Tattooed Across Her Ass by Rude Zude
Summary:

Kim readies herself for a night out. Being plastered to her rear end in the form of a magically imbued tattoo, you're left with no choice but to tag along. Will you be able to endure the sweltering heat beneath her shorts? A 6000-word commission based on a writing.com interactive!


The rest of the story will be released over the next week or so, but you can find the entire thing up for only $3 a month over on my patreon
https://www.patreon.com/rudyzudy


Categories: Young Adult 20-29, Object, Body Exploration, Body Part, Butt, Couples, Entrapment, Humiliation Characters: None
Growth: None
Shrink: Minikin (3 in. to 1 in.)
Size Roles: FM/m
Warnings: Following story may contain inappropriate material for certain audiences
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 3 Completed: No Word count: 6426 Read: 11452 Published: May 31 2022 Updated: June 12 2022
Story Notes:

I went a little overboard in this one and probably spent far too much time editing. But regardless, this one has plenty of entrapment and, above all else, humiliation. I mean, can you imagine? What an abysmal position to find yourself~

1. Part One by Rude Zude

2. Part Two by Rude Zude

3. Part Three by Rude Zude

Part One by Rude Zude
Author's Notes:

The day's just ending, a new night rising from its weary ashes. Steam creates a healthy fog across the sliding glass doors of the shower as Kim finishes scrubbing her body clean. It's been long enough that you struggle to gauge how long it's been since you had a normal body. The ability to eat, run, and talk. These days, you're nothing more than a trinket decorating her ass.


Recently, everything seems to be going right for your captor. A few weeks have passed since Kim got her new job, starting what you figure will be her future long-term career. Some comfortable sales position that you can’t argue she doesn’t deserve. She’d put some serious effort into going after it. You’d know better than anyone, being stuck to her ass and all. With nothing else to occupy your mind, you’ve become an invisible observer in her everyday life, through the ups and the downs.


Kim steps fresh out of the shower, her feet hitting the linoleum tiles. She dabs off some moisture and hangs the towel; moving to trace her ass gently, your host lets her a few inquisitive fingers slide over you. There’s a smile on her lips, probing at the familiar tattoo with a digit, watching the fat of her butt sink as Kim presses down. “Never gets old,” she says with a short laugh, talking more to herself than you. Really, you don’t get much acknowledgment from her these days. The only time Kim ever speaks to you directly anymore is to tease and lord her power over you. Either out of boredom or to get herself off. It’s maddening to think your life has been reduced to some sick sexual gimmick.


Most days, you feel like a passing thought for this girl of Asian-American descent. You’re a constant reminder for Kim of how powerful she is, kept on a total whim. While you were left downright ignored most days, she’d frequently use you to get off, reveling in the unbridled power and control she has over you before promptly covering you up with tight panties. Or, if it was a lazy day, a long t-shirt. It's a fate you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy, the feeling of being less than human.


"Are you sick of all the ass you get yet?" She asks rhetorically before answering her own query, "Dumb question. Doubt that's even possible for a guy." Kim starts getting dressed, humming to herself, and occasionally checking her texts. She’s giggling as new friends send her inside jokes within their group chat. It’s hard for you to fathom someone who seems so normal being capable of this. Are you so unimportant that you don't warrant more than a snide remark now and again?


"Yesssss!" She squeals rather suddenly, hurrying to her closet. "Finally, I get a chance to wear this cute thing!" She grabs an over-shoulder summer shirt from the hanger, mixing it with a pair of cutoff short shorts. She's positively giddy, shaking her hips to an invisible celebratory beat, ready to have fun and show off some skin.


Kim slides over to the mirror and lets the outfit hang in front of her. With the help of a full-body view, she envisions herself with it on before smugly holding it behind and giving you a half-baked peek at what she'll be wearing tonight. "Whatcha, think? Any objections?" She snickers, knowing you can't possibly respond. "I didn't think so." Even after all this time, those comments sting. If only she knew how badly you wanted to respond. Being beneath her is frighteningly lonely.


