Russian Agent (2 of 2)

What Andy didn’t know, was that the program he’d entered had, in fact, been designed by the Americans, who had mastered the technology first, and then embedded American spies to sabotage the Russian intelligence network. And so, as the days wore on, Andy tried to muster up his energy to clean up his slovenly apartment, but never seemed to find the energy for much beyond watching American TV (which, he discovered, was actually quite good) and surfing the internet (something he’d never been able to do back in Russia.) The memories of his old self started to sink deeper, and he didn’t even realize he was losing them–he also didn’t realize that this new body of his was always, constantly, hungry.

Eating was second nature to his new persona. He did it mindlessly–at his desk at work, watching TV, snacking as he walked and rode the bus around town. Soon, he was forced to buy new clothes…and admit something else to himself. Something horrible had happened to him, in this procedure–he’d become gay.

For quite a long time, he’d tried to jack off to pictures of women, but nothing had worked well for him. Then, mostly by accident, he’d stumbled across a video of a massive man fucking a woman–and he’d blown his load in seconds. He sought out more videos of massive men, unable to tear his eyes away, unable to imagine himself being that…huge. He tried to resist–he could sense something was wrong. He tried to call in for assistance, but no help came for him. It was over a four day weekend, full of binging, that he asked a feeder he’d been chatting with online to come feed him–and after that, there was no going back.

It’s been five years now, and Andrei is dead. Andy, however, is celebrating his five hundred pound mark with his two feeder-partners. They’re going to stuff him full of an entire, three tierd birthday cake, and then all his friends–bears, cubs and chubs from all over town, and even a few from further away–are going to come over and seed Andy’s hole all night long. Meanwhile Russia has lost contact with twenty of their top agents–they’re sending over another five in a month, to try and track down what happened to their comrades. Still, it’s not likely they’ll be able to resist the allure of American Life either.

Russian Undercover (1 of 2)

He was ready. In peak physical condition. This would be the most challenging mission of his entire life, but for Russia, he would do anything. Unknown to those stupid Americans, the Cold War had never really ended, and under Putin, more and more resources had been funneled to secret programs and missions designed to undermine America’s position both at home and abroad. Now, Andrei would be undergoing a brand new program of deep cover. With the help of a strange new drug, which could alter the physical nature of an individual, and mental programs designed to help him assimilate seamlessly with American culture, he would be the first of many Russian spies planted right in America’s communities, ready to strike at first notice.

Today was the day. He had few friends and family to say goodbye to, which was part of the reason he’d been chosen for this mission. Still, he looked forward to fucking a string of American bimbos once he got settled into his new life–after all, women had never really been able to resist a physique like his. The doctors told him to strip, attached a series of contraptions to him, along with a thick helmet, but before anything could happen, he passed out in darkness.

He awoke on a double bed, in some room he’d never seen before. The doctors had told him that the next time he woke, he would be in America, his new memories fitting seamlessly on top of his Russian past. Indeed, hi name, now, was Andy, he lived in Cleveland, Ohio, where he worked at a call center a few streets away from his apartment. He was amazed–he could still recall his old self, but the new memories and thoughts appeared even faster. He tested a few sentences, and found himself speaking in flawless American English, with a slight midwestern accent, of course. But then he looked down at his body…and was overcome with shock.

Sure, Americans were well known for their obesity, but Andy had never imagined he might actually be made fat in this process. He looked at his new body in the mirror, disgusted at the hair covering his big gut, and the stubble coating his face. The apartment was a bit of a mess as well–he’d have to fix this. He wouldn’t make much at his new job, but he’d be able to afford a gym membership at least. Still, he checked the time, and realized he needed to leave in fifteen minutes to make it to his job on time for his first day. Cleaning up could wait–he threw on some clothes scarfed down some food, and headed out into the first day of his American life.

Source: justbulls

Student Blackmail (Sketch)

“Ah, Mr. Troman–can’t say I was expecting you to show up for my office hours this semester,” Professor Porter said, “I’m afraid it’s a bit too late to do much good, really, as far as your grade will be concerned.”

