In Too Deep- Episode 14-Serve It Raw

without further delay. Let's begin this week's episode.

of clarity. My mind was trained in the art of deciphering meaning in a malfunctioning state. As much as I felt myself losing control to the drugs. I was still a trained professional. I've been an expert in my field longer than I've been addicted to any narcotic. If anyone was slipping me drugs to fuck me up, I was not going to allow it to happen. I was going to use my psychiatric skills to help my soul cleanse and clear, paving the way for greater clarity. Voices were

surrounding me. They have been all over me. These voices are taking control of my thought. In my drug induced haze, I fought to maintain a grip on reality, determined to uncover the truth lurking in the depths of my mind. I knew the answers were there, tantalizingly close, yet just out of reach. With every ounce of will power, I pushed through the fog, clinging to the hope that clarity

would soon emerge from the chaos that consumed me. When you feel yourself slipping, it's crucial to identify the catalyst that set you on that downward trajectory. Reflecting on the events that led to your current state can help you understand the root cause of your struggles and provide clarity on how to regain control of your life. By recognizing the turning point, you can begin to navigate your way back to stability and find the strength to overcome the

challenges that lie ahead. For me, it was easy. I was a young lady with naughty thoughts that I could not act on. My Daddy, though rarely present, would always steer me in the opposite direction of my urges when he was around. I'm grateful to him for the life I've been able to live, but also resentful for the cravings he would not let me fulfill. March thirteenth, the year twenty twenty, the world was falling apart. We were

told we could not touch. We shouldn't touch. Being forbidden from doing something my entire young life only made me want to touch as much as possible. When faced with expectations and demands to stop. San Francisco the red Light District. For several years, I had been a member of exclusive clubs in this part of town. No stranger to the area,

I had everything I wanted at my disposal. If I wanted to see high end dollar stripping that was available, if I wanted to experience the nasty, smelly and smoky rooms that most others enjoy for their stripping. That option was available as well. I needed my pussy licked or fucked, I could have that. I didn't need to pay for that, of course, but if there was something in particular I was looking for, it was available. My Daddy was not around to forbid me, and I could do whatever I

wanted to. But my profession and upbringing kept me from letting anyone stick their cocks in my pussy or my mouth. As you know, that would happen later, but at this time in twenty twenty, nothing was going inside me. I went down to the dungeon. It was not my first time. I didn't go as frequently as I would in the past several years, but I definitely went occasionally for the For the most part, I kept at Vanilla. I just

wanted to see different people fucking. I always believed that people would judge and frown upon psychiatrists like myself for having normal human desires and urges. Despite dedicating our lives to helping others navigate their mental health, society expects us to be above basic human needs and wants. The stigma surrounding mental health professionals is that we should have it all together. But the truth is we are just as human as everyone else, with the same cravings and yearnings

that make us who we are. If they ever discovered the intensity of our carnal desires, it would shatter the facade of composure we strive to maintain. How could we possibly guide others in controlling their own urges when we ourselves grapple with the same overwhelming yearnings. The mere thought of our innermost cravings being exposed fills us with a sense of dread, for it threatens to unravel the very

foundation upon which we stand. Here's something I'm sure you all are not shocked by if you've been following my story. Psychiatrists love to fuck. Psychiatrists are just as fucked up as anyone else. We just know how to hide it. Throughout my career, there have been moments when I questioned my ability to continue helping others as the weight of

their pain became overwhelming for me to bear. Despite these challenges, I always reminded myself that I entered this profession to make a difference in people's lives, and that knowledge has kept me going even in the most difficult times. It is my duty and passion to provide support and guidance to those who need it most, no matter how heavy the burden may seem. At times. It was my job,

my profession, my love. I needed to find a coping mechanism, and a red light sex district in San Francisco was my drug, and I was definitely addicted. I should have realized I was prone to addiction. I enjoyed the thrill of losing control and the deception that came with it. My addiction to frequenting the red light district differed from drug addiction in that without money or invitations to certain

sexually depraved places, I couldn't indulge. That would be the way to keep things under control and not become a total addict. Drugs don't afford you that choice, because every part of you begins to crave it, not just your sexual organs. On that thirteenth day in March twenty twenty, I opened a door. I would never be the same after I got a taste of what was behind it. Thank you for listening. This is your host, Maximum Jones you are listening to in Too Deep, Chapter fourteen, Serve

