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Bare bottom ** tanny
I’m a sweet little princess boy who’s been naughty, I want someone to come scold me over what I done take me to the bed room pull down my ** and beat my ** (belt) all night long in return I will let you tare my ** hole apart
Charlotte area
You surely are disgusting. Words cannot describe how much so. Your filthy behaviors are depraved and perverted, and your appetites are uncontrollable. But as you know, I see in you the prospect of being useful to a man who can control you with the administration of frequent and vicious beatings. A man such as myself. I can see that you will respond to those beatings in a positive, affirming way, because you will see them for what they are: love. You know that I beat you so much because I love you so much. You know that I know your wires are so badly crossed that love and punishment are seen as the same thing in your mind and so they produce the same responses in you. What are those responses? You know. They are your **. I have never seen a man ** like you **. You are amazing. You are gifted. The volume, frequency and duration of your ** are off the charts. And the weight, aroma and flavor of your ** are unexcelled. But no one has ever produced the level of ** in you that I have. So, yes, I will beat you. I will beat you because you need it, the same way you need love, the same way you need oxygen. And as I beat you, and as you ask for more, we both know that what exists between us is love. I will have you. I will own you. And, God knows, I will make you **.
Thank you for telling me how disgusting I am. I am ** now thinking the fantastic beating you are giving me on my bare bottom. I need it so badly so I can cu m so much for you.
You have learned your lesson well, darling, and are growing more eager for our sessions. So, I'll give you an extra spanking this morning. No implements, just my bare and open hand across your already-red and hungry and naked bottom. As I slap you harder and harder, with you bent over my knee, I can feel that insistent ** of yours pressing more fervently against the side of my thigh, and I know.....it's time. I silently urge you to stand, and you do so. And as you rise to your full height, your rod is at the level of my face. And it is beautiful and ready. And your ** are loaded (actually, over-loaded) and primed just right. So as I part my lips and lean toward your shaft-tip, your jets kick in and you begin the fire-hose expulsion of your love. The first stream strikes the back of my throat, just clearing my teeth and tongue, because you are becoming expert at the directing of your spray, as if -- when you are with me -- you have laser-guided aim of each and every drop and globule, so as to be sure that you waste none of your spend: you know I love you and you know I treasure your rich, thick, delicious, fragrant cream. And with the first stream pouring down my throat, you pump and you pump and you pump and you pump and you pump and you pump and you pump and you pump and you pump, with ever-longer and thicker and more-voluminous rivers following behind. You continue to pump more and more love into my belly, until you pass out from the effort and the fluid-loss, and from the satisfaction of a job well done. Oh, darling, you have made me very happy with this **: not one drop spilled. Thank you for loving me, and for being such a delightful **. And have a wonderful day.