You might live in suburbia, but it didn’t always feel like it, from where you lived. You could see your neighbors, sure, but your property backed up onto a nice wooded area and undeveloped wetland which still gave it a nice sense of nature. Unfortunately, soon after you moved in, you heard from your neighbors that part of the natural fauna of periurban space were the homeless. Still, they never seemed to bother anyone, and people in the neighborhood seemed reluctant to go into the wetlands all the same. It wasn’t really considered…safe, for reasons none of them could really describe, but you figured they were just scared for no real reason. After all, even if they were homeless they were people too, and so you would take your short walks through the woods, often with a backpack ready to hand out water or a snack if you should happen across anyone who needed it.

In fact, you never really saw a soul out there, but that didn’t stop you from getting the eeriest sensation that someone was watching your every move while you were within the treeline. You assumed it was just your imagination getting the better of you, the stories your neighbors told about some of the strange folk they’d seen here getting the better of you. But over time, the sensation became…more curious, and it wasn’t too much longer before, as you were walking through the woods, you came upon an older man leaning against a tree in raggedy clothes–a long coat and jumpsuit, but under the jumpsuit he had on some leather straps, and the jumpsuit was unzipped down, revealing no underwear and an erect cock.

You backtracked as quick as you could, but now you were seeing others surrounding you on all sides, all of them filthy, and all of them leering at you lustfully, most stroking their cocks as they approached. You tried to talk to them, but they ambushed you, stole your pack, ripped your clothes off of you, and they all started…grabbing at your flesh, at your cock, tugging at your hair, licking your face, feeling your ass–

You scrambled up and ran for your house as fast as you could, breaking through the treeline with the men pursuing you, running to the sliding glass door and trying to pry it open, but it wouldn’t bugde. You know you’d left it unlocked–hell, you’d left it open aside from the screen, hadn’t you? You look around, but is this even your house? Then–in the glass window you see your reflection, and nearly scream. Who is that? That can’t be you, can it? The reflection looks to be an old man in his late fifties, short with a underdeveloped chest and bulging, taut gut coated with white hair. A huge, bushy beard and matted hair–you miss the rest as someone else comes down to the door, sees you, and screams.

You flee back into the woods, but they’re waiting for you. They pin you down and fully initiate you, seeding you with their cum, your memories fading. You can no longer even remember the house you lived in, you can’t remember anything at all about that life you knew you had, only this new one lying before you, as they dress you in filthy, cast off clothing and drag you deeper into the wetlands.

Green Energy (Early Version) | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

wesleybracken:

All right, so it’s October, and usually that means something Halloween themed. I wanted to have the next chunk of Halloween at Pigtown finished up for this month, but that wasn’t in the cards, so we’ll have to go with Orctober instead!

This is a story I’ve had sitting around for a while now, which I keep wanting to revise and rework fairly substantially, but I just haven’t quite found the time to do it yet–though I plan on getting to work on it soon. It’s going to look pretty substantially different from this version here when all’s said and done. It’s also a long one, to make up for the fact that last month’s bonus piece was a bit on the short side.

A quick summary: a young man discovers that a energy drink mix sent by a friend of his has some rather strange side effects. His friend thinks he’s prepared for everything that’s going to happen, but it turns out the mysterious company selling the powder has plans for them both. Contains orcs, muscle growth, weight gain, musk, watersports, rape, and dumbing.

The story is available for anyone contributing $5 or more per month to my Patreon account! If you aren’t contributing and would like to do so, the link above will help you out. You also get access to a sizable archive of unreleased and unfinished stories in my archive as a nice bonus!

For those of you who might have missed this yesterday, I have a new story up on Patreon for my supporters! If you haven’t thought about supporting me yet, keep in mind that a new $5 pledge will get you access to this story, as well as every previous bonus story I’ve posted to Patreon over the last year, as well as my archive of unreleased and unfinished work!

Deal of a Lifetime (Part 2)

“So wait–you take that part of me,” Carl pointed at the cage, “And I get…something else instead? But what do I get?”

The man laughed, “Ah, well, I’m afraid that’s dealer’s choice. I don’t take money, I’m afraid–I provide this service because I enjoy it. Because I like helping men like yourself live more interesting and exciting lives, but you shouldn’t focus on what you will be if you take the deal–think about what you’ll be if you don’t.” He gave the cage a kick, and the thing in there yelped. “Do you really want to let this thing control your life anymore? Look at where it’s gotten you–fucking nowhere, and you were going nowhere fast. Let’s be fucking honest, Carl–you were never going to go down to that pool. You might get drunk and have an awkward, terrible hookup with some rando, but then it’s back to the wife, back to straight acting, back to being a coward.”

