The gilded pillar was blown apart, massive chunks Hardcore missing, and much of it melting away under the intense heat of the demoness' magic. But before James' eyes, the Temple began to repair itself. He stared as the pillar reformed. Within seconds, it was as if nothing had even happened. Lilith closed her eyes and sighed. "I have torn this place apart a thousand times, only to watch it rebuild itself immediately. I have flown in every direction voyeur until my wings bled, and gone nowhere. I have screamed and cried until Ishtar herself silenced me. I have starved myself until gay she brought her wrath down upon me, forcing me to continue my role as her slave. I… I've killed myself a hundred times, James. I just wake up on that fucking throne, every time." Lilith trembled, anger and despair welling up within her. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself, opened her eyes, and looked up at her agent. "I've given up hope, James. I won't tell you to do the same, but please… please, promise me bear you won't try anything that will get you killed." James sat back down next to his mistress. "I don't know that I can just accept this without fighting back, Lilith. You showed me that vision; you showed me how Ishtar hurt you, stole you away, and destroyed your home. Why show me that if you didn't want me to fight?" Sitting face to face, Lilith looked deep anal into James' eyes and spoke from her heart. "Because I love you. I haven't felt this way about anyone since I was human… I showed you my memory of that fateful day because I'm tired of lying. I want to be honest with someone for once. I don't want you to fight, because I don't know that I could live without you." A tear rolled down Lilith's cheek. "Lilith…" he began sadly, "You'll have to live without me someday. “God Hardcore mom,” her son groans as she ground on him. “And why would I do that?” I said with the biggest shit-eating grin on my face. The Bash voyeur Brothers found him, and no one else ever did. Several heavily muscled young men in tight gold short shorts worked behind the bar while two or three more effeminate young men in high heels, black mesh stockings and corsets acted as “waitresses.” One of the waitresses– her name tag said Marti– came over to the table. Quietly giggling. I stand up to anal shake her hand and she swats it away and gives me a huge hug. I spot her sitting by herself. Margaret is holding her sound, as instructed, but more out of the total terror of being caught. “oh my fucking god you gay guys” She squealed as we pumped her deep and hard. I’ve just got a couple of additions to make." “I was beginning to miss you as well..” “Don’t bear get any ideas, I’m still going to be the one doing the pitching,” she smirks.