Hey all, sorry about the last post! The public poll link was broken. Here’s the correct link to the public poll. The link in the original story is fixed as well. Thanks for your understanding!
Home for the Holidays – Episode 2 (Part 4)
WARNING: SCAT
Mark could feel himself…growing. He tugged at the belt he was wearing, getting it off from around his thin waist, as his gut began to expand, filling with fat just as his brother had a moment before. It was…the same sensation he’d felt with his father and uncle, that the curse was rebounding on him somehow, that he was tied to it, sympathetically. It didn’t hurt exactly, but it also wasn’t exactly comfortable–and when Buzz walked up and started rubbing his belly, delighting in Mark’s changes, it only made him feel even sicker somehow, seeing the old slob enjoying his change this much.
“Why *grunt* is this happening to me,” Mark managed to get out, hearing himself grunt just like his brother had, and with one hand, he tentatively felt his face, and sure enough, a short snout had sprouted there–not as pronounced as Luke’s, but enough to be unmistakable for what it was.
“Because you’re becoming a warlock, Mark–you’re embracing the darkness inside of you. It’s going to grow and grow, and pretty soon, you won’t be able to remember a time when your head wasn’t full of this perverse darkness, same as me, and same as that friend of ours, Magnus.”
“Magnus…he’s nothing like you.”
“Oh, the only difference between Magnus and I is that he cares more about…keeping up appearances. Just wait until you lay eyes on him, once you’re ready. You’re going to see him for who he really is, and then you’ll understand what I mean.”
Mark wanted to deny it, wanted to push that darkness away, but…he could feel it, inside him. It was a power he hadn’t felt before, but also a need, a hunger. He sniffed the air, and he…smelled something. Something he wanted. He rolled over on the bed and followed his snout over to where his brother was sitting in his filthy coveralls, jacking his pig cock, smelling the shit, and piss, and cum, and musk welling up around him, and…and it was turning him on. He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t, and he tried to pull himself away, but Buzz was still inside his mind, still pulling his strings, dulling his intuitions, feeding that…hunger.
“You see, being a warlock isn’t about just about forcing this darkness onto others, we revel in it as well. We share it. Everything you have forced onto these men, it’s inside you as well, it always was, just waiting to grow. Don’t fight it–you won’t win, and giving in is going to feel so good. Just…embrace it…Accept what you need…”
Mark didn’t…remember what happened next, exactly, how he dug into the back of Luke’s coveralls, devouring the mess there, unable to help himself, how it had driven him into a state of bliss, and delight, and he’d pinned him down on the bed and fucked him, both of them rutting like the pigs they were, while Buzz urged them on, eventually taking the other end of Luke, pumping a load of his own cum down Luke’s pig throat, and after Mark came in his ass, he could feel some of the darkness receding, and he was able to break away, run to the bathroom, and vomit up what he could into the toilet, horrified at what he’d done, horrified, and yet…so satisfied at the same time. So eager to try it again, so eager and hungry for more.
Buzz came up behind him, aimed his cock, and started pissing all over Mark’s head, and the hunger returned. He found himself laying back against the toilet, maw open, drinking down as much of Buzz’s piss as he could, still stroking his piggy cock, unable to help himself, while Buzz just laughed. “There’s no going back for you now, you realize that, right? Every step you take is just going to make this even worse–and I can feel how much you want it. Fuck, I fought too, when Magnus helped me down the path, but this was the best thing I could have ever become–you’ll see too, in the end, that this is what you were made for. This is what you have always needed to be.”
He finished pissing, and then left Mark there in the bathroom, covered in piss, jacking off wildly, desperate to control himself…but unable to find the will to resist. He came again, and when he did, the darkness ebbed away a bit further, and he was left on the floor of the bathroom, horrified at himself, but also…part of him was embracing it. Buzz was right, there was something inside him, something real, a twisted knot he’d always felt as long as he could recall, and now…now he didn’t think he’d be able to put it back, to shrink it, or anything…
He wanted to cry, but just felt numb. Eventually, he stood up, and stumbled out of the doorway and into the rest of the filthy house. Buzz was waiting for him, dressed, and told him it was time for them to pay someone else a visit, but who?
What should happen next?
- Buzz wants to visit John, the oldest brother, with his new habits.
- Buzz wants to visit Isaac, his cousin suffering under the imago curse.
- Buzz wants to visit Magnus, to take Mark down the next step in his path together.
- A mysterious stranger arrives, and helps Mark escape from Buzz, telling him he wants to help.
Voting ends in a few days!
Arctos: Filters – Episode 4 (Part 2)
He didn’t have to wait long, at least–Jay headed straight for Bruce’s stall, unlocked it, and swung the gate open. He was dressed in his usual gear for his morning routines–overalls, waders, a flannel shirt. “Sorry for the wait, pig,” he said, “Chores took a bit longer this morning than I expected. Now, how about breakfast?”
Bruce just grunted in affirmation, not really needing words for this, as Jay led him down the row of stalls to a large trough, with several buckets of slop beside it. Bruce bellied right up to the metal, and Jay tipped the buckets into it, and Bruce could barely control himself–the hunger was so damn powerful, he didn’t even think twice about shoving his face right into the muck and chowing down as fast as he could. It was…instinctual. Inside himself, Bruce tried to pull back, tried to contain himself, tried to measure the gluttony that had been growing inside him for the last few hours in the stall, but this body refused to be limited–it wanted food, and it wanted…it wanted to get fucked, and anything else going on inside Bruce’s mind didn’t even matter, beyond those physical demands. He felt Jay run one hand along his back, and Bruce…shuddered, wiggling his tail and his ass, hoping Jay would know what the pig needed–but of course Jay knew what he needed. After all, Jay had made him like this.
