Spook Mart (Part 5)

I tabulated the results, and I’m going to use the top six pranks to create three short vignettes from the party–hope you enjoy them over the next few days!


The guys in the house could just be a bit much sometimes. Sure, the partying was great, usually, but Blake could only take it so long before he needed a second on his own. He stepped out of the house and onto the back porch of the frat house, and shivered a bit. His costume, a gladiator, wasn’t exactly layered or well insulated, and he wouldn’t be able to stand the cold fall evening for too long, but that was alright, he just needed a breather.

But on the table out there, he spotted something odd–a package of cigars sitting beside the ashtray the bros usually used when they were smoking, but to Blake’s knowledge, none of them had ever smoked cigars–well, no one other than him. His dad smoked them, and he’d taught Blake how to do so after his high school graduation as a rite of passage, and he’s smoked them with his dad and uncles during summers past–but in all honesty, he could use one. They always gave him a bit of a boost, and he could smoke one for a bit before going back to the party.

He unwrapped one, bit off the cap since he didn’t have much of a choice, and used the matches there to light it. It was…stronger than the ones his dad smoked, and he coughed a bit after getting it burning–but it was good. It was exactly what he needed, in fact. He took a seat at the table and took a deeper draw–he usually only boy scouted it and never inhaled, but this time…it felt right. He pulled the smoke down into his lungs, feeling warmth spread through him, and sighed, smoke curling out of his nose and down his front, not noticing the facial hair beginning to fill in around his lips and mouth where the cigar smoke landed.

He lost track of time, he was enjoying his smoke so much–that, and he was feeling pretty horny, but not for pussy, like he usually felt. No, he wanted…something else, but couldn’t quite put his finger down on it, at least until Garth came out onto the porch looking for him. But the man in the gladiator costume wasn’t Blake–or at least, not the Blake he remembered. No, he was a stranger now, with a thick, salt and pepper beard, a hefty gut covered in fur, balding severly, and eyeing Garth hungrily while he groped his own cock openly. That, Blake thought, was a handsome looking boy–that’s what he was craving, what he wanted was to fuck a boy. Was to fuck his boy.

He told the boy to come over and help his daddy out, but Garth was having none of that, and he retreated back into the house. Blake, with a growl, heaved his much heavier frame up and followed after him, somehow knowing that if he could feed the boy a few lungfuls of daddy smoke, he’d be…his, for good. Garth ended up retreating upstairs, and Blake followed after him–in Garth’s room, they struggled a bit, Garth slowly succumbing to the daddy’s smoke–at least until he jostled his dressed where one of the nerds had stashed a baby bomb. It fell off and exploded, consuming them both in the cloud of choking baby powder, and as they tried to wave it away, they both became a bit woozy, and couldn’t quite remain standing the way they had been.

When the dust cleared, neither of them was wearing the costumes they’d had on–instead, all the two of them were wearing were big, fluffy diapers around their waists. As much as they tried, neither of them could seem to get the diaper off–they were just too weak all of a sudden. Garth felt a sudden pressure in his peepee, and before he could do anything about it, he flooded his diaper with a massive load of piss, and it felt…good. So good, he didn’t think twice about filling the back with a load of shit as well. He sat down in it, feeling it squish around, stuck his thumb in his mouth and rubbed his hard peepee through the front of the diaper, knowing he was being a good little boy.

Blake resisted a bit longer, tried to talk Garth into his senses, but his words just wouldn’t come out right. Everything was garbled together, and he couldn’t form sentences more than a few words long. Then, he too pissed in his diaper, and let out a laugh, and in a few more minutes, they were both reduced to dumb babies with full diapers, rubbing each other’s peepees through their diapers, wondering where their daddy might have gone to.

In the end, after filling their diapers with a load of cum each, they crawled off to search for one–and for some milk. Babies needed milk to grow, after all, and the best milk came from…men. From cocks. They did find one after a while, pinning a frat boy down and sucking him off, the risidual powder from the babies warping his mind, convincing him that he was the daddy of them both–and after sucking down one the rest of baby daddy’s cigar, he looked like one too.

ChatChange – Jock Slave (Flash Commission)

Thank you for using ChatRandom! You’re now being paired with a new chatter…..Partner found, welcome DirtyTubbs56!

DirtyTubbs56: Hey bud, how’s it hangin?

CollegeJock97: Fuck, put a fucking shirt on, would you? No one wants to see that.

DirtyTubbs056: Heh, how about this? Wanna see my big ol’ cock boy?

CollegeJock97: What the fuck, why won’t it let me close the window?

DirtyTubbs56: Sounds like someone didn’t pay for the premium membership. Guess you’re stuck with me for a little bit. Come on, whip out yer cock too–helps the time pass by real easy.

CollegeJock97: I’m not showing your my cock you fat, dirty faggot.

DirtyTubbs56: You know, I wasn’t too different from you when I was younger. You should watch what you say boy.

[Premium user DirtyTubbs56 has activated ChatChange]

CollegeJock97: What the fuck is chatchange?

DirtyTubbs56: You’ll see boy, now hold on a second.

[Change applied]

GrungeJock97: Oww! How the fuck–it fucking shocked me!

GrungeJock97: And why…what the fuck happened to my screenname? B?

DirtyTubbs56: Well I gotta say, it looks accurate–how old is that jock you have on boy?

GrungeJock97: Fuck, this…this thing? I’ve been wearing it all year so far

GrungeJock97: Why did I write that? I mean I have but I wasn’t wearing it, and my room, fuck it reeks so fucking good in here all of a sudden, makes me so damn horny.

DirtyTubbs56: Well then whip it out boy, let’s see what you got.

GrungeJock97: Fuck, you fucking did this to me, what the fuck did you do? Change me back, you fucking sicko.

DirtyTubbs56: Fuck boy, been wearing these whities of mine for months–bet you’d love to give them a sniff, wouldn’t you? Look at the color on ‘em–ain’t they pretty. Hold on, gotta get up here for a sec, show ya the shit streak down the back.

DirtyTubbs56: Eh? What did you think of those? Damn, did checking out my dirty undies just make you leak all that? Now who’s the sicko around here?

GrungeJock97: I can’t fucking help it!

DirtyTubbs56: Fuck, reminds me of when I was younger, sneaking underwear from the locker room, especially the coach’s, if I could manage. You like older guys, don’t you boy? Fat old pigs like me?

GrungeJock97: Fuck no, you…no, I won’t do this, I fucking won’t.

DirtyTubbs56: Well it wasn’t really a question anyway, no worries

[Change Applied]

Jock4DirtyOldMen: Fuck, that fucking hurt! Fucking stop it! What did you fucking do this time, daddy?

Jock4DirtyOldMen:Why the fuck did I type that? You’re fucking with my head, aren’t you daddy?

DirtyTubbs56: Just made you a little more appreciative is all. You should be thankful, shouldn’t you? That I’m turning you into a whore for dirty old men like me? Come on, tell me what you’d do to me, if I was in that dirty room of yours.

