Category: Uncategorized

Winter Vacation (Part 5)

Maury looked at himself in the mirror, and realized he was a complete mess. The last few days had been spent in a food focused haze, and he’d smeared himself with more food than he could even remember eating, encouraging his two boys to eat it off their daddy’s flabby body. He…loved how their tongues felt, worshiping and digging into his fatty rolls. They might have to skip the table for breakfast, and just use their daddy instead. Still, it would be good to get a bit cleaned up, because…well, just because! It was the right thing to do, something was telling him, and so he turned on the shower in the tub and let the water heat up, watching the water swirl away down the drain for a moment, until it was at a comfortable temperature.

It took a bit of effort to get into the tub, with his size, but it was at least spacious enough to be comfortable. It was only after getting himself good and wet that he realized he’d forgotten his toiletries in his bag–but thankfully, there was a bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap already in the shower, which must have been left there by Rich’s uncle. It was funny, Maury realized, in all the years he’d known Rich, never once had he even mentioned having an uncle, until the topic of this cabin came up. Still, that wasn’t really something he needed to worry about, was it?

He grabbed the bottle of shampoo and squeezed it out into his hand–it came out in a thick glob, and as he lathered it into his short hair, it began to foam and lather–so much so that it was running down the rest of his body, until he was coated head to toe in white foam. It smelled nice though, and did have a soothing feel to it. He massaged it into his scalp, not really noticing that, as he did, the hair on his head was beginning to grow. He began working the shampoo in elsewhere–focusing particularly on his face, where his stubble began to grow as well, filling out into a full beard, as he moved down lower, working the shampoo into his armpits, down his flabby chest and huge gut, and then used a brush hanging in the shower to scrub it into his back, the crack of his ass, and all the way down his legs to his feet.

He…didn’t really know why he was being so vigorous with the shampoo, but as he rinsed off, it began to make a bit more sense. He was…an extremely hirsute fellow, after all. His hair had grown out into a shaggy mane hanging down past his shoulders, and his beard was now long and wild, extending down to his chest. All over the rest of his body, Maury’s relatively hairless frame was now packed with fur–especially all over his chest and back, curls erupting from between the cheeks of his ass, and tufts on the tops of his feet. Without giving it much more thought, he grabbed the bar of soap and started working a lather out of it, but the smell of the bar was much, much more pungent.

It reminded him of the locker room after practice, at first. He…thought about gagging, but the more he smelled it, the less he minded it. And as he rubbed it into his pits, into the fold of his sagging apron of fat, deep into his crotch and between his things, around to his ass, and again, all over his feet. He went from being put-off, to indifferent, to actually enjoying it, to…finding it arousing. It took some work, but while he let the soap work on his skin, he reached under his gut to jack off, shooting a sizable load of cum which ran down the drain, along with the rest of the runoff soap as he rinsed off. Finished, and feeling refreshed, he stepped out and toweled himself down.

He…stank, he realized. In fact, he smelled worse now that he was out of the shower, than he had before…but it was a good stink. It was his stink. He took a long whiff of his pits, feeling his cock shudder in his fat, but saved it. His boys would enjoy it too, after all. He gave his hair and beard a shake, and then stepped back out, and headed for the kitchen, where his boys were just finishing up the meal. The sight, and smell, of their daddy alarmed them at first, but once he had each of them tucked under an armpit for a moment, they were happy to sniff and lick at them while he ate–Brett ending up under the table to clean off daddy’s nasty feet, while Nate cleaned out his stinking fat rolls, Maury feeding them more as they pleased him.

Meanwhile, the drain fed the shower’s grey water down into the basement, where the filter was chugging away, and Rich, still encased in rubber, found himself gulping down…something new. For the longest time, it had just been this…foul liquid flooding into his mouth, a taste he had learned to enjoy, at this point, but this was different. It was…less concentrated, but there was more off it, tasting like wet dog and dirty jockstraps, and as he drank it, he felt his own body…begin to sweat, and shift around uncomfortably in the rubber body suit. It was good though–this was right. He felt like his mind had slowed down, his thoughts caught in a rubber prison, his mind mostly empty, unless he was consuming the liquid pouring into him. He wasn’t finished yet, though–he could tell. Soon, hopefully, but he didn’t know for certain.