Looking down at Bruce, Jay was…ecstatic. It wasn’t everything that he wanted, but he had a whole day to get there. This was the start of it, this is what he wanted Bruce to feel first–he wanted him to give up that control, that constant, aggravating need to constantly hold himself back from the pig he could be, if he just let himself go. So now, he didn’t have a choice. His body would want what his body wanted, and there was nothing that Bruce would be able to do about it, besides enjoy the ride–because Jay knew he was going to enjoy it–he’d make sure of it, one way or another.
“I knew you would make a handsome piebald,” Jay said, running his hand further back, and down Bruce’s quivering rump, “a handsome pig over all, I should say. I’ve been waiting all morning for this pig, you know, been so damn horny, doing my chores, and I bet you are too. Aching for some hot, farmer dick at this point I bet–well how about I make us both feel a bit better, eh?”
Bruce gave a squeal through a snoutful of food, doing his best to signal his desperation, and the moments while Jay undid the fly of his overalls and hauled out his cock seemed to stretch out longer still than the hours spent waiting in his stall. At last, he felt Jay’s cock press against the entrance to his hole, teasing him, forcing Bruce to slide back to fuck himself, pulling himself free of the slop, his hunger pulling him back forward, caught between two instincts he couldn’t reconcile, his mind just a brick of frustration, until at last, Jay thrust into him, forcing him forward, shoving his entire face into the slop, and everything felt…right.
Where time had stretched out for so long before, now each moment felt weightless. He ate. Jay fucked him. His own hard pig cock throbbed beneath him, beating against his gut, and he could feel his balls throbbing and churning, his own load building slowly but surely as well. He lost track of how much he ate, how long Jay fucked him, all that mattered was that he was getting what he needed. Getting what he wanted, more than anything, feeling something he had never experienced before, a complete and utter moment of satisfaction. This was all he’d needed. This was all that he’d ever needed. Food, and a fuck. Is this what Jay wanted him to feel, or is this just the natural result? In any case…it was seductive. He’d felt so many worries for so long, so many concerns that he wasn’t…enough. That his life should hold more than it did, that being happy wasn’t enough, that he wasn’t enough, that his relationships weren’t enough, that his life wasn’t enough. But in that moment, it was. He felt it, that peak, that sensation that everything he needed was met, and he could…rest, perhaps. His mind could rest at least, for the moment, and he could just enjoy the wave of emotion and sensation rushing though him–and then, his cock exploded, and everything else grew even fainter, as the orgasm ripped through him.
His orgasms had always been powerful before, usually holding strong for a few minutes at a time, before ebbing away over another ten minutes or so. This, however, was something else entirely. The pleasure struck him, and just…held there, the intensity not falling away at all, his mind so overwhelmed with sensation that it simply shut off. Bruce didn’t remember what happened for the next half hour or so, because Bruce didn’t really exist for that time. He wasn’t…needed. His body did what it wanted for the next half hour or so–it ate, and kept slamming his ass back against Jay’s cock–and when Bruce became aware of the world again, when there was space inside him to think, he saw that the trough had emptied itself, and he was left licking the metal for scraps he had missed, and Jay was finished fucking him–and from the cum running down the inside of his thighs, had obviously finished inside him at some point while he was gone. Jay was beside him now, at the trough, one arm draped over his broad shoulders, stroking him while he finished eating, and the needs were finally sated enough that he could tear himself away, panting, somehow exhausted, and look at him. Before he could say anything though, Jay leaned in and kissed him, licking some of the slop from the end of his snout, sliding his tongue into Bruce’s mouth, and it was so…gentle, so calming after the whirlwind he’d just been through, that Bruce just kissed him back, enjoying the tenderness they could share for the moment, until Jay pulled away again, grinning that cocky grin of his–obviously thinking he’d already won.
Arctos: Filters – Episode 4 (Part 1)
Bruce didn’t wake up in the bed he’d fallen asleep in–instead, the sun beamed down on him through the thin cracks between the old barn walls, as he began to stir on his bed of straw, stretching out his legs as he opened his eyes. He’d…slept really soundly, harder than he had in a long time, and it took him awhile to realize that he wasn’t imagining things, that he really was out in the barn, alone in a stall, lying on his side here, just thinking about…nothing in particular. After all, he didn’t need to think about anything. All he had to do was wait for breakfast–which would probably be here soon…though he might be able to sleep for a little while longer, if he just shut his eyes and relaxed…
But Bruce didn’t do that, because Bruce could feel that this was off–he could still remember, distantly, that he had fallen asleep in a bed the night before, that everything telling him this was normal was…wrong, somehow. He focused, and things came back to him, slowly–the deal he’d made with Jay coming back into focus, and with a loud grunt, he realized that it had happened! Jay had changed him in the night–he hadn’t even waited for him to wake up to do it. Part of him couldn’t help but feel a bit violated, that he hadn’t even had a chance to prepare for this, but the other part of him was so…well, content, that it was difficult for Bruce to muster the emotional energy to really care. Still, he wanted to see what had changed, exactly–he tried to roll up, but his hands and feet didn’t seem to be working the way they remembered–he focused on his hands, and saw that, well…he didn’t have hands.
