Isiliraiellyn was clearly enjoying herself.
She lounged confidently in one of the chairs stationed outside a seedy pub.
It was one unmistakably set up for public displays of debauchery.
The worn-down cushion and faint scent of sex on the air made it obvious this wasn't a place for casual drinking.
And at her feet, three women knelt obediently.
Their foreheads almost touched the ground, their heads bowed low in submission, their tongues delicately licking the glossy upper leather of Isiliraiellyn's shoes like worshippers at a shrine.
The glint in her eyes, the smirk stretching wide across her face... she was in absolute bliss.
Her entire posture screamed arrogance and delight, the kind of glee that oozed out from someone who was basking in the illusion of absolute power.
To say I was surprised would be an understatement.