Upstairs, the three men lounged about, bellies full, the boys reveling in their daddy’s powerful musk, and enjoying his furry body. They…knew something had changed, but couldn’t quite figure out what, exactly. “Alright boys, daddy is going to watch some TV for a bit. Why don’t the two of you go play in your rooms until dinner?” They nod, not quite sure where they’re going, but they know they’ll figure it out as they leave the kitchen. Alone again, Maury heaves himself up from the chair and goes back into the TV room, where it sits back down on the couch, turns on the TV, and before long is staring at the static, eyes glazed over, drool running down his chins, and learning so…so much he never knew about being a proper daddy.

This poll will be a bit different! The top two answers on this poll will be used for inspiration in the next two chapters, one posted on Saturday and the next (ideally) on Sunday, but early next week in any case. So, each boy has a room with a special theme–what should the themes be?

  1. A room that looks suspiciously like a nursery.
  2. A room adjacent to the garage, full of biker and redneck gear.
  3. A room full of dirty laundry and porn that reeks of cum.
  4. A shack outside, that smells of odd musk and smoke.

The public twitter poll is here!

The patron only Patreon poll is here!

You have until Friday afternoon to get your vote in!

Pigtown – Faceless (Part 5)

He looked like a monster–what in the world had Dick and Ash done to him? No–he could imagine what they did, well enough, even if he’d never seen the dummy itself, after the work. The floppy ears raised a bit too high on his head, the short snout pushing out under his nose and mouth…he could see his face still sliding into place, his nostrils widening at the end of the snout, even as his mouth shifted underneath it. It hurt less, than when his face had first reattached, but it didn’t feel good, and he certainly didn’t like looking at it, either–even if he couldn’t tear his eyes away from himself, from the huge gut, from the stubby cock poking out of a sheath underneath it, and two massive balls swinging below, each the size of a small melon. They were…churning, and not in a sense he’d ever experienced. He felt something well up at the head of his cock, and a slimy tear of precum leaked from the slit, and drooled down to the floor, followed by a steady stream after that. Even his hands and feet were different–especially his feet. He’d assumed walking was difficult just because he was beginning to regain sensation–but he was surprised he could feel anything. His feet were…trotters–thick and wide, but completely inhuman, and his hands were reduced to three clumsy fingers, probably good for holding cocks and not much else.

“Yeah, look at you, you fucking beast. We’ll be goin’ back home together, and you’re gonna be my pet piggy, ain’t ya? You stupid piece of shit?”

Trey didn’t know what to do about his face and body–but he was plenty angry. He’d always been angry, but he’d never had the ability to do much to back it up. But now–sure, he was fat, but there was plenty of muscle packed onto this frame too. He could…fight. He clenched a fist, turned, and swung, slamming it right into Dick’s face, sending him stumbling back into a chair, and then onto the ground behind him. Yeah–that felt good, and he swung around to glower at Ash.

“Fix this,” he tried to say, but it didn’t come out right–which didn’t surprise him, he supposed, but Ash got the message in any case, and Trey stalked over towards him, ready to punch him as well, when he felt something slender wrap it’s way around his neck, tighten down on his windpipe, and bring him down to his knees.

“Bar policy,” a new voice said, “Pets gotta be kept on a leash at all times–for safety’s sake.”

Dick sat up, wiping blood from his nose, and saw the bartender had come around, and was holding the end of the leather leash, connected to the collar wrapped around Trey’s throat, who was pawing at with his useless hands. “Fuck man, thanks.”

“Yeah Rod, I owe you,” Ash said.

The bartender shrugged. “You’ve earned your place here, Ash,” he said, “And you–I like you. But don’t let this thing loose again, or I’ll have it dragging you around instead, got it?”

Rod handed Dick the end of the leash, and he gripped it tight. “No worries man–I won’t let him out of my hand.”

Rod nodded, and walked back behind the bar. Trey kept pawing at the collar for a moment, but couldn’t…quite tell what was wrong. The collar wasn’t choking him physically–if anything, it felt…comfortable, or even necessary. He was a beast after all. A monster. He had to be controlled, and chained, and…and dominated. Just a stupid, dull beast of burden, worthless for much of anything, only good for what it’s master wanted. The collar was choking out his mind, and Ash could see the intellect and fight draining from the pigman’s face, eyes going slack and dark, a line of drool hanging from the front of his snout.

“Better give it a name too–something for the tag,” Rod added, once he was back behind the bar, “How about Troff? Looks like that thing loves shoving its face in ‘em enough.”

“Ha! Yeah, sounds good to me!” Dick said, “How about it, Troff?”

