Category: Uncategorized

Mr. Drake’s Games – Part 1

“Oh, just go help him out, Jay,” his dad said, “Mr. Drake said he’d pay you twenty bucks.”

“But dad, he’s a fucking creep.” Then again, it wasn’t all that surprising that his dad and Mr. Drake got along–both of them were chubby, hairy old faggots. Hell, just the way his dad was looking at him, was making him uncomfortable…his dad never used to look at him like that…right?

Jay’s dad just stared at him from where he was lounging in his recliner, naked like he always was around the house. Part of Jay knew that wasn’t normal, but he couldn’t quite figure out where his doubts were coming from. “Go help our neighbor, or no video games for a week.”

“But dad–”

“Go on, Jay.”

Jay grumbled, but he headed out the front door and crossed the cul-de-sac heading towards Mr. Drake’s house. He couldn’t believe his dad sometimes–he hated it here. Why in the hell hadn’t he gotten out of here yet? Jay had turned twenty one a few months ago, but he was having a hard time getting on his feet. He certainly hadn’t planned on staying with his dad, but a DUI during his senior year of high school had cost him the athletic scholarship he’d been banking on to go to college, and so here he was stuck, with his fat, dirty slob of a father. At least he was still in shape, he told himself–it could be worse. Still, something was bothering him–his dad had used to hate Mr. Drake, hadn’t he? Everyone in the neighborhood did–he was dragging everyone’s property values down with his hoarding and decrepit old house. He was still trying to figure out what was wrong as he climbed up onto the porch cluttered with junk and knocked on the door. “Mr. Drake? Are you there?”

“Is that you Jay? Come on in, boy.”

Jay pushed open the door to his neighbor’s house, and found himself confronted with a very naked Mr. Drake on a couch, leering at him.

“What the fuck? Put some clothes on, you fucking sicko!”

“Heh, I’d be much happier to see you lose yours, Jay. In fact, why don’t we get right to it and grow you out of them?”

Jay wanted to run, but somehow he was rooted to the spot where he was standing, and something strange was happening–his body, he could feel himself changing. Looking down, his tight T-shirt was starting to bulge out, and started to ride up as his abs were swallowed up by a soft, pudgy gut. “What…what the fuck are you doing? Fucking stop it!” Mr. Drake didn’t say anything, and Jay felt his clothes tightening around him, the collar cutting into his fattening neck, chest tight across his growing moobs, the seams of his jeans starting to tear as his thighs expanded. Mr. Drake stood up from the couch, walked over and started ripping at Jay’s clothes, pulling them away in tatters until he stood naked aside from a pair of very tight briefs stretched tight by his new fat body.

“Oh yes, that’s much better,” Mr. Drake said, “No more muscles for you boy, just fat, fat, fat, just like your new fatass daddy over there.”

Jay was trying to move, but his feet were still rooted to the floor, Mr, Drake feeling his fat curves and laughing, “This is crazy, what the hell did you do to me?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m just having a little fun, is all,” Mr. Drake said, “I was getting tired of everyone around here looking down at me all the time, so I thought why not bring everyone else down here with me? And who better to start with than your big buff dad and his muscular son? Then again, you probably don’t remember how your dad used to look, do you? He was muscular too, earlier today, but after a little bit of conversation…well, he’s much friendlier now, don’t you think? He certainly things highly of you–why we masturbated together earlier, fantasizing about what we were going to do to you.”

He could remember. Those strange thoughts he’d been having as he walked over here, he could remember…kind of. His dad had been in shape like him. A clean freak, not the fat slob who’d sent him over here. Now he felt something else–fear. He was fat–fatter than he could believe…and he couldn’t quite remember being thin at all. He’d been this fat all his life, hadn’t he? “Please, I don’t know what you want, but please, don’t do this to me.”

Mr. Drake laughed, “Well, how about this? How about you lay down here, and you do, say, one hundred sit ups? If you can do that–if you can prove to me how much you want that hot, muscular body of yours back, then I’ll give it to you. I’ll even change your dad back, and I’ll leave forever. How does that sound? But if you can’t, well, then being fat is going to be the least of your worries, boy.”

What choice did he have? He cleared a space among the trash littering Mr. Drake’s floor, and got down. How hard could it be, anyway? He could do a hundred sit ups easily. He shoved himself up, pushing against all the new weight holding him down, and realized this was going to be much harder than he thought. But what choice did he have? Mr. Drake counted as he did, taunting him as he started shaking, as he started slowing down. Laughing matching his panting.

“You’re not gonna make it, look at you fatty! You’re not even halfway and you’re already close to a heart attack.”

But he hit fifty, and he kept going, his lungs burning, abs threatening to cramp up, but he kept going. Mr. Drake grew quieter as he hit eighty and kept going, but at eighty seven, he finally hit a limit. He simply couldn’t raise himself up again, and he collapsed back onto the ground with a sob.

“Well, you did better than I thought you would, but you still didn’t make it boy–so I guess the question is what I’m going to do to you now? Still, I bet you’re thirsty–would you like a drink?”

Hell yeah, I’m fuckin’ thirsty,” Jay said.

