Loosey Lucy Ch. 02

Author's note: This story contains verbal and physical humiliation. There is an extreme amount of body shaming. If you do not like these things, you should not read this story. You also should not read this story if you're not into disgusting and over-the-top metaphor and alliteration. That shit is 100% intentional creative choice.

While this chapter contains bathroom control and piss play, this story will never involve scat in a sexual context. It does mention it in passing and will likely include enemas for practical purposes.

Lucy Friedman woke with a start, taking in her strange surroundings. This wasn't the hotel she'd fallen asleep in. Well, okay, falling asleep was putting it politely. Fist-fucked into unconsciousness was more like it. This new room was small and sparse, though the blue-black walls were luxurious and the king-sized bed as soft as a cloud. It was a stylishly masculine space, and it felt lived-in despite its lack of personal effects.

She took stock of herself. Still naked, a little sore, and... what the hell is that? There was a wad of familiar fabric stuffed up her well-used asshole. Her ruined panties, she realized, giving it an experimental tug.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," rumbled a deep voice, and she gripped the top sheet over her nudity. Duke St. Graves was as gorgeous as she remembered, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed. "I came in you another half-dozen times after you passed out. You remove that and you're going to get jizz all over my sheets. You get jizz all over my sheets, and I'll make you spend the afternoon sucking it out with your mouth."

Lucy shivered. Some primal part of her brain recognized his threat as credible. "Where am I?" she asked him.

"My house. Check out was at 10:00 AM and I don't know where you live." He handed her a glass of water, and she was reminded of the soda bottle he'd fucked her with only hours before. It had felt huge at the time, but it was nothing compared to his fist. Lucy didn't dare reach down inspect the state of her pussy hole. She already knew she wasn't going to like what she found. "Drink all of it," he instructed. "You lost a lot of fluid."

She grabbed it from him with one hand, careful to keep the sheet tucked up to her chin. "Umm," she squirmed, "can I go to the bathroom first?"

Duke blinked slowly at her question, simultaneously surprised and delighted that she had asked his permission to perform a basic bodily function. What a good girl, he thought, and entirely untrained. Lucy looked altogether confused by her irrational instinct, eyebrows scrunched in chagrin. He redirected her thoughts with a kiss on her heart-shaped mouth, a peculiar response of his own. Kissing? Duke did not kiss.

"Finish your water first," he demanded, stepping back. "While you're at it, stop hiding and show me those clown-titties of yours." Lucy blushed but did as he said. It wasn't so much her tits that looked like they belonged in a circus--they were a small, modest B-cups--but rather her nipples that starred in their very own freak show. Her areolas were bloated bulges almost as big around as beer bottles. They ballooned out from her chest by well over an inch, capped with thick nipples and drooping under their own pendulous weight. With the way her arms were positioned right now, they looked like googly eyes, one pointing down and the other to the side. Duke chuckled. Even as an ass man, he found her bizarro breasts strangely compelling.

As she gulped down the water, he snatched off the rest of her flimsy covering for his immediate perusal. Her meaty cunt lips made up most of the view between her legs, though they had taken a bit of a beating and were looking rather saggy against her thick thighs. He knew that if she leaned back just a little bit, her pussy hole would flop open. Lucy was young, but she had the stretchiest snatch he'd ever encountered and he'd spent most of the previous night fistfucking it into utter ruin. Duke had no intention of letting it tighten back up. He'd been awake for hours while she slept, and now he had plans for the luscious fuck toy currently occupying his bed.

Lucy finished her drink and looked up at him expectantly. He led her into the ensuite bathroom, intercepting her when she went to flip up the porcelain toilet lid. "No," he directed her. "In the bathtub. On all fours."

"What?" she looked aghast. "No way!"

Duke grabbed her low-hanging labia and used them as a leash to drag her to the tub. "Yes," he countered. "I was nice enough to put all that cum into you and now I want to watch you push it back out."

"But," Lucy stuttered, "I don't need to do that." Duke smirked, yanking her panties out of her well-fucked asshole. Considering the copious amounts of jizz sloshing around inside her had all but glued the fabric to her sensitive rear hole, the sensation was not unlike ripping off a bandage. Once removed, Lucy very quickly realized the gravity of her situation. She stumbled to the tub and dropped to her hands and knees before she could accidentally void herself on his pristine tiled floor.

"Hold those fat ass cheeks open," he commanded, complimenting her when she followed his direction without question. "Good girl. Your butthole is gaped so pretty from my cock. I put so much spunk inside you for safekeeping, but there's a hole in my cumbucket, isn't there? Your virgin pucker was so tight last night that it never would have sprung a leak, but now you're just a worthless little filth whore whose cup runneth over."

Lucy sobbed from his harsh treatment, trying desperately not to take what was sure to be an explosive shit of semen all over herself. Despite her best efforts, a trickling stream of man milk had already begun to escape. The stream turned into a river, and soon enough her backdoor was overflowing with the thick viscous fluid. It burbled and bubbled before she she could no longer keep clenching, crying out in anguish as she flooded the bathtub with a deluge of over 10 loads of Duke's nut. Unable to stop herself, a stream of pee powered out of her urethra with such force that it splashed back onto her pale creamy skin.

The girl was full-on bawling by the end of her toilet humiliation, tears dripping down her face to join the concoction of potent pee and day-old splooge. "Lie down, fuckmeat," Duke insisted. "No, on your back. Now rub your nasty creation on those fat nips. All over your roast beef sandwich. Push it into your used-up gash. More. More. Stop being so precious, Lucy, it's not like anyone wants to fuck you there. I've put my dick in geriatrics with tighter pussies than yours." Duke whipped out said member, and for the grand finale, covered her from head to toe in a bath of piss that he'd been saving up for exactly this moment. "Now, thank me," he ordered.

