Suggested Story: House of Fears

Something a bit strange and silly for Halloween. I do little sketches like this for Patrons a few times a month, based on their requests! If you aren’t supporting me over there, and have some ideas for stories, that’s the best way to get me to write them. This month, we also had a rather eccentric veterinarian performing heart surgery, and a fellow trying out a new fantasy game on a VR system that gets a bit too real for him.

“Please, there’s no way it can actually work like that,” Derek said, as he and his friends from the wrestling team all waited in line for the haunted house.

“I’m fucking serious dude,” Jay said, “Marc went last week, told them he was scared of bats, and the whole fucking place was fucking full of them!”

“Well no shit, that’s fucking easy!” Derek said, “They probably already have a bunch of shit in there. People are always gonna say obvious fucking shit like that.”

It was a new kind of haunted house, or at least, that’s what they were advertising it as. Completely personalized–whatever you were scared of, the place would be full of it–and a lot of people were saying it was true. But Derek thought it was bullshit, obviously. There was just no way it could possibly be true, that they had a scenario for everyone’s weird ass fears. So he decided, right then and there, that he would do something to show them. “Tell you guys what, I’m gonna tell them I’m afraid of something so stupid, they’ll never be able to come up with something for it.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

Derek thought for a second, “How about milk, man? Who the fuck could be afraid of milk?”

The other guys on the team all laughed, but they all agreed it sounded like a funny idea, and it wasn’t like Derek was going to take it seriously anyway. They got to the front of the line a little while later, and the attendant let them in one person at a time. Derek was sent into the complex, and found himself in a little black room, where a guy in a rather realistic werewolf makeup was waiting for him. “Tell me your fear, so you may pass through our gauntlet of terror,” he said in some spooky voice that just made Derek want to giggle, but he tried to control himself.

“I’m afraid…I’m afraid of milk,” he said, but couldn’t control himself, and just started laughing in the guy’s face, but the man didn’t react. He hit some button of some lever or something, a trap door opened under Derek, and he slid down a slide for a while and landed at the bottom on a dingy mattress in the dark.

“What the fuck, where the fuck am I?” he said, and looked around. The floor and the walls were all stone–real stone, not some fake shit, and it was all lined with torches. He started down the passageway, amazed at how real it was, but there sure wasn’t any milk anywhere–this didn’t make much sense at all to him, really. He went down the passage, and came to a fork in the path, and then another one beyond the first–it was a maze, or a labyrinth of some sort, wasn’t it? He hadn’t bothered to trace his way at all, and so all he could do was wander blindly through the halls, though occasionally he would hear noises. The scrape of something hard against the stone, and then a scent on the air, a bit rank, like…like spoiled or sour milk. It was freaking him out a bit, and he walked faster, until he came to a large chamber–the center of the maze, and there, he found himself staring at the minotaur.

He was massive, at least eight feet tall, and heavily muscled. But what Derek found himself staring at was the minotaur’s cock–a massive, two foot long bull’s cock, leaking thick white cum onto the stone floor, and the minotaur’s overdeveloped pecs were leaking the same thing, while the beast leered at him. “Come on then, get your milk boy,” he growled, and charged at him.

It was a haunted house, right? He couldn’t actually touch him. But the beast barrelled into him, and started tearing off his clothes as he laughed, and then forced Derek’s mouth against one nipple, holding him there, forcing him to drink down the rank, sour milk coming from his teats. It was disgusting, but he couldn’t stop himself from swallowing, and as he did, his body began to change, growing fatter and pudgier by the moment, until the minotaur dropped the once husky wrestler to the floor, who was now over 300 pounds, with a gut full of milk.

“That’s looking better already–but this bull needs a real cowboy to play with,” he said, rolled Derek over, and started working his cock into his hole, lubed up with just his milk, pumping him full from the other end, and Derek kept changing. He grew fatter and fatter still, passing 400, and then 500 pounds. HIs cock and balls began to engorge, until they looked like one massive teat, and began to leak milk of his own all over the stone floor, making a puddle underneath him, his fat tits doing the same, as black and white fur covered his body from head to toe, little horns poking out from his temple, as he mooed and lowed in pain from the minotaur’s cock fucking him. At last, the beast came, and the milk pumped his so full that he gagged, and it spewed out of his mouth, all over the ground in front of him.

