Boryn Stone
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Taking Piss
🕑 Added 2023-05-30 19:26:16 +0000 UTCYou scrambled to the restroom feeling as if you were about to burst, managing to make it through the unlocked door. You quickly closed and locked it before turning to view the toilet, realizing what you hadn't seen before. A man was sitting on the john, stripped wearing only a filthy jockstrap. The next thing you were hit with was the smell in the room: his heavy body odor. It was rank, smelling of days-old sweat and piss, a general build-up of dirt that must have ingrained itself into his skin and dark curls after being there for so long.
You tried grabbing the door to open it, forgetting you had locked it when a wave of dizziness hit from the smell. You were forced onto your knees, your head spinning with the floor taking up your entire vision. You felt sick, your stomach turning from his foul stench, having trouble focusing on anything but staying conscious. You felt the fumes filling your head, slowly replacing all of your thoughts with its fog.
"Why don't you come over here?" You heard from above you. You couldn't think for yourself, the words filling your head with a purpose that your mind couldn't. You felt yourself begin crawling over the filthy tile, hoping that following the instruction would save you, unaware it would do just the opposite. His stench grew stronger and stronger as you grew closer, further cementing its control over your will. You couldn't stop it, your body compelled forward toward it until your head bumped against his knee.
You looked up, finding yourself between his legs in full view of his figure. He stared down at you in contempt, his gaze locking you in place as you drank in the rest of his body. His beard was wild, a symbol of his unkempt lifestyle. A tarnished chain was in view under it, around his neck, the likeness of a pig hanging from it.
The last thing you could see was his erect bulge struggling against the filthy jock, the wet fabric sitting right in front of your face. You knew that was where his musk was most concentrated. You felt your brain begin picking the flavors apart one by one. Dirt and grime. Dried-up cum. Drops of piss never shaken off. All wrapped up in the smell of an unwashed crevice. You didn't know why but you felt an urge in the back of your mind to get closer, fill your nose with it like a canine, but you managed to hold back.
You were panicking, realizing you had made the mistake of obeying him. Not that you could have done anything differently. No matter how much you tried to come up with a way to escape, you couldn't put anything forward, almost like your mind had already given up. You were at his whim, and there was nothing you could do.
