he lets his imagination play things out. "I'm surprised your heels aren't more phallic," he admits after a moment.

Bunny relaxes. Oh, yes, he does. All the more so once Paris has left his hind region alone to migrate north for the summer… not that it was a bad sort of not relaxed— that sort of tension that mounts in the loin when one realizes that yes, 'put your feet on my butt' is something that might actually make it into an assignation sometime down the line. By the time Paris reaches his shoulders, though, he's more or less melted— that's where he carries all of his work stress, and it's easy enough for Paris to leave him a half-wibbling mess as he works out all those knots from being hunched over his desk.

"We have one more, my Lord," Coco lets Daniel know, and, with a quick glance between him and Yves. "I'm going to need two gentlemen to volunteer for the next game— it will require a level of bravery in public beyond that even of Mr. Rabbit over there, though," she warns. "How about it?" Yves comment on her footwear makes her grin. "Oh, I thought about it. But the slender heel is good for things a fat cock can't quite manage… and, as it stands, I've already put a heel on my cock, anyhow." Which round heel she rubs salaciously.

Daniel ahs at that and he nods he chuckles at the talk of the stabbing. He raises a brow at the talk of Coco and her heel, "Oh? Well… it's quite… the shape." He offers and he grins at that and watches the two, "He does seem to be quite… enjoying himself. Is this a typical performance?" He asks of Coco curiously grinning as he watches.

Paris notices the way that the Bunny relaxes and works those shoulders a bit more, even cupping the back of the lord's neck between the curves of his soles and massaging it with surprising gentleness…but then he lifts himself on his arms, springing up and doing a summersault from the bars to land on his hands..yes, with oiled feet it might not have been a good idea, he waits until an attendant comes and wipes them off with a towel, before he stands and bows deeply, having heard Daniel's question. "In truth…I haven't done anything like this in a while.." His long hair is a bit out of shape due to all the crobatics, but he grins and goes to kiss Lapin's cheek.

"I'm as brave as any, just perhaps not as foolish; I'm not volunteering for anything without first knowing what it is," Yves points out idly, snorting ever so faintly when she starts to play with her outlandish toy. Sparing a glance for the Bunny and Paris, he tilts his head slightly at the look of the massage. As the performance ends, he applauds again gently, and then looks toward Cochonnet, expecting some sort of explanation.

Bunny is just going to lay here for a little while until he recovers enough of himself to roll off of the mattress. He's going to let the adepts tuck his clothes away for him, though, not intending quite yet to put them back on. He accepts the kiss from Paris with a goofy smile and sort of haplessly chases after him with one of his own, but then is content to sit here until the applause dies down and another fellow about his height comes to collect him and take him over to one of the collections of sofas on which they can… cuddle for a while.

Later that night, the fete has collapsed into an orgy — there are people lounging on the stairs, on the pillows on the floor, trying out the stocks or tricks with Paris' parallel bars… or they're sneaking off in groups of two, or three, or seven, finding the far reaches of the Salon in their various quests for a place to get down to it. Is all of it foot-focused? Certainly not. But when the dawnlight hours bring sleep at last to the last to fall— maybe to one or two who never saw her thus before, Naamah will appear to them in dreams— barefoot.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License