The Carnival (Part 1) [Interactive]

Thanks to everyone who voted in my Patreon poll to help structure this interactive story! The top two vote getters were a hypnosis show and a fun house, and the third, chosen by a commissioner, was the tunnel of love. The first half of the story is going to follow a group of frat brothers around the carnival and these attractions, and then the second half is going to check in on the the next morning, to see how the carnival affected them all after the fact. The second part might also be less interactive, depending on the choices made while the guys move thorough the carnival, but we’ll see how things shape up!

“This place is bigger than I’d expected.”

“No kidding.”

The frat brothers wandered in through the entry gate of the carnival that had set up on the outskirts of the small college town for the weekend. They had expected a little ramshackle affair, but the set up was actually impressive–with a full blown rollercoaster, a long midway full of food and games, several tents set up for shows of several varieties, and it seemed to them that the entire town was there to enjoy it.

“So…what should we do first?”

As a group, they wandered down the midway towards the tents, just taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the attractions, but it wasn’t long before their attentions was grabbed by a loud and obnoxious barker standing in front of a large tent.

“Come one, come all, come witness the marvelous skills of our carnival’s hypnotist, Dr. Watch! No one can resist his spell. Come witness the astounding changes he can bring about in his subjects–Dr. Watch can bend even the strongest of wills with his hands like putty–you there!” he said, pointing at the boys passing by, “Why don’t you see for yourselves?”

“Hypnotism?” one of the brothers, Jared, said, “That shit isn’t real.”

The barker laughed at him. “How do you know? Do you think you have a strong enough mind to resist the wiles of the good doctor?”

Now that he’d been challenged, Jared didn’t have much of a choice, especially with the rest of the house now goading him on. They all decided to file into the tent together to watch the show, and after a few minutes, the lights dimmed, and a older fellow, dressed in a rather anachronistic suit, complete with a monocle and and a glinting, golden chain hanging from his vest, welcomed his audience, and introduced himself as Dr. Watch.

“Now,” he said, “I have already gone to the trouble of choosing tonight’s victims–*ahem* participants,” he said, to chuckles from the audience, and groans from Jared and a few others. “As a matter of fact, they all know that they have been chosen–even if they aren’t quite aware of it yet.” He tugged the watch from his pocket, and spun it on the chain, sending flickers of ligt out into the audience. “Why don’t you all come on up to the stage please?”

Jared, without knowing why, felt himself stand up suddenly, and start pushing his way to the aisle–as did two other brothers from the frat, all of them looking around confused. Jared did his best to stop his feet from moving, but all he could do was slow them to a silly looking shuffle, as the rest of the audience laughed at his attempt at resistance. It couldn’t be possible–he’d never seen the doctor before in his life–how could he be hypnotized? A minute later, the three frat brothers–Jared, Alan, and Roger were standing up on stage with three other men from the audience.

Dr. Watch thanked them all for volunteering, and everyone laughed. Jared tried to object and complain that all of this wasn’t fair, that he’d been tricked somehow, but he couldn’t say anything at all–and both Alan and Roger looked as confused and uncomfortable as he was. Dr. Watch said it was time to get down to business. One by one, he brought the six men forward, and used a different method to put them under–some with his watch, others with his voice–and Jared, who protested mightly, he put under with a single press of his forefinger to Jared’s forehead, leaving him swaying and drooling slightly before the howls of the crowd before him.

“Now, why don’t we have a bit of fun with our victims up here? Something to show them just how powerful hypnosis can be. Of course, hypnosis can only work if the subject is cooperative–but we don’t have to worry about that, right? After all, obeying my voice feels so good–and all of you want to feel good, don’t you?”

The six men nodded in agreement.

“Good. And now, onto the show!”

So, what sort of shenanigans does Dr. Watch have in mind for his six contestants?

He makes them all act like animals.
He makes the frat brothers behave like the townfolk on stage.
The show is X-Rated, and Dr. Watch starts directing a sex scene.

Here’s the public Twitter poll!

Here’s the supporter only Patreon Poll!

Polls close in 48 hours!

Emptied Out (Part 4)

Nathan woke up to something being thrown in his face–something that reeked. He pushed it away with a gag, and found the passenger side door open, and Biff standing there. The things he’d given him were clothes–or rather, just a pair of underwear. A set of briefs, heavily stained in the front and the back. “Put ‘em on boy, ‘n let’s git ya inside.”

“I’m not wearing these,” he said, holding them away from him.

“All I got boy–’n if ya don’t wanna wear ‘em, ya’ll just have tah cross the complex ass out.”

“Fuck, give me a fag,” Nathan said, irritated, “I need a smoke to think.”

“Put the briefs on, and I’ll let you light up.”

