He had a name once. Maybe. He probably had coherent thoughts at some point too. Thoughts that didn’t involve “I wanna cum” or “I’m gunna cum again!” But that was neither here nor there.
He’d lost all that some time ago. Probably around his thirteenth orgasm on the second day. He was cut off from his surroundings. From his body. He had no idea what was going on down there from day to day. Just that it didn’t seem to ever stop. And those few times when it did, he longed for it to start again.
It became his whole world. He didn’t understand the why. He didn’t need to, he just needed to get off. All the time.
He was just a cog, a part of a bigger machine. He didn’t even care about that. It wouldn’t have mattered if he did. There was no escaping his predicament. Just riding wave after wave of intense climaxes until he wept and his cock spasmed fruitlessly to the pumping of uncaring machinery.
***
Hey. Remember me? I draw porn. Have some porn. Two at once!
And yea, 24600 looks kind of lost in his portrait. Who knew that horniness and climaxes made people stupid.
Oh wait. We’ve always known that.



