Patrons at the $5 tier or higher get access to more captions in this series on my discord server!
But maybe you’re tired of daddies telling you what to do. Maybe, for a change, you want a daddy to do what you way. Someone more pliable, someone too weak to call the shots. A daddy who might look the part, but in the bedroom, he knows who’s really in charge.
A daddy like this one. See that slouch, the shoulders forward and back hunched? The tiny cock that can barely even get hard? The tired eyes that don’t really want to make contact? It isn’t that he’s broken–a broken daddy wouldn’t be very interesting for anyone. He does know his place however. He knows who’s in charge, and it isn’t him. He knows he’s a bottom, a punching bag, a hole, a whore even, if you have some friends over. That isn’t to say, however, that he isn’t going to change you.
You say you want to be in charge, but are you really ready for it? Do you have the patience for his simpering, his laziness, his fecklessness? Are you really ready to make every decision, and then watch him like a hawk to make sure he doesn’t fuck up the directions you thought were so simple? Do you have the patience? How long until you lash out, until the belt is in your hand, and after the belt, the strap, and after the strap, the flogger, and after the flogger, the bull whip? He knows he deserves it, even before you do–and that makes you angry too. You’re so angry, angry at what he makes you do to him, angry at how good it feels, doing it.
When did you start wearing so much leather, and when did you get those tattoos? Your old friends slowly slide out of the picture, unused to dealing with someone so overbearing, and rude, and at times abusive, as you are now. You find some new friends, friends who understand your problems. Perhaps they have stupid daddies of their own, and you can have parties, and take turns with them all, enjoying them, berating them all. You do know this, however–this isn’t who you wanted to be, but it is who your daddy demanded you become.
I did a collection of four of these captions, for different kinds of daddies available through Arctos. If you’d like to read the rest, or have suggestions for you own, you can submit them on my discord server, available to all patrons who support me at the $5 tier or higher, over on my Patreon here!
Not happy with your current daddy? Arctos has the perfect solution, no matter what sort of daddy you’re looking for, from our broad range of models, we can make sure you have the familial experience you’re looking for. Perhaps you’re more interested in a daddy who you could just sit down and crack open a beer with. Or twelve beers with. This daddy doesn’t care as long as you both have plenty.
This daddy doesn’t judge you. He doesn’t care if your aren’t working, he doesn’t care if you’re a failure, he just wants you to be happy. He wants you to be able to relax. He’ll help you sort out your priorities real quick, convincing you to quit overworking yourself, and instead, focus on the simple pleasures of life, cracking open a beer on the couch with your dad, watching some sports, or some porn, and just jacking each other off all afternoon, and all evening, and all night, and all morning too, while you’re at it.
After all, this daddy doesn’t want you to worry about work, or responsibilities, or anything at all–he just wants you to relax. Under his guidance, you can be sure that all of your worries will melt away and disappear–that job you hate, that school work, the other friends and commitments in your life. You won’t want to get up from the couch ever again, and this daddy will be more than happy to make sure that you don’t have to–that you won’t even be able to, eventually.
After all, he loves you just the way you are. All seven, or maybe eight, hundred pounds of you. The stench rolling off of you from where you’ve been sitting on the couch for months straight. The fact that you just shit and piss yourself constantly. The fact that your brain is so empty that you can barely even understand what’s happening on the TV anymore. He loves you so much, and he’ll do everything for you, so that you don’t have to, so you can just relax, and relax, and relax, for ever and ever and ever…
When Brodie got the package, he was, admittedly, a bit confused. When he’d signed up as a tester for an underwear company, he’d been hoping for something a bit more exciting than, well, this. Inside the package was just a single pair of basic looking y-front briefs, in mock packaging. The label said they were part of a product line called “Dad Gear” from some company called Arctos. It certainly didn’t make him anymore excited to wear them, but his contract said that he had to test them out for 24 hours, and then submit his review online.
He pulled the briefs on, and was surprised that they were so comfortable. They had seemed a bit baggy at first, but the elastic helped keep them up well, and he stood there for a second, just…enjoying the feel of it, before wandering off towards the couch, completely forgetting to put on more clothes. It was the weekend, and he had a long list of chores to do–instead, he sat down in front of the TV, flipped channels, and settled on a sports channel, watching it raptly for half an hour, before getting up, going to the kitchen, and returning with a beer and some snacks that he started chowing down on.
Brodie woke with a start, hours later, in the middle of the night, still on the couch. The TV was on, now showing some late night infomercial, and he realized that he had to piss like a racehorse. He tried to get up from the couch, but it was…a struggle for some reason that he couldn’t quite pin down. Eventually, he managed to force his way up, tromped into the bathroom to piss, and then made his way back to the sofa, where he sat back down in his comfortable dent. As he sat, he let off a fart, and he chuckled to himself–then started flipping channels.