“Well come on then, you fuckin’ faggot, drink all the old cum you want,” Mr. Drake said, got down on his knees with his cock in Jay’s face, and his fat young neighbor swallowed the head without even questioning it, sucking at the head happily. It was only a few minutes later, when he’d been worshiping the old cock avidly, that Jay realized what he was doing, and he struggled–but exhausted from his failed challenge, Mr. Drake was easily able to shove his head back against the floor and fuck his throat. After a minute, the doubts passed again, and Jay began moaning in pleasure until his neighbor came, pumping his entire load down Jay’s gulping throat, and then he got off him, huffing and puffing himself.

“You made me a faggot,” Jay said.

“You don’t seem to be complaining.”

“I’m…I’m not. I mean, no. What the fuck is wrong with me?” he said to himself, “I don’t want this, I fucking don’t, but…”

“But it feels good, doesn’t it? My old cum tastes good, and you want more, don’t you?”

Jay’s face turned red again. They both knew what the answer was.

“Still, thanks for your help–if I need another blow job, you’ll be happy to help me out, I’m sure–but you should get home fatty–I bet your dad would love a blow job too.”

Jay sat up, and then he had a thought. It was a long shot, but maybe, just maybe he still had a chance to get out of this.

Master Fitzroy’s Stables – Charlie’s POV (Patreon Commission)

“Beautiful, simply beautiful,” Master Fitzroy said, as he walked along the length of Charlie’s body, one hand beginning on his rump, rubbing the horse hair backwards until he came to the sudden transition to supple flesh. He couldn’t believe how smooth the blend was–he really would have to find some way to reward Professor Bimmel for his extraordinary work here. Charlie, however, was trying to make sense of what was happening to him, of what had happened to him. He could vaguely remember being taken from his room by several butlers, and dragged to the basement, but then he woke up here, curled up in the stable straw, and his body…it was wrong.

He looked over one hulking shoulder at his hind end, at the horse tail flicking away a few flies at the other end. He hadn’t had a tail before, he knew that. He’d had…different legs. He’d been able to stand on them. But it was fuzzy, everything was fuzzy. His head felt like it had become a swamp, and he had to work so much harder to slog through even simple thoughts, but he’d been different, he knew that. He’d stood up this morning, on his own, on all fours, and he’d tried to stand up more…but he couldn’t bend like that anymore. Master Fitzroy made it look so easy, as he sauntered around in front of him, his hands exploring Charlie’s new body. Master Fitzroy made everything look easy though. Master Fitzroy was amazing–he could do anything, he knew everything, he was the most important man Charlie could imagine. He would know what had happened to him–he had to know. It was hard to get the words out–his mouth was normal, but his head had to fight to get them out, “Sir…what…happened to me? I don’t understand…”

“Shhh,” Master Fitzroy said, and pressed one finger to his lips, “I understand that this must be difficult for you. Your mind is having to do many things that it’s never had to do before. It will get easier for you, I promise.”

“But I was…like you before. And now…now what am I?”

“What are you? Why, you are magnificent! You are my greatest creation to date. You should be filled with pride–why just look at you! You are a first, a marvel, an utter curiosity. Why, men will be lining up for the opportunity to feel that massive horse cock in their holes, don’t you worry. And Mr. Grant–oh, just you wait until Mr’ Grant sees you, then that fucker will get what’s coming to to him.”

Mr. Grant. The name meant something to him, but he didn’t quite know how. Mr. Grant was the name of the man who cared for him, and…and something else too. Something that made his stomach churn a bit, something that made the head of his cock slide from its sheath.

“In fact, speaking of Mr. Grant, I’m certain he will be here soon–I really should greet him. Now stay here, and wait for me to return Charlie, I promise I won’t tarry.”

With that, Master Fitzroy left the room, but Charlie was still thinking of Mr. Grant, and reaching back with one long arm and huge hand to his growing cock. His hand was so big, he could actually wrap it around most of the shaft, and he gave it a few experimental pumps, snorting a few times as he did, eyes rolling at the pleasure. It was like a wave of new sensations crashing over him. He could remember having a cock before, but not like this, nothing like this pleasure in his whole life.

He was startled by the door opening again, and he quickly let go of his cock, returning to all fours. Master Fitzroy walked in, and after him came Mr. Grant–and he recognized him, but the smell of him. It sent shivers through his entire body, it made his heart and cock throb. Fuck him. He had to fuck him. Mr. Grant needed cock–his cock, horse cock, yes, he needed to rip him open, he needed to rip him to shreds, he needed…

His mind was slowing down again, even more this time. Mr. Grant and Master Fitzroy spoke, but he couldn’t quite follow what they were saying. He spoke too, but it felt unreal, like a dream, and he couldn’t quite…hear himself. His experience was shrinking down to his nose, that scent, his heart, his cock, that ass. He saw one of his hands reach out and yank down Mr. Grant’s breeches, he saw that ass, he needed that ass so badly. Mr. Grant fell, he tried to crawl, but then he stopped on his hands and knees, allowing Charlie the opportunity to walk over him, to stoop down and thrust his huge cock towards the hole.

