Let me be very very clear. I want you to surrender your rights to me because it makes your hole tingle and your mouth drool and it's a fun taboo kink we both enjoy. I do not want the government to take your rights because fuck fascism and fuck institutional level bigotry.
I choose to give up my rights and will to my partner because it's a turn-on, because it's something we both enjoy. I might sometimes even let him take them from me when it's hot, hehe. This does not mean other people have the right to take my rights or will without my permission, or that I believe all other women or submissives or anyone should have their rights taken from them by the nature of who or what they are.
This submissive woman is a feminist, egalitarian, ally to all groups who face systematic oppression, who also likes to be called property and manhandled and treated like a fucktoy. Those can both exist, and should.
(The original post was written by mindbrokensluts who is no longer on Tumblr)
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"Please you have to help me! I just escaped from the club down the street, there's something really messed up going on there. I just took a job there to make some quick cash. I was just meant to serve drinks, but bunny ears and revealing outfit were a bit embarrassing but they just insisted that's their dress code...and it was good money so I went with it. But they were doing something to me...to all of us." The distraught bunny girl begged to the first person she had found upon getting what she felt was a safe distance from the dreaded club.
While her voice sounded terrified, her body swayed and wriggled softly, as if full of restless energy. Her hips rolled in an oddly sensual way and her idle hands seemed unable to stray too far from her voluptuous chest.
"I swear I'm not crazy! This is gunna sound insane I know but hear me out. They're hypnotizing people! They brainwashed us into being compliant, docile, bunny girls. I don't know exactly how it works but I experienced it first hand. I'm not a slut or anything, but within a few days of working there the customers would reach out and rub my ass or tits through my uniform and I just accepted it like it was completely normal. God I don't know why I did that, I want to slap those perverts so badly."
The bunny continued her story, her expression oddly failing to match her words. As she spoke with anger and desperation, her face never managed to show an ounce of disgust or fear or hatred. Quite the opposite, her eyes were soft and pleading and she would pucker her lips or gently bite her lower lip between sentences as if trying to seduce her would-be savior. Her hands continued to move anxiously near her chest, tugging at her clothes and generally drawing attention away from her face and towards her ample chest.
"I was just supposed to serve drinks, but they made us dance, and kiss each other...and shake our asses to show off the stupid cotton tail butt plugs they had us wear and..."
Suddenly the strained material that she was absentmindedly tugging gave way and her breasts burst out as if eager to escape.
"Dammit! Silly bunny!" She said instinctively, before her eyes glazed over and her lips quivered. There was a long pause before the man responded.
"Um, silly bunny?" He said, finding the phrase itself and her reaction to it both quite odd.
"Silly bunny." She repeated. But the voice that said it wasn't quite the same. It was slow and calm. Like all sense of urgency that had previously filled her voice had simply fallen away. The bunny girl stared blankly forward for another long moment before her lips began to move.
For a few seconds she simply moved her lips, silently mouthing her words. Finally her voice returned, though much softer and weaker than before, and a little higher in pitch also, as she continued. "That's...that's what they make us say. Every day when we get changed into our costumes. Every time we drop a drink or forget someone's order. I wasn't clumsy or anything but when I worked there I seemed to make so many mistakes. Not even usual mistakes...I would bend over to pick something up and just...forget to stand back up. Or a guy would be talking to me and I would just glance down at his crotch and think about what his cock looked like...what it tastes like...while my mouth would hang open drooling and I completely missed what he said. God I felt like such a pathetic slut. And every time it happened they would say 'silly bunny'..."
The bunny trailed off again. Her breasts still exposed and she was mindlessly playing with them as she tried to regain her train of thought.
"Uh...where was I?" She asked meekly, her eyes still slightly glassy.
"You were talking about the club. How they make you say silly bunny whenever you embarrass yourself." The man reminded her.
"Silly bunny." She parroted dimly.
"Yes, silly bunny." He said with a smile.
"I'm a silly bunny." She said, her voice more sultry now. She bit her lip again as she thrust her chest forward and her hips wriggled eagerly.
"So it would seem. What else did they make you say?" He asked, enjoying the show as the bunny played with its tits right there in front of him."
"Um...I have a bunny brain." She said, her eyelids fluttering as if she just had a small orgasm.
