Business as Usual

An open ended, multipart story following the various tales of a business that has been taken over by a new CEO. However, the men working there soon discover that with new leadership, it is going to be anything but business as usual for them.

Last updated: 10/21/2019 – Part 3 is now public!

Click the button below to see the table of contents, and read the story!

Table of Contents

Part 1 – Healthy Competition

“Sir…it’s about…my boss. About Richard Evans. I know we’ve never spoken before, and I want to thank you for seeing me, and hearing me out. I know you’re promoting him to vice president, but…but I think there’s some things you need to know about him, first.”

Kyle squirmed a bit in his seat, wondering if the older man across from him was going to say anything at all. The man in question was Gary Olson–the rather enigmatic CEO who had recently acquired the company where Kyle worked as a software engineer. Why Mr. Olson had acquired them, his plans for the company–everything was in the dark, aside from a cryptic letter the entire staff had received a few weeks before, announcing the shift in leadership. Kyle hadn’t even set eyes on him until this moment, and he wasn’t quite the sort of man he was expecting. He was…short, and a bit squat. Fat, with a heavy second chin obscuring the knot of his tie. Balding. Not very…commanding, and yet his eyes…were chilling somehow. Stone grey, and he didn’t quite seem to blink as often as a normal person. He hadn’t stopped staring at Kyle the entire time he’d been here, and he was already beginning to wonder if this was a good idea or not…but he had to say something, didn’t he? After the things Richard had…been doing to him, lately? 

He supposed he had waited long enough–Mr. Olson was still silent, and so Kyle figured he might as well just say it. “He’s been harassing me, sir. Sexually. Since about the time his promotion was announced in my department. I…He was never like that before, but…I didn’t even know he was gay, but it’s like…the power went to his head. One day he was fine, and then the next…”

Mr. Olson reacted, at last, and leaned forward, elbows on his desk, still gazing at Kyle with those stony eyes. “I see–that is a serious accusation to make against a member of our staff.”

“I know sir,” Kyle said, “But it’s the truth.”

“What has he done, Mr. Porter? Please be specific–spare me no detail. I want to hear it in your own words, if you would please,” Mr. Olson smiled then…but it did not seem particularly kind, or like it was meant to help put him at ease. It just made Kyle even more nervous. 

“Uh…well, the first…” He gulped, looked to the door for a moment, and then back at the CEO staring him down. “It was the day after I heard about it. He came by my cubicle, and I congratulated him, and…and he leaned over me, and whispered some…awful stuff in my ear, and while he did, he reached down into my lap and groped my…crotch.”

“What did he say?” Mr. Olson asked.

“I…It was…sexual and…I don’t know if–”

“I need details, Mr. Porter. Please be specific.”

“He told me…he told me that he was going to have a personal little piggy once he became VP, and that he’d decided that the piggy was going to be…me. That I was going to be his little fuckpig, his dirty little pig whore, that he was going to fuck me over the side of his desk, and…and I was going to beg and snort for it like a good little beast…” 

Kyle gave a grunt, and realized, to his horror, that one of his hands had found its way into his pants, and was currently milking his cock, right there in front of the CEO, while he recounted how his boss had talked dirty to him. His face turned bright red, and he pulled his hand free–Mr. Olson just smiled a little wider as he did.

“Did you like it, when he called you a pig?”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Did you like it, Mr. Porter, when Mr. Evan’s called you a pig? It looked like, for a second there, that you were almost enjoying yourself.”

“I…I’m sorry sir, maybe…maybe this was a mistake, I…I think I should go–”

“I’m afraid that I would much rather hear more about how Mr. Evan’s has been treating you, Mr. Porter, but first–please stand up from that chair.”

Kyle slowly stood up, not sure what was going on.

“Take off your clothes, please.”

“I don’t…excuse me, sir?” Kyle said, but he noticed something odd–that while he didn’t want his hands to do it…they were already unbuttoning his shirt down the front. He tried to make them stop, or even just slow down, but they were operating without him directing them, somehow. “I don’t…why can’t I–”

“Stop talking–and just strip.”

Kyle’s mouth glued itself shut, and his hands kept undoing his clothes in front of the CEO, Kyle trying to get a grip on himself and what he was doing, but more and more, it all just felt like some fucked up dream he had somehow wandered into. He tried pinching himself, but it had no effect–he dropped his shirt on the floor, took off his shoes, dropped his pants and underwear, and then he was naked, shaking slightly, horrified at what he was doing and unable to understand why he was doing it at all. He went to sit back down in the chair, but Mr. Olson shook his head. “No, stay standing, and tell me what else Mr. Evan’s has been doing to you, that made you so uncomfortable.”

“Well, he…he whispered all those things to me, and I told him to stop, that it wasn’t appropriate, and he…he showed me his cock, sir.”

“Just showed it to you?”

“He…made me suck him off.”

“He made you suck him off–just like that? How did he make you do it? Did you yell for help?”

“No…No sir.”

“Did you try and get away?”

“At first sir, but…”

“But what?”

But he’d liked it. He could feel Richard’s hand around his throat, squeezing until he saw stars, his mouth popping open, and he swallowed his boss’s cock, and…and he’d liked it. The taste of it, the feel of it. He’d felt…ashamed that he’d liked it, but it didn’t change the facts, did it? 

“Why is your cock getting hard, Mr. Porter? Are you thinking about how much you liked his cock? Did you really come in here today to complain, Mr. Porter, or is there something else you’d like to tell me? Something you’d like to ask?”

“That’s…that’s not all he’s done sir, it got worse. It got…worse today, especially, please…I don’t know what’s wrong with me, why I’m doing this…I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be his…his pig sir, please…”

Mr. Olson leaned back in his chair, one hand in his crotch, massaging his own cock, while he stared at Kyle on the other side, completely naked, chubby, his three inch cock at perfect attention. Still…there was something there that was appealing to Gary–Kyle would make a good pig for the rest of the office, just as Mr. Evans had suggested, but maybe…well, he’d have to press him a little more, see what he thought of him himself. “What happened today then? Spare me no details, Mr. Porter.”

Kyle gulped, unable to believe he was going to say this. He didn’t even really have words for it himself, he was still so…horrified, at what what Richard had done, at what…at what he’d allowed him to do to him. “I…I was in the bathroom. I had to piss,” he said, and swallowed. “I had to piss, and I think…he saw he go in, because I was at the urinal when he came in behind me, and he told me that, as the boss, he needed to piss first. I didn’t know what to do, so I moved out of the way of the urinal, but he…he shoved me down, onto my knees, got his cock out, and pushed the head into my mouth, and he…he pissed down my throat, sir. He fed me his piss, right there in the bathroom. I…I felt so fucking dirty sir, like a dirty fucking pig, but I was so afraid someone would see me, would…would, I don’t know…I didn’t want to do it, but I couldn’t stop myself, like…I have to do what he says. He’s doing something to me. He’s in my head! I wasn’t…this fat, before, and my cock was bigger, and…and I feel like I’m going crazy sir, you have to believe me! This isn’t normal. He told me…told me I was going to be his personal urinal from now on, and he’d…I’d have to eat out his ass too, after he shits, and…and then he fucked me. He fucked me right there, at the urinal, plowed me so hard, and my little pig cock fucking exploded all over the dirty urinal, and he made me lick it up while he laughed.”

Mr. Olson just sat there, in the silence after that, groping himself, and smiling at Kyle across from him. “And you just let him do all of that to you? He did all that, and you still came like a little dirty pig?”

Kyle gulped, and nodded in shame.

“Mr. Olson stood up from his chair, and came around to where Kyle was standing. “You still thirsty pig?” he asked, “You wanna drink my piss too? Eat out my ass? Beg me to fuck that fat, piggy hole of yours for a while? Is that why you came in here, telling me all of this? You want me to get all horny for that fat ass of yours, is that it?”

“No–No sir, please don’t…I don’t want this!”

Mr. Olson stepped closer to him, eye to eye, and stared right into Kyle. His eyes…fuck, they were so intense, that Kyle didn’t want to keep his gaze, but he couldn’t look away, and after a moment, Mr. Olson stepped back. “Well, maybe you’re right. You’re a willful one, I’ll give you that. I don’t know if Evans properly vetted you for the position. Maybe we should have him come in, and we can see about this together.”

“What…what do you mean, sir?”