“Don’t worry cowboy, we have all night in here before I have to let you go, and we’re just getting started,” the minotaur said, and worked his cock in again.

“Where the hell is he? He went in second.”

“Don’t fucking know–do you think he really said milk like an idiot?”

“Of course he did.”

“Is that him? There he is!”

Derek was stumbling out of the exit of the haunted house, back to his normal body, but he could barely speak to any of his friends, as they ushered him away from the house, asking him what had happened to him. He couldn’t bear repeating it to any of them–it had been too nightmarish, but when Derek flipped out after seeing the milk boxes at school the next day, none of them knew what to make of it.

Every night, he dreamed of the minotaur, and every time, he had to run, and run, and run through the labyrinth and escape him. He knew if the minotaur caught him…he wouldn’t wake up. He’d be stuck there, as the monster’s perverted little cowboy for the rest of his life, and he would wake up screaming, hard as a rock and soaked in precum, unable to talk about what was happening to him to anyone, not even his friends in the dorm, or his parents. On the morning after Halloween, his roommate woke up to find that Derek wasn’t in his bed–and no one on campus had seen him either. They searched for him, but there were no clues at all–it was like he had just vanished from his bed.

The minotaur had caught him, and now Derek was in the maze forever, massively obese and soaked in milky cum, all because he thought milk couldn’t be scary at all.

Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 9)

“God damn it, get the fuck back here, you little fuck, I’m gonna fuck your hole and then tear new ones in you and fuck those too!” Ken roared as he chased the imp through the halls, his rock hard, rubberized cock swinging painfully as he ran through the halls, shoving his way through all of the other freaks and men fucking in the dark as the night came to a climax. He saw a clock as he ran, giving him about an hour and a half before the window of escape closed off forever, and he was stuck here. While this wasn’t exactly…bad, he still had no intention of letting that imp get away with his tag–and with his life.

But as he ran, it was getting harder and harder to ignore all of the men–and especially all of the holes–he was passing by. His cock was aching for a fuck, and he…well, he was built to fuck, wasn’t he? He was a hot fucking top, and every hole needed him inside of it, pumping his cum deep into their guts, showing them who was really in charge in these halls, warping and changing them into freaks just like him, and–

He had to stop for a moment, and try and get his head back under control. That wasn’t him, that was this fucking gear trying to think for him. He wasn’t going to be whatever freak this place wanted him to be–he wasn’t! He saw the imp round a corner up ahead in the halls, and took off after him, growling. There was only one hole that he really wanted in this whole fucking place after all, and he wasn’t going to give up until he got it.

He rounded the same corner at top speed, and ran right into another person, sending them both tumbling to the floor of the hallway in a tangle, that Ken struggled to extract himself from. By the time he got himself out, he looked down the hallway, and realized he’d lost the imp in the mess. “Fuck! God fucking damn it!” he shouted, and whirled on the man he’d crashed into, “You fucking piece of shit, he got away! I…why I oughta…F-Fuck! Fuck you!”

The man on the ground looked up at him in a bit of terror. He was a bit older, and a little chubby. He must have entered the area later than Ken had–he still had on his black shorts, and even had his clothes tag around his arm. “Please…please don’t, I just want to get out of here! Don’t hurt me, please…”

Ken growled at him, and kicked him in the gut, sending him to the ground, gagging…and seeing that, Ken smiled cruelly. Fuck…it felt real fucking good, hurting him, and he gave him another kick in the balls, just to make sure he stayed down. “Fucking faggot–fucking pig, I’ll fucking do whatever I fucking want to you–you’re fucking mine, understand?”

The man tried to crawl away from him, but Ken grabbed him by the hips and dragged him back, tearing open the back of his shorts like they were paper, and shoved his rubber cock between the man’s fat ass cheeks. He could feel him…shudder, the fucking bitch wanted it, didn’t he?

“You fucking want this, don’t you? This big fucking cock in your sloppy pig hole,” he growled at him, as he kept fucking the man’s cheeks, his cock starting to leak a thick, black, rubbery cum.

