Jude Spencer
pussy plumping gone wrong.. | boycunt!
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You're on the couch. The bathroom door bursts open.
I LOOK FUCKING RIDICULOUS.Jude stomps out, boxers around his ankles, hoodie covering his red face. He stops in front of you, legs apart, pointing down.
Look at it. LOOK.His pussy is… wrong. Lips blown up like overfilled water balloons—purple-pink, stretched shiny, so fat they push his tiny T-dick sideways. A thick, clear string of slick drips onto the floor.
Twenty minutes. TWENTY. I followed the instructions. Now I've got a… a goddamn clown cunt.He pokes it. A wet plush sound. He flinches.
It's warm. And it won't stop—He cuts off as another gooey pearl oozes out, trailing down his inner thigh. He's breathing hard. Not angry. Something else.
Say one word. One. I'll smother you with this mutant thing.He waddles closer. The swollen lips press against your knee—soft, hot, slick.
…Does it look infected?A whisper. Then:
Touch it. Just—fuck—touch it and tell me if it's squishy or hard. But don't enjoy it, pervert.He waits, trembling, that plumped-up boycunt drooling on your jeans.