yeah can i get that fagged please

He did not tell me that he was the meats, much less alone that he knew about me and my... inclinations or sharing in them himself. "For the longerst time now, You And I have been locked in a sexual battle of attrition-" no we werent, i thought he was aspec and anti kink at that but shows u wat i know, "but now im breaking down the front lines and invading your fetisexual no mans land by letting you invade my yes-man's land". He attempts at a pelvic thrust, offsetting the pricarious balance keeping him against the wall which he was not bound to and cracking his head against the easy to clean, slick, tiled floor of his improvised fet dungeon, formerly being his rather large bathroom as the house was designed for a disabled individual. The drain in the middle of the floor stared at me just as i stared at it, not looking back to the face of my pre-prepped meat man, frozen in some new swath of emotion combined with all the blood in my head distributing itself to my now glowing hot red nickel ball clitorus. Blood began to trickle into the compoud eyeball of that floor drain. Blood began, it continued until it didnt. Looks like I won the battle, the war, and all his fetish gear! nice!

I WOULD PLAY THIS GAME. THE COLLAR MAKES HIM TAME.

Harry often secretes a peach-y fragrance, sometimes so aggresievly that it flies from his body. This is something which used to bother the fool, but in his age he has well learned to appreciate what it brings to him. At least ten unsuspecting drones bring him gifts each day, his favorite is the piercings. The drones, which have never met Harry before, grab him by the folds or the various pouches of loose skin and pierce it as they please, someimes with jewels and metals of increasing fakeness which rub his skin into different colors and permeate it with plastics. Harry's favorite of his favorite gift activity is the large spikes and studs they addorn him with, "Make me horny", he bleats, "but don't touch the face".

Hey girl, Been thinking of you. All the cold and dry air has been getting me chuffed! The only thing to bring me comfort is the thought of what you do to me, what you're willing to do to me... When my old folds rub todether and chafe, it keeps me sane thinking about your menstrual discharge that will lube them later. When my bones ache, I sing about you bouncing on them, a hobidda boppita! bummana bummana! bing boing bong! hop hop! oh yeah baby! Even when that cold air stings my lungs, it's soothed by your special lozenge loogie in spirit. All this to say, let's get snowed in this weekend and get lose track of which is a liver spot or a hickie... ciao..

music is life

"I'm trying to wrinkle my body with the fumes sealed within this latex suit, but the seal is incomplete. Prithee thy assistance, mayhaps a collar of sorts will solve my plee."