I sniff ALL my followers' butts to check their diets. These bots really need more fibre

I practice negative visualisation. If I praise that skunk's pants, he will: say "check out what's underneath"; drop trou; rip a facemelter into my eyes; send me nose-first into his rose-wilting cheeks; and torture me to death over the course of hours. Preparation is winning.

Reece is the type of guy to penetrate through your body and spirit with a lobotomitically rotten face-fart, and, without even throwing a glance at your dribbling, thought-blasted husk, have the gall to tell you that "you're welcome".

How to cope as a rimslave: picture a desert island. That clammy heat's just the balmy sun! That's not your tongue lapping at his grimy pucker! It's the waves lapping against the shore. That buzzing of the flies that won't go away... the smell... that bitter taste... is paradise.

he chose "double".

using my intellectual prowess to gab my way out of this 'tongue the most rancid butthole in the world' contract I signed with the devil when I was drunk last night but I'm put on the spot and all I can come up with is "double or nothing?"

I like my balls like I like my sushi. Covered in sweat and hair and just smelling completely rancid and just sitting in my mouth. Actually I've never had sushi

The olfactory system is fine tuned to sense hazards. It doesn't have a clear solution for what to do when a bully sits on your face and unloads as many hazards as last night's bean burrito can generate

Nose deep in some loser's rancid crack and *he's* complaining about the smell. Life's not fair

💛🤍🤎🖤 Folks, don't we love getting swallowed and then after a few moments inside, realising it's hot and cramped, and asking if it's not too late to pull out, and oh God, they're not listening, I don't wanna be ass fat, please, no, this can't be how it ends, I—

It's a nightmare, having a stink fetish while also being prissy about bad smells. I spend my days writhing and whining against the most rotten of cracks