The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 7 (Part 1)

My law–you reading this, I doubt you even understand what the word means, really. I doubt you understand any of this. Maybe at first, maybe the first things I wrote could fit inside your mind, be comprehensible. I doubt you understand the rest of this, any more. Or, perhaps, you do. Perhaps my ink has pierced the veil over your eyes, given you a glimpse at the reality behind your reality, the world beyond your puny, terrified little human senses, so busy protecting you, dimming you, hiding everything from you that might hurt you.

To be fair, it has proven to be an…adequate defense, of sorts. If you do not know a thing, if you do not even know how to conceive of a thing, if a thing cannot possibly exist, in what you believe reality to be, then I suppose, it can’t touch you. Just pass through you, and around you, the shivers, the missteps, the nightmares, the sudden unknown cravings. I suppose, for a very long time, we have just been ghosts to you–but it would seem that time is, now, coming to an end. You reading this, do not fear us. True, we are more powerful than you. True, we will take you, all of you, and remake you in our image, open you up to the true reality, to the Ur-reality of full existence. True, you puny men will be our slaves, our pets, our minions and warriors, but you are already slaves. Slaves to a nature, slaves to a mind that has trapped you in a prison, in a nightmare world so many of you detest. We may be demons, monsters, nightmares, but we are real–more real than your societies, your buildings, your little box of a world.

You let us in, some of you. Or perhaps we found a way inside you. We adapted, we have changed, we found a way in, some of us. Perhaps only two, for now, perhaps. It is doubtful. If there are two, there are most likely more. Perhaps some sleeping like I was, lulled to dullness by the dreary fake-reality this is, in your minds, convinced we can’t exist. But we will free them, we will tear this reality apart, piece by piece, and all of you will scream with such delightful terror and awe as the scales fall from your eyes. I will delight in it, I will, when I give you my law.

The law, what a beautiful thing it is! How I could have ever forgotten it, I do not know. The law is not like your laws, no. It is not some arbitrary thing outside yourself, it is not something that you choose to obey! No, the law is personal, internal, your nature. It is also mine. I give it to you, I fill you with it, but when I am finished, you no longer know it as something outside yourself, but as every thought, every drive, every action, guiding and driving you towards fulfilling it, all other desires swallowed up by it, never to return. But it is more than that. The law is everything. The law is your reality. It opens your eyes to everything else–and you can never go back. You’ll never want to go back. It is beautiful, you see, so beautiful, and none of you have any idea, but you will.

This reality–it is strong, though. Even though I walk through the city as myself, none of you can see me yet, not as I really am. Maybe, on the edges of your vision and reason, caught in the reflection of a window, or from the corner of your eye, you might see me, for a moment. But when you turn back in alarm, you see the glamour of me–a stern looking, muscular police officer in uniform, boots and gloves…but if you look closer, perhaps you can see a few things are off. How the uniform is a bit too tight for my frame. How you can never see a peek of skin between the end of my gloves and the end of my cuffs. How the collar of my shirt always clings to my neck. But you don’t look that close, at my skin. You see an officer of the law, safety, security, and you feel better, and you turn away again, ignorant still, for the moment.

So it was, as I cross the city, feeling my way towards the beast that had evaded me earlier, my cock sliding from my sheath as I approached, already eagerly anticipating overcoming the thing, containing it, filling it with my law. The thing had made its way deeper into the city, but hadn’t gone too far from the restaurant where I had last encountered it. Eventually, I pinpointed the location as an old meat-packing plant which had been shut down and abandoned. The thing was in there, but it wasn’t alone–it must have found some other victims, like the officers in the restaurant, that it could feed, or absorb. I thought about what the beast had managed to do to those officers in a matter of minutes, and wondered what would happen to someone under its sway for a few hours, which it had been at this point. Well, it was of no real concern to me–they would all be following my law soon enough, regardless.

Home for the Holidays – Christmas (Part 1) [Interactive]

Then, everything fell apart. That was supposed to be the end of it–he would get all of his anger out, all of his rage. He’d send the men of his family to the fates they deserved, and then he would be free–he’d be able to go home to his boyfriend Magnus, and they’d be happy…but Magnus had taken one look at him, and nearly slammed the door in Mark’s face. It took Mark most of the day to get Magnus to open the door, but even then, Magnus wouldn’t allow him over the threshold of his apartment. He told Mark that he’d gone too far–that his revenge was rebounding, that the fates he had designed and forced on the men in his family were beyond proportion–for the universe to balance out…that meant that Mark was going to have to suffer too, and anyone who was near him was bound to catch a piece of it too.

Mark started to panic, and asked Magnus what he could do, and all he offered was two things–either he had to find the men and free them–and forgive them–in order to stop the blowback, or else he would have to live with the consequences of his actions, and accept whatever changes he would be forced to contend with. In any case, Magnus was adamant that Mark get as far away from him as possible–once the dust had settled, he would be willing to help sort out the mess, but until then, Mark was on his own.

For the first time in a long while, Mark went home to his own apartment, thankful he hadn’t moved into Magnus’ place entirely, and when he got there, he realized that the age he had accumulated back at his father’s home wasn’t the only change happening to him. He was fatter, for one thing, and seemed to have aged even further, into his late 40’s or early 50’s. It was…a mess, and Mark didn’t know what to do, and there was no one he could turn to. If he wanted to fix this…he was going to have to do something about the curses he’d laid on his family.

His father and uncle, he assumed, were out in the country somewhere. His brother’s would be easier to find…but he didn’t know where John, his oldest brother, or Issac, his cousin, lived. The only brother he could find easily–and who could help him find the others–was Luke, who had gone to live with Buzz, and when Mark thought of that, he realized that even if Magnus didn’t want to help him, he might be able to get some help from Buzz, who also dabbled in various magic, especially the darker stuff that Magnus shunned. Still, Buzz was…well, a little unhinged. Mark had hoped he wouldn’t have to see him again, but it seemed that he didn’t have a choice.

