I have seen you do a few inanimate transformations before, plan to do anymore in the future? and any favorite kind of inanimate to do to a guy?

For me, inanimate transformations in and of themselves are…well, I like them if they have a purpose behind them. There needs to be some further plot focused reason for why that character is becoming an object, or else all you’ve really done is cut off a whole lot of possibilities.

So honestly (and this is true for a lot of the stuff I write, as far as fetish content is concerned) I don’t decide to write an inanimate story–rather, if I have a story in mind, and an inanimate TF fits with the overall plot and theme of what I’m going for, then yeah, it’ll be in there. Otherwise, the TF tends to just completely kill the forward momentum, because the character no longer possesses any agency, pretty much by definition. 

That said, there are a few inanimate TFs I definitely enjoy. Toilets and urinals are right at the top of the list, especially if they retain a bit of their human form and biology as they shift. Pipes and cigar TFs are fun…but difficult to do well. Maelstrom was the king of these, but I’ve only ever attempted a few off and on, with varied success. Clothes are always fun, particularly underwear, but always feel a bit…overdone and obvious to me. Drones are great, though I don’t really know if that gets classed under inanimate necessarily.

The Familiar by wesleybracken

Hey all! 

As I mentioned before, I have quite a few larger works that I’ve been wanting to put out, but haven’t really found a platform that I preferred. However, Over the next few months, I’ve decided to start putting out some longer novellas and serial stories on itch.io! It’s a platform that mostly supports independent game developers, but allows creators to distribute pretty much anything they want, doesn’t charge fees for the service (instead, they rely on contributors giving them a percentage of their choice of what they make using the platform) and is, in my opinion, a better model for online distribution than something like amazon. 

This here is the first of several stories I’ll be posting. Some of them are largely finished (like this one here) and others are what I might call…in development. That is, large chunks of them are written, but they still have a ways to go. I’ll have more details about those sorts of projects when I post them–I should have one up in the next couple weeks or so.

This here is a commission I have been plugging away at for the larger part of a year, and I’m very happy with how it turned out. Because it was a commission (and essentially paid for by a very generous fellow) I’m going to offer it as a “name your price” download, though you can pitch in a donation if you choose. 

I wouldn’t say the story is…completely finished. It needs a deep edit, and I want to, at some point, write a couple alternate chapters, as well as an alternate ending (or two) at some point in the future. That said, it was fin to write, and contains a lot of…well, it has a wide variety of fetish stuff in it, but is largely focused on micro and shrinking. 

If you’re curious, here’s an excerpt! You can download it using the link above, or click here!

Excerpt from “The Familiar”

“Arthur, come inside,” Derrick said again, but this time there was something else attached to the words. The only word that came to his mind was…power, but when he heard them, he suddenly didn’t have control over his own body. He tried to back up, but instead he stepped up into the house, and Derrick closed the door behind him, and locked it.

Arthur looked down at himself, confused by his body’s sudden rebellion. “How did you do that?”

“You’re mine now, Arthur. You’re going to find it rather difficult to disobey a direct order of mine from now on.”

Arthur looked up at Derrick, terrified by what he’d just said, but his friend was just grinning, obviously self-satisfied, but not particularly malicious, and that…eased his concern slightly. “Excuse me?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I…No, hold up, you need to tell me, right now, what the fuck is going on here, because I have felt, all day, like I’m going crazy, and now I’m pretty sure I’ve gone insane. So…so please, what’s…happening to me?”

Derrick smiled, but didn’t say anything–just took a hand and placed it to Arthur’s bearded cheek, only for them both to feel a large static shock leap between them. “Hot damn!” Derrick cried, and unlike Mark…Arthur could see the spark running up Derrick’s arm and around his neck, down his other arm until it ended up in his hand, just hovering there as a tiny ball of light. Derrick shivered, and lifted it up to examine it like this was somehow expected, and gave a whistle. “That’s a bit more potent than I was expecting it to be. You’re going to be a pretty impressive conduit here soon.”

“What in the hell is that thing?”

“This,” Derrick said, holding the small light close to Arthur’s face, “Is magic. A rather crude, unfocused magic, but magic all the same. Your magic, I suppose I should say, since it came from you,” he waved his hand, and the little ball of light came apart into a few flickering motes of light, and dissipated. “Pretty powerful stuff, as I said. You must have had a bit of potential in you already.”

Arthur just backed up a step, and then went for the door, trying to get it unlocked so he could run away and never come back to this strange place again, but the deadbolt wouldn’t turn in his hand, “What’s up with this thing?”

“It’s enchanted. It only works when I turn it.”

Arthur kept trying for a moment, and then looked back at Derrick. “This…this is really happening, isn’t it?”

