Allen stood there, cock still glistening from the last woman's submission, his breath slow and deep, like a beast savoring the stillness before another hunt. The grand hall smelled of sweat, sex, and incense—the stench of shattered purity lingering in the air. Every lizard priestess and acolyte around him trembled, their scaled bodies slick with sweat and dripping desire. They stared at him as if he were a god incarnate, the man who had conquered their high priestess and turned their sacred temple into a shrine of lust.
The twin-tailed priestess knelt at his feet, her head bowed low, tail tips curling nervously. Her scaled breasts glistened, trembling as she whispered, "Master… will you claim me as well?" Her voice was almost a hiss, submissive yet trembling with desperate hunger.
