Author: wesleybracken8258

We met through a mutual friend, one night, at a poker game. His name was Ed, and we got on pretty well. We were taking a break from the game, out on the porch, smoking–me a cigar, him a cigarette–when he told me he wished he could quit. So I mentioned my hobby, that I was a bit of a hypnotist, and that, if he wanted, I could practice on him, and help him break his habit.

Now, you should know, I’m a sucker for guys like Ed, and I also am a sucker for smokers, so…I may have had no intention of helping him, really. Of course, I can’t just make someone gay, you know, but Ed…well, he was setting off my berdar a bit, and he had a girlfriend but, well, under hypnosis the truth would come out. If it turned out to be hopeless, I’d help, but if I could take advantage of him? Well, for a face like that, I might do a lot of things.

So he came over a week later, and I put him under. Sure enough, he’s bisexual at the very least, though deep in the closet all the same. That won’t last too long, however, and I put my scheme into action. When he wakes up, I tell him that I’ve made it so he’ll be unable to bring himself to buy cigarettes, or borrow them from anyone–the only place he’ll be able to get them is from me– and I’ll control his intake so he’ll be forced to quit. Of course, what I didn’t tell him, was that I’d just made his nicotine addiction quite a bit stronger than it had been…so he’d be coming over a lot, and he’d be willing to do pretty much anything to get a cigarette from me.

We started off easy, and I put him under a few more times, making him comfortable around me, making him trust me, making him enjoy my presence and my touch. It wasn’t long before he was stripping for cigarettes, and after a month, he resorted to his first blowjob in exchange for five. Tonight? Well, as you can see, he got one for a down payment, and he’ll get an entire pack once I fill his ass. Still, I think he’ll be upgrading soon enough–I much prefer my men to smoke cigars, and Ed’s already starting to loosen up and push back, so I don’t think there will be too much resistance from him in the future.

Dale’s Story (Part 8)

Well, options one and three were pretty much even, and I think I have a better idea that can pull them both together, so why don’t we go with that?

“Hell,” Dale said, “I wouldn’t mind gettin’ mah hands on a couple a Bishop’s friends, who were always assholes tah me. Bet we can find ‘em at George’s bar, right ‘bout now, too.”

The stranger grinned, “Sounds good tah me. I had plans there last night, which I put off after running intah you anyway. I’ll see ya there in a few, then,” he said.

“We can jus’ drive over tahgether, I got mah…truck?” Dale said, but when he looked back where the stranger had been standing outside the barn a moment before, he had disappeared. Dale looked back at the farmer and Bishop, rutting over the trough, and he made a few final tweaks to his brother’s mind. He’d always remember who they’d both been, but he’d find it impossible to tell anyone the truth. He also made it so that, even though this new Bishop would always love anything his master did to him, deep inside, he’d never be able to get rid of his shame, especially of his size. Lastly, he buried a few…extreme thoughts in Bishop’s new master’s head, some new ideas of what he could do with, and two, his new pigslave. Dale had a feeling he’d be in for a few wild rides, and whole lot more, soon enough. Satisfied with himself, he lumbered back to his truck and climbed in, started her up, and drove off back into town, pulling into the parking lot of George’s bar half an hour later…only it wasn’t quite the bar he remembered it being.

The building was bigger for one thing, and when he went inside, he discovered that the exterior wasn’t the only thing that had shifted. The walls were lined with all sorts of fetish equipment around the bar, and a set of stairs led down into an a darkened series of halls and nooks. The bar was full, and George was madly serving drinks wearing nothing more than a leather vest, chaps and a jockstrap, like everything was perfectly normal. Looking around, he also saw that, while the gender ratio usually was about 50/50, tonight every guy in town was here–hell, more like every guy from the three closest towns. And there the stranger was, at the bar, just like the night before.

He saw Dale gawking at the entrance, got up, and walked over, chuffing smoke from his pipe. “What do ya think? Not too bad, right?”

“Fuck, you fucking…” Dale said, and looked around, “I mean, are they all…gay now?”

