Just because I’m your boy, well surely that doesn’t mean that I have to lie naked, curled up at your feet, whilst you watch TV and write your blog, using me as a footstool?
Just because we call my ass “cunt”, surely that doesn’t mean that it’s there to be fucked hard, deep and often, sometimes lovingly and sometimes raped, purely for your amusement?
Just because I’m your submissive, surely that doesn’t mean that I can be stripped totally naked out in the fields, to be beaten with the belt or whip, with only the wildlife to hear my cries and screams of pain?
Just because I’m your lover, surely that doesn’t mean I’m required to impale you, to hold you down and slide into you, hard, swiftly, making your eyes and your mouth gape in shock as my width fills you and you flood over me?
And just because I’m your slut, surely that doesn’t mean that you HAVE to take a fresh uncooked corn cob, cover it with butter and fuck my boy-cunt with it, deeply, lovingly, its texture causing me to writhe and push back, wanting more of it to fill me, stretch me, fuck me, while you take pictures for later publication?
It does? Well bugger me, who knew?