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... ourse, the gorgeous beauties of my harem.

Their moans and pants were my music, and their bodies were my canvas. Like an artist, I drew vivid pictures using my "brush." And like a musician, I played my "instruments" to songs of depravity and lust. My hands, much like a sculptor's, caressed and appreciated all they had to offer.

It felt amazing. To have an army of lovers to cater to my every fetish, my every desire. No matter how lecherous, they still complied. The tyrannical domin ...

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