Instead of his usual, thick arms, he had legs–two front pig legs, ending with thick black trotters where his hands should be. He bent around, and saw that his legs were also no longer mostly human as they had been–they were just his back legs. It looked like, unless Jay changed his mind later, that Bruce was going to be spending the day on all fours for the time being. Wondering how he’d be able to manage, he went back to trying to roll upright, and it proved easier than he was expecting. His body…knew how to manage well enough with the four legs, and so it was only a few minutes before he was standing on them all, shaking a bit, getting used to the new sensation of his trotters against the ground, and once he was stable, he tried walking.
The stall wasn’t very large, but it was large enough that he could get a few paces back and forth. He only fell down once, when he was trying to hard to make his legs work how he thought they should work, but once he stopped focusing on it so much, it became more natural–this was…just how he walked, after all–or that’s what the new chunk of his mind told him, even though the old Bruce knew it wasn’t true, not really. He took the time to examine the rest of his body, though it was difficult without a mirror, but not too much else seemed to have changed overall–his body seemed a bit chunkier perhaps, but it was hard to tell if that was because of something changing, or just because of how his new body looked, it was hard to tell. One thing that was definitely different was his skin tone. Where before he had been pink all over, his skin was now mottled in a piebald pattern, with large brown spots all over him. He remembered that Jay had told him once how handsome a piebald pig looked, and apparently, handsome had also meant sexy.
He turned circles a couple of times, trying to quell the panic in his chest, but eventually he realized there was nothing he could do, especially without actual hands, and he plopped back down on the straw, figuring he would just have to wait for Jay to come see him, hopefully with breakfast in tow, because one thing Bruce knew for sure was that he was hungry–hungrier than he could ever really recall being, in fact. Left with nothing but his thoughts in the stall, all Bruce could do was think about this, about what Jay wanted out of this exactly. He knew that Bruce had always liked it when Bruce pretended to be a real pig on all fours, but was that what he really wanted from him? To…be a pig? It seemed…simple, somehow, but then, what exactly had he expected Jay to do to him? More importantly, he supposed, did he like it himself? That was the bar, after all–Jay was doing this to show Bruce not only what Jay wanted, but to prove to Bruce that he wanted it too. But so far, the only thing Bruce was feeling was, well, boredom. Well, boredom and hunger, and increasingly, horniness. Perhaps worst of all, there was nothing he could do about any of them.
The minutes ticked by. Or, he imagined them ticking by. He didn’t really have a measure of time in the stall, aside from the impossibly slow shift in the bars of light from the sun on the side of the barn. He got up and paced occasionally, had some water from the basin in the stall, and mostly just…laid around, feeling the needs inside of him building and welling, taking up more and more of his attention, until he wasn’t sure if he was more desperate for food or a fuck, or just both of them together. Mostly, he was just eager for something to happen–why was Jay making him wait? Why just change him and leave him here? Was there some…point to it? Bruce realized, then, the sheer scope of the power he’d handed to Jay when he’d given him the phone and the app. He only had Jay’s word, after all, that he would change him back after today, and while Jay was trustworthy…given the revelations of the day before, who knew what Jay was thinking? He called out, after a while, relieved that he could, at least, still speak words, though his voice had shifted down into something more guttural, and his words were always accompanied by a series of grunts and oinks that he couldn’t control. His cries were never met with an answer though, and so he waited, feeling his stomach churn around an empty pit, his cock and ass aching…and finally, he heard it, the familiar sound of the barn door opening, and he scrambled up onto all fours, squealing, desperate for attention.
Home For the Holidays – Christmas (Part 3)
Ever since Thanksgiving, Luke hadn’t been able to sort out what was wrong with him, but he knew that something had to be wrong with him. He’d…fallen asleep, or whatever, with Mark in that room, and when he’d woken up with a load of shit in the back of his jeans and the front wet with piss, instead of feeling horror at what had happened, he…he’d climbed into his truck and drove off, heading somewhere–heading to Buzz’s place. Luke couldn’t recall what Buzz looked like, or where he’d met him, or why he thought this stranger was his best friend…but he had to see him. See, Luke was sick of working in real estate–what he really wanted to do, more than anything else, was work as a trash collector.
The dissonance in his mind gave him a headache, as he tried to reconcile what his commandments were telling him with what he knew he was supposed to be feeling, but everything in his mind was just being…rewritten faster than he could even begin to understand it. By the time his shit cooled in the back of his jeans, he could come up with a hundred reasons why he hated real estate, and why he’d always wanted to be a trash collector. By the time he pulled up in front of the rundown house with the brown, overgrown yard half an hour later, the new rules were just…him.
As soon as he saw Buzz, memories created themselves in his head, of past times they’d hung out, of all the good times he’d had with Buzz, how safe he felt here, and he asked him–asked Buzz to help him out, that he finally wanted to make the jump–he wanted to be a trashman, he’d do…anything to get there, and he knew Buzz could help him…and the cruelty in his friend’s face was so obvious, it gave Luke pause for a moment, until his head could catch up and bring that back under control.
Buzz made him beg. Buzz made him humiliate himself, tell Buzz about how he couldn’t control himself, how he wanted to be dirty, how dirty men turned him on so much. Buzz asked Luke if he was dirty enough for him, making him smell his rank pits, his nasty feet, working Luke up into a lather, telling him in was no surprise that he wanted to be a trashman, because the only thing he really wanted to do was clean up other people’s filth. In the end, he told Luke that the only way he’d help him be a trashman was if he ate the shit right out of his ass, if he showed him just how filthy and nasty he wanted to be…and while Luke tried to resist it, tried to get out of there, tried to get control of himself…he knew the truth. He was in control of himself. He was here because he…wanted to be here. And so, he did what Buzz demanded, and ate the dirty old man’s shit for the first time. He ate it, and felt so…dirty, and perverse, that he couldn’t stop himself from jacking off while he did it, couldn’t resist reaching down the back of his pants, so he could taste his own, cold shit too, see…see how they compared.