“Well, I’m recruiting a team of vice presidents from the company that can…really help me take things in a new direction. Evans gave me an impressive interview, and when he told me you would be a perfect pig, I trusted him to make the choice. Seeing you here though, I’m not so sure myself,” Mr. Olson went to his phone, and called his secretary, asking him to get Mr. Evans in for an urgent meeting.

Kyle went to grab his clothes, nervous about his boss, and harasser, seeing him naked here with the CEO, but Mr. Olson gave him a sharp slap on the ass when he did.

“No need for pretense here, Mr. Porter–just wait and be patient.”

Mr. Olson sat back down, and Kyle stood there, worried, wondering how all of this had become so strange so quickly. It was only a few minutes before the door opened, and Richard Evans entered the office as well, looking from Mr. Olson to Kyle and back again a couple of times, wondering what all of this was about.

“I’m glad you could join us, Richard,” Mr. Olson said, “Mr. Porter here came to me with some concerns about your conduct towards him as of late–and listening to him, I’ve found myself reconsidering some of the decisions I’ve made so far, since assuming control of the company.”

“I don’t…understand what you mean, sir,” Richard said.

“Well, I worry I offered you a position as my VP before you were properly vetted. After all, I can’t just have pigs wandering into my office, making complaints, now can I? I’m a very busy man, as you know, and the fact that you have not been able to resolve this on your own has me questioning whether you are fit for the role. In fact, given Mr. Porter’s substantial willpower, and the fact that some part of him even understands what you are doing to him, I find myself…sympathetic.”

“Please, can someone just…tell me what’s going on?” Kyle asked, “Why…why are you doing this to us?” he asked Mr. Olson, but the CEO ignored him.

“I was just taking my time sir, is all. I’ll have him broken by the end of work today.”

“Oh yes, one of you will be broken, most certainly–that’s why you are both here, after all. But there’s nothing better for a business than a little healthy competition, both inside and outside,” Mr. Olson said. “Evans–please strip, if you’d be so kind.”

“Sir, this really isn’t necessary–”

“I said strip!”

Evans grimaced, but did as he was told, adding his own suit to the pile, where Kyle had set his own clothes. He was older, in his mid 40’s, but built solid. Kyle didn’t know if he had started going to the gym, but he seemed…thick, and commanding, and…and had he changed too, in the midst of all of this? Kyle focused, trying to remember who his boss had been before the takeover…who he’d been, as well, but it was so hard to remember anything clearly before Mr. Olson had been here, running everything. He was certainly in better shape than Kyle–taller, more muscular, a bigger cock…Kyle forced himself to tear his eyes away from it–he couldn’t afford to be distracted, not right now.

“Here’s what we are going to do,” Mr. Olson said. “The two of you are going to settle this, here and now. One of you is going to be my new VP, and the other is going to be the office pig. It matters very little to me, who ends up as what, but I suspect it makes a great difference to you both.”

“You can’t be serious sir!” Richard said, “After everything I did, you still doubt me?”

“Now is your chance to set my doubts to rest, Richard–show me you have what it takes. Don’t let this pig squirm his way out of your control anymore.”

Richard looked at Kyle then, and was unprepared for the loathing in his eyes. Kyle looked to Mr. Olson, but the CEO showed no real interest in his plight, or in his understanding of it. Then, Richard was on him, one big hand around his throat, squeezing down, reducing Kyle’s breath to a wheeze.

“You stupid fucking pig–you thought you could, what, step in here, and that he was going to do something to help you?” Richard said, and laughed, “You still don’t fucking get any of this–he’s in charge now, and we’re all going to be on top, or we’re going to be on the bottom–and there’s a whole lot less room on top, trust me. I’m not about to let you fuck this up for me, you fucking understand? No dirty, stupid, worthless fucking cock sucking, piss swilling pig is going to ruin this!”

Kyle gave a snort, tried to squeeze out an apology, tried to beg, but Richard just scowled at him. “How about you apologize to my pits, pig–let’s start there.”

Richard’s hand shifted from around his throat to the back of his head, he raised an arm up, and shoved Kyle’s face into the musky armpit. It wasn’t the first time Kyle had cleaned them out for his boss, in the last few weeks, and he was so scared, he just started licking like he was supposed to, tasting Richard’s sweat…but his mind was racing, trying to pull away, trying to figure out what to do about all of this. He…he had a chance here. He could feel Mr. Olson’s eyes burning into him, looking for something inside him. Why hadn’t he just dominated him earlier? It was clear that Mr. Olson could have made him do…anything, but he hadn’t. And now, he was in a fight he barely understood…but if he lost, well, he’d be drinking a lot more piss in the future, that was for sure.

But what could he do? He…he was just a pig, wasn’t he? He licked a little harder, giving a small snort, feeling his cock bounce a bit as he did. Richard…did taste good. He wondered if Mr. Olson tasted the same…maybe…maybe he’d get to find out. One hand rubbed his belly, certain he could feel it growing a bit larger, and that was what made him pull away from Richard and look down. Sure enough–his gut was larger than it had been–he was still changing!

Richard just sneered at him, and Kyle backed away again, wanting to put more space between them. How could he do this? He was shorter than Richard. Fatter. Weaker in…in every possible way. He was supposed to service him, wasn’t he? He shook his head–those weren’t his thoughts–what had Mr. Olson said? He’d called him ‘willful’. He wasn’t going to be able to fight him and beat him–Kyle knew that, but maybe…maybe he could out think him. Richard had never been the smartest fellow after all–even before this, he’d had a reputation for stealing other people’s ideas, always sucking up to his bosses. Kyle was smarter than him. If he was changing, becoming more like a pig after smelling his pits–then maybe Richard could change too. What he had to do was drag Richard down to his level. He who lies with pigs…well, something like that. If Kyle didn’t lose his wits first, of course. It was now or never, he supposed, and so he charged into Richard hard enough to knock them both to the floor, where they started to wrestle for dominance.

Of course, Richard was in much better condition–Kyle knew that. This wouldn’t be a test of strength, but he knew it was important that Richard thought it was. And so, Kyle focused on his keeping his head on the prize, doing everything he could to get them both sweaty, and musky, pushing Richard’s face towards his own pits, towards his crotch, and he noticed, sure enough, that Richard was changing slightly. Getting a little pudgier, his eyes a little more wild and eager. More than once, he managed to force Richard into his pits, and the older fellow gave them a lick or two before shaking himself out of it, and doing his best to get control back from Kyle–but it was clear it was wearing on him. Richard hadn’t noticed what was happening, but from the grin Kyle could see on Mr. Olson’s face, it was clear the CEO knew exactly what was going on.

Kyle almost lost it, a couple of times. Once, when Richard pinned him down, shoving his musky cock in his face…and Kyle couldn’t stop himself–he took it in his mouth and started sucking on it while Richard laughed and snorted in glee, thinking for a moment that he might have won. It was close. Kyle was exhausted, both in body and mind. It would be easier to just give in, let the pig have control, let Richard have control, let Gary have control. But part of him still refused–and when Richard started pissing in his mouth, in an effort to break him, Kyle held some in his mouth, pulled off his cock, and sprayed Richard’s piss back in his face.

Richard was furious–but the fury didn’t help him. He started getting careless. Kyle could manipulate him, told him how much he wanted to be Richard’s pig, got him to start…tasting him. Spending more time in his pig’s pits, licking his big gut, grinding them together, tasting the piss in his lips…didn’t he want to taste more? Richard stood up, leering, eyes wild, and started pissing all over Kyle on the floor–but then he just got down and started licking it off of him, grunting and snorting, Kyle eventually feeding him his own piss right from the tap. It was after that, his gut bloated with piss, mind reeling, that Richard realized what was happening. He looked down at himself–and saw he was almost as much a pig at this point as Kyle.

“You…you fucking pig! What the fuck did you do to me?” he shouted at him, and then turned on Mr. Olson. “You piece of shit–this is what you fucking meant?”

The CEO just shrugged. “I don’t see anything wrong with two men competing for a position in my company. I consider it healthy.”

Kyle stood up too–and figured that if he didn’t act now, he was going to be too exhausted to go through with it. After all, while he’d dragged Richard down far, he’d fallen himself–he was over 300 pounds, cock hard as a button, and there was a beast in him clawing at his mind, trying to tear down the walls, desperate to submit to these…men, these men who were superior to him, the pig, in every way. He tackled Richard and got him on the floor again–but now, his weight was to his advantage–pinning the older man was much easier now, and without thinking too hard about it, he swung around, and planted his ass right on Richard’s face.

