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Bob was always on the hunt for a good workout music mix, something that would keep him going, but nothing that would draw his focus away from his workout. He’d been working out for a few months now, and he liked the progress he’d made, dropping some weight off and gaining some energy, but the weekly routine was starting to wear on him. He tried a few playlists over the next week, but he didn’t really enjoy any of them until he found a link to a “Zone Out Mix” on a weightlifting website.

He gave it a try during his next workout, and zone out was definitely an accurate description. He accidentally ended up staying at the gym for an extra hour, and he hadn’t even noticed. He couldn’t actually recall what the music on the playlist had been, and the thing came as one long playlist, so he couldn’t break it apart. Still, it became his regular workout track, and before long his four days at the gym had become six, and his hour and a half routine had grown to three. In fact, the gym had started cutting into some of his friendships, and he ended up cutting off his girlfriend of two years. She’d been harping about him going to the gym all the time, but he needed to get bigger, right? That was all that was really important.

It was soon after he’d broken up with her that the insomnia started. He was getting maybe two or three hours of sleep a night, and it was getting hard to focus at work, and the zone out mix was the only thing that kept him going to the gym. Now, he could barely remember being at the gym anymore. He’d put the mix on as he left his apartment to jog to the gym, and would come to back in his apartment three or four hours later, exhausted, every muscle on fire.

On one sleepless night, on the internet, he found another file by the guy who’d made the Zone Out Mix, a track designed to help people sleep. Desperate for a good night’s rest at this point, he downloaded it and listened to it on his earbuds, and had the first restful night he’d had in weeks. Thankful, he also found a second Zone Out Mix, and downloaded that as well. Before too long, his periods of lucidity were growing fewer and farther between. He woke up in the bathroom staring at his muscular body, and saw that he’d shaven off all of his hair–all of it. His scalp, his beard, his body, his pubes. Still, it looked real damn good.

Another time, he came to on his bed, a thick, seven inch dildo rammed deep in his ass. He yanked it out, terrified of what he was doing, but zoned out again almost immediately, and came to hours later, coated in his own cum, and from that moment on, going without something in his ass was nearly impossible. He never met his master–eventually, he simply zoned out so deep that he never came back. He abandoned his apartment and moved in with his master across the country, just another muscle beast working out all day, and pimped out to wealthy men every night, eyes empty, mouth drooling around the parade of cocks that were rammed down his throat, happy as could be.

The FAT Retreat (Part 1)

by Wesley Bracken

Commissioned by / Gifted to Gaynerpig

– Forward –

So, a while back, Gaynerpig told me he wanted to expand two captions I’d done into longer pieces, the first, about the Fat Action Team, and the second about this young man’s gassing experience. I suggested that we try and put the two together into one story, and, as things sometimes to, it ran a bit longer than I’d been expecting. So, he did commission some of it, but mostly it’s just a gift from me to him, and hopefully a few of you. Enjoy.

– Day One –

“No, you don’t understand! You hired me so you could test out a new training program! I mean, please, do I look like I belong in a fucking fat camp?” Leon said, protesting as the two white suited orderlies came up behind him.

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, Mr. Grindel, but our programs are non-refundable, and the contract we sent you, which you signed here, is still binding. I’m going to have to ask you to stay for the entire camp–don’t worry, after a few days, you’ll understand how much you need the Fat Action Team,” the chubby, suited man behind the information table said, and waved the large man in line behind Leon forward to the registration table.

Leon backed up, but ran right into the belly of the first orderly and swung around. Leon was by no means small–a few inches over six feet and massive–he’d been building muscle for years, working out in his family’s shed from the first time he’d realized he could make his body look like the ones he’d seen in the muscle magazines he used to flip through on shopping trips with his mom. He’d just gotten his body fat down to seven percent, and he was looking better than he ever had in his life, but he’d really needed a second job, and so he’d jumped at the opportunity to be a counselor at a fat camp, or at least that’s what he’d thought he’d been signing up for. These creeps thought he was supposed to be attending the camp instead of leading it! Still, the man blocking his way was a bit taller than him and hugely fat–probably close to three hundred pounds–but his body was also packed with muscle. At 180 pounds, Leon figured he would have a hard time fighting him, because of the orderlies’ weight advantage.

