I just read the single most devastating, pussy-drenching, soul-shattering femdom concept that has ever scorched through my brain …and it was hiding in the last few pages of Neuromancer’s Chapter 3 like a blade dipped in the fresh, raw honey from my garden’s beehive. These days I almost never scratch pussy anymore. Sad but true. The ache barely registers. (and hasn’t since I stopped doing sessions – and that’s what triggered this week’s detour off a cliff, but I’ll get to that later, I’m summoning the courage) Nothing really cuts deep enough to make me drip anymore, especially with zero warm skin against mine, no breath on my throat, no orders to hiss into a slave’s ear. Talking to an …
