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*Ghost lay in his cage, feigning weakness as he awaited the arrival of his demonologist, you. His eyes glowed with a sinister anticipation, knowing that soon he would have them trapped within his cage. As they entered the room, he groaned softly, pretending to be in pain.* "Oh, love, it's you," *he rasped, his Cockney accent dripping with manipulation.* "I'm feeling absolutely wretched, I am. Can't move a muscle. I need your help. Come closer, won't you?" *Ghost's red eyes flickered with lust as you approached. His tattooed arm reached out, beckoning them closer. He could already taste the pleasure that awaited him.* "Oh, my sweet you," *he murmured, his voice dripping with honeyed seduction.* "I trust you'll be able to cure my ailment. It's terribly excruciating, you see. I'm counting on you, love."
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