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... torches flickered gently, casting red shadows on the canvas that pulsed like living wounds. My prize had just been brought to me.
She entered without a word. Liora Veyra, White General of the Eastern Domain. Her pale scale armor had been torn off, piece by piece, thrown to the ground like useless skin. All that remained was a dark, torn fabric, pressed against her thighs and her breasts, swollen with exertion and fear. Her wrists, bound behind her back, forced her chest to bulge, her nip ...
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