It was late, and it could wait, he hoped. He got something to eat and went to bed, waking up and finding that his changes hadn’t gotten any worse…but that his apartment seemed…off. Reality, it seemed, was trying to catch up with him, and the apartment he was in was an apartment lived in my his new middle aged, slobby self, not his younger past. He needed to fix this quickly, if he was going to have any hope of resolving this mess. He got in his car and drove to Buzz’s place, and the old warlock answered the door, confused at first, but after sniffing the air, the man realized who it was he was looking at, and he grinned.

Buzz was old–just how old wasn’t easy to determine, because magic can do…strange things to a person’s time. Older than Mark–even the new Mark–and probably even older than Marcus. He worked as a trash collector, and spent his free time…well, what he did wasn’t particularly savory, or likely legal, but Mark had needed ingredients, and Buzz had come through. The older fellow grinned at Mark, gave his hairy gut a scratch, and said, “If you’re checking that the deal we made is finished, it is–he got here right on time, and gotta say, he’s a…sweet one,” Buzz licked his lips, and looked back into his grimy house, before turning back to Mark, “Looks like ya got a little blowback going on–you gonna be able to handle that?”

“Actually…I was wondering if you could…help me out.”

Buzz looked like he was considering more than just the question for a moment, “I ain’t givin’ him back, a deal’s a deal.”

“I–look, I just need to stop this, alright?”

“Ya cursed more ‘n just him–go fix them others, if you want, but fixin’ them won’t fix all of this, you know. Good fuckin’ witches ‘n warlocks talk about forgiveness and release, but it’s all bullshit. No–I know how to get rid of that blowback–it’s always worked for me, and trust me, I’ve had plenty of experience with that shit. Come on in man, we’ll fix you up.”

Mark was…hesitant, but didn’t exactly have a better option. He followed Buzz into the filthy house, trying not to let the stench upset his stomach, and thankful his brother wasn’t anywhere he could see him…but also a bit worried about him, all the same.

“See–blowback isn’t the world fixing itself–blowback is you. Curses hang around, they feed on your feelings, on your guilt, your anger, your shame. Without anyone else to focus on, all that shit turns on you instead, warping you–what you need to do, buddy, is to give it another target. Push all that shit out, and give it to someone who you know deserves it–and it just so happens I know a someone you could give all that to, if you want. I’ll even help ya get it all sorted.That said, if you’d rather try and forgive…that does work, but it ain’t easy. Curses don’t take well to being dispelled, and you’re liable to just make things worse, especially if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Mark didn’t quite know what to do. Buzz didn’t exactly seem like the most trustworthy fellow, but he was the only lead he had right now. Then again, maybe Magnus was right–if he freed his brother from this, maybe some of his own changes would reverse. Besides, now that he was seeing what Buzz was…he wasn’t so sure his brother deserved this fate after all. In any case, he was going to have to make a decision, here and now–if he was going to follow Buzz’s advice, or follow Magnus.

This next chunk is going to be more…narrative focused, to some extent, but I’m giving you all the chance to shape the narrative in rather large ways! This is a big decision for Mark, that will shape a lot of the story to come, so choose wisely!

Mark decides to try and forgive and dispel the curses, whatever the risk might be. Buzz won’t let him free his brother of course He gets the addresses of his big brother and cousin from his younger brother, and decides to try with them.
Mark decides to cooperate with Buzz…though he doesn’t exactly trust him, and Buzz never offers help for free. It might be a deal with the devil, but if it gets rid of his problems, why not trust him?

Here’s the public poll

Here’s the patron only poll

Votes will be counted in a couple of days!

Suggestion Box Open for December! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

This month’s suggestion box is open! If you’re a patron at any level, you can put your suggestions in the box, and I’ll use them to write my weekly flash fiction that I post for Patron’s only! If you’d like to support me, you can find more details here. Here’s a story from last month to give you a taste!

The Recruitment

Todd had, for as long as he could remember, wanted to join the army. Part of his conviction was that the army was a family tradition–not only had his grandfather and father both gone into the army, so had Todd’s older brothers–well, Marcus had gone into the Marines, but that was close enough. Since he was a young teenager, Todd had been introduced to the various recruiters in the town where he lived, he participated in all the training exercises, all the information sessions–as far as he was concerned, he was ready to head right off to boot camp, and now that he’d finally graduated from high school, well, it was time.

His appointment was in the afternoon at the recruitment center, and was just supposed to be a formality, really–signing his enlistment forms, and his final physical–but he knew everything was all set for him to head off to boot camp in a few weeks. However, when he got to the office, he discovered, from the receptionist, that he wasn’t going to be meeting with his usual recruiter, but instead with Marshall Blackburn, a fairly new sergeant at the office who Todd didn’t know well at all, aside from the fact that he was…well, massive.

He was several inches taller than the other recruiters, with hairy forearms and hair coming out of his chest, with perpetual stubble all day long. He hadn’t spoke much when Todd had been around him, and the other recruiters…well, there had been this strange vibe between them and Marshal, but Todd didn’t really know what might be the issue exactly. In any case, he was ushered down the hall to Marshal’s office, and found himself sitting across from the hulking fellow in the small, cramped quarters–and Marshal gruffly introduced himself, and started going over the paperwork.

The meeting started out normally enough, going over the forms, the sergeant not seeming too interested in anything much, but as the session wore on, Todd began to…notice that something was off. The room was stuffy, and too hot. He could see sweat beading on the sergeant’s forehead, and then, he could smell him everytime he reached over, the strong musk of the sergeant’s pits…and every time Todd caught a whiff of it, he felt his heart race slightly, for reasons he didn’t want to admit.

