“Just keep your head raised, Nathalie.”
“Yes, Mistress Ava.”
“People are going to notice us, Master,” yowled my first sex slave, the lamia scampering before me. “Slata’s hairy cunt!” I gasped, my cunt spasming so hard around her probing tongue, my juices bathing her face. “Gods, yes,” I moaned, my eyes fluttering at the delight she gave me, my pussy clenching, drinking in the hot glide of her cunt. I enjoyed it. Ava and Aingeal sucked louder, the faerie’s pink butterfly wings fluttering as they thrust from her back. I dragged my poor sister with me. I neared my rapture. Every blow fell on a different part of my rump, moving around my butt-cheeks. The entire city had come awake thanks to the uproar. The Colony was shaped like a large hound that was the size of a small pony, it’s form made of grains of rippling sand that could break apart or flow back together.
