Yserveielle stood just inside the doorway to Glenn’s bedchamber, keeping his door propped open with the tip of her tail as she stared at the items laid out on his bed. She could feel another smirk tugging at one corner of her lips. Glenn had insisted that he had nothing to do with how her lingerie ended up arranged on his bed in such a way that would suggest he was more than willing to see her in it – and have her make use of the cold-iron tipped riding crop that accompanied the outfit. Indeed, he had seemed quite panicked when both Yservielle and Osanna had inspected the scene in his room just minutes ago; the fear emanating off of him in that moment had been almost intoxicating to her, and if Osanna had not been right there, Yservielle felt certain she would have dragged Glenn back into the bedroom and taken him then and there, despite any protests he might have voiced.
Osanna had gone back to sleep now, though, and it would be a simple thing for Yservielle to don the underbust corset, crotchless panties, garter belts, and stockings before descending back down to her own chamber where Glenn was waiting. She felt it would not be difficult to convince him to let her have her way with him; she had done it many times before, and no man or woman had ever refused her before.
Yservielle reached for the corset, letting her fingers run down the buckles that fastened the front of it. It would certainly be a pleasant end to what had started as a rather distasteful evening.