“It sure is little man,” Derrick said, “now come on. Let’s have some tea and talk for a little bit. But take off those clothes–you’re going to be naked in this house from now on, understand?”

Arthur tried to protest, but his hands were already stripping off his tie, his shirt, his pants and underwear–none of which fit him much at all any longer anyway, but he still felt…embarrassed to be completely naked beside the fully clothed Derrick. Humiliated and…small, and even a bit…inhuman. His cock started to get hard at the thought, much to his embarrassment, and he willed it back down before Derrick could notice, as he followed him into the living room and sat down on his sofa, waiting for Derrick to bring them tea. He came back with two cups, set one down in front of Arthur on the coffee table, and carried the other over to an armchair, where he settled down. Arthur stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but Derrick just smelled his tea, and took a sip. “I suppose,” he said at last, “I might as well start off by telling you that I’m a wizard.”

“A wizard.”

“Yes. I received my powers from…a mentor, about 200 years ago.”

“You’re 200 years old? Are you kidding me?”

“I was born in 1784, in Philadelphia. I met my mentor in 1802, and became his successor in 1815.”

“You can’t honestly expect me to believe that.”

Derrick shrugged. “It sounds impossible, I know. But you’re the little man shrinking as we speak, with magic sparks coming out of your hands, so you tell me something more plausible.”

Arthur blushed again, pushing away his arousal at being called a little man again. “Alright. So you’re a wizard, and what, you cast a spell on me?”

“Essentially. Less a spell, and more an…enchantment. It’s a blurry line really, it’s all just magic at the end of the day, regardless of what you call it.”

“So what? I just keep shrinking then? How small am I going to get exactly?”

“Honestly? I’m not entirely sure.”

“You’re not sure? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I mean, you could end up within a…range of sizes. I’d rather not spoil the surprise for either of us.”

This isn’t fucking funny, Derrick!” Arthur said, standing up from the couch, “This is my fucking life you’re fucking with! What fucking right do you fucking have, doing this to me? I was happy, you know? I mean, I had my fantasies, and that’s what they were–fantasies, and now you think you have permission to just fuck up my entire world, for fucking what? Because you think this is what I want? How am I supposed to go to work, if I’m a foot tall? How am I supposed to buy food? Is this just some fucking joke to you?”

“Arthur, sit down, and drink some tea.”

He sat, as much as he tried to stay standing, snatched up his mug from the table and took a sip. Whatever the brew was, it was…soothing, and he relaxed somewhat. “You could have at least asked me. Or warned me, or something.”

Derrick laughed, “If I’d told you, you would have never taken me seriously, you know that.”

“But–”

“Look, Arthur,” Derrick leaned forward, “I…like you. You’re young and a bit silly, but you’re charming, you listen, and you’re patient. But I also felt sorry for you. People…so many people wander the world, thinking they can never have what they want, and I wanted to give you this.”

“But what if…I don’t want this?”

“But you do want this.”

“Yeah, but–”

“Arthur, don’t fucking lie to me. I know you want this.”

The words had borne that same force, and when Arthur tried to retort again, his tongue locked up, unable to deny it a third time. “Alright. I do want this. I am…really turned on right now. I am also incredible terrified of you, and of all of this. I don’t know if I can trust you. I don’t understand how any of this is possible.” He was shaking, and took another sip of tea to settle his nerves back down. “I don’t understand why you want to be around me. I…really like you. I just…what if you don’t like me? What if I just disappoint you?”

“Come on over here, little man,” Derrick said, and patted his knee as he sat up. Arthur got up from the sofa, taking his tea with him and walked around the table, to sit down on Derrick’s knee. He was still a fairly normal height, but sitting there made him feel small anyway, and as he did, another spark leapt from his skin, running all over Derrick’s body. He watched it this time–and it looked like the spark was trying to get…inside him, but something kept rebuffing it. “Goodness, you are just full of energy, aren’t you?” He caught the spark in his hand again and held it, observing it.

“What…is that, exactly? Why does it keep coming out of me like that?”

“Well, the spell I cast on you was a bit more than just a shrinking spell, I should say. We wizards often use familiars in our work–animals we enchant and imbue with magical spells, power and intellect. Part of the spell I cast on you linked us together–me as master, you as a…kind of familiar. That’s why you have to obey my commands, and why you have this magic rubbing off of you. I’ll help you learn to control it in time, but for now, these are…pretty raw,” he looked closer, “and pretty sexy, actually. You must be horny.”

“What do you mean?”

Derrick laughed, “Wanna see for yourself?”