“It wasn’t…that bad.”

“Oh please, you don’t have to defend the thing. We both know you were miserable. You know that anything would be better than that–admit it.”

“Please, ya can’t!” it said, gripping the bars, “We got a whole life tahgether! Ya can’t just throw it all away, don’t that terrify ya?”

Surprisingly, it didn’t terrify him at all, actually. The very idea of just being free thrilled him. He could finally be free of everything that he’d always believed to be holding him back…but that didn’t make him any less leery of trusting the man. “If I don’t like it, can I get my old life back?”

“Sorry, but I don’t offer refunds or exchanges. If you take the deal–that’s what you get. I can promise you, that if you accept it, you’ll love it before too long–you won’t even be able to imagine things being different. This old life of yours will just seem like a distant, terrible dream.”

“But what do you get out of this?” Carl asked, “I mean, why do it?”

The man scowled a bit, “If you don’t want to take me up on the offer, I’ll just let him back out, and be on my way.” A key appeared in his hand and he went to unlock the cage, the other him inside, that terrible bundle of everything he hated, started clawing at the door, desperate to be free again, and the terror that welled up in him at the thought of living with that thing still, especially knowing he had a chance to be rid of it–he hurried over and stopped him from unlocking the padlock. “No! No…I’ll take the deal.”

“Ya fuck! How could ya do this tah me, ya fucker!” the thing in the cage screamed, but the man smiled.

“That’s a good man,” the stranger said, and shook Carl’s hand, “Looks like we have ourselves a deal. Now let me introduce you to your new companion.”

Carl heard something between a grunt and a squeal as some massive thing barrelled into him from behind, pinning him down, and then he was flailing in the covers, awake again, sitting up on the bed, panting, wondering what in the world he’d just dreamt. Had that been real, or just some fucked up fantasy his mind had created? He certainly didn’t feel any different–or look any different…but maybe there was one way he could test it.

“My name is Carl Fields, and holy hell, I sound like a normal fucking person!” he exclaimed. His accent was gone, just like in the dream–could it have actually been real then? But what about the end of it? If the trade really had happened, then what had he gotten in exchange? Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to have done anything to him or changed him thus far–but what he really felt like doing was hitting that pool, and hitting on a few guys. The shame and terror which had kept him glued to his room thus far had evaporated, and he wanted to get out there. He got off the bed, but doubled over, his stomach cramping with a sudden cramp of hunger–and all he could think of was food. Hunger, starvation–he needed to eat before anything else! Still, he couldn’t very well go downstairs naked. The clothes he’d had on earlier–jeans and a grubby Carhartt t-shirt with a leather Harley jacket–were lying there on the floor. He bent down to pick them up, but as soon as he grabbed them, he saw the fabric…shudder and shift in his hands, changing into something else entirely. The jeans softened, becoming a flimsier pinstripe fabric even as they grew–tripling in size, suspenders appearing where his belt had been moments before. His shirt cleaned up, sleeves growing to full length as the front split, becoming a button down with a stiff collar, and his jacket turned into a suit coat matching the pattern of his pants. “What in all goodness is this? I don’t remember wearing anything like this before…and this certainly isn’t my size–they’re all much too large for me…” he said, but his voice had shifted, becoming stiff–almost snobby and a bit nasal. Something was definitely happening to him–but what?

The pain in his stomach struck him again, even more violently, crumpling him to the floor, but it was the pain in his mind which was even worse. There was someone–or something–inside of him. Something new. It had spent the last couple of minutes realizing that it was free, that it was back in a real body, and now it felt like it was storming through him, rearranging the furniture of his body and mind to it’s personal fancy, and all Carl could do was find every scrap of himself he could and hold on tight, hoping and praying he might still recognize himself when this was finished–hoping that he’d still want to be himself when this was finished, hoping that he hadn’t just made the worst deal of his entire life.

Deal of a Lifetime (Part 1)

All the planning, all the lying, all the panic and stress and upset, and he was here, and he was so fucking nervous, all he could do was stand on the balcony looking down at the hotel pool where every bear had converged the moment the convention started. All of them aside from Carl, or at least that’s how it seemed. He got another buzz from his pocket, and checked his phone–another couple of notifications from growlr, another couple of guys down there who wanted to know where he was, if he was down to fuck, if he had that camo hunting gear from his profile photo with him, and if he’d dress up for them. He’d dreamed of this for so long, he’d dreamed of finally taking a chance, slipping away, and being here where he could be…himself, but all he felt was paralyzed. He was only 50 miles from home, people knew he was here (not here, of course, at the convention, but here visiting a “cousin” he hadn’t seen in some years). What if someone saw him? What if someone else from town was here too? He looked up from the pool, and his gut bottomed out, when he saw someone on a balcony opposite his staring at him.

