Utopia Corp
by Mecca
THE LOTTERY
Jim stepped inside the room and closed the door. He was ecstatic.
The room was styled like a kitschy romantic motel: a king-size bed, a modest bar stocked with a limited series of beverages, pristine white shag carpeting, a black leather loveseat, and a couple posters of superstar singer Maria Santos, with an en suite bathroom adjoined. Next to the bed was a 65-inch (165 cm) TV showing clips of movies starring Maria (she was better known by her mononym). Beneath the TV sat a dresser with an assortment of vibrators and dildos. And on the bed, atop the velvet comforter was Maria herself, dressed in a sexy, very stylish evening gown. Maria Santos, global superstar, sitting there waiting for plain old Jim Rosenfeld, a human resources manager at a small staffing firm.
To anyone paying even slight attention to pop culture, Maria needed no introduction. Five years ago, before the passage of the Freeuse Act, Maria was a multi-platinum, 4-times Grammy-winning singer making 100 million dollars a year from her music. But in addition to singer/songwriter, her resume also included actress, businesswoman, philanthropist, activist, diva, and pop icon. And now, she was little more than a sex toy who was about to be fucked by Jim.
In the years after the Freeuse Act, the lives of all women in the country had changed drastically. By making it illegal for women to refuse sex, nearly all women of child-bearing age were having sex multiple times a day; with some of the younger, more desirable women in cities getting fucked an average of ten times a day, according to government demographers. But female celebrities put them all to shame. Celebrities were in mass demand and many of them suffered through massive gangbangs with hundreds of men in those first few months. Several died of exhaustion.
The government acted to both protect these women and create a fair and impartial way to give ordinary men access to their holes. All reasonably famous and attractive women were seized and held in secure facilities where they then were turned into sex slaves owned by the government. They were first given to government officials, of course, but after that, the federal government devised a system by which ordinary men would be able to have sex with these women. Queues were created and any man could purchase a ticket to join the queue for his preferred celebrity. Those queues were then randomized. Every day, hundreds of men would find out they were selected to have sex with the celebrity of their picking in about a month’s time. Those men could then make plans to make their way to the facility where their celebrity was living and, when it was time, go there to fuck their celebrity. Once they were done, they could go home and purchase a ticket to fuck a different celebrity. It was called The Lottery.
These celebrity fuck centers were not the free-for-all gangbangs that killed a few starlets in the beginning. These women were given posh rooms—in some cases, houses—where they were treated better than any other women in the country. Meals, health care, clothing, security, and accessories were all taken care of. Birth control was available. There was a limit of 5 fucks per day and the centers were closed on Sundays. So while it was not an ideal situation for these women, their lives were better than their fellow countrywomen, despite being in higher demand.
Six months ago, Jim paid $1000 for a Lottery ticket to fuck Maria. She was his biggest celebrity crush growing up and he knew her fuck center was in town, so he wouldn’t even have to purchase airfare to visit her. A month ago, he found out his number was selected. Today, he drove to her fuck center on his way to work. And after signing the necessary forms and watching a video about the rules, he was shown to her room. He had two hours to do anything he wanted with her. Within the rules, of course.
Jim was beside himself. He took in the sights of the room and grew excited seeing all the media that made him fall in love with Maria so many years ago. Lastly, he locked eyes on Maria. It was unreal. He had fucked dozens of women in the past five years, and even a couple before the Freeuse Act passed. But this would be his first celebrity. He smiled brilliantly, his exuberance overcoming his bashfulness.
“Hi, I’m Jim. I’m a huge fan,” he said.
The superstar singer Maria stared at the floor with a forlorn look on her face. Her eyes slowly trailed up Jim’s body and stared at his face. Then she resumed looking at the floor.
Jim understood that, to her, he was just one of many fans, and that despite his earnest respect and delight at her body of work, she probably would not replicate his enthusiasm at this moment. Still, he tried to show off his well-established admiration for her. “I saw your show at Junction Underground 10 years ago. You signed my shirt! I still have it.” Maria faked a smirk and let it drop. It was awkward. He decided he should probably just get to the sex stuff. “I used to fantasize about fucking you every day. Like I imagined you were my girlfriend and we were in love, and then we’d, you know…” Maria raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.
This wasn’t how Jim thought it would go when he finally met Maria. He felt like he was blowing it. He thought maybe Maria would be trained to respond eagerly to her fans. Or at least, as an actress, maybe she would act like she was slightly interested in the men who came to fuck her. But he supposed his expectations were too high. Still, this was Maria, his biggest crush. And there were thousands, maybe millions of men who would love to be where he was right now. He might as well make the most of it. He would act out one of his fantasies, whether she participated or not.
“Pull up your dress,” said Jim brusquely.
Celebrity or not, Maria was still just a woman and had to obey all male commands. There were cameras in the ceiling, meant to protect her from violent men, but they could also be used to prove she was breaking the law by refusing sex. Maria had been warned, if she disobeyed her suitors in this room, the government could put her out in the street, like any regular woman. And then hordes of men could… they could… Maria refused to recall the horrible stories of friends being violently fucked in their mansions by dozens of men at a time, while she hid in her panic room. She hid for months in her private secured room, until she was discovered by the police. Maria wished she was still in her panic room. It was monotonous and claustrophobic, but at least she didn’t have to fuck anyone. However, her supplies wouldn’t have lasted forever. Eventually it was going to have to come to this.
Maria pulled her long dress up, revealing her pink thong. Her tight dress was bunched around her waist.
“Remove your panties.”
Maria pulled her panties down and casually tossed them on the floor. Her clothing was free. Half of her suitors would rip the panties off her body during their visit. These panties in particular were purchased in bulk.
The diva Maria was now half-naked. A gorgeous 30-year-old Latina with wide smoky eyes, a 5’1” (154 cm) stature, long black hair, thick thighs, and a fully shaved pussy was available for this ordinary man. She bared her perfect, unblemished skin for this ordinary man to ogle.
Previously, she had successfully navigated a decade in the business without getting naked, not even showing her breasts in a movie when her director boyfriend begged her to do it. Now, any man with a thousand dollars could fuck her pussy. Thousands of them already had. A pussy which was kept clean and tidy by government “trainers” that monitored her health, forced her to workout, kept her on diets, picked her clothes, did her makeup, and removed her body hair.
The trainers also fucked her, too, even though they weren’t supposed to. Not just her male trainers, but the female ones, too. The trainers were so enamored with her at first, especially those new to the industry, that they treated her like a queen–while still doing their job of keeping her in line. Then they grew comfortable with the young starlet, their fear of upsetting her or making her uncomfortable dissipating completely. The trainers grew casual with Maria after some time, having already seen her nude many times while performing the tasks of their job. They’d seen her strip, they’d seen her fuck, they’d seen her eat and shit. She became like any other woman. And that was when they forced her to perform sex acts for their own amusement.
After a while, those trainers would grow bored with her and move on to other starlets. But then she would get new trainers and the cycle would begin again. There was nothing she could do about it. She only rarely saw their boss and he seemed okay with it.
So she sat there on the bed and waited to see what Jim was going to ask her to do next. Every suitor was into something different. She had shit on guys, eaten their shit, taken dick in every hole, spanked and gotten spanked, stomped on balls, gotten tickle tortured, pretended to be a worm, and every other kink she had never imagined possible before the country went berserk. She didn’t spend much time out in public, but from the stories she heard about the outside, it seemed like she was getting a much greater variety of kinky sex requests than ordinary women. Maybe there was something weird about her fans.
