Elara’s sapphire eyes widened as the runes on the dungeon floor flared to life, trapping her in a cage of shimmering violet light. The magical bands snaked around her wrists and ankles, yanking her arms above her head and spreading her legs wide. Her ample tits, barely contained in her low-cut sorceress robes, heaved with each panicked breath.

“What is this?” she gasped, but the arcane trap had a mind of its own. Invisible tendrils of pure magical energy slithered up her thighs, pushing her robes aside. They felt like warm, slick tongues against her skin. One tendril found the soaked fabric of her panties, rubbing insistently over her pussy lips through the material. Elara moaned, her back arching against her will.

The magic didn’t ask. It explored. A thick, pulsing tendril of energy pressed against her entrance, teasing her dripping slit. It didn’t penetrate, just rubbed that swollen clit with a maddening rhythm. “F-fuck,” she whimpered, her nipples hardening into tight peaks against the cool dungeon air.

Another tendril, thinner and more agile, wormed its way into the top of her robes. It circled one areola, then the other, before pinching and rolling her nipples. The sensation was electric—a direct line to her core. Her cunt clenched around nothing, aching to be filled.

The main tendril at her pussy finally pushed her panties aside. The magical energy solidified into something resembling a thick, veiny cock, glistening with her own juices. It rubbed its broad head up and down her slit, coating itself in