Nathan growled in frustration, swung his legs out, and struggled into the briefs. They were tight on him–clearly they were Biff’s, but he wore a size larger than daddy did at this point. Nathan shook his head, pushing the memory away. It wasn’t his bulk, this wasn’t real. He stood up, feeling the whities riding up his sweaty asscrack. He considered making a break for it, but he had no idea where he was, and a morbidly obese man running around in his underwear wasn’t going to make him any friends here. He took the fag Biff gave him, relieved for smoke, and was thinking clearer when they got to his tiny, filthy apartment–and the stench of the briefs was nothing compared to the smell inside.

There were pizza boxes and fast food bags littered everywhere, and nothing looked like it had been cleaned in ages. Furniture was minimal, with most of the space dedicated to a couch and a large TV, with a computer off to the side–hopefully with an internet connection. It would be his best chance to get help, probably, unless he could get to a phone. Biff tore the rest of the rags off of him, leaving him in just the loaned whities, his massive gut hanging out now with no obstruction.

“Git in the bathroom, boy, that mop has gotta go.”

“What?” Nathan asked.

“The hair, son. Don’t ya want a good buzz like yer daddy?” Biff said, running a hand over his head. “Ya will soon enough, so let’s git ya buzzed–or else no fags, and no soda, either.”

Thinking about the soda made his gut growl. How could he possibly still be hungry after everything he’d eaten today? Still, his gut wasn’t lying, and his fag was already half gone. It was just hair–best to cooperate for now, and see if he got an opportunity to use the computer later.

The bathroom was somehow even dirtier than the rest of the apartment. Biff told him to stand in the shower, and from the layer of fine hair coating the tub, it was clear it hadn’t been used for a proper shower in quite a while. Biff grabbed the clippers by the sink, and started attacking Nathan’s hair–the blades hadn’t been oiled in a while, making them hot to the touch, and they kept pulling at his hair, but before long Biff had his hair razored down to nothing, just a layer of fuzz. He ran his hand over Nathan’s head, and saw the boy shiver in the whities he was wearing.

“Feel good, boy?”

“Y-yeah, it kind of does…”

“Yeah, ain’t nothin’ quite like a freshly buzzed head,” Biff said, rubbing it slowly, standing closer to him so their bellies pressed together. Nathan had expected it to feel disgusting, but it was comfortable, and…familiar somehow. “Lookin’ real good Nate, gotta say–real happy with ya so far.”

“My name isn’t Nate, don’t call me that.”

“Best just get used to it boy–ya ain’t gonna be gettin’ away from me, not now.” He took a drag off his cigarette, leaned in and fed Nathan his smoke, and the two of them passing it back and forth a few times, until Nathan got a bit lightheaded, feeling his cock pressing hard against his gut. Biff stepped into the tub with him, pushing more of his fat against him, and pinning him to the wall, one hand holding his cigarette, taking long drags of smoke to feed Nathan, his other hand reaching under his boy’s huge gut and rubbing his cock through his crusty whities. Nathan was trying to keep himself calm, but everytime he started to push away, Biff would shove him back, and rub his hand over his shaved skull, making him shiver and buck against his hand. “Go on boy, do it,” Biff whispered to him, “Shoot a big load right intah yer daddy’s filthy whities, I wanna see how wet ya can get em, ya fat fuckin’ pig.”

None of that should have made him horny, but Nathan lost control, rutting harder against Biff’s hand, feeling himself fast approaching the point of no return. The cum spilled out of him, and he felt the comfortable blankness washing back over him, Biff plucking the cigarette from between his sagging lips before it fell onto their guts and burned them.

“Yeah, such a good boy for daddy, Nate–we’re gonna have you all empty here soon, don’t you worry about a thing. Now come on, I wanna show ya the thing ya love tah do most in the world with daddy, even more than smokin’ fags ‘n stuffin’ that pig face a yers.”

Emptied Out (Part 3)

“Hot smoker, just like yer daddy,” Biff said, and pushed some smoke in Nathan’s direction. It…smelled different, coming from him. Hotter, somehow, and he blew some of it back, his hand slipping back down to his crotch, thinking about how horny he always got, trading smoke with his daddy like a couple of perverts. Biff noticed, but didn’t say anything, just kept pushing smoke in his direction, watching Nathan slowly lose focus, groping himself more and more, his hand slipping into his still damp khakis to stroke himself properly. He finished his second cigarette, and came back to himself for a bit, pulling his hand away, but he only lasted half an hour before asking daddy for another.

“Sorry boy. Ya want another cigarette from me, you’re gonna have to shoot a load. That, or ya gotta give me some good road head.”

The idea of getting anywhere near Biff’s cock horrified him, and he wasn’t about to jack off again…but he needed a cigarette. Biff kept pushing smoke in his direction, and it was maddening, and hot and sexy, and his hand slipped back down. What harm was there in…one little cum shot? It wasn’t so bad, right? Biff kept sending him smoke, and watched him give in, stroking faster now, until after a couple of minutes he shot again, and just like before, Nathan went slack, eyes glazed over and mouth hanging open.

“Emptied yerself out again, Nate?”

“Yes daddy…” he muttered.

