Did you ghost write the first episode of “Black Mirror”? 😂

Nah, but it does sound like a theme I’d use, right? I’d pay good money for someone to make Trump dress up like a pig, and then have Pence fuck him though.

You must have been obsessed with the Twilight Zone, growing up.

No, actually–I’m a bit too young to have known much about that show, actually. The little that I did know about it, I mostly gleaned from pop-culture references, mostly from kids cartoon shows–especially Johnny Bravo, which ripped off so much of that series.

I did watch the X-files and The Outer Limits, so the “paranormal vignette” genre was hardly an unknown for me, but I wouldn’t say those had as much of an influence on me as some other sources, which were mostly books. The Goosebumps books, Animorphs, and a few other series like that spring to mind, certainly, as well as a lot of Stephen King, Robin Cook, and some Ursula K LeGuin for good measure.

Hey all! I’ll be answering my backlog of asks and comments today, as well as anything else you throw into my box!

I also wanted to remind everyone following my side blog here–@brackenousjunk–that starting next week I won’t be posting my own captions here–instead, all of my original content is going to be migrating back to my main blog, @wesleybracken, which I’d suggest you follow if you aren’t already! You can find more details about these, and other other changes, here. Thanks, as always, for reading!

Looking Ahead: Goals and Changes Heading into 2017

wesleybracken:

Hey everyone! As always, I want to start off by thanking you reading and enjoying all of the strange, crazy stuff I post! It’s hard to believe, but this winter marks ten years since I put up my first story on MC Stories and the NCMC. For quite a few months now, I’ve been trying to figure out how to chat a course, going forward, trying to figure out how to balance providing all of you with as much content as I can, while making sure I am still able to devote time and energy to the sorts of projects I want to write, and that I know all of you want to read. I want to take a moment to lay out, first, some of my frustrations and my goals going forward with my writing, second, some changes that I’ll be making to by posting on tumblr to help make those goals a reality, and third, some changes and updates to my Patreon Goals and Rewards to bring it in line with my focus. This might be a bit long, but stick with me! It’s important things!

One: Frustrations and Goals

While I love the content that I post on tumblr every day, on both of my blogs, it’s been hard to deny that I often feel like the stories I’m telling disappoint me in several ways, and much of this has to do with the fact that tumblr is both 1) oriented towards pictures and other visual content, and 2) encourages a short attention span. While I do enjoy shorter stories and captions, over the last year in particular, I’ve felt myself beginning to chafe a bit at the fact that this platform just isn’t suited towards the longer works I want to publish. The other factor in this frustration is that such a large chunk of my time is devoted to keeping up with my tumblr posts that I often don’t get the chance to give the stories here the level of depth and detail that I want them to have. I decided that I needed to figure out a way to re-balance my workload, so that I could have more time and energy to devote to those longer pieces, like City of Bears, which have been on the back-burner for far too long.

That said, there are other projects that I’m desperate to tackle, which already require time and energy which I don’t have. At the top of the list, is a frustration that I have written so much content, and yet all of it is massively disorganized, spread across various sites and archives. This also isn’t helped by the fact that, on tumblr, most of my longer stories are nearly always chopped up into bits, making them difficult to read and find. I’ve come to the conclusion that the best (well, really only) solution is to create my own website where I can then archive all of my stories and ensure that they are easily searchable and readable. However, that project would require a sizable amount of work, both setting up the site as well as going through my heaps and heaps of badly organized documents to format and edit everything I’ve put out over the years.

So that brings us to my goals for 2017. First, I’d very, very much like to finally have several long pieces I’ve been writing in fits and starts published and available for purchase, and I’d also like to have made headway on establishing a permanent home for all of my content. But in order to do that…well, something has to give.

Two: A New Schedule for Tumblr Content

Starting next week, I’m going to be slightly scaling back the content I post on tumblr. Instead of posting content seven days a week across two blogs, with long stories on my main blog and captions on my side blog, I’m going to begin posting a mix of both kinds of content, five days a week, on my main blog. My side blog, then, is going to become a bit more personal, focusing on commentary, reblogged stories and pictures, and asks. This restructure will bring the content I’m delivering more in line with the goals I outlined on Patreon at the beginning.