Jim simply asked her to get on all fours. That was easy enough. Maria got on her hands and knees on the bed. Since her dress was still bunched about her waist, her full ass was on display. With her ass out, he dived onto the bed and starting eating her ass and pussy out. He licked her asshole and labia greedily, planting kisses on her large round ass cheeks. It wasn’t completely unpleasant.
“Mmm, Maria,” said Jim. “I love it when we do this. You’re always so sweaty after a concert and I love it. But… do you have to fart?”
There it was. Maria squeezed her stomach a bit. “I don’t think so,” she said.
“Are you sure? It would be awesome if you could fart a little.”
Maria stretched and pushed on her tummy with her hand. It was her job to please this man, after all. But she couldn’t make the impossible happen. “I’m sorry, man, I got nothin’.”
“Okay… Could you just make a fart noise then? With your mouth or whatever?”
Maria shook her head, bit her lower lip, and pushed a “Pffft” noise from her mouth.
“Oh, Maria! Not while I’m eating your ass!” Jim then whispered, “Keep going! This is hot!”
“Perrffff. Ppppfft!” Maria fake farted.
“Oh, Jesus, Maria, that really stinks! I’m not going to stop licking you, though!” And Jim continued giving oral sex as Maria provided the sound effects.
Jim had a good time, but after eating Maria’s asshole and then fucking it, his time was up. He had to get to work. He said goodbye to Maria, who managed to push out a real fart in response, just for Jim’s enjoyment. Jim gave her an appreciative smile. Then he left.
THE INTERVIEW
Jim was late to work, later than he had planned, knowing that he had a Lottery appointment in the morning. He missed the morning team meeting and needed to catch up. But first, coffee.
Sabrina, his assistant, stood next to the coffee machine, making some tea. Jim pressed the Caffè Americano button on the machine and asked for a synopsis on the meeting.
“The Miami account is out. Finance is still asking for the hiring numbers, and Al is mad you haven’t done your security training.”
“Fuck Al,” said Jim, as he absentmindedly gave Sabrina’s butt a soft squeeze. He wasn’t horny right now; he was just used to touching her butt in the mornings. It was mostly an impulse.
Sabrina didn’t even notice her coworker squeezing her ample buttocks. “Oh, and the toilet is here! She’s in Conference Room B.”
“Hell. Yes.” Jim proceeded to the conference room. Although there were plenty of girls in the office to fuck, it was always exciting to get a new girl. And this girl was the company’s first toilet, so it was going to be a new experience for everyone.
While a “toilet” could be used to mean any girl used in a demeaning way, it now mostly referred to a female intern from the federal government’s Prison to Work Program. Five years ago, the mass incarceration of women created a dearth of free women in public places. The government maintained that these women’s sentences were necessary, but they also considered that some of the sentence lengths were excessive. They created the program to provide incentives for prisoners to behave like good sluts, while also providing more women for men to fuck without having to visit prisons and jails. Good-looking girls with good behavior were allowed to spend time in the general public in service of men. In turn, sentences were reduced for those girls if they received good marks from their employers.
The rumors were that recent ex-convicts and interns were better than regular women because of their training. Even though regular women were now obedient, they were often slow and reluctant. Whereas female convicts had been taught how to please men, every day for years. They were efficient cum dumpsters and eager to please. They knew how bad life could get if they didn’t behave. And, Jim surmised, their brains were simply broken from all the sexual torture that reportedly occurred in prison.
Jim stepped inside the conference room, closed the door, and took a seat. The large conference room was empty except for a half-Asian girl with a pixie cut wearing a tight orange jumpsuit. On her forehead was a mostly-faded inmate number. She looked nervous.
“Minoko Bailey. Five years into a six-year term. Your initial term was extended after organizing a protest within the prison, but you’ve been well-behaved since. What changed your behavior? Was it The Machine?”
Minoko swallowed and smiled. “Sir, yes, I have a checkered past, but my experiences in prison have led me to understand that men have given everything to make society run smoothly, and it is my role as a woman to please every man in gratitude.”
Jim nodded. It sounded like a canned answer. “I see they’ve let you grow your hair out. Looks like about 6 months?”
“Yes, sir. They let girls stop shaving once they apply for the program now. But if my hair isn’t long enough, I have wigs.” Minoko pointed to two wigs on the table, one black and another pink.
“And it looks like you’ll be with us for two months. Is that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What are your goals, Minomo?” Jim intentionally mispronounced her name to see if she would correct him.
Minoko didn’t take the bait. “To please all cocks, sir!” she giggled like a bimbo. “Every last one!” She then opened her mouth and licked her lips to arouse Jim.
Jim was amused, but not yet impressed. He’d been to prostitutes before. Real ones, not just Maria. Minoko hadn’t earned the position just yet.
“You sound like you will make a quite capable toilet,” said Jim. “But I’d like to make sure you can properly please a cock. I just came about half an hour ago. How fast can you make me cum with a blowjob?” Jim sat back.
Minoko smiled eagerly, “I’ll try my best, sir! Do you like your ass eaten?” She ducked underneath the table and approached his crotch.
“No, stick to the dick and balls, please.”
Minoko unfastened Jim’s belt, opened his fly, pulled out his limp cock, and began sucking it. While it was in her mouth, she tugged his pants down to his ankles and gripped his ass.
“Mmmm,” she began humming. Since he was still small and flaccid, there was no room to bob her head. Instead, she rolled the soft penis around her mouth with her tongue. As Minoko was quite attractive to Jim, it didn’t take long for his dick to become tumescent in her mouth. He stroked her head as she got to work, silently cursing the shortness of her hair. Most every woman had long hair now, except for ex-convicts and interns. Still, she was a fine young woman, and an adequate cocksucker, so she would make do.
Jim still had a half-chub. “May I kiss you, sir?” she asked.
Jim rolled his eyes. A proper cocksucker should be able to get him hard without touching anything but his cock. And she hadn’t even touched his balls yet. But he supposed it was an unreasonably laborious task to get him hard now. He had drained his balls in his literal childhood crush not yet an hour ago. It wouldn’t be a fair interview if he didn’t help her out a little bit. “Sure.”
Minoko waited patiently for him to back up his chair so she could stand up on his side of the table. She crawled up his body and kissed his mouth and neck while undulating her fingers on his partially hardened cock. This worked better than he had anticipated. He fucked women every day, but usually just a routine dick-in-pussy or dick-in-ass fuck after receiving light oral. He forgot how nice it was to have other parts of his body worshiped.
“I can’t wait to taste your come, sir,” she whispered in his ear. “I want you to rail my throat until I drown in your come, sir. Make my throat pregnant.”
Wow! This little jailbird was much better at sex than Sabrina or any of the other female civilians. Regular women could be slow, hesitant, unenthusiastic, rough, sad, angry, unsexy, or even boring. In this brave new world, he could fuck any girl he wanted, but he couldn’t make them like it. This woman was trained to be happy, enthusiastic, and skilled. It felt like… it felt like one of his old girlfriends. For a moment, he wondered if Minoko actually liked him.
No. No, this was just her training, he realized. And if he hired her, she’d get to stay out of jail. He’d heard that jail was awful for women these days. This woman was highly motivated to please him. And she was doing a good job.
Minoko slid back down to her knees and sucked his mostly-hard cock. “Yummm,” she moaned, winking at him, then went back to sucking slowly. Her tongue slipped around his cock slowly, then sped up. She lifted his cock up, licked his balls, then resumed sucking cock as she man-handled his scrotum like a couple of Baoding balls.
