I made eye contact with a gentleman with snow white hair, and only the slightest of nod in recognition as I passed them and went to a booth at the end...of the row. It didn;t take long I heard someone enter the booth next to me and as I dropped a few tokens into the machine I stroked my sloly hardening dick and waited to see if my offering had been accepted. Oh yesss, in seconds a the head of a penis presented itself at the Gloryhole, just hung there and I dropped to my knees so I could worship. I was purchased after my death, apparently. Wholesale. The god of my world had a chosen people and I wasn’t one of them. I don’t resent him for it. He didn’t throw me into some kind of hell. Apparently The Company was some kind of interdimensional entertainment corporation. I didn’t really love the idea of being someone’s sex doll or action figure, but they assured me that hardly anyone actually wanted someone who wasn’t happy to be there, and they typically used the souls of serial rapists for. More

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