Crowds of girls walk around in a circle-shaped room. They cannot leave, and are subject to a horror from time to time…
There’s enough room to move around though, talk to others. They can change clothes and even bathe in a little area off the side. Or shower, anyway, because they really need to get clean to even be sociable after the deed is done to them.
They say the shower is the safest place, so some girls try to stay there as much as possible. Where you don’t want to be is in the Line, or grabbed by the mechanical hand which drags girls up at random every couple of hours. First girl it touches, she’s gone.
By “gone,” I don’t mean dead, though many of these girls probably wish they were.
Outside of this building, there are Snatchers whose job it is to herd in college girls to serve as the Jumborcs toilets.
A Jumborc is a women who has utilized pills to make her twenty-feet tall. They are ex-models and can make themselves bigger if necessary.
Ex-models because they had all agreed to not come into work anymore till they got higher pay. Hilary Morton, the creator of the Jumborc Society, had used her pull with a government official to grant them the building for this purpose.
There was one rule they had to follow: at least three of their captives must be allowed to leave each month. This meant that a girl captured there would remain until the release took place.
Why would girls not want to be here? They don’t have to take classes. There’s a pile of clothes to choose from to wear. Food is provided, lowered by a dumbwaiter. They also get what they request to eat…
But they are unhappy. Why is this?
Well, some of them do dislike each other. There are cliques and all that jazz. But also they’re trapped under the same roof. They cannot escape from one another, and that causes tension.
Friends are not even with friends 100 percent of the time.
And everybody wishes they could either be a personal servant of the princess, force her to eat their poop, or be the princess themselves and be fawned over, or hated, as the case may be.
The princess is the center of all attention. It gives them something to focus on, to gab about. Who will the princess choose to poop on today? Will it be me? Am I worthy?
Or other thoughts, if the princess tries to make me her toilet, I will bite her butt.
No girl has done that though, because even those who dislike her or are consumed by jealousy are awed by the fact that the entire room is focused on them if they let the princess do her thing.
Well a few have been restrained. But after being pooped on by the princess, they wanted it more. So badly. It was an obsession.
But all of that would be happiness. Even the hating and stuff, that they were used to from high school, though in this case they couldn’t even go home.
The Line is the one place you don’t want to be. It is why girls loathe this place. They dread being put in the line.
Like the mechanical hand, a robot exists to put girls in the Line. The difference is, the mechanical hand picks at random and is hooked up to an area on the ceiling. If it targets a girl, it will chase her all around the room until it catches her. Even if several other girls surround her for protection, the hand will pick them up, place them far from her, and return to its task.
The robot doesn’t pick at random. It grabs the nearest girl to it whenever it moves, which is every twenty minutes. Which means girls do their best to avoid that area of the room.
One girl, Mina, so afraid of what was about to happen as the robot nearly caught her, pushed her best friend Isabelle into the robot’s arm instead.
She felt guilty afterward, and wanted to offer herself to the robot next. The princess’ girls wanted to take her to be pooped on by the princess though. It was such a dilemma. She needed to apologize but to give herself up would mean being pooped on by Jumborcs instead of the princess.
In the end she decided she could apologize later. So Mina let the princess poop on her, but her heart wasn’t in it…
When Isabelle came down the chute on the side opposite the line two days later, Mina begged for her forgiveness. Isabelle had a manic gleam in her eye, started to lead Isabelle toward the robot to wait until it activated.
“You need to shower before going that way,” said a room monitor, who had been a janitor in college. She dragged Isabelle toward the bathing area.
When Isabelle got out, and put on a clean dress, she started to drag Mina off again, ignoring Mina’s pleading eyes.
Then her eyes bulged, she shoved Mina to the ground, tickled her chin, and pooped in her mouth.
“You will be my personal toilet,” Isabelle said. “Whether you like it or not.”
Mina was so relieved. But not all friendships twisted like this ended happily. Mina could enjoy being Isabelle’s toilet, but some other girls became enemies after a similar occurrence.
Of the Line itself, once a robot shoves you in, you are trapped. And one day the robot grabbed Princess Rhiannon and shoved her in.
This wasn’t the first time the princess had been captured. In fact, the one time the Jumborcs had listened to a protest sent up with their food choices, occurred after the princess was caught.
Back when the Jumborc Agency had first opened, eight months before this day, and when they had staff work overtime and the agency allowed working models so they could make all the captives feel like captives as much as possible….and loathe it…back then the mechanical hand was the only one to lift girls up to the chute above. Girls were constantly being sent up there so much, the Jumborcs always had need of them, since models who hadn’t quit were there as well, for recreation and to give the place some buzz, most of the girls were needed at all times….
Back then they also had fewer girls, twenty-five to begin with. Which meant you might be the only one left below, with little social interaction, only enough time to take a shower before you’re forced into it again.
One day as four girls rode down the chute and took a shower, they discussed the problem. And decided that they would come up with a reason why this didn’t work for them, and send it to up to the big dogs.
They decided that as Hilary Morton had designed this building, she obviously wanting these girls to suffer. Well and good. Suffering was fine if you had sisterhood. They were all in this together, and some even enjoyed having certain models use them as toilets.
But if they said they had a Hilary Morton-like gal they all worshipped, it would play to her vanity. So these four girls who thought up the plan suggested it to others, and it got passed on. Soon more than half the girls agreed, so in their complaints that night, they posted an uneasiness with their princess being treated that way.
