Frat Daddy: Interlude #4 (Mike and the Pig)

This is another Frat Daddy commission, this time looking for a followup to Mike’s last interlude. If you’re interested in a commission like this, it’s $70 dollars for 3000 words, a $20 discount! You can find more details here.


Mike managed. That’s what his life became, after his weekend with Daddy. He managed the pig inside him, found himself weighing every urge, every thought, every fantasy, trying to separate what was him, from the pig that he was certain was growing inside of him at every moment. Was he hungry because he actually was hungry, or because the pig wanted him fatter? Better avoid the dining hall, just in case, but he’d find the hunger overwhelming him in the middle of the night instead, going downstairs into the kitchen, devouring a shake, and then another, desperate for something to fill him up. Was he exhausted and avoiding a workout because the pig wanted him lazy, or because he hadn’t slept well in days? Best to workout harder. Or did it want him to workout so he’d get sweaty and even more rank than he was? Best to avoid the gym altogether, go grab something to eat, sit at his desk trying to focus on school work. Did he want to hang out with the brothers in the house, or did the pig just want to smell them? They all smelled so different, so wonderful, but every sniff was a temptation he couldn’t afford. Best to be alone–but maybe the pig wanted him alone, wanted him isolated? Then he couldn’t avoid his own stink, and he’d find himself on his bed, arms up, snorting up his own musk, his cock hard and leaking, but he couldn’t cum without fucking, and fucking was too dangerous–far, far too dangerous. Dangerous because the other boys could never know about him, about what was wrong with him. If they knew–what would they think of him? What…what would they do with him if they knew? He could picture it, all of them gathered around him, nowhere for him to escape, forced to smell their pits, their crotches, their feet, their underwear. Drink their piss, drink their cum, eat out their asses, reduced to an animal, to a slave, to a fucking, nasty pig!

Coming back from that moment was always difficult. He’d be so lost in these fantasies, slipping between the boundary between nightmare, reality, and desire than when he found his way back to himself, he wasn’t quite the person he’d been before he’d gotten lost. A few pounds here and there, his nose suddenly turned up, his balls bigger and leaking cum all the time, his pits reeking more than before, bristly hair all over his shoulders and back. How on earth was he going to stop this? After a week, he went back to Daddy and begged him to fix him, but Daddy just shook his head.

He said to Mike, “You’re afraid, I understand that. But fear is your enemy here. What are you really afraid of? The pig, or something else?”

Mike had asked him what that meant, but Daddy just smiled, gave him a light tap on the cheek with his gloved hand, and smiled at him. “You’ll figure it out–you boys usually do in the end.”

Mike didn’t have the same reluctant faith in himself that Daddy did, but since he wasn’t giving him any real help, Mike turned somewhere else–his friend, and fellow frat brother, Jake.

Jake and Mike had been friends for a long time. They’d even gone to the same high school together, rushed at the same time, and were in the same major and most of the same classes. Jake, however, had always outclassed Mike, at least in terms of looks, athletics and girls. Jake was on the swim team, perfectly toned year round, while Mike had always had a bit of a paunch and bulk, thanks to his years on the football team. Jake could be a bit of a pompous asshole…but he was the only one that Mike felt he could trust with this. So one day after class, Mike pulled Jake aside before they got back to the house, and explained what had happened when he’d gone to stay with Daddy that weekend, and the current curse he was suffering from.

“Fuck man, that shit’s heavy,” Jake said, when Mike had finished his story, “I’d just assumed you were going queer like the rest of them, and that’s why you were acting so fucking strange the last few weeks.”

“I’m not gay!” Mike said, “I mean, I don’t…want to be. I don’t want to smell my pits either! But like today, I was so busy smelling them that I missed the shower, and–”

“Fuck bro, I don’t want the details!”

“I’m sorry, I just…who else can I talk to about this? Can…can you help me?”

