Harem Reject

Look at them! Strutting around like peacocks, hoping to get noticed, desperate to become part of his harem. I pity the poor things that get chosen. Within a week the Count will have sucked them dry and cast them aside without a second thought. Then they’ll end up like me, a withered old crone, forgotten, insignificant,  only fit to wash his socks and hoover his coffin.




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