“Hmm…” Kim scrunches up her face, thinking, “It definitely feels like a thong night.” She reaches over to a nearby drawer and slides it open, grabbing the first one she sees—the salmon-colored elastic slides right up her legs, resting snuggly on her hips.


Next, Kim begins the humiliating process of slipping on unreasonably tight jean shorts. A method you know all too well by now. They glide up effortlessly at first, coming to a roadblock around her more muscular butt and upper thighs. She has to shimmy them up, finessing them forward as the skin covering her glutes molds with the restrictive waistband. You, of course, are displaced and stretched with the skin, your tattooed form warped as she desperately tries to fit into a size too small.


“Shit, these things are practically welded to my butt.” She says, amused as you finally disappear into the darkness. Finagling them up to her waist, you hear the pop of a button, shutting you away for what will assuredly be a long night out on the town.


Whenever Kim puts on pants, loneliness becomes a constant—separated by an additional layer from the world. The sensation of isolation is one you’d gotten used to long ago. The environment is often muggy and stifling, but worst of all, it's sickeningly empty. Devoid of most stimuli that your starved mind craves. Yet you’ve learned to adapt out of necessity. Primarily for your sanity, coping with extended hours in the dark is an essential skill you've been forced to acquire. 


Regardless, Kim continues to shuffle around, straightening her hair, applying makeup, all the usual rituals you typically associate with the average girl getting ready for a night on the town.


She directs her attention toward you one more time before heading out. You feel her hand press against the outside of the denim, a firm pressure followed by a light pat. “How is it? Snug? Warm?” Another question you couldn't answer. She runs a hand across the outer fabric, and you hear a distant clinking of metallic keys in her other hand.


VrrrrrrVrrrrrr


Her phone buzzes without warning, vibrating her entire cheek as it rattles around her back pocket. The rhythmic pulses of an active call cause the very skin around you to light up with activity. It's an uncomfortable feeling, thousands of tiny pinpricks hitting you all at once. But Kim thinks nothing of it, and she squeezes a hand in with some difficulty before answering just in time.


She throws out a greeting, and a voice you can’t discern blares excitedly on the other end, “Mhm, you know it! Can’t wait; I’m totally ordering that daq' Kelly was talking about the first chance I get! Yeah, I’m just leaving now.” She continues a rather superficial conversation where you find yourself only privy to one side. You aren’t quite sure how long she’s on the phone. However, you know she's met several friends since her move and employment change. She isn't a big shot or anything, not exactly. But she'd been making connections like no tomorrow. The girl moves fast, and despite the circumstances, you have some vague respect for her hustle.


She hangs up the phone just as the latch of a car door can be heard, jamming her hand roughly down her pants again, pressing the fabric into you as the rectangle is forced against her backside. It rides against you for the entirety of the trip, poking and jutting its way into the tattooed skin of Kim’s glutes.


"Oh my god, heyyy!" Kim greets her new friends as the club's loud music overwhelms you. Even with the buffer of this constant prison, the song itself is absurdly loud. You're practically able to picture the atmosphere. People of all kinds, dancing, drinking, and above all else, having a good time. Something you no longer have the luxury of enjoying. You’ve never been a fan of crowds, but it's hard not to be envious. Before all of this, you had such a lackadaisical attitude towards life. So much time you’d wasted not living it to its fullest. Maybe it's true what they say; you don’t know what you have until it's gone.


"So glad you could make it!" Says a voice you can't place. Truthfully, with most of your days spent in the dark, you sometimes have difficulty distinguishing these superfluous connections Kim’s been making recently. Identifying people by their voice alone is a skill you’ve gotten better with over time, but it's still something you find exceedingly tricky. So many people come and go that the whole memory game becomes a struggle without faces.


"So, you girls do this every Friday?" Kim asks casually, sitting down and causing you some initial discomfort as her butt shifts around the booth, trying to get cozy. Her phone continues to thrust its bulky frame into you, jamming itself into what was once your mouth.


