Everyone Has To...
#8 of Notebook
(Content warning: read the tags. It's a serious thought experiment, but also one of "those" stories.)
Everyone Has To...
"And then she's like, 'why don't you come back to my place?' and he's like 'only if I can come in it!'"
Evan laughed, in spite of himself, failing to make the groaning noise he thought was appropriate. David just made him laugh, no two ways about it.
"That's terrible!" exclaimed the green dragon. "So did he?"
"Of course he did," answered the red dragon to his left with a suggestive chortle, "otherwise I wouldn't tell that story, would I?"
"I guess not. Hey, it's great to see you again. My job has just been... crazy lately. They finally got a replacement for Lenny -- speaking of which, have you heard from him?"
"Nah, haven't seen him around here. I think he may have actually moved."
"Really? I'll be surprised if he lasts outside of our little community. But I wish him luck, if that's what he wants. I'm just glad to be back here; it's been... what, six months?"
"Something like that. I noticed you were surprised at the decor change, and that was ages ago. And don't forget to update your app! I bet you'll hate it too, but trust me, it really is better."
Evan pulled out his phone and opened the house app -- mostly used to find hook ups, but could also be used to order -- and sure enough, it started updating itself.
"While this works, I've gotta go to the bathroom. They didn't move that, did they?" he asked wryly.
"Nope, same place as it always was... but I think you'll like the new decor," he suggested with a knowing smile.
"Whatever," Evan just replied with a nervous chuckle. But the way David said it that time was different. It was the same voice he used when he'd set up a prank in their old office on April 1st.
Evan got up, and sauntered past the rows of tables to the edge of the room, where the support beams of the empty balcony created an imaginary corridor. He went to this corridor, then walked past the lounging patrons along the walls to the far end of the room where the restrooms were.
Ducking under the tallest of the three archways (sorted by expected occupant size), he stepped from the wood paneling onto sparkling clean white tile. At least that was the same, he thought: white tile from the floor to half way up the ceiling, and very well lit.
He walked past the row of sinks to the row of open stalls, finding each one occupied until he got all the way to the far end of the room.
He saw no one inside it when he peeked around the corner, so stepped toward it -- but was frozen by the "change" he presumed David was referring to.
The porcelain fixture he expected had been replaced by a much different one: a head sealed in rubber, a cutaway left only so the mouth could rest open limply.
Evan recoiled, and couldn't help but stare a moment as his brain took a moment to process what his eyes were telling him: that wasn't a statue, it was alive. The short muzzle exposed to the air -- either a cat on an exotic mustelid -- was moving and breathing. There was a living furson in there!
"Hey," broke in a voice to his right, interrupting the spinning in circles his brain was doing, "you going to use that?" Evan turned to find a taller-than-average jaguar standing impatiently next to him.
"H-h-how can you use it?" he stammered.
"Let me guess," she said, pushing her way gently past the motionless dragon. "You're new here, aren't you?"
"I've been a member a long time, but haven't visited in six months."
The jaguar got in front of the mouth and pulled down her jeans, squatting down over the head as if it were a squat toilet.
"And you are horrified by the predicament of these poor souls?" she said in a somewhat patronizing voice. "Well, worry no more. They love this job. If you don't believe me, you can ask them."
"How?"
She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, and tapped on it for a minute or so. "Here," she said offering it, "ask."
Evan took the phone, whose casing was suspiciously rubbery and textured, and looked at the screen. A chat conversation had been started on the rather compact display:
Me: Hello. Stall 1: hi Me: i'm going to take a shit. a friend of mine would like to ask you some questions. he is worried about you. Stall 1: yes madam
After looking back at the jaguar for a brief moment -- only long enough to see that she had started doing something he didn't want to watch -- Evan looked back at the screen. He opened the keypad, finding it really awkward, as he had to peck type with his long fingers.
Me: hi Stall 1: hi sir Me: im new to thid do yu like this job Stall 1: yes sir Me: how can u like it Stall 1: they treat me well sir Me: looks to me like they treat u like shit pun intded Stall 1: no really sir i like it Stall 1: it tastes ok cuz i am a freak Stall 1: they treat me good cuz they give Stall 1: morphine and i luv it more than sex sir
That was almost as shocking to Evan as his initial discovery.
Me: they keep u doped up thats criminal
Evan wished he could find the exclamation mark on the strange phone. He would have added four of them.