There are other reasons for making this change beyond helping me balance my time better between long and short content. I haven’t been happy with posting content in two different places, partly because it’s confusing, but also because it means people might miss something. It also confuses people, when they’re trying to find a particular story or caption, and end up searching for it on the wrong blog. I’ve also found that the posting schedule on each blog has been limiting the sorts of content I could post. the M-T-Th-F scheudle on my main blog has been too disruptive to the flow the stories I post, and moving away from the W-Sat-Sun schedule for captions will also allow me the flexibility to write longer caption and image stories than the one or two parters I usually post. This also means that I can devote my side blog to better engaging with readers and promoting other authors around tumblr and elsewhere.

That said, if this slight drop in content upsets you, I am happy to say that there’s at least something you can do about that, which brings us to the third topic.

Three: Updated Patreon Goals and Reward Tiers

Thank you again to everyone who helps support me over on Patreon, I can’t tell you how amazing it is that I can actually get paid for writing this crazy shit each month. I started my Patreon two years ago, and as I’ve been thinking about my goals over the past year, I’ve been feeling that my goals could use updating. I also felt like I could do more to reward backers, especially those of you contributing at the one dollar level.

First, the goals. I hit the 500 dollar goal last year, which was the level that I felt I needed to begin publishing collections and longer works independently through gumroad, and, as stated above, I definitely want to make 2017 the year that this happens–this goal isn’t changing, and I’m actually well on my way to having a short novel ready for you all in the next few months. The goals beyond that have gotten a bit of a face lift, however.

If all of you readers get me up to the 600 dollar level, then I’ll take some time off from work this spring or summer and devote it to getting a website up and running, where I’ll begin the process of uploading my substantial backlog of work for you all.

At 700 dollars, I’ll go back to posting content seven days a week, as I have been doing for the last few months. So if you want that content back, don’t whine! Put your money where your mouth is!

Lastly, at 800 dollars, I’ll be able to use some of this revenue to commission artists to provide illustrations for selected stories, as well as devote more time away from the day job towards other projects, including things like interactive twine games and novels.

All that said, the reward tiers got a bit of a rework as well, the most notable being at the one dollar level, where I’ve added two new perks for everyone contributing at least that amount. In addition to getting access to my Patreon archive, you’ll now also have early access to commission slots whenever I open them up, and each month, I’ll start crowdsourcing requests from Patreon backers for flash fiction stories on a theme of their choice, and writing three or four of them a month, to post on tumblr. I’ll have more details on this to come early next month, but it should be fun!

The one last change I made to the reward tiers, is that while all patrons giving five dollars or more will still have access to the patreon exclusive story I publish each month, they won’t receive free copies of any longer works I publish independently. For that, you’ll need to upgrade to the ten dollar level, which will, as before, also get you access to all of my current drafts and works in progress.

So, if you haven’t wanted to contribute to my Patreon in the past, I hope you’ll take another look at it. Even one dollar a month helps, if a bunch of you do it, and hopefully these new perks can sweeten the pot a bit.

Alright! That was a lot of info, and I’m sure ya’ll have some questions. I’ll be here to answer them for the rest of the week, either by putting them in my ask box,

messaging me, or

sending me an email if you prefer.

Here’s hoping 2017 will be a good year for writing! It sure as hell won’t be a good year for anything else, but at this point, I’ll take what I can fucking get.

I want to make sure this gets shared over on the other blog as well! If you follow this one, but don’t follow my main blog yet, then I’d suggest you do, since that’s where I’ll be posting all of my stories and captions going into the future. Instead, I’ll be shifting this blogs focus to rebloging stories and captions by other authors, pictures and inspirations, as well as other commentary and asks.

If you have any questions about the above, feel free to ask, and if you haven’t checked out my Patreon, but are interested, now’s a good time to do so!

Stinkers – Coach’s Senior Gifts (Part 5)

Erik wasn’t sure if Paul was trying to push him off, or was merely pushing up against him. Either would have been fine with him–after all, whether his teammate was enjoying what was happening to him or not, it was happening to them both. He would either enjoy it or not–whichever it was, it was likely that Paul had no control over his own feelings, or his own body, or his own destiny, at this point. Erik had long since given up any sort of belief that he might become anything other than what his coach wanted–and indeed, had begun to relish everything Coach Robinson had chosen to do to him.