It took them a few tries to successfully couple. Mr. Grant had to shove his ass higher; Charlie had to crouch slightly, but it was worth it, feeling his cock slide into that tight hole. Hearing Mr. Grant scream, hearing the screams turn from agony to joy, feeling his massive cock shove itself deeper and deeper, as deep as he could. Master Fitzroy was taunting Mr. Grant, telling him to take his punishment, and yes, Master was right, he deserved it. He had been bad, very bad, and now he had to be punished, now he had to feel pain. A new smell wafted up to him–cum. Mr. Grant had cum, like a slut, and he began thrusting harder and faster, feeling his own orgasm building. He flooded Mr. Grant’s hole with cum, so much that it pumped back out, dribbling from his old loose hole down onto the dirt, and finally, when he was no longer stiff enough to stay inside, he plodded back on hands and hooves, huffing and sweating with exhaustion, but Master was happy, Master was grinning at him. He had done good, he had done very good, and Mr. Grant, he had enjoyed it too, he could tell. And he knew he would be enjoying Mr. Grant’s old hole many, many times in the future.

The Fall of Troy – Part 6

***WARNING*** Contains mentions of scat and bestiality.

Troy had expected, like before, that he would have no memory of that old life of his, but Leo had no real reason any more to lock them away–after all, Troy had no real desire to go back to his old ways anymore. Trying to describe it to himself, once his father’s eyes had returned to their normal grey, it was like he was trapped on the side of a sheer cliff plunging down into darkness. leo had been leading him down the side all weekend, but only now did he realize his predicament. He was now incapable of climbing the side of the cliff back to where, and who, he’d been, but more importantly, he no longer desired that self. Down there, into the darkness, there was someone down there, someone he could be who was far more interesting, far sexier, far more desirable than anything he’d been before, and he wanted to get there, he wanted to climb down as deep as he could go.

From that moment on, Troy rarely ventured up the stairs into the house proper. As far as his step-mother was concerned, he didn’t even exist. Leo, in an effort to help his son, brought in a number of private tutors he’d contacted online, who were more than happy to help guide his son deeper into the pit. Master Parker, an overly muscled power bottom, helped stretch Troy’s holes, taught him to eliminate his gag reflex, showed him how to take two big arms in his ass at the same time, and just how good a punch fuck could feel. Master Jack, a chubby, grungy trucker, oversaw his development as a true, full service toilet slave. Master Emerson developed his sadism, schooled him in bondage and pain, as well as the proper manners of a pig in his position. Troy eagerly learned everything he could, finding his way down the slope. Before too long, he discovered that the light was disappearing on its own. He could barely recall his old self, and he pushed it away, eager to be away from it.

Of course, he had to make money in order to pay rent. Leo was flexible, but he wasn’t about to have a son in his house who couldn’t pay his fair share. Much of his money, at first, came from renting himself out to private fetish parties, generally as a toilet, or occasionally as a fist hole for a group of tops to brutalize. His camshows gained a devoted viewership as well, watching him degrade himself in his rooms, fuck himself with massive dildos, eat his own shit off a plate. For a certain amount of money, someone could pay him to fulfill a particular fantasy of theirs–some were easier than others, but finding a farmer willing to let a boar fuck his hole in his barn took him and Leo several months of searching.

It was his idea to sell off his skin. For a steep price, including the cost of the tattoo, anyone could buy a patch of his skin and cover it with the tattoo of their choosing. His father actually purchased the first one–which turned out to be a fine business investment of it’s own. He had the name of his cam site tattooed across his forehead–www.fithpigtroy.net–and immediately he saw an increase in subscribers. Some people paid for more traditional tattoos, like the realistic turds tattooed on his cheeks, but quite a few others followed Leo’s example and used his skin to advertise their own fetish sites.

Years passed, and Troy began to notice something new–there were certainly plenty of men who watched him to see him humiliate himself, but there was also a group who wanted to be him. Who wished they could take the same steps that he had, who wanted to be pigs too. He offered an apprenticeship (serious applications only) and was swamped by the response. He eventually culled the applicants to one, and he moved his apprentice pig in with him, showing him the ropes, finding a strange pleasure in controlling someone and forcing them to walk their way down into the same deep pit of deranged filth that he himself now called home. And that was when the trouble started.

He and Leo started fighting more and more often. Troy was the one making him all of his money after all, so why shouldn’t he be able to keep it? Leo, finally, had had enough, and he tried to stare him down, only to discover his son had fallen deeper than he could control–Troy was his own pig now, and there was nothing he could do about it. Troy and his apprentice pressed their advantage, blindfolded him and chained him to a chair, and a new bidding process began. Tens of thousands of dollars later, it was decided–Troy shipped Leo off to a private bathhouse where he would spend the rest of his days chained in a bathroom, just another urinal for the men who visited there, and Troy’s empire grew. True, he may have fallen, and yet, who could have known that at the bottom of the pit he would find himself atop a castle of another sort altogether?

The Fall of Troy – Part 5

Troy woke up slowly, stinking, sweaty and wet. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he might have pissed himself on the couch in the night–he knew that should disgust him, but all it did was make him feel surprisingly horny. He sat up, groping at his hard cock, and found Leo sitting in a chair off to the side of the couch, his eyes glowing white. Not the flashes from before–a steady, constant white, and Troy felt his old self pushing up through the filth. He wanted to fight, he wanted to go take a thousand showers, but something held him there on the couch, pinning him there while Leo smiled and said, “Good morning, son–how are you doing today?”

“Fuck you, Leo. Fuck…” but he didn’t know what else to say.

