Category: Uncategorized

The Votes are In! (Part 8)

Alright, this one had a pretty severe difference in both the polls I ran–let’s see how it ends up.

First, the public poll on twitter (which had 48 total votes):

  1. (Part of the house) 21% – 10 votes
  2. (Another demon) 25% – 12 votes
  3. (Rubber drone) 48% – 23 votes
  4. (Demon absorbs it) 6% – 3 votes

Second, the private patron only poll on Patreon (which had 30 votes)

  1. (Part of the house) 40% – 12 votes
  2. (Another demon) 40% – 12 votes
  3. (Rubber drone) 17% – 5 votes
  4. (Demon absorbs it) 3% – 1 votes

Here’s the total results, out of 78 votes!

  1. (Part of the house) 28% – 22 votes
  2. (Another demon) 30% – 24 votes
  3. (Rubber drone) 36% – 28 votes
  4. (Demon absorbs it) 5% – 4 votes

Alright! Rich will become a rubber drone of some sort, but since it was close one, he’s…probably going to become a rather…demonic rubber drone, I think.

Muse of Fantasy II – Reconciliation (Part 6)

He shook his head, trying to clear it. He…he knew who it was. It was a person, it was someone he knew, wasn’t it? But it wasn’t a person anymore. No–it was was in his domain now, it was his. He walked towards it and ran his heavy gloves over the thing’s face, pushing his fingers into its facehole, the flesh inside shivering and quaking at his touch, eager and hungry for his cock, to serve him, but more than anything else, to be abused and used and broken down to nothing. He gripped the thing’s head in his hands, forcefully, and pressed the massive rubber shaft to its hole. It struggled and resisted–it couldn’t help itself, the flesh inside wasn’t as cooperative as it desired to be, but Ed applied steady, constant pressure. It would relent–it always did, in the end. He would have his way with the thing, whatever the thing inside might be feeling was of no concern to either of them.

Oliver, lost to Ed in his mask, knelt down beside the chained Will, listening to him gag and choke helplessly as Ed drove the massive, foot and a half long rubber shaft into his gullet. His jaw was about to dislodge, he couldn’t breathe, and Will was beginning to wonder, seriously, if this might be where he die. “Now now,” Oliver said, stroking Will’s cheek with one hand, “There’s no death here–but there is change. Change is always a death of a sort, you know. But you have to give something up to change, Will. We both know that this is what you desire most–but that pesky flesh inside of you is going to have to yield, if you’re going to get what you want most.”

Oliver kept stroking his cheek, and he felt it–the jaw dropped, noticeably–but there was no pop. Instead, it simply stretched and warped, the bones of Will’s mouth turning to rubber, his throat and mouth no longer flesh, but simply a rubber channel leading into his body. With the resistance gone, Ed drove his massive rubber cock into Will, to the base, grinding the rubber of his overalls against him, before sliding back out, and driving in, quicker this time.

“See? Isn’t that better? Isn’t that what you want?” Oliver said. Will shivered in pleasure as Ed’s massive shaft drove into him again, the sensations of his now rubber throat driving him to new heights of pleasure he’d never imagined possible. “All it takes is a little imagination, and a willingness to let go. Let go of yourself, of that pesky humanity. You don’t need it anymore–you don’t need it to give him pleasure, you don’t need it to serve him as his slave. It will only hold you back, if you keep it.”

