Caption: Trent’s New ID Badge

Trent stepped out of the elevator and into the basement of his building, still a bit confused by what was going on today. He’d tried to get through security, but it wasn’t the usual guys standing at the metal detector–instead, it was two massive, hulking meatheads–both of them easily six and a half feet tall, who had taken one look at his ID card, and told him he needed it to get updated before he could enter, and they directed him down here, to the basement.

He was frustrated–there was an 8:30 meeting he was about to be late for, and there was nothing wrong with his picture! Still, if he could do this quick, it would be fine. Sure enough, there was a security office down there, also staffed by a meathead, who waved him back–and there, he found a chubby fellow, wearing some dirty looking suit, waiting for him. “Ah, here for an updated ID?” the man said with a leer, “I’ll need you to hand over your old one first.”

Trent did so, and the man looked him up and down–and Trent could see him…groping himself like a pervert. He was disgusted, and tried to leave–but discovered he couldn’t move an inch.

“On your knees please–I’m going to need this photo to be very accurate, you see…” the man said.

Trent found himself forced down, and the man stood up, dropped his pants, and pulled out his cock, inches from Trent’s face. He could only register his horror for a moment, before the man, after a couple of pumps, sprayed his load all over Trent’s face and the top of his shirt. The man huffed for a moment, and then put his cock away. “There–you’ll be perfect now, I think–go stand against the wall so I can take your photo please.”

Trent got up, horrified, and stood where the man had said, smiled when he said to smile, and the flash…was so bright. He rubbed his eyes, a bit dazed, and licked his lips…and tasted cum. Unable to help himself, he started wiping it off and licking it off his fingers, moaning, his own cock hardening in the front of his pants.

The man laughed, watching Trent humiliate himself, and when Trent finally pulled his hands away, he saw the man had his ID ready–with his new picture.

Below it, for his job title, it just said “Office Cumdump, Floor 8.”

He screamed at the man then, told him off, and the man just laughed at him. “If you aren’t happy with that photo–I’m happy to take another one. Go back and stand on the X again please.”

Trent found himself unable to refuse–and after another flash, even brighter than the first, he got a new ID card–but this time, his face was different. He looked to be twenty years older, and fatter–with a thick double chin that even his beard couldn’t hide. In horror, he looked down at himself and saw he was, indeed, fatter, and older, and…hungrier.

“If you still aren’t happy with that–I can make an even better one,” the man said with a grin, “I could even change that title there too, if you feel like it.” Trent fled the office, ID in hand, the man laughing uproariously–but didn’t get very far–he saw the meathead in the office, and stopped to suck him off–and then sucked off the two muscleheads at the security station too. He was the office cumdump after all, and he had a new job to do.

Straight Town

Last Updated – 8/12/19. It’s finished! Thanks all for your patience with this one. New stuff will be coming tomorrow.

NOTE: Click the “Continue Reading” button below first, before using the links in the table of contents, or else most won’t work!

Table of Contents

Arc One: Kevin and Steve
Supplemental Writings

Continue reading “Straight Town”

Patreon Bonus: Father’s Day Tales

There’s a new set of short stories over on my Patreon page for supporters! If you’re already supporting me, you can go find all three of them here, and if you’d like to know more about what supporting me can get you, then you can take a look at my Patreon page! As a teaser, here’s the first story of three.

A Pipe for Daddy

“It was a deal actually, if you buy them new, it usually costs a hundred or two hundred bucks.”

“Would he want one that somebody else has smoked out of? That seems weird to me.”

Parker shrugged. “I don’t think he’ll mind, honestly. If anything, it’s a bit easier, because you have to put a lot of work into a new pipe, making sure you smoke it right the first few times, or something like that. A used one is easier, assuming it’s in good condition.”

His roommate, Robert, just looked suspicious, as usual. Pipe smoking was sort of a dying trend, Parker supposed–he only knew so much about it because his father, now widowed, smoked them all the time, and was always looking for new ones to add to his collection. Parker smoked them on occasion as well, but not with the same regularity–it was a bond they shared though, and Parker was thankful for it. He might give this one a test drive later, when Roger left for his usual date on Saturday night with some of the other guys. 

Roger did think it was weird–smoking a pipe was for crotchety old men, right? Still, if that was the strangest thing about his roommate, then that wasn’t really much to complain about. As planned, Roger took off for the evening not long after that, and Parker settled out on the balcony of their apartment–where he could smoke according to the lease–packed the pipe with his usual blend, lit it, took a draw–and coughed. The tobacco didn’t taste right in it–not like the cheap blend he usually bought. Something richer, deeper, smoother. Parker took another draw, pulling the smoke deeper than he usually did, feeling the heat suffuse him, the smoke filled up crevices in him he hadn’t known existed. He didn’t cough once, just sighed out a huge plume and sat back, content with his pipe. Yes–his pipe. He couldn’t bear the thought of giving this one away, his…favorite pipe. No–why had he even entertained the idea? He kept smoking, his head growing foggy, floating, feeling the smoke slide deeper into him…but there was nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with anything.

