Category: Uncategorized

Matt pulled into the rest area needing two things–a cigarette and a piss. Unfortunately, he’d smoked his last one fifty miles back, and he was desperate for another one. Still, he could at least take a piss before worrying about that.

The only other guy in the restroom was a huge, imposing redneck at a urinal. He had to be close to seven feet tall, and thickly muscled. Matt felt rather inadequate standing next to him, especially when he caught a peek of his huge cock. He stared for a few seconds before the man asked, “Like what ya see?”

Matt blushed and shook his head no, the redneck chuckling as though he were used to that reaction, before leaving the bathroom. Completely embarrassed, Matt finished up and left as well, but soon found that the parking lot was completely empty, aside from the redneck’s truck. He couldn’t really ask him, not after that, but god he needed a cigarette.

“Hey, do…do you have a cigarette?”

“So ya are interested then. Ya can suck me off in the woods if ya want.”

“No…No, really. I’m sorry, I just need a cigarette.”

“Oh…suit yerself then. All I got is chaw.” He pulled a metal tin from his back pocket, opened it up and presented it to Matt, “Go on, it ain’t gonna bite ya, bro. You’ll like it.”

Mike gave the man a glance of suspicion, but took a wad of the tobacco. He felt a near immediate rush of nicotene when he stuffed it in his lip…but also something else. Looking down, he could see his small gut start to shrink back into his stomach, as hair grew in all over his body. Unsteady on his feet, he felt almost as if he were being stretched, and was overcome with vertigo as he passed six and a half feet and kept climbing. He tried to get away and spit out the tobacco, but it tasted so good he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

His clothes shifted into a western style denim vest and jeans, size eighteen cowboy boots, and his crotch began to bulge out obscenely. As the onrush of horniness overwhelmed his mind, he dropped to near idiot IQ. His last thought was a realization that he now looked identical to the redneck next to him. “Fuck man, that’s hell of a rush,” he said with a drawl thick enough to match his new friend’s voice.

“Nah bro, that’s nothin’ compared tah this,” the redneck said, leaned in and started kissing his twin, swapping tobacco spit as sexy memories flooded Matt’s head about his twin brother Jack.

“Damn Jake, ya sure know how tah get me goin’. How’s about we finish this in the woods?” Matt said, groping his ten inch cock.

“Sound’s good tah me bro, soun’ds damn good tah me. But yer suckin’, I’m horny as fuck.”

Tim was a gambling addict, but Tim had a problem–he was broke, and no one would lend him money anymore. You can imagine his excitement when he heard about a new kind of slot machine which didn’t require money to play, but will promised real winnings. Of course, he didn’t read the fine print, and after a few spins, he quickly realized he was gambling with his body and life. 

He took a moment, and told himself he should stop while he was only a bit behind. He’d just gained 50 more pounds on a bad bet, but told himself he couldn’t stop until he he’d won back his straightness. Unfortunately, he never got there. When the casino security finally dragged him away, he was over five hundred pounds, had aged into his sixties, with an impotent, two inch cock. Of course, Tim never did learn his lesson–some addicts never do. You can still find him out back behind the casino, selling five buck blow jobs to random strangers so he can keep trying to win it all back.

Here at WaleMart, we have spent several years trying to capture shoppers belonging to a wider variety of demographics, yet our core consumers, and our most reliable shoppers, still share a few, common qualities: they come from lower income households, are overweight or obese, and possess IQs below 100. However, rather than struggle to attract other demographics, Walemart will embark on a bold new approach–bringing these shoppers into our core demographic.

Here we see a man being assisted by one of our helpful new demographic associates, trying on clothes which have been treated with special chemicals which, even now, are causing weight gain, as well as promoting hunger, encouraging a trip through our grocery aisles once he’s finally settled into his 54 inch waist overalls. The food itself is not only laced with addictive chemicals, but also decreases intelligence with repeated consumption. With time, his lack of energy and diminished faculties will force him out of the upper income bracket he currently occupies, and he will be one more loyal WaleMart customer cemented in our key demographic for life.

He keeps staring at you…you think. It’s hard to tell with those strange lenses in his mask. He’s watched you since you arrived at the bar, and the mesmerizing attraction you feel towards him is easily countered by his strange, not-quite-human movements. You decide to leave–but he follows you, grabs you and drags you into an alley, stripping away your clothes with amazing strength.

His red cock spews a strange, black liquid onto your flesh, and when you try to wipe it off, you realize it is latex which had already adhered to your body. He pumps more and more, coating you, bringing you under his physical control, and when all that remains uncovered is your mouth, he shoves in his cock and begins pumping the latex into your body. 

It is a strange sensation, feeling your stomach and lungs fill with fluid until they burst in your chest. No longer able to breathe, you sense, more than know, that you should be dead–but strangely you can still think. You feel the rubber flowing directly into you now, filling your chest cavity, coating your muscles–your heart pumping liquid rubber to every inch of your body for a minute before stopping all together. 

