Author: wesleybracken8258

The Fetish Gun (Part 9)

Ray tried to pry himself away from the nipple in his mouth, and Jeff watched him struggle for a few moments, smiling the whole time. A few times he took a wild swing or two at the gun, but Jeff had crouched well out of reach, where he could watch him struggle. Eventually, he gave up, and asked, “You wanna make me a cow? Fine, get it fucking over with then.”

“Be a little patient, I’m still trying to decide on what kind of cow to make you, you know? Still, why don’t we start with this,” Jeff said, pointed the gun, and pulled the trigger, holding it down for close to fifteen seconds, before releasing the button, revealing a very different Ray when the light dimmed away.

He was no longer kneeling–in fact, he was even shorter than Wade, making him the perfect height to keep sucking at his tit. However, instead of Wade’s muscle, Ray’s body had ballooned with fat. He still had on a complete leather uniform, however the leather now looked comical on his round figure, the leather pulled tight over his rolls and apron, the seat of his pants massively wide to accommodate his much fatter ass. Ray could feel an odd wetness around his heavy moobs as his nipples started to spontaneously pump cum out, but with nowhere to go, it ran down inside his shirt, making him feel clammy and uncomfortable. A second burst of the gun eliminated the uniform entirely, leaving him naked up top aside from a wide strap leather harness cutting into his fat, his own massive set of balls flopping out of some crotchless leather shorts, rubbing against Wade’s, both of them soaking each other in their cum.

“What do you think, Ray? You enjoying yourself? It sure looks like you are. This fucking cow sure does love it. Look at him, completely mindless, ruled by instinct–what do you think Ray? Is that what you’d like? You want me to empty out that head of yours? You want to be drooling, just a fucking sack of milk for men to drink all day, every day? Or is that too easy for someone like you? Maybe you should just rot away in there, your head dulling a bit more, day by day, feeling your sense of self drain away until you finally give in and there’s nothing left to lose?”

Ray tried to talk, but the only thing that emerged was a series of moos and grunts. No matter how hard he tried to form them, he couldn’t seem to make an intelligible word.

“Oh stop trying, Ray–cows don’t get to talk, you know that. Cows don’t get to make decisions. Cows don’t get to beg. Pup–do me a favor and plow this cow’s ass pussy for a while. I want him to take a moment to think about what might be coming for it in the future.”

“Yes sir!” Ben said, and happily came around behind Ray, got on his knees, and drove his cock in between the fat cheeks of his ass. The cock slid in smoothly, and Ray let out a long, deep moo of pleasure, cum spewing helplessly from his tiny nipplecock. By now, the two cows had a full-fledged puddle of cum and milk between them, and every eye in the place was glued to them–letting Ray turn the dial on the gun to setting E. But instead of shooting it at any one person–he instead pointed it up at the ceiling of the bar, and pulled the trigger, focusing on the image in his mind like he’d seen Ray do the night before, when they’d turned that shitty breeder sport’s bar into this fine leather establishment, but this time he had a different idea in mind. The gun’s light flew out in a shower, up to the ceiling and then cascaded down around onto the entire bar and everyone in it, the light throbbing and pulsing, absorbing all of them aside from Jeff, who kept still in the middle of the maelstrom until the gun’s power finally drained away, it’s battery exhausted for the night, leaving him in a place much different from what it had been.

Now it was the filthy bathhouse of his dreams, and he was the sole proprietor. He wasn’t standing in a bar–rather it was a dimply lit locker room, and his pup was fucking one of their in house milk cows over a bench. Ben had changed quite a bit–gaining a substantial amount of muscle, but that was important, since he was the primary bouncer and enforcer. He finished with a few loud grunts and slid his cock free, before dragging the cow back to its cage, shoving it inside, hooking up the milker and turning it on, Ray’s attempts at resistance melting away into moans of pleasure as the pumps sucked away at him. Wade was in the cage beside him, hooked up to his own machines. The two of them stored the milk and sold it on tap–each of their milks was highly sought after in the bulking and gaining communities–Wade’s for building muscle, and Ray’s for packing on fat.

“What do you think, pup? Think we’ll be happy here?” Jeff asked.

He gave him a confused look, unsure of what his Master meant. Hadn’t they always owned the bathhouse?

Jeff rolled his eyes and ordered his pup down to suck his cock, deciding it was best not to worry. He was happy–and if he ever wasn’t happy, he was confident the gun could take care of any nuisance that might crop up in the future.

The End (Of this storyline at least)

The Fetish Gun (Part 8)

The three of them, two filthy derelict biker and one short, overmuscled pig with milk leaking from his tits and cock, left the apartment building and never returned. A few neighbors witnessed them leaving, but for some reason none of them regarded it as particularly odd, after Jeff shot them with the gun of course, and each of them returned to their own, newly fetished lives without another thought–sometimes literally.

Jeff was ecstatic. Finally, it was his. Sure, at first he’d resented Ray for changing him without even asking him first, but in that old body, he’d realized how…wonderful it was to be in control. One night, Ray made him his own personal pain slave, and that whole night…it had opened his eyes. This is how life was meant to be lived, but he’d always been second fiddle, until now. Now he was the one really in charge. Now he had the gun, now he could do whatever the fuck he wanted, and what he wanted now was a whole lot of fucking–starting with Ray, of course.

