We gathered again — me Bertie, Ava, Mimi, and Julia — to dn my pathetic boyfriend in spit. He already knew what was coming: dropped to his knees in front of the couch, mouth wide open, eyes down like the obedient whore he is. We sat in a row on the couch — four Queens, cigarettes in hand, wicked smirks, mouths full of thick white phlegm. And the flood began.
We hocked all at once, hard and relentless — thick white globs raining down on his face like a storm. Within the first minute his ugly mug was completely coated: a thick layer of our foamy spit and phlegm covering eyes, cheeks, nose, lips, chin. Splat! Splat! Splat! — the only sound echoing through the apartment. He couldn’t even swallow fast enough — spit ran down his neck, dripped onto his chest, pooled on the floor.
We smoked over him, flicked ash straight into his open mouth and onto his face — he caught it on his tongue, coughed, choked, while we laughed louder: “Catch it, loser! That’s your dessert!”
Then we ordered: “Lie down on the floor, face up, scum!” He obeyed, stretched out flat. We sat and continued kept pouring. Ptooey! Ptooey! Ptooey! — our spits echoing everywhere. Thick loads hitting his mouth, eyes, hair. We aimed deliberately: Ava into his left eye, Mimi into his nose, Julia down his throat, me with massive wads of phlegm right on his forehead. His face turned into a shiny, sticky mask — pure white from our divine loogies.
Finally we hauled him back to his knees — shaky, drenched, broken. “Final round, filth,” I said. Each of us stepped up in turn and slowly, savoring it, hawked one huge, stringy load right into his face: the thread of spit hung in the air for a second before slapping onto his tongue or cheek. He swallowed, gagged, tears streaming down mixed with our saliva.
looked

We gathered again — me Bertie, Ava, Mimi, and Julia — to dn my pathetic boyfriend in spit. He already knew what was coming: dropped to his knees in front of the couch, mouth wide open, eyes down like the obedient whore he is. We sat in a row on the couch — four Queens, cigarettes in hand, wicked smirks, mouths full of thick white phlegm. And the flood began.
We hocked all at once, hard and relentless — thick white globs raining down on his face like a storm. Within the first minute his ugly mug was completely coated: a thick layer of our foamy spit and phlegm covering eyes, cheeks, nose, lips, chin. Splat! Splat! Splat! — the only sound echoing through the apartment. He couldn’t even swallow fast enough — spit ran down his neck, dripped onto his chest, pooled on the floor.
We smoked over him, flicked ash straight into his open mouth and onto his face — he caught it on his tongue, coughed, choked, while we laughed louder: “Catch it, loser! That’s your dessert!”
Then we ordered: “Lie down on the floor, face up, scum!” He obeyed, stretched out flat. We sat and continued kept pouring. Ptooey! Ptooey! Ptooey! — our spits echoing everywhere. Thick loads hitting his mouth, eyes, hair. We aimed deliberately: Ava into his left eye, Mimi into his nose, Julia down his throat, me with massive wads of phlegm right on his forehead. His face turned into a shiny, sticky mask — pure white from our divine loogies.
Finally we hauled him back to his knees — shaky, drenched, broken. “Final round, filth,” I said. Each of us stepped up in turn and slowly, savoring it, hawked one huge, stringy load right into his face: the thread of spit hung in the air for a second before slapping onto his tongue or cheek. He swallowed, gagged, tears streaming down mixed with our saliva.
looked

Spit-Fueled Hell
We’re three unstoppable furies: me, Julia, Rebecca, and our ruthless June, wreaking havoc while Bertie’s out partying. Her guy? Pfft, he’s our pathetic trophy, crushed under our feet! We slammed this loser to the floor like a filthy rag. June, the queen of hell, planted her juicy ass on his chest, choking his every breath. Rebecca’s on the left, I’m on the right — we’ve got him locked in our circle of shame, and he knows there’s no mercy coming.
Rebecca kicks off the slaughter with a scream: "Spit on your face, bitch!" — and fires a thick, gooey loogie right into his left eye. Bam! Another hits his right, and his cheeks . We’re cackling like maniacs as his face turns into a frothy white mess of our spit. I jump in: "Take that, loser!" — and hawk a glob so hard his mug becomes a slimy swamp. June, perched like a queen, spits with savage fury, her thick, stringy saliva dripping down his nose and mouth. We don’t stop: we spit nonstop, each glob a punch, flooding his face with rivers of our spit. "Look at him sink !" Rebecca screams, and we’re laughing so hard we can barely stand.

