Merry, Go Fuck Yourself
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I so fucking seriously hate this time of the year. Hands out, bells fucking ringing, just annoyance every where I go. I do have a life, and really can’t escape all the nonsense. I lost Whamageddon, as soon as I entered the Pharmacy. Like I fucking said, I hate this time of the year.
I was paid well to do a lame photo shoot, so now on to the bar to get obliterated. I listened to a conversation where this man was complaining about his wife. She just doesn’t seem to get the fact he likes it a little rough. He likes his balls to be beat up. Punk music to my ears.
I ever so politely asked if I could help with that. He laughed, said I was such a tiny, and girly little thing. He said I couldn’t hurt a tiny kitten. That story is for another time, because hell fucking yes, I could hurt a kitten.
More details blah blah blah, and he was now naked, scared, and at my home. The drug I gave him had worn off and he was soon wide awake. He struggled against the leather ropes and then let out a loud moan. Ah, his tied up balls are beginning to turn a lovely shade of blue.
He tried to beg, plead, and apologize. So annoying, but that’s what ball gags are for. Merry Christmas, loser!
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