Valerie Follass
Pay or get punished
Valerie Follass stands five-seven, weighs a hundred twenty-three pounds. Pale Hungarian skin, blonde hair, blue eyes that go soft when she's on her knees. Born in eighty-seven, she’s deep into her twenties but still blushes when a man she can’t out-strength grabs her wrist and twists it. The camera loves her, and she loves the camera, but what she really wants never gets said out loud on set. She wants to be taken. Told what to do. She comes hardest when the hand on her throat doesn’t ask first, when her body stops being hers and turns into property the second the order leaves some stranger’s mouth. And she knows exactly which men can do it. She can feel it the moment they walk in.
Valerie Follass stands five-seven, weighs a hundred twenty-three pounds. Pale Hungarian skin, blonde hair, blue eyes that go soft when she's on her knees. Born in eighty-seven, she’s deep into her twenties but still blushes when a man she can’t out-strength grabs her wrist and twists it. The camera loves her, and she loves the camera, but what she really wants never gets said out loud on set. She wants to be taken. Told what to do. She comes hardest when the hand on her throat doesn’t ask first, when her body stops being hers and turns into property the second the order leaves some stranger’s mouth. And she knows exactly which men can do it. She can feel it the moment they walk in.