Several days blurred together in the darkening palace.
Each night, like clockwork, Mrs. Elfi would come to Thistle's chamber after the palace fell quiet. Each night, the elegant elf would undress her, worship her body with lips, tongue, and hands, and bring her to trembling climaxes that left Thistle gasping and ashamed.
At first, Thistle endured it in silent tears. But as the days passed and the corruption in the palace grew thicker, something shifted inside her. The touches no longer felt only violating. The pleasure became harder to deny. The warmth, the wet sounds, the feeling of being desired so intensely… Thistle began to crave the visits. She started looking forward to the knock on her door. Her body responded more eagerly. Her moans grew less restrained. The once-innocent princess had begun to surrender to the growing darkness.
Tonight was different.