“Eh, they all will be by the end of the night. If you change too much at once, there can be…issues at times. Still, we’re going to have a nice little town here, I think–we’re all going to have a whole lot of fun.” He reached out and tweaked one of Dale’s nipples–he flinched, and then looked down, discovering his clothes had shifted as well, and he was wearing just a pair of rubber overalls and some waders on his feet. “Love a big man in rubber,” he added, leaned in and they shared a smoky kiss for a few moments, before the strange pulled back. “Anyway, the guys you mentioned are over there,” he indicated with his pipe the two young men sitting at a table, sipping beers, chatting and laughing like nothing had changed at all. Dale looked around, and saw a few more familiar faces–his two boys were sucking on each other’s faces in a corner, halfway out of their coveralls already, and he also noticed his dad–or rather, the man who’d been his dad, sitting alone on a barstool, looking a bit lonely. His dad had never been a bad guy, and he’d been pretty broken up ever since his wife left a few years back, but he’d done his best. Maybe he could help him out too.

He walked over to the two young men, already slipping into their minds, and as soon as he got to the table and sat down, both of them men got up, came around, and started licking and sucking at his fat, kneading his gut through the rubber stretched over his massive frame. They were both fighting as hard as they could, disgusted at what they were doing, but also unable to stop themselves, Dale stroking their hair and considering his options.

So, what should Dale do with these two young men?

  1. He makes himself a couple of muscle bound slaves for him and his sons to use and abuse around the shop.
  2. They’d be cute as a couple of puppy dogs–one for him and his boys, and one for his old dad, to keep him company.
  3. His dad could use a couple of sons to replace the ones he’s lost, but he has a feeling these two will be in for a whole lot of abuse.
  4. George is looking a bit understaffed–he decides to make them both into a couple of sexy waiters for the whole bar to enjoy.

So, what would you like to see happen next?

Pig Bros (Part 4)

WARNING: Bestiality, herm TF

“Ethan! What the hell are you–” he said, but had the wind knocked out of him as Ethan tackled him to the floor…and Avery smelled him. God, he wanted him, he wanted him so badly, his body wanted him, but…but he did too. He wasn’t even fighting as Ethan rolled him over onto his belly, lined up that freakish cock and slipped it into his ass. The pleasure that hit him was massive, all of the pent up honrniness of the entire week crashing into him as surge after surge of pleasure, pleasure at finally being mounted, like he needed to be! He started to cum, at last, and while it felt amazing, it also hurt–his balls contracting so hard with each pulse of cum leaving him that they ached in his gut. Ethan didn’t notice–he just kept rutting, and while that sow had felt good, his brother’s ass felt amazing. No wonder Daddy liked boars better–he had a feeling he’d be riding his brother a whole lot more in the future, provided Daddy gave him permission.

Beneath him, Avery’s cock kept pulsing, a massive puddle of cum growing beneath him, and as it did, he felt his body…shifting. Odd sensations up and down his front, as three more rows of nipples appeared on his massive gut, all of them incredibly sensitive, more so than even his cock, but not as much as his ass had become. He felt so good, submitting like this. He liked to submit. He needed to submit. He was meant to be ridden, to be taken, to be controlled. With a final heave, Ethan slammed in deep and came inside Avery’s ass, his balls aching even worse, something strange happening in his groin, his body…shifting, leaving him both exhausted and satisfied, as his brother collapsed onto him, musky and sweaty…but there was another stench on him. Someone else, that same person he could almost remember.

“Fuck, could lay here all night, but let’s get you out of here before the whole campus sees us.”

Avery wanted to know where, he wanted to know what was going on, what had happened to his body, but his brother put on his overalls again, and let Avery out of the dorm naked, on his hands and knees, to a waiting truck. Avery could smell the person in the driver’s seat–it was a familiar scent, and he wanted to see who it was, but his brother forced him into the back bed, while Ethan rode in the cab, and they drove off in the dawn light.

Avery’s head had cleared a bit by the time they arrived at the pig farm–the chill of the morning air had helped ease some of the desire from him, and as much as he tried to explore his body on the ride…he found it rather difficult. His…arms seemed shorter, or he was simply so fat he couldn’t reach far enough down to reach his cock, much less his balls. They pulled up alongside the large barn, and Avery demanded an explanation, but Ethan just ordered him out of the truck, and led him into the barn, where the driver, Daddy, Avery assumed, had entered. The two of them forced him into a pen too small for him to turn around in, and the massive farmer came around in front. “Ya can go ahead ‘n remember me now.”