There wasn’t a whole lot on, but he found another sports something, a feature on wrestlers, and he found himself getting horny, watching the burly fellows grapple with each other. Before too much longer, he’d blown a wad right into the underwear, and not too long after that, he was snoring again, gut growing larger, more tattoos filling in across his body, forgetting all about his younger days. His review was, needless to say, incredibly positive, if also a bit lewd. He also went ahead and ordered some more products from the Daddy Gear line–it was right up his alley after all, just the perfect demographic.
Ken didn’t know how much time had passed for him, before he woke again. He was still in the gurnery he’d been in before, but he was in a different room–one without the machines observing his vitals, and the IV drip into his arm had been removed, and was bandaged up. He could still remember lying there in pain, Harris looking down at him from the side of the bed, and then he had passed out–he hadn’t woken up once since then, that he could recall. Had it been hours? Days? There was no window, and no clock–the room just had a mirror (most likely a one way mirror, he supposed), and a door, but he felt too exhausted to even try and sit up.
Something had happened to him, to his body. He could tell that much, just from how much everything still ached, from his face and mouth and nose, down to his legs and ankles. There was an odd smell in the room as well, something…like a barnyard, as well, and he could still hear the nightmarish cries of terror and pain coming from all around him, but they seemed sharper, or perhaps closer, than they had been. Finally, he lifted his head, looked down at his body, and screamed–or at least, he tried to scream. The sound was just as inhuman and horrifying as every other noise surrounding him in this place, but there was no other reaction he could have had, to the nightmarish body below him.
His torso was thicker, almost the size of a barrell, and was covered in thick, brown hair. The same with his shoulders and arms, and the muscles were so thick now. He raised one paw to his face, and from the short black claws, and the black pads where his palm had been, he realized that his arms, and his chest, were that of a grizzly bear. Below that, attached to his hips, the long brown fur shortened and grew mottled, a lighter brown and white, with thick legs and rump, all the way down to two massive hooves where his feet should have been–like a minotaur.
He swung the heavy legs off the side of the bed and sat up as best he could, facing the mirror on the wall, and there he could glimpse his new face as well–small beady eyes, a pig’s snout, heavy brow, floppy pink ears, with two bull horns also coming out from his temples–short, perhaps, but from the pain in his skull, they might still be growing. That left his cock, which had begun to slide out of his sheath, corkscrewing as it did, but massive–with a huge set of bull balls swinging below, and a bull’s tail swishing behind him on the bed.
Tentatively, he stood up, trying to figure out how to balance on his new feet, and when he did, the mirror in front of him clarified into a window, and there, watching him, was Harris. The rage that boiled up in him was terrifying, even to Ken, and he charged forward, slamming his horns into the barrier, but all he did was bounce back, and fall on his rear. Harris laughed–he could hear him through the intercom of the room, and then he said, “Well, pet, I must say that you’ve exceeded all of my expectations, and I think you’ll have a buyer, as soon as we tame you. Just relax–the faster to let go, the more I might let you keep of that old self of yours, instead of just reducing you to a stupid, docile beast.”
The mirror returned a moment later, and then it became a screen, projecting a series of colorful swirls and spirals, and before Ken could look away, his eyes were sucked into the pattern, his mind disarmed as words poured out of the intercom, telling him was a stupid beast he was, that he wasn’t human, that he was meant to service men, that he was a pet, that he was obedient, that he wanted to be this way, treated this way, abused this way, that he deserved it. Harris just watched, groping his cock, and went down a couple cells to one of the beasts well along the way towards being fully conditioned for release, and fucked the desperate animal, pleased with his newest acquisition, and eager to see just how readily the thing would debase itself for Harris’ pleasure.
I think this will be the end of Arctos: Mall for a little while, though I might revisit it again in the future. There will be a short intermission for interactives–I’ll have a new one to start next week!
Ken didn’t know where he was, when he woke up. All he was aware of was that it was mostly dark, it smelled like both his dentist’s office and a barnyard, and he could hear some…rather inhuman racket coming from somewhere around him, through the walls. The noises were disturbing–some of them were squawks and roars and howls, other sounds were like claws running across plates of metal, and some were even cries and moans of lust. He tries to sit up and get a better look around him, but he couldn’t–his wrists and ankles were shackled to the hospital gurney he’d woken up on, and looking up around, he saw that he was hooked up to all manner of monitoring devices, with an IV drip pumping into his arm.
