Interactive: Porno Virus (Part 9)

Jacob and Tobias hadn’t had much luck that day–a few conversations with some other folks looking to talk to anyone willing, even a couple of mormon missionaries, and usually that was nice–even if they didn’t want to talk about religion after all. Jake and Tobias were from different parts of the country, but had formed a decent friendship on their mission trip due to their similar backgrounds–both of them had just graduated from high school and were taking a gap year before starting college, and probably getting married to the young women their parents were busy arranging for them back home. It was the closest the two of them had ever gotten to freedom, and even this brief taste was enjoyable–though rebellion didn’t come naturally to either of them.  After a few houses that didn’t even bother opening the door to them, they came to the Drake residence, where Harry was adjusting to his new, older body, and to his new desires the virus had warped him around.

The doorbell went off, and while the old Harry wouldn’t have even bothered checking to see who it was, unless he was expecting someone, this new Harry was horny enough that he was willing to try for anything. He opened the door, saw the two young men on the stoop in their pressed shirts and pants, their black ties, and he couldn’t suppress the leer that crept across the face. “Afternoon boys,” he said, “How can I help you on this fine day?”

“Afternoon sir,” Jacob said, “We wanted to know if you were interested in talking to us about the Church of Latter Day Saints?”

“Oh, well, I haven’t been to church is quite a long time boys, but it does get rather lonely around here–why don’t you come on in and have a glass of water at least, and we can chat a bit.”

Neither Jacob nor Tobias was really interested in chatting with the old man who’d opened the door–he stank, and there was something…sticky on his hand, Jacob noticed when he shook the older fellow’s hand, and Tobias flinched at the stench of his breath as well–but that was enough for the virus to slide into their bodies and get to work.

“There you are boys, have a seat on the couch there while I get you a glass of water.”

The two missionaries sat down on the couch in front of the TV, which was still playing a stream of disgusting gay porn more depraved than anything either of them had imagined possible. Jacob went to stand up and leave, but felt dizzy and hot. He tried to take a step, but faltered, and ended up slumping back on to the couch. Beside him, Tobias was feeling the same heat coursing through him, both of their foreheads beaded with sweat.

Harry returned with a couple of glasses of water he’d spiked with some shots of cheap vodka. “You boys do look hot–here, drink these down quick–you’ll feel better in no time.”

Both Jacob and Tobias took a glass, obeying Harry’s orders without even considering not doing so, and drank the glasses down. The alcohol rushed right to their head, making them feel even stranger, and again, Jacob tried to stand up, but Harry pushed him back down. “Now now, you look much too hot boy, let daddy help you out of those clothes there…”

Jacob tried to push him off, but he was too weak–Harry stripped him down to his underwear, and then tore that off as well, and Harry started groping his cock and sucking on his nipples–and as he did, Jacob felt something inside him…shift. He could feel his cock growing in Harry’s hand–not just growing hard, but actually getting larger–the same with his nipple, he was, when Harry pulled away–it was massive, and after Harry suckled on the second one, it was just as large as the first. “Yeah boy, that’s good–play with those for a bit, while Daddy gets your brother out of his clothes too, before he burns up.”

Tobias could barely fight as Harry pulled the clothes off him, and again, Harry attacked his nipple, and he felt a sharp spike of pain that made him jump–when Harry pulled away, he saw a metal stud in the nipple that hadn’t been there before, and Harry bit down on the other one, leaving a ring there as well. Unable to resist the desires running through his mind, Harry started biting Tobias all over, leaving studs and rings all over his face–in his ears and lips, in his eyebrows and tongue–and each time it happened, the pain was no less sharp…but a certain kind of pleasure was flooding him as well.

“D-Daddy, I–I’m making a mess…” Jacob moaned next to them, and Harry looked over to see that his sizable cock was leaking a steady stream of precum from the tip–and that his new, larger tits were leaking milk as well.

“Well go ahead and eat it, boy–it’ll make you big and strong.”

Jacob…didn’t want to eat it. He didn’t want to be here, he tried to tell himself that, but it was easier to…do what daddy said, and so he started licking the cum and milk from his fingers, and each drop he ate made his body swell larger and thicker, muscle piling on muscle piling on fat, and the larger he got, the hairier he became, the harder and harder it became to think about anything beyond…pleasure.

