On a cold, soft surface in a place he has never visited before. A yoga studio.

You awaken on a padded surface, feeling full of energy and refreshed, but the sudden change of locality leaves you confused. Was the whole thing a dream? In the end, will you not get a whole universe of hot bitches willing to suck your uncut, hairy cock? Man, that would have been so rad! And you really deserved it too, with how those cunts used to treat you. It did feel real. Right? Right?

Worried, you open your eyes. The ceiling above you is worn concrete with some stains showing that it has seen less than stellar care. That certainly looks like home. Not really reassuring. Did they lie to you again? It’s just like that one time when your "new" mom promised she would buy you a PlayStation if you would finally stop spying on her. Needless to say, you never became one of the cool kids. But hey, at least while your friends were playing KillZoneFortress 4, you got to see Mommy with her head in her asshole boss' lap. The glean in her eyes when she noticed you watching provided you badly needed fap material for the weeks after you spent grounded. Who knew that your cold, distant ice block of a careerist stepmother would be so good at sucking cock? Almost worth destroying your relationship with her over. Forever.

Painful childhood memories triggered, your fists curl. Some curious mix between of a grunt and a squeal signifies your discomfort. With that disgusting, primal pig noise escaping your lips, you jump up. Impotent rage has always been your trademark and after so many years the constant volcano of hatred broiling within you had the tendency to erupt at random intervals. Which usually led to ridicule, laughter and ostracism. Yeah, yeah. You hated all those jobs anyway. That boss lady had a stick up her ass. A man has his needs. And those bitches in school can all suck your dick.

However, this time, rather atypically, instead of throwing another pathetic fit, you stop dead in your tracks, your guttural scream turning into a confused wince, than a hungry gulp. Then you can’t help but lick your lips. For once in your life, that magical promise wasn’t broken. You finally got what you deserve! (at least that's what you think). All those years dreaming of just grabbing any cunt you want and sticking your cock inside them ... aren't dreams anymore! "BLOWJOB. UNIVERSE. IS. REAL." Fuck! Screaming that on top of your lungs felt good!

Ahem... Alright. Well, you'll get your rocks off soon enough. Inhale, exhale. Back to your surroundings, David. You find yourself in something akin to yoga training room. At least how you imagined it to be. Not that you ever got anywhere near a gym or something even remotely sports-related. Being the scrawny goblin that you are does require strict moderation in such things.

Well, yoga or any other sport (you still aren't sure and don't particularly care, being the ignorant slob that you are), the patrons of this club seem to have stepped off straight off magazine covers, advertisements and movie posters. The selection of faces is a cock-hardening mixture of classical beauties, exotic model looks and slutty bombshells. All body types are represented, each and every one of them is honed to perfection. You watch each impossibly hot chick contort herself like a pro athlete, no matter if she's blade-slender thin or a thick, curvy perfect version of a blonde "MILF" ... That reminds you of that one time when your dad found that one porn DVD you were able to get from a friend. Getting your ass whooped was bad … but losing the smiling blonde on the cover of "Anal Mommies 15: Stuff My Butt, Baby" was worse. And that woman currently arching her back in a semicircle, straining her tight shirt dangerously and showing the world that wearing a bra is optional sure does look like her.

Without a single man in sight, the featureless room is filled with a whole array of model-worthy, gorgeously made up chicks who seem to be either deaf and lacking a sense of smell or totally committed to their exercise. It’s like a grab-bag of the hottest women from all over the world decided to assemble in one room just for that one yoga lesson they desperately need and won't let anything come between it and them. Even a disgusting, scrawny pervert who just appeared in their midst. Some of them look at you disapprovingly, definitely unhappy about some loser slob disturbing their peace, but they don't make a move or call for security like they would normally. Others seem to be doing their best to continue to exercise, exposing their hot bodies to your gaze as they sweat and flex their muscles. Some look at you with a different expression - confusion, awkward smiles and, in some cases, just pure unadulterated lust. You are pitching a tent at this point. And it’s itching for release.