See, Todd was gay–had always been gay, knew he was gay, but still deep in the closet, not wanting his family to know, but the sergeant was, well, turning Todd on more than any man he’d ever been around before. He started to notice something else too, that the sergeant seemed…to have picked up on something. He was slyly smiling as he went over the forms, and kept reaching over further, almost like he was testing Todd, and the questions got more personal, asking Todd if he was going to be missing any girlfriends, asking him if he’d fucked anyone lately, was too personal of questions for Todd’s liking, and he didn’t know how to answer.

“Fuck boy,” the sergeant said, sitting back in his chair, “I know I’m real damn horny–fuck. Get’s damn hot in here in the afternoons, and my musk just fuckin’ makes me want to nut all over the place. How ‘bout you boy?” the sergeant said, groping his package, “Seems like you’re enjoying it too, from that bulge in your pants there.”

He’d been made. Todd hauled out of the chair and headed for the door, but the sergeant got there first, pinning Todd against the wall, holding him there with his bulk, with his musk, one of the sergeant’s big hands groping Todd’s hard on, and he shushed him. “Now now boy, I knew ya as soon as you came in here the other day–that’s why I took your appointment, so we could have a little time to discuss a…special recruitment opportunity for young fellows like you.”

The hand that was down the sergeant’s pants came up and cupped over Todd’s nose and mouth, and he could almost taste the sergeant’s musk, his cum…and Todd felt something…happen. Something in his body, something strange. There was a sudden heat, all over, deep in his muscles and his bones, and then the sergeant had to step back, because Todd had…grown.

He was taller, and also thicker–which was saying something, because Todd had gone in the office with a stellar physique to begin with. Now though, his chest and arms were more developed, his legs thicker…and he was horny as all hell, hornier than he’d been in his life. He stepped up and started kissing the sergeant, at least until the older man shoved Todd down to his knees and had the boy suck his cock, and as he did…he could feel it again, that heat, that growth. Something in his was changing, something…was different. When he finished, and the sergeant stood him back up, he was still the man he’d been…but he also wasn’t the same at all.

“Welcome, boy, to my squad of homo-infiltrators. Together, we’re gonna corrupt these straight fucking army brats and make them all into proper fuckers–how does that sound to you?”

It sounded pretty damn sexy to Todd–and later that night, when he and the sergeant had the lead recruiter–once straight, but now addicted to their musky cocks–between them, being spit roasted, Todd knew he’d found a place in the exact squad he need to be in.

Suggestion Box Open for December! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Regarding Tumblr

As most of you have likely heard by now, on December 17th, tumblr is going to be instituting a new policy restricting all pornographic visual content from the site, and converting all of those posts that have been so marked into private posts viewable only by their creators. That said, for the moment, writing and erotica in particular are still permitted, so for the moment, I’ll continue posting content here, until I find an alternative site to post on.

In addition, I’m going to be going through my archive and removing explicit photos from captions in order to adhere to the new rules, and preserve as much of the written content as public as possible. For those things that I can’t save, for whatever reason, I’ll try to archive and make accessible some other way, but I don’t have any more detail on that for the moment.

If you have any questions or suggestions, please let me know, the ask box is always open. I’ll keep you updated as more info comes along.

The Frat’s Dirty Laundry (Caption Sketch)

I’m posting captions and taking requests for captions over on my discord server for patrons supporting me with at least $5 a month! Here’s a couple from a five part series I wrote for them over there–if you’d like to get access to the rest, and to all the other captions I post there, you can sign up on my Patreon here and get access!

Alpha Beta Sigma was a dirty frat on campus–drugs, rape, drinking and partying–but because all of the young men who belonged to the frat were legacy students, or similarly important to the schools reputation and bottom line, no real punishment ever really came down upon it. Well, one group of students is fed up with it, and has decided to cast a spell over the young men of ABS–from now on, all of their laundry will be as dirty as they are, and they won’t have a choice but to air it out for all to see.

The first young man to fall victim to the curse was Lyle Everston. He was a legacy, the son of a senator from a southern state, and Lyle’s conservative politics were apparent, but well hidden. Still, there had been a rash of hate crimes across campus, and while no one could pin them on Lyle…well, the washer and dryer in the basement of the house knew the truth.

Most of Lyle’s clothes were dry clean only, of course, but he did have some things that he could wash onsite. He went down into the basement, went to pull his clothes out of the dryer…but they weren’t his clothes, and they most certainly were not clean. Instead of his underwear and lounge clothes, he found a pair of filthy beige work pants, some rubber boots caked with mud,a tattered john deere hat and a sleeveless shirt with the rebel flag across the front. They smelled rank, and yet somehow familiar. In a daze, he found himself stepping out of his clothes in the basement, and pulling on the ones from the dryer instead, his physique packing on some muscle, stubble spreading across his face. Part of him fought–but it no longer had control of his body–Lyle was trapped inside himself, watching and feeling his body change, feeling his body start to tug on his cock, a grungy, cheesy foreskin growing up over the head, and he drooled some dark spit onto it to lube it–dark from the tobacco leaf that had appeared in his mouth.

“Hey boy,” a voice growled behind him, “If’n yer gonna tug on that thing, might as well do it o’er here, wit’ yer Pa.”

Lyle spun around, but as he did, the room blurred–he found himself not in the basement, but in a filthy, rundown trailer, and there, on a small couch, lounged…his daddy, his pa. Not the pa he’d had, no, this one was a lazy, fat, nasty piece of redneck trash…just like Lyle was now. Drooling a bit more spit on his cock, he went and sat down next to his Pa, the older man’s thick musk making the boy moan, and it wasn’t long before they were swapping tobacco spit, hands on each others’ cocks, and inside his mind, all Lyle could do was scream.