Biff took the next exit off the highway into a small town, “Good, I was gettin’ hungry. Let’s get us both filled back up, eh?”

There was a fast food joint right by the off ramp, and he pulled into the drive through, and the guy taking the order thought it was a joke at first, Biff ordered so much food. It took a little while to get everything, but before too long, they were parked, with bags and bags of burgers and fries–with plenty of soda to wash it down. Biff pulled out a burger and put it to Nate’s mouth. “Go on Nate–feed that big ol’ gut a yers.” Nate mindlessly took a bite, chewing slowly and swallowing. Biff grabbed one of his slack hands and put it on the burger to hold it. “Faster boy. Ya eat like a fuckin’ pig. Don’t care how messy ya get, ya just need it in ya.”

Nate started eating faster now, and Biff kept encouraging him, reminding him to take plenty of drinks of soda–after all, he loved soft drinks, and anything sweet. He was hungry, always hungry, even hungrier than his dad, usually. Hell, he was fatter than his dad was even–he could remember how proud he was the day his gut sagged down even lower than his dad’s did, couldn’t he? Nate kept trying to agree, but his mouth was too busy shoveling in food for any of it to be intelligible. He ate and ate, his gut expanding at a rapid pace as he did, the buttons on his shirt popping off one by one, the undershirt riding up as his gut dropped between his thighs, his pants stretched to the limit as he grew larger and larger. He became more animated, slowly, Nathan coming back to the fore as he filled himself back up, but he didn’t stop eating–he couldn’t stop eating, sucking down his soda, and sucking down on his cigarette, of course. He was such a good son, cumming for his daddy, and now he got his reward–another smoke, and a massive fast food meal to boot! It wasn’t until he finished most of the food off–his dad having eaten a sizable portion as well, that he leaned back, let off a belch, and realized just how much bigger he’d become–and realized that they’d stopped moving.

Nathan fumbled with the door handle, and nearly fell out of the van. As he did, he felt a massive shudder in his fat as his khakis, and underwear, finally burst from the pressure, and he was left standing in the parking lot, in full view of the people in the restaurant, naked from the waist down, a massive, hairy apron hanging free…and he didn’t know what to do. He needed to get help, but not like this. He couldn’t possibly let anyone see him like this!

“Son, git yer fat ass back in the damn van!” Biff shouted at him, and Nathan struggled to resist.

“You…you aren’t my dad! This…this can’t be real, I’m just imagining this. I can’t…actually be this big,” he muttered, hefting his gut and letting it fall, feeling it thwack against his thick thighs. “I mean…I eat lots, but…but not like this.”

“Boy, git back in the van.”

“No. No, I’m not…going anywhere else with you.”

Biff sighed, “Boy, git back in the van, and we’ll go ‘round again ‘n git ya some shakes. Ya are still hungry, ain’t ya? One a every flavor–enough tah git ya home.”

HIs gut rumbled like an earthquake, and his mouth watered, thinking about it. Fuck, he was…hungry. So hungry, even though he’d just eaten so much food, he could barely believe it was still inside him. “But…but I…”

“Son, what ya think’s gonna happen when those folk call the cops on ya? Think Master’s gonna be happy when he’s gotta bail yer fat ass outta jail? Probably just leave ya in there with ‘em, ‘n make ya some jailbitch. Now git in the car, ‘n let’s git dessert.”

He was right–there was nothing he could do looking like this–without even any clothes to wear. That…and dessert sounded really damn good. He got back in, surprised by how hard it was maneuvering his huge bulk, and Biff drove him back through, ordering a shake in every flavor as promised–twelve in total–and then headed back for the highway while Nathan sucked down shake after shake, and cigarette after cigarette to go with them. He managed well enough for the rest of the ride at least–though Biff kept ripping off the worst farts Nathan had ever smelled in his life, laughing after every one he made, and refusing to roll the windows down. Thankfully the food made him sleepy, and not too long after finishing the last shake, he passed out for a while, snoring and belching away, Biff reaching over to grope his boy’s massive fat belly occasionally, and then drove into the city, arriving at the small apartment complex where he lived not too long after that, in the evening.

Emptied Out (Part 2)

“Yes daddy,” Nathan said, and Biff put the cigarette between his lips for him, Nathan holding it and smoking it while Biff lit a second one for himself.

“That’s good boy, breathe it in deep, just like I taught ya years ago. Two packs a day, just like yer dad, getting those teeth of yers good ‘n yellow. Yau reek a smoke all the time, and ya love it–makes ya horny as hell, right son?”

Nathan nodded, and kept smoking–and as he did, Greg noticed a few things change about him. For one, the stench of smoke surrounded him, like it did Greg, and he noticed that his teeth, and his fingers, were tinged yellow, just like they would be for a man who’d been smoking for ages. “Lookin’ good Daddy, now finish ‘em up.”

Biff nodded, “Alright boy, keep breathing in all that smoke, and after your next inhale, you’re going to feel completely full again, got it?”