Poor Lucy looked up into the lens of Duke's phone with sad, scared eyes, and whispered her gratitude for the man who already had more than enough evidence of her depravity. Then, without warning, he wrenched the overhead shower on and told his new pet to stay beneath the freezing cold spray until he returned.

Duke settled himself on his leather living room sofa to watch the video he'd just shot. Lucy had barely put up any fight at all. Fucking her ass was one thing, but forcing her to urinate like an animal while she shat cum and rubbed it all over her delicious body? He could scarcely believe his eyes. He squeezed his dick through his pants, not wanting to waste a load that could otherwise be deposited into the personal cum receptacle waiting for him in the other room.

He wished he could watch her now, wondered what she was like now that she was alone. Was she turned on, tentatively touching herself despite her disgust? Or was she dumbstruck, unwilling to acknowledge the vile acts visited upon her person? Perhaps she was outraged, pushed past the limits of what she would allow herself to endure.

When he re-entered the bathroom, he found Lucy shivering and turning blue. He enjoyed the way she regarded him, eyes wide with apprehension and curiosity. Oh yes, she liked being defiled, even if she wouldn't admit it. Duke picked her up like a rag doll, allowing the water to warm before gently scrubbing her clean inside and out. He toweled her off and then had her drink another glass of water.

"You're so perfect, Lucy," Duke cooed, cradling the confused girl in his lap as he worked his fist firmly back inside her meat bracelet. After all, he didn't want to lose any progress. She sighed, so sweet, so subdued as he sullied her. No, this lovely thing wasn't capable of outrage. A middle child, he guessed. Divorced parents. "I'm going to give you everything you never knew you wanted." He cuddled her, stroking her soft skin and toying with her blonde hair until she fell back asleep.

Lucy awoke in the dark, snuggled up against a sleeping Duke who still had his hand sheathed inside of her pussy. She tried to remove herself, needing to go to the bathroom again and hoping this time would be better than the last. Her keeper, however, was a light sleeper. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"Please," she bit her bottom lip, "I just need to pee."

"No," he said. "You ask for permission to go to the bathroom, and right now I'm not giving it to you."

"But why?" she wondered out loud.

"Why do you need permission, or why am I denying it?" he clarified.

"Both," she responded.

Duke sighed, giving her cunt a couple of thrusts with his fist now that he was well and truly awake. His fingertips felt like a prunes. He was definitely going to need a more permanent solution for keeping Lucy's baby basket nice and open.

This, he knew, was pure perversion. He had no real reason to disfigure her; it didn't arouse him, exactly. Rather, it was the idea of having a true sexual plaything-- as opposed to a partner--that was so enticing. Not a trophy, some sick hypersexualized caricature of the male gaze. Simply someone to desecrate for his own amusement. And despite her anatomical oddities, Lucy looked so... untouched. Guileless baby-blue eyes, dainty rosy-red lips, and a body unblemished by any scars, tattoos, or piercings--not even in her ears.

As for the girl herself, she couldn't believe how his whole hand slid in and out of her with the ease of a dick. There was absolutely no resistance at all now; just the soft, slippery squish of her insides welcoming their perfect match. The sensation was pleasant, not pleasurable. Like the gentle pressure of a back massage or the smooth glide of Mulberry silk.

"Because, little girl," Duke rumbled several minutes later, "you obviously aren't responsible enough to take care of your own holes. I'm going to take care of them for you."

"But I didn't agree to any of that!" she exclaimed, though her protest sounded much less aggrieved than she had intended. She couldn't help it--her pussy was so wet, and his movements were so comforting. The slurping soundtrack of her stretched-out socket played lightly in the background of their conversation.

"I didn't realize you needed too," Duke said, which was not exactly true. "I'll take care of you. I'll make you feel good."

"You didn't make me feel good earlier," she retorted, and he felt a sort of tender affection bloom somewhere deep inside his chest. His kitten did have claws, short and blunt though they were. She was not so docile as he had begun to believe, and her petulance was nothing short of adorable.

"No one likes a liar, Loosey Lucy. You love when I degrade you. Even with your pussy packed full of jizz and piss, you would have made yourself cum in five seconds flat if I'd told you to." Her sucked one of her turgid teats into his mouth and she moaned while shaking her head in disagreement. "Yes. Spend the week with me and I'll prove it to you."

It was a terrible idea, she knew. It had been less than 24 hours and Lucy already hardly recognized herself. Her pussy was so stretched out, it was welcoming Duke's fist like a long lost family member. Her asshole felt empty without his dick. She yearned for him to call her his useless fuckmeat. What would she look like after 7 days? Another creature entirely, she was sure. And yet, against all ration and reason, she hesitated to deny him.

More afraid than she had ever been in her life, she whispered "Okay."

"Such a good toy," he lavished her with praise. "I'll make sure you're used properly. My dumb little animal. My pathetic little pissmop. My filthy little fuckpig." He maneuvered her like a puppet as he searched for the bottle of lubricant in his bedside drawers, and then reacquainted her pucker with his penis. Hand still entrenched in her messy pink pocket, Duke proceeded to jerk himself off from inside her. "See, baby?" he whispered, as she wept in indignity and delight. "This is what you're good for. Just a piece of meat."