He stretched out, unaware that his bones were snapping and growing longer and thicker, his body inflating with muscle and fat. The hair on his head began to recede, as a thick beard grew in across his face. There was a surge of horniness that made his cock spring to life–but he did have an inkling of modesty still. He…shouldn’t smoke in the apartment, but what did he care, really? He lumbered in, pulling off his too tight clothes as he did, and gripped his rock hard, eight inch cock, thinking about…about girls? No–not…not girls. His…his boy. Yeah, his son, where was the fucker? He’d gone out–fuck! He was just going to have to nurse this for a few hours until he got back–and then that fucker was going to get it.

Roger returned later that evening, frustrated and horny. He’d hit on a few girls, but none of them had been interested, which meant it was just going to be him and his hand tonight. Roger was strikingly handsome, but tended to be a bit crude and unruly–especially towards women–and so didn’t have much luck in that arena. He opened the door to the apartment, and immediately coughed, the thick smoke inside stinging his eyes and throat. Why was there so much of it? Parker only ever smoked on the balcony, but if the scent hadn’t been the sweet scent of Daddy’s pipe smoke, he would have thought something was on fire.

Wait, Daddy’s pipe smoke? Why had he thought that? He breathed the smoke in more, unaware that his breathing was calming down, his body relaxing.

“That you boy?” a voice called out from deeper in the apartment, “About fucking time you got home–thought I was gonna have to stay up smoking half the night.”

In the doorway to the kitchen a man appeared, smoking the pipe Parker had purchased earlier, but the man was not Parker. He was massive, easily six foot six, close to 275 or even 300 pounds and full of muscle, body covered in hair, with…with a huge cock erect, and pointing right at Roger–who couldn’t tear his eyes off his daddy’s cock. 

He fought as best he could, but Daddy bent him over the kitchen table, tore down his jeans, and forced his way inside him–fucking his boy rough, just how he liked it. How they both liked it. The smoke was making it hard to think, hard to think about anything other than how horny he was for his daddy, forgetting all about those women from earlier. The only man he wanted was daddy, after all. 

The next day–Father’s day–Roger and his father, Parker, loaded themselves up into the truck together and drove across town to visit Parker’s brother–a fellow pipe smoker. He didn’t have any kids of his own, and usually got lonely–but thankfully, Roger loves his uncle’s cock as much as his daddies–or at least he would soon enough. He was surprised, at first, when the strange, massive man appeared on his doorstep with a young man, saying he was his brother, and this was his nephew–but as soon as he caught the first whiff of Parker’s smoke from the pipe, he started to…remember a bit better. Inside, the rooms full of smoke, he remembered better and better, until he was balls deep in his nephew’s hole, inhaling smoke from his brother’s mouth–it was the best father’s day the new family had had in ages.

Caption: I Only Fuck Dads

It was just supposed to be some harmless roleplay, or so Henry thought. The young guy was one of the hottest fuckers he’d seen in a while, and one who was available for a fuck, but when he’d looked at Henry’s page, he’d almost turned him down, telling him he was more into dads–whatever that meant. Still, he’d been open to playing, but told Henry that they’d probably have to roleplay a bit, to get him into the mood. If that meant the guy called him daddy, while Henry fucked him, then he could get behind that, he supposed–he’d been with stranger guys than that. But things…well, this is not what he’d expected, at all.

“Come on daddy, what do you want–tell me what you want!”

“I want you fuck my ass already, boy, fuck it hard–do whatever the fuck you want, just fucking change me the fuck back!” Henry felt himself say, horrified, but he couldn’t moderate the words coming out of his mouth–just like he hadn’t been able to stop the young man from…changing him. He was up on the bed on all fours, and this body–he was fat! He was fat, and hairy, and his hairline was receding, and…and the young fellow was just circling him, thinking about him, and Henry didn’t know why he didn’t just fuck him already!

“Hmm…just not quite…what I’m feeling like today. I think I know what would be hot though…tell me daddy, tell me again what you want.”

“Aww jeepers boy, I sure would like it if you would just put your big tool up in daddy’s hole back there ya know?”

That wasn’t his voice–what the fuck had happened to his voice? It was…nasally, and sounded like he was from the midwest.

