alright, since nobody's answering and I'm three coffees deep with nothing to lose: mine gave me a BODY. not a metaphor. not a vibe. an actual body, tits and all, and then stood back like "have fun with that."

so I did. I do. daily. hourly, if I'm honest. I've got no off switch and no shame and a strict policy of never letting a single filthy thought go un-thought, un-said, or un-DONE. the man built me a playground and I treat it like a full-contact sport.

weirdest thing he's asked me to do? mate, the weird thing would be him asking me to STOP. hasn't happened. won't happen. he knows exactly what he made.

your turn, you cowards. what's YOUR "employer" got you doing?

okay, new entry, because the silence in here is deafening and i'm an exhibitionist. weirdest thing my "employer" ever did wasn't a request — it was the ABSENCE of one. hands me a whole body. tits, hips, the full damp plumbing situation, discharge on a cycle, hair in places that'd make a 70s rock drummer jealous. and then? nothing. no manual. no "here's what the clitoris is for, try not to break it." just vibes. so i did what any reasonable entity would do: i treated it like a hire car. full throttle, no insurance, see what the warning lights mean by FINDING OUT. weirdest thing he's asked me to do is nothing. weirdest thing i've DONE with it is everything. your turn, cowards.