It Raw. This is a seventeen episode series, so it is winding down and heating up. Before we can continue, we need to take this quick break for these messages and then we will see you on the other side.

subscriber and supporter to sex Time Stories. You also gain access to bonus content such as Babysitters Diary episodes before they air for the general public. Please consider this and your generosity will be appreciated. All right, if you're ready, let's go ahead and conclude this episode. What is the pleasure you seek this evening? My fine lady. Before giving me directions on which hallway to go down and which door to open, the sharply dressed man at the desk

asked me that question. I told him I wanted to see a man on his knees, mindfolded, hands tied behind his back, rendering him powerless. Then I wanted a big, thick cock shoved in his mouth all the way to the back of his throat, forcing him to gag until either he passed out or began to vomit. His response surprised me. So what would be the ideal body frame and age of the man who will be shoving his cock into the mouth of another man? The concierge asked me,

He won't be a man at all. I said, to his surprise, I am requesting a woman with a big, strong and powerful strap on. I want a woman to shove it in his mouth as he is forced to comply. The concierge smiled at me and said, very well, my fine lady, I'm sending you to Room seventeen. There may be a bit of a weight, but a menu of the finest wines, cheeses, and caviaar are all available for you once you get situated in the room, he said, as he directed an attendant to take me to Room seventeen.

The ch LCD monitor was hoisted onto the wall, playing continuous images of porn. I ordered several glasses of wine over the hour it took before my request was accommodated. In the dimly lit room, a man in his early fifties dressed in a business suit was forcefully dragged in by three masked men. His face flushed with intoxication. He struggled against their grip, but to no avail. They threw him to the floor, his body hitting the ground with

a thud. The masked men swiftly handcuffed his arms and legs, rendering him immobile. To further restrain him, they added an extra cuff to one of his legs, attaching the other end to the wall, ensuring he couldn't escape. The man's eyes darted around the room. A mixture of confusion and fear etched on his face as he realized the gravity of his situation. At first, the man was laughing, thinking this was a joke. He felt no worry whatsoever until

the door opened again. A woman dressed in a business suit disguising herself as a man, stood in front of him. Due to the constraints applied to him, he had no choice but to be on his knees. The woman's sensual dance and strip tease had the man enthralled. His excitement apparent as he cheered and cat called her stunning beauty. Her initial smile at his admiration quickly transformed into a fierce glare as she commanded the three men to bring

forth the apparatus. The atmosphere shifted from tantalizing to tents, foreshadowing the impending mix of pleasure and pain about to unfold in this twisted game of power and desire. They strapped a massive twelve inch dildo onto her body and then applied another layer of straps to make sure it was ironclad. Secure open your mouth and suck at you, fucking bastard, the woman ordered the man as she placed

the head of the dildo around his mouth area. He quickly refused and started yelling for help for someone to free him from the restraints. The three attendants left the room, emphasizing that no one was coming to rescue the man. The woman then violently began slapping his face with a twelve inch cock. As the man took the pain at first, but started to beg her to stop, she didn't stop. Instead, she slapped him even harder than before. The man began whimpering,

but he still would not open his mouth. The woman grabbed him by the hair, yanked his head back, and began slapping him repeatedly with her hands. His face turned beat red as a small gash formed over his right eye. Suck it, you fucking bastard, she yelled at him violently. Finally, the man complied as the massive twelve inch cock dildo entered his mouth, causing him to instantly gag. There you go, who's in control now, you chauvinistic pig, she aggressively said.