The older man only half suppressed the grin on his face as the young football player sat down in the chair in his office. They always came, eventually, but Porter was well known for his unrelenting distaste for athleticism. College, in his opinion, was for study–there was quite simply no reason for a school to possess a sports team. The coaches had learned, over the years, that not even pressure from the dean could get Porter to give their athletes a passing grade, and so they urged them to avoid his classes. Trent Troman, fraternity bro and football player, hadn’t followed his coach’s advice, but he didn’t seem to be sweating it much. “Look, Mr. Porter,” he said, “I’m just going to give it to you straight. I’m going to pass this class, and you’re going to give me at least a B, or I can tell you, you aren’t going to enjoy what happens next.”

Porter chuckled–he had to admit, the young man was…confident. “First of all, I’d suggest you refrain from threatening people, going forward, either other teachers or your future managers in whatever retail business you find yourself when you leave here. Second, you have repeatedly skipped my class, turned in your assignments late or not at all, and what I did receive was of such a poor quality that it’s almost like you wanted the F I plan on giving you after your final in a few days. I know you haven’t been here very long, but there’s nothing this school can do to me, to keep me from my decision. Now, I have other students who could actually use my counsel, so feel free to show yourself o–”

The last syllable didn’t actually manage to make it’s way out of his mouth, because something else appeared in it. He felt it with his tongue–it was some strange rubber ball, and he could feel straps running around his face and over the top of his head. He reached up and felt them, crying for help as best he could through the gag, Trent just watching him like nothing strange had happened at all. His hands followed the straps back, to where they latched, and he found a small padlock there–with a light jingle, Trent displayed a key in his hand, and then pocketed it. Porter just glared at him for a moment, unable to believe what had happened, and then went to get up from his chair…but in an instant, something…pushed him back into the chair, and when he went to get up again, he found his wrists and ankles had been bound to the arm rests and feet of the chair with leather straps. Calmly, Trent stood up, shut the office door, and locked it.

“Now professor, I think…you need some time to think this over again,” Trent said, as he fished through Porter’s pockets, found his keys and phone, and stepped back. “I’ll be back around…say midnight, and see if you’re a bit more…comfortable with my offer then.”

Porter protested through the gag in his mouth, but Trent turned out the lights and left the office, locking it behind him, abandoning the professor in the small room. It was nearly five, and thankfully he didn’t have a class he’d be missing–or at least then, someone would have found him, tied up in his own office! For a while, he kept trying to make enough noise to attract someone’s attention, but as the evening wore on, the building emptied out, leaving him alone, without even a janitor to find him. All he could do, in the dark, was stare at the clock, and watch the minutes tick by until it finally reached midnight.

However, like usual, Trent was late, arriving a quarter after. He unlocked the door, turned on the light, and took his seat again. “Now, since you’re being stubborn, I’ll revise my offer. Give me an A, and I’ll let you go, and we can forget this ever happened.”

Porter didn’t know how the young athlete had managed to do this, but even after all of those hours stuck in his chair, his fear still hadn’t surpassed his principles. But he did want the gag removed, that much he did know. So he decided the best technique would be to lie. He gave a nod, and as fast as it had appeared, the gag was gone, and he could breathe and speak again. “Fine–whatever you want, just…get me out of this shit.”

Trent chuckled, and the rest of the bonds were removed, allowing him to stand up, feeling blood rush to his limbs, which had fallen asleep in that position. But he could feel…something else, which didn’t feel quite right at all. He hefted up his gut and felt his crotch, where he discovered…something was on his cock. “I call that a little insurance policy. Give me my A, and then that comes off. Now, I’m late for a party, so I’d best be on my way. See you in class, professor.”

Porter waited until Trent was out of the office, before dropping his slacks and looking at what was around his cock–a solid steel chastity device. He fiddled with it, trying to figure out how to get it to work, but the thing seemed…completely solid, and he had no clue how to even begin extracting himself without simply pulling his cock off. That young bastard had this well planned, apparently–still, one thing Trent and his strange powers couldn’t account for was plain old stubbornness, as he discovered a few weeks later, when he received his grade report, with a bright red F under Porter’s name, among the rest of his A’s. That was new–and Trent nearly hurled his laptop across the room in rage. Still, he would have the last laugh, he’d make sure of that, oh, he would be laughing for a long time after this.

