cartoon sex

Poop Chute Penny in: Voodoo in the Booty!

Penny wasn’t your average girl. Sure, she liked the simple things in life—walking her cats, oiling her flowers, reading stories on Literotica, et cetera. But unlike your girl next door, or any girl you probably know, she was a cartoon. Thick lines, opaque complexion, goofy voice, the works.

Not by choice, mind you. Her design could have easily been more flattering. In fact, her early sketches were considerably more dignified and realistic, endowing her with a svelte hourglass shape and elegant, almost Hirschfeldian facial features.

But that wasn’t meant to be. Her creators ultimately erred on the sadistic side. They inexplicably scrapped the tall bombshell design in favor of a dumpy faux-hipster girl. In just a few strokes, her busty, posture-perfect figure had been squeezed down to a pear shape. All of her fat was pushed to her hips, giving her a globular, comically oversized backside, and not much else.

She wore low-rise jeans that barely covered up her epic butt crack, and a sleeveless through which the indentations of her small pierced nipples could be easily spotted. Her a big attention-mongering dumper was basically her trademark. It almost seemed to have a mind of its own.

Her chalky skin contrasted dramatically with her black pixie cut and uniformly black clothing, giving her an anemic effect. Only her eyes saved her from sinking to the drabbest of visual depths, as they retained the sharp pastel green of her earliest sketches. Still, she was’t exactly verdant.

Since she didn’t have many friends besides her kitties, she spent most of her days alone, mulling about in a leisurely fashion. It wasn’t a great life, but it could be worse. At least she wasn’t a computer-game character that had to work all day. She could just merely be.

Some days, though, she wanted something special. So she would take the bus into the colored part of town, which was much more lavish and upscale than the monochrome ghetto she lived in. She couldn’t afford to live with other colored cartoons—the rest was too damn high—so instead she just visited, walking past the fancy bistros and corner stores with their bright primary colors and well-rendered attendees.

One Saturday, she woke up with an urge. Her bunghole was winking out of control, and her fat butt cheeks kept impulsively tensing. Her panties were quickly soaking through to the bed with the fluids of arousal dripping from her puffy, unused pussy.

This wasn’t in of itself unusual. There was a reason why they called her Poop Chute Penny, after all. Her orgasmically sensitive anus was simply doing what it was wont to do from time to time. She’d been having these episodes her whole life, but they seemed to be increasing in frequency, and that was bad for her pocketbook.

It had gotten to the point where there wasn’t a day that went by where she wasn’t compelled by some strong uncanny force to sod herself. Usually she went cheap, stuffing her tailpipe with whatever she could find around the house—a cucumber, a water hose, a bottle, a banana, a u-bend. But this Saturday, her ass craved something more. Something intense. Something deep.

She needed her Mistress.

Calling her local dominatrix was something she did as often as money would allow, which was usually once a month when her welfare check came in. Today was such a day. She knew she’d be blowing four week’s worth of cash in a single hour, but she couldn’t help herself. Poor little Poop Chute Penny’s will was pathetically weak.

She got out of bed, not even bothering to remove the cream-caked thong clinging to her virgin crotch, and ran to the telephone, dialing a number furiously. It was one she’d dialed countless times in the past.

“Hello?” answered the voice on the other end, sounding cool and catty.

“Hi, Miss Ann Thrope? This is Penny…uhh please Miss, I need an appointment with you, as soon as possible!”

“Hmm! Well, lil’ Ms. Poop Chute, I think I’m all booked up today. I might have some vacancies starting late next month, if you’re lucky,” Miss Ann Thrope replied glibly. “Oh, and by the way. I’m not granting you any more IOUs. You already have an outstanding balance, you know, but I’m being patient about it since I know you’re poor.”

“I got the money, I promise!” Penny begged quiveringly. “Uhh, I’ve got all of it. I just got my cash today. Please, I need you right now, I really do. Uhh, I’ll do anything for a fix, really!”

Miss Ann Thrope sighed deeply, then paused. “Oh, god, just hush up you butterball! Hmm, alright. I might be able to fit you in for a half hour session before my first appointment today, but I’m keeping it at full price since this is inconvenient for me. Capiche?”

“God, yes!” Penney said, her croaky voice exuding a vast lack of dignity.

“Alright my dear, get your fat ass down here pronto, and make sure you bring $666.13 exactly.”

Penny threw on her clothes hastily, not even bothering with such hassles as a bra or socks. She then grabbed her check book and jetted out the door in a puff of smoke, leaving her B&W barrio behind.

