You know your movements are no longer your own, you are being controlled like a puppet.

Dante! It has to be Dante, you know it to be true. You can feel his mind working inside you. He is somehow controlling you, your bloodstream, your oxygen, your marrow and your mind, submitting to his will!

He’s orchestrating your fantasy; dominating your body, searching for your soul, openly sharing his wants and desires. His lust for pleasure causing you to consider a state of consciousness you’d never dreamed possible.

And you are certain the men standing before you have similarly fallen under the influence of his commanding power, where they too are experiencing the same call to surrender, to give themselves to the full pursuit of your pleasure.

Your senses are fully aware of the room around you, but helpless to respond, your cognition somehow coerced into betraying your bidding. You can’t control this fantasy, this fantasy controls you.

But you’re not frightened of any harm, there’s no sense of malice or menace here. Your only fear is not being in control, and not knowing how much submission you can endure, and you can sense Dante won’t let you escape this fear, nor will he allow you to master it.

Minerva and Angelica have each selected their man to govern, and they commence to architect, dictate and project their innermost secret fantasies.

And the idea of these rock-hard stud cocks being dominated and controlled solely by the whim of these two women, sends an overwhelming thrill of erotic delight rippling through your core.

You are helpless now, on the receiving end of the attention of these two incredible looking men, and somehow knowing all their actions are being manipulated by the minds of these two Gothic underworld, vixen-women.

Such an intriguing encounter, you no longer care how or why? You only want to savor this decadent adventure! And where upon on an invisible command you yield to the expectation and stand.

There’s a deep desire burning for you, held behind the eyes of both Aragorn and Robert, and you concede to knowing they must now see the very same lust growing behind yours.

Invisibly, the unseen, unspoken commands of Dante drive his possessive puppetry; your hands moving freely, seemingly of their own accord, they slowly begin to peel the tiny bodycon dress away from your beautiful body.

The tiny black garment dropping to the floor, leaving you standing, naked, but for the sexy sandals and the masquerade mask.

Aragorn stands beside you, his discarded shirt and jeans rumpled at his feet, his toned, buff body, a perfect frame for his full cock, standing straight, unencumbered and free.

In a similar mesmeric and aroused trance Robert stands above his cast off clothes, his unrelenting cock, set free from its earlier restraint, almost shocking for how openly it palpitates between his thighs, begging your attention, so massive now, it could hurt to be so hard.

Both men are tight bodied, toned; lean and well worked, both possessing impressive if not magnificent means: heavy, hard, sizeable, throbbing, instruments made for your pleasure. And your body submits to wanting these men as they stand naked before you in all their glory!

You try to reach outward with your hands, to touch and feel them, but to no avail. Your mind swims against a rising tide of constrained sensations as Dante’s call for your absolute submission intensifies.