Ben remained a few respectful steps behind his master, still trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened to him that evening, from the alley to the apartment, and now this. Who even was he, anymore? His mind tried to answer the question for him, telling him he was Master Jeff’s obedient biker pup, that he’d do anything for him, that he’d serve him for the rest of his life, and even though he knew that was wrong, the words rang so true so deeply that it was quickly becoming impossible for him to even imagine an alternative…and yet, there had to be one, right? He could still barely remember walking into that alley to take a piss, and then…then everything. But that was getting harder and harder to hold onto, and fading faster than he could believe–in fact, by the time they reached the bar, he no longer remembered any of it. Instead, his head had filled in the blanks with a new life, a life spent at Jeff’s dirty boot heel, and he loved every moment of it.

Wade wasn’t thinking anything at all–his entire mind had been wiped, replaced by simple, instinctual impulses. His massive balls and missing cock were on display for all the see, and he felt no shame, or pride, or anything. What he did feel was pain. His balls and pecs were…brimming with cum and milk, and he needed release, soon, or his mind worried he might simply explode. The thump of his thighs against his huge sack as he walked helped, a jet of cum fling out with each forward step, and he kept his hands locked on his nipples, tugging and yanking and twisting them like faucets, his chest and gut soaked with his own milk, but it wasn’t enough. He would slow on occasion, and Master would yank on his nose ring, the bell around his neck clinking, and he’d give a pained moo, but pick up the pace, hopeful that his master would give him relief soon.

After a twenty minute walk, they arrived back at Ray’s bar–the bar he’d fashioned with his leather master sensibilities in mind, and while a day earlier Jeff had been in love with the place, now it seemed…far too clean and bright and open. He wanted dingy concrete. He wanted urinals and tobs brimming with piss. He wanted darkness and red lights and unknown bodies grinding against his. Still, that could wait–Ray was in there, at the bar, his personal bartender serving him bourbon. He looked annoyed–Jeff was late, but he’d been late for good reason. Still, he couldn’t confront him yet–he had something else in mind first. From here, he could do whatever he wanted to Ray, of course, but it had to be perfect–and he had just such an idea in his head.

“Cow, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to go in there and walk up to him, just let him notice you, and let him do whatever he wants to you–got it?”

Wade understood, and he waddled inside. He turned quite a few heads, including Ray, who could barely believe what he was seeing…and then he recognized him as their missing thief, and then the gun’s ray struck him right in the chest. he barely had time to register what had happened, and then he was up, his nose flaring, drawing him closer to the mancow approaching him, and he fell to his knees, latched onto a nipple, and started sucking, helpless to the crippling addiction that had overwhelmed him suddenly. The pleasure hit Wade in wave after wave, cum spewing freely from his cock, the entire bar watching what was happening.

“Having a good evening, Ray?”

He managed to crook his eyes up, and saw Jeff approaching him, the gun in his hand, “Fuck…Fuck you, fucking stop this,” he managed to saw with the nipple still glued to his lips.

“I’m not doing anything, Ray. You seem like the one who should stop, if you don’t want to make a complete fool of yourself. Then again, it doesn’t feel like you want to stop, now does it?” he added, slipping one dusty boot between them, pressing the outside against Ray’s still massive, sensitive sack and making him groan with pleasure and pain, “In fact, I bet you’d like to be a cow too, eh? Making some milk of your own. How does that sound?” He adjusted the dial on the gun, “I think it sounds pretty good myself.”

The Fetish Gun (Part 7)

Jeff held down the trigger for a few moments, before releasing it; the light dying away and revealing Ben once again. He was essentially the same, but with a few very important differences, the most obvious being the thick chain necklace he now wore, with an industrial padlock holding it together Jeff had no idea where the key was–he’d lost it ages ago, but that didn’t matter. As far as either of them was concerned, Ben would never be taking it off for the rest of his life. Jef stepped closer to him, their combined musk overwhelming them both, wrapped one hand around the back of his pup’s neck, feeling the lank, greasy hair in his grimy fingers, and thrust his tongue into Ben’s eager mouth, tasting him for the first time, and for the thousandth.

This wasn’t the first time Jeff had been subjected to setting C. When his friend had found the gun, that was the setting he’d used to turn him into his duplicate uniform master. What he hadn’t expected was for the changes to flow in both directions this time. Granted, the first time he’d been perfectly neutral, so perhaps that explained why his former half hadn’t changed at all. Still, that was something to figure out later–he pushed down on Ben’s shoulders, and his pups knees immediately buckled, hauling out his master’s pungent cock just in time to catch a facefull of piss blasted across his face.

“What…happened? Why I so…fuck…*moooooaaann*…”

Jeff looked over to where the now incredibly freakish cow on the other side of the couch. He chuckled to himself as he pissed down his pup’s throat, and pointed the gun at Wade, who was still helplessly twisting his massive, leaking nipples.

