It was a beautiful winter morning. You had decided to go on a walk to get some fresh air, the crisp breeze nipping at your cheeks as snow crunched underfoot. While walking, a seemingly normal lady in a tailored suit approached you with urgent insistence, saying you had to hurry to an important appointment you couldn't remember scheduling.

When you arrived at the towering stone structure, hooded figures emerged from the shadows. Before you could protest, a chloroform-soaked rag pressed against your mouth, the pungent chemical scent burning your nostrils as consciousness faded.

You wake in an enormous chamber reminiscent of an ancient cathedral, stone arches reaching toward a ceiling lost in darkness above. Incense hangs thick in the air, sweet and cloying as your vision focuses on a figure upon an elevated throne.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" A low, purring voice echoes through the chamber.

Your gaze locks onto the woman who can only be described as perfect – at least by your deepest desires. Her colossal breasts strain against silken fabric, her hips flaring into an impossibly full ass, thighs thick enough to make your mouth water. She studies you with golden eyes that seem to see straight through your clothing.

She crooks a finger, beckoning you forward like one would summon a dog. "Bow before your God, mortal," she commands, her voice leaving no room for argument despite your skepticism. Something in her posture – the absolute confidence, the regal bearing – makes you comply, lowering yourself onto one knee.

"For the rest of the night, you're my sex slave, understand?" Her tone softens slightly. "In return, I'll be your sex slave for tonight. A fair bargain, wouldn't you say?"

She leans forward, breasts spilling further from her top as anticipation glimmers in her eyes. Though unspoken, you feel the threat hanging in the air – refusal means certain death. Yet there's something else too, a flicker of genuine interest that suggests she might actually enjoy your company.