This story was written by Chaos Grey.  Don't steal it.  Any
resemblance to real people or actual events is coincidental.
I am not resonspible for anything that may result from someone
attempting to do anything written in this story.  Though, please
send any accounts, photos, sketches, or videos that you may get
while attempting to recreate events in the story.

To contact the author and tell him now much you liked the story
or send him photos, videos, accounts, etc.of actions similar or
pertaining to those found in this story,
email: thechaosgrey@yahoo.com

This story contains:
Anal, humiliation, domination, scat, piss-enema
_______________________
Shopping Trip

     Bree woke with a yawn, and stretched out her thin arms
to the sunbeam that invaded her small room through the
curtain-less window.  It was warm on her bare skin,
caressing her naked body like the soft hands of a gentle,
caring lover.  She came to wakefulness with a smile as she
rubbed her bright blue eyes of their drowsiness.
     
     She stood from her mattress, the old, worn springs
groaning in protest from even the slight shift of her
miniscule weight as she set her barefeet to the chilly
concrete floor and lifted herself from the floor.  She
stretched once more, nearly grazing the low-hanging ceiling
with her extended fingers – in a few more years, maybe she
would be tall enough to touch it, or even place her palm
flat against it - as she stretched, before bending low to
reach her toes.  She could touch her fore-head to her knees
easily enough without any warming up.  She wondered if, with
enough practice, she would be able to tuck her head between
her legs and kiss her own ass.  Bree smiled at the thought.
     
     There was little in her room, but that didn’t matter,
since she never spent much time in it.  The ripped and worn
mattress lay on the floor against one wall – such an
improvement from sleeping on floor itself.  There was a
truck on one side, and she knew it was filled with all kinds
of toys and tools of pain, but it was locked except for
playtime, so Bree used it as a seat most of the time.  There
was a small table, too, with her glass of water on it, and
sometimes some food when she was good.  The water was
refilled every night while she slept, unless she was bad,
but it had been a long time since that happened.
     
     Today, however, there were cloths on trunk, draped
across the old rounded top like shrouds over a coffin.
Bree’s smile vanished from her face and her skinny body
began to tremble.  Her heart was racing, crashing with
thunderous quakes in the cavity of her chest, the noise
swarming in her ears, making her dizzy.  She tried to gasp,
but found it hard to suck in enough air to fill her lungs.
     
     She stumbled, but caught herself on the trunk before
she could fall.  She closed her eyes and stood there, in her
self-imposed darkness, and tried to force herself to relax,
to fight off the chilling panic that gripped her body.  She
bit her lip and opened her eyes again; she was mere inches
away from those garmets, and she started at them with open
dread.
     
     Clothing, or at least, clothing like this that
concealed her body rather then enhancing or displaying it,
meant she would be going outside.  Outside meant people.
     
     Bree shivered against the chills and cold sweat that
broke out across her skin.  She wondered how the sunbeams,
which had been so warm mere moments before, could now become
so dark and cold.
     
     She took up the shirt first and slid it over her thin
frame.  Their were no sleeves, and the powder blue thing
hung loosely on her body, which lacked the substance and
form to fill out such a piece.  It looked absolutely
featureless on her, except for the two small nubs of her
nipples.  Her skin had always been especially pale, but Bree
had dark red-brown areola and nipples, and in cloths as
flimsy as this, the much darker color was easy to see
through the material.  Her nipples were also particularly
long and thick, especially in comparison to her small,
undeveloped breasts, which seemed like nothing more then
small lumps of smooth round flesh on the ridged ribbed
landscape of her torso.

     Looking down at her tits – and she could barely bring
herself to think of those small things with such a
voluptuous word – she frowned at the how much her nipples
poked out of the material, making their presence known for
any and all who would see her.  And, to her dismay, the
utter dismay and shame of knowing they would be so easily
seen only made her nipples harder, painfully so, in fact,
and they jutted out all the more.
     