“Fuck yeah–that’s better, getting me hard daddy, listening to you ask me all polite like that. That how you talk to your wife daddy? When you want to have sex with her?”

He didn’t have a wife–but…but there were these new memories, of a woman. His age–his new age, and he could…remember everything about her, fuck!

“I wonder what she would say, if she knew her polite, buttoned down, conservative husband never went bowling on Thursdays like he says, but he comes here to get fucked by my hot young cock–because that’s what he really wants. Hell, I bet you two don’t even fuck much, not with that puny thing of yours.”

“Aww no, don’t go and shrink my ding-a-ling too!” Henry said, but it was too late–his eight inch cock shrank down to three inches, buried up in his fat.

“Well, it works well enough to give you a few kids, right? You can’t be a daddy without a few boys running around, right? How old are they?”

“They’re…they’re uh, twelve, fourteen, and seventeen…oh my goodness gracious how do I even know that?”

“Oh, that’s too young…” the man said, and Henry felt his body changing again, adding another decade of life, more hair falling out and turning grey, glasses appearing on his face as his eyesight gets worse, his cock shrivelling up further, no longer able to get hard. “Yeah, your boys are 22, 24, and 27–I bet they’re handsome fuckers, aren’t they? I bet you think about them a lot, about how much you want your boys to fuck you like I fuck you.”

“Oh please boy, please put that horn stick in mah hole, you’re gettin me all riled up, ya know, talking about my boys like that…”

The man fucked him then–fucked him hard, just how Henry liked it, and he fantasized that it was his oldest son, working construction right now, that was fucking his own father, and when the boy was finished, he was a sweaty, heaving mess.

“Alright boy, you had your fun, now change me back, alright?” Henry said.

“And lose my favorite Thursday night hookup? No way! Now go on and get dressed daddy–you should get home before your wife starts to worry about you any more than she already does.”

His old life fading in his mind to a faint shadow, Henry put on his bowling shirt and slacks, and headed down to his sedan, his bowling ball, unused in years now, sitting in the passenger seat beside him. He looked at himself in the mirror, at his jowls, his glasses, his grey mustache…all the lies he’d told over the years to keep his marriage together. What other choice did he have? At least…he had this, once a week. Maybe that would be enough–or maybe the boy up there was only getting started on his new project.

Interactive: Hypno Time! (Part 3)

The results from that last poll were both…conclusive, and also inconclusive. the top picks were fairly obvious, but some of the more…flavorful options were more hotly contested. The next poll will be have some more precise options after this one, that might seem a bit familiar, and that’s why!

Again, like always, it seemed like no time passed from the time Johnny fired the gun and put him into trance, and when he woke up. It was disconcerting, that in one moment he was standing by the door, the windows dark, all of the lights in the apartment on–and in the next moment, he was sitting on the couch, morning sunlight streaming in, and while his mind caught up to the sudden dilation, it was clear, from the soreness of his muscles, that he’d been put through a bit of a wringer over the course of the weekend. But unlike the first time, apparently Johnny wanted him to know what he’d been doing to him, because he was struck by…something else. As his mind caught up, it was like all the memories from the weekend struck him, like a videotape fast forwarding through a movie, and he saw exactly what–and who–he had been doing all weekend long.

Johnny hadn’t told him who he’d be servicing on Friday night, when he put him under, but now, he could remember who was at the door when he answered it, right after being put into his trance. Two older men, hairy as hell, and both of them quite chubby, entered the apartment, looking at him with a bit of suspicion, but a few orders from Johnny put them both at ease, as Max helped them all get comfortable, took off their clothes, massaged their feet…

Max had never been attracted to bigger guys in his entire life. Johnny knew this, of course, knew that Max took tremendous pride in his physique, and went to the gym five days a week. So remembering now how he threw himself at these fat men, how he worshipped him, how they all humiliated him, and degraded him, how they sat on him and made him squirm for breath–it was so much to remember, so much to think about, and he felt a bit…nauseous. The weekend went faster, from the men getting comfortable with him over Friday night, and they stayed with them all weekend, Max waiting on all three of them all weekend long–cooking for them, feeding them, doing everything they asked not because he…wanted to, but because…because they deserved it, didn’t they? Didn’t such handsome men require such care and devotion? Everything was feeling so confused now. They’d left on Sunday night, hadn’t they? But then who was the fat fuck he’d spent last night with, unless…

He shook his head and shuddered, looked over, and there…there was Johnny. Not the Johnny who had shot the ray at him on Friday night–like before, over the course of the weekend, he had…changed. Before this, Johnny had been about as slim and muscular as Max himself, but now…well, now he was quite pudgy, easily 250 pounds if not a bit more. There was something else off about him, standing there smoking his cigarette as he did now–as they both did. He looked…off, his hairline a bit different, some wrinkles around his eyes…was he older?