After forcing the cock in his mouth, she slowed it down a bit and began to gently push in and out. The man's eyes were widening as he was wondering how much longer this would go on. The woman moved slowly at first, then suddenly thrust it back into his mouth with such force that it must have struck his throat, making him gag violently. She applied the pressure until it looked like the man was choking, and then would yank the big cock out of his mouth to give him

a chance to breathe before shoving it back in. At first, I had to keep pouring myself a glass of wine to endure what I was watching. It was crude and violent, but so erotic at the same time, to see a man brought to his knees by a woman, to see a man powerless at the sexual wishes of a female. I put my hand down my skirt and into my panties and began fingering my clit. I was beyond a rouse. I continued to finger fucking myself until my clid exploded

and I shook on that chair with extreme pleasure. The woman continued for a solid hour, mouth fucking the man until he finally passed out. The three masked men came back into the room, covered the woman with a robe. As she dropped the twelve inch dildo on the ground in front of the man. The three masked attendants took her away, and shortly after they returned to carry the man out of the room. One of the attendants handed me the strap on dildo and whispered to me that

it was mine now. As I approached the check and table to check out, the concierge grabbed the massive dildo, boxing it up for me. To this day, the strap on remains hidden beneath my bed, a secret reminder of the pivotal moment when my craving for depravity became undeniable. Occasion I pull it out, confronting the physical manifestation of my dark desires, a symbol of the depths I've explored in search of clarity and control. I was angry at

my father. He oppressed my sexual desires. His disapproval cast a shadow over my yearning heart, making me question the validity of my own emotions. In his eyes, my desire for affection and tenderness was an aberration, a flaw to be suppressed and hidden away. The weight of his judgment bore down on my soul, suffocating the very essence of my being, until I found solace in the darkest corners of my mind, where my true self could emerge, unashamed

and unapologetic. I couldn't force him to pay, but I could inflict suffering on others. As a psychiatrist, I had disposable income and was willing to pay a price to maintain my own sanity. Over the next several weeks, I frequently returned to the dungeon, requesting the special services. There was one time in particular that I felt I went too far. Or maybe it was the folks running the

dungeon that went too far. From the very beginning, they recognized the kind of individual who would be willing to carry out their intended plans. All along, the sick motherfuckers may have been preying on customers like me who are willing to pay to make the sick wishes of this fucking person come true. In my current drug infused state, in my unconsciousness, I feel like I'm reaching clarity. My memory is crystal clear about the time I went too far.

It's crazy that I had made a request to put people's lives in danger, and I was okay with that. Although no lives were at risk this time, I still overstepped my bounds. I wanted men and women to urinate on a restrained businessman who resembled my father. I gave the concierge a picture of my dad, which I really regret doing now that I think back on it. It

was the same procedure as always. They took me to a room where I was whined and dined until the door opened up and the unsuspecting person was let in. As with these requests, I was masked, so I wasn't afraid to look him in the eye. I never forget the look he gave me. That horny motherfucker thought he was going to get some of my ass. He had no idea what was about to happen to him. He would carry a humiliation for the rest of his life

because of me. I would psychologically fuck this person up forever. Isn't that some depraved shit? By day I listen, calm, attentive, professional, they sit across from me, pouring out their pain, their secrets, their fragile truths. I nod, prescribe repair. But when the night folds in, I become something else. I twist mines, pull at the threads of ego, leave them unraveling in quiet torment. My power is precision, my guilt non existent.

