In The Doghouse (Part 2)

Gage grabbed the receiver. “Yeah, 911 right? Fuck yeah I got a fuckin’ emergency, two fucking guys just walked by mah fuckin’ house. Looked like they were casin’ the joint tah rob it.”

Carson went to shout so he’d be heard on the other line, but rather than words, what came out of his mouth was a long, and very loud, howl.

“Hey!” Gage shouted at him, “Hush you stupid fucking dog, I’m fuckin’ talkin’ tah the nice lady.”

In horror, Carson brought his hands to his face, and realized what had happened. Where his mouth and nose had been a second before, there was now a furry muzzle. He ran his hands along it, opened his mouth and felt his long tongue and sharp teeth, his new black nose that he could see when he crossed his eyes–he tried to speak again, but what came out were a couple short barks.

“Dumb fuckin’ mutt,” Gage said, and stomped over, wrapped his arm around Carson’s shoulders and pulled him closer, towards his armpit. When he did, the same stench as before washed over him, but this time it was both a hundred times more powerful to his new nose, and it also smelled amazing. Unable to stop himself, he started licking at Gage’s pit, who helpfully raised his arm up over his head, giving Carson full access it.

“A description? Didn’t git a good look at their faces ‘r nothin’. They were dressed like a couple of thugs though.”

This was insane, Carson thought, he had to stop this. He tried to push himself away, but his new mouth refused to cooperate.

“Nah, I didn’t see ‘em doin’ a crime, but they fuckin’ looked like it–ya can see it in the fuckin’ eyes, ‘n they took off when I yelled at ‘em! Guilty fuckin’ conscience.”

He was so close–so fucking close to the receiver, but he couldn’t do anything, he was fucking helpless.

“Whatever, if ya ain’t gonna do nothin’, then just fuckin’ say so!” Gage said, and slammed the receiver back down, and turned to Carson. “That was a very bad dog, ya made me have tah go and lie tah that nice lady, ya stupid mutt. We’re gonna have tah make sure ya don’t get intah any more trouble while yer livin’ here, that’s for sure.”

Carson whined, still unable to pull his face free of Gage’s stinking pit, but the man shoved him back a step, reached out, and grabbed both of Carson’s hands on his own. This time, he could see, as well as feel, the change ripping through them, as his fingers shrank, his nails growing longer and turning black, brindle fur running up his forearms to just below his elbows, wrist bones cracking and reforming. He looked at his helpless mitts and whined again, pleading with the man to let him go. Gage just grabbed the neck of Carson’s shirt and tugged it off him, letting his revealing his small belly and hairless arms. Carson tried to push past him and run for the door, no longer caring what he might look like, but Gage tripped him and he fell flat on his face. He knelt down behind him, tugged down both of Carson’s socks, and gripped his ankles, the same stomach churning sensation running from his toes to his knees.

Carson didn’t dare look back, he didn’t want to see. Scraping his new front claws against the linoleum, he tried to pull his knees under him so he could stand back up, but his leg refused to bend. All he could really manage was to push himself across the floor on all fours, while Gage just laughed behind him, spraying dark spit as he did. “Come on dogboy, yer on all fours fer good now. I thought a smart faggot like ya can figure it out, right?”

Out on the carpet, where he had better traction, Carson did, in fact, manage to get up on all fours, but it felt…precarious. His front paws were certainly happy, and wide enough to support him, but it felt like he was standing on his back toes, ankles up, his knees off the ground with his ass thrust a bit high. Looking under his body, and trying to ignore the sight of his slimy cock, still erect and hugging his belly, he saw two dog, toes wide with the heels lifted. From there, the leg bent twice, down at the ankle, and then back at the knee, but both sections of his legs looked…shorter. He doubted they’d be able to support his whole weight, even if he could bend them in the right direction. Still, he walked to the door as best he could, Gage following along behind, watching him. He got to the door and pawed at the knob, but there was no way his paw could get enough traction on it to open it–he was stuck.