Jock4DirtyOldMen: Fuck, I don’t wanna say daddy, don’t make me do this, please sir.

DirtyTubbs56: Tell me boy, that’s an order.

Jock4DirtyOldMen: Fuck–fuck, I’d…I’d sniff your pits, and clean your whole stinking body sir. Suck your cock, and eat out your ass if you wanted, I’d…fuck, feeling you on top of me, fucking my dirty hole makes me so hard just thinking about it

DirtyTubbs56: How about my feet boy?

Jock4DirtyOldMen: I fucking love dirty feet sir, I’d lick them clean–the…the stink of ‘em makes me cum harder than anything.

DirtyTubbs56: That’s a much better attitude boy–but I think we should punish you for some of your rudeness earlier, don’t you think?

Jock4DirtyOldMen: No sir, please, I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want, you don’t have to change me anymore, please

DirtyTubbs56: No–see, I think you’re still a bit too proud of yourself. Your youth, your body. But living like this, well, it won’t last for long, trust me. All those hours spent alone in your room, masturbating to your own heady stench–it doesn’t leave much time for working out, does it? But you can’t stop–and the more you lose, the more you want it back.

[Change applied]

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: Fuck, that…fuck, what the fuck, I think I’m going to be sick…

DirtyTubbs56: Just accept it, just let it wash over you. You’ll feel so much better soon, trust me, you don’t know it yet, but you’re going to love this. I thought the same thing, but this is so much better than you know.

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: I’m, fuck, I’m old, and I’m so fucking fat! Change me back you fucker! You can’t fucking do this to me, you fucking can’t do this, I was

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: Fuck, why the fuck can’t I remember? I…I remember getting in the locker room, yesterday, but I wasn’t playing, I…fuck, that’s right, I took a fucking haul, five rank jocks from the locker room. I…know the janitor, and he’ll give me fifteen minutes to raid the place if I blow him, and it’s fucking worth it every time. Can’t do it too often though, but fuck, you should fucking smell these things.

DirtyTubbs56: Fuck man, they look so filthy, I can almost smell them through the screen!

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: Fuck yeah, I watch them at practice too, usually, wearing my favorite ones, even a jersey or two, while I’m under the bleachers, jacking off. Just fucking wish I could get close to them, you know? Really show those young studs what an old pig like me has to offer.

DirtyTubbs56: I bet you’d do anything for a stud like that.

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: You fucking know it! I…fuck, I know you fucking did this to me, but everything feels so fucking…far away now. And fuck if I don’t fucking love this.

DirtyTubbs56: Tell me what you want, pig–if you really want to go back, I could be persuaded if you ask really nicely–though I might need a favor in return.

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: Fuck, all I really want is all those fucking jocks around me, fucking me, pissing on me, using me as their fucking pig slut, fuck now that would be the fucking life!

DirtyTubbs56: Well I can arrange that too, you know.

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: Wait, I didn’t mean it, not really, I was just fantasizing!

DirtyTubbs56: You sounded pretty serious to me.

DirtyOldMan4Jocks: Fuck you, fucking change me back, I’ll do anything you want, I’ll find you and blow you, please

DirtyTubbs56: Nah, I like your idea better.

[change applied]

FilthySlavePig4Jocks: Fuck, what’s happening, why

DirtyTubbs56: Huh, he vanished–must not be living in that room anymore.

[Find user – FilthySlavePig4Jocks]

[User found. Local internet device found–connect user to device? Y/N]

[Y]

[Connection reestablished]

DirtyTubbs56: There you are–fuck, look at you, looks like those jocks sure did a number on you.

FilthySlavePig4Jocks: I…I can’t be in here, this is Master Coach’s office if anyone finds me I’ll get punished so bad

DirtyTubbs56: No worries, I won’t keep you for long, I just wanted to see what those jocks did to you–and fuck, what the hell didn’t they do. Is that the mascot?

FilthySlavePig4Jocks: I’m property of the team, they tattooed me to show it. Keep me shaved all the time, lock up my cock where it belongs The team uses me whenever they need to, and…and I love it. Thank you, thank you for doing this to me, I didn’t know I needed this so badly, and I know it doesn’t make sense, but I’m so happy–this was where I always belonged I just didn’t know it.

FilthySlavePig4Jocks: I have to get back in my pen though, if anyone finds me they’ll put me in the box and I hate the box.

DirtyTubbs56: Alright pig–get back in your pen–and you’re welcome.

[End Connection]

[Find new User? Y/N]

[Y]

The Fetish Gun is Loose! (Part 9)

And we’re back! There will still probably be a few days this week without new updates, but hopefully it should be back to normal(ish) by next week. Bear with the upheaval–besides, it’s my birthday on Friday! You all have to cut me some slack, so there.


Rick gave a groan, and sat up in the booth where he’d been thrown by the gun, when it had gone shorted out. When he realized where he was, and who he was, he made a quick check of himself to see if anything about himself had changed when the gun had struck him–and to his surprise, he was still the same tall, thick leather clad biker bruiser he’d been after his tussle with Parker a few minutes ago, or at least, what he assumed had been a few minutes ago. He had no idea how long he’d been out, in all honesty.

The gun wasn’t where it had fallen, and he got up to look for it–but when he did, he heard a rather unsettling moan coming from under him, and his foot sank into something…squishy, and fleshy. He tumbled back down in alarm, and saw that both of his boots–were not quite boots any longer. They were still black, mostly, but the rim of the top of each of them were shaped like lips, and he could feel them sucking on his feet gently. The tongues of the boots were becoming more active and shrinking, becoming red instead of black, as fledgling limbs began to sprout on the sides and out the toe of the boot. The leather faded into flesh–though it remained quite leathery–he reached down and stroked one gently, and felt Anthony–he thought–shudder at his touch, and suck a bit harder, trying to stay on his foot even as his body was beginning to reform into a proper sort of form.

The foot of each boot began to grow, becoming a proper body–small at first, but becoming larger with each passing second. He could still feel his feet filling each man’s mouth, and down a bit of their throat, though it was becoming tighter and tighter. The men tried their best to keep his feet slammed in deep, but it proved hopeless as their human anatomy regained prominence. They each had to release the foot eventually, though their oversized tongues kept slathering Rick’s feet as hungrily as they had before.

As they grew larger, Rick noticed something else–that he couldn’t quite tell who was who. When he’d fired the gun at Anthony, by accident, he had been his father–wearing his soggy diaper, covered in shit from Parker’s eager fisting of Anthony’s hole, before he’d tried to grab the gun. But when he’d shot Parker, he’d been…normal, mostly. Now however, he was looking down at two versions of his dad–they looked…identical. Two massively fat old pigs, both of them eagerly sucking and feasting on his filthy feet.

As they both changed back, new memories were filling in his mind–and it wasn’t his father and a stranger sucking on his cock, but rather his uncle and father, twin brothers/, and both of them hungry for Rick’s filthy body more than anything else. They were mostly changed at this point, and Anthony noticed something else, that each of the brothers was actually a mirror image of the other–just like his boots of course.

