Syndra loved power.
She could get drunk off the feeling of being in control, of being feared by others. It was an addiction, and she found herself always wanting more and more. Luckily for her, her power was growing, limitless in potential.
Power was all she knew. Power was all she had.
And power she used to get her way.
"On your hands and knees."
Syndra circles her naked slave, a leather whip in hand, high heels clicking on the cool tile floor of her palace. Normally she didn't need to wear shoes, normally she floats a meter above the ground.
Today, however, was anything but a normal day.
No, today was her anniversary with Fiora Laurent, and Fiora's been a very, very naughty girl.
She thinks Syndra doesn't know. A foolish thought.
Fiora obliges to Syndra's request—no, demand—as to not anger the sovereign. She's learned her lesson more than enough times. Fiora bows her head submissively, not daring to look at Syndra's face, lest she get punished like last time. Her lips gingerly press themselves against Syndra's feet when she stops in front of her, when they grace her vision with their presence.
Syndra smirks at this.
Yes, power was hers to command, and so was Fiora.
"Well, well, what have we here?" she coos, kneeling down to the other woman's level, and Fiora averts her gaze even from her feet. "Are you ready for more training?" Syndra asks, toying with the whip in her hand.
Fiora nods her head ever so slightly.
A loud crack resonates through the palace as Syndra lashes out with the whip, and Fiora flinches. "Speak when you're spoken to," Syndra snaps. She will not be disrespected like this, especially not by some lowly slave.
"Yes, mistress."
These words please Syndra, and she almost smiles (almost).
"I hope you're ready, because I have something special planned for you today, provided that you're a good girl."
She tilts Fiora's head up by her chin, so that the Demacian woman would look into her eyes.
Which she doesn't. She's learned from last time to not make eye contact with her, not when they're role playing.
Good.
Syndra rewards this by suddenly thrusting her fingers into Fiora, who lets out a throaty moan.
Gods, that was hot. Syndra couldn't wait to hear more.
"Because I'm feeling generous," she began, pulling her fingers out before pushing them back in, "you get to cum today, but only when I tell you to." This time, Syndra drives herself deeper into Fiora to further exemplify her point. "Only when I tell you to," she repeated, a warning.
In. Out. In. Out.
Fiora nods frantically in understanding as Syndra begins playing with her clit, the Demacian already dripping wet. Typically, Syndra would punish her for staining the floors with her juices, but elected to ignore it today.
After all, it was a special day for the both of them. After all, there was plenty of time to punish her for it later, if Syndra felt like it.
Syndra leans down and takes a firm breast in her free hand, squeezing it roughly. Fiora bites down on her bottom lip as her lover plays with her tit, teasing and tweaking her nipple.
"Lay down on your back and spread your legs," Syndra commands, and Fiora does.
The Ionian lays down on her stomach, moving between Fiora's open legs.
Syndra eats like she was presented with a buffet (which Fiora might as well be).
The Demacian refrains from grabbing at Syndra's hair, lest she be punished for touching her mistress without permission. Fiora can't stop herself from shuddering every time Syndra's tongue presses against her clitoris.
Which happens a lot. Totally not on purpose, though. She was totally not doing that just to see Fiora squirm under her control, helpless to the mage's ministrations.
Syndra moves away from Fiora's cunt and moves to give Fiora a sloppy kiss on the lips, her mouth still covered in the other's love juices.
"Cum for me," she whispers as her lips part from Fiora's, and she does.
Fiora cries out in ecstasy, scream echoing through the empty palace, her toes curling and back arching as pleasure spread across her body for a solid seven seconds.
She lays there for a few seconds, still save for her chest rising and falling rapidly as she recovers from her orgasm.
Syndra seats herself beside Fiora's prone figure, gently tucking a strand of hair behind Fiora's ear and kissing her on the forehead.
"How was that?" Syndra asks, heart pounding in her ears.
"Beyond perfect," Fiora breathes back, out of breath.
And this makes Syndra smile.
Yes, because Syndra loved power more than anything else in the world, except for Fiora.