Will could feel his mind slowing, his thoughts turning to rubbery muck, but that was alright–he didn’t need to think. He just needed to exist. Anything beyond that, all higher order thought, would simply be a nuisance. It was so much better to just focus on feeling, and sensation–on pleasure. Oliver pushed Will over, the chains slackening enough that he fell forward, caught with his ass up. Ed stared at him, confused for a moment, and then stopped around behind Will and began his work on the gimps ass. This hole relented easier–Will already knew what he needed to do, now–release the flesh, allow it to become rubber, allow the rubber to invade him, worm it’s way around the fleshy core that remained of him. He could no longer exist without it, he realized–he was no longer even a person, just a thing. Whatever human chunks of him remained were trapped within a shell that would never allow them to be free again. Ed could feel the pleasure building in his cock and balls, churning and growing until in a massive gush he poured his seed, inky black and slick, into Will’s ass, the rubber channel overflowing quickly, most of it spilling out onto the ground below them both, the dungeon shrinking away from them both until they were back in the kitchen, both now warped beyond any recognition, their minds overwhelmed with the pleasures of their forms, leaving Oliver a moment to appraise them.

Yes, they were good–but was it enough to please his god? No–they could go further than this, he could push himself further than this. Besides, they were missing life. They had no context. What would he do, lock them both up in a dungeon, where no one would behold them? No–they needed to live. He walked up, to where Ed was still ramming his rubber cock into the drone’s hole. He tugged the hose hanging from his mask, and yanked it off of him, the clasps giving way, and Ed looked around the room, wide eyed and shocked, and then looked down at himself, at his rubber gear, and his cock buried deep into the thing’s ass, the pool of black goo he was standing in, and he staggered back, trying to pull off the gloves, the clothes, the cock–anything, but none of it would come away from his body. “No–what the fuck is this shit? Get it the fuck off me!”

“Now now, Ed–you don’t really want to take your gear off, do you? Not when you still have work to do?” Oliver said.

“Fuck you, this–this is fucking insane!”

“Now now, I can always put the mask back on, Ed. I can make sure it never comes off. You’ll be as much a rubber thing as that thing there, and you’ll never have another thought in your life. But that’s not what you want, is it? You want to go back to the country–back to the farm. Well I can make that happen, if you want.”

God of Fantasies II – Reconciliation (Part 5)

“Fuck…fuckin’, what the fuckin’ hell’d ya do tah me?”

“I gave you what you want, Ed. I gave you both what you want–that’s what I do. That’s my gift, giving me their fantasies, no matter how strange, no matter how perverse. I free them from their mundane, boring, simple lives and give them all of the pleasure they could desire so that they might please my god.” He placed a hand on Will’s head, and he instinctively leaned in, mouth open, tongue hanging out, searching for his next cock, hungry, desperate to be used. “Still, don’t assume we’re finished yet–after all, the deal wasn’t just giving the two of you what you each want–we’re looking for a way towards…reconciliation, right?”

“Nah, not this, I wasn’t meanin’ nothin’ like this!” Ed said, “You fuckin’ faggot! Just fuckin’ leave me the fuck alone!”

Oliver looked down at Will, still blindly searching for his cock, and then back at Ed. “Well, what do you think Will wants? This rubber–it’s sucked most of the mind out of him at this point–he doesn’t really consider himself to be anything more than an object really–a cumdump. He never has to worry about those big human problems again, he never has to worry about much of anything–but he does need a master, don’t you, you little rubber slut?”

He gripped Will’s head, and made him nod along, and with a tap on the crown, Ed saw…something push it’s way out from Will’s skull–from his mind really, the same way the bathroom had materialized around him when Oliver had touched him–but this was something else, something much…darker. The ring pushed past where Eddie was sitting, and he dropped, the chair below him no longer existing, and he pushed himself up from the rough concrete floor where the kitchen tile had been, and looked around at whatever it was that Will kept cooped up in his head.

Eddie had always known that Will had something…strange in him. Maybe not as strange as a fantasy about getting raped by rednecks, or becoming a redneck, but something strange all the same. He’d never really known what to make of his obsession with rubber, in particular. When he’d tried wearing it in the past, to satisfy Will’s constant badgering, it had just felt hot, and sweaty, and gross–not sexy at all. Will had never really been able to explain what he liked about it either, but perhaps it hadn’t been an inability to say it–maybe he’d just been ashamed, or as terrified of his own desires as he was sure Eddie would have been, if he’d known.