“It was a good try, faggot, but yer mine now. Still, we gots a few more details tah sort out, right boy?” Gage gave a sharp tug on Carson’s ears, and with a jolt they shifted up to the top of his head, grew longer and flopped over, covered with the same brindle hair as his muzzle. With a touch at the base of his back, he groaned as a long tail pushed it’s way out, above his ass, and started waving to and fro against his will. “And lastly,” Gage said, running his hands over Carson’s back, he felt a million tiny pricks as fur sprouted all over his back and down over his ass cheeks, but without changing any of his body. “And now, while it’s been fun lettin’ ya struggle, I think we need ya nice ‘n obedient, right boy?” Gage said, and took a leather collar from the coat hook by the door–in the light, Carson caught a glint of the tag, which read in capital letters the word “FAGGOT”. Carson tried to get out from under him, but Gage wrapped it around his furry neck and latched it. “Now sit, Faggot!”

Against his will, Carson dropped his ass to the floor, his odd legs tucked up underneath him, tail still wagging, and sat back, looking up at Gage looming over him. He tried to move, tried to move his paws to try and get the collar off, but he couldn’t change position, not until Master said.

Master? No, no fucking way was this disgusting fat bastard going to be his Master!

“Much better, ‘n a good name fer a nasty dogboy like ya–now, I was going to have some fun wit’ ya tahnight, but ya’ve been a real bad boy–I think ya’ll have tah go tah bed without dinner, ‘r yer bone. Now go on–out in the yard ya dumb mutt.”

He tried to fight it, but his body refused to cooperate–he followed Gage out the backdoor and into the dogrun, Gage padlocking the door shut behind him, and Carson started barking, anything to get someone’s attention.

“Now stop that! Be quiet, ya mutt–ain’t nobody gonna find ya back here, trust me. Be good, ‘n I’ll see ya in the mornin’.”

September Patreon Suggestions Ready for Download! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

This month’s suggested stories are done and ready for all you patrons to download!

Each month I take suggestions, and use them to write a few short pieces based on those prompts. This month, there’s a sequel to an older story of mine called “The Audition”, some weight gain and mind drain, piss addiction and mind control, and an inanimate pipe TF and some pipe bear fun to go with it! All it takes is one dollar a month to be able to submit ideas, and read the completed stories. To give you an idea of what these look like, here’s a suggestion I took from August.

Loopholes

Barron could, in some possible world, forgive one of his neighbors for having a dog, even if it was against the rules of the building. He had, in fact, tried to be patient. Most of the time, in fact, the dog seemed to be well behaved, or at the very least quiet, but this was the third Saturday in a row where he had been woken from a dead sleep at six in the morning by the sound of the mutt yapping its head off through the wall. He dialed the number for the building office below, but got no one–maybe it was too early. In any case, something had to be done–Barron was sick of it. He threw on some clothes, left his condo, and pounded on his neighbor’s door.

It was a few moments before the door opened, and a younger man peeked through the crack. He was new to the building–in fact, Barron hadn’t even gotten the young man’s name yet, but this was as good an introduction as any. “Hey, I’m your neighbor–I can’t help but hear that you have a dog in there–through my wall. You know this building has a no pet policy, right? It’s in our contract?”

The young man smiled, “Ah, I had a conversation with the office about that actually, and we worked out a clarification to that. See, it isn’t a no pet policy, really, but a no “animal” policy. I found that to be fair for me and my pup.”

Barron just stared at him confused.

“Look, step inside and see for yourself! He’s very nice, and he loves strangers,” he said, and opened the door so Barron could step inside. He did so, and in the living room, he found himself looking at…well, he wasn’t quite sure what it was, but even he had to admit that it wasn’t a dog. It was a man. A man in a rubber suit of some sort…but even that wasn’t quite right, because looking at him, on all fours…his body was all wrong.

“Isn’t he cute? His name is Rover Collins. Say hi Rover!”

Rover turned in a circle and gave a bark, giving Barron a chance to see all of him–including his face, the lower half of which was obscured by a rubber mask, which wrapped up the side of his head to a pair of floppy rubber ears. The eyes–he knew those eyes. “Wait, Robert?” Barron asked, “Is that you?”

