benson's bad wording

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.

“Because I was like you when I was young. My ego was as great as my powers, and I did awful things because I thought right and wrong didn’t apply to me. Then, when I was finally put on the right path and looked at myself, the guilt was unbearable, eating away at me like a swarm of goblins. My mentor, my predecessor as Light’s Emissary, helped me bear my pain and taught me to carry the guilt instead of dragging it behind me.

“Ohhh…yeah that’s it…” Carol moaned softly. I spread her ass with my hands now, and she rubbed her clit while I ran the flat of my tongue across her clenching anus. I wiggled the tip of my tongue against her anal opening, trying to work my way inside but her sphincter was tight and hard. “Heehee! That tickles!” Carol giggled as I flicked my tongue quickly across her asshole. I stopped the motion. “Don’t stop. Finger my pussy.”