Work Text:
It calls to me. It calls me to worship, my beautiful leader, my magnum opus, my muse. It calls to me to worship. Its mouth wraps around me, it gives a warm soft kiss to my skin, to my chest, to my hips. It kisses me all over like I’m a patron saint.
The praise it gives me feels like fire in my chest, the words wrap around my heart squeezing it as it goes. The words so soft they start to feel like feathers caressing me all over. It’s hands wrap around me as if I’m a beauty beyond recognition and only it can see through me.
Its eyes gaze into my own as if seeing my every thought, I feel dirty, I feel gross, but it cleanses me even after seeing my thoughts of it all laid out like a dinner. It eats my thoughts and me along with them, the feeling is tremendous, I feel lucky to be able to worship it as it does everything it does to me.
Before long I feel the heat in my chest starting to fall to my abdomen, my body starts to jerk and jolt, I whine every time its hands stop touching me. It says endearing things to me, things that make the heat grow hotter and myself grow restless and needy. I mutter out pleas and begs for more, you tell me what to do and I listen like a dog. For you I’d be anything, I’d do anything you asked because I knew you knew what you were talking about. You put me on my knees where I happily sit and do as you ask. Spit and other fluids fill up my mouth as I do what you tell me. My mouth floods with the sticky substance as I swallow as I’m told. It then tells me to turn over, once I do all the gentleness from before dissipates, it treats me like an object, like I’m a toy to be used for nothing but what it wants.
I’d never complain though, I love it, I love every second, and I need more. I plead for more. It shoves my face into the pillow as I claw at the sheets for some type of leverage to keep myself held together, my body feels like it’s falling apart. I need more, its hand on the back of my neck feels like fire. I need it to burn me, my insides are burning and gushing and melting all over it. It uses me until it’s done and I live every second of it. It’ll be the death of me and I’ll let it happen, I’ll stay on my knees until they bruised if they asked. I will be your one man cult, I’ll worship you as you please.