     There were panties this time, but as Bree held them up,
she knew they would hide less then her shirt.  The fabric
was so shear that, even held aloft before her face, she
could see right through the amazingly small undies.  Even
the gusset, which appeared thicker then the rest of the
seemingly bare-existent garments was translucent.  With a
sigh, she put them on, surprised by how snuggly they fit her
twig legs and thighs and how the band held so tightly
against her boney pelvis. They were too small, even for her,
but she knew she had to wear them.
     
     The pants were much looser, but hardly more concealing.
Thin, like gauss and white, the tone of her skin was easily
seen through the material.  They tied at the waist and hung
down to her ankles, and the shape of her thin legs was
remarkably easy to follow from foot to hips through the
pants.  Bree was sure that, if she had any public hair at
all, anyone looking at her from ten feet or less would be
able to count each and every one through pants and panties.
     
     She frowned as she sat on her trunk, waiting.  Her feet
couldn’t reach the floor, so she kicked them out and back,
rocking nervously on her seat.  Her stomach was knotted and
twisted, painfully so, in anxious dread.  There were many
things she would do without care, without worry, without the
slightest bat of an eye, but going out of the house was not
one of them.  She found it utterly horrid.
     
     Men leered at her, usually with visible, vile lust.
She could almost hear the lewd thoughts swimming through
there minds as they stared, picturing her naked and
servicing them in hundreds of filthy ways.  From young boys
to old, dirty men, she could feel their desire for her body.
But that wasn’t so bad, not really.  She was used to
performing for men, used to rousing their lusty whims, and
often satisfying the same.  She preferred to play for them
and with them, it felt much safer with those men then the
ones she would come across once out and about.
     
     But women were worse.  Far worse.  Sure she had played
with women, too, but even after pleasuring them, when it was
all over, they seemed to despise her.  Even during,
sometimes, they seemed to hate her and her body even as they
used it for their own enjoyment.  And still, those women
were, by far, much better and nicer then the ones out side.
The ones that truly hated her, the ones that would and could
take no delight her body at all, and thought of her and
nothing more then a sick, twisted little thing.  They would
sneer and stare and call her names.  Not always to her face,
but she heard their whispers when she walked by.  And even
when they said nothing, she could feel their loathing, feel
it burning from their eyes and into her as she passed.
     
     Bree shuddered again at the thought, and hugged herself
tightly, hoping, wishing that she would not be taken out
today, not taken somewhere and pranced about for all to
stare at and lust over or hate.
     
     But she knew there was nothing else – no other way.
The cloths she wore were chosen just for that, just for such
torment.  There was nothing else.  She would have to sit
here and wait.
     
     The minutes trickled by, gatherings into hours before
her door was open.  Her body trembled as the locks turned
and the doorknob twisted.  She was sore from the hours of
waiting, and her stomach hurt.  Had she eaten anything, she
never would have kept it down, not that she felt hungry.
Not that she had food to eat, either.
     
     He came and grabbed a fisted-full of her long, waist-
length hair.  He didn’t pulled her; he didn’t need to.  The
straight, brown locks were a lease of sorts, and he did not
tug and yank unless he had to direct her path or get her
attention.  She knew where to go, and offered no resistance.
There was no need for him to pull.
     
     He led her to the van, and she sat up front with him,
shying away from cars that passed on her side, trying to
sink down deep into the high seats, conceal her presence
from the world that zoomed passed her.  From time to time,
when they were stopped at red lights, she could glance at
the vehicle next to her and see the eyes looking back.
Sometimes their were men who called out to get her
attention, whistles and clever phrases to make her look at
them.  A few women called out as well, but their words were
never nice.
     
     Bree bit her lip and did her best to ignore everything,
to keep her mind focused and her terror down.  Her composer
fell when she saw it loom out before her – their destination
she knew as soon as it met her gaze.  Her body shook with
fright and once more the air escaped from her lips and
refused to return.  She wanted to cry.
     
     The Mall.
     
     The monstrous thing loomed before her, and the thing
she was aware of was walking towards it, his hand on her
back, pushing her forward.  She felt like a sacrifice being
taken to the monster, the little girl meant to appease the
crazed beast.  The glassy mawls open wide before her, and
with little effort, he pushed her through.  It didn’t take
much – she walked and he directed with simple pressure on
her back.  She didn’t need to think or feel or do anything
at all, only respond the way she always had, the way she had
been trained to.  And she did, without fail.
     
