Billie the pig

[Freelancer]

As the intro to "Bury a Friend" started, a strange look flickered across Billie's face. It was barely noticeable at first, just a slight wrinkle of her nose, a tiny hitch in her voice. Her backup dancers and stage crew exchanged glances, wondering if they had imagined it, but as the song progressed, it became clear that something was off. The smell was faint initially, like trash left out in the sun too long, but it was growing stronger, more pungent, wafting through the air and invading Billie's space.

The stench began to distract her crew, causing them to fumble their cues and miss their marks. Billie's focus split between her performance and the increasingly chaotic scene around her, though overall, she seemingly took it better than most others... At first she'd planned to ignore the issue entirely, gladly letting the perfomance take a hit if it meant that she could keep the mysterious odor coming, but it was when she noticed that even her fans had started taking note of it too that she had to become a little more proactive in regards to adressing the problem, unless she wanted things to spiral out of control.

Pausing mid-song, her voice trailed off as she stepped back from the microphone. The crowd fell silent, waiting for her to speak, but before she could say anything, she noticed something in the far back of the concert space. Security guards were escorting a larger figure out of the venue. Not someone large in height, but in width. Billie's heart sank as she'd probably realized that he was likely the source of the awful smell.

"Hey, guys," Billie said, her voice echoing through the field. "I think we've got something going on. I'm not the only one who noticed that smell, right?" She said, playing up her perky young adult persona to defuse the scene and mask her disappointment with a playful demeanor. The crowd murmured in agreement, some fans wrinkling their noses in disgust. "Yeah, it was pretty nasty," she continued, teetering on the edge of overdoing it with her accentuation, her eyes still on the man being led away. "But it looks like our security team is handling it, so let's just... let's just keep the show going, okay?"

The crowd cheered in response, ready to move past the unpleasant interruption. Billie, however, felt a secret pang of disappointment. She was drawn to the unusual, the grotesque, a side of her she kept hidden from the public eye. The man being escorted out had piqued her dark curiosity, but she knew she couldn't intervene without revealing her disgusting secrets...

As Billie powered through the rest of the concert, she couldn't quite shake the strange pull that gnawed at the back of her mind. The crowd had bounced back, their energy filling the space as if nothing unusual had happened, but Billie's focus kept flickering to what had just gone down. Something deep and twisted tugging at her curiosity, yet she had to keep it hidden behind the mask of her pop star persona. No one could know how intrigued she'd been by the whole thing. As the final notes of her last song echoed through the venue, she took a deep breath and stepped back from the mic, letting the roaring cheers wash over her. The usual wave of adrenaline surged through her, but tonight, it was laced with something different—a lingering tension that refused to dissolve.

"Thank you, guys! You were incredible tonight. Seriously, this was one of the craziest shows yet, huh?" The crowd screamed in agreement, the hiccup earlier long forgotten by most. She waved, flashing a grin that never quite reached her eyes. She blew a kiss, taking her final bow, her heart thudding a little heavier than usual.

As she walked offstage, a part of her couldn't help but wonder who the man was, why he smelled so bad, and what it would've been like to just let that grotesque curiosity take over for once. Everyone backstage wanted to have some time with her, but she just dismissed everything for now. She moved back into the cabin after the show was over and quickly undressed because of the intense arousal she felt. One hand worked on unzipping her boots, kicking them off. After she undressed from her pants and her undwear, the woman walked slowly through the mud, dragging her bare feet to make sure they were as messy as possible. She went immediately into the nearest porta-potty after making sure that nobody could see her. Then, she quickly reached down to find some wet toilet paper that had been recently used as she could barely contain or control her arousal.

One hand pressed the stinking, wet toilet paper against her mouth and nose so she could inhale the scent deeply. She slid a hand between her legs, pressing her fingers inside of her pussy to begin masturbating. The porta potty grimy and sticky and it made her even more aroused. The gown only slightly covered her waist at this point as she leaned back. The floor was so sticky and she loved the feeling. This really made her feel like a cow in her pen, rumbling around the tight confines of her stinky cell with her fat udders swinging freely. All she could do was think about the man's strong stench as she touched herself, and in her arousal, she forgo to lock the door.

Billie turned into a complete sow, losing herself in the moment as she kept inhaling that awful scent of some stranger's piss right into her brain. It wasn't the first time that she was doing this, honoring a fan's loyalty by putting their stale old urine right up to her face, but something was about to be drastically different about her muck-driven excursion tonight...

Hank Doher was one of the man driving trucks for the company which rented out all of these temporary waste facilities to events around the area, and thus the person who was responsible for putting up all of the porta potties and picking them back up again. The 60 year old man had done this job for almost three decades now, but suffice it to say that this was the first time the older man was confronted with... something like this.