An entirely new voice speaks up this time. There’s a lazy drawl to it, with a hint of pretentiousness. "Oh, not every week, but we do try! Unfortunately, this town can be dreadfully boring if you don't know how to keep yourself busy." The song changes, obnoxiously loud; it further dilutes the conversation to the point of it being unintelligible. Kim, of course, continues to grind impatiently into the seat. You know by now that it wasn’t even meant to tease you. It's simply a nervous habit that she didn't care enough to correct—a lifetime of careless fidgeting that worsens your situation.


They catch up on the week, talking about mundane work-related gossip. Eventually, after some chatter, the song changes, and the first voice to greet your host speaks up, "Okay, time for drinks! First-round is on me, ladies!"


Kim leans forward across the table, excited, causing the muscles of her ass to stretch. Your body feels close to tearing as the skin bends you effortlessly around her butt, conforming you to its lovely shape. You feel the strain, each muscle and ligament beneath you working together to make the movement possible. You can't help but marvel at what her body is capable of. It's such a simple action, but it requires so many moving parts to work correctly.


Kim’s friend, who you now suspect might be Kelly, hastily takes orders for the table and heads to the bar, leaving the remaining ladies to continue their conversation uninterrupted.


"So, tell me! How are you liking it? New job, new apartment, is it tough?" Someone asks with a measure of concern.


Kim shrugs it off, "Oh, it's no biggie. It's been a lot to take in, but I have my tricks to keep cool." She clenches her butt in response, a gesture that had, over time, become something akin to a wink. A subtle nod towards the predicament you’re trapped in. Although, the entire cadence of the conversation is suddenly interrupted by an unseen event just beyond the walls of denim. Kim leans further forward, reaching for something. The action rubs your stretched body relentlessly against her tight shorts, smearing your face into the straining material.


"Thanks, Kelly!" Kim says as the clinking of classes indicates she's returned. The drinks are doled out, and the girls start sipping on them without skipping a beat, gossiping, and getting increasingly giggly as the night wears on.


From your position beneath her, you can't help but subconsciously start to block out the droning of Kim and her friends. It's all so frivolous. Just a bunch of small talk with a few inside jokes tossed in. Kim has had more than a few glasses, and being the short Asian-American lightweight she is; the girl is probably feeling it. 


"Oh myyyy god! No way! I love this song!" Kim suddenly blares, oblivious to the level of her voice amid the deafening atmosphere of the club. You're thrown upwards, her butt once again forcing the fabric, and you, to bend toward its will.


She starts to move, her rapidly degrading balance noticeable as she rises to her feet. She's off-kilter but still more than able to dance. Her stride feels loose, and you can feel the friction of her derrière as both cheeks lightly brush against each other with each step.


Your time beneath her has been absolute hell, but you hate when she walks most of all. The very motion of her legs stretching and twisting your entire body uncomfortably. But that was old news, something you’d quickly become accustomed to no matter how much you hated it. Though, you’d never seen her dance before. Not like this.


You're thrown around left and right, her entire waist moving with the music, shaking and gyrating to the song. Even in the darkness, it makes you dizzy, tiny traces of light poking through the jeans now that she’s soaking in the intense rays of the dance floor.

End Notes:

Thanks for reading! The rest of the story will be released over the next week or so, but you can find the entire thing up for only $3 a month over on my patreon c:
https://www.patreon.com/rudyzudy

Commission info is down below if you find yourself interested!
https://www.deviantart.com/rudyzudy/art/Rude-Zudes-Pricing-Sheet-COMMS-OPEN-902922606

Part Two by Rude Zude

"Wooo! Go Kim!" Someone loudly chimes in, managing to beat out the music.


"Get him!" A second chirps.


"You go, girl!" The third shouts excitedly.


A series of lighthearted cheers break out from her friends in the booth as Kim gets increasingly bold with her movements, a pressure suddenly hitting you from just beyond the wall of her jeans. Her dancing switches from erratic to calculated, revolving in a circular motion against something reasonably stiff. It presses into you, giving you the urge to scream. You know what it is almost instantly, another man's crotch.


Your entire body, or more specifically, Kim's whole butt, is pressed roughly into a stranger's pelvis as she dances the night away, molding into him as something hard presses against you. Oh, fuck no! You shiver, repulsed by the sensation of another man's erection impacting you between two layers of fabric. It's your only relief, being so close yet so far away.