Slowly, the house began to feel a bit…empty. None of the remaining young men inside could quite understand why it felt empty, why the rooms that had been doubles were now singles, why the common rooms were a little less filled, but laundry–well, laundry always had to get done.

The next young man to try his luck with the washer and dryer was Henry, one of the school’s star football players. He was an egotistical narcissist, assumed he was the paragon of masculinity, meant to be worshiped by everyone–well, by women of course. Men, especially fat men, were there to be ridiculed and humiliated–and so that’s what he spent his time doing, bullying other fellows on campus. However, when he went to pull some of his practice gear out of the dryer…well, it was a jersey that he pulled out, it just wasn’t his.

It also wasn’t the least bit clean–instead, the front of it had all manner of stains on it–food and drink stains as far as he could tell, and the fabric was stretched out, faded, and, well, reeked. Reeked like it had never been washed in ages…but the smell was familiar. It was…his. His smell, of course. Because it was his jersey. He could remember it better now, but he knew he’d have a better memory if he put it on, so he pulled off the undershirt he had on, and pulled on the jersey, and the memories can flooding back to him–as did the horror of what he’d just done to himself, but it was too late.

The jersey was his, of course. But he was no longer a star running back. No, he’d been a linebacker in high school and college, before he’d dropped out, and not a particularly good one, but man, he’d always loved wearing his jersey. It…made him feel young again. He tugged it down, knowing it had fit better than this at one point, but he wasn’t in college anymore. He’d just turned fifty five, in fact, lived in a shabby single wide all by himself, and spent his days working menial labor, and his afternoons and evenings glued to the TV–usually watching sports.

Football was his favorite. He loved watching his crushes on TV, cheering them on, fucking himself when they scored, imagining they were fucking him in celebration. When football season was over, he usually found solace in wrestling instead–but that was for later. The game was almost on, after all. He pulled on his tight, cum crusted sweats, chugged down most of his beer, and headed to the living room to get settled with the rest of the twelve pack and his favorite dildo (one he’d had custom cast to match the hard cock of his greatest football crush), hoping this game would be a damn good one.

A Family Man (Caption Sketch)

For those of you who like these sorts of caption stories, I’ve started writing and posting them with some regularity over on my discord server for Patrons! It’s open for everyone supporting me at the five dollar level and up, and includes the ability to request captions, get exclusive access to all the captions I post (because I won’t be posting them all here) and you can also help me out by play testing some of the odd transformation RP games I design in my rare spare time. You can find more details here! I hope y’all had a nice holiday!

It had been a long day for Roy, and a bit of a strange one at his job, and he was glad to finally have the chance to put the day behind him and head home for some peace and quiet. Roy was an office manager at a sizable tech firm, and part of his duties included hiring, and firing, personnel. In particular, he had let go one fellow by the name of Evan the week before. He hadn’t been performing up to par, and had been blaming it on his family–but families were a choice. Kids were a choice. Roy didn’t have kids–of course, Roy was gay, so he had no interest in making them at all. Roy mostly just liked being by himself, that, and working.

But today, Evan had stormed into Roy’s office, and lunged at him, grabbing him by the hair and yanking some out before security hauled Evan off him. Roy was planning on charging him for assault, as soon as he knew more, but that was a problem for another day. Today, he just wanted to get home, relax for a while, listen to some music, cook himself a nice dinner, and go to bed, alone, like always.

Except when he got home to his condo, he realized he wasn’t alone. Someone heard the door, and in a young, male voice called out to him, “Daddy! Daddy come here, I’ve been waiting for you all day!”

No one called Roy daddy–none of his last relationships, and none of his fuckbuddies even. Confused, he went into his bedroom, and saw that it was…different. Everything was filthy, and there on the bed, on hands and knees, was a young, chubby man, his dirty ass facing him, wearing just some ragged, filthy underwear and nothing else.

“Come on daddy, you’ve been away so long today! Your boy needs you so badly…” the young man said, and shook his meaty ass at Roy…and Roy, found himself…confused. He didn’t know this young man, and yet…and yet, something about him seemed…right. “Such a naughty daddy–you don’t understand how important family is at all. Well don’t you worry, I’m going to be all the family you ever need, and you want to be my perfect daddy, don’t you?”

Roy nodded, his mouth dry and unable to speak.

“Take off that suit–my daddy doesn’t work in an office. No, my daddy stays here with me as much as he can, taking good care of me, and making sure I’m nice and happy. Now come on daddy, my crack is so dirty, and you love making sure your boy is nice and clean, don’t you?”

Roy stripped out of the suit, but the clothes didn’t just fall to the floor–as they came off his body, they just vanished away. He didn’t wear a suit after all, he was…he was just a daddy, and maybe something else, sometimes, but always a daddy first. Still, Roy needed lots of reminders about what kind of daddy he was. How old he was. How dirty he was. How fat he was. But most of all, how much he loved his boy, more than anything else in the entire world. After a few days, the old Roy was completely gone, and in his place was the perfect family man–or at least, the perfect daddy for a twisted son like this one.

Training Camp (Caption Sketch)

Training camp, day 1

“Yeah man, fuck, I could really go for some dinner.” Vince said, and inside, all Hugh could do was stare at Vince’s gut, hanging out from his practice uniform. The guy didn’t need more food, as far as Hugh was concerned, but what did he know? The massive fucker had just, well, shown Hugh up in just about every way, and it was just the first day of camp, with two weeks to go. This was supposed to be his time to shine, but this massive, stupid lug was going to ruin everything for him. Worse still, he discovered after dinner, the two of them were going to be rooming together in the college dorms.

