**Posh London Mistress.******I’m going to mentally disfigure you****My voice hits you like a rush, a code that hacks your brain. Cut glass posh London. Expensive filth. Slow. Precise. Contempt in every syllable. That cock leaks before you’ve earned a word. Wicked humour. A filthy, decadent laugh that ruins you mid stroke. I don’t raise my voice. I install myself. I talk until you’re stupid. I talk until you’re blank.One session and you’ll be gooning to the sound of me, locked, dripping, crawling back because that accent is already running in your head. Brainwashed. Blank. Hard for all the wrong [more]
