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Dumpster Diving

By Ramdaddy

**Disclaimer: I don't actually condone/perform the behaviors found in my stories. These are just stories, silly fantasies that are meant to be funny and sexy, but dark. The events in my stories should not be acted out between human beings or anything else for that matter. These are made up characters and they're made tough.

This genre is full of impossible fetishes. You probably wouldn't inflate your lover till he/she popped if it would hurt them, so please don't try to act out these things either.**

He liked seeing her like that. Pink and white hair under a paper hat, grabbing her own horns in frustration. Was that a fetish? Did the guy who owned Buster Burger get off on dressing his employees that way? "So good..." Another waffle stick, he'd switched it up that night. No potato wedges for him, fattening.

It was the third night that Benjamin Mathews had dropped in at 8:00pm. He'd skipped a few days, the uppity goat wasn't working closing shift those times. He'd checked to see, he knew her car now too. She was uppity putty in his fluffy hands.

She washed the table next to him so hard. She jerked her wash rag around, sneering. "I spit in your Burger." She moved to the table behind him.

Fluffy cheeks even fluffier with a disgusting grin, a big bite right in the center. "I know."

"You're a real douche, you know that?" Huffing, grinding her rag on the table.

"You know why I'm doing this, don't you?" He sipped his coffee.

"Cause you're a limp-dick prick." She punched her rag in her bucket of soapy water.

"You have no idea." Leaning back, tipping his chair, he licked the corner of her mouth. "I'm doing this because I'm better than you, because I like seeing you frustrated."

She punched her rag into her bucket again.

"You got snide with me." Snide in return, he licked the corner of his lips again. "I'll fucking keep you here every single night you close. I'll take my time."

"I've already talked to my manager about you." She wanted to butt him, she wanted to put him right out of that chair.

"Way to be gender normative." A sick little laugh. "Poor, little Pansy the goat, the big, bad lawyer's taking up all her time."

Yellow hoof tapping, eyes closed, she groaned washing the table. "I hope you get fucking fat."

"We have a gym just for the partners." His whole body trembled with a laugh. "The best part is, with my job, no one tells me how long I work." Sip.

She ruffled her hair and grabbed her horns. "What the fuck did I do?"

"Potato wedges." Snickering, another waffle stick.

She was suddenly out of breath, shoulders heaving. "I fucking corrected you, and this is how you get back at me?"

"Baby, you could just look at me the wrong way and I'd do this same thing." Another waffle stick. "Go ahead, take your little horns and butt me. I'll own the whole chain then."

Gritting teeth, stamping hoof. "I'd bust your ribs."

"You'd be out of a job, but then again you will be anyway." Curling tongue and candyass voice somehow becoming threatening. "This will end one of two ways." Another waffle stick. "I'll either buy this place and just fire your uppity, little ass, or I might just get my friends at the health department to close it." Yet another transfat loaded, unsanitary waffle stick. "Maybe I'll hire you as my secretary, make you wear a little, tiny skirt." He finished his coffee, long since cold. "Tight top, we'll keep that paper hat."

She punched the table.

"It really suits you." The burger wrapper crinkled in his hands.

"Sir." Fat and waddling, her manager approached. "We've been closed thirty minutes now. I'm glad you like our food, but I think it's time to go." His soulless face dropped, fat sagging.

Matt's innocent, laughing smile was back. "Do you guys do catering?"

"Sir?" Soulless, but confused.

"I'm throwing a party this weekend, I think I might get you to provide the food." Shit-eating grin, the burger wrapper flew over the fat lump and into the trashcan.

"Didn't you hear what he said? We're closed." Pansy's hoof tapped again.

"How many people are we talking about?" Soulless, but greedy.

"Fifty, sixty if they bring wives and girlfriends." Big, fluffy hand out for a shake, his fluffy face, evil, turning to look at Pansy. "Be sure and have Pansy involved." He jiggled with a laugh. "She's my favorite cashier."

