Each month, I’m going to be taking suggestions from people supporting my writing on Patreon, and turn those suggestions into stories! I might publish one or two here, but if you want to read the other ones, you can go here. Anyone giving at least a dollar can give suggestions, and see the resulting stories, and pledging $5 or $10 gets you even more exclusive content! Find out more on my page here.
I bet he won’t even recognize you, you fucking pig.
Warren got off the train, feeling his body shaking and quaking with each step down to the platform–and all he wished was that it didn’t feel…so fucking good, all of the time.
You love it piggy, you can admit it. You couldn’t stop now, even if I hadn’t made myself such a cozy nest in your little soul.
His cock had been rock hard the entire train ride, just from squeezing into the small seat with the older man beside him, knowing he was taking up too much room, that the man was disgusted by him–all he’d been able to do, or all the demon had allowed him to do, was take six trips to the bistro car, where he’d stuff himself, and then go to the bathroom to jack his cock, before returning to his seat, sweatier and heaving for breath, before the whole cycle would repeat itself. It was a nightmare, but it was no longer anything new for him.
He hadn’t always been this large–375 pounds when he’d last weighed himself, or when he’d last been forced to weigh himself. He could barely believe that just four months earlier, he’d been 160 pounds, a normal, healthy college student. He still didn’t know how it had happened, but one morning a few months before, he’d woken up in his dorm room, as usual, and there…had been a voice in his head. He’d known that it wasn’t his own, but he found himself helpless against it–if the voice told him to do something, then he would obey–and from that day forth, all the voice wanted him to do was eat. At first, if he fought, he’d be able to resist and go to class or go to the gym, but as the voice promised, these moments of rebellion were always repaid with substantial punishment. Warren, who had always been straight, found himself hungry for cock as much as he was for food. He was forced into humiliatingly ill-fitting clothes, his growing gut dropping lower and lower below the bottom of his shirt–for he was packing on pounds faster than should be humanly possible.
But now, the moment he’d been dreading most was here–he was home for the summer, where he’d be living with his dad for the next three months, and if there was one thing his father had always hated, it was fat fucks like his son had become.
I bet, when he finally does recognize you, he’s going to hate you so much. He’s going to be so disgusted by you, you won’t even be able to stop yourself from cumming in the front of those tight shorts you’re wearing…and you’re going to make sure he knows what his piggy son just did, too, aren’t you?
It wasn’t even speaking in orders or demands anymore–just the mere suggestion was enough to fill Warren’s mind with the most perverse of fantasies. Sure enough, once he’d gotten into the station with his bag, he’d seen his muscular father waiting for his slim, handsome son. Warren walked right in front of him, and he didn’t give him a second look. “Hey dad, ready to get going?” he asked, mouth a bit dry in anticipation.
The look of horror on his father’s face, at seeing his son was now over twice the size he should have been, was–true to the demon’s word–humiliating, and yet so satisfying. With a nice, loud groan, he shot a load of cum into his shorts, and then pulled his father into a hug, grinding his soft groin against him, until his father’s recoiled away from him, unable to even form words.
Needless to say, his father was furious, yelling and shouting at him the whole way home, the demon chuckling in Warren’s mind the whole time. His father told him he was utterly disgusting, that he was a shameless display of gluttony. Warren very nearly started jacking off right there, the demon urging him gently, but only the sheer horror at his father seeing him do such a thing stayed his desperate hand. His father told him Warren was going on a diet, his father was going to be supervising every meal, and he would have his son back in shape in no time–the demon just laughed, and laughed, and laughed, because the demon had other plans, that night.
Warren, awoke shortly after midnight, feeling like he was either sleepwalking or dreaming. He’d become somewhat used to this sensation–it occurred whenever the demon took full control of his body and mind, forcing Warren to become little more than a passenger in his own flesh. It happened rarely now, usually only when Warren needed severe punishment, and he began to worry.
Oh Piggy, you still think this is about you, don’t you? No–you have your father to blame for this. All of it. You were merely the first piece of a larger puzzle. Don’t worry, you’ll very much enjoy what comes next. This is going to be the summer of your piggy dreams.
The demon guided his body into his father’s room, far more stealthily and gently than his massive frame should have been capable of, and…he didn’t remember the details of what came next. He spoke these strange words in a language that seemed…impossibly complex, the words so hot they singed his lips. He swore he saw…something slip into his father’s body, causing him to stir–and then his dad got up from his bed, gave Warren a wink, got dressed and left the house, driving away in the middle of the night. Whatever it was, the demon was happy–he allowed Warren to gorge himself on whatever he could find in the house, and then Warren passed out on the couch, snoring away, until the slamming of a door, woke him with a start.
“SSoooeeeyy! Where’s my little piggy boy?”
It was his father’s voice, but it was not his father speaking. Warren only had time to heave himself up from the couch, before his father was in the room, bearing a pile of pizzas and at least ten bags from fast food joints around the city. That wasn’t the only thing different, either. He’d left the house in fairly normal clothes, but was now dressed head to toe in leather, his hair cropped short, stubble across his face, his eyes both excited and terrified. He knew that look–he’d seen it in his own eyes many times in the last few months. His father was possessed, just like him.
Yes, the deal required a friend of mine from far below. Quite sadistic and lustful, but with a gluttonous side as well. You’ll be enjoying him a lot, I promise.
His father dropped the food onto the coffee table, shoved Warren back onto the couch, and started ripping and tearing off his tight clothes until his son was naked, and then his possessed father began making out with him–kissing him, worshiping his fat body.
Yeah, look at that sick fuck–look how much he loves you now. How much he needs your fat by him. Piggy–your new daddy here is going to make sure you have everything you need from now on. Plenty of rough fucks and long feeding sessions, and loads and loads of cum for your thirsty piggy throat. We’ll feed him too–you’ll like that, won’t you? Stuffing your skinny father’s face until he’s the size you are now? Of course, by then, you’ll be well on your way to at least 700–but that excites you, doesn’t it? It’s probably all you want at this point–to be massively obese, and get fucked every day by your daddy’s big cock.
Warren had already lunged for the food, taking a hamburger for himself first, and then taking a second and shoving it in his father’s face, watching his eyes roll back in pleasure from the taste.
And when you’re both well past the point of no return? Well, then we’ll have fulfilled our bargain. And you’ll never hear from me again. You won’t be able to stop, of course, so don’t imagine you could ever get your body back. But most importantly, I don’t think your father will be bothering anyone about their weight again, any time soon, do you?
Bracken's Corner 