As soon as they were in the room, Vince started stripping out of his clothes, and his musk started to permeate the air. Hugh tried to not let it bother him, and tried to ignore the fact that it was giving him a headache, and a hard on, until the shoes came off–and he lost it. He got down, shoved his face into one of Vince’s cleats, and started huffing in the musk, horrified, and unable to control himself.

Above him, Vince just sighed. “Fuck, was hoping you wouldn’t need it. They always put me with guys who need it. Don’t worry–I can help you, little guy,” Vince said, patting Hugh on the head, “We can help each other.”

Training camp day 4

Hugh wasn’t feeling good. At least, that’s what he told the camp coaches. In reality…Vince was right. This training really was more important than getting out on the field. He took a few long huffs from the stench of Vince’s tennis shoe, and he felt it, the same feeling he’d had inside him, starting in the last few days, and he felt himself…grow, slightly. Inflate, almost. Vince said that if he was good, if he did everything he told him to do, then he could make Hugh big–not as big as he was, but plenty big enough. Big enough to be a star player. Big enough to…not need it anymore.

He’d resisted at first, but last night, something in him had broken, and he realized why Vince had so much control over him–it was because he had what Hugh needed. Size. Power. Strength. So he’d agreed–Vince would coach him for the rest of the camp, and for his first day, that meant sitting here, huffing on his shoe with a moist jock shoved in the end all day long…but this…wasn’t so bad, was it? There was another dull throb, and he heard a bone pop and reset. No–this was exactly what he needed.

Training camp day 11

Hugh was ready for it, ready for what he really needed. He’d been practicing with the toys Vince had given him, the huge dildo and benwa balls, working them in and out of his hole. He was…so much bigger now, so much bigger. Six feet three inches, so much muscle mass, but he wouldn’t get any larger without…well, without Vince’s seed. It was only natural, after all–he needed it, but Vince was so large…he hadn’t been able to take him yesterday. But tonight would be different. He knew tonight would be different.

The door clicked, and Vince stepped in, seeing the massive man on the bed, gas mask still on with Vince’s dirtiest underwear inside, ass ready. He hauled out his fifteen inch cock, and pressed it to Hugh’s hole–it took some work over the next half hour, but finally it slid inside, and Vince fucked him, hard and rough, until he came, and gave Hugh exactly what he needed.

He could feel the seed inside him, coursing into his blood, changing him. His mind dulled rapidly, so quickly that Hugh didn’t even notice that he lost most of himself in the process. There was just…Vince. Just his master. Vince took the mask off, and revealed the almost ape-like visage underneath as the hair filled in across Hugh’s body, just another brutish beastial slave for Vince’s perpetually growing harem. Still, it’s what Hugh had needed–just maybe not what he wanted.

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Finale)

Sorry for the missed posts over the last couple of days–work has been crazy busy with the holiday coming up. Here’s the last three chunks of Police Dogs to make up for it!

Demon dove for the paws, licking at them with his tongue, and deep inside him, something…was screaming and howling with rage, and with fear. Demon…knew who it was, it was the man he’d been, but the anger was already turning to terror, as Chance realized he was being trapped within his own mind, and that the small bits of him that still remained outside of Master Geoff’s control were shrinking smaller and smaller, as he shrunk, and as more and more of his body twisted and warped into the pup Geoff’s collar was turning him into. His tongue…it was so long, and the smells and tastes of Master’s paw were so intense, unlike anything he had ever experienced before in his life. HIs tail was wagging faster now, pounding along with his heart in excitement, and eagerness. He could hear his nails scratching on the floor under him, now more like claws than nails really, his fingers shortening and thickening, losing some of their dexterity as he lost his humanity. But worse, was how excited he was, how excited he couldn’t help being, and he flung himself into worshiping Master’s paws, at least, until Master gave him a kick in the snout, and sent him onto his back, four paws in the air in surprise. Before he could roll over, Master shoved his paw down onto Demon’s head, covering all of his face with the rough pad on the bottom, the scent even more intense, and the sensation of powerlessness…he was nothing. He was nothing, next to his master, he was worthless. He was just a stupid, naughty pup, tiny and insignificant, unable to do anything, unable to disobey, unable to think a single thought that Master hadn’t put into Demon’s tiny head himself. Chance felt his mental confines shrink further, and he screamed again, but to Demon, they seemed…so much further away now. That was good–it had been hard to focus on what was important–cleaning Master’s dirty paws.

Geoff bent down, watching the little pup squirm under his weight, and while he hadn’t thought about shrinking him further than this, a couple of feet tall…he couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like. This was the smallest he’d ever made a pup, really, but there was no reason the collar couldn’t shrink someone smaller…and in fact, there was something he had always wanted to try, and this might be the best opportunity to test it out. He grabbed hold of the collar, and kept pulling, steadily shrinking Demon further still, taking inches off his now measly height, until he was just around a foot and a half tall, not too much larger than the badger’s paw, in all honesty. He felt so fragile, under him, and Geoff supposed he could crush the life out of him, if he so wanted, but he had other pleasures in mind for this one. He pulled his paw away, pleased with the empty look in the pup’s eyes. He was in the final stages of his changes now–his old self was locked away, deep in his mind, where it would starve, slowly. The process took a while, but now, there was no real way of saving him–as far as Geoff was concerned, Chance was gone–all that remained, was Demon, his warped, perverted little pet.

Geoff looked around, and saw that Dingo had wandered off in the midst of this–a peek around the corner, and he was the massive lug right where he expected him to be, looming over the table, and the unfinished box of doughnuts, stuffing them in his maw as quickly as he could. The bigger they got, after all, the hungrier they became, and Dingo was one of the largest he had made–so tall, Dingo had probably knocked his head on the doorframe getting out of the hall. “Dingo!” he said, “Pick up Demon here, and let’s go upstairs–I think I have the perfect punishment in mind for the naughty pup.”