Snarling, bucket crashing on the tile, fists balled. "You prick!"

"Pansy, go take the trash out." The soulless cellulite mound was in love. "Fifty or sixty people you say?"

Matt cackled and shook hands.

Angry goat and trash bags exploding out the back door, the dumpster rang. "Fucking..."

Bam! Horns on dumpster. Bam!

"I hate him!"

Bam!

Bam!

Bam!

Her hands touched the edge of the dumpster, filthy and greasy. She could smell stale milk, dead meat.

Bam!

She could smell herself. Under those tan, uniform pants, was a belted undergarment, "Slut Diapers". Too thin to crinkle, they still managed to hold a fair amount of her horny drippings. Half precaution and half fun, the past two times his insults soaked her real panties. That shit-eating grin, that attitude, the way he talked to her. She wanted to rub her sopping wet incontinence panties, she wanted him to rub them more. That stupid curled tongue, candyass voice, what would he say if he saw her wearing that? If he knew what she liked, diapers and being treated like an idiot?

Bam!

What would it feel like, having him push her head against the dumpster, jerk her pants down? Find her wearing a sopping wet absorbent undergarment? Big hands, big feet... would he make fun of her before he pulled that sopping half-diaper down and fucked her stupid? She huffed and butted again.

Bam!

He'd hold her there, half with his hands, and half with his cock up her dripping slut-hole. He'd fill her empty, little head full of insults, then fill her cunt up with stinking cum. Sticky, thick, he'd make her wear her wet half-diaper home, full of him.

Bam!

She had to wash her hands. She staggered back in, hands covered in Buster Burger's leavings. She shoved the bathroom door with her elbow. She washed, one handful of soap, another, another... she had to get them clean first. She ripped a paper towel free and opened the stall door. She'd never masturbated at work before, disgusting.

Pants around her ankles, hands between her legs, diaper full of longing. What else would he do? "I hate him so bad!" Would he like that she wore diapers for fun? Would he make her piss herself and laugh at her? She couldn't do this here, it was time to close.

Out of breath, the place was empty except the bag of fat. "Did he already go?"

"Fifty or sixty people and the catering fee!" Soulless, but ecstatic. "Whatever you're doing, keep it up."

"I didn't do anything!" She slapped her hands on the counter, she watched him waddle, lights going off.

She took her coat, the cold night wasn't going to feel good on her wet diaper. Bundled up in thick, pillow plastic she stepped out. Gritting teeth, the cold went right through her pants to her lustful undergarments. She ran to her car, cheap and dirty.

"You know I'm not going to get a place like Buster Burger to cater a party." Arrogant and fearless, he stood behind her. "I wonder if that big, fat fuck will fire you just because of that?"

Flickering and flashing, her keys fell out of her hands from the shock.

"Sorry, Fatty. I don't think I'm going to get you to cater after all. I'm only eating here to piss off the goat." He curled his tongue, another innocent smile. "Yeah, that's how I'll break it to tubby."

"You're sick, you know that?" Horns ready.

"I know." Cracking knuckles. "I'm a complete dick, but I have a right to be. I'm not a peon like you."

"Fuck you." Searching for her keys.

"Get down on your knees and crawl, worm. They're under the car." Symphonic and vicious, every word made her heart race. Hate, love, he was a drug she didn't want. He stepped closer, she bent down. "I loathe you." Earnest. "I loathe most people. Everyday I wade neck deep through people I hate, dealing with their stupidity. I kiss ass..."

"I bet you kiss a lot of ass, don't you? Are you the office rimjob boy?" Her keys sparkled in the dim light, skipping away, penny loafer in their place. "You motherfucker!" Horns ready, eyes unready to see swollen balls and fat cock.

