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Only In Your Mouth Never On My White Shirt
Witness the precision of a goddess who refuses to waste even a single crumb. i sit before you, impeccable in my pristine white shirt, devouring a bowl of steaming porridge with discipline you could only dream of. not a drop stains me. but you? you’ll wear it all in the most humiliating and devoted way possible.this is a lesson in biological worship — where your devotion meets my digestion. watch as i savor every bite, teasing you with the fate of this meal: it will pass through me, untouched by the indignity of spillage, only to become your sacrament. i describe in luscious detail how it will churn inside me, transform, and emerge as your feast — hot, shameful, and mandatory. my ass is your altar. i show you exactly where your nourishment will come from, spreading my cheeks to brand the image into your mind. strict toilet slave training: i dictate what i will and won’t tolerate. you will swallow every bite or face consequences. this is high protocol filth, wrapped in elegance. you’ll kneel, salivate, and finally understand: to serve me is to crave the remains of my perfection. are you ready to dine at the only table that matters?
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