Jim’s cock was rock hard now. She marveled at the shiny head, kissing it lightly on all sides, then began deepthroating it. Minoko grabbed and kneaded his ass cheeks while going “gluck gluck gluck” on his dick.
“Fuck,” he said, shutting himself up immediately afterwards. He didn’t want to give her any hints on how to please him. This was an interview, after all.
“Sir, I want this cock in me every day,” said Minoko dreamily between mouthfuls. “I hope you hire me, sir, so my other holes can feel this cock, too.” She sucked him for another minute before speaking again: “I’ve been told my asshole is super comfortable, sir. I hope you get to fuck it.” She sucked some more and added: “If you’re into that, sir.”
Jim thought this was silly. Who would tell her such a thing? And even if he didn’t extend her an offer, he could still fuck her ass before sending her home. But he was goddamned if he didn’t start daydreaming of her asshole distended around his cock. Would she pulsate her ring around his head? Would she squirm from the pain or beg him to go harder?
Jim was feeling hot. He wanted to pull out of her mouth so he could jack his nut all over Minoko’s face. He started to pull away, but she held on to his ass and pulled him back to her. Minoko then popped his wet dick out of her mouth and began jerking it with her hand quickly while licking the head. Jim moaned. Minoko kept fapping him, sucking his nuts for a few moments, and then licking the head, readying herself for the blast.
“Wha-? I…” cried Jim as Minoko milked his nut from him. The first blast hit her cheek and almost went in her eye. She gulped his dick down to the base, bobbing only an inch or two, but licking the root of his cock and seemingly flexing her throat. He squirted hot come down that very capable throat in rapid succession. “Fuckkk-egh!”
After Jim stopped quivering, Minoko slid her mouth off of him and opened her mouth to show him that his come was all safely stored in her belly. Except for the come on her cheek, which she seemed to have forgotten. Minoko went back under the table and awkwardly climbed back into her chair. She smiled, knowing she had surpassed his expectations and asked, “Anything else, sir?”
Jim was insulted. Not at Minoko’s actions, but at the lack of expertise of the women he usually fucked. Regular women were incompetent compared to this girl. Women could be so much better!
He was also disturbed by this intern program. This girl, who he was definitely hiring, was going to be a mere toilet. Named such, as he understood it, because her main purpose was to be pissed in and pissed on. She shouldn’t be tied up in the bathroom, to be abused and humiliated by the most perverted employees; she should be kept clean and tidy as a treat for the best employees. And a trainer for the females!
However, he was just Human Resources. His job was to hire, not to reorganize the corporate structure. He would follow the rules of the program and his job. If she was truly as talented as she seemed, and this was not a one-off, she would have a chance to become a paroled full-time employee at the end of the summer, where her skills might be put to better use.
Jim hired Minoko and immediately installed her in the 2nd floor men’s room. Now any man deciding to use the facilities could also get his rocks off on or in Minoko.
THE TOILET
Minoko waited patiently in the men’s bathroom. She sat, fully nude, right next to a urinal and its divider, her feet flat on the tile and forced into a permanent squat. Her legs were spread wide, knees jutting out on either side of her small tits. Her arms were bound behind her back. Around her neck was a metal choker that was attached to the wall behind her. Her mouth was fixed open with an O-ring gag, not that she needed it. She was an obedient slut nowadays. Lastly, a metal pole installed in the floor filled up her asshole a few inches, further preventing any movement. She was affixed to the wall with only the smallest amount of mobility that would allow her to turn her head, or flinch when she was hit.
She felt so lucky.
This wasn’t her ideal life or anything, she just was glad to be out of prison. Here on the outside there were no random beatings, no torture, no one could even fuck her here, except for her mouth. Her pussy was too low to the ground for any man to fuck, and her asshole was already filled with what was effectively a small dildo. That was nothing compared to the huge cocks and large batons that had been forced up her ass every day in prison. She could even piss whenever she wanted, courtesy of a drain in the floor right below her pussy. She had to hold in her shit, but only for a few hours, in between breaks. And they gave her breaks! Where no one could fuck her! In prison she could get fucked anywhere at any time, even during her one allowed bathroom break per day. And if she had to pee or poop at any other time, she would have to ask for permission.
What’s more is she had landed a spot in a cushy private office. She could’ve been sent to one of the government’s public glory holes where any man or woman could use her. Here, only the employees of this one company would use her.
Or she could’ve been turned into a breeder. Couples, or single men, who couldn’t conceive on their own could purchase a breeder from prison, knock her up, and force her to carry the baby to term. While breeders were treated fairly well, Minoko absolutely did not want to be pregnant, especially with some stranger’s kid. This was the best of all of her options.
She felt free. Minoko decided to make use of her newfound freedom and empty her bladder.
The bound girl let loose a stream of piss onto the tile, which pooled a bit then flowed backwards to the drain underneath her pussy. But she cut short her stream as a man entered the restroom.
“Hey, don’t stop on my account,” the man said, a sparkle in his eye. Minoko smiled imperceptibly and resumed peeing. “So you’re the new toilet.”
“Aah-hah,” she affirmed.
“Minoko,” he said, reading the sign next to her. He gave a quick laugh and said, “might as well.” He pulled his thick, flaccid cock out and pissed directly in her mouth. Minoko didn’t miss a beat and immediately started swallowing his urine while still squirting out her own. The man gave a wry smile and said, “Recycling.”
As talented as she was, Minoko couldn’t swallow fast enough and urine overflowed out of her mouth, down her body, and onto the floor. But the floor was sloped enough that his unconsumed piss safely flowed down the drain before it could approach his shoes. This toilet was thoughtfully designed.
Shortly after she emptied herself, the man’s stream weaned to a trickle. He gave a couple of squirts that missed her mouth, but warmed her body, and he was done. Now came the question of what to do with her afterwards.
Toilets were disgusting. By the end of the day, she would be covered in piss and come, smelling like a sewer and looking barely human. But even after a single use, by the man who used her, she wasn’t that appealing. He was horny, and wanted to fuck her mouth, but the idea of pressing himself against her face and getting his own pee on his nice pants was disagreeable. But he had a big enough cock to get sucked off while keeping his distance. He decided to go for it.
Minoko, feeling his cock on her tongue, immediately began licking and sucking as well as she could with the gag in place. She didn’t understand why he only inserted his tip in, but she had given up trying to understand why men did anything they did. She only knew her job was to please him, and she would give her very best in that regard.
Meanwhile, the man felt frustrated. She couldn’t get a good seal around his dick because of the gag. He couldn’t pull her head onto his crotch because of her neck binding. Why would they install this kind of toilet? Why didn’t they install the kind where all her holes were available? While her tongue was skillful, he wouldn’t be able to cum like this. “Ah, fuck it,” he said, dropping his pants to his ankles, turning around and plopping his ass on her face. He felt her tongue slide onto his asshole and lick fervently. This would do the trick. His coworkers might not like the view of him, half naked, blocking the view of the beautiful girl, but they would have to deal with it. He liked what he liked, and getting rimmed while jerking his cock was his idea of a good time.
It wasn’t long before he was fully hard, jacking his cock like a piston as she ate out his ass. Bradley, his boss came in.
“Brandon,” his boss greeted. Brandon gave him a nod, and continued jacking. Bradley entered one of the stalls.
See? No biggie. Brandon had been too paranoid about having sex in front of his coworkers. He guessed he was just old school in that fucking women at work still felt like an unearned privilege and he preferred to do it in the stairwell or in a stall, where no coworker would see him. But Brandon’s boss didn’t seem to mind that he had just seen him naked and jerking. Brandon felt very relaxed and realized he was ready to pop. He turned around and busted his load all over Minoko’s appreciative face.