Redneck Haunt (Part 3)

Jay didn’t last much longer at the smoke shop–a few weeks later, his manager caught him sleeping on the job for the last time, read him up and down the wall, and kicked his ass out. Jay tried to muster the energy to care, but he was too drained and exhausted to put up much of a fight any longer, and so he went home. He didn’t want to go there, and the thought of not having a job to go to for all night scared him in a way he couldn’t quite understand, but once he was inside, it was too hard to think about anything at all. It was about one in the morning, and he could hear something happening in Kerry’s room. He opened the door a crack, and saw his friend, on his knees, thrusting his hips into thin air. He was completely asleep, or at least his eyes were shut, and his mouth slack, his body seeming to move more like a puppet, than by any internal force or desire. Still, he was too tired to think much of it, and so he climbed into bed, and fell asleep almost immediately–the boy could sense him, but focused on his daddy for the rest of the night, only joining Jay once Kerry had woken for real, late, and hurried to get ready for work.

After that…Jay didn’t wake up much any more, and the boy drained him even further, now that he no longer had to worry about him having to leave the house for any reason, feeling the young man’s strength and life flowing into him with every load of cum. Kerry was too focused on what was happening to himself to focus much on Jay–his mind was a riot of memories, old and new, real and created by his boy, that he wasn’t even quite sure who he was anymore. What he did know, was that he loved his boy. He shouldn’t love him, but…but he did, and the feeling was so strong it was impossible for him to deny. He also knew that his boy was going stronger. He would possess Jay regularly, and each time, he was shocked to see what had happened to his friend’s form. He looked closer to sixty now, his hair receded back past the crown of his head, now just a dingy grey. His muscles had all collapsed, and his gut was heavy. He stank, and not like healthy musk–he stank of death, his teeth rotting out of his head, and yet…Kerry desired him anyway. Party, because his boy was inside him, but also…also because it was Jay. Because he’d always wanted Jay, and that desire persisted, somehow, even as his body seemed to age and decay right before his eyes.

One day, when he was feeling particularly guilty, watching his boy suck his cock with Jay’s throat, he pulled together all of the strength he could muster, and pushed him away. “No boy, no–no, you have to stop this, you can’t…he’s going to die, if you keep doing this to him. You have to stop, please, for me–for daddy.”

Jay’s sunken eyes looked at him, and then his body stood, and they looked down at his body, “I could kill him, that’s true. I was planning on killing him–or rather, I assumed I’d have to. But I’m almost strong enough daddy, I just need a little bit more.”

“I…I don’t even recognize him anymore. How did you do this to him?”

The boy smiled a toothless, unsettling grin, and then went back to sucking his daddy’s cock, pushing back, making sure Kerry wouldn’t fight back or protest, not until after he’d gotten another load from him. But Kerry kept pushing, thinking about that smile that had turned his stomach in a knot, looking down at himself through the cigar smoke, really looking, down at his hairy, sweaty gut, smelling himself, lifting up a hefty arm and snorting at his stench. It made his cock jump, his heavy balls pumping out a bit of precum which his boy drank down eagerly into Jay’s gut. This wasn’t him, was it? Whose clothes was he even wearing?

He had on a pair of coveralls and filthy workboots, neither of which he could remember buying in his life, neither of which should have fit him. He shouldn’t be this fat, he shouldn’t reek, he definitely shouldn’t be smoking, or drinking another warm beer from the 24 pack he’d started bringing home on an almost daily basis. What was he becoming? Who was he becoming? Who was he forgetting in the process? He came, and it made him feel dirty–he finished his cigar, and then his boy told him to get to bed.

The dreams became stronger. He lost sense of where the dreams ended, and real life began. His boy was always there. Jay was there too…or…or was it just his pig? He still cared about him, but the love he’d felt started to curdle into disgust and contempt, his desire for company into a deep pleasure in control. He enjoyed abusing the pig’s toothless mouth, slamming his massive cock deep in it’s filthy hole, his son cheerleading from the sideline, the two of them sharing smoky kisses while Jay drooled on the floor, his own cock and balls barely a nipple, completely inert.

One night, as winter was thawing slightly into an early spring, Kerry came home from a long day at work, hungry for a beer and his boy’s holes, maybe a rough fuck for his pig too, and his boy was there, shaking with excitement…and he touched him. It was electric, it wasn’t just…force. It was flesh. His boy was there–really there, in front of him. “I’m here daddy, I’m back.”

