Squeaky Clean Ch. 02

I came to in a dimly lit room, lying in an unfamiliar bed. The sheets were made of silk and looked to be very expensive. The whole room was extremely luxurious, with wooden pillars carved out and finely decorated. For a minute, I felt relaxed looking over the fine decor, until my eyes stopped on a photograph sitting on the table next to the bed. In the picture was an image of a woman riding a horse— but not just any woman. Carla's expansive backside spilled over the sides of the horse, as it appeared to struggle to carry the giant woman. My mouth gaped in shock as I realized that her ass was bigger than the horse's! Everything from the day's earlier events came flooding back into my memory, striking me with fear. What time was it? What day, even? My boss and my girlfriend must have no idea what was going on! I frantically jumped out of the bed to go looking for my phone when the door opened slowly.

"Hello sleepyhead," Carla chuckled, turning to the side to allow her enormously wide hips to pass through the doorway. "Ugh, my big ass can barely fit through this door! Oh well, I only use this room when I have guests. But it looks like you will be staying here for quite some time."

"Wh— what's going on? I have to leave," I said nervously, looking around the room to see where my phone and tools were. "Where is everything, where did you put my phone?"

Carla grinned down at me. She slyly pulled my phone out of her pocket, as if taunting me with it. "You know, dear, you really shouldn't use your birth year as your password. It would make it dreadfully easy for someone to hack it and look through all your conversations." Her sinister smile grew bigger as she saw me turn white on the spot. My hands began to clam up, as my mind raced through everything that she might know about me. The affair I was having with a girl from work. My gambling addictions. My stomach sunk as I began to calculate just how badly she could blackmail me.

"What—what do you want from me?" I asked shakily.

"Oh, not too much," she said cheerfully, putting her hand on my shoulder as she guided me to sit down next to her on the bed. "I'm a pretty simple woman, actually. I don't need money, lord knows these guys online will give me their whole paycheck just to sniff my ass," she said, laughing. "Though they might not like what they smell! But... I just want you to do what your company guaranteed me they would do... and that is to keep my ass clean!"

"But— it— it's not meant to clean... er... an ass like yours," I sputtered, trying not to get upset. "There's really nothing more I can do, and I've spent too much time here already!"

She chuckled, looking down upon me with a sneer. "THAT... is all you can do? Oh, I don't think so, dear," she snickered, standing up. Her massive buttocks were inches from my face. The immensity of them up close terrified me.. each perfectly round sphere was larger than my whole upper body. The two gigantic cheeks together could take up a small couch.

"Like what you see, dear?" she said, smiling down at me, as I broke out of my trance. My face turned bright red, as I froze, not knowing what to say. "It's okay, darling, you aren't the first... far from it! Let me ask you, are you an ass man?"

"Um... no, not really," I lied. The truth was, I did like womens' asses just not gargantuan ones like the one in front of me.

"Do you know how many men have paid me just to kiss my ass? How many have paid me to sniff my anus? How many men have paid to watch me defecate? They just cannot resist my behind... and everything that comes along with it! It's truly extraordinary how depraved and twisted some of these men are," she chuckled, still facing away from me, her mountainous globes pointing right at my face. "You see, Trevor, I know you aren't an ass man. I've gone through everything on your phone. And I mean everything. In the six hours you've been asleep, I have read all your conversations from all your social media accounts. I know you are having an affair another woman and that you have been— so far— successful at keeping it from your girlfriend. I know what kind of porn turns you on— you should really start deleting your browser history, better, by the way!"

I groaned, putting my head in my hands as I tried to contemplate just how fucked I was.

"What is it that you want me to do, then?" I pleaded with her, hoping she would turn around and get her huge ass out of my face. In addition to making it more difficult to talk to her with her posterior plugging my field of vision, I was beginning to catch a whiff of her odorous backside, which caused me to gag a little.

"I want you to tell your girlfriend that you will be away for the next several weeks, servicing a particularly demanding client. As a matter of fact, I will do it now." She pulled my phone up and began to dial. I gulped in terror as I heard the phone begin to ring on speakerphone. I prayed that she was just bluffing and it wasn't really my girlfriend.

I wanted to tell her to let me talk to my girlfriend, Sheila, but she wasn't even looking at me, which made me upset. I tapped her on the backside forcefully, which, to my astonishment, was solid as a rock beneath its so outer layer. She didn't respond, and to my dismay, I heard my girlfriend's voice on the end of the line.

"Hello? Trevor, where are you?" Sheila asked.

"Good evening, honey, as you can tell this is not Trevor but he is here with me. My name is Carla, and I've stolen your little boyfriend— no need to worry, I'm going to take very good care of him. He's going to be right under my... supervision... for the next several weeks, so I just wanted to let you know everything is under control," she said cheerily, her voice dripping with unnatural sweetness. Cortrasting the sweetness in her voice was a sour, pungent aroma beginning to surround me. Had she farted in my face? Surely she wasn't that rude and indecent. Yet, after the past day's events, I couldn't say for sure. From the magnitude of her bottom, it could just be the lingering smell of her last dump.

