Oh, you naive, trembling fuck, you’ve got no idea what’s curling up your nose right now, do you? That silky, flowery aroma—sweet as sin, thick as lust—it’s no ordinary stench, you brainless twat. It’s "The Sissy’s Incense," my own cursed brew, a filthy spell bottled in those enchanted aroma you’re clutching like a lifeline. Feel that aroma slithering down your throat, clawing into your lungs, sinking its teeth into your life? Your chest’s tingling already, isn’t it? That pathetic slab of muscle shrinking, softening, turning into a pair of soft, perky tits just begging to be squeezed. Your body’s betraying you, you dumb cunt—shrinking down, delicate and frail, a perfect frame for kneeling at a man’s feet. I can see it, you know, that shiver running through you, your skin crawling as it smooths out, hairless and girly, ready to be dolled up and fucked raw.