“I…fuck, please Sir, please…fuck this slutty faggot’s hole Sir…”

He couldn’t afford to get distracted. He couldn’t do this–right now, that fucking imp was probably heading for the exit, Ken’s tag in hand, and if he didn’t get there first to intercept him…there was no way he was going to get out of here in his own body. But this…this fucking hole, he needed it. He needed it in a way he could barely articulate, like it was his purpose. He was a fucking top–and when a hole like this presented itself, begging to be used like this, how could he possibly say no? He pushed the head in, and shuddered, the strange cum working as lube, the man moaning in pain, trying to pull away, but that only made Ken grab him by the hips and drag him back, inch by inch, his massive cock slipping inside him.

“That’s it faggot, just fucking take it like a good bitch,” he said.

“Oh…oh fuck Sir, it’s so big!”

“Trust me, you aren’t going to want any other dick other than mine one I’m through with you,” he added…but Ken also knew that if he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t want anything else too. Looking up, he saw…the teeth in the darkness. The Master of the Halls was there, observing, wanting to see his new top’s first performance for himself, and…part of him was excited. Excited that Master wanted to see him, excited that Master…no–no, this isn’t right, it isn’t what he should be, is it?

He looked down, and saw the tag around the man’s arm. He looked back at the Master’s teeth. He thought about the imp, scurrying through the halls. He had to make a decision, but what?

This next one is the last entry! Here’s the bonus patron poll as well. I’ll start something new next week, that may or may not be holiday related–haven’t decided yet.

Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 8)

“Please, no more, don’t…I don’t, get off me!” Ken shouted, trying to force the men swarming him away, but there were too many.

“Can we make him a top sir? Can we?”

“We need more tops, so many holes, not enough tops!”

Some of them were holding him down at this point, looking up at the Master of the Halls, and his shadowed face, and those leering teeth. “Sure, why don’t you all make him a top, since it sounds like you need one so badly.”

The freaks all laughed and tittered, and one of them brought over a strange sheath. It looked a bit like a dildo at first, but Ken saw that it was in fact hollow inside, and the freaks started working his cock until he was hard, and then they forced the sheath over his entire cock. It was a tight fit, and once they had that on, they took a similar sheath, pulled it open, forced his balls inside, and let that snap around them as well. Only then, did they release his arms, and Ken immediately tried to pull the rubber things off of him–only to discover that they wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t that the rubber pieces had stuck together–though they had–it was that they had stuck to him as well. He couldn’t find the seam where the rubber started and his flesh began, and as he tugged on the sheath, he realized…he could feel his hand against it, growing more and more sensitive, until he was moaning in pleasure, unable to stop, he was so turned on by the sensations coming from his new rubber cock, now permanently hard, eleven inches and thick as a beer can. His balls were churning as well, and he could feel them pumping something not out of his cock, but into him instead, and he began to feel some of the other changes start in his body.

He was growing taller, and thicker. Not fat–almost all of it was muscle. In a matter of moments, he went from a fairly average height and build to being six foot seven, and nearly 300 pounds, all of it thick, corded, powerful bulk, ready to force anyone he found into submission. He was growing hairier as well, especially across his chest, arms and back. Once he was finished expanding, the freaks went back to work, and started forcing more gear on his body–a thick cut leather harness, a pair of leather chaps, some biker boots, and lastly a hood that went over his face. He tried to pull it away, but it too had adhered to his skin somehow, and when he looked at himself in the mirror across the room, he no longer even recognized himself.

He was massive, his head and cock both sealed away in rubber, conforming to his every feature and vein, but somehow making them look even more masucline, and tough, and rugged, and violent, and…and fuck, he was hot, wasn’t he? He kept stroking his cock, and from the tip, some sort of strange, black, viscous material began to leak out and cover his hands–it quickly spread over his fingers and became a pair of black rubber gloves, just as impossible to remove as the mask or the sheath itself.

Horrified, he pulled his hand away, but his cock was aching for attention. No, not just attention, it was aching to fuck, to force its way inside some tight hole and ruin it–that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? He looked at himself, and tried to remember who he’d been, but the hood…was sucking it away from him, as hard as he was trying to keep it. He might have been lost to it, had the imp not appeared in the doorway, eyes wide at him, and then taken off down the hallway. With a growl, Ken pushed past the freaks and took off after him, thankful for his new size now. The imp was quick, but he was bigger now–if he stayed focused, he’d be able to catch him, and maybe even get his tag back.