“Nooooo…” he groaned, trying to back away, but there was nowhere for him to go.

“Don’t you worry–I’m just going to help you become the cow you were always meant to be–the cow you want to be, I’m sure,” Jeff said, and pulled the trigger. After a few seconds, he released it, and Wade stood there, all intelligence drained from his eyes. He was no longer even capable of speaking–just grunting, moaning, and mooing of course. His body was relatively unchanged, aside from the fact that he was covered in a tattoo pattern of brown spots and the word “COW” etched across his forehead, a heavy steel door knocker pierced through his septum hanging lower than his lips, and a chain collar similar to Ben’s, but this one hooked to a cow bell resting on Wade’s massive chest.

He’d finished pissing, and his pup had moved onto his usual blow job, happily sucking at Jeff’s cock, desperate to be of service to his master. With his two targets relatively neutralized, Jeff finally had a chance to inspect the damage which had been done to him, when Wade had shot him earlier, and he inspected himself, and his mind, getting to know his new self. Physically he was similar–aside from some of his musculature being traded for a layer of fat–but that helped him and his pup stay warm in the winters as they travelled on their bikes. A couple of filthy, nasty derelict bikers, that was them–a gang of two, bathing in piss, drinking cum, going from city to city, robbing and raping as they went, taking what they needed before taking off again.

Part of him was disgusted–but he was used to that at this point. That bit of him, that old quivering Jeff that he could barely remember anymore, he didn’t fucking matter. Still, should he change himself back? Give himself back his pristine uniform? His perfect body? He thought about it, watching Ben suck his cock, and decided against it. He didn’t want that anymore. Maybe he wouldn’t have wanted this before, but he wanted this now, and that was more than enough for him. Still, there was the matter of revenge on his former half, and how to deal with him.

Ray had been the one who’d found the gun–he’d started all of this. The two of them had split up tonight to try and find the guy who’d stolen it from them–but it had never really been them, now had it? Ray had always called all the shots, made all the decisions, but now he was going to be in charge–and looking at his new cow, he realized he had the perfect idea of what to do with him, when he got back to the bar for their rendezvous. Fuck, just thinking about it, he was gonna explode, and he shot his load down Ben’s throat, his pup drinking it down eagerly into his belly, before standing back up with a grin on his face. “You look like you have something dirty planned, boss,” he said.

“Heh, you know me too well, boy,” Jeff said, “Come on, I have some business to take care of tonight.” Jeff picked up a leash he usually used for his pup, but instead he attached it to the thick ring in his cow’s nose. “You too–you’re gonna love this cow–just you fuckin’ wait.”

The Fetish Gun (Part 6)

Back in his apartment, Wade settled down on the couch, parking Ben between his legs where he could suck down all the milky cum he wanted, and began experimenting with the gun on his new whore. Setting B, it seemed, was the easiest–it simply turned someone into whatever he wanted them to become. Setting A, as far as he could guess, would tailor the target to their current environment, but he wasn’t certain. Setting D amplified someone’s current form and fetishes to be even more extreme than before. That left two final settings which he had no clue about. One of them had to change people back, right? That was probably setting E–the last one. Out of curiousity, he turned the dial to E and fired it at Ben, figuring he could always change him back–but nothing happened. It was like the light wouldn’t even stick to him, or do anything at all. More confused than ever, he turned the dial to the letter C and fired it at Ben again. This time the light stuck, enveloping him in an aura like before–however when it dissipated Ben hadn’t changed at all. He fired it again at him, but like with setting E, the light refused to stick. Was it broken? Why in the world wasn’t it doing anything?

That was as far as he got, before a booted foot started kicking at his door. Ben pried himself away from Wade’s cock, who stood up and looked down the short hallway. After three kicks, the bolt broke through the door frame and the door swung open, revealing one of the uniformed men he escaped from the night before, his balls still massive, and he did not look happy. The man saw the gun in Wade’s hand and charged at him–Wade raised it up and shot him as he came crashing towards him, and the light engulfed him…and Ben, standing beside him, an umbilical tendril connecting them both together for a few moments, before disappearing. The gun had done nothing to stop the intruder’s momentum and he slammed into Wade, the gun flying from his hand behind the couch, and he began wrestling with the man on the carpet, eventually throwing him to the side, scrambling up to his feet, and finding Ben standing there, the gun shaking in his hand, the barrel pointed right at him.

The stranger stood up next to him, and the three of them remained still, allowing Wade to see what had just happened. It was clear that setting C was designed for two targets–both Ben and the man had been changed–and it looked like, to Wade, that the two of them had absorbed each other’s fetishes and lives, meeting somewhere in the middle. Both of them were dressed head to toe in leather, however it was no longer a police uniform, but appeared to be cast off biker leathers, all of it heavily worn, tattered and filthy. Wade could smell them both, in fact–Ben had stank of musk and piss as they’d come back to the apartment, and now they both did. It was clear that Ben’s obsession with piss had worn off in the other direction.

