Hell's infectious spread has consumed Earth as we know it. Humanity lives on, holding on just barely, thrust down to the bottom of the food chain and stuck in an endless war against the hordes of evil. God has abandoned His creations. The Heavens have locked their gates long ago.
Nobody has seen one like Auden in over a century. The Fallen are highly sought after as they are defenceless, weak and precious. They aren't meant to survive, and Auden doesn't expect his life to go on for much longer either. Fortunately — or rather unfortunately, — it appears someone special has taken a liking to him, and will not let him go so easily.
Character refs/exploration/lore/fun facts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
Art:
Grim and Mori have a little snack together :)
Playlists: Grim I His Majesty
General cw: creepy/intimate whumper, sadistic whumper, carewhumper, angel whumpee, demon whumper, deity whumper, nonhuman whumpee/whumper, gore, torture, abuse, blood, manipulation, death, power dynamics, cannibalism (?), religious undertones and fucky headspaces related to God and such, (fantasy) medwhump, tiny whump, collars, slavery, dehumanisation, gay ass deities, suicidal ideation, self-loathing, I'll add more as we go
0. The Prelude - Auden's fall
1. Mercy - Auden arrives in rather rough shape to the Dragon Queen's manor, where he finds himself being taken care of by a seemingly gentle enough demon healer :3
2. Thoughts of Resentment - direct continuation of Mercy, we meet Miss Thu'lin
2.5. Chess - written after Foreboding Intermezzo, but happens right before Grim shows up at Miss Thu'lin's. tiny whump, gore, introducing someone special :)
3. Death Comes Knocking - cont. from Thoughts of Resentment, Grim introduces himself in a rather dramatic fashion, the Doctor dips
4. The Shepherd Wolf - cont. from Death Comes Knocking, Grim takes a basically catatonic Auden 'home' as the angel boy tries his damnedest not to have a meltdown, and fails!
5. Mori - cont. from The Shepherd Wolf, Auden meets a friend :)
6. A Lesson in Selfishness - cont. from Mori, Auden learns how to eat things! :) definitely nothing else happens
7. Bloodhound - after A Lesson in Selfishness, Grim's pov
8. Brazen Arrogance - direct cont of Bloodhound, we finally meet some humans, His Majesty is not happy
9. Foreboding Intermezzo - Mori and Auden get some time to themselves while Grim is away
10. Abhorrent - Grim and His Majesty are being gay in public, also some people die
11. Blasphemy - Auden in his panic calls for Grim after Mori passes out, Grim and Auden have a nice pleasant little conversation! :D
11.5 Limbo - our favourite angel boy seems to be losing touch with reality somewhat, but not to worry, Grim is there to ease all his worries :3
12. My Dear Old Friend - part one of auden meeting his new master, His Majesty
13. The Raven - second part of auden meeting his new master, His Majesty, tw grims sadomasochism
14. Introductions — "Welcome Home, Auden."
14.5. Demulcent Turmoil — Mori, after having fallen unconscious from blood loss, awakes in the clinic and has a generally bad time
(cont. under readmore)
Oneshots (as in anything that doesn't (yet) fit into the clean chronological list at the top 👍)
Pearls of Maroon - his majesty punishes some poor servant in front of an audience (cont. in Phantasmagoria)
Lapdog - poor Mori being bullied for being so very pretty and submissive and good at their job :(
Mice - cont. from Lapdog — Mori is a little bit too scared and unstable, Grim is a little bit too tired to deal with it all.
Phantasmagoria - cont. of Pearls of Maroon; our poor clumsy little servant boy's punishment
Giftwrapped - Grim has a gift for Mori <3
Soulsearching - mori and grim do some introspection together
Mistwoods — One of the Doctor's little lab rats escapes. His Majesty and his hounds go out for a little late night hunt :)
The 'Quiet Game' — Grim and Mori play a fun game!
