brackenousjunk:

Requested by Anonymous

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Something strange had been happening around Wellsprings Senior Living Center lately, where Burt was a resident. He hadn’t thought much of it at first, when the first couple of his friends suddenly traded their golf polos and khakis for leather jackets, harnesses and rubber. It had been…different, sure, but for some reason it hadn’t alarmed him–even when these happily married men–some for fifty years–announced they had kicked their wives out and were divorcing them. Then, when he’d gotten the knock on his door that evening, and been greeted by a flash from that strange gun Mr. Lingleton had in his gloved hand, everything made more sense.

Burt had a bit of a secret, you see–he’d lost consistent control of his bladder a few years back, and had been wearing diapers ever since he’d gotten tired of wetting himself on accident. He hadn’t let anyone know–he had always been so embarrassed by his lack of self-control–but he didn’t have to worry about that now. He fell to his knees in his rubber waders, his cock spewing a massive load of piss across the carpet at the threshold of his apartment, as Mr. Lingleton hauled out his cock and showered Burt with piss from head to toe, and then left the old man to suck whatever he could from the carpet, before retreating back inside. 

From that day on, he simply pissed wherever he stood–often while wearing his yellow rubber chest waders–and when he got back to his apartment he’d drink all it down–adding it to all the other piss he’d been drinking from the men who lived in the complex all day long. He’d been a bit worried when his son and grandson came to visit a couple of weeks later, but once they were in his apartment, both of them began changing as well. His grandson lost control of himself as well, almost immediately, and his father wasted no time forcing the protesting boy into his grandfather’s diapers, disciplining him sternly when he tried to run and get help. Burt just watched his middle aged son grow and expand into a massive, heavily tattooed leather daddy bear–and once his grandson was pacified and diapered like a good baby bear, his son bent Burt over the sofa and gave him a proper plowing–and afterwards gave his father a load of piss to share with his grandson.

For anyone who missed it, I have a new, secondary blog called Bracken’s Junkbox! That’s where I’ll be doing asks, reblogs, and photo captions again! I’ll probably repost some of them on Saturdays here, on my main blog, but if you follow the new one you can see them sooner.

brackenousjunk:

Story Requested by @alexstrider008

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Jimmy had gone to the club that night, dressed in some of his sluttier best–all spandex and rubber, stretched tight over his lithe, muscular body, blonde highlights spiked up just so, looking like every other twink there–but then again, that was the point of being a twink, right? Looking like everyone else? He felt like he belonged with them all, out on the dance floor, their muscular bodies pressed together…but tonight he found himself talking to someone different.

The man didn’t look like he belonged in this kind of club–not wearing that much leather, and certainly not with that big gut hanging over his waistband. Jimmy and a few of his friends had been pointing and laughing at him all evening, secretly hoping the fat leather fuck would get the hint, finish his beer, and leave. But…somehow (he couldn’t quite remember now, and in fact, everything was becoming oddly foggy) he had ended up next to the man in the booth, having a conversation with him. The rest of the twinks were scandalized, of course–no so much as he was, when he found himself getting up after the man and…following him out of the bar.

They ended up going into a small house, and immediately down into the basement where the stranger stripped Jimmy of his spandex, shoved him up against a wooden cross and secured his ankles and wrists to the four boards. Next, a blindfold, and then the man shoved something in his mouth–a thick tube which was narrow at first, and then widened to the point that it stretched his jaw, and pushed down his throat–making it difficult to breathe except through his nose. “That’s good, such good boy,” The man said, “Gonna get you good and big, just you wait.”

There was the sound of a pump, and then he felt something oozing through the tube, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it–he could feel some strange sludge sliding it’s way down his esophagus and right into his stomach. For a few minutes it was fine, then he felt the first pangs of discomfort, his stomach swelling–but it didn’t stop. All he could do was moan and whimper for hours, while the man went about his work. First, he heard the sound of an electric razor as his perfect hair was shorn from his head. Then, the man began toying with him–clamping his nipples and cock, edging him, filling his hole with dildos–each larger than the next.

He felt so full, but…other things too. An exhaustion crept into his body, and it was like he could feel his muscles…dissolving. Turning to jelly in him. The fog coating his mind grew thicker, and he found himself craving this feeling of fullness, craving abuse from this man, this…this master. He was happy, he could hear him, could feel him groping his…his gut. He had a gut, he could feel it hanging off him where he was bound. 