“Not bad,” he muttered, admiring her skills. He redressed and cursed himself when he found a drop of come had landed on his nice pants. He spent the next five minutes trying to get out the stain using sink water and hand soap. Then he spent a couple minutes after that drying his pants so it didn’t look like he peed his pants. Still he was overly cautious when he exited the restroom. His coworker, Avery, seemed to notice the stain immediately.
“Come?” she asked.
“Come,” he sighed.
Avery gave a little giggle. But she didn’t make fun of him further. She was about to have her own humiliation.
AVERY
Avery had to use the toilet. And unlike the men, she didn’t have a nice private bathroom to use. Well, she had heard that it was approved for women to pee on the toilet-girl, but that was irrelevant to her current situation, since she had to shit. So she had to use one of the women’s toilets. In the middle of the office. Where everyone could see her.
The office had an open plan design, where there were rows of desks separated only by short barriers. Anyone standing or walking could see two toilets in the middle of the room, next to the copier and lounge chairs. The toilets weren’t completely open; each one was placed in a clear glass booth; like a phone booth with a toilet in it. The booth went all the way to the ceiling where there was a silent fan sucking the foul air away. This allowed everyone to see their female coworkers urinate and defecate without the accompanying smell.
These toilets were made of clear plastic. So everyone could see the piss and shit fall from their coworkers’ bodies and into the toilet. Lastly, these toilets did not make use of indoor plumbing. The toilet was more of a bucket. Instead of being able to flush away their offal, women excreted into clear plastic bags lining the bowl of the toilet. After they finished evacuating, they could seal and remove the bag with the pull of a lever—which inserted a new bag for the next occupant. This way, even if someone missed seeing the marvelous scene, they still might catch the shitter carrying a bag of her turds to the bio-waste bin.
Avery, a tall, beautiful 36-year-old brunette, was not a fan. Even though she had been using these toilets for nearly five years, it still felt embarrassing that everyone could see her shit and see her carry her bowel movements to the bin. She preferred to shit at home, but with her bowel issues, she ended up using the office toilets quite often. It wasn’t worth it to try to time it so she pooped only at home. So she proceeded to the toilet.
“Hey, Avery,” says Mark from logistics. “Can I ask you about the SPT reports?”
“Can I get back to you in 5, Mark?” she responded.
“Sure. I knew you had to poo with that waddle you're doing,” he said jocularly.
Avery didn't respond, and instead dismissed him with a sarcastic smirk. She might have to fuck and shit for these men, but it wasn't against the rules to mock them. She saw Mark watch with interest as she entered the toilet booth. She sighed and closed the door behind her, locking it as if that somehow increased her privacy.
Avery hiked up her modest business casual skirt and dropped her panties to her knees. There were no seat covers for women's toilets in this office, so Avery sat her bare ass on the seat. This didn't bother her so much as the fact that they were out of toilet paper again. She would have to clean her ass with the bidets near the biowaste bins. What a terrible day this was, and it was just beginning.
She looked at her coworkers through the clear glass door, farting and waiting for her movement to come. The coworkers, mostly men, were focused on their own work. Then she looked to her right and regretted it immediately as she saw Mark sipping his coffee and watching her with avid interest. She bowed her head to hide her face and closed her eyes. She would be in her own little world.
“Gnnngh,” Avery grunted, unknowingly curling her lip. She didn't have to wait long. She felt the turtlehead poke out. At least it was a firm one. She pushed and pushed, taking pleasure in how long she could go without cutting the turd with her asshole. As it got longer and longer, Avery opened her mouth with glee at her record. She opened her eyes and remembered that everyone could see her. She pursed her lips and continued defecating solemnly.
Images by Kiai Neko
After birthing a few turds and peeing, she shook her labia dry, redressed, and looked back at her handiwork. A massive turd that must've been two feet long. She smiled with somatic pride, pulled the lever, and grabbed her bag of waste. She placed her hands over the clear plastic bag to obscure her product as much as she could from onlookers.
Mark stopped her. “So, about those SPT reports…” he started.
“Mark, please!” Avery continued to the trash area, tossed her bag of shit and piss, and rinsed her anus with a powerful stream of warm water. Now that that was done, she could talk to her boss.
Avery went to Bradley's desk. “Can we talk?” she asked him, a serious look on her face.
“Should I get a conference room?” he responded.
“Yeah.” The two walked to a small room marked CONF. ROOM B, entered, and shut the door.
“Now what's this all about?” he inquired.
“I want to quit.”
Bradley sighed. “Is this about the meeting with the Japanese?”
“It's not not about that meeting. But really, it's about everything. Ten years ago, I loved it here. Everything was great. But recently… The late nights, the lack of a promotion, and, while I know it's not kosher to say…” Avery lowered her voice: “I'm tired of being fucked by every man in this company! For Christ's sake, Bradley, every day I carry a bag of my own shit through an office full of people.”
“Every day? I'm glad you're regular again.”
“I'm serious. I’m not like the other women we hire just so that the men have someone to fuck. I was working here before the Freeuse Act, and I still do actual, useful work! But I get treated like a toilet, and it takes time away from my real work.”
Bradley frowned. “Okay, I know things haven't been great for you here recently, and for that I am sorry. But no matter where you go, you're gonna have to fuck your coworkers. And most places have some form of viewable restroom for women…”
“I'm not going somewhere else,” she informed him. “I'm quitting work entirely. I'm going to be a housewife.”
“You see, the thing about that is...” he began. Bradley glanced down and chewed his lip. “You can't.”
“I can. It's perfectly legal for any married woman to stay at home and only be with her husband.”
“Yes, with her husband's permission.”
“Yes.” After a beat, Avery added, “Wait, what are you saying?”
“Lance had a feeling this was coming, so he wrote me. He told me not to accept your resignation if you gave it because, and I quote….” Bradley pulled his phone from his pocket and read from it, “‘No wife of mine is going to lay up in my house doing nothing and fucking no one. In this house, we are patriots and she will contribute not just to this household, but to the comfort and well-being of all American men.’ End quote.”
Avery was aghast. “That… asshole!”
“So while you can leave the company, I think you're stuck as an accountant. And until I have proof of another offer, I'm going to have to deny your resignation. I'm sorry, Avery.” Bradley then added, “Now I want to see you in that meeting in ten minutes,” and left.
THE MEETING
Avery entered the conference room late. Bradley and the representatives from Sato Corp were already there. She apologized for her tardiness, remembering to bow, and then had a seat at the table.
“Okay, let’s get started,” said Brandon. “We have a great relationship with Sato Corp over the past five quarters, and we look forward to many years of doing work together. However, as everyone here now realizes, our company had a billing error for the last nine invoices that we originally denied, believing Sato Corp to have calculated their books incorrectly. That was the result of a miscalculation on our side, due to a data entry error. Our senior accountant for EMEA accounts would like to formally apologize, in person, to Sato Corp.”
Avery stood, “Hello, I’m Avery Nichols. I take full responsibility for my actions, and I deeply regret the harm my actions have caused. I should have double checked my work, especially after being made aware of the billing discrepancy. I will do better in the future.
“The billing error has been addressed in our books and the reimbursement should arrive by 1 PM today. I thank you for your patience with our company and myself.” Avery sat.
Bradley and Avery watched anxiously as the translator spoke to the CEO in Japanese. When the CEO nodded and bowed his head slightly, the two Americans finally sighed in relief. One of the other men began conversing with the CEO, seemingly upset. The man slammed his fist on the table and the CEO was quiet for a moment, then gave a nod, “Mm.”
