In this club, pleasure is not yours.
Here, air is a privilege — and your body, a tool.
They don’t touch you gently. They go down hard.
And when you moan, they just sit deeper.
Your face is crushed by asses that weigh more than your dignity.
Muffled farts fill your head like poisonous gas.
You cough, choke, cry — but you’re still being used.
Your cock is ignored. Or worse, destroyed.
Aimed kicks between your legs, until cumming becomes a distant memory.
Your mouth becomes a seat.
Your tongue, an anal cleansing toy.
Your throat, the channel for hot pee and forced poop.
The goddesses don’t see you as a man.
You are an object, a functional piece of trash, a repository of fluids, smells and contempt.
They enjoy laughing while you enjoy pain.
And every time you think you’ve hit rock bottom…
They sit tighter.
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