"And this is where you'll be staying, dear one." The queen, Mistress Toriel, led her new courtesan into a lavishly furnished room. A canopy bed took up the far left wall while the entire right corner had a long desk set into the wall. The window protruded outward, with a small, raised part cushioned to act as seats if anyone wanted to sit and stare out the window.

Sans walked over, looking out through the glass. They were high up in one of the castle's towers, isolated from the rest of the city. He felt like Rapunzel, stuck in a tall tower and waiting to be rescued.

"I'll let you settle into your new home for now. When you're ready, I can't wait to become more acquainted with you." Sans smiled faintly at her, inclining his skull to show that he understood. The door closed with a resolute thud, trapping him in again.

Once the door was shut, he collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't want to "get acquainted" with Mistress Toriel. The thought made his nonexistent stomach churn, although he was forced to do things like this all the time. That was the life of a concubine.

He just wanted to stay here forever, not having to talk to anyone or interact with anything. But even though Toriel had said that he could take his time, it was obvious that he didn't really have a choice. He couldn't just keep her waiting.

His conservative performance had to have made her curious about him and how good he was at what he did. He had done nothing sexual for his act, unlike all the other participants. His sexual prowess was a mystery to her, except for the accounts given to her by his previous master.

After laying there for a little while longer, he got up and walked over to the ornately carved door, pushing it open with an ominous creak. Looking back and forth down the hallway, he judged that it was safe to exit and padded down the hallway to the queen's private chambers.

He opened the even larger, more intricately carved door slowly, stepping inside. There on the large bed covered in expensive silk throws was the Queen, lounging with a book in hand. It was about snails, Sans observed, as he read the title from his distance from the bed.

"Ah, you're here. Are you ready?" She looked up from her book, putting it down on the bedside table.

"Yes, Mistress." Sans murmured, his eyelights flicking downward in submission. He approached the gigantic bed, pulling himself up so that he was next to her. "How would you like it?" He kept his face perfectly neutral to ensure he wouldn't seem unwilling or disgusted, like he really felt.

Toriel's mouth quirked into an amused smirk. "Well, since this is our first time together, I'll be lax. Do it however you wish."

Sans blinked. However he wished? If he wanted to do it however he wished, he would rather not do it at all. But of course, that's not what she wanted.