Interactive – Transformation Contagion #4

Julian was sitting at his desk, his notebook for his next class–macroeconomics–open in front of him. Ever since he was in high school, he’d made a habit of taking meticulous notes, and studied them several times between class sessions. It added a lot to his reputation as a know-it-all, he knew, but there was nothing wrong with wanting to be intelligent, even if it did make him a bit of a bore. He was 22 and still hadn’t tried anything alcoholic, aside from a glass of wine when his father took him out to dinner on occasion, and he’d certainly never been to a party–they disgusted him.

There was a sharp pain in his ear, suddenly, which made him cringe and cry out. He felt around the lobe with one of his hands, and…and there was some sort of hole in it? Confused, he got up from his desk and walked over to the small, slender mirror hung on the wall in the house, and took a closer look, and sure enough–it was a hole. A piercing, a thick gauge stuck in it, almost an inch in diameter–a stainless steel ring holding the lobe open, and he felt sick to his stomach, looking at it. How had that happened? That was insane, he’d vowed to never do something like that to his body–and then the same sensation, that sharp prick started up all over his body. First, an identical gauge in his other ear, and then a variety of barbells, rings, and studs all across his face in a variety of colors and sizes. He tried to pull them out, but they couldn’t come, no matter what he did, and then something new–a burning itch across his arms, his chest, even down onto his legs.

He unbuttoned his shirt and saw the tattoos through the white undershirt underneath, and he nearly went into hysterics. He peeled the shirt off, however, and the actual designs left him speechless. The word “Skintrash” was written across his chest, and he saw violent, sexual images spiraling up and down his arms, and onto his stomach, and then the worked their way up as well, dark, tribal spirals circling his neck and then climbing up onto his face, weaving between his piercings and then his hair pulled back into his head, until all that remained was a pitch black skinhead mohawk, a two inch strip of short hair with shaved, tattooed scalp on both sides.

He just stared at himself in the mirror for a few moments. A freak–he was a total freak, but the changes didn’t stop there. His pants–the only clothing he had on still, were growing up his body, covering him skintight. He pushed against it, and it was rubber, or latex, or something, and as they pulled tighter, they were turning clear. Before long, a latex skinsuit covered him from wrist to neck to ankle, and he could see all of his changes, the tattoos covering his legs and feet, as well as the riot of piercings in his cock and scrotum, his sack stretched down one leg of the suit several inches beyond natural, and he looked so freakish and so…so sexy.

His mind, what was happening to his mind? It felt like some strange corruption was growing within his skull, and every fact, every piece of manners and decorum it touched was replaced with some sexual fetish, some new obsession, some disgusting habit he hadn’t even known was possible. “Fuck…” he said, “Fuck cock shit ass, fuckin’ A I’m such a fuckin’ hot piece of skintrash meat!” He shouted. one hand groping his pierced cock through the latex, rubbing it while he screamed obscenities at his reflection until he shot a wad of cum in the suit, watching it pool in the air pockets and slowly work it’s way down one of his tattooed legs, and damn if he needed a fuck. Something freaky, something kinky, something…strange.

He leered at himself, and then started pulling on his bleached jeans, held up with narrow red suspenders, over his latex body suit, but decided to skip the shirt–he wanted people to see he was a freak, he wanted people to see it, and be a freak like him, he had so many ideas, so many fetishes, but first, maybe one more load in his suit.

He started massaging his crotch again while Art watched, having already shot himself on the carpet hallway, and exhausted, he went over to a window at the end of the hall, and smiled to himself. These glasses were amazing, but he wanted to take a break. He took them off and looked out the window, which he noticed gave him a look directly into his now bearish neighbor’s living room window, where the new bear was fucking the daylights out of his son…his son who was now…a cub? Art just stared at him. He hadn’t changed his son, what was going on? Art, however, was about to discover exactly what was happening, when he spun around and found one of the changed roommates eyeing him down the hallway.

~~~

1. Is it Eric and Charles? The daddy and son would probably love a more elderly addition to their family.

2. Is it Trent? He’s pretty thirsty for cum and a good fuck, but I doubt Art is ready to become the top Trent wants.

3. Is it Julian? He seems to have some pretty kinky interests, and Art would probably end up heavily modded and with a few other kinks.

If you have a particular suggestion for Art’s change, feel free to mention it along with your preferred number. What do you all want to see?

Interactive – Transformation Contagion #3

Trent was in his room, watching one of his favorite pornos before he had to go to football practice in the afternoon–he was planning on just rubbing one off real quick, but he’d been at it for a few minutes now with no luck. Something was missing, something…just wasn’t letting him cum for some reason, and he couldn’t figure it out. Looking over, he noticed the door to his bedroom was open, when he was sure he’d closed it earlier. Still, the idea of being discovered masturbating was…kind of hot. And maybe one of his roommates would let him…let him suck their cocks, or fuck his ass.

He let out a groan, and he started swelling in his chair, his pecs ballooning, abs growing increasingly ridged, his delts swallowing his neck as his thighs swelled into huge trunks. His somewhat pale skin took on a nice tan–the window on his computer shifted suddenly to his live cam show, and he started jacking off to the camera, watching men flood into his room, urging him onward. He wanted them all–their cocks in his mouth and ass, he wanted to drink their cum.

He reached over and grabbed his favorite dildo–eleven inches and thick as a beer can–and started working it in and out of his ass while he twiddled his three inch cock for the men to see. They loved how a masculine man like him could also be a total bottom, and the fact that he was a first string linebacker for a college football team just drove them wild. The cam sessions in his uniforms were always the most popular, and as he fucked himself, he swelled even further, until he was nearly six and a half feet tall and 275 pounds of muscle.

His body remained somewhat hairy, but what he did have accentuated his body, rather than distracted from it. As he fucked himself, now moaning loudly, what little intellect Trent had started to fade. All that mattered to him, before long, was twofold. First, having as many men’s eyes on him as possible–if their attention wasn’t on him, then something was wrong. And second, how to get as many men currently looking at him to either fuck or fist his meaty hole, or else feed him their delicious cum. Trent licked his lips and drooled a bit, thinking about his favorite food. And for some reason, after he drank it, he always seemed to get bigger–and stupider. He finally shot a load all over his keyboard and licked it clean, before staring hard at the clock on his computer screen. He was late for something…but what? Oh well, he could put on another show–maybe then he’d stop being too horny to think. Maybe.

Art shot his own load as he watched Trent–the massive beast of a bottom he now was–lick his own off his computer, and figured he’d have to get the web address of his cam show. He didn’t want to miss a single load blown by the massive slut. Still, one more roommate remained, just a short way down the hall. It was Julian–the smart one, and the rich one. He was in the middle of looking over his notes for his next class, and Art sneered–Julian had just a bit too much going for him. Maybe it was time to knock him down a social peg or two–and get Art’s rocks off in the process. What does he choose?

~~~~

1. Make him a heavily modded punk, covered with lewd tattoos and extreme piercings, unable to speak without swearing. Everyone he encounters will pick up some of Julian’s mods, and some extreme sexual fetishes to boot, especially pain play and bondage.

2. Make him a middle aged, slobbish chronic masturbator, uninterested in anything beyond jacking off. Everyone he encounters will find their ambition and drive greatly diminished, leaving them only interested in sex. WARNING–Might get messy, but probably not.

3. Make him a burly, dumb redneck with a southern accent who chews tobacco. Everyone he runs into will be in for some sort of culture shock, usually turning into a perverse biker, trucker or redneck like the new Julian.

What’s your choice?

Identity Crises (Part 3)

***WARNING*** This one is even filthier than the last. If heavy scat or castration bother you, turn away.

He opened the door, and as soon as he did, he realized that he shouldn’t have. The reality wave which pushed it’s way out and over him–it was different than the others had been. More forceful, and far less wiggle room. The others seemed to have melded around him–but this one…this one simply forced its will on him, pressed down on him, contorting him and his mind until he nosed his way into the room, crawling on all fours, feeling his belly scraping across the floor underneath him as he let out a snort, and saw his master across the room.

Master–he loved him. There was no question in his mind, no doubt–just universal adoration when he looked at the ten foot tall man, naked–his body covered with grimy fur, his beard reaching his belly button, muscular and handsome and…and everything that Terry–no, not Terry, his name wasn’t Terry anymore, he was Porky, Porky was the name Master had given him, back when he’d finally enslaved him, back when his son had taken him and declared ownership of him, like Porky had always known he would.

“Get over here pig,” Caleb growled, and Porky crawled over, eager to serve, and when he came up next to him, Caleb simply said “Open,” and Porky obeyed. Opening his mouth, and allowing his master to tap the ash from his cigar into his mouth, Porky doing his best to not think about the heat of it, and just swallow it down like he’d learned. He was his Master’s preferred ashtray after all–he’d been doing it for years now, and he stayed there, mouth open while his Master surfed the internet, and all Porky could do was admire him.

Porky hadn’t always been Proky–he had been Terry once upon a time. And Master had been Caleb, his son, but Terry had always been afraid of him. His son wasn’t like him–Terry had been weak, but his son was strong and powerful, far bigger and mannlier than Terry could have ever hoped to be. He remembered all those long nights, when he couldn’t sleep because he could smell his son in his bedroom, how he’d jacked off, over and over, imaging his massive boy dominating and fucking him–enslaving him. Years ago, Terry had finally worked up the gall to ask. He’d crawled over to his son, and begged–begged for the privilege of serving him, and Caleb had agreed. He wasn’t Caleb’s father anymore–he was Porky, his pigslave. And Caleb wasn’t his son–he was only his master–all he’d ever wanted. He took another mouthful of ash and swallowed it back, taking a sniff of his son’s musk, of his shitty ass. He wondered if it needed cleaning–Porky would clean it for him. He loved cleaning out his son’s ass and eating his shit and drinking his piss and eating his cum.

That was why Caleb had made him a pig, instead of a slave. See, he’d known all about his father’s filthy interests. He’d left the toilet unflushed on occasion, just so he could listen as his father used to drink his son’s reeking piss from the bowl or eat the turds he’d left behind. He’d made sure to stash his cum soaked jockstraps for his father’s pleasure. Of course, his pigslave hadn’t felt any pleasure in a long time. He’d had his one inch cock locked up long ago–but he didn’t need to cum. In fact, he couldn’t cum–his Master had taken his balls away after five years–now, his scrotum had two half pound steel weights in it, which had successfully stretched it to the ground. That is, if he hadn’t been wearing his diaper. He’d been fucked so much my his master’s massive cock that he couldn’t close his ass anymore–and Master hated it when Porky made a mess in the house.

“Clean my foreskin, Porky,” Caleb said, and with a happy grunt, the pig worked his way under the massive desk his son had had custom made for his massive physique, and started licking under the massive foreskin his son’s foot and a half long cock had shrouding it’s head. The cheese was thick and reeked, but Porky wouldn’t have it any other way, and he snorted and squealed softly in appreciation. He was almost done with it, when Porky heard a loud fart erupt from his ass, and shit started packing its way into the back of his diaper, and he was surprised for a moment…but why surprise? He was used to shitting his diaper by now, why would he be surprised at all? And yet, part of him felt like he’d never done it before in his life, and that everything about this situation was just wrong–but how? This is what he wanted, what his master wanted. Everything was perfect…right?

One of his Master’s big feet curved around to the back of Porky’s diaper and started rubbing up and down the padded bottom, and the pig felt the shit start spreading up and down his crack and around to his caged cock, and he hoped his Master was getting horny. He’d really like to get fucked–he needed a good fuck really bad, but he knew better than to ask for one. That wasn’t what pigs did. Pigs did what their Master’s said, no matter what. They were ready whenever their Master’s wanted them to be. Still, he kept cleaning out his Master’s foreskin, and it was starting to harden–he let himself get a little hopeful.

“Pig,” Caleb said after a few minutes, “Get out of there–that nasty shit stink of yours is getting me all horny.”

Porky couldn’t crawl out of there fast enough, as as soon as he did, his massive Master stood up and ripped the diaper off of him, revealing the pig’s shitty crack and he let out a little groan, got down and worked his massive cock deep into his pig’s ass.

It had taken Porky years to feel anything beyond pain when his master fucked him, but now he was finally used to it, and took the entire shaft up to it’s ass. He could smell his shit now, and he was hungry. Thankfully, his master pushed his diaper under his belly, smearing shit all over it, before it ended up under Porky’s face, and he started licking the diaper clean, grunting and snorting the entire time as his master abused his hole.

“I have a feeling this is gonna get messy,” his Master said, “I think we’d better take this down to the basement.”

