Mr. Morris (Part 4)

The amulet. Grandpa’s amulet. He’d promised me that he’d give it to me, and there it was hanging around my brother’s neck. I was angry for a moment, but then he started talking to me in that same way Grandpa always talks to me…and I calmed down, but I still fought him. I told him that the amulet wasn’t his, that I knew he’d stolen it, that Grandpa had planned on giving it to me, and he laughed. He told me Grandpa had given it to him–that Grandpa had always planned on giving it to him. He said, “Why in the world would he give it to you? You know he thinks you’re just a stupid pig slut.”

And then, right then, there was a seed of doubt. I had these memories, but there were these other ones too, ones I couldn’t quite sort out. I could remember Mr. Morris, I could remember Grandpa how I’d always known him but there was also someone else, someone…very, very different. I refused to believe what my head was telling me, but I started to get dressed. I had to go see him, I had to talk to him and see for myself. My brother thought that was a fine idea–and suggested we both go over together. We snuck out of the house, and I drove us both over to the senior living, went up to Grandpa’s apartment.

The place was a filthy. Before, it had been spotless, but now…now the entire place was littered with trash, and there was a foul odor in the air…the same odor I’d smelled around Grandpa all my life. My old memories were retreating, these new ones were coming forward. I already knew what I’d find in the recliner, slouching in front of the television, but I had to see it for myself. He glowered at me when I entered the room–he’d always despised me, and I’d never known why. He loved my brother though–my slobby, failure of a brother–and why not? Grandpa was a drunk, a smoker, massively obese. He’d never taken care of himself all his life. His hair was matted with sweat, and I don’t think he ever showered, but the worst part was the diapers. He’d been incontinent for years now, and he never changed the ones he was wearing regularly, so he stank like an overflowing toilet all day.

I was furious. My brother had done this to him, to my Grandpa, he’d fucking ruined him, but instead of yelling, and getting angry, I was stripping off my clothes. I was getting down on my hands and knees in front of Grandpa, and he was laughing with that cigar stuck in his mouth, that cackle-wheeze, and my brother was behind me sliding a finger into my hole, telling me that he’d always hated me, hated me for the attention I got from our parents, hated me because everyone wanted my ass, hated me because I was smart and perfect, and that it was past time I’d taken my proper place in this family. I then I heard a dull thwack, and my brother crumpled to the ground, Grandpa standing up from his recliner with a lamp in has hand, huffing and puffing.

As quick as I could, I got the amulet off from my brother’s back. Grandpa told me how he’d attacked him that afternoon, stealing the amulet and fucking him into the filthy slob standing before me. But it hadn’t worked as well as my brother had thought it would, because the amulet can only be used to it’s fullest if it is given, not taken. And so grandpa gave it to me, and when my brother woke up…well…let’s just say I fucked him right in the head. He’s a dumb, stupid pig, but I wasn’t as cruel as the amulet would have liked. It has…quite the mind of its own, but as long as you’re ready for it, it isn’t too much of a problem. My brother spends his days now living at home, serving my father, and then he goes to the senior center and he serves the men there. All of them. He pays special attention to Grandpa of course, but his ass and mouth are available to anyone over the age of fifty-five, and I…well, I went off to college, the amulet still hanging around my neck. I did my best to help grandpa get back to how he was, but the amulet really doesn’t like reversing anything it’s already done. He still has to wear diapers, but he takes it in stride at least–though I think he might rub them in my brother’s face when I’m not around, as punishment. At least, I think that’s something the amulet might have snuck in while I was fucking my brother, but I never really felt like asking for details.

Grandpa made me promise that I wouldn’t use it while I was at school, and so far, after a month, I haven’t. That certainly doesn’t mean that I don’t want to. I have no problem getting cock, of course–pretty much anyone will drop their pants at a word, and all of my professors love me, and my mouth, and my ass, to bits. I just have a way with those older, burly bears, you know? But to be honest, I’m starting to think that what my grandpa doesn’t know, probably wouldn’t hurt him. And I have this guy on my floor–fuck, he’s so damn hot. Huge cock, and he lets me suck him off, but he’s a bit of an asshole, you know? I’m thinking he might need a bit of an attitude adjustment. Just some light conversation is all, nothing extreme. And maybe, if the feeling’s right…well, what’s the harm in one good fuck and a few changes to go with it? I’m sure I can keep everything under control just fine.

Mr. Morris (Part 3)

But I did it. I logged all my community service at the last minute. I finished all my classes with straight B’s for blow job. I got up on that stage, naked underneath my gown, my father’s cum leaking down my thighs. He’d wanted to congratulate me with a fuck in the locker room before the ceremony, and I wasn’t about to deny him that. He actually seemed to be…kind of proud of me. I could dimly remember, before I’d been fucked by Mr. Morris, that my older brother had been a bit of a screw up, that I’d been the better kid, the one with the potential. Now I was just a fat faggot whore, but at least I graduated from high school right? And college! I was going to college.

