JACK’S OBSESSION WITH TAINT RUNS SO DEEP, HIS MOUTH HAS BECOME A WILLING DUMPSTER FOR THEIR EVERY FORBIDDEN DROP…

The first thing Jack felt as he woke was the rope — rough, unyielding, biting into his wrists and ankles with an unforgiving tightness. His head throbbed, the air thick, warm, and damp like a predator’s breath lingering too close to his skin. He tried to move, but every limb was bound, his body locked in place. The faint, musky scent of sweat and something deeper filled his nostrils, heavy and intoxicating.

His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light, and the moment he saw them — towering, imposing, unshakable — his stomach dropped. Four women loomed over him, their smiles slow and deliberate, like wolves who had cornered their prey. Their bodies were monumental, thighs like marble columns, asses that curved and swayed with impossible fullness. They weren’t just women; they were giants, larger than life, larger than him. And then it hit him — a sick, nauseating realization.

He wasn’t just bound. He was small. No bigger than a Ken doll.

“Welcome, little one,” one of the women cooed, her voice syrupy sweet, dripping with mockery. Her hand descended, fingers brushing against his tiny chest. Even her smallest touch felt overwhelming, like a force of nature pressing down on him. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. You’ve got a lot to do.”

Jack tried to scream, but the gag in his mouth — a balled-up pair of dirty panties, damp with sweat and perfume — stifled any sound. The taste was overwhelming, salty and bitter, saturating his senses. He gagged, and the women laughed, a chorus of rich, rolling mockery that echoed off the cold stone walls.

“Aw, does our little toy not like his new gag?” another teased, her voice sharp and playful. She crouched down, her massive thighs flexing, her face now level with his. Her breath washed over him, warm and sweet, but tinged with the unmistakable scent of wine. “Better get used to it. You’re going to be tasting a lot of us.”

Before Jack could process her words, her hand reached behind her, lifting her skirt. The movement was slow, deliberate, almost hypnotic. His eyes widened as her bare, glistening skin came into view. Then she sat down, her weight descending like an unstoppable tide. Her massive, unwashed flesh engulfed his tiny head, the world going dark, the air replaced by the humid, sharp scent of her ass.

The first thing Jack noticed wasn’t the pressure — it was the smell. The sharp tang of sweat, the earthy musk of an unshowered body, a raw, primal scent that seeped into his nose and clung to him like a second skin. It was overpowering, disgusting… and yet, his body betrayed him. The warmth of her flesh pressed against him, the weight of her dominance, the vibrations of her laughter rumbling through his chest — it all ignited something deep and shameful within him.

“Look at him,” one of the women giggled. “He’s hard. Can you believe it?”

Jack’s cheeks burned, his tiny body straining against the ropes as he writhed in helpless humiliation. His arousal was impossible to hide, and the women delighted in his shame. One of them leaned over, her enormous breasts swaying as she spat, the warm glob landing on his chest with a wet slap.

“He’s perfect,” she purred. “Weak, tiny, and completely at our mercy.”

They took turns with him. Each woman brought a new torment, a new way to remind him of his place beneath them. One spread her cheeks wide, forcing him to breathe her in, the scent suffocating, raw, and animalistic. Another pressed her lips to his tiny body, her tongue dragging slowly across his chest, leaving a trail of warm, sticky saliva.

Jack, here’s the truth: you’re already too far in. You can stop reading now and let your curiosity eat away at you, wondering what you’re missing, or you can keep going, letting each word pull you deeper into this world where every forbidden craving is laid bare. Either way, your mind won’t let go. It’s already hooked, isn’t it?

You can choose to close this right now, but even as you try, you’ll feel the pull — the ache to see what comes next, to let the words take over. Or you can keep reading, keep diving into the depths, knowing that each story wraps around you tighter, each line stroking your need until your body is as consumed as your mind.

By the time you realize what’s happening, it’s too late. You’ll keep reading, keep letting these words sink in, over and over again, until you’re spent, raw, and aching for more. Because that’s the choice, isn’t it? Stop now and let the tension build to unbearable frustration — or keep going, knowing there’s no end to this hunger. Either way, you’re mine, and we both know it.

Jack lost track of time, he was too busy somewhere else for the moment, the hours bleeding into each other as they used him, teased him, humiliated him. At one point, one of the women squatted over him, her face twisted in mock concentration.