Was…was that him? It sounded right. It sounded like a good name for a stupid, subservient beast like him. His master was standing beside him, and looked like he was hurt–and for some reason, Troff thought that he had done that…but that couldn’t be right. No, Troff would never hurt Master, never in a million years. He’d…hurt whoever did that to Master, is what he’d do.

Dick, through the leash, could sense Troff’s anger, and decided to let the pet off for this one. “Calm down now, pig–here, let’s give you a treat, eh?” Dick said, and pressed the head of his cock to Troff’s snout, and with a delighted grunt, it started sucking on Master’s cock, one thick hand massaging it’s nuts, feeling more and more precum puddle around his knees on the floor. Maybe master would let him lick it up, later–Troff was good at licking shit up, after all. After a moment, Dick got Troff repositioned, so Ash could fuck his ass, and together they brought to pig to a snorting, squealing orgasm, cum pouring from his cock onto the floor, which, like he’d hoped, Dick let the pig lick up after they were all finished.

Ash shook Dick’s hand, and wished him luck with his new life, and his new pig, and then turned to his two gimps, both of whom had watched the entire scene without moving–though with mixed, if limited, feelings. “Alright you two,” Ash said, “I think we’re calling it an early night, tonight, and heading back to my place. I think you’ve earned the privilege of getting your faces back–after we have a little fun with your bodies, eh?”

The end for now…

The Votes are In! (Part 4)

Here are the results from both polls! This was a close one, since the twitter poll ended up tied for first place, which means the Patreon votes played spoiler.

First, the public poll on twitter (which had 60 total votes):

  1. (manly shower) 37% – 22 votes
  2. (old fogey tobacco) 23% – 14 votes
  3. (basement) 37% – 22 votes
  4. (resist) 3% – 2 votes

Second, the private patron only poll on Patreon (which had 39 votes)

  1. (manly shower) 41% – 16 votes
  2. (old fogey tobacco) 28% – 11 votes
  3. (basement) 26% – 10 votes
  4. (resist) 5% – 2 votes

Here’s the total results, out of 99 votes!

  1. (manly shower) 38% – 38 votes
  2. (old fogey tobacco) 25% – 25 votes
  3. (basement) 32% – 32 votes
  4. (resist) 3% – 4 votes

It looks like Maury is going to be taking a shower with some special soaps on Wednesday! Since it was a close one, with Rich in the basement, I’m sure we’ll have to see how the…runoff into the drains is affecting the little rubber man down there as well.

Pigtown – Faceless (Part 4)

“Are you done yet?”

“Would you relax? I’ve never done something like this before. I don’t even know if it’ll work. It might just fuck up everything–who knows if it’ll even fit right.”

“It stretches though.”

“Well yeah, it stretches, but–look, if shit goes screwy with this? It’s not my fucking fault, got it?”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Ash just shook his head, and focused on the dummy in front of him, adding the last few details.

“It looks fucking ready to me–I love the look of that sack on it. Gonna be real fun kickin’ that shit with my boots on.”

“Alright, I think we’re good–or at least, we should be good,” Ash stood up and admired his work–he was surprised he’d never thought of this before, actually…usually when he took a man’s face, they never did end up getting them back. He liked to keep them tucked away, a nice collection of limp masks to mock and tease, tell them where their bodies were, and what men were doing to them. On occasion, he gave a man or two their faces back, usually once their guts were brimming with cum and piss. He…loved the look of their faces turning green, as they felt their bellies sloshing–usually right before stealing their face back. However, he’d never altered the dummy like this before. If it worked…he looked over at the two gimps behind him, and thought of their stupid fucking faces, hanging from hooks in his room. If this worked, he’d have to experiment a bit. He went over to the table and picked up Trey, slipping his hands up inside his face, and testing how flexible he was. More than enough to make it work, he supposed–but whether everything would line up properly was another question altogether. He rolled it up from the neck, so he could be as accurate as possible, pressed the crown of the face to the dummy’s head, and felt it stick.

The ears were tricky, making sure the rubber molds of the dummy pushed out into the ears of the mask–but they did, and the result, as he pulled down the rest, was an odd mix between Trey’s original ears, and his new, floppier ones sitting a bit higher on his head. The same with the nose and mouth–It stretched out over the snout he’d crafted, and it ended up somewhat shorter than he’d made it, but once the mask slipped down to the neck and rejoined with the body, the oddly bulging snout split open, and Trey let out a growling, panting, snorting heave of pain.