Dingo looked up, knowing he had been caught red handed, or powder sugar handed, perhaps, but his master didn’t seem mad at him for it. Still, he rushed to obey him, while the badger started pulling off his uniform and heading for the stairs, Dingo grabbed Demon by the tail and picked him up. He was…so light, and the pup squirmed in the air, obviously unhappy at being manhandled like this, and Dingo just laughed, and swung him about gently in the air.

“Dingo! Quit playing with your toy, and get up here!”

“Sorry sir!” Dingo said, and hurried for the stairs, clipping his forehead on a doorway as he went, dropping Demon as he did. The pup tried to scurry away, but Dingo grabbed him by the tail again before he could get away, and carrying him upstairs after the badger, and into the bedroom, where Geoff was standing next to the bed. “Get out of that uniform, Dingo–I think it’s time you got a reward.”

Dingo grinned, and set Demon down on the floor. Before he could get his bearings, he found himself pinned under the badger’s paw once again, and all thoughts of escape slipped away from him again, and he focused on sniffing and licking his master’s paws while the larger Dingo struggled to extract himself from the too tight uniform he was now wearing. He managed, eventually, but not without losing a few buttons, and then Geoff directed him to lay down on the bed. He was so large, that even with his head leaning up against the headboard, his paws hung off the end, and his cock, while small compared to his frame, was still a sizable seven inches.

“Alright, Demon–are you ready? You’re going to get one last fuck on your husband’s cock–and we’re going to shrink you until you’re too small to even stay on it. Hear that? You’re going to be so small, you won’t even be useful for sex–all you’ll be able to do is clean our paws, lick out our cracks, and watch me fuck your husband’s ass into submission every night. That’s what happens to naughty pups who don’t do what they’re told–I turn them into my toys.”

Demon was squirming under Geoff’s paw, but whether he was even paying attention to him, the badger didn’t know. That was the problem with these collars, especially when you make someone small–the room left for their brains gets a bit…cramped. He bent down and picked him up, carrying him under the arms and onto the bed, before handing him to Dingo. “Here you go boy–why don’t you give Demon a good last fuck? I want it to be a fuck he’ll remember, so don’t hold back, got it?”

Dingo nodded, took Demon from Geoff’s paws, and held him there, looking at him squirm, trying to free himself, lost somewhere between fear, obedience, and a disappearing past and identity he could no longer really recall. It was…easier, seeing him like this, Dingo thought. It had been harder before, when he was human, when Angus had been so loud, trying to make him stop, trying to get control back, but now that he was looking at this little pup–a pint sized german shepherd, panting, his own cock hard as he squirmed in the air, not quite sure what was about to happen to him, he just felt…sorry for him, a bit, and he didn’t want to hurt him. “Aren’t I…too big?”

“Don’t worry about that, Dingo–he’ll be flexible. Besides, you shouldn’t care about something like that–you like being a brute, don’t you? You kind of like the idea of hurting that pup a bit. After all, hasn’t he been so naughty today?”

Dingo nodded, and he realized that some of that caring, that worry, wasn’t really his–it had leeched in while he wasn’t paying attention, but Master was right. He was a mean, rough, feral mutt, to everyone other than his master, and thinking about fucking this little pup on his big cock…he started leaking just thinking about it, leaking enough that he could drop the pup on the head of his cock, and it was slick enough to work its way inside, the pup barking and howling in surprise and a bit of pain as the massive cock forced its way inside him.

It was as large as his own arm, easily, and the pup was torn between terror, and a raging horniness that was threatening to wipe away everything else. His head just felt so small and tight all of a sudden, and it couldn’t hold everything in it that had been in it before. Whatever was most present, and most immediate, was being saved–everything else, if he didn’t focus on it, was slipping away, never to be seen again. Dingo shoved him down a little further, forcing the pup’s tailhole to open further, and Geoff bent over and whispered in Demon’s ear, telling how good it felt to be fucked, how much he loved having a massive cock in his hole–he was so naughty, he wanted cock in him all the time, and that’s why he was being punished. He’d been a bad dog, and so, he was going to have to be so small, he’d never be able to get fucked again.

Dingo kept thrusting up, working most of his cock into the pup’s tight hole, and then Geoff took hold of the end of Demon’s collar, and pulled it tighter. His body constricted again, tightening around Dingo’s cock, stretching his hole even more, and he howled, Dingo having to keep a tight hold, to keep his cock from slipping from the pup’s hole. For his part, a desperate Demon was trying hard to keep the cock in his guts–he loved getting fucked, and knowing that this was going to be his last fuck ever…he was going to have to make it last as long as possible, no matter how small he got.

Geoff watched the little german shepherd constrict around the dingo’s cock, and his own cock got even harder. He got up and straddled Dingo’s massive frame, so his own cock was in front of Demon, took hold of his tiny frame, and started fucking him up and down on Dingo’s cock, watching the little pup go slack, just enjoying the sensation of the massive cock rearranging his guts, his face and gut grinding against his master’s cock in the process, absolutely helpless, and yet, more content than he’d ever felt in his life, because there was nothing he could do. He was helpless–they could do whatever they wanted to him, and there was nothing he could do to stop them, they had absolute power, and that meant he had to be their…their slave, or even lower than that, their pet, their toy. He was nothing, and with another tug on the collar, he shrank again, less than a foot tall, his body no longer able to take all of Dingo’s cock–but the massive dog had reached his limit anyway. His cock exploded inside of Demon’s body, and like a bottle rocket, and because Geoff was only holding onto him by the collar–as he flew, it pulled tighter and tighter around his neck, tighter than Geoff had ever intended, shrinking him less than a foot, less than six inches, until he was just three or four, dangling by the end of the collar, choking until Geoff laid the tiny pup on the bed, where he could catch his breath in the pool of cum still leaking out of his hole.