He struggled for a couple of minutes, trying to get loose, but it was no use. He wasn’t sure whether he should cry out for help or not–juding from the sounds around him, he might not want anything else to know he was here. Where in the world was Harris, and what did this have to do with offering him some sort of job? In the end, he decided to stay quiet–this was just some…misunderstanding, he was sure. He just had to explain himself, and when Harris came back, he’d let him go, right? It wasn’t like he was some deranged psycho–why in the hell would someone like that be running a pet store?
It was quite a while before he heard the door to the room unlock, and then Harris stepped into the room–but he wasn’t wearing the mostly normal clothes he’d had on before. Now, instead, he was dressed head to toe in rubber, including a thick rubber apron hanging off his front. “There’s my newest test subject–I hope you haven’t been waiting awake too long. I had some other business and subjects to attend to, you see.”
Ken had been wrong–clearly, this guy was absolutely a psycho. He started struggling again, tugging harder at the cuffs as Harris came closer to where he was on the gurney. With one gloved hand, he immobilized the arm with the IV drip in it, and shoved a syringe into the receptacle, and after a few moments, Ken felt a wave of euphoria wash over him, and he fell back against the bed with a sigh.
“There, isn’t that better? That should keep you feeling nice and pleasant for a while.”
“What…what are you doing to me? What was that?” Ken moaned and slurred at him.
“Oh, that was just a light sedative, with some fun mixed in. This, however, is what you should be worried about,” he said, and hooked up a bag to the IV. It was a bright yellow liquid, and Ken looked at it, and then back at Harris. “You see, men have such…unconventional tastes these days. It used to be that a brainwashed boy was enough, but now, they want all of these features and oddities. It takes so long to get the mix right for a client, and I always need test subjects. If it works like it should, you’ll go to the client, if it’s off, well, someone else will purchase you at a discount, I’m sure.”
Harris hooked the tube from the new liquid into Ken’s arm. He tried to fight, but everything felt so…heavy all of a sudden, even his eyes couldn’t really be bothered to move around in their sockets, opting instead to just stare up at the ceiling. “That’s good, just relax–it’ll be painful, but that little cocktail will cut out the worst of it, or at least, it should. Still, what’s a little pain in the end? It will just make you stronger, I assure you.”
With that, Harris stood back and sat down with a tablet, ready to observe and take notes, and all Ken could do was writhe weakly, rolling up, watching that strange yellow liquid slide into his body, his arm burning first, and then the sensation spread throughout. It was changing him–but how?
Alright, Ken is going to become a chimera! But what sort of chimera is up to you–you can choose up to three options below, and the most popular ones will get incorporated into Ken’s new form. Here’s the bonus poll for patrons as well!
As Ken walked down the concourse of the mall, he was struck by how odd this mall seemed, filled with brands and stores that he had never heard of before in his life. He didn’t think that he was particuarly out of touch, but had the entire face of retail changed since the last time he’d been in a mall? How long had it even been–years, he supposed. There were bound to be a few changes, of course, but there were…well, so many dang male mannequins! And all the clothes they had on seemed way too revealing…and he was sure that one of them actually had a plastic cock hanging out. It was enough that when he saw something as apparently normal as a pet shop, he veered inside, just to try and find something normal.
But for Ken, he had always liked animals, and he’d kept all sorts of pets over the years–from lizards to cats to dogs, and even a parrot he, well, birdsat while one of his friends was on a cruise for a month. He had never imagined working in a pet store, of course, but then, he’d never imagined anything aside from working in the factory until he retired–he could do, well, anything he supposed, at this point. Why not try to find something he at least enjoyed somewhat? It couldn’t hurt to look around at the very least, so he stepped inside.
“Howdy!” Came the voice behind the counter, “Welcome to The Pet Stop–looking for anything in particular today?” Ken looked over and saw a hefty fellow behind the counter, wearing a leather apron, working on some inventory–maybe he was the manager?
“Hey, well, actually I’m looking for work–you wouldn’t happen to be hiring, would you?”
The man looked up from his papers, and gave Ken a glance, from head to toe, an odd look in his eye. “Have you been in here before? I don’t recognize you, I don’t think.”
“No, I–well, I didn’t even realize the mall was still here, honestly. Just…well, I haven’t really looked for work in years, and my son says most of it is online these days, but I guess I just prefer the old boot to the sidewalk method.”
“You know, I might have something for a fellow like you–why don’t we go back real quick, and see what the little animals think of you.”
That…seemed far too easy. Harris hadn’t even asked about a resume, or references, or anything like that. There was plenty of time for the formalities he supposed, so when Harris came around the counter and headed into the back of the store, Ken followed him down the aisle…but as he did, he noticed something strange.