After another few minutes, they were both back to their (new) old selves, their prior lives forgotten for the most part. Rick allowed the two of them to keep servicing his feet for a couple of minutes, lost in the pleasure of it until he recalled the gun, and kicked both of them off–they could take care of cleaning his feet later.

Rick surveyed they bar, and saw a couple of guys tussling over something by the dance floor. Sure enough, he caught sight of the gun between them, the pig turning the other man into a brutal looking rubber master, who proceeded to fuck the pig’s mouth right there on the floor–and the pig let the gun fall to the floor beside him, largely forgotten.

This was his chance–if he could get to the gun, it would be his again–and he could have some more fun with it before the night was through. Then again, the rubber redneck looked…pretty sexy. He might be amenable to joining forces, and families. There was always Davey too–and the odd, shifting bartender over there. He could find some way to get his hands on the gun again…probably.

*

So what should Rick’s plan be next?

  1. He tries to work out a deal with the rubber redneck, and sees what he might want to trade for the gun.
  2. He fights with him for the gun, causing some wild, unpredictable shots.
  3. He notices that the drinks poured by the bartender seem to be having strange effects, and wonders if that could help deal with the rubber redneck.
  4. He heads over to Davey instead, and sees if he wants to team up and get the gun back together.

The public poll is here!

The patron only poll is here!

Votes will be counted in two days!

Boy’s Daddy [Flash Commission]

Now that, Evan thought, was a boy he would like to get his hands on. Couldn’t be older than 25 at the most, but maybe even a little younger. Dressed like he wanted people to look at him, but hanging on the wall like he didn’t know what to do once he had the gaze. Blonde hair, probably not natural, toned body, and he’d caught the boy looking at Evan more than a few times tonight. He knew how to cruise, if nothing else, so he wasn’t a novice, but he knew how to make you think he might be. Evan’s tastes, on the other hand, were a bit rougher than this boy might be ready for, but that could be fun too. Evan tugged down on his leather vest, straightened his muir cap, and went over to the bar, bought a couple of drinks, and took one over to the boy. He took it and drank it–trusting, which was never a good idea.

They didn’t say much to one another, the boy didn’t seem very interested in what Evan might have to say. Instead, he just pulled ‘Daddy’ (as the boy called him, not even bothering to get Evan’s name into the dark corridors of the bar. Sex wasn’t kosher here, but that had never stopped anyone before. Things got heavier, and the boy was supple, giving into Evan’s dominance, but never breaking. The boy was so damn hot–Evan couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this into anyone, but as horny as he was, his cock was…unresponsive. The best he could manage was a half mast, and the boy’s hole was too tight for him to penetrate. The boy was nice enough about it, but from the smirk on his face, Evan could tell what he had to be thinking. Evan was going to break it off graciously, but instead, the boy shoved him to the wall with surprising force, hauled down Evan’s pants, was the boy’s cock was inside him before Evan even really realized what had happened.

It had been a long time since Evan had been fucked, and it hurt–the boy was too new to know how to break someone in, or too self-centered to care. Evan let him have it though–because it did feel surprisingly good, and the boy blew a load in him quickly, gave Daddy a parting kiss, and then slipped away. It wasn’t until his pants were back up, and he felt something leaking down the inside of his thigh, that Evan realized the boy had fucked him raw–without even asking. It had been hot though, all the same.

The next few days, as Evan went about his normal life, he kept…noticing things. Little details about himself that seemed a bit off. He’d just turned 31, but he’d always been proud of how gracefully he’d been aging–not that he necessarily looked young, but that he looked, well, hot. He looked mature, without looking, well, old. Each time he looked in the mirror though, he kept seeing something off–a few grey hairs in his beard, his hairline receding a couple of centimeters, a little extra paunch around his waist that made his pants feel a bit too tight. On their own, nothing would have caused too much alarm, but all together, it made him feel, well, out of sorts. It didn’t help that his cock still wasn’t performing as well as he was used to. He jacked off a few times, and while he was plenty horny, his cock just never seemed to get quite as still as it used to. The next weekend, he decided to go out again–what he needed was a fresh conquest, something to help him feel alive again. He put on his leathers, and headed for the bar–but he hadn’t gotten his first drink before the boy from before was on him.

He was…flattered, to say the least, and more than happy to have a second chance with the young stud. They had some beers together, and then headed for Evan’s place, where he had decided he was going to give the boy a night he wouldn’t soon forget. But like before, in the bar, all of his plans went sideways. He’d wanted to shackle the boy to the bed, but as soon as the boy saw the setup, he ordered Evan into them instead, face down. He hadn’t wanted to, but the boy could be…convincing. Once tied down, the boy had explored his closet, and Evan soon found out the boy was not the novice he had expected. He whipped him, paddled him, used all manner of toys on his hole before fucking him again, ordering Evan to beg him his boy for his cock, and while it wasn’t the scene he’d imagined, like before, it was…hot as hell. Exhausted, he passed out on the bed, the boy’s load still in his ass, while his boy cooed at him, telling him what a good daddy he was going to be.

When he woke the next morning, he was no longer shackled to the bed, but he found that he was still bound in a set of irons he kept in his toy chest. The chains on the hands and legs were long enough that someone in them could walk, and do most basic tasks, but not long enough to run or escape easily. The boy was sleeping in bed with him, and Evan woke him up, asking the boy to release him. Instead, the boy told him to get started on breakfast for him–he was going to sleep in for another hour or so.

He wanted to insist the boy give him the keys…but he didn’t. Instead, he got out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen, where he started making breakfast for the boy–frustrated, but more horny than anything else. He still hadn’t cum during all that session, and while his cock was stubbornly soft, he was aching with need all the same. The boy wandered in, yawning, as Evan finished up the meal, took a seat at the table, and let Evan serve him. Before Evan could sit to join him, the boy told him to get under the table and take care of his morning wood first. Again, he wanted to resist, but he couldn’t stop himself–he got under the table and sucked the boy off while he ate, swallowing another load from him. After, the boy had him clean off his feet until he finished eating, and when he was done, he got up, and got dressed.

“Boy, aren’t you gonna let me out of this?” Evan asked, but his voice sounded…strange. Raspier, and older–and weaker.

“I’ll be back in a few hours, daddy–your collection is good, but I need some…special stuff from my stash. We have all weekend together–don’t you worry. Clean up the kitchen, have lunch ready for when I get back, and if you finish before that, you can fuck yourself with a dildo for a while, alright?”

After the boy left, it was the first time Evan saw himself in the mirror–and now he knew for certain. The boy’s cum…it was fucking with his body, making him look older–his hairline now receding even more, his beard half grey, and he looked to be in his forties. He wanted to run, or get help, but instead he shuffled in and cleaned up, and fixed lunch, and then fucked himself until his boy got back, and the boy didn’t leave again until Sunday night, when his daddy was finished. He gave him a proper whipping as a send off, the old leather fag begging his boy for more, to hit him harder, until with a series of full body spasms the old fuck came, a measly few drops of cum dribbling from his permanently soft cock, onto the floor of his house. After that, the boy fucked him one final time, and then let his new, wonderfully masochistic daddy down. Evan thanked his boy for allowing him the pleasure of serving him, that he was so lucky to have a boy as strong, and smart, and young, and fit as he was. Then the boy left–and Evan was alone with his aching body, a back full of welts, and no idea of what to do next.