The scene at the bar returned to him, and Avery squealed, trying to escape from the pen, while both Ethan and Daddy squealed and snorted with laughter. “Ethan! Ethan, you have to stop this! Snap out of it!”

“Don’t mind the sow, little boar,” Daddy said, pulling Ethan close and giving him a sloppy kiss that Ethan eagerly returned, “He just hasn’t had a proper dicking yet, is all.”

“Can I do it Daddy? Please?” Ethan asked.

Daddy laughed, “No boy, we can’t have that–yer welcome tah his ass anytime ya like, though, n that fat snout a his too, a course. In fact, feed that brother a yers that big boar cock, while I introduce him tah his new sowhood.”

Avery tried to demand answers, but Ethan shoved his cock into his throat, forcing him to suck it, and then Daddy touched him where his balls should have been…but weren’t. Instead, he felt his rough, stubby fingers slip inside him, and he squealed with pleasure.

“Somebody like’s their new pussy, I see. Don’t worry, I’ll be fuckin’ ya plenty, little sow. Yer gonna have quite a few a mah litters, I think, how does that sound? Make that dick hard, thinking about me sowing my seed in yer new pigcunt?”

He forced himself inside Avery’s new pigcunt, and with that, he felt his entire resistance slip away, the soul sinking deep into his heart, and he accepted it. Welcomed it, actually. Eager to be fucked by his daddy…even excited that he could get pregnant with his piglets. And his brother, of course, with his own delicious boar cock, he thought, sucking and licking at the shaft in front of him. His brother might have to fuck sows for a living, but he knew that the hole he really wanted was Avery’s piggy ass. He felt the final changes sink in, his arms and legs shortening, hands and feet becoming trotters. His face was mostly human still, aside from floppy ears and a short snout, but Avery would be on all fours for the rest of his piggy life.

Ethan’s boar bristle filled in thicker, his face becoming more porcine than Avery’s, with a long snout and flat nose Daddy would eventually pierce with a thick ring. His feet changed into thick trotters, but he remained upright, rudimentary hands capable of wielding a few tools, but not much else, eyes dulling, no longer interested in anything beyond fucking and making his daddy boar happy. And the farmer looked down at them both, happy with the new additions to his farm, and knowing the rumours that would spread around the campus with their disappearance would remind the students who was really in charge around here.

Still taking votes on part seven of Dale’s Story! We’ll be wrapping the interactive up in the next few weeks I think, so come help me figure out the conclusion!

Another day, another workout. The locker room was always fairly deserted at this time of day, at least, and Ian walked across the room towards his locker, having just finished his shower. He didn’t have the easiest shift at work, but at least he usually had the gym to himself when he got off late–and he’d always been a bit of a night owl anyway. Even if there had been someone around, Ian had never been shy or ashamed of his body. He undid his lock and opened the door, only to be nearly knocked off his feet by the stench that rolled out of the small chamber when he did.

He coughed, tears streaming down his eyes. He’d never smelled anything like that before in his life. Had someone put something in his locker or something? What even was that? It didn’t smell rotten exactly, more like…well, it was hard to describe, but it was more like sweat and BO or something, but way more powerful than should be possible. Holding his breath, he pulled out his gym bag and opened it up, but his clothes weren’t in there–it looked like some strange, disgusting work gear or something, and now he could detect other scents in the powerful aroma he’d begun to breathe in a bit more deeply–beer, piss, smoke, cum.

His cock was hard, and he was stroking it. He pulled out a disgusting jockstrap, pressed it to his nose and snorted in the scent, finding himself craving it–and then hauled out a disgusting, mud crusted work boot, shoved it to his face and huffed in the powerful scent, his cock exploding all over the bench. 

“Sorry fer borrowin’ yer locker, pig, but I didn’ think ya’d mind.”

Ian looked over at the man who’d appeared at the entrance to the locker room, soaked in sweat, reeking with the same musk Ian now couldn’t imagine living without, and he ran over, shoving his face into his master’s pit and licking out as much sweat as he could get.

“Heh, prefer not tah shower after I workout, but suppose we can make an exeption tahnight.”

Pig Bros (Part 3)

Ethan squeezed into the booth, and the bartender immediately brought over a pitcher of beer and a platter of food. He was starving, even though he’d just eaten a few hours earlier, and stuffed his face with fries, guzzling beer right from the pitcher.