He knew, in his gut, he should be happy, but all he found welling up was absolute terror. His son had anticipated this, and forced his daddy to the floor with his mind, tearing away his filthy overalls and running his hands over his filthy ass.

“Now I can finally give you a piece of me, daddy, after I’ve taken so much from you. I seeded Piggy earlier, and he’s never looked better, don’t you think?”

He looked over, and saw Piggy curled up in his bed, fatter than before, looking healthier as well, like a kind of life had returned to him, but his eyes were so empty, empty of everything that had been Jay, just…just a slave, a pig, a thing. “Don’t…not like him, please…”

“Oh daddy, I’d never make you pig–not unless you made me very, very angry. No, but we can get rid of that young man now, forever. You won’t be troubled by him anymore, you’ll just be my happy, nasty daddy, and we can be happy together again, like before. Isn’t that what you want?” he ran his cock up and down Kerry’s crack, making his shiver, his cock leaking against his own desires, and after a quick fuck, Kerry was gone. The boy’s daddy let off a great big belch, feeling his boy’s cum leak from his hole, gave him a long, sloppy kiss, happy to be home at last.

Redneck Haunt (Part 2)

Jay woke that evening, after sleeping through his alarm, feeling like he hadn’t slept at all. He could remember that he’d been dreaming…something, but couldn’t remember any details, beyond the fact that it had been sexy. He was still pretty horny actually, but try as he might, he couldn’t manage to jack off, no matter which hot chick he was thinking of, like his dick was already spent. Frustrated, he threw on a fairly clean uniform for the smoke shop and went out, finding Kerry watching TV, legs spread wide…and was his cock hard? Jay tried to talk to him, but he seemed pretty out of it–they’d planned on throwing that basement crap out today, but with Kerry’s exhaustion and the fact that Jay had overslept, they didn’t have time. In fact, over the next few months, exhaustion became a norm for them both, and it began to show around the house, neither of them cleaning up after themselves much like they had. Kerry hoped that his boy would just leave him alone–but from the moment he stepped in his house, he was by his side, talking to him, sucking him off, kissing him, licking him from head to toe, and Jay never noticed a thing. He tired to avoid coming home, but he felt some strange compulsion to return every night, and his boy was always there, and Jay too–though Jay was looking a bit…haggard lately.

Unbeknownst to him, every morning, while Kerry was working and he was sleeping, the strange boy was in his room, sucking his cock and draining him dry. At this point, he was so exhausted he’d been caught falling asleep on the job multiple times, and was given one more chance before his boss told him he’d be fired–but the sleep at work was the only time he actually felt like he’d slept at all. He had deep circles under his eyes, but there were other strange changes going on. Jay had always been in good shape, fairly muscular with barely any fat at all on his frame, but ever since he’d stopped sleeping…it was like his muscles had been sagging and draining away, bit by bit. He had the beginnings of a gut, too. Other little things, as well–his hairline had started receding, and he’d lost interest in shaving, letting his stubble fill in as a scraggly beard. He was perpetually horny, but hadn’t jacked off in months. At first he simply hadn’t been able to cum, but now he couldn’t even get hard, and both his cock and balls seemed…smaller. He looked like he’d aged into his late thirties in a matter of months, and as scared as he was by the sudden change, he also felt almost no interest in doing anything about it.

Until one day in late fall, when things changed for the worse. Kerry arrived home, as usual, bracing himself for the boy again, terrified of his own mind, which seemed…muddled lately, like he couldn’t trust his own thoughts and memories, and he kept…confusing his dreams with his real life. He opened the front door, and nearly let out a sob of relief when he saw that the boy wasn’t there to greet him. Was he gone? Had he left? Was he better? The relief was short lived, when Jay came down the hallway, naked, cock hard as a rock, a sly grin on his bearded face, and he said, “Hey daddy, look what I can do now.”

It was him. He didn’t know how he knew…but he could sense his boy there, in Jay’s body. He tried to run, but the door slammed shut behind him, and refused to budge. “What–what did you do to him? Get out of there, boy!” Kerry said, his voice shaking, and his boy just laughed.

