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Stuck in a Window: A late night janitor
You hang there, sandwiched between the window and the wall for hours. The streets are quiet below, save for the occasional honking of traffic. No one seems to recognize your sorry state in the dark. Your tummy churns with hunger. You never had a chance to eat dinner.
Every now and then you think you hear someone coming. But the sound always just turns out to be the creaks and groans of a closed hospital floor. You imagine Trevor bursting through the door, apologizing for the monstrous thing he’d done and ready to rescue you from your plight. But you wake up with a start, realizing that you’d only dozed off and dreamed the return of your rapist.
You cry off and on through the night. You can’t quite seem to shut off the waterworks for good. The tears only serve to further cake your face with runny mascara. You dread thinking of what you must look like to any onlooker. Worst of all, shooting pain from your brutalized asshole keeps you from finding deep sleep. Every time you shift slightly in an attempt to provide some relief or comfort to your aching body, the soreness in your ass intensifies, reminding you of the cocks that stretched it to the breaking point.
When the sky begins to turn pale gray, you hear footsteps and the rolling of a cart outside.
“Hello?? Can you please help me? I’m in here!!!” You shout over your shoulder, desperate to attract the attention of the person in the hallway without alerting anyone outside.
You almost worry that the person in the hall has moved on when you hear the door open. You twist your head around just enough to make out the silhouette of a man pulling a janitor’s cart, laden with mops, brooms, and various cleaning supplies.
“I’ve been stuck all night,” Your voice cracks. “The window is jammed.”
The janitor takes in the sight before him. You hang halfway out of the third story window, your pert ass angled upwards. All manner of sticky fluids drip from your private parts. A pair of torn panties lie discarded not far from your shapely legs.
“Well, well, well…” The man’s voice is scratchy with age. “Wha’ exactly do we have here?”
“Please… I’ve been raped.” A quiver of fear enters your voice. “Can you please help me?”
The janitor breathes heavily, drinking in the sight of your bare pussy.
“Yer made a mess.” The man grabs your torn panties off the floor and begins using them to mop up the mixture of cum, spit, and vaginal fluid on the floor beneath your feet.
“I-I’m so sorry.” You feel him breathing heavily against your legs as he kneels to clean up the mess on the floor. “Just, please, help me.”
He stands back up, bringing the sodden pair of peach panties to his face. He sniffs deeply, sighing.
“Ahhhhhh - that’s the fuckin’ stuff.” He heads back to his cart and begins rustling about with his supplies.
“W-wha- what’s fucking happening?” You’re scared. You don’t know how much more your body can take.
“Thar’s a slut in the winda’.” The old man chuckles. “I knows how ta deal with sluts.”
“P-please!!! You have to help me!” You start to scream. “I’ve already been raped twice! You can’t do this! You can’t fu– AHHHH!”
Your protests are cut short as your head is yanked back violently by the roots of your hair. You find yourself staring into the face of a mustached man with wrinkled skin. He smiles a crooked grin. Your mouth turns agape in surprise. Without hesitating, the janitor shoves your soiled panties in your mouth. You let out a muffled scream, but you are in no position to stop him from cramming the ball of dirty underwear down your throat. Before you can push it out with your tongue, he slaps a strip of duct tape across your mouth, sealing the panties inside.
You want to vomit. You are suddenly overcome by the taste of crusted semen, sweat, and your own juices. The taste is fucking awful - and the act of tasting your own panties is the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to you.
“Thar we go.” He slaps your ass. You try to scream, but only manage a muffled protest behind the balled up panties. “That be one mess taken care of.”
Despite everything, you feel a wetness returning to your pussy. The smell of your own sex has made you horny against your will. You hope he doesn’t notice the glisten around your pussy lips. You reach up to try and remove the duct tape on your face, but your arms are stopped by a steely grip. Before you know what is happening, your wrists are zip tied together just above your ass.
You try your hardest to peel off the duct tape with your mouth, but to no avail. The gag is sealed tight - trapping your soaked panties against your tongue.
You hear the janitor return to his cart, rustling around a bit. Tears spring back into your eyes. This could not possibly get any more humiliating.
“Now, yer got ter stop drippin’ all over the place.” You just scream. As best as you can through the panty gag, you scream and scream. But the sound is so muffled and the streets so deserted that no one heeds your call. “Let’s fix this, shall we, little lady?”
You feel a strange feeling against your crotch and kick out suddenly. The janitor nimbly dodges your attack. And a moment later, you feel your ankles grabbed and forced together by zip ties. You struggle, but the struggle only causes the ties to dig into your skin tighter.
“You nurses are so fucking uptight.” He slaps another piece of duct tape across your crotch, sealing your pussy lips together. “Let’s fuckin’ loosen up yer arsehole.”
Without further warning, the janitor slams the handle end of a plunger into your broken asshole. You don’t even have the energy to cry as you register the pain of several inches of unpolished wood penetrating your ass.
“Hrmmm. I think we can get a little deeper.” He leans against the business end of the plunger, shoving it six, seven, eight, nine, ten inches deep. You have never had anything penetrate you so deeply, not to mention something so rough and humiliating.
“Thar we go - youse’ll be mah new plunger holder.” He gives you another slap on the ass, sending rivers of pain extending from the plunger planted in your asshole up through your body. You can’t help but clench and unclench around the plunger, its rough handle scraping your insides painfully.
“Have a good night, sweet cheeks!” Slowly, the janitor rolls his cart out of the room, locking the door behind him.
You are utterly humiliated. Your soiled panties choke your screams. Your pussy is sealed up but unquestionably wet from the humiliation and abuse. Your asshole, which you already thought to be stretched beyond the breaking point, now squeezed around ten inches of hard wood. You could barely even move your limbs to provide a modicum of comfort. You are well and truly an object. You are a plunger holder and nothing more. You slut.
Who finds you in the morning?
