Yes, and Meritheir is furious.

Meritheir’s eyes fluttered open and she let out a sultry moan. This was the way she preferred to be woken – by someone’s tongue lapping at her pussy. The slavegirl gave her a terrified look when she saw the witch was a awake, and then went back to eating out the cum that remained from her last night’s fucking.

The girl was one of the local villagers. As Meritheir recalled, she had been a virgin when she’d arrived, and her deflowering had made for a pleasant evening’s entertainment.

Thinking of that made her think of another virgin – a stuck up half-elf bitch with far more magical talent than she deserved. Of course, that one wouldn’t be a virgin much longer – not now she’d completed the negotiations with Duke Broek. She shivered at the thought of her recent lover **** her slender ward. Her hands tangled in the hair of the girl between the legs, and the peasant gave a choked squeak as she was **** closer to the witch’s pussy.

He would fuck her until he knocked her up, of course – that was the key point of his ritual. By the time he returned her, Meritheir was sure the girl’s spirit would be broken. There’d be no pretence of ‘apprenticeship’ then, no maintaining the ruse that the whore’s get was worthy to learn Meritheir’s magical arts. She’d deny the girl clothes, she decided, and allow anyone in the tower to use her however they wished.

She smiled at the thought of Shairi, nude with a swollen belly, being casually fucked by her male slaves. And, assuming she survived the birth of the creature Broek intended to summon into her womb, Meritheir could find many other uses for her.

She came at the thought, and the villager pulled away from her, gasping. Looking around her opulent bedchamber, Meritheir saw a red-skinned demon waiting patiently for her attention. Its horned head was bowed, but its huge crimson cock stood tall and hard at its waist. Doubtless it was aroused from the lesbian scene it had witnessed, although it was too intimidated by its summoner to do more than look. On a whim, Meritheir decided she’d let it **** the peasant girl to entertain her as she dressed.

“What is it?” she asked, sitting up in her luxurious bed.

“Mistress…” the demon began fearfully. “It’s Shairi…”

“Well? What’s the little bitch done now?”

“Mistress, she’s… gone.”

“WHAT?!” Crackling arcs of lightning played across Meritheir’s naked skin as her magic made her anger manifest. But under that anger was fear. Broek was not the sort of person you double-crossed, and if she failed to deliver a mystically potent half-elf virgin as promised, his **** would be terrible.

“She can’t have got far. FIND HER!”