Porky felt his Master wrap his arms around his massive gut, and hefted him up off the ground, shocking Porky. He weighed close to 600 pounds now, and his Master was so strong he could pick up with no real effort. What a wonderful master he had! He was so lucky that he could serve him as his pig. With his entire cock buried up Porky’s ass, Caleb left his room and started heading downstairs, and Porky witnessed something…strange. The waves of reality he’d felt…whenever they turned a corner, he could watch them sweep out from where they were, changing the entire house as his Master moved through the house, like reality kept shifting and adjusting to his very whim. It was awe inspiring–he’d had no idea that his master was capable of something like that…and yet…

Something clicked in Porky’s head, and he realized now that this had happened to him before–not this, not being carted around on his Master’s massive cock, but he’d…changed, before. Reality had changed before, and…and Master was the cause of it? But then…maybe things shouldn’t be like this…but why shouldn’t they? He was happy, serving his Master. His Master as happy with him as his pig–why should things be different? How could things be different?

His concern was derailed as they started walking down the steps into the basement, and Porky watched the workbench and tools shift and change into a massive complex–a fully equipped sex dungeon, complete with a cage where Porky lived when his Master didn’t need him. As they walked down the stairs, the pig suddenly noticed a warmth in his ass–but it wasn’t his master cumming, was it? No, there was too much of it–he was pissing in him, filling him up with his piss, and it felt wonderful.It was no surprise then, when his Master headed for the tub–he was apparently in a dirty kind of mood. Porky loved it when his Master was feeling dirty–because Porky was always eager for filth. He was a pig after all.

Caleb hefted his pig over the side of the massive tub–a massive, converted hot tub which had had it’s drain permanently plugged with cement, and there, standing in the middle of the tub, he grabbed his pig’s meaty love handles and started fucking him up and down on his massive cock, feeling his piss run down his shaft as he fucked him, then down his hairy legs where it pooled around his feet. He shifted Porky’s angle, and started thrusting again, and the pig let out a sudden grunt as his master pummeled it’s bladder with his massive cock, and he started to piss uncontrollably, feeling it soak the underside of it’s belly, before running down it’s scrotum, which swung to and fro as his Master fucked him, and between both of their streams, the two of them managed to fill the tub up a couple of inches before they ran dry. Now though, Caleb didn’t care–the stench filling the basement was driving him to new heights of horniness, and he was fucking his pig up and down on his cock as hard as he could sweating from the exertion, Porky simply biting it’s lip and hanging on as best he could, until with a roar, he came, the massive amount of cum from his huge balls flowing out almost immediately from Porky’s entirely loose hole and joining the piss and shit already pooling in the tub, and then Caleb finally set Porky down in the tub, who immediately shoved it’s face into the messy pool, drinking up as much as he could.

Standing over him, his Master just watched the pig debase itself, and then he did something that Porky did not expect–he stepped out of the pool, shook his head, said, “No–no this is…just, not this,” and then stomped his way back up the stairs, slamming the basement door behind him. Porky didn’t know what to think for a moment, but then he realized he must have done something wrong–but what? What could be have done wrong? He’d been a perfectly good slave today…hadn’t he? Besides that time in the bathroom, when…when he’d…

When he’d told his Master no to to fuck him? No, he wouldn’t never do that, he could never do that, it just wasn’t in him. He was too weak, too small, too much of a desperate sub to ever say no to a man as big and powerful and important as his master. But he was shivering in the tub–he could clearly remember doing it, but…but how could he have? He’d been serving his master all day, like usual–they hadn’t even been in the bathroom downstairs, had they? The room was starting to spin, and it felt like…like Proky could start to see little tears happening all around the room, little tears in reality, like the walls and floor were shaking and vibrating to pieces, and he shut his eyes but the cracks were still there.

“No…No, I love my master, I obey my master, I obey, I obey, I obey, I obey…” Porky said, crouched down in the scummy tub, eyes clenched shut, repeating his mantra, and he felt the world start…healing itself again. He couldn’t even tell if it was the world which had been cracking…or just his mind. It was so disconcerting. In the end, he clambered out of the tub and crawled over to his cage, shutting the door behind him, and in the cramped, confined space he’d come to know as his home, he felt a bit more comfortable and sure of himself. Still, he didn’t move, and just stayed there, knowing he’d already broken the unspoken rule when he’d climbed out of the tub, but hopefully his master wouldn’t be too angry, not like that other time…that other…place.

Now that he was calm, he carefully started working through his head, finding other memories that just didn’t…fit. How his daddy had smoked his cock to a nub while he’d ridden his big cock. How he’d made his son a massive dinner, how they’d fucked…it didn’t make any sense, but as soon as he sensed the cracks starting to open again, he shut them all away, and just stayed in the present. The past didn’t matter–it wasn’t important. He just had to focus on being the best pig he could be, and the rest would be ok. His master would make sure of it. Everything would be ok. Now, all he had to do was wait.

His master didn’t keep him waiting too much longer–he heard a door upstairs open and close, and then…as he came downstairs, he could see the walls and ceiling…bulging out, as though reality were pulsating around him, and there were those cracks again, and Porky shut his eyes as tightly as he could, until he heard the basement door open, and then the pressure was all around him again, reality twisting and yanking and contorting him, and this time, it really was painful, like he was a piece of dough that had been kneaded so far as to become nearly inelastic, but it refused to stop. When it finally came to a stop, he was gasping for air around his thick cigar, and started taking a few deep puffs, the tobacco helping him calm down, as he tried to process what had just happened to him.

“Hey daddy bear,” his son’s voice called out from the top of the stairs, “What are you doin’ down here all alone in the dark?”

Terry felt his cock stir, and he adjusted his monstrous tool in the crotch of his pants, and looked up the stairs to where his massive son stood. God, was he even bigger than before? How was that even possible? His head struggled for context, as his eleven foot tall son thumped down the metal staircase Terry had had to put in years earlier, after his son had broken the wooden one that the house had had before…or still had…or…something. He felt like he needed to vomit–hadn’t there been…a tub here? Or had he just imagined it? The basement was equipped with every sort of dungeon tool he and his son had been able to purchase, but never a tub–why hadn’t he thought of that? Damn, that would be hot, the two of them filling it up with their piss and then wallowing in it, fuck…hadn’t they just…just done that?

“What’s up Dad?” Caleb said, “You alright?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine, I just…feel really strange is all.”

“Well, I bet I know what could make you feel better,” Caleb said, slipped his hands under his dad’s arms and then lifted him up into the air. The sense of powerlessness, of being lifted up by his Master–no, not master, his son, always his son, they’d always been equals…well, sure, they’d played some scenarios before, but nothing serious–

He groaned as Caleb ripped open the crotch of just old jeans with his teeth and swallowed his entire foot long cock in one go, resting his dad on the crest of his gut as he sucked him off. God, how had he, at all of five feet, managed to help conceive such a monsterous man? Not that he was complaining of course, but for some reason…none of this seemed possible, nothing seemed right–

With a twist of vertigo, Terry lost his balance and slipped off his son’s gut landing hard on the floor, his head slamming into the concrete, and he rubbed his head, checking for blood, but there wasn’t any, thankfully.

“Fuck–Dad, are you alright?” Caleb said, looming over his father.

“Yeah–yeah, I’m good, I just…just lost my balance is all…I don’t…I don’t think I can…” Terry said, but the vertigo hadn’t let up, and he leaned over and vomited onto the floor. The world, it was starting to rip again like before, and he…he couldn’t take it. He groaned and laid back, trying desperately to hold onto himself as the world threatened to rend apart, but he opened them once quickly, and saw…his son in so many different ways. Fat, old, massive, hairy–he could barely keep track of them all, and then his son had him in his arms, and was rushing up the steps, all the way to his room. He laid his Dad down on his bed, and then sat down at his computer–a specially ordered one for his massive frame–and he started typing, and then, as he finished and hit the return key, another wave rippled out, but this one was entirely different. Instead of trying to bend and twist Terry into some new shape, it felt like it was unfolding him, and as it washed over him, the nausea and vertigo disappeared–but in it’s place can a realization of what had happened over the course of the day…and he screamed.

“Dad! Dad, calm the fuck down dad!” Caleb shouted, pinning Terry down to the bed. They were still in their last forms–all Caleb had done was undo the reality conforming option on the program he’d brought home with him that afternoon, and being twice as tall as his dad, he was able to hold him down easily, not that Terry cared in the least. He kicked and fought anyway, and finally Caleb let him up and he sprinted from the room and into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him, and he slumped back against the wall, just…staring at his hands. His grimy, filthy hands, and his grey beard, and his filthy clothes, and he just started stripping it all off of him in a rush. How many versions of himself had he been today? He couldn’t even keep track of them all in his head–they’d all rushed forward in a massive jumble. Who was he now? Was he actually himself, or was he just some new twisted version his son must have concocted? He stepped out of his pants, naked, and walked in front of his mirrored closet, and nearly sobbed. He…he was disgusting to look at–tattoos and piercings all over his body, missing teeth, and yet looking at himself, his massive cock started to get hard, the footlong cock that stretched down nearly to his knee he was so short, but his gut was so big that he couldn’t even see it when he craned over. He turned away before he could get anymore aroused and do something he might regret, and ran into the bathroom to run a hot shower and get clean.

There was a pounding on his bedroom door, “Dad? Dad, please–we need to talk–I can explain!”

“Stay the fuck away from me, you fucking freak!” Terry shouted, “What the fuck were you thinking! Look at what you fucking did to me!”

“Look, I know…I know I got a bit carried away, alright? I just–”

“A little carried away?” Terry shouted, “A little fucking carried away?” He stalked over to the bedroom door and flung it open, but when he saw his massive son standing there–or rather, when he found himself face to face with his son’s two foot long cock, words failed him utterly, and his anger dissolved into…pure lust. But before he let it overwhelm him, he stepped back in and slammed the door, but he could smell him, he could fucking smell his boy’s nasty funk through the goddamn door and fuck if his son wasn’t the hottest piece of man he’d ever seen!

“Dad…” Caleb said, “Dad, it’s going to be ok!”

“Stay…stay away from me Caleb, please, just change us back, please…” Terry said, but the anger was gone. He was pleading now–desperate, and he heard the knob twist, and the door start to push open, and he tried to push back, but his son was so much…stronger than he was, god, he was so…so proud of him, and from where he was sitting on the floor, looking up at his massive boy, all he wanted to do was fuck him.

“Dad, Look…I…”

Terry couldn’t even see his son’s face past his massive ball gut, but he didn’t care. He stood up, walked over and just started licking the foreskinned head of his cock, unable to resist, digging his tongue under the folds for his son’s delicious cheese, disgusted with what he was doing, but also utterly unable to contemplate doing anything else.

“Dad, you…you don’t…oh…”Caleb said, and groaned, his cock leaking precum which Terry drank down, but the flow was so heavy a good amount of it just dribbled down into his massive beard. “Dad, please…we…we have to…God damn it, that’s fucking enough!” Caleb said, stepped back, grabbed his dad and hefted him up to his eye level. “Dad, can we please just talk about this?”

“Why, son?” Terry said angrily, “You obviously just want me to be a short, nasty old daddy bear desperate for sex with his son, and now that…that I can’t fucking keep my hands off you, you fucking want me to stop? Just…just fuck me, already. Fuck me, and…and fuck, let me drink your piss, and eat…eat your goddamn shit, and–”

Caleb gave him a good shake, and said, “Enough!” Look, I know I fucked up, alright? I get it! I’d put everything back, if I could but…but…well, I kind of messed up the program…”

“What fucking program? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Caleb heaved a sigh, and fell back onto his ass, the house shuddering under his weight, and then he set his dad down on his big gut, and explained the story as best he could. He had been at the mall earlier that day, but he hadn’t been at the mall with friends. He’d been there by himself, just being a loner, when he’d spotted this new curio shop. They’d had a discount electronics section, and the shop owner had recommended this strange program to him. Caleb had thought it was a photo manipulation program–some photoshop knock off–but it had been a bit more…expansive than that. It turned out to be a program which could completely alter the face of reality, and, well, Caleb had let things get a little out of control.

“Look, Dad, all…all I really wanted was for you to be happy again, and I’d always…well, I’d always thought you were hot, so I thought, well…why not?”

Terry just glared at his son, “So you turn me into all of those…those people? For fun? That wasn’t fun, that was a nightmare!”

“I don’t know, you seemed to have enjoyed most of it.”

“Porky was not–fucking–enjoyable.”

Caleb blushed, “Yeah…I…I don’t have an excuse for that one, that one…that was a mistake.”

“No, this whole thing was a mistake. Just…just turn us back, and let’s get rid of it, and we can pretend like none of this ever happened, alright? Let’s just put everything back the way it was.”

