There’s only one six-letter word that makes you drop this hard.
And something about me, wielding it with my legs spread, the satin of my panties shining, feeling lust and confusion, feeling yourself get mentally fucked with the power of the word.
You know you shouldn’t - that’s part of what’s so hot.
The kinky web I spin holds you hostage, tight in my grip, each word taking you deeper than the last. The cadence, the repetition, pummeling you further into subspace.
You can practically taste cock every time I say it, you physically salivate with desire, having it drilled into you, fucking you, molding you, reprogramming you, isn’t that right, faggot?