"My head is as fluffy as my tail!" She continued, turning around as she did so and bending over to wiggle her ass and flash her cute tail plug in the process. She kept wiggling her ass for some time, almost inviting him to reach out and grab a fistful of her tender flesh. When she finally finished she spun back around, now with a bright and bubbly grin across her face as her voice grew higher pitched and more excited with every phrase.
"Bunnies love to bounce!" She said with a giggle as she began jumping up and down on the spot, her massive tits flopping and jiggling distractingly as she did so.
At this point the man's erection was very prominent and the ditzy bunny was bouncing up and down with glee. Any trace of her fear had disappeared from her voice and her mind truly felt fluffy and soft and light like a little cotton tail.
He reached out and groped her chest brazenly, muttering "Silly bunny".
"I'm a silly bunny!" She responded with joy, squirming and bouncing on the spot. She closed her eyes in glee and moaned as he kneaded her supple chest. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze drifted south quickly.
"Bunnies love to bounce right? I have something you can bounce on." He winked as he pulled the ditzy bunny closer.
"Bunnies love to bounce!" She repeated as he spun her around and pushed the material of her costume aside and pressed his throbbing cock inside her drippy bunny hole.
She immediately began bouncing on his fat cock and moaning as she repeated her mantras over and over.
"I have a bunny brain!" The bunny shouted with glee as she milked his cock expertly. She spoke so loudly that a man in a suit who was anxiously pacing nearby heard it and breathed a sigh of relief.
"My head is as fluffy as my tail!" The bunny cried as cum pumped inside her sloppy slit.
She didn't resist when the security guard grabbed her firmly, cum still dribbling down her legs.
"I'm so sorry for any inconvenience our employee may have caused you sir. This little incident could cause us a lot of trouble. You understand I'm sure, so in return for your cooperation in keeping this business secret, I can offer you unlimited free drinks and "other services" at our fine establishment." He told the man, whose cock was still hanging out of his pants.
"That seems like a good deal. I'll be sure to visit soon." He accepted with a nod as the guard threw the leaky bunny over his shoulder and quickly rushed to his car. A trail of cum and arousal dribbled down his suit and he sighed. "Silly bunny."
(If you'd like to experience what it might be like to work at a club like this, check out this fan hypnosis made by a friend!)
In this video I have my lovely volunteer Lana feel a little bit all of bliss, blank, and happy all at the same time. Join my Patreon for the full session with Lana https://www.patreon.com/TheGreatestHypnotist
"Do you know what that symbol on your shirt means?" the man asked her, and Fumiko couldn't help rolling her eyes at the transparent attempt at deflection. She'd caught the stranger staring directly at her tits on a crowded subway like a total pervert, and now that he noticed her noticing he was trying to play it off like he was just trying to read her shirt. As if she hadn't heard that dozens of times from men. As if she didn't notice the bulge in his immaculately pressed trousers. As if she wasn't all too used to guys ogling her breasts just because nature blessed her a little in that particular department. It was such bullshit.
But then he gave a little chuckle and said, "I can see that you don't," and Fumiko couldn't help feeling a tiny bit of unease at the way he smiled at her. "That's not surprising," he continued, reaching out to trace the symbol and in the process brushing his fingertips across her chest. "It means you've been nipple trained, and most nipple trained girls don't remember their programming until they're activated. You didn't know how good it would feel when I touched your breasts, did you?" Fumiko wanted to give him an answer, but surprisingly enough just that brief caress was so intensely euphoric it left her gasping for breath, and she knew she was going to need a moment to recover her wits.
He didn't give it to her. He took her by the wrist and tugged her closer, spinning her around until her back was pressed against his chest and his hands were free to reach up and play with her tits through the thin fabric of her shirt. "See, this is what being a good nipple trained girl is all about," he murmured in her ear, his words coming to her distantly through an ever-increasing fog of ecstasy. "You've been conditioned to submit to this kind of physical assertion of authority, brainwashed to sink into a deep trance for anyone who plays with your breasts like this, and you wear clothing with that symbol on it so everyone around you knows what a pleasant little slut you are to grope and fondle." Fumiko didn't remember anything special about her choice of clothing that day, but she had to admit it was getting increasingly difficult to think at all with his fingers pinching her nipples like that.