Nate nodded slowly, took a deep breath, and as he did, his eyes refocused, and Nathan came back to himself, exhaled and coughed, unable to understand why he was smoking a cigarette. “What…what the fuck did you do to me?” he said to Greg.

“Well, everytime you cum now, Nathan, you’re going to shoot out a big chunk of yourself–of this self, all that brain and will and memories of being an uptight little prick–and your daddy here is going to get to fill you back up with much, much better stuff–anything he wants, in fact. After five or six loads, you won’t even exist anymore–you’ll just be Nate, and Nate is going to be everything Biff here could want in a nasty, perverse, disgusting pigson in the whole world. How’s that fag taste, anyway?”

Nathan looked down at the cigarette between his fingers, and realized he’d been smoking it this whole time like it was the most natural thing in the world. “No–no, I’m not a smoker, I…” Nathan said, but as he did, it felt wrong. He was a smoker. He fucking loved to smoke, and he…he loved his daddy’s smoke most of all. He looked over at Biff, and before, where he’d seen a complete stranger, he now felt an odd…affinity, or attraction. Definitely an attraction. Looking at him, smoking that unfiltered cigarette, he just wanted to kiss him and suck that smoke right from his lungs…he shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts, but he didn’t know where his real self ended and this new, alien person began. “You can’t do this–you fucking can’t make this happen.”

“Oh, I’m very capable, Nathan, trust me,” Greg said, “But all you have to do is not cum anymore, and there’s nothing I can do–think you can control yourself around your new daddy? Now, why don’t you two head home? I’ll come check on you in a couple of weeks, and if there’s any trace of you left, Nathan, then I’ll fix you right back–I promise. Still, I bet Biff will have you all gone here in a day, and all that’ll be left is his good son Nate.”

Nathan didn’t know how to process any of that, and just looked back and forth, cigarette hanging from his lips, wondering when they would let him in on the joke, but the punchline never came. Biff just ordered him into the van waiting outside, and Nathan’s feet marched him out to it and into the passenger seat, while Biff shared a passionate kiss with Greg on the steps, thanked his boy and master again for the privilege of raising and owning a son of his own, before getting in the driver seat and heading off, getting on the highway and heading for the city about five hours away.

The whole time, Nathan kept smoking. He’d never smoked a cigarette in his life, but every time he took it out and tried to resist inhaling from it, his brain would start screaming, and wouldn’t stop until he took another drag. He finished it in a few minutes, the air on the van cloudy and thick from them hotboxing–and he was forced to ask Biff, his daddy, for another cigarette, though he insisted he call it a fag, before Biff would give him another one, and a lighter to use.

Nathan smoked that one slower, and with the addiction satisfied, he sized up the man who had essentially kidnapped him, and wondered how he might try and escape. It was clear that Greg had some control over him, but Greg wasn’t here–that meant if he could be clever enough, he might be able to get away and get help. Certainly Biff wasn’t in any shape to fight him–he was…huge. He had to be close to 400 pounds, with a massive apron of fat hanging out the bottom of the filthy wifebeater he was wearing, stained with ash and who knew what else. He was hairy, and stank, and looked like this was the first time he’d been outside in ages. Nathan noticed, after he’d been staring at him for a few minutes, that his hand was in his crotch, groping his cock, and he tore his hand away, horrified that looking at this disgusting man was making him horny.

Biff noticed, and grinned around his cigarette. “Go ahead boy–it’s healthy fer a perverted boy like ya are tah jack off lookin’ at yer daddy.”

He felt his hand drawn back to his crotch, but he resisted the urge–while Biff had some power over him, it wasn’t nearly as urgent as Greg’s control had been earlier. He could beat this, if he kept his head about him. He didn’t reply, and averted his eyes, trying to focus on nothing in particular, and he ended up thinking about his cigarette, and how…good it tasted. He pushed out a couple of thick plumes from his nose, like Biff had earlier, and felt that horny twinge return again.

Emptied Out (Part 1)

Nathan gave a start, and realized what he’d heard that had woken him up was someone knocking on the door of the small house he was renting with a few other students on campus. He’d been waiting for his dad to arrive and drive him home for the summer–the only other person still waiting was Greg–the housemate he detested the most. Every living situation had a bad egg, but Greg was worst than most–refusing to clean up after himself, getting everything filthy, smoking cigarettes and drinking in his room, and Nathan had even caught him masturbating in the living room to porn once. He was vile, and he was sitting in the chair across from Nathan on the sofa, just smiling–and giving him the creeps.

The house was empty except for them, their other two housemates had left the day before, carpooling to the airport, and that had left Nathan alone with Greg since then…and he’d been a bit stranger than he usually was. On top of that, Nathan had noticed that he’d been zoning out off and on–almost always while Greg was in the room with him. If he focused, he could…almost remember them having conversations, but if he thought too hard about it, he always seemed to get a headache.

“I think that’s your dad, Nathan,” Greg said, still not letting the grin down.