The translator spoke, “While Mr. Sato accepts your apology, Mr. Hamamoto, VP of Finance, says that you have brought shame upon his department by blaming them for the error. He is requesting naked dogeza.”
Bradley frowned. “What’s that?” he asked.
“Dogeza is a traditional Japanese apology. The person of remorse must kneel on both knees, place both palms on the ground, and bow, touching the forehead to the floor. For severe wrongdoing, supplicants will strip naked to do this. It shows they have nothing to hide and shows further penance through public humiliation.”
Bradley was indignant, “I’m not going-”
“Not you,” said the translator. “Just your accountant.” The CEO, VP of Finance, and other employees of Sato Corp were smiling. Bradley looked over at Avery. She was a very attractive woman; of course they wanted to see more of her.
“Oh! No problem, then! Avery, get to it.”
Avery was annoyed. But she already had taken a shit in front of her coworkers today, she might as well strip down for her clients. She took off her shoes, blouse, and skirt, folding them neatly on the table. She looked over to Bradley nervously. He nodded amiably.
“The VP understands that women are not people here in America,” the translator continued. “And so, a human apology is insufficient coming from an animal. An animal must go further to show their regret.”
She removed her bra and panties, initially covering herself, but then remembering that her humiliation was the point. Firm breasts and a trimmed bush came into view. She stood at the head of the table where she could be seen and dropped to her knees, facing Hamamoto. She bowed, touching her head to the floor, and saying, “I’m sorry.” Then she rose again.
“Please keep your head touching the floor,” said the translator.
Avery apologized again and bowed deeply, keeping her forehead on the conference room carpet. Bradley watched as the Japanese men stood and walked around Avery, ostensibly to gauge her apology, but more likely to admire the curves of her young, supple body. Only the translator and Bradley remained seated.
Image by Mecca
Avery began to sweat as the men judged her and talked among themselves. While any man could strip her—and many had—very few had inspected her as such: looking directly at her holes and folds. All her imperfections. She hated to think that they were looking directly into her asshole after she had just pooped; it might still be dirty. Yet, somehow she knew something like this would happen in the meeting. That was part of the reason she wanted to quit and avoid this charade of an apology. Well, at least she didn’t have to fuck them.
“Mr. Hamamoto would like to fuck her,” said the translator. “He says that such a mistake must be penalized through corporal punishment. In this case, the implement of punishment will be his penis.” Hamamoto spoke to the translator. “In her ass, he says.”
Bradley pursed his lips and nodded, hiding his amusement behind a businesslike demeanor. He liked how the Japanese thought. “Avery?” he requested.
Avery sighed and stood up to a room full of smiling men. Even her boss, who was usually on her side, eagerly rested his chin on his hands. She bent over the table, resting her arms on it, and waited for the men behind her to make a move.
Hamamoto used his hands to spread her legs and then spread her cheeks. She heard the rustling of clothes, spitting, and then the sound of a man moaning from the feeling of a tight asshole against the tip of his dick.
God, she hated anal. She only tried anal once before the Freeuse Act passed. Now she got fucked up the ass at least once a week. At least Mr. Hamamoto didn’t have a huge cock. It hurt, but she could tolerate it. Avery grunted with his every thrust, and waited for her sodomite to cum.
She supposed it wasn’t the worst thing. Bradley spanked her with a ruler when he first heard about her little mistake. She cringed just remembering the pain. She had a sore ass for days. Anal sex, on the other hand, she was getting used to. As long as there was some form of lube, Avery could handle it. She just vastly preferred vaginal if she was going to get fucked by someone other than her husband.
Her husband, the rat bastard. The man she had married a decade ago had no problem whoring her out to literally any swinging dick in the name of… community? Patriotism? It was all his fault that a strange man who couldn’t even speak English was ramming his cock up her ass. While she loved her husband, he had grown increasingly cruel in the last few years, emboldened by the new laws that allowed him to fully explore his libido. This was the final straw. Or it would’ve been. She would have divorced him if it were legal for a woman to divorce her husband. Nowadays the only way a woman could divorce her husband without his permission was if he committed a serious crime. Unfortunately for Avery, her husband was a law-abiding man.
It was useless for her to think about these sorts of things, she realized. This was her lot in life, and the role of all women: to serve men’s sexual fantasies, whenever and wherever they wanted.
***
After the meeting, it was back to the toilets so Avery could let the come drip out of her sore ass and she could dwell upon her misfortune. Her financial error was just an innocent mistake! But she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. She was tall, leggy, and attractive; men would make up any reason they could to fuck her. And it was indeed her fault. She had made the billing error, and she had messed up her investigation into the issue, causing her to accuse Sato of missing payments. It was completely reasonable that she receive some sort of punishment. More brownish-white gunk slid out of her rectum, sounding like raindrops as it hit the plastic bag.
Yes, Avery could quit this job, but then she’d be somewhere else sucking, fucking, and shitting for men. They probably wouldn’t even let her do any real accounting at other companies. It was best that she stay here, where at least she could do real work and she generally liked the people.
“Avery,” called Mark, knocking on the door to her toilet stall. His voice was muffled, but still audible. “SPT reports!”
Well, she liked some of the people.
STEPHEN
Stephen watched Mark annoy Avery and chuckled to himself. Mark was such an obnoxious worker. The stupid SPT reports weren’t that important. Mark should really let her shit in peace. Stephen sighed and realized he should do something. He walked to Bradley’s desk.
“Bradley,” he spoke. “You should have a talk with Mark.”
Bradley nodded. “Yeah, he’s a bit high-strung.”
“Also,” added Stephen, “I looked at Avery’s numbers. Don’t get me wrong; her financial work is immaculate. Besides that one little mistake, she’s a great accountant. But she seems to be averaging fucking two workers a week? Those are rookie numbers. Sabrina fucks like two employees a day, every day. We really need to boost morale around here.”
Bradley hemmed and hawed. “That may prove difficult. She’s voiced her displeasure at her… morale work. Recently. Today.”
“Well, I’m sure a man of your capabilities can convince her,” smiled Stephen. “What’s she gonna do? Quit?” Bradley pursed his lips and nodded in reluctant agreement. “Ok, Bradley. Good talk. Oh, and I’m leaving early today. Big date with the missus.” Bradley did a slightly sarcastic salute to his boss and resumed his work.
Stephen felt good about this interaction. As the CEO of the company, it was important to remember the human element and keep everyone happy and motivated. A few years ago, “everyone” meant all the men and all the women. Today, that just meant all the men. Women were now an expendable resource.
It wasn’t that women weren’t important. Women were a vital employee perk. Production was up since the Freeuse Act had passed, not just at his company, but in every company in the country. It was an economic miracle: despite the fact that women’s output had dropped to nearly zero as their roles had been reduced to little other than fuckdolls, men’s output had more than doubled. How had this happened?
Both NGOs and government bureaus tracking economic output had noticed the trends: Men were more motivated, more inspired, and happier than they had ever been. They no longer hated their jobs, nor were they just satisfied. They were satiated at their jobs, and in life. Obtaining sex was no longer a problem, even for the poorest, ugliest, least charismatic of men. Even handsome playboys no longer needed to put time, effort, and money into wooing their most attractive targets, and could force the most prudish and laziest of supermodels to indulge their kinkiest, dirtiest fantasies. Thus, all men benefited from this brave new world of freeuse, and put their extra time, money, and mental load into hobbies and into their work. Men worked harder and they worked smarter. It was if the collective male populace was now in a constant state of post-nut clarity. And it was all due to the socialization of sex and turning cunts into a basic utility to be shared by all.