Rover didn’t reply, but Barron knew it had to be him–Robert Collins, another neighbor of his on this floor.

The young man came up behind him, and Barron turned and saw that he, too, was wearing a rubber suit, with a generous opening for his cock and balls in the crotch. “Robert and I had a nice chat a couple weeks ago. I told him how much I missed having a pup, you see, and he was more than willing to help, right Rover?”

“This…what the fuck is this?”

“But I thought, why stop at puppies, you know? I have so many ideas, and so many neighbors! Like you. I was hoping you’d come by today, Barron–I’ve had Rover barking his head off, just for you.”

Barron shoved his way past the young man and ran for the door, but he ran right into someone standing in the doorway. Looking up, he recognized the face of Mr. Harrison, the building supervisor, leering down at him with a cruel grin on his face, under the rubber hood he was wearing, and the rubber shirt, and vest, and pants, and boots. “See? Part of my understanding with management was that Mr. Harrison was going to help me with…enforcement, right Harrison?”

“Yes master,” Harrison said, stepped forward and began tearing at Barron’s clothes until he was completely naked, and then the young man grabbed him in his rubber coated arms, and he felt the rubber turn wet, and begin creeping over his skin. “Now now, just relax. You’ll enjoy being my big bull so much, trust me, you’ll love it.”

“Yeah, come on, that’s it,”

Barron moaned, a bit groggy, and tried to move, but his arms and legs didn’t seem to be working correctly, leaving him flailing on his side.

“Come on ya big lug, you can do it. Harrison, he’s heavy! Give me a hand.”

Barron felt four hands on his back, but instead of helping him stand upright, they rolled him towards his belly. He felt his arms and legs get under him, somehow, and he stood, shaky, looking down at the carpeted floor below him, disoriented.

“There you go, Mr. Bull! That’s very good.” The praise made his heart flutter a bit, but everything still seemed so…strange to him. What was going on? He didn’t remember much at all, beyond Robert, and then Harrison. The young man tugged something in front of his face, and he felt a sharp pain in his nose. “Come on, I want you to see.”

His arms and legs walked, but it didn’t seem to be in a way he found familiar. For one thing, why were his arms and legs the same length? He tried to look down and back under himself, but the young man kept his head up by tugging on whatever was attached to his face, until they arrived in front of a mirror, and he let Barron see his body.

The rubber…it was everywhere, but it didn’t feel like he was wearing it. It felt…like his skin, like it was a part of him. It covered his arms and legs, and they were molded to look like a cattle’s four limbs, with thick shoulders and haunches, and heavy hooves where his hands and feet ought to be. Were…were they in there? He couldn’t feel them at all. He lifted one front leg and shook the hoof, scared out of his mind. There was a rubber bull tail whipping above his ass, and his cock…what the fuck had happened to his cock and balls? He saw a thick, black cock slide out of a rubber sheath running along his belly, close to a foot long, but his balls…they didn’t look like balls anymore, they looked like an udder. His face was covered mostly in rubber, like Robert’s was, aside for the eyes. His mouth was twisted into a bullish snout, and in the end was a thick steel ring–that’s what the young man had been tugging on.

“What do you think, Mr. Bull? You’re going to be providing a lot of milk for me and the rest of my pets. From now on. Good, healthy milk.” He got down, put a bowl under Barron’s udder, and tugged on one rubber teat. He moaned in pleasure as a squirt of thick cum jetted out into the bowl, and then another, each tug like a miniature orgasm, and each time, he felt his mind shrink further and further away from him, until he was mooing and looing like a real bull, eager for his master to hook him up to the pumping station for the day, and drain him dry.

On Monday, Barron tugged the sleeve of his suit down self-consciously, did one last inspection in the mirror, and slipped out of his condo. Robert was leaving as he came out, but avoided making any eye contact with him. He couldn’t blame him, really–but he felt his cock slip a bit out of his sheath at the thought of how he’d fucked Rover’s hole on Sunday, while Master and Harrison had cheered them on. His balls gave a little squirt too, and looking down he saw he already had a stain on the front of his trousers from them leaking. This…this was going to be a challenge.

