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hazbinfallinginaspiral · 3 days

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Antique Beauty (Be A Doll Oneshot)

Not canon to the AU! Anyway.

CW: Manipulation, mind control, disassociation, loss of sense of self, delusions, lover obsession, mental breakdowns, Vox being Vox, AU typical events

I think that’s all. Let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: Vox finds an antique doll that is strikingly similar to you, so he buys it and gives it to you as a gift. You see this as an oddly touching gesture, and make it a point to keep the doll around or nearby at nearly all hours of the day, to show your appreciation. This new toy has an unforeseen impact, though. As time goes on, Vox continues to use the trigger phrase on you, and you begin to lose touch with reality. You see yourself as a literal doll, just like the one he got you, and you begin to act as such.

In the heart of Pentagram City, amidst the hustle and bustle of the demon-filled streets, Vox found himself wandering through the labyrinthine aisles of an antique shop. His crimson eyes gleamed with interest as he perused the eclectic collection of curiosities, searching for the perfect gift for you, his significant other.

His gaze landed on a striking antique doll, its porcelain features delicately painted and its attire reminiscent of a bygone era. What caught Vox's attention, however, was the uncanny resemblance the doll bore to you. The same delicate features, the same captivating gaze—it was as if the doll had been crafted in your image.

While Vox usually hated anything that was too reminiscent of the past, he was willing to make an exception for you. He preferred change, and didn’t like to linger on the past nor anything made during the time, he’d rather focus on the present or the future. But, this doll was exactly like you, in practically every sense. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get his favorite doll a doll that looked exactly like them.

Without hesitation, Vox purchased the doll, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he imagined your reaction. With the doll cradled in his arms, Vox made his way back to the sleek confines of his penthouse apartment, anticipation bubbling within him like a dormant volcano awaiting eruption.

As he entered the opulent living space, Vox was greeted by the sight of you, engrossed in a book by the flickering light of a nearby candle. There were plenty of lights, windows, and far more reasonable ways to read, but for some reason, this is what you preferred. Vox vaguely rembered you mentioning your love of simpler things like candles, gardening, crafting, and writing poetry. He thought it was somewhat trivial, especially when it wasn’t even necessary. Why would you do something like grow your own flowers when you could just buy some? It made no sense to him. He thought the time could be better spent working or inventing or doing something to do with change. Your preference for this seemed too repetitive and stagnant for him, too quiet and simple. He didn’t like it, but he was willing to indulge you. You were his favorite doll, after all. Your eyes flicked up to glance at him, curiosity evident.

“Darling,” Vox purred, his tinged with excitement as it echoed through the spacious room, “I have a surprise for you.”

Your eyes brightened with even more curiosity as you regarded Vox with a quizzical expression. “A surprise?” You echoed, setting the book aside and rising to your feet to meet Vox’s gaze.

With a flourish, Vox presented the doll to you, a mischievous twinkle dancing in his eyes. “Ta-da! For you, my doll,” he declared, with a grin. He looked rather proud of himself.

Your breath caught in your throat as you beheld the doll, your eyes widening in astonishment. Its porcelain features bore a striking resemblance to your own, a doll that bore an uncanny resemblance to you? Anyone else would have been unsettled, but you weren’t. In fact, you were oddly touched by the gesture.

Its porcelain visage was strikingly similar to yours, from the gentle curve of the cheeks to the arch of the eyebrows. Dressed in a vintage gown of satin and lace, the doll exuded an aura of elegance and charm that seemed to captivate you. From the hair to the eyes to the soft curve of the lips, you were enchanted by it. You reached out a hand to touch its delicate cheek, a sense of wonder washing over you like a tidal wave.

“Oh, Vox,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “it’s… it’s beautiful.”

Vox beamed with pride at your reaction, his chest swelling with a sense of satisfaction. “I’m glad you like it, doll,” he said softly.

You smiled and gave him a hug, then a kiss on the cheek. “I love it! I love you,” you said with a grin. You sat back down on the couch and went back to looking at the doll, still in awe.