Richard squirmed and pounded on Kyle’s ass, but he was too heavy–he couldn’t move him, and Kyle just heaved for breath after the exertion. “Make me a pig, you fucks? Fuck you! Eat it, you fucking piece of shit, eat out my piggy hole, and let’s see how you like it!”

Richard stopped fighting after a moment, there were a series of grunts, and then he started licking–and then probing, and then he was lost, grunting and snorting and chewing at Kyle’s hole, one hand reaching down to start toying with his own cock in excitement, his belly swelling under Kyle’ pushing him up slightly as Richard continued to grow. At last, it happened–Richard’s cock exploded in a massive load, and Kyle could almost hear the man’s mind shatter to bits under his fat ass. When Kyle stood up and looked down at him, Richard’s eyes were empty, face coated in sweat and the scum from Kyle’s ass. “Oh fuck sir, thank you sir, for letting this pig service you, can…can I taste it some more? Or some of your *grunt* piss? Or you wanna fuck me? Fuck my piggy hole sir, make this hog squeal like a fucking sow!”

Richard said, and rolled over, ass high, shaking it in Kyle’s direction and grunting, but Kyle just backed away–not at all interested in it. He’d won–he’d won, and now…now he was going to get put back to normal, right? But one look in the eyes of the CEO told him that this meeting was far from over.


Part 2 – A Leadership Test

“There’s your fucking pig,” Kyle said, looking over at Mr. Olson, “Now fucking change me back. I fucking quit. You’re fucking insane.”

“Quit? Why would you do that?” Gary asked, and turned towards him in the chair, “You just earned yourself a promotion, after all. How does it feel, Mr. Vice President of Operations?”

“Fuck you, I said I fucking quit!”

“Mr. Porter, I can understand that you’re likely feeling a bit frustrated and tired after your ordeal, but before you make any irrational decisions, why don’t you sit down there? We should take a moment to discuss your future in my company.”

Unable to stop himself, Kyle took the chair across from Gary, and the CEO admired him for a little longer. He could see it, that will, under Kyle’s fat body, under his stink, under his musk. Even with all of that trying to snuff it out, it was right there. He would have to craft a grand vessel for it–once the two of them came to a proper understanding. 

“Why don’t we take a moment, and just relax,” Gary said, and stood up from his desk, walked over to a little cabinet, from which he pulled out a small box, a bottle of whiskey, and two glasses. “You don’t mind your whiskey neat, do you, Kyle?”

It was the first time Mr. Olson had referred to Kyle by his first name, and the sound was jarring somehow, like he wasn’t quite prepared for it. “I think…I think I would rather just leave, Sir. Just…Just change me back into who I was, and…and I won’t tell anyone about any of this, I promise.”

“Neat it is, then,” Gary said, ignoring his request to leave, and pouring him a half glass of whiskey. Then he opened the box, pulled out two sizable cigars–clipped them, and brought it all over to his desk. He took one of the cigars and lit it, the other one resting in front of Kyle–it and the whiskey untouched. 

“Well go on man, it won’t bite you,” Gary said around his own cigar.

“I don’t smoke, and I don’t feel comfortable drinking around you. I just want to leave, sir.”

“Now there’s no need to be rude, Kyle–we’re going to be entering a partnership here, of sorts, and I want you to be comfortable here with me. Very few people get to share time with me like this, you understand that, right? And if you haven’t noticed, I am not one to take no for an answer.”

Gary took a drag off his cigar, pushed out a thick plume right into Kyle’s face–he tried to cough and wave it away, but the smoke forced its way into him, down into his lungs, clinging to his face, and when he could finally gasp for breath–Kyle could feel that something inside him had changed. Looking at the cigar in front of him…he didn’t just want it, he needed it. He grabbed it, hands shaking, and lit it with the lighter Gary handed him, taking a deep drag and immediately inhaling the smoke deep, feeling that…clawing desperating settle slightly. “You’re a real fucking piece of shit, you know that Sir?” Kyle said.

“Have a drink, Kyle. Enjoy yourself. You won! You should be celebrating,” Gary said, still smiling. “You can either enjoy it, or you can need it–the choice is up to you.”

Kyle picked up the glass and took a sip–a small one, but he did it, and then set it back on the desk.

“You know, I had a feeling about you, when you came in here,” Gary said, “I’ve been in business long enough that I can feel a guy out in a few moments, and I could tell that Richard hadn’t chosen well at all, when he picked you. He picked you because he didn’t like you, and he didn’t like you because he felt threatened by you. But what he didn’t do, was pick you because you would bend.” Gary paused for a moment, and beckoned the pig around the desk. Richard went to him and sat next to him on the floor, Gary stroking his greasy hair, while Richard looked up at the CEO lovingly. “You don’t bend easily. You wouldn’t have made it here if you were meant to bend at all. I knew, as soon as I brought Richard in here and felt the two of you together, that you would win, one way or another. But just because you don’t bend easily, doesn’t mean I can’t…break you instead.”

The word…hurt. It hurt in a way that Kyle couldn’t quite explain. In his head, but also in his soul. Something deep twisted up for a moment, and then snapped back, leaving him reeling, even though…nothing had actually happened to him, that he could actually point to. He grabbed the glass, and drank half of it down, wiping his mustache and beard off on his arm, feeling his hand shake a bit. “What…what the fuck was that?”

“Oh, I nearly broke you, is all. Nearly broke your mind into little pieces, left you as a drooling, stupid fucktoy I’d probably install down in the basement as a cumdump and urinal for the rest of the company.” Gary hadn’t stopped stoking Richard’s head as he spoke, the pig still looking up at him with such glee in his new position, it was hard for Gary to remember that only a few hours ago, he had been the man tormenting him in the bathroom. “I don’t like breaking men, Kyle. It’s wasteful. But as you are, a man who won’t bend, you can only be one of two things–you can be loyal to me, and serve me, and obey my every command–and in return, I will give you a dominion you can hardly imagine. Or, you can refuse, and I will break you, and you will no longer exist. A shame, of course, but you would hardly be the first. I might even let this one try again for your position, if you are so foolish as to refuse my offer here.” Gary took a moment, turned to Richard on his knees beside him, and tilted his head back, opening the pig’s mouth, taking his cigar, and rolling the end on his tongue, dropping the hot ash there. Richard held it there for a moment, squirming, until Gary gave him a nod, and then he closed his mouth and swallowed it down.

Watching that all happen, there was something inside Kyle that he wasn’t expecting–sudden rush at the sight of Richard being so degraded. It took him a moment that Gary was looking at him, still smiling.

“I felt that, you know,” Gary said.

“Felt…felt what?”

“How much you enjoyed watching that,” Gary said, rubbing Richard’s head again. “You hate him, don’t you? Before all of this, you detested him. Think about everything he’s done to you over the last while–he wanted to ruin you, you know, and look at him now. Just a little, stupid, horny pig.” Gary slapped Richard across the face then, hard enough to send the pig to the floor. “A stupid, idiot pig–that’s all that’s left, but he’s still in there, a bit of him. He knows perfectly well what’s happened to him, how far he’s fallen, but he can’t do anything about it–you have no idea how angry he is, that it was you who ruined him in the end.”

Kyle watched Richard push himself up from the floor of the office, and get back to his knees, head bowed. Was there really something left of him in there? He found himself hoping there was. He…wanted to hurt him–did he really want that? He was angry, that much he knew, but could he do something like that, really? He looked away, and saw that Gary was studying him across the desk.

“How about this, Mr. Porter. Let’s make a deal. I want you to punish this pig. Hard. I want you to punish this pig so hard that he cums from the sheer exquisite torment of it. If you do that for me, and you still do not want to assist me in my business here, then so be it–I’ll restore you, and allow you to walk away from here with no memory of any of this. It will all be just a bad dream. But if you enjoy it–if you cum too, from the sheer enjoyment of abusing this filthy pig–then you’re mine, understand? Forever. And if you fail to make him cum–then I will break you into nothing more than a cumdump, even for pigs like him.”