The encounter doesn't last. Kim quickly moves on to another target; this one seems far more aggressive with their movements. A pair of hands grab just above you, leaning into the beats and guiding her actions while the music blares overhead.


As the night continues, there's a pervasive musk from inside the party girls' tight shorts, your sense of smell remaining very much intact since the incident. It's not outright foul, but a heady aroma of activity as the alcohol leaks through her in the form of sweat.


The presence behind her dominates regardless, the scents enclosed and imperceivable to an average person. Kim only picks up in response, grinding with more force against the rigid shape that’s poking through. She’d jumped through hoops to make you feel like dirt, but this is a new low even for her. A new depth you never thought could be reached. You feel gross, a captive of her sweaty drunken grinding. Tonight has proven that things could decline even further, shaming you beyond what you initially thought possible.


Despite your place in the sweltering dark, you can tell she’s jumping around the floor, with different movements and rhymes indicating a new dance partner every few minutes. Eventually, she heads back to her friends, sitting back into the booth and leaving you to be pressed into the padded seats yet again, her sweaty ass slathering itself against the shorts as you're left squashed under her cheek.


“What about that one?” Kim asks on the sly, her voice off-kilter from the steady supply of alcohol.


“Him? Oh my god, you should totally go for it! He was all over you.” One of the ladies remarks.


“Easy on the eyes, too.” Another voice chimes in.


“I wonder, like, how much he’s working with?” A third girl pipes up.


Kim responds to the question with confidence, “I’ll be sure to let you know if I’m feeling it tomorrow.”


A chorus of giggles and lighthearted ‘Ew’s’ sound off before the world shifts again, your host raising back to her feet. Alarm bells go off; she wouldn’t actually hook up with someone, right? Kim hadn't done anything like this in all the time you’d been plastered to her butt. Using you like some cheap toy was practically part of her routine by now. But adding someone else to the equation startles you. Though, maybe it's a boon in disguise! Perhaps whoever she was planning to get with would take pity and get you away from this psycho.


It's not long before Kim puts her plan in motion, the grinding sensation coming back in force. The humiliation, the sweltering heat of being caught in the middle of lustful titans, it gnaws at you. You’re shocked as a hand suddenly grabs at you from beyond the fabric, squeezing and molding Kim’s bubble butt to whatever shape it wants. You squished further into folds of skin, the oppressive atmosphere doing you no favors. Kim’s excited, and the heavy scent of arousal is starting to creep in as the hand is replaced with more crotch and plenty of eager grinding. The intense motions make you dizzy, finding yourself popping in and out of conscious thought.


You feel yourself going mad, losing grip on the ever-dwindling hope of being free. How much longer would this go on? How many more nights did you have to endure like this? Would you be trapped till she turned old and gray, forced to live through this dime a dozen party girl's wild twenties? Drinking, sleeping around, going to work hungover. You’re just living life alongside her, only relegated to the lowest position possible—a fixture right near her asshole. You feel yourself going mad, losing grip on reality just as the hand decides to loosen its grip on you.


"Heyyyy, buy me a drink, maybe?" A tipsy Kim asks, her buzz likely starting to fade.


A suave voice answers back, "Anything! What were you thinking? Top shelf, cola, Jack? Actually, just tell that magician over at the bar. The guy can mix better than anyone I've seen. Really works some magic." You can immediately tell why Kim’s interested, the guy talks up a big game, his voice confident and strong.


Much to your dismay, the two head for the bar, the ever-constant bobbing of her butt returning. She pushes her way through a crowd you can’t see but can very much feel. It's packed tight; Kim needs to effectively swim through some sections to reach the bar. A few strangers press firmly against Kim's rear end in the commotion, smearing stale sweat from dancing across your face. She's subjecting you to horrible conditions, yet the intoxicated party girl couldn't be wiser. The fact that she can torment you without even trying isn’t something lost on you.


You're almost happy when she sits down. Maybe the oppressive climate would thin out with her no longer in constant motion.


"So, come here often?"


She laughs, "Really? Is that the best you got?" Her response is a challenge conveyed in the form of a lighthearted jest. It's something she'd heard many times before. 