Then come the feet. Six sweaty, stinking soles — our divine feet — grind him into the dirt.
He chokes on the stench of our feet but still tries to lick, whimpering like a beaten dg. Rebecca’s filming, laughing her ass off, toying with the spit in his mouth, slowly sink him like it’s a porn flick. "Spit again!" she roars, hocking another glob, and June and I follow, blasting his face with a fresh wave of thick saliva. We’re howling with laughter, the walls shaking as we mock his sorry state.

June keeps winking: "Girls, he’s hard! He’s hard!" — but we don’t care, we’re too busy obliterating his pride. Six soles crush his face into a slippery mess of our spit and sweat. The finale? We plastered his mug so bad, this sorry loser came right in his pants. And no wonder — June was sitting her ass right on his dick, crushing it with her power. We stand over him, laughing, spitting one last time: "Spit on your face, loser!" This isn’t just humiliation — it’s our triumph, where he’s nothing, and we’re goddesses!

Spit-Fueled Hell
We’re three unstoppable furies: me, Julia, Rebecca, and our ruthless June, wreaking havoc while Bertie’s out partying. Her guy? Pfft, he’s our pathetic trophy, crushed under our feet! We slammed this loser to the floor like a filthy rag. June, the queen of hell, planted her juicy ass on his chest, choking his every breath. Rebecca’s on the left, I’m on the right — we’ve got him locked in our circle of shame, and he knows there’s no mercy coming.
Rebecca kicks off the slaughter with a scream: "Spit on your face, bitch!" — and fires a thick, gooey loogie right into his left eye. Bam! Another hits his right, and his cheeks . We’re cackling like maniacs as his face turns into a frothy white mess of our spit. I jump in: "Take that, loser!" — and hawk a glob so hard his mug becomes a slimy swamp. June, perched like a queen, spits with savage fury, her thick, stringy saliva dripping down his nose and mouth. We don’t stop: we spit nonstop, each glob a punch, flooding his face with rivers of our spit. "Look at him sink !" Rebecca screams, and we’re laughing so hard we can barely stand.

Then come the feet. Six sweaty, stinking soles — our divine feet — grind him into the dirt.
He chokes on the stench of our feet but still tries to lick, whimpering like a beaten dg. Rebecca’s filming, laughing her ass off, toying with the spit in his mouth, slowly sink him like it’s a porn flick. "Spit again!" she roars, hocking another glob, and June and I follow, blasting his face with a fresh wave of thick saliva. We’re howling with laughter, the walls shaking as we mock his sorry state.

June keeps winking: "Girls, he’s hard! He’s hard!" — but we don’t care, we’re too busy obliterating his pride. Six soles crush his face into a slippery mess of our spit and sweat. The finale? We plastered his mug so bad, this sorry loser came right in his pants. And no wonder — June was sitting her ass right on his dick, crushing it with her power. We stand over him, laughing, spitting one last time: "Spit on your face, loser!" This isn’t just humiliation — it’s our triumph, where he’s nothing, and we’re goddesses!

Spit-Fueled Hell
We’re three unstoppable furies: me, Julia, Rebecca, and our ruthless June, wreaking havoc while Bertie’s out partying. Her guy? Pfft, he’s our pathetic trophy, crushed under our feet! We slammed this loser to the floor like a filthy rag. June, the queen of hell, planted her juicy ass on his chest, choking his every breath. Rebecca’s on the left, I’m on the right — we’ve got him locked in our circle of shame, and he knows there’s no mercy coming.
Rebecca kicks off the slaughter with a scream: "Spit on your face, bitch!" — and fires a thick, gooey loogie right into his left eye. Bam! Another hits his right, and his cheeks . We’re cackling like maniacs as his face turns into a frothy white mess of our spit. I jump in: "Take that, loser!" — and hawk a glob so hard his mug becomes a slimy swamp. June, perched like a queen, spits with savage fury, her thick, stringy saliva dripping down his nose and mouth. We don’t stop: we spit nonstop, each glob a punch, flooding his face with rivers of our spit. "Look at him sink !" Rebecca screams, and we’re laughing so hard we can barely stand.