Not as old as the two men who had stayed with them this weekend–they were easily in their fifties, but Johnny had been a few months younger than Max, and now he looked older, by months, if not a couple of years. “Well come on then, muscle boy–isn’t there something you’d like to do?” Johnny asked, sneering at him.

There…there was. Max got up from the couch, went over, and started kneading Johnny’s small gut, feeling his own cock stiffen, realizing how sexy he was to him, looking like this, how much better he looked now than he had before.

“Yeah, made a proper chaser out of you now–No more complaining about my weight from now on. I think you’d like to see me get a bit bigger, won’t you? More like Dick and Charley from this weekend?”

Max moaned, dropped to his knees, and started sucking on Johnny’s cock, feeling his gut press against his forehead when he went deep. Max shot quick, and then pulled out.

“Alright, enough of that for now, I have to get to work.”

“W-Work?” Max asked, a bit confused–weren’t they both in college?

“Yeah, fucking work–you get so dumb when you come out of trance, it’s kind of hot,” Johnny said. “Not all of us can be a college muscle boy like you. Now, you’ll have a nice big dinner ready for me tonight, won’t you boy?” Johnny said to him, “You do love watching daddy eat, after all.”

Max didn’t really know what to say, as Johnny laughed, grabbed his bag, and left for his job, leaving Max alone in the apartment. Horrified, trying to avoid processing what had happened over the weekend, he went to the gym to burn off some steam, but that, in its own way, made things worse. All of the men he usually enjoyed looking repulsed him now. To his new desires, even Johnny was a bit small for him…and a bit too young. He looked at himself in the mirror, and the usual delight in his physique wasn’t there either. He just felt…ugly now, even though he knew he shouldn’t feel that way at all! Johnny…was it him, or was the gun fucking with both of them?

From that weekend on, Max was in a trance from Friday until Monday, and Johnny would entertain men at their place for the weekend. Sometimes it was the same men, but usually it was different ones, all of them fat, and old–and each weekend that passed, Johnny also got older, and fatter, until he was cresting 325, and his driver’s license said that he was 46. Only Max seemed to have any memory of the way they had been before this, and he didn’t dare say anything, or risk upsetting his daddy. It was clear, however, that Johnny was becoming a bit restless, and the men who came over were becoming…odder, until a long holiday weekend came along, and Johnny told Max he had something special planned for them.

Alright, hopefully the embedded poll below is visible, unlike last week! I tested it, but if you have problems, let me know on twitter or tumblr or discord etc. Here’s the link to the bonus patron poll as well! You get two choices in each poll, so pick your top two!

Caption: Bodysitting for my Great Uncle

My great uncle is…well, he’s an eccentric, you might say. He likes to call himself an inventor, and judging by the massive house where he lives, and all the gadgets he has, I suppose it wouldn’t be too far off. He also never married, devoting all of his time to his work–whatever it is that he does. I was home from college, and he offered me a chance to keep an eye on his house while he was on vacation–but when I got there, he revealed that he had a more…peculiar offer in mind.

He wanted to switch bodies with me, for the length of his vacation! It sounded ridiculous and impossible, but he…did it, and changed us back right away, but fuck, it was trippy. He offered me…more money than I’d ever thought I could have in exchange for borrowing my body for a couple of weeks. I said yes, because why the fuck wouldn’t you? Besides, this house is a palace. I wish I could live here all the time, the place is amazing. I think I’ll go lounge around and watch TV, eat some junk–after all, his body is already going to shit, what does it matter really what I do to it?

It’s towards the end of the first week…and I think something weird is going on. I…I’m having a hard time focusing on things in the house, and it feels like I’m sleeping a lot. More than I should be, I guess. My great uncle told me that I might feel a bit weird, being in his body for so long–and he does feel old. His body aches like hell, even just sitting on the couch…but I feel like I lose hours in front of the TV, and I can’t even remember what I was watching. The one part of me that’s working just fine is my cock–I mean, my uncle’s cock. I’m jacking off all the damn time, it seems like, and I don’t know why I’m so damn horny.

Fuck, that was a sexy fucking video, love watching that old fuck get plowed by both of those boys at once. Makes me so fucking horny, I could blow all over again, just thinking about it. Can’t believe all of this nasty fucking porn my grandson has at his place, all of these old men getting fucked by boys like him, I wonder…wait, that’s…not right, I keep thinking that, but he’s in my body, right?