The hair which had sprouted from the jockstrap was slowly eating away the very mesh of the pouch, and after a few minutes, he felt his cock flop out, and his balls as well. Reaching down with a hand, he felt them, giving the musky shaft a good stroke–it was longer than it had been before, and shaped…slightly different. His balls were fuller as well, and coated in fur. His belly and the front of his legs were becoming covered now, and his previous flat stomach was beginning to round out, as a small, hard gut formed over his abs, but the rest of his muscles were heating up, and expanding. The heat was even penetrating his bones, making them lengthen as well–it was painful, but…worth it. Worth it, if he could become what his coach wanted, even if that meant he couldn’t be as special as Anton–it wasn’t up to him, though this thought did little to curb his disappointment.

Instead, he took that anger out on Paul, beneath him, pinning him to the concrete, grinding their crotches together, snarling and growling at him with his bearish muzzle, licking his lips over foul teeth, leering down at the boar beneath. He’d hoped that Paul would hate this, that this would be torture, or punishment, but after his initial hesitation, he was grinding back, rearing up to meet Erik’s face and mash their snouts together in strange, unfamiliar kisses.

Paul’s own jock was undergoing changes that were quite different from Erik’s. The pouch had dried out and hardened, but rather than become solid and brittle, it had become leather–or perhaps a better word would be hide. It had covered his cock and balls for now, making them disappear, but it was clear that something was happening beneath it. Paul could…feel his cock, working hard to push it’s way back out, and with a painful tear, the hide broke towards the top, and a strange, pink cock pushed it’s way out, like a drill emerging from the earth. Even the head was corkscrew shaped, and covered in a foul smelling slime. The base of the hide began to distend now, as his new balls descended. True to his new form, they were heavy and large, hanging low against his thighs. Done with his crotch, the rest of his skin began to change now as well, becoming the same leathery hide as the jock had become, though some areas turned quite a bit darker than others. What emerged was a piebald pattern–much of his skin was the same light pink as before, but large spots of deep brown had filled in as well. With a grumble in his gut, fat began to pile on his body–far more than Erik, though Paul got a fair share of muscle as well. His tits swelled in particular, which Erik began groping roughly in his hands, other nipples sprouting down the front of him, swelling to the size of thumbs.

Paul slid down, underneath Erik, searching for his new cock amidst the hair coating his body. It was rank and matted, dripping sweat on his face, which his tongue happily lapped up between grunts and squeals. Erik found the boar’s mouth first, driving in, filling his snout and touching the back of his throat. The changes had covered their torsos and most of their legs, and were now progressing down their arms, and up their necks to their new faces. Erik’s ears shifted up to the top of his head, as hair filled in all over his face–Paul’s ears also shifted to the top of his skull, but grew out and flattened, the edges cracked slightly, his eyes shrinking and setting back a bit deeper into his skull. The hair on the top of his head fell out, but long bristle sprouted all along his back and neck, but left his underbelly barren and rough. Erik’s hands gripped Paul’s head, his nails thickening and darkening into long claws. He dug in–enough to hurt and perhaps scratch, but not enough to truly make the boar bleed–and began slamming his cock in deeper, as deep as it could go, Paul hungry for cum, hungry for piss, desperate for anything wet.

The bear man finally rolled the boar over, tugging at the curly tail which had sprouted above Paul’s ass, and reached back to feel his own, stubby and furry one behind him. He ate out the pig’s hole for a bit, tasting the rank sweat and dirt, before sliding his cock into the hilt, Paul letting off a loud squeal–likely loud enough to be heard in the school proper, though at this time, the only people around were the janitors, who knew better than to disturb Coach Robinson’s time with his athletes. Paul groped around underneath his flabby body, looking for his cock–which he managed to grab hold of eventually. It wasn’t easy gripping it–his fingers had fused together into semi-worthless trotters, but the rough hoof against his slimy cock only made his squeal more, his balls pumping out a massive puddle of precum, which his belly slid around on. With a growl, Erik planted his hairy, wider and clawed feet on the tile, gripped the pig’s hips tight in his claws, and kept fucking. Their humanity seemed so distant now–more like a dream, some strange fancy their animal minds might have invented–but this…this is who they were now, and neither of them was sure they’d go back, even if they could.