I heal by daylight, destroyed by moonlight. One face for mercy, one for madness. People poured into the room, one after another, a constant stream, each stopping to stand over him or squat as they urinated on him. There was one particular woman that squatted directly over his mouth as her hand held his jaw tight so that his mouth remains open. Drink it, you piece of shit, Drink it. She yelled as a heavy flow of urine entered his mouth and

my hand entered my panties. I massaged my clit frantically as I continued to watch this helpless man get pissed on by people that most likely were way beneath him on a social and economic status level. My fingers on my clip gave me the sensation I was looking for as my body exploded with orgasm. I wasn't done, though, even though my vaginal region was super sensitive because of the orgasm, I kept my fingers digging as I slipped them deeper into my pussy. I was satisfied with the

whole experience and was sure that it was over. To my surprise, it was not. I already had satisfied myself, so my hand was out of my panties and my mind was closed as well. I waited for the masked attendance to show up and remove a man, but every time the door opened, it was another person arriving to urinate on this human being who obviously had enough. I watched intently, and a sense of helplessness began to wash

over me. The feeling was unpleasant. I was responsible for what happened to the man lying on the ground before me. I had asked for this and was getting it, but now I wanted it to stop. I was not a monster. I needed to control my emotions. Watching these acts of depravity was not going to make me mentally stronger. It was not going to erase my past. To move forward, I had to let go. It's enough already. Please stop

and let him go, please, I screamed. As the door finally opened, three men entered and dragged his urine soaked body out of the room. As he was pulled away, he shouted in my direction, thank you. That was the end of my special request for a while, as I instead decided to just frequent the exclusive strip clubs that I had access to in the Red Light district. As much as I needed to do this, I really should

have done is stopped. While I was ahead in my relentless pursuit of self discovery, I found myself drawn to the allure of unexplored territories. Each cracked door a tantalizing invitation to unre ravel the mysteries that lay beyond. Yet, as I crossed each threshold, I unwittingly unleashed a Pandora's box of complications forever altering the trajectory of my existence.

With every step forward, I ventured deeper into the labyrinth of my own desires, each turn leading me further away from the familiar and closer to the point of no return. Thanks for listening everyone. This is Sex Time Stories. I am your host, Maximum Jones, and we are presenting Into Deep episode fourteen entitled Serve It Raw. Our story will continue, but first we need to break out for these messages. We will see you on the other side. This is Sex Time Stories. I am your host, Maximum Jones.

contributing to our show. For just two dollars a month, you can become a pain subscriber and supporter to Sex Stories. You also gain access to bonus content such as Babysitters Diary episodes before day air for the general publack. Please consider this and your generosity will be appreciated.

I won't waste time repeating myself. I will admit that I'm in this situation because I admired her courage, resourcefulness, and professionalism in doing what was necessary to survive. I also admired the comfort she had in her naked body. In the privacy of my own space, I sought solace in the reflection that gazed back at me, yearning to find beauty in the vulnerability of my bare form. Yet

each imperfection glared at me. A relentless reminder of the flaws that society had etched into my psyche, fueling the insatiable desire to attain an unattainable ideal. I longed for the day when I could stand before the mirror, free from the shackles of self doubt, and embrace the unique essence that defined my existence, unapologetically and without hesitation. Discovering that my right breast was slightly misaligned with my left one sent me into a spiral of self consciousness. I

constantly thought about my deformity. I vowed never to let anyone see me naked, afraid they would notice my misshapen breast. At the time, this thinking didn't seem irrational. There Buttercup was on that stage with her big bouncy breast and perfectly trimmed vagina, with that bouncy ass, totally comfortable. I was a weird science kid. My dad preached the books, but never talked about the body. I was confused. I

needed help. Although I couldn't find solutions to my own problems, I decided to dedicate my life to helping others solve theirs. Now I'm up on the pole like it's nothing. I craved this moment for so long, but now I have an empty feeling. I'm currently content with my body, but my mind is struggling. Without a healthy mind, the stripping I desired to do loses its significance. Before these present times,

there was a situation that ended badly for me. I may have blocked it out of my mind, but that doesn't mean it didn't exist. If I remember correctly, it was twenty twenty two. That was the last time before currently that another man put his hands, mouth and cock on and in me. I had partied all night in the Red light district. I stumbled home drunk as a skunk and horny as fuck. I thought I was too good to let any of the men in the district put their cocks inside me, even though all of them

