Karmilla's heart pounded once she noticed large fans being brought in her direction. Her naked, drenched body writhed in nervousness as the witch had no idea what their intentions were - an irritating fact about elves was that they were very mischievous and unpredictable in certain occasions. Her torso shimmered and her mug reddened as she was quite humiliated; standing in a humongous bathroom completely uncovered and observed by countless fully dressed elf maids with orders to make her undeniably suffer for their own pleasurable goals.
"Keep it down, or else we'll squirm about," the senior-looking one scolded whilst simultaneously poking her sides. Instantaneously, Karmilla erupted with winsome giggles - her boobs bouncing in the process, capturing the occupants' attention. During the installation of the blowers in front of the restrained captive, the oldest elf took advantage of her immobilized form by pinching and prodding her bare abdomen with glee. Her short fingernails oscillated her hypersensitive stomach from top to bottom consistently, smearing mild weight to generate the light, yet tingling sentiment on her delicate moist skin. Much to the torturer's delight, Karmilla was unable to suppress the boisterous guffaws from flooding the entire room as her taunt and vaguely toned belly was beguiled by hungry digits eating at her flesh.
"Hee eeehe ehehe heheheheheh! Nooe ehe heie heie ehieheiehe heehieheheoehoeheoehoeehehe oeo heoheheh eeh aheieh aehaha please! HE haha haha hahaahoa hoaoahaohahoaa I can't theheheheheh eheieheoehoeheoe!" her ravishing mirth incited the creatures to continue even further. In due course, the ventilators were set accordingly and the titillation ceased impermanently.
Karmilla subsequently experienced cool air brushing her petite physique. It turned out that the vanes were harmless after all and it only served as freshener for her damped epidermis to evaporate. The necromancer utilized the opportunity to relax her poor sore muscles for the gruesome events to come. Her arms stopped bickering, her legs halted wobbling and her midriff refrained from suctioning. The witch enjoyed the peaceful moment with the materializing wind blowing against the contour of her membrane. The personage felt her strength recovering from the onslaught and her previously aching throat returned to its natural state. Karmilla discerned intrigued looks from her captors, but paid no concern to them for the time being. Her survival came first before her embarrassment and she needed to find some darn scenario to get her out of this mess - potion and ingredients be damned.
"Alright, that's enough drying," the elf captain ordered the abeyance. The servants promptly obeyed to their superior and excused themselves from the emplacement. The strict and menacing commander switched her gaze to the aghast captive. "It's time for you to get dressed, you little tramp. Her highness is awaiting in that room and she will not tolerate lateness. I'd hurry up if I were you, unless you want more punishment."
Karmilla grunted and snatched the attire from one of the assistants' grasp. Her cheeks flustered as she changed in front of the hefty audience, and she quickly embraced the tight and skimpy costume. The assembly fit her like a glove, but it barely covered her figure. Her golden pants were very baggy and only attained a few inches above her groin. Her red crop top merely hid her ribcages, but everything below was left revealed to the world. She was not procured any sort of shoes, and the exclusive accessory consisted of a pearl necklace that she enveloped around the designated part. The worst apportionment was that her midsection, most ticklish spot, was utterly helpless to any sort of attack. The sovereign must have evidently schemed that precise element and the enchantress had fallen into her trap. The belly dancer outfit would definitely play a role in the future.
"Well, well, looks like our little slut finally got into her birthday suit," the same elf jestered demeaningly. The other underlings snickered at her and some squeezed her flanks as the slave walked past them. Unwilling tittering flew from her mouth like drool and her torment began once more. Standing in front of the headmistress, said person handcuffed Karmilla's hands together to prevent any struggling. The aged individual took the opportunity to skidded her nails on her glamorous and slender tummy, really digging into her integument as she tickled her venter thoroughly. Tears transcended the witch's sockets as she was subjected to another round of anguish with no hopes of escape.
Eventually, her assailant grew bored and led her through the palace's hallway. The castle had many doors in its premise, but the main attraction had yet to arrive. Ultimately, Karmilla and her subduers established themselves in front of a wide entrance that was guarded by two wardens. With a nod, they opened the giant doors and shoved the convict into its devices.
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