But her impromptu dance partner takes it in stride, "Jeeze, tough crowd. Well, you've clearly danced before. Like damn, you had some moves! And moves like that deserve a drink free of charge." He says coolly.


"Oh, really? You just wanted to congratulate me? How sweet of you." She delivers the tail end of the sentence with so much fire it stuns the man into a brief silence before he quickly recovers. "Right, names! I'm Greg!"


"Kim!" She replies with a hint of grace.


“Sorry for the wait! What can I get for you two? Starting with the lovely lady, of course.” They order their respective drinks, and the bartender hastily serves their cocktails before rushing off to help more party-goers. Kim and Greg continue to flirt, sipping on their glasses somewhat superficially. It's a dance of wit, both fiery and sufficiently hammered.


It's not long until her newest boy toy makes a courteous order for an uber, and the two get in together, eying each other with an unspoken lust as they head to Kim's new place. Her friends give her hollers and thumbs up as they walk out of the club doors and into the chilly autumn air.


             The two emerge from the blue sedan. Kim’s apartment is just a short climb up a flight of stairs. Greg helps her out chivalrously, which she responds to with a teasing jeer, “I’m not that drunk, you know.”

             Greg simply smiles, “Oh, I’m well aware! I just figured the princesses have help getting out of their transportation, so why wouldn’t you?” You can practically see Kim roll her eyes, sassy as always. They begrudgingly climb the stairs, Kim removing her uncomfortable dress shoes during the climb, only to fumble with the lock at the top of the landing.

             “Ugh, stupid… THING!” She pushes the sticky lock open with a forceful shove, grinning as they’re finally allowed entry to her abode. “I need to get the complex on that. Sorry.”


              “Oh, don't sweat an old lock,” Greg says, taking a seat on the couch. Kim eyes him, setting her purse down and slowly walking over, only to kneel before his crotch. She bites a lip, looking up at him with devious intent.


“Question. Can I see it?” She asks. A wordless shifting of clothes follows, ending with the simple tug of a zipper. She lets a gasp of excitement flow from between her lips. “Probably one of the nicer dicks I’ve seen. You wouldn’t mind if I….” You feel her drop further to the floor; any hope she wouldn’t go through with this shattered.


              You hear the smacking reverberating loudly from your prison, punctuated by a few intermittent groans. Kim works Greg’s shaft audibly, sucking on the head with several loud pops. Two adults enjoying themselves while you sit in misery on her ass. Her lips around Greg's engorged head, Kim grinds you into the carpeted floor. She rocks back and forth, polishing the very top with vigor. During the humiliation of being forgotten, you feel a hand grip Kim’s rather generous butt once again, molding and squeezing you in conjunction with the sounds of her enjoyment. It pulls her up, and they begin a rhythmic exchange of tongues. Greg and Kim are on the same page, moving quickly through all the beats and expected stages of a one-time deal.


            You find yourself getting worked up, imagining how much worse it’ll get in only a short while. You can practically taste how turned on Kim is, the thong doing little to block the intense scent. It's trapped inside, the tight shorts giving it no route to escape. All you can do is hope you’ll get a much-needed break from the haze once her clothes inevitably come off.  It's small comfort compared to the rest of the night, but it would be something. A small win amid a night full of losses.

The fierce sounds of sexual enjoyment stop abruptly, and you feel the temptress stand up, shaky from the alcohol pumping through her. There’s an interaction that you can’t quite decipher from sounds alone. Luckily, Kim saves you the trouble, addressing Greg directly.

            “Why don’t you head to bed? I just need to get cleaned up!” Greg needs no further instruction, and the two split, Kim working to quickly ready herself. The shirt and shorts come off first, everything plummeting onto the floor one after the other. You’re always amazed when it happens, the contrast between the dank, musty air and the merciful moments when Kim either took a shower or decided to lounge around in the nude.