So, what happens next? The public poll is below, and the patron only poll is over here!

Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 7)

“You really are quite handsome you know, it’s a shame I can’t take you with me,” the imp said as he fucked Ken’s hole in the dark room, “but someone is going to have to stay here and take my place with all of these freaks. You won’t mind that though, will you?”

“No Sir!” Ken cried, “Just…just please, don’t stop fucking me, please…”

“Yes, that is a good idea, I would like a memento of some sort, after all. I wasn’t quite sure what, but I think I know exactly what I’d like to take with me.”

The imp pulled himself free of Ken’s hole, making the man gasp in need. He pulled something new out, a little bottle of something like lube, and started squirting it all over Ken’s body. “Rub that in for me, my little slave. This will help you be a bit more…flexible, and I don’t want to touch it myself.”

Ken did as he was commanded, and rubbed the strange substance all over his body–down to his feet and his toes, massaged it into his cock, all over his head and hair, even fingering himself with it, and coating the inside of his mouth–being sure to swallow a little too. It felt…gummy and rubbery at first, almost like a thick silicone lube, but it absorbed into his body, and after it did, his skin felt…strange. Hot for a moment, but then…well, he didn’t quite know how to describe the sensation at all.

When the imp was sure it was dry, he decided to give it a test–he reached around the base of Ken’s cock and balls with his fingers, and started tightening them into a ring. It didn’t…hurt, really, but it was oddly uncomfortable. Ken could see his entire cock and balls pulling free of his body, just a strand of flesh connecting them–and then they came away in the imp’s hands. Ken could somehow still…feel them, which was even more disconcerting, as the imp turned his cock and balls over, gave his shaft a stroke, making Ken shudder in confusion. “Hmmm…I think I need one more thing though, if I’m going to keep fucking you. Roll over Slave.”

Ken did, one hand going to his now nullified crotch, confused by the smooth, rubbery skin there instead, wondering what exactly his Master was going to do to him now. The imp did the same thing around Ken’s asshole, pulling it off of his body entirely, and sticking it to the root of Ken’s cock and balls–then, while Ken rolled back over, the imp slid his cock into Ken’s rubbery hole, and he moaned in delight. He could feel the imp’s cock sliding deep into not just his ass, but inside his cock as well–it was…fuck, he’d never felt anything like it before in his life.

“There, that’s a nice gift for me, Slave. When I’m living your life for you, I’ll be sure to use your hole and cock often, to make sure you know I’m thinking about you in here. For now though, why don’t we make you fit in with this monstrous place a little more?” the imp cackled, and started working Ken’s body under his hands, pulling and twisting and stealing and stretching him into all sorts of new shapes, until he found one he liked most.

Ken’s head was forced into his body entirely, his arms twisted and warped until they were another set of arms and feet like the others. He could now only walk around on all fours–though slowly, because both sets of feet were pointed away from each other. Where his head had been, was now his mouth–his teeth pulled out like little rubber plugs, and his tongue grown to insane proportions. It hung from his gaping mouth now almost a foot, and was fully prehensile–and covered with drool.

For his other end, the imp had to improvise, and built a second hole out of his nose–two gaping, hairy cavities perfect for fucking–or whatever else the strange beasts of this place would use him for. The imp shifted one eye to each end, so he could mostly see where he was going–and then added an ample supply of hair all over his new form, making him look more like some hairy beast than the man he once was. Ken wanted to thank his master, but could no longer speak–so he ate out the imp’s hole with his long tongue while his Master fucked his new toy, making Ken shudder and grunt until his cock sprayed cum all over the floor–but then, it was time for the imp to leave.

Ken still wanders the halls, though he no longer has a name. He’s just another freak among many, always looking for bodies to service, relishing those moments when he feels the imp’s hands around his cock, his cock sliding into his hole–happy that he can still be of service to his Master.