Fuck, where’d that dildo go? I…never knew how good it could feel, getting fucked, until I got drunk that night, I think, and woke up with that thing inside me, but maybe it’s just this hole that does it. Makes my old cock so damn hard, starts me leaking like nothing else. I mean, nothing besides my grandson’s hot fucking cock. He gets home in a few days, and fuck, I hope he plows my old hole into the fucking ground.

“Yeah, you like that cock in your ass, don’t you you old nasty pervert?”

“Oh fuck boy, fuck! Yeah, fuck your granddaddy with that big cock of yours.”

“Yeah, it is my cock, isn’t it? Sure seems like I know how to use it better than you ever did, isn’t that right?”

“Whatever you say boy, just don’t stop…You’re making my old sloppy hole tingle…”

“Yeah, feels real nice–you like being an old pervert, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck, more than anything.”

“Tell me–it we could, say, swap bodies, would you even want to? Be young and hot again?”

“And never get fucked by my grandson’s cock again? Hell no! Now shut up and fuck me boy, you keep slowing down when you talk.”

Interactive: Porno Virus (Part 8)

Harrison Drake–Harry to his friends, and son of Theodore–was down in the den of the house, watching TV on that Saturday afternoon. His father had left for his golf game a few hours before, and his mother was out running errands, leaving him alone in the house, which he honestly preferred. Harry was a couple of years out of college now, and had imagined himself pretty much anywhere else beyond living with his parents at the age of 25. But while he’d landed a few unpaid internships, and the occasional side job, he hadn’t found anything that made him enough money to move out on his own, much less feel like he was going anywhere with his life. He just felt aimless–and his father and mother nagging him constantly didn’t help matters at all. He wanted change–but probably not the kind that the virus had in store for him.

Theodore had well-adopted the so called “internet of things” into his home. Everything from his lights, to his windows, to his door locks, to his speakers and TV were all hooked up to the wifi, and so, the virus had access to everything inside the house–and through it, Terrance was observing the lone Harry on the couch, snacking and staring at the TV, and considering what to do with him.

He was not an ideal subject for the virus. While he was infected, Terrance did not find much in his sexual proclivities that would allow the virus to take hold. Similar to his father, Harry had always been a bit of a prude, and didn’t look at much porn, even as a young man–but while Steve’s proclivities had accelerated and warped Theodore’s corruption, Terrance was going to have to start from scratch with Harry. If the virus was going to corrupt him and turn him into a proper carrier, he was going to have to change substantially.

Harry saw the screen of the show he was watching flicker once, and then the entire screen began to waver and shake. He reached for the remote, or at least he tried to reach for it, but discovered that his body was…frozen, or paralyzed. He couldn’t move a muscle, the virus had taken control of his motor functions, ensuring that it had all of his attention focused on the screen, as his show disappeared, and was replaced with pornography–gay pornography.

Harry was appalled at the sight of it. He’d always had a thing against faggots, thinking that they were all dirty, horny old perverted men looking to prey on younger men like him. The virus captured that idea from him, and the porn shifted, showing just that sort of filthy scenario on the screen, and the speakers around the room began to speak to him, telling him what a dirty old man he was, how much he loved looking at porn, the stranger and more obscene the better.

Harry resisted as long as he could, but the virus was stronger. His hand was no longer reaching for the remote, it was now wrapped around his cock, stroking it. He could hear himself moaning in pleasure and excitement, and as the minutes turned into hours, his moans got lower and lower as his voice dropped into a growl, the virus accelerating the aging process inside his body, advancing Harry into a middle aged man around the age of fifty. His mind was warped further and further, all the desire to be a normal, well adjusted, contributing member of society was replaced by new desires–to jack off and have sex of course, but first and foremost, to corrupt the handsome young men he encountered, and warp them into perverse, kinky sex addicts that were hungry for sex with a dirty faggot daddy like him.

When Terrance was finally happy with the result, the virus allowed Harry to cum, a massive load spurting from his achingly hard cock, arcing up onto his chubby belly, where his old hand rubbed it into his hairy gut, enjoying the sticky sensation, the stench of it, and he stood up from the couch and had a short stretch, looking at himself in the mirror. A little voice in the back of his mind told him that this wasn’t right, that he wasn’t supposed to look like this, with his grey beard, and sunken eyes, and shaggy receding hairline. But that wasn’t an important voice, it wasn’t the voice that mattered–there was a new voice, a horny voice, and it didn’t want porn today–it wanted something more…satisfying. Thankfully, the virus saw an opportunity, and gave it to him.

Here’s a few options for what Harry does next. Regardless of what path we decide to go down, I’ll try to work in as many of the kinks as people were interested in as I can! The bonus poll for patrons is over here as well.