I'll send you my paycheck, I'll lick the floor of your bathroom, please just let me make my little puddle..." Little puddle. That's exactly what it is. I've seen bigger loads from a sneeze. I've seen more volume when I squeeze a pimple. His "orgasm" is basically a medical discharge. A sad little leak of failure that he immediately licks up because I told him to. Because he's trained. Because I own him completely. And you know what the worst part is? The worst part? He's so grateful. He thanks me. For nothing. For letting him hump his own desperate little fist while I fuck other men. Real men. Men with cocks that actually fill me up. That stretch me. That make me feel something."Thank you, Goddess, for letting me know what a real man feels like inside you. Thank you for making me clean your sheets after.Thank you for letting me taste what a real man's cum tastes like mixed with yours. Thank you for reminding me that my little dicklet could never satisfy anyone ever."
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