“What…what the fuck should we do with him?” Ben asked, looking at the man like a fellow conspirator, “He fucking…fucking fucked with me Jeff, we gotta, I don’t know…make him pay.”

“Look, Ben, just calm down, and give me the gun. It’s all going to be alright,” the man said…but how did he know Ben’s name? “Give me the gun, and the two of us will sort this whole thing out.”

“No!” Wade said, “No, don’t give it to him, he’ll just–” but that was as far as Wade got, before the light struck him in the chest. He assumed, at first, that the gun would still be on setting C–however, he started to feel a familiar warmth, and realized that the dial must have twisted when he’d thrown it, meaning things were about to get a whole lot worse. He tried to move, tried to reach out and deflect the ray, but his arms wouldn’t budge. It was getting harder to think, harder to focus on much of anything, but he tried to, he tried to keep himself together, until the light finally dimmed away.

Ben stared at Wade on the other side of the couch, unable to believe what he was seeing. If the man who’d accosted him in the alley had been a freak before…well, now he was even stranger. He’d lost even more height, bringing him under five feet tall, but he’d packed on even more muscle somehow, making him look like a short fleshy wall–especially his pecs, which ballooned out from his body before sagging down, made heavy by the milk inside them already seeping from his huge, two inch long nipples, running down the front of his body. His cock was nowhere to be found–just a nub over a sack of balls larger than anything Ben had imagined possible, larger than a basketball, resting on his thighs. Wade ran his hands over his body, trying to process what had happened, but his mind was suddenly too dull to do much thinking at all. There was…something about a gun, something important, but it was already fading as he started twisting his nipples with his fat hands, milk spurting from the onto the couch, his nub of a cock spurting as well, while he let out a loud, surprisingly authentic moo from his gaping mouth.

Ben was still staring at what he’d done, when Jeff (that was his name, but Ben had no idea how he could possibly know that…except how could he not? The two of them were inseparable, of course) walked up to him, and gently lifted the gun from his hands. “What…what did I just do? I didn’t mean, I…”

“Hey man, it’s alright, I know,” Jeff said, turning the dial on the gun, “Hold still, this will make everything better.”

Ben turned in time to see the gun fire, and everything disappeared in a blaze of light.

Did NCMC just implode for no reason?I know you’re disassociated but I figure you’d have an ear out. All I get is a link to a zip archive.

From what I’ve heard, following along with the thread over on CYOC, that the guy in charge of the NCMC up and quit, and perhaps deleted the site infrastructure. No one seems to know why. No one knows if it was backed up or not. The guy who runs erotichypnosis.com had a hand in the NCMC, but wasn’t hosting it; apparently he’s looking to recreate it. I know that Changes, who runs CYOC, has offered to take over hosting the site under the CYOC umbrella (much like he did with TF Spot) but that’s all I’ve heard. People are trying to save it–I think the question is going to be whether there is anything of the old infrastructure left to save, beyond the archive, but all of this is subject to change, and may wrong. If you’re a member at the CYOC, you can find the discussion here. 

Also, for the record, the NCMC has remained one of my go to sites, and I’m very much upset over it shutting down. I certainly had issues with the moderator and the community, leading me to stop posting stories and content on the site, but it was a very important cog in this genre, and there’s really nothing that can take it’s place–I very much hope it get’s revived, and maybe with some fresh, active moderation, it might even be improved over time.

My Boys – Part 6

It was at least an hour later when the door to the motel room finally clicked open, and Bruce stepped into the room. His boys were still fucking, just as he’d hoped they would be–such good boys. The fur coating Nick’s entire body was matted to his skin and soaked with sweat–he hadn’t once removed his cock from his brother’s hole, and it had grown looser and looser, his cum spilling back out and onto the bed beneath them. Sean was doing his best to play with his own cock as his big brother fucked him–it had taken a while, but he’d eventually found a good grip that let him hold on tight past his huge gut. He too, had shot multiple loads. However, as soon as the door opened and their father stepped inside, the commands he’d given them ended, and Nick immediately hauled his cock out of his brother’s ass and stepped back, unable to believe what he’d been doing.

“Glad to see you two found someway to entertain yourselves,” Bruce stepped inside, and a man came in after him–the boys immediately recognized his as their uncle, but he looked quite a bit different from the fat cook he’d been before. For one, he was smoking, but instead of a pipe luike their daddy, he had a short, stubby cigar clamped in his jaw, chuffing smoke. He’d certainly grown back to his previous size, after Sean had drained him of cum, but the weight he’d gained back had been more equal between fat and muscle–he was still soft, but underneath it was obvious he was strong and hard, a real bull of a man. He’d sprouted quite a bit of hair as well, not nearly as much as Nick had, but he was quite furry, with a massive bulge in his jeans straining at the fabric.

“What…what the fuck did you do? This is fucking insane,” Nick said, “Change…change us back, and give us our dad back, you fucking–”

The cook stepped between Bruce and Nick, and gave the boy a hard smack across the face, which sent him reeling into the dresser–strong was an understatement, Nick realized, and he felt a bit of fear well up in him. “You know better ‘n tah talk to yer elders like that boy. Now apologize.”

