Reunions (Part 5)
[Pictured: Zach, the morning after his first night staying in Brent’s apartment.]
The reunion lasted a month that year. At the end of it, Aaron separated Brent from his uncle Mick–a harder task than he’d expected, piled Brent into the pickup and drove him back across the state. Brent, eyes glazed, kept nosing over and licking at his Cousin Aaron’s spent cock through the filthy, cumstiff denim of his overalls, until they arrived in front of a rundown apartment building where Aaron had arranged a room for Brent to live in. He was family after all, and Brent was a man now. It was time he had a place of his own, not a life in a college dorm. Aaron carried him upstairs and inside, where he gave him a bath, one last fuck, and laid him down to sleep it off. He left a couple thousand dollars and a note on the nightstand, then climbed back into the truck and sped off again.
Brent slept for nearly two days straight, and when he finally did wake up, it was with the sensation that the past month must have been a dream, but the knowledge that it most certainly wasn’t. He saw the note and cash next to him, and puzzled over what was written there. The words were all in his head still, but he had to search for them.
Money for bills. If this is what you want, keep at it, but you’ll always have a home with us. See you next summer.
Master Mitch, Cousin Aaron and Dad
There was some lasting damage. Brent’s hair never did grow back in, his scalp now smooth for life. Over the summer, he grew out a goatee, preferring to have some hair on his face than none at all. He’d gained close to one hundred pounds that month, and couldn’t shed it for the life of him. Some of the piercings would come out but the septum ring was impossible to remove–it was jointless, and nothing he tried could cut it away. The tattoos faded over time, but his memories didn’t. He’d lost his assistantship after going missing for a month, but he returned to class in the fall, desperate to pick up where he’d left off, trying not to think about the reunion, trying not to think about Aaron, and Mitch, and his Dad’s thick, raunchy cock.
The horniness was, at times, unbearable. Money kept arriving from his family, which allowed him to live alone in the apartment with a substantial amount left over for him to spend as he wanted. He splurged on food, and gained another twenty pounds by December, the 250 on his short frame giving him a firm beach ball that he waddled in front of him everywhere he went. On the worst nights, he was reduced to climbing into the bathtub and soaking himself down with his own piss, grunting and snorting, fucking himself with the largest dildos he could buy, cumming over and over again, but he held out. This life grew to something close to normal for him. The urges grew less intense over time–he found that if he skipped showering his normal musk would keep his lust satisfied enough that he would only go whole hog every couple of months.
The spring of his junior year came and went, and after his finals Aaron arrived to take him to the reunion. Brent didn’t resist–he was all too happy to be back in his leather gear, Master Mick leading him around the camp on his leash, drinking down his uncles’ and cousins’ piss, fucked at both ends, stuffed with food all the time, everyone’s favorite pig on the compound. A month later, it was back to his life, but now he found himself missing his family. It was lonely here, without them. He told himself that this was for the best, that he had to make something of himself, but he couldn’t escape his family anymore. He would be dragged back in every year whether he liked it or not, so why keep at it? Why make something of himself that he couldn’t be?
He slipped badly, that fall. There was construction happening all over campus, and this one roughneck, fuck, he had Brent drooling, and Brent’s attention drew them together, even though the worker insisted to himself that he was still straight, even while he had his cock buried in Brent’s ass. He fucked the pig back behind the student union building by the dumpsters every day, and the pig was all too happy to clean off his scummy cock afterwards. Brent found his fantasies overwhelming them both, before long. Zach, his new master, stopped showering and moved into Aaron’s apartment. He quit his job and they became staples at the city’s leather and biker bars. The entire apartment was soon trashed, as they fucked day and night. Brent tried to end it a few times, but he’d already ceded too much will and control to this stranger in a desperate bid to end the loneliness. He stopped pretending in January, and refused to enroll for his final semester.
They spiralled deeper down, and six months later, when Aaron arrived, he found Brent sucking Zach’s cock in the filthy living room. He was covered with tattoos now, his piggy cock locked up in chastity. Without any stimulation, his brain was turning to mush, but he didn’t need to think. His family could think for him. Zach, shaped by wild fantasies, was now six and a half feet tall, over 400 pounds of bulk, and stank like an outhouse. He smoked cigars and chewed tobacco at a near constant rate, Brent serving as both ashtray and spittoon. “You must be a long lost cousin of mine,” Aaron said to Zach.
“Am I? I don’ remember, fuck pig, suck it–fuck yeah…”
Aaron led Zach and Brent down to the truck, Aaron riding in the bed in a kennel bought for him before they left town, Zach next to Aaron, who filled him in on his new life, and Brent felt the cool air of the highway blow the last remnants of himself apart.