“I just thought it might be nice for the two of us to talk today, father and son–you know, about your place in this household going forward. You see, Troy, I can only push you down so far, and you have a strong mind. Letting you out for air on occasion helps me keep you under control, but it just wouldn’t be a sustainable solution in the long run. So you see, that really leaves us with two choices here, a choice you’re going to have to make.”

“How in the hell can I believe anything you say?”

“Well, you probably can’t. But if you really want to keep this mind of yours, if you want to start the long, arduous climb back out of this pit of filth I’ve thrown you down into, you can do that. But not here–not under my roof. If that’s what you want, then you’re on your own–we’ll drive into the city, and I’ll leave you on the streets with no memory of where you lived, of who I am, or who your step-mother is, and you can try to make it on your own. I mean, as well as a fat slob like you with no money or resources can make it. I don’t think you’ll get very far on your own, to be honest, but that’s a choice you can make.”

“That’s not a fucking choice! What the fuck are you even talking about?”

“Well, the other option is that you stay–and you fall completely. You lose the will to fight, you accept this, and you keep falling. You see, I made a few changes to the basement last night. The main room? That’s a massive sex dungeon, wired up with all sorts of cameras so you can broadcast your filth to the internet. Because if you stay here, you’re going to have to pay rent, you know. You’re going to have to sell that fat, disgusting body if you want to stay here, but I have all the confidence that you can do it, and I might have a few contacts to help you out, if you ask nicely. But you’ll love your life, because you–this old Troy–won’t ever come back. You’ll just be a dumb stinking slob, falling deeper and deeper into your own perversions for the rest of your life. That’s the other choice you have–compared to that, well, maybe a life on the city streets doesn’t sound so bad, eh?”

Troy just stared at him, anger and fury boiling in him, “Fuck you, I can make it. Dump me in the city if you want, I don’t fucking care, anything to be away from you.”

Leo shrugged, “Alright then–get dressed, and let’s get in the car.”

They drove to the city in silence, but as they did, Troy felt doubt start to creep in. He wouldn’t have any money, just the clothes on his back and his wits. But worse, he’d still be saddled with this body. He was halfway there before he realized he still had the dildo in his ass, and that he didn’t want to take it out. That he still was hornier than ever, that he could smell the piss in his clothes, and all he wanted to do was taste it, suck it out, and piss in them some more. He had his mind, and yet this body still wanted everything Leo had forced on him. He smoked a cigar as they drove–it helped calm him down, but he couldn’t even stop that. What in the hell was he going to do?

Leo drove around and eventually pulled up in a well worn industrial district. The sidewalk was empty, and he put the car in park, the engine still running. “Alright son,” he said, “Here’s your stop. I’ll miss you, but not really that much.”

Troy stared at the sidewalk out the window for a few moments, before he muttered, “I…I can’t do this.”

“What was that?”

“I can’t do this. I can’t…not like this. What the fuck am I supposed to do? How the fuck could I get a job? Where the fuck would I even go?”

“That’s not my problem, that’s yours. You made your choice, Troy, now get out.”

Troy looked at him, “Please, don’t do this to me, please don’t make me do this,” he said, but that smirk on Leo’s face–he’d known. He’d known Troy was never going to get out of the car, not willingly. “Please, just…I’ll do whatever you want–be whoever you want. Just let me come home.”

“Fine,” Leo said, “But I did give you a choice, remember,” he pulled his cock out of his jeans, “Now suck me off, you got me all horny with that misery of yours.”

What choice did he have? Troy sucked his father off the whole way home, trying not to enjoy it as much as he was, and trying not to think about what would happen when they got home. Leo led him down into the basement, and gave him a tour of his new rooms. The sling and the rimseat. The cameras everywhere, including his filthy bathroom. His closet full of leather and rubber, almost all of it in yellow and brown. The bed covered in rubber sheets. He wanted Troy to know what he was going to become, before it happened, and then Leo’s eyes went dark, and then black, but not black like before. Not a forceful black–the black of an abyss. A pit you can’t help but stare into. A pit deep enough to lose yourself and not even notice. He gave a snort, and fell in, deeper and deeper into Leo, into himself, and he knew he would never make his way out of it again.

The Fall of Troy (Part 4)

***WARNING*** Still somewhat filthy.

He didn’t have to look far; Leo was waiting for him in the living room, wearing only a pair of boxers. He smiled when he saw Troy emerge from the basement stairs, give his asscrack a scratch with his full hand, and then give them a sniff. “Hey dad, ya got anything to eat?”

“Well, I’m not cooking, but the fridge and pantry are pretty packed. You feelin’ better after some private time?”

Troy grinned, “Fuck dad, you know I love my time on the shitter. Still, I hungry as fuck, I’m gonna find something to eat.”

“Well hold on,” Leo said, and hefted himself up off the couch, “Before you do that, I got something to ask you.” He walked over, blinked, his eyes flashing brightly for a moment, leaving spots in Troy’s vision, “What do you think of yourself now, piggy?”

The stench.

His stench.

He gagged. Leo was laughing at him, and he barely managed to keep himself from vomiting. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, what the fuck did you do, you fucker?”

“You think I didn’t hear you, every time you called me a slob? You think I didn’t see you grimace every time I let loose a fart or a belch? You think I couldn’t feel your disgust? Well son, good to know I’m not the filthiest one in this house anymore–I think that title has passed to you.”