So as a utility, women were a vital resource. But a single woman was expendable. Stephen could fire a woman and replace her within the week for the same pay, maybe even less. Women’s salaries were dropping like a stone, yet the number of female applicants kept going up. Women were desperate for a job these days, any job, just to avoid having to fuck the unwashed masses whenever they went out in public, and going out in public was now a legal requirement for them. The average woman in the city could get fucked by 5-10 men in a day in public. Those men didn’t care if they were too rough or if they smeared the woman’s makeup or if they ruined the woman’s clothes with come. It wasn’t legal to seriously damage women by cutting them or giving them black eyes, but that, too, still happened all the time.
By contrast the average businesswoman fucked only 2 men a day, and most companies had rules (rules that were actually enforced) to prevent serious injury or damage to their personal belongings (the women). Their coworkers were simply more polite, less violent, and at least had jobs, and places to be. Employed men weren’t allowed to kidnap female coworkers and fuck them for weeks on end. The same couldn’t be said of random men in public. It was no wonder that most women wanted either a job or a husband to keep them safe from other men. And marriage was way down these days. Why buy the cow when he could milk any cow for free?
So if Avery was unhappy, he could just replace her with another woman, who would probably be hotter and fuck twice as many employees for half her salary. He would need to get a male accountant, though, to do the actual accounting work.
Stephen headed to the men’s room, where he knew his girlfriend would be. And just as he instructed, Sophia was there, edging her pussy on the intern’s face and moaning. She was bottomless, but otherwise fully dressed.
“Did you cum?” he asked. She responded in the negative. “Good girl,” he said, hooking a finger into her anus, and pulling her away from Minoko. Minoko gave a tired smile, her face wet with Sophia’s juices and what appeared to be male come.
“Good first day?” he asked the toilet.
“Yes, sir,” she said. Sophia grabbed her pencil skirt and the couple left the restroom.
Even in a world where any man could fuck any woman, Sophia’s shaved pussy received some stares from her coworkers. She was after all, a ten. She had worked in modeling and it showed in her toned figure that somehow possessed a thick ass with C-cup tits. Now she was a secretary and Stephen’s girlfriend. She kicked off her heels so she could step back into her skirt.
“Don’t redress,” said Stephen. “We’re going out.”
Sophia smiled and removed her blouse, rendering her completely nude. She went to her desk, placed her clothes atop her laptop, and returned to her boyfriend in the bathroom corridor. He fished a collar out of his laptop bag and she donned it with pride. Stephen would attach the leash when they got outside.
“Lucky,” whined Jim, watching the couple leave the office.
“Lucky?” asked Hugh. “You fucked her yesterday!”
“Yeah, but she’s not my girlfriend. I could never get a girl like Sophia.”
Stephen was glad to get Sophia out of the dull florescent light of the office and into the summer sunlight where her smooth ebony skin shimmered. It made no sense to cover up her beautiful body; on the contrary, it was an act of kindness for Stephen to make his girl go nude into the world. It was ridiculous that such an act, even if it were her idea, was illegal but a few years ago.
“Where are we going today?” smiled Sophia.
“You’ll see,” said Stephen, smirking.
Stephen walked ahead, leading the way. In his right hand he held Sophia’s leash, which was fastened to the black dog collar around her neck. She walked several steps behind him, nude, silent, and barefoot. Usually she wore shoes outside, even when nude, but the city had really cleaned up a lot in the last few years. Gone were the days of broken bottles and needles on the sidewalk. It was pretty safe to walk barefoot around the city, as long as you were careful.
Sophia padded mindfully through the streets. She wondered where they were going, although she had a feeling she knew. As much as she was beautiful arm candy for Stephen, she loved him back. He was a fun lover who knew how to treat a woman. It didn’t hurt that he was rich and could buy her nice things.
Sophia smirked as they approached Daley Park. A lush grassy break from the skyscrapers, it also housed a dog park, which Sophia knew was the real destination. “Down girl,” he said, as they arrived at the park.
DOGGIRLS
The couple loved pet play, so much so that Stephen was thinking of making Sophia a full-time doggirl. He couldn’t force her to be a dog 24/7, but as her boyfriend and boss, he controlled a lot of her time. And it gave him so much joy to see her on all fours.
Sophia squatted down and got onto her hands and knees. She looked up at Stephen expectantly. Stephen took her off the leash and she ran over the lawn with the energy of an actual terrier. When running she used her feet, never letting her knees touch the ground. She rolled over once and then walked back to her owner, a strand of grass stuck in the curls of her springy jet-black hair. She had her hair styled in a nearly-spherical bob, but it grew wilder from playing in the grass.
There were a lot of doggirls in the park today. Maybe a dozen men (and women) had brought their doggirls to frolic in the park. He noticed one girl pissing with a raised leg and remembered.
“Have you saved up some shit for me?” he asked.
“Arf!” she barked, nodding.
“Good girl. You can release it.”
The demure girl looked around. She didn’t mind being nude in public. Hell, just about every man she had met in the last few years had seen her completely naked. But she was still shy about pooping and peeing in public. What’s more was that she was doing it as a dog, a role she had only recently come to embrace. It was so far from how she saw herself when she was younger. She had been a proud feminist. It made her shudder with shame every time she remembered it.
She took to the new world easily. She quickly realized she was a natural submissive and she eagerly bent the knee to mankind when the laws changed, much to the chagrin of other women. Even her old friends called her a “pick-me” with “internalized misogyny.” She didn’t care. Submitting to men was so hot! Submission had always been hot. She just stopped living in denial of her own carnal desires. Her politics had made her feel ashamed of fantasizing about submission. Now she felt desirable and sexy all the time.
Eventually, all women submitted to men and the law, to survive. Some women still glared at her when they saw how happy Sophia was going nude and fucking strange men, but that was an infrequent event now. After all, those women were doing the same things, just with less enthusiasm. And that was dangerous with the wrong man. Some men didn’t tolerate hesitation or reluctance. Those men would hurt shy bitches, or worse, report them to the police.
Despite her newfound submission, Sophia still felt shy and buried her face in her hands.
“Ah-ah-ah,” Stephen scolded. “Like a bitch.”
Sophia raised her head again, sat up, and widened her legs in preparation. She shook her round bottom and arched her back. A nearly silent fart went, “Pfffft.” With a couple grunts, her wrinkled asshole puffed outward. Her turdcutter receded once, and then puffed out again, this time opening enough to show a bit of her dark turd. A hard, knobby turd broke free of its rectal confines and revealed itself to the world. It moved outward slowly, stretching her trembling rim like Stephen did when he sodomized her.
Sophia lost the downward arch and arched in the opposite direction to more easily push out her log of feces. She looked around and, seeing that no one was staring at her, pushed again. With this effort, the thickest, hardest part had cleared her anus so the rest would just flow out. She breathed a sigh and the thick log fell atop the grass. Her eyes rolled into her head feeling the release of a well-stored turd.
The rest was softer and plopped out of her easily. Plop-plop-plop went the wet, soft stools. Her cheeks reddened as she saw a couple of doggirl owners watching her go. She usually preferred to defecate in private. But it somehow turned her on to be seen shitting!
Yes, it felt wrong, gross, and humiliating to be seen shitting on the ground in broad daylight, even with the knowledge that she was turning on all of her male and female voyeurs. But as a dog, it was… different. She was simply playing her role as a doggirl. Dogs poop on the ground; that’s what they do. If she didn’t poop on the ground, she wasn’t really a doggirl, was she? She’d be a poor one at best.
