Betray Minerva

Can you really sacrifice her for your own self-preservation?

Why, sure you can. That demonic looking bitch spiked you with some sort of lust draft, and for all you know, this could all be some sort of setup.

Lifting your eyes to meet the Mistress’s you silently nod your head in compliant defeat.

She removes your gag and waits impatiently as you take a moment to reaccommodate your mouth with its ability to speak.

“Well? Spit it out, slave. Who gave you this medicine? I want a name.”

You lick your chapped lips and nod resignedly. “Some demonic looking girl. She kind of looked like you. I think she said her name was Minerva.”

The Mistress scoffs and gives you an amused smile. “Of course it was her.”

She regards your pathetic, beaten body for a moment. “I appreciate your forthrightness. No honor among friendly little sluts, it seems.”

You shake your head in annoyance. “She’s not my friend. I don’t give a damn what you do with her.”

The Mistress raises her eyebrows at you with mischievous delight. “That’s cold, even for me. Perhaps you’d enjoy watching me ravage and torture her as well? There will certainly be plenty of that.”

Was that a rhetorical question, or was she genuinely asking?

You look to the Mistress confusedly for a moment, and it seems that she is legitimately awaiting your reply.

Watch her sexually assault Minerva? What kind of sick, depraved bastard would take her up on that offer?