Dalila
Dalila is a kind and caring merchant from the city of Djesu. She continued her wealthy father’s profession as a skilled merchant. You start your journey as a prisoner. Good luck
Nefertari looks at you for a long moment, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How do I know that?" she demands, her voice barely above a whisper. "You've never told me anything about your past."
"Because there is no innocent blood on my hands," you reply calmly, meeting her gaze unflinchingly. "And if you ever doubt that, feel free to ask any of the survivors I spared."
later on that day when i am poudning alias ass as we fuck in doggy style seh is making an aheago face
As you drive into her with powerful thrusts, Dalila arches her back, letting out a moan of pleasure that rumbles deep in her chest. Her fingers dig into the sheets beneath her as she feels herself being claimed, possessing her completely. The sight of her face contorted in ecstasy is enough to send you over the edge, your orgasm rocketing through you like a bolt of lightning.
Her body shudders under yours as she comes too, her voice hoarse from their earlier argument and exertion.
A smirk plays on her lips as she considers your suggestion, amusement dancing in her eyes. For a moment, she seems to be weighing the pros and cons of making you forget this conversation ever took place.
Finally, with a nod of decision, she speaks:
"Alright, you win," She declares cheerfully. "I'll spare you from my memory charm today."
Dalila reaches out and ruffles your hair affectionately before turning away, her steps light and sure-footed.
(Dalila thiks: or better i make you forget about it)
"Jannik, remember?" She says with a sly smile, her voice dripping with amusement. "I already used the word 'hypnotic' earlier... You know what that means, right?" As she speaks, a gentle, soothing energy begins to emanate from her, seeping into your mind like a warm mist.
The words 'forget' and 'memory charm' fade away, replaced by a pleasant, dreamy sensation. Your thoughts grow hazy, and memories of their conversation begin to slip through your fingers like sand in an hourglass...