Wrong–it was all wrong. Trey hadn’t been able to tell much of what was going on, from where he was lying on the table, but when he’d felt Ash putting his face back on his body, he’d been so thankful, but once he was back, he realized that his body was not quite the same as it had been, when Ash had taken him off. He tried to move his hands to feel what was wrong with it, and why it hurt so much, but he couldn’t. Even though his face was back on, the rest of his body was just numb–he couldn’t feel it, or move it…though there was some progress, actually. His neckline was tingling, and as it did, he could feel sensation spreading down slowly, and he looked down, where life was slowly returning to his dummy body–but what he saw made him groan in horror.

This wasn’t his body–what the fuck did that fucker do to him? His skinny frame was gone–instead, it looked like someone had attached a tire pump to his navel, and pumped him full of lard. He had two massive moobs and a huge gut hanging down, covered in wiry doll hair and swirls of color. Sensation crept down, and he saw the hair and skin turn to flesh, the swirls becoming tattoos embedded in his skin. He tried to speak and protest, turned to his uncle and plead…but that wasn’t his uncle, looming over him. It looked a bit like him, but those eyes, and that sneer–this was someone else entirely.

The words didn’t come out right–there was something very wrong with his mouth, but he didn’t know what, exactly. Dick took his fingers and shoved them into Trey’s mouth, feeling around, checking it out. “Feels right–looks like it figured out what we wanted.”

“Good, I was hoping it would work like that,” Ash said, “Gotta say, it’s pretty fucking sick, man. In a good way.”

“Hell yeah it’s fuckin’ sick! Nice ‘n wet too. Gonna feel pretty fuckin’ great on my cock.”

The sensation in Trey’s body was coming back faster now, and had almost reached his fingers. He just…had to wait a moment more, but when Dick rubbed the head of his cock against his…mouth or nose, or whatever was wrong with his face, he couldn’t let it happen. He shoved him away, the force of it sending him toppling backwards. He rolled over, tried to force himself up, but his legs weren’t cooperating yet. So he crawled away, as best he could, until he could force himself upright. There, standing a few feet away from the bar, he saw his reflection in the mirror behind the bartender, and froze. It…it couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be. That thing, it wasn’t him, it had to be wrong, some cheap trick.

Dick came up behind him, and caught him in a hug, grinding his cock against Trey’s ass. “What do you think pig? Suits you, don’t it?”

Pigtown – Faceless (Part 3)

It wasn’t the best head Ash had ever gotten. There was a bit too much teeth, but Dick made up for it in raw hunger and enthusiasm. After a couple of minutes, he pulled away, gasping a bit, and gave Ash’s cock a couple of strokes. “Fuck, it’s better than I fucking imagined, fuck! Could fucking do this all damn night.”

Ash took the opportunity to pull away a bit. “Look, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I…you shouldn’t be here. I took your fucking face.”

“No, you took his face,” Dick said, pointing to Dirk’s mask, which was still lying on the table nearby. “I’ve been under there, trying to get out for fucking ages! All I needed was one good mid-life crisis, but no, he just has to keep bundling up all his shame and bullshit, like I’m just going to fucking go the fuck away! No–fuck him, piece of shit nobody. Never did fuckall with himself. Could have been getting all the damn dick this whole time, but just cooped himself up,” he stood up, and turned to the face on the table, “No fuckin’ more, I’ll tell ya that! You fuckin’ hear that, ya fuck? I’m not going back under there, never!”

“Dang man, calm down, it’s all good here, trust me,” Ash said, “You don’t have to put it back on.” Now that Dick was standing again, Ash noticed something else–that his body was changing as well. It was his skin that he noticed–it was…flaking, and when Dick idly scratched his arm, big chunks fell off, revealing more beneath it–but it wasn’t the same pink. No, it was colorful–and it took another few curls coming away for Ash to realize they were tattoos. “I think…the rest of him is coming off man.”

Dick looked down at his arms, and he started picking at the skin peeling away, and then hauled off Dirk’s clothes as well, until he was standing there naked, rubbing and picking at himself as Dirk fell away from him. “Yeah, fuck–no wonder I felt so fuckin’ itchy…” Dick said, gave his cock a few rough strokes, and the entire skin slid off, revealing a much more sizable, eight inch member with a hefty foreskin. “Fuck yeah–might need to find someone to wrap their lips ‘round this thing soon enough too,” Dick said, “You up to it Ash?”

Ash shook his head, “No, I prefer to top.”