These…were not the sorts of things you’d usually find in a pet shop–whips and floggers, mitts and…and tails? He wanted to stop and look at the merchandise a little closer, but Harris was walking too fast, and he didn’t want to miss his shot at a job.
“Alright, here we go!” Harris said, stepping to the side when the reached the back of the shop, and Ken stopped dead in his tracks. There were cages, like in most pet shops…but these were not the sort of pets he was expecting to see. They…they were people. Men, in fact, and all of them were dressed up in leather and rubber fetish gear, muzzles and masks strapped over their faces, and they all were, well, acting like animals, pacing back and forth, one “puppy” jumping up against the glass trying to get his attention, panting and barking with surprising realism through the bars.
“What–what the fuck is this?” Ken asked.
“It’s a pet store–what were you expecting?”
“That’s–this…this is fucking sick!”
Harris shook his head, “Oh, I get it–you’re still too new. Well, don’t worry. It just so happens I do have a job opening here, and you’re going to be perfect for it soon enough.”
Ken tried to run, but Harris was ready for him. He blocked the aisle, and tackled him to the ground–and Ken could feel Harris’ hard cock throbbing, even through the thick apron. After a couple minutes of struggling, Harris got the tranquilizer into Ken, and while he went down, secured him, and dragged him into the back, to get him ready for his new position.
The door opened, and it was exactly the person Marvin didn’t want to see–one of those mall rent-a-cop security fuckers. From the way the fat man in the uniform was panting out of breath, and the sweat marks under the arms of his shirt, it was clear he was the sort of officer who was more used to sitting in the office and watching security footage, than chasing anyone down. If Marvin was quick on his feet, he could probably outrun him–but in the tight space of the bathroom…there was no way he could get around him easily. He was going to have to be clever to get out of this.
“There you are,” the cop wheezed, “looks like I get to have my fun after all. And he said I’d never find you.” The big man leered at him in a way that made Marvin feel…rather uncomfortable, especially in his strange condition.
“Look, I–I don’t know what this thing is. Just help me get it out, alright? I don’t care what you do with it, I just want to get back to normal.”
“Normal, eh? Afraid I don’t know how to get you to normal–but you are going to come with me, and we’re gonna have a little chat, boy.”
The officer made a grab for him, and Marvin ducked out of the way, but couldn’t get past him. The officer took another swing and this time got what he reached for–the ring still in Marvin’s nose. He gave it a tug, and the thing…didn’t come out of his nose, but it grew larger, a second ring segmenting off from it, one that the cop put around his fat finger–and as soon as he did, Marvin felt…strange.
The colors swirling around his skin started to coalesce, becoming pictures and words–most of them having to do with being a mall cop, a pig, with…worshipping bit bellies and fat asses. His vision was going blurry, and his body was heating up–packing on muscle, in fact, and something else was wrong, in his head. It was like his brain was missing a few gears, running slower, making it harder and harder to think, until he collapsed on the ground in a heap–blacked out for a few moments, and came too after a bit, thanks to his bosses boot in his gut.
“Hey, you lazy piece of shit–get the fuck up.”
Marv rolled up, confused, and used the sink to help haul himself upright–but in the mirror…that wasn’t him, was it? The hulking muscle man, his body crammed in a tight mall cop uniform, his arms and neck a riot of tattoos, his face full of metal, a new buzzcut on his head. Hadn’t…he looked different, a moment ago? “S-Sorry Sir, I…I’m not sure what happened there.”
“Whatever–don’t worry about it. Just go get me my doughnuts, and then come to the office–I’ll be waiting.”
Boss left the bathroom, and Marv stared at himself a moment longer…but Boss had told him not to worry, so he didn’t. Instead, he headed out of the bathroom to the food court, got a dozen doughnuts (boss’ regular lunch order) and then took the box up to the security office. Boss was already there, stripped out of his pants, and sitting on his…special chair. A rimseat, in fact…and Marv found himself…drooling.
“Well, come on boy–you know what to do, don’t you?”
“Yes sir!” Marv said, set the doughnuts down, and crawled under the seat, where he could smell his Boss’ fat, sweaty ass, feel how hard his pierced cock was getting from the thought of cleaning it. Boss grunted and farted in the young muscle cop’s face, and grinned–serves a thief right, after all.
Ken was…down on his luck, but then again, there didn’t seem to be much luck to spare anywhere in down, especially not for him, and the other twenty guys who had just been laid off at the factory. Thankfully, he had a bit of severance from his union, but he…well, he needed a job, anything really, but no one was hiring. No one, except the new mall that had been redeveloped over the last few months. Ken looked around, copies of his resume in hand, and swallowed some of his pride. It wasn’t going to be…anything decent, but it was something for the time being, right? He could handle anything for a little while.