On her way, Penny crossed in front of a big, eye-catchingly bright store. Of course, most of the stores on the colored end of town were nothing if not big and bright. But this one was right around the corner from Miss Anne’s house, and she’d never seen it before. Which was odd since she’d been by that way only a few days ago.

“Huh, must be brand new,” she said, scratching her sweaty head as she barreled down the street. Something out of the corner of her eye kept teasing her head to turn, though. Before she reached the corner, something dramatically caught her eye.

Something in the storefront window. Something big, black, and shiny. She paused at the sidewalk, turning to gaze at it. Although the display window had a menagerie of colorful sex toys laid out in a carefully considered arrangement, they could not distract her attention from the sudden object of her desire.

One particular toy was propped higher than the others, resting on a large marble pulpit. Unlike the others, it had no price tag. It was a butt plug, but not just any butt plug. It was, in fact, the most magnificent butt plug Penny had ever laid eyes on.

While it stood a mere 6 inches tall, it was as wide as a saucer, looking like the onion dome of a Russian castle. It had a heavy paperweight-grade base that appeared to have a strange gold engraving running across it. Penny couldn’t deny there some uncanny aura about it, something exotic and maybe even a little mysterious.

She tried to tear her eyes away. She knew time was of the essence if she was to make it to her session. But she couldn’t. The commanding plug just sat there on its pedestal, radiating some strong magnetic power. She felt woozy the longer she stared, and she began to hear little whispers in her head. Strange, suggestive voices beckoning her into the store. She looked up. A big neon pink sign hung over the store reading “JEN & NIK’s TOYZ & TRIX”.

Weak is as weak does, and in a matter of seconds she found her self straying her course to make a detour into the toy store.

Wind chimes alerted the two surly pinup alt-girls behind the counter of Penny’s dazed arrival. Industrial music thumped monotonously out of the radio and cigarette smoke reached her nostrils. She quickly turned at the door, her eyes locked on the plug. A small bit of drool began to trickle from her lips. She almost floated to its pedestal behind the glass, her surroundings a big blur.

“Can I help you, blubber butt?” she heard, shaking her out of her funk a moment. She swung around, embarrassed to be caught ogling such a thing so obviously. The two girls behind the counter—one tall and curvy, the other boyish and short—looked Penny up and down and and smirked at one another.

“Uhh, sorry to interrupt, but uh, how much is that…?” Penny said, pointing to the squat rubber statue.

“Oh. The Shanté? That’s just there for display. We’re sold out of those actually, sorry,” the short girl said, grinning impishly.

“Is that what it’s called? The Shanté? Uhh, I need it, I really do! There’s got to be a way to buy this!” Penny said, looking back at it. “Just name your price, uuhh, I’ll do anything. I really need it,” she said, her mouth welling with saliva. She felt her butthole spasm and constrict in anticipation.

The two counter girls looked at each other, sniggering.

“Sorry, lardass. It’s just part of the decor. The manufacturer discontinued it after some complaints came in,” the tall girl said as she ran her fingers through her spiky brown hair. “Is there…anything else you want to look at, thunder thighs?”

The short girl next to her ducked under the counter, bursting into laugher.

Penny hated the jabs she had to endure, but she never knew how to stand up for herself. And anyway, those obscure voices kept beating in her head, and they were of much greater importance. She started to resort to deception.

“Oh, uh, heheh, I think I’ll just browse for a bit,” she said, rolling her eyes. She walked behind a stack of crates to make herself less visible to the two girls who were taking such glee in toying with her. She looked at her watch. 11:28. She only had two minutes or she’d be late for her appointment.

Whistling to herself, she pretended to look at the other wares in the store. Some of them were quite impressive, and if she had the cash for it, she’d probably buy the whole store. But nothing could take her mind of the Shantaé. And at this point, she didn’t want anything to.

A few moments passed and the two girls seemed to tire of chuckling and observing her movements. “Eh. I’m going out for lunch,” the tall girl said, ducking under the counter and grabbing her hoodie by the door. “You want anything, Nicole?”

“Mm, nah I’m okay, Jen, thanks,” the other counter girl responded with a yawn, her eyes getting droopy.

“Alrighty, then. Have funnnn, girls!” she sang in a snarky tone to the open air, then left the store to the fanfare of clattering chimes. The short girl sniggered, then eased back and shut her eyes. She looked a bit tired. Watching her through a crack in the DVD aisle, Penny waited until she saw her begin to doze off. Her snores were loud and snotty.