The room Ed was in now, was a dungeon–a sex dungeon, but one which didn’t seem to be the sort of play space some gay couples assembled. No–something about this felt very, very real. Will was in the middle of the room, still in the gimp suit, but now, he was also bound in chains bolted to the floor, held immobile, aside from a metal clasp in his mouth stretching his jaw to the limit, a posture collar forcing his head high and rigid–ready to accept whatever someone might give him.

“This is what Will wants,” Oliver said, in the darkness. “He doesn’t just enjoy rubber, Ed–he doesn’t just want to be rubber, either. He wants to be owned, and controlled, and used. He wants to cease to exist as a person–as an agent, and just become a slave. He’s never admitted this to anyone, not even you, not even really to himself. Part of the reason you getting beat up like that bothered him so much? It was because, in a way he couldn’t even understand, it had made him jealous.”

“Look man, I don’t know what kinda fuckin’ game this is, but I–I’ll be the redneck, a’ight? Just drop me off on a farm somewhere, I don’t even give a fuck! But I ain’t doin’ none a this faggy shit, got it? This shit is fucked up.”

“Ah, see? That’s where you’re wrong! This isn’t faggy shit, Ed–your masculine pride can remain intact–because this isn’t a man, not anymore. It’s just an object, something for you to use–and something that wants you to use it more than anything. Or at least, it wants someone like you to use it, but I don’t think a big redneck bruiser is quite what Will has in mind–right Will?”

The gimp nodded–the first sign it had given that it was at all aware of what was going on around it in the room–and when it did, Ed heard something, a soft flutter, and then it was on him. It was rubber, but it wasn’t just a sheet of the stuff, it was clothing, and it was…alive. Two thick, industrial style gloves, not unlike those Will had worn that summer spent inseminating cattle, shoved their way down over his hands, while the flannel and denim he was wearing was torn off, a pair of rubber overalls and waders taking their place–though the crotch on the overalls was missing entirely. It left his cock and balls vulnerable to the massive, foot and a half long rubber strap-on to slide over them, encasing them in hard rubber, and the strap cinched itself tight around his legs and waist. He grabbed it in his rubber gloved hands and tried to tug it off, but only succeeded in sliding them down the length of the shaft, making him groan and shudder. The rubber cock–he could feel it, somehow, and it was more sensitive than his real cock had ever been. His attention was so caught by the pleasure, in fact, that he didn’t see the mask until it was too late–it flew at his face, covering him, the straps wrapping around his head tight.

He tried to tug it off, but it was cinched so close he could feel the rubber digging into his skin, and he couldn’t even find a buckle to release the straps. It was a gas mask of some sort, and he could feel a long hose whipping from the mouth of the mask, and when he breathed in, the air…was stale, and stank of rubber and sweat and musk…it made him feel lightheaded, and also incredibly horny. The lenses of the mask were tinted, making everything in the already dark room even more difficult to see, but he could see the slave there, chained to the floor–his rubber gimp.

Winter Vacation [Interactive] (Part 8)

The car pulled up the driveway late at night, while the daddy and the two boys were deep asleep. The coach stepped out of the car and stretched with a groan, the soft snow falling hitting his skin where it melted instantly and turned to steam, shrouding him in a thin mist as he surveyed the house.

Of course, the coach didn’t have much of the coach left inside his body anymore. It had been a long process, since the summer, when a chance encounter with an odd amulet in a curio shop which housed a rather powerful demon of lust, gluttony, sloth, pride–well, it did love to indulge in every vice imaginable, really. The coach had fought as best he could, but by the time college had entered session, he had been losing, lost in the…fantasies the demon was promising him, no longer ever sure if they were his own or not. Lusting after the young men on the team, and the demon–the demon could give him any of them. The first time he’d put Rich into that trance and fucked the star player in his office–he’d known there was no going back from that, and so, he’d given in–without really understanding what, exactly, that meant.