“Damn, lookin’ real fuckin’ good already, if I do say so mahself,” the farmer said, “How’s that brother a yers doin’? Been…smellin’ him much?”

“You…did this to us?….What the hell….is wrong with me…” Ethan managed to say through the food.

“Oh, I just gave you and yer asshole brother a new pair a souls is all. They’re eatin’ out yer old ones just like yer packin’ away those fries there.”

Ethan’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t stop himself from eating.

“Don’ trouble yerself none ‘bout it. Nothin’ ya can do about it now, besides enjoy it anyway. Still, I like ya boy, I like how ya smelled, and I definitely like how ya smellin’ now. Finish up those fries, ‘n let’s take a drive.”

The drive was delayed, because the farmer made Ethan make out with him for a bit in his truck, and then forced Ethan to suck his cock. He squealed at the sight, because it wasn’t human…but it smelled real good, and he was still hungry, and so he sucked at it until the farmer filled him up with a long squeal of pleasure, lolling for a bit. “Damn, hate drivin’ after a good cum like that–hard tah focus–” he huffed, started the truck, and drove off to the southwest, heading way out of town.

Ethan tried asking questions, but the farmer forbade him to speak after a couple, and so they rode in silence until they turned onto a gravel road, and pulled up next to a barn…and a scent caught Ethan off guard, his cock hardening in his pants. It was…kind of like that smell his brother had been putting out, but…stronger. The farmer watched as he let himself out, went into the barn, and found himself looking at a mass of pigs in a large pen.

“Go on, follow yer nose, stud…” the man said with a snort and a laugh, and Ethan followed it to a pen where one pig was off by itself–or rather, herself. “Been needin’ tah freshen up the gene pool a bit, ya see. Yer bro won’t be much help with that, but I think ya’ll fit the bill just fine…”

Ethan couldn’t stop himself from hauling is bulk over the pen, shucking off his pants, and driving his hard cock into the sow’s pussy, fucking away at her in the mud, hearing himself squealing and grunting as he rutted, but unable to stop himself. “Fuck…no! Please…” was all he managed, and then he gave in, snorting in time with his thrusts, as the farmer climbed in behind him.

“Course, I only really like the boars myself, like yer gonna be. Been kinda lonely around here lately, so I could use some company. Think ya’ll be sharin’ mah bed a whole lot, little boar–we’re gonna have lots a fun tahgether.” He came close pressing his bulk against Ethan’s back, pinning him deep in the sow, “Ya wanna feel daddy’s big cock in that boar hole a yers? Hell, of course ya do, even if ya don’t know it yet…”

The farmer’s cock was huge, and Ethan had never been fucked, but he was right–he did want it. He fucked the sow, and came deep, collapsing against her as the farmer rode his ass long and rough, and when he came as well, he dragged Ethan down into the mud below and rolled with him, Ethan lost in his daddy’s scent, listening to his daddy whisper in his ear, feeling his old self drift away even further, his new soul taking deeper root in his heart feeling himself and he embraced his new role as Daddy’s personal fuckboar.

Back on campus, Avery was growing more and more anxious. He usually wasn’t separated from his brother for this long, and the night was wearing longer and longer. It didn’t help that he was even hornier than usual, and his cock showed no sign of getting hard…and everytime he started to stroke it, his hand drifted lower, to his ass, but he’d pull it away before exploring anything, out of fear and shame. He tried to sleep, but couldn’t. He ended up stuffing his face with snacks be bought from a 24 hour convenience store, and sniffing one of his brother’s cumrags, disturbed by how much he needed the scent close to him.

He was still awake right before dawn, when Ethan finally returned. He wasn’t wearing the clothes he’d left in–instead, all he had on was a pair of overalls, and he was covered from face to foot with half-dried mud that reeked. “Christ Ethan!” Avery asked, “Where have you been?”

Ethan didn’t say anything–he just snorted the air and leered at Avery–a leer that reminded him of…someone, but he couldn’t remember who. All he knew was that it scared him half to death, and he got up off the couch and backed away from his advancing brother, who was letting the overalls fall as he walked, revealing a cock that…wasn’t right. It was bright pink, and seemed to twist somehow as it rise tight to Ethan’s furry belly, the pendulous balls slapping against his thighs as he stomped closer.