Looking Ahead: Goals and Changes Heading into 2017

Hey everyone! As always, I want to start off by thanking you reading and enjoying all of the strange, crazy stuff I post! It’s hard to believe, but this winter marks ten years since I put up my first story on MC Stories and the NCMC. For quite a few months now, I’ve been trying to figure out how to chat a course, going forward, trying to figure out how to balance providing all of you with as much content as I can, while making sure I am still able to devote time and energy to the sorts of projects I want to write, and that I know all of you want to read. I want to take a moment to lay out, first, some of my frustrations and my goals going forward with my writing, second, some changes that I’ll be making to by posting on tumblr to help make those goals a reality, and third, some changes and updates to my Patreon Goals and Rewards to bring it in line with my focus. This might be a bit long, but stick with me! It’s important things!

One: Frustrations and Goals

While I love the content that I post on tumblr every day, on both of my blogs, it’s been hard to deny that I often feel like the stories I’m telling disappoint me in several ways, and much of this has to do with the fact that tumblr is both 1) oriented towards pictures and other visual content, and 2) encourages a short attention span. While I do enjoy shorter stories and captions, over the last year in particular, I’ve felt myself beginning to chafe a bit at the fact that this platform just isn’t suited towards the longer works I want to publish. The other factor in this frustration is that such a large chunk of my time is devoted to keeping up with my tumblr posts that I often don’t get the chance to give the stories here the level of depth and detail that I want them to have. I decided that I needed to figure out a way to re-balance my workload, so that I could have more time and energy to devote to those longer pieces, like City of Bears, which have been on the back-burner for far too long.

That said, there are other projects that I’m desperate to tackle, which already require time and energy which I don’t have. At the top of the list, is a frustration that I have written so much content, and yet all of it is massively disorganized, spread across various sites and archives. This also isn’t helped by the fact that, on tumblr, most of my longer stories are nearly always chopped up into bits, making them difficult to read and find. I’ve come to the conclusion that the best (well, really only) solution is to create my own website where I can then archive all of my stories and ensure that they are easily searchable and readable. However, that project would require a sizable amount of work, both setting up the site as well as going through my heaps and heaps of badly organized documents to format and edit everything I’ve put out over the years.

So that brings us to my goals for 2017. First, I’d very, very much like to finally have several long pieces I’ve been writing in fits and starts published and available for purchase, and I’d also like to have made headway on establishing a permanent home for all of my content. But in order to do that…well, something has to give.

Two: A New Schedule for Tumblr Content

Starting next week, I’m going to be slightly scaling back the content I post on tumblr. Instead of posting content seven days a week across two blogs, with long stories on my main blog and captions on my side blog, I’m going to begin posting a mix of both kinds of content, five days a week, on my main blog. My side blog, then, is going to become a bit more personal, focusing on commentary, reblogged stories and pictures, and asks. This restructure will bring the content I’m delivering more in line with the goals I outlined on Patreon at the beginning.

There are other reasons for making this change beyond helping me balance my time better between long and short content. I haven’t been happy with posting content in two different places, partly because it’s confusing, but also because it means people might miss something. It also confuses people, when they’re trying to find a particular story or caption, and end up searching for it on the wrong blog. I’ve also found that the posting schedule on each blog has been limiting the sorts of content I could post. the M-T-Th-F scheudle on my main blog has been too disruptive to the flow the stories I post, and moving away from the W-Sat-Sun schedule for captions will also allow me the flexibility to write longer caption and image stories than the one or two parters I usually post. This also means that I can devote my side blog to better engaging with readers and promoting other authors around tumblr and elsewhere.

That said, if this slight drop in content upsets you, I am happy to say that there’s at least something you can do about that, which brings us to the third topic.

Three: Updated Patreon Goals and Reward Tiers

Thank you again to everyone who helps support me over on Patreon, I can’t tell you how amazing it is that I can actually get paid for writing this crazy shit each month. I started my Patreon two years ago, and as I’ve been thinking about my goals over the past year, I’ve been feeling that my goals could use updating. I also felt like I could do more to reward backers, especially those of you contributing at the one dollar level.

