Where Boys Become Men (Part 4)

Jackson had given him some details of what to expect, and to sum it up in two words, it was relative anarchy. Guards were always on patrol, but they only intervened in extreme cases, generally only when someone’s life was at stake. Other than that, provisional candidates were free to do whatever they liked, and to associate with whomever they wanted in the block. That said, there were certain incentives in place. While each provisional candidate was provided with a guaranteed level of hormones and food–anything else, including tobacco or alcohol products, would have to be purchased. Credits could be obtained by completing jobs and chores, or traded from other candidates if they could be persuaded to do so. What that meant, in the end, was that the young men in there would often do anything to get the credits they needed to thrive. Jackson told him, with that same odd smirk, that the most important thing he could have there, was power and strength. “They want to see if you have what it takes to be a man,” he said, “because that’s what they want to see. It takes real strength of character though, if you want to be classified a level five candidate like me–and I don’t think you have it.”

Tanner took offense at that–and from the smirk on Jackson’s face, he wondered if that was exactly why he’d said it to him. Still, nothing Jackson described would have really prepared him for that first day in the provisional block–P Block, as the guards called it. Now, he really was in a prison. The guards led him through the block on his first day, and the young men in there all gave him the same look as he passed–some odd combination of suspicion and desire that made him incredibly uncomfortable. Thankfully, candidates were given their own personal cells–small, but private with doors that could lock, though any guard could open them if they needed to. He was also given his introductory allowance of credits, and the screen on his band turned on for the first time, allowing him to look through the virtual store.

In addition to any number of personal items, he could purchase a variety of tobacco products (he immediately ordered a few cigars–which to his annoyance cost him half the allowance right there) as well as magazines (all of them erotic and all of them covered with faggots) extra food rations he could collect at mess, and even beer. But it was the hormones and supplements that interested him. He couldn’t purchase drugs individually–instead, the store offered packages which promised certain benefits. He discovered that pretty much all of them guaranteed some level of body hair growth, and he turned the band off, disgusted with himself and his body, and laid down on the bed for a few minutes, before deciding he should go get something to eat–only to be jumped by a gang of boys who’d been waiting for the newbie to emerge from his room. They beat him to the floor in a moment, and told him they wouldn’t drag him back to their place for a gangbang if he dropped his entire allowance in their accounts. He didn’t have his full allowance, of course, but the young men settled for the rest of his credits and blowjobs in the hallway instead. Thankfully, he thought as he struggled up, he’d thought to buy cigars ahead of time–and then kicked himself for being thankful for something as dumb as that.

Things got worse before they got better for Tanner. Jobs were first come first serve each day, and he’d never been that motivated to do anything other than swim, and certainly not to do anything as boring and dull as work in the kitchen or do laundry. Still, once that initial supply of cigars ran out and he tried to quit cold turkey, he realized just how dependent Jackson had made him to tobacco–and he found himself in the horrifying position of trading sexual favors with his fellow candidates for enough credits to support his habit, but his sense of self-importance wouldn’t allow him to sink to that level for too long. After about a month, he fell into the orbit of the small gang who’d assaulted him the first day he’d arrived, and remained there.

He told himself he wouldn’t hang with them for long, that he’d get the credits some other way once he was able to survive on his own. He just…needed to smoke, and a few of the guys in the gang would fuck him in exchange for enough credits to keep his addiction fueled. However, it wasn’t too long before he discovered the gang wasn’t exactly being run by the brightest young men in the world–if anything, he seemed to be a bit of an anomaly in the facility. Most of the men here were diverted from prison sentences to fuel this experimental brand of reform, and so most didn’t even have a high school diploma. He was smarter than them, and he could use them. He figured out who the alpha was and hooked himself to him, flattering him, fucking him, anything he could do, and when he had him, well, suddenly he wasn’t aching for credits like he had been, and things got easier. He could smoke when he wanted to. He could afford more expensive hormone schedules, allowing him to bulk up substantially and hold his own in the hallways of the block. Before too long, he was joining the gang on raids, and under his direction, the group was pulling in more credits than they’d ever had before.

The longer he stayed there, the better picture he got of the small, strange, twisted society that was fostered in the block. The majority of candidates did their best to abide the rules–they did tasks and jobs, they got paid, they tried to survive. Then, there were the gangs like Tanner had found himself tangled within. They would work on occasion, but the bulk of their credits they got from their fellow candidates however they could–and Tanner expanded their racket considerably. Half the gang would provide protection of workers while the other half would then attack the protected group, simply to demonstrate the importance of the first group so they could raise their rates. Tanner rarely felt bad about this–after all, this was the world, right? If the facility wanted to prevent this, all they’d have to do is allow the guards to step in and stop them. In his mind, there was little distinction between what Jackson had done to him for the last month, and what he was doing down here–in fact, he imagined that Jackson must have done something similar to end up where he was–after all, what could be more important than entrepreneurial spirit? The men in the gang who’d been there longer were one by one pulled away by guards to go to their assignment hearings, and Tanner recruited men he’d identified with promise to help him cement his power in the block.