You have to understand–I’d always felt a bit stifled under my parents roof. My brother, well, he’d started drinking and smoking pot in high school, and they’d sent him to rehab. All my life, I’d had strict curfews, rules, order–and while I never really resented it, I always just wanted to be free, right? And college was the goal. If I could just get to college, if I could just get somewhere else, across the country if possible, I could finally figure out who in the hell I am, away from my family. And even after, I still felt that way. As much as I enjoyed being my dad’s and brother’s fat whore faggot, I knew there had to be more for me out there. More cocks to suck, more old men to fuck my holes. It was a different kind of thirst, I suppose, but it was still there.

And now, now I was almost there. I was graduated. As soon as I could get away, I hurried over to the senior center and found Mr. Morris waiting for me. I could sense that he was excited too, and I tried to get him to tell me what he was planning, but all he told me was that he’d like to fuck me again, and this time would be different. I didn’t care–all I really wanted was his cock in my fat ass. I got that, and more than I even thought possible.

This time, when his cock was inside me, everything was still all swirling around and changing, but this time I could sense that he was in control of it. I, however, still couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on–I was in a stupor just like before, unable to move, while he plowed my hole. But this time, when he came, it’s wasn’t just Mr. Morris cumming in my ass–it was my Grandpa. He’d made me his real grandson, and I was so happy, I couldn’t keep myself from crying.

He hugged me, and I felt that hug reverberate through so many hugs he’d given me in the past, hugs I hadn’t even remembered until now, from when I was a kid, and everything I felt for him just grew even larger. He wasn’t just my lover, he was family. Once we could speak–I was shocked, he was exhausted–he told me that he’d done his best to try and fix some of what he’d done before. The amulet–it doesn’t like to reverse changes, but he’d managed to temper them slightly. He told me it should make for a slightly better summer for me. In fact, it was the best summer of my life.

My dad was proud of me again…though it was different. My brother was still the fat slob screw up that he’d always been and he treated me like shit, but now my dad fucked us both. I could tell he loved me more, because when my dad fucked my brother, it was to punish him, but when dad fucked my hot cubhole, I knew it was because he couldn’t fucking my hot ass. No one could. Hell, I could stare down any old man in the street and give them a tent in their slacks, and I found that most of them, even if I just half-hinted, would happily feed me their cum down some dark alleyway. I loved it. I loved the attention, I loved the sex, I loved my family, all of my family.

Now, all of us would go see grandpa, and usually all of us would end up fucking around all night long. As the summer wore on, I began to notice something else–my brother seemed to be growing kind of distant. He’d always been a bit jealous of the attention I’d gotten, and with me about to go to college on a full ride, so soon after he dropped out after flunking all of his classes–I could tell he was angry at me. He fucked angry too, and more than once he actually hurt me a bit, but I just shrugged it off. I was going to college, and he was just a jealous, failure drop out, and he knew it. Dad and grandpa were so proud of me, and sure, I was going to miss them, but they knew how important this was for me. The summer flew by, and my brother just grew angrier, and angrier, until the night before I was set to leave, when he let himself into my room that evening, something shimmering around his neck, and a nasty looking grin on his fat face.

Mr. Morris (Part 2)

He got up, and he was at least easy on me. He had some lube, and he greased up his fingers, sliding them in, getting me used to the feeling. He was impatient though. I kept asking him to slow down, but he kept pushing me on, two fingers, and then three. I felt so..full, and it kind of hurt. But I wanted it. I’d always wanted it, from the first time I saw him, he’d known how much I wanted his cock in my ass. Reality kept shifting, and it was true. I had wanted him from the first moment I’d seen him. And I wanted him now. I was scared, but I started pushing back, begging him for it. He was breathing heavy now, and I felt the slick head of his cock press against my hole, and then he was inside me again, but this time…this time it was terrifying.

He told me later that he’d lost control of himself, and apologized. I still…still don’t quite remember everything that happened. It was just…there was so much. Like I was caught in a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions and history, some of which was mine, some of which was his, some of which had happened, and a whole lot that hadn’t. It lasted the whole time he fucked me, and I was just in a stupor, face planted in the pillows, while he pounded my ass like a wild man, screaming shit, calling me a fat slut, a whore, his cub bitch. Still, he…did apologize, right? But he said after that there wasn’t much he could do about what might have happened. He couldn’t take it back you see? I forgave him–I loved him too much.

I loved him because…because he was the first man who’d fucked me and treated me like a person, you know?

I did stay the night. He spooned me in bed, and I didn’t really want to leave in the morning. I…didn’t really want to go home, though I couldn’t quite figure out why. I drove home, and I was surprised that my mom wasn’t there…and then I realized that my mom and dad had divorced when I was just a kid, and left me and my brother to live with my dad. And I thought of my dad, and my brother. My big brother, who’d just gotten home from college, and my gut tensed up. I went inside, and tried to get to my room without either of them noticing, but my dad was waiting. He was…different. Fatter, for one. Much, much fatter. And meaner, and drunker. My brother joined him, and he was also chubby, and also drunk, even though it was morning. I told them I was tired, and didn’t really feel like doing anything, but they said that they didn’t care how I felt–they were horny, and I had chores to do.