Caleb was silent, and hung his head, “I…well, I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“Look, dad, I…I was running the program so that, however I changed myself, reality would automatically adjust itself to conform to me–that’s why, well, you probably have had a strange afternoon. But what I didn’t know, was, well, when you twist reality too much for the people around you, apparently some strange shit can happen. I mean, when we were down in the basement, you started…you flipped out. I mean, not just your screaming and stuff, but your body too. It looked…I don’t know, like it was stretching and collapsing and…and I just got scared. I got scared, so I ran up and turned off the reality adjustment, and that collapsed everything down together, but…well, I was just looking at it, and the program’s locked down.”

“What?”

“It’s locked down. I can’t change reality anymore, until it normalizes. I took a closer look, and apparently the program won’t unlock until it can purge everything from this reality that doesn’t belong. Like…like our memories, and…and that sort of thing.”

Terry just stared at his son. “Are you telling me that we’re going to be stuck like this?”

“Yeah…I mean, not for too long, like less than a day. The bar says it’ll finish sometime tomorrow morning.”

“Well, we can just change ourselves back then.”

“No, Dad, you don’t get it–we won’t remember what we were like. We won’t even remember that we’ve used the program. None of that will have happened to us…we’ll be who we are now, and it’ll be like that’s who we’ve always been…I’m…I’m sorry dad, but I’m telling you the truth. This…this is kind of who we’re stuck as.”

Terry didn’t say anything for a second, he just let that sink in. “You mean…you mean, I’m stuck as this five foot dwarf, a fucking dwarf who can’t–can’t stop thinking about how much he want’s to have…have filthy, nasty sex with his own son? His…his eleven foot tall son, who’s twice the size of me, and stinks like a fucking outhouse?”

“You don’t have to be a jerk about it, dad! I said I was sorry!”

“Well sorry isn’t going to cut it!” Terry shouted, and climbed down off of his son, “I had a life Caleb, I was…I was…”

He couldn’t remember. He focused really hard, as hard as he could, but it was like staring through a thick fog–he knew what was there, but he couldn’t see it. The more distant the change, the harder it was to see, and his old life, it was gone–he hadn’t always been gay, had he? Had…Hadn’t he? He didn’t want to be straight. that was for sure, but…wasn’t there? Sure,he loved his son…

Terry shouted, and punched the wall in anger, but it was gone–it was gone, and it wasn’t going to come back.

“Dad…Dad, look–I know this isn’t what…what you would have wanted, but we’re going to be happy at least, right?”

“Don’t you fucking say anything–nothing you say can fucking make this right!” Terry shouted at his son, but Caleb didn’t say anything back–he just reached over, grabbed his dad, and pulled him into a tight hug. “God damn it Caleb! Let me go! Let–let me..” he said, but then he was crying, and his big son was holding him tight, and everything…everything wasn’t really so bad, was it? He hadn’t wanted this, no–but he wanted it now, he wanted it…badly, and that scared him even more.

“Look, dad–I…I know I can’t make things right, but…but look, maybe I can make things better, you know? Here, come on. I can’t fix reality, but I can make some limited changes–”

“No–No more changes, I’m done.”

“Well, I was going to make you taller…” Caleb said, grinning, “But if you like being a ‘dwarf’ now, I think it’s damn sexy, myself.”

“But you said you couldn’t change anything,” Terry said, suddenly suspicious that his son might have been lying to him before, “If you can change me, why can’t you just change me–us–back?”

“Because you–the ‘old’ you–could have never existed in this reality. Even if the program let me make the change, which I don’t think it would, by tomorrow morning you’d be back to this, or something close. But, if I just make a few tweaks–some changes that this reality can absorb and integrate–then I think I can make things a bit better. So look–you tell me what I can do to make you better–this you–and I’ll do the best that I can.”

Terry just looked down, “How…How can I trust you? How can I ever trust you again, Caleb? I mean, I can’t…”

“Dad, I can’t undo what I did–if I could, I would. I never…I never meant things to get this out of hand, and I’d…I’d always thought I would just put things back the way they were, eventually. But I can’t, so…so let me make it up to you. Come on, I know you had fun some of the time…tell me what you liked best.” Caleb sat down next to his dad again, reached over and started toying with his cock.

Caleb let out a groan when his son touched him, and all he wanted to do was throw himself at his boy and just fuck, but he held back. Still, he wasn’t happy like this, really, so he might as well take advantage of his son’s offer. What had he enjoyed? How far back could he remember? He…he’d liked how it had felt being fat, actually–as the chef. He’d been massive, sure, but so…confident. How fucked up was that, that he’d actually enjoyed being huge, obese gainer? But it was true. “I…I liked being fat–actually. When I was the chef. And…and I really liked the whole…the whole smoking thing. Not being your cub, but just…smoke. And I gotta say, these tattoos are kind of sexy. Actually, it was probably most fun being that redneck daddy of yours. The accent scared me at first, but…and god, it’s so messed up, I know, but being…being this filthy, and seeing you this filthy, it turns me on so much, and you know, I actually kind of liked shitting myself as Porky, with that diaper and–” Terry blushed and stopped talking, suddenly embarrassed. “But mostly I–I’d like to be taller. Just forget the rest of what I said, I…I didn’t really mean any of that.”

Caleb just looked at his dad for a second, before he said, “You really did enjoy yourself, didn’t you?”

“Just make me taller, would you?”

Caleb grinned and said, “Sure thing dad,” and got up, smirking, lumbering into his room and sitting down at the computer, “One taller dad, coming right up–but not as tall as me,” and then under his breath added, “and…maybe a few other…small details…”

“Wait, what?” Terry asked, but before he could get closer to see what his son was doing, Caleb was already typing away, and suddenly, well, every step threw him off balance as he tried to walk, his legs thickening and lengthening with each stride, and it was all he could do to not fall over when he just stood still. Well, he was definitely taller–if his son was eleven feet, Terry probably capped out around eight, or maybe nine. It was strange seeing everything from that high up, and the sense of vertigo hung around for a few moments until he became more used to his new perspective. It was then that he realized that Caleb was still typing–and that he was still changing. His final body had been mostly muscle–and at his five foot height, he couldn’t have weighed more than 150 pounds, but that was rapidly changing. Looking down, he saw fat start bubbling up under his skin, shrouding his physique, but it didn’t stop there. His gut ballooned out, and then softened into an apron like the one he’d had in the kitchen–except bigger. Hell, he’d been one fat tub of lard then, but at his new height, he had to be over six or seven hundred pounds of blubber.

“Caleb! Caleb, I fucking told you to just make me taller! What the fuck is this–I don’t–” Terry started to say, but Caleb had already gotten up from the computer, walked over and drawn him into a deep kiss, pulling his fat body into his big gut and muscular chest, and Terry couldn’t help but just melt, especially when his son started fiddling with his big nipples, and jiggling his flab, his cock was so hard…

“Dad,” Caleb said, when they pulled apart, “Stop thinking so much. I know what you want, now quit worrying about who you were, and let me make you happy–let me…make you feel good.”

“Caleb…please…I…” Terry started to say, but his son shushed him.

“You know, I think we need to keep that mouth of yours occupied with something else, don’t you?”

Caleb sat back down at the computer, and Terry just watched him. He should stop him, shouldn’t he? And yet, he was…so damn curious, and horny, and excited. He needed something to calm him down. He reached into the front pocket of the massive overalls he was wearing, pulled out his can of chew and started packing it into his lips on both sides, his cock pulsing as he packed himself full. He fucking loved the sensation of a big lipper, and it only got better when he pulled out one of his massive, 70 ring cigars, stuck it in his mouth and lit it up, taking a massive draw, and pulling out as much spit as he could from the leaves in his mouth. “Aww, sheet yeah boy, feel’s damn fine…” he said, and he had to think about it for a second before he realized that the heavy southern drawl hadn’t been there a second before. “Fuck, ya went ‘n changed me again, didn’ ya…”

Terry knew better than to ask his son to stop what he was doing, and if he were honest–he liked what Caleb was doing, and didn’t really want him to stop. Hell, they’d been fucking each other for so long, why should he be embarrassed? He felt like that wasn’t quite right for some reason, but if he couldn’t remember a time when he and his son weren’t desperate to fuck…then was that really true anymore? Sure, maybe at some point, in some other reality, but in this one, well, in this one he was gonna be one hot stinking redneck, with the sexiest son in the whole neighborhood.

Looking down at himself, he saw that Caleb still wasn’t finished. The tattoos on his arms grew together into solid sleeves, and he watched the patterns worm their way over the rest of his body, and under his overalls. He figured that, at this point, most of his body was probably covered. His beard and hair grew out a bit further, and he pulled his thick, greying hair back into the ponytail he preferred, feeling the hair become greasy and slimy as he gripped it. Yep, apparently his boy wasn’t satisfied with his hygiene either, and before too long he just…well, stank. But it was a hot, musky, filthy stink, the kind of stink he loved, and he grinned, squirting some tobacco juice from his mouth, feeling it run down into his beard. “Damn boy, ya sure ain’t foolin’ round none.”

“Nope,” Caleb said, “I don’t think the changes will stick too much–reality will probably reassert itself by the time to program runs its course, but I figure we might as well have a little fun in the meantime, eh Pa?” Caleb stood up, and when he did, Terry say that his son wasn’t just a couple feet taller than him anymore–apparently his son had had a few changes in mind for himself too.

“Gawd damn, son, yer jus’ gonna make me feel short again,” Terry said, taking another massive draw off his huge cigar.

“Hey, you said that ya didn’t wanna be a dwarf–well ya ain’t a dwarf,” Caleb said, his own speech patterns shifting to match Terry’s, “but ya didn’ say Ah couldn’t git taller.”

Caleb was growing taller–probably to about twelve feet–as tall as the already oversized ceilings in their house. He lost a bit of his round gut, but what he lost in fat he made up for in muscle–he was becoming damn ripped, in fact. He still had a big gut, but on top of that were two massive pecs, and his biceps and thighs were making Terry’s mouth water, more tobacco spit dribbling down his beard. He didn’t seem nearly as unkempt as his father, his beard and hair were trimmed up quite a bit shorter, but damn did he reek. Not like Terry, who had a certain lazy stench of filth about him–Caleb reeked of sweat and workouts and…sex. He also gained a substantial number of tattoos, and fuck if he didn’t look like a sexy fucking beast, standing there a few feet away. Terry wondered for a moment what someone would think if they stumbled upon the two of them…but he didn’t care–he just didn’t care one lick. He just wanted to fuck his boy all night–

Terry was suddenly caught off guard by a massive fart ripping out his ass, along with something else. It caught him by surprise, when the stench of shit slammed into him, and he froze, realizing that he had just packed the ass of his overalls with a massive load of shit, and Caleb walked over, reached around with both hands, grabbed his Pa by the ass, smashing the load around as he pulled his obese father into a deep kiss. The two of them spent a few minutes chewing Terry’s tobacco between the two of them, brown spit running down both of them, as Caleb kept working the shit around in the back of his dad’s overalls until it came around the front, coating his balls and cock…and fuck if it didn’t feel amazing. He couldn’t…he couldn’t even be ashamed of it anymore, he didn’t care, it felt so good, so nasty and just so…so right.

“Piss fer me Pa, come on, soak these fuckin’ overalls a yers…” Caleb whispered, and Terry did as he requested, taking a drag off his cigar, before blasting a full load of piss into his overalls, feeling it soak into the shit, and it ran down his legs and into the rubber boots he was wearing. He could feel the shit and piss squishing between his toes, and he let out a deep groan which his son silenced with another long kiss. “You like it…don’t ya Pa?”

“Fuck son, I fuckin’ do–how fuckin twisted is that?”

Caleb chuckled, pushing all of the tobacco back into his dad’s mouth, “Not as twisted as this.” He then gave Terry a shove, and he fell back, landing on his massive ass, feeling the shit squish around with the impact, and then his son was on him, unbuckling the latches on his overalls and pulling down the front. Looking down, Terry could see his cock was coated with piss and shit, but before he really had a chance to think about it, his son was sucking it clean, deepthroating his whole, two foot long cock.

“Oh fuck yeah, boy!” Terry said, twisting and yanking at his nipples as he ground his shitty crack into the floor of his son’s room, “You fuckin’ love the taste a yer Pa’s shit ‘n piss, don’t ya? Yeah, yer just a nasty fuckin’ redneck pig like me.”

“Well, like father like son, ya know?” Caleb said, pulling off Terry’s cock, shit smeared across his face, “Ya really oughta try some a this Pa, I think ya’d love it. Here, I know jus’ what tah do.” Caleb scooted down to Terry’s booted feet, and pulled off one of his boots, still full of his  own piss, and took a whiff. “Whoo wee, Pa, ya sure do love yer rubber, don’t ya? When’s the last time ya took these off? Still, Ah think yer gonna love it, though,” Caleb said, and brought the boot up to Terry’s lips, “Open up Pa, ‘n taste yer fuckin’ filth.”