"I said, I kiss ass just to get more money, but I'm still better than fast food trash." A zipper slipped down and her ears perked. "Go ahead, scream. Run and tell your manager. I'll be long gone, and no one will believe you. A big lawyer, big lawyer, sticking his dick in the face of some dime an hour slut like you? In your wildest dreams." His hand slapped the car, then shook his cock in her face. "Limp dick, wasn't that what you called it?"

Heart racing, he was the classical music of vulgarity and lewdness. Licking her lips, jaws open wide. "Put it in my mouth, see what happens." Teeth grinding, she opened again.

"You're a little slut, I could tell." Shit-eating grin. "If I were merciful I'd let you have some hot soup on a cold night." Zipping fly. "You aren't worth it though." Patting her on the head, mashing that stupid paper hat.

"Not good enough for you, little lawyer?" She started up.

"Not in the least. You've got a nice little ass, some nice tits too. Kind of big in the shoulders for my taste." His symphony was hitting the highest crescendo.

"Too bad, I could have made lightning shoot out your ass." She tried to match his grin.

"Maybe, I just don't go for working class retards." He missed a note.

Thud!

Matt the mutt, the Hammerass in Hammer Associates, met the Buster in Buster Burger. Hammerass on the pavement, hands on nose. She was upright, horns twinkling, bloody patch between her horns. His blood.

"Fuck you!" Hoof gritting on pavement.

He shook the water from his eyes, blood pouring, nose throbbing. He'd seen dogs that had their noses broken. He was going to have that ugly crease in his snout. He'd sound nasaly like that bitch Darlene. His teeth were all good though. "You're sued now, honey!" Twitching, her hoof flying past his head.

"I'm a working class retard! I haven't got any money!" Head dropping. "Whip your dick back out, be merciful." Cackling, hoof scraping.

He didn't sound nasaly... yet. Maybe it just hurt? Maybe it wasn't broken? Standing, arms out, horns in hands, penny loafers scraping. She pushed him, stopped, butted in his hands twice, and pushed again. "Stop! We can both just walk away."

"Do you say stop when the other partners put it in your ass?" She slung her head, horns stuck in his big hands.

He gritted his teeth now. "You bitch."

"Alright, alright let go of my horns. Fuck, do you hold the other partner's dicks that tight?" Head slinging. "Let me go, I'll quit." Liar.

His hands let go and his head instantly rang. A big carry through, she slapped him like a redneck slaps his wife. She hit like a man, broad shoulders. He'd never hit a girl, he'd never thought about it. Bloody nose, head slapped like a fluffy tennis ball, laughing goat in his face... broad shoulders. The laughing stopped when he grabbed a horn, hooves skipping, his hand took her to the pavement. His palm stung.

Lying on the pavement, hand on her face, she leaned up. Standing over her, black suit coat, black pants, vest and tie. Big, fluffy cheeks, still an innocent face. She stood up, clutching her cheek, she wasn't crying. "You shouldn't have called me a retard."

Blood on his teeth. "I should have just called you a bitch, you go down like one."

Her hands grabbed his coat, his hands grabbed her horns. Every time her leg lifted to kick him in the balls, he kicked the opposite one out from under her.

"You pervert." Out of breath.

"Cunt." Holding tight.

"You fight like a girl for someone with such a big cock." Still locked, still struggling.

Big cock? Did she just compliment him? "Maybe I ought to spin you around? Get behind you and give you a good internal beat down?"

She groaned. His hands on her horns, her hands on his wrists. "First you want to fight me, now you want to fuck me?" Hooves scraping. "Pick one and stick to it."

Out of breath, hands weakening. "For what it's worth, I wanted to fuck you first." It was like holding on to one of those mechanical bulls from the front. Horns drifting, first left and then right, she jerked back and butted forward.

Huffing, neck tiring. "I'm too tired to come up with a real insult." Sighing. "You dildo."

"Better than being a..." She got her second wind.