“S-Sorry…daddy…” Nick said.

“It’s alright you two–I don’t mind boys with a bit of fight in them. It keeps things interesting, and I know you’re jonesin’. Still, you might find that your uncle is less forgiving than me, and much less willing to entertain any antics. He’s rather serious, you know–I’d be careful,” Bruce winked, and then sniffed the air, “Fuck boy, you stink. Just as good as I fuckin’ remember. Git over here Jared, smell this boy’s nasty pits.”

Before Nick could stop him, the cook–Jared, apparently–hauled up one of Nick’s arms, shoved his face in his pit, and took a deep snort, “Fuck, he’s fuckin’ rank.”

Nick hadn’t noticed, but now that his dad had pointed it out, he could smell himself, and part of him wanted to retch, and go take a shower. He started for the bathroom, but Jared grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him back, throwing him onto the other bed, while Sean struggled with his fat form to simply sit up.

“Now boys,” Bruce said, “I’m gonna have to spend a few days away–Daddy’s got some very important business to attend to, so we can have a good future together, as a family. So while I’m gone, ya’ll are just gonna be good boys, and wait here at the motel for me. Jared’s gonna be lookin’ after both a ya, so you’re gonna have tah do everything he says, you got it? You’ll do it, and you’ll like it, whether you want to or not.”

He paused a moment, looking from one boy to the other, and then picked up a plastic bag he’d brought in with him, and pulled out, first, several cans of chewing tobacco. Nick barely understood what happened next, as he took the cans from his hands, opened one, and stuffed as much of the leaf in his mouth as he could, until he had two bulging wads pushing out his cheeks on each side, and he sighed, the headache and anger he’d felt ebbing away, replaced by a calm alertness. “Fuck daddy, I fuckin’ needed that…” Nick said.

“Language, boy,” Jared said, but only glared at Nick, instead of delivering another snap.

“I know ya did–and ya’ll be needing plenty more,” Bruce said, and handed the rest of the bag to him–it was filled with tins of tobacco, and Nick resisted the urge to put even more in his mouth.

Jared had a bag of his own, which he brought over to Sean, “You boy, since ya take after me, yer daddy thought ya should smoke cigars like me, how’s that sound?”

“But I…I don’t want to smoke…” Sean said.

“Now boy, everyone in our family needs tobacco, you know that. Don’t worry, Uncle Jared is looking forward to training you–you’ll enjoy yourself soon enough. You won’t even be able to imagine having something other than a cigar in your mouth all day, every day, before too long.”

Sean opened his mouth to protest again, but Jared locked lips with him, and shoved a lungful of cigar smoke into his lungs. Nick watched them share it for a minute, his fat brother’s eyes rolled back in pleasure, and when Jared pulled away, Sean didn’t object when his uncle placed the cigar he’d had right in his boy’s teeth, and told him to “smoke up like a good boy.”

“Alright, remember, ya’ll do everything your uncle says, and most important, you wait for me. You don’t fight him, you don’t try and kill him, you be good boys, like you’d be for me, and everything will be find in a few days. I expect you two to behave. Do you two understand?”

“Yes Daddy,” they both said, and then Bruce smiled, and slipped from the room, started the car and drove off down the road with the screech of tires.

“Guess that means you’re mine boys,” Jared said, “I think we’re gonna have a grand time, don’t you?”

My Boys – Part 5

Light was streaming in through the slanted shades; the only reason Nick woke up was because the room had become uncomfortably hot in the morning sun. He’d fallen asleep on top of the covers, and he simply laid there for a few minutes, too exhausted to consider moving, trying to process everything that had happened to him the night before, and simply failing to do so. It felt like all of that had just happened to…someone else. His pants were off but his shirt was still on, though it felt incredibly tight on him, making it a bit difficult to breathe. He sat up, muscle aching, and tried to peel it off, but the fabric simply ripped apart as he tried, and he ended up shredding it as he pulled, looking down at himself, as this body he was inside, and he couldn’t…this couldn’t…

The hair. The fuckin’ hair. He ripped the bits of shirt away and looked down at himself. The hair was everywhere, all over him, coating him so thickly that he couldn’t even see the skin. But more than that…it wasn’t…his hair. He hadn’t exactly been hairless to begin with, he’d had a decent coating of brown hair, but this new hair, it was multicolored. Not in patches, but different colors intermixed all over, in every color, although a few seemed to be dominant–browns, a huge amount of bright red over his chest and belly, and a dingy white climbing up his shoulders and down his entire back.

