Gender: Shemale
Apparent Age: Mid 20s
Height: 8'0"
Weight: 1150 lbs
Hair: Black
Eyes: Red

"No, pas bien. Take it away, please. I do not wish to look upon it any longer."

The raven haired woman lifted her chin and her eyes away from the fumbling tailor who held aloft the bundle of cloth for her consideration. She folded her arms underneath her chest, causing the her considerable bust to press up against the confines of her silken top. The massive globes threatened to bulge out of her shirt entirely, but the cloth stubbornly clung to the coffee colored skin despite the press of her forearms upward against them. The tailor seemed crestfallen, and for a moment, fearful, as he did as the lady commanded. He hurriedly handed the bundle of cloth to his attendant, and then turned with his hands clasped tightly together to address the woman. He rubbed his palms together nervously as he tried to retort.

"But Mademoiselle Aveline, you must understand, with your unique... physique, making such outfits is incredibly expensive and time--"

Aveline's ruby eyes opened, and she gave a baleful gaze down towards the tailor. She towered over the poor and trembling man, nearly twice his height, and he shrunk underneath her stare. Her back right hoof lifted, and then stamped on the ground with a loud thump that instantly silenced the tailor's complaints. She kept her arms pressed tightly against her chest, her displeasure clear upon her face, from her richly painted and glossy red lips, to the subtle wrinkle in her nose while she silently considered the tailor. The tailor's hands shook, as if his very life depended on these next few moments.

"I commissioned from you a dress for the Marchioness' ball, and you produced for me a saddle blanket barely suitable for a farm horse. Tell me, monsieur, am I to believe from your work that you mistook me for a farm horse when I commissioned you?"

Aveline strode forward towards the tailor, her four hooves beating heavily on the wood as she approached him. From his vantage point, he saw little more than the black hair of Aveline's equine lower half, and the shadow of her two heavy breasts looming over him from above. The musculature of her hind legs rippled with her every step. She stopped a foot away from the man, and her imperious stare demanded his silence. Eventually, though, she gave a resigned sigh, and her visage softened.

"...show me the saddle blanket again."

Aveline held her hand out, and waited patiently for the attendant to hand her the bundle of cloth, which he did in immediate reply to her gesture. She unfolded it with both hands, and held it aloft in front of her, pressing the fabric against her chest while she turned to examine herself in the mirror.

She was the very image of ladylike nobility, with a narrow waist and soft hands and arms that had likely never seen a single day's hard labor. Her raven hair was arranged into a long ponytail that reached halfway down her back, with errant locks framing a golden crown she wore atop her brow. Her coffee colored skin was smooth, unblemished, with a gentle and natural rosy blush upon her cheeks. A jewel of diamond and ruby ensconced in gold decorated her neckline, resting atop her impressive bosom and exposed cleavage. Her ears and fingers wore similar such jewelry in an overt display of her wealth.

Below the waist, though, she was nothing like a refined and posh lady at all. She stood aloft on four hooves, carrying the weight of an equine lower body that was covered in soft and silken black hair. The black hair of her flanks was kept meticulously brushed in a show of care for her appearance and cleanliness that extended to every part of her.

Aveline turned to the side to gaze upon her own flank in the mirror. She turned her waist towards the mirror while keeping the dress pressed up against her chest. Her eyes swept from the silken black hair of her tail, along her muscular flank, flicking briefly down to the enormous equine phallus that hung between her hind legs, and then returned to sweep up along her chest towards her neck. Finally, she returned the dress to the attendant, and slipped her hand into her coin purse to remove a small paper note.

"Have it adjusted and ready for me by tomorrow morning. I expect it to be at my manor before I awaken."

She handed the note to the tailor, and backed away from the mirror. She took care in how she turned to not knock over any of the tailor's tools or other clothing from their racks as she strode out of the tailor's shop. The tailor and his attendant immediately lowered their gaze and bowed in deference to the lady as she made her exit. The merchant clutched the bank note tightly in his fist, allowing himself finally to feel relief now that Aveline was leaving.

"As you wish, Lady Castelle."

White: Roleplay, first and foremost! Anything from casual conversation to story development to amusing misunderstands and happenstance.

Green: Females without cocks, submissive partners, oversized insertions, lactation, breeding, excessive cum, voluptuousness, and women who treat her with deference and respect, long descriptive and well written posts.

Yellow: Non-consentual sex and rape.

Red: Scat, watersports, torture, humiliation, men in sexual roleplay.