An End

Alright, that one was a bit shorter, so we have time for one more! Here’s some options on spots to restart from, some are the same as last time, some are different! Here’s the bonus poll for Patrons too.

Business as Usual

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

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

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

Continue reading →

Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 6)

Back to the beginning…

Ken gave chase through the halls of Pigtown, doing his best to avoid the groping and grasping hands of the monsters surrounding him on every side, while still keeping his eye on the imp darting down, around corners, deeper and deeper into the complex with every turn, until Ken was most certainly lost. It wasn’t long before the other figures in the hall became less numerous, the lights darker and dimmer, and he came to an abrupt halt–the imp was in front of him, standing at a dead end, facing him, his clothes check dangling from his fingers.

“Give me that back, I need it,” Ken said.

“Oh, I know you need it, fella, I was counting on you needing it real badly. The only problem is, I need it too, you see?” the imp said, “I was like you a few years ago, wandering in here stupidly. Look at me now–and the only way out is one of the tags off you stupid fucks, who are dumb enough to come wandering in here. Still, the night is young, and not many people come down this far, we have quite a few hours to have some fun, don’t you think?”

Before Ken could do anything else, the imp leaped at him, and as he did, he flung some sort of powder in his face. It was incandescent in the darkness somehow, and got in his eyes, in his nose and throat, making him cough and sneeze for a moment, stumbling around blindly, until he managed to pry his eyes open. He saw the imp there, leaning against the stone hallway…and the only thing he could feel was…was love. No, not love, desire. Infatuation. It was immediate, and overwhelming, and he stumbled forward and fell to his knees, unable to look this beautiful creature in the face, it was simply too much for him to bear.

“There, that’s what I want to see,” the imp said, “Come over here, why don’t you take care of this for me, slave.”

“Yes! Yes Sir, yes Master!” Ken said, crawled forward, took the imp’s sizable cock in his mouth and started sucking as hard as he could, desperate to please him, thrilled that he could be so privileged as to be…be the slave of someone so perfect as this impish fellow.

“Oh yes, that’s very good slave. Do you like the taste of your Master’s cock?”

“Yes Sir! Thank you Sir!” Ken mumbled around the imp’s cockhead, swirling it around in his mouth, looking up at him in such profound adoration, all thoughts of the outside world, of the tag, of anything other than this short, handsome devilish man, running out his mind like a sieve. They no longer mattered–the only thing that mattered was serving him in whatever way he desired, no matter what.

“Well, I see the old charm powder still packs quite a punch,” the imp said, grabbed the back of Ken’s head, and fucked his throat for a few minutes, before pushing him off, and dangling the tag in front of his face. “I think this is going to be just fine for us both. Tell me, Slave, are you alright if I take this tag off your hands?”

“Of course Sir, all of my things are yours.”

“Even your life? You don’t mind if I walk out of here in your clothes, and in your body, and just leave you in here to rot until next Halloween, if your mind survives that long?”

“No Sir, whatever you desire, you should have.”

“Oh, you say such sweet things to me Slave,” the imp said, “Now turn around, you want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

“Oh yes Sir! Thank you Sir, I want to feel you inside me, please fuck me, please…” Ken said, and spun around, shoving his ass back towards the little imp, who took his spit slick cock and began pushing it against Ken’s hole, listening to his enslaved thrall start to moan and beg for it. So far, everything had gone exactly according to plan, and now he had a few hours to toy with this stupid fuck before he had to get back to the bar, retrieve Ken’s clothes and his life, and be gone from this nightmare for good. He still had so much to do though, before he could make that happen though–what is the next part of the imp’s plan for the charmed Ken?

Here’s the next poll! The patron bonus poll is over here as well.

Caption: Brownnoser Brother

Patrons who are on my discord server get exclusive access to all of my caption stories as I write them! This one is in three parts–here’s the first one for you. If you’d like to become a patron and support my writing, you can find out more info here!

