Taking Piss (Extended)

You 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 him say 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, 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 his filthy jock, the wet fabric sitting right in front of your face. You could tell 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.

You felt his dirt-coated hand begin to stroke your head, easing its weight off his knee. "Good boy" He said, wrapping his fingers around your chin and bringing it back up to his stare. "Weren't you gonna take a piss?"

You were immediately reminded of the pressure in your bladder from those words, followed promptly by its complete relaxation. A wet warmth began spreading across your groin. You had been so distracted by his stench you had completely forgotten about it, but now that you were completely in his control you had no reason to hold it any longer. You heard the pattering of piss on the floor dripping from your now soaked pants, a small pool forming under you, the room quickly mixing with its acrid scent.

You felt a pit of embarrassment grip your stomach. You were still unwilling to accept the ownership the man had over you and your lack of control. He seemed to see it in your eyes, opening his mouth once again.

"That's ok boy, I'll just load you back up again," He said, pulling back his stained jockstrap.

His dirty cock came into view for a moment before the wave of its scent wiped your mind, removing all your inhibitions and letting your instincts take control. Your head pushed forward onto the hard nub, wrapping your lips around it as your mouth filled with his taste. It was the filthiest popsicle you'd ever had, warm, covered in dirt and shit, almost like it had been rolled around in manure. You felt a warm stream of fluid hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag for a moment before your reflexes took control, guzzling it into your stomach.

You were disgusted by your actions, your skin itching with discomfort, your nostrils overwhelmed by the smell of his piss rising back up from your stomach. You felt your vision fading as the vapor condensed in your head, replacing your last thoughts with its flavor. You slumped forward, your face buried into his groin, an empty vessel meant to be filled.

He pulled you back, looking into your empty eyes, glazed over with submission before prying your mouth open with his dirty thumb. He began to stroke himself, his cock lubed with its own grease, quickly finishing into your mouth and wiping the remains on your face. He pushed you over onto the floor, his cum dripping from your lips as you lay there unmoving in the filth. He left the room, leaving your soiled body as just another tool waiting for its next user.