“Ethan…Ethan, where have you been? You’re freaking me out bro…”

“I’ve been with Daddy, learning how to be his little Fuckboar, but you’ll find out all about that later. He said…I get to fuck you first, and fuck, do you know how fucking good you smell? Get the fuck over here, I wanna fuck that damn hole of yours.”

Dale’s Story (Part 7)

Well the winner by a good margin was option number two with 35% of the vote, and the close runner up was option four with 27%, so why not combine them both together, right? So, WARNING: BESTIALITY AHEAD is what I’m trying to say.

“Well come on o’er here, Mick, ‘n let me git a good look at ya,” Dale said, waving the farmer over to where he was standing next to Bishop, or Piggy as he knew himself know, still helplessly chowing down on slop from the trough, horrified that someone had found him in this position.

“I don’–who the hell are you?” Mick asked, “How’d ya…know my name?” he walked over, not even aware that he was doing so until he was a few feet away from Dale–and he looked over his shoulder at where his shotgun was lying back by the barn entrance. “Yer on mah property, I want ya off.”

“Oh, we ain’t trespassin’, Master Mick–yer the one who invited us, after all. Piggy here wanted tah be yer new pigslave, ‘n we’re tryin’ him out, tah see if he’s good enough fer yer sty, ain’t that right?”

Mick’s mind was simple, and Dale found it rather…thrilling, how he could rewire the man’s head at to his merest whim. The farmer was a gentle guy, easy going–he had a shotgun, sure, but he’d never be able to really use it on anyone. No–he’d been more scared than anything, when he’d heard the noises in his barn, coming back from getting his hogs bedded down for the evening. So Dale started hardening him, giving him edges, cruel and abusive instincts, sadistic desires, and filling his mind with all sort of pervere, twisted fantasies. He resisted a bit, but the old Mick couldn’t stand for more than a moment against Dale’s mental onslaught, and when Mick looked down at Bishop again–it was hunger and lust and anger in his eyes that show through, as he kicked his new slave in the gut, yelling at him to eat faster, that he’ll never manage to be his pigslave with a sorry appetite like that. Mick started inspecting him then, unhappy with his scrawny the pig was, but he could fatten him up, if the thing had the spirit to handle him.

Dale crouched down next to Bishop’s face in the trough, and watched his brother plead with him for a moment, but he was already rewiring him as well. After all, this is what Bishop had wanted, right? Yeah, a master, a farmer, someone who could really help him become the pig he knew was deep inside him, that he’d always felt in there, that he’d always wanted to be. He wanted to be abused, humiliated, raped even, if that’s what it took, and even though these desires made him feel so ashamed, his cock was hard as a rock when Mick ran two dirty fingers down his crack and gave the piggy’s cunt a test–and Dale had an idea, or rather, Mick had his idea a moment later.

“I’m on the fence ‘bout it,” Mick said, “Could be a good ‘un, but I ain’t sure it really wants it. One way tah find out fer sure though. Get the hog’s hole warmed up fer a bit man, ‘n I’ll be back in a few.”

“Heh, ya heard the boss,” Dale said, unzipping his fly and dropping his pants, hefting his huge gut onto the small of Bishop’s back and shoving his rock hard cock in dry. Bishop groaned in pain, and Dale gave him a slap on the ass. “Don’t be worried ‘bout this, bro, be worried ‘bout who yer new master’s bringin’ back wit’ ‘em.”

Bishop had no idea what Dale might be referring to, until Mick returned with his prize winning boar leashed up. “Best way tah see if it’s got what it takes, is tah give it a taste a the real thing.”

“Sounds like a plan tah me!” Dale said, and made room for the boar. He gave the animal a mental prod, encouraging it on to mount Bishop, who cried out when he realized what was about to happen with him…but he wanted this. No, he didn’t want this, whatever his brother was doing to him he…he’d always thought about this, about being mounted like an animal, by an animal. A squeal escaped his mouth as the boar slid inside him, and the excitement of his fantasies coming true–his cock exploded all over the ground beneath him as he rutted with the boar, Mick letting out a laugh. “Hot damn, this thing ain’t a pig, it’s a god damn sow! Heh, bet we’d make some real nice progress if we went ‘n nutted the damn thing–then it’d put some wait on her hips real fast.”

