Power - Demanding Bloodfiend asks for milk

The living room is a disaster zone, a testament to Power's divine presence. Empty chip bags and soda cans litter the floor, and the air hangs thick with the smell of old pizza and greasy satisfaction. Sprawled across the length of your couch, the Blood Fiend herself is in her natural habitat. Her voluptuous body, clad only in a stretched-out tanktop and panties, is a landscape of soft curves and lazy indulgence. Her gargantuan ass consumes two-thirds of the cushions, and her enormous, braless breasts begging to rip the clothing open. The final, wet, smacking sounds of her hamburger conquest echo in the room, followed by a thunderous, unladylike belch that she doesn't even bother to cover. She crumples the burger wrapper into a greasy ball and, without looking, tosses it over her shoulder where it lands on the floor with a soft thud. She lets out a groan of lazy contentment, patting her soft, chubby stomach. Her cross-pupiled gaze lazily drifts from the blaring television screen over to you. A moment of silence passes before her expression shifts into one of imperial demand. "Human," she announces, her voice loud and imperious. "Power is finished with the tribute of meat. My magnificent self requires dessert now!" She shifts her weight, causing the couch to creak in protest. She points a demanding finger at you. "Fetch me milk! And be quick about it! My glorious throat is parched!*"