At long last, the pump ceased. His stomach ached, but already rumbled, needing more. The man hauled the tube free of his mouth, unhooked Jimmy’s wrists and ankles, and he immediately fell to his knees, hands behind his back, awaiting a command. He couldn’t see, but it was a brand new morning, as his master fucked his throat, before hooking him up for a second, even larger, feeding.

For anyone who missed it, I have a new, secondary blog called Bracken’s Junkbox! That’s where I’ll be doing asks, reblogs, and photo captions again! I’ll probably repost some of them on Saturdays here, on my main blog, but if you follow the new one you can see them sooner.

brackenousjunk:

None of them had noticed anything yet. I wasn’t sure if any of them would notice the spell at all. Still, it was working, that much was certain. All of them had been massively muscled just a few hours ago, hairy, oozing masculinity. Already they were starting to pudge up, their body hair becoming thinner, their facial hair disappearing bit by bit. It was hard to tell whether they were becoming a bit more flirty because they were a bit drunk, or because the next part of the spell was taking affect. Serves those fucking jocks right, though–this will teach them to pick on fat guys like me. They’re all going to be fat cockwhores by the end of the night.

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Fuck, it sure is working, you should see the four of them! None of them is less than 300 pounds at this point, and all of them are obsessing with the guys around here, flirting with them, unable to peel their eyes away from the men’s crotches, even as their own cock’s shrivel up into nothing. This sort of shit would have gotten me pummeled into a pulp, but none of the guys here mind–the spell makes anyone the four of them take a liking to into a big, hairy brute who will give their holes a good reaming. Joey keeps looking at me, in particular, and fuck, it’s making me a bit horny. He can’t stop himself, and he knows it–I can see the terror in his eyes even as he licks his fat lips.

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Yeah fucker, that’s fuckin’ right, who’s in charge now, huh! Who’s on top now? Yeah, I wanna year ya fuckin’ squeal, squeal like a pig!

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Oh god oh god, wha happened tha me? I ain’t, this ain’t right! Where’d all this fuckin’ hair come from, ‘n why’s it so hard tah fuckin’ think all a sudden? The…spell? Fuck, I fucked Joey, ‘n this is what that made me? Got a damn good cock though, feels real nice. Bet…Bet it’d feel nicer in that other pig’s hole though, now that other guy’s done plowin’ him. Yeah, think I’d better give him a good fuck too, can’t fuck enough pigs after all, fuck yeah…

For anyone who missed it, I have a new, secondary blog called Bracken’s Junkbox! That’s where I’ll be doing asks, reblogs, and photo captions again! I’ll probably repost some of them on Saturdays here, on my main blog, but if you follow the new one you can see them sooner.

brackenousjunk:

I was just a teenager looking to earn a little extra cash, so when my neighbor, Mr. Junkett, told me he would pay me fifty bucks a day to help him with some home improvement work, I jumped at the chance, even though I didn’t really know anything about it. I assumed it would just be some painting or something, but I found out on the first day that he was putting in an entire new wing of his house! Still, I’d agreed to help, and it was good money, and I knew I’d learn a lot from him.

I don’t know when I noticed the first changes, how I was becoming more muscular, my gut filling out, picked up a couple of tattoos even though I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten them, and I’d started smoking cigarettes just like Mr. Junkett. This photo was taken about a month after we’d gotten started…and I remember looking at myself, not even sure it was me.

I started spending more and more time with him, working, and soon I was there constantly, sleeping on his couch after he fed me huge meals and encouraged me to drink beer after beer…and then I was sleeping in his bed, waking up with his arms around me, his…cock still lodged in my ass. I knew it was wrong, but I liked it–pretty soon he was fucking me all the time, and I was begging him for it–just the scent off his musky pits was enough to have me bent over, pants down, begging for a rough fuck. 

That old me has started to fade though. I’m not as smart as I was, and I don’t think I even finished high school. I’m in my forties with a mullet and a thick beard–my parents don’t even recognize me as their son, and…I live with Gary Junkett, my partner in public, and my master in private. Still, I can’t wait to see our new sex dungeon when it’s finished in a few more days. Master tells me we’re going to have a big party to celebrate, and my holes are going to be the main attractions.

For anyone who missed it, I have a new, secondary blog called Bracken’s Junkbox! That’s where I’ll be doing asks, reblogs, and photo captions again! I’ll probably repost some of them on Saturdays here, on my main blog, but if you follow the new one you can see them sooner.