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The powerful elfish mage-priestess had pushed through many debased tests to make her way here, certainly, she would not be halted -in her submission- now, would she? Her powerful, Sex-object of a body was throbbing, but she still was in control of the delicate balance of her senses and perversions.
Her mind, however, was perhaps another thing. Her dreams and lusts and desires, all stocked as her body already was. It seemed that for all the changes to her body that had already transpired, now, something else of her was desired, a throbbing in her head, a pulsing of her mind and a singular word managed to stay and stick within her thoughts.. Masterful. Yes, that was what the creature here was, in assembling its ingredients, all the things assembled here to assist its will...
As was she. There was a slight-slithering like feeling sensation as the creature's will snuggled itself into her own, affirming the words the had been primed to think about herself. Master.
The creature before her was not as muscular nor virile as the Minotaurs before, nor was it a powerful demon, no, where her other 'Tormentors had been creatures of the flesh, this one was one of the mind. Hers as well. Thick, rubbery tendrils writhed under a face of alien perversion, an abomination, although Ilsa would never find herself thinking of her Master in that way ever. The abominable, twistedly beautiful creature lifted a hand, gesturing welcomingly, alluringly to the elven priestess. His Slave.
She could feel the creatures desires writhe in her mind, feel her resisting, boring self float away from her like a distant cloud, watching from the outside a scene she wasn't invited to, or necessary for, as the creature purred, and instructions on undoing its long, dark, leathery robe were snuggled into her mind, encouraging her to relax, and let the will of the creature guide her.
Her mind, however, was perhaps another thing. Her dreams and lusts and desires, all stocked as her body already was. It seemed that for all the changes to her body that had already transpired, now, something else of her was desired, a throbbing in her head, a pulsing of her mind and a singular word managed to stay and stick within her thoughts.. Masterful. Yes, that was what the creature here was, in assembling its ingredients, all the things assembled here to assist its will...
As was she. There was a slight-slithering like feeling sensation as the creature's will snuggled itself into her own, affirming the words the had been primed to think about herself. Master.
The creature before her was not as muscular nor virile as the Minotaurs before, nor was it a powerful demon, no, where her other 'Tormentors had been creatures of the flesh, this one was one of the mind. Hers as well. Thick, rubbery tendrils writhed under a face of alien perversion, an abomination, although Ilsa would never find herself thinking of her Master in that way ever. The abominable, twistedly beautiful creature lifted a hand, gesturing welcomingly, alluringly to the elven priestess. His Slave.
She could feel the creatures desires writhe in her mind, feel her resisting, boring self float away from her like a distant cloud, watching from the outside a scene she wasn't invited to, or necessary for, as the creature purred, and instructions on undoing its long, dark, leathery robe were snuggled into her mind, encouraging her to relax, and let the will of the creature guide her.