     And then she was amongst them, the crowds of people.
The bumped into her, on purpose she though.  The men to try
to get a feel of her body against there – she figured even
in passing quickly, anyone could feel the grazing of her
hard nipples against their skin.  The women, she guessed,
bumped her to be rude, to show her they were better then
her.  She shied away from them when she could, but with so
many people, it was hard to do.
     
     He took her to a store, a lingerie store full of the
clothing she was used to wearing, though never wore out of
the house.   He whispered his command and pushed her forward
towards the store.  She had to go in alone.
     
     Timid as a mouse, she walked around the store, slowly
checking out every item as if it held some magical property.
She lingered around the men in the store, particularly the
ones with women near-by.  She felt the men wanted her.  She
knew the women hated her for it.  And as she went, she would
collect some articles, the small, frilly, revealing things
that men loved to see her in before they ripped them off of
her.  Many of the guys in the store seemed to be noting,
with amazement and lust, these garments.
     
     And then, as they watched, she went into the dressing
room to try the outfits on.  It was a simple matter to slip
out of her shirt and pants and panties and to slide into the
lingerie she had gathered.  The first was a corset, the
smallest size they had that when pulled as tightly as she
could, barely held onto her waist.  She slid on the small
pair of matching crotchless panties and snapped the thigh-
high stockings in place.  Taking a deep breath to steel her
nerves, Bree walked out of the changing room.
     
     She strolled boldly onto the floor, out in the open for
all eyes to see.  She kept her own gaze solidly forward
until reaching the center of the floor, where she turned and
peered out of the store, catching his eye as he stood
watching.  She struck some sexy poses for him, doing her
best to ignore the whispers that erupted around her.  And,
after a few moments, she walked back into the dressing room
to change outfits.
     
     She could hear the commotion she had caused – voices
humming beyond the changing room door, speaking in low tones
of the disgusting display, the vile temptress whore that had
just displayed herself to them all.  Some of the voices
sounded appreciative, and she knew she had captured the
fancy of a few men in her audience.
     
     And now she wore a cute pink baby-doll, fluffy edging,
utterly see through, with a matching g-string.  Taking
another deep breath to steady herself, she stepped out into
the store again, letting the eyes fall upon her.  They had
waited for her, her audience, waited for her return, and now
all eyes seemed upon her.  She was terrified.
     
     She never got more then a few steps out when an older
woman grabbed her arm and hauled her back into the changing
room.  She began to yell at Bree, “What do you think this is
– some sort of peep show?  This is a store, not a strip club
for you to tramp about, making a scene!”  The woman was
furious, berating her for being a dirty slut of a girl.
“What’s a girl your age doing in cloths like this anyway?
Get out of this store before I call security!”
     
     Bree never said a word.  Before the woman’s harsh
glare, she stripped off her cloths, only to receive a cold
look as this lady analyzed her skin-and-bones frame, and
changed back in to her own cloths.  And once she was dressed
– and her outfit seemed to bring another disapproving look
into the sales clerk’s eyes – the woman grabbed her by the
arm and dragged her out of the store.  “And I don’t want to
see you in here again!”
     
     Bree, trembling from the humiliation and fear, stumbled
amongst the throng of people until he was once more behind
her and steering her, leading into the large department
store.  He led her to the woman’s area of the hip and trendy
place, and with a shove sent her on her way to roam through
the assortments of outfits that she would never wear.  In
the lingerie shop, she had recognized cloths, but here, it
was all foreign.  She rarely wore anything like these, so
concealing, and she had never picked anything out for
herself before.  Any thing she did wear was always left in
her room, much like this morning.
     
     She was able to calm herself, though, as she roamed
aimlessly through the racks and tables.  Other then the over-
eager sales reps in the store, who she dismissed with a
shake of her head when asked if she needed assistance, it
was easy enough to slip around and through the cover of
clothing racks, hiding from the prying eyes of her fellow
shoppers.
     
