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- Id: 116569
-
Posted: 2021-05-08 00:40:15
by Sleepyhead97 - Size: 6963x4351
- Source: www.deviantart.com/moophr...emon-Femdom-POV-866667058
- Rating: Questionable
- Score: 205 (vote up)
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>> #418918
Score: 3 (vote Up)
MAKE ME INTO FURNITURE SABRINA~~~ *drools and swoons*
>> #418960
Score: 0 (vote Up)
YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES
MAKE ME INTO FURNITURE SABRINA~~~ *drools and swoons*
I second that
>> #435063
Score: 2 (vote Up)
---
Your knees were already weakening before you made your challenge. In fact, you had been feeling strange ever since you stepped inside the Saffron City Gym, as if a sweet pink fog was tickling the edges of your thoughts. For some stupid reason, you couldn’t get the plaque at the gym entrance out of your head:
“Sabrina, the Mistress of Psychic-Type Pokémon!”
Something about the word mistress in particular snagged at your attention, tugging your mind back to the inscription long after you first read it, the syllables rolling around inside your brain as if somebody was still whispering them to you while you battled your way past the gym trainers.
Sabrina, the Mistress of Psychic-Type Pokémon!
Sabrina, the Mistress of Psychic...
Sabrina the Mistress...
Mistress... Sabrina...
‘I am Sabrina. I had a vision of your arrival.’
A vision? You blinked, suddenly unable to remember how you had made it this far into the building. Had you defeated all the gym trainers already? There were strange figures lurking in the shadows here, glassy-eyed and... underdressed, but they were all so motionless and cloaked in fog that they might have just been statues. Every one of them knelt or bowed before the gym leader.
Whether her psychic prescience was real or not, Sabrina herself was a definitely a vision: poised and athletic, with a swoop of raven hair and legs so shapely that your mouth turned dry just looking at them. And those eyes. Were they pink, red... green? It didn’t matter: the moment you stared into them it was as if you had been nailed to the floor.
‘Poor little trainer. You still think you’re here to battle me, don’t you?’
That voice — it was as if she was speaking to you from just behind your ear, so close that you could feel her breath across the hairs on the back of your neck. You were intimately aware of each soft little noise made by her lips and tongue as they shaped her words.
‘You won’t be needing those.’ Sabrina flicked her hand and your belt suddenly lightened — all of those chunky red-and-white spheres that you had been carrying around for no good reason flew away into the darkness. You felt so much better without them weighing you down. In fact, each word Sabrina spoke lifted a worry from your mind and left a wonderful pink cloud in its place.
‘That’s it,’ she said, as your head chimed like a bell. ‘Sink into my power.’
She sat down on a nearby chair. Or — wait, was it a chair? It almost looked like a girl, naked and drooling, her eyes glazed over in an expression of utter bliss, but you didn’t give it a second thought; not after Sabrina crossed her legs. Your whole world filled with the gorgeous flow and shimmer of those stockinged legs, from the thick flesh squashed around her thighs, to the curves of her calves, all the way down to her feet. Her sensuous, sweat-moistened feet.
Every tiny wriggle of her toes made you desperate to have them in your mouth.
You could practically hear her nylons creak as she settled herself more comfortably.
‘Well, trainer. This is your last chance — if you have any good reason not to live out the rest of your life as my spellbound, drooling slave, tell me now and I might consider letting you go.’
Slave. As soon as you heard that word, everything made perfect sense. That was why you’d come here in the first place, wasn’t it? To beg Mistress Sabrina to accept you as her slave? To prostrate yourself before her, to bow down before this magnificent woman with her icy demeanour and her glorious nylon-wrapped legs and to offer her anything, everything, just to please her. To replace every foolish little worry in your mind with wonderful pink clouds and let Mistress take control.
A lifetime of servitude.
A lifetime at Her feet.
You feel your knees begin to bend.
>> #450150
Score: 0 (vote Up)