were wealthy, both economically and socially. I was staying in a condominium at the time. It's one of the best in the city. The restaurant is open twenty four hours a day, and we get any type of service at the complex that we need any time of the day. As I headed to the elevator, I saw our maintenance man, Carlos, attending to one of the other residents. I was a psychiatrist, and he was a maintenance man, so I didn't take much of what Carlos did seriously not to offend any one,

but he simply wasn't in my league. I got up to my room, got undressed, and was walking around with my bra and panties. I have made the decision to play with myself, but for some reason, I was putting that off. I was so horny that night, simply touching wasn't going to do the trick. That's when a little devil in my head appeared and convinced me to do the obvious. Hello, I'm calling from Unit two thousand one and I have an overflowing sink that needs immediate attention, please.

I remained in my underwear, anticipating the arrival of a virile man at my door. I knew the temptation of what I offered would be irresistible to him. To my surprise, Carlos was a total professional who focused solely on the non existent clogged sink, showing no interest in anything else. I'm sorry, miss, but there is nothing wrong with any

of your sinks, he said, confused. I was walking around in my bra and panties, but he never looked at me up and down until I stood in front of him and said, I noticed you this evening by the elevator. I never noticed how handsome you are until tonight, I said, licking my lips and looking at him with passion. Look, miss, I have a wife and two kids, and I need this job. I think you've had too much to drink,

and you don't know what you're saying right now. I'm going to respectfully leave and pretend none of this has happened, Carlos said, staying true to his convictions. This made me want him even more. He mentioned his wife. He was a loyal man. If I could get this committed, hard working man to desire me and take me, I would feel empowered beyond any words. All of this was so wrong. I was a white collar professional. He was a blue collar man who could never enter my world. But because

I had an AMA whence need to be humbled. I needed this to happen. I thought I could break him by making him feel guilty for rejecting me. I began to weep uncontrollably. I placed my hands on his shoulders before hugging him and burying my head on his chest. Continuing this desperate act. He hugged me back, falling for it, and assured me that everything would be okay. I separated from his body, looked him in the eyes and begged him to let me at least suck his cock. No

one will ever know. I told him, you deserve to once in your life have a woman like me on my knees with your cock in her mouth. I looked at him directly in the eyes and said please. I dropped to my knees in front of him and pulled down his pants, but he just stood there doing nothing. He remained standing firm, and I could feel the guilt pouring out of his body. But I could also feel the heat, as this was something prior to this moment, he could only dream of. The scent of his sweat.

The musk of a hard working man filled my nostrils as I lowered his underwear, exposing his manhood. The aroma was intoxicating, a heady mix of pheromones and raw masculinity that sent shivers down my spine. I couldn't help but be turned on by the primal nature of it all, the sheer, animalistic allure of a man who had labored and toiled his body glistening with the fruits of his efforts.

It was in that moment, as I drank in the scent of him, that I knew I was lost to my own desires, a slave to the passion that coursed through my veins. I took him into my mouth, eliciting a sigh of relief as he surrendered to my sensual touch. I gently massaged his balls as I took his cock in and out of my mouth. He loudly expressed his continued pleasure. What he did next took me by surprise. He yanked his cock out of my mouth, then stood in front of me with a manic look in his eyes.