Suck my dad’s cock. Clean my brother’s feet. Suck my brother’s cock. Get them new beers. Get them more snacks. They didn’t want those snacks, go to the store and get different ones. Clean the kitchen. Make dinner. Go get in the bedroom and lube up. Suck my brother’s cock while my dad fucks my fat asshole. Go to bed. Wake up in the middle of the night. Let my brother fuck my hole. Go back to sleep. Get up. Make breakfast. Suck my dad’s and brother’s cocks while they eat breakfast. Clean up my filthy mess of cum that I’d shot on the kitchen floor like a complete faggot.

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough that afternoon and back to my volunteer work, but mostly back to Mr. Morris. I told him everything. I told him that it didn’t seem right, but I couldn’t stop myself. It just felt…so normal to me. And worse…I liked it. I liked the way my dad and brother had treated me, it had made me feel so hot, and I’d jacked off more in the past day than I could remember–though I made sure to never do it in front of them. Neither of them wanted to see me touch my short faggot cock with them around. As I was telling Mr. Morris all of this, I realized I had my hand down my pants in the common room, stroking my hard cock, and I pulled it out quickly. He seemed embarrassed and worried, but he apologized again and consoled me and I leaned on his shoulder while he stroked my hair. He sucked me off again, and told me that all I had to do was get through the next few weeks, get to graduation, and then he’d have a present for me. A present he he hoped would make things better.

I really did like it, though, and so the next few weeks weren’t nearly as difficult as I had expected them to be. However, I was surprised by just how many men had become accustomed to receiving my services! My school schedule had shifted around, so that I suddenly had all of my classes with the beefiest, chubbiest, oldest male teachers, and I was serving every single one of them. No wonder I had such good grades! I never had time for school work with all of my chore duties at home, so this was really the only way I could hope to get to college. College! I had nearly forgotten. I hurried home, and found that one thing that hadn’t changed was my full ride, thankfully. At least I could get through this summer, and get away from my family then. Well, I’d have to leave Mr. Morris too, and that did make me sad.

And so I spent the last two weeks of my high school career on my knees. Sucking off teachers. Sucking off coaches. Sucking off beefy students. Sucking off my fat dad and brother almost constantly. And sucking off Mr. Morris of course. I kept asking him to fuck me again, but he said that we had to wait. He’d lost control last time–the amulet had…well, he never really explained what exactly had happened when he’d fucked me. All he told me was that he wanted to make damn sure that he got it right next time.

Mr. Morris (Pt. 1)

I procrastinated, I know. One month until I was supposed to graduate from high school, and I still needed fifty hours of community service. I pleaded with my principal to just waive the requirement, but she said her hands were tied–if I didn’t finish, I wouldn’t be able to walk, and I might not even get to go to college in the fall. So there I was–four weeks, fifty hours, twenty hours a week. Luckily, the service coordinator at my school had a suggestion. I wasn’t the first student to put it all off, and a local senior living center liked to have students come in during the evenings and weekends to keep people company. It meant that I would have to volunteer six days of the week, every week, but I’d be able to finish. I thought I’d lucked out–how easy could this be? All I had to do was sit around for a few hours and listen to old people talk. It was going to be so easy.

For a few days, it was easy. Really easy. The staff would pair us up with someone living in the center, and we would join them for dinner (which was free for us) and then have us sit with them for a couple hours after, and then send us home. In fact, some of the people were pretty cool. Then I got paired up with Mr. Morris. He was a bit on the short side, and rather fat with a short, full beard. He seemed a bit younger than most of the people who lived there, and it was a pleasant change from the usual sort of awkward conversation I was used to. I mean, I can’t quite remember what we talked about for the most part, though I do remember his showing me this amulet of his during dinner. He said it had been in his family for generations, but that since he hadn’t had any kids, there was no one he could give it to. It was a rather stunning piece of jewelry, coated with gold and with a number of jewels encrusted in it. Gaudy, maybe, but the way it caught the light…He left it out on top of his shirt all evening, and I just couldn’t quite bear to look away.

I was paired up with Mr. Morris every night after that. The staff just treated it like it had always been that way, even though they had made a point of saying before that they liked to rotate people around as much as possible to keep the experience fresh for everyone. I didn’t mind though–I loved being paired with Mr. Morris. By the end of the second week, I had realized something else–I loved Mr. Morris.

Now this was a bit strange for me. On one hand, I could remember being completely straight, and having a girlfriend, but it was like no one else could remember any of it. When I told Amber that we had dated, she laughed at me, and I did feel a bit foolish. I had come out to here my Freshman year, and we’d been best friends ever since, grading boys, the whole thing. She knew my tastes ran a lot older though, and bit more heavyset than people might find normal. Most of my crushes were on faculty, not on students. The strange feeling only lasted a few days though, and then it was perfectly normal for me, though I found myself acting different around Mr. Morris, my heart fluttering a bit when he put his hand on my knee, and whenever I jacked off, I kept having fantasies about him, only him.