The door beside him opened, and Master poked his head out. “Shouldn’t you be betting to work, Mr. Bull?” he looked down, and smiled.

“I…I can’t go like this. Can’t you change me all the way back? Please? Just for work?”

“Then how will you remember that you’re my pet?” Master said, “Come in, I can do something else for you instead.”

A few minutes later, Barron left Master’s apartment, fiddling with his crotch, blushing profusely. A fucking diaper–he was wearing a fucking diaper. On the subway a bit later, to his horror, he felt his cock release a blast of piss into his pants as well–but true to his word, Master’s diaper sucked it all down. It seemed…hungry. Was it…a person too?

He pushed the thought away, and focused on getting to work. Keep Master happy, and everything would be fine, he told himself. Be a good pet, and everything would be just fine.

September Patreon Suggestions Ready for Download! | Wesley Bracken on Patreon

Magic Show (Part 2)

The magic show lasted about thirty more minutes. Max called up several more men to the center of the dance floor, taunting each of them with the dumbbell, all of them unable to lift it, and all of them suffering some slightly humiliating change as a result, though in Ethan’s opinion, none of the men suffered as much indignity as he had. The last volunteer came up–an older, pudgy bear–Max encouraged him to lift with all his might, and sure enough, he was able to lift it–and packed on quite a bit of muscle in the process. Everyone laughed and cheered, the final volunteers eyes bright, and the Max called the show to an end, the music returned, and everyone went back to dancing.

Ethan tried to keep an eye on Max as he left, but as short as he was, it was nearly impossible to spot the magician in the crowd–so he spent the next hour scouring the entire bar looking for him, shoving his way past people with his big round gut, becoming a bit panicked. What if he didn’t find him? What if he was stuck like this? He couldn’t go back to his life looking like this–no one would even recognize him! Finally, he spotted Max chatting up some bear at the bar, and Ethan pushed his way over, accidentally jostling the man Max was talking to. The bear shook his head quickly, like he was coming out of some daydream, gave the magician a strange look, and then left without another word. Max scowled down at Ethan, “What the hell man? I was working on him. He was gonna be my bear slave for the night.”

Ethan just stared at him, and then shook his head, not even wanting to know. “No, look, I just want you to change me back, alright? I mean, this isn’t permanent, right? It can’t be.”

Max heaved a sigh, “It’s such a pain in the ass when they remember.”

“What?”

Max rolled his eyes and turned to walk off, but Ethan grabbed one of his hands and pulled him back, “I’m not done with you! Fucking change me back!”

The magician didn’t say anything, he just glowered at him, Ethan met his stare…and immediately realized he shouldn’t have, because he couldn’t look away. “Someone should learn to be less pigheaded–still, I think that’s going to be hard for you from now on, eh?”

His anger turned to fear, as he struggled to break the gaze. It felt like an eternity before Max finally blinked, and walked off, leaving him standing there, shaking. What in the hell had just happened to him? He thought about trying to catch up, but he’d already lost sight of the magician again in the crowd. He needed to get away from all these people for a second, he needed to figure out what had just happened to him.

Even before he reached the bathroom door, he could tell something was wrong. His face hurt, for some reason–almost like someone had punched him in the nose, and it was swelling. At first he thought it must just be his imagination, but even in the dim light of the bar, he could see something pushing out into his field of vision. He pushed his way into the bathroom, which was empty, as far as he could tell, but he was too short to be able to see himself in the mirror. There was a bucket of cleaning supplies behind the door–he emptied it out, overturned the bucket in front of the sink and climbed up on it. It wasn’t very steady, and he was a bit worried that he’d crush it with his new weight, but he managed to get a better view of himself–and toppled back off the bucket with a surprised squeal.

Pigheaded was right. What in the hell was wrong with his face? He got the bucket back in position and climbed back on it, using the counter as support, and saw that, indeed, his face wasn’t looking quite human at the moment–his nose was indeed swelling, almost right before his eyes. His upper lip had pushed out, his nose becoming flat and wide and pushed out further along with his mouth, giving him a very obvious pig snout–though he still managed to keep the handlebar mustache he’d grown, making the whole effect look rather comical, even though he was terrified. His ears looked different too–they were larger, thinner, and pointed. As he watched, the left one grew too tall for it’s weight and flopped over in half, his right side following suit after a second more.