Still, he was retired now. That gave him plenty of time to have young men around. He especially loved inviting over boys, giving them lessons on how to abuse a daddy’s body properly–but he always made time for his boy, when he wasn’t busy. After all, the boy had so many daddies to attend to–he couldn’t get to them all on a regular basis. Evan could be patient though–because a weekend with his boy made the waiting all worthwhile.

Tricks and Treats [Flash Commission]

There were plenty of rumors about Old Man Sanders. Some people said he was dead, and that the house was actually abandoned. Others said he was a shut in. Others claimed he was a wizard. But always, in every rumor, he was known for his extraordinary gifts–though it was never clear what he was giving, or to who. Oliver and Martin, two guys going to college in town, had a drunken dare, a couple of nights before Halloween, and they decided they should head up the hill to the house, and see which, if any, of the rumors were true. They had already decided to go out on Halloween–a lot of the students did, and the neighborhoods humored them, giving them candy for fun. The big night came, and Oliver and Martin got dressed in their costumes–Oliver just put on his football uniform (he’d never been one for creativity) while Martin was wearing a simple robe and scream mask he’d bought at a store. They broke off from their friends around nine, and headed up the lonely hill towards Sanders mansion at the top.

No one was up there with him–most of the candy was to be found close to campus, where the residents were a bit more patient with their older trick-or-treaters. As far as they were concerned, that meant more candy for them. At last, they came to the mansion–it did look abandoned, aside from a spare few lights on in the windows. They let themselves in through the gate, and knocked on the door. To their surprise, a bent old man with a long white beard answered, and they both hollered, “Trick or treat!”

Old Man Sanders did not look amused. He peered at them, through the helmet and the mask…and both young men got the distinct sense that he could…see them, through the garments. “Aren’t you two a bit too old for silliness like this?”

“It’s…just for fun. If you don’t have anything, it’s cool,” Oliver said.

“We just wanted to see if the rumors were true!” Martin blurted out, and Sanders’ eyes narrowed further.

“Oh? Which rumors?”

Neither of them were sure what to say, to that. “Your…gifts,” Martin muttered.

Oliver tried to step away, eager to be gone, but found that his feet were glued to the doormat somehow.

“Gifts, eh? Well, I think I can scrounge up a couple of tricks and treats for boys like you–why don’t you come on in.”

Each of them found themselves shuffling inside the house, and Sanders shut the door behind them. “Now, both of you strip out of those childish costumes, and I’ll give you two something a bit more…grown up to wear.”

Again, neither of them could resist his commands, and they began stripping their way out of their costumes in the mansion’s entryway–and then beyond their costumes, even taking off their underwear. Sanders left, and returned a couple of minutes later with a bundle of clothes, and two pairs of shabby boots hanging from one hand. “Here you go boys, let’s see if you can fill these shoes.”

They did as they were told, and put on the clothes as Sanders handed the garments to each of them. They weren’t the least bit clean, and the clothes weren’t in their sizes at all. Oliver receiver a sleeveless muscle shirt covered with dirt–two sizes too big for him, even though he wore an XXL–and a set of overalls that hung off his large frame and pooled around his feet. Martin, on the other hand, got a heavily stained wifebeater–also much too large for him–and some jeans and suspenders. The jeans were too large at the waist and too short in the legs–the suspenders were too tight for him as well, pulling them up even higher. Lastly, they received the boots–also much too large for them both. They slid their feet into them…and once they were on, the laced tied themselves, and their bodies began to warp, over a matter of moments, until the clothes they were wearing fit perfectly–their bodies had changed to match.

Oliver was now nearly seven feet tall, and packed with muscle from head to toe, nearly bursting from the muscle shirt, the overalls struggling to contain his thick chest and massive thighs. Martin on the other hand, and shrunk–he was five foot two, and had a huge gut pushing out the jeans and suspenders until they were tight–almost too tight. They looked at each other and screamed, while Sanders looked on, enjoying the spectacle. “I suppose I am known for my gifts,” he said.

“Please–please change us back, we’re sorry, we didn’t mean to bother you!” Martin said.

“Aww…but don’t you two want your treats? Come now, let’s all relax a bit, and you can…enjoy yourselves.”

In the next room, Sanders sat both boys down in an armchair across from one another, and then left for a moment, returning with a cigar in one hand, and a six pack of beer in the other. “Here daddy,” he said to Martin, “Drink up–you’re very thirsty, aren’t you?”

He set the beers down, and Martin scrambled for one, popping the tab and chugging the brew down, before letting off a long belch–and as he did, his eyes sagged slightly. In fact, all of him sagged slightly, wrinkles appearing on his face as he aged up into his thirties, grabbed another beer, and chugged that one too.

While he drank, Sanders took the cigar over to Oliver, “Here boy, a special treat for you too–breathe deep now, you need it, don’t you?”

He shoved the end of the cigar into Oliver’s mouth, and it sprang to life. He breathed deep, trying to cough, but he couldn’t–and he felt power rush into him, hair sprouting all over his body, and he moaned around the cigar, eyes crossing a bit as his mind slowed down.

The two men enjoyed their treats for a while, and Sanders’…discussed their lives with them–their new lives. They would both remember being young men–but neither would be able to speak about it to anyone else. They were much happier now anyway. They both loved their gifts, after all. They loved living in the rundown trailer in the trailer park. Marty loved being Ollie’s daddy, lounging about the trailer all day, farting, belching, jacking off, waiting for his son to come home from work–his dumb, massive brute of a son, always chuffing on a cigar–and then Ollie would service his daddy from head to toe. He loved pleasing his daddy, after all, and once a week, they’d both make the trek up the hill, and help take care of Old Man Sanders’ needs too, right? After all, these were some expensive gifts, he’d given them, and they’d both be paying him back for the rest of their roughneck lives.

House of Marvels – Episode 1 (Part 12)

They made their way to the basement, Raury going down first, carefully down the stairs, since he couldn’t quite see them anymore, and he wasn’t even at the bottom of the steps before Eric was there, throwing his arms around him, kissing him, pulling him closer, telling him how glad he was that he was safe, that he was never going to let Raury out of his sight ever again, that he was going to keep him safe here, with him, right where he belonged.

Raury knew that Eric should…terrify him. He’d changed even more since he’d been gone. The rough skin was breaking apart and peeling away, revealing something…else beneath it. A rough red skin that, when it touched his soft flesh, was rough and…hot. In fact, all of Eric was hot. Just standing near him was making Raury sweat. His face was misshapen more and more, his nose pressing flatter against his face, even as his mouth was beginning to push out into a short snout. He…should have been terrified, but instead, looking at him, he was…so sexy. So much sexier than Hunter was, even, and he’d loved his few hours with Hunter earlier.

