The last time Momonga recalled doing a fashion show of sorts was for Bukubukuchagama, and that had ended in his first kiss. Albeit one he couldn't properly feel due to sensory restrictions in the game, and from one avatar to another.

But this? 'I felt her hand, her touch, I feel her warmth, her breath on my cheek… I…' He swallowed the lump in his throat while he faced away from her, it was all so real, too real, just real enough, a whirlwind, no, a hurricane was whirling in his breast as he revealed his secret pleasure.

Whether it was the wine, or who he was with, or both when added to his long secret wish that someone existed with whom he could share his passions, it was all boiling up, boiling outward, and even though his heart was racing fast as a dry summer flame through wheat during high winds, he could not keep his hands from clawing at the clothing he wished to show off.

Albedo stepped back, watching, her dismay lasting only a fraction of a second, and that confusion at finding out something so unexpected gave way just as quickly into something closer to awe.

Not because she found his revealed pastime to be exciting or intimate in and of itself, but because he was trusting her with it. 'He could wipe my memory, he could command my demise, he could seal the knowledge away…' That was what she loved, that was what had her watching with reverence as he undid the rest of the zipper of his skirt and let it fall at his feet.

His body was beautiful in her eyes, but more than that, watching him slip into what made him comfortable, happy, even his confidence seemed to rise ever higher…

There was no part of him she did not love, that did not set her pulse to racing or her heart to throbbing. This was some new part of him she hadn't known existed.

Now she did.

He made a small, almost childishly exultant hop and turned around in midair, he began to… not walk, but rather 'strut' showing off the way his body rubbed against the cloth, even the roll of his shoulder and the little strap from the loose fitting top seemed to be an invitation.

"My Lord is beautiful, beyond any words I could utter!" Albedo gasped and clapped her hands with glee, she took a seat for herself and shouted as he spun around to show off his tightly concealed rear, "Another!"

Momonga looked over his shoulder, her words lit a spark in his eyes, "Another? Really?"

"Yes. Really." She gave an enthusiastic nod that nearly carried her from the chair and into his arms. Only her unwillingness to break the spell of the hour kept her rooted to the spot. "I want to see it all!"

"Then if we're going to do that…? Then we might as well do it right!" He said and reached into the pocket dimension to pull out a throwaway consolation prize from a gacha machine. This one did nothing really, at least nothing special in Yggdrasil. It was pure flavor, though it was useful at little guild parties.

The item was a music player, designed to fit the aesthetic of the game, it was able to play any music that was free or out of copyright in the entire world. Momonga opened the lid of the little box and said, 'Play something for a fashion show.'

The flavor text said that the mystic box had a natural understanding of whoever held it, and it proved once more that the flavor text of the old world was divine will in the new.

Immediately the song 'Strut Rhythms' by 'Better Life' began to play. Momonga set it down and went to change. From skirt to formal dress, from formal dress to one piece swimsuit, from one piece swimsuit, to two piece that outlined everything.

Each minute was an hour and each hour was a minute, in Momonga's mind as the music played and his frequent outfit changes began to draw her input.

"Try the black heels with that dress, the colors will really pop." She suggested, and trusting in his Guardian Overseer, he went with her suggestions, finding them to be correct.

"Now how about some makeup…" Albedo suggested, and Momonga cocked his head.

"I've never done that before, won't it be obvious?" He asked and ran his hands over the smooth satin of the fabric along his thigh.

Albedo shook her head, "My Lord, my beloved, the secret to wearing makeup is to make it appear as if you're not wearing any. A good job with makeup doesn't reveal the makeup itself, it's meant to reveal the best features of yourself."

"Hmmm… alright… let's try it." He said with a rush of decisiveness, and she hopped up out of her chair and moved it to the mirror on the wall.

"Please, sit, and let me retrieve my things from my room." She urged, a broad smile on her face that hid the tumult of rising want in her body.

"I won't move a muscle." Momonga promised, and shivered with delight as Albedo rushed from his presence.

It wasn't a long wait, but it still felt like forever, a heady feeling of exaltation and almost triumphant happiness overwhelmed Momonga's mind and was only enhanced by the copious amounts of wine. 'I wonder if her being a succubus is part of it?' He pondered, it probably was, but the truth was?

'Even if it is, I don't care, she's happy, I'm happy, and my secret is a little less secret, but I'm happier for it, besides, if she wants to take the initiative and enhance the pleasure of her company, so much the better!' Momonga told himself and so it was only glee that built, rather than his usual anxiety.

Perhaps enhanced by what he was wearing, perhaps by what was coming his way, but when Albedo returned, breezing through his door with long strides and a mahogany makeup kit in hand and a smile on her face, it was only delight and a sense of rightness, of welcome, that he felt.

"Now, My Lord, we're going to do it this way, unless it please you to do something else… you do trust me, don't you, Lord Momonga?" She asked, suddenly uncertainty danced in her eyes, and the vulnerability he'd always felt for himself, he saw in someone else for the first time in his life, it was a trivial thing, really. After all, makeup could be just wiped right off. But it was also perhaps the closest someone had been to him beyond necessity, she would touch his face, study every line, every indentation, every part of what made him utterly unique.

"Yes." He answered, and her casual act of decorating his face with color, shadow, and powder took on a new significance to them both.

Style after style, look after look into the mirror, followed by some new experiment and demonstration, and when it was over, the warmth of her loving breath caressing his skin and her luminous eyes drew him in too much to hold back any further…

And Momonga reached for her, while her waiting arms opened to receive her Lord as something more, not as her Lord, the master of the Old Forty-One and the ruler of Nazarick.

But as her lover.