This was a nightmare–but then two things happened so fast that he couldn’t be sure which one happened first. He heard, behind him in one of the stalls, a very loud groan. Apparently, he discovered, he wasn’t nearly as alone as he’d thought he was. Secondly, he became aware of the most amazing, delicious smell that he’d ever caught wind of before. It wasn’t particularly clean–if he had been forced to describe it, he would have said it was something between a stale locker room and a slightly rotten egg, but he wanted it. Drool welled up in his mouth, and he swung his nose around, and decided that the groan and the smell must be related, and he had to know what it was that had him so…hungry.

He crept around the corner so he could see into the stalls–the doors were both open, but it was in the handicap stall that he found them. Two bears, both of them in leather, were poised over the toilet. One had his cock buried in the other’s ass, but the delicious smell wasn’t coming from there. Now, it was coming from the other guy, who was leaking cum onto the toilet seat below him, and the sight of it–all Ethan could do was resist with all his might, and keep himself stationary, transfixed on the man’s precum.

No–No, what the fuck was wrong with him? He backed away, hurrying to the bathroom door, but as he did, the craving became even stronger, and new pains started ripping their way through him, his snout pushing out further, his teeth shifting and rearranging, short tusks pushing out from his bottom jaw. He reached up with his hands to feel what was happening–but they weren’t hands–not anymore. His fingers hand begun to fuse and turn black, quickly becoming trotters, his legs growing shorter, his boots no longer fitting his feet. He grabbed for the bathroom door, but ended up tripping. His legs and arms were now the same length, and he landed on all fours, staring up at the door handle so far away, his nose still pulling him back around, towards that filthy smell…

Donkey Dick (Part 3)

It took Derek several minutes to even be able to determine that he was, in fact, awake. The last few…hours? days?…he had no idea how long really…it had felt like he’d been asleep, and yet aware of what was going on, somehow. Trapped in some strange limbo. Jude had been there the whole time, talking, putting…things on his body. He could remember it, kind of, and yet it also felt like some wild hallucination. He rolled over in the straw of his stable, trying to use his hands to help him up, and yet they were so stiff. He looked at them for a close to a minute, studying them. Why…why had he called them hands? He knew that he didn’t have hands. Hands were for people, but he…he wasn’t a person, he had hooves. Two hooves where his hands should be, larger than a fist, black and…shiny, more like rubber than something made by a body. The more he looked at it, the more normal they seemed, and the more he wanted to scream. Instead, he rolled over onto his hooves and knees, and then, unsteadily, pushed himself standing, feeling his knees bend…backward, nearly falling over as he tried to balance on his lower hooves, looking down at his naked body. His legs–and arms–were brown. The color of hair, and yet they were hairless, just…almost like he was wearing thigh and shoulder length latex boots and sleeves which merged perfectly with the edges of his still human torso.

He…he could remember this. He could remember something, something from while he’d been asleep. Hiss head felt like half of it had been replaced with plastic, thinking and focusing hard was giving him a headache, but he could remember, he could almost catch it, the sensation of Jude slipping something on his arms and legs, and he’d been..screaming? No, he didn’t scream, he’d been braying. It took him a moment that he was braying now, loudly and uncontrollably, his body shaking as he tried to understand what had happened to him, what was wrong with him. He was a freak, some fucking freak! Something between a person and a fucking donkey. There was a mirror on the wall, and the image he saw only filled him with more terror. The lower half of his face–it was like someone had fit a muzzle over his mouth–some rubber donkey muzzle–and then glued it to him, along with two, stiff rubber ears. He still had his eyes and hair, but a shiny, long brown face which he…he could move, which he could bray through, with shiny rubber teeth and a long, shiny tongue inside–

The door opened, and Derek spun around–nearly losing his balance, and found his Master had entered the room. No, not…not his Master just…Jude? He was…smiling at him. Why was he smiling? Couldn’t he see what he was? How ugly he was? “Calm down, calm down Derek.”

