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Seems like Zecora’s summoning has pulled something from the other side.
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As Zecora’s incantation reached its crescendo, the glowing circle pulsed with blinding intensity. Suddenly, slick mauve tendrils erupted from the ground, writhing and twisting in the air. The zebra’s eyes snapped open, her stoic demeanor faltering as the tentacles brushed against her striped coat.
“By the spirits, what manner of beast have I brought forth?” Zecora gasped, her usual rhyming speech patterns momentarily forgotten as the tentacles explored her form. They slithered across her lean flanks, leaving trails of tingling warmth in their wake. One particularly bold appendage curled around her breast, its grip firm yet not constricting.
Zecora shuddered, her breath coming in short pants as the tentacles continued their sensual assault. “This summoning has taken quite the turn, a lesson about control I now must learn,” she muttered, her voice husky with a mix of apprehension and arousal. The tendrils seemed to respond to her words, their movements becoming more purposeful, more intimate. They caressed her inner thighs, the slick surface creating a delicious friction against her sensitive skin.