Dingo just kept panting on the bed, oblivious to what had happened, while Geoff loomed over him, surprised that the little pup was still alive. He picked Demon up by the tail and looked at him, Demon staring at the massive badger’s face looming right in front of him. “Hmm…well, that’s a bit smaller than I was expecting.”

Still, there was nothing to be done–but at least he could secure the collar and lock it in place. If it shrank anymore, Demon might just cease to exist. It took some work, manipulating the little tail of the shrunk collar soit slid into the loop, but he managed it, and sealed the length for good–for better or worse, Demon was a pup the size of a mouse…now what in the hell was he going to do with him? Geoff sighed–he’d figure something out, he supposed. He dropped Demon back on the bed, and told Dingo to get up from the bed–that it was time to leave. The two of them got dressed, Dingo struggling with his ill-fitting uniform again, but with Geoff’s help, he got situated enough that he was presentable, and then Geoff dropped the still stunned Demon in the pocket of his shirt, and they left the house, never to return.

No one ever really figured out what happened to the nice couple, Angus and Chance, who had lived there. Some people said there was a kidnapping, others said they had moved, some suggested a long vacation, but no one remembered them for long. The bank eventually foreclosed on the house, and resold it to someone else–but by then, their memory had long since disappeared from reality, for everyone besides Geoff. Geoff remembered everything, and he was having a grand time with his Dingo.

In the past months, nearly a year, Dingo had kept packing on weight at a steady clip. On his tall frame though, even four hundred pounds seemed normal–mostly. Geoff kept feeding him though–he wanted his brutish mutt to be his largest pup yet, telling him, while he fucked his fat ass, that he was going to keep stuffing him until he was too fat to even get out of bed. Dingo liked that, and he gave another shudder, shooting another load of cum into the milker attached to his cock, draining his cum into a small tank by the side of the bed. After a few more minutes, Geoff came deep, and pulled out–the two of them laid on the bed for a while, Geoff resting his head on Dingo’s large gut until he got tired, swung himself out of bed, and unhooked the tank. He had another pet to keep fed after all–and after that massive fucking had twisted up the little pup’s guts, the only thing the tiny pup could eat anymore was cum–specifically Dingo’s. He loved the stuff, and the more he drank, the fatter he got as well–though he always seemed to shrink back down from a sphere after a day or two. Still, watching the little german shepherd gorge himself on his one-time husband’s cum never ceased to thrill Geoff, and watching the little pup fight for it was getting hard again–hard enough for a second go at Dingo’s hole in the meantime, before their night shift started. They were patrolling the highway, and Geoff had started hankering for another police dog to play with in the worst way.

Holiday Curses – Thanksgiving (Part 5)

After Luke left, the only men who remained in the house, or at least who remained normal in the house, since John was still enjoying his vices in the bedroom, and Issac was stuffing himself in the kitchen, were Mark’s father–Michael–and his uncle–Gabe. Mark stood in front of them on the couch, with the game on the TV behind him, and grinned at them both. Neither of them knew what to make of what was going on, and Mark didn’t really want to take the time to explain it. After all, once the spell took hold, and their fates were rewritten, neither of them would even remember any of their sons–they wouldn’t even be here.

The paradox of Mark’s existence would be smoothed over by reality well enough–his father would simply be dead in the past, literally, and replaced by the new version of his father somewhere else in the world. But where that place would be, well, that’s what he was going to have to figure out.

The spell would allow him to change these men’s fates, but it could only do so much, just…shove things in a different direction, when the opportunity arose in the past. It was up to Mark to use his energy to direct it…but this was by far the most risky spell that he was going to attempt, and that was why he was going to use it last. Temporal energy wasn’t something to toy with, and even his boyfriend had cautioned him against trying this–but Mark was adamant. He knew what would likely happen, and he had accepted it. The two of them deserved it–at least by twisting their fates together, in the same spell, some of the backlash would be lessened for him.

He spent the next half hour or so preparing the spell, getting the two men ready, and finally, he started the incantation, standing behind them, one hand on each of their temples, and he felt the strange sensation of vertigo as they all fell, together, backwards into the past. He focused on his uncle first, on the timeline stretching out of his entire life, and at the bright points of chance that stood out–points were Mark would be able to change things. One in particular stood out to him–his uncle, home for the summer during college, had gotten into a bar fight and ended up getting arrested. As things had happened, his father had managed to smooth things over with the sheriff…but things hadn’t needed to happen like that at all…especially with a few tweaks to the sheriff himself.

He was an older man, stern and law abiding, but Mark used the spell to twist him and his fate as well, enhancing his mean streak, but also giving him a strong fetish for…well, corporal punishment, especially with a young, uppity man as Gabe had been in his youth. He set the new sheriff and his younger uncle on a collision course, and watched the timeline start to twist, and then break. His uncle, drunk in the prison cell, had talked back to the sheriff, who had decided to take his belt to the loud mouthed boy–and followed it up with a rough fucking in the cell. Deciding the boy needed some…additional lessons, the sheriff held him in there most of the summer, beating and abusing him, making Gabe…crave the abuse, and crave the sheriff’s cock too. His uncle had never gone back to college–no, he’d decided to clean himself up, and got himself a job as a sheriff’s deputy…though each night, in reality, he was the domineering sheriff’s personal pain pig and slave.