Stall 1: not to me sir Stall 1: i have been usin for yrs and wasting my life Stall 1: this way i can help others while i waste it Stall 1: this is heaven to me sir
Evan found that hard to believe -- especially because, as the last line was being typed, the jaguar gave a groan, and pushed out a giant fart followed by a small splattering of diarrhea that made Evan back away toward the sinks.
Me: i cant understand it but then i cant understand strait guys either Stall 1: are u near me sir Me: yes Stall 1: when ur friend is finished will u use me sir
Evan hesitated. He did have to relieve himself, but his shock was making him focus less on those feelings, and the conversation was keeping his brain just as distracted.
Evan: i dont want to hurt you Stall 1: you will not hurt me sir Stall 1: i told u i luv this job sir Evan: how do i know you dont just say that to ur users Stall 1: i swear by Mistress Nadeen i luv it
The sudden capitalization of the matron's name created a contrast that speaking the words never could.
Evan: so u voluteerd for this Stall 1: yes sir Evan: are u being paid Stall 1: not 4 this sir i could wait tables and make th same Stall 1: but id rather do this sir
As Evan was typing his next message, a familiar voice spoke directly into his ear: "My phone, please."
Evan startled, but immediately gave the jaguar her phone back, wondering how long she'd been standing there. "How do I talk to him?" he asked as the jaguar started to leave.
"Just use The Club's app, and scan the QR code attached to his ear. And you should tip him; he does a good job of cleaning you up without TP."
In spite of the terrible situation, the idea of a rimjob did get Evan a little excited -- but only for a moment, as his bladder complained and told him to stop thinking about such things.
"Have fun," offered the jag with a smile, and walked out.
Evan quickly stepped into the open stall before someone else occupied it, ignoring the small amount of smell that still lingered in the air. He pulled out his phone, and got the app open. It had fortunately finished updating by now, and yes, the colors were all inverted. He hated it.
But now was not the time to worry about that, he told himself. He bent down to grab the QR code hanging from a small chain on the mask's ear, and scanned it with his phone. Sure enough, a set of buttons popped up, and the top one was Chat.
Evan hit it, and in the window, typed on the much more natural keyboard on his phone.
Me: hi, it's me again. my friend is finished. Stall 1: hi sir will u use me now
Evan still hesitated, even as he typed:
Me: yes but tell me something Me: does the club get your morphine for you illegally? Stall 1: i have a prescription sir u dont need to worry Me: and does everyone else here? i see five of you Stall 1: we all have different reasons sir Stall 1: i can only speak for myself Me: fair enough. i need to pee Stall 1: ready when u are sir
Still somewhat nervous about the idea, Evan unzipped his pants, pulled out his dick, and aimed. It took a moment to relax enough, but soon his yellow stream sprang forth in an arc, dripping only a couple drops on the chin of his target before hitting the gaping muzzle.
The mouth it landed in did not react badly at all. In fact, the head tipped back and the tongue moved so that it could eagerly start swallowing, while continuing to keep the mouth wide open. Evan had to be careful not to adjust his aim, since the changes didn't require him to, and he didn't want to miss.
After 20 seconds of swallow after swallow of his thick yellow stream, with more to come, he heard a chat message appear on his phone. He was too busy peeing to check on it; besides, it would probably disrupt him, since no matter what it said, it would be a shock to his system. After 30 seconds, he got another.
It wasn't until 45 seconds passed -- a typical pee for Evan -- that he started to slow down, as he ignored a 3rd message. In order to avoid changing the aim, he flexed his muscles and squirted the last several bursts pretty hard, making sure they went the distance. When the volume of urine in each squirt diminished, he took a step closer so that he was right over the waiting mouth, and then relaxed to drip the last few drops into the mouth directly from overhead.
Only now did Evan look at the messages:
Stall 1: wow sir u must have had to go Stall 1: sir ur tank is amazing Stall 1: sir u r makng me so hi riht now
Evan didn't know what to say to that. After a few seconds he settled on:
Me: u ok?
The answer was immediate:
Stall 1: oh yes sir fel god jst fuzy
Evan didn't like the looks of that -- the missing letters especially.
Me: u sure ur ok? Stall 1: sure sir beng hi snt bad Me: how does my pee make u high? Stall 1: not ur pee sir swaling liike moves a rathet
It took Evan a moment to decode that.