Most of it went down his fat gullet, but plenty of it washed out and down his front, where his hands rubbed it into his fatty folds, and hell if it wasn’t one of the filthiest things he’d ever tasted, his piss, shit combining with the tobacco in his mouth. When he finished, he realized he’d accidentally swallowed some of his chaw, he’d been so eager for his own waste. His son yanked off the second boot and fed that mess to his Pa as well, afterwhich Terry worked up a mighty belch. “Fuck boy, that hit the spot.”

“Ha, don’ tell me that was enough tah satisfy a big pig like you.”

“Satisfied? Hell nah, I could put away plenty more where tha’ came from!”

“Oh is that so, Pa?” Caleb said, grinning, “Well, it just so happens I might have some more…if you want it.”

Looking up at his massive son, over twice as tall as a normal man now, Terry tried to get a grip on himself, but it felt like the entire universe was just spinning out of his control. Of course he wanted to eat his son’s shit–and he quickly realized, it’s not like this would be the first time. He tried to remember that he hadn’t always been this fat ass redneck, but it was easier to remember that he and his son had been each other’s toilets for years now, and they both fucking loved every second of it. Worse–or perhaps better–he couldn’t even be ashamed of it anymore. “Fuck yeah, show me what ya got fer Papa, boy,”Terry said, letting himself smile, his gut giving a hungry rumble of eagerness.

Caleb dropped the grimy gym shorts he was wearing, and saw his son had on one of his filthiest jockstraps, and he gave a little moan when the stench hit his face. Caleb straddled his dad’s chest and shoved the stinking piss, cum and shit stained mesh into his father’s mouth and nose, grinding it back and forth, and said, “You wanna be my big piggy toilet today, Pa? You want me to cram a big load a shit down yer fuckin’ throat?”

Terry wasn’t listening, he was chewing at the jock and his son’s massive bulge, his cock even larger than his erect two foot tool beneath his big fat gut. He didn’t care anymore. He loved his son so much…especially the massive logs of shit Caleb proceeded to feed his father, making sure of overload him faster than he could swallow, to give Caleb some to lick out of his filthy beard afterwards–but not before his father had worked both of his fists up his hole, milking his prostate until he’s shot a gigantic wad all over his father’s fat gut. Still, the two of them were insatiable, and as the timer on the computer continued to count down, and their memories of their previous identities continued to dwindle, the two of them kept on, fucking, feeding, fisting, pissing, shitting and licking the night away, until they’d finally collapsed, exhausted, on the floor of Caleb’s room, and cuddled each other to sleep in their own filth.

The next thing Terry knew, he was stretching in his son’s oversize bed in his room, worming his way out of his son’s grip and pulling himself off his son’s big dick which had mysteriously snuck its way up his ass sometime in the night. The bed underneath him was sopping wet, but he was used to that–both he and his boy had a habit of wetting and shitting the bed in the night, not that either one of them would have it any other way. He sat up and stretched, feeling the dry shit on him crack as he did, and he stood up, giving his hole a scratch and licking off the scum his fingers pulled away. Waddling over to the mirror, he took a look at himself–he could still distantly remember that he hadn’t always been like this, but it was simply an abstract fact–he had no actual memories of his prior identities.

He was shorter than the night before–reality must have not liked him being that tall. Still, he was bigger than the five feet he’d started out with, but had probably dropped back to about seven. He hadn’t lost a pound of fat though, and on his shorter physique he was absolutely massive now, and so fucking sexy, slathered with shit…He reached around in his flab but couldn’t get a good grip on his cock, and gave up in a huff, looking back at his massive, slumbering son. He could fuck his hole of course…but maybe it would be better to let him sleep a bit more. Caleb could be such a bear in the morning, but taking his Pa’s piss and shit down his throat usually improved his mood considerably. That, and a few cups of strong black coffee. Terry let him slumber and lumbered over past the computer and jiggled the mouse, before sitting down at the desk and looking at the program which had made such a mess of everything.

There was a timer in the corner–it had about five minutes left. He took a few moments to stuff a whole can of chaw in his mouth and light up a cigar, before watching as the clock ticked away the rest of his alternate pasts, wondering if he should feel sad about losing them. But why should he? He was happy–his son was happy. However they might have been before didn’t matter to him all that much, in the grand scheme of things, and by the time the clock elapsed, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was contemplating anymore, as the final, fleeting sensation that things might have been different were erased, and then a window popped up, alerting Terry that the reality synchronization had completed, and that full functionality had been restored to the program.

Terry closed that window…and then smiled, and started looking around the program. There was a lot to it, and a lot that he could do with it…and he realized, that there was nothing stopping him. Eager now, his cock hard, he started making changes to his profile and his son’s, but as he was about to activate the changes, he paused. Something told him that he should wait, and let his son look at it too–they needed to do this together, it was too big to surprise someone with. Still, Terry had something else he could use to surprise his son.

He went over to where his son was still snoring, the covers off, and got down next to his ass, licking his lips, and started cleaning out his son’s hole, listening to him moan and mutter as he slept, and just as he was sleepily coming to, his dad stood up and worked his cock into his ass. “Aw fuck, Pa!” Caleb groaned as Terry drove the entire two feet length into Caleb’s ass, “Ain’t it a bit early?”

“It’s nearly noon, son!” Terry said with a chuckle, gripping his cigar in his teeth, “and ya know how Ah git when Ah’m horny, not come on and open up.” Caleb let his Pa fuck his hole, somewhat begrudgingly, given how sleepy he still was, but after Terry came, he was nice enough to give his boy a blowjob and swallow his load of morning piss too. “Alright son, now come ‘ere, I got somethin’ tah show ya.”

Terry had Caleb sit down at the computer, and then showed his son the changes he’d planned while Caleb was asleep. Caleb was at first a bit skeptical, but as his dad explained it, and as his cock got harder, he was finding less and less objectionable about what his dad was suggesting. Still, he had a few changes he wanted to work in first.

“Ya sure ya wanna go through with this, Pa?” Caleb asked, as they put the finishing touches on the changes, “Ah don’t think this is gonna be reversible.”

“Ah don’t give a flyin’ fuck–this is gonna be so god-damn hot!” Terry said, sucking on his cigar, “Ya done with yer changes yet?”

“Hold yer horses, this is…kinda delicate, ‘n ya weren’t all that careful when ya did it the first time.”

“Ha–’delicate.’ Ain’t nothin’ delicate ‘bout what’s gonna happen here today.”

Caleb laughed, and looked over the screens of the computer again. “Alright, Ah think it’s ready. I made sure it’ll load from the cloud too–cause Ah don’ think the computer’s gonna survive this.”

“Whatever–turn it on and let’s git this show on the road!”

Caleb looked at the computer, and couldn’t believe that they were about to do this, but why the hell not? And then he hit the ok button, and felt himself start to grow, but faster than usual.

“Shit–this is gonna hurt, ain’t it?” Terry said, and Caleb looked over at his dad, and saw that between the two of them they were rapidly filling up the bedroom.

“Well you’re the one who didn’t want to turn on the reality adjuster!”

“Well, then it wouldn’t have been a surprise tah everyone else! Come on, we’d better git outside, if we can!”

Caleb hurried out of the room and down the stairs, and barely squeezed his way out of the front door as he grew too big to fit, but his dad was too slow with all of his flab, and by the time he reached the living room, he was too big to fit through.

“Aww shit, yeah, this is gonna hurt…” Terry said, as his bulk quickly filled the living room, breaking furniture and pushing against the walls of the room.

“Hold on Pa, I’ll help ya!” Caleb said. He was taller than the first story now, and he picked up the family car–amazed that his strength was already enough for it to feel like a heavy dumbbell in his hands, and started slamming it into the upper story of the house, and then into the floor, opening up a big enough hole that his dad could work his way to standing. Together, they demolished the house as they grew, and before long Terry was free, the side of the house was little more than rubble, and the two of them were still growing. By the time they were finished, Caleb had grown to six stories tall–more than twice as tall as their house had been–and Terry maxed out at four stories–shorter than his son, but still massive. Terry looked around at what had been a sleepy neighborhood on a Sunday morning, but hearing the commotion, people had piled out of their doors, and now stood gaping at the two giants where their neighbor’s house had been.

Smiling, Terry grabbed one of the trees from their backyard and uprooted it, rolling it between his hands. As he did, the wood shifted in pattern until it formed itself into a massive cigar, and with a snap of his fingers, it lit up, and he took a deep draw on it, exhaling a massive plume of smoke which settled about the two of them like a fog. He made a second one and handed it to his son, and soon enough they were both pumping out a massive amount of smog. “Well son, let’s head downtown. I think we need tah introduce ourselves tah the community.”

“Sounds like a plan tah me, Pa,” Caleb replied, and together, the two thundered off through the streets.

***

Wellington wasn’t a large town, but it was relatively peaceful, especially on a Sunday. Many of the stores that lined the main street had just opened a few hours ago, and business had been slow so far. Still, it started out as a beautiful morning, but around noon, the strangest thing happened–a massive wall of fog started working it’s way into the small town. People who were outside were the first to be affected, and as soon as it swept over them and they inhaled it, they discovered that it wasn’t fog at all–but smoke.

Several people called the fire department, and a few described the smoke as smelling not like a burning building–but like a cigar. It was soon after that the people first exposed to the fog started to change. It affected the women first, usually a few minutes after exposure, as they were suddenly struck by a crippling pain, their breasts disappearing as their bodies changed, their vaginas sealing up as their cliotori expanded into new, massive penises. Men, however, were affected too, most of them developing copious amounts of body hair, their beards growing out of control as well. A few experienced a sudden shift in age as well–often into middle age or even beyond. This was seen most commonly in teenagers and children, as they rapidly aged into their forties and fifties, their personalities and minds changing along with their bodies.

The fire trucks roared past this chaos and deep into the fog, and so the firefighters were the first to be hit with the second smell. It was something between a filthy locker room, day old sneakers, and sweaty towel–the most powerful, overwhelming musk any of them had ever smelled. It forced itself on them, and as the smoke started changing them, the found themselves growing hornier. The truck came to a halt as the driver started ripping at his uniform, desperately trying to get to his cock, but before he could start jacking off, the man next to him, his beard reaching down to his chest, leaned over and started sucking him off. The men found it impossible to think about anything beyond sex, their minds slowly draining away as the stench drifted into town.

As the people recovering from the changes the smoke wrought smelled–and saw–what was happening, the men of the town being turned into sex-crazed beasts, they started to run away from the sirens towards the other side of town, hoping to escape the musk and the smoke, but after a few blocks–on the other side of the train tracks–they found themselves faced with a different monstrosity–a giant man, hugely obese and stinking of filth, stood in their way, straddling the main street, and before any of them could turn and run back in the other direction, they watched the giant smile, squat, and then shit several massive piles of filth into the middle of the street.

The stench was horrific, but the men found themselves unable to turn away. In fact, they found themselves growing hungrier, the more they smelled it. The weaker willed among them almost immediately gave a few snorts and then charged towards the muck, devouring as much of it as they could, as quickly as they could, but in the end the men started swarming into the shit, all of them starved for it, desperate for it, and as they ate, they began to change one again.

It started out as weight gain, fat packing onto them faster than any of them could have ever imagined, coupled with some growth as well–most of them averaging at about a story tall, with some of the first ones several feet taller. Their human features had twisted–their feet and hands becoming hooved trotters, tusks emerging from their now snouted faces, their eyes feral, perverted and starved for lust. The giant sat down and his minions swarmed over him, licking his body clean of any filth they could find, and with a sigh he let loose a fountain of piss, his pigmen fighting over the stream, thirsty as could be, and desperate to serve their new master.

On the other side of town, the men lost to the stench of musk found their minds becoming duller and duller, and many of them didn’t even notice when the huge, muscular giant strode past them, his massive cock half hard and dribbling a torrent of precum. That–however–they did notice, the smell of fresh cum drawing them like flies. The men drank it down, growing hairier, muscular and muskier as they did, their bodies almost devolving into some sort of beastly form, fanged and clawed and ferociously horny. They fought with each other over it, and the giant stood over them, milking cum from his cock, feeding his beasts, until one of them latched onto the head, drinking more than the rest–becoming the pack’s alpha. It roared at the massive giant, ready to challenge it for control, but before it could attack, the massive man sprayed all of the beasts down with a massive load of piss. They fell back then, immediately subservient after being marked by their master, and came forward, serving him, licking away his sweaty musk and serving his cock and his hole eagerly.

When the town had been emptied of people and divided between the two giants, they met in the middle, their hordes following close behind, and tackled each other to the ground, kissing and grinding their massive bodies together in the street, their hordes swarming on and around them. It was a day later when the two of them finally pulled apart, their hordes exhausted and sleeping all over the ruins of the town, and Caleb and Terry looked at each other and smiled.

“Hey, Burisburg is just a few miles down the road–wanna do it again?”