“What you need, man, is pussy. I’ve been slipping out at night, you know, heading over to Gamma Pi–those chicks know how to fuck. Come along tonight–we’ll sort you out.”

The thought of fucking a woman turned his stomach–and the thought of a woman seeing him like…like this…no, that wasn’t going to work. He shook his head. “No, come on, that’s not even the issue here!”

“Well, then you’re just going to have to man up then! Come on–I can think of something to try.”

They went home together, and down into the gym. Mike hadn’t been down here in a few weeks, not since he’d caught a whiff of himself on the bench press, and nearly dropped the bar on himself. It showed on his figure–the shakes were piling on the pounds, now that he’d stopped trying to work them off. “I…I can’t do this,” Mike said, “I’ll stink too much.”

“Pussy, get on the fucking bench–I’ll spot you.”

Mike shook his head.

Jake sighed. “Spot me then.”

Mike did, following Jake around while he did a quick circuit of a few machines, working up a good sweat–then he lifted up an arm, and shoved it in Mike’s face. Mike backed away as fast as he could, until he hit a wall, Jake following him. “What the fuck man? What are you doing?”

“If you lick my pit, you fucking pathetic faggot, I am going to bend you over that bench and fuck you–is that what you want?”

“No!”

“Then don’t do it.”

Mike tried as hard as he could to resist, but the pig shoved his face forward, and he sucked the fresh sweat from Jake’s pit–and his friend, shoved him over the bench, hauled the plug from his hole, and fucked him–hard. “I’m doing this because I want you to get better, bro,” Jake said as he plowed him, “So we’re gonna have to give you some negative reinforcement. Learned this one in psych class.”

And so, Mike found himself with a new kind of torment. Jake would invent all kinds of reasons to get him alone, confront him with some new stench, and if Mike gave in, Jake would fuck him and humiliate him for it. Mike always gave in. Worse still, Mike was beginning to wonder if he enjoyed the treatment. Worse than that, he was starting to think that Jake might be enjoying it most of all. He was straight, or so he said, but he’d always had a thing for ass–as Mike had found out one night in high school after they’d both gotten a bit too drunk. Jake had apologized…but had he meant it, really? Had Mike been asking for it, like Jake had said? 

The darkness was getting harder and harder to avoid, and his own perversions were growing more and more intense. He couldn’t bear to shower now, just like Daddy had said would happen. He’d gained so much weight he needed a new jockstrap, after the other one started cutting into his chubby hips. Sleep was impossible. The dreams were too intense, and the boys were asking too many questions about why he would wake up snorting and squealing and screaming in the night. So he’d retreat downstairs to the gym, enjoy the fading musk of the boys’ evening workout, usually with a pilfered shoe of Jake’s. He wouldn’t know, he was busy sneaking out every night fucking some pussy when…when he had a perfectly good pig to use here, right? Daddy found him like that, sitting on the floor, face shoved in his brother’s shoe, snorting and stoking on edge. 

“When’s the last time you came, boy?” Daddy asked.

Mike snorted in surprise, and fumbled the sneaker to the floor, face red with embarrassment. “Daddy, I wasn’t–”

“When’s the last time you came.”

He hadn’t been able to fuck anyone since he’d visited Daddy, and that was the only time they could cum, so… “Not…since that night, with you.”

“No wonder you’re so pent up.”

The tears were welling up before he could do anything about it, and he started sobbing there on the gym floor. “I’m…I’m scared, Daddy,” he said, “I don’t want to be a pig. I don’t want to want to be a pig. And Jake, he’s just making it all worse, and he’s supposed to be my friend, and I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m tired, Daddy, I’m so tired of fighting it.”

“Then don’t.”

Mike looked up at him.

“Stop fighting it. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Mike couldn’t believe Daddy would say something so cruel to him. He knew what could happen. He knew!

“I know you’re worried, boy. I know this is new for you, and scary. But it’s not the pig controlling you, it’s your fear.”