Finally, I couldn’t bear it anymore, and I confessed that I not only loved him, but that…that I wanted him to be my first. I wanted him to be the one to take my virginity. I expected him to be disgusted, but instead he smiled like he’d known all along, the amulet glinting, and he suggested that I tell my parents that I would be staying overnight with a friend on Friday night. Amber covered for me, though when I told her why she was a bit disgusted. My parents knew I was gay of course, so staying over with Amber wasn’t a problem at all for them. In fact…they seemed almost…too ok with the whole thing. Regardless, I joined Mr. Morris for dinner that night, and he was dressed so handsomely, I swooned a bit. He was a perfect gentleman, but with how he kept pawing at my crotch under the dinner table, I knew he wanted it as much as I did. When the staff told us it was time to go, no one said anything when I joined hands with Mr. Morris and followed him to the elevator, and up to his apartment.

Once we were inside, I had no idea what I was doing, but he was gentle, and he kissed me, and…and he was everything I’d ever wanted in a man. He helped me out of my clothes, I helped him out of his. I was scared of sucking his cock, but he said he’d like to suck mine first. I agreed, happily, and he told me to get on the bed. I noticed that even though he was naked, he hadn’t taken off the amulet, and it seemed…excited as well. Like it was catching too much light in the dim apartment lighting.

Now, I suppose I haven’t said too much about myself up until now. I suppose part of the reason is that I was pretty average. Average build, not too muscular, but certainly not fat. Maybe a bit tall and gangly, but what teenager isn’t a little bit? I was smart. I’d gotten into every school I applied to, with even a full ride from one, which was good, because my parents weren’t very well off at all. And there I was, naked, mostly hairless, sitting on Mr. Morris’ bed, and this bear of a man climbed up on all fours, amulet hanging from his neck and shining and all I can think is how lucky I am. Then, he swallows my rock hard cock and…and I can’t even describe it. I’d always felt a connection to Mr. Morris, ever since I’d first met him. But with our first sexual contact…I could feel him…inside me. I swear the amulet was glowing now, but that probably was just my imagination, but Mr. Morris, he was in my body, or exploring my body, or something, and then things started happening. I noticed my stomach start to gurgle, and all of a sudden my flattish stomach was bulging out into a gut, pushing up and out. I…I freaked out, and scrambled away from his mouth, and as soon as his mouth was off my cock, the feeling was gone.

He could see that I was scared, and I asked him what had just happened. He told me…mostly everything. How the amulet could change things, if he wanted them to change. That the closer he got to something, the more he could change them. The whole time, he was rubbing my gut, and I had to admit, it felt really good. Then again, I’d always…kinda wanted to be fat, you know? It seemed natural, after all. I was attracted to fat guys, right? So why wouldn’t I want to be fat too? And maybe…maybe a bit hairier. A proper bear cub. At least…at least, that was how Mr. Morris explained it to me, and it made so much sense. He told me that he could make it happen. That he could make me fat, and no one would know the difference. I was nervous, but how could I say no to him?

I sat back on the bed, heart beating fast, but this is what I wanted, right? I just…couldn’t quite remember it being what I wanted, was the problem. He wrapped his mouth around my cock again, and he was inside me, and my gut was growing, and soon enough it didn’t matter. The gut became too big to really be a gut anymore, and my chest was filling out into fat moobs. I touched my fattening nipples, and they were so sensitive! I could feel cum leaking from my cock like a faucet, but I held off as best I could. I could see my thighs growing wide, my ass spreading out underneath me. My chin was a bit scratchy, and I felt a short beard there. I’d never been able to grow a beard! And there was hair on my chest! I ran my fingers through it, and it was too much for me. I shot my load, and he swallowed it all down, nursing on the head for a moment, before releasing me. I laid back, surrounded by fat, and sighed. I felt like…me. Like a me I hadn’t even known could exist. Like a me that shouldn’t exist. Mr. Morris was looking at me…fuck, he wanted me. I could see it in his eyes, and in his huge, fat, hard cock. I remember what he said next. “Roll over.” It wasn’t a request, he wasn’t asking for permission. I tried to stop myself, I was scared, I didn’t think I could handle anything in my ass, but my body was listening to him, not to me.

Our Demons (Part 4)

He wiggled his toes. He hadn’t been able to do that in a while. His finger uncurled from their fists reluctantly, trying to remember how to work. They felt strange, like they had too much weight to them. The rubber pulled back further, along his arms and legs, and there were some sensations Rich was expecting, but that didn’t happen. He…couldn’t feel any air against his cock, even though the rubber was no longer covering it. It was still buried in…something warm and soft. Without the rubber holding it back, he felt his gut spill out, followed by his chest. He must be fatter, but how much fatter? He wanted to touch himself, he wanted to feel himself, but Master had ordered him to stay still, sitting back on his knees, hands on the floor. Now only the hood was left. Two rough hands…rough. How long since he’d felt skin against his skin? Skin besides the feeling of a hand or a foot in his ass, besides a cock down his throat, or a filthy ass puckered against his tongue? He shivered. His skin got chills after being trapped in the suit for so long, and his entire body felt slimy and clammy with sweat.