Before Arthur could ask him what he meant, a strange membrane of energy rose up from Derrick’s skin and surrounded the spark of energy Arthur had shot out, and then the entire thing began to drop down, touched to the palm of his hand and went…into him. Derrick gave a shiver, and groaned. “What…did you just do?”

“I let you do what you want to do to me,” Derrick said, smiling down at him, “It was your spell, after all.”

“I didn’t want–” Arthur started to say, but his tongue locked up, as he realized he’d been caught in a lie without even realizing it, making Derrick laugh. “What’s going to happen to you?”

“Woo, it’s starting to kick in a bit. Get up little man,” Derrick said, and Arthur slid off his knee and backed up, letting Derrick stand up tall and…taller than usual even. In fact, more than that was different–Derrick’s beard, which was usually fairly short, looked bushier than it had been, and his short hair was pulling back into his scalp. “Better get out of this shit,” he said, shucking his clothes off, revealing a body substantially more hairy than Arthur recalled it being, with a bit more grey than usual too. “Fuck little man, I hope you’re fucking ready for this, because I like where you’re going here,” he said, stroking his cock, getting it hard. It was already sizable, but now, along with the rest of him, it was even larger by three or four inches. “We’d better take this upstairs,” Derrick said with a bit of a snarl, grabbed Arthur and swung him into his arms, leaned in and kissed him, shoving his tongue into his mouth with a growl. The force of it–Derrick had never been rough like this before, but it was turning Arthur on in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

After some kissing and mutual lip biting, Derrick headed for the stairs of his house, easily taking them three at a time. Arthur looked down from where he was being held in his arms and felt a bit of vertigo–he seemed…higher off the ground than he should be. Derrick kicked open the bedroom door, ducked under the doorframe, went in and dropped Arthur onto the bed–he fell a couple of feet and bounced on the mattress, looking up at Derrick looming over him. “Uhh…Derrick, how…are you taller, or am I shorter?”

Derrick had to shake his head, his longer beard waving a bit as he did, to focus on something other than how much he wanted to plow Arthur’s hole. He looked at himself in the mirror on the wall–he had to be close to eight feet tall, judging by how close he was to the ten foot ceilings. He was thicker everywhere, hairier everywhere, and his entire brain seemed to be wired for sex. It was a good thing he’d sealed the spell in a barrier to make it easy to reverse, because if this had gotten into him as it was, it would have taken quite a bit more effort to get back. Still, that was for later–now was for fucking. He forced Arthur onto his belly, Arthur trying to object as Derrick ran his cock up and down his crack before forcing the thick head against his hole, and like rubber, it simply opened up to accept it. The sheer pleasure of the sensation caught Arthur by surprise, moaning and clutching the sheets, pushing back, eager to have more of the cock inside of him.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be able to take me no matter what fucking size you are, little man,” Derrick growled, pushing in deeper, “Comes with your new position in life.”

“Fuck, how…”

“Shut up, quit worrying, and fucking enjoy it. Don’t forget; this is what you fucking wanted, so I’m gonna fucking give it to you.”

Derrick plowed him deep for almost an entire hour. Arthur lost track of how many loads of cum shot out of his own cock, the sheets beneath him soaked with semen by the time Derrick started pumping faster, snorting and huffing and letting loose a huge load, flooding his ass with so much cum that it spewed back out as he continued fucking. It wasn’t too much longer before Derrick hauled himself out, panting for breath. “Fuck, I could fucking do that, fucking all over again.”

Arthur just moaned where he was on the bed–as exhausted as he was, the fuck had left him thrumming with excitement. He’d never just been…used like that before. Like a toy, or an object. He hadn’t really known how much he’d needed that in his life, until now. He rolled back over and looked at Derrick, who had kept growing for the first bit of their fuck. He was now close to nine feet tall, hulking with muscle, a thick gut covered with hair, a grey beard to his pecs and a completely bald scalp. “You’re one of the sexiest men I’ve ever fucking seen,” he muttered to himself.

“Be careful what you say, or you’re going to get me going all over again,” Derrick said, and slowed his breathing. He held out his hand and the sphere appeared again, light included, and with a wave from his fingers he made it vanish into the air. The changes began to revert soon after, Derrick slowly shrinking back down to his normal height, beard drawing back in as his hair grew back out. “I’m…sorry about that. If I’d know it was going to be that strong, I would have been a bit more careful.”

“Don’t apologize.” Arthur said. “I…liked it. A lot.”

The Familiar by wesleybracken

I haven’t got much of an inbox to answer at the moment, but figured I’d go ahead and answer any questions people might have, that or just get into some stupid argument with anon, which is always good for my time management, productivity, and blood pressure.