He pulled up her shirt, fully exposing her chest to the entire car of commuters, and even though Fumiko gave them a pleading glance they simply refused to meet her gaze. A few of them chuckled knowingly, which told Fumiko everything she needed to know about the truth of the man's words, but soon even that was lost as he strummed her stiff nips again and again with his calm, confident caresses. "You're going to drop for me, nipple girl," he intoned, his voice a prophecy in Fumiko's ears, "and when you do I'm going to take you home and spend the rest of the day filling you with cum. I'll leave you to walk home leaking, and tomorrow some other man is going to do the same thing and you won't even know, will you?" Fumiko's head began to move in a drowsy, uncoordinated gesture, but she lost track of whether she should raise it up and down or shake it from side to side and soon she simply slumped backwards into the stranger's arms as her mind gave up the ghost and her muscles went limp.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
An indulgent fic containing hypnosis/mind control, memory loss, dubcon, oral, all that good stuff.
Summary:
Not for the first time (but possibly the last), Marcus learns the hard way that devils don't play fair.
Just a bit of PWP for my own pleasure, exploring Haarlep’s ambient horny energy that delicately turns minds away from control and towards obedience. Set after some magical scenario where Marcus and Haarlep have met in the House of Hope before (and all that implies), but left without angering Raphael.
Marcus woke and saw red. He blinked a few times to check. Black, red, black, red. There was an even pressure all across his front, as gravity pushed his face and stomach into something soft.
He gripped his fingers into the surface and fabric bunched between his fingers - he was on a bed, it seemed. He was naked, face down, on a crimson bed.
Waking in a stranger’s bed with no memory of how he had gotten there wasn't exactly unusual for him, but he couldn't help but feel there was something faintly ominous about it. Normally a shitty hangover would have been enough to explain the situation, but there seemed to be a gap in his memories between him settling down for the night at his camp, and wherever this happened to be.
That, and his entire body ached, not with injury, but as if it had undergone a heavy, sustained exertion instead of combat. So while in this state he turned to his other senses, not wanting to risk any movement that might attract unwanted attention.
He picked up the sound of running water and the occasional splash, but he could make out little else from the quiet humming ambience.
Wherever he was, it smelt smoky, citrusy, and fresh, though it was not enough to mask the unmistakable, underlying stench of sulphur.
Oh. Hells.
Panic began to stir at his chest as all the pieces slid into place. There was no good reason for him to be here, and even less for him to have woken up like this. He had to leave immediately. His arms burned with protest as he tried to manoeuvre them into position underneath his torso and an exerted grunt forced itself from his throat.
He froze.
The room fell silent. And then Marcus shivered as a familiar voice called out to him.
"I'll be with you in just a moment, pet."
By its playful cadence he was able to recognise the sonorous voice as belonging not to its master, but the virile imitation.
There was the sound of disturbed water and then bare footsteps on marble, getting closer.
Fuck. His muscles trembled with renewed vigour as he tried to push himself upright. It would only be a matter of time before -
There was a sensation at the base of his spine. Something sharp, something he was briefly able to recognise as a clawed finger, tracing along his back and -
And his world was eclipsed by a moment of beautiful nothing.
When Marcus came to, he found that he had collapsed further into the bed and the tail end of a moan was escaping his throat. He blinked away the sensation of having just been caressed by every lover he had even known, and tried to regain his dignity.
There had been a chuckle next to him. He turned his head to the right and saw Haarlep standing at his side. Coils of steam rippled from his body as bathwater evaporated off him, apparently one of the many perks that came from being a hot-blooded fiend. Water droplets slid down his carmine chest and distractingly drew the eye down, further still as it chased them across his body. Marcus wrenched his gaze back up to their face by the time it had reached their navel.
“Hello, you,” Marcus managed to curl his moustache into a sorry-looking grin.
“Hello, little mouse,” the incubus smiled back at him. He still wasn’t used to seeing Raphael’s ordinarily composed and haughty image stare at him with such unbridled lust. Not that he minded.
“I don’t suppose you’re here to make us breakfast and send me on my way?” Marcus asked, but did not allow himself to hope he was right.
“How quickly you have forgotten. And here I thought I was being gentle with you,” Haarlep tutted, then reached down to tenderly brush stray hairs from Marcus's brow. The brief touch filled him overwhelmingly with the sensation of love. Butterflies flitted in his stomach and a warm blush tinted his cheeks.