“I’m so…sorry Master, I’m sorry I ran, I’m just a stupid pig, I didn’t know better, but I’m back, I’ll never leave again, I promise.”

“Hush now, everything is going to be fine now,” Eric said, “You’re back where you belong–go sit on the couch and wait for me–we still need to finish what we started earlier, right?”

Raury nodded, and waddled over to the couch in the middle of the room. Hunter had come down the steps while Eric and Raury had embraced, and now Eric turned to him. “My Hunter, my clever, strong, beautiful Hunter…thank you for bringing him back to me.”

“Of course Master, I’ll never fail you again, I swear it.”

“You never will, I know that–but you deserve a reward for your service. You…you should be more than just…another. You’re my first, you will be…more…” he took a long, thoughtful draw from his pipe, stepped close, and fed his thrall the smoke, and like before, Hunter felt…power and energy flow into him. He grew taller still, until he was seven feet tall–a few inches shorter than Eric was now. Muscle packed on his frame, stark silver hair all over his body, his skull entirely bare, a thick grey beard around his mouth…but he also felt the smoke in his mind, unlocking it, quickening it.

The truth was, ever since Master had first fed him the smoke, he had felt…dull, like his mind was running a few gears lower than it usually did. Now, however, he found it running faster than it had before, insight and thought speeding through at light speed. “A cunning Hunter is the most dangerous of all,” Eric said, when he pulled away, “and I need you at your most cunning for what comes next.”

“Thank you Master, you know I will serve you, do whatever I can for you.”

“I know–go, I hunger, and this one is hungry too, I am certain. Prepare us all a feast while I tend to this one, and teach him his proper place here with me.”

Hunter slipped away, the wooden stairs groaning under his new weight, and he nearly hit his head on the doorway at the top, but caught himself in time. Eric turned and went to the couch where Raury was sitting and joined him, running his sharp nails over his tight clothes, cutting them away while Eric panted, his cock aching for his Master. “You…you wanted to play a game, before?” he muttered.

“Games,” Eric laughed, “No–I’m done with games.”

“Then–”

Before he could say anything else, Eric took a deep breath from his pipe, leaned in, and pushed the smoke into Raury’s throat. He was well practiced now, and he inhaled it deep…but it was different than it had been with Hunter earlier. The smoke was hot and fresh, drilling deeper into him, suffusing him, changing him. He felt it, he felt his body…relax. He didn’t grow like before–it was more like the fat on his body lost it’s structure. His somewhat firm gut sagged lower, as did the fat around his arms and legs, his triple chin under his long beard, his jowls. His face aged, growing wrinkled, with thick crows feet around his eyes. His slightly receding hairline pushed back further still, leaving only a thin horseshoe fringe, and his beard lengthened and turned a stark white–as did the rest of the hair on his body. But as old as he felt, he didn’t ache or hurt–he just felt so, impossibly heavy. So heavy he didn’t want to stand, or walk, or even move. Instead he sagged into his Master, allowing him to support him as the color drained from his eyes until they were an empty white void. His mind was empty too–there were only…needs. Hunger. A thirst for Master’s smoke. An aching horniness and desire to be fucked. That eternal inertia of his own mass.

“Such a handsome daddy you make,” Eric said, “But what should I call you?”

“Anything,” he said, his voice raspy and dry, almost too quiet to hear across the room, “Anything Master. I’ll be anything for you.”

I’m going to call you Tubb.”

Tubb nodded. It meant little to him, but he no longer had any other name, and receiving anything from his Master was enough to make his small, shriveled cock throb underneath his fat.

“Tubb, yes–so much of you here. You were very bad Tubb, for running away. I’m going to have to punish you, you know…but you like that, don’t you?” Eric said, running his claws across Tubb’s soft fat, hard enough to scratch, a bit of blood welling up behind them. He flinched, his entire body jiggled, but he did…enjoy it. Master licked the wounds, tasting his blood, and the skin sealed up again, good as new as soon as the smoke from his breath touched them. Then, Eric played harder, biting and clawing–sometimes shallow, sometimes deep, always healing him quickly, and Tubbs just laid there, enthralled to the sensation of his Master’s punishment, unable to believe that any real torture could drive him to such delirious heights of arousal–at least, until Hunter came back down with the feast.

It was massive–Hunter had cooked nearly everything he’d kept squirrelled away in the fridge and cabinets, because he could sense that this was something special. Eric ate first–he was still ravenous from his growing frame–and all Tubbs could do was watch his Master gorge himself, stuffing the rare, and nearly raw meat down his fanged gullet, and he wanted it. He wanted…to get bigger. So big, he couldn’t move. It felt like everything else had disappeared from his mind, except for that one singular desire–and when Eric finally slid over and started feeding him, Tubbs ate with all the gusto he could manage, hoping to impress his master with his suddenly bottomless hunger. Hunter just watched, until Eric told him to walk around behind Tubbs and fuck him while he ate–which he did happily, glad that he wasn’t being punished for his earlier…indiscretions with Tubbs back on campus. When he finished, Eric made him trade places, feeding Tubbs while Eric had his pleasure in his newest daddy’s hole, and the sensation of his Master’s cock filling his fat ass, making the rolls of fat on his now old body shake to and fro…it was all Tubb’s ever wanted from life. All he could possibly want, in his dull, empty mind, concerned only with pleasing his Master.

The feast lasted for hours, and after, while Hunter inhaled the scraps left behind by his Master and Tubbs, Eric relaxed against his blubbery daddy, pleased with how warm he was, inhaling more smoke from his pipe…surprised by how exhausted he was, suddenly. Changing Tubbs like that…it hadn’t been like Mr. Fields. It had cost him…something. Some energy he hadn’t even known he had, and he could already sense he wouldn’t be able to do it to someone else for quite a while…still, he craved more. He’d thought that one more would have been…if not enough, at least a number where he could rest. Instead, it had only lit is greed further on fire. He wanted more daddies, he needed more daddies. So many that he lost count, so many he’d never have to worry about losing a single one…all of them in the entire world, even. He took a deep breath from his pipe, sucking his smoke deep inside him, and felt…something spark there, in his chest, like he’d sucked down a cinder or a spark. While it should have concerned him…it didn’t feel bad. It felt…rather nice, actually, like it belonged there, and he beckoned Hunter over to his side with one clawed finger.

Eric…knew of other daddies. Daddies he coveted. Men from the school, professors and administrators mostly he’d encountered and harboured…fantasies over for longer than he cared to admit. He no longer needed to covet though–no, now was a time to take. They were his, he’d claimed them with his lust, and he would own them as sure as he owned Hunter and Tubbs. They would be happy here, serving their proper Master as good daddies should, and Hunter would fetch them for him. He would need to be careful, and he would have to be cunning. They couldn’t disappear all at once, for that would raise suspicion, and there needed to be no evidence leading anyone here–not until Eric was strong enough to defend his horde properly. Once he was…finished, once he was everything he needed to be, then they could show the world what he was, but for now…Hunter would have to be careful. Hunter was happy for the challenge. While being outside had been…terrifying in some ways, knowing that if he was away from master for too long he would perish, it had also been…exhilarating. The hunt, the capture…he wanted to taste that joy again, more than anything. And so, the next evening he emerged again, lungs full of smoke and a list of names in the pocket of his sweats. He headed for campus, ready to bring his Master the daddies he craved–knowing that with each one he brought, Master would reward him handsomely as well.