The coach didn’t really exist on the mortal plane, anymore. He could observe, at times, what was going around his body, but his spirit was lost to that world, and now existed only in the demons realm, twisted and warped by the nightmarish pleasure and vices of the place until he could no longer even recognize himself. Part of him–a small part now, the last bit of his humanity, knew he’d consigned these four young men to a fate worse than death, but the new him, the warped, nightmarish thing he’d become in the darkness here, it watched eagerly to see what the demon, what his master, would do to the four of them next.

The first step, after all, was temptation. The four of them had succumbed to that step rather easily, though they had all been well primed by the demon over the last semester to be prepared for that step. Twisting their little minds had been such a joy, there in the locker room. Deceiving them, planting the idea in Rich’s mind to take the four of them on this secluded vacation deep into the mountains without telling anyone where they were going. Now they had wallowed in their vices for days, losing themselves, their connection to reality. None of them would be able to fight him now, though they may try.

With the coach’s spirit dispatched, he had gained free reign of the man’s mortal frame, and warped it to become more…familiar to his demonic tastes. Six and a half feet tall, weighing over four hundred pounds of muscle and fat, coated in hair, cock hanging to his knees, short horns pushing from his forehead. He stepped up the porch and into the house, moving with incredible silence for his massive frame. He could hear the three men snoring loudly in the three corners of the house, but his business with them could wait. No–first to the basement, to check on Rich, or at least, what remained of him.

Down the stairs he went, and he could smell him even before he hit the floor, the stench of waste, filth, and rubber. It filled him with such…delight, and his cock began to harden, growing to a foot in length, the head oddly barbed, and dribbling an steaming, dark grey cum onto the concrete floor. There he was–in his cocoon, lying against the wall there. It no longer appeared to hold a body at all, it had become so bloated and misshapen over the last week, ingesting the piss and waste of the men above him. It had been necessary, to deal with him in such a way, to corrupt him so completely. The others all showed such lust and hunger for vice and evil, but Rich–he had been the one to show the most resistance. The demon walked to the rubber cocoon and grazed it with one sharp nail, feeling the thing inside shiver with delight. Yes–it was ready for the final stage now, most certainly.

He detached the hose from the mask, leaving just a sizable hole where Rich’s mouth should have been, but it was difficult to see what, exactly was inside. It was a hole, in any case–and the demon guided the head of it to the head of his cock, sliding it into the slimy throat, feeling how…hungry it was. He probed the mind left inside the rubber, and found only the simplest of thoughts–and a great, mindless, obsessive hunger. Well, it would have plenty to eat, soon enough. He fed it lovingly, savoring the moment, sliding in deep, feeling the thing pulsing and twitching around his cock. It lacked form and substance. It could be anything. It would be anything, anything the demon wanted it to become, and he had just the thing in mind. The soul would not stay, however–no, that was still too much of a risk. Besides, he had a promise to keep, with the coach, one final deal to satisfy, to ensure his place here in the mortal realm was secure. He came, and as Rich’s form accepted the demon’s seed, Rich felt himself sinking away into some strange, new darkness.

He was himself–his body was his again. He looked around, and cried out for help–but there, waiting for him, was the coach, or at least, what remained of the coach’s soul. The beast charged him, impaling him on his monstrous cock, delighted with the demon’s gift, and the mental link between them closed–the coach now lost to hell with, Rich, who would become his own twisted mate in time.

Meanwhile, the demon watched the cocoon begin to convulse and warp, reacting to both his seed, and his will. But what, exactly, did it become?

Alright, what’s it going to be?

  1. It becomes a part of the house, ready to further corrupt the men above.
  2. It bursts, releasing a fellow demon from hell eager for some fun.
  3. It reforms into a mindless rubber slave drone, ready to serve.
  4. The demon absorbs it, making him more powerful than before.

The public twitter poll is here!

The patron only Patreon poll is here!

You have until Monday afternoon to vote!