First name Grim, last name Reaper? — Auden makes an attempt on Grim's life (being so silly that it kills him)
In-Character Responses
~ What do you think about Auden? (Mori)
~ Do you hurt the Reaper often? (His Majesty)
~ Do you ever feel guilty for how you treat Mori? (Grim)
~ OUGHH I NEED TO PET THE LITTLE CREATURE (labrat whumpee)
~ hello doctor how are you i miss you… (the Doctor)
~ What do you miss most about heaven and your life before you fell? (Auden)
~ What do you do in your free time? Anything you wish you could do? (Mori)
~ I loooooveeee Mori! (Mori)
~ Grim could take my blood. If he wanted to... (Grim)
Related
Sickeningly Sweet Ichor - an angel boy with a demon owner [this is older, but moved from my main masterlist to auden’s, im sure theres no reason for that dont worry about it]
My little mortal — a lonely deity takes in an annoyingly persistent mortal they grow to like, promising to give it exactly what it wants: divine attention (/malicious >:)) [another older one-shot moved to this masterlist, surely this has no narrative importance, dont think about it too long :-) ]
Childhood Monster — a creature that lives in the memory of every child, and a now adult who has a starving family and no other choice
Untitled
"All the same, no?" | Cold hands | Choking | Presence |
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
CWs: general cws relating to this series, as well as medwhump, nonhuman whumpee, nonhuman whumper, slavery mention, hallucinations/delirium/psychosis, unconsciousness, references to past torture/noncon (of the 'if you squint' variety), creepy/intimate whumper, humiliation, sir/master, begging, dehumanisation, mori is a little cranky from blood loss :/
Author's note: during a certain scene near the end of this chapter, Mori's pronouns switch for a small while. To avoid confusion, I feel obliged to say that this is not a mistake.
Somebody is always hurt. Slipped and ate shit down the stairs because they hadn't eaten in two days. Burnt the shit out of their hand in the kitchen because they spilled boiling hot stew over themself in their hurry. Got themself into shit with the others, or they were too much of an easy target not to be picked on and got themself beat to shit… Whether that or they shat the bed in some other inconceivably stupid way, there is always some shit going on, and it always earns somebody a swift punishment — and sometimes an even swifter journey to the clinic.
But the clinic isn't a pleasant place to be. Mori, for one, has only ever been brought down here once they could no longer stand on their own. It isn't the place where the common servant can hide away and be taken care of for every little scratch and bruise. It's a labyrinth that nobody ever enters of their own accord; so as they awaken now with plentiful lethargy and no memory of falling asleep, once they feel the sheets dry and rough beneath them, they know they have failed.
They failed, but how bad is it? Whether a botched task or one too many rounds lost to their master, they couldn't guess. They suppose they could have just been clumsy enough to have landed themself here all on their own — they shudder to imagine the consequences for such inadequacy. Whatever it was, they will have a much easier time finding out once they observe for themself. With a grimace, they attempt to open one eye.
The only thing more grating than the incessant buzz of the white lights overhead is their brightness. Mori can understand that it's important to have plenty of light in a place where such precise work is done, but there must be a way to turn them off, if only for as long as they rest… It seems they must simply force themself to endure it, like they do with just about everything else. Can a world exist which isn't so headache-inducing or do they only come pre-made with annoyances like this, they wonder. The taste of sleep in their mouth is sour and their tongue dry. Peeling their lids back proves to be rather challenging, but they persevere.
It's blurry at first. As they had guessed; the room is empty. They aren't sure if every sick room looks the same, or if they just keep being given the same one. The walls are the same off-white, the cot is as almost-comfortable as ever, and the smell of the resident house demon permeates as freely as it does in their nightmares. Utter silence. Chilly. Dizzy…
To their left, there is something hanging from the ceiling — no, not the ceiling. It's an IV bag. Anything could be in it, dripping poison into their veins, but they do not claw at it, because they do not feel like it. They frown. They do not feel like doing anything at all. All they know is what the ache at their temple tells them, which is that they should stay put. Now that they think about it, their head feels very fuzzy and weird. Lighter? Or floaty, or… it's hard to tell. It's like their brain was replaced with warm mud. It must have leaked out, because their forehead feels sticky.
They are so thirsty. Surely it had left them something to drink. If they are thirsty, then it knew they would be thirsty when they woke up, so it had to have left a glass of water for them, maybe some pills, something to chew on, on the bedside table in a metal tray —
Mori blinks. — “Oh.”