The hands pulled the hood free in one movement, and the light was blinding. He hadn’t seen anything since the hood had gone on…days ago? Weeks? He’d been unable to keep track of time. He’d tried to count cigars, he’d tried to count fucks and loads and so many other things to keep his mind busy, but he’d just…sunk in. Accepted it, enjoyed it even. He blinked a few times, and realized he was kneeling in front of a mirror. There was some kind of white blob in the reflection–was that him?

It was him. What in the world was he, even? Fat. He was fat. No wonder he couldn’t feel his cock–it was buried beneath his huge fat apron, between two thighs larger than anything he’d ever seen before. He couldn’t look at it. It was disgusting. He looked up, and caught his own eyes, but his face, even his face was wrong. His mouth seemed too wide, the nose too big, eyes too small. He no longer had anything resembling a neck–his head just dissolved into folds of fatty jowls and chins which cascaded down onto his chest, where two huge moobs shook with every labored breath. His hair was gone–all of it. His entire body was completely smooth, his head, his face, his belly. His skin had lightened to a ghostly, sickly white, and the sheen of sweat all over him only made it worse.

He looked away. He couldn’t look at that. He looked over and down and saw a pair of leather boots, followed them up, and found a massive, six and a half foot tall brute looming over him. Derrick–no, not Derrick was gone, or dead. This no longer even looked like him. His entire body was covered with leather, a crisp, shiny uniform, up to his neck. The face, though. Beneath the thick beard he could see a sharp jawline too angled to be human. In fact, the entire face looked like a crystal with flesh stretched so tight over it it might rip at any moment. He was smiling. He was smiling, and it’s eyes were red, and it’s teeth were sharp, and there were bones pushing through the skin above his eyebrows, blood dribbling from two of the wounds, unnoticed by it.

He needed a cigar. He couldn’t think about any of this. Almost as if he was anticipating him, the brute, the demon, took a thick cigar down, shoved it in Rich’s mouth, and lit it to life. He sucked in the smoke…and realized too late that he had made the final mistake. There was something else in this cigar, something…another it. Another thing like whatever it was in Derrick’s body. He coughed and hacked, trying to force it from his lungs, but his body felt so…heavy all of a sudden. Leaden. It was just so much effort. He slumped to one side, tried to catch himself, but ended up crashing to the floor on his fat side, wheezing.

“Oh Rich, I think you dropped something,” it said, bent down and picked up the cigar and this time jammed it so far down his throat where he lay that he knew he had no choice but to inhale. “Oh Sloth, Mr. Sloth. Do come play with me. I’ve enjoyed the mortal, I truly have, but oh how I long for a filthy, filthy Sloth…”

Rich was trying to fight, trying to rationalize with whatever it was inside of him, but while Derrick had at least been able to reason with the Wrath now inhabiting him, Sloth was unreason. Rich would plead, but pleading was too much effort, wasn’t it? In fact, why think at all? Why bother with a mind? It was mindless, it was acidic. Every effort he made against it simply dissolved. It was irrelevant. Useless. The ego is useless. He was useless. Yes…why even exist at all? That was the question he suddenly had to face. Why exist?

Rich was too exhausted to answer. There was no answer, really. He could see that now. It would be easier, really. So much easier to just stop fighting. He sighed, and let the demon inside of him run amok. His memories dissolved, his desires fled. What was he even? A voice? A will? What was a will in the face of utter sloth?

Wrath watched eagerly, as the cigar burnt down. He could see the light in Rich’s eyes dimming, the iris’ and whites dimming to greys and then to deep tar black, without any reflection at all. The cigar burned to ash, and the mouth hungrily chomped it to bits and swallowed it down. “Wrath….Wrath……Fuck…hole…….” the blob managed to say, with a voice something between a whisper and a gargle.

“Oh you piece of filth, I know what you want,” Wrath said, and rolled it over. It was so heavy suddenly! But he found the hole, sucking and hungry at the rear, drooling some foul smelling filth down the crack, and shoved his fist in as deep as he could with a deep howl.

Our Demons (Part 3)

“Swallow it,” the voice said, the first he’d heard in hours, and without questioning it, he started chewing the butt into a paste and swallowed it down. “This one too,” the voice said, and a second hot butt dropped into his mouth. A bit bigger, and he had a harder time choking it down. There was a pressure on his chest, his master straddling him again, and a hot, bitter liquid started flowing into his mouth. “Drink it all.” He did, and it helped wash down the butt as well. A few gulps in, he realized it must be master’s piss, but he couldn’t stop now, he couldn’t stop ever. As soon as he’d swallowed it all, another cigar was shoved into the mouth ring, but Rich didn’t need orders this time–he craved it already. Needed it. It was wrong, and yet already he knew he’d lost. What was he becoming? He realized he couldn’t quite bring himself to care–and when master went back to stretching his pig hole, all the concerns melted away all over again.

“Don’t resist. Move only how I direct you to move.”