Where Boys Become Men (Part 3)

His time as an initiate lasted eight weeks, and while Tanner hated every moment of it, whenever he looked back later–as best he could look back on anything, really–he realized he’d taken his time with Jackson for granted. At the time it had seemed like his ‘counselor’, as Jackson had forced Tanner to address him, was mostly interested in punishing and humiliating Tanner at every possible opportunity. Indeed, for the first week in particular, Tanner lost count of how many different people Jackson offered him to as a cumdump. Guards, friends of Jackson’s, other initiates–seemingly anyone could use any of his holes, whenever Jackson felt like it. On occasion, Jackson would turn him into a ragdoll like his first day, but generally, he would simply give the order. Tanner tried to resist the first few times, but the band had multiple ways of ensuring his compliance: electric shocks, drugs which made him immediately nauseous, and other drugs that flooded him with pleasure as soon as he obeyed. At some point, he decided that it was just…easier to go with it. He didn’t have to like it, and as soon as he could contact anyone on the outside, he’d make sure this place was shut down immediately and permanently.

It was a week before he realized something else–he was changing, somehow. It was gradual enough that from day to day he didn’t quite notice anything in particular. Sometimes it was physical–soreness in his muscles, or some extra hair on his chest–but also odd mental shifts like mood swings, a general irritability (which wasn’t surprising given his situation) and a raging horniness that never seemed to ebb away no matter how many times he came. Jackson enjoyed that part, it seemed, and often, when they weren’t doing much, he would make Tanner masturbate for fun, either alone or in front of other people. Still, enough little things added up over time that led him to realize something bigger had to be at work.

He confronted Jackson about it, and his counselor told him that he had, in consultation with Tanner’s doctors, selected his initial hormone regimen for him, and that he’d best get used to it; all of the men at Halverson took various hormone supplements, even him. One of the main goals of the initiate program, in fact, was to give newcomers a chance to adjust to this, grow a bit, so they’d have a better time managing as a provisional candidate. Tanner wanted to know what sorts of hormones he was being given and he raised a stink about consent–which got a laugh out of Jackson–but his counselor wouldn’t tell him much more beyond that. Now that he was aware of the changes, however, he became a bit paranoid, looking for signs of what Jackson had been talking about. In particular was his use of the word grow that worried him. Tanner was tall and strong, but as a swimmer he’d become hyper focused on maintaining a sleek, trim form, and as the days passed, it became more and more obvious that he was beginning to lose that shape he’d come to treasure above most everything else.

It was in the third week, when he was in the thick of his initial hormone treatments, that the anger broke through the wall he’d tried to build around it. They were in the room, and Jackson was smoking a cigar, like he always was, really. He was reading some manual or other, while Tanner cleaned up the room for him. He hated smokers. He always had–it had always been an indicator of moral weakness that someone would allow themselves to be addicted to something so harmful. The room had almost no ventilation, aside from the door, which Jackson wanted closed, trapping all of the smoke in with them…and whether it was the hormones that made him explode, or just his general misery, he screamed and shouted at Jackson, furious at his smoking, at his treatment here, and the anger overwhelmed him. He lunged, and collapsed to the ground like a brick, as Jackson sent a tranq through his system in a heartbeat, and fucked him for good measure.

The next day, he was more irritable than usual. By the afternoon, he realized he was craving…something, but he had no clue what. They were back in the room when Jackson offered him a cigar, and he refused–only the craving doubled in strength. His head ached, his muscles too–he was miserable. Jackson again offered a cigar, that smirk on his face…Tanner realized what he’d done, and he still refused–so Jackson started feeding him smoke, mouth to mouth, until Tanner finally broke down and accepted the fact that his counselor had just made him hopelessly addicted to nicotine in less than a day. Later, fucking him while Tanner smoked his second cigar Jackson told him, “Be careful who you piss off here–there are worse things I could do to you then make you into a damn sexy cigar smoker.”

After six weeks, Tanner barely recognized himself in the mirror. He’d gained close to 75 pounds in a little over a month, bringing his weight up to 260 pounds. He hadn’t gained much height, leaving him with a physique closer to that of a husky football player than a swimmer, with not only a large amount of muscle, but also fat, giving him a definite gut. Adding insult to injury, Jackson had made sure to fill in his previously hairless body–now, if ever wanted to swim again, he would have to shave his entire body every single day, from neck to shin. Running his hands over his body, it didn’t feel like his. There were small changes too–he reeked for one thing. Whether it was Jackson’s request, or simply a general side effect of this new body, his B.O. was out of control now, and Jackson refused to give him deodorant, or let him shower more than every few days. In fact, the guy seemed to enjoy it, eating out Tanner’s pits and crack before fucking him. Other changes were more welcome–like his cock and balls. He was nowhere near the size of Jackson, but his modest four inch cock had beefed up to a generous six, and his balls were more than twice the size, and he’d become a rather copious leaker.