             The flurry of water starts with a twist of her hand and steam quickly fogging up the bathroom. Stepping in, she asks you rhetorically, “So, what do you think of Greg? Isn’t he cute?” She pauses before letting out a giggle as the water touches her warm skin. “That’s right; you haven’t gotten a good look yet. Don’t feel left out, though; I’m sure you’ll get a front-row seat to all the juicy bits.” She takes a hand, massaging the area you're part of relentlessly. Your whole life is just a game to her. Something she can leverage and ultimately have fun playing with. 


             Water pours across her slender frame, washing off the dirt and eventually adding a generous quantity of suds. She coats herself thoroughly but makes sure to work her ass harder than usual. Her assault torments you with a sea of soapy foam. You can’t suffocate anymore, but it doesn’t stop you from panicking, being able to taste the harsh chemicals coating you thoroughly. Alarm signals go off as the swath of bubbles permeating her soaped-up butt grows, Kim continuing to lather them into her skin.


“I wonder if he’ll think it's funny.” She muses, making sure the entrance to her butt is immaculate. “I bet he’ll think you're gross once I tell him how much of a creep you are!” There isn’t any teasing in her voice anymore, no light bullying. Like some otherworldly force fuels her, it's heavier, a power trip that has gone too far. She lets a finger stray down for a minute, a gasp escaping her lips before pulling back.


             “I can’t wait to show you off.” The shower stops abruptly, the harsh water flow coming to a slow trickle. Dripping wet, she dries off with a nearby towel, only giving her hair and body a few short pats before spending a generous amount of time on her backside, making her intentions painfully clear. Not bothering with any clothes, Kim steps out into the hallway and saunters over to her bedroom, her hookup lying in wait on the aquamarine covers of the bed. His member is standing impressively hard, standing fully at the ready.

             “Wow,” Is all he manages to muster, seeing Kim walk through the door, still soaked from the shower. She walks past the bed, letting him marvel at her backside as she grabs a brush near her mirror and tidies up a few stray hairs.


             “You're telling me…." He says in awe. "You look unbelievable!” Even though this brat has put you through hell, you can’t help but feel jealous of Greg, watching as he lightly strokes it to Kim’s body, keeping himself hard and waiting for an opportunity to have his way with her. You can see him ogling every inch of her, given a perfect view of the horny smooth talker she’s picked up as she frets over her hair.


             “Why, thank you! Now, where were we?” She asks, pivoting around and taking slow strides toward the bed. But Greg can’t take any more teasing, pulling her in the second she gets close enough to grab. She squeals, pleasantly surprised by his strength. They roll around the sheets, entranced by the body of the other. She loves the force of being pulled and pushed around, leaning into it when he puts her on all fours.


"Mmm, fuck yes! Push me around a little." She coos as Greg grabs for her ass, momentary confusion spreading across his face as he notices the peculiar tattoo.


"Hey, what's up with this guy?" He asks, perplexed.


"You want the real answer?" She wiggles her ass teasingly in response.


There's a hesitation before he puts two and two together. "No way, that tattoo bullshit? It's all real?" Greg looks astonished, almost as if he's seeing double.


She giggles, "Yup! Just as real as that butt you're looking at. Caught this creep being a total weirdo while I was working a summer job."


"Well, well, well, I guess he's gotten his just desserts then, huh?" Greg chuckles before giving you a little slap. The flesh you're a fixture of bounces in such an alluring way that he's prompted to grab the other cheek with more force.


The expression on his face chills you. It's not a growing concern but an expression of outright curiosity. You're worth nothing more than some cheap thrills. "Won't lie to you, Kim, seeing someone at the mercy of your ass, just forced to deal with it, the whole thing is hitting me just right. You're a girl full of surprises, aren't you?"


Kim scoffs at the attempted flattery, "You have me naked already. You don't have to butter me up like that." She wiggles her butt, prompting him to give her a rough slap. He hits right on the mark, smacking you and sending the mass of flesh jiggling once again. It stings, your senses momentarily uprooted for a cheap shot of excitement.


             “Mmm, much better. Take control.” She says softly.


"Right, I guess it's time I show our audience how to treat a lady right!" Greg grabs both of her cheeks, working her ass, planting kisses along the surface of the adjacent mound. He works towards the divide, ignoring you while his finger parts the mountains. There's a groan from Kim as he moves his mouth to reach its true goal.