“Oh but Daddy, wouldn’t it be nice to fuck a real hole this afternoon?” his boy said, walking closer, “Besides, I know the real reason why you wanted him to move in here–and you should really fuck him now, because there won’t be very much left when I’m done with him.”

“No–No, this is. Get out of him, right now boy. I’m…I’m your…father, and I want to know what you’re doing to him.”Something that felt like a massive gust of wind swung into Kerry, sending him off balance. He tipped back and landed on his back–he tried to get back up, but he couldn’t lift his arms or legs. Jay’s body walked over, unzipped Kerry’s jeans, and tugged down his pants and underwear, letting his hard cock out, where it jutted straight up. “Oh, it was a nice try, but we’re still just playing our little roles. Maybe in a while, I’ll let you boss me around for a little bit…” He squatted down over Kerry’s cock, and slid down onto it, with a shudder and gasp, “Oh…oh fuck, daddy! I forgot…I haven’t felt you inside me in…in so long…”

Kerry was powerless, as the boy forced Jay to fuck himself on Kerry’s cock. It was true, what he’d said–he was gay, but in the closet, and he’d always wanted Jay. He’d never dared tell him that, given what a raging homophobe he was, but he’d always held out hope that one night, he might get him too drunk, and sneak a taste. But not this, not like this. Fuck, it did feel good though. He’d fucked a few truckers in his life, and that was about it–but this–fuck, he could, he could get used to this. With a moan, Jay groaned, and shot his load into his hand, before slurping it all up. Kerry came a minute later, deep inside Jay’s hole, and when the afterglow had faded a bit, they boy lifted Jay’s body off the cock, stumbling a bit. “Fuck, took…a bit more energy than I expected. Better get him to bed again–wouldn’t want him to catch you with your pants down daddy…right?”

Kerry remained on the floor for a while, crying a bit, wondering what, exactly was going on. He’d managed to get his pants back up by the time Jay–the real Jay–had gotten up, yawning, and headed to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. The boy followed after him, got down, and kissed his daddy on the floor. “Don’t worry daddy, I’ll be with you soon, and then you can fuck my hole for real.”

Redneck Haunt (Part 1)

“I still can’t believe ya actually bought a house though! Fuck, I mean, I know that shouldn’t seem so damn outta reach, but I can’t even imagine,” Jay said, looking around the place, Kerry beaming a bit in the kitchen. It was a simple ranch house, a bit rundown, but plenty livable, “Gotta admit, I’m pretty fuckin’ jealous, since I’m still crashing with my damn dad.”

“Well actually, I wanted to talk to ya about that,” Kerry said, “This place has a second bedroom–you want it? I wouldn’t mind a little help with the bills, but mostly I’d just like the company, and ya can help me fix the place up!”

“Fuck, never thought the first person to ask me to move in with them was gonna be a guy,” Jay said, laughing as Kerry rolled his eyes at him.

“If ya don’t wanna, you can keep sleeping on your dad’s couch, I just thought–”

“No, Kerry, I mean…are you sure? I’d love to get the fuck out of my dad’s place, you know that.”

“Sure I’m sure!” Kerry said, grinning, “We can move you in next week–how’s that sound?”

Kerry and Jay had been friends since they were little tykes, running around the small, rural town they called home. The economy was struggling, but chugging along well enough. Kerry had always been the smarter and more diligent of them both–he ended up getting a technical degree and fixed farm equipment around the entire county, which was how he was able to afford a first home at the age of twenty five. Jay had never been the school type, preferring to run around chasing girls. He hadn’t knocked anyone up, thankfully, but he’d dropped out of high school, and the best he could find was the night shift at one of the smoke shops on the nearby indian reservation along the highway. Still, they’d been fast friends for ages, and neither figured living together would be much of an issue, especially with their opposite schedules, and sure enough, for a few months, everything went fine. Jay would work all night, and come home as Kerry was heading out the door for work. He’d sleep the morning, and wake up about the time Kerry came home. In the afternoons, they’d scour thrift shops around the area to furnish the place and make it a bit more livable, or they’d work on some chores around the place, putting a fresh coat of paint on the walls, but when they went to clean out the attic, cellar, that’s when things started going a bit…odd.