He had to fix this, he had to do something, but it was overwhelming. His hands were trembling, he had to calm down. He pushed past Leo and hurried to the living room table, where he grabbed a cigar, and lit it, but it wasn’t enough, so he chugged a warm beer, dulling the edge of his anxiety, but that only made things worse. Why had he done that? He could have run and taken a shower. He could have punched Leo in the face. Instead…instead he’d gotten a drink and smoke, but…but why wouldn’t he do that? “Please…please, I don’t…just change me back, I’ll do anything. If you want me to leave, I’ll leave. You’ll never see me again, I promise.”

“Oh Troy, but where in the world would you go? You’re too stupid to hold down a job, not to mention no one would hire someone as filthy as you. No, I think you’re stuck living with your dad and stepmom for a good while longer I think.”

Dad and Stepmom? “No…No, that’s not right…you’re my stepdad…”

“Well, I was your stepdad,” Leo said, “But after that little session of yours, with all that DNA of mine…well, I think your paternity might have gone and switched.”

“No, I have a dad, a different dad…” Leo said, but he couldn’t dredge a face from his memory. It was just Leo, always Leo. “No, you can’t do this, I won’t just give in this time, I’ll fucking fight you.” He put out the cigar in the ashtray, but immediately regretted it. He needed it. He needed smoke, fuck, what the fuck did he even do that for? He fought the urge, but it was painful. Leo laughed some more, turned, and started walking away.

“Heh, suit yourself, son, but your dad here has to take a shit and a piss–I’ll go ahead and leave the door open in case you want to join me–you know, like you usually do.”

He winked, and Troy’s mind filled in the blanks. How he worshiped his father’s body while he sat on the toilet, how he drank his piss, licked his fat body clean, sucked on his feet…He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, but he couldn’t quite get his hand out of his piss soaked briefs, couldn’t quite stop stroking his cock. He had to think, he had to figure out a way out of this, but how was he going to do that? He was a fucking dunce after all. Fuck, he could barely read, much less right, much less think. Thinking was fucking hard, thinking ‘bout his cock was easy though. Thinkin’ ‘bout his dad, sittin’ on the toilet, gettin’ ready to shit…He licked his lips, heard himself say, “Hold on dad, I’m…I’m comin’,” and he started after him.

He wasn’t really going to do this, was he?

Leo was already sitting on the toilet. “Fuck son, you almost missed it. Hurry up ‘n get down here, if you want to watch.”

He got down on his knees, and stuck his head down between his dad’s thighs and down into the bowl as far as he could, the bottom of his beard dragging into the water, his dad’s balls resting on his head. A loud fart, and the shit started coming out. It was so rank he could almost taste it. Something warm and wet hit the back of his head–Leo was pissing, arcing it up in a stream and back down onto Troy’s head and neck, and then he aimed it further out, soaking his son’s back, listening to the pig grunt and moan as he tugged on his cock in front of the toilet. Done shitting, he put legs up on Troy’s shoulders, rolling his ass forward, and his pig son, resistance forgotten, dove in and started licking and sucking at his shithole, cleaning him up, before licking at Leo’s balls and finally swallowing his cock. Leo had saved some piss–he fed it right into Troy’s mouth, and chased it with a blast of cum, and then he swung his legs off and stood up.

“I got some errands to run, pig–I’ll probably be back late. Make sure you clean up in here when you’re finished–I don’t want it looking like the sty you have going downstairs in here.”

Troy was only half listening–he had his face shoved in the bowl, his hand jacking at rapid pace, and he he finally shot across the base of the toilet. Leo shook his head went and got dressed and headed out. Troy stayed in the bathroom for a while longer, cleaning up–licking the piss off the floor and the toilet seat, making sure he got his cum off the toilet base, and finally, with a bit of regret, he flushed the toilet–at least he had his stash downstairs if he felt the need for some more private time, but now, it was time to eat.

The rest of the evening was spent watching porn on TV, making frequent trips to and from the fridge and the pantry. By the time Leo returned, carrying bags and boxes in from his truck, Troy was passed out, dildo shoved in his hole, deep asleep. One more day, Leo thought to himself, and started hauling things down into the basement. Of course, it would be Troy’s choice whether he’d fall the rest of the way, but Leo had a feeling his son would see things his way more likely than not.

The Fall of Troy – Part 3

***Warning*** It starts getting a bit messy here, including some light scat. 

Troy opened the door to the bathroom, and it was the stench that caught him first, and he had to suppress his gag reflex. Its true that he wasn’t exactly the cleanest guy, but even that was a bit more than he could handle. The floor was littered with dirty laundry–a large amount of it underwear, the toilet looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages, and the sink was clogged with hair. The cleanest part of the room was probably the shower, which was missing a curtain…and also a shower head, meaning it probably hadn’t been used in quite a while. Still, how did it look this bad? He was pretty much the only person who used the room, since Leo and his mom shared the master bath upstairs.

“What’s wrong, son?” Troy looked over his shoulder, right into Leo’s pitch black eyes, eyes he’d seen the night before. He could almost…remember, but his mind, Leo was inside him again, messing with him again, and he couldn’t do anything but stand there, drooling dumbly as Leo mindfucked him once again. “Now, son, I know how important your private bathroom time is for you, so why don’t you go ahead and enjoy yourself for a while, eh?”

