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Scale the wall?” “Kill.” Rose thought for a moment. “When we see a wounded deer, it is in our instincts to heal it, but when we see a wolfpack running down a faun, we do not interfere. The Mother taught us that all life is sacred, and to kill is to destroy something of yourself, but we still know the savagery of the wolf, especially the hungry one.” Rose glanced at her torso, the ribs showing, “The Mother’s sap is poison, and we dare not drink from it. If we are to survive, then we must free her master.” She looked back up at me, “But we are not like you, Queen Yavara, who can kill without thought. Many of us will hesitate to deliver the killing blow, and so many of us will die tomorrow. A day’s training does not fetish make a soldier.” But seeing indian your dead sisters will. I thought. It was a truth she wasn’t ready to accept, but she would know sex it soon. The nymphs were pacifists, shepherds of the forest, caretakers of the woodlands, and I was going to corrupt them as assuredly as Arbor would with her sap. Only I wouldn’t turn them into lecherous demonesses, but jaded killers. Castle Thorum was built to withstand armies numbering in the tens of thousands, but not once did any of the architects or engineers consider an assault by a couple hundred nymphs. I was counting on it. “It’s a trap.” I muttered, “They know I’ll come for her. They’re waiting for me.” Rose nodded. “Do you want to reconsider?” “Another day without food and you’ll be useless to me.” I said, looking at the evening sky, “The rangers prepare for night and morning attacks. At high noon tomorrow, we begin. Prepare yourself and your sisters in whatever way you need.” Rose nodded, and left without a word. I gazed at the high walls of Castle Thorum, their white stones bathed in the pink glow of the setting sun. I was going to break my promise to Elena. I was going to attack the Highlands. Hell Hath No fury... By aliveinpr My stories do not necessarily reflect my personal proclivities, desires, wants or fantasies. This is a fictional story, so read and enjoy. Just like you would find in “Cosmo”, all the signs were there. Jake cumshot and I had been married for over 10 years. I saw our marriage as ideal and I thought Jake had the same opinion. We handled chores around the house equally, I even liked mowing and general yard work. I even did some minor repairs around the exgf house. If I knew more about cars, I probably would have been a ‘grease monkey’ like Jake, oil changes, air filters, checking brakes and tires, etc. Our love life was very good as Jake made me feel well loved and some times he would make me cum. Neither one of us were experienced when it came to sex. Snapping me out of my own cumshot thoughts, was Dad’s whispers about “the sweet ass I had”. I looked at Ryan and he just nodded. Her vaginal muscles, strengthened by years of yoga exercises, were now being used to massage another man’s center of pleasure in a most intimate exgf fetish and intense rhythm of tight stroking. At one point she said that she felt a little over-dressed with her wearing a skirt and top and me wearing nothing. Then I went back to getting him off, it was only about 5 more minutes and I could feel him get harder and he started to pump, he grabbed my head and pulled it into his crotch, I knew he was close, and he blew his load. I slide in. I slide out. She giggled girlishly as I tried to move my head away from her, but her telekinetic powers kept me in place. “Sam,” I mouthed, arching my eyebrows. Jake was soon breathing heavily. On a hunch, I asked her, "Which part feels the best?" I doffed my robe and closed the door behind me with a gentle touch. Is that a good way to start as a 2-star slave?" It wasn't as thick as my Black futa-lover. I’m not going to love someone I will not be seeing another 12 years.” He then told me he could prescribe some anti-depressants and another quit smoking drug. I panicked at his words and automatically my sex hand went indian towards him. “Of course, it is my dear. I’ve been raped. I thank her and settle down in the aisle seat with her to my right, shoving my bag in the small footwell between my legs.