“Sir, if you could come with us, we’ll show you to your room.”

“No, this is bullshit–I’m leaving,” Leon said, and tried to step around him, but the second orderly stepped up, blocking his path again, and Leon just tried to push his way between them, which ended up being a mistake, as one of the men grabbed him in a big bear hug while the second slipped a metal collar around his neck and sealed it in place in some manner that he couldn’t fathom, when the orderly released him and he tried to figure out how to undo the collar. “What the fuck is this?” he shouted, “I’m calling the police.”

The first orderly raised his wrist, where a small metal bracelet was clasped, and spoke into it, “Subject 436, follow us to your room.”

Leon didn’t really know how to describe what happened next, other than he found himself compelled to walk after the men down the hallways of the massive complex, which seemed to be more of a science facility than a fat camp. In fact, as the walked down numerous hallways, he passed by several open doors that led into white, sterile research labs of some sort, and he felt a pang of fear that he couldn’t quite describe. What in the world had he gotten himself into? Still, he protested loudly making sure everyone in earshot knew he was there against his will, and asked the people he passed to help him, but none of the doctors–all of them male, and all of them overweight, bothered to even look up from their clipboards as Leon passed them.

Finally after what had seemed like ages of seamless hallways–Leon didn’t even think he would be able to find his way back out if the collar would let him try and escape, which he figured it probably wouldn’t. The orderlies eventually stopped in front of a door and it slid open, the first speaking into his bracelet again, “Subject 436, enter your room and remain inside of it until you are collected for your first session tomorrow morning. Do not try to escape.”

Leon entered the room, and the door slid closed behind him, melding almost seamlessly with the white wall, but he couldn’t even look for some way to open it back up–the collar wouldn’t let the thought of getting out translate into any sort of action. Instead, he sat down on the bunk bed–the only furniture in the room besides a single toilet with no privacy screen–reminding him more of a prison cell that anything else, and tried desperately to get the collar off of his neck. Still, he couldn’t find a seam anywhere–if felt like one perfectly round circle of metal, and every time he tried to get a grip on it, it felt like the metal actually contracted around his neck, threatening to choke him if he kept at it. Unable to get the collar off, and unable to explore the room far before finding himself restrained by the order to not escape, he used the toilet and then laid down on the bed, trying to sleep, but the light permeated the room, and the terror and confusion he was feeling refused to leave him. When the door finally slid open, he honestly thought for a moment that it might be morning, but then a massively fat man smoking a cigar stepped into the room, looked over at Leon and smiled, “Hi! You must be my roommate, the name’s Max.”

Leon wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this development–he thought about the possibility that he’d get a roommate given the bunk bed, but he’d expected it to be someone like him, muscular and also there under duress, but Max didn’t even have a collar, and he looked relaxed and unworried about what was happening. “Ok, what’s the fucking deal with this? Did they give you a collar, or what?”

“A collar?” Max asked, not quite understanding what Leon was talking about until he saw the metal around Leon’s neck, and then he rolled his eyes, “Oh, I got put with a newbie–now I get it.”

“A newbie? You mean you’ve done this before?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve been a FAT member for about a year now,” Max said, and gave his huge, fat belly a hard slap, “Looking good, right?”

“Wait, you’ve been a member for a year, and you look like this?”

“Trust me, it’s taken a lot of work.”

Leon wondered how big Max must have been to begin with, if this three or four hundred pound frame was an improvement. “Well…keep working at it, I guess…” he said, and then added, “So wait, none of this seems strange to you? You actually want to be here?”

“Trust me, I know how it is when you attend your first event–I’m surprised they have any newbies here actually–I thought this retreat was by invitation only.”

“Well, I thought I was going to be hired as a counselor in an experimental training program–” Leon stared to say, and then Max laughed, “What?”

“Oh, just the thought of someone looking like you being a counselor–dang, you’re a bit delusional.”