The rest was a blur, really. It had only been a week, but Luke was so…different now, his mind twisted so far by those three new commandments, that he couldn’t possibly think of his life going in any other direction. He wore a diaper at work, usually, the same diaper, day after day, and he would empty it at lunch and after his shift was over before putting it back on. During his days off, he would stay with Buzz, and Buzz would help him become dirtier, help him with new obsessions, help him be the kind of man he was supposed to be–and then Mark arrived in his room…and he could almost remember what his brother had done to him, that he was here because of him…but then Luke and Buzz started chanting at him, and he began to change again.
Buzz had been…frustrated by how skinny Luke was. He’d put him on a feeding regimen to help pack on some pounds, but it was taking too long. Now though, Luke felt his body suddenly expand with fat, and he let out a series of snorts and grunts as he felt himself, rubbed his grubby body, feeling a new, horrific, insatiable hunger welling up inside of him, even as he kept changing. His face…ached, mouth pushing out into a short snout, two tusks curling up from his lower jaw, his short beard turning rough and bristly, the same as the boar bristle running down his back, growing in thicker, even as his belly turned soft and hairless, three more sets of nipples appearing down the front. His cock changed too, growing a bit larger, twisting into a corkscrew as it did, wet from his sheath, and Luke…gripped it, stroked it, feeling the lusts inflamed inside him, feeling his mind shutting down little by little as violent, insatiable instinct crowding out his reason, and the half man, half pig, sat there in his own filth, masturbating, grunting and squealing, while Mark looked on in horror at what Buzz had just made him do.
“There we go, isn’t that better?” Buzz said to him, “He was such a skinny little thing–when he’s out in public, most people will just see him as a fatass glutton, but he’s going to be a fuck and food hungry pig from now on–how do you feel, Luke? Feeling…better?” Buzz leered at him, but all Luke was feeling was…lightheaded, and sick to his stomach. It didn’t feel like he had pushed the darkness out, it felt like it had grown inside him somehow, that even more of him was corrupted by some insidious force, and he stumbled, falling on the bed behind Luke, who barely noticed, Buzz looming over him, soothing him, telling him everything was going to be just fine, soon enough.
- Luke picks up some of the pig qualities from the curse he just cast.
- Luke’s reality shifts, and he’s a dirty trashman now too.
- Luke finds himself compelled to fuck his pig brother, now just as turned on by filth as Buzz is.
- Luke grows even older, and finds himself looking more and more like Buzz–and he’s attracted to him too.
Voting ends in a couple of days!
The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 8 (Part 3)
There was a ripple across him, and he began to choke. Instinctively he tried to push himself off, and I had to hold him close, face pressed to my hips, my massive cock buried inside him until he went slack, and simply accepted what needed to happen–and as soon as he accepted it, I could feel the thrumming in his body as his muscles began to vibrate, and change. Deeper still, the bones were shifting as well, his face, warping away from its human appearance as it sucked and gnawed on my cock, milking the law out of it and into its guts. The stench surrounding the beast he was quickly becoming intensified, and that was what finally brought Jules out of his terror–it was the smell if his master, smelling how his master ought to smell, as powerful a musk as he could have, and Jules, already conditioned to need it, couldn’t stay away, despite the terror in his human heart.
Hair sprouted all over Ray’s massive frame, and he was sucking harder and harder on me, eager for more, eager to take in as much of it as he possibly could, now that freedom was this close. I shuddered, and fed him my full load, and the changes accelerated–his entire frame expanded, growing wider and taller, the entire room permeated with the beast’s pheromones, Jules, unable to think of anything else, plastered to the beast’s armpit, licking up as much sweat as he could, not noticing the small changes spreading across his own body, losing track of its own humanity, forgetting those false laws, and following the laws of his masterful beast instead. I pulled myself free of Ray, and the beast leered up at me–eyes black, wide mouth full of fangs, a wide nose, thick beard and hair matted with filth and sweat, and turned its attentions to it’s little thrall. It knew now, it knew the law in it’s guts, and it could spread it just as well as I could now. It picked Jules up, and I saw it’s massive cock sliding free of its sheath, at least a foot long, and very thick, with an inhuman, spade shaped head that it drove into Jule’s ass, fucking him, filling him, and Jules’ own changes began to accelerate–it would take a bit of time, as it had with the blobs upstairs, but before too long, Jules would be gone, and there would just be two beasts–alpha and beta–ready to spread their laws to others worthy of them.
By now, my brother hand changed into his true form–or as close to his true form as he could get, now. Close to eight feet tall, thickly muscled, hairy and brutish, he was just as Bernard and others had described him–but I could see more than that, see deeper than that. Under the human skin he couldn’t shake, there was so much more, so much…rage, and power–perhaps even more than me, now that I was confronting it directly. Cumster was eagerly sucking down as much of the bruiser’s cum as he could, thrilled to finally be serving his creator in the form he had always needed to embody–but I was impatient. I wanted to see my brother, finally, to meet him, and bring him into the world, to see what he was capable free of this human shell.