He…wasn’t quite Carl’s type–he liked a guy with a bit more chub and padding than the muscular fucker there looking at him, but the sheer…masculine confidence the guy was exuding made Carl feel both insecure and incredibly turned on. He met his eyes for a few moments, but couldn’t for longer than that, and no longer felt comfortable standing there, just being…ogled. He retreated back into his room, stared at the swimsuit he’d laid out on the bed, thought about it again, and then just sat down on the edge, wondering why he was doing any of this. He was too desperate to be out that he couldn’t handle pretending to be that straight redneck one more day, but he’s too terrified of being found out and losing what little he had to do anything with the opportunity he’d taken. He felt…trapped. Still, he should at least…give it a try…

He yawned, his eyes fluttering a bit. Maybe he should take a nap. It had been a long drive, and he’d feel better after some rest, he was sure. He stripped down naked, finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open, the room was spinning around him, and he fell back onto the bed askew, his entire body feeling impossibly heavy. Dimmy, he thought he heard the sound of his hotel room door opening and closing again, along with the sound of footsteps. He tried to call out, but he was just so sleepy all of a sudden, and the last thing he saw, before his eyes flickered shut, was the face of the man from the other balcony looming over his, a bright twinkle in his steel grey eyes as Carl fell into a deep sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, after what felt like a single blink, he wasn’t in the hotel room anymore. Hell, he wasn’t…anywhere. There was just a dark expanse all around him, with no discernible light source, but he could still…see something there, a few yards away, though it was difficult to make out what it was, exactly. He walked over towards it, and figured out that it was a cage–rather small, large enough for a big dog for a small human–and there was something inside of it–no, someone inside of it. It shuffled around as he approached, revealing itself to be a naked, middle aged man, but when their eyes met–no, how could that be possible.

“Please, jus’ let me out! This was a fuckin’ mistake, jus’ go home–ya can still pretend that this never happened, ya can still be a good husband tah Erin.”

It was himself. He was in the cage, but he was also standing here too. He didn’t quite know how to explain what he was witnessing, trying to process it, trying to figure out some way to reply, when a heavy hand rested down on his shoulder. He looked behind him, and found himself with the man from the balcony across the way. “Hello Carl–I see you’ve already been introduced to yourself.”

“Don’t listen tah him–don’t fuckin’ listen tah him, just fuckin’ git me outta here!”

“I don’t…understand…” Carl said, and noticed that his voice was missing its usual accent–the same one the thing in the cage had. He’d always hated it, thinking it made him sound like an idiot, and suddenly it was just gone?

“I’ll do my best to keep this rather simple, Carl–for both of you,” the stranger walked over to the cage, the version of himself in there trying to shrink away from him, cowering in fear, “Carl–I’m a…merchant of sorts, but I don’t deal in conventional goods. No, I deal in people’s lives, their souls, their desires. See Carl, from the moment I saw you earlier, I knew you’d be perfect for my service. Haven’t you always felt so…trapped by your life? Unable to really let go and be free? Held back by…well…everything that’s in here?” he said, laying a hand on the top of the cage. “My offer is simple–I take this part of you, and in exchange, I give you something to replace it. A new life.”

“You mean…I’ll be someone else?”

“Mostly. I mean, I’m not taking all of you, so everything here?” the man said, pointing to the version of Carl outside the cage, “You’ll still be there, but everything in here will be gone, and you’ll have one of my exquisitely crafted personas instead to help you and guide you to a brand new life.”

Green Energy (Early Version) | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

All right, so it’s October, and usually that means something Halloween themed. I wanted to have the next chunk of Halloween at Pigtown finished up for this month, but that wasn’t in the cards, so we’ll have to go with Orctober instead!

This is a story I’ve had sitting around for a while now, which I keep wanting to revise and rework fairly substantially, but I just haven’t quite found the time to do it yet–though I plan on getting to work on it soon. It’s going to look pretty substantially different from this version here when all’s said and done. It’s also a long one, to make up for the fact that last month’s bonus piece was a bit on the short side.