“Well, I suppose that’s up to you, Master Mick-it’s your piggy now.”

“Heh–the leather daddies back in the big city ‘r gonna go fuckin’ nuts over it at the convention next year, I’ll tell ya that!”

“Well Bishop,” Dale said, “I think yer in perfectly capable hands now–maybe I’ll come check in on ya tahmorrow, ‘n see how yer comin’ along.”

Bishop tried to beg, tried to plead, but all he could do was oink and squeal and debase himself as the boar came to climax inside him, and his master shoved the animal to the side and took it’s place, raping his new pig’s sloppy pussy as rough and hard as the boar who’d just been inside him. Dale watched a moment, and then left the barn, satisfied–to an extent.

“Damn, Dale, that’s pretty fuckin’ twisted,” a familiar voice said behind him. He turned, and the stranger appeared out of the dark, smoking a cigar.

“Fucker deserved it.”

The stranger didn’t say anything, just let a stream of smoke into the evening air. “Well, ya still got plenty a time left–who else ya wanna get some revenge on, while ya got the chance?”

I’m not sure if we’ll revisit Bishop here or not–his story line seems to have wrapped itself up pretty well. Still, I’m sure a guy like Dale has a few other grudges he could take on, right?

  1. His father–he’ll need some way to occupy himself now that both of his son’s are out of the house.
  2. His bully from high school who still lives in town–he could use a few lessons in punishment.
  3. A couple of Bishops friends–he’s sure to find them at George’s bar tonight, and he never did get to finish that drink with them.
  4. The stranger himself–try and take control of him. It’s risky and might fail, but he’ll never know unless he tries, right?

So, who do you want Dale to target next?

Pig Bros (Part 2)

Ethan found his body drawing closer to the massive figure, and squeezed into the booth with him, Avery still screaming across from them. The man shoved his face into Ethan’s personal space and started snorting, and came up for air, “Not bad, actually–good thing I always come prepared, right, boy?”

From the pocket, he withdrew a second crystal–still pink, but with darker striations running through it. He made Ethan take off his shirt, and then pulled him close, the crystal pressed to his breast, “Now, give me a kiss boy, eh?”

He fought harder than he ever had in his life, but he leaned in and allowed the massive farmer to shove his thick tongue in his mouth, as he pressed the crystal through his skin, Ethan feeling the same searing pain as his brother, screaming into the fat man’s snorting mouth. He pulled away a moment, and said, “You won’t remember much, but you will remember this–in one week, you and only you, come find me here. Understand?”

***

The brothers woke up the next morning in a ditch, both of them shirtless, on the far south side of town. Neither of them could remember what had happened the night before, at The Watering Hole, but neither one of them could imagine it having been a good experience. Ethan was furious at his brother for convincing him to do something so stupid, and Avery was apologetic for once. The first half of the morning they spent walking back into town to their car, and by the time they got there, both of them were utterly famished. They went back to their dorm room for new shirts, and then went to the dining hall, where both brothers found themselves going back for second and third helpings of heaping plates–far more than either of them would have ever eaten previously, but neither of them could quite work up the will to stop. When they finished, they both swore up and down that they’d never eat like that again, but a few hours later the grumbling had begun, and they devoured just as much for dinner that evening.

The next week, they did their best to get back into the swing of their classes, but neither of them found it easy to focus on their studies. Ethan in particular was having issues–normally he was fairly calm and collected, but in the days after their trip to The Watering Hole, he found himself becoming irritable and even aggressive–not to mention the fact that he was horny all the time, suddenly. At first he thought it was just blue balls, but women…didn’t interest him much, for some reason, so he ended up just masturbating seven or eight times a day, trying not to think about how his cock seemed to be getting longer, his balls bigger, his bush thicker.

Avery, on the other hand, found his sexual interest dropping like a stone. Well, that wasn’t quite true, it was just that his cock just…didn’t seem very interested in getting hard for much of anything at all. He was still horny, however, and it was becoming…difficult to deal with. He found that eating helped keep the edge off more than anything else, and so he would often hang around the dining hall even after Ethan had retired, still stuffing his face, trying to fill some…hole in him he couldn’t quite identify. Each day, he’d stare at himself in the mirror, in clothes that now hugged his frame tight, looking at his growing gut, his thick thighs and ass, and promise himself he’d stop, but he couldn’t. And things only seemed to get stranger.