As you continued to admire the doll, Vox couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth wash over him. It was a small gesture, perhaps, but one that spoke volumes of his affection for you. Or, rather, what he thought to be affection. It was a twisted sort, really. He thought of you as his very own little doll, just like the one he’d just gifted you, except you were alive. He enjoyed playing with you, pulling your strings, puppeting you around… he loved you, yes, but in the same way a child loves their toys. He’d be careful to never let you break, though. He cared for you too much for that- he didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he lost his favorite little doll. As he watched you admire the antique doll he’d just gifted you, he knew he’d made the right choice. It was the perfect thing to placate you, keep you distracted and happy for the time being.

It started innocently enough, with Vox using his hypnotic abilities on you during mundane tasks. "Be a doll," he would murmur softly, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down your spine. And with each command, your movements became more fluid, more doll-like, as if you were a marionette dancing to Vox's tune. You’d seek solace in the antique doll he’d gifted you, a reminder that he wasn’t all that cruel, but a doll couldn’t fix everything.

As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, you found yourself ensnared in a web of Vox's making, each passing moment pulling them deeper into the labyrinth of his desires.

You’d be reading with Vox in his study, surrounded by shelves full of books. Quietly reading, happy and content. Vox would lean back in his seat, a smirk on his face. “Be a doll and get me that book on the top shelf,” he’d say, smug. Your eyes would glaze over as you rose from your seat, moving with a sort of fluid grace as you wordlessly get the book and give it to Vox. He’d smile and give you a kiss. “You truly are an obedient little doll.”

It didn’t matter where you were.

It could be late at night, both of you in Vox’s bedroom, Vox in bed and you only just walking in. “Be a doll and come here,” he’d say with a predatory smile and low but commanding voice. You’d falter for a moment then obey, crossing the room to stand in front of him. He’d point to the floor and you’d sink to your knees, at his feet, staring up at him helplessly. “Such a good little doll, always eager to please,” he’d say, running his fingers through your hair.

It could easily happen in public, too.

You’d be attending a lavish gala, Vox standing out in his striking tailored suit, you at his side, fidgeting nervously. He’d lean in close and whisper in your ear, “Be a doll and smile for our guests, won’t you?” And your lips would twitch into a forced smile, your expression wooden and devoid of any true emotion as you plaster on a facade of cheerfulness. “That’s it, doll. Show everyone how much of a nice, obedient little thing you are for me,” he’d say, tightening his grip on your arm. “Show them you belong to me.”

The doll couldn’t stop Vox, but it provided a source of comfort. It was a reminder of how nice he could be.

Your fondness for the doll only seemed to grow. You began to carry it with you wherever you went, treating it as if it were a cherished companion. Vox would watch with amusement as you start to dress in clothes similar to those worn by the doll, your wardrobe gradually transforming to match its vintage style.

You’d stand before the mirror in your bedroom, clad in a delicate lace dress that hugged your figure. You’d tilt your head to the side, studying your reflection with an unnerving intensity. Slowly, you!d raise their hand to your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with delicate fingertips.

Vox would enter the room, his eyes alight with anticipation as he would observe your movements. "Ah, my doll, you look positively radiant," he’d murmur, his voice smooth as velvet. "Such a beautiful little thing."

You’d turn to him, a serene smile gracing your lips, pleased with yourself for earning his praise. It was usually few and far between. "Thank you, Vox," you’d reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I feel... different, somehow. Like I'm not quite myself anymore."

Vox would step closer, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek. "That's because you're becoming exactly what you were always meant to be," he’d say, his tone almost reverent. "My perfect little doll."

To Vox's delight, your behavior also began to shift. You moved with a grace and poise reminiscent of the doll, your expressions serene and tranquil. It was as if you had become entranced by the doll's presence, adopting its mannerisms and demeanor as your own. Little did he know, it was because as days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, you found yourself slipping further and further into a hazy fog of compliance and confusion. Vox's relentless use of the trigger phrase had begun to take its toll, eroding away at your sense of self with each passing command.

In moments of quiet solitude, you found yourself seeking solace in the antique doll that Vox had gifted you. You would sit for hours, cradling the doll in your arms, its porcelain features a stark reflection of your own. With trembling fingers, you would brush the doll's hair and dress it in delicate finery, whispering words of comfort and affection as if it were a living being. Tonight was one of those nights.

