Yes, have a friendly sparring match with Lae'zel that'll weaken her for Minthara

You smile at Lae'zel finding to wooden swords and toss one to her. "A friendly spar," you suggest, "to pass the time before the festivities begin." She catches the sword with a nod, her eyes never leaving yours. The tension in the air is palpable, but it's not hostile—it's the thrill of competition, of two predators circling each other.

The match begins, your swords clashing in a rhythmic dance of steel and wood. Each strike is met with an equal counter, each parry a silent conversation of strength and skill.

Lae'zel's eyes narrow as she studies your technique, looking for an opening. You give her a respectful nod, acknowledging her skill, but also letting her know you're not one to underestimate. You both circle, the sound of your boots scraping against the dirt floor echoing in the vast, torch-lit chamber.

You use the hilt to bash it against her flat toned stomach, causing Lae'zel to stumble back slightly, gasping for air. She recovers quickly, though, her eyes blazing with determination. You can see the respect in her gaze as she readies herself for the next round of the spar.

Over the next twenty minutes, you keep giving Lae'zel punishing blows, pushing her to her limits. She parries, counters, and occasionally lands a hit of her own, but you can tell she's feeling the strain. Her movements become less graceful, more ****.

Her body on the verge of collapse, Lae'zel's breathing becomes labored, her strokes less precise. You see the sweat beading on her forehead, her muscles trembling with fatigue. But she doesn't quit. Her warrior spirit burns bright, and she fights on.

She calls out weakly. "I yield," dropping to one knee, panting heavily. You approach her, extending a hand to help her up. As she takes it, your eyes meet, and you can see the flicker of doubt and curiosity in hers. You've shown her your strength, now it's time for Minthara to show her the power of temptation.

Minthara saunters into the training ground, a seductive smile playing on her lips. "Looks like you could use a break," she purrs, her voice like honey to Lae'zel's weary ears. Lae'zel nods, her breathing still ragged.

You take a step back, allowing Minthara to step in. She extends her hand to Lae'zel, her eyes never leaving hers. "Let me show you something that will make all this pain worthwhile," she whispers, her hand caressing Lae'zel's cheek. The Gith's eyes widen slightly as the tadpole in her mind starts to pulse with an alien need.

Minthara and you both use the tap pole strengths to break down Lae'zel mental capabilities, making her more susceptible to your influence. With Lae'zel on her feet but visibly exhausted, Minthara's fingers trace a line from her cheek to her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Lae'zel's eyes glaze over slightly as the tadpole within her stirs.

"You are not a fighter. You are a breeder. This body is made for pleasure, not pain," Minthara whispers, her breath hot against Lae'zel's ear. The tadpole inside her seems to respond to the words, its hunger growing more intense. Lae'zel tries to resist, but she's too drained from the spar to put up much of a fight. "You want John. He wants you. You know it's true."

You watch as Lae'zel's expression shifts from defiance to confusion, the tadpole's influence beginning to take hold. Her hand trembles as it rests on the hilt of her sword, her eyes flicking between the two of you. "What...what are you talking about?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Minthara reach out guiding Lar'zel green hand towards your cock. "Make your choice. Your sword or his."

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