He felt the restraints on his arms and legs being removed, and then two hands helped him roll over onto his back. Every order gave him another surge of pleasure–it was hard to keep himself focused on the fact that he shouldn’t be obeying, that he should try to get away. But get away how? He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. He didn’t know where to go. It was easier to just obey. So much easier to obey everything Master said.

His arms were again pulled up and secured to the top of the bed, but his legs were stretched up to the ceiling in wide split, his ass exposed and hanging slightly off the edge of the bed. He could feel that the rubber had covered his entire ass, however–did that mean he was going to be spared his fisting? Then he realized that the fist shaped dildo was still lodged in his ass, sealed in by the rubber, and he started to squirm.

“Calm down.”

He did. Nothing happened for a few moments, or rather, he wasn’t aware of anything happening. He still couldn’t see or hear, all he could do was breathe through his mouth, and lie there on the bed, legs thrown up in the air. Then, he felt something shove it’s way into the hole. It wasn’t a gag–if anything, the end felt dry and tasted somewhat bitter on his tongue. Breathing was suddenly like trying to get all of his air through a straw–possible, but it took much more effort than he would have liked.

He felt something by the side of his head, and he could hear again, but only on one side. It spoke to him again, “There, isn’t that better for all of us? I’m sure you’ll be much more agreeable from now on, in that nice suit of yours. And I haven’t forgotten my promise earlier, but before I start fisting your ass into a crater, how about we light you up, piggy?” Rich heard a lighter flick to life, and suddenly he was inhaling smoke. He tried to cough, but with no where for the air to go, he found himself choking in the rubber. “Calm down,” it said, “Inhale. Breathe in deep, and it’ll be just like breathing air for you soon enough.”

Rich didn’t exactly have much of a choice, but he did as the voice said, and did his best to breathe normally. After a minute, he was feeling a bit lightheaded, but otherwise it seemed normal–and that worried him more than anything else.

“Good job little pig. We’re gonna fill you up with so much smoke that you won’t even recognize yourself pretty soon. But don’t worry, I’m not gonna fuck around with that little head of yours just yet. Derrick’s already dying off you know. Pretty soon it’ll just be the two of us. Think of all the fucking fun we’re gonna have, pig! Now I’m gonna close your ear back up–all I want you to focus on is smoking that fat cigar, and how good it’s gonna feel having my forearm buried in that fat ass of yours.”

He felt the rubber seal itself up again, and once more, there was silence. He tried to force the cigar out of his mouth, but it had been lodged in so tight he couldn’t budge it. Besides, that would be bad. Master had wanted him to smoke it. Focus on smoking and how good it’s gonna feel to be fisted. The rubber parted down his ass crack–he could feel the air on his sweaty crack–and the dildo slid out of his hole easily, and almost immediately, he felt three or four fingers worm his way into his ass. He was feeling so hot, all of a sudden, and he could feel himself sweating inside the suit. Hot and…and horny. The smoke was getting to his head, he couldn’t quite get enough air. In the darkness, he felt his head spinning from the lack of oxygen, but Derrick’s fist breaking past his sphincter refocused him and…and it felt good. It felt so fucking good. He moaned around the cigar in his mouth, and Master must have heard him, because he shoved his hand in deeper.

Rich tried to tell himself that this was all wrong, tried to fight past the sensation and the orders and the sheer pleasure he was feeling, but after a few minutes he relaxed back, and just let Master pummel his hole. The first orgasm came over him like a soft wave, the rubber sucking the cum from him, and minutes later, there was another one just as intense. Master had grown bored, or simply satisfied with how loose the pig’s hole had become, and started punch fucking him, and then worked both fists in. Rich suddenly felt the cigar butt give way into cinders–he had smoked it to the root. It was hot and burned his tongue, but he couldn’t get it out–he doused it with saliva, cooling it as quickly as he could.

Our Demons (Part 2)

“Look, I’ll just be gone for a few hours, nothing to worry about, really.”

“Please, just untie me, just let me go.”

Derrick looked at Rich with a bit of pity, but also fear, “I would, but it wouldn’t want me to. Besides, you’re helping me out so much! Really, you are.”

“Derrick, this isn’t you, you have to stop smoking those things. Can’t you see what they’re doing to you? You’re becoming a freak, man? A fucking faggot.”

“I’m not a fucking faggot!” Derrick yelled, “You’re the fucking faggot here, you fucking bitch, just for that, when I get back, I’m gonna shove my whole fucking fist in that hole of yours, got it? I’m gonna make you scream like a fucking whore.”