As the world outside grows quiet, you sat alone in the dimly lit room, cradling the antique doll in your arms. You stroked its porcelain face with gentle fingers, your touch reverent and tender.

"I wish I could be like you," you whisper, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "So serene, so perfect. No worries, no fears. Just... blissful ignorance."

Vox enters the room, his eyes dark and hungry as he surveys the scene before him. "You already are like her," he says, his voice almost soft. Almost caring. Almost. "You're my little doll, and nothing could ever change that."

You look up at him, your eyes wide and unblinking, like those of a porcelain doll. "I know, Vox," you reply, your voice hollow and empty. "I belong to you. I’m yours.”

The doll provided more comfort than Vox did.

Sometimes you would even find yourself engaging in childlike play, pretending that the doll could feel and respond to your touch. You would make it laugh and smile, pouring all of your pent-up longing and loneliness into the tiny figure in your hands, hoping against hope that somehow, some way, the doll would bring you the comfort and companionship you so desperately craved.

Alone in your room, you’d sit on the edge of your bed, a sense of unease gnawing at your insides. You’d clutch the antique doll tightly to your chest, seeking solace in its familiar presence. But no matter how hard you’d try, you couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that lingers within you.

Vox's voice echoed in your mind, his command to "be a doll" ringing like a relentless refrain. With each passing day, it became harder to distinguish between reality and illusion, between your own thoughts and Vox's whispered commands.

Tears would stream down your cheeks as you’d clutch the doll tighter, your chest constricted with a suffocating sense of dread. "I can't do this anymore," you’d whisper to yourself, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your own heart.

In a moment of desperation, you’d hurl the doll across the room, watching as it crashes against the wall with a hollow thud. But instead of feeling relief, you’d be overcome with a profound sense of loss, as if a part of yourself had been torn away.

The line between reality and fantasy began to blur for you. You would catch glimpses of yourself in the mirror and see not a person staring back at you, but a doll with glassy eyes and porcelain skin. You would hear Vox's voice echoing in your mind, commanding you to "be a doll" and obey without question.

Alone in your room, you’d sit huddled in the corner, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you’d clutch your head in agony. Images flash before your eyes, fragmented memories twisted and distorted by Vox's relentless influence.

"I can't escape," you’d whisper to yourself, your voice a desperate plea for salvation. But no matter how hard you’d try, you couldn’t break free from the chains that bound you to Vox's will.

In a moment of ‘clarity’, you’d reach out for the antique doll, your fingers trembling as you trace its delicate features. "Help me," you’d whisper, your voice barely audible over the roar of your own despair.

But the doll would remain silent, its glass eyes staring back at you emptily. Offering no comfort. You’d be left alone with the realization that you were stuck in this endless nightmare of your own making, with no escape.

With each passing day, you felt yourself slipping further away from who you once were, lost in a sea of Vox's control and manipulation. And as you gazed into the unblinking eyes of the antique doll, you couldn't help but wonder if you were truly any different. Perhaps, in the end, you were nothing more than Vox's plaything, a doll to be toyed with at his whim.

As time passed, your sense of self seemed to fade away completely, replaced by a serene acceptance of your role as Vox's little doll. You no longer spoke or acted like your former self, your personality and individuality erased by the allure of being a perfect little doll.

No longer did you question Vox's orders or assert your own desires. Instead, you moved through your days with the mechanical precision of a well-oiled machine, your actions dictated by Vox's whims and desires. It was as if you were merely a puppet, dancing on strings pulled by Vox's invisible hand.

And as he watched you, now little more than a porcelain doll come to life, Vox knew that he had finally achieved the ultimate conquest—possession of you, in your entirety.

For Vox, it was a dream come true. With your transformation complete, he felt a sense of absolute control and dominance unlike anything he had experienced before. You had become his perfect, obedient doll, ready to fulfill his every desire without question or hesitation.

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iiflywithmeii · 3 days

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brain is so fucking loud

and i wanna talk to someone

but i’m just a bother

like why am i so fucking annoying

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brokenwingsinlove024 · 1 day

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I lost you because I was selfish, it was all too much. I held you too closely and made you feel trapped. I am so very sorry for hurting you and pushing you away. I know that you love me as much as I love you, love was never our problem. I don’t regret a single second of our “almost” and I never will. You loved me like no one else…like lightening…like magic. I know I have to let you go, I understand why. I will never forget you or stop loving you, you will always be part of my soul. You’ll always have someone, out here in this fucked up world that loves you completely and unconditionally. If you need anything at anytime, I am here…you know how to find me.