Then come the feet. Six sweaty, stinking soles — our divine feet — grind him into the dirt.
He chokes on the stench of our feet but still tries to lick, whimpering like a beaten dg. Rebecca’s filming, laughing her ass off, toying with the spit in his mouth, slowly sink him like it’s a porn flick. "Spit again!" she roars, hocking another glob, and June and I follow, blasting his face with a fresh wave of thick saliva. We’re howling with laughter, the walls shaking as we mock his sorry state.

June keeps winking: "Girls, he’s hard! He’s hard!" — but we don’t care, we’re too busy obliterating his pride. Six soles crush his face into a slippery mess of our spit and sweat. The finale? We plastered his mug so bad, this sorry loser came right in his pants. And no wonder — June was sitting her ass right on his dick, crushing it with her power. We stand over him, laughing, spitting one last time: "Spit on your face, loser!" This isn’t just humiliation — it’s our triumph, where he’s nothing, and we’re goddesses!

(continuation of A174) ???? Julia and Ava came over to visit, and I (Bertie) decided to properly have fun with my worthless boyfriend.
I walked up, slapped him hard across the face and barked:
“On your knees, you piece of st!”
We locked a heavy collar and leash around his neck, shoved him to the floor and ordered:
“Lie down! Mouth wide open — catch our spit and phlegm! And lick the boots, you filthy dg!”
He obediently stretched out on the black mat. The three of us — me, Julia and Ava — surrounded him in a tight circle.
First I leaned down and let a long thick string of spit slowly drip straight into his open mouth.
Tfuuuu...
Julia immediately added hers:
Tfu!
Tfu-tfu!
Ava laughed and joined in:
Tfu!
We spat without stopping. Powerful, heavy loads echoed through the whole apartment:
TFU! TFU! TFU! TFU!
Thick white spit flew like bullets. He tried to catch it with his mouth, but there was way too much — it fell in huge puddles next to his head, ran down his cheeks, soaked his hair, eyes and nose.
I planted my black patent boot on his face while Julia pressed the heel of her tall red boots into his cheek. Ava stood to the side and kept spitting.
Tfu!
Tfu-tfu-tfu!
His face was already a solid shiny mask of foam and saliva. We laughed so hard tears came to our eyes.
“Tfu, you scum!”
“Tfu, loser!”
“Catch it, you fucking dg!”
He lay there gasping, desperately trying to lick the thick warm clumps from our boots while we furiously kept pouring spit onto his head, into his mouth and over his hair. Rivers of saliva ran across the floor, mixing into massive puddles.
Every single spit hit like a slap. We didn’t pause for a second — three mouths full of sticky phlegm, three cruel smiles, and his body completely soaked in our spit underneath us.

A2011 Four of my girlfriends crashed in — Ava, Rebecca, Julia and Bella.
I, Bertie, dragged my boyfriend into the room. Five goddesses already burning to humiliate my pathetic little bitch.
I put him on his knees right in front of the couch. We sit down — five goddesses in a row. And we start a full-on spit waterfall.
Thick, heavy spit flies non-stop. Ptooey! Ptooey! Ptooey! The sounds echo through the whole apartment.
We spit into his face, into his open mouth, on his eyes, on his hair. Saliva runs in streams. His face and entire head are completely soaked.
He’s choking.
Then we shove our sweaty, stinky feet into his mouth. Red and pink nail polish, wet skin, toes right between his lips. He gags on the feet and our spit at the same time.
Ptooey, you pathetic fucking loser!
We scream with laughter, all five of us, until tears come. And we keep going. Again and again. Spitting, pressing our feet in, watching him take everything without daring to even blink.
His whole face is glistening with our spit. Hair soaked. Mouth full.
Ptooey, you disgusting fucking freak!
Ptooey, you worthless fucking dog!
Ptooey, you ugly fucking slave!
You’re on your knees in front of five goddesses.
You catch our spit with your mouth.
You lick our sweaty feet.
You exist only for this.
Ptooey, you filthy fucking worm!
Look at his face.
Look at how we fucked him up.
Soaked, pathetic, covered in our spit and the stink of our feet.
That’s all that’s left of him.
Ptooey, you pathetic fucking loser!