First, the goals. I hit the 500 dollar goal last year, which was the level that I felt I needed to begin publishing collections and longer works independently through gumroad, and, as stated above, I definitely want to make 2017 the year that this happens–this goal isn’t changing, and I’m actually well on my way to having a short novel ready for you all in the next few months. The goals beyond that have gotten a bit of a face lift, however.

If all of you readers get me up to the 600 dollar level, then I’ll take some time off from work this spring or summer and devote it to getting a website up and running, where I’ll begin the process of uploading my substantial backlog of work for you all.

At 700 dollars, I’ll go back to posting content seven days a week, as I have been doing for the last few months. So if you want that content back, don’t whine! Put your money where your mouth is!

Lastly, at 800 dollars, I’ll be able to use some of this revenue to commission artists to provide illustrations for selected stories, as well as devote more time away from the day job towards other projects, including things like interactive twine games and novels.

All that said, the reward tiers got a bit of a rework as well, the most notable being at the one dollar level, where I’ve added two new perks for everyone contributing at least that amount. In addition to getting access to my Patreon archive, you’ll now also have early access to commission slots whenever I open them up, and each month, I’ll start crowdsourcing requests from Patreon backers for flash fiction stories on a theme of their choice, and writing three or four of them a month, to post on tumblr. I’ll have more details on this to come early next month, but it should be fun!

The one last change I made to the reward tiers, is that while all patrons giving five dollars or more will still have access to the patreon exclusive story I publish each month, they won’t receive free copies of any longer works I publish independently. For that, you’ll need to upgrade to the ten dollar level, which will, as before, also get you access to all of my current drafts and works in progress.

So, if you haven’t wanted to contribute to my Patreon in the past, I hope you’ll take another look at it. Even one dollar a month helps, if a bunch of you do it, and hopefully these new perks can sweeten the pot a bit.

Alright! That was a lot of info, and I’m sure ya’ll have some questions. I’ll be here to answer them for the rest of the week, either by putting them in my ask box,

messaging me, or

sending me an email if you prefer.

Here’s hoping 2017 will be a good year for writing! It sure as hell won’t be a good year for anything else, but at this point, I’ll take what I can fucking get.

Hypno Test Subject

“Look…I just thought you might be interested in it, because you seem like someone hypnosis could really help. A bit more confidence, a little more focus. Maybe even help you with weight loss, of you like it…”

Jerry grimaced at that–sure, he was…fat, but it wasn’t something he liked people mentioning. He looked over at Oliver, his roommate. He’d been working on a project for some strange neuroscience class or something, developing a serum which could induce a powerful hypnotic state. He said it had already been tested in some animals, and was getting ready for human trials, but he was excited to see if it would work, and had asked Jerry if he’d be a willing, and secret, subject.

Jerry eventually agreed, mostly because he wasn’t very good at saying no to anyone, something Oliver was well aware of. His roommate was a wimp, really–chubby, nervous, a bit anti-social…but he was also kind of cute, in a hopeless way. Oliver was no looker himself, with buck teeth and his big glasses–it didn’t help that he was gay on top of that. Jerry rolled up his sleeve and let Oliver inject him with the serum, and a minute or two later, he was feeling…good. Almost like he’d started floating. Oliver was talking to him, but he wasn’t really listening…or maybe he was listening so hard he just couldn’t quite hear anything. Jerry realized he was talking back on occasion too…but mostly, everything just felt…nice, and he barely noticed the hours passing him by.

*~*~*

“Now, tell me what you are,” Oliver asked. The session had gone on for a couple of hours at this point, and he was feeling good about where Jerry was going–with who he was becoming.

“I’m a fat, worthless, faggot pigslave. Your pigslave, sir,” Jerry droned back at him. He was naked at this point, on his knees in front of Oliver. All he had on was a loose collar and leather manacles on his wrists and ankles.

“That’s good. Very good pig,” Oliver said, stroking his own cock in excitement. “What do you want, more than anything, pig?”

“My master’s cum and piss…his sweat…anything you’re willing to give a worthless pig like me, sir.” Jerry’s eyes looked up at Oliver–still not seeing much with any clarity, but he smiled anyway at him.