Life had gotten easier, as well, as he’d adjusted to life in the facility. On days when he’d done exceptionally well, Jackson had begun letting Tanner fuck him, or someone else–including a few initiates, which he found he rather enjoyed. Jackson actually seemed to rather enjoy getting fucked, though he let Tanner know he was hardly the best fuck he’d gotten in the facility. Still, if even an amateur performance could get Jackson to growl like that–Tanner wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know what he’d do during good sex. He hadn’t thought of women in days, he realized. At some point, he’d simply…gone gay. He found himself checking out men around the mess hall and in the hallway, thinking about their cocks, fantasizing about them, his dreams full of men and generally wet. And then, just as he was beginning to realize how good he had it, Jackson told him he’d been approved for transfer to the provisional block, where he’d likely be spending the next year of his life, at least.

Where Boys Become Men (Part 2)

They climbed to an upper level of the facility, and down a few hallways that looked like the interior of a college dorm more than anything else. They came to a door marked “Jackson / Initiate (Tanner Wilkins)” and went inside. It was a small dorm, basically, but with one full size bed on one wall and a cot on the other. They also had a small bathroom with a toilet, sink and shower. “This is…nice.”

“Don’t get too comfy, you aren’t going to be here for long,” Jackson said, and shut the door behind them. “Now, the band. It can do a lot of things, but most important is that the band is how your hormones will be distributed. That said, because you’re my initiate, I have pretty much complete control over your band. For example, if I do this–” Jackson turned the screen of his band on, pressed a button, and Tanner felt a prick on the inside of his wrist. “We can have some real fun right away.”

Tanner wanted to ask what that meant, but the words came out as a muddle, his vision blurring, and he collapsed to the floor in a heap. He was still perfectly aware of what was going on around him, but couldn’t move a muscle–everything was limp.

“Your file says that you raped her while she was drunk–but this seems much more efficient, and I know you’ll remember everything. How do you feel, comfortable? This is usually designed to subdue troublesome candidates, but can be used for other activities as well. It usually wears off in an hour or so, which is plenty of time.”

Jackson stripped off his clothes as he spoke–all of them–revealing a body coated with hair from neck to the tops of his feet, with a massive, nine inch cock half hard hanging above two massive bull balls. Then, he got down and started hauling off Tanner’s clothes, and all he could do to protest was get out a meek mumble.

“I believe you said, when the police interviewed you, that she never said no–right? Well you can’t say no either, so I guess that means, I can do whatever I want,” Jackson said, running his calloused hands over Tanner’s smooth body, finding his ass, spreading his cheeks and pressing his hand against the hole, which loosened immediately as he pushed. “I think you also said something about how she sounded like she enjoyed it–how about that? Would you like to enjoy this? Maybe later, I think, but the band can do that too.”

Jackson climbed on top of him, Tanner desperately trying to get his body to respond to his rising terror, but nothing happened aside from a few twitches, Jackson pressing his massive cock to Tanner’s hole and sliding inside. It hurt. It hurt, but he couldn’t do anything. He realized he was crying silently as his counselor raped him roughly, both hands clutching his hips, hauling his limp body backwards onto his cock. He didn’t know how long this lasted, but no one came to pull Jackson off like those men had pulled him off and called the police. Is this really what it had felt like? No–no, he hadn’t done this–this was horrible, but he wasn’t horrible like this!

“Now…How about…we make you like it, eh?” Jackson said, ramming his cock home each time, and then adjusted his watch. Another prick, and a new sensation flooded him–pleasure. Simple, basic, pleasure. His cock grew hard and started to leak as Jackson continued fucking him, and now–now it felt amazing, but now he only felt worse! He felt betrayed by his body, as he found himself eager for each thrust, trying to push back but still unable to move a single muscle. “You’ll be happy to know that this lovely substance doesn’t just made things feel good–it makes things always feel good. After I give you a few more shots of that stuff, getting fucked will always feel this good for you. How does that sound?”

That couldn’t be possible, could it? No, he had to be joking. Jackson kept fucking, and soon enough, Tanner wasn’t able to hold back, and he came across the carpet beneath him with an involuntary shudder.

“That’s what I was waiting for–welcome to the club, Tanner–this is what Halverson is all about!” Jackson picked up his pace, cumming a few moments later, deep in the young man’s hole, and then pulled out and got up, finishing his cigar and snuffing it out in an ashtray on the table. “Now–why don’t you just go ahead and hang out in here–I’ll be back in a few minutes with some food for us both–after all, we can’t have you growing on an empty stomach, right?”

Jackson got dressed, opened the door, and left–but from the sound, Tanner could tell the door was still open, where literally everyone could see him as they walked down the hall. Why would he do that? He was both terrified that someone would see him like this, frozen in place with cum dribbling from his ass, or hopeful a guard would find him and help him get to safety. In the end, it was two guards who came along, chatting, and stopped at the doorway.

“Well damn, Jackson didn’t waste any time.”

“He never does–but ain’t that the kid? That rapist everyone was freaking out about online a few months ago?”

“Shit, it is, isn’t it? You want a turn?”

“Nah, but you go ahead if you want.”

Tanner screamed inside his head as heard the guard unzip his fly, and for the second time in his life, and for the second time that hour, a relative stranger fucked his ass, and Tanner wondered what, exactly, he had volunteered for…and realized he’d been tricked by that damn prosecutor. This wasn’t a deal at all! This–well, he still didn’t have much of an idea of what this was, but it was clearly a nightmare. But now, the only way out for him was through.