Troy nodded slowly, and then stepped into the bathroom, allowing Leo to shut the door on him, and it was like he’d woken up in a dream. This couldn’t be real, none of this could possibly be happening. He took a few deep breaths of the stinking, stale air, and felt himself calm down a bit. He always felt better surrounded by his own filth, right? He looked at himself in the grimy mirror through an additional haze of smoke from his cigar, and had a hard time recognizing himself. The beard he’d grown the night before was even longer now, very curly and bushy, looking like his face was coated with a pubic bush. His hair had grown out as well, and it shone with grease. The rest of his body was similarly hairy, and he ran his filthy hands over his gut, feeling the fur, before lifting an arm to sniff at his massive, stinking pitbush. It was rank. He was rank. Then again, when you hadn’t taken a shower in months that’s what happens, not that he minded. He felt a gurgle in his gut, and let loose a long, wet fart–probably time to get down to business.

He walked over to the toilet to take a seat, and saw that the bowl was already filled with at least two loads of shit, and who knew how much piss. No wonder it smelled so fucking foul in here, and his smoke wasn’t helping either. He was starting to feel a bit lightheaded, though he wasn’t sure if it was the air, or just how fucking excited he was. A part of him, a small part growing smaller, tried to reach for the handle to flush it, but he pulled his hand back. It wasn’t time to flush it, not yet. He’d been saving it…right? Saving it for…for his private time. He was getting hard again–he pulled out his dildo and set it on the counter next to the toilet seeing the fleshy head coated with his shit (later–later) before plopping his fat ass down on the seat, and he let off a long, loud fart as he did. “Awww, fuck yeah…” he groaned, sniffing the fresh funk on the air for a moment, giving his fat nipples a twist. Still, he could shit in a moment–his bladder was calling.

Too bad he was too fat to piss on himself like before, still, he’d managed to devise a system that was almost as good. He fished around in the piles of his filthy clothes for a pair of briefs, well worn and stretched, stained a light yellow brown with a prominent shitstripe up the ass, positioned it under his cock, and started pissing on it, soaking it well, and then he stopped himself, took the soggy underwear and started sponging his fat body with his own piss, taking a moment every once in a while to suck as much as he could from the fabric with his mouth in between deep drags off his cigar, and once the briefs were no longer wet enough, he repeated the process with an equally filthy XXXL wifebeater, which he soaked through, wiped all over his body, and then pulled it on. His cigar was finished; he dropped the butt into the sink, and turned on a tap. He released the rest of his piss into the toilet, and then bore down, piling even more shit on top, his cock hardening, he he started working it slowly, taking long, snorting inhales of the filthy air, yanking up the filthy wifebeater to his nose and mouth, sucking at it, and when he was close, getting close, he fumbled for the filthy dildo next to him, shoved the nasty shit coated head in his mouth, and started sucking.

His cock exploded, spraying the toilet bowl, the wall across from him, the clothes in front of him. He worked the dildo deeper into his mouth, he kept milking his cock, horny as ever. With the dildo slick with spit again, he hefted himself up from the toilet, turned around, and got down on his knees in front of the full bowl, pushing the dildo back inside himself to the hilt, face to face with his own mess, and he fucked himself, taking long, deep breaths of his stink, until he came again across the base of the toilet.

Exhausted, coated with a foul mix of sweat and piss, surrounded by his filthy clothes, he started to calm down. He knew he should feel ashamed of himself, but it was like that part of his mind had shut off entirely. Instead he felt…proud. Excited. Happier than he could remember being in recent memory. He stared at the massive pile of shit in the toilet. He should flush it–or at least try to flush it, or…or he could just leave it. Just imagine what it might smell like in a few hours, if he did. Smirking, shit still smeared on his lips, he pushed himself back up. He found the briefs he’d soaked in piss and pulled them on, making sure to floss the ass deep into his nasty crack, and let out a belch. Fuck, he was hungry again already, maybe his dad had something cooking in the kitchen for them. He lumbered upstairs, and went to look for Leo.

The Fall of Troy – Part 2

Troy groaned on the couch, and shielded his eyes from the sunlight blazing in the front window. Fuck, how much had he drank last night? He didn’t usually get hangovers like this from a normal night of drinking, smoking and pawing his cock off. He reached out for the table, scattering empty cans too and fro, and thankfully there was a partial–flat and warm, but he chugged it down anyway, feeling some of it run out the sides of his mouth and down into his beard. He belched. One thing out of the way at least. He grabbed a cigar from the table and his lighter, puffing it gently, already feeling a bit better, and he laid back, rubbing his full gut, before letting his hand wander down to his hard morning wood.

“Awww, fuck yeah…” he groaned, and holding his cigar in his teeth, he rolled over slightly, letting himself grab the dildo which was still wedged in his ass, and start pumping it, “Nothin’ like a fuck to make a mornin’ better.”

He heard someone tromping downstairs, looked up and saw Leo yawning, naked, at the base of the stairs. For a moment he was embarrassed to be caught like this…but it sure as hell wasn’t the first time Leo had seen him with a dildo up his hole, right? Besides, he was too close to blowing to stop now, and if anything…seeing Leo sneer at him was kind of turning him on, and a couple strokes later, he felt his body spasm.

“Good to see someone’s morning’s going well.”

“Aww shut the fuck up, Leo. You makin’ breakfast?”

