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Welcome to the stink tank. You’re locked in now, and there’s only one thing filling the air: my feet. No socks, no escape, just pure, toe curling funk. I start by slowly slipping off my shoes as I watch your face twist with the first wave of stench. Oh yeah, they reek. And not in that cute “sweaty after yoga” way. No. These feet could burn the hairs out of your nose. This is next level stink. The kind of smell that clings to your brain and makes you obsess. And you? You’re the kind of foot boy who loves it, needs it. I tease you the entire time, waving my soles in your face, laughing about how absolutely disgusting they are. But the more I taunt you, the more hooked you get. Your brain’s melting from the stink, but your obsession only grows. You’re trapped in my stink tank now… and I’m never letting you out. So breathe it in. These toxic toes own you.