Kyle thought he saw Richard’s ears perk up at that last note there–he didn’t know if it was going to be easy. Then again, had any of this been easy so far? He didn’t exactly have much of a choice, in any case. “Fine–I accept. I’ll beat the stupid pig.”

“Excellent–then may I direct you to my cabinet? You can select your tools from there.”

Mr. Olson pointed to a tall cabinet against the wall that Kyle hadn’t noticed earlier–he wasn’t even sure if it had been there at all. He got up from the chair, finished his whiskey, and then went over, still smoking his cigar, and opened the doors. Inside was a wide assortment of instruments–paddles and floggers, dildos and clamps, gags and rope. He didn’t really know what to do with any of it–but he selected a paddle first, and walked back to where the pig was kneeling. He grabbed him by the hair, hauled him up with a snort, and threw him over the side of the desk, and slammed the paddle into the pig’s ass–but the pig barely reacted, aside from a little snort.

A bit dismayed, he hit the pig again, harder this time, but again, the pig barely reacted. He hit him again, even harder, and this time there was more than a snort–the pig was laughing at him.
Fucking laughing at him! In a rage, he plucked the cigar from his hand, and slammed the burning end down on the pig’s shoulder, making his squeal in pain, and as soon as he realized what he’d done, Kyle stepped back, horrified at himself, watching the burn heal almost immediately, leaving behind a small, circular scar on the pig’s back.

“Good, very good. He felt that one for sure,” Gary said, “the others…well, I’d say you lack strength, I suppose. Pigs can have a very tough hide you see–heals quickly too. They’re designed to take a beating in some very rough circumstances. I’m not sure your…current frame is really suited to the task–I could always help you out, if you ask, however.”

“Thanks, but I’m good,” Kyle said, “I’ve had you fucking with me too much already.”

Gary just shrugged. Kyle went back to the closet, retrieved a flogger this time, one with the ends tied up in knots, and started swinging it at the pigs ass–it got a few satisfying grunts from him, but the tool was heavy, and Kyle was already feeling a bit winded. He looked down, and saw the pig wasn’t even hard. How in the hell was he going to do this? This was a different sort of challenge from before–that had been…endurance. This was something else entirely. He let the whip drop, breathing hard, sweating all over, and the pig looked back at him over his shoulder. Not laughing, just…curious. Looking at that fucking face, all he wanted was to bash it in with a hammer, and–

He pushed that away. Gary laughed at the desk, almost like he could see what was going through Kyle’s mind in the moment. “Are you afraid of your anger? You shouldn’t be. It’s rather beautiful,” Gary said, “You don’t quite know how to channel it, do you?”

“Just…shut up.”

“I’m happy to help, you know. You don’t have to do this all alone.”

“I said shut up!”

The mental blow was like the first one–but even more severe–bad enough that he could almost feel his mind cracking a bit under the strain, before Gary released him, and Kyle found himself lying in the floor, curled up in confusion.

“I do find you rather entertaining, Mr. Porter, but I will not tolerate disrespect in my own office.”

Kyle sat up on the floor, shaking, grabbed his cigar where it had fallen on the floor, and took a long drag off of it. He wasn’t going to be able to do this alone–not without help. But he could tell that help from Gary was going to come…with strings attached. He got up. “I’m sorry sir, I…I need the help.”

“At last, he sees reason!” Gary said, “Allow me.”

There was a jolt that went through him–Kyle didn’t know how to explain it better than that, really. Energy passing through him, and in its wake, it was like every part of his body was thrumming with energy, crackling almost, and then…something actually cracked. It was one of the bones in his leg, and he groaned in pain, and nearly fell over on the floor, it hurt so much. Then, his other leg cracked as well, and he did fall onto his knees, more and more pain emanating from his bones as they all got thicker and longer, taking him from his starting height of around five foot eight to a few inches over six feet in a matter of moments. He stretched his arms, feeling his joints popping in and out of place, groaning in pain, as his muscles caught up. His metabolism devoured most of the fat on his body, leaving him with an aching hunger in the pit of his gut, as muscle piled on the rest of his body–thick biceps and pecs, massive tree trunk legs, a bull neck. He was heaving for breath now, and finally managed to get his hands back under him and push up and back onto his feet–his…big feet. Everything about his was massive, and he looked down at himself in shock. “Fucking…what the fuck is this?”

“I made you stronger–more than strong enough, really.”

“Did it have to fucking hurt so much?”

“Of course not–but maybe that will teach you to show me some respect from now on, Mr. Porter.”

Kyle bent down and picked up the paddle he had grabbed first–it felt…so light now, it was strange. He gave in a test swing, and then, Mr. Olson could see Kyle gripping the paddle tighter in his hands, staring at him, nose flared in rage. 

“I see you want to hurt me–that’s good. But perhaps, for your own safety, I might suggest redirecting that rage to a more suitable candidate? Trying to strike me will not end well for you, Mr. Porter.”

He was right. He knew how to get out of this, anyway. He walked back to where the pig was bent over the desk, brought the paddle down on his ass, and even that light swat brought out a louder snort from the pig than his heaviest had before. He did it again, harder this time, a slight smile curling at his lips, hearing…and somehow even feeling the pig’s pain, reverberating up the paddle and into his arm as a new kind of pleasure. He picked up a steady rhythm then, the swats picking up speed and force, the pig gripping the side of the desk.

“Yes, that’s it. You were always small, weren’t you, Mr. Porter?” Gary said, standing a bit behind Kyle, watching him work, speaking soft enough that he couldn’t even really hear him over the sound of the paddle on the pig’s ass. “Bullies always picking on you, bullies just like this one. Well you don’t want to take it anymore, do you? That’s why you wanted to get big, isn’t it? Started going to the gym, packing on the pounds–but at some point, you realized something, didn’t you? You didn’t just want to fight back against the bullies–you wanted to be a bully. Remember that guy, in the shower? That older, chubby fellow–not so different from this one, really. He’d been afraid of you–and that…got you hard. You’d gone into the shower after him, just the two of you, you’d seen how small his cock was, and you laughed. You laughed, and you made him worship yours instead, a proper cock–all ten inches of it sliding deep into his fat hole, right there in the locker room.”

Kyle could remember it. He could remember how the fat fuck had said no at first, but with a few slaps–he’d loved it. Loved it so much he came twice just from getting fucked with Kyle’s massive cock–and he’d begged him to do it again when they’d crossed paths the week after. Then he realized he’d fallen into a trap, and he pushed his way against it, stepping back from the pig, putting the paddle on his table, and facing Gary. “Fucking stop it–what the fuck did you just do?”

“I was just telling you a story, Kyle.”

“That was no fucking story! I fucking remember it–like it fucking happened, but it fucking didn’t. Stay the fuck out of my head!”

“I’m merely trying to help you–as you asked me to do,” Gary said, “Pigs can be tough to crack–only men with a certain amount of experience are successful at it.”

“Well cut it out, I got this.”

“I’m afraid you get all of my help, or none of it–and since you already accepted…perhaps you should focus on working quickly, if you want me to help you as little as possible.”

Kyle scowled at him, then went back to the cabinet, grabbed a vibrating plug, went back over to the pig, shoved it in his ass and turned it on, the pig giving a low series of grunts and humping the air a bit. Kyle checked–he was hard at least–progress, this had always worked pretty well on the gym pig. Then he grabbed the paddle again, and started hammering the plug in deeper. 

“Yeah, you loved being a brute–you wanted to look like one more too. You wanted everyone to know exactly who you were when you came down the street. You started on the steroids. Got the tattoos and all of those piercings. The steroids didn’t help the anger issues of course–but you had plenty of outlets for it by then, didn’t you?”

Kyle grunted, and tried to ignore the new pains all over his body–rings and studs appearing all over his face, tribal tattoos running over his arms and chest, up onto his neck, down his body and covering most of his legs as well. He swelled even further from the drugs coursing through his system now–and fuck, pounding this pig’s ass felt so damn good…his own cock was hard and starting to leak on the floor below him–but he…he had to wait. Had to get the pig off first, and then…then he could go back to normal. He stepped back, sweaty, looked at himself in the mirror hanging by the desk, and the man he saw staring back at him…terrified him. Shaved head, a thick beard, rings in his nose, his ears, his lips, a stud through his tongue, packed full of muscle, veins running under his tattooed skin. He looked like a monster. He looked away, and refocused on the task at hand. He’d broken tougher pigs than this–though this one was rather stubborn.