Immediately he felt his body ease off the panic, his constant, loud braying subsiding at the order, a flush of calm running through him.

“That’s better–I wouldn’t want the neighbors to worry. I do love your voice, but if you can’t learn to keep it down, I’ll have to find other ways to keep you quiet from now on.”

Derek tried to talk, tried to ask him what had happened, what Jude had done to him. Somehow…somehow he knew this was Jude’s fault, all of it, but all he could do was bray–nothing even close to human speech would leave his stiff, rubber mouth.

“I know, I know,” Jude interrupted him, “I’m sure you have questions. But you know what?” he stepped closer to him, “I had a whole speech planned for you, about why and how, but I…looking at you, I don’t, fuck, I don’t care that much, you know? Besides, it’s not like you’ll be asking questions for long. Once that muzzle and those ears fully integrate with your skull and your brain, you’ll be so stupid you won’t even know what a question is–just a perfect fuck animal, just like I’ve always wanted.”

The words struck Derek with terror, and he backed away from Jude into the wall, but his Master followed him, one hand wrapping it’s way around his massive, permanently stiff rubberized donkey cock. “Don’t worry, you’ll have a few more days to enjoy what remains of your humanity, feel it ebb away bit by bit–but you’re looking forward to it, aren’t you? You want to be an animal.”

Derek tried to fight it, tried to fight his suggestions, but his mind was no match for Jude’s hypnosis now. He…he did want it, didn’t he? Yeah, this…he wanted this. Master knew best after all, Master knew everything. And it did feel good, so good, having his big dick stroked. The pleasure was pushing all his other concerns away. He snorted and brayed, and when Jude bent over in the straw, Derek was helpless to resist shoving his huge cock deep in his well lubed ass, his pseudocum pumping away, as he did, rubber donkey balls pulsing and churning. Part of his mind, the little bit that could push through kept trying to gain traction, but he had no control. He could feel the rubber working against him, eroding his personality and memories, leaving only enough to obey his master and filling the rest with a primal desire to fuck.

Once Jude was satisfied–several hours later– he ordered his pet off of him and went to go clean up, leaving Derek alone in his stable. He’d been…trying to think of something. Trying to do something. But it was fading away, faster than he wanted to believe. Master brought him some food later, and he ate it, and fucked him again long into the night, and a few days later, he felt better. In fact, Derek didn’t feel much of anything at all. Just a big dicked donkey drone, ready to fuck whenever his master desired him.

Donkey Dick (Part 2)

“What the fuck do you mean, by ‘more of a glue that a lube’?! What the fuck did you put on my cock?”

“Look, you’re overreacting, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

Derek pushed back against Jude’s hypnosis, fighting to stay angry at him, as he hefted his cock in one hand. “Fix this. This isn’t my cock.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have even said anything, but no, I have to try and be reasonable every time–”

“Reasonable? You call this fucking reasonable?” Derek stalked forward towards Jude, reaching out to grab him, punch him anything, but with a word–a word he didn’t quite catch, he was frozen in place, Jude stepping out of reach. “This is all going to be just fine, Derek, I promise. After all, you want this just as much as I do, you just don’t realize it yet, but you will. Now, I’m going to count backwards from ten, you’re going to fall into your trance, and then we’re going to talk about this like adults, right? I really think that’s the best outcome here.”

Derek fought, as Jude started counting backwards. He pushed against the numbness, the sleepiness, creeping over his mind, putting him slowly to sleep, but just like Jude ordered, when he reached one, his eyes flickered shut, his chin hit his chest, his breathing deep and even.

“Good, that’s good,” Jude said, running his hand over his friend’s still hard, rubber cock, and then inspected it. It had worked better than he’d ever imagined, this living latex–he couldn’t tell where the rubber ended and the skin began at all–and the rubber even felt like skin…sort of. It was warm, but it was hard like a dildo–it had no real give like a real cock might. He could still feel cum leaking from his hole too–so it was more than functional. But what he needed was less resistance–much less. “Go sit down in the chair, Derek. You and I need to have a nice, long chat….and you know, maybe a few other additions might help you understand…eh?”

