Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
The brochure for “Carnal Kingdom” was a masterpiece of suggestive design: neon lights, blurred figures, and a tagline that read, “Not your grandmother’s carnival.” On vacation last week, seeking something beyond the usual tourist traps, this adults-only amusement park seemed like a perfect diversion. Especially for a girl like me.
The park lived up to its name, with rides like “The G-Spotter” and “Wet Dream Falls.” But one attraction, towering over the rest with its garish, phallic silhouette, immediately caught my eye: the “Cocktival.” “You gotta try it,” a heavily tattooed guy in line ahead of me grinned, adjusting his novelty penis-shaped hat. “It’s an experience.”
Carnal Kingdom’s Cocktival Ride
The line moved surprisingly fast, a mix of nervous laughter and eager anticipation filling the air. As I neared the boarding platform, a staff member, looking remarkably unfazed, handed me a small plastic bag. Inside were two items: a sealed condom and a pair of industrial-grade swim goggles.
“For the cream,” they stated, their voice flat, as if explaining how to zip up a jacket. My eyebrows shot up. For the cream? I exchanged bewildered glances with the person behind me, who simply shrugged and started adjusting their goggles. The ride itself was undeniably shaped like a massive, cartoonish cock, painted in vibrant shades of pink and purple. My seat was at the base, one of several arranged around the structure. I fumbled with the goggles, fitting them snugly over my eyes, the condom still a baffling accessory in my pocket.
Then, the ride lurched into motion. It wasn’t a gentle start. The entire structure began to twist and turn, the individual seats undulating independently. I was pulled back, then pushed forward, rotated sideways, then spun around. It was aggressive, rhythmic, and undeniably mimicked sex. The G-forces were surprisingly intense, pinning me against the seat, then launching me slightly, the movements unpredictable and relentless. My stomach lurched, but a laugh burbled up instead – a mix of shock and pure, unadulterated absurdity.
Just as I thought my ribs couldn’t take any more, a deep, rumbling groan emanated from the ride’s peak. Then, without warning, the top exploded. Not with pyrotechnics, but with a sudden, voluminous gush. A thick, white, creamy substance came raining down. It splattered onto my goggles, my hair, my clothes, chilling and sticky. It smelled faintly of something sweet, like vanilla and…shampoo? Or maybe just industrial-grade foam.
When the ride finally shuddered to a halt, I peeled off my goggles, vision momentarily blurred by the milky film. My face, my hair, my entire being was coated in cocktival cum! I looked around at my fellow riders, all equally covered in the creamy discharge, and immediately got back in line.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
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