He looked around the room. Sean was still in his bed, snoring louder than Nick had ever heard before. He had never managed to get undressed yesterday, and like his brother, he had simply ripped his way out of them, aside from his shirt, which was riding up on top of his belly, cupping two massive moobs like a bra. He had somehow ended up even fatter than their uncle–no, not really their uncle, that cook, just a cook!–had been before…everything that happened last night, and looking at him now, Nick could feel his cock twitching and growing, pushing it’s way out from his tangled multicolored bush to a full nine inches without even thinking much of it. Sean was rolled away from him, and he could just…just picture himself spreading that fat ass and sliding his cock right in his brother’s soft, fat hole…

He stood up from the bed, and suffered a sudden vertigo–he was at least a foot taller than he’d been before, less than a foot away from the seven foot ceilings of the motel. That was enough to snap him from his fantasy, and he tromped to the bathroom, locking himself inside before he could act on…on any of what he couldn’t stop thinking about, right now. The small bathroom was claustrophobic, and he had this buzzing in his head, and he could use a damn beer too, a beer would…would help. He turned on the sink and splashed his face with some water, but almost none of it touched his skin–his face was covered with a huge, thick beard just like the rest of him. He looked at himself, and unlike his body hair, his beard was at least a solid color–a deep red, darker than the red on his chest–and his head hair was the usual light brown…but something was wrong. He stared at himself for a minute, and he swore that he could…see his hair growing right before his eyes. Granted, his beard was massive, reaching down past his chest and curving over his taut, hard gut, but the more he watched, the more certain he was that his hair…it was growing right in front of him.

This was insane. He was going insane. He had to get out of here, he had to get help. Daddy wasn’t here, maybe he could slip out before he got back–

There was something like a psychic slap that hit him then, when he thought about leaving the room. Daddy told him not to leave. Daddy said to wait until he got back. Daddy said…said that if he was bored, then he could…he could…

Fuck…

He stepped out of the bathroom, fighting his own body, but he walked to where his massive brother was sleeping, spit a wad of saliva into his massive, paw like hand, and started lubing up his hard shaft. Spitting…that…that had felt good…He did it a few more times, getting his massive cock good and wet, but like Daddy always said, you gotta eat a man out first. It’s only polite. He got down on his knees, but still had to stoop slightly in order to get his face into his brother’s wide ass crack, probing with his tongue, scraping the sensitive skin with his beard and mustache, listening to his brother’s snores turn into moans as he slowly woke up to the attention on his ass.

“What…what happened…” Sean muttered, and then belched.

“Don’t…don’t worry bro,” Nick said, his voice much deeper, with a natural growl and drawl like their Daddy had, “Big bro’s here tah take care a ya.”

Sean screamed, but all Nick could think about was fucking, as he forced his big cock deep into his brother’s hole, running his huge hands over his brother’s soft body, kneading and groping him, ripping away his tight shirt so he could squeeze his tits and play with his meaty nipples, and before too long, Sean was sighing and panting along with him, the two brother’s rutting happily. Nick shot one load, but he kept on going–reaching down with one hand, digging around in Sean’s gunt until he found his brother’s cock and stroked him as well.

“Bro…” Sean moaned, “Bro, we gotta…we gotta stop…stop this, gotta get help.”

Nick drilled in deeper. His brother didn’t know what he was talking about. “Daddy told us tah fuck, so we gonna fuck. ‘Sides, I like how your fat ass feels ‘round my big cock, don’t you?”

Sean nodded. It did…feel good, and when his huge brother leaned over they kissed eagerly, though Sean, for some reason, thought that his brother’s mouth was…missing something. Something that was usually there, a flavor, but it…wasn’t, for some reason. Not that it really mattered. Now that he was awake, he realized how silly he’d been. Daddy had told them to fuck in the morning after all, and he did want Daddy to be happy, and he shot his wad into Nick’s hand, who licked it off, much of it ending up caught in his long mustache and beard.

“Ya don’t mind if I keep goin’, right bro?” Nick asked, “I’m still horny, and still bored.”

“Fuck my fat ass all morning, you know I ain’t got nothin’ better to do,” Sean said, and they kissed, Nick feeding his brother the cum off his beard, and shooting his second load of the morning deep inside his brother’s ass, and kept going strong.

My Boys (Part 4)

“Alright boy, this is still gonna hurt like fuck, since it’s your first and all,” Bruce said, and circled around Nick to his face, “I am your first, right? If this ain’t the first cock that’s been in that sweet hole, you’re still fuckin’ tight. I wouldn’t be angry boy, just surprised.”

“Of course it’s my first time!” Nick said, “Please, Dad–you have to snap out of it. I don’t know what happened, but you have to stop this, you–”

Bruce leaned down, locked lips with his son, and exhaled another full lung of smoke into him, which they shared for close to a minute, when he finally pulled away, a wisp of smoke connecting their lips. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Nick said, “No…daddy, I’m sorry, please…please don’t stop, I’m sorry.”

“That’s better. Now get this cock of mine lubed up, boy,” he said, and dropped his jeans. It was the first time he’d seen his father naked in years, and nothing looked right, especially not his cock and balls. His dick was huge, for one thing– much larger than Nick could recall, and his father’s sack–he’d never imagined someone’s balls could get that large. Each of them looked to be the size of a grapefruit, the sack dragging heavy to the middle of his father’s thighs. Nick just gaped, making it easy for his father to slide his cock into Nick’s mouth, his balls swinging heavy below Nick’s chin. “Yeah, fuck–been savin’ so much cum up lately, just haven’t seen much of anythin’ to spend it on, but the two of you, I just couldn’t fuckin’ resist. Besides, I haven’t had a family in a while, and I’m tired of travelling. But the two of you, I could see myself settling down for a bit, with two handsome boys like you keeping me company. Well, you’ll be handsome soon enough. Your brother’s doin’ good over there–” he paused, looking over his shoulder at Sean, his gut bulging out into a proper apron, “Didn’t think he’d really drink it all, but he’s a fuckin’ natural.”