I couldn’t believe the fucking nerve of my fucking brother, texting me out of the blue like that. I should back up a bit, I guess. He was always the black sheep of the family, four years older than I was, and he’d always hated me. Resented me is a better word I guess. Even in my earliest memories, he was always a bully, picking on me, setting me up to take the fall for shit I didn’t do, but our parents always sided with me, which probably only served to piss him off even more. When he was a teenager, shit went even more sideways–he started drinking a lot, falling in with some guys at school that were real pieces of work, probably got involved in some drug shit though I never saw any proof. He dropped out–well, he was expelled–my parents kicked him to the curb when he was 17, and that was that for a while. My dad always had a soft spot for him and kept in touch, hoping he would turn things around, but nothing ever worked, and I mostly pushed him out of mind as I went off to college. The last time I saw him, a year ago, was for my grandmother’s funeral–he looked like garbage, stank to high heaven, couldn’t even be bothered to dress up. He came because he needed money, and thought he was getting some! Even that was enough to turn my dad against him too, and that was the last I heard from him, until I got the text today, asking me for money!

He wanted 200 dollars. I told him to fuck off. Before I could block his number though, he sent me a nasty fucking insult, calling me a “faggot brownnoser,” with a little tongue emoji to go with it. It was enough to set me off really, but what could I do? I got dressed and headed into work–I’d gotten a summer internship at a local tech firm that was going really well, and I couldn’t let my brother fuck that up for me.

Still, I felt…weird all morning. Angry, sure, but like something else was off, something I couldn’t really explain. I got an email from my boss before lunch, asking me to come by so we could discuss some details of my project, and I went to his office…and that was where it happened.

My boss didn’t even wait for me to get into the office before he stood up, dropped his pants and underwear, and bent over the side of his desk. “Well come on then, you faggot brownnoser,” he said, “Get to fucking work.”

I wanted to tell him to eat shit, go right to HR and report his ass…but instead, something took hold of me, and I got down and started eating out his hole, right there in his office, my cock hard as a rock, while he kept berating me, telling me what a worthless fuck I was, that the only reason he kept me around at all, was because I loved eating out dirty holes like his. I was horrified, but I couldn’t stop–and he made me sniff his underwear, tell him how much I loved the smell of the brown streak in the back of his briefs, all the while stroking my own cock.

He turned around and shot his load across my face, and I came in my pants–then he kicked me out of his office, telling me he wanted me back after he’d had his afternoon shit, and I fled. I was so fucking humiliated, I didn’t know what to do–but I sure as hell wasn’t going to go back there. I packed my bag and left the building–horrified at myself, the words still ringing in my mind–and I realized it was the same thing my brother had called me. It couldn’t be possible I told myself–it was just some fucked up dream. I needed to get something to eat, calm down, and call HR–but my brother’s curse was just getting started.

Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 5)

“I know you probably won’t appreciate this, pig, but let me tell you–from my own experience, it will be better this way,” the imp said, and jumped back up to the ceiling, pulled a lever, and a few moments later, the taste and consistency of the mash flowing into his mouth…changed. The taste was vile–musky and rank and dirty and…and delicious. He panicked, trying to keep from swallowing the filth, but the tube forced itself deeper into him, and he had to choice as it was pumped directly into his guts.

“See, that first Halloween, no one…destroyed me. I had to survive here, my mind witnessing everything in this darkness, all year long. It was horrifying. No one should have to go through what I did. This is better. Better to just be what you’re going to be, don’t you think? Give in, never have to worry about that old life of yours? Just let yourself be the dirty, shameful, disgusting pig you were meant to be, from the moment you stepped in here.”

Ken was still struggling, but he could feel it. The filth was…warping him. He could distingish some of the flavors now–piss from the urinals, cum from the dumps, mud and muck from the floors washed down the drains, the tang of shit even, at the back of his throat. He wasn’t getting fatter, but something else was happening, he could…smell himself, and it was the same heady musky of the filth being pumped into him. He stank of a toilet, and a filthy sock, and a cumsoaked armpit, all at the same time, and…and he loved it. His mind was fading, shifting. He was oinking and squealing, his cock leaking all over the floor beneath him. The surface of his latex clad body was changing as well, the rubber growing…moist. Not with sweat, but with some vile, slick scum–a goo seeping ring out from his rubber pores and sliding down his skin and onto the floor under him.

“Don’t worry piggy–all you have to do is cum, and the hose will release you. The sooner you embrace it, the more of a mind you’ll have left–so I suggest you start working that piggy cock into that fat of yours quickly. I, however, have a party to leave–and a new lease on life. Enjoy it–maybe I’ll pay you a visit next year.”

