I was on a phone call the other day pretending to be a nun at a bakery.
My role throughout the entire call was to get my ass railed by various kinds of baker’s equipment. I didn’t know this at the time, but there’s a lot of tools involved at bakeries. Tools that when I Wikipedia them, I can’t imagine anyone getting satisfaction from. One of the tools is called a “Flower Nail.” They aid in creating really pretty icing flowers on pastries. They also aided Baker Billy in a fantasy that turned a pure nun into a pin cushion.
He had me stick these things…
ouch!
Up my ass, pussy, and nipples, all the while spanking me telling me how naughty God thought I was. All I could picture in my head was what someone like that would look like. Seven flower nails stuck up someone’s ass? It didn’t even seem like that was possible, just like something you’d see on a tarot card or something.
But it’s the point of my job. I am an outlet for people who could never do things like this in real life. I’ve been doing this long enough to be indifferent towards these people. There’s a desensitization that comes from years of talking to perverts. Words like “Nunnery Cunt,” do not phase me, and there are times where I miss that sense of innocence because it has impacted my outlook on sex. Don’t get me wrong, I still love sex, but it’s been tainted by years of systematic perv talk.
I want to be affected by Nunnery Cunts again dammit!