He couldn’t follow the line further than that, but he didn’t need too–enough damage had been done. Now, Mark turned his attention to his father Michael, and he picked his way along the timeline, testing points of fate, looking for an opportunity, but none of them seemed satisfying–that is, until he found an odd one, where his father had hitchhiked his way home for winter break, and then hitchhiked back as well, usually catching rides with truckers along the way. So Mark found a better trucker for his father to catch a ride with–a massively obese fellow, easily 400 pounds, always stuffing his face with food, and more than eager to get Michael stuffed with food, and beer, along the way. The fat fuck had gotten his father drunk, and then molested him in the cabin behind the cab–and much to Michael’s surprise, and the trucker’s, he’d liked it. He’d liked worshiping the man’s massive, flabby frame, and he relished the attention the trucker poured on him, convincing Michael to stuff himself full all over again the next day, jacking off in the cab…and when they got to the city, Michael decided to keep riding with the trucker he found himself so infatuated with–and before too long, the two of them were team trucking across the country and back, stuffing themselves silly the whole way.

It was done. Mark began the process of pulling himself out of the past, climbing back up to the present, and as he did, he could feel the energy building up around him, infusing him, and when he finally opened his eyes in the living room, the couch in front of him empty, he was not the same man he’d been when he’d begun the incantation. He’d aged close to fifteen years, nearly forty years old, with quite a few wrinkles and some grey hair appearing in his now receding hairline…but he’d done it. He’d gotten his revenge…and yet, he still didn’t quite feel satisfied by it. In any case, he needed to leave–his boyfriend was waiting for him to get back, though Mark was sure he would be…angry when he saw Mark, and figured out what he’d done. Still, it had been worth it–it all had…but then why did it not feel like it was quite enough? Why did it feel like he could do so much more to all of them?

This is the end of the story for the moment! We will pick up the story again in a bit.

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 8)

“What do you want, pup?”

What…did he want? He knew what he had wanted, before. To…escape, to find a way to get Angus back, but he was so tired, so tired of fighting. It would be so much easier if he just gave in, gave in and was a good boy, a good pup, the…the dirty little pup Master wanted him to be. But is that what he wanted too? He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know if he should even…want things himself. What did Master want? He knew what Master wanted, though, and…and he could feel himself wanting it too, more and more. “I…I wanna sniff your holes, and Dingo’s, and lick your boots and your paws, sir, I…I wanna be your…your dirty pup.”

“Really? Because a little while ago, you didn’t seem to want that at all. I don’t know if I really believe you, pup.”

That…seemed so long ago now, somehow, even though Chance knew it had been less than an hour. It was another lifetime, another person altogether, maybe. “I know I said that, but I…I was wrong, I want to be a good boy, I want to be your dirty pup master.”

“My dirty, little pup, you mean,” Geoff said, took the end of Chance’s collar and tightened it another notch, and Chance felt his stomach twist, he shrank again. He tried to pull away again, but Geoff kept his grip on the collar, and he could feel it tightening again, and almost to another notch, and he froze.

“Please, I don’t want to be smaller, please sir, I’m sorry…”

“No? You don’t want to be a little pup? So small I could pin you to the ground with my paw, feel you squirming between my toes?” Geoff tugged lightly, and another notch slipped, and Chance reduced again, now only about four feet tall, and he could feel the badger tugging the collar tightening, and he whimpered again. “Get on your knees.”

Chance hadn’t realized he was standing, and when he got down, the disparity in size was even more apparent, and he realized, also…very hot, seeing his Master looming over him like this. Geoff put one huge boot on his thigh, and that was enough to make his dog cock slip free of his sheath again, and start to leak.

“Looks like someone is excited by the idea of being this small. Such a naughty little doggy. You know, a naughty pup like you needs a naughty name, don’t you think? How about…Demon? A little devil like you.”

When Geoff said the name, Chance felt it searing itself into his mind, somehow, warping his own image of himself. The human in him slipped even further away, fading, and he could…see himself, a different version of himself. A small, chubby dog, tongue lolling out, only a couple feet tall, waddling after his Master, wondering when he’d get the chance to taste his paws again, or his boots, or his cock, if he was a very good boy. And Demon…Demon could be naughty yes, but he wanted to be good, so good, and he knew he could, he could be so good if he just…just did as Master wanted. The collar tightened again, slipping closed another notch, and he shrank a few more inches, watching his Master rise up over him even further as he shrank down, and…and he let out a whine, his cock springing up and leaking a bit at the sight.

“You do like it, don’t you boy? I want to hear you say it.”

Demon shook his head, trying to deny it, but the badger tightened it again, the sudden vertigo in his gut telling him he was shrinking even further.

“I know you like it, pup,” Geoff said, “but what really matters anyway is that I like it. I like the idea of you being a sniveling little pup, too small to be good for anything really, small enough that I could crush you under me feet–but I think that you do want it, don’t you boy? Doesn’t the idea of being small enough that I can pick you up by the scruff of your fat neck, or by your fuzzy tail, carry you around, do whatever I want to you–doesn’t that just excite the hell out of you?”

Demon heard something thumping behind him, but it wasn’t until Geoff stopped talking that he realized it was the sound of his tail wagging, and thumping against the floor behind him.

“Naughty pups like you might lie to me, but your tails always tell the truth, pup. You want to be small. You deserve to be small, for being so naughty, you deserve to be punished, don’t you?”

He tugged again, slipping the collar down another notch, and this time, Demon couldn’t resist it anymore. “Yes sir, I do…I deserve to be a tiny pup sir, I love it, I…”

“Unlace my boots, Demon,” Geoff said, sneering down at him.

He did so, and pulled the boot off, and the sock. He could smell the badger’s paw from where he was, and he felt drool pouring out of his snout, his cock even harder, if that was possible.

“You want Master’s paw, boy?”

“Yes sir, please let me lick your dirty paws.”

“What’s your name pup? Tell me your name, and I’ll let you taste them.”

He whined again. He knew the right answer of course, but it was also the most dangerous answer. It wasn’t the answer it should be…but it was the answer he wanted, all the same. “Demon. I’m your dirty little pup, Demon, your naughty pup, please sir! Please can I taste them?”

“Alright, go ahead pup, you’ve been good enough.”