Me: what does "swallowing moves a ratchet" mean? Stall 1: how much morpine i get is like rachet u moved it alot sir Stall 1: ur tank is huge sir is reealy ogod
Evan thought it was a compliment, but was still a little embarassed about it. He sheepishly typed:
Me: i'm average for a dragon Stall 1: dragon i shud have guessef sir Stall 1: u taste wondurful sir
Another compliment Evan didn't know how to accept. But it was time for other things...
Me: i've got to poop, too. are you sure you're ok? i can use another stall Stall 1: im fine sir please go ahead Me: i don't want to make you o.d. Stall 1: oh dont worry sir i am coming down Stall 1: the level drops fast and i can take alot Me: if you're sure. i don't want you to get too fuzzy Stall 1: ive been through much worse sir dont worry about it feel free to poop sir Me: but i don't know if then your customers wanted to talk to you Stall 1: 90 percent talk sir even if they are not as cncrned as u
Evan's bowels reminded him they needed to be emptied with a surge in pressure. He just typed:
Me: then get ready. here it comes Stall 1: ready when u are sir
He pulled down his pants, squatted, and slowly lowered his anus down until the bottom edge of his tail touched the rubber. He could hear the tongue start hanging out, and feel the breath tickling his tailhole. And it was the breath that made him tense up, and unable to relax.
Me: i'm sorry, this is really weird. i don't know if i can do it. Stall 1: no need to aplogize sir is it my breathing
Evan was surprised at how quickly the problem was identified by his... receptacle.
Me: i think so
The breath stopped tickling him.
Me: i can't ask you to hold your breath! Stall 1: ur not sir i have a breathing tube Stall 1: i was just hoping to taste ur poop sir Stall 1: i will wait to taste until u drop it sir
Evan still had a pang of empathy at the thought of pooping in someone else's mouth, but tried to reassure himself that the receiver would enjoy it. It was no different, he tried to tell himself, than the occasional favor he did for friends when they wanted their subs whipped by a big "scary" dragon.
Me: here it comes...
Evan started pushing. He wasn't used to doing this in a squatting position, but somehow his muscles seemed to relax even more naturally than usual. As a result, without even really thinking about it, he started pushing out the first brown log. It got to be half a foot long before he pinched it off.
Because the mask's nose was touching him, he could feel the mouth close momentarily to chew a couple times with loud smacks and swallow.
Me: how are you doing? Stall 1: just fine sir Stall 1: ur shit is not bad what have u been eating
Again, Evan didn't know how to answer that, so he simply typed the first thing that came to mind as he started pushing out another log.
Me: at the club i usually eat their hamburgers. they're really good for some reason Stall 1: really sir i didnt know a burger cud taste like this Me: maybe its because i like hot sauce on it Stall 1: thats probly it sir
He got another heavy, wet log pinched off into the mouth, which promptly chewed and swallowed. But it was at this point that his stomach gurgled.
Me: something feels wrong in
But before he could even press send, the pressure in his guts changed. Evan shifted himself in order to push his tailhole down more on the rubber lips of the mask. The head beneath him adjusted effortlessly to his new position.
Evan pushed, and this time got a wet fart, the sound of which was (fortunately) mostly absorbed by the mask. The same thing could not be said for the smell.
But after another couple of bubbles of gas, several soft brown logs zipped from his ass all at once. The mouth dealt with it, however, by seeming to suck them down and swallow two of them at once.
Evan relaxed and took a breather for a moment. He decided to type:
Me: sorry about that. i tried to warn you Stall 1: no prob sir i will eat anything Stall 1: do u have more for me sir
Evan wanted to just focus on his body.
Me: i'll tell you when i'm done. give me a min Stall 1: sorry sir please take ur time sir
That made Evan feel bad.
Me: i'm sorry, i didn't mean it that way. i just need a moment Stall 1: i understand sir ill wait as long as u need
Unfortunately, while Evan was waiting for his bowels to shift, his legs were starting to burn. As a result, he had to stand up first. A message came in instantly
Stall 1: if ur getting tired sir u may sit on me how ever is cmftable for u sir Stall 1: my neck is supported under neath Me: it's not that. squatting low enough is hard Stall 1: u can raise me up sir by using ur phone Me: really? how do i do that? Stall 1: just back out of this chat and hit the button
Evan was surprised, but hit the back button. Sure enough, one of the buttons was Change Height. He typed in three feet, and hit OK.
He dimly heard a motor running behind the wall, and slowly but surely, the section of the floor surrounding the mask all the way back to the wall started to rise. The tiles that appeared to make up the floor revealed a large box, which had rubberized mesh that seemed to unfold like a convertable top.