A quick summary: a young man discovers that a energy drink mix sent by a friend of his has some rather strange side effects. His friend thinks he’s prepared for everything that’s going to happen, but it turns out the mysterious company selling the powder has plans for them both. Contains orcs, muscle growth, weight gain, musk, watersports, rape, and dumbing.

The story is available for anyone contributing $5 or more per month to my Patreon account! If you aren’t contributing and would like to do so, the link above will help you out. You also get access to a sizable archive of unreleased and unfinished stories in my archive as a nice bonus!

Green Energy (Early Version) | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Reflections on Vanity (2 of 2)

Fuck, when my phone notified me and I had all those fucking pictures of my sexy nephew right there–I just about came in my pants. I’d been saving this fucking mirror for him–I’ve had it in my collection for years, waiting for him to grow up into the cutest little cub, and now he was mine–not that he knew that yet. I waited in the apartment complex for him to get home and go inside, and gave him five minutes before slipping in after him for another session–and there he was, jaw dropped, eyes glazed over, just staring at himself in the mirror, and I got to work on his softening mind all over again, molding him day after day, watching him change little by little into exactly who I wanted him to be.

He started to enjoy my company more and more, and soon I’d come over every day. Something about me–he suddenly enjoying my presence, my eyes staring at him, my touch would make him shiver. He liked the attention, and soon, after a month, he was becoming a bit of a narcissist–obsessed with himself, but desperate for other people to stare at him too–especially me. He started working out–I didn’t want him to lose all that softness, but he needed to tone up a bit for what I had in mind. See, he was starting to do badly in his classes. He’d always been a good student, but now he just couldn’t focus. He scraped by the first semester with C’s, but by the spring, he knew what he was. Stupid. Just a pretty cub with an empty head, desperate for his sexy old uncle to stare at him, to watch him dance, to fuck those tight holes of his.

He flunked out and dropped out that spring, but he didn’t care about that anymore. No, he cared about things that really mattered–his sexy body, making sure his stupid head stayed empty, and obeying and pleasing his sexy uncle. Oh? He just sent me another selfie–looking good, right? It’s his first night at the club–he’s so excited. Come on–I promised all my pervy old friends would be there to cheer him on tonight, and then just wait for the after party at his place–we’re all going to give that cub a night he’ll never forget.

Source: myhuskymen.nibblebit.com

Reflections on Vanity (1 of 2)

It seemed like a really strange birthday present, to be honest. I mean, who in the world gives someone a mirror for their birthday? But my uncle has never really been the most normal of people–there’s a reason my parents never really went over to his house. It’s just crammed with junk. He says he’s a collector, but he never could explain what, exactly, he was collecting. When that show hoarders came out, we realized what might be happening and tried to have an intervention, but he fought tooth and nail, refusing to give up anything. Old, chubby, a bit of a miser, and honestly? A bit of a creep too. But he was family, and so I took the mirror with a smile, surprised he’d been willing to part with any of his junk at all.

I was just going to leave it in a closet or something, but he came over the next day and insisted he help me hang it on the wall in my room, and I couldn’t very well say no. I figured I’d just take it down when he left, but reconsidered. It was my first year living alone, and he’d generously offered to help with the rent at the apartment where I was living alone while going to college, so I couldn’t really afford to be ungrateful to the guy, even if that meant he had a habit of dropping in randomly, using the spare key to let himself in.

But one he was gone, and I was in my room alone, the thing was…captivating. Something about how the surface caught the light. I took a selfie with it, mostly for a laugh…but then things got weird. I didn’t remember much of the next few hours, but I do now I sat in my room, looking at myself in the mirror, and masturbated…just…staring at myself. I swear I could hear someone whispering in my ear, but I told myself it was nothing.

But a few days later, scrolling through my albums on my phone, I found pages and pages of nudes I’d taken that day, all of them in that mirror. I couldn’t remember taking any of them, and I’d always been more of a modest guy, so I deleted them and resolved to take that mirror down when I got home from class…but things only got worse from there.

Was that the end for stinkers? I was really hoping for one more chapter where we get to see the fully transformed Eric.

Yeah, that was the end of what I have written. I thought about another chapter like you mention, but it just felt a bit…gratuitous and self-indulgent? There also wasn’t exactly much plot left to run on either, so it would have just been some sloggy description and maybe some sex scenes that didn’t add much to anything, beyond confirming what everyone can tell is going to happen if I end it here.

Honestly, I’m a lot more interested in writing a story about how someone gets to a new body/life, than I am in describing that new body/life once they’ve reached it. Once the transformation or control is complete, the story loses erotic force for me and I become a bit disinterested in drawing anything out.