"Don't fucking call me retarded!" Angry goat and busting boards, she butted him. The wooden divider that hid the dumpster from the drive-through exploded around her horns. He was gone, lame, little sidestep.

"You are one strong girl." Grabbing his knees, spitting blood on the pavement. Big, fluffy hands took her horns from behind. "Holy shit!" His eyes fixed on all the horn marks on the dumpster.

Horn marks on the rusty patch. Horn marks on the clean paint. Fuddrucker had been there, but his graffiti was horned all to hell and back... Who the hell is Fuddrucker?

"You're got a real anger problem, honey."

Horns drifted, hands stayed put. She pressed her sore head against the dumpster, she pressed her longing ass against his throbbing dick. "Fucking candyass."

His nose stung, stale milk. His dick throbbed, warm goat. "Yeah." Laughing, innocent smile. "I'm a candyass."

One big, fluffy hand left her horn. Eyes wide, her belt unbuckled. "You pervert."

"You want it." Shit-eating grin.

Her hands, careful, touched the dumpster on the clean paint. "You better not have crotch rot."

"Clean as a whistle." A premature hump. "I'm more worried about you, burger slut."

Now she had a shit-eating grin, big,fluffy hand unzipped her fly. Sticky, her hands slipped into spilled soda. "If you call me retarded while we're fucking, I swear..."

"I can be so much more creative." Hand on the back of her pants, pulling. "How does cum-sucking tit-queen work?" Her pants came down, crinkling. "What the hell?"

Biting her lip, "Just do it, it's fucking cold out." She was still in his grip, but a curious hand felt her damp, absorbent panties. Only the lightest crinkle, hand traveling over ass, over pussy.

"What are you wearing?" Tugging the belts.

"What's it look like, dumbass?" Looking over her shoulder, face red. "It's an absorbent panty, incontinence underwear."

"A fucking diaper?" Laughing, his tongue curling. The innocence was gone, but it was still a smile. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." She turned back to the dumpster and planted her hands. "I just like wearing them." She ground her lips, cupped hand patting padded pussy.

Pat, rub. "A fetish for diapers, huh?" The concept was alien. He'd seen those sites, a few of his favorite sick girl sites had hinted at it. He'd just never looked.

"I'm cold, hurry up." Her attitude was gone.

Pat, pat. "Do you use them?"

Gasp, moan. "Yes."

Pat, mash. "You're disgusting." Maybe this wasn't such a weird idea. Caring for a sick girl was one thing, but having that much control... What would Darlene look like in a diaper?

"Fuck me or let me go!" Bam! Horns on dumpster.

Grabbing and rubbing, horny goat drippings and who knows what else squishing between hand and padding. He could feel it starting to leak. "I should get a picture of you like this. Better yet, maybe I'll hold you here till you piss yourself." He laughed, she moaned.

"Fuck me you asshole!" Bam!

What would Darlene look like in diapers? Tall, elegant afghan hound; that flowing hair and a pissy diaper. He could hear her nasaly voice: "Matt, I wet my diaper."

"What do I have to do?" Biting her lip. Bam! Horns on dumpster. Crash! Crash! Hands pounding.

"Tell me you want some hot soup." Shit-eating grin.

Shivering. "Soup sounds good." Neck bending, hand off horn and on hair. She screamed, and pounded the dumpster.

One handful of hair, the other full of wet diaper. "Soup it is then." Her diaper slid to one side.

His aim was perfect. Screaming, she leaned her head back. Laughing, he jammed his head in. Pussy wet with lust, his fat malamute cock broke right through, unstoppable.

"For such a little shit you're fucking big!" Stale milk stink filled her lungs, musty dog cock filled her cunt.

Hands shift, grabbing her horns. "You like this don't you?" Laughing and humping. He toyed with her, short, quick strokes. Despite playing with her he still filled her up, little dog with an oversized cock. "Is it the abuse, me, or both?"

"Fuck you!" Whining.