“You’re the fucking delusional one!” Leon said, “They put this collar on me, and they’re fucking controlling me somehow! What the fuck is going on–what do you know that I don’t?”

Max took a drag off his cigar and just shook his head, “Fucking newbies.” Just then, a voice came on over the loudspeaker, in the room, and announced that lights out would commence in half an hour. “Guess we might as well get ready for bed then, eh?” Max added, “How about you take the top bunk–I doubt I could even get up there.”

Leon was still utterly confused by what was going on, but he agreed, and climbed up onto the top bunk, wondering what the hell was going to happen to him. His worry was interrupted by a loud grunt from Max, and he realized the big man was on the toilet, shitting, and he tried not to think about it, and before too long there was a five minute warning for lights out, and a few minutes later, they were plunged into darkness.

Leon still couldn’t sleep at all–and the fact that Max snored loud enough to wake the dead didn’t help. He must have laid awake for hours, and the lights in the room were still out when the door to the room slid open silently–Leon wouldn’t have even noticed if not for the sudden rectangle of light that appeared on the floor, and he got down quickly out of bed–still in only his underwear, and peeked around the corner, before leaving the room and walking quickly down the unattended hallway in the direction he hoped the exit was.

However, he’d taken a few steps when he realized he wasn’t walking of his own volition–his feet were moving for him, just like they had with the orderlies, and he realized that he wasn’t escaping at all–he was going somewhere. Somehow his feet knew where to go, and they walked deeper into the complex before finally arriving at a staffed lab, and he walked in, finding a couple of doctors in labcoats looking at some computer monitors. “Sir, the subject is here,” one of them said, and a fatter doctor with a bushy white beard, looked over at Leon and smiled, “Ah, Subject 436, welcome. I’m glad you found us alright.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Well, that’s true, but still, in a day or two we won’t need that collar on you at all. Now, subject 436, if you’d be so kind as to follow me, we’ll get you situated.”

It sounded like a kind enough request, but the doctor spoke into a bracelet identical to the one the orderly had used, compelling Leon to follow him into the middle of the lab, where he found himself strapped to some sort of cross shaped like an “X” with a series of plastic straps. After he was situated, the doctor took some scissors and cut away his underwear, leaving him completely naked, and then the doctor secured some sort of mask over his nose and mouth, which fed had a tube connected to a series of massive metal tanks of some sort of gas against one wall of the lab.

“Alright,” the doctor said, “Are we recording? We know we don’t want this to be like the last trial–no recording means fewer subscriptions. We want the full narrative on this one.We’re good?”

“Yes sir, all cameras are recording.”

“Good. Then lets begin the administration of gas batch #36.”

Leon watched as the clear tube filled with some sort of grey-black smoke, drawn down into his mask, but he held his breath for as long as he could, before finally inhaling as shallowly as he could. The smell of it was almost sickly sweet but with a strange burnt tinge, like caramel that had gone a bit too long on the stove. Still, it didn’t smell harmful, and he didn’t really have much choice after the doctor ordered him to simply breathe normally. He did for a few minutes, and as he did, he began to feel a strange tingling sensation all over his body. At first he thought it was just the discomfort from being strapped in such a strange position, but the tingling changed into something else strange, almost like a bubbling underneath his skin. He could still move his neck, and he looked down at his belly and nearly threw up–it looked almost like there were worms crawling beneath his skin, slowly squirming over his muscle, but as soon as they settled, they seemed to sag and dissolve away, and yet, after an hour of fascinated watching, he realized that the worms were something else–it was fat. Already, his six pack had become barely a two pack, the rest of it obscured by the beginnings of a paunch, and the rest of him was putting on weight as well. He tried fighting and struggling, but orders from the doctor to remain calm and not struggle had more power than his growing panic. What sort of experiment had he volunteered for exactly?