Where Boys Become Men (Part 1)

She’d been drunk. She should have been more careful. Tanner had been drinking too, and everyone knew guys can’t be trusted when they’re drunk. If she hadn’t wanted to have sex, why had she been there in the first place? Everyone knew that if you’re a girl and you show up at a frat party, someone is going to fuck you, especially if you get drunk and tease every guy in the room. He shouldn’t be held responsible for something he could barely remember doing himself…but it hadn’t been looking good for him, once news of the…incident had been leaked to the media. It seemed like everyone in the world had a pitchfork pointed at him, and when the prosecutor had offered him a plea bargain–the opportunity to participate in a reform program rather than serve a prison sentence…he’d taken it. Not because he’d done anything wrong, but because he knew he, as a man, would never get a fair trial, not with the political correctness brigades hounding the court for “justice”. The facility was private, and still very much a secret from the wider world–he hadn’t even been able to tell his parents where he was going, because he didn’t know himself. And now here he was, in some sterile room, stripped of his clothes, having just received a cursory medical examination–waiting.

The building had been massive, when he’d approached it with his lawyer, to turn himself in. Fortress like walls, several layers of tight security, every man at each checkpoint was just…huge. Tanner wasn’t a big guy, but as a championship swimmer he was in great shape–just small compared to the hulks surrounding him at every turn. The paperwork he’d signed had identified the place as simply the Halverson Men’s Reform and Punishment Center, which told him next to nothing, other than that it sounded like a prison. Still, “reform” or whatever generally took one year–much better than the fifteen year mandatory minimum he was looking at had he gone to trial. Even if it was a prison, he could hold out for that long at least.

The door opened. The doctor who had examined him came in, followed by a hulking man, easily as large as the men guarding the facility. He was dressed in a crisp, simply decorated uniform smoking a cigar, but the smell of him when he walked in didn’t seem to match the proper dress: smoke, sweat and a hint of rust. “Alright Tanner. I’d like to introduce you to Counselor Jackson, a level five reform subject here at Halverson. He, like you, is a subject here, but like all of our counselors, he is well on his way towards successful reform, isn’t that right, Jackson?”

“Hell yeah Doc!” the man said, grinning around his cigar, “One hundred percent man here, just like you could be, if you put your mind to it,” He crossed his thick arms, and stared down at Tanner.

Tanner was appalled, but said nothing. “Is he allowed to smoke in here?”

“Smoking is allowed throughout the facility, yes,” the doctor said, and made a note on a clipboard, “Now, Jackson here will be your mentor while you remain an initiate. He will take full responsibility of helping you adjust to the unique reform environment we foster here. Once we have determined you are prepared, you will transition into the broader subject population as a provisional subject. Generally, this initial mentoring period lasts around four to six weeks, depending on your physical and mental response. Each candidate spends a required year within the provisional population, or sometimes longer, if the assignment committee feels more observation is required to make a decision on a candidate’s appropriate reform level–”

“I don’t understand any of this,” Tanner said, interrupting him.

“Oh,” the doctor said, making a scribble on the clipboard, “Our counseling and reform structure was well detailed in the admissions packet you received. Did you read it?”

He’d been afraid to look at it, so he hadn’t. “Look, how long am I going to be here, exactly? How long has he been here?” he asked, looking at Jackson.

The doctor looked to the hulking man, who took a deep inhale off his cigar as he thought. “I suppose…four years now? But the release committee is meeting in two months to discuss my case, so I don’t think I’ll be in here too much longer–unlike you,” he indicated Tanner with a grin. “And some guys have been in here for, what, a decade? Especially at the lower levels?”

“Yeah, but I’d still say six or seven is a good estimate,” the doctor added.

“Six or seven years? No fucking way! This was supposed to be better than prison.”

Jackson guffawed at that line, and even the doctor smirked.

“Screw this, I’ll take my chance in court.”

“I’m afraid that once committed, no candidate has the ability to refuse reform. You are, one might say, stuck,” the doctor scribbled a bit more, and then set the clipboard down. “That’s enough for my initial observations, Jackson–you have Tanner’s file, of course. I’ll leave the explaining to you. All that leaves, then, is your band.”

Before Tanner could ask what he meant, the doctor slipped a metallic band, almost like a smartwatch with a blank screen around one wrist, and it cinched up tight to his skin–too tight to slip off, he discovered when he tried to tug it off. “What the hell is this thing?”

“Ask your counselor; I have another initiate to process.”

Tanner looked to the hulking mass of muscle, but he didn’t say anything, just waved him to follow him out. Two guards escorted them to a security checkpoint, they passed through into what Tanner saw was A Block. As they walked, Tanner was struck by the fact that there didn’t seem to be any cells around, nor many guards at all. If anything, the candidates had the run of the place…and everything was calm. The place did seem to get results, it seemed.

“This is A Block–if you’re good, you’ll end up here,” Jackson said, “As for your band, we all have one, see?” he held up his own wrist where a similar metal band hung. “As for what it does–well, it’ll be easier to show you than anything else. Come on, I’ll show you my room, where you’ll be staying for the next few weeks.”