“Sure, but if I do, you know what you owe me.”

Leo made plenty of breakfast, and Troy plowed through two thirds of it, stuffing himself silly. Then, as was their usual bargain, he got down and sucked on Leo’s thick cock. He’d kept the dildo in his hole all through breakfast, and was again fucking himself with it, stroking himself closer to his second climax of the day, Leo helping him along by yanking on his fat tits, making his whole belly jiggle. Leo ended up spraying his load all over Troy’s beard, and Troy shot his load into his hand, before licking it up–but as he did, there was a flash of bright light from Leo’s eyes, and it was like a veil had been lifted. He screamed, heaving his fat body up, staring down at himself.

“What–what the fuck happened to me!” he stared at Leo and screamed at him, “You did this, what the fuck did you do?”

Leo just smiled, “Now now, is that any way to talk to your father? Especially when his cum is splattered in your beard?”

Troy took a step backwards away from him as Leo stood up, his anger boiling down into fear, “You did this. I don’t…Why?”

“Oh Troy, even when you were smart, you were dumb as a rock. I can’t very well have you draining your mom’s bank account with silly shit like ‘college tuition,’ or ‘room and board’. You see, milking her for money is my gig–but don’t worry, I’m sure with your skills we can find something for you to do with your life instead of college.”

“You can’t just…change shit like that.”

“Oh really? Tell me, what classes are you taking in high school right now?”

It was on the tip of his tongue, but not there at all. He wasn’t going to school–he’d dropped out as soon as he could…hadn’t he?

“No answer? Are you even going to school, or are you lounging around the house with your slobby stepdad, sucking and riding his cock every chance you get?” Leo fondled his cock, and Troy saw it was getting hard again already…and he wanted it. His body wanted it. His body was tired of dildos, it wanted its hole filled with flesh. “Tell you what, why don’t you go ahead and bend over the couch, and I’ll pump that ass of yours full of cum, how does that sound?”

His mind was fading fast, falling back into his new dullness. He needed a smoke. He needed a drink. He needed…he needed a fuck. His body was walking, not running. It was walking around behind the sofa, and he was bending over it, leg’s spread, showing off his fat ass, dildo still lodged inside.

“You need a cigar, son?”

“I’m…not your son.”

Leo shrugged, “Do you need one though?”

Troy nodded weakly, and Leo shoved one in his mouth, and lit it for him. “Now beg for it.”

“W-What?”

“Go on pig, beg for me to fuck you. Beg like those fat manwhores do in all those pornos you watch all day. Beg for me.”

“Not…I’m not gonna…” he moaned suddenly–Leo was working the dildo in and out, and then he pulled it out entirely. Empty, so fucking empty. “Fuck Leo, come on, put it in me already.”

“Put what in you?”

“Your cock man, your big fat cock, stuff your son’s fat hole full, come on man, I need it bad…”

Leo slipped into Troy’s hole, and laughed as the pig moaned. “Yeah, fuck, this is fuckin’ great. I could get used to this, you know? Fuckin’ not only that whore mom of yours, but her fat, slob son too. Both of you begging for my cock, all day long. Still, I’m really more of a pussy guy, you know? We might have to find a few more guys willing to fuck a nasty pig like you, eh?”

“S-Sure, but ya can stick that cock in my holes any time, daddy…”

“Heh, you fuckin’ slut,” Leo said, giving Troy’s fat ass a hard slap, “You’ll give your ass up to any cock that comes along. Still, don’t you fuckin’ worry, we’ll be keeping you plenty stuffed.”

Troy was fighting in his mind, fighting to hang on to any little shred of himself that he could find, but it just felt so…damn good. Sucking on a cigar, his daddy’s big cock lodged in his hole, what more could he ask for? He’d never wanted to go to college. He’d hated school, he’d hated sports, all he really wanted was to be a big, fat slob like Leo. With a loud groan, Leo came, pumping cum into him, and Troy felt his own stubby pig cock spurt his own load across the back of the couch. They both remained connected for a few moments, huffing and puffing, and then pulled apart, Leo collecting himself, Troy getting down and licking up his cum, sliding his dildo back into his loose asshole. But now, nature was calling–Troy hefted himself up. “Fuck, after all that pounding and I gotta piss like a horse. Could shit a mountain too, right about now.”

Troy smiled, “Make sure you use yours down in the basement–its all ready for you.”

“In the basement? Fuck, but then I gotta climb back up.”

“Go on, pig.”

Troy rolled his eyes, but obeyed unthinkingly, hefting his bulk down the stairs step by step, and Leo chuckled under his breath. By the time he had stepped inside and let out a gasp of surprise, Leo had followed him. He had to keep an eye on him after all.

The Fall of Troy – Part 1

For the life of him, Troy could never figure out why his mother had decided to marry Leo. It wasn’t that he was bad at her for divorcing his dad–he’d been as lousy a father as he’d been a husband, fucking plenty of women behind her back. But why couldn’t she see that Leo was just as terrible a guy, if not worse? Hell, at least his real dad could hold down a job–Leo couldn’t even manage that. All he did was lounge around the house, usually shirtless, his big gut hanging out, eating snacks, drinking beer and watching TV. And his mom just…accepted it. She was even working overtime at the firm to make extra money to cover expenses…but it was so strange. He tried to talk to her about Leo, but every time he did, she just got this…glazed over look in her eyes, like she wasn’t even listening. And she’d even had the nerve to ask him to find a part-time job after school to help pay for expenses! He couldn’t wait to graduate and head for college, just to get out of this crazy house.