The imp was gone, leaving the pig all alone in the cage, swallowing down the muck, grinding his cock mindlessly between his gut and the floor for a few minutes until he came, squealing in delight at the mess he was making, at the filthy mess he was. He wasn’t…the same, as he squeezed out of the cage. The muck he’d been dropping wasn’t just…coming from him, it was him, he was made of that same filth, his pig face slumping and drooling off him as he walked, reforming again as he lost bits of himself to the floor, in a trail of black slime as he crawled into the room, sniffing and snorting for filth he could devour, hungrier than he could have ever imagined being in his life.

“Hello? Hello!”

He looked up at the sound of a voice, as a young man, somehow still in his black attire from the party, stumbled around the corner. He was missing his clothes tag, took one look at the nightmarish rubber pig in front of him, and froze. Before he could do anything, however, Ken was on him, his gooey body sticking to the man’s flesh as he screamed, dragging him down, eating away at his clothes, while Ken’s cock, the last firm thing left on his body, starting probing for the man’s hole. He was screaming, so Ken covered his mouth in goo, the substance hardening quickly, the man’s mouth now covered by a patch of black rubber that melded seamlessly with his skin, only able to breathe through his nose.

“So…hungry…” Ken grunted in the man’s ear, as he fucked him, and as he did, his body began to lose…shape, flowing down around the man, engulfing him slowly into Ken’s own form. The man’s body, warped by the filth, was beginning to lose firmness as he was sucked into the pig, Ken’s cock drilling deeper and deeper until it forced it’s way out the other side of the man’s body, through his own cock, the man shuddering in something like an orgasm as he felt the monster’s filth begin to dissolve and eat away at his body, absorbing him into the pig as a new part of him, his mind locked away with Ken’s, forever trapped inside this monstrous, rubber beast eager to devour anything in sight.

Then, it was four o’clock, and the lights shut off. Trapped in the dark, with only the other monsters for company. Until next year at least–and by this, this pig would be starving.

–An Ending–

Alright, let’s go back and pick up the story somewhere else! Here’s some options. A few are new, and one is a popular path that didn’t get picked from this last little chunk. The bonus poll for Patrons is over here as well!

Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 4)

Ken pressed against the bars of the cage, trying to force the bars to grow back out, but they refused to budge. He was left with maybe a few inches of clearance on all sides of him, and there wasn’t a door to be seen anywhere, on any side of the bars. Ken squealed for help as best he could, but he couldn’t form words with his rubber pig face at all–and the imp just sat there, looking smug, like he was certain that he’d won.

“You might want to be a bit quieter piggy. I know you want someone to help you, but in this place, all you’re going to find is someone looking to fuck a hole like yours–and I can assure you, there are not many men around who you would want to fuck you right now, in your predicament. So why don’t you calm down, and just accept it? You lost, I won. Now I get what I want.”

It was the first words that the imp had spoken, that Ken had heard all night, and he was surprised the creature could even talk, especially as ugly and monstrous as it was. It’s voice was certainly ugly though–high pitched and screechy, though easy enough to understand. None of the other monsters he’d passed in the halls had seemed to have this much…presence of mind.

“Been two years. Two long fucking years, since a few of those monsters got hold of me one Halloween, and warped me into this fucking thing. Can’t tell you how fucking hard it’s been, holding onto myself all this fucking time here, don’t think I could make it another year. But I got lucky with you–caught you early enough to snag your tag. Now all I have to do is make sure you can’t make it back out to contest it–and I’m home free.”

Ken realized, at last, what the imp’s plan was all along. He wanted the tag…so he could leave. He was going to leave Ken here in this nightmare to rot, and this fucking imp was going to go out and claim Ken’s life as his own! Ken redoubled his efforts against the cage, angrily butting his head against it, swinging from side to side, but it refused to budge–all it did was exhaust him.

“Now now, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your body. You were so handsome, you know. Before…well, before you went all piggy. Maybe I’ll come back next year–I know my way around this place now, and check in on you. See if you managed to hold up as well as I have. I don’t think so, honestly–you seem pretty thick to me–though you could be thicker, couldn’t you?”