Buried Treasure (Part 3)

We got to the farm after driving for most of the day. It wasn’t the first time we’d been there by any means, but none of us had been there in quite a few years at this point. As we drove past along the road, I saw that the fields, which were usually neat and tidy, looked a bit weedy and overgrown, like no one had been paying them much mind for the last few weeks, or even longer. We turned down the road leading to the old farmhouse where Bill and Cody lived, and it looked like someone had spent a lot of time digging–there were holes and trenches everywhere in the fields, and they grew more numerous the closer we got to the house, where it looked like bombs had been dropped all over the yard. We all got out of the car together, and we could see someone digging dirt out of a hole–except it didn’t look like a person, from what I could see. Before we could get a better look, though, the front door of the house burst open and Cory ran out and headed straight for Mike, who looked to be torn between the terror I knew gripped him and his compulsion to love our cousin all the same. They embraced for a few minutes, kissing and grinding against one another, and then pulled apart. The ring was still on his finger–but now, there was a second one as well.

“Hey dad! Why don’t you get out of there and come say hello to your brother and nephews,” he shouted towards the person digging, and they stopped, shoved the shovel in the ground, and…and what came climbing out of the hole there only bore a passing resemblance to the Uncle Bill I remembered. No–this wasn’t a person, it was a fucking minotaur–eight feet tall standing upright, his entire body packed with muscle and covered with a rough hide and fur, looking at us with eyes that…I didn’t know what Cory had done to him. I didn’t understand how any of this was possible.

“I found another one Mike, just like I told you! I can fucking…see them, when I sleep. They’re in the ground here, and when I get them all, no one’s going to be able to stop me, Mike,” Cory said, and then kissed my brother for a moment, before pulling away. “Go inside–have a drink, and then get on the bed. You want me to fuck you, right? You always want my cock inside you. So go get ready, and I’ll be in right after I…show your dad and asshole brother their new assignments.”

“Cory–Cory, please…this isn’t…you,” Mike managed to say, but Cory just slapped him across the face.

“Shut up! Never speak to me like that again, you fucking know better. Now go get ready.”

Mike went inside quickly, nursing his cheek, and then Cory came over to me and my dad, Uncle Bill standing off a few paces away, unable to look us in the eye.

“My dad is a good digger–better now, after I found this one,” Cory said, pointing to the new ring I’d noticed, “But he needs help. You’re both going to be helping him out. Still–if you’re going to be little more than beasts of burden, you both might as well look the part, right?” The ring glowed, and the light shining from it enveloped us both. It…hurt. It hurt in ways I can’t even begin to describe, right down to my very core, like…like some key part of me was being ripped apart and put back together again in strange new ways. I blacked out at some point, and I awoke on the ground with a snort, Cory looming over me, grinning. “Yeah, who’s the fucking pig now, Darren?”

Looking down at myself, it was pretty clear that I was going to be the pig–boar really. He told me later that he’d rather have made me a nice soft hog, but he’d have to save that until after we’d finished working, until after…he was complete–whatever that means. My hands are human enough to handle a shovel, and…and the mud and dirt actually feel really nice on my hide, I admit it. My head’s slowed down again–even more than before–and this time it’s not because Cory is controlling me, it’s because my brain is just…dull. My dad though–fuck. He’s a fucking draft stallion now–or at least halfway to being one. Even taller than I am, though stupider, I think. He…hasn’t said a word to me or Bill since Cory changed him–I don’t know if it’s because he’s refusing to talk, or because he can’t. But for days now, all we’ve been doing, from dawn to dusk, is digging. Digging for Cory.

He’ll come out in the morning and point us to a new spot to focus on, and all three of us will attack it together. Sometimes Cory will supervise, bullwhip in hand, Mike a little ways off in the shade waiting to be used by Cory when he wants a fuck. We go hard all day, stopping only at noon for a brief lunch, and when it’s dark we stop. The three of us…we sleep in the barn. Of course, my dad and uncle…they can only sleep after a fuck, and Cory designated me as the hole…it still hurts, a lot, especially my dad’s horse cock, but even worse, I’m actually starting to…to enjoy it–their massive cocks in my ass. It’s making my piggy cock hard just thinking about it. But Mike snuck this stuff out to me, last night–a pen and paper. He can’t write–he’s too close to Cory–he’ll get caught. But me, I can still think…kind of. For the moment. Cory won’t look out here, I hope, and maybe we’ll figure out how to stop him–and whatever power is in those fucking rings of his…but he says he’s getting close to another one. He thinks we’ll find it tomorrow. God, I fucking hope not–I don’t want to know what this one will do next, but I have a feeling I’ll be finding out whether I want to or not.

It doesn’t sound like this should be the end of the story, but it is for now. I really like the direction of it, but I’m not sure where it goes! There might be a longer version someday.

Buried Treasure (Part 2)

I don’t remember much of what happened that first night. Mostly, I remember both Mike and Cory abusing me for hours. Mike…he was begging Cory to let him stop, that he was exhausted, but Cory wouldn’t let him, he would force Mike’s cock to get hard again, and force him to fuck me, or make me suck him off, or…or hit me, or whatever Cory wanted to see. Cory had his way with Mike as well, telling my brother how he’d always loved him, but that me–his stupid asshole brother–would have never let anything like their love happen, but now that I was taken care of…well, now they were going to be together, no matter what.

