Felicia could only pant, exhausted from the long, brutal assfuck by her master.  Sweat matting her hair and fine fur she could barely move from the spot with Sora’s prickly prick still buried into the catgirl’s cum-drenched pussy.  When she regained her breath she meekly replied to her master’s prodding question.  “Not to…talk unless ordered to?” she gulped, not sure if she answered correctly.  For Felicia is no thinker, that’s Sora’s forte.  She is just in for it to please and to be pleased.  Her body tensed, anticipating the possible chastisement she might get from Sora.  This caused her folds to involuntarily tighten on the sorcerer’s cock, making her to slightly grimace in discomfort.