During the half minute of waiting, Evan became less and less comfortable as his bowels finally moved far enough along. When the motor turned off, he sat down on it immediately, aligning his tailhole in the same way.
Before he could even re-open the chat, however, his body gave him the urge, and he pushed hard. Out came another fart, followed by another wet, heavy log. This one he tried his best not to pinch off. It just got longer and longer, growing slowwly inch by inch. When it was a foot long, he felt the throat beneath him jerk strangely, and then swallow -- without the mouth closing.
He kept pushing it out, getting it to a good eighteen inches before its weight finally broke, and the end dropped into the waiting maw, leaving only a tiny piece behind. When it did, he reopened the chat window.
Me: i'm think i'm done, but i'm not sure. Stall 1: take ur time sir
Evan just sat a moment. He didn't feel anything else coming, but just wanted to make sure. After a minute of flexing and relaxing and feeling nothing else, he typed:
Me: ok, i'm done. Stall 1: would u like me to clean u sir
Evan's heart skipped as he thought about what that would mean. Immediately, he typed:
Me: oh please
Immediately, a tongue reached out and touched his scaly skin, making Evan flinch as it blindly stumbled its way to his tailhole. But once it got licking, with plenty of saliva, it felt really good. He imagined it would feel even better in case someone had eaten something spicy.
It also got him sporting a hard-on before he even realized it.
Me: that feels good Stall 1: glad u like it sir Me: don't stop Stall 1: yes sir
Even once Evan was clean, he found himself taking out his dick and pawing himself. He imagined that his rimjob was being given by -- an otter? A weasel?
Me: what species are you? Stall 1: im an otter sir Me: and are u a guy Stall 1: yes sir
Just what Evan wanted to hear.
Me: i'm sure you're attractive. Stall 1: thank u sir
He so enjoyed the feeling that just thinking about the otter was enough to get him pre-ing. He was still a bit embarrassed at the amount of enjoyment he was getting, so all he could type was:
Me: get ready for a surprise Stall 1: ready sir
And not ten seconds later, Evan stood up, and with a couple more jerks, came. He let his cum spew out of his dick, and though his aim wasn't perfect, he got most of it into the wide-open mouth.
As Evan was catching his breath, a message appeared:
Stall 1: i hope u enjoyed urself sir Me: yes, i did. thank you for everything. i'm still embarrassed. Stall 1: its my pleasure sir dont be ashamed Stall 1: private needs r my job and i love it Stall 1: evryone has to go and evryone has to cum
Evan couldn't help but smile at that pun. He was grateful... but he still couldn't shake the feeling that something more ominous was at work.
Me: before I go, tell me something Stall 1: name it sir Me: what is the worst part about this job?
There was a pause longer than any there had been thus far, before the answer appeared in a series of messages.
Stall 1: boredome sir Stall 1: if no one needs to go or i dont get picked then im stuck here Stall 1: i am comfortable but i cant move i cant go anywhere i cant do anything Stall 1: i must sit and wait for someone to use me Stall 1: and if its too long the morphine drops down low and life feels Stall 1: slow and sad Stall 1: im sorry if that depresses u sir but its the truth
Evan wasn't depressed, so much as reassured.
Me: it was the truth i wanted. i feel like i got it. i just feel Me: like this is a trick, or a crime, or something. Stall 1: trust me sir when i say that the crime is not using me Stall 1: for too long Me: just how long are you kept in there, anyway? Stall 1: i get in at 4 and get out at 9 sir Stall 1: its the earliest hours that are the hardest Stall 1: but the evening makes up for it Stall 1: esp when there is a big party with drunk males evrywere Me: even i can see the fun of lots of drunk males Stall 1: haha Me: it was good, um, using you. thank you. i mean that from the heart. Stall 1: it was a pleasure to serve u sir Stall 1: please consider tipping me with a button on your phone Me: what does that do? Stall 1: it ups the morphine ratchet to make slo time easier Me: then that's the least i can do. have a good evening. Stall 1: u too sir
Evan closed the chat window, and pressed the Tip button. It displayed a green check mark, and nothing happened -- though, if he wasn't mistaken, the mask's head twitched a bit and shifted, so he presumed the hit occurred.
He finally put his phone back into his pocket, wiped up the cum from his dick, put it back into his pants, and then pulled up his pants.
As he stepped away and washed his hands, he spied a German Shepherd stepping into the stall he'd just left. He presumed that would mean the otter would have a good night after all.
The End.