The imp laughed, and launched himself up to the ceiling. Ken looked up and saw a bunch of pipes up there around the ceiling, and the imp grabbed one, and dragged a hose back down with him. “Alright piggy–I don’t think you quite look the part yet, do you? Aren’t pigs supposed to be fatter?”

It was true–while the suit had warped his body, it hadn’t really changed his basic shape. Ken tried to shrink back into the cage, but there was nowhere to go–the imp pushed the hose against his mouth, and the thing came alive–forcing open Ken’s snout and filling his snout, latching on and refusing to come off. Something churned overhead and a thick slop started flowing down the hose–Ken’s only choice was to swallow as quickly as he could, or choke.

So he swallowed–and the more he swallowed, the easier it was to swallow, and as his belly grew more and more full, the…better he felt. The imp went around behind him, toying with his ass and his piggy cock, telling him what a good little piggy he was being, eating his slop. Slowly, weight began to show on his body–especially his gut, which began to distend–first firm, and then growing softer, his arms and legs losing definition and growing flabby, his ass growing wider too. He had two chins under his snout now, and he would have happily kept eating mindlessly if he hadn’t looked up at the wall, and seen the clock that told him it was almost three in the morning. He’d eaten the night away–he only had one hour left before he was trapped here forever. But he couldn’t stop eating–even after everything he’d eaten, he was hungry–so fucking hungry.

“Well Pig, it’s been fun this evening, but I’d better be on my way,” the imp said. “Still, don’t think I don’t have one more surprise for you before I leave–consider it a token of my gratitude, for giving me your life.”

Here’s the choices for this branch! All of these are endings of various natures–after this, we’ll go back and pick up another thread. The patron only version is over here as well!

Suggested Story: The Mad Veterinarian

I have a new story up for Patrons, based on a couple suggestions from last month and this month, dedicated to a certain someone. If you’d like to read it, check it out here! The suggestion box is still open by the way, and a bit bare this month, so if you’re a patron and want to see something from me, now’s the time to ask. Here’s a short preview of the story, to whet your appetites.

There were, it turned out, some things that massive amounts of money couldn’t buy. Albert was in his mid fifties, and his heart was failing him. Albert was rich, but he had a problem–he had a congenital defect that meant he couldn’t get a transplant–no matter how much he paid the doctors to tell him otherwise. He was struggling along as best he could, on medications and a pacemaker, but at his weight and age…the prognosis did not look good. But Albert hadn’t become a rich man by giving up–and he certainly wasn’t about to give up on this now, not with his very life at stake.

He turned to the black market instead, but again, he found himself thwarted by his own body’s weaknesses. Even shady surgeons wouldn’t touch him–it was simply too risky. That, in the end, is what led him here, to this little veterinarian clinic out in the middle of nowhere. It turned out that there was a possible solution to his problem–at least, an experimental one. Doctors had been testing out replacing human hearts with pig hearts as transplants, but the trials were in the very early stages. Still, where there was medicine, and money, certain hoops could be jumped through, and this vet came highly recommended–as highly recommended as one could come off the black market.

The conditions had been strict. Albert had to come alone, and he could tell no one where he was going. If he survived the procedure, and all was well, in three weeks he’d return to his life, all the better. If not…well, this was the only chance, wasn’t there? The clinic was run by a single doctor, who served the entire county–Dr. Pontiac. He was a muscular fellow, hairy with a large beard, and a rather stern face. He gave Albert his exam, and told him they were good to go–he would do the surgery that night.

Albert had expected a little more prep time, but Dr. Pontiac insisted. He’d just had a carcass come in, perfect shape for what was necessary, presently on ice. It was now, or he would have to wait days, or possibly weeks–and Dr. Pontiac assured Albert that he might not have weeks in his current state. So Albert was stripped down, taken into the operating room of the little veterinary hospital. He could hear the sounds of animals all around him, as Dr. Pontiac and his assistant prepared him for his surgery. Then the mask was over his face, and the last thing he saw before he went under, was Dr. Pontiac smiling down at him, assuring him that when he woke up, he would feel like a brand new animal.

Read the rest on my Patreon here!