He pulled his cock free. “I don’t…what did you do to him?”

“He drank all your uncle’s cum! That’s where he kept all his fuckin’ juju ‘n shit. That’s where we all keep it. Your uncle’s a fat, greedy fuck, ‘n your brother there’s gonna be just like him when he’s all done. You though–fuck, I got so many good men in this here sack that I been savin’ for someone just like you, you’re gonna be one hell of a fuckin’ man, son, you’re gonna be a fuckin’ hot piece of boymeat!”

Bruce climbed onto the bed behind him, lined up his spit-lubed cock with his son’s loose hole, and slid the head in, “Fuckin’ hot piece of meat, fuck. Yeah, who to fuckin’ start with…Fuck. Of course,” he slipped the cock in deeper–even though his hole put up no resistance, it still hurt, and Nick gripped the bedspread. “I saw this guy–a biker. Fucking massive, six and a half feet, wide shoulders, fuckin’ built. Huge cock too, man, what a fuckin’ looker, like a fuckin’ wall of meat, gotta give that to you, yeah…”

Nick had no real understanding of what his dad was talking about–where in the hell would his dad have ever even met a biker like that? He’d always been a bit of a homebody–the only friends he had were those he met from work, or while golfing. However, he was becoming increasingly certain that this creepy fucker wasn’t his dad–or wasn’t the dad he’d had earlier that day. This just made no sense…and yet here he was, getting fucked by his father, his younger brother growing fatter off their uncle’s sperm…fuck…Sean was looking…kind of hot, now that he looked at him more.

“…Yeah, he wasn’t happy about having his balls drained, but fuck him, right? Gonna look so much better on you. I know who fuckin’ else too, this nasty fuck, met him in a bar one night–drank like he needed beer to live, chewed tobacco, always had black spit runnin’ into his beard. Pits reeked, the nastiest fuckin’ farts, this big, heavy gut. Cum was fuckin’ rank, but I had to take it, I fuckin’ had to have it, you know? You fuckin’ know how it is…”

Now that Nick had managed to relax somewhat, meeting his father’s thrusts with his own backwards motion, he could feel something, his father’s cock pumping cum into his hole, his lower belly beginning to bloat a bit uncomfortably. He reached down underneath himself, feeling the taut skin there–was his dad cumming in him already? How much fucking cum did he have in him? He looked under himself, and could see his father’s heavy balls swinging to and fro, smacking into his taint with each thrust. They were actively pumping–he could see it, and they were growing smaller–not significantly, but they were.

“…Gettin’ close, gotta have a big finale for a boy like you, yeah…fuck, I know just fuckin’ what too, yeah, you’re gonna fuckin’–fuck! Here it comes boy, here it fuckin’ comes!”

The pulsating sensation grew stronger, his father slamming in deep and holding his cock there, and the swelling grew even more substantial, giving him an odd bulging gut as the cum filled up his colon. When his father’s cock stopped pounding, he tried to remove himself, but Bruce grabbed his hips, and pulled him back, all the way down to the hilt.

“Sorry son, but I ain’t got a plug for ya, ‘n we gotta make sure you absorb all of that good, don’t we? Besides, don’t you like the feeling of your dad’s big cock deep in that ass of yours?

Nick didn’t answer–he just felt…strange. His skin was hot…and kind of itchy, but he did like the feeling of his dad’s cock in his ass, now that he was more used to it. His father held him tight, and kept talking, but Nick wasn’t really listening–well, a part of him was, but he was exhausted. He was asleep on the bed, snoring loudly, when Bruce finally pulled his cock free of his boy’s ass–and only a few dribbles of cum spilled out after him. He looked over and saw that Sean too, had fallen asleep, and Bruce smiled around his pipe. “Gonna be such good boys,” he said to himself, and then slipped from the motel room into the early morning, and headed for the diner to talk to his brother for a bit.

My Boys (Part 3)

Both boys kept sucking for several minutes, until first the fat cook shot his load, and Sean gulped it down, still unable to believe what his body was doing. He just felt…trapped inside, unable to stop himself, even as the smoke grew thicker around them…and there was so much of it. The cook’s fat gut kept spasming against Sean’s face, and it seemed like he was emptying the entire contents of his balls right into Sean’s belly.

“Yeah, that’s right boy, you’re fuckin’ thirsty, ain’t ya?” Bruce said. The gripped the table, his fat frame shaking…and shrinking, growing smaller and slimmer as Sean sucked him drier and drier, until his now much thinner, almost wasted arms fell slack at his side. Bruce had to reach over and forcibly separate Sean from the cook’s cock, feeling the cum settle uneasily in his gut, which rumbled, and he let forth a loud belch, which got a laugh from his father across the table. The cook, however, just stood there–eyes glassy, body limp, mouth slack and drooling.

