He could feel Howie groping his fat tits while his son, Stew, sucked the last few drops of piss from the head of his cock, and then started sucking on the fat head. He could feel Pete stroking his cock while he watched his own father fist his cousin’s tight hole. He could feel Stew’s ass clench tight around his own fist. They were all one. They were all one with the spirit in the smoke surrounding them, and with a cry, all four of them came, sealed away in their new fate–four slaves to the spirit of the smoke which had infested Doug that night, and the thick haze in the house finally began to disperse, allowing them all to see Stew, their final member, in between them all.
He was fatter than the rest of them–even Howie–large enough that his gut hit the ground where he was on his knees, mouth still wrapped around his dad’s cock, sucking hard, making sure he sucked down every drop of cum to go with the piss swilling around in his gut. Their history had shifted as well–now, the prostitute Howie and Doug had fucked had brought twins, and the two of them had raised the boys in their…respective fashions. Where Pete was turning into a handsome muscle cub, taking after Doug, Pete had learned to indulge his greed and gluttony, just like his father. Howie leaned back, moaning, a thick cloud of smoke escaping his mouth as he did, and Doug could feel how close his brother was. He walked over, straddled his nephew’s back and started tugging on his brother’s tits, knowing just how to push him over the edge, feeling how happy the spirit was inside them all, now that it had a family again, a family like it had had before.
Of course, it hadn’t been a family quite like this one–Bandgar had gotten into a fight with a rough biker gang one night, and as he’d always been able to do, he turned them into a single spirit of smoke, and absorbed them into his body, where he’d begun warping and twisting them into something else. Bandgar liked to think of the spirits he made as gifts, and this spirit was a gift he’d decided to give to Douglas after that concert. Doug couldn’t be more thankful–he was alive again! He’d forgotten what it had been like, to be alive, and made of flesh, and how good it felt to cum in one of his boys’ nasty fucking holes. He–no, they needed to thank him.
“Keep playing you dirty fucks,” Doug said, “I gotta check a message.” He went upstairs and found his phone–or Douglas’ phone, rather. He wasn’t…quite the spirit, but he wasn’t quite Doug either. He was someone new–someone better. Something better, actually, because he couldn’t forget that he wasn’t alone here. Sure enough, Bandgar had sent him a message–a link to the band’s touring schedule, and that night they were playing in a big city one state over–close enough that they could make it if they ride all day. Of course, to do that, they’d need bikes. His family had to ride hogs, right?
He went back downstairs, and felt the rest of his family falling into yet another smoky orgy, but with a few smacks upside the head, he set they straight. They had to get on the road, and they had to get going soon. The smoke in the house had thinned somewhat, but hadn’t dissipated–it had been waiting, it seemed for the thought to form that they needed to leave, and it starts to swirl around each of them. It wasn’t like before, where they’d been swallowed up–this time it stuck to them and became clothing–and like their identical tattoos, all four of them were dressed in the same basic outfit–ragged jeans and leather chaps, boots, leather vests with no shirts. The two boys had on collars, of course, showing their place in the hierarchy below their fathers. They headed for the door, and the rest of the smoke followed them, flowing out into the late afternoon sun and forming a cloud on the driveway. It faded away after a minute or so, revealing four old Harley’s–the men all headed for them, instinctively knowing which of them was theirs, and with a cry from Doug, they all drove off, abandoning their house, and their lives, without a second thought.
It had been a decent gig, and tear-down was going smoothly–smoothly enough that Ned felt he could justify taking a break for a cigar outside, while the rest of the crew got shit wrapped up. He wondered how that kid from the night before was getting on–from the sound of his message that morning, the spirit he’d been working on had been…vigorous. Still, those were the best kind, in the end. The kid might not have deserved it, but fuck, Ned had been horny, and having the four of them hanging around in his head had been getting a bit tiresome. It was time to start a new project, but to do that, you gotta get rid of the old shit first.
He stepped out into the alley, cigar out, when he saw them–four hulking men standing beside four Harley’s, smoking cigars and watching the door. “There you are, ya fucker!” one of them shouted, and ran for him. Ned braced himself–depending on how things had settled he was either about to get punched, or…well, something a bit more pleasant, hopefully.
It was a kiss–a nice smoky one, though it didn’t last long enough for Ned’s liking. “Heh, guess the day went well for you. Got the family back together?”
“Sure fucking did! All four of us. I–We…fuck man, what ya fuckin’ did tah us–we’re so fuckin’ happy to be out again man. We owe ya a nice long night before we hit the road again, what do ya say? You wanna fuck around with four dirty fuckin’ biker bears?”
It sounded like a real good time to Ned–he was getting good at this. He lit his cigar, and hauled open the door, “Hey boys! I gotta take off. I’ll see ya in the morning before we leave!” A few guys complained at the boss ditching work, but Ned didn’t give a shit–he was following Doug over to his family for introductions, and then climbed on with him and rode off for a night of sex with his creations, before sending them off again in the morning. Still, he had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time he met up with the four of them–after all, the highways could be a surprisingly small place, when you’ve been on them as long as Ned had. He reached around and groped Doug’s hard cock, admiring the size, and knew he was in for quite the ride himself later that night.
Bracken's Corner 