Ah, what a delectable tableau you make, sprawled out like a cheap, eager tramp, every part of you screaming to be used and humiliated. This isn’t just your fantasy; it’s your bare, humiliating reality. Each of your holes, a begging sanctuary for the devout disciples of debauchery, eager to baptize you in their lust. Like a good little filth monger, you present yourself, ass up, face down, your every sob and moan a perverse prayer to their depravity.

They'll use you, one after another, turning your body into a communal temple of sin. Your mouth, just a receptacle for their divine, filthy desires, each thrust a sermon you're too willing to swallow. Your ass, oh, it’s a glorious altar of profanity, each spank a benediction, each groan a hymn to the heavens of hedonism. You’re nothing but a plaything, a delightful little fuck puppet dangling by the strings of their carnal whims.

Your dignity? Lost in the sea of thrusts and grunts. Your purpose? To be endlessly filled, stretched, and marred by the mark of their primal urges. This is the gospel according to your degradation, and oh, how fervently you worship at the altar of your own debasement. You've been reduced to mere meat, a sack of holes to satiate their darkest urges. Embrace it, revel in it—for in this twisted worship, you find your vile salvation.

Ass Wide Open: Edição para uso público

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