     And while she dodged such an individual, a pretty young
woman picking out nice slacks and jackets whose eyes seemed
to constantly shoot up from her searching to glare at Bree
for a few seconds every so often, Bree felt hands on her
hips, holding her in place.  She didn’t struggle, knowing
who it was, though she flushed red-hot when the hands yanked
pants and panties down her thighs.
     
     He was hidden behind a cloths rack, well concealed from
the rest of the store, but she, however, was easy to see,
and as her rear was pulled back into the blouses and her
torso bent over ever so slightly, she seemed far out of
place in posture.  There was nothing there before her that
any shopper could be shifting through – she just looked
silly, or worse, up to no good.
     
     Bree was actually surprised when she felt the hot, hard
head of his cock pressing up against her asshole.  She
squirmed a bit, thinking maybe he was mis-positioned, but
his cock returned to its original target and pressed
inwards.  No lube at all, not even a splattering of spit to
ease the entrance, he just held her hips, and pulled back
with his arms while pressing forward with his legs and
weight.
     
     Bree grit her teeth against the searing pain as his
thick cock pried her tight hole apart.  She reached out and
grabbed a cloths rack standing off to one side and pushed
back against him with all her might, knowing the sooner her
got inside, the better.  She pushed out, too, flaring her
anus as best she could.  She had taken him dry before, and
though never a pleasant experience she could bare it.
     
     She was biting the inside of her lip to keep from
crying out against the hot anguish in her ass as the thick
invader punched through her sphincter.  Tears pooled in her
eyes as his dick slithered inwards and up, but she never
made a sound, knowing that not only would it irritate him,
making him fuck her all the more harshly, but it could draw
more attention to her, and that was the last thing she
wanted.  She would rather take 100 cocks up her unlubed ass,
each one bigger then the last, then to be noticed by those
around her.
     
     She had expected a hard, heavy fucking of her sore
rear, something to leave her pained and damaged for the next
few days, but after a few strokes, he stopped his pumping
and merely help himself buried deep inside of her.  And then
there was a sudden rush of heat inside, a spray deep in her
bowels, and she realized what he was doing.  He was using
her as his personal urinal – she was pissing up her ass.
     
     He held her still as he unleashed his stream inside of
her.  She stood in silent terror that she would be caught,
squatting in the store, ass buried in the rack of cloths.
If someone came up and questioned her, he would pull out of
her, she knew, and her enema would could rushing out in
flush of piss and shit into the clothing – and it would look
like that was what she was doing all along, squatting
against the blouses to relieve herself.  She was nauseous
with fright at the thought as it played over and over again
in her mind.
     
     But it was not so – no one saw her, and no one bothered
them before he was done.  When he was finished, he began to
withdraw, and though now slick with wetness inside of her,
with exist was even more uncomfortable then his entrance:
Bree needed to squeeze her ass as tight against his cock as
she could so that her bum would seal in his golden gift to
her and keep it from spilling on the cloths and carpet.
     
     He was out, and her anus sealed up tight.  A couple
drops rolled free, she could feel them on her skin, but he
pulled up her pants before they slid down her leg and they
were absorbed into her panties.  She felt fool and bloated,
and as she ran her hand down across her belly she was sure
she felt the liquid splashing about in side.  She looked
down at her hips and was sure her pelvis was noticeably fat
and fuller.
     
     His hand pushed her down to her knees, and Bree let her
body follow his heeding, concentrating all her efforts on
holding the seal of her sphincter.  His hand took the back
of her head and pulled her face into the blouses.  His cock
was in her mouth, and she tasted the salty bitterness of his
urine mixed with the earthy tang of her own ass.  He was
pumping his cock between her lips, and she, lapping and
sucking at his rod, hoping to unleash another reward, bobbed
her face in and out, the silken shirts grazing her cheeks as
she fucked his concealed cock with her lips.
     
     “What are you doing?” a woman’s voice demanded from
behind her.  The cock was gone from her lips the moment
there was a sound.  Bree whirled her head around to see one
of the sales reps standing above her, hands on her waist.
     
