I was nothing more than a slab of meat laid out on a butcher’s block—helpless, humiliated and left for them to do whatever they pleased. Without hesitation, they lunged at me and began yanking down my pants.
All the while, the steward stood casually by the door, leisurely blowing smoke rings, keeping watch like this was nothing more than a routine operation.
They hoisted me upside down like a sack of trash, arms and legs flailing, face flushed with humiliation. Tommy scanned the dining table, grinning like a maniac as he picked up a spoonful of red chili oil.
“Let me help you out, bro. Time for your castration!”
“AAAH!”
The spicy oil burned like liquid fire as it dripped down my thighs and into places it should never have touched. The searing pain spread through my whole body like electricity. I couldn’t stop trembling.
“Damn, look at him shake. He’s totally into it.”
“Yeah, don’t make him addicted now! What if he comes back tomorrow begging for more chili oil?”
“Well then, guess we’ll just have to satisfy him again, won’t we?”
The steward chuckled at the spectacle, then casually walked over—still smoking—and pressed the burning cigarette straight into my groin.