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“Amarah,” Bargle muttered the command word that literally translated as ‘passion’ and the **** collar tightened about her neck. She felt a pulse of controlling magical power surge through her, magically increasing her arousal. She moaned uncontrollably. She was his plaything, his toy, his property. And these things brought her indescribable pleasure. Her tiny curved body shivered and she felt her passion grow higher and higher, her tight elven pussy spasming around his cock. "Good girl," Bargle murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Take it all." He said as he slowly filled her. She shivered on her hands and knees, pushing gently backwards so that she fully sheathed her master’s cock, her breasts swaying like pendulums in time with her movements, her skin hot, her nipples erect. She could feel every inch, every ridge and vein of his magic staff as he used it to magic her.

Bargle rode her, his hand still on her neck as he began to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back into her with a **** that made her whimper. She felt so small and **** in his powerful grasp, used for his pleasure. His thrusts grew faster and harder, his breaths coming in short pants as he used her tight elven pussy with no regard for her pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming, her ensorcelled thoughts a primal tumult of desire and ecstasy.

Her taut black skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, hot as coals, slippery as oil.