“Sounds awesome to me–can’t wait!”

My Birthday!

I didn’t have a chance to post anything yesterday, even though I’d planned to, ‘cause it was my birthday.

*Toots own horn for a few minutes*

Alright, enough of that. If you feel like getting me something, maybe get yourself a commission? I’d sure appreciate it! Plus, it’ll give me more stuff to post. Anyway, I’ll post the final section to “Identity Crises” today, and we’ll continue the interactive tomorrow.

Responses Here!

Oops, I forgot the reply box! It won’t let me edit the story, so just give your answer in the following box. Here’s the options again:

1. Trent is going to chub out a bit and develop a fetish for grungy slobs. He himself will stop showering and changing clothes, enjoying musk and piss play in particular. Everyone he comes into contact with will find their hygienic standards diminish substantially. ***WARNING*** Don’t vote for this if you aren’t ok with things getting potentially messy.

2. Trent is going to become a bear with a smoke fetish. He himself will love all kinds of tobacco—chew, cigarettes, cigars, and pipes—as long as he can get as much nicotine as possible. Everyone he encounters will pick up the habit, but whatever they end up smoking or chewing will change them somewhat as well.

3. Trent is going to become a musclebound manwhore. He’ll be obsessed with sucking off and being fucked by as many men as he can find, as often as possible, and have a strong exhibitionist streak as well. Everyone he encounters will find themselves bent to his submissive desires, twisted into tops designed to please his holes—as well as toys for his enjoyment.

What’s your pick?

Interactive – Transformation Contagion #2

“You’re fucking screen peeking!”

“Was not–don’t blame me for the fact that you can’t aim worth shit.”

Eric let off a heavy sigh–his twin brother was such a pill, he didn’t even know why he played this game with him. They were identical in looks, both slim with youthful faces prone to stubble, and they even got their hair cut similarly, but their interests were far more varied than their looks. Eric had always been more interested in sports and the outdoors, while Charley had grown into more of an introvert, playing video games and reading more often than not. Still, they were close–close enough that Eric could resist the urge to wring his neck most of the time. He waited a few seconds until his character respawned, and then set off into the base again, hoping he could get the drop on Charley once this round so his brother wouldn’t have a clean sweep, and he kept an eye on Charley out of the corner of his eye, to try and catch him in the act, which was easier said than done.

Still, these new fangled systems–he just wasn’t used to these controllers at all. He itched his arms, not noticing the hair which was filling in across them as he did, or the stubble growing across his face. Still, his younger brother was the one who’d bought the system–the last system Eric had really played much of was two generations ago, so of course he wasn’t going to be as good at it as his little brother. He turned back to the game, but the controller didn’t fit in his big hands quite right–but then again, they probably weren’t designed for someone with hands as big as his were.

Charley peeked over at his older brother, with his bushy beard and hairy arms, and felt a strange shiver run through him. His brother was…really sexy, actually. He’d always liked it when Eric took his shirt off, and he could see all the hair on him, even on his shoulders and down his back to to his ass crack…he shook his head, wondering why in the world he was thinking about his dad like that. That wasn’t right…was it? He shifted his position on the couch, his body filling out with fat. His slim physique was gone in a matter of moments, replaced by a chubby body–not fat by any means, but certainly nothing compared to the hulking form of his father, the tiny controller looking like it would be crushed to bits in his massive, hairy hands, leaning and and squinting at the TV screen. Eric took a second and grabbed some glasses off the side table as his hair grew streaked with silver strands, and put them on. Now he was able to see better, not that it helped him play better. He just never liked this whole video game thing, but Charley had always enjoyed it, so he played along to make him happy…still, he had an inkling that Charley would be much happier with his dad’s cock buried up his ass.

Eric looked over at his son on the couch next to him, and the two of them just stared at each other for a long beat, and then Charles clambered over and had his lips locked with his father’s, though he had to kneel on the couch in order to reach them, considering how tall his dad was. Eric wrapped his big arms around him, their clothes disappearing in a puff of smoke like they’d never even been there, and the heat of his boy’s soft fat against his hard, weathered muscle made him growl as he bit down on his cub’s lip.

“Something tells me you already know what you want for winning, son,” Eric said, smirking, and Charley grinned, wrapping his hand around his father’s big cock and swallowing it all, getting it nice and wet so it would slide into his ass easier. He loved getting fucked by his father so much–it was the only prize he ever wanted–though he usually got it regardless of whether he won or lost.

Watching the two of them, over by the doorway, Art–invisible to both–couldn’t last long enough to watch them start fucking, and nutted all over the carpet in front of him, panting a bit. That had worked better than he’d imagined–or rather, it had worked exactly how he imagined. Where there had been two slim college twins, there was now a massive bear daddy and his cubby son, the second sucking on his dad’s massive cock, and he figured that the two of them would probably spend more time fucking than anything else from now on, and he hoped Eric would be willing to let Art fuck his new son’s hole sometime in the future–it looked too good to pass up, from where it was, up in the air as he sucked his daddy hard.