Comparing her to Hilary worked, for with the food came a message: “Take a picture of this girl you call your ‘princess.’ Make sure she is showered off, has dressed up, and looks great for photography. Do this and we may listen to some of your concerns.”
A camera with their food.
Now before we get into the specifics, you ought to know something about HIlary Morton. Why would you read a list of complaints if you’re never going to do anything about it? After all, some of the complaints were things like being up in the poop chute too much, being hogged by certain models whose poop smelled much worse than other models., etc.
The thing was, Hilary Morton enjoyed these complaints. They were the reason this building existed. So some collegiate girls could know life as the toilets to models, whether it was pleasing or unpleasing.
Furthermore, these letters might have mendable complaints that had nothing to do with being pooped on. Maybe some girls wanted new clothes, or certain kinds of soaps for body wash. So it was whatever with these.
So Hilary’s vanity was aroused, as planned. She directed them to have their princess shower up, put on the best clothes, and for the girls to take her picture so the proof could be seen. Hilary Morton wanted to believe that this “princess” was their version of her, since she started this agency up.
The girl who thought it up, Robin, wanted to be the princess, but several girls shot her down.
“It has to be someone we’ll want to be pooped on by,” one girl said, sticking out her tongue.
“I’ll poop on you if you do that again,” Robin said.
“Why does she have to poop on us?” one girl asked. “The princess, I mean.”
“Because she’s royalty to us,” said another. “And thus I think I would be the best one for…”
“Why don’t we have a race to determine who should be the princess?” Tracey, a girl dressed in pink shorts and a pink shirt said. “We can go from the showers to the wall beneath the mechanical hand. First there gets the title.”
She was known for being incredibly fast.
“No thank you,” said a redhead. “You’d obvliously win that. I say we nominate.”
“Come on, we don’t need a princess this very minute,” said one girl. At that moment, the mechanical hand swooped down and grabbed her.
“Okay that settles it,” Robin said, as the girl being pulled toward the next couple o hours of horror for her, “we are going to nominate candidates, and then vote on those nominated.”
The girls agreed. Robin, a girl named Rhinnon, and Mina were all nominated. Then they were asked to present why being the princess would be good for everyone else.
Robin actually won the votes. Mina’s performance hadn’t been very convincing, and she preferred being not in the exact center of attention.
So Robin went to get a shower and put on the dress she liked most.
But once dressed and as they had the camera set, the hand grabbed Robin, and as she flailed her arms, wailing like a banshee, the girls realized they needed a photo, and their princess would look messed up in that position…
So Rhiannon was deemed princess. And she got a shower, then dressed. And this time, perfection!
Hilary Morton liked the picture. She sent the girls a missive saying that she could remove the mechanical hand as the primary grabber if the girls appointed a guard to protect the princess.
“All you really need is some girls whose mission is to keep the princess out of harm’s way, since there are undoubtedly enemies to her who want her to lose that position. If you desire improvements for your living conditions, you will appoint this guard.”
And so it was done. And of course, Robin was so angry that they took her princessship away, and they had decided to restrain her for two hours each week so she could serve the princess as a toilet.
Robin secretly loved this. She wished she could be Rhiannon’s only toilet, but it wasn’t in the cards, not with her being princess and all.
Now though, once people realized Rhiannon was missing, they started to panic. Everyone was screaming, several planning to destroy the robot, some wanting to break through the Line to pull Rhiannon out…
Several former Jumborcs from when the place was busier eight months before had to descend on a rope. They became even taller than normal and sat on the girls with their bare butts, pooping all over them to stop the commotion.
“Your princess will be returned to you,” one of them jeered. “Appoint someone else in the meantime. Stop panicking, and we’ll let six girls leave this month instead of three.”
“Escape” was every girl there’s favorite word. So they calmed down…until the Jumborcs went back up.
Poop was everywhere, of course. All over the floor, the girl’s bodies, the table the dumbwaiter came down to rest on.
Their shower, their dresses, the washing machines. Everything pooped on.
Robin had to blow a whistle to get the girls who were starting to panic again to listen. She got Mina and Isabelle and several of the guard to help instigate peace.
“”Guys, why don’t we just starting cleaning this mess?” Robin asked.
“With what?” Tracey sighed. “This isn’t just on us, it’s everywhere.”
Just then the dumbwaiter came down with this message,
“The Jumborcs have told what you girls did after the robot snatched your princess. You were mistaken to allow her near the robot in the first place. I will keep her captive myself. In the meantime, you girls will not have any food except the poop just dropped on you, until it is all gone. Don’t worry, the room temperature will remain at a degree so the poop will remain fresh. Bon eppetit.”
The girls were not happy about this, and losing the princess was a double blow. Robin received temporary “princess” status.
But they all got hungry, and they ate the poop since it was all they could eat. The time passed for the month too, and no escapees were announced.
“No one leaves here until the poop is all gone either,” said a nasty message. Which made the girls even more unhappy.
Robin refused to eat Jumborc poop, but begged Mina to poop in her mouth when she got so hungry she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Huh? Why would you want that?” Mina asked.
“Listen, you’re Isabelle’s toilet, right? Why can’t I be yours?”
“Because you’re princess..”
“I can still be princess and your poop slave, Mina. I want to be. Please.”
Mina sighed, then smiled. She plopped her butt onto Robin’s moth, tickled her chin, and began defecating.
Robin savored every moment of it. Yum yum.