The first time Kerry had gone down there, he’d found a bunch of boxes of junk down there along the wall, which he assumed was from the previous owner. He’d called the real estate agent, but hadn’t received much of an answer. They’d decided to just go through it and get rid of it themselves one day, and see if there was anything in there which might be worth salvaging, but the boxes mostly contained a bunch of filthy work gear in sizes way too large for either of them, some kid’s toys, a few assorted knick knacks haphazardly stored away, and a few pieces of furniture in decent condition but filthy. Jay suggested they just haul the whole lot of it off to the dump, but Kerry said he was too tired to do it that day, and they could do it later. True to his word, he headed right off to bed as soon as they got upstairs, and he didn’t get back up before Jay had to head off for his shift at work.

When he got back early the next morning, Kerry was at the table looming over his cup of coffee, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink. “Fuck man, you look like shit.”

“Yeah, I fucking feel like shit,” Kerry said, taking a sip of his coffee, “Didn’t sleep very well.”

“Bad dreams or something?”

“Yeah…s–something…” Kerry said, but didn’t elaborate. Jay himself had had a long night, and so he headed to bed himself, unaware that the two of them weren’t alone in the room, that right there beside Kerry, was a young man, his hand on Kerry’s shoulder, which Kerry was trying to ignore as best he could.

“He’s living in my room, daddy?” the young man whispered in Kerry’s ear, “I’m not sure how I feel about that…Still, since I’m sleeping with you, I don’t think it’ll be a problem for now.” He looked to be in his late teens or early twenties, shorter and stocky, with a solid mix of fat and muscle, and a goatee around his mouth which would have looked good, had he had a few more years of life to grow into it.

Kerry ignored him as best he could, unable to understand how the strange young man who’d appeared in his dreams the night before had somehow been in bed with him the next morning, stroking Kerry’s cock, and then he’d sucked him off He knew, that the young man wasn’t quite real–or at least, he wasn’t real in the same way as he and Jay were, because when he’d tried to shove him off, his hands had passed right through him…but when he’d rested his hand on the back of his head a while later, as he was moaning, he’d been able to feel the young man’s greasy hair under his fingers. He couldn’t tell Jay about this–this didn’t make any sense at all, and his friend would just think he’d gone insane. Hell, he probably had gone insane, right? Isn’t this schizophrenia or something? He needed to get help, he needed–

The young man was still naked, aside from the pair of ratty boxers he’d appeared with, and he leaned in closer, kissing Kerry’s neck, one hand finding his hard cock and stroking it gently, the young man helpless to stop him, and he moaned again, his worry’s lost in pleasure. “It’s so good to be back, daddy–I’ve missed you so much. Don’t worry, now that your boy is back with you, you’ll be happy again in no time.”

“Please–I have to go to work…Don’t do this again.”

“Nonsense Daddy, we have time for another quickie, don’t we?”

Kerry came as quickly as he could, his cock shooting his cum right into his underwear, and then the young man returned control to him, letting Kerry scurry out of the house, and off to his job, trying to shake his dreams and waking nightmare as he got in his truck and drove off. His boy watched him from the front window, and then walked to his old room, where Jay was already sleeping soundly, slipped his hand through the covers, and started toying with his cock as well, before sucking him off all morning long, in his dreams.

The Fuck Dream (Part 2)

The dream continued for months. He didn’t know what to do. He suffered from insomnia, but every time he did fall asleep, the dream was there waiting for him, the stranger there to fuck him in his ass for what felt like hours each time, and when he woke, he’d always find that he had cum in the night. He considered seeing a therapist, but he felt like he was going insane. He wasn’t gay! He’d never felt any sort of attraction to men. And then, as he was reching his breaking point, as suddenly as the dreams had begun, they stopped all together.

The morning after his first restful night of sleep in ages, he woke, and sobbed with relief. Still, he’d woken up quite horny, so he started to jack off, but instead of heading for his cock, his hand went around, found his hole, slipped inside and began digging in. He moaned in pleasure, but when he tried to stop, he couldn’t–he finger fucked himself for ten minutes, until with a long cry, he came without touching his cock once.