It all started with him hearing odd sounds coming from the stall in the far back from where he stood... as soon as he arrived there, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Peeking through a gap in the unlocked, dark green plastic door, some thick assed, platinum blonde-haired bitch was throwing herself around inside the box, a damp ball of intensely reeking nastiness pressed to her face, her lower half completely exposed and with a hand between her legs, working herself so much so that arousingly nasty and soppy shlicking sounds eminated from the fingers that stimulated the woman's wet pussy with an intense need for the most degenerate pleasure.

Torn between thr decision of remaining quiet so he could keep enjoying the show or barging in to confront the woman he didn't recognize as the world renowned superstar, Billie Eilish, he just couldn't hold himself back from wanting to surprise that rank ass bitch by showing her that she forgot to lock her bin!

Letting her heart sink down her non-existant pants, the old man swung the door wide open, putting the fake, bleached blonde's secret after-show party on full display in front of him, "Well, well, well! What do we have here, huh?"

The door opening was the last thing that Billie expected to happen. It was not her first time doing this. She was always super careful about keeping the door locked, but not this time, apparently. When the door opened, her eyes went wide. The woman grew silent and shocked. She did not even know how to respond as the toilet paper was still pressed against her mouth and her nose. She had been caught in the act. This was the biggest fear that she had - her secret getting out, someone discovering her fantasies. The pop star gulped, lowering the toilet paper once she realized what was happening now. A deep blush of embarrassment showed across her face. She had never thought about this before. What should she do? What should she say? The man certainly had to know who she was, right? How much money would he want to be kept quiet? Would he want something more?

This could ruin her career if it got out. And her career was her life, so it would essentially ruin everything. She could not imagine what the headlines would say. It would be impossible for her to go out in public. "H-... hello..." She whispered softly, whimpering after she spoke because she was just too shell shocked that she did not know what to say. Honestly, she could only sit there in horror, her body from the waist down on full display for him at this point.

Caught like a deer in the headlights - that's how the young woman looked like, frozen in place between 3 sticky walls and the old trucker man. "Hello indeed... " The stranger replied with his southern accent, allowing to check her out with no sense of shame, his eyes trailing down her exposed body and then back up to her face. She was pretty... prettier than any woman he'd been with in his entire life for sure.

"I guess there's no need to explain yourself, darlin'." Hank stopped her from even trying to think of an excuse for her pitiful state. "Looks like a textbook example of a nasty little pervert to me, eh?" And he had guessed right - though it probably wasn't hard to figure with all of the information he was working with. "A toilet fetish having, rancid, stinkpig bitch... don't really see that too often, now do ya'?" He asked, his question rhetorical, yet his words still putting butterflies in her stomach. While it was certainly concerning to be found by someone who could have been a fan, him calling her a rancid, stinkpig bitch was exactly what she needed to hear in a situation like this - her thicc cow body exposed to an unflattering looking stranger - a soggy clump of urin riddled paper in one hand and the other fingers deep inside of her own pussy.

He'd yet to mention her name, but going off the fact that none of his initial thoughts were even slightly concerned with her popstar identity, there was a real chance that this old guy had no clue who he was dealing with right now. What if this wasn't meant to be her downfall, but a chance? A chance to finally give in to her secret desires - with a man who had no reason to leak the information, no reason to destroy her reputation, since he didn't know her in the first place! Sure, this man wasn't who she trulyq wanted, but he was the lucky bastard to be here now instead... and she was still sooo fucking horny thanks to the odorous incident earlier today~

Whether he knew her or not, it was too late to make him unsee what he'd seen anyway, so she at least deserved to have some fun with it. Too desperate to think, she just had to invite that old fuck right into her private Eden of filth - the sticky and awful reeking toilet box this fat uddered cow lovingly thought of as "home..."

Billie realized that her pussy had grown wetter after hearing the old trucker man call her a rancid, stinkpig bitch. The wave of arousal was unlike anything she ever felt before because these desires were something she only enjoyed alone. Never did she think it would be enjoyed with another. Deciding that she was free to embrace the moment, she took a deep breath. "Why don't you come join these randcid, stinkpig bitch in her pen? Maybe you can show me just how filthy it can get in here for this fat uddered cow..." There was an invitation. She wanted him to accept the invitation. At that point, she raised the horridly scented piece of toilet paper back against her nose and mouth, her tongue gently licking the paper as she inhaled another deep breath.

She rubbed her bare feet back and forth against the filthy floor of the porta potty and her fingers traveled deeper inside of her pussy. Her hips raised from the toilet as she let out a grumble from her throat. It felt wonderful to give herself permission to moan. Usually, she forced herself to stay quiet because she did not want anyone to know. Now, she did not mind if this man heard because of what he had already seen. Now, it was his turn to respond. Maybe he would jump into the pent with the cow herself and show her how to have a good time.