I pulled him away from Cumster, wrapping my flesh around him, feeling him, surrounding him, probing the human skin containing him, and he raged against me, the human raged against me most, but he raged too–rage was part of him, the greatest part of him. He could sense that this form of him, the form which had grown so comfortable, was at the end of its time. We danced. We danced something far more intricate than what I had danced with the blobs above us. I wrapped him, contained him, and he tore at me, and beat me, and bruised me, hammering at me as hard as he could, testing my mettle and my skin and my desire. In the end though, there was no way he could beat me, not like this. We ended the dance with him on all fours, ass up, my flesh wound around him tightly, cutting into his skin, and my cock slid into his ass–the bruiser screamed a howl from some deep jungle of the night, some forgotten place where darkness is the only certainty. It was an animal, is was the cry of an animal that humans would hear in the night, imagining only claws and teeth and vicious death, a cry they would desperately rationalize and name, but there was no name for him, not in any of their languages.
I fucked him, and he fought. I raped him, as he had raped so many, without mercy, without care or consideration. I raped him, and filled him with my law, and I could see the skin of his humanity begin to peel away, first from his back, and then from the rest of him, revealing…such beauty, how do I even put it into words for you fooling things to try and comprehend? There are no words anymore, I see that now. You will see, soon enough. We are both free, we are both finally free, and we can feel others pressing through, emerging, ripping and tearing their way through your paper thin reality that you thought was strong enough to keep us from existing. But there is nowhere for you to run now. There is nowhere that you can hide from us. Deny us. Rationalize us. Name us. We have no names, no reasons–we come for you. Those of you who are strong enough, you will relish us, in time, once we free you. Once he beats you free of your shell, or I fill you with the law, you will know. You will become the things you were always meant to be, the things you have hidden away for the sake of conforming to this mass, human delusion. The rest of you, the weakest, will be consumed. You will glimpse us in the darkness, and know, finally, that your existence was an error. That there is nothing real holding you here, that you, all of you, is just a flimsy, boring lie, that the only thing allowing you to cling to some little existence is your sheer banality. We will end you. We will end all of you, and things shall, once more, be returned to the proper order.
I freed him. I gave him a taste of the law, a taste of what could be, of his own potential, and everything else fell away, sloughed off from him, and he grew. He grew tight against my bonds, tight against my flesh, tight against my cock, squeezing it, fucking himself on it now, gripping it hard enough that it hurt, but I fought through it. We danced again, then. We dance each day, we dance each moment, together. We will dance, and dance, and dance, and crush this world under our boot and claw, we will dance, oh will we dance! We will dance with each of you, in turn, and the world will be like nothing any of you have ever seen.
The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 8 (Part 2)
I went down into the basement, and the three of them followed me. Cumster was there, still bound on his knees, but it was clear that what I had fed him earlier was having an affect. HE looked ill. He looked inhuman, already, in fact, but he raised his head when I came down the stairs, and the eagerness I saw when he saw me–he knew. He understood that what I was giving him, the law, was a death, sure, but it was so much more than that. He could feel the power beyond this world’s laws that was waiting for him, and he craved it, as Cumster had craved everything in his life. Marcus, also still bound in the basement, was is a different state altogether. The terror had ebbed, but it was clear that all of this had moved well beyond the extent of his imagination. Where had he thought this would end? I don’t know–perhaps with him at the feat of the rapist, begging for a second chance, begging for truth he couldn’t understand or sustain. There was also jealousy. Jealousy that I had fed Cumster something which was clearly changing him…but which I hadn’t given to Marcus. The jealousy had grown, and eclipsed the fear at this point–he was realizing that if he couldn’t get what he wanted from the rapist, perhaps I could provide it. I couldn’t, but I freed him as best I could.
Cumster was aching for me, and without any real explanation, I let my cock slide from my sheath, and pressed it to Cumster’s lips, watching him suck it down as quickly as he could, swallowing the cum that began to flow immediately, that cold, chilly death filling his guts again, but so much more than that as well. The bonds were no longer necessary, and so I allowed them to fall away, giving everyone a clearer look at his warping and shifting body. He was growing fatter, but not fat in the same, soft way as the men had in the warehouse earlier. Cumster’s gut expanded, but grew firm, his flesh losing it’s color until it was more grey than pink, the same washed out color as cum, really–it even picked up a bit of translucence. The pores in his skin turned on, and a sheen of something appeared all over his body–and when the smell hit everyone, they realized it was cum.
Cumster would no longer sweat–not as a human did, at least. He would sweat cum continuously, always coated in a slimy layer of his own semen, dripping off him as he knelt, a continuous, but weak, orgasm coursing through him constantly. It was no longer blood pumping through him, but cum. Everything inside him, everything that could become it, was just semen–it was what he was meant to be, he realized this now, and he would have to keep himself supplied with a near constant amount from now on. The hair on his body thinned out, falling away from the top his head, his beard growing wiry, looking more like pubes than anything else. Still, it was finished–I retracted my cock from his gullet, and watched him lick his lips with a long, narrow tongue, his pale eyes gleaming up at me–and I turned towards Marcus, undoing enough of his bonds that his cock was free–as well as the sizable balls Cumster had given him earlier.