The dream never came back, but the horniness–and the urges–only got worse. For a while, he could satisfy himself with his fingers, but when he needed something…bigger, he broke down and bought a dildo at a sex shop–and when that worked too well on his hole, he bought a few more toys to go with it. He wasted entire days and evenings fucking himself and sucking on dildos, forced to go to greater and greater lengths before his cock would finally cum, and he would be allowed to stop. Still, he could sense that even these dildos would keep him content for only so long–he would need flesh inside him soon. Just…thinking about it, about some massive cock in his hole–it was enough to send him into another round of self–fucking, and this time it lasted three hours before he finally came. Still, he wouldn’t gibe in. No matter…no matter how much he wanted, he couldn’t…right? Then again, maybe…maybe just once…just to feel it, for real. The dreams were so distant now, but he…missed them. Missed how full he’d felt, with the stranger’s cock inside him. That night, he begged a stranger in a bar to fuck him, and never looked back.

The Fuck Dream (Part 1)

The first time he had the dream, he couldn’t believe how vivid it was–almost like he’d simply woken up in his bed, in the middle of the night, as happened sometimes. However, despite how vivid it was, it had felt like a dream all the same. The room…it didn’t seem to have a consistent perspective. He was looking out his eyes, and yet also…looking down at himself, somehow disembodied at the same time. But most disturbing of all, was the stranger standing at the foot of his bed. He ended up referring to him as the stranger, because the figures face kept…shifting. Every time he looked away, and then back, the face would have changed. One moment, it was his father. The next, one of his friends from college, another, his first grade teacher. It wasn’t really any of those people though–the stranger…well, he still didn’t know who, or what, it was.

He realized, as soon as the dream began, that he had no control over his body. Once, when he was young, he’d had several bouts of sleep paralysis, and it reminded him of that. It only grew worse as the stranger climbed on top of him, crushing him, forcing his body into a position on his side, one leg up, and he watched as a parade of faces–men he’d seen the day before in passing, old acquaintences from years passed–fucked him. It began slowly, with the stranger tickling his hole with his cock, as he fought to wake up from the nightmare, but soon, the stranger was pounding in deep, ignoring the young man’s cries and pleas, the dream only dissolving away after the stranger came, and he sat up in his bed for real, covered in sweat.

Sweat and…cum. Looking down, he realized he’d shot a load all over his chest in the night. Unnerved, he didn’t sleep again until the next day, when the dream returned again. And again the next night after that. And again, and again, and again…

