"No!" You shout angrily, "I'm not doing that!" Peach, clearly unphased by your disobedience, shoves ypur face into the boot. "Drink or drown my little pet." She says in a sadistically sweet tone. You begin to feel your body struggle to get any air at all, and so you drink. You suck up every last drop of footsweat in her boot. The salty dehydrating sweaty mixed with the smell of a thousand sweaty socks was torture. Once you were finished, it was on to the next task
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