They're like helpless school girls.

Magic takes years to master. Demons are lucky, beings infused with an array of magical abilities, but even for an elf it can take decades to become dangerous and powerful. The acolytes are all barely through their teens at best, still learning how to channel mystic energies and able to do little more than make a torchlight with it. There are a neat dozen of them and rounding them up for Anja to subdue is laughably easy.

"Oh...they're so pretty..." Anja coos, cradling one girl in her arms, her fingers pressing through the girl's thin robes to the body underneath.

You have to admit, the cave has been in no short supply of beauty, and to call what the acolytes wore 'robes' was almost a joke they showed so much leg and cleavage. Your own lust had risen phenomenally while handling these girls and you can't imagine how unbearable it has become for Anja.

"Please Master...can I enjoy one now?" she begs of you, fondling the sleeping girl more, crushing her dark breasts in her own need.

"Just drink carefully," you caution with a grin, watching as Anja's hand begins to slip under the robe as she takes the girl in an unwaking kiss. Anja has earned her fun.

Safe from interference now you look around the room, deciding on the next step to take.