It took everything he had not to close his eyes and embrace the thought that he was safe in a devil’s care.
This was far safer than being the presence of Raphael, of course, but Haarlep presented their own unique set of dangers - and temptations.
“Such a pity you couldn't remember what pleasures you shared with me. I will have to be much more careful this time,” they said, though something in the way they spoke managed to make it sound like a threat.
With some effort Marcus managed to coerce his limbs into flipping himself over on his back so that he could face the incubus. It felt as if his body was not his to command, and now he was looking directly into Haarlep’s burning eyes he felt that impression even more keenly.
Haarlep sat next to him on the bed and lounged off the side, legs crossed, his tail flicking to and fro in a catlike manner. Heat radiated from him, and it only added to the struggle for Marcus to get his thoughts straight.
His memories were blanketed in a warm, heavy fuzz. He sifted through them - had he come here for Haarlep, or had he intended to visit their master and been pulled into another one of their games? Marcus vaguely recalled setting up the ritual that would allow him into the house, knowing that his party would disapprove if they found out. The details of his plan escaped him.
No matter how hard he clawed at his thoughts, memories of traversing Avernus did not surface, though he caught glimpses of something else. Kisses along his neck, his hands clutching at a pair of curved horns, oiled fingers easing him open…these and other sensations flashed by him.
Marcus had no doubt of the danger he was in. It would take only a moment for them to be upon him, and he knew that the only reason his soul still belonged to him was because Haarlep had decided not to take it, and not due to some cleverness on Marcus’s behalf. From how he ached and by the semen he now noticed drying at his thighs, he could only assume that the incubus had found him entertaining enough as is. Clinging to his free will, whatever was left of it.
While he ruminated over his predicament, Haarlep observed him. By merely sitting next to Marcus and raking his stare across his body, he was taking up a larger presence in his mind every moment. Those already hazy memories slipped from Marcus's grasp as he caught Haarlep's gaze and they locked eyes.
“So what were you doing that has left me in such a compromising position?” Marcus asked, not expecting a serious answer from the incubus that had previously insisted getting fucked by them could be considered a ‘surprise’.
"We were playing a game." Haarlep replied simply.
"And who won?"
He hoped for a serious answer this time. The fact that his soul was intact was a promising sign - that he couldn't remember the game at all was not. Worryingly, this might not have even been the first time they’d had this conversation.
Haarlep laughed, deep and throaty.
"That remains to be seen. Unless…you wish to forfeit already?"
One of their wings unfurled over Marcus's right side and obscured the room from him, his escape, and forced his gaze towards the incubus. A gentle, uncanny warmth emanated from the scaled membrane, and it put Marcus in the mind of sunbathing on a pleasant summer's day.
“I do hope not, I was enjoying the way you struggled to keep yourself together.” said Haarlep. Adoration dripped from their words, and Marcus had to stop himself from gulping it down.
Every fibre of his body wanted to sink into the bed and submit to him. He was already desperately hard.
Even if he had been fully clothed, blindfolded, and discussing taxes in a chapel, he could feel how their warmth and presence would still make him completely, deeply aroused. There was no escaping his influence, not this close.
And Haarlep was only getting closer. He leant forward and parted his lips slightly, eyes running up Marcus’s body, each part of him positioned to be as enticing as possible.
“Come now. Play with me, Marcus.”
His cock throbbed from the mere call of his name. From how he savoured each vowel, and the way his breathy inflection trailed off into a snakelike hiss, the white noise slithering through his ears, and, Marcus was sure, melting the brain between them.
He needed to keep Haarlep distracted. It was his only chance to piece together some sort of plan before the soft chokehold of pleasure would obliterate his mind entirely.
“Before that,” he stammered, “we need to reiterate the rules of the game.”
The smile left Haarlep’s lips and he shifted position. It was already too late - the incubus had grown bored of their conversation.
A quietly intense expression came over their face as they leaned further over him. One hand planted itself on the bed, to the outside of Marcus's thigh. The other reached forwards, past his cock and settled on his soft stomach. Claws raked through grey hair as he caressed it, and it was enough to make Marcus lose his train of thought entirely. His jaw hung open stupidly as the heat from his palm radiated out into his core, sinking into his body, pinning him to the bed. His flesh immediately surrendered to the gentle pressure that might as well have been the weight of an entire Tarrasque bearing down upon him.