Oliver ruffled his new pig’s hair–he was going to need a shave tonight, after his first fuck. And then, Jerry wouldn’t be leaving the room for the rest of the semester. Pigs, after all, didn’t go to class. Pigs didn’t think. Pigs just obeyed, and they ate, and they got fatter and stupider for their masters. He’d be lonely for a while, but in a week or two, Oliver would put one or two of his jock bullies under as well. Then he’d have a nice piggy harem. Maybe Jerry would even be top hog, feeding those skinny jocks all day while Oliver was at class. He deserved something, for helping him out like this with his project. He stepped forward, and the pig swallowed down his master’s cock for the first time with a snort, and Oliver knew his days as a virgin were over for good.

Stinkers – Coach’s Senior Gifts (Part 4)

After his demonstration, the coach forced Anton into a long sleeve compression shirt–long enough that the spandex and the rubber of his new mitts overlapped slightly, making it difficult to tell where one fabric ended and the other began. Much to Anton’s surprise, even after he’d lost the feeling of his flesh under the shirt, he found that he could still move…but without bones or tendons, he also had a…surprisingly large range of movement. He was like some living doll, and every touch of the coach’s hands on his new “skin” sent waves of pleasure through him. He didn’t want this to be so enjoyable. He was terrified, certainly, but also somehow…excited.

Coach forced him to bend over the desk next, revealing his ass for him. Anton thought coach might want one last fuck before sealing away his asshole underneath the uniform pants, but instead, he took a wide, semi-flexible rubber tube, told Anton to open up his ass, and began sliding the tubing into him. He could feel the rubber wanting to cling to the sides of his ass, as it went in, but Coach kept forcing it deeper–deeper than Anton had ever really taken much of anything before, until there was just an inch or so of tube sticking out from between his ass cheeks. Then, coach stopped, and after a few seconds, the rubber had adhered to the inside of his hole. The inside of the tube was filled with silicone, almost like a fleshlight. The coach’s finger pushed against the rubber sphincter and entered him, making Anton shiver, and an odd…need, overwhelmed him. “There–you might be a dummy, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be useful, right?”

“R-right…” Anton moaned back, without much thought.

“Yeah, I think you like being used, don’t you?”

Anton just moaned again. Coach played with his dummy’s new hole a little longer, and then got the pants and socks he’d already prepared–black spandex, like the shirt, but with pads built into the knees and ass. Socks first, and while Anton’s feet and ankles began to numb up and turn to fluff, Coach forced the pants on, all the way up to his waist. A ragged hole had been left in the front, allowing the jock pouch to peek through the front, and a small hole had been left in the seat of the pants as well. It took a bit of maneuvering, but coach pushed the end of the rubber tube through the hole, and the pants sealed themselves around it–joined with it seamlessly, in fact. Anton was left with an ample butt oddly without much of a crack–just a hole leading deep into Anton’s body, and the fluff it was rapidly becoming.

Now that most of his body had been…converted, he had a better feel for the substance which was now filling his body. It felt more like…foam, than anything else. Pushing in, his body would indent substantially–much more than flesh–but would return to it’s shape rapidly. It reminded him of those memory foam mattresses, or an unused but first-wetted sponge. He tried to stay standing, but the foam feet kept giving way under his weight. Coach put on two cleats next, which helped–giving strength and structure to his ankles and soles, allowing his the ability to walk–slowly, but he…could tell he would become better at it in time.

It was with some fear that Anton realized that, for several minutes now, he hadn’t heard, or felt, his heart beat. He also wasn’t breathing, now that he had no internal organs to pump air or blood through him. He tried to speak, but while his mouth could move, there was no air inside of him which could be forced out to make sound–he was just a human head, miming language uselessly.

“Almost done, dummy. Just a few more pieces. How about we get your jersey and pads on, eh?”

Anton had seen the yellow jersey with black writing in the corner, but it wasn’t until Coach had put it on him that he saw his new number on the front–34, the same number he had out on the field, in fact, but the name on the back was different. Instead of his last name, all it said was “Sponge.” The word filled his head with fear, thinking about what coach had demonstrated earlier, with his crotch, but the foam body…it had begun to ache. It needed to be wet, if it was going to move, after all. If he hardened, then he’d be frozen in place, like a statue. He was…damp at the moment, thanks to the water held in all the flesh he’d been before, but if he didn’t get more, he’d shrivel up.

