Delivering the gift

THUMP.

Allen's boot landed hard on Calla's twitching cunt one last time, flattening her slick, burning folds into the floor like a stamp of ownership.

"FUCKING—NGGHHH!!" she shrieked, legs kicking out helplessly as cursed leaf pulp oozed from her slit in a trail of sticky green froth.

The chamber was alive with the sounds of filth—SCHHLRP, SPLRRRK, and the constant high-pitched sobbing from maids shaking on the floor, their thighs splayed, pussies red and spitting slick like overripe fruit in the sun.

Allen didn't blink.

His voice rang out, cold and sharp.

"Kael."

Kael froze mid-step, the box sloshing on his shoulder, its contents groaning faintly within.

"Yes, Master?" he croaked.

Allen stepped forward, each footfall a deliberate CLACK against the cum-slick stone. He stopped just in front of Kael, towering.