sex

The next three days dissolve into a haze of sweat, cum, and absolute surrender. There is no rest, no reprieve, only the relentless, rhythmic assertion of your ownership. You fuck her with a ferocity that would have broken any other woman, but Sam your Sam only thrives under the onslaught.

First comes the vaginal claiming. You drive yourself into her swollen, slick folds repeatedly, each thrust a reminder that her hips, her womb, her very pleasure exist solely to serve your cock. She arches beneath you, her massive breasts bouncing wildly, her voice reduced to incoherent moans of worship. When you switch to anal, stretching her tight, puckered entrance with ruthless abandon, she doesn't flinch; she begs for the fullness, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy as you claim every inch of her body.

Then come the hours spent on your lap, her mouth working feverishly around your cock. She performs oral with a desperate, starving intensity, as if tasting the very essence of her master. She swallows every drop you give her, licking your cock clean with a devotion that borders on the religious.

As the days , the Paladin dies completely, replaced by something far more obscene. When you finally allow her to dress, she rejects her armor and her dignified robes entirely. She emerges from the chamber as your personal slut decked in scraps of transparent lace, micro skirts that barely cover her ass, and cleavage baring tops that struggle to contain her heavy, golden breasts.

She walks through the halls not as a holy warrior, but as a proud, shameless cunt. When others stare, she doesn't blush; she smirks, her hand instinctively brushing over the inked name 'TIM' between her thighs, as if to remind the world that she is claimed, she is used, and she is utterly, gloriously owned.