“Yeah, probably,” he said, got up, and straightened out his ironed shirt and khakis. Unlike his roommate, Nathan took good care of himself–went to the gym, ate healthy meals, and attended all of his classes. His family was rich, and he would admit that he could act a little spoiled because of it, but when it came to people like Greg, they deserved to be reminded of their place in the world–that is, as people much lesser than Nathan. He’d flunk out before even graduating, probably, and Nathan wouldn’t have to think about him ever again–in fact, he’d ask his dad to help him pay for an apartment for himself next year–he didn’t want to get trapped with another terrible housemate like this again. He went to the door and opened it, but it wasn’t his rich father waiting to drive him home in his Tesla on the other side–it was some nasty looking fucker, even dirtier than Greg, with a beat-up van behind him parked in the driveway. “Who the fuck are you?”

The man looked past him to Greg, and grinned, “Is…Is he the one, Master? He looks fun.”

“Yeah daddy, he’s the one you’re getting.”

Nathan just looked from one slob to the other, confused as hell with what was going on.

“He don’t know yet?” the older man asked.

“Nah, daddy,” Greg said, “I like them to find out now, what’s about to happen to them.” He got up from the chair where he was sitting and walked to where Nathan and the man were standing, “Let me introduce you, Nathan. This is Biff, one of my daddy slaves, and the man who is going to be your daddy from now on. Biff has been real good lately, and I thought he deserved a boy of his own as a reward for being such a good slave.”

Biff nodded, and beamed, while Nathan just looked at Greg like he was insane. “Slave? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I know you don’t remember much of it, Nathan, but I’ve been hypnotizing you for months now–isn’t that right, horndog?”

Nathan didn’t know what came over him, but his cock got immediately hard, and he shoved his hand down the front of his pants, stroking himself right in front of them both while they watched, leering, “I…what the fuck is this!”

“This is just the tip of the iceberg, Nathan. We’ve had so much fun together–all of us have. You, me, Hal, and Josh–all of you have been such good little piggies here with me, all semester long. You though–you just never could drop the attitude…well, that and when I saw that picture of your dad, I just new I had to have him as one of mine, which means I need to find a place to keep you.” He paused a moment, and smiled, “You’ll understand everything here in a few moments, once you cum–then daddy Biff here can start filling you back up.”

Filling him up. He…knew those words somehow, but they lacked context–he was sure it wasn’t good though. Nathan did his best to try and control himself and stop masturbating, but he was helpless. He could already feel his load building, and with a muffled groan, his cock exploded in the front of his khakis, leaving a sizable wet spot on the front, but Greg wasn’t looking at his housemate’s crotch–he was looking at his face. As he came, Nathan’s mouth went slack, his eyes unfocused, shoulders slumped forward in a daze.

“Are you there Nate?” Greg asked.

Nathan nodded, “Yes, Master.”

“Good. Tell me Nate, are you empty, or full right now?”

“Empty…”

“Yes, you’re very empty, because you just shot a big chunk of Nathan right into those pants, didn’t you? Well, the good thing is that your daddy is here now, Nate–you know who your daddy is, right?”

Nathan nodded slowly, “Biff is my daddy…”

“Good. And what can your daddy do?”

“Fill me back up.”

Greg looked over at Biff. “Alright Daddy, he’s all yours, like we talked about. You know what you want to fill him up with first?”

“Sure do boy! Been thinkin’ ‘bout it the whole way here,” Biff said, and pulled out a carton of cigarettes, tapping one out into his dirty palm, and pulling a lighter from his pocket. He stuck it in his scruffy maw and lit it, taking a deep, practiced inhale, and sighing two jets of smoke from his nose. “Alright boy, let’s fill ya back up with some smoke. Here, let Daddy give you some,” he said, took another long drag, leaned in, pressed his mouth to Nathan’s slack jaw, and pushed the smoke into him, and Nathan inhaled deep, his body resisting the urge to cough. “That’s good boy,” Biff said when he pulled away, “Ya love gettin’ smoke from yer daddy whenever ya can–not that you’re ever without a fag yerself, right son?”

Carnival Interactive Pre-Poll | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

I’m planning on starting a new interactive next week, and this one is going to be running on a carnival theme! That said, I had a lot of different ideas on what to include, but didn’t want to use all of them, so I thought I would give my Patron’s a chance to decide!

Through the link is a poll of six options, which will help decide what parts of the carnival our young college aged men will venture into. I’m planning on using three of them for sure–two will be the top two choices from this poll, and a third will be selected by a particular commissioner, who gets to help me decide and plan these things.

That said, you have to be giving me $1 a month or more to get to respond. Once the story starts up, there will be public polls as usual, however! Thanks again!

Carnival Interactive Pre-Poll | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

CoB: Family Matters [Sketch, Pics]

I’ve had this idea rolling around for a bit, but no time to make it into something longer. It’ll still probably get turned into a full City of Bears story at some point, with a few additional twists to it.