Perching politely out of view, they find the ward assigned to them. It watches ceaselessly, gargoyle-like in its work; a creature resembling a bird with a halo of eyes around its head, utterly incapable of blinking as far as Mori is aware. The watchful nature of these creatures makes them perfect for keeping an eye on patients. It must be that the Lord conjured them for the Doctor himself — maybe after some pestering from it. It cannot be everywhere at once, after all, so if he burdens it alone with keeping every one of his subjects alive and well, it makes sense that he provide aid in that. Yes, it must have gone something like that.
The thing is just as quiet as its owner; not that Mori is feeling particularly chatty. Still, if it could bring them just half a glass of water… It's worth a try. Before they could ask however, the ward hops around, fluffs up its wings and flies off, leaving onyx feathers melting off the bars from where they phased through. They close their mouth. Well, now they really are alone. As alone as they ever are.
Waiting like this, weak, useless, achy — it doesn't feel good. Lying around in bed always has them antsy. It cannot really be called rest. Rest should not breed such anticipation. It has to return soon. When will it come to see them?
The cot creaks below. It doesn't seem possible to find a comfortable position that feels less like they are about to be beat, so after a few minutes of squirming, they decide that they are going to try to get up. This rest feels undeserved. That — and the echoes of someone who cannot be here — prompt their uncertain arms to begin working on sitting them up. They manage to prop themself on their elbows, but quickly begin losing strength, and they fall right back down onto the stiff mattress. It runs dark, the vertigo relentless. Maybe… maybe staying in bed is not a bad idea after all.
But such rationale doesn't keep their thrumming pulse at bay, so soon they try a different approach and attempt to carefully roll out of bed instead. They have to try something, anything. Anything to get rid of that awful feeling of trapped, bare and helpless. In pain, stewing.
Waiting. In someone else's bed.
“Where are you going?”
Mori freezes, their fingers curled into the sheets. No, they forgot. They thought they were alone. Stupid. They never leave him alone. He isn't allowed out.
‘There is nothing for you out there. Stop reaching.’
It hurts to be reminded, but it helps him calm down — that familiar numbness of helplessness spreads out. He hears the dragging of the chain that runs along those creaky floorboards, grown rusted from his blood. They had said they'd take a look at his leg where it rubbed the skin raw — it's starting to stink, and he can't really stand anymore. Can't see what they're doing behind him. Are they still there? He has to stop zoning out. He's so thirsty.
“You do not pull away from me.”
They sound angry now. He pulled away again. He didn't mean to, it's just so hard to stay still when the pliers come out, but he can stay still, he's ready now.
“You wanna sleep with the hogs again?”
His brows knit together. No, no, he can behave, he's so sorry. If the foot of the bed was too much, he would be happy to sleep on the carpet, on the floor even! He won't make a peep.
“Snotty mutt…”
He can't help it, he can't hold the tears once they start. They think he's fishing for sympathy, but he doesn't mean to. Something bangs against the table, drawing a flinch.
“Useless…”
He's trying! He wants to be useful, he wants to be kept around, he wants to be wanted, he wants to be —
“Mohhh-ri~”
Shoulders hitch, and a shiver runs down the spine. That haunting, unmistakable hum… Master… Master Grim is here. He has returned already? No, he never left. They must have… Mori must have got confused again. Master Grim has them now; how could they have forgotten? He saved them.
"Come back to bed, my little fawn. Let me hold you.”
Oh, that's right. The sheets tangle between their fingers, and the mattress seems to envelop them in its embrace, yet they are still cold. They must have rolled away in their sleep, left their Master's arms on accident. No, they must have just come back from the washroom, that's why he said it like that. It makes sense. They probably did that. Thank the lord he didn't grow frustrated waiting for them. They must have woken him; oh, they are such a fool, getting lost in daydreams and delusions like this. It's only some ungodly luck that he is content despite it.
“Right away, sir,” — they whisper, and roll back to where they started. Master Grim's hands lead them into his embrace. They feel him shaping their body against his, bringing them close to him. He moves rigid, a little hesitant for some reason. His arms pause around them and they grow tense, but then they move to rest on them properly, so they allow their body to relax. They must be good; he is being so kind. Suddenly, guilt eats them alive. They woke him when he is clearly so exhausted. He hates being woken, he finds it so difficult to fall asleep to begin with, he trusts them to help him find rest and they still end up being such a nuisance.