Medical Trials (Part 4)

~~~A Few Months Later~~~

Evan pushed the janitorial cart down the hall, and into the last cell on the hallway. The room was filthy, but he knew better than to ask questions about what might have happened in there–he could smell some cum, shit and piss, but there was more blood than anything else. He stripped the bed and shoved the still damp, but cool sheets into the laundry bag, and then started cleaning up the walls.

He’d been working in the Trinq labs as a janitor for…for as long as he could remember, which wasn’t really that long. He wasn’t exactly smart, and most everything failed to keep his interest, unless it had to do with his job, cum, or his boyfriend. He wiped down the mirror, looking at his face with disinterest. It still wasn’t quite…familiar to him, but that didn’t really matter. It was his face. How he felt about the face wasn’t important. How he felt wasn’t important. Feelings weren’t really…possible anymore anyway; all he ever really felt was calm detachment. It didn’t matter how he felt, all that mattered was that he did what he was told. He looked at himself anyway, through the red streaks. His head was perfectly smooth, just like the rest of his body. His hair had all fallen out–even his eyebrows–and none of it had grown back, not even months after his final injection. No longer strong and angular, his face was round and soft, cheeks puffed out and drooping, chins and jowls like pliable wax, eyes distant.

The rest of his body was similar. He’d shrunk substantially in the final round of tests, dropping from six foot three down to about five feet tall, even as he’d packed on fat. His weight had stabilized at 325 pounds, now that he was no longer receiving injections, but it hung off him in flaps and rolls, his grimy coveralls, grey with the Trinq logo on the breast, bulging and heaving with each movement. His balls were gone. They’d shrunk smaller and smaller until they simply ceased to exist, and his cock was less than an inch long, and completely numb to all sensation. He no longer felt like a man, really. He felt like something else entirely–genderless, perhaps, but not a woman either. Just a drone, or an object. Something unimportant. Something that existed to be used, like a tool.

He cleaned the room, hoping there might be a bit of cum he could eat, but while he could smell it, the blood was everywhere, leaving him disappointed and hungry. The room was clean in a few hours, and he checked his watch–his shift had ended fifteen minutes ago, so he wheeled the cart back to the janitorial area, threw the bloody sheets down the chute to the incinerator, got out of his jumpsuit and burned that as well, and back into his street clothes, before clocking out.

He left Trinq’s building, and walked to the bus stop. He’d grown used to the stares by now–everyone he passed could tell there was something wrong with him, that he wasn’t supposed to exist, that he didn’t fit into their usual categories. More than once, he’d been cornered by men and pummelled in alleys on the way home, but he didn’t mind that much. The longer men were around him, after all, the more likely they would feed him their cum. That was something he’d learned rather quickly–that something about him, either how he looked, or how he smelled, made men want to use him as a cumdump. He could imagine that might make a normal person feel humiliated, but Evan just felt something resembling gratitude. He liked being something that had a purpose–he liked being used.

There was no incident like that this evening, though he sat next to an older business man on the bus, and after a few minutes, the man pulled out his cock, and ordered Evan to suck it–he was happy to have a snack, at least. He got off at his stop, and walked the few blocks to where he lived with his boyfriend, Adam. But Adam wasn’t really a boyfriend, in the same way Evan wasn’t really a man any longer.

Adam worked as a police detective–in particular, he’d taken over the caseload of a certain Evan Timmons, who’d committed suicide earlier that year. He didn’t really work for the police, however. Or rather, he worked for the police, but he also worked for Trinq Inc.–burying cases, funnelling prisoners and inconvenient witnesses into experimental drug programs, destroying evidence. In return, Adam had been receiving samples of several new drug therapies from the company. He was already home when Evan arrived–he could smell him in the second bedroom of the apartment, which was where Evan slept in a cage, and where Adam worked out. Evan stripped out of his clothes and went and found his master, smelling him, hungry for his cum. Adam was naked as well, his extremely hirsute body matted with sweat, foot long cock half hard and leaking on the floor. Evan got down and began cleaning up–sweat, cum, piss, anything his master left behind as he continued his workout, not paying any attention to the thing following him around the room. Adam might have felt a twinge of guilt, at one point, but power and strength was more important to him now. In truth, Evan disgusted him, but also terrified him. Trinq’s executives had made it perfectly clear to him who Evan actually was–and that if Adam ever betrayed them, that he would suffer an even worse fate at their hands than the blob Officer Timmon’s had become. Trinq wasn’t about to let anyone stand in their way of power either, after all. They were going to change the world, whether people wanted them to, or not.

He’d been so focused on his bicep curls, that his six pack had already disappeared by the time he set down the weight, and went to flex at himself in the mirror. He realized the reflection seemed off, but it took him a moment, and another ten pounds gained, before he realized what was happening, lifted up his shirt, and nearly screamed in the middle of the gym floor.

What the fuck was happening to him? He grabbed the flab in his hands, just to see if it was real, and discovered that…he could feel it growing and expanding. He looked around in a panic, unable to understand how something like this could even be happening, and then he ran for the locker room. He had to get to a doctor or something, he had to figure out what was wrong with him!

But by the time he got to the locker room, his clothes no longer fit. The changes had accelerated, and he pulled on his jeans just in time to have the seams ripped apart my his expanding ass. He stared at his new, hairy body in the mirror hanging over the sink, disgusted with himself, when he noticed someone watching him with a smirk…someone…he thought he should be able to recognize.

It wasn’t until he was bent over the sink, the stranger’s cock buried in his fat ass, holding his hair back, filming the video to post later, and he realized it was Ian, a massively obese guy he’d bullied for years in college, now looking slim and trim after transferring all of his fat to his old bully, and taking his muscles for himself. He was nice enough to leave him some 4XL clothes once he was finished, but for his old bully, getting clothed was only the beginning of his problems. His hole was still itching for a cock…and if he didn’t find something to plug up there, he felt like he was going to go insane.

“Who’s the fat ass faggot now?” was all Ian said as he left the locker room, and the ex-jock to his new life.

Source: hotchubsblog