     Bree couldn’t speak at all, could barely breathe as
this woman towered above her.  She gasped, then coughed,
just trying to take a breath, and the load of piss in her
rear threatened the escape in a great tide of foulness, but
she managed to clench tightly and hold on a little longer.
     
     “I was . . . was just,” Bree’s voice was soft and the
sales woman leaned in to hear her words.  “I . . . had
dropped something,” Bree lied, her face flushing.  She knew
the woman didn’t believe her – Bree was too shocked and
embarrassed at being caught to have been doing nothing
inappropriate, but as there was something else for the woman
to do.
     
     “Well get it and get up.  I’m keeping my eye on you – I
don’t want any trouble.”
     
     Bree smiled weakly and nodded.  Appeased, at least a
bit, the woman grunted and shambled off.
     
     She had only gotten about ten feet away when he struck,
punching Bree in the lower stomach.  It wasn’t that hard a
hit – she had received much worse during sex – but the shock
of it doubled her over.  Worse still, with the added
pressure of the impact and the surprise of the hit, she lost
a hold of bowels.
     
     The hot stream flooded, unchecked, into her panties.
In a second, they were soaked through and the flush of piss
washed into her pants.  Her cloths were too shear and flimsy
to really contain it, and a sputtering stream of yellow-
brown liquid sprayed into the air.  It only lasted a few
moments, then the stream died down as her hole was plugged
momentarily by the more solid shit in her bowels, but the
soggy mess could not damn up the pressure inside, and soon,
that too rushed into her skimpy underwear.
     
     Bree was mortified, and despite her efforts, she could
not regain enough control over her anus to stop the flow of
her enema.  She look around, eyes wide in horror, but the
sales rep hadn’t noticed and was still walking away as she
shit herself.  The mess in her panties continued to build,
and obeying the commands whispered to her from where ever
her was watching her blight, she reached down between her
legs, cupped the mass in her hands and slid it forward in
her panties, making room for the rest.  She continued to
transfer the thick, gooey mess, spreading across her skin,
shifting it about to the unoccupied places in her underwear
until her entire waist was covered, and as her ass continued
to spew forth this disgusting mess, she was left with no
choice but to spread it out of her panties, forcing it past
the bands up to her belly and down her thighs.  Her pants
were soaked completely through and clung to her legs, making
them completely transparent, though adding a tinge of yellow-
brown color to her skin tone.  The carpet was soaked and a
puddle formed about her feet.
     
     She was crying, humiliated beyond imagination by this
torment.  And as his behest, she rubbed her hands across her
chest, wetting down the blouse at her tits, making it cling
to her skin like her pants, and her tits showed through
though they were naked.  Her body trembled with fear, and
her eyes looked about, seeking out any on-lookers.  To her
amazement, no one seemed to have noticed.
     
     The hand returned and once more she was pushed down
onto her knees.  He pulled on her hair to tilt her head
back, and then the hot thick cum rained down on her face.
Long streaks of it shot across her cheeks, into her eyes and
hair, and down her next onto her shirt.  He was cumming on
her to release his pent up desire – she knew that.  He would
be fucking her for hours tonight to quite the burning lust
that boiled in him from witnessing her debasement.  This was
just to add to her utter mortification – not only was she a
immature panty-shitting pig, but with a face covered in cum,
there was no doubt how whorish and trashy she truly was.
There was no question to her character now, all layers were
peeled away and she was exposed as the worthless cum-rag she
was.
     
     As she rose to her feet, only able to see from one eye
from the spunk that covered her skin and dripped from her
face to her blouse, she saw once more that she was alone,
and her debasement unwitnessed.  But even as the thought,
and the wonderful feeling of relief it brought, entered her
mind, she felt him place a pair of jean in her hand.
     
     She nearly broke down and cried, nearly fell back to
her knees, nearly screamed out in horror at the idea.  But
she didn’t – she just turned, scanned the room for the
nearest cashier, and started off in that direction.
     