“Whatever, it’s all good to me–I haven’t done any of it after all!” Dick said with a long laugh, and the last of Dirk’s skin fell away, leaving him free at last. There were some similarities, between the two of them. They had the same general shape–that is, out of shape–though Dick’s potbelly was closer to a proper gut. He wasn’t much hairier than Dirk had been, but he was quite a bit more rank, and his feet and hands were quite a bit larger, as were some of the features of his face, like someone had exaggerated everything just slightly, enough that any one thing would be natural, but together, it all seemed a bit..strange, and rather ugly. The lank hair didn’t help, longer than Dirk had ever left it grow, and the scruffy beard.

He looked down at Dirk’s clothes, and have them a kick with his foot. “I sure as hell ain’t puttin’ this shit back on though,” he said, “I like that, what you’re wearing. You got anymore of that?” He walked up to Ash and ran his hands along the rubber shirt he was wearing. “Yeah, fuck, I bet that feels amazing.”

Ash grinned, “Yeah, I can whip something up for you man, no worries. Rubber’s my specialty.” He got down and picked up Dirk’s shirt from the floor, and where his fingers touched it, the well-worn cotton began to shift. At first glance, in the low light, it looked like it was disappearing, but Dick could see…something catching the light in Ash’s hands, and when he handed the shirt over to him, Ash gave him a wink. “It’s be a shame to cover up that artwork, though, don’t you think?”

Dick realized the shirt was clear rubber, and he wormed his arms into it and pulled it on, loving how…constricting it felt against his skin, even though it didn’t look like he was wearing anything at all, his body just…gleaming slightly. “Yeah, fuck, this shit rocks.”

Ash was already working on the rest of the clothing, and a few minutes later, Dick was clothed again, though in a very different outfit than before. He had on rubber chaps now, his cock and balls hanging free, a black rubber vest, and two thick soled waders up his calves.

“Man, fuck,” Ash said, admiring the rubbered up roughneck standing in front of him, “It isn’t what I was fucking planning, but I gotta say, it suits you, Dick.”

“Yeah?” Dick asked, and moved in close, pressing their rubbered over chest together, “Then how about that dick sucking? You wanna give me some tips? I feel like I was doin’ that shit all wrong.”

“Nah man, I got a better idea,” Ash said, and pointed at Trey’s dummy body, still lying on the floor a few feet away, “Why don’t you have the honor of blowing the first load into that cumdumps guts, in a few minutes?”

Dick narrowed his eyes, at the limp figure, walked over, and planted his rubber wader on the side of its head and pressed down. It gave in slightly, like a solid rubber object might. “Nah, cumdumps too good for this fuck. This place is too go for him–piece a shit. We can do better than that, don’t you think?”

Ash shrugged.

“What happens if we put the mask back on him now?”

“He’ll be right back to himself,” Ash said.

“And what is he now?”

“Just rubber, really. I can do pretty much anything I want with it. Why, you have something else in mind?”

Dick had picked up Trey’s face from the table, and gave it a stretch, watching the features warp, eyes grimacing in pain–or he liked to imagine they were, at least. “Yeah, I have an idea for sure. A real fucking good one, too.”

Winter Vacation [Interactive] (Part 4)

“Boy–Boy! Are you even listening to me?”

Brett snapped out of his thoughts, and looked back at Maury, sitting there on the sofa, rolls splayed out around him. “I just…I was thinking…”

“Boy, you know better than that–you don’t think. Just let daddy do the thinking for you, got it?”

Daddy–who was daddy? As Brett asked himself the question, the answer came to him–Maury was daddy, of course. He was the biggest, he was in charge–he was just…just daddy. It only made sense. He was daddy, and that made him the boy, and boys had to obey their daddies no matter what. Brett chased himself around the logical loop for a moment, and then let off a sigh–he was doing it again, wasn’t he? Thinking. Such a silly boy, he could be! “S-Sorry daddy, I’ll go make breakfast!”

Brett waddled out the room, finding it a bit…awkward, walking with such a substantial gut, but it was already beginning to feel more normal. He was a big boy after all–not as big as his daddy, but maybe one day he would be, if he was good. He found his way to the kitchen, and thankfully the pantry and fridge were fully stocked. Part of him wondered why that was–after all, they hadn’t brough any of this food along with them–it was almost like someone had prepared the place for them ahead of time. Still, that seemed like thinking, and he wasn’t supposed to think–just cook. He put on an apron and started mixing up some batter for pancakes, frying bacon and sausage, and looking for whatever else would make the best breakfast for his daddy.

