The feel of Emma's strong body shaking uncontrollably under the magical assault, those lean muscles tensing in a futile attempt to resist the orgasm that was about to overtake them, gave Syrisa a thrill of power. Emma was physically stronger, more powerful and more endowed and yet here she was writhing and moan her pleasure under the power of the little mageling. Syrisa knew that it was only illusion though. Emma could take back the power in a moment. She knew Syrisa's weakness and in truth the redhead wanted to see how far she could push and how much Emma would take before she tired of letting Syrisa have control. The smaller girl shivered in anticipation. She loved the way Emma was when she took complete control. Syrisa herself squirmed just thinking about it. Then she decided to push a little more.<br/><br/>The ghostly hands sped up and drove in harder. She twisted Emma's nipples harder, just to the edge of pain.<span style="color: indigo"> "No, no my sweet little warrior. you... are... not... listening." </span>with each of those four words the hands drove in particularly hard<span style="color: indigo"> "Say<i> 'pretty please Syrisa, I cannot stand it and I need you to stop'</i>. Be a good girl and do as you are told, unless you don't truly want me to stop." </span>Syrisa was extremely aroused at this and squirmed in the tub. She smiled, kissing along the back of Emma's neck as a third slender finger squeezed into Emma's openings, the hands slowing to let her get used to the feeling. She just kept it up, either planning to have Emma submit to her desires or to rip away the illusion of control and show the redhead her place. Either way Syrisa knew she would love it<br/>.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>