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In a land of ancient lore, a warrior fierce and fair,
Strode forth to face her mortal foe, a mage of dark despair.
She wielded blade of shining steel, her armor gleamed like night,
Her courage stood unyielding, in the face of magic’s might.

The mage, a sorcerer of dread, with power black as coal,
Raised his staff and muttered words, to bend her very soul.
A spell of lust and ecstasy, a curse not known before,
Was cast upon our heroine, and shook her to the core.

The waves of pleasure, fierce and wild, coursed through her every vein,
Arousal surged within her breast, a torrent like the rain.
She clenched her teeth and fought the tide, her focus blurred and dim,
But still, she strode with purpose, toward the mage so dark and grim.

Her muscles trembled, weakness crept, she faltered in her gait,
Yet still she fought to reach the mage, to conquer this cruel fate.
The pleasure swelled within her, her breath came fast and hot,
Her legs grew weak, her vision blurred, but still, she would not rot.

Through the haze of ecstasy, her blade flashed in the sun,
Its gleaming arc a symbol, that this fight was far from won.
The mage, appalled at her resolve, grew desperate and afraid,
He channeled darker forces, to ensure her will would fade.

But even as the pleasure mounted, more than ever known,
The warrior’s spirit did not waver, her resolve like solid stone.
And then, at last, the moment came, a climax fierce and wild,
Her body shook, her senses reeled, as innocence defiled.

An orgasm, vast and shattering, consumed her like a storm,
Her body fell, her armor cracked, her spirit frail and worn.
Her heart did race, her breath did catch, her eyes rolled back in bliss,
Yet in this maelstrom of desire, her spirit would persist.

Each shudder shook her to the core, her limbs quaked like the earth,
But in the depths of ecstasy, she found a new rebirth.
For as the wave did crest and break, she grasped a spark of power,
To fight the spell’s cruel hold, in that defining hour.

She rose again, her limbs still weak, but spirit fierce and bright,
And with a cry of vengeance, she charged with all her might.
The battle raged, the spell was broken, and in the end, the mage did fall,
Her triumph won, her honor saved, her victory enthralled.

For though her body trembled, and her pride was deeply scarred,
The warrior’s strength and courage had triumphed over the dark.
In epic tales and songs of old, her story will remain,
A testament to perseverance, in the face of deepest pain.

And so the legend goes, of a warrior fair and bold,
Who fought against a mage’s curse, and broke its twisted hold.
Let all who hear this tale be filled with hope and strength anew,
For in the face of darkest trials, a hero’s heart rings true.

NSFW: yes

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