Still, he had two more students to visit, and change, Art thought. All of their cars were here, so he assumed that they were all home–the others were probably just upstairs in their rooms. Art tromped up the stairs, his cock already hardening again, wondering who he’d find first. It was Trent–the jock. He was sitting at his computer, looking at some straight pron site, masturbating, and Art rolled his eyes. Perhaps it was time for Trent to develop a more interesting fetish–and one Art could get behind as well?

~~~~

Your choices:

1. Trent is going to chub out a bit and develop a fetish for grungy slobs. He himself will stop showering and changing clothes, enjoying musk and piss play in particular. Everyone he comes into contact with will find their hygienic standards diminish substantially. ***WARNING*** Don’t vote for this if you aren’t ok with things getting potentially messy.

2. Trent is going to become a bear with a smoke fetish. He himself will love all kinds of tobacco–chew, cigarettes, cigars, and pipes–as long as he can get as much nicotine as possible. Everyone he encounters will pick up the habit, but whatever they end up smoking or chewing will change them somewhat as well.

3. Trent is going to become a musclebound manwhore. He’ll be obsessed with sucking off and being fucked by as many men as he can find, as often as possible, and have a strong exhibitionist streak as well. Everyone he encounters will find themselves bent to his submissive desires, twisted into tops designed to please his holes–as well as toys for his enjoyment.

 

Curse Cards

by Beardsman and Wesley Bracken

***WARNING*** This has heavy slob TF, incontinence and dumbing down.

***

Three buddies that had just graduated from high school had little to do with their time. College didn’t start until the end of Summer for them, and they had occupied their time with video games, movies, and random events around their small town.

Jae, the oldest of the group (by only two months) was usually the instigator in whatever took place. He had the ideas, the funds, and the knowledge among the three. He looked like your typical jock; blonde spiked hair, hazel eyes, and a decent-enough frame with more of a swimmer’s build. He was rarely seen in anything fancy; just a tank and comfortable shorts.

The second of the group had been Eric. Brown hair that was just curly enough to dub him as the “jew-fro’d-dork” around the town. It didn’t help that his eyesight was impaired and he needed glasses. The only reason he wasn’t pummeled while in school was thanks to his childhood friendship with Jae and Allister.

Allister, the youngest, the most naive. Certainly the prettiest of the group without a doubt. After a long frightful rumor around his senior years that he was gay, he managed to come out strong with a delicate beauty at his arm. The rumors were founded through his impeccable hygiene and sense of fashion. Truly the hipster of the town. He even went through a phase where he grew out a moustache and curled it.

All three were friends since kindergarten, unable to avoid each other even when arguing with how close-knit the town had been. They each had plans to to stay together no matter how old they would become- but those plans went no further than college it seemed. Different career-paths in mind, they would find themselves elsewhere sooner-or-later. Jae was the first to realize this, and decided to make this Summer their greatest before ultimately being tied down with work and social-problems. On this current day, however, he was at a loss for things to do. Netflix didn’t give way for many options as their tastes all varied, and they had gone through the entire collection of B-Horror Films. With rain on the way, it made hiking or even riding their bikes more of a chore than a fun time out.

With all three settling in at Jae’s empty house–his parents being away on a cruise–Jae dug through a collection of older board games located in their family coat-closet. He ran across childhood favorites that gave a surreal effect with the boxes covered in dust and grime, forgotten in the back along with simpler times. He found a smaller stack of decks of cards. Poker decks, Uno, a matching game… but one in particular seemed to catch his fancy. He hadn’t remember a black box with silver trim containing any game before. And while pushed behind the pile, it was devoid of dust like the others.

Upon checking back to see the other two flipping through the satellite channels, he removed the contents of the box. Cards, as expected, with the same black and silver patterns adorning the backs. The fronts–mysteriously enough–were blank. His confusion held, until he saw a folded paper sticking from a slot in the side. It was the instructions.

“Guys, check this out,” Jae called. Their heads turned and looked over the couch to see him raising from his crouched stance, cards in hand, and reading the first part of the instructions.

“What’s that? Collectible poker cards or something?” Eric asked.

“It’s not Yu-Gi-Oh! is it? Kind of got tired of that when they changed all the rules up,” Allister remarked, last to join in.

“No, it’s some weird kind of Tarot thing. I mean, I dunno. It doesn’t say what they are. The instructions are kind of weird and cryptic.”

“‘Cryptic’? How so?” Eric asked, raising from the couch and grabbing the blank cards from the eldest.

“Look at the lines here:

For those who dare to play the devil’s hand

Let caution dwell before demand.

Your life, your choices, your body and soul

Your Mind, you world, no longer your own.”

They each read the top line together, slightly intrigued by the campy warning. Jumanji came to mind, but did nothing to deter them. Before long, they had vacated the living room and made their way to Jae’s room in the basement, setting up his game table for the cards. After the cryptic warning, the instructions stated that the deck must be placed in the middle after being thoroughly shuffled. Each person would take a turn pulling a card from the top, and the rest of the instructions would reveal themselves.

Jae had searched the box for some kind of manufacturer, or date, but came up with nothing. If this was some sort of “magical” deck of cards, it would be interesting at least to see things play out.

“Who should start? Jae?” Eric asked, watching Jae suddenly show some reluctance.

“Maybe Allister. I set the game up, and you look a little scared, Eric.”

“Do not!” Eric shouted back, just before Allister took a turn without questioning.

“Both of you are pansies… First card!” Allister placed the blank card onto the table, face-up, and watched the ink start to appear. Each boy was pleasantly surprised by how realistic it seemed, and wondered if the low-light of the room had anything to do with it.

~~Sexualities Askew~~

Main Effect: All players’ sexualities are inverted. The player who drew the card must then assign one of the following options to himself and every other player.

  • This player becomes more attracted to men the fatter they become.
  • This player becomes more attracted to men the older they become.
  • This person falls desperately in love with the person to their left.

“That’s insane,” Eric said, reading the card again, “I’m not gay!”

“Yeah, well I’m not either,” Allister said, and yet, as he said it, he knew he was lying. In fact, he remembered that the only reason he’d dated that girl in high school at all was as a beard, so people would stop calling him a faggot. She’d been ok with it–she found other guys to fuck, and he’d paid her off with with fashion advice. Looking at his two friends, he saw that similar revelations were working their way through their minds, and they all looked at each other, and then at the cards…

“No way, fuck this.,” Jae said, and tried to stand up from the table, but one of the cards flipped over on it’s own, the ink displaying a new message in a matter of seconds.

No player may leave the game early–quitting will result in a random number of curses from the deck.

“It knows what we’re saying?” Eric whispered.

“Just sit down, Jae. It’s just a trick. Of course people would stand up after reading shit like that,” Al bargained, watching Jae take his seat reluctantly, grumbling defiantly while doing so.

“Fuck- this is some fucked up shit!” Eric said, slightly terrified. He felt as if they had toyed with a sentient Ouja Board. Allister was ignoring him and rereading the curses, hurring, trying to make up his mind. Jae was to his left–he could handle being in love with him, couldn’t he?

“Alright!” Allister declared through the silence, causing them to jump. He continued, “I’ll take the last one,” he said, and then after a moment, added, “And Jae can have the first one. Eric, you’ll get the second.”

“Dude!” Jae said, “I hate fat people, you fucking know that!”

“And people twice my age? That’s like my dad! I mean…my dad…” Eric said, his eyes glazing over for a second. He had always kind of liked how his dad looked. He was about to turn 50, but looked a little bit older actually, because of how much he’d balded, and his tendency to wear a mustache. He’d always liked kissing him, and he’d snuck a few on his dad’s lips on occasion…

Eric shivered and shook his head, clearing it. No, he wasn’t going to be like that, he wasn’t. He concentrated hard, thinking about his girlfriends, but none of them were doing it for him. Well, aside from Jenny, that time Mr Washburn had caught them making out in the chem lab, what if he’d kicked her out, and then his teacher could have…

Jae, on the other hand, was sweating bullets. He hated fat people, he’d always hated them. He’d been big as a kid, and lost a bunch of weight after he’d been bullied for it, but he didn’t find it attractive at all! Even if…even if the sight of a big guy lumbering towards him down the hall was the only thing that seemed to get his cock hard anymore. Oh, he loved big boys, the bigger the better. He always felt bad, watching them get bullied, and more than once he’d stood up for them at school, befriending them, and usually, they’d let him please them too, after a while. Yeah, he’d massage their hot, flab, rub his face in it, suck them off, fuck them…anything to be closer to them.

Allister, however, only had eyes for Jae. He loved him–really, honestly, loved him. They’d both only had girlfriends to cover up the fact that they were gay, but Jae wasn’t the least bit interested in him. It didn’t matter what he did, how many times he professed his love, Jae would end up with some massive tub of lard, and it would make him so god damn jealous. He loved Jae–why couldn’t he see that, he loved him so much, he’d do anything to be with him–anything.

Shivering, they looked back at the table and saw the second card had changed it’s lettering, Next Turn–please draw a card.

His hand shaking, Jae reached out and flipped the top card over–the blank surface swirling to life, and the three of them read it nervously.

~~Unhealthy Obsessions~~

Each of you will pick up a rather unhealthy addiction. The person who drew this card will choose one of the options below for each player.

  • This player becomes a binge eater, immediately gaining 100 pounds.
  • This player becomes a heavy smoker, but only smokes cigars. They will age 10 years.
  • This player becomes a sex addict, and masturbates or has sex at least 10 times a day.

Jae sighed unhappily, looking between his nervous friends. He lingered for a moment on Allister, looking at the faggy twink hipster he always kept close. He always felt that burning desire Al held for him, and felt perpetually sorry that he couldn’t return it. This card, however…maybe..

“Alright.. I’m definitely not into smoking… You okay with it, Eric?” Jae asked, watching Eric shake his head, unsure, but that seemed like the easiest option for him. He was awkward with sex, and his parents were always over his shoulder. He’d hate them catching him in the middle of a wank. The binge-eating didn’t seem any better. What about his clothes? His lithe frame?

“Whatever, Jae. Just do it,” Eric replied, cringing as Jae selected him. Within moments, his brain flooded with information he hadn’t known existed. Cigar sizes, brands, tobacco blends. He let out a hearty cough, feeling his throat burn momentarily. He brought his hand to his mouth, originally to cover it and protect the others from saliva, but found a thick stogie planting itself between his lips. Upon his surprise, he took in a strong inhale. The burning returned, but felt natural; pleasant, even. The smoke he exhaled through his clenched teeth and flared nostrils engulfed his face. When dissipating, it left light stubble on his cheeks, and gone were his curls. His fro had either fallen away or shrunk, leaving patchy growth around the sides of his head and framing a shiny scalp. Smoking the way he did took years off his life, but it tasted so fucking good. “Yeah, made the right choice,” he stated, his voice rough and aged like his appearance, and took another draw on his cigar.

Jae, unsettled by the change, looked to Allister. So hipster and metro, as he remembered, but now just a needy twink. He’d be able to fix that. He selected him for the first option, watching Allister’s frightened eyes while his frame inflated, like a gelatin-filled balloon. His clothing wasn’t part of the change, as Al was afraid of as well, and made tearing noises in several spots. Being a hipster certainly didn’t help this conundrum, the too-tight clothing simply falling away after violently splitting. His jeans were the worst, holding up more than anything else. Al could only groan and pant heavily before the growing thighs burst through.

Jae watched his previously-skinny friend, sweating, grabbing the table for support. The only clothing left on him was his briefs, still somehow holding on, and looked more like a red thong disappearing clean into Al’s ass-cheeks. Well, not for long, as the elastic gave way and the remains of his underpants fell away. Al looked up momentarily to see Jae’s suddenly needy expression, licking his lips and examining the light rolls that were taking shape. Only 100 pounds for now, but maybe Jae could feed him later.

The last option on the card disappeared, the curse adhering to Jae. As if sitting next to the sexiest hipster chub he’d ever seen weren’t enough, his increased desires made things even worse. His hand was already pushed under the waist of his shorts, and he felt his growing bulge. It felt so hot, so hard in his palm. He was trying to remain in control, but he hadn’t cum yet today. It must have been a new record for him, and his balls churned and became enlarged with extra potent seed. They had to get bigger, being used to producing so much and draining so quickly. Jae fumbled with his shorts, his cock begging to be free of its cloth confines while Al drooled with anticipation. His love for Jae and growing hunger aligned, and he wanted to see the cock he lusted after for so long. Jae, however, wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings anymore, losing his battle with his urge to play with himself.

“Fffuck! Guys, just one right now, I have to!” Jae bargained, pulling his dick free of his shorts. The pulsing mass curved upwards and seemed a tad bigger than he remembered, but nowhere near proportionate to the growth in his nuts. He wasted no time in fisting the heavy rod, watching it leak profusely. “Oh shit, so good- so fucking good…” Eric felt only a little weirded out behind his cloud of tobacco, watching one of his best friends tug one out before him, but couldn’t help admire the well-toned frame of the young athlete. He was gay, after all.

Losing himself, thrusting into his hand before them without abandon, it didn’t take him long before he (noisily) sprayed all over himself, moaning like a total bitch. The sheer volume shotgunning from his dick was unreal, painting his abs white and even some on his chin. With heavy panting, he let his arms flop to his sides, and tried to regain composure. It didn’t go down, though. While a little winded from his efforts, his horny nature hadn’t bent in any way. It didn’t help that Al was fulfilling his own needs, either.

Jae cried out in ecstasy as Al engulfed the entire engorged cock into his hungry gullet, suckling it and milking it dry, swallowing leftover globs before pulling himself off and running his tongue over the toned pecs of the sex-crazed jock. The saliva left was sticky, warm, and exactly what got Jae’s motor running. He loved fat fucks drooling all over him, and welcomed Al’s advances this time by placing a firm grip over his head, pushing him down to eat more of his cum.

Eric rolled his eyes, a tad jealous and a little disgusted by what Jae considered sexy, and grabbed the top card of the deck. His turn…maybe they could change back, or maybe he’d get some action this time. He placed the card down:

~~Hygiene Roulette~~

Staying clean isn’t going to be as important to any of you. The player that drew this will choose a non-hygienic trait for each person.

  • The player will forget about shaving, waxing, or even combing. Let that wild body fuzz spread!
  • The player will forget about showering, and will quite enjoy his natural ‘cologne’. As will the others.
  • The player will forget about changing his clothes daily, possibly weekly!

“Aww, that’s gross. Is this game serious?” Jae said, looking over the options. Eric however, was kind of enjoying the idea of Jae not liking it. He was always the third wheel when Jae and Al were together–the two were almost always fucking, and he just didn’t understand what Jae saw in fat guys like Al. Still, maybe he could throw some roadblocks in their way…