Rich just shook his head, but Derrick grabbed the cock shaped gag on the bed pillow, shoved it back in his mouth, and strapped it around the back of his head. After fucking his face for what felt like hours on the couch, Derrick had dragged Rich into the bedroom, and bound him belly down and spread eagled on the bed. He went over, grabbed the biggest dildo from the collection that had appeared on the dresser. It was shaped like a fist, not a cock, and Rich pleaded with him through the gag.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, but it’ll help. I’m gonna fist you when I get back, and this will get you a bit looser,” Derrick said, and then his voice hardened, “No lube though–I’m gonna shove it in raw, so you can get used to the pain, piggy.” Derrick had already spent most of the afternoon fucking him repeatedly, but the fist was something else. He screamed into the gag, but as soon as he did, he felt a searing pain in the small of his back, as Derrick smashed the butt of his burning cigar into his flesh, “You know how I feel about screaming, fucker! Shut your fucking trap.” Rich bit down and sucked on the gag in his mouth, anything to distract from the pain of his stretched hole, and then Derrick stood back up. “You should make sure that stays in there. I don’t know what it might do to you if it falls out by the time I get back. I’ll try to hurry, I promise. I just gotta get some more cigars, and maybe…maybe some other stuff, is all. I’ll be back soon.”

Soon ended up being four hours later. Thankfully, Rich got used to the pain rather quickly, but the sheer boredom of his position wore on him more than anything. He tried calling for help, he tried wrenching at the handcuffs holding him to the bed, but nothing budged. Instead, all he could do was think about what in the world was happening to Derrick. He’d already been trapped here for over a day–no one had heard them, no one had come to check on them. Rich lived alone and worked from home–it would be days before anyone realized he was missing, and who knew what might happen before then? At first, he just thought Derrick was going crazy–he kept referring to an “it,” like there was something else inside of him–but as the day had worn on, he was growing more and more sure it was those new cigars of his. Rich thought it was that other voice, the cruel voice, the abuser. Whatever it was, it scared Rich to death–and Derrick was scared of it too. He tried to sleep for a bit, but whenever he did, he could feel his body start pushing the dildo out, so he stayed awake, forcing himself to clench his ass down on the dildo–or clench it as best he could. As terrified as he was of whatever might come next, he was still happy to hear the door open, and the heavy trod of Derrick’s boots.

“Hey, piggy,” he said when he came into the bedroom–but this was a new voice. It was closer to Derrick’s, but tough, raspier, “Fuck, I needed that. I feel so much fucking better, you know? Turns out, those first cigars were just meant to get me started. The guy gave me these new ones, and fuck! They pack such a kick. I can’t wait to get my fist in that hole of yours, it’s gonna be fucking amazing. You’re such a good piggy friend, you know that? What the fuck would I do without you?” Derrick sat down on the bed looking down at Rich’s spread eagle body. “I told him about you, you know? He thinks you’re such a good friend, helping me out like this, that he had a present for you. You see, I told him that you’re still fighting a bit, and he suggested that what I really needed was a better way to keep you under control, and I fucking agreed, you know? If you just did what I fucking told you, then all this would go so much smoother. Thankfully, he had just the fucking thing for you. But here’s the thing. I have to take out your gag, so remember,” and here his voice shifted, and it came back, that deep snarl, “If you scream or shout, I will choke the fucking life from your lungs.”

Derrick pulled something black from the bag–Rich had no idea what it was. He unlatched the gag from his head and pulled it out. To scream or not to scream? He was caught in a moment of indecision, while Derrick fiddled with the black object. A mask? A hood? Before he could get anything out, his friend pulled the hood over his head. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t breathe. The rubber pressed against his nose and mouth, tight, as he sucked against it, trying to get air, and just when he thought he might faint, the rubber opened up, pushed into his mouth, and hardened, forcing him to keep his jaw wide spread. He felt it with his tongue–a hard, inch wide, rubber ring had appeared out of nowhere, then he noticed something else–he could feel something running down his neck and onto his chest. He wanted to see what was happening, but he couldn’t see anything. He realized he couldn’t hear anything either, until Derrick spoke. The voice was almost too loud–like it was coming from inside his own head.

“Just relax. Let the rubber cover you.”

He felt his body slump down into the bed. It was rubber then. He could feel it running up his arms now, reaching his hands, but instead of forming gloves, the rubber massed around his hands, forcing them to form fists that he couldn’t open no matter how hard he tried. The rubber kept going down his body, covered his cock and balls in a mass of rubber so thick he didn’t think he’d be able to feel anything, and then down his legs to his feet, which formed into thick, rubber soled boots. He felt two fingers shove their way into his mouth, followed by a single word in his mind, “Lick.” He did, unable to stop himself, and felt the area around his cock start pulsing and sucking on his cock and balls, sending bolts of pleasure through him. Then a cock, another brutal face fuck, and now there was nothing Rich could do. He’d been turned into a hole. He hadn’t imagined that this could get any worse–but now he realized that this might just be only the beginning.

Our Demons (Pt. 1)

“I’m sorry, I know…I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

Rich groaned again, trying to blink the haze from his head. He could remember Derrick calling him. He’d sounded like he was in trouble, and of course Rich was willing to help, but when he’d arrived, Derrick hadn’t answered his knocks, but the door was unlocked. He opened it and stepped inside, when someone had slammed him up against the wall, hands wrapped around his neck, and he’d passed out.

“I just…You see, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you today, and I knew you were at the gym, and just, fuck, I have to stop, I have to stop smoking this but it tastes so fucking good, you don’t understand.”

