(Read with fervor!)
Gathered among us here today are sinners of every creed. The spiritually slothful, those lusting for money, food, fame, or power. An overindulgence of desire!
We have the envious, who, when faced with their maker shall have their eyes sewn shut with wire because they have gained sinful pleasure from seeing others brought low. Yet, the original, the most serious, the source of all sins, is lacking in its devotees. It is a sin that must and can be bolstered among us. A sin so powerful, it spun Lucifer into Satan. What boastful trespass do I entice? Well, it is none other than pride, my friends.
Pride. Not that you shall provide failed acknowledgments to others, nor exhibit vainglory to your neighbors or to your mirror. Nay, I exhaust a pride in one’s work in the venereal arena! An earned pride that causes both an external AND internal grin when you are wiping the cum from your lips, when you’ve chosen to suffer great neck strain in order to finish the job in lieu of throwing in the towel. Pride, dear friends, in knowing you have brought an old man (a very old man) into ecstasy. Pride in knowing you have brought confidence to a young man (a very,very young man) by bringing him comfort when he’s blown it before his pants are even down. When he hasn’t been with a woman for years. When he’s got herpes. When he’s ashamed of his size, be it his member or his weight.
Shame and pride are but one embrace apart. I’ve sensed a man’s reluctance to shed clothing, but more imprisoning, his reluctance to shed fear. In a beat, I see his eyes cast down, his ego shrinking now that we are alone behind closed doors. In that moment, my blood fills with potent pride. I’ve walked on a stage where my role demands I leave him reveling in glory and vanquishing his shame. It is not time to coddle. It is time to breath heavy and shred his clothes, undaunted by all the awful messages I can feel pushing through his skin like braille made of sewage. My pride wipes his skin’s slate clean, and inks in pleasure, an esteemed permanent mark of satisfaction and achievement.
When my shiny body lifts to show him what he’s had, I’ve watched that man walk out my door, his trousers wet where his cock ends and his head held a foot higher than when he entered my home, anxious but willing.
A pride that can be carried without hubris is not a contradiction. Rather, it is a work ethic worthy of praise, worthy of God’s open gates. Let the penitents be not burdened with stone slabs on their necks, keeping their heads bowed (unless they are a sub, then by all means bow your head deeply).
Pride be thus the deadliest of sins, but the most pleasurable if shared with good deeds in mind. If I am but one sinner whose pride exudes the deadliest of all sins, then join me so we can help those in need of rapture and exultation, while we fall into the arms of euphoric damnation. Amen!