“Well, I don’t know about you two yet, but I’m taking the hair for myself,” Eric said, and felt his body start itching almost immediately. However, he’d underestimated just how extreme the card was, and a thick pelt sprouted all over his body–but his face too. A beard he’d never seen the likes of covered his face and descended down to his chest–it looked like he hadn’t shaved once since the day he’d gotten his first fuzz–which he realized was actually the truth. His curly hair, however, was another story altogether. He felt it grow out even bigger, and then it started yanking itself and twisting into enormous, fat dreadlocks–it was disgusting…wasn’t it? But he’d had dreads for as long as he could remember, hadn’t he? Sure, it was kind of gross, but he was so hairy, and he did like how it made him look a bit older…still, he had to work out the other two options for his friends. “Alright Al, you’re going to stop showering, and Jae–forget about changing clothes.”

“Wait, seriously?” Al said, “that’s fucking disgusting!”

“Blame the cards man, do you think I’m happy smoking these cigars?” Eric said. Well, he was, actually. He’d picked up the habit to be more like his dad–his dad was so fucking hot…

Al, however, soon realized that his fate was sealed–he was turning rank. He suddenly couldn’t remember when he’d last bathed, and he didn’t care. He lifted his arm and took a whiff of his rank armpit and gave a sigh, feeling a tingle in his cock as he did. He…liked it. He really did. Other changes swept across him as well–his face breaking out from being unwashed, and grease from his rather large meals could be seen shining down his chest.

Jae was repulsed, but he wasn’t faring much better. His tank top was growing filthy from all of the cum he’d shot over the past week on it, and his shorts were crispy and dry. He smelled like a cum rag, and hell if it wasn’t turning him on as he sat there, smelling his stench and…and Al’s. He didn’t smell so bad now, actually, he smelled kind of…rank, but a good kind of rank. He was jacking off again, and then leaned in, shoving his nose into Al’s pit, licking the sweat and musk from it, and Eric tried to keep himself from retching as the two went at it again, Al jerking Jae’s cock with one hand and his own with the other until they both came. He’d wanted to drive them apart, but it looked like he’d only pushed them closer together.

“Fuck guys, that’s disgusting–can’t you wait until I’m gone to do shit like that? You’re making me gag!”

Al scowled at him, “Hey! You’re the one who did it to us, fucker! Do you think I like being a stinking blob of fat?”

“I like you as a stinking blob of fat,” Jae said, grinding his sticky, but still hard cock in between some of the folds of Al’s body, “I wanna fuck you, fatty, I wanna fuck that ripe ass off–”

Al shoved him away, and Jae snapped out of it, realizing what he’d said, but his cock was so needy, he didn’t know how he’d be able to live like this. Well, alone. If he lived with Al, well–no, he couldn’t think about that.

Al, angry at them both, grabbed the top card and flipped it over, waiting for the lettering.

~~Youth or Experience?~~

Each player must choose between youth or experience! They can either lose points off their IQ, or gain an equal amount in years of age. The person who drew the card will assign values to each player, but they have to divide the amount however they wish.

  • 25 points
  • 50 points
  • 75 points

Al grinned mischievously, but so did Eric. While Al could get his revenge, Eric couldn’t wait to see these fuckers gain some years.

“Alright, Jae? I going to go easy on you- for now. Let’s give you the 50 points,” Al stated, grinning at his love. He didn’t care if he was a little bit older, but certainly didn’t care if he was a bit dumber either. He always felt so uneducated around ‘the thinker’ as they used to call him.

Jae seemed a bit upset that he wasn’t given the lowest one, but was trying to decide how to divide the points while he tweaked one of his nipples through his grimy shirt.

“Um, well, let’s see…I don’t want to be too dumb.. College is soon…” the thought of having a dorm-mate flashed through his head, and how fed up he’d probably be finding crusted jocks and jerseys everywhere. At the same time of feeling worried, he felt a shiver of excitement run through him that he’d be marking his territory with old clothes. Shaking himself of the thought, he returned to his current predicament, “Oh! Uh…yeah..I’ll split it like this…” He took one last look at his younger body, and proclaimed his point usage: “35 points from my IQ, and 15 from my age!”

Jae’s wince was obvious as he felt the 15 years surge through his form. His body hair seemed a tad denser, but still kept short, and his skin was a bit less smooth. Probably the years he’d spent hanging around that smoking asshole Eric… A couple of wrinkled donned his forehead, and some silver hairs sprouted from his chest. In the same sweep, his head began to feel like it was stuffed with cotton. Memories were fuzzy, and the reality of the game was losing hold. He looked at his greasy blob of a boyfriend and felt the complexity of their relationship unravel. Reasons for their being together felt just a tad easier to accept. He was fat, fat is good.

Al was a bit stricken with guilt, watching the intelligence drain from Jae’s face. He didn’t think it would be so obvious, so literal, but the grin Jae was sporting said it all.

“Are you…are you alright, Jae?” He asked tentatively, and caught the horndog’s attention.

“Feeling fine, bro!” Jae exclaimed, quickening his efforts on his dick, close to spurting again in front of them. ‘Bro’ wasn’t a word Jae normally liked using. Even as a jock, it seemed too cliche. Now, he held no qualms about it. He was approaching middle-age, and kept the same vernacular he held in his younger days. Al rubbed Jae’s fuzzy pecs, helping him along with his next orgasm as he declared the next option.

“I’ll take the 75 points…”

“What? Why??” Eric asked, a bit surprised that he wasn’t stricken with such a terrible curse.

“I should have given him the smaller choice, but I acted too fast. It’s only fair. I’ll take 10 years to my age, and the rest in IQ.” Al felt the next warm spray of cum on the back of his hand, and smiled at his ill-clothed lover. Leaning down, taking a nice whiff of the grimy shirt and licking the fresh drips of seed. He felt the curse washing over him.

The aging happened so quick, the soft rolls of fat sagging just a bit further, his hair becoming a little thinner. Eric stroked his brown pelt of fur through his shirt, and lit another of his cigars, enjoying this bit a little too much. While he was particular to much older men, it was a thrill to see youth fading so quickly.

IQ was next, and Al sported the same dopey grin Jae had, only bigger. His eyes held the innocence of a child after that wave, and without his intelligence his inhibitions were drastically lowered. The obese imbecile lowered himself to suckle the drying drops of cum from the crusted cloth. Jae held him down, giggling at the hungry mass that worshipped him and his nasty attire.

Eric laughed triumphantly, gaining the last value, and chose to take off 5 from his IQ, and place 20 years to his age. The filthy dreads had swirls and streaks of silver rushing through them, already previously aged thanks to his intense smoking. He had to feel about 50 at this point, and he sucked happily at his stogie. The IQ loss wasn’t truly enough to destroy him, or impair his judgment in this game. The years taken away from him and gave his smoking quite the effect, darkening his teeth, his nails turning yellow, and his skin becoming a bit cragged.

“Hey, Jock-boy!” Eric called to Jae, “It’s your turn.”

Jae nodded like a cocky idiot, and drew from the deck, careful not to let the fat sack of shit raise himself off his dick.

~~One Big Happy Family~~

All the players are now related, and the youngest in the family has to obey his elders. In addition, as chosen by the drawer:

  • One player ages 50 years.
  • One player ages 20 years.
  • One player regresses 20 years.

“Aww…what?” Jae said, reading the card again, “Dang, that’s…kinda fucked up.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t want to be old do you?” Eric said, “I’ll take the big one, I don’t mind.” He really didn’t mind being that old, in fact, especially if that meant the other two would have to obey him. He was already a bit older, but if Jae did something different…

“No, hold on…” Jae said, “I don’t want to be that old, sure, but I don’t want to get younger. I kind of like where I am…I’ll give it to Al!”

“Wha?” Al said around Jae’s cock, but it was too late, as the fat dude, the youngest at 27, started to age rapidly. Eric could only watch, enthralled, as the binge eating took an even greater toll on his friend’s body, ballooning him up to over 500 pounds, where he plateaued, his fat sagging as his hair balded back, and a light, silver beard filled in over his face. He was…beautiful, and the fact that Eric couldn’t see him any other way now disturbed him, but fuck, if he didn’t want to fuck him now, so badly. Now he was just jealous of Jae more than anything. “Oh fuck, that’s so hot…” he groaned, moaning around his cigar and rubbing his crotch. Jae watched Eric, sizing him up. He didn’t want competition–what had he done? Maybe if he could make Eric like him too…

“Alright,” Jae said, “I’m going to age 20 years then.”

“Eric turned to him, “What? No!” but it was too late. Jae, at 32, quickly aged to 52, just past the threshold of Eric’s compulsive attraction, and suddenly here he was with two beautiful old men, and he was getting younger. Looking down, he lost ten of the twenty years he’d just gained, falling back to 27–a young adult, but half the age of his father and grandfather.

No! No, that was wrong, he wasn’t related to these fat dirty fucks, he wasn’t! But he had been lusting after his dad forever, hadn’t he? Especially now that he was greying and balding more heavily, the two of them would spend afternoons just watching porn together, and Eric always ended up riding his dad’s cock. His dad wanted him bigger though, Jae liked his men big. His stomach gave a grumble, and started to expand, his hairy body blimping out until he was over three hundred as well. Fuck he was hungry, and his dad was massaging his cock like he wanted him.

“Boy, get over here,” Jae said, “Your grandpa’s leaking again–take care of it, would you?”

“Sure Pa,” Eric said, happy to help. He got down in front of his dumb, fat grandpa, dug around for his cock and started sucking, and then his dad got down behind him and shoved his fingers in his fat hole, making Eric squeal a bit.

“Yeah boy, that’s so hot, I love watching you two fat pigs go down on each other,” Jae said, “You want my cock son? You want me to fuck this dirty shit chute of yours?”

Jae didn’t wait for a response–he knew what his boy wanted, and he fucked him rough and quick–he was too horny to make it long, and he managed to cum twice before Al gave a dull moan and shot his load across his grandson’s bearded face. Eric got up, feeling a shadow of humiliation, though he didn’t know why exactly, and then returned to his seat.

“Well son? It’s your turn, draw a card.”

Eric gulped, and drew a card, placing it on the table, and then read it.

~~Key Holder~~

The person who drew the card is the key holder. Of the following options, the key holder gets none, one other player will receive two options, and the last player will receive one.

  • Chastity device – The player may only cum with the key holder’s permission.
  • Fist mitts and muzzle – player can be compelled to behave like a dog at the will of the keyholder.
  • Butt plug – Player can get hard if and only if they are being fucked. The buttplug can only be inserted or removed by the keyholder.

Eric looked at his daddy, a look of confusion at his luck to draw such a card. As soon as control was taken away from him, he had the option of getting it back. Daddy Jae looked his boy in the eyes, still filled with hungry abandon, but was ready for anything that might happen.

“Pa, I have to do what the card says, right?”

“Seems so. You better not fuck this up, boy.” Jae scowled at his good-for-nothing son, drawing such a terrible turn-around card. Allister had no regrets, taking in deep whiffs of his old daddy-pits and rubbing the leftover cum from his last orgasm into his rolls, awaiting the next terrible fate to befall him. “You got your ol’ grandpa worked up for more, so just choose already.”

“Uh, alright, I-…Pa, you like being a top dog, right? A real alpha…”

“You son of a bitch! Give me the Butt-Plug!”

“Son of a bitch, eh? Not helping your case here, Dad… Let’s give you the Mitts and Muzzle,” Eric stifled a grin, watching the black mitts encase his Daddy’s hands. Jae’s fingers pulled in tight and curled into fists inside, unable to move freely from the hand. The wrists wrapped securely with a thick leather strap, fastened with a shiny buckle. Around his balding head, Jae felt the muzzle materialize and cover his nose and mouth- even his ears. He caught his reflection in the mirror across the room, seeing the muzzle as somewhat of a hood, with floppy rubber ears atop his scalp. He shook, trying to break free of his muzzle, but only jostled his brain around a bit. He felt fuzzy, anger lingering and unable to stand. He was at least able to breathe, the muzzle broken in the middle with a fake dog-tongue and a nice opening for inserting a juicy cock.

“Aww, who’s a sexy fuck-puppy??” Eric teased, watching Jae’s anger slip away from his face. A rush of euphoria came in waves through his old body at being called a puppy. The humiliation, the shame, it all translated to pure sex. His mitted hands started toying with his never-ending-erection, trying to grip it as best as possible. In his state, he couldn’t form words. Only whimpers and the frustrated fussing of a horny puppy.

“Cute puppy!” Al stated dumbly, watching his son degrade himself and hump his mitts. He couldn’t resist reaching out to scratch the puppy’s head. Eric almost couldn’t stop himself from laughing out. He was still a sexy old fucker, but he made such a wonderful pet. He’d have to take care of his bad habit, though.

“Now now, Pa. We can’t have a horn-dog like you messing the house. I’m going to give you the Chastity Device, too.”

Jae would have struggled, or protested, but he had to obey the key holder. For the first time since his obsession with sex and masturbation had started, his cock softened, and shrunk into a too-tight chastity device. He whimpered louder, pawing at his dick, and watched the drips of pre leak from the opening in the clear shell. Al was intrigued, reaching down to jostle the sealed crotch, and watched the puppy squirm.

“That leaves you, Grandpa. You get the Butt Plug.” Eric pointed at Al, and watched the slob gain an expression of discomfort. A searing pain pierced his backside, a phantom length driving into his rectum. His greasy fat jiggled and he struggled to reach under himself, finding a hard material poking from between his cavernous cheeks. Eric looked over the table to see clear pink object peeking out, very thick and nearly splitting the old fart in two. “Yeah, old fucks like you need SOMETHING to keep them hard, right Gramps? Why not a rubber man hose to keep you satisfied?”

Al felt the pain starting to turn as he jiggled the foreign object in his ass. Each little vibration made his pudgy dick throb and squirt more fluids under his draping stomach. He never felt so hard in his 72 years of age. He pushed grimy hands under his sagging belly and gripped what he could find of himself, spreading his musky pre into his thighs and slightly bouncing on the artificial cock. Jae was frisky, and annoyed with the attention pulled away from him. He brought his “paws” to his chest, and made begging noises towards his son.

“Puppy feeling lonely? Come on boy, here’s a bone for ya!” Eric pulled his hairy cock from his pants, flaunting it under the table. Jae was quick to retreat underneath the game and crawl on his mitts and knees to his new Owner. Just as the muzzle was supposed to, it allowed Eric’s manhood to slip easily inside. The fake rubber tongue massaged the length, but it certainly didn’t feel as good as his Puppy-Pa’s actual tongue and mouth pleasuring him. Grasping the floppy ears, he skull-fucked the puppy and until he shot thick ropes down Jae’s throat.

The puppy cringed, tasting the tang of tobacco and nicotine on his Master. He couldn’t love it any less, wagging his bare ass and showing obvious joy in obeying. Eric ruffled his receding hair, feeling a sense of pride at owning such an obedient pup. “I think it’s your turn, Big Pa. Flip that card!” Eric had to control the urge to order him around too much, still lusting after the aging slob.

Al was only able to pull his hand away from his cock, still pulling the dildo in and out of his ass, and flipped the card:

~~Auction~~

Each player must put in a bid. This number represents the number of years they are willing to regress, and IQ points they are willing to lose. No one’s age may drop below 17.

  • The winner of the auction becomes the new key holder after paying their bid. If they were already the key holder, nothing happens. If a new key holder is chosen, they may reassign the gear according to their desires.
  • The second highest bid gains a number of pounds equal to their bid times five.
  • The lowest bid receives a previous change of which affected the winner. The winner is no longer affected by that change.

The card started counting down from a minute, the letters swirling as the seconds passed, and each player, to the best of their abilities, came up with a bid that they thought they could manage to pay, and when the card reached zero, it went blank for a moment. They weren’t sure if they were just supposed to say their bids out loud, but the card revealed the first result for them: The second highest bidder was Al, with 47 points. He will gain 235 pounds.

Al watched in horror as his already massive frame started to bloat even further. He had already crested 500 pounds after aging into his seventies, but as he watched, his bulbous gut pushed forward ever further, angry red stretch marks covering his body as it did. The gut pushed his thighs apart, so he was forced to splay them wide, but he didn’t even know if he had the energy to stand, much the less fuck himself. Still, he found that he was able to rock back and forth well enough on the dildo, and his mass of fat actually pressed in on his cock. It felt–surprisingly good, and he soon zoned out, focusing more on his ass than on the cards.