A2011 Four of my girlfriends crashed in — Ava, Rebecca, Julia and Bella.
I, Bertie, dragged my boyfriend into the room. Five goddesses already burning to humiliate my pathetic little bitch.
I put him on his knees right in front of the couch. We sit down — five goddesses in a row. And we start a full-on spit waterfall.
Thick, heavy spit flies non-stop. Ptooey! Ptooey! Ptooey! The sounds echo through the whole apartment.
We spit into his face, into his open mouth, on his eyes, on his hair. Saliva runs in streams. His face and entire head are completely soaked.
He’s choking.
Then we shove our sweaty, stinky feet into his mouth. Red and pink nail polish, wet skin, toes right between his lips. He gags on the feet and our spit at the same time.
Ptooey, you pathetic fucking loser!
We scream with laughter, all five of us, until tears come. And we keep going. Again and again. Spitting, pressing our feet in, watching him take everything without daring to even blink.
His whole face is glistening with our spit. Hair soaked. Mouth full.
Ptooey, you disgusting fucking freak!
Ptooey, you worthless fucking dog!
Ptooey, you ugly fucking slave!
You’re on your knees in front of five goddesses.
You catch our spit with your mouth.
You lick our sweaty feet.
You exist only for this.
Ptooey, you filthy fucking worm!
Look at his face.
Look at how we fucked him up.
Soaked, pathetic, covered in our spit and the stink of our feet.
That’s all that’s left of him.
Ptooey, you pathetic fucking loser!

(continuation of A174) ???? Julia and Ava came over to visit, and I (Bertie) decided to properly have fun with my worthless boyfriend.
I walked up, slapped him hard across the face and barked:
“On your knees, you piece of st!”
We locked a heavy collar and leash around his neck, shoved him to the floor and ordered:
“Lie down! Mouth wide open — catch our spit and phlegm! And lick the boots, you filthy dg!”
He obediently stretched out on the black mat. The three of us — me, Julia and Ava — surrounded him in a tight circle.
First I leaned down and let a long thick string of spit slowly drip straight into his open mouth.
Tfuuuu...
Julia immediately added hers:
Tfu!
Tfu-tfu!
Ava laughed and joined in:
Tfu!
We spat without stopping. Powerful, heavy loads echoed through the whole apartment:
TFU! TFU! TFU! TFU!
Thick white spit flew like bullets. He tried to catch it with his mouth, but there was way too much — it fell in huge puddles next to his head, ran down his cheeks, soaked his hair, eyes and nose.
I planted my black patent boot on his face while Julia pressed the heel of her tall red boots into his cheek. Ava stood to the side and kept spitting.
Tfu!
Tfu-tfu-tfu!
His face was already a solid shiny mask of foam and saliva. We laughed so hard tears came to our eyes.
“Tfu, you scum!”
“Tfu, loser!”
“Catch it, you fucking dg!”
He lay there gasping, desperately trying to lick the thick warm clumps from our boots while we furiously kept pouring spit onto his head, into his mouth and over his hair. Rivers of saliva ran across the floor, mixing into massive puddles.
Every single spit hit like a slap. We didn’t pause for a second — three mouths full of sticky phlegm, three cruel smiles, and his body completely soaked in our spit underneath us.

A2011 Four of my girlfriends crashed in — Ava, Rebecca, Julia and Bella.
I, Bertie, dragged my boyfriend into the room. Five goddesses already burning to humiliate my pathetic little bitch.
I put him on his knees right in front of the couch. We sit down — five goddesses in a row. And we start a full-on spit waterfall.
Thick, heavy spit flies non-stop. Ptooey! Ptooey! Ptooey! The sounds echo through the whole apartment.
We spit into his face, into his open mouth, on his eyes, on his hair. Saliva runs in streams. His face and entire head are completely soaked.
He’s choking.
Then we shove our sweaty, stinky feet into his mouth. Red and pink nail polish, wet skin, toes right between his lips. He gags on the feet and our spit at the same time.
Ptooey, you pathetic fucking loser!
We scream with laughter, all five of us, until tears come. And we keep going. Again and again. Spitting, pressing our feet in, watching him take everything without daring to even blink.
His whole face is glistening with our spit. Hair soaked. Mouth full.
Ptooey, you disgusting fucking freak!
Ptooey, you worthless fucking dog!
Ptooey, you ugly fucking slave!
You’re on your knees in front of five goddesses.
You catch our spit with your mouth.
You lick our sweaty feet.
You exist only for this.
Ptooey, you filthy fucking worm!
Look at his face.
Look at how we fucked him up.
Soaked, pathetic, covered in our spit and the stink of our feet.
That’s all that’s left of him.
Ptooey, you pathetic fucking loser!