Hank raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his weathered face as he listened to the young woman's invitation. He had seen some shit in his time, but this was a whole new level of kink. He wasn't about to pass up an opportunity like this. He stepped into the porta potty, the plastic walls creaking slightly as his bulky frame filled the small space. The stench was overpowering, but he had dealt with worse in his line of work.

"Well, aren't you a sight," he said, his voice low and gravelly. He looked down at her, taking in the sight of her naked lower half, her fingers working in and out of her pussy, the wet, stained toilet paper pressed against her face. He could see the embarrassment in her eyes, but there was something else too - a hunger, a need that he was all too willing to satisfy.

He undid his belt, the metal buckle clanging loudly in the confined space. He pushed down his jeans and boxers, his cock already semi-hard from the sight before him. He stroked it slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. "You want to be a filthy little pig, huh?" he said, his voice laced with a dominance that made her shiver. "Let's see just how filthy you can get."

Hank could barely believe his luck. He had always been a misogynist at heart, enjoying the power that came with degrading women, and now he had a young, willing slut right in front of him, begging to be treated like the dirty bitch she was. The porta potty was the perfect setting for this - a disgusting, enclosed space where he could unleash his darkest desires.

He reached down, grabbing a handful of used toilet paper from the floor. He brought it to her face, replacing the one she had been using. She inhaled deeply, her eyes rolling back slightly as she took in the pungent scent. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Lick it," he commanded, his voice expecting and unyielding. He felt a thrill of satisfaction as she hesitated, seeing the internal struggle in her eyes, disgusted by what was in front of her, yet seemingly giddy to indulge in such filthy actions. But he knew she would comply - she was a bitch in heat, after all, and he was more than ready to give her what she deserved. "And then chew on it like the pig bitch you are..." He ordered as he pushed himself against her lower half, his hairy cock nestling between her fingers which she had stuck up her wet puss. "Oooh! Nngh, bitch~..." The man groaned and pressed the clump of toilet paper against her lips.

Hank chuckled, a deep and menacing sound that filled the cramped space. "That's a good little pig," he said, watching as she licked and then began to chew the soiled toilet paper. He could see the mix of disgust and excitement on her face, and it turned him on even more. "I bet you've never tasted anything as good as that piss-soaked paper, have you, you filthy bitch?"

He reached down, grabbing her wrist and pulling her fingers out of her pussy. He brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply. "Mhhh, god, what a needy smell!" the fat man taunted her for having a bitch-like scent, one so ripe and musky that he could tell just how desperate she was for something like this to happen. He sucked her fingers into his mouth, tasting her juices, his eyes exploring her obscene body, before darting back to meet her entranced gaze. It seemed like she got off on watching her in pussy juice glazed fingers disappear inside the lowly man's mouth, feeling his sloppy tongue dance around her digits while she was chewing on her piss stained snack, and he certainly took note of that.

Hank sucked her fingers clean with a loud, lewd pop, finally releasing them from his mouth. He looked her up and down, taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her heaving chest, and her wide, doe-eyed gaze. A cruel smirk spread across his face as he leaned in, his voice a low, gravelly whisper.

"Fuck, you should see yourself right now," he said, his breath hot on her face, a hint of alcohol lingering within. "You look like a doe-eyed bitch in love, all starry-eyed and longing. Like you've been waiting your whole life for an old man like me to come along and use you like the filthy pig you are." He chuckled, a deplorable sound that sent shivers down her spine. "It's fucking pathetic. But goddamn, it's hot as hell."

And indeed, in her haze of lust and degradation, Billie was tightly focused on the man, but the truth was that she was imagining him to be her beloved king of stink from the concert earlier that day. She imagined that it was him standing before her, his massive, sweaty body filling the small space, his stinky cock ready to claim her. The thought sent absurdly intense waves of arousal coursing through her nethers, her pussy growing even wetter.

Hank, unaware of her thoughts, released her wrist and grabbed her tits, squeezing them hard through her top. She moaned, her back arching, pushing her chest further into his hands. "Look at these fat tits!" He boasted triumphantly, admiring his haul, his voice vulgar and degrading. "They're fucking huge. I bet your udders are full of milk, aren't they, you dirty cow?"

The old man expected an answer, but the female sow was too busy gagging and moaning to think. As punishment he pushed aside her leather covers, so he could get a handful of her bare tits before he started pinching her nipples, twisting them until she cried out in pain and pleasure. "C'mon, say something, bitch!" Hank demanded. "You're only good for making babies and milk? Tell me what your womb and tits are made for, now!" One of his hands travelled back up to her face and slipped a thumb between her lips. "And how's your mystery piss snack, bitch? Tastes good, huh?"

Billie's mind was a fog of lust and humiliation, her body aching with a desperate need that only seemed to grow with each degrading word from Hank's mouth. She was no longer the pop star, the icon, the confident woman she portrayed on stage. She was a submissive bitch, a sow in heat, willing to do anything to please her master.