“Fuck boy, you’re such a hot fucker, damn,” Brett said, pushing back against his cub’s cock as he fucked him. Malcolm just moaned, as is other daddy. Garth, gripped him tight, around the belly, and pushed his own cock a little deeper into the boy’s ass, sandwiching him between his two daddies, right where he belonged, right were he assumed he’d be forever.

After a few minutes, they got their rhythm together, and fucked in a train for a few minutes. Malcolm, assaulted on both sides, lost his load first, pumping his cum deep into Brett’s ass, both of his daddies telling him how proud they were of him. Garth pushed the boy over the side of the bed and fucked him a bit deeper, while Brett got on the bed, and slid his cock into Malcolm’s mouth, the two bears leaning over him and sharing a kiss until they came, filling the cub at both ends.

Afterwards, the three of them laid in their sizable bed together, cuddling, discussing their plans to go out the next night and where in the city they might like to go, and it wasn’t long before his two daddies were snoring–but Malcolm wasn’t feeling very sleepy, he was still so damn horny. He slipped out from between his two daddies, and went to the computer to look at some porn–navigating to something a bit…wilder than his daddies were particularly interested in, but which Malcolm had been enjoying lately. Just looking couldn’t do any harm, right?

It was a few days later that malcolm woke up, and discovered the first tattoo. Thankfully it was…somewhat discrete, and he managed to cover it before either of his daddies saw it, and he frantically tried to figure out what to do. He…wasn’t changing, was he? He didn’t feel any different. Maybe it was just something residual from the club the day before, and he just hadn’t noticed it. In any case, he kept it covered up that day, slipping out of the house to investigate some services that might help remove the tattoo–but he was dismayed to find that everywhere he went, they couldn’t seem to get rid of it.

The next day, there were more, and he didn’t cover them quickly enough. His daddies saw them, and threw a fit, demanding to know where he’d gotten them, demanding to know what in the world he was thinking about. Their anger confused him–on one hand, he felt so shameful for letting something like this happen and come between him and his daddies, even if they were a bit vanilla and stodgy, but on the other hand, he felt something inside him craving punishment, and discipline, and he found himself flipping between two extreme moods. One moment, he would be screaming back at them, furious for not caring or understanding what he wanted, and the next he would be apologizing, stripping, and begging his daddies to punish him like the bad boy he was.

Brett and Garth didn’t know what to make of it–the change had been so sudden, and they both believed they could reason with him, and get their sweet little cub back–but it was clear, after another day, things were only getting worse. Malcolm, or Mal as he was calling himself now, slipped out of the house and didn’t return for days, coming back reeking of sex, saying the most vile things to them both. Garth…lost his temper, and locked him down in the basement, telling Brett to keep an eye on him, not listen to a word he said, and to keep him down there while he went to find something that might help.

He spent all day in the city, and found nothing for his situation. In fact, most men, one they heard the story, were appalled. Change was normal, and something that should be embraced. They couldn’t expect to keep their cub from changing, if that’s what he wanted. He returned to the house, defeated, in the afternoon, told Brett what he’d found out…and Garth convinced him that they should just keep him down there. That until he wanted to be their good little cub again, he’d just have to be punished.

Brett hated the idea, but went along with it. In the basement, Mal raised a louder and louder fit, pounding on the locked door, screaming horrific obscenities into the air, his voice dropping lower, growing gruffer, making Brett shake every time he had to pass the door. Garth kept looking for a solution in the city, but turned up nothing. He should have seen it coming, really–Brett didn’t have the resolve Garth did, and when he came home and found the basement door unlocked and open–he just assumed Brett had let him out, and Mal had fled. However, he didn’t find Brett in the house–but he did find a stranger covered in tattoos sitting out in the afternoon sun, smoking a cigar, waiting for him.

“Fuck, I missed the fuckin’ sun,” he said, got up from where he was sitting, and chased down Garth, tackling him to the ground, beating him, and then dragging him into the basement, throwing him into a cramped cage down there. Garth looked around the space in terror–his basement had become a complete sex dungeon since he’d last been down here. He begged Mal to let him out, as the big man climbed the stairs to the main floor again, but Mal just laughed. “Sorry–but I think you need some time in the dark, Garth–some time to learn how the darkness can change you. I’ll be back down in a few days to start training you both, when you’re a bit more…malleable.”

It was then that Garth saw Brett in another cage across the basement floor, huddled and crying, naked. Then the basement door slammed shut, and sent them into total darkness.