Nine…you’re rising up out of the darkness, back into your own body once again, and completely ready to wake up…and finally ten, you’re awake.”

Derek felt like he’d been asleep for ages, and he tried to push himself up from the chair. He had to get away, he had to get away from Jude, that was what he was trying to focus on, but his friend pushed him back down into the chair where he’d been sitting. “No…You…What did you do to me?”

“Everything you wanted me to do, Derek, just like you asked.”

Like he’d…asked? So Jude had fixed him? He’d given him his cock back? No…What had he asked for again? Everything was so fuzzy all of a sudden, but he looked down, and it was his cock…or was it? What cock was he even supposed to have? He gripped the thick shaft of his (new? old?) donkey dick, and felt his massive balls churning beneath it. Yeah, he felt them up with his other hand, his massive, low hanging donkey balls, churning with cum. He…He hadn’t really believed Jude could do it, but he had…and it felt so fucking amazing.

“How does it feel man? How does it feel to have the cock you’d always dreamed of? The one you’d always fantasized about? And those falls, brimming with donkey seed? Ready to spurt?” Jude got down and licked the shaft from base to head. It still tasted and felt like rubber to him, the same with the balls, but from now on, they would be perfectly real to Derek. The rubber sack he’d glued on over his balls would have absorbed his testicles by now as well, pumping out something not quite cum–just a milky, sticky protein substitute, but again, it wasn’t realness that Jude craved–it was size. If Derek needed it to be real, well, hypnosis would help him accept it.

Derek was trying to order his thoughts, but the pleasure coursing through his cock and balls kept shutting his mind down and derailing anything close to reason. He’d begun braying again, but that…that was normal for him. Had always been normal for him, when he got excited…right? Right? But if this was right, then why did everything feel so wrong? What had Jude done to him when he’d put him to sleep, just now? He could remember being…so angry, before, but now…now he was fine with it? With all of it? No…No, he was going to get the truth. He shoved Jude away from his huge cock, and stood up, shakily.

“No! Fucking…No!” he said, trying to get the urge to bray under control. “You did this to me because you…you wanted it. Not me. Not me! Now change me back, fucking give me back my cock! My real cock.”

Jude sighed, “Derek, don’t you get it? There is no going back for you. That rubber is you now–that’s what’s going to be your cock for the rest of your life. Don’t you get it? Why can’t you just be happy? Why can’t you just see how good this can be for the both of us?”

“Good? For both of us? I never fucking wanted this!” Derek screamed, “Fuck you, I’m getting the fuck out of here, I’m leaving, and I’m calling the fucking cops on your ass and…and uh…”

Jude had said something. That same thing as before, and his mind was shutting down. He fought towards the door, but the air felt like water, pushing against him, but before he fell, Jude hurried over and caught him, his hard rubber cock still jutting up towards the ceiling. “You know, I was hoping this would be enough for you, but you just refuse to be satisfied. I suppose we’re just going to have to make it even more clear to you, what you are, eh? I wasn’t planning on things going this fast, of course, but at least I’m well prepared.”

Donkey Dick (Part 1)

“Jude, I told you before, I just don’t want to, alright?”

“Come on, it felt amazing last time!”

“Maybe for you–I couldn’t feel anything in there,” Derek said, looking at the strap-on cock Jude had in his hand. He had no idea where his friend had even found it–it was massive, and shaped like (he assumed) a donkey’s cock. As far as dildos went, it was amazingly lifelike–the latex even felt like flesh, or what he assumed the flesh of a donkey dick might feel like. He had never seen one, but Jude–one of his friends-with-benefits, had confessed to a fantasy of being fucked by a donkey. Derek had been game once, but it had simply been boring for him–the strap-on might be life-like, but it was so thick that he got no pleasure out of it. Besides–it made him feel a bit…insignificant. However, now that he looked at it, this one seemed different from the last one he’d worn at Jude’s request.

Jude got excited, “No look–I did some investigating, and I found some more stuff. Look, there’s this specialty lube for strap-ons that can make it feel amazing for you and this dildo is made of a really special rubber that’s just as sensitive for you as it is for me, and I thought…well, I did some reading on hypnosis….”