“Alright subject 436, we have a baseline, and it looks like you’re accepting batch #36 as we’d expected. Now, it’s time for your first round of conditioning,” the doctor said. He brought over a set of goggles which he fastened over Leon’s eyes, blocking out all of the light, and the a set of heavy headphones which shut out all of the sound from the room around him. He struggled for a second, trying to dislodge one or the other, but a few seconds later, the screen inside the goggles leapt to life with a massive swirl of bright color, too dazzling for him to keep his eyes open, and yet he couldn’t blink. In fact, he couldn’t do anything–his body had gone completely relaxed, and in his mind, he fought back as hard as he could, trying to regain control, but even that was becoming difficult. It was so much easier just to let himself be sucked in, just let himself be washed away. He could hear something as well, someone saying something, but he didn’t know what. It didn’t matter, he just needed to listen and watch and obey, always obey.

Time disappeared for him. It could have been a minute, or hours, or days even, in front of that screen. Eventually, the lights faded away, leaving him with a bright afterimage in the darkness of the goggles, the silence of the headphones lifted as the scientist removed them, and then the goggles, and when Leon saw him standing in front of him, his heart immediately leapt up into his throat. This massively fat man in a lab coat, the man who had so disgusted him when the goggles had gone on, was now…so amazingly sexy. Leon had a hard on before he could even try to control himself, and looking down, he quickly realized that he could barely see his cock. The two pack he’d sported when the goggles went on had grown substantially, and now could only be called a gut, and it looked damn good on him, didn’t it?

Leon shook his head, trying to fight off these feelings. He didn’t want to be fat–he was terrified of being fat! But then why in the hell did it feel so damn good? He was starting to hyperventilate, breathing in even more of the sweet gas from the mask, and the doctor came around into view again, now completely naked, and said, “Subject 436, why don’t you go ahead and calm down. Now, I’m going to go ahead and see how the conditioning worked for you. Just enjoy yourself.”

The doctor came close, his huge apron rubbing up against Leon’s much smaller gut, and he groaned, unable to help himself. The older man kneaded his softening pecs and twisted his nipples, and all Leon could do was mumble through the mask, begging him to stop, but his cock was so hard, and this man was so fucking sexy, why would he want him to stop, really? The doctor leaned in and licked and nibbled at the fat willing in under Leon’s chin and around his neck, pulling harder on his nipples, before one hand reached down and started stroking his rock hard cock, getting it slick with precum. He hefted up his apron with one hand and guided Leon’s cock underneath. The doctor’s fat pat was massive, and it swallowed Leon’s cock nearly to the hilt, and he rammed his huge body up against Leon, over and over, their cock head’s ramming into each other deep in the doctor’s fat, and after a few slams, Leon felt his cock shoot filling up the doctor’s fat pad, and the doctor came a few moments after, panting from the exertion, and he stepped back, cum dripping onto the floor between his feet. “Assistant, clean me up please,” the doctor said, and his cub hurried over, getting down on his knees and burying his face under the doctor’s apron, lapping up all of the cum there, before cleaning the tile floor as well.

“Well, that was a great response from just one conditioning set–most guys need three or four before they respond that well–subject 436, I must say that you’re quite the natural at this. I have a feeling you’re going to have a very successful retreat if you keep this up. Now, how about a few more rounds of conditioning? We’re going to have you loving fat and nothing else by the time you’re finished here, just you wait.”

Leon tried to fight off the doctor as he put the goggles and headphones on Leon again, but the lights returned like an old, comforting friend in a time of need, and Leon was more than happy to fall into them again. It was better than watching himself grow fatter, wasn’t it? Still, he would be so beautiful by the end of it, he couldn’t wait to see.

When their new neighbors invited Leif and his son, Mac over for dinner, they didn’t realize that the two older men’s cum would be on the menu. However, it didn’t take long for the spell the two older bears cast on them to deprive them both of their free will, and as they sucked their new master’s off in the kitchen, the two bears congratulated each other.

“See, I fuckin’ told you it would work! Damn, this boy’s mouth is fuckin’ hot as fuck–gonna love havin’ you as my new boy.”

“Fuck yeah–this old fuck though, what are we gonna do with him?”

“I already got a buyer–and he wants him untrained, which makes it even better. Said he would be coming by tonight.”