You sense that you are full, and yet still it flows, and you begin growing. The rubber pulses and bubbles under your skin before layering on top of your muscles and bones, expanding them to inhuman proportions, your veins bulging from your black, shiny skin. Your cock grows as well, dropping down and growing to nearly two feet long, with massive balls suspended beneath. They feel surprisingly heavy, and a moment later a strange liquid begins to pump from your cock–the fleshy pump of your own body. Only one part of you now remains–your brain–but not for long, you realize. Your new body is nearly complete–and the rubber is already creeping up and over your fleshy mind.

You imagine that it will simply coat it, but when the headache starts, you discover that it has no intention of allowing you to continue thinking. It is crushing you. Destroying your brain, turning it into pump to be discarded and replacing it with a small, rubberized computer. It isn’t much, but it need only regulate a few simple tasks. You no longer need to think–only obey. The red man removes his cock and the last rubber seals your mouth shut. You stand, the last of your humanity dribbling from your now hollow balls. They can now be filled through your anus with any liquid one might desire pumped from your massive cock. The master’s will enjoy pumping you full of their cum, before having you serve it to their prisoners and human slaves in training. You do not care–you only serve, and you follow your compatriot to your master’s lair, where you will serve for eternity.

For most athletes, college football is as high as they go, if they aren’t planning on going pro–and at a division III school, no one ever goes pro. It was the eve of their final game of the year, and someone (the prankster never revealed themselves, but it had to have been someone from the team, they thought) had left the box of shirts at the party house that night. 

Laughing and already drunk, all of the football players had put them on, and when they woke up the next morning, hungover and aching, they saw that the shirts hadn’t been joking at all. They were all potbellied, in their thirties, balding, and very confused. When a group of biology students whose experiments they’d sabotaged last year as a prank came by, pretending to be members of the staff, and told them that the reunion was over and they had to get off campus, they had nowhere to go. How could they play, go to class, or even graduate, looking like this? Still, one thing was certain–none of them would play football ever again.

Source: usexybrah

Ned hadn’t had a very happy birthday yesterday. You see, as a greedy child, Ned had been cursed to receive a gift from everyone he met on his birthday–only it was never something Ned wanted. Well, he’d managed to avoid going out on his birthday–but this year had been a mistake. See–he’d paid a gypsy to protect him from the curse, and it had worked for a while–until he’d accidentally wandered past a gay leather bar. 

The sheer force of desire had overcome the gypsy’s protections, and before Ned could escape, he’d taken on so many gifts he could barely process them. Some were small, but others, like a fascination with piss and shit, or the need to have his mouth and face stuffed with filthy dildos–those were going to be harder to manage. He was definitely getting a refund–but that could wait until he’d found his master. He’d picked up a collar from some unhappy sub–and now all Ned could think about was servicing a Master Jordan. He didn’t look forward to finding out why the sub hadn’t liked his master–but Ned knew he was about to find out.

“Dang son, you smell so good, I could ride you all damn night!" 

Yep, I think I handed out the wrong drinks, judging from the horny looks on my dad’s friends’ faces as they close in around us, but my cock was so hard, thinking about how it would feel to serve them, I don’t care.

I’d bought the pheromones to prank my asshole father, who loved calling me a faggot and a pussy. He was the one who was supposed to get the Beta drink, but they’d all looked the same, and maybe I’d flipped the tray when I’d brought down the beers…

Dad pulled down my shorts as Uncle Willis shoved his thick cock down my throat, and I nearly came from that dominant thrust alone. The pills would last for 24 hours, but hey, I might as well make the best of a bad situation right? In fact, maybe being a faggot isn’t so bad after all, I think as my dad’s cock enters my ass, and I cum uncontrollably for the first of many times that night.

Love the new little Marcus beard story! The idea of a big beard with a mind of it’s own is very hot and can go in so many directions. I keep imagining the beard using it’s hair tentacles to force feed the guy till he’s a big bear of a man. Then they start forcing more interesting things in his mouth. hehe.

I’ve been getting a lot of calls to extend this one, so you can probably expect to see some more of Marcus in the future.

Ethics? Why should I care about ethics? I’m a scientist, and what I have done here is genius, a solution to a grave problem we all face. We are awash with criminals–our prisons filling up, and those who are released often return within months. I have only sought to find a way to make the world a safer place for the rest of us.

What is a man, really, beyond an animal? These men–these beasts–have already signaled that they have disregarded their higher human faculties. They have no desire to create, or love, or respect one another. I have simply forced them to become that which they already are.

Animalization is the solution. Sure, it might be painful, but they have no memory of it after the operation. My dog Bruiser was frolicking about the yard in days. Sure, he required a fair amount of training, but where before there was only a vicious skinhead–who I should mention, murdered by husband in cold blood–there was now a pet completely loyal to me. 

Sentence me as you will, but I will never believe that what I did was wrong. These men are monsters–beasts. I say we treat them that way.

Source: leepup