“Hypnosis?”

“Well, nothing big–but I found some files that might help. You’ll think that the strap-on is your own cock–and your mind will make you feel things even though your body isn’t really. Between that and this cock, I promise you’ll have a good time.”

Derek was suspicious, but Jude was nothing if not persistent. He did eventually give in and let Jude use the strange, sticky lube on his cock and help him into the strap on–the plastic donkey cock hard and dangling between his legs–but he wasn’t interested in the hypnosis. Jude, however, seemed insistent. Derek said it would never work on him, but when Jude asked him to keep an open mind and parked him in front of his computer screen–the swirling patterns were…oddly captivating. He didn’t even notice Jude put the noise cancelling headphones on over his ears, words barely discernable through a subtle static that made him focus harder on them. A couple of minutes later, Jude wiped some spit from his slack lip, and smiled, stashing the specialty glue he’d used back in his drawer. The program would take a few hours–but he could wait.

***

“Hey, Derek…you waking up?”

He was, but slowly. What had just happened to him? He was sitting in front of Jude’s computer, and he could…kind of remember something about hypnosis, but everything was a bit fuzzy.

The chair was on wheels, and his friend pulled him back a bit, and came around in front of him. “How about we see how well that worked for you, eh?” Jude reached down, gripped the donkey cock between his friend’s legs, and Derek groaned. “How does it feel?”

“Fuck…it feels good…” Derek said, looked down, and for a second just stared at the strap-on…except he wasn’t seeing a strap-on. He was just seeing his cock. His long, thick, donkey dick. In his mind, he knew that it couldn’t be real, but with a tentative hand, he reached down to feel it, and to him, it looked and felt, like flesh. And it felt…amazing. He looked down, and he couldn’t see the straps running around his waist, but they had to be there, right? “How…how did you do that?”

“Hypnosis can be a powerful thing. Now come on–how about we give this big cock of yours a test drive?”

Jude had already lubed himself up and got on the bed, Derek lining his hard cock up and pushing it inside. Before, he hadn’t felt a thing, but this lube and hypnosis was amazing. It was like it was his real cock. He’d gotten the shaft halfway inside Jude’s ass, when the first bray popped from his mouth unbidden, and he stopped.

“What’s wrong? Keep going!” Jude said.

“But I just…did I just ‘hee haw’ like a fucking donkey?” Derek asked, but he did as Jude said, and kept pushing himself inside, another bray slipping out as he did, but rather than ask about it, he just went with it. It felt so damn good to fuck–every inch of his cock was so sensitive suddenly, and he didn’t last very long, before a massive spasm ripped through him, accompanied by a series of very loud brays that he was certain must have woken the neighbors in the next apartment over. Still, Jude wouldn’t let him stop–and it wasn’t like his cock would go soft anytime soon. He kept fucking until Jude shot a huge load onto the bedspread, and then they finally separated, and Derek started looking for the seam to the strap-on, so he could take it off. Jude saw what he was doing, and pushed his hands away.

“Don’t be so hasty…wouldn’t you like to keep it on?”

Derek started to say no, but as he thought about it, he realized…that he did want to keep it on.

“After all, it’s always been a fantasy of yours, hasn’t it? To have a big old donkey cock, instead of some small three inch thing like before? Doesn’t this just make you feel like such a sexy beast?”

“Fuck, it….kind of does,” Derek managed to say, a bray escaping from his lips as he spoke, “But what’s with the donkey noises? I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Don’t worry about those–you like making them.”

Yeah, actually, he kind of did.

No…wait.

“You…you fucking hypnotized me, and now, you’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

Jude did that thing where he looks innocent, but he was guilty as fuck, and Derek went back to trying to find the seam…but it wasn’t there. Or rather, he couldn’t see it. “Help me get this off, I have to piss.”

“You can piss through it by now, don’t worry about it.”

“What?”

Jude pursed his lips, “I…might have lied a bit when I said that was lube earlier.”

Derek just stared at him. “What the fuck have you done to me, you fucking asshole?”