I awaken, to find myself captured and tied up by you, James Bond. You explain you’ve been sent by the FBI to capture me and get me to confess to being responsible for a series of unexplained deaths. You’ve dressed me up in an ill-fitting turtle neck sweater to prevent me from using my superpowers against you. Desperately, I begin to plead and beg with you for mercy, as my tears begin to flow. Please, Mr Bond, I’ll do whatever you say, forgive my mistakes… HAHAHA! I really had you there, didn’t I? Did you really think you could overcome me that easily? These ropes are no problem for me to break out of and now I’m going to show you exactly what I’m capable of. I remove the hideous sweater to reveal my magnificent boobs, the boobs which all of those weak, stupid men fell victim to. I remove my bra and the brain cells begin to leave your body as I effortlessly put you under my spell. I command you to begin jerking to my breasts and you naturally obey. As if you could resist the great Dommelia’s tits. You’re going to follow the path of all those other men before you, Bond. We’re going to play a little jerk off game. When I squeeze my tits in, you breathe in and when I release them, you breathe out. Conditioning you to breathe in accordance with my tits, helplessly mesmerised by my breasts. In and out, in and out, breathing and jerking. But what happens when I allow my tits to hang naturally apart for a longer period? What happens to your breath? That lack of oxygen could lead to terrible consequences for you, couldn’t it? But by now, you’re far too helplessly under my spell to do anything about it. You’ll just have to accept your inevitable fate. James Bond, once the world’s greatest secret agent, reduced to another victim of the great Dommelia and her magnificent, irresistible breasts!