Then, out of the blue, she left for an entire three day weekend–a girl’s weekend in Vegas that she hadn’t even mentioned to Troy, leaving him alone with Leo. Upset beyond words, he holed himself up in his room in the basement all Friday afternoon, just avoiding Leo as best he could, when there was a knock on his door. He didn’t answer it. Leo just opened the door, and he sighed, “What, Leo.”

“We’ve talked about this, Troy. I’d really appreciate it if you’d call me dad.”

“You’re not my dad. What do you want?”

Leo sighed, “Look, I know you don’t like me, I get it. But look, can we just try to…at least live together? Why don’t you come up and watch a movie with me or something? You can even have a beer, if you want. I won’t tell your mom.”

Troy looked back at him, suspicious, “You’ve never wanted to do something like that with me before.”

“I know I’m not always the nicest guy, but least come hang out for a bit. Two hours, one movie, have a beer, and I won’t bug you for the rest of the weekend if you don’t want me to.”

“I have schoolwork to do.”

Leo gave a heavy sigh, “Look…I’m trying my best, you know? But if you can’t even meet me halfway…No, you know what? It’s fine, really.” He turned and left, plodding downstairs.

Troy was happy he was gone, but the guilt still ate away at him, and he couldn’t even concentrate on his school work. After a couple of minutes, he grumbled a quiet “Fine…” to himself, stood up, and followed his step dad upstairs. “Leo? Look, I’ll watch a movie with you, if it means that much…” but that was as far as he got before he rounded the corner, and locked eyes with his stepdad, who was standing behind the couch…but his eyes, they were…black. Pitch black. And he couldn’t look away, but he felt something in his mind, he felt something happening to him. But before he could quite figure out what, Leo blinked. His eyes were back to normal, and Troy was left trying to figure out what had just happened to him.

“You know, on second thought, why don’t you enjoy some alone time, eh Troy?” Leo said, and walked around the couch, to his stepson. Leo wanted to run, but not…not really. More than that, he wanted to…watch a movie and…and relax. Yeah, take a load off, relax. Drink a beer and just…just…be for a while. Leo stopped in front of him, smiling, “I left you some of your favorite things on the coffee table–make sure you play with them all, son.”

Troy nodded, and then he lumbered past Leo and plopped down on the couch. The movie was already playing, and for a few minutes he watched some massively fat man, covered with hair, being fucked roughly by some massive, muscular, hairy man. He let out a moan, and stripped off his shorts and shirt, and he looked at the favorite things of his Leo had left for him on the table: a twenty-four pack of beer; eight or nine short, fat cigars with a zippo lighter beside them; piles and piles of snacks and candy; and one, massive, flesh colored dildo.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to run out the front door. What he did instead was sit up, grab a beer from the case, pop it open, and chug it. Then, he took a moment to light a cigar for himself, sucking the smoke down like he’d been doing it for ages (then again…hadn’t he been smoking for ages?) before grabbing a second beer, opening it, setting the the largest bowl of snacks next to him on the couch, and leaned back with a sigh, watching the porn like he did this all the time.

After a few moments, he reached down and started tugging at his cock, but as he did, his hand ran over something else–a gut. He hadn’t had a gut earlier, had he? He’d been in great shape, he spent almost all of his time in high school playing sports…or…or did he? He let out a belch, grabbed another beer, easily juggling the can, his cigar, handfuls of snacks, and his cock all the while. This felt…more natural than sports. Didn’t he really spend most of his time on the couch, binge eating, drinking beer, and watching porn? Fuck, that fat chub sure could take cock like a pro. He wondered what it might be like to get fucked like that.

Hours passed. He had no idea how many times he’d cum, or how many pornos he’d watched, but his eyes just kept drifting to the dildo on the table. Fuck it. He didn’t have any lube, so he licked it like he’d watched that fat chub lick that bear’s cock, and then placed it at his asshole, rolling over onto his big belly, reaching around and pushing the dildo into his hole. His cock shot a massive load as he did. He groped for another beer, but couldn’t quite reach. More important to fuck his piggy hole anyway, right? At least he still had a cigar to smoke.

Leo came down to investigate a little later, once he heard loud snoring coming from the couch. There Troy was–his stepson, weighing probably over four hundred pounds, reeking of beer and cigar smoke, a thick beard coating his face and fat chins, the dildo still buried in his ass as he slept. Just like he’d wanted. He headed down the basement stairs and made his way to Troy’s room, and sure enough, it was completely different. Where before it had been the cleanest room in the house, now it was utterly filthy. All of his athletic equipment had disappeared, replaced by XXXL shirts and drawers full of lube and dildos, and there on the desk beside an ashtray heaped with cigar butts–the set of college acceptance letters had disappeared, and he had a feeling that the new Troy had probably already dropped out of school entirely at this point. Leo smiled–if anyone was going to drain his bitch mom’s money it was him, not some clean nosed son going to college. Still, he wasn’t quite done–Troy had so much further to fall, after all. And luckily, Leo had all weekend to do shove him down further and further, but first he had some preparations to make down here, and got to work on Troy’s private bathroom in the basement.