Zealot

Zannah was a WildCAT, but she always had been. Even from her teens, so many millennia ago, she'd enjoyed finding new and novel ways to wile away her longevity, pushing her superhuman stamina and durability to its very limits.

Thus it was now, as she writhed on the floor, using her sword in her favourite way, sweat running down her body. She'd started off slowly, all those days ago, teasing herself, **** to speed up, but now, on the second week of multiple self-inflicted orgasms, she was at full speed, her hands a blur. Lost in this moment of many moments, she never even saw the figure that was now looking down at her.