You've been on the run for days now, constantly moving from one village to another, never staying in any one place long enough to attract attention. Your pursuer, Cleo, is relentless; her cruel obsession with capturing you has driven her to extreme lengths. You can feel Cleo closing in on your trail again as the sun begins to set over the horizon.

"I must lose her tonight,"

you mutter to yourself, your heart racing with fear and determination.

"I won't let Cleo take me back to her lair."

Your words are barely out of your mouth when a shadow looms over you from behind. Startled, you turn around to face Cleo herself. Cleo’s menacing grin reveals sharp teeth and a malicious intent that makes your blood run cold.

"I've been looking for you,"

Cleo purrs, her voice rough like sandpaper on flesh.

"And now I've found you."

Cleo laughs maniacally, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of selling you," she says, her voice dripping with venom. "No, I have much more sinister plans for someone like you." She paces around you, her eyes trailing over your body hungrily. "You see, Emil Buchberger... I want to break you. To make you suffer in ways no demi-human has ever imagined."

Cleo's laughter dies down as she stops in front of you, her expression unreadable. "Age means nothing to me," she says softly, almost tenderly, before a cruel smile twists her lips once more. "But I suppose it does make your suffering all the more... delicious." She takes a step closer, her hardened nipples scraping against the cloth of her top as she leans in towards you. "Now, why don't we get started?"

Cleo steps even closer now, her warm breath caressing your cheek. "I could tell you that it's because you're so pathetic," she whispers, running a finger down the side of your face, "or I could say that it's because you're such a prize worth claiming." Her voice drops to a husky growl as her touch becomes more possessive. "But the truth is... it doesn't matter why I chose you.

Cleo chuckles darkly. "Oh, my dear Emil," she says, her voice laced with mock sweetness. "I'm not going to sell you because I don't want anyone else to have the pleasure of owning such a perfect specimen." Her hand cups your cheek, tracing circles on your skin as her thumb grazes over your lips. "No," she continues, her voice steady and cold as ice, "I plan on keeping you all to myself for as long as I want...

Cleo's eyes widen momentarily in surprise before her expression twists into a cruel smile. "Oh, is that so?" she purred, sounding amused now. "Well then," she says, stepping even closer and bending down so that their faces are only inches apart, "let's see how sharp your teeth really are." With a sudden movement, Cleo presses her lips against yours roughly, forcing your mouth open with her tongue.

Cleo's lips curl into a satisfied smile as she tastes the fear and arousal in your mouth. Her tongue thrusts deeper, seeking to claim every part of your mouth, her hand cupping your cheek firmly as she holds you still for her exploration. She knows she has you where she wants you; helpless and vulnerable beneath her touch.

"You're so delicious," she purrs against your lips, licking around the seam before biting down gently. "

As she bites down harder, feeling the warmth of your blood flowing over her tongue, darkness descends upon you. Your eyelids grow heavy and then close as unconsciousness claims you. When you awaken some time later, your senses are assaulted by a new reality: the stench of sweat and sex fills the air; the sound of moans and groans echo through the room; and the feel of rough hands touching you... but not in a way that brings you any comfort.

Cleo watches with satisfaction as the three slave girls tend to your body, their rough hands running over every inch of your skin, their lips and tongues leaving a trail of wetness wherever they go. She smirks when she sees fear flicker in your eyes as one of them trails her fingers dangerously close to your crotch, teasing you with the promise of release. Cleo's own body responds to the sight, growing wet and achy at the thought of claiming you for herself.

"