20. Milkor

20

MILKOR

" P retend she's me," Meetha whispers in my ear, her voice a sultry purr that sends shivers down my spine. "Let your mind believe she's my twin, that there are two of me for your pleasure."

I swallow hard, my gaze traveling over the girl's form. She's a mirror image of Meetha, with the same dark eyes, the same lush curves. The illusion is intoxicating, and despite the twisted game, my body responds with an eager hunger.

Meetha's hands roam over the girl's body, her touch confident and sure. She kisses the girl deeply, and I can see the tremble in the girl's lips give way to a desperate need. Meetha breaks the kiss, turning to me with a wicked grin.

"See?" she says, her fingers trailing down the girl's cheek. "She's just as eager as I am."

I step forward, my heart pounding in my chest. The girl's breath hitches as I draw near, her eyes locked onto mine. I can feel the heat of Meetha's gaze on us, watching, waiting.

As I lean in, my lips brush against the girl's, and for a moment, I allow myself to believe Meetha's lie. I kiss her with a fervor that borders on desperation, tasting the sweetness of her mouth, the warmth of her breath mingling with mine.

The world around me blurs into a haze of pleasure as I feel Meetha's lips wrap around my cock, her mouth a hot, wet paradise that threatens to unravel my very sanity. The sensation is overwhelming, a torrent of ecstasy that courses through my veins like liquid fire.

I'm kneeling on the plush cushions, the daughter's body pressed against mine, our lips locked in a passionate kiss that mirrors the one Meetha bestows upon my aching member. The girl's hips grind against my hand, seeking friction, as I plunge my fingers into her slick heat, her moans muffled by our kiss.

The dual sensations of Meetha's mouth on my cock and the daughter's eager response to my touch are almost too much to bear. I can feel the pressure building within me, a storm of pleasure that threatens to sweep away all rational thought.

Meetha's eyes meet mine, her gaze dark with lust and power. She's orchestrating this symphony of desire, her magic weaving an erotic spell that ensnares us all. The daughter whimpers against my lips, her body shuddering as I curve my fingers inside her, finding that sweet spot that elicits a cry of pure need.

I break the kiss, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I watch Meetha slide her lips up and down my shaft, her tongue teasing the sensitive underside. The sight of her, so wanton and uninhibited, pushes me closer to the brink.

The room spins as Meetha releases me from the sweet torment of her mouth. She lies back on the cushions, her body a feast for the senses, and I can't help but drink in the sight of her, wild and untamed. Her eyes lock onto mine, a silent command that sets my blood aflame.

She beckons the daughter, who hesitates for a fraction of a second before moving toward us, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. Meetha guides her, positioning her so that she straddles her face, and I watch, transfixed, as the young woman's eyes flutter shut, her body trembling with anticipation.

The image is surreal, a living tableau of carnal desires that defies all logic and reason. Meetha's hands grip the daughter's hips, pulling her down onto her waiting mouth, and the daughter's gasp of pleasure echoes through the room, a testament to Meetha's skilled tongue.

I am captivated by the sight of them, the rhythmic undulation of their bodies moving in a primal dance as old as time. Meetha's hand reaches out for me, her fingers wrapping around my straining cock.

The world tilts on its axis as she guides me to her entrance, the heat of her nearly scorching my flesh. I thrust forward, burying myself deep inside her, and the sensation of her tight walls gripping me is almost too much to bear.

The sight of Meetha pleasuring the daughter while I move within her is a vision of debauchery that drives me to the brink of madness. I am lost in a sea of sensation, each thrust driving us closer to the abyss, the ecstasy building to a crescendo that threatens to consume us all.

Meetha's moans vibrate against the daughter's core, the sound muffled yet somehow more erotic for the barrier between them. I can feel the daughter's orgasm building, her body tense and shuddering as Meetha's relentless tongue brings her to the edge.

With a final, strangled cry, the daughter shatters, her body convulsing with the force of her release.

The daughter's cries of ecstasy reverberate through the room, a siren's call that sends a shiver of pleasure down my spine. Meetha's tongue works tirelessly, drawing out the girl's release until her body can take no more. The girl's knees buckle, and she rolls off Meetha's face, her body still shuddering with the aftershocks of her climax.