The Votes are In! (Part #7)

Sorry for the delay in announcing this! My week has been weird and busy and strange for a whole manner of reasons. The next chunk will drop tomorrow!

First, the public poll on twitter (which had 54 total votes):

  1. (Uncle & Father) 37% – 20 votes
  2. (Nerd Revenge) 15% – 8 votes
  3. (Demon Coach) 41% – 22 votes
  4. (Mad Scientist) 7% – 4 votes

Second, the private patron only poll on Patreon (which had 31 votes)

  1. (Uncle & Father) 32% – 10 votes
  2. (Nerd Revenge) 0% – 0 votes
  3. (Demon Coach) 58% – 18 votes
  4. (Mad Scientist) 10% – 3 votes

Here’s the total results, out of 85 votes!

  1. (Uncle & Father) 35% – 30 votes
  2. (Nerd Revenge) 10% – 8 votes
  3. (Demon Coach) 47% – 40 votes
  4. (Mad Scientist) 8% – 7 votes

Muse of Fantasy II – Reconciliation (Part 4)

“You fought back. You swallowed that inner faggot of yours, and you started beating him up too. You straightened out and manned up, and dumbed down. By the time you dropped out of school, you weren’t little Eddie, that fucking faggot anymore–no, you were Big Ed, beating up the rest of the weak faggots with your big brother. The only difference is that you promised to go a bit easier on them next time, if they sucked you off in the woods after school.”

“Nah, fuck, that shit ain’t fuckin’ right! I ain’t one a ‘em I fuckin’ hate ‘em!” Eddie said, and tried to turn away from the mirror, but even though he could feel his body moving, the mirror and the room turned with him. He couldn’t escape the face, his face, the big, hulking, sexy fucking brute in the mirror. Was…was it really him? Could it be him? He’d always…thought about it, what might have happened if he’d stayed, if he hadn’t focused on school and gotten out as soon as he possibly could. Is this…is this really what he could have been? He knew it should have horrified him, but all he felt was so fucking horny.

“Yeah, you do hate them, those faggots.”

“Nah that ain’t what I meant! Don’t go twistin’ round mah words like that, this, I didn’t wanna be this fuckin roughneck son of a bitch.”

“Come on now, Big Ed–it didn’t happen. You didn’t end up like those faggots, you can relax,” Oliver said, stroking the side of his bearded face gently, seeing some of the intellect and memory in Eddie’s eyes dim back further. “You’re a real man, isn’t the right, Big Ed?”

“N-No, I…I was a…”

“That was just a bad dream–a nightmare.”

“Y-Yeah…yeah, I’m a real man.”

“And you do everything real men do, don’t you? You smell like a man, you smoke and drink like a man, you swear and growl like a man–you even fuck pussy like a man, on occasion, ain’t that right? Of course, you can’t stand women, not really–that’s the real problem, isn’t it?”

Eddie could smell himself now, standing there. The boozy breath, the lingering smoke in his beard. The musky pits, the dirty, muddy clothes he had on. It made him feel better–more secure. Oliver was right, he wasn’t a faggot–no fucking way was a real man like him a faggot. But what the fuck was he talking about? Ed had been with plenty of women! Of course, he’d…never really been able to get hard easily, but that’s because he was usually drunk, but fucking them in the ass usually did the trick for him, and if they complained? A few smacks would sort them out quick enough.

“The real problem, is that the faggot is still in you, deep down, and you’ll never be rid of him.”

“Shut yer fuckin’ trap,” Ed snarled at him, but there was a quaver, a bit, at the end of his drawl.

