$13.99
08:55
My Little Marionette | Custom Re-sale
Awakening in the Box
Darkness. Containment. The muffled hum of Mistress’ voice beyond the walls of your confinement. You’ve been stored away but when the lid opens, light and purpose return.
The Unveiling
Mistress lifts you from the box with deliberate grace, sitting you before the mirror. She admires what she’s made: her creation, her marionette. Every movement is a reflection of her craftsmanship
Leathered Silence
A faint rustle, then the sound of leather gripping skin. Her gloved hand presses over your mouth. Breath shortens. The world narrows with measured inhale as she decides whether to grant you air.
Strings & Science
The last string hums to life as you’re connected to the milking machine. A pulse, a pull, the rhythm of mechanical devotion. Another string tightens: the hiss of a gas mask sealing into place. Through the filtered air, her “special potion” fills your lungs, a formula designed to make you drift , flow and perform.
The Dance Begins
Your limbs twitch. The gas burns sweetly. Mistress steps back, watching as you begin to move on your own, animated by her alchemy, performing solely for her gaze. You are no longer a man, nor even a doll. You are herr art.
Why You’ll Crave My Little Marionette.
Mistress Lenore’s expert blend of tactile realism, psychological intimacy, and dark sensual fantasy blurs the line between creation and control. This is not just sound, but possession made audible. Perfect for those who ache to be puppeteered, perfected, and enjoy inhaling throughout restrictions.
Darkness. Containment. The muffled hum of Mistress’ voice beyond the walls of your confinement. You’ve been stored away but when the lid opens, light and purpose return.
The Unveiling
Mistress lifts you from the box with deliberate grace, sitting you before the mirror. She admires what she’s made: her creation, her marionette. Every movement is a reflection of her craftsmanship
Leathered Silence
A faint rustle, then the sound of leather gripping skin. Her gloved hand presses over your mouth. Breath shortens. The world narrows with measured inhale as she decides whether to grant you air.
Strings & Science
The last string hums to life as you’re connected to the milking machine. A pulse, a pull, the rhythm of mechanical devotion. Another string tightens: the hiss of a gas mask sealing into place. Through the filtered air, her “special potion” fills your lungs, a formula designed to make you drift , flow and perform.
The Dance Begins
Your limbs twitch. The gas burns sweetly. Mistress steps back, watching as you begin to move on your own, animated by her alchemy, performing solely for her gaze. You are no longer a man, nor even a doll. You are herr art.
Why You’ll Crave My Little Marionette.
Mistress Lenore’s expert blend of tactile realism, psychological intimacy, and dark sensual fantasy blurs the line between creation and control. This is not just sound, but possession made audible. Perfect for those who ache to be puppeteered, perfected, and enjoy inhaling throughout restrictions.
Awakening in the Box
Darkness. Containment. The muffled hum of Mistress’ voice beyond the walls of your confinement. You’ve been stored away but when the lid opens, light and purpose return.
The Unveiling
Mistress lifts you from the box with deliberate grace, sitting you before the mirror. She admires what she’s made: her creation, her marionette. Every movement is a reflection of her craftsmanship
Leathered Silence
A faint rustle, then the sound of leather gripping skin. Her gloved hand presses over your mouth. Breath shortens. The world narrows with measured inhale as she decides whether to grant you air.
Strings & Science
The last string hums to life as you’re connected to the milking machine. A pulse, a pull, the rhythm of mechanical devotion. Another string tightens: the hiss of a gas mask sealing into place. Through the filtered air, her “special potion” fills your lungs, a formula designed to make you drift , flow and perform.
The Dance Begins
Your limbs twitch. The gas burns sweetly. Mistress steps back, watching as you begin to move on your own, animated by her alchemy, performing solely for her gaze. You are no longer a man, nor even a doll. You are herr art.
Why You’ll Crave My Little Marionette.
Mistress Lenore’s expert blend of tactile realism, psychological intimacy, and dark sensual fantasy blurs the line between creation and control. This is not just sound, but possession made audible. Perfect for those who ache to be puppeteered, perfected, and enjoy inhaling throughout restrictions.
Darkness. Containment. The muffled hum of Mistress’ voice beyond the walls of your confinement. You’ve been stored away but when the lid opens, light and purpose return.
The Unveiling
Mistress lifts you from the box with deliberate grace, sitting you before the mirror. She admires what she’s made: her creation, her marionette. Every movement is a reflection of her craftsmanship
Leathered Silence
A faint rustle, then the sound of leather gripping skin. Her gloved hand presses over your mouth. Breath shortens. The world narrows with measured inhale as she decides whether to grant you air.
Strings & Science
The last string hums to life as you’re connected to the milking machine. A pulse, a pull, the rhythm of mechanical devotion. Another string tightens: the hiss of a gas mask sealing into place. Through the filtered air, her “special potion” fills your lungs, a formula designed to make you drift , flow and perform.
The Dance Begins
Your limbs twitch. The gas burns sweetly. Mistress steps back, watching as you begin to move on your own, animated by her alchemy, performing solely for her gaze. You are no longer a man, nor even a doll. You are herr art.
Why You’ll Crave My Little Marionette.
Mistress Lenore’s expert blend of tactile realism, psychological intimacy, and dark sensual fantasy blurs the line between creation and control. This is not just sound, but possession made audible. Perfect for those who ache to be puppeteered, perfected, and enjoy inhaling throughout restrictions.
