46

Today she was a strict mistress. Not according to plan, just according to the mood, so that the jetems do not relax. Sitting like this with a straight back on a sofa, half-turning, how are you there, do you watch, not looking up, do you crave her attention?

They follow and crave what is there.

She even like that, out of the corner of her eye, felt the growing tension on the other side of the virtreal. It was her talent, her little secret. Who cares how many slobbering mouths are now open at her thousands of kilometers away, all the other divas, for greater involvement, brought half a dozen omm to their studio to breathe in the back and portray subservience, enough for the mood. But all this palliative entourage was out of place for her - she always performed alone. And still I felt every drop of sweat and every bitten nail of the Jetems.

Perhaps, another diva wouldn’t even need such a talent, what’s the point of why they need this knowledge, what exactly those who pay their bills see
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