THE DISPENSER
You kneel there on the table as you have for hours, your hands cuffed to your ankles, your shoulders resting on a shelf, your neck through the stocks. You try to look away again from the clock that has been your tormentor for so many hours, but they are everywhere, a clock to your left, another to your right, one just inches in front of you, even one placed under the glass table, all tick tick ticking away as if singing some evil song of what’s to come.
It’s time again and right on cue you hear the quiet click as The Dispenser adds a little more to your torment and you remember when Master first brought you down to see his new creation...
It was an old 1950's gum ball machine, one of the huge ones that stood on its own in toys stores and department stores, dispensing joy and fun to all. But your Master modified it to bring only pain and misery. Below the bowl, where once a silver crank sat, now there sits a mass of clockwork topped by a single exposed clock face, like some mask worn by a rapist. Where the dispensing chamber once was there now runs a sinister ribbed black plastic hose, its end covered is covered by a long black rubber balloon.
"This is The Dispenser; do you know what it does?" Was all your Master asked you. Shaking your head no he motioned for you to come over and get on the table. Shaking in fear you started towards him, you knew there was no escape, but the fear of this new diabolical device and its unknown torture threatened to make you collapse. You remember being locked into your position, your shoulders getting sore quickly from resting almost all your weight on them. You remember the feeling as he spread the cold lube on your ass working it in, gently pressing his finger inside you, finger fucking your ass for a few minutes, it was almost enough to make you forget The Dispenser, almost. He was gentle as he pressed the narrow hose into your ass pushing it in only a couple inches before stopping. Oddly though he had strapped it in place holding it barely inside your rectum.
With a click he turned it on and....nothing. Had something gone wrong you wondered. Your Master though did not step up to correct it. You kneeled there wondering what was happening when suddenly you heard it. Click. You felt a gentle vibrating sensation in the tube but almost as soon as it started it stopped and a small object dropped into the end of the balloon.
It was then that the realization dawned on you and the terror truly began. The bowl, it had still been filled over half-way with gum balls. In terror your mind began to race. How often will it let one go? How long will he keep me here? How many gum balls will he let fill me? How many are in The Dispenser?
That was hours ago. Since then, the clocks that at first aided you warning you when the next 5 minute interval and the next marble would drop but as more and more filled your rectum and then colon, pressing your stomach outwards filling you like a twisted pinata, they simply became your tormentors telling you how soon another gum ball would be crammed into the tube. Click, another Gum ball is forced out, you feel as it does, the whole mass shift momentarily to make room for the newcomer. You would scream if it would do any good, you would cry if there were any tears left, you would even beg if it would do any good because you know no one will help you. No one except him, your Master, the man who built this device, who put you here, and you know that. But you will still be grateful when he comes to release you, to take away the evil tormentor, from The Dispenser.
Now you just wait shuddering in torment waiting for him to step out of the darkness where he watches from and release you.
Click
Maybe this time he'll come.
....
....
....
....
....
Click
Or this time.
@GPrime85 Here is part of the problem: lack of raw skill. In those days the artists grew up wanting to be artists and spent their childhood drawing or watching animation or later on, studying animation. Now they spend their childhood playing video games and watching shit tok or YouTurd.
@Grummz "AI" is a very sophisticated aggregation engine. It takes existing data, filters, sorts and takes a variable average based on the parameters requested. Where the illusion if intelligence comes from is the ability to create those parameters from a vague prompt.
@Pirat_Nation The future is simple. You are going to have studios of a handful of guys using AI to make games but iteratively. They will make, play, improve/add to the game so the final version is actually the 50th version of a game refined by the team via playthrough.
@SarahisCensored We don't have to live like this. It is time for CIVILIZED People to start standing up and clearing this up on our own. The government won't so it falls to the people to do what those in power are to cowardly to do. Rise up people and take back our civilization.
@jaja_007_7@nypost Yeah because no Asian, Black, Hispanic, Semitic, or Native American has ever owned a dog or a cat, only White people have pets. Grow up. Cats are the problem btw, not dogs, dogs go outside and will not step in feces. If they wipe their butt on the carpet means they have worms