Warning: Gets a bit scummy–felching, slob, light scat.
Fuck, I don’t know where to begin. I don’t…is this even me? Am I even me anymore? I mean, sure, I enjoyed it, I…I wanted all of it, but maybe, maybe the best thing I can do is get it down, get it out of my head.
Gus wanted me to come over for a long weekend, with Sam. He said that Sam needed some special sessions, and that he’d have more fun if I was there too, along with him, helping Gus out with some things. I tried to say no, when he offered, but fuck, he wore me down quick. It was…he has more power over me, I don’t know how else to say it. At first, I mean, that stink, sure, when I was near it, there was nothing I could do, but away from him I felt like I had more autonomy, but the longer I’m with him, the more often we’re together, it’s harder and harder for me to think, harder for me to not do what Gus suggests. Fuck, even taking showers is getting hard, I don’t like them like I used to, I always feel…violated by how clean I feel when I get out, There’s just nothing quite like how sweaty and dirty and musky you are after a good long day at work, you know? When all you want to do is lounge around, lick out your own nasty pits, suck on your socks, and jack off six, seven times in a row. That’s what I do now. That’s what I want to do now, I can’t deny it, but it was Gus–I know he’s making me do this, making me think these things, making me into…into someone else.
This weekend, I was scared, sure. I was nervous. I was on guard as best I could be, for what Gus might try to get me to do. Sam and I finished work and I drove him over, Sam’s face buried in my armpit as I drove, like usual for us now. We got to the apartment, and for the first time ever, Gus’ musk and stench wasn’t the most powerful aroma in the room. Gus, apparently, had been cooking, and cooking a lot. Every piece of real estate in the already filthy kitchen was covered with food, and Gus told me to sit Sam down in the chair at the table and then had me bind him to the frame using the rope he’d left out, and I did as was told. Sam was excited–drooling from his mouth and his cock at the same time, begging for food…and I didn’t know what to make of it. I’d noticed Sam gaining weight lately, but I hadn’t thought much of it, really–because I didn’t want to think about it. My job, I thought, was to keep Sam in check at work–nothing less or more, but I could already tell that this weekend was going to result in a promotion of sorts.
I got him all bound up–including Sam’s hands to the arms of the chair–and Gus told me I could go ahead and get started. I didn’t know what he meant. So Gus, like talking to a child, told me to start feeding the pig. That was…when I tried to object. It didn’t work, of course–Gus came over, and got me all…horny, and soon I was shoving food in Sam’s face, and I was…it was hot, actually. Seeing him scarfing food down, unable to stop, even as his gut started bulging, and I…well, Gus kept encouraging me too. I fed the pig for hours, and eventually Gus stopped me. Sam was so full all he could do was moan. He’d shot his load a couple of times, and I hadn’t even touched his cock once. I was covered with food, and Gus got me out of my clothes, and told me we needed to go out and get dessert.
I thought we were going to the store. No–Gus forced me into some leather gear of his that kind of fit me, and we drove downtown to a sleazy leather bar and…
I don’t know how many it was.
My ass was free for any man who wanted it, and Gus…well, Gus made sure a lot of men wanted it. It hurt–I’d never been fucked before, and after each guy came inside of me, if there was no one right after them, Gus would plug me up with a small, wide dildo, keeping their seed inside me. I…I think a couple of guys even pissed in me. My gut hurt so much–I nearly cried on the ride home, but Gus just told me to be strong, that it was important I not lose Sam’s dessert. We got back, and tipped Sam back, I straddled him so he could lock lips with my hole, and I kept feeding him, and I was so disgusted with myself, but Sam ate all of it, and Gus…fuck, Gus made me like it, I shouldn’t be hard, thinking about that again, but here I am, sniffing my pits and stroking off thinking about that nasty pig sucking all that filth from my hole…
I did it again, the next night. And I was excited that time. I…I suggested it. Gus didn’t have to say anything, I did the work–begging men for their loads in my ass, and this time, the fuller my guts got, the…the sexier I felt, the harder my cock got, the more I looked forward to getting home so I could feed this filth to that nasty pig. The next day, it felt…wrong, not having anything in my hole. Gus fucked me over and over. I…I told him I’d just get started on dessert myself, and left Gus to feed Sam so I could find even more men to fill me up good, yeah, fuck, I…I thought this would help, it’s not helping. I…I miss it. I’ve tried to resist, I didn’t want to go out, but I gotta. I gotta feel it again, and I can’t feed the pig, but maybe…I mean, Gus was telling me how good it tastes, made me…made me clean the pig’s nasty face yesterday while he fucked me good…I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t but I want to. I need to. Fuck. Fuck it, fuck, I gotta get fucked, I don’t–forget it. At least he let me keep the leather gear, right? Just once, just to get it out of my system, and I’ll be good. I can control myself, right?
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