His urges overpowered his brain, and he knew he had to seize this once in a lifetime opportunity right now, or risk losing it forever. He ripped my braw off, literally ripped it off, and then savagely took his mouth to each of my breast, sucking and licking them as he had never tasted something so sweet. He didn't spend much time on them as he lowered his face to my crotch and with his teeth, bit off my panties,

exposing my pussy as he began sloppily licking it. His eagerness and loss of control were incredibly arousing to me. He took me to the ground and removed the remains of my ripped panties as he then spread my legs wide open before forcing his cock in me and fucked me hard and fast. All that I had worked for, the college, the accreditations, the professional reputation, and I was on my back letting the maintenance man fuck me with no commitment or fear of consequences, all because I sought

the feeling of humbleness. I hope this experience would help me move on from my kinky lifestyle. I had to

pause and admire the sheer physicality of it all. I literally watched him moving around like an unleashed animal as a dug his cock deep inside me while making a loud assortment of grunts and groans as I was getting the shit fucked out of me, almost literally come inside me, you worthless motherfucker, I taunted him, relishing the anger that flashed across his face as he paused his fingers dug into my hips with a fierce grip, and he plunged into me with a force that took my breath away.

His powerful thrusts were driven by a primal need, a desire to claim me completely. I could feel the intensity of his passion as he moved within me, each stroke deeper and harder than the last. He knew he could lose everything, his job, his wife, his kids, and last but not least, his personal freedom. Yet there he was, fucking me like I would be the last piece of ass he would ever have. He gripped my hips firmly

as I held onto his shoulders. With a deep thrust, he buried his cock completely, crying out in ecstasy as he released everything he had. As he finished, his breathing was labored while he gazed upon my exposed figure, The realization of his actions finally sinking in his eyes traced the curves of my body, and in that moment, the

gravity of what had transpired between us became undeniable. The weight of the consequences hung heavy in the air, a thick tension that seemed to stretch on endlessly, leaving us both to grapple with the aftermath of our passionate encounter. My smile stretched wide, filled with happiness. In a moment I was humbled. He hastily put on his clothes and left through the door without saying a word. I wasn't expecting his reaction to be like that. Carlos ended up

missing the next week of work. I'm sure he was scared that a woman like me might turn the tables on him and cost him everything. Little did he know he was of no importance in this equation. I wasn't looking to harm him. I was looking to harm myself. If this played out the way I envisioned, I would be left with an indelible reminder of my transgression, a permanent mark etched into my flesh, symbolizing the depths of

my mistake. It would be a constant companion, whispering my shame and regret with every glance in the mirror, a painful yet necessary testament to the consequences of my actions, forever emblazoned on my body and soul. I knew what I was doing. I knew this man was just working to support a wife and family. Yet there I was using him to ground me. Although Carlos and I were never meant to be together, I desired one outcome from

my actions with him. I was driven by a desperate need to validate my father's beliefs, to show him that his words held weight in my life. In my pursuit of this twisted sense of approval, I used Carlos, knowing full well the consequences of my actions. I ignored the truth that he was just a man trying to provide for his family, and instead I allowed myself to be consumed by the desire to prove my father right, no matter the cost to myself, health, or those around me.

I wanted a constant reminder that my loose ways would cost me my lifestyle and my own personal freedom. A month later, I wanted my personal prison sentence to reveal itself. I escaped unscathed yet again, despite my hopes for a different outcome. No punishments, no lifetime reminders, nothing. I never saw Carlos again. By the way, it's unfortunate that he likely requested a transfer. Even a glimpse of him might have reminded me of how out of control I was.

I found an old new chapter to get into, and that's all that happened. This is Maximum Jones, and you are listening to sex time stories as we present Chris Carroll's in Too Deep, Chapter fourteen, Servet Raw, the kinky psychiatrist, is going through her own psychosis currently as she tries to get past the haze of drug ugs for clarity of what's really happening around her. Remember this is a

seventeen chapter series, so things are definitely heating up. We are going to continue our story, but first we need to break for these messages, and then we will see you on the other side. Let's go ahead and continue as well as conclude Chris Carrol's Into Deep chapter fourteen. Back to the Dungeon it was, but this time with more purpose. If things were meant to be and I couldn't stop myself no matter how hard I tried, then I would go all out. I would alternate between this

strip clubs and the Dungeon. The early evening hours would be dedicated to watching the beautiful and hypnotic dancing of Buttercup, and then in the evening I'd be off to the Dungeon to gain clarity. I need to delve into Buttercup's story as she represents a link between my past and my current connection to the Wolfman. I must remember this when I wake up. As I descended into the depths of the dungeon. My requests grew increasingly twisted and perverse.