I love you…always and forever ♾️💗🪽

#i love you #love #soulmates #wings024 #angel wings #photography #aesthetic #goodbye #i miss you #i’m sorry

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alexturntable · 1 day

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do you guys think Teto saw Antoine post this pic of Charles and was like well guess what

#I’m sorry #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #f1 #formula 1 #mypost

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jesuistrestriste · 1 day

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#AUUUUUGHHHHHHH ??????#holy FUCK!#his fucking arms #i’m sorry #oh lord #oh god #mike faist #challengers movie #mike faist thirst

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messylustt · 7 months

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the hottest thing a man can do is tilt his head and say ‘yeah?’ —like no need to be a slut, calm down.

#i cant—#like fuck #i’m sorry #. ( hollycore )#. ( receipts )

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justaz · 4 months

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country bumpkin merlin not knowing anything about city life and accidentally courting arthur without knowing

merlin, watching gwen give lancelot her favor: why do you do that

gwen, heart eyes at lance and not paying that much attention to the conversation: so he knows i’m rooting for him

merlin, with an Idea: ah.

gwaine, lover of chaos, pisser offer of nobles and royals alike, ultimate wingman: merlin…you have such lonely lips. shall i introduce them to mine?

merlin, unaware of the game gwaine is playing: so you can steal my breath away? i think not, scoundrel

arthur, crushing his goblet in his hand:

merlin: arthur’s been in a bad mood recently :( i should cheer him up

merlin, remembering when arthur was put out when merlin brought morgana flowers and not him: i know just the thing

merlin, bringing a bouquet of carnations, roses, and tulips and setting them on arthur’s table while he’s eating breakfast: good morning, sire

arthur, trained on flower language in hopes that one day when he was to take a queen he could woo her easily, trying not to audibly choke on his sausage as he reads merlin’s declaration of love sitting in front of him:

arthur, who recently found out about merlin’s magic and was trying to find a way to bring it up, catching him in the act and watching merlin panic to explain himself:

merlin, Freaking: and i swear to you arthur, i have only ever used it for you. my magic is yours. my life is yours. i am yours. i would never do anything to harm you. i have protected you for years and will continue to do so at your side if you’ll have me

arthur, already believing them to be courting, desperately trying to figure out if that was a proposal for marriage or not but tired of being confused and deciding fuck it: here.

merlin, taking it: i…uh…huh?

arthur, watching merlin with hawk eyes and trying to figure out what he’s thinking and feeling: it’s my mothers sigil

merlin, confused as FUCK but is focusing on the fact that arthur is handing him something of his mother rather than a death sentence: my…my lord?

arthur, realizing how scared merlin’s must be about him finding out about his magic and trying to comfort him while also proposing, killing two birds with one stone: i will always keep you at my side, merlin, so long as we both shall live. if you’ll allow me.

merlin, almost collapsing with relief and tearing up, smiling at arthur as if he had parted the storm clouds to allow sun to shine down on them in that moment: of course…of course, arthur. always and forever.

merlin, watching the castle staff rush this way and that: wow. this banquet must be incredibly important

sir leon the long suffering, day one ride or die, one of the original merthur shippers: banquet? merlin, this is for your wedding

merlin, overworked and exhausted: my WHAT? to WHO??

leon, regretting everything he’s ever done in his life that led him to this moment: to…arthur?

merlin, over joyed but also absolutely befuddled: i’m getting married to ARTHUR?????

leon: you two have been courting for the past year or so, have you not?

merlin: i’ve been COURTING ARTHUR?????? FOR A YEAR?????????

