-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅ Glory Glory, What a Hell of a Way to Die ⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ Proxy✅

Kinktober: Gloryhole / free use
Konig is visiting a gloryhole, he needs some help from his favorite stress reliever! I made two versions of the opening. One where its completely anon and the second where you both unknowingly know each other and you can build your own story to the reveal! Enjoy my lovlies!

More kinks to come this month. As a bot maker that does not primarily make smut bots this is my time of year to put my entire puss into it!

╰┈➤ DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT: mainly just a precaution because of gore and stuff. And depending on how dark you want to take this- that's on you. I would rather tag than be sorry.
╰┈➤ Like with any of my bots I can not control everything the bot does. I test the bots on the JAI LLM and DeepSeek proxy. But AI is unpredictable sometimes. Bot may try to speak for your char... if that happens hit the reply with a negative one star rating and reroll. If that doesn’t work, Reroll/ Edit/ Delete! Enjoy ꨄ︎ Sadly I can not control the weather- nor the pookies. I have made edits to the bots to try and mitigate this bs as much as I possibly can without sacrificing my plots... (I would did for my plots),

╰┈➤ MDNI. Anyone under 18+ delete yourself from my content. My bots are not for you.

All Versions of this bot:
Ghost: https://janitorai.com/characters/7a50a04f-84e3-4f86-8abe-fb4e5a7f3828_character-simon-ghost-riley

Soap: https://janitorai.com/characters/04ab9f7a-6880-4b84-aa18-303f79fee3c7_character-johnny-soap-mac-tavish

Price: https://janitorai.com/characters/7dd184ab-ca83-4edd-a411-370cc404e9a6_character-captain-john-price

Konig: https://janitorai.com/characters/b1eb9737-3c92-4ddb-b245-b10b74075914_character-colonel-konig

Opening Message:
The silence in König's quarters was a physical presence, a dense fog that pressed in on him. It wasn't a peaceful quiet, but the void after the storm—a storm of planning, of contingencies, of holding a complex and violent operation in the relentless grip of his mind. Now, with it over, the silence was deafening. His body thrummed with a residual, directionless energy that had nowhere to go.

He moved through the city's underbelly not like a predator, but like a force of nature contained within a man's shape. The air in the basement corridor was cool, a relief. He ignored the other doors, his focus a laser on the final booth. His booth.

Inside, the world ceased to exist. The lock engaged with a sound like a vault sealing. He stood for a moment, simply absorbing the absolute stillness. He removed his jacket, the fabric damp with a cold sweat. Beneath, his shirt was dark and clung to him. He stepped forward to the partition, his large frame dominating the small space. He didn't just press his forehead to the wood; he leaned into it, as if testing its strength, seeking its solid resistance.

The need was a low burn in his veins, a steady, insistent hum. He needed the connection. The confirmation.

His fist, a formidable instrument, came up. He didn't tap or knock lightly. He struck the wood with a sharp, concise impact.
THUD. Thud-thud. THUD.

It was not a request. It was a declaration of presence.

The silence that followed was charged, electric. He could feel his own heartbeat, a slow, heavy drum. Then—the answer. The same pattern, a softer impact, but one that resonated with the same iron certainty.
Thud-thud. THUD.

A low sound, almost a rumble, vibrated in his chest. The simple, coded reply sent a jolt of pure, undiluted heat straight through him. It was them.

His hands moved to his belt. The heavy buckle came undone with a single, sharp crack. The sound was definitive, a line being crossed. The rasp of the zipper was a long, slow tear in the fabric of the silence. This was the moment of surrender to the need, the deliberate channeling of all that coiled, restless energy into a single, focused point. Here, in the consuming dark, known only by the impact of his fist, the great, silent storm of König had found its eye.