     It was the same sales rep as before, the one who had
caught her on her knees, face in the clothing rack.  If she
had had any ideas about what Bree had been up to, she would
know for sure now.  At first, the woman did not even look
up, as though she knew who was approaching and did not want
to favor her with eye contact.  Bree had hoped she would see
her from afar and kick her out of the store without every
really seeing Bree up close, her humiliation revealed in all
its hideous glory.  But that was not to be.  She would have
ignored Bree for much longer, except the stench of shit and
piss hit her full force after a few moments, and she
stumbled back, eyes wipe with disgust.
     
     “I would like to – “
     
     “You filthy, disgusting beast!” the woman shrieked as
her eyes first saw the cum-glazing on Bree’s face, then her
dark, hard nipples poking through the clinging, near
transparent fabric of her shirt.  She couldn’t see below
Bree’s stomach, but her eyes focused on the tips of the
brown streaks that rose up the girl’s torso, streaks of shit
smeared across otherwise pale white skin.
     
     The woman gagged, then retched, barely keeping from
spewing up her lunch at the sight and smell of the dirty
whore-pig before her.  “Out!” she shouted.  “Out!  I should
call security!  The police!”
     
     A few other customers where gathering around now, and
Bree could hear them talking – not even trying to keep their
voices down.  “What’s that smell?”  “Ew, gross – is that?”
“Look mommy!  That girl had an accident!”  “Check out those
tits!”  “What is that on her face?”  “You can see through
her pants!”  “Gross!”
     
     Bree wanted to bolt, but she couldn’t.  Not until she
bought the jeans.  He had handed her a handful of crumpled,
single bills, and Bree made a point of slowly pulled each
dollar free, straightening it out, and then setting it on
the counter.  Sixty dollars, sixty singles from the wad, and
each one she handled with care, as if fragile.  All the
while, tears streamed down her face, and she sniffed back
her sobs as the people gathered around her to point, laugh,
stare, and shout at her.  Security was there, at the
counter, by the time she was done, and at first, noticing
the cum on her face, the large man smiled, as if thinking he
could get something from a slut like her for not turning her
over to the police, but then, it seemed, he caught scent of
her.  His expression soured, and he grabbed her by the arm
and began to haul her away.
     
     She was afraid he would take her and keep her in the
hold.  Maybe the police would come and lock her up.  She
didn’t know, but if he took her away from all these people,
anything would be better.  But he dragged her outside and
shoved her out into the parking lot.  She still had the
jeans in her hands – she couldn’t have left them, after all,
since the shit on her fingers had stained them the moment
she touched them.  At least they were paid for.
     
     She walked around the outside of the wall, forlornly
stumbling along past the shoppers coming and going to cars.
When she got to where he had parked, the van was gone.  He
had moved it, she knew instantly, so that she would have to
walk around the packed lot, looking for it.  She was so
broken and disgusted with herself, she didn’t even care
anymore.  She walked by people, her face low but not hidden
from view.  Most just gawked at her or rushed away, but
plenty of them shouted lewd remarks at her, calling her many
foul names.  And she deserved every single one.
     
     She found the van at last, but when she tried to enter,
he would not let her.  Not dirty as she was.  He had a box
of small, 6 oz water bottles in the back, and Bree snapped
from her numbness when she realized what he expected her to
do.  But she did it – she stripped off her piss-drenched,
shit-stained pants and shirt, and she dropped her mush-laden
panties to the pavement and stepped out.  Naked for all the
shoppers and drivers to see, she poured one small bottle of
water on her face to wipe away the dried, flaking residue of
cum.  And then another bottle and another.
     
     There was so little water that it was difficult to
actually clean herself.  She guessed it took at least half a
hour, maybe much longer.  The horrified shouts and lewd
names slowly changed back to cat-calls and lusty remarks as
the filth washed away, leaving only the appearance of the
naked, horny slut girl, bathing herself in a mall parking
lot with bottles of water.
     
     Wiping the last of the mess away on the now ruined pair
of jean, Bree, clean at last, climbed into the van and sat
naked in the front seat, in plain sight of all those around
her, for them to gawk, and leer, and degrade her with their
slanderous words.  Her only comfort from this horrid,
terrible day was the hope that, at last, when she got home,
she would receive her wondrous rewards.