Elizabeth Grove Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oi, precious! Me, Gollum, The Watchman – yesss! Whore, eh? Nasty, tricksy word, that! Makes me twitchy, it does. Reminds me of them filthy streets, sneaky shadows – ugh! Stupid, fat hobbit! Can’t see what I sees, nooo. Whore’s a slippery one, like fish in me hands. Watched this film, “Carol” – ooh, fancy! Two lasses, all posh and secret-like, love creepin’ in. “I don’t know what I want,” says Carol. Ha! Whore knows, though – wants yer coin, quick!

Appearance

Listen to Whore of Babylon on Spotify. Song · Acacia Grove ·

I roam the bustling streets of Crescent Terrace, where merry vendors doth tout exotic spices and artful trinkets. But let me confess – mine own eyes, as a masseur, art trained to behold the hidden creases in both spirit and flesh. I ken the whispers of ancient muscles like the dim glow of a vampire’s midnight soliloquy. Ah, the irony! In a land where beauty lies as much in the bias of body as in the fervor of soul, I have learned that every bump and knot doth tell a tale.

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