“I don’t…what are you talking about?”

“Tell you what,” Daddy said, and stood back up. “Come spend the night with me. Or, spend the night with that sneaker, again. Don’t think I haven’t heard you in here the last few nights with that thing already. I’m surprised you haven’t sucked all the stink out of it by now. It’s up to you–but you’ll only have a chance to cum with one of those options–and you know which one.”

Daddy turned around and walked back down the tunnel to his home. Mike sat there for a minute, looking from the tunnel to the shoe and back again. He could smell Daddy on the air now, fresher than the workout musk from earlier, and his mouth watered, his cock drooled. He got up, and followed Daddy down the tunnel, and found him in the dungeon on the other end, waiting for him. He was wearing just a pair of briefs, nothing else, and from where Mike was standing, he’d been wearing them for a few days–maybe…maybe a week. They stood there, facing one another, until Mike finally muttered, “Is…can I…” but the words died on his lips.

“Is there something you want, boy?” Daddy asked him. “Come and get it, or go back to the shoe–your choice.”

“I…but what if…I get stuck?”

“Stuck as what?”

“As a pig! What if…I don’t come back as me!”

“So what if you don’t?” Daddy said, and took a step forward, stretching his arms up and putting them behind his head, “So what if you end up as a filthy, fat, stinking pig down in my dungeon, locked in a cage heaped with my filthy clothing? So what if I only let you out in the evenings so you can crawl down the tunnel and go clean up all the good little boys after their workout? So what? What if you really do want that, boy? What if it isn’t the pig you’ve been hearing all this time? What if it’s just you?”

Mike stepped back, turned toward the tunnel, but before he could run Daddy grabbed hold of his wrist, tugged him back, and pulled his face into his pit, feeling Mike relax against him and start licking, sighing with relief, and Daddy pushed down on his shoulders, guiding him down his pecs and chest to his crotch, Mike burying his face in the stained briefs, snorting and grunting in heat, cock rock hard and aching. “Oh fuck Daddy, oh fuck you smell so fucking good Sir…”

“That’s it boy, you enjoy that,” Daddy said, and dropped the briefs to the floor. Mike grabbed then and shoved them to his face, snorting happily, while Daddy went to the wall of the dungeon, and came back with thicker collar than the boys usually wore. After taking off Mike’s thin one, He snatched the briefs from Mike’s hands, pulled them over his face, and secured the  bigger collar tight around his neck with the waistband tucked past it, pulling the briefs tight over his face, blinding and hooding him. 

Mike was terrified at first, tried to rip the briefs off his face, but Daddy grabbed his hands and held them behind his back, shushing in his ear, bringing him back down out of the terror. “That’s it boy, just relax, just let it all out. You’re so horny, aren’t you? Don’t you want to cum?” Daddy lifted one of Mike’s arms and sniffed his pit, and then licked it. “Oh, what a naughty pigboy–you’ve been skipping showers, haven’t you? And you’re getting so fat now–too nervous working out with your brothers? Worried their musk would distract you?” Daddy groped his gut, and Mike moaned and muttered something unintelligible. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that, boy. You just focus on this,” Daddy said, and tore open a hole large enough for Mike’s mouth in the seat of the briefs over his face. “You just worship Daddy, enjoy it.”

He guided his mouth down to his pit again, and Mike happily licked at them, lost in the pleasure of it now, hungry for more. Daddy guided him from one pit to the other, then down lower, having the boy worship his cock and crotch for a while, and then down to his feet. Once he was satisfied, Daddy rolled over, pushed his ass into Mike’s face–and the boy balked. “I…Daddy, I–”

“Boy–what are you?”

“I…I’m a pig, Daddy,” Mike said, surprised by how good the admission felt after so many weeks of denial.

“Then eat my ass like a good pig. Doesn’t it smell good and ripe?”