Making a gurgling noise I supposed was speech of a kind, Cumster sagged his way over to him, his movements more like those of a half filled water balloon than anything human,and attached himself to Marcus’ cock–and began to suck. Marcus groaned in pleasure as the first orgasm ripped through him, but it wasn’t long before he realized something was wrong. Marcus could…feel Cumster’s will trying to shape him, but Marcus’ body wasn’t strong enough. Instead, he was shrinking, and dissolving. The orgasms ripping through him grew in intensity, and his protests turned to begging, and turned to whimpering, as Cumster kept sucking, and sucking, until he’d converted Marcus’ entire body into cum, and slurped it all down into his gut.
The process only took fifteen minutes or so, and the four of us–me and my brother, and Jules and Ray–stood there in rapt fascination until Cumster had sat up, Marcus’ hefty balls in his hands, and swallowed them whole with a loud belch that sounded more like a swamp bubble than anything else, and looked up at me, greatly satisfied.
I could almost hear the gears in my brother’s head clicking together. Everything that had always confused him about Cumster, everything that had kept drawing him back to that man, when no one else he’d unleashed had ever held his interest, suddenly made more sense–because this was what he’d always been meant to be. Beyond this false reality, this was the thing that Cumster was, stripped of his humanity, stripped of these artificial laws, this was what his true self was. The bruiser had been able to sense it, but hadn’t understood what it meant–at least until now. He walked over to Cumster and touched him, feeling the ooze on his flesh, Cumster leaning in, sniffing for his cock, and the rapist…began to grow before my eyes, physique expanding into something massive, and not quite human but also not quite true yet, as he fucked Cumster’s face, ready to feed the dump another load–and I turned away towards Ray and Jules.
Well, Ray, really. Jules was simply horrified, and that didn’t surprise me in the least. Certainly Ray had changed him, but Jules had wanted what was happening to him, I could smell that now. Given what I had known about Jules before this, about his working out in the gym, his past as a jock, it shouldn’t have surprised me so much at the time that he would have felt drawn to Ray. I’m sure that, if he had found the rapist (or if the rapist had found him) he would have become something similar to Ray, at the end of his unleashing. But he wasn’t far enough along to understand any of this, and his brain could only understand what he was seeing as some living nightmare. He would understand soon enough though. Ray, on the other hand, was shaking–but not in fear, only in anticipation. He fell to his knees in front of me, knowing what was coming next, knowing why he had been so attracted to me before, but why he had…also been afraid of me, in the cop car, though he hadn’t let the fear show. I was more than him. I was more than him, and I was also the only one who could free him. He hefted up my cock with both of his hands, pressed it to his lips, and began to swallow–and I slid into him, gently, curling up deep within him, allowing the law to flow.
The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 8 (Part 1)
I arrived home after the three of them, by a few minutes at least, if not a bit longer. Time is…difficult now. In any case, I was the last to arrive at my home, and now, everyone was there, in this story. Well, everyone except Bernard, who had his own ending. Everyone else though, was there–Ray and Jules, I could feel them together, and I could see better now, Ray’s law, how it was cracking through this reality just like Cumster’s had. Jules was fainter, but already he was beginning to dissolve–his humanity, that is. Ray was overwhelming him, and in a few months, nothing of the old Jules would remain–especially not after I gave them a bit of assistance.
Cumster and Marcus were still bound in the basement. Marcus–all I could feel of him was the same brittle terror he always seemed to exude. Humanity–so interested in stability, and regularity, and predictability–it created these things like Marcus, these humans that were…nothing. Just the surface, no depth, with no capacity for growth or change. It was no wonder that they longed so desperately for us–they were the ones who needed us most, the ones we could do nothing for (or at least, the two of us could do nothing. Perhaps another will help them, at some point, but for now, they are hopeless). Cumster…he was already different, already something else. Not finished, not at all finished, but oh, my gift would be such a treasure when I was finished with it.
Then, the three gluttons, as I thought of them. They were inside, and had already commandeered a room of their own, and were feeding off one another, as was their law, of course. With them, observing them, was the final person–the bruiser, my brother, seeing what I had done with his wild thing. Then, there was me, the law–free at last!–and this is the last thing I shall write to you, my last testament. We are coming, the veil will be rent, and your reality will crumble to the dust it always should have been. We are coming, your omega, your alpha–your end, but a new beginning. If you can still understand this, then prepare.
I entered my home, and felt the glamour fall away as I did, and I could relax again as myself. I went to check on the gluttons, and as I’d sensed, the three of them were also in their true forms, the two minor ones feasting on the central one, sucking at it’s teats with their massive mouths, grinding up against it, all of them behaving more like one singular organism than three separate ones. I doubted that the three of them would ever be apart again, and certainly any human lucky to be drawn into the mass would become just like them in time. I could see it, the future of this, an entire swarm of these bloated beasts, and it was enough for my cock to slide free yet again, into my hand–but it could wait.
In the kitchen was Ray, and Jules. It was clear that Ray had tried to free his thrall from by ropes, but hadn’t had any real luck, and so he was waiting–along with a rather unassuming fellow, also sitting at the table. He was slight, tall but thin, with thick rimmed glasses, a smooth face, and bland features. Not a human I would have ever thought to remember–but underneath, I could feel the storm there, brewing and swelling at the sight of me, the first taste of real hope my brother had felt in so long, trapped within this empty shell of a human, a shell I was eager to help it shed as soon as possible. I waved by hand, and the straps came free from Jules, allowing him to breathe easier, and he flung himself at Ray, eager to be back with his master, and with his scent. Ray was, like Cumster…close to the law, but not of the law. Could bend the men around him to himself, but not outside the bounds of this reality–but I could help him, help them both, help them all–but that could wait a moment. I looked at my brother, at his unassuming and rather boring features, and considered what was beneath him as well, what I could sense.