Also! There’s a big announcement coming in an hour or so! I’m pretty excited about it, and I hope ya’ll like it too. However, no interactive chunk today–it’ll go live tomorrow.

Muse of Fantasy II – Reconciliation (Part 7)

Oliver could see his eyes softening slightly, and with a gentle touch, he opened up Ed’s mind once again, but this time the image was…fuzzy, and indistinct. They were outside, and standing in something soft, but beyond that, Ed didn’t know quite where he was…but he also know that he was where he belonged.

“Yeah, you’re not a faggot, Ed. But you’re much too horny to not fuck anything, but women make your stomach turn. You don’t want to be anywhere near them, do you?”

Ed shook his head.

“Well, that doesn’t give you many options, does it? Still, you can think of something to fuck, can’t you? Out on the farm?”

Ed just blinked at him–it was clear that the rubber had…destroyed some of his more creative thought, which was fine, he supposed. He didn’t need to be a smart roughneck, after all. Still, why not just give him an illustration? The fantasy around them expanded, and brought in both Will, still on all fours on the bround–as well as the puddle of black cum still dribbling from his hole–but now, the puddle slowly began to squirm to life, and began coating the drone’s body. His legs were shortening, the foot melting and becoming stocky trotters, thighs thickening into a proper rump, and a curly rubber tail popped out above his ass.

“A…A fuckin’ pig?” Ed said.

“A fuckin’ pig exactly,” Oliver said. You’ve always liked animals, haven’t you? Not quite as much as you fantasize about faggots, but you loved fucking pigs, donkeys, dogs, bulls–anything you could get your hands on. It only made sense, right? You can’t fuck a faggot–but they’re basically animals anyway, and that marvelous cum of yours can make them into whatever beast you want them to be.”

The rubber was spreading up Will’s body now, and he was thickening and growing, his torso and chest rounding out into a proper pot belly. He felt…hollow, but the thing enjoyed the feeling–it meant Master would be able to fill it up with whatever he wanted to put inside of him. Swirls of color were forming on him now as well, the black now interspersed with tan spots, becoming a piebald pattern, though the skin was still perfectly shiny and smooth. The one thing that did not change, was his face–which, even though it was covered in rubber, it still seemed…human, to Ed. He couldn’t fuck the face, not if it looked like that, but that piggy hole–yeah, he was excited to fuck that some more. He lumbered over and slid his cock back into the pig’s hole, feeling the rubber beast shove back onto him, eager to please its master, eager to be filled with his rubber cum, storing it for later when the Master might need it.

Oliver admired the scene, and then felt another presence beside him, and he gasped when the slender hand grazed his chin. “Well done, my muse,” Amoredie said, “I like them very much–they will bring much pleasure to the world, I think.”

The blurry fantasy around them slowly began to solidify. The mud surrounding them became a pig pen, and beyond that, a rundown barn, stable, and farm house where Ed lived alone in the country–far enough from civilization to not draw too much attention, but close enough that whenever the need rose, it was just a couple miles to the highway rest areas, where Ed could fuck some pretty little faggot, pump them full of his rubber cum, and drag them back to the farm, to become the beast they deserved to be–just another member of his livestock harem that he cared for and fucked from dawn until dusk.

Ed looked back over his shoulder, pleading one last time for the life he and his husband had lost, but he found himself looking at the most glorious being he’d ever witnessed. He had no idea how to describe them, beyond every fantasy he’d ever had, brought to life, and before he even realized it, his old memories had vanished, leaving him just a simple brutish roughneck, and he turned back to his prize hog and kept on fucking it, rutting with it roughly until he unloaded another huge load of his special cum deep into it’s hollow guts, and then pulled free.

The sun was setting–and he was still plenty horny. Maybe it was time to go find a new faggot–he’d been itching for a big chubby cowboy to go with his bull back in the barn. Invisible to him, both Amoredie and Oliver watched him hop the fence surrounding the pig pen, and the pig settled down into the muck, satisfied for the moment. He got in the truck and headed off down the road towards the highway.

“Yes–this will be a bustling farm, in a few months,” Amoredie said with a giggle, “We’ll have to come back and visit then, I think.”

“A-Anything you want, of course,” Oliver muttered, “I’ll do anything for you–anything to just feel your touch, please, it’s been so long! Show me…let me please you, let me know I’m still worthy of you.”

“Hush now, my muse–you’ve earned my love,” they said, and pulled him to their breast, and he melted into the infinite possibility of existence, and knew nothing but pleasure, once more.

The Votes are In! (Part 8)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Muse of Fantasy II – Reconciliation (Part 6)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God of Fantasies II – Reconciliation (Part 5)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Winter Vacation [Interactive] (Part 8)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alright, what’s it going to be?

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

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