#merthur #i spent like an hour researching medieval courting rituals to make this #and even then #i did not find much #so if there’s someone out there who is like weirdly knowledgeable about 6th century courting rituals #feel free to add on #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #sir gwaine #sir leon #sir lancelot #guinevere #i literally started this post bc i was thinking about the misunderstanding between merlin and gwen and merlin’s giving arthur his favor #and then i kept going #but i didn’t have much else in the ole noggin to write #i’m sorry #please forgive me

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cinnamontoads · 9 months

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i know they’re having crazy 1999 green tinted dead end job office sex

#the matrix #fight club #i’m sorry #no i’m not

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lest-we-forget-the-lamb · 1 year

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#i’m sorry #hannibal #nbc hannibal #my brain is something else at this point #i’m not saying actually eat people but the idea of cannibalism is inherently romantic #don’t actually eat people #ok?#1k #beetle shells #10k

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yooo-lets-go · 11 months

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Oooh how do Ghost and Soap get together in your stories???

Smooth operator

#bro graduated the rizz university #Rizzward #Rizzford if you will #I’m sorry #call of duty #ghost babygirl #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #soapghost #cod ghost #cod soap #suggestive #?#idk if the british slang is right

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hazbinfallinginaspiral · 3 days

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Vox snippets from old WIPS I never finished

This is specifically a Vox x reader Au of mine that I call ‘Be a Doll’. I’ll explain below but before that, here’s a warning.

CW: Abuse, manipulation, mind control, SA, Rape/Noncon, explicit and graphic sex

Vox is incredibly manipulative, possessive, harsh, and abusive here! He is not a good person in this AU.

This isn’t meant for kids! Anyone who is sensitive to or may have a negative reaction to these topics should stop reading now.

Vox possesses a potent hypnotic ability, manifested through the swirling black and red patterns that engulf the sclera of his left eye. With a mere glance, he can plunge individuals into a trance, rendering them obedient to his will. While this ability is primarily used to assert control over his surroundings and manipulate those around him, Vox has honed it to a fine art, utilizing it with precision and finesse.

One particular application of Vox's hypnotic power is seen in his interactions with his assistants. Through the use of a trigger phrase, "be a doll," coupled with a simple command, Vox can compel his assistants to carry out tasks without question or hesitation. This trigger phrase serves as a direct link to their subconscious, bypassing their conscious will and leaving them unaware of their lack of control- but only if he wants. Sometimes, he enjoys seeing the pain in someone’s eyes as they’re forced to do something they rather wouldn’t do, so sometimes, he leaves them aware of what’s happening and makes sure they know that they’re completely unable to stop it.

Moreover, Vox has extended this hypnotic influence to select individuals in his personal life, including significant others. By implanting the trigger phrase and conditioning them to respond to it, he effectively ensures their compliance and obedience in various situations. This manipulation is subtle yet effective, as those under his influence are often unaware of just how deep this power goes until it’s far too late.

This is the premise of my ‘Be a Doll’ AU. Anyway, the actual snippets from my writing are down below! I’d say to enjoy, but I think ‘experience’ is probably a better descriptor.

- "That's a good girl," Vox purred, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched you comply. "Now, why don't you reach between your legs and spread those pretty pink lips for me? I want to see what kind of slut you are."

- "Be a doll, now," Vox purred as he reached out to take hold of your hips and gently guided you to the edge of the desk. He paused there for a moment, taking in the sight of you spread wide and exposed for him.

- Vox chuckled darkly at your protests, his eyes fixed on the spot between your legs. "That's it, doll," he whispered, his voice taking on a commanding tone. "Just spread those pretty legs for me. You know you want this."

- Vox walked up to you, clearing his throat to get your attention. He placed his hands on the clipboard you were holding, gently moving it out of your way and onto the ground. He leaned in close, a smirk playing on his lips as he whispered the trigger phrase into your ear.

- Vox's face hardened, his voice dropping to a sterner tone. "What do you mean, no? Don't lie to me, doll. You know damn well that this isn't real. You may not enjoy it all the time, but you still consent to it.”

- "Good girl," Vox praised, his thumb brushing against your lips again before he sat on the desk next to you and pulled you into his lap, facing him. "Now," he said smirking down at you. "I want to play a little game.”

- He leaned in, his television-head pressing against your neck, and whispered into your ear. "And I will keep you under my control, as long as it brings me pleasure. Do you understand?"

- Vox's smirk grew as he watched your transformation, the obedience flowing through your actions like water. He took a step closer, his gaze traveling down to your exposed core. His fingers traced the outline of your lips, teasing you with a promise.