I could also sense that he was surprised, and I remember be said as much, that he hadn’t…expected me to become something like this. That he’d thought I was like him, that when he freed me, I would form the same symbiosis with my host as he had. Instead, I was free. Entirely free, and I think it terrified him, though he never said it. He hadn’t expected me to become something more than him–he had, for so long, considered himself to be alone, but beyond alone, he was the superior. To be faced with the fact that not only were there others like him, but that those others would be more powerful than he was…it was not something my brother took well, nor did the human he was inhabiting. Then again, that human could sense that its time was coming to an end, that when I was finished, it would no longer exist as it did now, and I’m certain part of my brother’s apprehension was that.
It wasn’t helped by the fact that there was only so much I could say to him, about what had happened to me, about what I was. This record is more than what I could tell him, then. It was all so new, in that moment, everything was felt, not thought or understood, and my inability to answer his (meaningless, in my opinion) questions was rather infuriating for us both. So I decided to simply demonstrate instead. I thought about beginning with Ray–he was, after all, right there–but Cumster was my gift, and I had already begun the process. No reason to make him wait down there, with a gut full of darkness, just waiting for me to complete him.
Home for the Holidays – Christmas (Part 2)
Well, Mark thought, he was here–he might as well hear Buzz out and see what he had to suggest. After all, it wasn’t like Magnus was in any mood to help him, and if what Buzz said was right, about undoing curses being as dangerous as he said, maybe his method would be safer. “Alright, so…how to I channel it, or whatever, into them?”
Buzz got a glimmer in his eye, but rather than dispel some of his concerns, it only made Mark feel a little more…uneasy. This wasn’t the same as the first time he’d met Buzz, to get the ingredients for the curses. Magnus…had told Buzz to drop his name when he got there, that it was the only way Buzz would likely even open the door, and Magnus had been right. Buzz had been gruff, impatient, dismissive, and as uninterested as he could be. Mark had barely even gotten the ingredients out of the guy–the exchange for one of his brothers was the only thing that had interested Buzz at all. Now though…he was warmer, and more concerned. He also kept…looking at Mark, and would touch him on occasion. A hand on the shoulder, or brushing a hand across his ass…and it was making him feel uncomfortable, enough so that he was having a hard time focusing on what Buzz was even saying to him.
“So, do you understand?” Buzz asked, and Mark, uncomfortable and unsure of whether this was a good idea, told him that he hadn’t really been able to follow what he’d said.
“Look, a curse is like…a hole. You dig the hole in someone’s life, or self, and then you fill it up with the darkness they forced on you–but that connection lingers. If you don’t get all that darkness out–if you don’t fill them up with everything they gave you, then what’s left is going to wound you instead. The channel is still open, as long as you’re still changing, and so you can keep filling, got it? It doesn’t even have to be the same curse, exactly. If anything, the curse you chose for this one,” Buzz said, indicating Mark’s middle brother, “is, well, I’m not surprised you’re getting some blowback.”
“What do you mean?” Mark asked, “Magnus said–”
“Yeah yeah, Magnus…trust me, I know his skill set, we’ve been compatriots for a long time. But curses? I know curses. You…have got some beautiful darkness inside you man, and it will just keep eating at you if you don’t do something with it,” Buzz said, sliding closer on the couch where they were sitting, one hand on Mark’s thigh, his breath reeking close to his face…but then Buzz pulled away again. “Come on,” let’s get ready.
Together, Buzz and Mark selected another curse for his middle brother, Luke, something Buzz promised him would pack a significantly greater punch than the last. Then, he got his first look at his brother…and well, some of Mark’s resolve fled the room. He wasn’t the brother he remembered from a few weeks ago. Dressed in a set of filthy coveralls, reeking of piss and shit, he was sitting in his room, groping his cock through his diaper, watching some of the filthiest, nastiest porn Mark had ever seen–and he was so focused on it, he didn’t even turn to look as the two of them stepped into the room.
Mark circled around so he could get a better look, and through Luke’s short beard, he looked…disgusting, and from the flecks of brown in his beard, he could imagine some of the paces Buzz had been putting him through. “What…what the fuck did you do to him?” Mark asked.
“You gave him to me–what I do to him is my business.”
The regret and dismay he’d been feeling intensified, and again, Mark felt the second thoughts welling up inside him. Luke…didn’t deserve this. The men in his family had been shitty, sure, but this–he had gone too far, he could see that now. “Fuck this, I’m–I’m getting him out of here, he doesn’t deserve this,” Mark said, and went to heft his brother up–but before he could, it was like some…strange string in his mind pulled tight, and he couldn’t move an inch.
“Now, now, young man,” Buzz said, “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to pull your strings, but I’m afraid I can’t let you…disrupt your brother here like that. After all, he’s very happy here, with me, his Master–and he’s going to be even happier after you do what we’d just planned on doing, I think.”
Mark struggled against it, but he realized, then, that he could feel them–all the little strings of control Buzz had been slipping into him during that first explanation, the one he hadn’t been able to understand, or even really remember.
“You know, if I’m being honest, I never understood what Magnus saw in you, when he told me. Even when you came here, I thought he had lost his touch–but you know what? I was wrong. Look at you now? How you’ve…matured,” Buzz came closer, running a dirty hand across Mark’s aging face. He tried to flinch, but instead, he opened his mouth, and allowed Buzz to slide his fingers inside. “There is…so much darkness inside you–we can make a warlock of you yet, I think. It was smart of him to drive you to me though–we’ll be great friends, soon enough, once you get a proper taste of it.”
