As always, she wondered how much he enjoyed it. He made a grinding sort of noise through his teeth as she did it, before making a fist out of her hair...and pulling her off of him at his pace. The ritual continued according to tradition... but she wasn't exactly prepared. They only very rarely made it so far as that.Steeling herself for the imminent, she breathed deeply as he stood. He pulled her to her feet by her hair and dragged her behind the couch, where he bent her over. All of her breath. Then all goes quiet. When the brightness fades, I can see the orcs are all dead and standing amidst the carnage, bloody sword in hand, an old bearded man with a pointy hat and a staff. It’s you, ‘Gandalf the Grey‘ or Mithrandir to my people. Shocked as I am by everything that has just happened, I can’t help but notice how you seem to scrutinize every detail of the scene in front of you. Me, standing, bound to a tree, gown wide open, panties torn, totally exposed to your gaze. “Are you unhurt? I. More

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