I tabulated the results, and I’m going to use the top six pranks to create three short vignettes from the party–hope you enjoy them over the next few days!
The guys in the house could just be a bit much sometimes. Sure, the partying was great, usually, but Blake could only take it so long before he needed a second on his own. He stepped out of the house and onto the back porch of the frat house, and shivered a bit. His costume, a gladiator, wasn’t exactly layered or well insulated, and he wouldn’t be able to stand the cold fall evening for too long, but that was alright, he just needed a breather.
But on the table out there, he spotted something odd–a package of cigars sitting beside the ashtray the bros usually used when they were smoking, but to Blake’s knowledge, none of them had ever smoked cigars–well, no one other than him. His dad smoked them, and he’d taught Blake how to do so after his high school graduation as a rite of passage, and he’s smoked them with his dad and uncles during summers past–but in all honesty, he could use one. They always gave him a bit of a boost, and he could smoke one for a bit before going back to the party.
He unwrapped one, bit off the cap since he didn’t have much of a choice, and used the matches there to light it. It was…stronger than the ones his dad smoked, and he coughed a bit after getting it burning–but it was good. It was exactly what he needed, in fact. He took a seat at the table and took a deeper draw–he usually only boy scouted it and never inhaled, but this time…it felt right. He pulled the smoke down into his lungs, feeling warmth spread through him, and sighed, smoke curling out of his nose and down his front, not noticing the facial hair beginning to fill in around his lips and mouth where the cigar smoke landed.
He lost track of time, he was enjoying his smoke so much–that, and he was feeling pretty horny, but not for pussy, like he usually felt. No, he wanted…something else, but couldn’t quite put his finger down on it, at least until Garth came out onto the porch looking for him. But the man in the gladiator costume wasn’t Blake–or at least, not the Blake he remembered. No, he was a stranger now, with a thick, salt and pepper beard, a hefty gut covered in fur, balding severly, and eyeing Garth hungrily while he groped his own cock openly. That, Blake thought, was a handsome looking boy–that’s what he was craving, what he wanted was to fuck a boy. Was to fuck his boy.
He told the boy to come over and help his daddy out, but Garth was having none of that, and he retreated back into the house. Blake, with a growl, heaved his much heavier frame up and followed after him, somehow knowing that if he could feed the boy a few lungfuls of daddy smoke, he’d be…his, for good. Garth ended up retreating upstairs, and Blake followed after him–in Garth’s room, they struggled a bit, Garth slowly succumbing to the daddy’s smoke–at least until he jostled his dressed where one of the nerds had stashed a baby bomb. It fell off and exploded, consuming them both in the cloud of choking baby powder, and as they tried to wave it away, they both became a bit woozy, and couldn’t quite remain standing the way they had been.
When the dust cleared, neither of them was wearing the costumes they’d had on–instead, all the two of them were wearing were big, fluffy diapers around their waists. As much as they tried, neither of them could seem to get the diaper off–they were just too weak all of a sudden. Garth felt a sudden pressure in his peepee, and before he could do anything about it, he flooded his diaper with a massive load of piss, and it felt…good. So good, he didn’t think twice about filling the back with a load of shit as well. He sat down in it, feeling it squish around, stuck his thumb in his mouth and rubbed his hard peepee through the front of the diaper, knowing he was being a good little boy.
Blake resisted a bit longer, tried to talk Garth into his senses, but his words just wouldn’t come out right. Everything was garbled together, and he couldn’t form sentences more than a few words long. Then, he too pissed in his diaper, and let out a laugh, and in a few more minutes, they were both reduced to dumb babies with full diapers, rubbing each other’s peepees through their diapers, wondering where their daddy might have gone to.
In the end, after filling their diapers with a load of cum each, they crawled off to search for one–and for some milk. Babies needed milk to grow, after all, and the best milk came from…men. From cocks. They did find one after a while, pinning a frat boy down and sucking him off, the risidual powder from the babies warping his mind, convincing him that he was the daddy of them both–and after sucking down one the rest of baby daddy’s cigar, he looked like one too.