My only hope was that when my parents got home the next morning, there was some chance that all of this could be put right–but Cory got to them first. He’d locked me in the closet in my room, and Mike…Mike was firmly under his sway at that point. Cory…explained things to them, and from that day onward…I don’t like thinking about it, to be honest. Cory told my dad that I’d been a very, very bad boy. That I needed to be punished. Now, my dad is no slouch by any means, and he’d beat my ass quite a few times, but after that first spanking…I realized just how much he’d been pulling his punches before. Still, nothing compared to when…when he fucked me after that…my own fucking dad, shoving me down on the carpet, telling me that I deserved this, Cory watching us both while Mike sucked him off–I was an asshole, but Cory–Cory was a fucking monster.

My mom was in the kitchen, cooking–for me. These massive meals, and Cory would sit me down at the table, my dad next to me, and I would eat. I would eat like my life depended on it, because Cory had unlocked within me some…unspeakable hunger, and my dad would just watch, ridiculing me, making fun of me, warning me that if I kept this up I was going to be the fat ass around here, not Cory. The worst part, I think, was that no matter how bad things got, I…I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t cry, because I was enjoying all of it. I hated how good it felt, stuffing myself, having my dad and brother brutally fuck my hole, worshipping Cory’s body. All of it. My cock was rock hard the entire time, but I couldn’t cum–I could just leak and leak and leak, and the hornier I got, the more…I believed all of it, everything my dad and Cory and Mike were telling me. After a week…he finally gave me permission, that I could hump my father’s leg like a fucking dog, and cum that way–and I did, I fucking did cum and I licked it up afterwards, and then I thanked my dad and Cory for allowing me to humiliate myself for their pleasure.

I watched the calendar. I counted down the days. I was stupid to think anything would get better after Cory left, but things…had to, right? My parents had told the school we’d both come down with an awful flu–Cory had even gone with them to “convince” our doctor to forge a note saying so. But we couldn’t just stay here, right? Eventually Cory would have to let us go–eventually Cory would have to leave, and then…I promised myself I’d do better. I’d been wrong, I could see that now. I’d be a good person, I’d be nice to my brother. I’d be nice to everyone, if Cory would just…leave. If he’d just leave, and let everything go back to the way it was. Cory did leave, of course–but nothing went back to normal afterwards.

I…still couldn’t stop eating, no matter how hard I tried. Both Mike and my father teased me relentlessly, as my muscles began to disappear under a layer of flab. Mike kept working out, of course–he needed to keep up his physique for his boyfriend. He still raped me every night–my dad did too. I tried to tell them that they didn’t have to do this, that they could stop–but none of us could. Whatever magic Cory had inflicted on us, it wasn’t going away with him. By the time school ended, I was over 200 pounds, Mike was…well, Mike looked amazing, actually, and both our parents announced that we’d be spending the summer at our uncle’s farm out in the country. After all, we’d done a very good job helping Cory develop culture, and Uncle Bill needed some help out on the farm with a special project.

I was terrified. I begged them to resist, that they didn’t have to do this. Mike…I’ve never seen Mike like that. On the surface, he was overjoyed–desperate even, to see Cory again. But beneath that surface, he, I think, was even more terrified than I was. He didn’t sleep for days, and I’d wake up and find him rocking on his bed, just staring at the wall…and…and only a blow job could calm him down. I’d gotten very good at them, you see…and I…I liked making Mike happy. School ended, and we loaded our bags into the car and drove off with our dad, who’d decided to spend some time with his brother as well, leaving the house in our mom’s care, and we all drove off to discover what sort of fate Cory had in mind for us for the entire summer.

Buried Treasure (Part 1)

I was older, by eleven minutes. It’s hard to tell if that was why I was always the one in charge or not, but I certainly had a habit of lording it over Mike every chance I got. I got first helpings at dinner, I got to sit in the front of the car, I got the top bunk of the bed. I…It never really occurred to me that he might resent me for it. Maybe it hadn’t even crossed his mind that he should hate me for it. He was just always so easy going, you know? But I knew what I wanted to be–I wanted to play sports, and Mike came along for the ride, because as if I was going to be in control, that meant I needed to have someone to control, right? And for the longest time, that was Mike, for me.

Of course, the real reason everything went so…wrong, was Cory–our cousin. But I need to start with Mike and I, because that’s the reason everything went wrong with Cory in the first place. See, maybe I just always hated the idea that I couldn’t be alone, that Mike was always there too, shadowing me–and as much as I wanted him there, I also hated him for it, I think. So yeah, I wasn’t the nicest brother. Hell, I wasn’t the nicest guy at school, or anywhere else. I’d fuck shit up and try to pin it on Mike–I usually got caught in the end, but it was enough to remind him of what I thought of him. If he had a girlfriend and I didn’t, I tell her awful secrets about him–true or not–and get them to break up. I deserved it, I suppose is what I’m trying to say. Don’t feel too bad for me, in any case.

