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>Be a microwave oven in Starlight’s kitchen.
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>Breakfast time, motherfucker.
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>The mare in question walks over to you, holding up the leftovers of last night’s dinner.
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>It’s a mess of rise, veggies and spicy sauce.
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>Doesn’t even sprinkle water onto it.
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>She likes it rough and dry, it seems.
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>She hums quietly to herself as she opens up your door.
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>Suddenly you feel so very exposed.
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>Without a care in the world, she puts the food inside and closes you again.
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>She pushes your buttons.
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>beep_boop.mp3
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>This lady always seems to do that.
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>Your plate starts spinning and much like a bitch in heat, you feel your insides warm up, excitement growing.
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>And this isn’t even the grill setting.
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>rock_hard.psd
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>Of course you are. You’re made of metal!
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>You ponder the possibility of microwaves made of memory foam.
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>You continue heating up the food like the filthy kitchen appliance you are.
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>The finish comes far too soon.
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>big_beep.wav
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>Starlight haphazardly takes her breakfast out of you, leaving you with a strangely empty feeling.
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>tfw ywn be mommy Glimmy’s good little microwave
by karwler
by karwler
by karwler
by karwler
by karwler