"Oh honey!" Laughing. "We're not fucking yet, that's just the shaft and head, the knot's on its way." Candyass voice. "I guess it's both, you freak."

Wham! Cock-in-cunt-with-horn-on-dumpster!

His hips pumped, arms folding around her waist. He could hear her whining, the knot bumping her. He laughed. Darlene would be better, but the goat was fine. She was tight and wet, no dead fish either she pumped back. Knot pushing in, she whined again... a little nasaly. Warm, wet pussy lips and wet diaper padding against his dick, balls bumping her work uniform, this was the makings of a repeat. "You're my little practice girl."

"What?" Bang! Wham! Horns humped into dumpster. "What the fuck are you saying back there? Turn me away from the metal!" Big, fluffy hand caught her hair again; her head was staying against the dumpster. Where it belonged.

He was climbing her. Goat pussy stretching, Malamute cock too big to fit all the way. Broad shoulders heaving, hands pushing her head came up. Tears in her eyes, hoof stamping, she yelled and whimpered. Squishing and squirming, he knotted and she came.

Horns were handlebars again. Steering her like a bike, he turned her to the wooden wall... what was left of it. "How does it feel to know I've won?"

Clunk! Horns on wood paneling.

"I make more money than you, I know you wear diapers, and now I'm going to cum in you. How does that make you feel?" Candyass voice, knot throbbing.

No answer, just a bleat.

"You better like this, you better appreciate my cock." Clunk! Slam! She tobbled to all fours. She really was like a mechanical bull now. "Because this is only the beginning." He didn't know how long he'd been on the bucking bitch, but it was a record. He'd have beer tickets for life if any of this happened in a bar. "I'm going to have my way with every hole in your body as often as I want."

Groaning. "Fuck you..."

"No. Fuck you, stupid!" He smiled, stupid was allowed. "If you don't do what I want, when I want, I'll tell everyone you wear diapers. I'll show them the horn marks and busted wall! You broke company property, sweet heart."

Legs straightened, cock stretched, goat screamed. She pounded her fist on the pavement, biting her lip.

"Soup's on."

He held her there, every pump and every squirt needed to stay right inside her. He wanted her to remember this. There was something satisfying to feeling cold diaper padding brushing his knot as he filled the uppity whore. She didn't pound or protest, her mouth agape she rocked. Gentle and slow, her big, fat ass rocked in time with every squirt. He knew the hot cum was almost burning her, better though was the sting of knot lodged in her. "You'll be bruised in the morning, bitch."

He slid her diaper back in place, making sure all that soup didn't go to waste. Packing his malamute pecker, he half waddled and half strutted. Heading for his car, whistling, shit-eating grin glowing with a new force.

All fours, mouth still open, she caught her breath. The skin under her eyes turned red. One hand touched her diapered crotch, just what she wanted; a diaper full of hot, stinking cum. "Hey." Weak knees, she got up.

"What?" He stopped.

"I need you to do something." He turned, she shuffled with her pants around her ankles. "Pull my pants up, tell me I have to wear it."

Eye brows raised, tongue curled. She was getting interesting now. "Shuffle over to me, dummy." He puffed, nose too sore to snort. "I don't come to you."

Her hooves scraped, her horns lowered. She gasped, his big hand cupping on her crotch, the other sliding under her shirt. Her mouth was open, so he filled it with tongue. She groaned, then moaned, her tit in his hand. "You like this don't you?" Slobber trailed between their lips.

He grabbed her nose, finger in one nostril and thumb in the other. "You're my little dummy, aren't you?" Candyass voice, guiding her head from side to side.

"Stop it!" Eyes crossed.

"You like having your diaper full of my cum?" His eyes twinkling. "Yes you do." He made her nod. "You're going to wear that home." He pulled her pants up, a pat in the crotch for good measure. "Now go home." He turned to walk away. "I can't stand to look at you anymore."

He was perfect... She wasn't Darlene.