Mike gave it a tentative lick, and then dove it, probing Daddy’s hole with his tongue, giving the hairy crack long, loving licks from bottom to top, his own cock hard and aching in his hands, drooling precum all over the floor. “Please Daddy, please let me cum…” he muttered.

“Boys only get to cum in a hole, isn’t that right?”

Mike whimpered a bit–there was no one here for him to fuck…right? Had…had Daddy meant…should he…

“What are you, boy?”

“I’m a pig Daddy.”

“Are you a fucking pig, boy? A manly, burly, fat, hairy, stinking pig fucker?”

Mike was panting now, unable to take it. He raised up, felt with his hand, lined his cock up with Daddy’s loosened hole and drove it inside.

“Fuck yeah, you fucking pig! Give it to Daddy!”

“Fuck yeah, I’m a fucking pig!”

“That’s it boy, this is what you fucking wanted, isn’t it?”

“I’m a fucking pig, I’m a big, fat, stinking pig fucker!” Mike shouted, and his cock unloaded deep in Daddy’s hole. The orgasm felt like it lasted an hour, burst after burst of pleasure he’d resisted for so long overwhelming him, until he finally felt himself come down, exhausted and aching and happy and relaxed, and He slid free of Daddy’s hole. He came around, pulled his boy into a hug, and held him, Mike nuzzling into the base of Daddy’s neck, smelling his musk there, licking a bit, happier now than he could remember being…ever, perhaps. 

“That was great boy, you did great.”

“T-Thank you Daddy…”

“Come on, stand up now–I want you to see something.”

Daddy helped Mike up, and he was a bit unsteady for reasons he couldn’t quite figure out at first. He assumed he was just disoriented, from the briefs still pulled down over his head, but when Daddy pulled them free, Mike saw…something else, in the mirror in front of him. It was him–he recognized him, but he was…different. Taller and broader, more muscular across his back and shoulders. Below that, a thick gut stuck out, almost like a beach ball. He was coated with hair, matted in sweat, a thicker beard growing higher up his face than it had before, and his cock! It…fuck, it was bigger than Jake’s now, and Jake had always been quick to point out the difference before. 

“What do you think, boy? You make a pretty fine pig, don’t you think?”

“Fuck Daddy, I…I mean…”

“Just say yes, boy.”

Mike gulped. “Yes, Sir. Thank you Daddy, for letting me, uh…”

“Thank you for servicing my hole, fuck pig–I’d been wondering who the first boy would be to have the honor.”

Mike blushed with pride, and then he realized he was missing something–the fear…it was gone. It had evaporated, and all that remained was a deep relief, and he nearly collapsed from it, but Daddy caught him before he could hit the ground. “Come on boy, let’s get to bed.”

“Wait, I…Daddy, I have something to say,” he said, and turned to face him, head hung low. “I’m sorry for my behavior before. What I said–I allowed my…fear to control me, and I insulted you. You were right. And you were right, that one day I’d understand what to apologize for. I think…you’re probably right about everything.”

Daddy chuckled, “I wouldn’t go that far, boy–now come on.”

Mike nodded, and allowed Daddy to help him upstairs to his room, where they slept together, and Mike had the most peaceful night of sleep in ages.

The next day, when Mike returned to the house, after the communal shower, stinking of sweat and cum and sex, looking beefy and fat and hairy and rough, with a massive bulge in the pouch of his jock, no one knew what to say. Mike threw a wink at Carter across the room, who nodded, glad that he’d finally understood what Daddy could offer. And later, when Jack confronted him, accused him of giving in, of becoming a faggot, Mike didn’t have anything to say to him–he just threw him against the wall, hauled out his plug, and shoved his big pig cock up his brother’s hole. This one would get what was coming to him, Mike thought, sooner or later. But Mike didn’t have to worry about him anymore. He knew what he was now–he was a fuckpig. And this boy was just an asshole–and he knew just what to do with an asshole, didn’t he?

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