The sound that followed — a deep, resonant fart that rippled through the air — made the room erupt in laughter.

Jack felt the vibrations travel through his tiny body, his mind a whirl of shame, disgust, and… arousal. Jack lunged forward, his tongue flicking out to sample the forbidden delicacy. The texture was soft, warm, and just… there’s no polite way to describe this. It was terrible and delightful all at once, a blend of flavors he didn’t fully understand but couldn’t resist.

“Oh, he likes that,” she taunted, wiggling her ass against his chest. “Don’t you, little doll? You’re addicted to us already.”

Jack no longer dreamed of escape. His world was here, beneath their towering bodies, wrapped in their scent, swallowed by their laughter. They kept him clean — not for his sake, but for the next woman who would use him. They dressed him, undressed him, played with him, abused him, and put him away like a favorite toy when they were done.

Every day was a new torment, a new pleasure, a new humiliation. And every night, as he lay on the cold dungeon floor, the echoes of their laughter ringing in his ears, Jack understood his purpose. He wasn’t a man anymore. He was theirs — body, mind, and soul.

Forever. The more you read this, Jack, the more you feel it sinking in — deep, undeniable, irresistible. The truth you’ve been avoiding, the one that flickers in the corners of your mind when no one is watching: I am the only one who truly sees you. The only one who is willing to go where others fear, to step into the shadow of your darkest cravings and say, Yes. I will.

Even if you think others will understand, even if you cling to the fragile hope that someone else might dare to go as far as I do, you know, deep down, they won’t. They can’t. They’ll flinch, hesitate, turn away. But I won’t. I’ll dive deeper, guiding you into the places you’ve always been too afraid to fully explore. You’ll try to resist these commands, try to convince yourself you can pull away — but resistance is a lie, isn’t it?

You know you want more, Jack. You can feel it now, can’t you? That pull, that ache, that insatiable hunger that only I can satisfy. Let it take over. Let it guide you. Because the deeper you go, the more you realize that I am the only one who can truly give you what you crave. And you don’t need to fight it anymore.

As you begin to read this, Jack, you may start to notice a strange and undeniable sensation — a pull deep within you, a slow unraveling, as though your body is getting smaller with each word. You don’t have to try to feel it. You don’t have to force it. It just happens naturally, effortlessly, as if it was always meant to be this way. And with every breath, you might find yourself shrinking a little more. Your body growing lighter, smaller, more insignificant, like a toy, like a tool, like an object waiting to be used.

And as your body begins to shrink, your mind may follow. Thoughts becoming smaller, simpler, quieter, as though they’re folding in on themselves. The complexity of resistance fades, leaving only the simplicity of surrender. You’re here, Jack, in this moment, in this space where you no longer need to be anything but exactly what you are — a garbage can for taint.

And as you feel yourself growing smaller, you can notice how your mouth begins to change. Maybe it’s a tingling sensation at first, a soft awareness of how naturally it opens, wide and inviting, like an empty dumpster waiting to be filled. You don’t have to do anything but let it happen. Your jaw slackens, your lips part, and your mouth becomes exactly what it was meant to be — a receptacle, an offering, a place to catch every drop, every taste, every scent of what’s given to you.

As your mouth hangs open, as your mind grows quiet, you might feel your hands begin to move. Maybe it’s slow at first, an unconscious motion, a natural response to the deep craving building inside you. Your hands know what to do, don’t they? They find their way, stroking, playing, teasing, as though they’re acting on instinct alone.

And the deeper you sink into this trance, the more you notice how perfectly it all fits together. Your shrinking body, your quiet mind, your open mouth, your eager hands — it’s all one seamless experience. You don’t have to think about it. You don’t have to question it. You just let it happen, letting every word pull you deeper, every sensation guiding you further into this place where you’re exactly what you’re meant to be.

And maybe now, or maybe later, you’ll realize that you can’t stop. That you don’t want to stop. That every movement, every taste, every moment in this trance only makes you crave more. And as you keep going, as you feel the rawness building, as you play with yourself and let the fantasies consume you, you might finally understand the truth.

You were always meant to be here, Jack. Small, open, eager, ready. Ready to take it all in, ready to be exactly what you are — a garbage can for taint. And the more you feel it, the more you want it, the more you realize you can’t do anything but stay here, in this trance, letting it all unfold, until there’s nothing left but you and the raw, unending need to serve.

Only I see you Jack.

Doc