Oh, that wicked itch

Warning: This writing contains sexual situations and blasphemy.

It’s no mystery that I find the taboo of Blasphemy to be erotic. Not for the fact that it’s taboo, but because it’s filthy. Part of me knows writing will send me to hell, but I don’t fear that anymore. Rumor has it; all the best people will be waiting for me. I guess I embrace my darkness more than I should. 

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Kitty training

“Open your mouth, dammit,” he said.

I shook my head from side to side. It wasn’t until he pinched my nose did I open wide. One, then two, and then another. What the hell was he trying to do? He pulled his fingers back, spitting on them before forcing them back in my mouth. What he did was what he called training for the perfect little Kitten. The tall, handsome man had eyes that penetrated the soul each time he looked my way, which he did often. He knew he was making me his puppet, and I let him teach me how to pleasure a cock using his finger as the instrument of oral pleasure.

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