[ it's very hard not to hesitate in this case, brows furrowing against the blindfold, tongue flicking out against the curve of the muzzle. many had artistically compared the taste of blood to metal, but there's nothing like what he tastes now; it's cold and sharp of something he knows but can't place and as he tilts forward to draw the tip of it into his mouth, his tongue presses against the underside like he would anyone's cock. the weight is strange and his lips close around it but he doesn't suck, no, he just ducks forward to take more in and then draws back, a mock of what he'd much rather be doing. ]
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