You’ve learned that one doesn’t merely throw out The Giant Butt Plug. One melts it down, hides it beneath the floorboards, and then sings Metallica’s “Seek and Destroy” while moshing with your subbie sisters.
You’ve stuh-stopped p-p-pretending you like every suh-sex t-t-t-t-oy on the planet-t-t-t-t. Like, f-f-fucking h-h-hell that Suh-suh-stronic Duh-drei ggguhhhggghhhuugbbbg!
You can swallow two ben wa balls and then shoot them out of your vagina while squirting simultaneously. You have no idea how that’s even possible, but it prolly has something to do The Giant Butt Plug.
You’ve considered the merits of adding glitter to his body butter instead of leaving a bucket of the stuff over the door because you understand the importance of staying power.
What? What’s wrong with body butter?
You think a gag reflex is a type of energy drink.
Your pubic hair has stopped even bothering to grow, but only until he comes at you with the knotted flogger, at which point it sprouts instantaneously and resentfully.
Does every pubic hair have its own brain? Yup. You know it’s true.
Domly types no longer crowd around you at the snack table at parties. They hide underneath it using cupcakes as camo gear. “ ‘Hey Hoot, why do you do it man? What, you some kind of brat junkie?’ You know what I’ll say? I won’t say a goddamn word. Why? They won’t understand that it’s about the men next to you, and that’s it. That’s all it is.”
At least one of your buzzy toys has defected into an alternate dimension with all the missing socks. The phone chargers didn’t go with, though. Sorry.
Your ass has told you to go fuck yourself.
That sounds hot to you.