So... I never got over the things that happened to me in high school. I never moved on with my life. I existed. I allowed myself to live in the moments of my greatest humiliation. I lived tied up in that van where they pissed on me, lived in that pool of filth. I don't know if I've really lived anywhere else since, until Gordon and Dick Bigsuit came into my apartment, shackled me to a platform, and packaged me up for shipping.
These long weeks traveling on the train, I've had nothing but time to replay every humiliating memory of high school and after, like how I sucked up to my English teacher, for extra credit and attention. Each time I did, I knew in my heart I needed- wanted him to take advantage of me. That I would be a slut for his use, and that thought comforted me. I'm sure he knew, and within the first week, on my hands and knees, I had his cum in my belly. Within the second week, he had taken my ass, and everything left of my self respect.
"I knew you wanted it bad, cum dumpster."
Each time I remember his voice repeating what they all called me, my body fucking orgasms like Pavlov's dog. I feel it more and remember the specifics less. Even if the mass of my breasts and belly didn't prevent my self pleasure, my shackled hands in front of me would have. I ground my nipples into the crate for stimulation, and by the time the train hit the last stop, just the memory of cheerleaders pissing on me in that van, made me cum.
Gordon unloaded the crates containing Jesse Lee and myself from the boxcar on the train. I could hear him huffing and puffing with the exertion of shifting the weight of both me and my crate from the train to the loading bay. Jessie Lee sniffled and cried as our crates came back together. When I started hearing other voices talking to Gordon, I was too scared to call for help, and Gordon, Gordon still wasn't talking.
"Gordon! Go! Go on you useless beast, back to the pen. We have treats for you. Get going!"
This person sounded hard, dismissive and jaded, a crisp east coast cadence. He walked with a heavy step, dragging one heavy boot a fraction of a second longer than the other. Gordon moved quietly towards the direction my crate was facing. Through the gloryhole, I watched him turn and pause before continuing to walk away.
"He almost looks sad, when he leaves them behind."
This one, a younger man, stepped lightly and moved quickly, his voice drawled a bit, as if he had been raised in the Midwest, and tried to hide it.
"You know as well as I do that Bulls don't have the capacity to think or feel until they've been processed back in to the herd. You! take that delivery straight to security. Don't unbox it until you're inside, the boss wants answers and doesn't want anyone else asking questions. The chief of security can figure that one out."
They had a Dolly to move the other crate. The men fumbled the box, and I heard the sickening sound of Jessie Lee's head smacking the side of the crate.
"Careful jackass! The freaky one might be valuable."
The older, angry man never even paused to hide his contempt for us.
A third voice at a distance snapped sharply.
"Yes, sir!"
"It's dangerous to start projecting human emotions on them. Do better kid."
They talk like I'm not listening.
I don't know where Jesse Lee is anymore.
I can't see much from inside my crate, and she must be out of earshot if she's even still conscious after banging her head. I don't know if this is the end of the line or if there is further to travel. I'm having trouble remembering things for more than an hour at a time. Not that I had much to see in the box, every hour Gordon fucked my face or my ass, twice a day he cleaned me up. I used splinters to keep track of stuff, because otherwise I'd forget. It's either my orgasm or his cum that makes it hard for me to remember, the waves and spasms of pleasure wash away my short term memory. I still remember my life, I still remember being led on by that jock in high school, I remember how they humiliated me in the van, how they left me covered in muck. I remember how hard I orgasmed while they pissed on me.
I can't remember his name anymore.
I feel like there used to be more room here in the crate, granted, I have no idea how long I've been in here. I feel like I haven't felt the sun on my face in ages.
I locked myself away voluntarily before this. All alone in my tiny efficiency, working phone jobs from home, so that I could stay naked on the couch instead of being out in the world. I watched porn all day, and masturbated until I was too fat to reach my pussy.
I was lazy and sad, and I took what the world gave me.
I'm locked in a smaller box.
"Jessie Lee!"
I hissed out hoping the one friendly voice I new would hear me.
"Jessie Lee?"
"That little gender bender misfit can't hear you piggy, she's been shipped off to another part of the farm. You need to worry about yourself now. Time to uncrate the bitch boys!"
Pneumatic tools rattled the outside of my box, the noise vibrated right into my bones as they removed the top of my wooden prison. Cooler air rushed inside, making my nipples harden against the crate floor. As the fasteners dropped out, the pressure of the panels on my hips and buttocks decreased until my ass broke away the last few bolts, slapping the crate sides down.
In the too bright sun, I tried to shade my eyes, but my wrists and ankles remained shackled down to the floor of the box.
"Well how-dee-do, piggy, you're a big girl ain't ya? Your fat ass literally busted out of the crate."
My eyes hadn't adjusted, and over the glare all I could see was vague shapes. I smelled sweat and sawdust, men.
"Our stock in trade are heifers, but you take the cake sweetheart, lots of it."
Someone swatted me on the ass, hard, bringing tears to my eyes.
"Clean the piggy up."
High pressure water sprayed at me from three directions. Faceless people hosed off my skin with brutal efficiency.
"Use some soap, and the scrubbers, she's a dirty one. Make sure you get under her udders, down by her cunt and deep into that ass crack."
The stinging stream of water lingered on my asshole forcing water into the place Gordon fucked ruthlessly. The pressure of the hose changed, when a rough gloved hand shoved the end of the nozzle up my ass. Warm water filled my gut, and I cramped.
"No more!"
They men surrounding me laughed, low and guttural, while aggressively scrubbing me down. My belly filled to the point where the water sprayed back out. Those same rough gloves quickly replaced the hose for the giant butt-plug Gordon used to keep his mutagenic spunk deep inside me.
I wept as the other two high pressure sprayers worked their way down to my nipples, under my breasts, and into my cleavage. At the same time, a gentler hand scrubbed small circles into my pussy, making me hot. I stifled my moan, terrified to let them know I was enjoying any part of this.
"Unlock her, get her off the crate, roll her back on her haunches and clean her belly, she's pretty filthy. Good old Gordon has done a number on this one, filling her up with his mutie cum, I think she's probably farther down the curve that any of the bitches the bulls have brought in so far."
"Was she always this big, or is this what happened because Gordon spammed her?"
"The boss says, a little from column A, a little more from column B. He said she was well on her way in high school."
"The boss knew the target in high school?"
"That's why we let Gordon loose near her."
"The mutagen has done a number on her."
"As far as I know some women, like her, have a predisposition to it."