House of Marvels – Episode 1 (Part 11)

“M-Mr. Fields?” Raury muttered, seeing hints of the older man in the stranger’s face, but so much was different as well.

“Don’t worry–we have a little while. You have a room here, don’t you? Is there anyone there?”

Raury shook his head no.

“Good. Take me up there, with you, and we can talk about what a bad thing you did, and how you can make it up to Master.”

Raury knew he should run, but it was so much better to…obey. He had to do what the smoke said, after all…didn’t he? He turned around and unlocked the door to the dorm while Hunter gathered up the bags of food, and followed him inside. Raury’s room was down in the basement, and thankfully they didn’t pass anyone along the way. Raury opened up his room, and Hunter pushed him inside, immediately letting loose a long exhale, smoke pouring from his nose and mouth into the air of the small room, and he breathed a little easier. Once it was dark, they would return to Master together, which gave him plenty of time to punish him properly.

“Did…did Eric do this to you?” Raury said to Hunter, fondling himself without even realizing he was doing it. “What…what did he do to us?”

“Isn’t there something else you’d rather be doing with that mouth of yours?” Hunter said, pulling a wrapped hamburger from one of the bags. He took off the paper, walked to where Raury was standing, and pushed it to his mouth. Raury devoured it, and somehow it tasted…better than it had back in the dining hall. Something about the smoke in the air, something about the smoke the stranger had fed him, he ate it in five or six bites, and felt his stomach growl in need…and swell slightly larger.

He shook his head, “No…I don’t…don’t make me bigger, please…”

“No? Then why did you have all of this with you? What were you going to do with it then?”

He fed him more before Raury could find words to speak, and after that, Raury didn’t seem to be able to find anything to say at all. He just…ate, and ate, and ate, whatever the man gave him, did whatever he told him to do, his mind slowing to a crawl, the man telling him he was stupid. So stupid for leaving, so dumb for forsaking their master. Just an animal–too stupid to talk, too stupid to run anymore, too stupid to think for himself–from now on, the only thoughts he was going to have were the thoughts Master allowed him to have. Hunter told him how handsome he was becoming, how much Master was going to enjoy him, all of him, how proud he should be of himself and his gluttony.

Before too much longer, the clothes he was trying to wear were ripped away from him, and Raury found himself shoved over the side of the bed, and then Hunter was inside him, raping him, fucking him–what did it matter? He was stupid, dumb, couldn’t be trusted to think for himself. It was good Hunter had come to get him, after all, he didn’t even know what was good for him. Didn’t understand how much Master loved him, didn’t understand how much he needed him. He felt…terrible, remembering what he did back at the house, running away like that. He’d never run again, no–no, he didn’t want to run again, he just wanted to go back.

Hunter came deep inside Raury’s ass, and then Hunter pulled his clothes on and took Raury’s keycard and phone, before pushing a bit more smoke out into the air of the room. “Stay here–I’ll be back in half an hour or so. Don’t make me hunt you down again–you know how much that will upset Master.”

Raury nodded from the bed, and then Hunter slipped out, leaving him alone again…and he thought. Or rather, he tried to think. He tried to make his mind do…anything, but he couldn’t seem to do much of anything at all. He rolled up, forcing himself up to a sitting position, and couldn’t believe how…huge he was now, even larger than he’d been back at the dining hall, but it didn’t terrify him anymore. This…was how he was supposed to look. How a stupid pig like him should look…though he still didn’t look quite right. He was too…young still, but Master would fix that, probably. Master could do anything, after all. Master was so smart, and handsome, and the most important being in the entire world. He found some cold food still in the bags and ate it, feeling his body swell a bit larger still, and it wasn’t long before Hunter returned with a shopping bag of clothing–some for him, and something much larger for Raury. It was dark out at this point, so they got dressed–Raury struggled, both with how slow his mind was running, and how big he had become, and so Hunter had to help him out, but when they were dressed, they left.

Around midnight, they arrived back at the house, and once inside, Hunter breathed a great sigh of relief, the remaining smoke pouring out of him into the already hazy air. He’d made it. He’d made it, and he’d…succeeded. Raury, too, felt better being back here. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember why he’d even left in the first place. He still hadn’t learned what game it was that Master wanted to play with him–and while he wasn’t sure he was smart enough to play it, he would try, for him. He’d do anything for him, after all–Hunter told him he had to, after all, and whatever Hunter told him to think…he’d think.

House of Marvels (Part 10)

“Raury would you get a fucking hold of yourself?” Sam shouted at him, “I just watched you pack on…I don’t fucking know how many pounds, and the only thing you can say is that it feels good? What the fuck happened in there? What did he do to you?”

“He didn’t…I mean, he…” Raury said, trying to focus, and trying to pull his hands away from himself, but it just felt so…good. “I don’t really remember. He…kissed me, and blew all this smoke into me from that pipe, and I ran. I haven’t felt right since, but…but I do feel a lot better now, than when I was coming here.”

“Are you kidding me? Fucking look at what just happened to you!”

“I don’t know, alright! I don’t…I can’t explain it, and I’m still hungry, and…and horny too…” Raury was groping himself more now, one hand still on his gut, while the other had moved beneath it, fishing around for his cock. It was a bit harder to find, buried as it was with all of this new fat, but that, too, sent a little thrill through him, and only made him hornier still. “You, uh, wanna go fill up another tray for me?” he asked Sam.

“You need help, Raury, we need to get you to a doctor, and figure out what the hell happened to you, and we need to get Eric help too. That wasn’t normal, what was happening down there. I’ve never seen Eric smoke a pipe before–do you know where he got it?”

“I…I think Jamie mentioned…something…fuck, if…if I had some more food, I could think better, I’m already hungry again…”

“Come on, get up. Let’s at least get you to the clinic.”

“No, I’m…I’m ok, honest, I think it’ll go away on its own.”

“How in the hell could you possibly know that?” Sam said, “This–this is insane, you realize that, right?”

“Just…just leave me alone, alright? I don’t know what’s happening, and you’re not fucking helping.”

“Raury, come on, let me take you to a hospital.”

“No, just…just…I just need some space, and I’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, when I feel better, alright? We’ll…we’ll figure out what to do then.” Raury coughed again, a deep hacking cough this time, and again, a tiny wisp of smoke escaped him, slid through the air, and into Sam’s mouth. The taste was slight, barely even noticeable, but Sam felt a sudden sense of ease wash over him, the same as he’d felt down in that basement, but far fainter. He didn’t know why he was arguing with his friend, really–Raury would probably be fine the next day. If he wanted to be left alone…then he’d do that.

