No, of course I'm not trying to trick you. I just want to know your dirty little secrets. I want to see inside your warped mind. I want to take you deeper into your own depravity. I get your secrets, and you get quality counseling from an expert in sexual perversion. What could go wrong? If you feel nervous, just take a shot (or a bump, or a hit, whatever you do to break those pesky inhibitions), take a breath, and let your lips loose.

I want you to show me your secrets. Take a photo. Record a video. Make a voice recording. Send it to me. My hands are the best place for these risky...

No, of course I'm not trying to trick you. I just want to know your dirty little secrets. I want to see inside your warped mind. I want to take you deeper into your own depravity. I get your secrets, and you get quality counseling from an expert in sexual perversion. What could go wrong? If you feel nervous, just take a shot (or a bump, or a hit, whatever you do to break those pesky inhibitions), take a breath, and let your lips loose.

I want you to show me your secrets. Take a photo. Record a video. Make a voice recording. Send it to me. My hands are the best place for these risky bits of business.

But wouldn't it be exhilarating to accentuate these secrets with a slathering of fear? Each and every dark story could be that much sweeter, so much juicier, if I injected them with the shivering rush of the possibility of being exposed. It would be like super-charging your most intense fetishistic urges, wouldn't it?

Give them to me. Place them in my mouth. Let me chew on them. See how deep you can dive with me.

Trust me.

Take another hit.