I want to take a short break from “Pigtown Prison” to announce that the monthly Patreon suggestions have been written and are ready for download! Anyone who contributes at least one dollar a month can both contribute suggestions each month, and read the results! I hope you all enjoy them. To give you all a sense of what these little snippets look like, here’s one from last month I enjoyed a lot, a sequel of sorts to “Asslickers Inc.” from last year.
The Attention Whore
“There aren’t that many left–which one should we use on him?”
“This one?”
“No way–Robbie used one that looked a bit like that…and you know how Robbie is now.”
The group of young, bearish men all nodded and agreed at that. Beside them, bent over the table and tied down was Officer Clyde Bucksworth, who had responded to a noise complaint at the house an hour earlier. He’d assumed it was just a frat party getting a bit out of control, like usual–not a big problem. Hell, he’d pledged this frat back when he was in college, so he was on a first name basis with almost all of the guys in the house. However, as soon as he’d pulled up…something had seemed off about the whole thing, and when the door had opened letting him see what was happening inside…he’d freaked out. All of the straight laced, jockish young men he’d known well were gone–or if not gone, they were twisted somehow. He could recognize a few, but most were entirely different people now–hairier, beefier, older in a lot of cases, and without exception, they’d all become faggots. He’d pulled his tazer, and stepped inside, but someone had knocked him out before he could do much of anything, and now he was here, naked, tied over the edge of a table, surrounded by men he didn’t recognize, watching them play with a selection of six or seven dildos laid out on the table in front of him.
“What the fuck happened to you guys? This–you aren’t faggots!” Clyde said.
The men all laughed.
“That’s what we thought too!”
“Don’t worry–you’ll understand soon enough, just like we all did.”
They settled on their choice in due time–and Clyde struggled harder when he saw the tool. It was at least ten inches long and covered with what looked like metal studs and rings, including one that looked like a PA in the head. It was called “The Attention Whore,” and it promised to make the man who used it into the sort of freak people would gawk at, day or night.
Clyde begged and screamed, but they lubed the toy up and started pushing it against the officer’s virgin hole–to his surprise, it slid in easily, and it actually felt…kind of pleasant. The men took turns fucking him with it, and soon he was moaning a bit, trying to avoid thinking about how hard his cock had gotten all of a sudden.
“That;s it, don’t fight–it’s going to be great. You’ll see.”
He could feel the metal bits rubbing against the inside of his colon, making him shudder–but then they started to loosen as the asslicker dissolved, and he could feel the balls and rings inside him…pushing their way through him. It hurt–but not as much as when they started pushing their way out of his body after a couple of minutes. Most of them had found their way to his cock and balls, and he cried out in pain as they pushed through his skin, though it healed up immediately afterwards. His balls looked like a pincushion, and the PA from the dildo was far too large for the head of his leaking cock. His nipples received doorknockers of similar size, and the ring in his septum was even larger, hanging down to his mouth. Eyebrows, ears, lips, tongue–none had been spared.
The men could see the next layer emerging below the outer metal–a swirl of black ink against a field of deep red shaft, almost the color of raw steak. In fact, he could taste it–sweet blood on his tongue, and his body began to ache as his muscles spasmed, and grew. Clyde had always kept his body is good shape, but prefered to be lean, rather than bulky–now, however, he was rapidly gaining the physique of a powerlifter. The hair on his head was falling out, even as a short beard filled in around his face–the hair on his body grew a bit thicker, but not thick enough to obscure the black tribal tattoos which were swirling to the surface of his skin.
“Oh fuck, I feel really…fucking big,” he slurred, voice thick and twisted by the metal in his mouth. It was deeper, and sounded…stupid. He had to figure out some way out of this–but he couldn’t. His mind felt sluggish, and everyone was…staring at him. He liked having people stare at him–it felt good. He felt sexiest when everyone’s eyes were on him, and nowhere else. The men, noticing that he’d lost the will to resist, undid one of his hands–and rather than try and escape, he reached under and stroked his metal studded cock, the men fucking him harder now–but the dildo was feeling…strange in their hands. It behaved like a water balloon, or an inflated condom. They pushed it in deep, and Clyde felt it pop inside of him, and whatever liquid was inside of it flooded his ass–but didn’t flow back out. No, he could feel it surge through him to his cock and balls, the silicone running into his scrotum and into the flesh of his shaft. He could feel it growing in his hands, losing some sensation as the skin stretched. His cock didn’t grow any longer, and the shaft swallowed the head entirely, with just the massive ring jutting out from the fleshlight shaped mound his cock had become. His balls, when they stopped growing, hung heavy below him, almost the size of a bowling ball, the piercings now better spaced on the huge sack.
The men untied him and he went straight to the mirror–eager to look at himself, to see what everyone else could see. He was a freak–a muscle freak with an impossible cock, and Clyde couldn’t be happier. The silicone seemed to have affected other parts of his as well–his lips fuller, his pecs inflated too large to be completely natural. The men were all gaping, and soon, one was on his knees, worshiping Clyde’s strange meat, while another bent him over and started fucking the attention whore’s still loose hole, memories of his old life fading quickly.
Within the hour, he was running around the house with the rest of them, massive package barely constrained by a thong he’d found in one of the boxes Arctos had delivered with the asslickers–dancing for the men, enticing them, until they gave in and fucked his ass or worshiped his freakish junk, nothing more than a musclebear attention whore for the rest of his days.
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