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Performance Reviews (Part 5)

*~* Six Months Later *~*

“Come on, Shitface,” Aaron said gruffly around his cigar, and tugged the leather leash. Whatever had caught it’s attention, the office pet followed Aaron into the bathroom to start it’s day. The bathroom had seen better days, but then again, it hadn’t been cleaned in nearly a year at this point. The partitions had all been torn out, leaving just two open toilets, covered in piss stains and shit smears, a couple sinks that no longer worked, and a urinal with a puddle of reeking piss that Shitface headed towards, while Aaron attached the end of the lead to the hook on the wall, next to the toilets. Shitface didn’t notice, it was too busy sucking up as much of the piss as it could. Aaron watched for a moment, still unable to believe that after all of this time, Carson was still in there somewhere. Cum dripped from the head of Shitface’s chastity cage, but it’s cock didn’t harden–Aaron had taught the beast better, with a good amount of electric shock punishment, and while it remained plenty horny, it hadn’t strained in its cage in a few months. With that, Aaron left the bathroom to get to work–Bryce needed his morning whipping while he ate breakfast. The fat fuck had been slowing down lately, and Ollie wanted him cresting nine hundred pounds by the end of the month, and pain had turned out to be a great motivator for him.

Shitface, meanwhile, finished off the puddle of old piss, and then knelt by the toilet, panting, and waiting. It wasn’t long before someone came in–Cletus, in fact, hauling around his huge gut in a pair of overalls, tobacco spit drooling into his wiry mass of a beard. He sat down with a grunt and started shitting, Shitface sucking his cock while he did and drinking his dipspit as well, until he finished, and then Cletus stood up, turned around, and let Shitface get what the beast really wanted, the nasty filth left in the crack. When it was clean, Cletus gave the beast a pet on the head and told it that it had dome a real good job, and noticed Ollie had stepped in after him without saying anything. Cletus offered his nasty redneck hole to him, but Ollie said he had some business with Shitface first, and Cletus left, disappointed, but some other dirty fucker in the office would want to ride him, he was certain.

“Well, it’s been another six months–why don’t we give you a real nice reward, eh Shitface, and see how Carson is doing in there?”

Ollie walked over, got down, and unlocked the cage around the beast’s cock. It didn’t know what to do–it hadn’t had it’s cock free in so long, and when Ollie started rubbing it, it didn’t respond at all–the beast knew what happened if it got hard, after all. Still, with some urging from Ollie, Shitface got into it, humping into his fist while he sniffed at his pits, but he didn’t manage to cum until Ollie bent over and let it eat out his crack. Only then, did he finally work a massive load from the beast, six months worth of cum pouring out of him and onto the filthy tile, and slowly, from the depths of himself that he hadn’t even known he possessed, Carson pushed his way back to the surface.

Or at least, what was left of him.

“Wha, where am…I? He muttered, lips struggling to form the words it had nearly forgotten.

“Welcome back Carson,” Ollie said, “It’s time for your review. But maybe, first, you should take a look at yourself in that mirror there.”

Carson crawled over where Ollie pointed, getting about a yard before realizing he was crawling. He tried to stand up…but didn’t quite know how, and ended up in a strange stoop, clinging to the sink to keep himself upright, and he could see what the last six months had done to him.

He was so smooth–smooth, and filthy. The hair on his head had either been freshly shaved that day, but from the grunge on his scalp, it was more likely that it had been removed entirely. The same with the hair on his face–and the hair on the rest of his body, though it looked like Ollie or Aaron had decided to replace it with tattoos. His entire front was covered with ink, and it ran down his arms and legs as well–but not on his face, for some reason. No–his face seemed wrong in other ways–his nose turned up, eyes small, mouth too large. That, and he was so…fat, so much fatter than he had been. He couldn’t remember clearly, but he’d been…around 275 when he’d last gone under, but now he looked to be close to 400, enough that he’d felt his gut graze the ground when he’d crawled a moment before. “What…you do to me? Not right, this not right.”

“Of course it’s right, Carson. This is you. You’re a brownnosing, filthy little animal, aren’t you?”

That did sound right, actually, but something…was saying no. A distant voice, but it was there. He shook his head, his hair flinging around him, but nothing seemed any clearer than before. “Not right, not right!” he yelled, “Not right, not me, no!”

He tried to turn and face Ollie, but fell back onto his hands and knees, where he knew he belonged. Ollie regarded him, and the cage in his hand. “I should probably just lock you away for a while longer, really do away with you, make you too stupid and weak to resist, but you know what? This is going to be more fun, you fucking animal.”

Carson slipped away, back into the darkness, and when he next surfaced, he had his face planted in a filthy crack, and someone was fucking him rough, rough like Master fucked him, rough how he liked it now. He’d cum again, and he struggled to pull away, but couldn’t–he was too tired, he was too tired to fight it anymore. The crack pulled away eventually, and Carson looked behind him, and saw it was Master fucking him, leering down at him around his massive cigar, and he felt…fear. So much fear. Obey master, always obey Master, or else punishment, so much punishment.

“Fuck, he is still in there, ain’t he?” Aaron said.

“The code phrase will work for you too, use it if you have to, and cage him up if his mind starts to come back and resist. I don’t think he will though–give him a few weeks, and he’ll accept it.”

Aaron waved the cage in his face, and said, “I don’t know, think I can trust you with your mind out, Shitface?”

