one night at flumpty's sexualized

Inmou is a term that has gained popularity in online communities, often associated with niche interests and specific fandoms. Whether used in discussions or creative works, it reflects a deep engagement with certain subcultures. Understanding its context can provide insight into how internet trends evolve.

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.

“Waddya think?” Carol said, putting aside her tools and returning her attention to playing with my cock. She wrapped her lips around the head of my cock and swirled her tongue around it. Her other hand tugged at my balls. The fresh shave made it that much more sensitive. My dick did look bigger. And thicker for some reason. Carol slowly swallowed my cock until it hit the back of her throat. She gagged slightly, then pulled her head off.