End Notes:

Thanks for reading! The rest of the story will be released shortly, but you can find the entire thing up for only $3 a month over on my patreon!
https://www.patreon.com/rudyzudy

Commission info is down below if you find yourself interested in a story of your own!
https://www.deviantart.com/rudyzudy/art/Rude-Zudes-Pricing-Sheet-COMMS-OPEN-902922606

Part Three by Rude Zude

Her ass is taken care of better than you ever could. You can tell immediately that whoever this guy is, he's got plenty of prior experience. His tongue and mouth tenderly kiss the wrinkles of her freshly cleaned butt, still moist with the shower's warm water. The dark exterior of her exit receives just as much care as the outermost region had. His eyes suddenly pop open, fixated on you as he dutifully continues pampering Kim's butt, but not before giving you a subtle wink.


It's infuriating! You're filled with rage at the disrespectful gesture. You were used to Kim taunting you, but what gave this pretty boy the right? Though, no matter how angry you get, you realize acting on those emotions is an impossibility. Greg pulls his mouth back for a breather between lengthy periods of treating her right. He looks over at you and remarks, "Gotta say, having an audience is pretty hot."


"Fuck yeah, it is," Kim remarks breathily before making a quiet plea, "Oh my God! Please just go in. Please…" She begs, causing a grin to pop out along Greg’s handsome mug.


He looks right at you, "You heard the lady. Hang on tight; things are bound to get bumpy!" Greg rises to his knees, towering far above you and Kim, his cock pulsing in his hand. She can’t see it from her position, but you can tell by her fidgeting that it's highly anticipated.


Suddenly Greg takes action, rubbing his hard cock lazily across her folds. Kim buries her head into the bed and screams. The perpetual slick of moisture permeates the room. You feel a mixture of emotions. Hatred, embarrassment, and jealousy. An endless series of questions swirl through your head. Were you not more than this? Does what you're accused of really warrant a potential lifetime of silent torment?


Greg proceeds, making sure his head caresses her clit, spreading open the cozy hood protecting it. He puts a hand right alongside you for some stability before bringing his hand down across the opposite cheek. It's so powerful, more forceful than the first time. It scares you. A slap like that would leave you reeling. Being a permanent part of Kim's butt meant you’d be hurting for weeks because of a minor bruise.


"Hey, you have any…."


"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Here" She reaches over the side and produces a clear bottle of pink fluid. Greg eagerly helps himself.


"It's that tingly shit." She remarks, watching over her shoulder as Greg squirts his hardened shaft with the colored gel. She eyes it, watching him sufficiently coat it in the sticky substance. With a sneer, he takes the rod's base in one hand and slathers the head across Kim's ass. He enjoys the feeling, her butt smooth and plush. The giant begins to flick you with it childishly, quickly growing bored when he realizes getting a reaction isn't possible.


"He doesn't leave much of an impression, huh?" Greg doesn't try to hide the amusement on his face.


"Oh, you have no idea!" Kim chimes in, "I forget he's back there for weeks."


"Ouch, poor guy. I'd say I feel bad, but I really don't." He smirks, placing the tip of his penis right against Kim's asshole. It slowly pushes its way inside, vanishing with a wet pop, the titans gasping with a deep-seated hunger. It's not long before he's thrusting with a heavy rhythm, his eyes glued to Kim's cheeks.


THWACK


He smacks her hard across the butt, his hand skipping off you like a stone to water. Everything stings, each nerve ending on fire as he vents his sexual energy into her warm skin. It's accompanied by the slapping of his crotch against the fat of her ass, completely dominating her. His hands guide each duration of her hips. And based on the noises coming from Kim's mouth, she's been enjoying every second.


ThwapThwapThwap


"I don't think I'll last much longer," Greg says, his voice in apparent duress.


Kim's quick to respond, "Mmm, you should give the little guys a taste." Greg doesn't wait on it for long; He pulls out, the ring of her asshole flexing as he does, nudging him over as powerful muscles force him out. Greg's eyes glaze over, and he lets loose several thick ropes across you, unapologetically painting her shapely posterior white. Caught in the crossfire, you find yourself in a losing situation, helpless to stop it. Your only option is to sit still in disgust, your vision obscured by Greg's load. 