“But all of that was years ago I suppose, now,” Gary said, with a sigh, and a little smile. “You’re older now–more experienced. Before, you loved solving your problems with brute force–and if necessary, you possess it, but you have found that finesse and discipline can be just as helpful–if not more so, when you have a tough set of nuts to crack.”

The changes this time were more subtle. His beard pulled back in, now shorter and neatly trimmed around his face, some of his more sizable piercings reduced in size–though hardly in number. Age took a bit of a toll on his body–especially once he’d stopped the steroid use from when he was younger, packing on a bit of a gut–but he was still massive, and capable of bringing down most anyone in a good wrestle, or with a solid right hook. But his boss was right–this pig was going to be a tough nut–the paddle wouldn’t do it. He needed something a bit more…specific.

He returned to the cabinet, and retrieved one of his favorites–a riding crop. It didn’t look like much, but in the right hands…well, it could do wonders. “Well pig, looks like you still haven’t quite learned your lesson, have you?”

Richard looked back, a bit confused. Kyle just grabbed him, and threw him down onto the floor on his back, and in one fluid motion, he laid one of his feet on the pig’s neck, watching the fat fuck struggle to breathe easily. He knew he could crush him, right here, if he felt like it–and fuck, that rush…he leaned over a little more, the pig gasping and grunting for breath–but his puny cock was rock hard, jutting up from his crotch, and a massive ball sack beneath it–Kyle’s target. He brought the crop down on the pig’s balls, and he managed a squeal, even with his foot on his throat, and Kyle laughed. “Yeah, that’s it, you fucking pig! You gonna cum for me? Come for your fucking boss? How about I just go ahead and beat the cum out of you, eh? One nut at a time.” He brought the crop down on his sack again, and a spurt of precum shot from the pig’s cock onto his belly. It took five hits before the pig came, without even touching his cock–a massive load spilling out from his nuts all over his belly–but that wasn’t the end of the punishment. Kyle laid twenty blows with the crop on the pig’s nuts, leaving them blue and swollen, stroking his own rock hard cock as he watched the pig writhe–and fuck, he wanted this pig’s ass–and he was going to take it.

He stepped off the pig’s throat, but before Richard could catch a breath, Kyle grabbed him by the hair, hauled him up, and threw him against the desk. He hauled out the plug, and rammed in his own cock, with a snarl. As he did, he tensed up–and he remembered. He shouldn’t do this–if he did this…he’d be trapped, but fuck, it felt so good, and…

“And you’re the boss, Kyle. You’re the pig’s boss. You have to control him. If not you, then who? You always get what you want–you always have, and what you want right now, more than anything, even more than that normal, boring old life of yours, is to cum balls deep in this dirty pig, and claim him for good–isn’t that right?”

Gary was staring him right in the eyes as he said it, and Kyle’s body, against his will, started fucking the pig’s hole…and as he did, he felt the will inside him start to warp around Gary’s gaze. It hurt–like it had those two times Gary had threatened to break him, but it was a different sort of ache. Everything was twisting–and he was seeing things differently now. This, for example, was no longer a person to him, the thing he was fucking. It didn’t have a name, it didn’t have rights. It was just an animal, a slave, a hole, a punching bag. He could do anything he wanted to do it, without trouble…and there were so many things he wanted to do to it, so…many filthy, perverse, nasty, painful things…

It was too late–Kyle’s balls clenched, and he unloaded deep into the pig’s guts, expelling all of his old life as he did. Gary watched as Kyle’s eyes turned from their sparkling hazel to a cold, emotionless grey–much like his own. After all, Kyle was his now, mind, body, and soul–a handsome, muscular, sadistic vice president–the perfect sort of man to help him revamp this company into a successful business venture of his own.

“Thank you, Sir,” Kyle said, pulling free of the pig’s hole. “I understand now–I’m happy to be of service to you, and your business.”

“That’s good to hear, Mr. Porter–there’s just one final task for you to complete, before your promotion is assured. Bend over, if you would, next to the pig.”

Kyle’s new mind wanted to resist, but the CEO’s hold on his mind was now ironclad. He did as he was commanded, and the CEO slid his own cock into Kyle’s muscular hole. 

“Look at that pig beside you, Mr. Porter–look at how worthless he is, how inhuman. Well compared to me–that’s exactly what you look like. You serve as my vice president at my whim, do you understand that? My will is your will. If you step out of line, even once–I can assure you that this pig will look at you in the same way you are looking at him now. Understand?”

“Yes Sir, I understand Sir.”

“That’s good to hear,” Mr. Olson said, and shot his own load in Kyle’s hole. 

He allowed his new vice president to stand upright, Kyle blushing a bit, surprised by how much he’d enjoyed having his boss’s cock in his hole–and he wondered when he might get fucked by him again…maybe after a good whipping of his own. Mr. Olson just smiled, and Kyle wondered if the thought had been his own at all, or if his boss had slipped it in there without him even realizing. Did it even matter in the end? He wanted to submit to him–he was the only man worthy of his submission. “Thank you for the promotion, Sir, I promise I will do everything in my power to fulfill your vision here at the company.”

“I know you will, Kyle. For now, why don’t you get dressed, and start finding me some more pig candidates in the departments around here? We’re behind schedule. I want two fully broken in by the end of the week, and another five prepped for next week. If you could also work on a shortlist of other VP candidates while you work, that would be most helpful as well. I would value your input, as we fill out our ranks.”

Kyle nodded–it would be a lot of work, but it was work that he loved. He looked around for his clothes, and saw that the office was a sty, once everything was all said and done, the carpet soaked with piss and cum and sweat. Still, Kyle didn’t regret for a moment that he’d asked for this meeting–especially not from his new position. Kyle saw his clothes hanging up by the door–pulling on his leather shirt and slacks, his knee high boots, his leather tie and suit coat. Gary admired his new VP for a moment gave him a kiss, and sent him on his way. That just left Gary with Richard–the fat, stinking, cum soaked pig on his hands and knees, waiting for orders. He really should clean the place up–but that could wait. He had the pig rim him for a while instead–after all, it was good to be the boss, right?

Part 3 – A Good Team

CW: Rape, sexual assault

Work had been…strange lately, at least for Bruce. It was a small company, and so most everyone knew everyone else, but ever since the new CEO had stepped in…well, things had started going a little off the rails in ways he couldn’t really explain. First, there was the fact that Kyle Porter, a lowly little IT rat like Bruce himself, had been promoted to vice president of operations, even after all of the rumors that Gary was a shoe-in for the position. No one had seen Gary for a week though–or Kyle either. He was holed up in his office, though he’d occasionally call people up there for a chat…and everyone he met with…well, something was odd about them too, but Bruce couldn’t quite put a finger on how. In any case, he was prepping his resume and getting ready to send it out–he had a feeling that it would be better to get out sooner, rather than watch the whole thing fall apart around him.

But it was another day today. Tuesday. He pulled into the garage, parked, and headed inside, where Lewis was sitting at the security desk. Lewis was an older fellow, in his late forties probably. Military background, not too smart, but a genuinely nice guy, at least in Bruce’s opinion. He always found it a bit funny that he was working security, since he seemed a bit too nice to hurt anyone. Today though, Bruce thought he seemed a bit…distracted, somehow. And he looked a bit different too, maybe. Thicker. “Morning Lewis–you’re looking good today. New workout?”

“Huh? Oh, uh…” he stammered, like he was trying to find the words for something that wasn’t coming to him. “Yeah, I guess so…sorry, just feeling a bit off today.”

“No worries man, it happens. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, sure.”

With that, Bruce passed the desk and headed for the elevator, unaware that behind him, Lewis was still staring at him–or rather, at his ass. Lewis had never thought about them before really–after all, he wasn’t a faggot or anything–but today…fuck, yeah, fuck, look at that fucking ass, it was so fucking hot…he could just…just stick his cock in there, and…and…

“Hey, Bruce?” he said suddenly, wondering what in the hell he was doing. “Actually, could you help me for a second? There was…something in my office for you I think, come look at it.”

Bruce just looked at him, a bit confused. “For me? What?”

“Package someone dropped off.”