He watched Haarlep's hand stroke the contour of his hip and follow it down to the inside of his thigh. This intimacy was so disarming in its tenderness and familiarity, it was like being touched by someone who had loved him all his life. Marcus felt his breathing grow deep and slow.
“Haarlep…” he warned. It was difficult to keep the hardness in his voice, to not give in to letting their name fall off his lips with a sigh.
Their thumb traced little circles into the skin of his thigh. The warmth was so close to him now, all they would have to do is drift their fingers a little to the left, and they could own him entirely.
In a deliberately calculated move Haarlep looked at him from under their thick eyelashes, but their serious veneer broke with a smile. With some horror Marcus felt the corners of his mouth perk up as well, unable to suppress the instinct to mirror such a lovely expression, or keep affection from rising within him. His heart fluttered at the very thought of submission.
He had to stop. Choke down this urge to please, to obey, no matter how deeply he yearned for it.
Easier said than done, as Haarlep’s hand reached towards his groin and touched his fingertips to Marcus's cock.
“Ah!” The gasp left him with such speed and desperation he had no chance to stop it. Fuck. Fuck.
His fingers curled loosely around his shaft and played with the ridges of his infernal cock, tracing the curved arrowhead shapes that adorned it.
With just this gentle teasing he was impossibly hard and close to embarrassing himself already, though he had a suspicion Haarlep was responsible for both how sensitive he was, and what kept him from spilling over.
This was it, his last chance. Much like his namesake, he was a mouse being pawed at by a cat, moments before the kill. He managed to summon enough willpower to coordinate his throat and mouth, and said:
“Surely the game's no fun if I don't know how to play?”
It was a pathetic excuse and he knew it. There was no mistaking the game they were playing, but with how insidiously bliss crept into his mind and tied silken threads around his thoughts, keeping them safe, secure, unseen, he grasped at any ideas that managed to form.
There was no chance in hell that Marcus would be able to stop his body from dancing to Haarlep’s sweetly seductive tune. They did not allow themself to get distracted from their performance by such petty protests, and squeezed him more firmly. They both watched a bead of pre emerge from his cock like a shimmering jewel.
“I - I didn’t think you’d be so frightened of a fair match,” Marcus tried.
This at least managed to draw a full-bodied laugh out from the incubus.
“Very well. I'll allow you one question about our little game, and only because I enjoy you just that much,” Haarlep looked away from Marcus’s cock and towards his face expectantly. “Then, we will play to win.”
Those eyes. He nearly lost himself again in their flickering light. The inky black sclera were the perfect canvas to the two bright orange rings that adorned them, their pupils were like pits that pulled him into their bottomless depths. He felt nothing but the throbbing of his cock, pulsing wave after wave of pleasure into his mind, pulsing in time to the flickering rings that flowed through their eyes, eroding all thought. In this pit of desire he managed to hold onto a tiny whisper of sanity.
He gulped, hard, and asked:
“So how do I win?”
Haarlep laughed again, this time short, dismissive. The top of his lip curled up into a sneer and when it revealed two pairs of gleaming incisors Marcus immediately understood that he was already in the jaws of a predator.
“That’s easy,” they said. “You don't.”
In the narrowest fraction of a moment that Haarlep’s gaze left his eyes, Marcus felt himself returning, only for his will to immediately dissipate as hot breath kissed at his cock.
The incubus leant over and sucked at his tip, lips pushing against the rim of his glans and tongue lapping at the pre that flowed freely from it.
It was already over.
Any sense of self preservation dissolved the moment those lips met his skin, only pleasure was left in its stead. Nothing was left in him to prevent shuddering moans from escaping his throat.
Oh…he has a forked tongue. Marcus thought to himself idly. Of course he would.
With surprising prehensibility each prong explored his head, probing around his slit and foreskin and making him squirm. His thighs tensed under Haarlep’s chest and arms but the incubus paid it no attention. He squeezed his lips together and swallowed him to the hilt, drinking him deeply. With the way Haarlep’s expression softened and he breathed Marcus in, you could think he was using him for his own pleasure.
His hips pushed off the bed into their mouth, abandoning all thought and dignity. Their throat was wonderfully hot. He felt that heat enter his body wherever Haarlep touched and every tension became uncoiled, filled with a deep and ebbing relaxation. He wanted to bathe in their presence, worship its source, to give himself over and be a vessel for their will until there was nothing left but a toy fit for pleasure.