She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with tears - tears of joy, because she was finally getting what she truly desired. She was happy to finally be able to ruin her life with a lowlife like him, a man who would turn her into the porta potty pig she always wanted to be. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and arousal, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She nodded eagerly, her voice a breathless whisper. "Y-yesh, shir," she slurred, Hank's thumb worming its way into her mouth, playing with her tongue as she spoke. "M-my tits... they're fulla milk, jus' for you, shir. Made jus' for you, like m-my womb... it'sh made for... for bein' bred by you, too." She shivered, her voice trembling with excitement and a twisted form of love for the degradation she was about to receive. "I'm y-your filshy bitsh. Born to... to please your dick. *unhh~*"

Billie shuddered with anticipation, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She was on the precipice of something she had always desired, always craved, and Hank could see that in her longing, thankful and very much so desperate gaze. The thought of what was to come sent waves of exhilaration and an electrifying worry for her own hygiene coursing through her naughty body, a potent mix that left her trembling and eager to obey his every command. This was her moment, her chance to embrace her true self, and she was ready to dive in headfirst, no matter how filthy, how degrading, how utterly perfect it was.

Hank grinned, a cruel and satisfied smile. He grabbed her chin, his fingers rough and calloused. "Good girl," he said, his voice a low growl. "Now, let's see how much of a pig you really are. Let's see how much of daddy you can take."

He turned her around, pushing her against the grimy wall of the porta potty. She could feel the sticky, disgusting residue on her skin, but it only served to heighten her arousal. She was a filthy bitch, after all, and this was her pen. This was where she belonged, where she felt truly alive.

"Lick it," Hank commanded, his voice firm and unyielding. "Lick the walls, bitch. Show me how much you love the filth."

Billie hesitated for a moment, a wave of nausea washing over her. But her desire to please him, to obey him, was stronger than her disgust. She stuck out her tongue, tentatively licking the grimy wall. The taste was revolting. It was a mix of old plastic, all sorts of grime and stale, condensated urine that stuck to the walls over the course of these hot summer concert days, and god knows what else. But she continued, her tongue working its way up and down the wall, her body shuddering with a mix of revulsion and arousal. This was what she wanted, what she craved. She was finally embracing her true self, her true desires, and she was loving every second of it, no matter what sorts of ungodly diseases she was lapping up right then and there.

Hank watched her, his eyes filled with a sick satisfaction. He laughed, a harsh and mocking sound. "Look at you, you filthy slut. Licking the piss off the walls like a true sow. You love it, don't you? You love the taste of the filth, the smell of the shit. You're a true pig, aren't you, bitch?"

Billie moaned, her body trembling with need. "Yes, sir," she whispered. "I'm a filthy pig. I love the taste of the filth. I love the smell of the shit. I'm your sow, sir. I'm here to please you..." She was finally admitting her true self, her true desires, and it felt liberating. She was happy, truly happy, sexually fulfilled for the first time in a long time.

Hank chuckled, a deep and menacing sound. He stepped back, his eyes trailing down her body, lingering on her thick ass. "Oh, you'll please me, alright. But not yet. I'm not ready to fuck you yet, bitch. I'm going to take my sweet ass time with this!" The trucker cheered and slapped the popstar's ample ass, her fat cheeks wobbling like jelly while she let out a surprised moan.

He then grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back and planting her down on the dirty toilet seat. She gasped, the cold, grimy seat sending a shock through her system. He pushed her legs up, exposing her ass to him. She could feel his warm breath against her hole, a contrast to the sticky plastic beneath. This was what she wanted, what she needed. She was finally going to get what she deserved.

Pointing up the fat bastard gave her an order. "Lick your feet, bitch," he commanded. "Lick them clean while I eat out your fat ass."

Billie looked at her feet, covered in the muck from the porta potty floor. She hesitated for a moment, but the sight of Hank's face disappearing between her legs, his tongue circling her hole, was enough to spur her on. She leaned forward, her tongue tentatively licking at her dirty feet. The taste was revolting, but she continued, her body shaking with humiliation and arousal. This was her heaven, her paradise. She was finally home, finally where she belonged.

Hank's tongue worked its way around her hole, his hands gripping her ass cheeks, spreading them wide. He groaned, his voice vibrating against her sensitive skin. "Fuck, you taste good, bitch. Your ass is fucking delicious."

Billie moaned, her body trembling with need. She was a filthy bitch, a sow in heat, and she was loving every second of it. She was desperate to please him, desperate to obey him, desperate to feel him inside of her. But for now, she would settle for the feel of his tongue on her ass, the taste of the filth on her feet, and the knowledge that she was his to command, his to control, his to degrade. And she wouldn't have it any other way. She was finally happy, finally free, finally the filthy pig she always wanted to be.