“Oh–alright,” Bruce said, and followed the security guard to the little office he had down the hall from the desk. Bruce stepped inside, and Lewis shut the door behind them, breathing a bit heavily, unable to stop thinking about…about Bruce’s ass. Bruce wasn’t exactly skinny–there was a bit of a pear shape to him, and he carried a lot of weight on his ass and hips. He was a bit self-conscious about it, really, and he wasn’t ready for Lewis to suddenly grab hold of his ass and give both cheeks a squeeze with his hands. He pulled away with a yelp, spun around, and looked at Lewis is shock. “What the hell was that, Lewis?”

“I…I fuck, I just…wanted to touch it, see…see if it felt as good as it fucking looks man,” Lewis said, “You…you have a beautiful ass, you know that right? Fuck, I…I could fuck it for you, if you want. I…I have a big cock, real big cock, bet…bet it would feel real fucking good in there, you know.”

“What…what the fuck are you talking about Lewis? You’re not fucking gay!”

“I know I’m not gay! You just…you have a great ass, man, can…can I see it, with your pants down? I just want to see it, that’s all, I…I won’t fuck it, I promise.”

“Fuck you, you fucking faggot, I’m getting the fuck out of here, and reporting you to HR!”

“I’m not a faggot!” Lewis yelled, and backhanded Bruce across the face, sending him against the wall in a daze. Lewis grabbed him by the collar and threw him over the desk, yanking down the back of Bruce’s pants and underwear. “Fuck…fuck it’s so fucking beautiful, I…I gotta, just…just the tip, I promise I just…fuck!”

Lewis looked down at his cock, the cock that had steadily getting bigger since that conversation he’d had with Kyle, the Vice President of Operations, a few days before. He was leaking pre all over Bruce’s crack, enough to slick it, and he forced the head inside, making Bruce scream. As much as he hated admitting it…it was hot, hearing that. Feeling the chubby young man trying to squirm away from his cock. He…He needed a good fucking, yeah, he did. They both did. He’d feel so much better with a load of Lewis’s cum inside him he…he just didn’t know it yet. He slid in a few more inches, and felt Bruce’s hole spasm around his cock, making Lewis snort in excitement. 

Bruce kept screaming, but no one was coming to help him, as Lewis started thrusting in more and more of his eight inch cock, deeper and deeper into Bruce’s hole. “Please, please don’t just stop, please, I…I fuck it fucking hurts!”

Lewis wasn’t listening. Lewis wasn’t thinking. It felt like his brain had just shut off for a moment, and all he could focus on was the sensation of his big cock in the man’s ass, his hands gripping Bruce’s hips hard enough to bruise him, snorting and grunting as he got closer and closer to orgasm, and he flooded Bruce’s hole with his seed, fucking it deeper and deeper into him. Slowly, Lewis came back to himself. He came back, his cock still buried in Bruce’s ass, the younger man crying underneath him…and he realized what the fuck he’d just done to him. “Oh…Oh fuck, Oh god!” he said, and hauled his cock free, “I’m sorry, oh fuck, I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t…I couldn’t stop myself I…I just needed it and…”

Bruce wasn’t listening–he just hauled up his pants as fast as he could and he fled. He had to get out of here, he had to get to the police! But before he could get out the door and to his car, he ran right into a massive wall of leather and muscle, and fell back on his ass, feeling Lewis’s load leak out into the back of his underwear with the impact. He was looking up at Kyle Porter, the new Vice President of Operations. But this wasn’t Kyle–not the Kyle he’d known before this. He was older, and muscular, and wearing leather, and those eyes–what the fuck was wrong with his eyes?

“There you are, Bruce. We had an appointment this morning, didn’t we?” Bruce said, smiling at him, but there was no mirth in his face or his eyes.

“I…Please, he…Lewis just fucking raped me! Right in his office! Please, call the cops, I–”

“That sounds like it was very traumatic for you, Bruce–tell you what. Come with me to my office, and we can discuss it together, how does that sound?”

It didn’t sound like the question it was. Bruce wanted to yell at him, wanted to tell him that was idiotic, but instead, he took Kyle’s hand, and allowed him to help him up, and lead him to the elevators. He heard the office door open, and Lewis stumbled out, cock still hanging out of his pants, drooling cum, and still rock hard. He looked over, saw Bruce waiting with Kyle by the elevator, and his face went stark white. “Remember what we discussed Lewis–it has to stay in your pants,” Kyle said with a wink, and Lewis quickly stuffed his cock back in and went back behind the desk.

“Aren’t…aren’t you going to do something? He fucking raped me,” Bruce said.

“Oh, I am doing something. Now come on, let’s go have a chat Bruce–you’ll feel so much better about all of this soon, I promise.”


Lewis spent all day and night reliving that nightmare, but unable to do a thing about it, or even talk about it with anyone. He’d just been…so damn horny. Ever since he’d had that conversation with Kyle in his office, a conversation he couldn’t even really remember, he hadn’t been able to cum, not once, for days. It was driving him to distraction–and when Bruce had passed by with that wide ass, just begging to be plowed…something else had taken him over. Something that terrified him. Like some beast had just rose up from his guts, taken control of his body, and turned him into a fucking rapist against his will.

And now, Kyle knew. Kyle knew what he’d done, and he couldn’t deny it. He should resign. He should resign, and turn himself into the police…but for some reason he hadn’t been able to do that. He’d sat at his desk, like everything was normal. Greeting people, doing his rounds of the building and the garage, checking his cameras. He never saw Bruce again that day–he must have left while Lewis was away from his desk, and that was a relief at least. Then he’d gone home, and there, he’d at least been able to cry, finally. He couldn’t get it out of his head, and worse, he was starting to get horny again. The more he thought about it, the hornier he got. He tried jacking off again, but he couldn’t even get close–all he could think about was Bruce’s tight hole…but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t go back there, he had to run, or do…anything to get away from this. After a sleepless night, he woke up, got his uniform back on, and went back to work, took his seat at his desk, and waited. He didn’t want to be here, but he also…had to be here. He belonged here. This was his place, and he…he was waiting for…someone, and at last, that someone came inside from the garage.

It was Bruce. It was mostly Bruce. Bruce, after all, had spent most of the day with Kyle in his office, getting a good talking to of his own. Kyle was a good listener, and he’d listened to Bruce’s account, but there had been some…holes. Slowly, Kyle had worn him down, and he’d seen it…differently. It had been his fault, hadn’t it? He just had such a fuckable hole, and Lewis was just a fuckbeast–he couldn’t control himself around someone like him, not that Bruce wanted him to control himself, of course. Bruce had left the office late, full to the brim with the vice president’s cum, a thick plug shoved in his hole to keep it inside. Once he’d gotten home, the urge to fill his hole hadn’t abatted in the least, and he’d spent most of the night fucking himself on all the dildos the kind VP had given him, but he knew, deep down, only cock could satisfy him. And so, as soon as he walked through the doors, he headed right for where Lewis was sitting at his security desk.

“I…Bruce, I…I’m so sorry about yesterday, I don’t know what came over me. I’ve been feeling so fucking weird this week, and–”

“Lewis, shut the fuck up, I don’t care. I need your cock inside me now.”

Lewis just sat there, jaw open, trying to process what Bruce had just told him.

“Hello? Hey, stupid, I know you’re not good for much, but I know you want this,” Bruce said, turned around, and shook his ass across Lewis’ desk, and the older security guard felt his cock tent out the front of his slacks.

“I…I shouldn’t, not…I don’t want to, I…what…” he paused, gulped, and tried to find some moisture in his mouth to speak, “What did Kyle say to you yesterday?”

“Why the fuck are you asking about Kyle? It doesn’t fucking matter. Now come on. Get up, let’s get in your damn office.”

“I…I don’t want to…”

Bruce just glared at him, “I don’t care if you want to or not, I fucking need a cock in my hole, and yours is fucking big enough. Now get in your damn office, you stupid fucker–or I’ll go right upstairs, and tell Kyle–or maybe I’ll go right to Gary, and tell him how…uncooperative you’re being. Do you want Kyle or Gary to know you’re being uncooperative?”

“No, I…he did something to us, please, just…just tell me what he did, what he said. I don’t want to think about this anymore, I don’t want to…do what I did you to again.”

“I’ll tell you what you did, you gave me a real good fuck, Lewis. You should be fucking proud. It’s about all a stupid fucker like you is good for. Now get in your fucking office, or I’ll report you.”