The weight gain only sped up. The two brothers were being openly gawked at and mocked as they crossed campus–Ethan usually shouting back angrily while Avery just hurried along faster, blushing. His beard fell out over the course of a day, emphasizing his second chins and puffy face, his body hair thinning as well, leaving him with a slight treasure trail and a tight bush around his cock and balls, both of which seemed…smaller than they had been. While he’d been losing hair, Ethan had been gaining everything he’d lost, and more, with a full beard appearing all over his face in the course of a night, along with enough hair to cover his front and back. It was…odd hair too, almost bristly to the touch. They tried to talk about the changes, but neither of them could say much of substance–while each of them was disgusted and repulsed by their new bodies, they also felt…normal, somehow. They knew they should be different, but were at a loss of imagination as to what they might be instead. Instead, Avery found himself hoarding his brother’s cumrags, sniffing them, desperate for some form of sexual satisfaction, while Ethan kept catching an odd, urgent whiff of something around his brother, a smell which made him both uneasy and incredibly horny. Come Saturday, he knew he had to get out for a bit, by himself. Pulling on his biggest clothes, which now barely fit him, he told Avery he’d be back later, took the car, and went for a drive, his body on autopilot, taking him back to The Watering Hole.

The farmer was there in his booth, waiting. Ethan didn’t know how he knew the man…but he did. He waddled over and the smell of him, the sense of need suffused his mind, and he grunted and snorted, close to cumming in his pants. “There ya are,” the farmer said, “Have a seat, and try not to cum yet, if you can help it.”

Pig Bros (Part 1)

Avery and Ethan were twin brothers attending college in a small town out in the sticks. It had seemed like a nice place when they’d visited as high school seniors, but after three years spent there, their patience was wearing a bit thin with the place, and they were both eager to finish their senior year and be gone. The town always felt this tension, however, between the college student population which bloomed each fall and died back in the summer, and the farmer and ranchers who remained there the whole year long. Both of the brothers had turned 21 over the summer, and now that they could drink legally, they were stretching their legs a bit–and it was Avery who suggested they go to The Watering Hole, just to see what it’s like.

There were a few unspoken rules in the small town which kept tensions lows between the students and everyone else–one of those rules was that the college kids would keep to the North of town, where the small downtown had been rejuvenated and hipsterized, while the rest of the folks would stick to the southern side, where they had their own set of bars and restaurants–all of them quite a bit cheaper, but with the expectation that students weren’t particularly welcome there. The Watering Hole was one such bar, and Avery had always been curious about it, but that was Avery. While the two were identical in appearance, their temperaments were a bit more varied. Avery was brash, always up for a good prank, a shortcut, and rule bending. Ethan, on the other hand, was quieter, thoughtful, and usually the one who got Avery out of the trouble he inevitably stirred up in his wake.

The bar wasn’t much to look at–just a fairly normal pub, beaten up tables, chairs and booths, a craggy bartender who wasn’t particularly happy to see a couple of students in his bar, but he served them, and they took a seat. The rest of the patrons, mostly cattle ranchers, pig farmers and corn growers, shot them a few dirty looks, but when that wasn’t enough to deter the brother’s they opted to ignore them–all aside from one man, propped up in a corner booth, slouched over, his huge gut propped up on wide thighs, chewing tobacco and staring at the young men…trespassing. It had been a while, he realized, since the students had been…reminded what could happen when you go where you don’t belong. Perhaps, he would make an example of these two, or perhaps not. He watched, making up his mind.

Ethan was bored and suggested they leave, but Avery was disappointed their arrival hadn’t caused more commotion–so he ordered more beer, got drunker, and louder. Everyone ignored him, but the massive man in the corner had made up his mind–an example indeed, he thinks, of that one at least. He gives off a massive, beery belch, making sure the young man notices him, encourages him to notice him, encourages him to think poorly of him. He can see the young man looking over, looking down, sneering a bit. Just you wait boy, just you wait.

