Menmonica knew she had to resist the seductive pull of the enchanted water. Being a telepath, she had read the minds of the other slave girls. Mnemonica knew how many rebellious girls had been forced into the warm bath only to emerge meek and submissive.
With those lewd pictures still in mind, the undercover superheroine couldn’t say why she had even entered this chamber. Stripping out of her clothes did nothing to help her bring down the Indoctrinated Circle from the inside. Slipping into the warm, inviting tub didn’t bring any of the captured slave girls to freedom.
But when Mnemonica’s fingers grazed her pussy lips, and the fragrant warmth washed over her skin, the only thing she knew was the unavoidable pleasure of submission.
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