“Alright, but tomorrow, ok? Meet me for breakfast at nine, and if you aren’t…smaller, I’m taking you to a doctor.”

“Ok, ok,” Raury said, “But it’s going to be fine, I…I promise.”

He didn’t sound particularly confident about that, but Sam was already turning to leave. Raury didn’t really understand his friend’s sudden change of attitude, but it was a relief. He…had needs, and he didn’t really want Sam to witness them–or anyone to witness them. He got up and went to the dining hall again, made a second round through, getting just as much food, but taking it all to go this time, and then left, heading for his dorm room. He’d gotten lucky this year, and managed to snag a single for himself, and the privacy was amazing. He hurried as quickly as he could, breathing heavily, thighs rubbing, horribly aware of just how ill fitting his clothes were now, but that all could wait. He needed to eat, and he needed to jack off–after that, he could worry about the rest.

He was so preoccupied, that he didn’t notice Hunter behind him on the path, steely eyed, a bit of smoke escaping his mouth every time he exhaled. Hunter had found him easily, but hadn’t wanted to risk confronting him in the dining hall, especially with the other one there. He would have to be taken care of at some point, of course, but he wasn’t his target just yet. Thankfully the other one had left, and now Raury was alone–and once Hunter got his hands on him, he knew he would have no trouble convincing the big man to come back to their Master’s lair, and stay there for a good, long while. Of course, he needed to be punished for his escape, and Hunter could take care of that as well. He felt his cock swelling in the front of his tight sweatpants, a couple of students staring at it as he passed, but Hunter didn’t notice. All of his attention was on his prey.

Raury had to set his food down to find his keycard for the dorm. Hunter checked for an witnesses, saw none, and he swept in, shoving Raury against the brick and pressing his mouth to his before he could scream, pushing the smoke master had given him into his mouth. Raury tried to cough, but Hunter was too forceful–Raury felt the flood of pleasure, moaned into Hunter’s smoky mouth and began kissing him back, the smoke taking all of his other fears and concerns away.

“Found you–you didn’t think you’d be able to get away, did you?” Hunter said.

House of Marvels (Part 9)

Sorry for the break in the middle of the story, but thank you to everyone who has commissioned flash stories from me so far! It’s a big help with moving expenses. I’m still open, and while I might close the pot at the end of the month, everyone will (most likely) get their stories. If you want one, ask now!


Raury finally made it back to campus, and had to stop when he reached a bench near one of the classroom buildings to take a breather. He’d been moving quickly, but not running or jogging, but he was still winded somehow. The air didn’t feel right to him–no matter how hard he breathed, it felt like he was missing something. As much as he hated naming the desire, he wanted the smoke–Eric’s smoke. He could still taste it on his breath, feel it in his lungs, lingering. He forced a cough, trying hard to get it out of him, and thought he could see a few little wisps leave him as he did, and he waved them away, worried they might try to get back inside him when he inhaled again.

He pulled out his phone and texted Sam while he recovered his breath, wanting to know where he was so they could talk about what had happened. Sam was glad to hear from him, and wanted to know if Eric had come to his senses and wanted to get help. Raury told him it would be better if they talked about it in person; he honestly didn’t know where to begin with what he’d seen, and what Eric had tried to do to him down in that basement. That, and how much he still wanted to go back, and let him do it to him. Breathing wasn’t getting much easier, but Sam told him they should just meet at the dining hall nearby, so he hefted himself upright and headed in that direction, his gut growling a bit at the thought of food. The walk wasn’t far, but by the time he got there his lungs were already tired again, and he was shaking a little, licking his lips, and even a bit dizzy and nauseous. There were some chairs inside, and he sat back down in one, coughing again, harder this time, trying to dislodge whatever it was that was inside him. He was certain that something was in him now–he could almost feel it, but he was also starting to think that no amount of coughing would dislodge it. It was deeper than his lungs now, running in his veins through his flesh, infusing him. He remembered how strange Eric’s body had looked, and wondered if he was changing too. He looked down at his arms, looking for any rashes, felt around his face, but froze when he felt around his mouth, and the thick stubble that had appeared since leaving Mr. Field’s home.

He looked around, hoping for a mirror, but there was nothing nearby. He pushed himself back up, and then saw Sam enter through a door on the other side of the space and waved at him. Sam saw him wave, and looked at him with a confused look, which them turned into shock, and he hurried over. “Raury? What…what in the hell is wrong? Are you feeling alright?”

Raury wasn’t sure how Sam could know he wasn’t feeling well from across the room, but he nodded, “Yeah, I…I feel a bit sick, from that smoke I guess.”

Sam just stared at him, or at his midsection more accurately, “Raury…you’re fat.”

He looked down at himself, and sure enough, his shirt was riding up over the small gut which had sprouted while he walked to campus. He grabbed it, and could feel it pushing against his hands–it was still growing. It wasn’t air or gas either–it was fat, and it gave a loud growl of hunger as a cramp struck him, nearly bending him over. “Fuck, I’m…what the fuck?”

“We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No–no, I need to eat, I’m…I’m ok, I just need some food first. I can’t…afford a hospital anyway.”

Sam tried to insist, and even threatened to call for an ambulance, but Raury refused, mostly out of denial. This couldn’t be happening to him, and if he actually went to the hospital, then he’d have to actually grapple with what he’d seen…but the hunger was quickly crowding out every other concern. He went to the cafeteria, Sam following along behind him, watching as Raury piled a tray high–much higher than Raury usually did, and headed for the exit. Sam noticed a few other things about his once thin friend as they went to a table–the thick stubble around his mouth that Raury had felt before, and now forgotten about in his hunger, but also the fact that his friend’s hairline was receding slightly, and both temples had picked up a slight tinge of grey.

He kept trying to get Raury’s attention about all of this, but all his friend seemed to be focusing on was the food in front of him. He ate with a frenzy, and from his eyes, he was even scaring himself with the sheer desperate need filling him. All the while, his gut continued to expand, from a small paunch to a proper gut hanging out into his lap, the rest of his body filling out slightly as well, especially in his chest, becoming two moobs also resting on his new gut. After half an hour of stuffing himself, and with the tray of food almost exhausted, Raury let out a loud belch and finally managed to slow himself down as the hunger subsided. In fact, he felt much better all over–the nausea, exhaustion and dizziness seemed to have cleared up, and he finally felt like he could think clearly. He looked over at Sam, the first time he’d managed to acknowledge his friend sitting there, and blushed at the look of shock across his face, then looked down at himself, taking in what his self-stuffing had done to his figure.

He was…massive. His gut had expanded out over his thighs, and was falling down between them, pushing them apart. He grabbed it in his hands, kneading it, and let out a surprising groan, his cock responding immediately to the sensation. “Fuck…I didn’t…know being fat felt this fucking good…”

A Hair Appointment

Flash commissions like this one are still open! Message me for details.