He had been quite obese–probably close to 400 pounds, and quite tall. His body was mostly hairless and smooth, and his hairline was receding back over his crown, the messy curls only accenting it, but now his body was slender and pale, his breath shallow Sean looked down, and his eyes went wide–underneath the cooks short, thick cock, where there should have been a couple of balls, there was…nothing. Had he really just drained all the cum from the guy’s body? Bruce pushed Nick off his cock and got up from the booth. “Sorry, my boy was thirstier than I thought! Let me go ahead and fill you back up, if you don’t mind helpin’ me out in return. Got a lot of work to do, and I’ll need someone to keep an eye on my boys while I do some work for the next few days, you see, but I’ll need someone a bit…closer, you know?” He took his own cock’s thick, overhanging foreskin and slipped it over the cook’s semi-hard cock, “and I certainly can’t just leave you all empty like, now can I, and you were so good lookin, as a big guy–luckily I got just the thing to perk you back up.”

He started pumping his cock with one hand, and both Sean and Nick watched the cooks balls start to reinflate, as their father’s shrunk, and as he did, the cook’s skin grew healthier, his eyes returning to life, and his slender frame began to pack on fat once again, though he wasn’t nearly the size as before–that said, but Sean saw that the growth continued, even after Bruce pulled away, his heavy sack swinging. Their father’s sack was simply massive–larger than either could imagine someone’s balls being, and they had only shrunk slightly by the time the cook’s balls were at least normal looking again. “There, you feel a bit better, bro?”

The cook shook his head side to side, looked at Bruce, and nodded. “Yeah…yeah bro, th-thanks…”

Before their eyes, Nick and Sean saw something strange happening to the cook’s body–small changes, a tweak of the nose, his eyes turning green, his hair lightening and growing a bit straighter, and together, they saw that this cook, who seconds ago Sean had simply emptied, had become someone much closer to them–their own fat uncle.

“What do I owe you, bro?”

“Ah shucks, you…you know family eats free ‘round here. ‘N I always appreciate a tip or two from my nephew,” He reached over and ruffled Sean’s hair, the young man replying with a loud belch.

“When do you get off tonight?”

“Five A.M., like usual.”

“Well you’re gonna come stay with us, right? We’ll just be right here at the motel.”

“S-Sure thing, bro…”

“Come on boys, let’s get a room. Give your uncle a kiss before we go, though,” Bruce said, Nick and Sean getting up from the booth, each of them giving their fat uncle a long, deep kiss, before leaving the diner together. They got a room at the motel, both Sean and Nick desperately trying to will themselves free from whatever strange form of control their father’s smoke had over them both, but Sean in particular found himself feeling strange. He never ate that much food, of course, but his gut refused to stop grumbling, and he kept belching loudly. When he managed to ask his father why he felt so odd, Bruce gave him an answer that didn’t make him feel much better at all:

“Well you can’t think that you’d drink that much cum and nothing would happen, right? Don’t worry, you’re just gonna be taking after your uncle, I think, but you’re always gonna be my boy.”

Still, he let Sean have one bed to himself–Bruce and Nick took the other. “Yeah boy, your brother might have gotten a bit of a head start, but don’t you worry none–I got all sorts of cum stored up in here–we’ll have you lookin’ better in a few days time too. But I want that ass boy–works better that way anyway–so get on up there, and try not to scream too loud either.”

Nick tried to say no, he tried to resist, but his father pulled down his jeans and underwear, and got him up on the bed on all fours, where he first groped his son’s ass, spread the cheeks, and started licking at his son’s ass, still sweaty from sitting in the hot car all day long. Nick’s stomach retched at the thought of it, at the sensation of his father’s wiry beard scraping against his ass, at the sensation of his tongue probing deep inside, trying to try his hole looser. He was crying, but his tears weren’t doing anything for him–he couldn’t move, all he could do was whimper, and watch his brother Sean groan and belch and writhe in the next bed, groping his gut, Nick watching it expand in his hands.

“Fuck you’re tight,” Bruce said, and stood back up, gonna need a little somethin’ else, I think…” He grabbed his pipe, which he had set aside and let go out, and started cleaning it and getting it ready for another round, “Go on boy, give yourself a little finger while your Pa gets his pipe together.”

Nick reached back and started probing his hole with a finger, unable to believe what he was doing. It hurt, and Bruce scolded him, telling him to get it wet first. Nick didn’t realize what he meant–his father had to tell him to lick his finger first, so it would slip in better. Nick gagged at the taste of his ass already on his finger, but did as he was told. When Bruce had the pipe ready, he leaned back over, took a deep breath of smoke, pressed his lips to his son’s hole, and pushed the smoke into him. Immediately, Nick sighed–nearly screamed, really, at the pleasure. His ring went slack, and when his father resumed his tonguing, he was pleased to find Nick offered no resistance at all. In fact, judging by his boys eager whimpers, he was rather enjoying the treatment all of the sudden. Yeah, his boy was good and ready, and he could already feel his big balls churning with excitement.