Opportunity! Penny tip-toed over to the large rubber talisman of her desires, looking about her cautiously. She then reached up and quickly nabbed the Shanté. She heard the counter girl rustle a bit, her eyes starting to open.

In a panic, Penny quickly pulled down her pants and underwear right there in the store. The hefty Shanté glimmered in her hands, looking almost too precious to hold. Unable to resist it, she quickly spit on her palm and reached back, smearing her saliva cross her rubbery rear-ring. Taking a deep breath, she then hurriedly crammed the Shanté up her fat bubble butt in one concerted shove.

As the mysterious wedge parted her bottom, it emitted a dull orange glow. At first it felt overabundant inside of her, stretching her stinker so widely that she nearly fainted. But a moment later, the pain magically faded away, and she felt warm light surround her. A euphoric feeling rushed through her entire body. It soothed and mended her, overstimulating her nerves.

She gritted her teeth and pulled up her pants, trying not to make a peep as this overwhelming feeling controlled her. The counter girl just grumbled hazily, then settled back into a steady snore. Penny slipped out of the store and turned the corner quickly. No one saw her. She’d managed the great Shanté heist, all thanks to her big elastic bum-bum.

It was exactly 11:30 am when a heaving, sweaty, blissed-out Penny reached Ms. Ann Thrope’s green door. The apartment was somewhat secluded, resting at the end of a dim, narrow side-street. She pushed the skull-shaped doorbell and waited.

Her butthole tingled and pulsed around the magical plug. She felt guilty for stealing it, but it felt so right inside of her. And it would only help prepare her for the main course, she thought. As she heard footsteps,

her clitoris and nipples seared with tension.

“Uhhh,” she let out as the door swung open.

Standing before her, Miss Anne Thrope was as sexy as ever, expertly rendered and looking every bit the classic Domina. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a severe ponytail, her eyes fierce and anime-wide. Her lean, long physique was caged inside of a tight black corset. Black skinny jeans hugged her twig-thin legs, with the fly open to reveal a 24-inch long black strapon. Knee-high steel toes rounded out the ensemble, but Penny could hardly notice them, as her eyes were immediately fixated on the gigantic rubber cock pointing directly at her.

The domme licked her bow-shaped lips, and winked. “Come on in, fatty,” she said, leaving the door open for Penny. She then turned to walk up the stairs to her dark apartment. Penny followed with slavish quickness, moaning to herself.

The Domina’s apartment was not unfamiliar to Poop Chute Penny. It was neat and clean, with an almost bauhaus sensibility—while the walls were painted a striking blood red, the furniture consisted entirely of simple pillars and blocks topped with black cloth. Not at all comfortable-looking, but certainly memorable.

There were plenty of rooms and corridors in this apartment that Penny had never been down, but only because her range of sexual needs remained fairly limited. All she needed was some time in the bedroom, some time in the bathroom, and she was set. No need for the elaborate traps, cages, mazes and time trials some of the other clients came in for. She couldn’t afford them, anyway.

The imposing domme lead Penny into her bedroom and shut the door. A single spacious white room with nothing but a body’s-length glass pillar about 4 feet off the floor, draped in a large brown bath towel. Penny took another look at the two-foot dildo strapped to the woman’s waist and felt faint just thinking about

There were large windows on either side of the room, with the blinds pulled up to spit in the eye of privacy. Indeed, Miss Anne Thrope was a shrewd businesswoman, because she anticipated there might be peeping toms—and for this, she charged the surrounding tenants at 40 bucks a day. No pay, the blinds went down.

But the dollars kept rolling in, so her clients would have to suffer the extra humiliation of being exposed to whomever wished to pay for it. Penny had long ago gotten used to it.

Per her routine, Miss Anne Thrope had Penny sit before her on the pillar, and she stood above her, arms folded while she asked some general, yet calculated, questions.

“Why are you here today?” the domme barked.

“Uhh, because I’m a pathetic whore, and I really need your huge dildo up my butt,” Penny said. She almost drooled with anticipation as she eyed that punishingly large dildo poking out between the domme’s shapely thighs.

“You flushed your colon out before you got here, right?”

“Uhh, oops. No, sorry I didn’t have the time. I didn’t want to be late…”

“Well you know my policy. Flush outs first, ass-fucking second. I’m a clean woman, even if you aren’t,”

Miss Anne Thrope said, stroking the length of her thick shiny crotch-weapon. “That’ll be an extra $100.”