Sure enough, a couple of hours later there was a knock on the door, and the older, leather clad master came in, took a look at Leif, and dragged him out the door by the metal collar he shackled around his neck, before he could even say goodbye to his son–not that Mac was paying attention. He was too focused on pleasing his new dads–in fact, he already forgotten about his old one entirely by the time the night was through. From that moment on, he was his dad’s sexy rubbercub, ready for a load of cum or piss at any moment, but there was nothing he loved more than getting plowed by his dads from both ends.

Lief on the other hand, didn’t have as nice of a training session. He still remembered everything, and his master–an older man whose real name he never had the chance to learn, beat him mercilessly, training him into a sniveling old boot licker who he’d drag to the clubs, where Lief would be fisted for hours on end, and he would, on occasion, see his son there too, watching him from a far, growing up with his two dads into a chubby bear slut, and the desire for vengeance burned it’s way through him. Still, he would never be able to get to him, would he? Unless he managed to get his hands on some magic of his own, of course…

I was his big brother! What, was I supposed to say no? I’d been collecting second hand weight room equipment for a while, and I was getting pretty big, and my brother wanted to lift weights with me. It seemed easy enough, except he was better at it than me. Fuck, what the hell–I was supposed to be the big brother here, and before I know it, he’s posting selfies to every fuckin’ girl in school, flexing in the mirror in his fucking waders. Look, it would have been ok I think if he’d just left it at that, but then he fucked Amanda, and I mean, we’d been off ‘n on forever! No brother fucks his brother’s girl, and then brags about it. So yeah, I wasn’t happy.

So yeah, it wasn’t nice, still, the spell fucking worked, didn’t it? Guy can’t pry himself away from the fridge long enough to work out…or do anything much at all. Should have seen him beg me those first few days, listen to him tell me he’d make it all better, he’d never do anything like that again, and I, well, I had a change of heart, I admit it. Unfortunately, the gypsy who’d put the spell on him had a definite no refund policy, and when I got in her face, she fucking cursed me too.

She made me his fucking feeder! I can’t stop cookin’ all day long for him, watching him eat. That gut he’s growing is so damn sexy though, fuck, I love climbing up on his lap, grinding my cock into his belly button while he eats, and of course, whenever he finishes a meal I give him a blow job or fuck his fat, piggy ass to keep him happy. Everything was good too, until I finally let slip what I’d done.

To say that he was pissed, well, that was a fuckin’ understatement, and before I could stop him, he’d gotten into my truck and driven off to meet with the gypsy himself. Man, I don’t know what the hell she did, but as soon as he got back, I looked at him in a whole new way. I mean, he’d always been sexy, but now he was like a fucking god. He walked in the room, and I fell to my knees in front of him, face buried in his gut, begging him to make me his slave.

Thankfully he said yes–I don’t know what he would have done otherwise. So everything worked out well in the end, right? I get to worship and wait on my obese brother all day long, feeding that huge belly of his, and he gets to fuck both my holes whenever he wants. He’s my little brother right? What else would a guy have done?

There probably wasn’t much of a reason for Tate to still be in the closet. After all, other guys on the police force had come out before, and after some mild ribbing from the other guys in the locker room, everything had settled out back to normal, but as far as Tate was concerned, it wasn’t any of their business. Besides, he kind of liked acting straight–it was fun shooting the shit about pussy with the guys, even if he’d managed to hang onto his gold star after all these years.

Unfortunately, he ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. A gay club Tate liked to frequent for anonymous hookups had just been placed under new management–and the new owners had decided to liven the place up a bit. the gas bombs went off unexpectedly, and they went off everywhere, including in the bathroom where Tate was having a piss, watching some twink look at his uniform–and his boots.

Needless to say, after getting a good lungful of the gas, he’d hightailed it out of there along with everyone else, but ever since then, well, things had been anything but normal. It started out small–with this obsessive need to shine his boots every morning before heading into work, but before long things had gotten out of control. Every space he could fit them, he’d stuck boots he’d found–some he’d bought online, others used, hell, some he’d stolen from other guys on the force, just so he could sniff their foot stink and shine their boots, because no one could get a good enough shine for his satisfaction.