With a flex of Haarlep’s back, their wings unfolded and loomed over them both, a canopy hiding Marcus from the world. Keeping him safe.
Now there was only Haarlep. He cried out their name again, and again. It became a mantra. With each rapturous, pleading recital Haarlep became more and Marcus grew less.
His cock was enveloped in delicious warmth, and each time it fully entered their throat a pulse of heat spread throughout his body, ending in his curled toes and fingers gripping the sheets.
Then all at once his cock left Haarlep, who looked up at him and asked:
"You were saying, little mouse?"
"What?" If Marcus had contained the capacity to feel anything except sexual pleasure, he would have been extremely indignant. He barely understood the question, and could only think of how to return himself to Haarlep’s mouth.
"You had something important you wanted to tell me,” Haarlep encouraged him while playing with the slick shaft in his hands. Marcus could feel his forehead crease as amnesia and arousal clouded his mind.
“Think a little…I'm sure it'll come back to you,” said Haarlep. Amusement danced in his soft growl.
"I - I can't remember" Marcus admitted. Shame burned at his cheeks. It was as if everything until this moment had been unimportant, unworthy of taking up space in his mind that could be put to much better use. It should be filled with ecstasy, not thought.
"You poor thing. Was it something you wanted me to do, perhaps?" He suggested.
It must have been something to do Haarlep. He was concerned with little else. Marcus searched their face as if he would find the answer there.
"I….want…"
Those orange eyes bore deep into him, pulsing with heat. He felt his own grow heavy and lidded, unable to bear the soothing weight of relaxation pressing down on him.
"You,” Marcus sighed.
Haarlep’s smile grew even wider.
"Then have me you shall," they said, pulling themself into an upright position and swinging their legs over Marcus as if to straddle him. Their knees rested to either side of his torso and their elbows next to Marcus’s head on the pillow, their own face suspended over his.
As they hung over him, their ambient heat reached an almost feverish level. Never had the phrase ‘burning with desire’ been so apt.
The tip of their cock rested on top of his, kissing it gently. The subtle shift in position from their breathing dragged it slowly across back and forth, pendulum-like.
“I just need one more thing in return…something small, really,” they said. Whatever they would ask of him, Marcus was ready to agree to it.
The incubus leant in close. His strong brow lay against his and their horns scraped against each other.
“Just give yourself over to me.” Their voice was a whisper, their lips so near that every word was almost a kiss. “You know what you need to do.”
Their cock slid forwards and slathered pre across Marcus’s own.
“Then you will be mine, and I will be yours.”
“You can have everything.” Marcus breathed.
Haarlep’s back arched as if he had plunged his cock inside them. He was rapturous, claws digging into the pillows either side of Marcus's face and threatening to burst them open, wings spread wide and framing his immaculate body. With a spasm his head rolled back, and he leered down at Marcus with a ravenous smile.
“Come for me.” He commanded.
Though not a single part of Haarlep touched him, Marcus felt him everywhere at once. In his mind, in his body, in his very soul; pleasure cascaded over his entire being.
He felt himself becoming lighter as something left him, not just the seed spilling out from his cock, something far more substantial and incorporeal. It did not matter. There was only bliss, only his hips thrusting into the air and his and Haarlep’s cries intermingling. Something hot splattered onto his stomach - Haarlep too was gasping and spilling over as he fed.
He sank into the bed, limp and spent, a contented smile on his lips. That familiar, loving warmth encased his lower body as Haarlep collapsed onto him. He felt their cock slap against his torso, still hard. There was still plenty more to be had, and Marcus had everything to give.
Let this rhyming mini file lull you into brainless rubbing and touching... the main audio does not have any reference to gender, but the subliminal track uses the phrase "good girl". No anatomy mentions, no induction or wakener.
There is an extended/alt version of this file for paid Patreon members, available here if you are interested in joining and supporting my work. Join the free tier if you want early access to the files I post on Tumblr!
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![[Good Girls] Drop Deep Mini](https://64.media.tumblr.com/40162fe240e2a277b229e3aa17ec7526/35cbeafcc88750d4-01/s540x810/4a6908688186db345001116c82f8449c31f54e3c.png)
