mike tyson mysteries sandra

“Good girl, Brianna! Good girl!” she purred, moving her hand back to my shaft. “And since you asked so nicely...” she laughed and started thrusting again, slowly at first but gradually picking up speed. Whatever she'd given me, whether it was Viagra, or ecstasy, or some cocktail of the two with who-knows-what thrown in on the side, it wasn't long before I started noticing the effect. I could feel the pressure building and building, like a heat at the base of my shaft, growing to a fire, then an inferno, searching for a release.

As for Galvin, we’re lucky that regeneration serum managed to fix his injuries. Even with the Wassengel, no one would support a blind, dickless eunuch for a king. But no serum could fix his shattered mind.” She looked down at the manacle on her arm, similar in design to the one Galvin used to control the Wassengel, and with a similar purpose. “Still, perhaps it wasn’t without its silver lining. My son was supposed to be my key to the throne, but the little cretin failed me at every turn. Now he’s finally useful to me, and all I had to do was take away his free will and turn him into a good little puppet. This was simply the excuse to do what had to be done. I can feel him fighting for control, feel his resentment, but it’s no matter. He will serve the purpose for his birth whether he likes it or not.”

“Better than you, feeding on people’s hatred and coming here purely out of spite. I’m trying to accomplish something, to change things. You just want to enrage people and bask in their disdain.”