And it wasn’t her fault that she was doing this; her master made her do it. Even though doggirl play was originally her idea, he was in control. If she balked now, he would spank her and could legally force her to shit on the ground. That left her free from worrying about social norms and being awkward or gross. She was doing as a doggirl was supposed to. Stephen would field any questions from passers by.
Having emptied her bowels, she pissed in the grass, never lifting her leg, but spreading her legs to avoid wetting her own knees.
“Goo-o-ood girl,” was all he said. Sophia beamed. She lived for his approval. She looked at her mess in the grass and laughed. It was crazy what they let her do in public these days. Stephen then requested head and she obeyed.
As Stephen received tribute via Sophia’s mouth, he looked at the pile she had just produced. It seemed impossible that such a beautiful and posh woman had just produced such a large pile of brown. Hell, the fact that this mahogany goddess was completely nude right now in a public park was inconceivable in and of itself. Such was life in this new utopia. The economy was up, crime was at an all-time low, and his business was booming. Life was good.
A man approached Stephen as Stephen had his eyes closed in fellated ecstasy.
“Looking good, twin,” said a voice.
Stephen opened his eyes reluctantly and looked at the man. The man was unexceptional, but his woman—a black woman with long, straight hair and a fat bottom—was gorgeous. Her rotund ass made Sophia’s look flat in comparison.
“Same breed,” he explained. “I’m sorry to interrupt but do you mind if my dog plays with yours?”
The other black girl was also nude, save for her collar. Wondering if her asshole was tight, Stephen surprised himself by hardening further in Sophia’s mouth. But it made sense. He’d been fucking Sophia for months, so even her adequate blowjobs couldn’t turn him on like the thought of blowing out a new cunt’s asshole. Well-trained pussy was heavenly, but new pussy was divine.
Stephen nodded. “She just shat, so your dog shouldn't lick her,” said Stephen. “But she can lick your dog.”
“Bet,” was all the strange man said.
The girls introduced themselves first. After receiving the go-ahead nod from Stephen, Sophia walked on all fours around the other girl, who remained motionless. Sophia checked out all her nooks and crannies, placing a lick of approval on the girl’s breast, haunches, cheek, and elsewhere. The two women massaged each other's tongues in a long french kiss. Then Sophia got behind the other girl and began eating her cunt out.
Stephen, seeing the girls had ended their introductions, presented his quickly-softening cock to the strange doggirl, who the stranger introduced as Princess. He didn’t get the gentleman’s name that decided to kneel and start fingering Sophia.
Sophia wasn’t the most talented bitch; she was a pretty-looking pillow princess most of the time. But she was trained well enough to continue eating pussy while having her own played with. Princess, however, showed almost no sign that she was receiving pleasure when she began sucking the life out of Stephen. Princess focused on the task at hand and although it wasn’t very dog-like, she lifted a hand to molest his balls while she sucked him off. Stephen guided her hand to his ass, so she wet her index finger, slowly worked it up his ass over a few dozen seconds, and tap-tap-tapped his prostate while slurping up his cock.
The other man had flipped Sophia on her back and was fucking her pussy while Sophia tried to eat Princess out. Princess sat on Sophia’s face, which made it a bit easier for her to eat out Princess. Meanwhile Stephen was about to cum. He didn’t want to cum without banging Princess’s bootyhole, but her slippery mouth and persistent finger weren’t holding anything back. Her wanton finger was massaging his very soul, through his ass. It wasn’t long before he nutted hard down Princess’s welcoming throat. He watched Sophia and the stranger in orgasmic bliss, while Princess squeezed every single drop from his cock, and kept on sucking.
The stranger didn’t take much longer. He switched to Sophia’s muddy asshole and quickly came in her warm bowels. He looked a bit disoriented but didn’t miss a step as he told Princess to clean up his “mess.” Princess apologetically stopped blowing Stephen. Stephen was somewhat disgusted when Princess licked Sophia’s filthy asshole clean. Sophia also seemed shocked, only lying on her back with wide eyes as Princess held up Sophia’s legs and licked the shit and come from her ass. Whatever, Stephen thought. It wasn’t hurting him nor Sophia.
Sitting on a park bench, Trevor witnessed the whole scene. These people were philistines, he thought. Exhibitionism, pet play, EFRO… These were vanilla kinks compared to what he was going to get into. He liked it hardcore.
THE BROTHEL
Trevor got up and walked to the subway station where he met up with the rest of his friends. Eager and anxious, the young men teased and joked with each other on the subway train. A couple fucked on nearby seats. They casually watched but would not partake. They were saving their appetites for more exotic delicacies.
They arrived at their destination, Maison des Femmes, and Trevor felt almost nervous. It wasn’t as if he were doing something illegal or immoral. Perhaps it was nerves. Nevertheless, he and his friends pressed on, entering the brothel under its neon pink sign.
Inside was reminiscent of an overpriced bed and breakfast. Nice carpet, a few plants, and two ascending staircases to the second floor. A man in a black tuxedo was conversing with two elderly gentlemen. He paused his conversation to say to the young men, “I’ll be with you momentarily. Meanwhile, please enjoy the lobby cunts.”
On a nearby bench sat the fattest woman Trevor had ever seen. She must have weighed 250 pounds. After thinking about it briefly, he realized he’d seen fatter before the Freeuse Act. Shortly after that, strict standards were set on unwed women, and those who didn’t meet the criteria were sent to prison. Obese women weren’t a thing anymore.
On the other side of the lobby was a woman in a sort of pillory. Her legs were also immobilized in stocks that connected to the pillory via two long poles. The stocks were attached to wheels. It was as if she were stuck in a moveable wall. Blindfolded, bound, and gagged, she was essentially furniture that one could fuck. She wiggled her ass in a suggestive manner, trying to entice the newcomers after hearing them enter. Or perhaps she was just humping the air in sexual frustration.
Trevor’s friend Derek walked over to the fat girl, who was only wearing some BDSM-style clothing with chains. You could see all of her body, especially the curves and folds of her rotund body. Trevor was disgusted. Derek didn’t seem bothered by her fat and began molesting her breasts with her eager encouragement.
“I just think it’s funny,” he murmured, poking and prodding at her flabby body.
“Messieurs,” said the tuxedoed man. “Thank you for waiting. My name is Jean. What is your desire?”
There was a silence as Trevor and each of his friends were confronted with voicing their kinks aloud, in front of each other. “Heh. I, uh,” started Trevor.
“I want to piss all over this bitch,” said Derek. “For shits and giggles, ha ha.”
Trevor and his friends rolled their eyes at Derek’s attempt to guard his BBW kink. Meanwhile, Jean guided Derek to an attendant by the stairs. “Kevin will take you to your room and Ashlynn will follow you shortly.” The fat girl rose and headed to a door marked “Employees Only.” Meanwhile, Derek and Kevin headed to the sex rooms.
“Next?” asked the man in the tuxedo.
There was indeed a woman for everyone who came to the brothel. Most brothels were associated with unusual desires, like those who satisfied Derek’s tastes. This country had codified conventional beauty into law. Almost all women were required to be thin, hairless, odorless, and wearing proper make-up or they would risk prison. Brothels were about the only place one could find women that were fat or hairy or smelly or disabled.
Like his kinky friend, Markus requested an unconventional woman: a hairy lass. Contrary to their deviant friends, Carl and Ahmad selected the Orgy Room.