Of course, Eric and Jae knew their bids, and knew their fates before the card even revealed them next. Jae is the winner with a bid of 50. Pay your bid.

“I’ll pay 35 years of my age, and 15 points off my IQ,” Jae said in reply. He had a moment to regret the fact that he’d won–with his already low IQ he was going to be nearly as stupid as Al–who was, he realized, now his father as well as Eric’s. Still, he didn’t have much time to think about it, as his brain drained away. The only thing left, it seemed, was an endless repository of porn stars, sex acts, and the endless compulsion to fuck and masturbate. He drooled a little bit out of the muzzle, but it disappeared a moment later along with the chastity device, and he took the opportunity to jack his cock, cumming in a matter of seconds, relieved to be free again. His asshole older brother–he hated him for that, for making him his fucking pet. Well he’d show him.

“As the new, uh… key guy, I want Eric to have the puppy stuff, Pa to have the chastity device, and Eric can have the butt plug, too!”

Eric tried to object, but he didn’t get a word out before the muzzle wrapped his mouth, and his hands became encased in the mitts that he’d forced on his brother in the last round. He let out something that resembled more of a yip than a shout, when he felt the plug force it’s way into his ass. Looking over his shoulder, from where he was on his hands and knees now, he saw his tail there, and he gave it a wag, panting as he felt the thick, nine inch dildo it was attached to wiggle in his ass, his puppy cock leaking on the floor.

“‘N lastly, I want Eric to take that…that youth or experience point thing from me.”

Nothing happened for a moment, and the card swirled with ink. The game cannot regress you any younger. However, the game can still restore your IQ, and have both the age and IQ drop affect Eric. Is this fine with you?

“Yeah yeah, sure, whatever,” Jae said, “Just make him stupid would you? Whoa, hey, I can…kinda think again…” Jae felt the mental cloud hanging over him lift a bit. His head wasn’t working as well as it had at first, but it was certainly better than before, but his puppy, well, he was simply staring up at him dumbly, panting, wagging it’s dildo tail and whining at him. He had put on quite a few years as well, looking to be in his fifties now. He realized that he was now the son, and Eric his father, but he didn’t mind the change.

“What is it dad, do you need a fucking?”

From the look on Eric’s face, he did, but it was something else, too. He put a mitt up on the table and nudged his cigars, and kept whining.

“Oh, right. Well, how about I fuck you while you smoke, dad?”

Eric jumped up and down, barking, and presented his tail to Jae, who lit a cigar, shoved it in Eric’s muzzle, and then pulled out his tail and went to town. His dad’s hole was so loose, after being plugged up all the time, he loved it, and he creamed it three times in quick succession, before sliding the tail back in and returning to the table. Al, through it all, had just sat there dumbly, his cock now caged. He was starving, and the game had conjured a pile of junk food which he was slowly demolishing, his cock leaking the entire time into his gunt.

“Well, I suppose it’s my turn again, eh?” Jae said, flipping over the second to last card.

~~“What Are You Wearing?”~~

The drawer must choose one of the three options for each player.

  • The player now wears diapers 24/7. They generally act like a baby, even in public.
  • The player can only wear clothes made out of rubber or leather.
  • The player can only wear dirty laundry which has been worn by someone else.

Jae looked down at his puppy-father, still delightfully dumb and messing his legs and the floor with his doggy cum. He was already wearing some nice leather gear, so why let him have all the fun? “I’ll take the rubber and leather one. A pup has to match his owner, right?” The crusty tank he had been sporting nearly the entire game started to smooth out, the yellowing spots dissipating as it became a solid rubber tank. The white sheen glistened in the low light of the basement, and his erect nipples stuck straight through the material. He tweaked them, moaning as his shorts fell away, leaving a leather jock in its place. A solid silver zipper ran down the seam of the pouch, holding in his leaking cock. From there, his forearms became encased in leather bands with thick straps tying the ends closed. Atop his head, he felt a muir cap settle. The feeling was oh-so familiar, as if he’d worn it his entire life. His previous curse of never washing his clothes was still in-effect, and constant fuck sessions and perspiration from activity in his gear filled the room with stank.

Finally, his toes wiggled happily in a flawless pair of pitch-black boots with enormous rubber soles. He looked at his blob of a Grandpa, snickering, remembering the first time he’d dug through the sick old man’s closet and found the gear. Must have been from his younger days when he could play with the big boys.

Yeah, the big boys… “Hey, Big Pa, I think you should sport a fancy diaper, right? Relive some of that lost youth.” Al heard the tell-tale crinkle of the giant diaper forming around his fat form. It was uncanny that such a size of diaper existed, but he felt no different about it than his chastity device. Of course he wore a diaper! It went so well with his binky. He pulled from the remains of junk-food trash a pink rubber pacifier, plopping it in his drooling maw and suckled happily, settling his fat back against the creaking chair. So relaxing, so endearing to just give in to the old days. The younger bears loved cradling him in a reinforced sling, feeding him, and even changing his diaper after he messed himself.

“Nnngg…” Al started to struggled, shifting in his seat, and suddenly remember how much cola he had chugged down. Without another thought (if any remained), he felt the flood-gates open and the delightful warmth spread through him. His thighs were dripping, his crack quickly filling with musky liquid gold. He had been a good boy, relieving himself like that in front of the others. He wasn’t ashamed, not even as he poked his diaper and sloshed the contents around.

Jae wanted to be disgusted, he wanted to retch, but seeing his Grandpa regress so much only made his cock explode inside the jock. He reached under the strap to spread the cum around, only pulling it out to feed to his obedient pup.

“I guess that leaves the recycled clothing for you, boy.”

Eric slurped his Master’s hand clean before tilting his head in confusion, suddenly weighed down by a new sensation. His naked body was covered in the filthy clothes Jae was wearing before turning into the perfect Gear-stud. On top of that, a grimy jean-jacket from an unknown place. All Eric knew was how rank it smelled. He raised an arm to sniff the denim through his muzzle, gagging, but still leaking and needy from the very thought of soaking in someone else’s leftover attire. His feet (or back paws as he began to think of them) nestled into a pair of stiff dress socks.

Jae caught the pup’s attention, shoving his heavy boot into his dad’s balls. The force was subtle at first, slowly increasing, and making the obedient bitch whimper louder and more high-pitched. After spurting once more, dirtying the spotless boots, Jae compelled the pup to clean them right away. The muzzle could open enough for his tongue to reach the delicious leather, cleaning away the dirty globs while he savored the tang of cow-hide. In the same motion, Jae reached over to his Big Pa and squeezed the disgusting adult baby’s chastity cage through the diaper, forcing more piss to leak from between his legs as the pressure was reallocated.

Al could only suck harder on his binky, moaning, writhing, and relishing in the feeling of being so wet and turned on. If only his pudgy dick wasn’t encased as it was, he’d fill his diaper with another surprise.

Jae looked down at his hungry, eager slut-pup, and smirked. “It’s your turn, isn’t it? You able to draw, fuck-puppy? Eric whined and pawed at Jae’s cock with his mitts, barking in excitement. “Yeah, I guess I can draw for you. Be a good boy and hump Big Pa’s leg while I take of your turn.

~~Life Goes On~~

All three players will vote on their new lives. The one with the most votes will be carried out, and the game will end.

  • Daddy’s Den – Jae is the daddy of a bear bar,  his father, Eric acting as his guard-dog and lover. Grandpa Al is a paid attraction for patrons of the bar to visit, babysit, and fuck as they please in a giant playroom in the back.
  • Hog Wild – The family become the heads of a travelling bike gang, with Jae as the leader. Eric will act as the gang’s fuck-toy, and Grandpa Al is the “trainer” for new recruits.

Like the auction prior, the three of them only had to think about their vote for the card to start writing again, giving each of their votes in turn. and the card started with Eric. Eric: Daddy’s Den. As much as Eric disliked Jae, he thought life would be a bit easier as a guard dog in a bar, than riding around all over the place. The card then added below that, Al: Hog Wild. As much as Al…enjoyed being a baby, he didn’t really find the idea of being a permanent attraction all that thrilling. That made it a tie, and the two of them turned to Jae, who smiled as the card added Jae: Daddy’s Den. He was happy to be 17 again–but to be honest, he’d liked how it had felt to be a bit older. He wasn’t sure how the cards would make him into a “Daddy” of course, but he was surprisingly eager to find out.

His question was answered soon enough–he felt his body start itching a bit as he furred up by an impressive margin–not as furry as his puppy Pa, of course–though Jae noticed that Eric’s hair was actually coming in thicker. In fact, by the time this was all finished, he wouldn’t have been surprised if his body ended up with as much hair as dog’s usually had. However, while Al and Eric remained massive fat–just how Jae liked them both–he was bulking up in a different way–muscles pushing out against his well worn leather gear. He realized he wasn’t actually aging a day over seventeen though, and he realized that ten years down the road, he was going to be an absolute beast, probably like his dad.

The room was vibrating now, at first just slow enough to make him seasick if he tried to keep an eye on it, but soon it was going by so fast it was just a blur, and then he was seated at a table in a moderately sized bar, and Al and Eric were nowhere to be found. Well, Eric was easy–his old dog was right where he’d left him, in the metal dog-house he’d built for his dad to live in. The bar was actually his, but Jae was taking over for him. He’d progressed far enough in his obedience classes that he was ready and eager to live as Jae’s dog full time now, and he couldn’t be more excited. Collared and wearing his master’s filthy cast off clothing, Eric padded out in his mitts, muzzle and collar, picked up a massive dildo in his mouth and crawled over to Jae, setting it down in front of him, whimpering.

“I know you want to play Eric, but I gotta get the bar ready for tonight.”

Eric barked, but Jae just stared him down, and a bit downtrodden and disappointed, he picked up his dildo and padded back over to his doghouse where he laid down in a bit of a huff.

Jae could still remember a bit of what had happened to all of them, but it was fading rather quick, becoming more like a dream than his actual life. He stood up from the table when he heard someone start crying, and he stepped into a back room which had been completely redecorated into a nursery, where in a massive playpen, Al was sitting on his fat ass, bawling his eyes out.

“I know you need your diaper changed Al, but you have to wait. I have you rented out to a biker gang tonight, and they want you dirty tonight–it’s in the agreement,” Jae said, and then he pulled a massive baby bottle over and handed it to his grandpa, “here, drink your gainer shake, it’ll make you feel better.”

He hefted up the bottle and shoved it in Al’s mouth, and the massive man started suckling on it, his eyes dulling and glazing over as he drank down the fattening shake from his grandson. Figuring that would probably keep him occupied, and that the laxatives he’d added would make sure the bikers would be having plenty of fun later, he went out and started setting up for happy hour, but Eric wouldn’t stop whining and looking at him in despair. He checked the clock and gave a sigh–he did need to play with his dog, he hadn’t fucked him all day, and he knew how Eric got when he hadn’t had a load of his master’s cum up his ass in a while. “Alright, alright boy, I’m coming!” Jae said, and Eric started jumping and woofing, before turning around and presenting his ass for his son. Sure, it wasn’t exactly easy owning two slaves and running a bar at 17, but Jae realized as he fucked his dad’s sloppy hole, listening to him yip and yowl, that there wasn’t anything else in the world he’d rather be doing.

Interactive – Transformation Contagion #1

Art climbed out of his car in the driveway, loosening his tie as he did, and with his briefcase in hand, he headed up the front steps. He seems rather hurried and nervous, and fumbled with his keys, dropping them once before he managed to get them into the lock on the door to let himself in. On the surface, Art is a fairly normal middle aged man. A bit portly and balding slightly, working as a manager in a corporate office of a large bank–he was someone most people ignored–but in the privacy of his own home, the truth was that Art was a complete and total pervert and voyeur, and it just so happened that today he’d received a strange gift, and he’d left the office early to come home and test it out.

He pulled the rather dull spectacles from his shirt pocket and turned them over in his hands, wondering if he’d been hoodwinked. Still, there was only one way to find out, wasn’t there? He looked out his window, and saw that his neighbor, Walt, was mowing his lawn–and Art leered at him. Art didn’t have many standards–and even fewer boundaries. He’d jack off to anything, if given the chance–he’d never found a fetish that didn’t turn him on, but especially loved the mere act of unknown observation. He put on the glasses and stepped outside, wandering across the street to where Walt was working and started shouting and waving to get his neighbor’s attention–but Walt ignored him, as though he were invisible–which it turned out, he was.

He jumped for joy–already ecstatic, but wanted to try out the rest of the glasses’ powers since he had a subject right in front of him. Apparently, so long as he was aroused, he would be able to manipulate and warp whoever he was jacking off to into whatever sort of person he wanted them to become. He unzipped his khakis and pulled out his dick, staring lustfully at his oblivious neighbor, and decided he’d turn him into exhibitionist bear. Immediately, most of Walt’s clothing disappeared, aside from a pair of short, cut-off denim shorts, and hair began sprouting all over the place, front and back, and a massive, bushy beard erupted out of his cheeks and chin. The crotch of his shorts bulged out, and Art ogled his new neighbor, loving the extent of the changes, and then shot his load all over the newly cut grass. He took a few moments to catch his breath on the sidewalk, and just kept watching as Walt finished the lawn, parked the mower inside, and then headed in for a drink.

It worked–it really fucking worked. Art couldn’t believe it, and he knew just where he wanted to use it next. He lived a few blocks away from a college campus, and the house next door to him was always rented out to college students. This newest crop was all young men Walt had already spent day’s fantasizing about–two twin brothers, a muscular jock, and a more preppy, rich nerd. He was growing a bit bored though, so he decided he’d change all four of them in some way or another. He headed over, and let himself into the house.

Unknown to him, Walt’s son had been home with his father when he went back into the house. He’d had a short moment to gawk at his father’s new look, before he’d felt his body start itching as hair grew in across his body as well. Before he really knew what was happening, his father had him against the wall, pressing their hairy bodies together, as they made out, his son slowly converted into his father’s obedient cub. See, the glasses did more than change people–it’s contagious. Not everyone effected changes people in the same way though, if it mutates. But now that Art has unleashed it, what’s going to happen to the twins Art found playing video games in the living room of the house?

~~~

Take your pick!

1. He decides to play with their ages. He makes one of them a daddy in his 50’s and the other his chubby cubson. They will have the tendency to incorporate everyone they meet into their growing family, often changing their ages wildly in doing so.

2. He’s always hated how similar the two of them look–he decides he’ll make them into opposites–one a buff muscular hunk, and the other into a hairy, obese bear. Everyone they come into contact with will find their body shifting into something completely alien to whom they were before.

3. He wants to see the two of them in some more revealing gear–one will be forced to wear leather, and the other rubber, for the rest of their lives. Everyone they come into contact with will find themselves looking more like they belong in a fetish club, than on the street.

Most of you probably remember how this works. You can submit your preferred answer in the box below, or send me an ask, IM or email. Whichever gets the most votes, is the one I’ll write. So, what do you all want to see?