They curl dutifully into phantom touch, making themself small and easy to hold. Their master says nothing more, but they apologise nevertheless, once whispered, then with careful softness, all up until they fall still in what they feel to be heavy arms keeping them captive. Softly, they begin snoring, letting their loneliness keep them company in this little cell they escaped by delirium.
CWs: general cws relating to this series, as well as medwhump, nonhuman whumpee, nonhuman whumper, slavery mention, hallucinations/delirium/psychosis, unconsciousness, references to past torture/noncon (of the 'if you squint' variety), creepy/intimate whumper, humiliation, sir/master, begging, dehumanisation, mori is a little cranky from blood loss :/
Author's note: during a certain scene near the end of this chapter, Mori's pronouns switch for a small while. To avoid confusion, I feel obliged to say that this is not a mistake.
Somebody is always hurt. Slipped and ate shit down the stairs because they hadn't eaten in two days. Burnt the shit out of their hand in the kitchen because they spilled boiling hot stew over themself in their hurry. Got themself into shit with the others, or they were too much of an easy target not to be picked on and got themself beat to shit… Whether that or they shat the bed in some other inconceivably stupid way, there is always some shit going on, and it always earns somebody a swift punishment — and sometimes an even swifter journey to the clinic.
But the clinic isn't a pleasant place to be. Mori, for one, has only ever been brought down here once they could no longer stand on their own. It isn't the place where the common servant can hide away and be taken care of for every little scratch and bruise. It's a labyrinth that nobody ever enters of their own accord; so as they awaken now with plentiful lethargy and no memory of falling asleep, once they feel the sheets dry and rough beneath them, they know they have failed.
They failed, but how bad is it? Whether a botched task or one too many rounds lost to their master, they couldn't guess. They suppose they could have just been clumsy enough to have landed themself here all on their own — they shudder to imagine the consequences for such inadequacy. Whatever it was, they will have a much easier time finding out once they observe for themself. With a grimace, they attempt to open one eye.
The only thing more grating than the incessant buzz of the white lights overhead is their brightness. Mori can understand that it's important to have plenty of light in a place where such precise work is done, but there must be a way to turn them off, if only for as long as they rest… It seems they must simply force themself to endure it, like they do with just about everything else. Can a world exist which isn't so headache-inducing or do they only come pre-made with annoyances like this, they wonder. The taste of sleep in their mouth is sour and their tongue dry. Peeling their lids back proves to be rather challenging, but they persevere.
It's blurry at first. As they had guessed; the room is empty. They aren't sure if every sick room looks the same, or if they just keep being given the same one. The walls are the same off-white, the cot is as almost-comfortable as ever, and the smell of the resident house demon permeates as freely as it does in their nightmares. Utter silence. Chilly. Dizzy…
To their left, there is something hanging from the ceiling — no, not the ceiling. It's an IV bag. Anything could be in it, dripping poison into their veins, but they do not claw at it, because they do not feel like it. They frown. They do not feel like doing anything at all. All they know is what the ache at their temple tells them, which is that they should stay put. Now that they think about it, their head feels very fuzzy and weird. Lighter? Or floaty, or… it's hard to tell. It's like their brain was replaced with warm mud. It must have leaked out, because their forehead feels sticky.
They are so thirsty. Surely it had left them something to drink. If they are thirsty, then it knew they would be thirsty when they woke up, so it had to have left a glass of water for them, maybe some pills, something to chew on, on the bedside table in a metal tray —
Mori blinks. — “Oh.”
Perching politely out of view, they find the ward assigned to them. It watches ceaselessly, gargoyle-like in its work; a creature resembling a bird with a halo of eyes around its head, utterly incapable of blinking as far as Mori is aware. The watchful nature of these creatures makes them perfect for keeping an eye on patients. It must be that the Lord conjured them for the Doctor himself — maybe after some pestering from it. It cannot be everywhere at once, after all, so if he burdens it alone with keeping every one of his subjects alive and well, it makes sense that he provide aid in that. Yes, it must have gone something like that.