Lewis didn’t know what to do. His cock was so hard, it was difficult to think about anything other than how much he wanted to be buried deep in Bruce’s ass again. So he did as he was told, got up, and followed Bruce into his office again, and Bruce immediately dropped his pants, reached around, and hauled out a massive plug from his hole.

The thing had to be a good three inches in diameter, and Bruce moaned loudly as it came out, and he set it on Lewis’ desk beside him. “Well come on then, fucker, get in me. I don’t have all fucking morning.”

Lewis saw that hole, and as much as he wanted to resist, he felt his brain shut down again, he hauled out his rock hard cock, stumbled forward, and pushed it into Bruce’s hole. It wasn’t anything like yesterday, when his hole had been so tight, just getting inside him had been a struggle. No–Bruce’s hole was loose–but not…bad. Lewis moaned, and started panting in pleasure, hauling his cock nearly all the way out, before slamming it back in with a grunt, gripping Bruce’s hips, eyes crossed, drool running out of his mouth and into his beard.

“Yeah, that’s a good fuckbeast–this is right where you fucking belong, isn’t it? Balls deep in my fuckhole,” Bruce said, and looked over his shoulder, “Fuck, ain’t that a sight. Not a fucking thought in your empty head, is there? Doesn’t that feel good? Letting your big, fat, thick cock do all the thinking for you? Don’t worry, Kyle gave me a new little task here, he wants me to break you. Ruin that little head of yours until there’s nothing fucking left–and the more your head turns off, the hotter you’re going to get–that cock is only going to get bigger, those balls too. You’ll get hairier too, smellier, not that you’ll fucking care. Why would a beast care about something like that? Fuck me harder, you fucking brute, come on!”

Lewis didn’t know what Bruce was saying to him really, all of his attention was on his cock, on how fucking good it felt to be back in Bruce’s hole again, the…the best fuckhole the company had, really. Lewis was getting close, and he finally came, ramming his cock in deep, and filling Bruce up with a massive load. It was enough that Bruce’s own cock started to spasm, and he shot his own load against the front of the desk. Lewis felt some of his mind coming back to him–but less than there had been, and he blinked, trying to make sense of what he was doing, and why.

“Lewis, get down here and clean up this mess,” Bruce said, as he slid the plug back into his hole with a groan, pointing at the cum dripping down the desk. 

Lewis looked around for something to use–but Bruce grabbed him by the hair, got him on his knees, and made him lick it up, rubbing it in his face, telling him he should get used to being a cumrag too. Fuckbeasts needed to be multiuse, after all. Once that was finished, Bruce left, telling Lewis he’d be back once his day was done for another round, and left him there in the office, face covered in cum, his own cock still rock hard, trying to piece together his thoughts as best he could, but it was a struggle. He stood up, and in the mirror he saw that his uniform seemed tighter. Or maybe he’d grown…more muscular? Taller? He had more hair on his arms, and his stubble seemed thicker. It looked…good though, didn’t it? More like how he was supposed to look?

He went back out and sat down at his desk, cum drying slowly across his face, still thinking about Bruce’s ass. He…there was a reason he wasn’t supposed to fuck him, wasn’t there? But for the life of him, he couldn’t remember it. It probably wasn’t important. Instead, he just counted the hours, groping himself until Bruce came back downstairs, and this time, Lewis was more than ready. As soon as they were in the office he had his cock in Bruce’s hole, eager to cum again, eager to fuck, his head draining more and more with every load–but he was too stupid to realize that, wasn’t he? He was just a fuckbeast–and fuckbeasts didn’t need to think, after all. That’s what Bruce said…and he thought Kyle had said something like that too. They were both right, in any case, they were always right.


“I don’t…I shouldn’t…why you bring me up here, Bruce?”

“Cause I need your help, dumbfuck! Now shut up and follow me.”

It had been a week since Lewis had raped Bruce in his office, and ever since, Bruce had noticed that his body was…well, it wasn’t right. Every time he fucked Bruce’s hot hole, and filled it with another load of cum, he was changing more and more. Not only was it getting harder and harder to think each time he did it, his body was warping as well. His clothes weren’t fitting as well anymore. His uniform shirts were too tight across his shoulders and down his arms. Yesterday, he accidentally ripped one open down the side, and lost a button, so he was trying to be extra careful today. His pants were just as tight, no thanks to his cock either. It was eleven inches when hard now, and seemed to be hard all the damn time. He either had to force it painfully down one leg, or run it up his front. No matter what he did, his bulge could be seen across the room. He couldn’t fit his boots anymore–and today he’d forgotten them altogether, meaning he was wandering the halls barefoot, and even more self-conscious because of it.

Bruce, on the other hand, was wearing almost nothing at all–just a jockstrap, leather vest, and a pair of boots on his feet. Despite the strange outfit, no one they passed on the floor seemed to mind much–some of them still looking like businessmen, though quite a few of them were…well, they seemed to fit in about as well as Bruce and Lewis did right now. Bruce waddled off down the hallway–over the last week, he’d lost around six inches off his height, putting him around five foot four, and gained a good amount of weight, most of it going right to his fat, jiggling ass framed by that jockstrap. Lewis did his best to keep himself under control, but he would have followed that ass anywhere, whether he wanted to or not. 

It was clear that Bruce was looking for someone. They stopped by a cubicle first, but whoever it was wasn’t there. They headed down the hall next, peeking in the men’s bathroom along the way, and then headed for the breakroom. It was along the way that Bruce saw who he was looking for–a man named James, who worked a couple of cubicles down from him. James, yesterday, had refused to fuck Bruce’s ass. No one refused to fuck Bruce–if he wanted you to fuck him, that meant your pants were down, and you were inside him without a second thought, but James…well, James had said no. He didn’t want to fuck his hole, he didn’t like what was happening to him, he just wanted to go back to normal! Well Bruce was going to have something to say about that, and with a little help from Lewis, he had a feeling James would be seeing things his way soon enough. 

James was preoccupied, and didn’t notice Bruce for a moment, but when he looked up and saw him, his face went pale, he turned around, and started running in the opposite direction.

“God damn it, Lewis, catch him!”

It took Lewis a moment to realize Bruce had spoken to him. He hesitated for a moment, not sure what to do, but then started running after James. That was enough that the seams of his uniform started giving way, and he was running in tatters after him. They turned a corner, and he saw him slip through a doorway and into a conference room.

He waited at the doorway for Bruce to catch up, not sure what to do, and Bruce just scowled at him, and pushed into the room where James was cowering. “Bruce, what the fuck man? Why the fuck can’t you just leave me alone?”

“No one says fucking no to me, James. Now get the fuck up and fuck my ass, or else my friend Lewis here is going to fuck your ass instead, and trust me, with the size of his cock, you aren’t going to enjoy it nearly as much as I do.”

James was looking left to right, wondering how he might get past the both of them. Now that he wasn’t chasing him, Lewis had a chance to see him in more detail. He was like them–or rather, he wasn’t like the normal businessmen moving through the halls, who had ignored them entirely. He wasn’t wearing a suit–he had on a black polo shirt and bleached jeans. His head and face were both shaven clean, making him look a bit like a cueball–one with a few piercings, through his ears and his nose. He looked a bit like a skinhead almost–but he didn’t quite have the…demeanor. 

“Kyle knows you stopped jacking off, James. He’s not happy with you, and he told me that I was to help you along with your progress, using any means necessary. If that means I have to let Lewis here fuck you into submission first, then so be it–or you can be a good little skinpig, and slide that meat of yours right in my nice little hole.”

James looked from Bruce, and then to Lewis, and he made a break for it around the other side of the table from where Lewis was.

“God damn it, you stupid fuck, don’t just stand there, stop him!”

Lewis hurried around the other direction, and slammed into James as he got to the door, tackling him to the ground. James tried to shove him off, but Lewis was so much stronger than him now. He hadn’t…really realized how big he’d gotten, but he rolled James onto his stomach, pinned his arms at his sides, and started…rubbing his cock against his ass. He hadn’t fucked anyone other than Bruce in the last week–that had been enough…but what would James’ ass feel like, he wondered? It wasn’t as fat as Bruce’s, not at all, and it would probably be…tight. He thought back to that first time he’d fucked Bruce, how hard it had been, to get into him, but how good it had felt, feeling that tight hole trying to force him back out. He was grinding now, rutting against the James’ ass, James begging and pleading with him to let him go, but Lewis…didn’t want to let him go. He wanted to fuck him, he wanted to bury his big fucking cock as deep as he could, he wanted to hear him scream in pain, he wanted to cum inside him, fuck did he ever.