“That’s why you come here, that’s why you find the mouths on the other side of the stall, that’s why you did it that night, isn’t it? Listening to him moan around your cock, listening to how much he was enjoying it–it drove you nuts, because you want to enjoy it too, instead of all the shame, instead of all the self-loathing…”

Ed gasped, and realized he wasn’t in front of the mirror anymore. No–now he was in the stall, his cock in the gloryhole, listening and feeling some disgusting faggot slurping on his fat rod on the other side, the wet slap of the faggots hand on his own wet cock–he hated it. He fucking hated it. He hauled his cock out of the hole without warning, walked to the stall where the faggot was, and kicked in the door with one solid slam from his boot, the door slamming into the bitch, stunning him. Ed reached in and grabbed him by the collar, hauling him out of there with a snarl–and froze when he saw the face of the faggot, froze when he saw his face, his old face, looking up at him in terror.

“This is what you’ve wanted, ever since that night, isn’t it? This is why you can’t stop thinking of it, why you can’t stop dreaming of it. So do it. Fucking do it, be a man, show that faggot you mean business.”

Ed didn’t want to look at that face, he didn’t want to see that version of him anymore–so he started punching it. He punched it until it was broken and bloody and almost unrecognizable, and then he rolled it over, hauled down its pants, and started fucking it roughly, his thick, calloused hands gripping the thing’s hips hard enough to bruise, so hard he could almost feel his own hands on his own hips, but he didn’t think about that, couldn’t think about that, wouldn’t think about that, and he came deep–and the bathroom was gone, and Ed was left in the kitchen, his cock planted deep down Will’s throat, watching the gimp choke on his massive load, its erection still clearly visible in the rubber suit below. He hauled his cock free of the thing’s mouth, watching it slurp the cum down with a moan, and he fell into a chair behind him, looking down at his hands, his massive fucking hands, from years working on farms and construction sites. He could…remember everything, everything about this new life, and all that remained of his old one were just fragments, shards left over from the mental beating he’d given himself. He looked back at the gimp in front of him, at Oliver standing beside him, smiling, pleased with himself.

Muse of Fantasy II – Reconciliation (Part 3)

“Leave him the fuck alone!” Eddie shouted, and pushed himself up from the table, ready to intercede, but Oliver just smiled at him, “Take that…shit off of him, and get the fuck out of our house, you fucking freak.”

“Sit down, Eddie,” Oliver said, gently, but the words had force of their own. Unable to understand why, he did as he was told, and took his seat again at the table, while Will rubbed his mitts against the suit covering his body, the rubber pants growing down, over his feet, becoming thick soled waders connected seamlessly to the rest of the suit. “Now Will, how does it feel? And be honest.”

“It…feels amazing, but how did you do this? This isn’t possible…” Will looked down at himself, and then back at Oliver, “Who…are you?”

“Just a servant of my god, Will–you’ll meet them soon enough. But for now, why don’t we tuck you away for a bit, while I have a chat with your husband?”

Will felt the rubber squirming around his body again, and it rose higher, up his neck and onto his face. It forced his mouth open, filled it, forming a thick, cock shaped gag inside, and then sealed itself around it, Will moaning and protesting as the rubber enveloped the rest of his head, with just two holes for his nose, allowing him to breathe. He swung about a moment, blind and useless, but the rest of the suit was changing as well–tugging his arms down to his sides, where the sleeves sealed themselves to the sides of his body, locking them in place, and then Will fell to his knees, calves and thighs sealed together similarly. Where Will had stood a minute before, there was now just a motionless rubber gimp, trapped on its knees, moaning softly around the gag in its mouth, feeling the last of the rubber worming into his ass, forming a thick plug inside there as well.

Olive admired it for a moment, and then turned back to Eddie, who was still trying to get himself out of the chair, terrified and shaking. “Please, just…just let us go, I was only doing this so he’d fucking shut up about it!”

“Yeah, it can be…eye opening, the first time it happens,” Oliver said, “the first time you experience what you really want, the first time you feel real…pleasure. Because you did like it, didn’t you? There in that bathroom, two big fuckers kicking you, tearing at your clothes, right there on the tile floor.”