Back in the TV room, Maury heaved a sigh. “Too smart for his own good, that one.”

Nate nodded, “Not like me daddy–what…what can I do for you?” he asked, and stepped closer, both hands resting on Maury’s gut, kneading it slightly, making him moan.

“Sounds like to me you have your own ideas, boy,” Maury said, and pulled him closer, Nate toppling over onto Maury’s gut with a groan, grinding his hard cock into his daddy’s fatty rolls. “Get under there and suck me off boy–and when you’re done, go help Brett with breakfast, and make sure he hasn’t gotten any other big ideas while he’s alone in there.

Nate was more than happy to follow his daddy’s orders, hefted up his massive apron of fat, lined with countless stretchmarks, and found his cock. Daddy didn’t last very long, and fifteen minutes later, with a gut full of daddy’s cum and beaming, Nate followed the sounds of pots and pans–and the smell of bacon–into the kitchen, where Brett was busy working at the stove.

“How’s it going, little bro?” Nate asked, and leaned in close, breathing his cum breath into Brett’s face.

Brett recognized the scent, and his chubby face went red with jealousy. “Hey, no fair!”

“Sorry bro–being the big bro has its perks, you know?” Nate said, and bumped his gut against Brett’s pushing him slightly off balance.

“Only by like, ten pounds,” Brett muttered, but he knew it didn’t matter. Nate was bigger than him, and that meant he was in charge–just like daddy.

“Here, I know what’ll perk you up–let me handle the skillet for a bit, I have something else you should focus on for a while.” Nate put his hand on Brett’s head, and pushed him down, and he fell to his knees, his big bro’s thick cock jutting out. He licked his lips, hungrily–it wasn’t daddy’s cock, but Brett enjoyed sucking off his brother just as much, if that’s all he could get, and so he started sucking and slobbering on it, groping his own cock while he did under his apron. Nate tended to the bacon, thrusting gently into his brother’s mouth, and took a few sample pieces for himself. Had to stay big, after all–he wasn’t about to let Brett pass him, if he could help it.

Meanwhile, Maury heaved a sigh on the couch. Now that he was alone…he wasn’t quite sure what he should be doing. In fact, all of this did seem a bit strange to him, now that he was thinking about it. Was the boy right? No–no, that was a silly thought. Boy’s weren’t right about anything–that’s why they need daddies, to tell them what to do! Still, he needed to do something, but he just couldn’t quite put his finger on what.

It took some effort, and he very nearly had to holler for his boys to come help, but he managed to get himself out of the sofa and onto his feet, though he was hot and panting by the time he made it. One thing he knew for certain, was that he needed to piss–he waddled his way into the bathroom and while it was hard to maneuver himself at the urinal, he managed well enough to get his piss into the basin, listening to it drain down below, and kept trying to think about what he needed to do. He thought hard, and could almost…hear a buzzing and humming in his ears as he did, and the thought came to him like a light bulb. “Of course!” he muttered to himself, shook his cock free of piss, and stepped back from the urinal, ready for his next task.

What does Maury do, while waiting for breakfast?

  1. Take a shower with some odd, masculine soap
  2. Smoke a pipe filled with Old Fogey brand tobacco
  3. Check on the pipes in the basement
  4. Come to his senses and resist

The public twitter poll is here!

The patron only Patreon poll is here!

Voting ends on Monday afternoon!

The Votes are In! (Part 3)

Here are the results from both polls!

First, the public poll on twitter (which had 59 total votes):

  1. (give in, make breakfast) 41% – 24 votes
  2. (resist, get punished) 19% – 11 votes
  3. (resist, find Rich) 32% – 19 votes
  4. (resist, find clothes and escape) 8% – 5 votes

Second, the private patron only poll on Patreon (which had 33 votes)

  1. (give in, make breakfast) 24% – 8 votes
  2. (resist, get punished) 31% –  10 votes
  3. (resist, find Rich) 21% – 7 votes
  4. (resist, find clothes and escape) 24% – 8 votes

Here’s the total results, out of 92 votes!

  1. (give in, make breakfast) 34% – 32 votes
  2. (resist, get punished) 24% – 22 votes
  3. (resist, find Rich) 28% – 26 votes
  4. (resist, find clothes and escape) 14% – 13 votes

Alright! It looks like whatever is going on in the house keeps control for the time being. Brett will make his two friends breakfast, and then we’ll see what else this vacation has in store for them all tomorrow!