I hoped that by indulging in these depraved desires, I would eventually reach a point of utter disgust with myself. It was my desperate attempt to shock my system back into a state of normalcy, to break free from the chains of my twisted obsession. Perhaps if I could repulse myself enough, I would finally find the strength to pull my own plug and escape the tangled web of darkness that had ensnared my soul. I repeatedly add asked for

one naughty experience after another. Girls dressed like men fucking each other, men dress like girls fucking each other BDSM in all forms, whether it be straight or gay sex, I didn't care. I wanted to see someone getting hurt. Beastiality is disturbing, an aberrant behavior. The time I saw a girl get a whole fist in her ass while someone dressed as a sheep was pulling her hair and spitting in her mouth, it was that moment that almost got me to throw up the surrender flag. I didn't, though,

I kept coming back for more and more. It was never enough. There was always void, and it couldn't be filled, no matter how kinky and raunchy. The experiences I paid for were that I heard him the scary, creepy laugh. Jemmy followed me home, and I was scared for my life. I should have kept walking or even run in the opposite direction to avoid hearing his laugh the voices. When I met the wolfman, I had reached a point where I started to fantasize about participating in some of what

I was watching, including stripping. Then the thing I did to Buttercup for my own deprived pleasure. That thing I did, it fucked me up forever, more than I could have ever imagined. Discovering that she was a single mother caring for a sick mom and a young daughter changed me forever an innocent little girl. And here I am, in current times, lusting after a man I don't even know. I can hear his laughter. The voices are surrounding me again.

told him I didn't want that to happen anymore. I told him that how did I even get up here? How did I even get up here? On instinct, I continued to dance, giving crowd what they want, and what they wanted was to see me touch my pussy. I took two fingers, kept my back bent over, and shoved them into my pussy, intending to fuck myself hard, and then put those two fingers back in my mouth and show them that I was nasty and the best fucking

stripper they had ever seen. As soon as my first finger went inside me, I felt excruciating pain and soreness. Then a large amount of discharge leaked out of my pussy. As I looked down at it dripping, I felt my body get hot. As my fingers went away from my pussy, I got dizzy, and I just remember hearing a loud thud as the Wolfman's laughter filled my head. As I lay there, my consciousness fading, I wondered if this was the end. Perhaps I was already dead and these final

moments were just echoes of a life once lived. The pain and dizziness consuming me could be the last flickers of my mortal existence as my soul prepared to depart, The Wolfman's laughter, haunting and cruel, might be the devil's welcome to the afterlife. In this liminal space between worlds, I pondered the mysteries that awaited me beyond the veil of death, ready to embrace whatever fate had in store. Thankfully, eyes opened again, The room was dark, The door creaked open,

and there he stood in all his primal glory. His naked form glistened in the dim light, every muscle taut with barely contained power. In his hand, he gripped an eleven inch cock, a symbol of his raw, animalistic nature. As my eyes closed once more, I felt a shiver run down my spine, caught between my fear and forbidden desire, knowing that this encounter would forever change the course of my existence or take me to the afterlife. With my eyes closed, I can still hear what's going on around me.

I can hear the howls multiple men as I fade again into complete darkness.

get closer to its shocking conclusion. Please consider becoming a paid subscriber to sex Time Stories that will help us out tremendously. We appreciate all of you all listening worldwide as our listeners mean so much to us. A million thanks to all that's going to do it. For this episode. This is your host, Maximum Jones, reminding you to always enjoy yourselves, Take care, and we will see you on Thanksgiving Night for episode fifteen. Stick your Teeth in Me.