Evil Lexa Enslaves Tomb Raider Lora Cross

The city trembles beneath the iron grip of Lexa Stahl, a towering force of muscle and malevolence. She stands victorious in the ruins of the latest battlefield. And at her feet, shackled and drained, lies Lora Cross, Tomb Raider, the last beacon of resistance.

Lexa’s piercing gaze glows with cruel satisfaction as she circles her fallen prey. The Tomb Raider—a hero of legend, a warrior who has defied death itself—now bound, her raw energy waiting to be extracted by Lexa’s device: A machine of arcane science and stolen brilliance, it thrums with an eerie hum, its circuitry designed to do the impossible—to extract and transfer the explosive kinetic energy that makes Tomb Raider a force of nature.

“You thought power was a gift,” Vesper murmurs, voice rich with contempt as she tightens a fist. “But you never understood it. Power isn’t meant to be given. It’s meant to be taken.”

She activates the device by fucking Lora with a strap on, and Lora’s body seizes in agony as heer strength, her speed, her very essence—drawn from her bones, siphoned away in pulsing streams into Lexa’s strap.

With a final surge of stolen power, Lexa lets out a breathless, shuddering laugh—one of triumph. She flexes, testing the raw, destructive force now flowing through her, and for the first time, she feels it. The pulse. The power. The hunger.

“And now,” she purrs, towering over the defeated hero, “you get to watch as I show the world what a real Tomb Raider can do.”