Meetha turns to me, her lips glistening, a look of predatory satisfaction in her eyes. I am captivated by the sight of her, flushed with the thrill of her conquest, her dark eyes gleaming with a primal hunger that mirrors my own. She reaches for me, her fingers tracing the lines of my chest, her touch igniting a fire that rages within me.

I resume my rhythm, each thrust deeper and more fervent than the last. Meetha's moans grow louder, her nails digging into my flesh as she matches my tempo. The world around us fades into insignificance, our bodies moving in sync, our breaths mingling in a dance as old as time.

The pressure within me builds, a tempest of desire that threatens to tear me apart. Meetha's walls tighten around me, her body trembling on the edge of release. I can feel her climax approaching, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to sweep us both away.

With a final, powerful thrust, Meetha howls a cry of release that is music to my ears. Her body convulses around mine as her orgasm crashes over her.

My body is a taut bowstring, vibrating with the tension of impending release. Meetha's mouth, her hands, the very essence of her being conspires to drive me to the edge of sanity. "I'm going to come!" I bellow, the sound echoing off the walls of the room, a primal declaration of my impending climax.

Meetha's eyes lock onto mine, a wicked gleam shining in their depths. "I want you sliding down my throat," she commands, her voice firm yet sultry. It's all the invitation I need.

I pull out from her slick heat, the sensation of withdrawal almost unbearable. My cock, swollen and aching, is presented to her waiting lips. She opens her mouth, welcoming me in, and I thrust forward, driven by instinct and need.

The moment her lips close around me, the world explodes. My climax rips through me, a tempest of pleasure so intense it borders on pain. I roar, the sound muffled by the wet heat of Meetha's mouth as I spill myself into her. Pulse after pulse of hot, liquid ecstasy pours from me, and she takes it all, her throat working as she swallows my essence.

Spent, I collapse onto the cushions, gasping for breath, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. My vision swims, spots of light dancing before my eyes as I struggle to regain my senses.

Through the haze of my post-orgasmic bliss, I watch as Meetha, still glowing with the flush of her own release, reaches for the daughter. The young woman, her eyes wide and dazed, allows herself to be pulled into Meetha's embrace.

Meetha's lips claim the daughter's in a searing kiss, the sight of it sending a fresh jolt of arousal coursing through me. I watch, transfixed, as some of my come is shared between them, their tongues mingling in a sensual dance that is both erotic and surreal.

For a moment, I see double. Two Meethas, identical in every way, locked in a passionate embrace, their mouths slick with my seed. It's a sight that is both bewildering and arousing, a testament to Meetha's power and her unquenchable thirst for pleasure.

My heart thunders in my chest as I watch Meetha rise from the tangled mass of cushions and limbs, her eyes alight with a mischievous fire that promises more chaos to come. The club around us, once a cacophony of debauchery, has fallen into a stunned silence, the patrons and performers alike gawking at the spectacle we've created.

Meetha saunters over to the club owner, her hips swaying with a predator's grace, her every step a declaration of her power. The man who once held sway over this den of vice now stands before her, his face pale, his hands trembling. He has seen what she is capable of, and the fear in his eyes is as intoxicating as the finest elven wine.

"You've been a very bad boy," Meetha purrs, her voice carrying across the silent room. "Stealing from your girls, forcing them to do unspeakable things for your own gain... it's time you learned what it's like to be on the other side."

With a flick of her wrist, a swirl of arcane energy dances around her fingertips. The air crackles with electricity, a tangible force that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Meetha's magic is a wild thing, untamed and beautiful, a reflection of her own untamed spirit.

The club owner's eyes widen in horror as Meetha places her hand on his chest, the energy pulsing brighter with each passing second. "From this day forward," she intones, her voice echoing with power, "you will walk in the shoes of those you've wronged. You will live as a woman, and perhaps then, you'll learn some goddamn empathy."

The transformation is swift and brutal. The man's body contorts, his muscles and bones shifting and reshaping beneath his skin. His clothes tear and rip as his frame shrinks, his broad shoulders narrowing, his rough features softening into a delicate beauty that mirrors Meetha's own.