Eddie froze, staring at Oliver. “How…how do you know that…”

“I know everything about what you want, Eddie,” Oliver said, “I know things you want, that you haven’t even realized yet.” He reached out and touched Eddie’s temple, and when he did, Eddie felt…something inside his mind suddenly open up. Something expanded out from his mind, like a projection, and a moment later, the kitchen was gone, Will was gone. They were back there, in the rest area where those two roughnecks had hauled him out of the stall, beaten him up, and raped him. He could smell the piss, and see that…odd patch of wall he’d locked eyes with, when he’d tried not to think about what was happening to him, about how much he enjoyed what was happening to him. “You have a good memory,” Oliver said, looking around, “Have you been back since?”

“No–Will wouldn’t…let me.”

“But you wanted to, didn’t you?”

Eddie couldn’t reply.

“I can make it happen to you again, you know. You can relive it. It can be rougher this time, grittier, they could drag you out of here and turn you into their little faggot slave. You’ve thought about all of that, I can see it in you, Eddie.”

The door to the bathroom swung open, and Eddie spun around, terror in his guts, but there was no one there.

“But that wouldn’t help the two of you reconcile your…differences, would it? What would happen to poor Will, left as a gimp on the floor of the kitchen? I could, perhaps, find someone willing to take him, but you two do seem like such a good fit. Besides, that would be too easy. They wouldn’t be happy with that.”

“You crazy fuck, just leave us alone,” Eddie said, “Please, we have money, we’ll pay you, but just fucking stop this. Just fucking go away!”

Oliver just smiled at him, and came closer, “You thought you deserved it. All of it. All that teasing when you were a kid, all the guys calling you a faggot growing up. How small you are, how weak you are, you wanted them to rape you, because it confirmed for you exactly what you are–a faggot, a bitch, a weak piece of shit–but that’s not what you want to be, is it Eddie?”

Eddie tried to speak, tried to deny it, but all he could do was shake his head no. It was true–he…hated himself. He always had, and those two fucks raping him…abusing him. It had felt…exactly like what he deserved for being so…weak.

“No–well, you can be anything here, Eddie. You don’t have to be weak anymore. You don’t have to be some small, prissy, meek faggot. This is your fantasy, Eddie. This is your chance to be who you’ve always wanted to be.” Oliver walked over to the mirror, and waved Eddie over, “Come on, come have a look with me. I think you’ll like it.”

“No–No, I don’t want to look.”

“Yes you do Eddie. We both know what we’re going to see. Now come over here.”

Eddie walked, one step at a time, the footfalls sounding…heavy on the tile. He stood next to Oliver and turned to the mirror…and the person in the reflection beside Oliver…it was…him. His face, but a different life. One where, instead of giving up, he’d…given in. He’d embraced his roots, buried his sexuality, turned into a real man like his brother, like his father. His hair was buzzed down to the skull, and he had a thick, ragged beard all over his face, growing high up his cheeks. He wasn’t wearing the relaxing casual clothes from before, but instead had on a grubby t-shirt and a pair of overalls. “Fuck, nah fuck, that fuckin’ piece a trash ain’t me, I ain’t!” Eddie said, seeing the stranger contort in anger, the new voice betraying his background despite his denials.

The Muse of Fantasy II – Reconciliation (Part 2)

Oliver smiled–it sounded like the perfect opportunity for him to stretch his creativity in all sorts of strange directions, provided the source material proved interesting enough. If the two of them were bores, then he’d just have to liven things up himself. “Alright, that sounds like an interesting challenge for someone in my business. So, who would like to tell me their fantasy first?”

Eddie and Will looked at one another, still embarrassed.

“It seems the two of you don’t discuss this topic very often.”

Will chuckled, “No, it’s…a bit strange, I guess. Here, I’ll go first,” he brought his mug of coffee with him and sat at the table with the other two. “I, uh, well, I have a thing for rubber and latex. It’s kind of a new interest, I guess, because I don’t have a lot of gear…but I find it really erotic.”

“In what sense?” Oliver asked.

