In a dimly lit room, on an old iron bed lay a figure - Alpha Xavier, the infamous werewolf. Drugged into unconsciousness, he was unaware that his limbs were securely bound to the frame. Pulling the curtains to create privacy, I began the daunting task of undressing, marking the 35th day of my enslavement within the Sin Pack. With 35 more years to serve, my plan was to escape尽快.
"Who's there?" His senses kicked in as I discarded the bra, his voice filled with confusion.
"Identify yourself," he demanded, his voice laced with disbelief.
Remaining silent, I let him struggle, his vision obscured by his tie, unable to see me.
"Could it be Leila? Is that you?" He called out, surprisingly recognizing my name despite the lack of sight.
"Leila, stop!" he pleaded, unaware of my true intentions.
I didn't respond, knowing time was precious. The entire Sin Pack was searching for him, least expecting a mere slave like me to defy them so boldly.
This act of abduction wasn't about rescue, but a calculated move for vengeance. Climbing atop him, I grasped his arousal, and without hesitation, lowered myself onto him, feeling the tearing agony within my body. Blood stained my thighs, marking the loss of innocence.
Collapsed on top of him, tears streaming down my face, I whispered into his ear, "Alpha Xavier, please... allow me to carry your child." My eyes held no mercy, only the burning desire for retribution.