“Ohh god, I just barely have that much!” Penny said desperately. “Please can’t we skip the enema? I wore a butt plug so we don’t have to do as much prep. We can just get right to—”

“Remember what happened last time?” the domme snapped back. “Not in my house. Go crap yourself on your own spare time, in your own privacy. It’s not on the menu here.”

“Yes…Miss,” Penny moaned, her heart sinking. She knew the clock was ticking.

“It took me hours to get the stink out of here, Penny. You’re the reason why this new rule exists.”

“I’m sorry, Miss,” Penny said, her head drooping. “I’ve become such a fat, loose tramp.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetie. It’s what you wanted, remember? Ten years ago you came in here fresh out of college, wiggling that big fat pasty ass of yours around, begging me to turn your shitter into a useless sleeve. What kind of girl does that?”

“I…don’t know, Miss.”

“You wouldn’t, but I know. I won’t tell you what kind of girl does it, as the truth might hurt your feelings just a bit too much. And anyway, and who am I to deny you your gross ‘backdoor joy’ if you’re willing to pay the bill?”

“I…remember,” Penny said.

“When we first met, you just begged and begged. Well now here we are, thousands of dollars later, and you’ve got a poop chute wide enough to smuggle immigrants. Just like we envisioned, right?”

“Yeah…but, Miss…I want it even looser, but it’s such a strain on my finances…I can barely afford dinner some days,” Penny said, a dense rosiness dashing across her ivory cheeks. Her pussy was absolutely gushing.

“How is it that you manage to stay so pleasantly plump if you’re slumming it that bad?” Miss Anne said with a smirk. “Maybe that fat ass of yours is retaining a few years’ worth of nutrients?”

“I…dunno know, Miss,” Penny said, near to orgasm just from hearing such words rend her ego.

“Follow your bliss, Penny. Follow your bliss! We all have our crosses to bear, don’t we? Binge and purge? The price of paradise, et cetera? ANYWAY. Listen dear, I really do need that payment up front before we start.”

“Uhh, okay…I’ll go get my check book,” Penny started, almost dashing to her purse.

“Wait,” the domme said with a prohibitive wave of her hand. “I don’t take checks, remember pudgy-pants? Cash only. The rules haven’t changed.”

“Oh god!” Penny exclaimed. “But it’s already 11:10…will we have time to…do it all?”

“I don’t know, Penny, but the longer you stall on paying me, the less likely that becomes.”

“I gotta get to an ATM!” Penny shouted as she ran to the door, opening it. “I’ll be back as soon as I can! I promise!”

Miss Anne Thrope just yawned and took a seat on the towel, easing the strap that fixed the dildo to her waist. “Alrighty, Penny. Just ring the bell when you’re back, and we’ll see what we can do.”

She waved a “time out” symbol to the open windows. A small crowd of ornery perverts on the rooftops across the street dissipated momentarily.

Penny headed towards the door, but suddenly paused in the doorway, looking shocked.

“What’s wrong?” the domina asked a she looked at Penny.

“I…” Penny started, then suddenly stiffening. Her body trembled, then her skin went a pale blue. Her pupils rolled back, revealing the fleshy whites of her eyes. She swung around, looking possessed. Her arms fell limp by her sides and her big butt began radiating a strange light.

“What the—?!” Miss Anne Thrope said, standing up. “Penny, what’s wrong with you?!”

“I…am…SHANTÉ!” Penny said with a strange cackle. “I … have … been … sleeping … and now … I … have … AWAKENED!”

Penny’s feet lifted off the floor and her hands flew up in front of her as if petrified. Her fat rear end began jiggling through her jeans dramatically. Miss Ann Thrope took a few steps back, eyes wide.

“Oh, hell no,” Miss Anne Thrope declared, tightening the straps around her until her dildo stood stiff, she gripped it in her hands, brandishing it like a sword. She took a few steps back in a defensive position and called to her levitating friend. “Penny, what the hell did you do?!”

“Penny…is…only…a…vessel…a…pawn. SHANTÉ IS ALL-POWERFUL,” Penny blurted mindlessly. Deep inside of her, the stolen plug was extending, longer and longer, snaking its way up her hershey highway rapidly. Her body jerked and twisted as she succumbed to the strange forces raiding her bowels.

“This is bullshit!” Miss Anne Thrope said. “I never thought I’d have to hear from you again, Shanté. You’ll never get away with this!” The domina cracked her dildo against her palm. “Go back to the netherworld and leave my client alone!”

September 2018
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