Straight/throat-only *** running for President of Deep-Throat Destruction 2025.
Professional, discreet, zero reciprocation, zero chit-chat.
I show up already clamped, poppers loaded, on my knees the second the door locks.
Your job: fist my hair, ram past my gag reflex, and unload straight down my throat before you head to work. 15–20 minutes max. Longer if you wish i willI swallow every drop, thank you with teary eyes, and disappear until you need stress relief again.
What I bring:
• Trained throat that doesn’t tap out
• Remote estim clamps on my nipples (controlled live by my cruel Dom while you fuck my face)
• Strong poppers and a mouth that drools on command
• Zero drama, zero strings, zero safe-words once you’re balls-deep
What I want:
Aggressive, verbal, straight(ish) guys who treat my throat like a disposable Fleshlight and leave marks I feel all day. Bonus if you make the clamps spike while I ***.
If you can walk in hard, use me ruthless, and walk out calm for your 9 a.m. meeting, vote for me with your ***.
Tell me when and where. I’ll be waiting exactly how I’m told, nipples punished, throat starving.
Position applied for: Official Presidential Cocksucker.
References: the tears and mascara running down my cheeks when you’re done.”