Rich tried to move, but his hands had been tied together, his feet as well. He was lying on the couch in Derrick’s apartment, gagged, and there was something around his neck, something tight like a collar. He tried to speak, but there was a length of rope wrapped around his head several times, forming a rather effective gag.

“I know that this probably isn’t very comfortable. I just had to use what I had on hand, I mean, I…but fuck, you look hot, tied up. Hell, you look hot anyway, you always look hot, fuck. And you smell…fuck, you smell so good after a workout—did you know that? I’d…I’d smelled you before, but not like this, fuck, not like this.”

Rich looked over and saw his friend had the jock he had worn to the gym in his hand. Looking down, he realized that he had been stripped of his shorts, and was naked aside from his tight, spandex shirt. Derrick took the cigar he was smoking from his mouth and pressed Rich’s jock to his nose, taking a deep, snorting grunt, pawing at his crotch as he did. He realized then that his friend wasn’t looking quite like he usually looked. He had a thick, bushy goatee for one thing, and he was dressed head to toe in leather. Derrick had hated leather—what in the hell was he doing wearing all this shit now?

“I…I do need your help though, man. I really do. I just…I just had to tie you up to make sure you listened to the whole story, alright? Yeah…yeah, that’s…all, really.” Derrick looked away and took a long drag off his cigar, the jock still balled up in his other hand. “I did a stupid thing, you know? I guess it didn’t seem stupid at the time. I went into this smoke shop, for a new bong, right? I broke mine last weekend, whatever. But instead of a pipe, I let this guy sell me these cigars. And I can’t stop smoking them, but they’re changing me, Rich, I think they’re turning me into some kind of faggot. All this leather gear replaced all my clothes, and I’m so fucking furry. I’m older too! It’s some freaky shit. You gotta help me. I think…I think if I just…just get it out of my system, it’ll all be fine, right? That’s how it works, I think. And I’m just curious, so…so…”

He gripped the jock nervously, and then got down on his knees next to Rich’s head, who shook his head no, but Derrick was just staring at him.

“This was a bad idea. You…you shouldn’t have come over.”

Rich tried to pull away, but his friend hooked two fingers in the already tight collar and pulled him closer. He was sniffing the air, and then he took out the cigar, leaned in, and licked the side of Rich’s face. A long lick, from jaw to scalp.

“I just…gotta get it over with.”

He put the cigar back in his mouth, and started running his hands over his friend’s chest and stomach. Rich tried to pull away, tried to block him with his bound fists, but Derrick just worked around his protests.

“I knew it had to be you, it just had to.”

He yanked at the spandex a couple times, until it ripped, and then he tore the shirt off Rich’s body in tatters.

“I knew it, I didn’t want to admit it but fuck, look at you. Fucking smell you.”

Rich tried to scream when Derrick started twisting his nipples.

“Shut the fuck up! Shut your fucking mouth, you fucking slut, or I’ll give you something to scream about!”

They both froze. That voice wasn’t Derrick’s, and they both knew it. Derrick let go and fled into the kitchen, Rich could hear him pacing the length in his leather boots, smoking his cigar. He looked around for some way to escape, some way to free himself, but before anything came to him, Derrick emerged.

“I’m sorry man, I’m sorry. I lost…control for a second. But everythings alright, I got this, I got this all under control.” then, immediately that same deep, powerful voice from before, “Yeah pig, I got you right where I fucking want you.”

Rich tried to roll off the couch, but Derrick caught him and pushed him back into the crack, and then climbed on him, straddling him in his leather pants. He unzipped the fly, and pulled his cock out. “Look man, look…just…just suck me off. Just do it. Do it, and…and I’ll let you go.”

Rich shook his head, sobbing now.

“No no no! Really! Really really, I promise, just suck my cock. Please, before it comes back, it’s always worse when I’m horny, just suck me off, and I’ll untie you, and we’ll forget any of this ever happened.”

He reached up and untied the knot, unravelling the rope gag. When Rich could speak again, he screamed. “I’m not going to suck you fucking cock! Help! Help, somebody—”

Derricks hands grabbed his throat and crossed thumbs over his windpipe. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe at all, he couldn’t—

“Listen pig,” that deep, terrifying voice, “Listen good. You scream again? I’ll choke the life out of you. If I feel any fucking teeth? I’ll pull them all out. Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna choke on my fucking cock. You’re gonna gag on this motherfucker, I’m gonna fuck your motherfucking face with it, and there ain’t shit that you can do about it, because I will kill you. I’ve never fucked a corpse before—but if you wanna be my first, then fucking fine by me.”

The hands loosened enough that he could gasp, and then he nodded, still sobbing.

Derrick sat back, blinking, not entirely sure what had just happened, but Rich was nodding, and so he scooted up, straddling his friend’s neck, and Rich let him slide his cock into his mouth. He lost track of himself after that, he just had to fuck, and fuck rough. He could hear Rich choking and gagging underneath him, but it probably wasn’t anything to worry about, right? Rich was such a good friend, helping him out like this. Maybe once he came, he’d be willing to help him out with a few other…things he’d been thinking about lately.