Spit-Fueled Hell
We’re three unstoppable furies: me, Julia, Rebecca, and our ruthless June, wreaking havoc while Bertie’s out partying. Her guy? Pfft, he’s our pathetic trophy, crushed under our feet! We slammed this loser to the floor like a filthy rag. June, the queen of hell, planted her juicy ass on his chest, choking his every breath. Rebecca’s on the left, I’m on the right — we’ve got him locked in our circle of shame, and he knows there’s no mercy coming.
Rebecca kicks off the slaughter with a scream: "Spit on your face, bitch!" — and fires a thick, gooey loogie right into his left eye. Bam! Another hits his right, and his cheeks . We’re cackling like maniacs as his face turns into a frothy white mess of our spit. I jump in: "Take that, loser!" — and hawk a glob so hard his mug becomes a slimy swamp. June, perched like a queen, spits with savage fury, her thick, stringy saliva dripping down his nose and mouth. We don’t stop: we spit nonstop, each glob a punch, flooding his face with rivers of our spit. "Look at him sink !" Rebecca screams, and we’re laughing so hard we can barely stand.

Then come the feet. Six sweaty, stinking soles — our divine feet — grind him into the dirt.
He chokes on the stench of our feet but still tries to lick, whimpering like a beaten dg. Rebecca’s filming, laughing her ass off, toying with the spit in his mouth, slowly sink him like it’s a porn flick. "Spit again!" she roars, hocking another glob, and June and I follow, blasting his face with a fresh wave of thick saliva. We’re howling with laughter, the walls shaking as we mock his sorry state.

June keeps winking: "Girls, he’s hard! He’s hard!" — but we don’t care, we’re too busy obliterating his pride. Six soles crush his face into a slippery mess of our spit and sweat. The finale? We plastered his mug so bad, this sorry loser came right in his pants. And no wonder — June was sitting her ass right on his dick, crushing it with her power. We stand over him, laughing, spitting one last time: "Spit on your face, loser!" This isn’t just humiliation — it’s our triumph, where he’s nothing, and we’re goddesses!

(continuation of A174) ???? Julia and Ava came over to visit, and I (Bertie) decided to properly have fun with my worthless boyfriend.
I walked up, slapped him hard across the face and barked:
“On your knees, you piece of st!”
We locked a heavy collar and leash around his neck, shoved him to the floor and ordered:
“Lie down! Mouth wide open — catch our spit and phlegm! And lick the boots, you filthy dg!”
He obediently stretched out on the black mat. The three of us — me, Julia and Ava — surrounded him in a tight circle.
First I leaned down and let a long thick string of spit slowly drip straight into his open mouth.
Tfuuuu...
Julia immediately added hers:
Tfu!
Tfu-tfu!
Ava laughed and joined in:
Tfu!
We spat without stopping. Powerful, heavy loads echoed through the whole apartment:
TFU! TFU! TFU! TFU!
Thick white spit flew like bullets. He tried to catch it with his mouth, but there was way too much — it fell in huge puddles next to his head, ran down his cheeks, soaked his hair, eyes and nose.
I planted my black patent boot on his face while Julia pressed the heel of her tall red boots into his cheek. Ava stood to the side and kept spitting.
Tfu!
Tfu-tfu-tfu!
His face was already a solid shiny mask of foam and saliva. We laughed so hard tears came to our eyes.
“Tfu, you scum!”
“Tfu, loser!”
“Catch it, you fucking dg!”
He lay there gasping, desperately trying to lick the thick warm clumps from our boots while we furiously kept pouring spit onto his head, into his mouth and over his hair. Rivers of saliva ran across the floor, mixing into massive puddles.
Every single spit hit like a slap. We didn’t pause for a second — three mouths full of sticky phlegm, three cruel smiles, and his body completely soaked in our spit underneath us.