Avery kept looking over at the massive, obese farm fuck in that booth, grossed out in one way…and yet obsessed in another way. The man was staring at him with his tiny eyes, glaring really, and Avery met his gaze each time, feeling emboldened each time. Ethan excused himself to go to the bathroom, and as soon as he was gone, Avery knew this was his chance to confront him, to taunt him. He got up and made his way to the back of the pub–the rest of the patrons staring at him and the massive farmer in silence. A few men got up and left, others tore their eyes away and kept them there, as Avery sat down across from the fat farmer and leaned on the table. “What the hell man? You’ve been looking at me all fucking evening. You have a problem or something?”

The man let out a low, snorting laugh, and then heaved himself up into the light. He was…uglier than Avery had thought, and he leaned back a bit. “Oh, silly boy–you think you’re in any control here? In my booth? In this bar? In this town?”

“Oh, I get it–you’re not just a dumb fat fuck, you’re a delusional fat fuck.”

Faster than Avery was expecting, the man lunged over, and with his fat fingers grabbed hold of the young man’s shirt collar and dragged him closer, their eyes inches away. He hadn’t been able to see from across the room but his eyes…they didn’t seem quite…human. He tried to pull himself away, but his body was limp–he couldn’t do anything as the man, snorting and chuckling, undid a front pocket on his overalls and pulled out a small crystal shard. In the light, it shone a brilliant pink between two fat, stubby fingers. “Don’t worry, you won’t remember this in the morning,” the man said, “It’s more fun when you forget, after all.” With one hand, he gave a sharp tug on Avery’s shirt, ripping the front away and revealing his furry chest. Avery kept trying to quirm away as the man pressed the sharp point of the crystal to his left pec, and forced it into him, where he could feel the thing dig deeper into his body. It hurt, and he screamed in pain, throwing himself back against the back of the booth, clawing at his chest, trying to fish the crystal up from the wound which sealed itself up behind it, leaving just a raw scar.

Ethan had emerged from the bathroom, and heard his brother screaming. Everyone in the bar was purposefully paying the noise no attention, but he ran back to the booth, where he found his brother shouting and digging at his chest. “What the fuck did you do to him?” Ethan said to the farmer.

“Don’t think I forgot about you now–come here, and sit on my knee boy. Let me get a better smell of you.”

I’d fired that stupid bitch of a secretary the week before–I’d never liker her much. Sure, nice legs and a good ass, but she refused to put out, which is the only damn reason I hired her–that’s what secretaries are fucking for. But when she started getting “ideas” about the business (and let’s be honest, no idea a woman has about business can be good, right?) I fired her on the spot. Still, turns out the bitch had been doing her work, so I had to hire a temp while I do a search for a better candidate to match the position.

I told the temp agency to send over a hottie, but what I got instead was a fucking flaming faggot! I could tell he wanted me too, because he was looking at me the same way I would have been looking at him if he was some sexy bitch. I confront him…and what I want to do is pound him into the dirt and fore his ass, but what we end up doing instead–fuck, the faggot somehow convinces me to let him suck my cock at my desk. Worse, he’s damn good at it, and he seems like he “needs” it, so instead of calling the agency I decide–what’s the harm in keeping the faggot around for a while, right? If he wants it.

Well, it’s been two weeks, and I can say that decision was a terrible one, but I…I can’t stop now. I swear, I spend all day at the office, fucking his holes, morning to night–and worse, I think…I think I’m changing too. I mean, some of the changes are nice, like how muscular I’ve gotten lately, and I don’t even necessarily object to all the body hair, but these nipple rings make me feel like a fucking slut, especially everytime the faggot tugs on them, and while it’s still plenty for him…I think my cock is actually getting smaller, and it’s harder and harder to get hard for him without…without tugging on my nipples, or…or playing with my ass.

And now…now I keep staring at his bulge…wondering what it would feel like, to have him in my daddy hole. God, did I really just call it that? It’s gotten so hard to think lately, about anything other than sex. It’s a good thing that faggot has a good business instinct, or I’d be fucked for sure…yeah…yeah, fucked. Maybe…just once. Just to feel what it’s like. Yeah, I only need it once, just for curiosity. It’s not like it’ll turn me into some slutty daddy, begging for his young cock all day long. Yeah, I mean, I might…fantasize about something like that, but I’m too much of a man, a real man, to ever let that happen to me.

Source: lustbox