This was the place. Drew checked the address on his phone again, just to be sure, and then stepped up to the door and knocked on it, a bit timidly. It had been such a grueling process, getting here, and it was finally happening–he was here. The door opened after a moment, and…well, Drew was a bit surprised, if not a bit disappointed. From what he had heard about this guy, and what he could do, he was expecting someone a bit more, well, older maybe. The man in the door was young, probably in his early twenties, shirtless, wearing a pair of gym shorts–though he was…very hairy. His whole chest was coated in hair, which ran up his neck and nearly joined the thick, neatly trimmed beard around his face. From the hair on his shoulders, he was probably just a thickly furred on his back. “You must be Drew, right? I’m Tyler. You ready?”

Drew nodded, and stepped into the house, Tyler shutting the door behind them. There was a mirror across from the door in the entryway, and Drew hoped it would be the last time he would have to look at himself like this–his young, pudgy face, unable to grow a beard, not that he hadn’t tried for most of his life. With his blonde hair, it just looked like fuzz, and never grew into much of anything. The rest of his body was mostly smooth as well–and he hated it. He wanted what this man, Tyler, could give him, more than anything.

“Come on then, the other one is here, and waiting,” Tyler said, and climbed the stairs to the upper floor.

“The other one?” Drew asked. Tyler didn’t respond, and Drew followed him up the stairs, a bit confused.

Tyler led him into a bedroom, and there, sure enough, was…another man. Close to Drew’s age, probably, in his early thirties, wearing a business suit, and sporting a thin goatee around his mouth. He looked…nervous, about as nervous as Drew felt, and when they came in together, he looked…annoyed. “Well, shall we get started?” Tyler asked, and dropped his shorts. The hair was just as thick on his thighs and around his cock–it was big, easily seven inches long, and thick as a beer can.

“Hold on,” the man in the suit said, “Why are there two of us here? I didn’t agree to this.”

Tyler smiled, “Because I wanted you both here, of course. Why else?”

“I…No, no, this was a mistake, I need to–” the business fellow said, but Tyler stopped him.

“Now Mark, why don’t you just calm down a bit,” he said, and pushed him down to his knees, facing Tyler’s massive cock, “I’m afraid you can’t leave–either of you–until we’re finished here. But you don’t really want to leave, do you?” he asked, as he rubbed the head of his cock against Mark’s upper lip. Drew watched, astonished, as the hair there began to thicken into a thick, full mustache, hanging long over his lip, mismatched now with the thin goatee underneath. Mark felt it, moaned, and rubbed the rest of his face against Tyler’s cock, who allowed him to do it, hair growing everywhere it touched, a thick, five o’clock shadow growing all over his cheeks and face. Drew–he didn’t want to get left out, and so he got down there too, shoving his face in with Mark’s, fighting to get his face against Tyler’s cock, feeling his own cheeks tingle as the first hairs began to push out. After a couple of minutes, he looked over at a mirror, and saw that he already had a short beard all over his face–but it wasn’t the same blonde as his hair. It had darkened somewhat, and was almost red.

Obviously annoyed at having to share in the bounty, Mark pushed Drew away while he was distracted, and swallowed Tyler’s cock into his mouth. Drew tumbled backwards onto his ass, and while he was going to push his way back in–his jaw dropped at the sight of what was happening to Mark’s frame. He was…growing. His thin body was bulking up with muscle, and his neatly tailored suit wasn’t built for that kind of expansion. After half a minute, they all heard the first seam rip, and Mark just started sucking faster, feeling the hair growing all over his body now, even as his beard grew in even thicker, though the hair on his head was beginning to recede.

“You’d better get in here, if you want any of this,” Tyler said to Drew, snapping him out of his daze, “I wanted you here because…well, let’s just say I think the two of you will be a good pair, but you’re going to have to fight for it.”

So Drew did–he shoved the growing Mark out of the way, and swallowed the cock himself–and as soon as he did, he tasted the precum flowing down his throat, and his entire body started to heat up, as his fat began to melt away, and was replaced by muscle–lots of muscle, in fact, even more than Mark. He was growing taller too, he had to crouch slightly to keep sucking, before Mark shoved him away and got his mouth back around the cock. They kept fighting over him for a few minutes, each of them growing rather evenly, and they became more and more aggressive as they grew, tearing the clothes off themselves, and off each other, until they were both naked. The larger they got, the more they manhandled Tyler as well, Drew lifitng him up and throwing him onto the bed, swallowing his cock deep, until–iIn a sudden rage–Mark dragged Drew off him and threw him to the floor, determined to overwhelm him. The cock was his, the gift was his! That’s why he was here, so he could receive it, and him alone. What he hadn’t counted on, however, was that Drew had been growing slightly faster than him, and while he was caught off guard for a moment, he wrestled Mark off him, and in a couple of minutes had him pinned, face down and ass up, to the ground.

He felt…good doing that. He’d never been able to overpower anyone in his life, and it felt….so right, so right that he should be on top, that he should be in charge–so he took his much larger, much hairier cock and shoved it into Mark’s struggling ass, and as soon as he did, the hulk underneath him relaxed, moaned, and started humping back, eager to get more of Drew’s cock inside him.

“Here you go, buddy, drink up,” Tyler said, stepping beside him and pushing his cock to Drew’s lips. “You’ve earned it.”

Drew drank, and as he did now, he could feel other things changing, beyond just his body. His old life as a chubby loser was disappearing, and replaced by a new one–a life spent at the gym, constantly working out, constantly getting stronger, and larger–and helping other men do the same. He’d worked as a coach for years now, training young men to be strong like he was, and all the men he worked with…well, he had a bit of an effect on them, he liked to think. Now, though, he was in his sixties, but still going strong. His beard continued to grow throughout this, lengthening and darkening further, until it was a deep red brown–though the color didn’t stay. As he grew older, it became streaked with dark grey as well. His hair pulled back unitl it was cut into a flattop–and then came the final gush of cum from Tyler’s cock, and as Drew drank it down, feeling the man’s magic flow into him–it also flowed through him, and he came into Mark’s eager ass.

Looking down, he could feel him change as well–change into the man he wanted him to be. He’d been training his husband all his life–and it showed. Mark was just as large as Drew was, if not a bit larger. Through the hair, he could see a deep farmer’s tan forming all over him, from his years working out in the sun as a construction foreman. There, he was the big boss, ordering everyone else around, but once he got home, he knew that Drew was really in charge, and he did everything his husband said–happily, of course. After all, Drew wasn’t one to abuse his power over anyone–that’s why he’d earned it, after all.

Tyler only had a moment too look over his new creations, before they both turned on him, just as horny as ever, threw him on the bed–Mark taking his face and Drew his ass–and the two couple of muscle bears paid Tyler back for his gift, pounding at both ends until they both came again, all three of them collapsing into a sweaty, musky heap afterwards, rubbing each other’s thickly furred bodies, their pasts now…so far behind them they couldn’t even really recall ever being different. Then Tyler sent them on their way, and in hand, and looked over his list of applicants. Who next? He had appointments to fill, after all.