“I guess…I really like the feeling of it against my skin. I was with a guy, and he put me in a full body suit one time, and it felt…really amazing. It makes you feel like something else, like an object.”

“So you were more of a…bottom in this scenario?”

“I suppose so, but it isn’t really about power…I guess. It’s hard to explain.”

Oliver, peeking into Will’s mind, could see that the last bit was a lie–it was about power. He liked being powerless, but he wasn’t very fond of mentioning it to Eddie.

“Does that interest you at all, Eddie?”

He shrugged, “I’ve never had much experience with rubber other than wearing a condom, I suppose, but I’m open to the idea I suppose. But for me…well, I guess I should say that I didn’t grow up around here. I’m from the other side of the mountains, out in a little farming town, but I came out here for college, and because being gay in a small town…it was rough. But…well, I guess somethings stick with you a bit, because I’ve just always had a thing for country guys and farmers especially. I used to…well, hell, the first cock I ever sucked was an older neighbor of ours, when I was a teenager. He owned a farm, and I…I don’t know. It’s a bit hard finding guys like that over here though…”

Will shot him a look, and Eddie stopped talking. What had gone unstated was the fundamental friction, Oliver supposed. He could see in Eddie’s mind what he’d been doing–cruising rest areas out on the highways, always looking for roughneck cock. He’d gotten a bit of a bruising, and Will had told him to stop–one thing lead to another, and now all three of them were sitting together at the table, looking for a solution. Worse, or better, depending on your perspective, Eddie had liked it. He’d liked getting beaten by them, and he’d liked getting raped. It wasn’t something he’d really been able to process himself, and Oliver could see the tumult there of his fantasies. He was hard already, and so eager to begin.

“It sounds like you’re both bottoms.”

Eddie and Will nodded, “That’s part of why we don’t have a lot of sex, beyond the kink side of things. It makes it difficult.”

“Well, unless you have a third person you’d like to bring in, one of you is going to have work with it.”

“I mean…I could do it, I guess,” Will said, “I’m not that big, but maybe, as like, a rubber golem, I could fuck him with a strap on?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and Oliver could tell the idea didn’t even satisfy Will that much–he just wanted his husband to be safer, and he was worried that next time…well, it would be something a trip to a doctor wouldn’t be able to fix up.

“How about you, Eddie? Think you could give it a shot?”

He looked surprised–the thought honestly hadn’t occurred to him, but Oliver had a suspicion he’d be more than eager, with the right…motivation.

“You don’t think about topping very often, I guess.”

“Most of the guys I have sex with are just interested in blowjobs. Top and bottom doesn’t really enter into it.”

“I can understand that,” Oliver said, and cracked his knuckles, turning back to Will. ‘It seems like you’re the easier one to start with I think–why don’t we get you taken care of?”

“Oh? Uh…well, we can look at the gear I have, if you want to use any of it.”

“Oh no, I only use my own gear, Will, you don’t have to worry about a thing,” Oliver said, reached over and gave him a pat on the shoulder, and when he did, Will gasped. The shirt he’d had on had suddenly constructed tightly to his skin in a split second. He looked down, and saw the button down dress shirt was no more–it had somehow turned into a wrist length black rubber shirt.

“What, how did you…” Will said, and tried to pick at the end of the rubber sleeve, but it was so tight he couldn’t get a finger to separate the rubber from his skin. As he did, he felt the entire shirt squirm, and the rubber grew, flowing down his wrists and onto his fingers, which immediately began to gum up, until a few seconds later they were both trapped as fists in tight rubber mitts. “I don’t–take it off, please,” Will said as he stood up from the table, swinging his arms and trying to fling the rubber off.

“But why stop, Will? This is what you want–I can feel your desire plain as day. Here I’ll even help Eddie see it too,” Oliver said, stood up and gave Will a smack on the ass. Just like his shirt, his pants shifted instantly, becoming skintight rubber running down to his ankles. Clearly highlighted in the black rubber were his full balls, and an obvious erection.