The thing is just as quiet as its owner; not that Mori is feeling particularly chatty. Still, if it could bring them just half a glass of water… It's worth a try. Before they could ask however, the ward hops around, fluffs up its wings and flies off, leaving onyx feathers melting off the bars from where they phased through. They close their mouth. Well, now they really are alone. As alone as they ever are.
Waiting like this, weak, useless, achy — it doesn't feel good. Lying around in bed always has them antsy. It cannot really be called rest. Rest should not breed such anticipation. It has to return soon. When will it come to see them?
The cot creaks below. It doesn't seem possible to find a comfortable position that feels less like they are about to be beat, so after a few minutes of squirming, they decide that they are going to try to get up. This rest feels undeserved. That — and the echoes of someone who cannot be here — prompt their uncertain arms to begin working on sitting them up. They manage to prop themself on their elbows, but quickly begin losing strength, and they fall right back down onto the stiff mattress. It runs dark, the vertigo relentless. Maybe… maybe staying in bed is not a bad idea after all.
But such rationale doesn't keep their thrumming pulse at bay, so soon they try a different approach and attempt to carefully roll out of bed instead. They have to try something, anything. Anything to get rid of that awful feeling of trapped, bare and helpless. In pain, stewing.
Waiting. In someone else's bed.
“Where are you going?”
Mori freezes, their fingers curled into the sheets. No, they forgot. They thought they were alone. Stupid. They never leave him alone. He isn't allowed out.
‘There is nothing for you out there. Stop reaching.’
It hurts to be reminded, but it helps him calm down — that familiar numbness of helplessness spreads out. He hears the dragging of the chain that runs along those creaky floorboards, grown rusted from his blood. They had said they'd take a look at his leg where it rubbed the skin raw — it's starting to stink, and he can't really stand anymore. Can't see what they're doing behind him. Are they still there? He has to stop zoning out. He's so thirsty.
“You do not pull away from me.”
They sound angry now. He pulled away again. He didn't mean to, it's just so hard to stay still when the pliers come out, but he can stay still, he's ready now.
“You wanna sleep with the hogs again?”
His brows knit together. No, no, he can behave, he's so sorry. If the foot of the bed was too much, he would be happy to sleep on the carpet, on the floor even! He won't make a peep.
“Snotty mutt…”
He can't help it, he can't hold the tears once they start. They think he's fishing for sympathy, but he doesn't mean to. Something bangs against the table, drawing a flinch.
“Useless…”
He's trying! He wants to be useful, he wants to be kept around, he wants to be wanted, he wants to be —
“Mohhh-ri~”
Shoulders hitch, and a shiver runs down the spine. That haunting, unmistakable hum… Master… Master Grim is here. He has returned already? No, he never left. They must have… Mori must have got confused again. Master Grim has them now; how could they have forgotten? He saved them.
"Come back to bed, my little fawn. Let me hold you.”
Oh, that's right. The sheets tangle between their fingers, and the mattress seems to envelop them in its embrace, yet they are still cold. They must have rolled away in their sleep, left their Master's arms on accident. No, they must have just come back from the washroom, that's why he said it like that. It makes sense. They probably did that. Thank the lord he didn't grow frustrated waiting for them. They must have woken him; oh, they are such a fool, getting lost in daydreams and delusions like this. It's only some ungodly luck that he is content despite it.
“Right away, sir,” — they whisper, and roll back to where they started. Master Grim's hands lead them into his embrace. They feel him shaping their body against his, bringing them close to him. He moves rigid, a little hesitant for some reason. His arms pause around them and they grow tense, but then they move to rest on them properly, so they allow their body to relax. They must be good; he is being so kind. Suddenly, guilt eats them alive. They woke him when he is clearly so exhausted. He hates being woken, he finds it so difficult to fall asleep to begin with, he trusts them to help him find rest and they still end up being such a nuisance.
They curl dutifully into phantom touch, making themself small and easy to hold. Their master says nothing more, but they apologise nevertheless, once whispered, then with careful softness, all up until they fall still in what they feel to be heavy arms keeping them captive. Softly, they begin snoring, letting their loneliness keep them company in this little cell they escaped by delirium.