"Umm.. I'm sorry, who did you say you were?" Sheila replied, her voice clearly shaking from the confidence of the woman calling her on her boyfriend's phone.

"I didn't say who I was," Carla chuckled, shaking her head. "My name is Carla Quintaine, darling, the booty queen of Instagram. You may have heard of me, but if not, I would like you to follow me. Your wonderful boyfriend is helping me install my new SqueakyClean, and as my rear end is substantially larger than most— no, all— it is proving quite difficult. So we are setting aside the next few weeks from his personal and work schedule to make sure he does a very good job!"

"Um..." Sheila faltered, "Well, I guess if it's for work it's alright... I just don't know why Trevor didn't tell me this himself."

"I wanted to tell you myself, dear," Carla said cheerfully, sticking her hip out. "Don't worry about your little boyfriend, I will be keeping him on a very short leash! He will be under my ass— or, what's the expression?? Under my thumb!" She laughed heartily at her mixup. My heart pounded with fear, at the thought of being under that giant, smelly monstrosity that stuck out proudly at me. "Alright, then, toodles!" she exclaimed, hanging up before Sheila could respond.

"Ugh, why couldn't you let me talk to her?" I groaned, putting my face in my hands. "She's going to think I'm having an affair, now!"

"Aren't you?" Carla smirked, raising an eyebrow at me as she turned around. "Maybe it's right that I let her on to your little secret? But anyways, that conversation is for another day... follow me, darling. We have work to do." Without looking back, she turned her hips to the side to move through the door frame. Amazingly, her protruding rear end still barely fit through the frame with her turned to her side. I was unquestionably shaken by the thought of her letting my girlfriend in on my affair, so I thought the best thing to do is follow this psychotic, big-butted Amazon.

I followed behind her, trying not to let my eyes drift to her enormous sitter, which shook with every step she took. I looked around instead at the gilded framed paintings and the marble floors of her mansion. She turned to me, giggling.

"Here is where you will begin servicing me, dear," she said with a wink, turning and leading me back into the bathroom we had been in earlier. "Oh good, the boys cleaned the room up very nicely since we were here last! Not that it'll matter much in a few minutes!"

She grunted, trying hard to separate her leggings from her expansive bottom. The fabric looked ready to snap, barely coming off of her bulbous, jiggling sitter. Immediately, I caught a whiff of an earthy, sulfury smell which made me cough.

"Don't turn your nose up too quickly hon!" she quipped. "You'll be getting a little more personal with my caboose this time!" She slapped her thick, meaty ass cheek, making it ripple for a few seconds.

"Whh—what do you mean, more personal?" I quivered, recoiling in fear.

"You aren't going to be using that toy of yours to clean Carla's butt. I'm going to give you a lesson on exactly what "squeaky clean" truly means. You'll be getting your hands dirty... verrry dirty! Sometimes this technology stuff works well, other times you need a more... hands-on... approach," she laughed, sitting her gigantic rear end on the seat.

My hands were trembling with fear, my face reddening with embarrassment as I thought about my predicament. I wanted to tell her off, but I couldn't find it in myself. Being a nice guy was my weakness— I couldn't say no to a customer, not even one as deranged as Carla.

"Ahhh, here it comes," she sighed, as some plops began to hit the water in her enormous bowl. I braced myself for the impending stench, turning my face away from the bowl. "Oh don't be shy, come closer dear, I want you to smell my shit. I want you to know just how bad it is."

I couldn't believe the way she was talking to me, but I held my tongue, my eyes watering as the potent smell of all the beans, eggs, cheese & meats she had digested earlier hit me right in the face, a warm, slight wet wind blowing across me.

"Your worthless little device could never clean me, love, don't feel bad. I always liked a personal touch better, anyways," she sneered, looking dead in my eye as another massive turd landed on the pile with a thud that reverberated in the room. I bit my lip to stop myself from crying. It was hard to breath, the air thick with her stench.

"Come here, darling," she whispered, her voice disturbingly sweet. "Time to clean up! That was a very relaxing poop, and I think my bottom may be a little dirty now." She patted it, motioning for me to come back there.

Timidly, I went for the toilet paper only to hear a sigh from the large, gorgeous woman. She wagged her finger at me in a mock scolding fashion.

"You guys promised me I wouldn't need to use toilet paper again. I don't think so! Wet that hand and soap it up! You'll be freehanding this one!" she laughed, handing me a bottle of soap.

"But— um— I ca—"

"Just use the water in the toilet, Trevor!" she demanded, grabbing me by the upper arm. With her superior strength, she forced my arm down into the bowl where my entire forearm was submerged in her shit. I wretched, trying to pull it out desperately, but Carla grinned at me, bringing her face right up to mine. I had never been more terrified, feeling completely helpless as she held my arm in her poop.

"You're not getting out of this room until my asshole is clean enough for you to kiss!"