Sensing his thoughts, Robinson patted him on his padded shoulder, “Don’t worry Sponge, I have lots of guys who will be keeping you well…saturated. My teams always love my dummies, and use them plenty. You’ll be holding onto all of our piss and cum and spit and sweat for a long time–everything might have just wiped off you before, but now, you’re going to be keeping everything.”

He pushed Anton over at the waist–it didn’t feel like bending over, it felt like he was just some doll, being manipulated by an owner. The rubber tube emerging from his new ass was a couple inches wide–an easy target, though Coach missed on purpose, soaking the seat of Anton’s ass in piss, before sending the rest of the stream into the tube, where Anton could feel it reach the end, deep within him, and the piss just started…suffusing him. It was warm, and pleasant…almost like the time coach had made him piss himself out on the field, after a particularly humiliating fumble. “Yeah, feels good, doesn’t it? It’ll take a while, but pretty soon, you’ll be dribbling filth with every step you take, heavy with everyone’s fluids. I bet you’re already starting to ache for it, right? Well, we just have to take care of that head of yours, now, and once that’s done, you’ll be a dummy through and through, Sponge–isn’t that exciting?”

Stinkers – Coach’s Senior Gifts (Part 3)

Out in the locker room, Erik and Paul had both spent the last ten minutes becoming acquainted with their gifts. Even though they were only a few feet away from one another, they had nearly forgotten about the other’s existence, and the locker room entirely. The jocks…the scent imbedded within them (or the scents they were made out of–it was difficult to know, exactly, what this gear was) was incredibly powerful and overwhelming, but not by force–it was the nuance and the detail which had absorbed the attention of the two jocks so intently.

For Erik, the scent wasn’t only musk, though it was plenty heady. There was also loam, and tinges of evergreen. The chill of a cave, or perhaps a den. Smelling it made him feel both…sleepy, and yet also incredibly powerful, like a boulder at the top of a spruce covered mountain, waiting for a single tap, to send it careening down the slope, flattening anything in it’s path. There was the sweetness of fresh berries, and the pungent rot of raw fish in the sun, the taste of iron and blood in the back of his throat. He was gnashing at the jock now, filling it with spit, and then sucking it down his throat, tasting everything more intensely by the moment.

Paul had begun on the bench, but at some point, had fallen off and onto the concrete floor, where he was rolling about, the jock almost draped over his face, as he snorted at it, grunting, grinding his crotch against the rough concrete. His jock smelled of food–fat and sugar and grains, fermented slightly and beginning to foam. There was mud and dust as well; the jock was incredibly dry, and seemed to be sucking the moisture from him, almost pulling at his face, in some strange way he couldn’t quite explain, even to himself. He felt lazy. He felt like he never wanted to stand upright again, if he could help it. He felt hungry, and thirsty, and as horny as could be. But in his rutting on the ground, the jock came loose from around his head, and without it, he felt a bit of clarity and focus return to him, letting him sit up and stare around him, blinking.

It was a familiar confusion. Every meeting of his with the coach left him in a similar state–exhausted, confused, mortified at what he’d just done, and certain that–if he could–he’d just climb into bed and sleep for days, and days, and days…but he should keep…smelling it, right? Coach would want him to keep smelling it. He grabbed the jock in a hand, but kept it from his face–and took a moment to look over at Erik, where he was huffing his own jock on the bench.

Where Paul was an offensive lineman–wide and thick and designed to be a wall–Erik was a running back–all muscle, lean, and ready to charge into, and run over, anything or anyone in his path. His teammate had almost the entire jock stuffed in his mouth, where he was almost…chewing on it, rolling it over in his mouth, but this gave Paul a clear view of the fact that Erik’s mouth…it wasn’t quite human any longer. The more he gnashed at the wad in his mouth, the more his mouth and nose seemed to extend, pushing out into a thick, short snout. His beard was filling in thick, turning a dark brown, while his nose flattened and widened, turning black. The changes were spreading down his throat and over the rest of his face–especially the thick pelt of brown hair, and Paul–with his free hand–gingerly touched his own face, recalling the strange sensation of pulling he’d felt earlier.

