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The Princess | flowwerfish | 1

 

It is dark in this dank cavern, and my wrists are so sore. I feel like I have been here for a thousand years, bound wrist and ankle and breathed upon by the yuckiest of dragons. Such a slime-breath . . But now, finally, I am freed. By you, gallant adventurer! Dragon-breath lays dead, his scales pierced by your magical shimmery sword. In the light of the torches which hang upon the wall I view you kneeling there, spent, your shield blackened but not beaten, your breath coming back into your lungs. And I am so grateful.

In fact, I owe you not only my thanks but also my life.
You free me from my bonds, and together we exit the hole of the beast, pausing only to fill a leather bag with a few coins, some brilliant and luscious jewels, a silver candle-holder, a carven mask made of some finer metal and a few other items of beauty and worth.

Now, we are free, settled down in a valley far down from the slopes of the Misty Mountains. We have dined, and you have fed me well. We lay spread out upon a beautiful pale-golden quilt which is stuffed with fur and feathers. I am sated, as are you. However, I am still hungry . . ..

Upon what would you wish for me to feast, to gladly repay my debt?

 

What would you like, a blow job perhaps? Or maybe you too are still hungry? It's your call:


          I want to lick ya all up

          I want to get sucked!

 
 
 

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