"Fucking perfect. I nailed that little shit!" Greg says, proud of himself on a job well done. "Now, what do you need, beautiful?" He goes on to ask courteously as a yawn overtakes him.


"Oh, I'll just finish up in the shower. I have work tomorrow, so I don't want to wake up all sticky." She grabs a few tissues from the nightstand, carefully dabbing the gunk off you. Thank god.


"Well, if you change your mind, the offer is open. Is it cool if I spend the night? Or…"


"Oh, I don't mind. Do your thing, lover boy," Kim remarks with a hint of sass. She heads out the door and down the bathroom hall, still reasonably excited. Sweaty, sticky, and ultimately exhausted, Kim closes the door, humming happily as the shower steams to life for the third time tonight. As she waits for it to heat up, Kim lets a hand drag across you.


"How does it taste? Another man's cum, I mean. Never knew you had the appetite for it!" She steps in the water, not bothering to wait for a response that would never come.


The water hits her just right, heating her already warm body and relaxing every muscle in her body. Kim has always been a big fan of showers. In fact, when she was younger, mom and dad often kicked her out early, knowing she'd spend over thirty minutes inside given the opportunity. However, tonight isn't a night she plans to spend in the bathroom.


"Even though you're more boring than my goldfish, it's such a rush to know there's always somebody beneath me." She tenderly runs a finger through her soaked folds, peeling about the wet skin.


"Right next to my butthole. And you know what's funny? I bet a few weirdos out there would kill to be in your place!" She continues the barrage of humiliation, each fresh insult only serving to grow her arousal.


"Guys are always being gross and checking out my butt. I guess you know firsthand now that an ass is used for far more than just anal." She says condescendingly, "And you see it all." Kim bites a lip hard enough to taste metal, her fingers continuing at a steady pace before reaching a big crescendo, "I can’t even imagine. But I c-can try!" A shiver travels through her body, knees weak as Kim cums with one final shudder. Fluid and water mix, riding down her legs in a diluted and sticky jumble. Any mess she makes is quickly washed down the drain—no hassle, and certainly no complaints from Kim.


You listen to the ambient droplets of water hitting the floor as Kim presumedly basks in the feeling for about a minute or so. The water caresses her body as her mind comes down from above the clouds.


"We should get back to our discount Romeo," She says with a yawn. It seems the nights finally caught up with her as well. And just like that, you're forgotten once more. Conscious but trapped just above the skin of this immature twenty-something. You're literal cells on a bratty girl's ass, lower than dirt. And that's how it will likely remain. That's the day you finally gave up any lingering dreams of returning to everyday life.


Some days are better than others, but as they stretch further and further apart, she stops acknowledging you entirely. It's gradual, your twisted sessions of cruelty going from multiple times a week to numerous times a month before cutting out completely. Kim's adult life matures, and she simply doesn't have time to play these games any longer than she already has. You witness as she grows more successful in her chosen career, eclipsing her coworkers quickly with her fiercely competitive nature.


Soon, Kim's a manager and a good one at that. Her submissive nature doesn't carry outside the bedroom. Being in charge of so many others seems to suit her. She's a fair boss but takes little bullshit. All in all, it's safe to say her life gets relatively hectic for a while. At first, it's a blessing. Finally, you’re free from regular harassment. But as boredom sets in, you start to miss it. Part of you craves those twisted days when she'd use you for thrills. Anything is better than the deafening solitude.


After years of suffering as a living talking point, you lose it entirely, and a part of you becomes firmly convinced that you belong here. It's a fitting punishment; you start to reason. Karmic retribution from a devious goddess that never should have been crossed. Day in and day out, you mentally beg for a second chance, but it's wishful thinking. Regardless of the powers at play, you know by now that Kim can't read minds. As expected, nothing comes from any of your sorrowful pleadings.


Soon, days become weeks, and weeks become years. Eventually, decades later, it's almost imperceivable to picture yourself as anything other than a tattoo across some girl's ass.

End Notes:

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