Chapter Text
Julia loved hanging out at bars in her free time. She didn’t drink at those bars. She hunted in them.
She was an expert at not being noticed unless she wanted to be, and she used that skill to her advantage. She watched and waited patiently, biding her time until she saw someone else hunting weaker people in the crowd. It could be someone spiking a drink, unwanted touching, following a person out or cornering someone using their body. Julia wasn't picky, anyone being predatory was fair game to her.
She was good at spilling tainted drinks “accidentally” before separating predator from prey. And when she got them alone, Julia loved to play. She was a master hypnotist, and her favorite game was to make the predators hurt themselves. Slowly.
She would ensnare them, and guide them outside, where she could take her time to question them, and find the best punishment to suit each sub-human she caught.
The latest monster she had found, she decided to torment using nonprescription drugs. He lived alone, so it was even easier to cover her tracks. She walked with him into the closest pharmacy and told him to buy Loperamide. She showed him which one he would buy, and that each time he left his house, if he had less than eight pills left, he would buy more, until she told him he could stop. She also made it clear he was to not use the same pharmacy more than once in three weeks.
As they walked home, she continued to question him and weave in all her directions. He was not going to do anything or tell anyone but her about the symptoms he would start having. He would only drink minimal fluids, and was not allowed any baked beans since he was forced to answer honestly that that dish never failed to get his bowels moving.
She told him he would take two pills every six hours, without fail. He would come visit her at the mall where she worked, every weekday at 8:30 am, on his way to work, and every weekend day, he would see her at the park she decided at 10:00 am. He would then detail his suffering for her, in as much detail as she wanted that day.
He was also no longer allowed to feel any pleasure at touching his genitals. Nor would he allow anyone else to touch him with the intention of anything sexual. Julia always reveled in this rule. She gave the same one to everyone she punished.
He would forget her name and face as soon as he could no longer see her, and he didn’t know why he needed to follow her instructions, just that he did, or he would suffer dire consequences. He would also keep each part of each instruction a secret.
The first morning he came to see her, he had very little to report.
The next day he had a little pain, felt full and gross, but nothing was unmanageable.
The day after he started suffering more, and she had new directions for him when he came by.
She wanted him to buy four high definition webcams, two ring lights and a big box of puppy pads. He had to set up half at home and half at his desk at work. Those were the two places he would be allowed to have bowel movements going forward. She gave him a website where he would create an account and he had to post videos any time he tried to go, with profits going to her, of course. One camera on his face and one of his hole, lit up like Times Square. Of course he would only remember this directive when it was relevant, and when he put away his equipment, it would become invisible to him until he needed it again.
Each subsequent day increased his suffering, but Julia didn’t allow him to relent. She even told him to start eating more to compound his problems. She also said that he wasn’t trying hard enough or often enough to relieve himself. She wanted to see at least two new videos daily, of at least 15 minutes each. He was required to be exerting himself to her satisfaction.
“The video you posted this morning looked half-assed. No kidding, you weren’t able to pass anything out of your worthless body. You were barely trying. If you manage to get anything out, even if it’s as pathetic as I expect, you need to post a picture of it with a ruler once you’re done. If you can’t get it out by yourself, I might have to cut it out of you on the weekend, so, you know, maybe try harder?” she threatened.
It worked, though. The next video he posted that afternoon had him straining until he was purple and shaking, but he eventually managed to pass an extremely hard, dry turd. The size was a bit disappointing, but it was a start. Julia was also pleased at seeing the small beginning of a hemorrhoid starting.
The next morning, she ordered him to double every meal he had been eating, and to add dairy to each meal and snack. She was pleased to see several more videos uploaded with titles like “Attempting to go again” and “It’s so big it won’t come out”, with him straining for all he’s worth, but no results, other than a swollen asshole and sweat dripping down.
When the next video finally had him passing something more substantial, it had the bonus of being very long. It took him over twenty minutes, and it featured not only grunting and whining, but also cursing and when the turd finally breached his sphincter fully, a loud yelp. After a few minutes more of him struggling with every muscle in his body clenched hard, the log fell and showed his hole looking worse for wear, a bit bloody, a lot swollen, and more hemorrhoids than the day before.
He obediently posted the picture of the log, bright red clearly visible against the dull, dark mass.
When he whined to Julia the next morning, she just laughed and told him he needed to increase what he was eating even more. She gleefully told him to add in at least 2 protein bars between meals, and a late night snack of at least 100 grams of cheese.
She kept him at that level for several weeks, finding it was a good balance of pain for him and entertainment for her. There were several regular viewers tuning into the videos posted daily, so she was also making a bit of money.
She loved seeing the progression of his “failure to shit” videos. Seeing how the mass inside him pressed down a gradually larger and larger circumference until it looked like he was trying to pass a grapefruit, but he couldn’t get it past his increasingly wrecked hole. Each time he gave up or “gave birth”, she reveled in seeing how the tight little hole from months ago was long gone. His anus was so swollen after each effort, it looked like a dozen or more blueberries were clustered outside his body, just under the skin. There was also the oozing blood that couldn’t be ignored.
If anyone deserved to be torturing themselves, it was someone who drugged people’s drinks.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. There were countless more people that needed Julia’s brand of payback, and she could only reasonably manage a dozen or so at a time, so this one was nearing his end. She decided to have him bring her his equipment, since he would no longer need it after today.
Julia told him about how much he enjoyed the feeling the drugs gave him, but that maybe he had pushed his body too far. She told him he needed to go to the hospital at night and tell them he had a history of being depressed and found that the pills made him feel better. But he needed help now. Then, when no one was looking, he would sneak away and write a note to put on the outside of the door. He would go to a bathroom and cut himself open as if he was trying to make space for the massive boulder of shit in his guts to come out.
The note said “I can’t live like this anymore”.