Living weapon/slave/pet whumpee realizing they don’t have any baby pictures or their lost teeth or anything of their childhood at all. They barely remember it, and so it feels like they just, came into existence fully formed.
Feeling sick looking at other peoples pictures and realize that’s what a kid looked like, that’s what they looked like, while they were being “trained”, how could someone do that to a kid?
Not being able to understand references to movies or books or cartoons because they never did anything other than training, even their education was deadened and cold. After all, what would a kids book mean to a kid that never got to be one?
Hearing caretaker talk about their “inner child” and being confused because it didn’t feel like they had one. They felt like it was too late, that their inner child was snuffed out. Or that they were still just a child in some ways, confused and scared and out of their depth.
Confused when people do things for them without expectation. They had no experience with love of any kind, but especially not the giving, generous, selfless love that might come from a parent or guardian. It makes them uncomfortable, to be cared for. It throws into stark relief all that had been missing in their life, disrupts their sense of the world, but also… it feels good. Like getting into a hot bath after being out in the snow.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"I want to be the one to have heard your last words. The one who touched you last. I want my expression to be frozen in the mirror of your lifeless eyes."
when whumper isn't kind and isn't even pretending to be kind or accept whumpee but they still desperately hang onto them because there's nothing else. angel whumpee accepting a demon's touch because it almost feels like a caress and that almost feels like family and that's practicallly home. accepting every condescending word whumper speaks and every touch they cannot mistake for kind because it's still touch and it's still being wanted. for some reason. for any reason. stupid pet but pet.
give it up for voice breaks everyone. round of applause for shaky whimpers, pained cries, distressed whining, keening in the back of the throat, that moment when a character tries so hard to keep talking but their voice cracks into a fluttery, weak little plea for help
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Have Whumper cut Whumpee's hair. It's terrifying, especially if Whumper has cut Whumpee before. They can hold the scissors agaisnt Whumpee's throat in the same spot where they usually hold the knife. They can joke around about nipping an ear. Whumpee can flinch at the sound of the scissors. They can tremble, having a hard time holding still. Whumper can roughly pull their head in different positions for the cut. And for Whumpee there is yet another thing they lost control over: their appearance.
Whumpee who is always an outsider. The loner, the third wheel, the last choice. They have no friends; no real friends anyway. They are only approached once nobody else is available. Only ever worth talking to when nobody else is around to replace them.
And they're always available. They're so desperately lonely, so aware of how little anybody cares for them that they go above and beyond to be worth knowing. They are funny, they are interesting, they are always there and always interested and always ready to join in and always willing to make new friends — and they get a little excited when they feel like somebody is looking at them like they might actually be interested in them for real! — and that's when it all goes wrong, they think. They become too much. Clingy, annoying, too much talking, too many stupid jokes, getting lost in the lies and truths they divulge in their attempt to seem cool or at least unique in some way, just a little special to someone.
They know that is what it is, because when it inevitably happens again; when their friend meets somebody new and they are swiftly replaced yet again, relegated to second or third or fifth or tenth place on the list of people worth hanging out with, and they are only ever called on when all other friends are busy, they know it's because they are so hopelessly loyal and dependent and pathetically yearning for a real friend that they will always stick around, and will always be available and will always be there, no matter what, because what if they are not there and their friend leaves them?
That new friend could be the most boring person in the world and it wouldn't matter, because they aren't Whumpee. They aren't always there, they aren't a shadow, a ghost, a loser. They are a real person, and Whumpee obviously isn't. No real person has this happen to them every single time. Nobody is cursed to stay alone forever like they are. Most people can make friends very easily. Most people don't have to practice having conversations with other people in their room by themself. Most people don't feel like this all the time.
But it doesn't matter how much they change. It doesn't matter how interesting they are, how funny, how dependable, how fun. It doesn't matter, because they're Whumpee, and that is something they just cannot hide, no matter how much they practice. They were Whumpee twenty years ago, and they will still be Whumpee sixty years from now. They just hope it'll stop hurting eventually.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