“God damn it Lewis, get off him,” Bruce said.

“But…but I’m so fuckin’…I wanna fuck Bruce, come on…”

“You can fuck him, but I want that cock in me when you do.”

Bruce thought that sounded fair. James shouted and struggled, but Bruce bent over the side of the table, Lewis shoved James against him with his pants down, cock against Bruce’s hole, and then started forcing his own cock into Jame’s hole, while he struggled between them. 

“Fuck Bruce, tighter than you was that one time…” Lewis said, and laughed, grunting as he worked the head in, James screaming and begging now, but as more and more of Lewis’ cock slid inside him, his own cock was hardening against his will, and Bruce started bucking back, James’ cock slipping right into his hole.

“Yeah, that’s it James. All of this could have been so much easier, but if I need the office fuckbeast to literally fuck the cum out of you to get it into my guts, well, then that’s what I’m going to fucking do.”

“Oh god, oh fuck, it fucking hurts!”

“Yeah, don’t think that hole is going to be going back to normal after this, you skinpig. Lewis back there doesn’t just fuck holes, he fucking wrecks them for good. You’re going to be crawling back to him every day, begging for more, you won’t be able to fucking help it, you’ll want to be impaled on his cock all the time. I mean, look at me, that fucker raped me one day, and I’ve had to get fucked by him twice a day ever since, or I don’t feel right. But that ain’t all–you’ve been a bad boy, James, and so he’s going to have to fuck your brains out, isn’t that right, Lewis?”

Lewd grunted and moaned, but whether he was even listening, no one knew.

“Yeah, he’s gonna fuck you so hard you cum, and when you do, you’re gonna blow your brains right out into my ass, James. No more fighting for you, you’re going to be one stupid ass faggot skinhead when we’re through with you, because that’s what the boss fucking wants, got it?”

James was trying harder to squirm out, but he was sandwiched between them, unable to pry himself free. HIs hole was still screaming, but as Lewis worked the rest of his cock inside him, something…broke. Or shifted. His hole gave way and opened up, and he gave a sigh of pleasure, and there was no more resistance. Lewis hauled his cock out to the head and then plunged all eleven inches in deep, his pubes against James’ ass, and the man just groaned in delight. “Fuck, my…my fuckin’ ass Mate, what the fuck ya do to my fuckin’ hole!”

Lewis just hammered in deeper, grunting and snorting, all of his muscles throbbing, and James lost himself in it too, in Bruce’s loose hole almost sucking him off, tugging at his own cock, sending him into a cascade of shivers as his hole and cock were milked, his mind unable to grapple with the assault at both ends. Lewis drove in all the way, and came, and the throb of the massive cock inside him was enough to make James cum as well, and just as Bruce had promised, he could feel his brains draining out his cock in one of the most massive loads that James had ever experienced, the light from his eyes dimming, mouth open and drooling, still mindlessly fucking Bruce’s hole until the fuckhole came as well, coating the floor under the table with his load of cum.

Lewis stumbled back with a grunt, and started tearing the rest of the uniform off. Why was he wearing that? He didn’t need clothes. He…He was a fuckbeast, after all. Too stupid to wear clothes, his massive cock hanging out, something to be feared my most, and desired by a rare few around the office. When he stepped away, James tottered there for a moment, and then slumped down in a heap, eyes still open and staring up at the ceiling, mouth drooling. Bruce turned around and looked down at him, now quite a bit chubbier, his face uglier, tattoos running up his arms that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “Fuck Lewd, I think ya fucked a few too much of his brains into me.”

It took him a moment to realize what Bruce had called him–he’d said Lewd–but that was a good name for him, wasn’t it? For a stupid fuckbeast like him. “I…I just fucked ‘em, Bruce…like ya said. I only got one kinda fuckin’.”

“I know Lewd, you did a real good job. You’re a good fuckbeast, and I think we make a pretty good team.”

Lewd’s face lit up at the compliment. Bruce wasn’t nice to him very often, so that meant he must have done really well.

“Alright, I think I can fix this a bit, grab him by the arms and follow me.”

Lewd did as he was told, hauled James up by the armpits, and dragged him along with them, back out of the conference room. Bruce led the way down the hall, still a bit…amazed at the fact that so many people were just ignoring them–him, close to 350 pounds, his ass wider than most of the doorways in the building, dribbling cum as he went. Lewd, easily six foot two now, hairy as a beast and stinking like one too, nearly naked aside from a few tatters of a uniform clinging to his muscular arms and torso, foot long cock already rock hard again. And James–now looking even more the part of the burly skinhead, still just drooling and staring into the distance with a dumb grin on his face. Bruce led the way into the bathroom they’d passed by earlier, and had Lewd drag James over to the urinals, where they propped him up against the wall. Once he was secure there, and not going to sag over, Bruce pushed Lewd to the side, pulled his jockstrap to one side, and started pissing all over James’ face.

“It ain’t quite as good as cum-for-brains, but a little bit of piss oughta wake this stupid skinpig up.”

He stepped closer, aiming for James’ mouth, and watched as his co-worker started to come back alive, slowly, gulping down the piss, moaning and rubbing the rest of it into his clothes. “F-Fuck mate, what the fuckin’ hell happened?” he muttered slowly, like he was still trying to find all of the words.

“Don’t worry about it J.J.–I just had Lewd here fuck your brains out.”

“That…Is that why thinkin’s so hard? Thought…I could think more before.”

“You don’t need to fucking think, J.J., that’s what got you into trouble before. Don’t worry, we brought you back to your office for you.”

“But…ain’t this the bathroom?”

“Sure is, but you’re the office urinal, aren’t you? This is where you belong pig, just a stupid, piss swilling skinhead pig. Doesn’t that sound hot?”

“I…I don’t know, I–”

“Lewd, piss on the stupid pig, would you?”

Lewd nodded, stepped up, pointed his hard cock right at J.J.’s face, and let loose a fast stream that hit him right in the mouth, and J.J. moaned.

“Aww, fuck man, yer piss fuckin’…strong fuckin’ hell, tastes fuckin’ amazin’.”

Lewd stepped closer, and shoved the head right into J.J.’s mouth, the skinhead hauling out his own cock and stroking it, feeling the rest of Lewd’s piss settling in his gut, feeling it…expand almost, fuck, he was blowing up like a piss filled balloon. He…knew he shouldn’t do it, that there was some important reason not to cum, but he was too horny to care–he came all over himself, and as he did, Bruce watched him shift again. His gut did balloon out, like someone had shoved a massive water balloon under his polo shirt. His shirt shifted too, becoming black and yellow rubber. The tattoos spread further, all of them rearranging themselves around J.J.’s new occupation as the office urinal. 

Lewd finished his stream, and pulled the head of his cock free, J.J. licking his lips. “Fuck Lewd, ya’s got the nastiest piss a the whole buildin’ come feed me anytime. Gonna need another fuck on yer huge fuckstick too, my, fuck, my hole ain’t never gonna be the same from that, but I don’ care…”

“Tell you what, J.J.,” Bruce said, “You be a good urinal today, suck down ten loads of piss and blow that cock of yours twice more, and I’ll make sure Lewd comes back in here tonight and fucks you before quitting time, how’s that sound?”

“Fuck Bruce, sounds fuckin’ hot…”

“Alright, you get to work now–I’ll be back to check on you soon.”

J.J. nodded, and Bruce and Lewd left the bathroom and stood in the hallway. Lewd…knew he should feel bad, that what he did was wrong, somehow, but…but he was finding it hard to care. He’d liked it. Liked how tight that hole was, liked fucking the brains out of him, turning him into a drooling idiot like he was. “Bruce…anybody else I can fuck ‘round here? I’s horny again.”

“Hell Lewd, you can always fuck me, you know that,” Bruce said, and braced himself against the wall in the hall.

Lewd nodded, “Yeah…but someone…tight.”

Bruce leered at Lewd. “Oh, sounds like someone liked that little scene.”

Lewd nodded. 

“Alright, I think I know who else we can visit. Come on fuckbeast, let’s put you to work.”


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