I allow him to dunk them slowly in my mouth, as if he were a caring parent using his asscheeks to squeeze a pea-sized amount of toothpaste onto a toothbrush. The cat sees this godforsaken event, and in its disgust knocks the lamp off the table onto my paw. Ow! my groan of pain muffled by some really gaudy old man balls sweating into my throat. I bite down hard in pain, which sets off a chain of remarkable events. As I begin to taste the sweet sticky secretion of spunk with the iron tinge of blood, the owner of this dreadful sack begins a panicked dance around the room, the fright of which causes me to bite down again on the now double dangle balls using my lengthy canines. He fears he may become a eunuch for all eternity as he reaches for a frying pan.

I am dog