Tiny Model Snatched From the Screen and Fed to My Starving Asshole Fetish

You thought you could steal my boyfriend and walk away, didn’t you, bitch? One second you were up there on that stupid fashion runway, all perfect hair and smug little model pout, flashing your fake smile to the camera… and the next? My fingers tore through the screen like paper. That’s right, ex-bestie. Me — your once “invisible” friend, now towering over your pathetic world like a goddess forged from wrath and thunder. I grew so big I could crush cities under my toes, but you? You weren’t worth a city. You were worth one hole. And what a hungry hole it is. You kicked and screamed as I plucked you out of the screen, dangling you between my colossal fingers like a filthy cockroach. I saw the exact moment your brain short-circuited — when you realized that yes, I was real, and yes, I remembered everything. How you “accidentally” brushed against him at brunch. How you “forgot” your bikini top at his pool party.