The Catcall Curse (Part 5)

“Come on now, don’t be scared–don’t you want to play with a nasty pig like me?”

Fuck, did he ever. Jack quivered, the energy building up inside of him. He’d never really been able to have that much control over, whatever power this was. All he’d ever really been able to do was point it in someone’s direction, give it an idea to go on, and then push–but it was moments like these that terrified him the most, because this was when he realized how little control he had. This would kill him one day, this energy–he could feel it–but at that moment, all he felt was life and vigor throbing in every bit of his body. There was too much light up close and too much dark at a distance, like his vision was scrubbing away everything that wasn’t this…this sexy, disgusting pig in front of him. But he had to fight it. This had already gone too far, no one deserved this. He could feel what the spell wanted, but it needed more from him to make it happen. If he could just get away before it got anything else out of him, then it would lose strength eventually. However, getting away was going to be…difficult.

“Well? Why are you just standing there? Go on, say something, talk dirty to me, tell me what a disgusting fucker I am, I want to hear it.”

“Please…I know you want this, but…but pick someone else, anyone else. You don’t want me,” Jack said, but even as he said it, he knew reason would fall deaf in this space. Curses spoke a twisted logic all their own–the pig had no time for this. But more than that, the spell was…angry. Not that spell could feel emotions, but it could sense him pushing against it, and it was more than ready to push back.

“Oh, but look at you daddy. You obviously came to play tonight. I love a man in uniform–are you here to punish me, officer?” The pig ran a finger down the front of Jack’s leather uniform shirt, tight against his body. Hadn’t…he been wearing something more casual, earlier? It was the spell–it was trying to weaken his resolve, and it was working. The pig started groping Jack’s cock through the tight leather breeches he was wearing, and he groaned, precum leaking into the gap between skin and leather. “Such a big tool, and you don’t want to use it? Am I not naughty enough for you, sir?”

“No–No, I’m not going to fall for this. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“What’s that, daddy?”

“You’re…it’s not going to work, you…stupid pig.”

“Fuck, I am stupid, aren’t I, sir?”

“So fucking stupid, no fucking brains at all. The only thing a pig like you is good for is as a couple of holes for big fucking cocks,” Jack said, his voice turning to a snarl. No, what was he saying? He shook his head, and forced himself to take a step back, ignoring how…hard his cock had gotten saying that. “No, I can fight this. Have some fucking will, Jack!” He said to himself.

The pig laughed, “You don’t have any fucking will daddy. Big fucking stupid brutes like you only know how to do two things–drool, and fuck. Look at that fucking body of yours, every bit of you stuffed with testosterone. No room in that skull for brains. You won’t have any fucking will when I’m done with you,” the pig said, it’s voice dropping into a lower register which made Jack shiver with terror and lust, but the words he said kept reverberating in him. He tried to fight, but he didn’t know how, his body expanding, coating itself with hair, every thought draining from his mind aside from a deep, endless desire to fuck. With one hairy forearm the brute wiped drool from it’s beard, and snarled.

“Fuckin’ pig, damn slut, bend the hell over, gotta fuckin’ plow you!”

He was so…big all of a sudden. Nothing felt right, or was he just clumsy? It didn’t fucking matter, not anymore. He slammed the pig down onto a table and yanked his cock free, ramming it deep, fucking like a beast, huffing and roaring, spittle flying everywhere, pushing his energy out now. Had to fucking punish this pig. This pig was nothing, this pig was property, this pig was worthless! Now there really was a vortex around them, the men surrounding them could feel the curse pulling at their lives, their will, their souls. The room started to bend and warp, shifting and changing into something entirely new, Jack powerless to stop it, powerless to do anything at all. The pig beneath him was shifting as well, changing into…into something. It was coming from him, some image, but he couldn’t keep it straight, all he knew was to fuck, to punish, to brutalize, to mark, to humiliate.

He exploded, at some point. He came, and the spell sucked the last bit of energy from him that it needed, and finally completed itself, the leather bar slowly coming back into focus, no man in the room unchanged at this point, but all Jack could do was keep fucking, and fucking, and fucking.

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