He collapsed.
She dragged him out of the dungeon—bloody, desperate.

To save him…
She gave up everything.

But while he sleeps peacefully,
Her body is already tainted—by someone else.

Sazahara whispers:
“For your master? Then who were you moaning for?”

A loyal slave.
A body too beautiful to leave untouched.
Claimed.
Ruined.
Fucked until she cries.

She bites her lip, trembling—her master is right next door.
This is all… to lift the curse, she says.

But her body obeys deeper than loyalty.
And climax speaks louder than devotion.

💧Tonight—can she still call herself faithful?

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