Now that I’ve said that, I should add that I really liked writing both this one and the last version of Stinkers, so this certainly isn’t the last you’ll see of this in particular. This whole story, for example, would fit excellently into the framework of City of Bears as a starting point for something much longer. So chances are this isn’t the last we’ve seen of Eric, and his story will get embellished and extended somewhere along the line.

Locker Room Spirit (Sketch)

No one thought anything strange was going on at first. Sure, there were several awkward incidents, as the spirit settled into the walls and lockers, the floor, the sauna, the toilets and the mirrors. As it investigated the space and the men inside it. Occasionally, as they were changing a man might…lose focus for a few moments, idly rubbing his cock, only to break from the odd trance a moment later, embarrassed but thinking little of it. But the spirit began to feed in earnest soon, gripping the place tighter as it gained strength, and before too much longer, things became a bit stranger–not that the men inside noticed anything wrong. In their minds, they would walk into the room, change, and leave, just like they always had. They might not remember the details particularly well, but it was just a locker room, after all…right?

However, as soon as they entered, the spirit would grip them, and begin bending them to it’s will, urging them to strip, urging them to become horny, urging them to cum. All around the room, men were on benches, kneeling on the floor, their hands wrapped around their cocks, standing around the drains, shooting their loads down them, and into the spirit’s gullet below, feeding it, allowing it to become stronger, and each time they shot, the spirit would grip them a bit tighter. Men who only occasionally bothered to change at the gym suddenly found themselves needing to go in every time, somehow…excited to be changing. It did seem strange to them, but harmless. But spirits like this one–they want to feed, yes, but more than that. They want to spread and expand, and to do that, well, let me tell you, it isn’t pretty, watching it happen to an unsuspecting person, not after all of these years doing this work.

Hopefully, I can catch them early, around this point. Pull the spirit out by the root, before it can do any real damage, but I can’t catch everything, and sometimes…sometimes these spirits are smart. And this one, it’s the smartest one I’ve seen in awhile, as I’ve been investigating it, watching it, watching the men enter and become its victims.

Spirits like this one, they can get you in two ways. The first is, in many ways, the better fate–at least in my opinion. Or perhaps, it just seems quicker. Certainly it’s the one most spirits prefer. The longer a human spends under the sway of a spirit, the deeper a hold the spirit has on the person. It can start eating away at their soul–their thoughts, dreams and desires–replacing it with the spirit’s instead. So, in time, the men who were in the locker room the most…well, they found their minds overwhelmed with desire for sex and cum and fucking. Men would enter the room to feed the spirit, and were often fucked and abused by these avatars in the process, until, in time, they were fully taken over, their original soul corrupted beyond any sort of recognition. Several bodybuilders–they were held in there for a week by the spirit, fucking each other nonstop as the spirit absorbed them, and then sent on their way, mindless, to seek out other places where the spirit might take root. It wasn’t enjoyable, putting them to rest, but there quite simply wasn’t anything human remaining inside them.

But the other fate–that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Should someone be able to resist the spirit’s mental hold, and be able to recognize what’s happening within its domain, the only way they can be contained is physically. The men inside will secure them, and the spirit will begin to…incorporate their body into it’s own physical form. For two weeks now, a young man has been chained to the wall by the urinals. I…doubt he remembers being human at this point. All of his body has been sucked into the wall, leaving only his head, which has begun to contort, becoming identical to the other urinals beside it with each load of piss the men feed him and the spirit he is now connected with.

The spirit, in the end, is a simple mind, governed more by instinct than any real intellect, though the more men it absorbs, the smarter it becomes. I do, at least, have the advantage of surprise, and thankfully I found it before it had grown any larger, or I would have had a sizable challenge on my hands. Still, only a fool would run into a place like that, magic blazing. No, I have to size this thing up first, and that’s why I’m waiting for it to send out another drone it’s been preparing. I won’t kill this one, but merely capture it, so I can better understand the nature of this thing, and how best to contain it before it gets further out of hand. In fact, looking through my scrying pool, I can see the drone is preparing to leave now! If I hurry, I can intercept it, bring it back here, and proceed with my analysis.

Stinkers – Eric’s Story (Part 7)

***WARNING*** SCAT

It took them both a while to get up to the dorm room itself, because Eric had to keep stopping, pushing Tom into alcoves so he could lick him and sniff him, delighting in his refreshing boyscent, already thinking about all the ways he was going to defile it once they got back to his room. If he had been clearer headed, he would have smelled what had happened in his room before opening the door, but the appearance of Tom had wiped every memory of Paul from his mind–so he opened the door and found his roommate rolling around in the middle of the room with the clothes he’d thrown out before, and the stench was horrific.