He knew that wasn’t his name, not really, but…he couldn’t remember the other one, even though he knew Ollie had said it earlier. He nodded regardless. It was Master’s name for him, and that was all that really mattered.

Aaron looked back at Ollie, “I’m gonna enjoy having him know what’s happening to him–and trust me, in another six months? He’ll love it. I’ll make him love it, all of it. He’ll want to be a fucking pet–he’ll be begging me to use the words on him, to give him the release he craves.”

Ollie laughed. “Well, I’ll let you get started then, Aaron. And that was an excellent review as always–you’re my star employee.”

“Thank you, sir,” Aaron said, “I wouldn’t want any other job than this one.”

Performance Reviews (Part 4)

“I’m still that person, you can’t fucking break me,” Carson said, “I’m gonna blow this whole fucking thing wide open, you can’t do this forever!”

Ollie nodded, “Yeah, I know you’d try–and so, that’s why I’ve decided I simply can’t let that rational mind of yours hold onto the wheel much anymore,” he stepped closer, and Carson could…smell him, smell his stinking ass, but he fought against that urge as hard as he could. “See, that rational mind is still yours, but the rest of your head? I own it. All of it. Fuck, if you’d just give in, you wouldn’t even recognize yourself in a few days. So you know what? You’re going to have to learn how to let go–isn’t that right, you fucking animal?”

Carson didn’t know how to describe what happened next. It was like the urges pent up inside him ramped up to a roar, and every trick he’d found to hold them back could barely keep them at bay. He heard himself start panting, and smelled…piss. He’d pissed himself in the chair, right where he was sitting, and he hadn’t even cared. “No, you, how you do…that…” Carson said, but the words were slow, and nothing seemed to make sense.

“You are a tough one, aren’t you?” Ollie said, “Well, nothing can stop a fucking animal like you, trust me.”

He lost it. Carson felt his mind flung away, the instinct and desires Ollie had spent months planting in him taking complete control, and he threw himself out of the chair and onto his hands and knees, snorting and panting, nosing around to the back of Ollie’s pants. He…didn’t have a clear memory of what happened after that, it was just a cascade of wants and desires, none of it conscious, just a pursuit of whatever twisted pleasure his bestial and perverted mind desired. The next thing he knew, he was cumming, and the beast inside him lost force, allowing Carson to resurface and gain control again–and he found himself around the side of Bryce’s desk, still humping his massive, flabby thigh, and from the wetness in his pants, he had clearly cum just from grinding himself against his boss’s massive leg.

He fell back and looked to the clock. Two hours. He’d lost control for two hours, and he couldn’t remember a second of it, not clearly. He felt something cold in the back of his pants as well, and realized that somewhere in the midst of his rutting, he had shat himself as well. He was shaking in horror, and he looked up at Ollie standing over him. “I’m…I’m sorry, I’ll…I’ll do it, I’ll do everything, I swear, please don’t let it back out, please…”

“I’m sorry Carson, I really am, but you won’t be able to help yourself. You love control a bit too much. And in all honesty? You’re a hot fucking animal when you let go–and I’d rather have that nasty fucking beast in the office than you. Stand up, and strip.”

Carson, still pleading with him, stood up and took off his filthy shirt and soiled pants and underwear. Ollie grabbed something amongst the food on the desk, a little metal…something he didn’t recognize. Ollie started putting it on his cock, and Carson realized what it must be–a chastity cage. “No…No, you can’t…”

“Don’t worry Carson, I’ll let you out again eventually, but six months locked away will do a marvelous job grinding away some of that troublesome mind of yours. I have a feeling that when your next review rolls around, you’ll be a whole new man.”

He locked the cage, and gave it a tug, making sure it was secure. It was…so small. There was no way his cock could get an erection in it. “Please, please, just let me try.”

“Enjoy your last thoughts Carson–because you’re going to spend a good long time as my nasty, fucking animal from now on.”

He tried to fight it, but he was too weak to resist it again, and Carson’s rational mind slipped away again, and the animal fell onto its hands and knees, looking at the cage on its cock and whining a bit.

Ollie went to the door and hollered, “Aaron! Quit beating on the intern for a bit, and get over here. The project I mentioned is ready for you.”

Aaron appeared in the doorway, and grinned when he saw the snorting, empty eyed beast where Carson had been moments before. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding.”

“Yeah, but he’s…well, look at the mess he made earlier. You’re job is to train the thing, make sure it can behave–or at least make sure it isn’t pissing and shitting all over the place–or make it clean up after itself if you prefer. Beyond that, make sure it stays plenty horny all the time–with that rank ass of yours, I doubt you’ll have a hard time with that. it’ll be going home with you too–so get used to parking around back, by the loading dock, out of sight. If people see him, we’ll have issues.”

“Sure thing Boss–can I give the thing a better name, too?”

Ollie shrugged, “Why not? What do you have in mind?”

“Come here, Shitface,” he said, calling Carson over, and the beast crawled to him, and started sucking his thick cock. “I think he likes it.”