Cory would come to visit us in “the big city” for a few weeks each year. Our uncle wanted him to have at least a bit of exposure to culture, so when he came over, that meant our parents would cart all three of us around to museums and zoos and shit like that. Cory looked like a big dumb lug, but he was actually really smart beneath all of that fat and stupid grin and that accent of his. He was smarter than me, and that pissed me off–so I’d tease him non-stop, mostly for being fat, but also for his stupid accent. He hated me so much, but he liked Mike–and that meant I had to get Mike to play along with me, and ridicule him too. Mike always hated to do it, but he was stuck with me for the rest of the year, while Cory could get away after a couple of weeks. It was worth the trade, and even Cory could understand that.

But then came last Spring. All three of us were seventeen, juniors in high school, and I was just ready to be done and off to college already on an athletic scholarship. Cory arrives–and immediately, I can tell something is different about him. Usually when he shows up, especially the last couple of years, he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else–and I love that fucking look, because it means I have the power again. But this time, he shows up with this old ass looking ring on his finger, and when he looks at me–fuck, all I see is pure fucking anger, enough that it actually scares the wits out of me. Mike can see it too, and he looks at me, wondering what to do…or maybe who to side with. “Hey Darren, long time no see,” he says to me–the words are nice enough, but the scowl he’s throwing at me…I can’t even speak.

That first day, I dread the possibility of being alone with him. He’s planning something, but I’m pretty sure I’m safe with my parents in the house–but then, he talks to my mom and dad, suggests they go out on a date and spend the night in a hotel room…and they just up and agree with him! An hour later, it’s the three of us, alone in the house, and Cory is just smiling at me and Mike like we’re fucking mice in a trap. That ring–the way it catches the light–there’s something…wrong about it, but I can’t look away from it, and neither can Mike…and when Cory suggests that the two of us take off our shirts and start making out…it just seems like the most obvious and necessary thing in the world.

I can tell we’re both fucking scared out of our wits, but that’s not stopping us at all, and when Cory emphasizes that we need to be enjoying this, that we should look like we’ve been making out with each other in secret for years–I can actually…remember all of the times before, when we’ve done this, and we’re both moaning, and I hear Cory unzip his pants and start…jacking off while he watches us…

Soon enough, I’m on all fours while Mike is pushing his cock in my ass, Cory egging him on, telling Mike how much he hates me, how much he wants to hurt me, and how I deserve it. Telling Mike how…how much he loves Cory, how much he’s always loved Cory, and then he’s inside me–raw and unlubed. I scream in pain, but Mike doesn’t care anymore–he’s too busy making out with our cousin while he rapes my hole–and it’s clear that these two weeks are not going to be ones I’m ever going to forget in a very, very long time.

The Risks of Subletting

Since I missed a post yesterday, today’s content is double length to make up for it!

Me, Marvin and Alex were all good buddies at school, so when Marvin told us that he’d found a house a few blocks off campus that the three of us couple probably afford to rent together, I was certainly excited by the idea. I’d been living in a double on campus with a guy named Harry, this fat fucking nerd–he was nice enough, I suppose, but that’s just not what you want to wake up in the same room with everyday, you know? Now the three of us, we were all jocks–different sports, but we all worked out together and trained together anyway. Alex was a football guy, Marvin swam, and I ran cross country and track. Marvin might have been the slimmest, but I like to think I was still the hottest of the group–certainly I got the most tail of everyone.

The only problem was that we had to start leasing the place in June. Well, it wasn’t a problem for Marvin and Alex; they both had jobs here for the summer, and were planning on staying around and taking a couple of summer courses. I on the other hand, was heading home for the summer, and so I’d have to find someone to sublet my room to for a few months. Then, my fat roommate mentioned he’d received a research grant, and needed a place to live for the summer around here, and so I offered the room to him, sort of as a joke, but he took me up on it. I knew Alex and Marvin weren’t going to be very happy about living with Harry, but they could suffer through it for a few months, right?

I’d met the landlord, Mr. Adams, by this point too, but it was just a short meeting so I could introduce him to Harry, since Marvin was kind of handling all the details of the renting and lease. He was an older guy, and fuck, he was even fatter than Harry was, as hard as that was to believe. Still, he seemed…disappointed but understanding that I wasn’t going to be using the room for the summer, but he and Harry got on really well, so that was something, at least–in the end, it seemed like everything was shaping up, by the time I packed my things, said goodbye to Marvin and Alex, and got on the train home.

My summer was pretty ordinary. Picked up my usual job helping out in a local warehouse. Hooked up with some old ex-girlfriends who might hate my guts, but they all loved the shit I could do with my cock. I stayed in contact with Alex and Marvin, and they seemed to be having a really good time in the house together, and they couldn’t wait for me to get back to school. They’d even seemed to take a liking to Harry, which surprised me, since I couldn’t stand the nerdy guy, but whatever. It was time to head back to school soon enough. I had to go back a week early for training with the team, so I got there to the house…only to discover that something very strange had been going on.

Marvin and Alex greeted me at the door, and fuck–they’d both fucking ballooned up into a couple of fledgling pigs. I didn’t know what to make of it, and even worse…the two of them couldn’t quite seem to keep their hands off one another, like a couple of faggots. Then, it came out, they actually were a couple of faggots, and had moved into one room together at the landlord’s suggestion, which meant that Harry could have the extra room and keep living with all of us for the year.