Mark didn’t understand–were Buzz and Magnus working together? But that didn’t make any sense! He didn’t have time to sort much of it out though, before another string pulled, and Mark felt…something else slide into him, a sick, disgusting desire. Looking at his filthy brother in front of him, all he could feel, suddenly, was an intense, sadistic, arousal. It wasn’t his, it didn’t feel like his, really–it was coming from Buzz. It was what Buzz wanted him to feel, and as hard as he tried to resist it…he could feel more coming, the darkness inside him, which had been growing stronger, ever since he’d cursed his family, was bubbling up. He could hear himself chanting the curse he had agreed on with Buzz…but was there something he could do to stop it? He fought, but there was nothing he could do–he could feel the curse forming on his lips, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
What is the curse he uses on his brother?
- An inanimate curse, he turns his brother into a half human, half inanimate, toilet.
- An animus curse, he turns his brother into a pigman.
- A demonic curse, he imbues his brother with a demon of sloth.
- An aging curse, he ages his brother into an old, filthy man.
Voting ends in a couple of days.
The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 7 (Part 4)
All my life, I have wanted to be the law. Before I knew what the law was. But this, this moment, was the first time I knew what I was, what I was here to do, and everything else was revealed for the farce that it was. A detective, someone tasked with uncovering the secret, the hidden–I had found the world behind the world, the self behind the self, and now I knew. I knew, and I could not unknow any of it. I am not the man I was. I was never truly a man. I was born as this, perhaps. Or maybe, as a babe, the law found me, hollowed out some of me, and lived there, waiting for a chance to arise again. But I was here now. My work on the beast, on the two men with him, it was rough. I did not yet have full mastery of myself, but to just know myself…I came. Over and over, the pleasure of it, thrumming through my flesh, through my skin, through my cock, feeling the law in them all vibrate with me, sensations I had never known. I came, yes, but it was not a human pleasure. It was raw, otherworldly. The three could feel it as well, but only a distant vibration of it, dampened by the world around them. But I felt it. I felt it, and I knew, I was no longer human. I was beyond human, beyond morals, beyond mortality. The veil had been pierced, at long last, at long last! All this will crumble now, all this will return to the dust it should have been.
You, reading this. Do you see? Do you see the world behind the world, does the ink I use crawl along the page? Did you know it is my own blood, bits of myself I have spread on the page? Perhaps it is dead, by the time it reaches you, perhaps you can only see ink, but it was alive. You are reading me, across the page before you, and if it is alive, perhaps it will take you, give you a glimmer of the world beyond. You will understand better, then. You will understand the sheer inferiority of what your kind has created, how thin the walls around your world have grown. I long for you, to pull you through it, to feed you…one day. Soon. Sooner than you can imagine.
We are nearly to the end now. I will have told you everything that needs to be said now, and I will seal this away for you to find and read. But not yet, not yet. I was finished with them, with the three of them. I unbound them, drew my flesh back to myself, and the three obese fellows could stand, blinking in the dark, naked, the law still churning in their guts, but settling. The large one, the one who had been the beast, tested lips and tongue, and spoke for the first time since the bruiser had unleashed it, I imagine. The words were slow and slurred, human speech partially forgotten or perhaps no longer most suited for its new mouth, and it thanked me. Thanked me for saving it, thanked me for giving it new purpose. Promised to serve me, promised me all of it–asked me what to do–and I told him that he already knew what I desired–to follow my law.
We managed to find clothes for them, though it was a struggle. One of the two security guards could remember how to drive, and where to find his car. The three of them piled inside, and I told them how to get to my home. It would be theirs, soon enough. I would have no need of a human life after this, no need of a house. There was too much work to do! Too much work for us both to do, now that we had found one another. The bruiser was close, close enough to sense what was happening, but not in the building. I don’t know why he didn’t come watch–perhaps he wanted to give me some privacy, or perhaps…he was afraid. He knew, I think, that when I emerged, that I was more than him. Closer to the beyond, than he ever had been. That in freeing me from my humanity, I would, in turn, free him from his own mortal cage–because caged he was.
That was his great weakness–his duality. It made sense now, now he had been described to me, back when I was still free. Whatever was inside him, whatever demon or force like me, instead of becoming contained, it had become a duality, an alter ego–and as an ego, it was constrained by the imagination of the world it existed in. It could draw from the beyond, but it would never be able to escape it–the men he freed were still caught within the rules of this reality–which is, I think, why Cumster was so important, why Cumster had been my gift.
Cumster was special. Cumster had been a turning point, the first creation of his that broke the veil, that could do…more. That could corrupt. The bruiser had always returned to him, studied him, and after Cumster, he too, had begun to change, and warp, and grow….but with out direction or purpose–without the law, that is–there was only so far he could go. I needed him, his influence, to free me from my prison, and now–now I could help him shed the vile human thing that had held him back so far, and together–well, together there was so much more that we could do. We could change everything. We will change everything! We’ll tear the veil down the center, and let everything in. Humanity will be ours, humanity will be gone.
By the time I was finished with the three, the bruiser had faded away, but I knew he wouldn’t go far. He knew I would find him, that our fates were tied now, and would be tied forever. He was going home–and I could feel someone with him, Ray most likely, who would be looking for Jules. It was time that I go home too. It was time that I open my gift, and it was time that I gave the bruiser a gift of my own.
Bracken's Corner 