The cigar smoking, hell, that had just been a way to calm himself down. When he got too crazy, a good cigar and a beer or two could keep him calm, help him resist, but soon they’d built up into their own obsession. And then the leather–he couldn’t wear cotton, hell, anything but leather these days. It fucking burnt his skin for some reason. And he had to jack off almost constantly, usually while licking his boots, and then he’d lick up his cum too, but really, that shouldn’t be his job…right?

A week after the gas attack, he was back at the club. He’d quit the force, he had more important things to worry about, like keeping his boots shiny. Yeah, these slaves, their spit got them so damn clean, and watching them squirm under his sole, fuck, nothing got him off like the sight of that. In fact, he didn’t even really need to leave the club, did he? No, there was nothing outside for him any longer, this was his life now, and he couldn’t be happier.

The summer was sweltering, and Jordan was definitely thankful for having a pool out back that he could jump in at anytime he felt like. He’d wake up late, after his parents had already left for work, throw on his swim trunks and after a quick protein shake for breakfast, he’d be out back in the pool.

However, if Jordan had bothered to turn on the TV this morning, he would have found out that a chemical company had accidentally dumped an unknown, untested chemical into the river the night before, polluting the entire neighborhood’s water supply, his pool included. That said, when Jordan stepped out onto the patio, he definitely knew something was up, because the usually clear water was instead a vibrant green.

Still, Jordan wasn’t about to let something like that deter him from his daily pool, and the day was heating up quick. It didn’t smell bad after all, and it even tasted normal. With a shrug, he dove in, swam a couple of laps before his skin started to tingle and he was starting to struggle in the water for some reason. Figuring he should probably get out, he maneuvered over to a side ladder and tried, unsuccessfully, to heft himself up out of the pool.

He just felt so weak all of a sudden, and like his body weighed a whole lot more than it should have. He gave it another try, eyes shut in concentration, and managed to heft himself up the ladder and onto the side of the pool, huffing hard, when he looked down at himself in disbelief. What in the hell had the water done to him? He’d packed on close to a hundred pounds, and his body was covered with hair. His swim trunks were nowhere to be seen; he must have burst out of them in the water without even noticing. Still coated in the water, he rushed inside to get a better look at himself in a mirror, but by the time he’d gotten to the one in the hall, he saw that the changes had progressed even further. The hair on his head was entirely gone, and the beard which had sprouted across his face was now not only several inches long, but nearly entirely white. His gut was now hanging even lower, and the rest of his body was filling out, making it hard for him to walk, and the hair on his skin was so dense he could barely see his skin.

Realizing that he was still coated in the strange water, he waddled back out and dried himself off with a towel, but the damage was done. Weighing in at over 600 pounds, inch long hairs coating his entire body, aged to look nearly seventy years old, Jordan discovered one last side effect of the water–his balls. They had swelled up to nearly four times the size, eclipsing the cock he could no longer reach imbedded in his fat, and unable to help himself, he spent the rest of the day fucking his fat pad, shooting load after load of cum, sobbing and unable to control himself, until his parents got home from work and took him to the hospital.

Needless to say, Jordan received a sizeable settlement from the chemical company, but the changes were irreversible. One silver lining was that, even though Jordan looked to be seventy, he was still as healthy as he’d been in his late teens, and the fat he’d gained appeared to have no health dangers–though he never managed to lose a pound of it. Instead, he resigned himself to a life as a rich, obese old pervert, jacking off nearly constantly–but he never went into a pool again.

Officer Daniels had had a long day, and all he really wanted to do when he got home was relax in front of the TV and forget about all of the bullshit he’d just had to deal with down at the station. A drug ring kingpin that he’d helped bring down looked like he was going to get off on a technicality because Daniels had conducted an improper interview, and the entire brass was holding his feet to the fire. If he was unlucky, he might end up with internal affairs breathing down his neck or worse. The worst part was that he couldn’t seem to remember the interview much at all, so he’d had a hard time trying to muster any kind of defense.

He let himself into his apartment and was surprised to find a small, gift wrapped box on the floor right in the entryway. Who in the hell had been in his apartment? Still in his uniform, he stooped down and picked up the box, unwrapped it, and found it contained a small jewel case with a DVD labeled “Watch me.” Curious, and a bit angry that someone had been in his apartment, he put the DVD in his player and started the disc.