- "Good girl," Vox purred, appreciating the change in your demeanor. He took his phone out, recording you as he stepped closer, his hardness pressing against your exposed folds. "Remember, you want this as much as I do, don't you, doll?"

- Vox smirked down at you, pleased with your obedience. "You really are a good girl," he purred, his fingers finding their way inside your folds to tease at your sensitive nerves. "Now, doll, remember what I told you about showing me how much you want it?"

- "You're so perfect, my little slut," he growled, picking up the pace slightly, his cock filling you to the brim as he fucked you senseless. "Your body was made for this, wasn't it?"

- As your moans grew louder, Vox couldn't resist reaching down to grip a handful of your hair, pulling your head back as he continued to thrust into you. "That's it, bitch," he growled, "Be a doll and moan for me."

- "That's my girl," he purred, taking another drag from his cigar before blowing out a thick cloud of smoke. "Now, how about you show me just how much you love being mine? Undress for me, doll."

- "Don't worry, my little doll. You'll do just fine." His words were as soothing as honey dripping from his lips. He bent down and gently grabbed my hair, guiding my face closer to his throbbing cock. "Just take your time."

- "That's my good girl." Vox purred, his eyes roaming over my exposed body. He stepped closer, his hardened length pressing against my stomach. "Now, lie down on the bed and spread your legs wide for me."

- "I see you're thinking," he said, a sneer curling his lips. "That's not allowed, doll. Now, lie down." His voice was cold and commanding, the tone brooking no argument or disobedience.

- "Good girl," Vox hissed as he climbed onto the bed, looming over me. With his free hand, he began to trail lightning-fast fingertips over my body—his touch cold, sharp, and calculated. "Now, spread your legs for Daddy."

- "Don't think, darling. Just enjoy," he murmured, his voice like honey laced with venom. He leaned in close, his cold breath tickling your ear as he trailed his thumb across your cheekbone. "I won't tell you again."

- Chuckling softly, he gave you a reassuring smile. "Of course, my pet. I'm quite skilled in getting what I want, after all." He leaned in closer, his lips grazing against your ear. "And what do I want now, hmm?"

- "Oh, but you were. And I love hearing you say it. But sometimes, even good girls need to be reminded of their place." He stepped closer, crowding your personal space as he trailed his fingers down your chest, stopping just above your breasts.

- "Of course it does, my dear," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's why I'm teaching you your place. You're mine now, to control and possess as I see fit. Now get up here.”

- "Oh, but you are," Vox purred, leaning in close to whisper in your ear. "You're mine now. And I will make sure you remember that." His hand slid back up your thigh, fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.”

- "Such a good girl," he repeated, his voice lowering again. "Are you ready to serve me?" With each word, his sultry gaze bored deeper into yours, as if he could see straight through your soul.

- Vox's eyes raked down your body, lingering particularly on your pussy, which was already getting wet. He smirked, clearly pleased with his effect on you. "I love the way you respond to me, even when you're not under my control."

- "You love me, doll?" He sneered, his grip on your chin tightening. "Then open your mouth." He pulled out a vial and held it to your lips, forcing you to take a sip.

- Vox smiled, pleased with his handiwork. The liquid he had given you was a powerful aphrodisiac that heightened your senses and increased your desire for him. It also made you more pliant to his every command, giving him even more control over you.

- Vox continued his assault on your senses, his kisses growing more demanding and possessive. His hand left your breast momentarily before sliding downwards, teasingly skimming over your flat stomach and finally coming to rest on the soft flesh of your thigh.

- Watching you obey his commands, Vox felt a rush of power. He loved being in control and seeing you under his spell was beyond arousing. As you touched yourself, he felt a surge of electricity run through him, his eyes growing darker with desire.

- Vox watched with an unreadable expression, his hand moving to cup your breast through the thin fabric of your top. His fingers traced circles around your hardened nipple, pulling slightly as he used you to fulfill his own desires. "You know what I want.”

- "Good girl," Vox purred, watching you please yourself once more. His eyes were hungry, and he could feel his erection growing harder with each passing moment. He was going to fuck you so good. "Such a good, obedient girl."

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