Needless to say, I was not amused or interested, and I told them that there was no way I was going to be sharing a house with the three of them. I tried to get them to see that this was all wrong, but they were just staring at me like I was crazy. We were still fighting when the front door opened and in came Harry–though I could only recognize him from his face, since he too had packed on more weight that I thought was even possible. “Well, well, look who finally came home,” he sneered at me. The…anger in his voice was palpable, but not something I’d ever heard before. “You guys tell Mr. Adams he was here?”

“Hell yeah man, Master Adams already had a nice long talk with him. We’ve just been waiting for you to get home.”

I had no idea what they were talking about. ‘Master’ Adams? Mr. Adams was the landlord, but I hadn’t seen him today, had I?

“Let’s find out–boy, get the fuck over here and suck my cock. It’s been a long day in the lab, and daddy’s fucking horny.”

I wanted to tell Harry to shut the fuck up, or I’d shut his mouth for him, but instead…instead my body did something else. I got down on my knees in front of him, hefted up his sagging apron while he dropped his shorts, and I…I started sucking his cock, while Alex and Marvin made out and started fucking behind us, and I finally realized that my living situation had gotten more complex than I’d realized.

I didn’t want to be doing this. I was utterly disgusted with myself. I was straight! I hated fat fucks like this! I needed to get the fuck out of here! But no matter what I told myself, no matter how I tried to fight, my body was completely focused on one thing, and one thing only–sucking daddy’s big, juicy cock until he filled my hungry gut with a big load of delicious cum. My own cock was suddenly hard at the thought, and I started rubbing it, moaning, Daddy chuckling at me as I did, at what a fucking whore I am for big men like him. He was getting close now, leaking profusely in my mouth, and out of the corner of my eye, I swear I saw Mr. Adams next to us, naked, swore I could…hear him speaking. I managed to pull away from the cock to look over, just as Harry blew his load all over the side of my face–and no one was there next to us at all.

“Come on boy, let’s get you situated,” Harry said, reached down, and hauled me up by the collar of my shirt, “Master already told me what he wants me to do to you, and I’m so fucking excited boy, you don’t even fucking know. If I do real good, then he promised me that I’ll get to be a real daddy even, and you’re gonna fucking love that, I can already tell.”

He dragged me over to the couch, sat me down, and turned on some cartoon channel or whatever. I tried to get up, but when Daddy told me to stay–I stayed. My ass couldn’t leave the fucking couch, no matter how much I wanted it to, and then, daddy started feeding me. I don’t know where all the food was even coming from, but it just kept appearing. Mountains of junk food and fatty deep fried shit I would have never touched in my life, but once…Daddy told me to eat it, or if he just shoved it right in my mouth for me…well, pretty soon, I couldn’t stop. I…I sat there for hours, just watching mindless shit on TV, stuffing my face, and I never even felt full. That was the scariest part. I ate more in an afternoon than I usually ate in a week, and I only seemed to be getting hungrier by the second.

Alex and Marvin came down for dinner and gorged themselves. I tried to get them to help me, but I couldn’t even speak. I felt dead to the world, trapped inside my own body, shoveling filth into my mouth non-stop. It was a relief when Daddy told me it was time for bed around eight o’clock, at least, until I discovered my new bedroom. It was decorated like something a ten year old would want, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was when Daddy bent me over the side of the bed and fucked my virgin ass, and again, I…saw Master Adams there, on the bed in front of me, leering down and jacking off his own cock, talking to me, to us…

It’s been a few months now. Alex and Marvin are still going to class and college, but I haven’t left the house since I arrived here. Daddy wakes me up at seven after a good night sleep, sits me on the couch, I watch TV literally all day while he feeds me non-stop, and then, I go back to bed. It’s…fucking with my head. I was never the smartest guy before, but I feel like I’m getting even stupider by the day. These shows are so fucking juvenile, and yet I catch myself laughing at them like an idiot, spraying food everywhere from my mouth while Daddy…beams at me, and I feel warm around my groin, and realize I pissed my diapers again. But seeing my old daddy happy just makes…makes me lose control, every time.

These diapers are new though. I’ve…been losing control of myself a lot lately, especially at night, and so Daddy started diapering me up, telling me it’s what Master wanted, to keep me protected. I’m fucking humiliated, and yet, I can’t sucking stop pissing myself. I even shit in them yesterday. I tried to stop it, but it just…came out. Daddy told me I was a good boy, and changed me, and I…I do like being a good boy for Daddy, I guess. Daddy’s gotten really sexy lately too, the way his hair is balding, that thick beard turning grey. He’s…he’s my favorite person in the whole wide world, and I’m so lucky I get to be his little boy. Still, it’s bedtime for little boys now, and Daddy’s taking me to bed. I…see myself in the mirror, and I barely even recognize the fat, smooth body looking back at me…or is that just who I am now? I don’t know, thinking is hard, and Daddy’s cock is delicious. I’ll suck Daddy’s cock now, and try and think again later.