He gave a start when the film started, and he found himself looking at a burly guy laying on his stomach, arms and legs bound with leather straps, wearing what looked to be a diaper, and then two masked men entered the scene, and he nearly shouted in fear. They rolled the man over, and he found himself looking at himself, eyes dazed, his mouth stuffed with some sort of cloth, and he was moaning in what sounded like…pleasure.

One of the men pulled the cloth out, and he saw it was a sweaty, cumstained jockstrap, and the other smiled down at him. “How’s Baby Daniels today? Have you been a good boy? Did you wet your diaper for me like a good boy? You like being a good boy for daddy, right?”

“Yes daddy, I like being a good boy…” Daniels said, both in the video and in his apartment, and he was distantly aware of a spreading warmth in his uniform pants as he pissed himself, unable to take his eyes away as the men checked to make sure his diaper was wet, and then rewarded him with two cocks to suck. Both men shot their loads on his face, and he licked up as much as he could, smiling wide. Then, one of the men started massaging the front of his diaper, and said, “Alright Baby Daniels, it’s time for baby to cum!”

In his apartment, Officer Daniels gave a loud groan as he filled the front of his pants with cum, feeling it join the piss there, and the screen finally went black with some words on it.

Be a good boy, and this video will never see the light of day. Back off.

Before Daniels could react, someone slammed something into the back of his head, crumpling him to the floor, and the man ripped down his pants and rammed his cock into the cop’s ass. All Daniels could do was beg for the man to fuck him harder, and in a minute, after the man came, he stood up, zipped his fly, and left Daniels’ apartment, leaving the officer to wonder what in the world he’d gotten himself into, and whether it really would be over after the investigation was dead.

Pig woke with a start, and tried to roll up, but found himself constrained in his own steel cage. “What the fuck!” he shouted, but the words were muffled by something stuck over his mouth, some sort of mask which was tied behind his head. He tried to rip it off, but before he could, his visitor had stepped in front of him, and with a wave of his hand, froze Pig in place.

“Calm down. Don’t remove your gear. Obey my commands,” he said, and with a second wave Pig was free to move again, but he couldn’t even touch his face now.

“What the fuck is this, what are you doing?” he said.

“Well, you see, I do love a good pig fuck, but you…well, you just aren’t pig enough for me yet. Still, we’re going to fix that, don’t you worry, just few final touches…” he said, and with a wave of energy a circle of candles sprung to life around the cage, and the man began to chant in some sort of language Pig neither recognized or liked to hear.

Still, he managed to look at the little bit of clothing he still had on–some gloves and boots, a chain collar with a padlock and a pink bow around his neck, a round snout like mask and a headband with some floppy ears on them. As the visitor chanted however, he felt the gear start to squirm, and with a searing pain, it all began to adhere to his body. No, not just adhere to his body, his body was changing inside the cage as the chant grew in intensity, the changes racing through him faster than he could even comprehend, all of them painful beyond belief, the words wrapping their way around him, binding themselves to him, and with a final shout it was done, the lights shot sparks, the candles burst into blue flame and extinguished themselves, plunging them both into darkness.

It was tighter in the cage. Pig didn’t fit in it anymore, it felt like the life was being crushed out of him. He heard the door swing open and with a grunt, he tumbled out, heavy and soft, and started crawling away, but he hadn’t gotten very far before small balls of magical light erupted around the room, and he found himself facing himself in a mirror, and he squealed in terror. He wasn’t human anymore, well, not entirely, His face looked more pig than man, and his hands, they had hardened into trotters, the same with his feet, and he was enormously fat…and horny. Horny for his master, horny for master’s cock in his pussy.

“What a beautiful little sow,” the visitor said, walking up behind Pig. Where his balls had been there was now a wet slit, his cock now shriveled into an inch long clit, and the visitor slid several fingers in, feeling the sow start grunting, bucking back, hungry for his cock. “Heh, don’t forget that you’re the one who said no limits.”