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t human. He too, had a snout–perhaps slightly longer than Erik’s now was, but not nearly as hairy. His nose was flat, dry, and he could feel wrinkles along the side, with two open nostrils, making him snort slightly with each breath…and he had tusks jutting out from his lower jaw, out of his mouth by an inch or so on each side. He looked down at the jock in his hand, feeling it, wondering what in the world coach Robinson was doing to them both. Wondering what they were becoming.

Erik gagged, and with a hack, threw up the jock he’d nearly swallowed into his hand. It was soaked with spit, and Erik’s face looked more like a grizzly bear than human. He looked over at Paul, where he was sitting on the floor–trying to understand why Paul had put on a pig mask of some sort…only to realize that it wasn’t a mask at all.

“We…we have to stop,” Paul said, “I don’t want to do this anymore, I never wanted to do this.”

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a stupid pig,” Erik said, standing up, unwringing the jock, and pulling it on, “I can’t fucking believe I wasn’t the only one. I can’t believe–fucking Anton. But fuck, I feel fucking good, and I’m going to feel better, soon enough.”

“Erik, we have to get help, we have to tell someone.”

Erik just looked at him, and laughed a bit. “If you’re so scared, then why’s the jock around that bulge of yours?”

Paul looked at Erik, and then looked down. Without even realizing it, he’d pulled the jock on, where the pouch had settled around his crotch. It felt…warm. Comfortable. He was horny, but also…kind of sleepy. Lethargic. He tried to get up, using the bench beside him, but couldn’t quite manage to get his feet under him. He was just so…heavy, all of a sudden. He could see Erik’s jock was beginning to sprout hair, like his saliva had been enough to make it germinate. His own pouch seemed to be drying out, darkening, becoming almost skin colored, though slightly darker than Paul’s own flesh. Erik got down on his hands and knees, on top of Paul, and pushed his muzzle to Paul’s snout, each smelling the other’s breath, the strange animal musk they’d begun to produce, and the world began to fade away again for them both.

Musky Poppers

“Yeah, don’t bother with any of that pesky thinkin’ boy, just take another hit. I know how much you like the smell of this one. Here, let me just hole that nose for ya….yeah, real good snort, piggy boy, fuck! Now get back on that cock.”

“Stupid fuck–should be careful who’s drugs you borrow, boy. These poppers a mine are real fuckin’ powerful. In fact, you might recognize the stink of ‘em at this point, with that nose of yours pressed in my sweaty bush. Yeah–it’s me. My fuckin’ stink, all intense and shit. So fuckin’ intense, it short circuits stupid little boys like you, ‘n ya start doin’ everything I say.”

“I mean, I ain’t any real looker–at least, not if you ain’t lookin’ fer a roughneck! My musk’s always been real strong too, most guys hate it, but once they get a nice long whiff of it, well, they tend to stick around. They just can’t help it.”

“That brain of yours will turn back on in a few more hours, once I’ve got ya good ‘n broken in. Course, ya ain’t never gonna be smart like ya were! Nah, that head a yers is takin’ a real beatin’ right now, I can promise ya that. Ya also ain’t gonna be able tah go without smellin’ mah stinkin’ body fer more ‘n an hour or so–ya’ll probably try tah leave, but ya’ll come crawlin’ back, like they all do eventually. Sure, I’ll git bored a ya eventually, but you…maybe not for a while. Yer pretty fuckin’ cute, I gotta say.”

“Yeah, you…I’m gonna like keepin’ you real close, boy. Maybe get you a job with me, in the trash truck–all day, you’ll be smellin’ my pits, suckin’ my cock–have you smellin’ real filthy soon enough. Git tah know yer musk as well as I know mine, put some more tattoos on ya, put some more fat on that frame, grow out that beard.”

“Still, daddy gets tired a every boy eventually. Few years down the road, I’ll sell ya off tah some other stinky son of a bitch. He ain’t never gonna be enough fer ya, but ya’ll live. Course, if yer real good, I’ll help ya make some poppers a yer own, ‘n ya can make yerself a boy–but we’ll have tah see, won’t we? Yeah, here it comes boy–first taste a daddy’s cum. First taste of many, trust me.”