“Oh fuck–Paul?”

He didn’t respond to his name–but he did respond to the appearance of Eric’s musk, and Paul rolled over onto all fours and started crawling towards him, eyes void of all thought.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a pig!” Tom exclaimed, and got down to greet Paul, stroking and petting his back, “Who’s a good piggy?”

“No–No, this…I threw that shit out!”

“You’re pretty thin for a pig–hasn’t he been feeding you? Well don’t worry, I have something you can eat, piggy.”

Eric was frozen as he watched Tom stand up and drop his pants to his ankles before squatting down, Paul smelling what was coming and getting his face right into the boy’s crack as he bore down and shit, Paul devouring as much as he could right from the hole–and Eric watched as his scrawny roommate’s body started to throb, and then expand with fat, gaining about fifty pounds by the time Tom stood back up, letting Paul lick the floor clean of what he’d missed. Eric was horrified. He wanted to run screaming from the room, but the fucking smell of that boy’s shit was turning him on like nothing else. Before he could think about it, before he could stop himself, he grabbed the boy and shoved him to the bed, bent him over, got down and started eating out his hole, licking it clean.

“Don’t worry daddy, I saved you some too.”

Eric lapped the filth straight from the hole, thinking about all the times he’d fantasized about this in his life, all those drunk nights he shoved a finger in his hole, sniffing it, too terrified to taste it, but it was better than he could have ever imagined. When the boy was empty, he stood up again, licking his lips, hauled out his cock and shoved it into the boy’s hole, cumming almost immediately, but Eric could sense that was just the prelude to what would be a long rest of the night with this sweet boy.

A nose and mouth pushed it’s way between his ass as he fucked, licking at his own ring–the pig was obviously still hungry, so Eric let his own shit loose, the pig squealing with delight and devouring everything as Eric fucked, some small part of him horrified at his own behavior, at his own actions, trying to reel the last shreds of decency back in, but he could tell, now, that there was no going back from this, and so he plunged in deeper, listening to the boy cry out in pain and excitement at being abused by his daddy, and decided that, tonight, he was just going to enjoy himself first, and worry about what it all meant later.

“Daddy? Daddy! I’m home, and I brought some friends over!” Tom said, the glee in his voice apparent as he charged into his filthy house. Greg was in the living room watching TV, another young man who’d been living with Tom when Greg arrived between his legs, worshipping his cock mindlessly, like a good cumdump should. He pushed the thing’s head away and heaved himself up from the couch as Tom bounded over to him and gave him an eager kiss–the boy was sweet again, his mouth like honey.

Tromping into the room after him came Eric, though he barely even recognized himself, after the night before. He was close to six and a half feet tall, but had packed on a massive amount of weight–Greg had to guess he weighed close to 600 pounds. He squeezed into the largest clothes he’d been able to find, but the rolls of hairy, stinking fat cascaded out around them. He had a wild beard which had grown down to his chest with a streak of white down the center, his face looking quite a bit older than his prior age of twenty-three.

“I see you found him–did you apologize, boy?” Greg asked.

“Yes daddy–I apologized to him all night long.”

“Good boy–now go play in your room for a bit.”

Tom nodded, and scampered up the stairs, as Eric gave a tug and the pig came in behind him, a knotted rope leashed around his neck. Paul had gained a massive amount of weight as well, hulking up, teeth growing out into small tusks, his face and body caked brown. “I…uh…I wasn’t, tryin’ to, but it got a liking a my scent, ‘n…” Eric tried to say, but the words weren’t coming out very well. He’d woken up this morning, surrounded by the filthy scene he’d created with Tom and the pig (he couldn’t quite remember it’s name for some reason) and knew, he had to find Greg. “Can ya…fix ‘em? Can ya fix me? I ain’t…know what’s happenin’ tah me no more. Fuck, why’d I sound so fuckin’ stupid all a sudden?”

“Because you’re becoming the man you’ve always meant to be,” Greg said, “Ya should embrace it! Enjoy it!”

Eric didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know how to stop this anymore. His gut grumbled instead, twisting into hungry knots.

“Look, why don’t I stuff that fat face of yours–you’ll feel better after a good meal. Then, we’ll get back to getting you feeling like your real self. You’re almost there–just a few more days, and you’ll be a true stinker, just like me.”