The orgy room was for more plebeian tastes. Conventionally beautiful women occupied those types of rooms. It confused Trevor, but apparently those rooms were quite popular. In a country where only 6s, 7s, or 8s were allowed in public, orgy rooms were only filled with 10s. What’s more, they were much cheaper.
On the outside, a man could easily find an 8, who had to do whatever he said. However, in brothel orgy rooms, a man was surrounded by multiple 10s who were eager to do everything to turn him on. These women were ordinary sluts (or porn stars) in the days before the Freeuse Act, fucking every man they could, but often in secrecy so as not to lose their employments nor husbands.
The Freeuse Act was a godsend to these women, who didn’t need to hide their ferocious libidos anymore. They could fuck and suck to their hearts content, without hiding their slutty activities. But some of these women were still unsatisfied. Even the horny male species occasionally needed to eat, go to work, or tend to the home. Additionally, after cumming two or three times, most men were not physically capable of fucking again. And now that men could obtain sex every day, all year long, men usually didn’t have the desire to fuck for an entire day. These insatiable women were left unsatisfied. But now, orgy rooms gave these women an unending supply of hard cocks they could drain, in the safety of a secured room. Since they were conventionally beautiful, they didn’t need to live at the brothel, and would usually go home afterwards, returning the next day to sample more delicious cocks. Carl and Ahmad were more than willing to donate their cocks to the cause today.
It seemed silly to Trevor, who found their tastes... pedestrian. Sex with eager gorgeous women was still just sex, and not significantly different from what one could obtain for free in the streets. He, on the other hand, had a taste for something darker, something rarer in this country. He wanted to rape a woman.
RAPE
Rape didn’t exist anymore, of course. At least, a man couldn’t legally rape a woman in this country. Even if he had sex with another man’s wife against the husband’s wishes, the offender was charged with “coveting,” which was illegal, but not technically rape. But at a brothel, Trevor could have sex with foreign girls. Women who were unfamiliar with this country's laws and customs, some of whom were illegally trafficked into the country. Their bodies were often unused or newly broken into. And their fear was unmatched. They always resisted. It was almost like rape, Trevor felt. Something he had always fantasized about, even before it was made impossible by the government. It wasn’t illegal, at least for a patron, nor was it genuinely immoral, at least according to Trevor, but it felt dark and exciting.
Trevor asked Jean if they had any “foreigners” and the tuxedoed man smiled. He knew exactly what Trevor was looking for. Kevin took Trevor to a room, with two women tied to a large bed. One was tied to the headboard; the other, the footboard. Both were folded, with their heels over their heads, allowing easy access to their genitals. They were also blindfolded.
The two girls started nervously crying and praying in Spanish or some other language that Trevor didn’t know. All he knew was that he was alone in a room with two tied up girls that were going to experience his rage.
He first removed the blindfolds. This would allow them to see his face and what he was going to do before he did it. This increased their fear. It also allowed them to see each other, which increased their humiliation.
They were two beautiful raven-haired brunettes, with tan complexions and hazel eyes. He wondered if they were sisters. As he couldn’t understand their words, there was no way to tell. And who they were was less interesting to him than what they could do for him.
“So today we’re going to try to work my fist up your assholes,” Trevor told them, for reasons that escaped even him. He circled them like a shark, unsure of where to begin, their cries rising every time he approached. Eventually he decided lube was an unfortunate necessity and pushed some lube up the asshole of the one with the longer hair while she cried. The nametag over her bed read “Dulce”. Meanwhile, “Rebeca” watched and shouted at him, presumably to get him to stop.
Dulce’s bowels felt good, really good, to Trevor, until he pressed up against a small turd. Just for extra humiliation, he withdrew, pretending to be disgusted. Dulce turned bright red, as he stared at his slightly dirty finger. Even though her little brown gift turned him on, he wanted her to be empty for the main event, so he peered around the room for a solution.
There were several implements around the room (in addition to the lube), and he spied an enema syringe. While it tickled to think of them forced to expel enemas on each other, he didn’t want to waste time for just a tiny turd. Instead, he dug out her asshole and removed the offending stool, barely inches long. He then checked Rebeca, who was clean as a whistle. He patted her on the head condescendingly.
Now they were prepped, he could begin widening their sphincters. Trevor twisted two fingers inside Dulce and she merely cried and writhed in her bonds. It was sweet music to his ears. It had been a while since he had heard a girl cry during sex. While girl tears had been omnipresent during that first year, the women of this country had grown accustomed to their roles as cocksleeves. Now when Trevor pulled a girl aside a girl to fuck them, they were only amused, or worse: bored. He wanted them to hate what he was doing to them; or, alternatively, to love it. Either way, he just wanted a reaction. What was the point of fucking a girl if he wasn’t going to make them feel something?
These girls would remember him, Trevor thought, as he switched from Dulce to Rebeca. Even if they got fucked by thousands of men, they would remember the one who put a fist up their asses. They might hate him, but he would be an important and visceral memory. It was so hot. He kissed and licked Rebeca’s body as he switched to three fingers. She bucked and twisted vigorously as he smooched her chest and stomach. How he wished he could kiss her lips, but that would be too dangerous.
Dulce wasn’t any more receptive to three fingers. Trevor shushed her and cooed for her to quiet down, to no avail. It seemed she really didn’t want him to widen her anus. He almost felt bad for her, as if she were a person. But it wasn’t like forcing fingers into a man; she didn’t have feelings and agency like men did.
This is what girls are for, he reflected. They receive. Most girls liked getting fucked in the pussy, so he figured getting fucked or fingered in the ass wasn’t so bad for them; it was still an orifice. Men weren’t used to receiving. That's why sodomy was unthinkable for himself but probably tolerable for women. It wasn’t comparable. Women he’d fucked outside of brothels didn’t even complain or struggle anymore to receive him anally. So, for women, it must just be a matter of getting used to it. Dulce and Rebeca will be fine with anal, he reasoned. They just need practice. Lots and lots of practice.
He re-lubed his hand and began fucking Dulce with four fingers. It was a struggle. After only getting to the second knuckle, he took a water break. Seeing how they were struggling, he shared some of his water with the girls. After all, he wasn’t a monster. They eagerly lapped up the water.
Breaking a girl’s ass was a matter of time. He had paid for two hours, so there was plenty of time for their sphincter muscles to adjust to his crude activities. But it was hard work. Push, penetrate, twist, pause, twist, withdraw, start again, push, expand, add more lube... Eventually it would pay off. It was a labor of love for Trevor.
He eventually reached his goal with Dulce, taking his time to fist her ass hard like some sort of skin-puppet. Trevor was ecstatic and triumphant. Dulce seemed broken. Not just in her sloppy, bruised asshole, but in her mind. Her face was blank. Her eyes, vacant.
Rebeca could not receive his whole fist. No matter how he twisted five fingers, her ass seemed physically incapable of receiving his whole fist, and he was reluctant to use too much force. Sure, every ass eventually opens to a fist, but he had only twenty minutes left. So, since she had the tighter asshole, Rebeca won the prize of receiving his dick. It wasn’t tight, but it was enough friction to get him off and allow him to spill his seed inside her. How he wished he was one of those guys with a short refractory period so that he could cum in both girls! Such was life. Even in a freeuse country, life was imperfect.
Trevor spent the rest of his time spooning with the girls like a loving partner. Yes, he liked it hardcore, but he also enjoyed some nice aftercare. And even though these girls were just some average whores, even with the limitations of his single-fire cock, and even though he had 99 other problems; in that moment Trevor had satisfied his lust for the day and he felt bliss.