buirkal

"What a wimp." The nylon clad assassin said to her gasping victim. Her thighs were firmly holding his windpipe as the two of them slowly descended to the floor of the warlocks mansion. "Your boss must be a real weakling if he hires help such as you." The bodyguard didn't even hear her approach before she jumped upon his shoulders and placed her lithe, nylon thighs over and around his neck. He felt like a snake had been strangling him, slowly draining him of his strength. One thing he did take a good, long, hard notice of was her outfit and her physique. A dark, soft, glisteny nylon catsuit adorned her curvy body, barely holding her hips and her breasts in. Her thighs, though as strong as a python, were soft and shiny in the dark light of the corridor, just outside of his masters room. "G-get... off..." He said through heavy breathing. The bodyguard tried summoning fire to his fingers but only sparks were seen. She tapped his nose with a clawed finger and giggled girlishly. The