They didn’t usually talk about the war. It seemed everything to be said had already been said and the times when he’d try to reassure her were lon... gone. She was old enough to find her own comfort now.“They’re bastards,” he said eventually. “That whole fucking country is full of soulless bastards.”And of course it made sense. Because collectively they must have been. Why else would the bullets and the bombs keep coming? The government represented its people; their president had won by a. Her sleek blackhair was in a tight bun and her demeanor had the iron willed backbone of atrue Domme."You did a remarkable job preparing yourself this morning. That alonedefines you. Now, let's look you over, shall we?" she teased as her nimblefingers began rolling poor Julian's needy nipples."Yes, proper sissy shoes. High, stiletto, white patent leather heels withbow-trimmed ankle straps. Little frilly sissy ankle socks with sweetruffled, lacy bowed tops. Mmmm, just so perfectly pansy!"Now. Though not as strong as your father's, you too had lust powers which enabled you to inflame the passions of anyone you touched. You had no name and was simply referred to as "Warlord" by others.As you reached adulthood, you found out the whole reason of your birth. Your demon father wanted to turn the world into a one of sex and debauchery. And so it was prophesied that you were to be born to fulfill that plan.You had just conquered the neighboring kingdom and sat in your new throne. You were. . very calming, very welcoming. The music came from within the van. Speakers speaking, welcoming, inviting. Robynn comfortably smiled and made her way around the back of the van. And there he was. Damn. The glare of the sun reflecting off the glass made it difficult to see his face. ‘I made a phone call.’ He grunted. ‘A wrecker is on the way.’ He was fiddling with some tools. Robynn just kinda stood there thinking of something to say. ‘Thank you.’ The simple response and the most honest..
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