Tobias was more difficult. He tried to fight Daddy off, tried to get away, and so Daddy had to be creative. More rings appeared up and down the sides of his body, the insides of his arms, and the insides of his legs, thick, heavy duty rings that tugged on his flesh, and daddy strung rope through them, knotted his legs together and his arms to his sides, so that whenever Tobias fought, he could feel the rings pulling at his flesh, hightening his pain and his pleasure. Jacob fed his new brother his milk, watching Tobias swell larger and larger still, while Daddy sucked on Tobias’ cock, his slobber sliding into his genitals and swelling them to an obscene size, like they’d been filled with silicone and pumped larger and larger than humanly possible.

Tattoos appeared on them both, as Daddy warped their minds more and more, and by the end of the afternoon, both of them had completely forgotten who they’d been before this, but that samw religious fervor remained. But now, it wasn’t a godly church they served–no, they served a church of pleasure, and porn, and depravity, just like their daddy did. They worshiped every inch of Harry, every place where he walked, eager to do anything they could for him–Jacob a massive hulking brute, tits and cock perpetually leaking cum all over the ground, beastly and filthy tattoos running down his hulking arms and across his chest. Tobias was smaller, somewhat, with tattoos all over his body, including his face, cord run through the rings that were driven through every limb, every movement tugging on them, making him moan and grunt with delightful pain at the sensation.

As evening died, daddy sent his two boys out into the world, but with a new mission–to corrupt any man they came into contact with, and to spread their new dogma of perversion to them using whatever means they had at their disposal. Harry, however, had a different destination in mind, and he drove off to seek out his own ends.


Alright, so there’s two options for Harry here, and two others that suggest we should follow either Jacob or Tobias in their new forms. Depending on how I’m feeling, I can try to get to each of them at some point, but we’ll see if I can keep it up! Here’s the bonus Patron poll as well!


Percy the Dollman (Patron Request)

This week, we have a rather strange request for some extreme body modification and plastic surgery! Percy, a wealthy narcissist, runs across an obsessive plastic surgeon, and the results are, well, have to be seen to be believed, I suppose. If you support me at the $5 tier or higher, you can get access to this story, others like it, and the ability to submit requests yourself each month!

Arctos: Mall (Part 5) [Interactive]

Marvin swung around the corner of the concourse, and looked around. He didn’t want to run into another shopfront, and the mall wasn’t busy enough yet to really have much of a crowd that he could disappear into. A short ways down, he saw a little alley in between two stores–probably for an emergency. He might get lucky if he hid there, and be able give the older guy who was chasing him the slip–or if the guy spotted him, he might be trapped. He decided it was worth the risk, and ducked into the little side path and around another corner–where there happened to be a couple of restrooms. He heard the sound of pounding boots as the clerk raced past his hiding spot, not even noticing that Marvin wasn’t out there to pursue anymore. He didn’t have a lot of time here really–the guy was bound to double back at some point and check everywhere a bit more thoroughly–but he had a couple of moments to look at his loot, if nothing else.

He pulled the ring out of his pocket and turned it over in his hands. He…didn’t really know why the thing had caught his eye in the shop–in fact, it hadn’t even been that expensive. He could have bought it, if buying things was what he liked to do. He tried it on his ring finger, but while it seemed to be the right size, it slipped right off into his palm again when he removed his fingers. He tried a larger finger, one he was sure would work, but again, it just…slid right off, almost like the thing didn’t want to be on his fingers…but that was ridiculous. It was just a ring–it wasn’t wanting anything.

He ducked into the restroom proper, where he could get a bit more light. In front of the mirror, he bent close to study the surface, looking at how…colorful the unadorned steel seemed, somehow. He bent closer, his face almost in his palm, when the ring moved suddenly, of its own accord, and latched itself onto his septum.

He hollered in sudden pain, a bit of blood running down his upper lip where the ring had pierced him. He grabbed onto it and gave in a tug, trying to get it off, but the ring was unbroken–he couldn’t find the joint, or the latch, or anything to show how it might come off of him. He tugged hard, and noticed that already the pain had died down–the piercing felt…normal, suddenly, like an old wound, not a fresh one, and as soon as the blood had started, it had stopped running entirely. He looked in the mirror, and sure enough, his nose was fully healed–what in the hell was going on with this thing?

He began to feel a bit…woozy then, and he felt another sting–in his lip this time. He saw a new ring burst out of his lip, wrap around, and join itself under his skin, and a barbell in his eyebrow followed soon after. He started scrambling then, trying to claw the metal out of him, but there was nothing he could do–the harder he gripped them, the larger they seemed to become, and they only multiplied–spreading over to his ears, and then down the rest of his body, where two metal rings appeared in his nipples, and lastly, a thick gauge PA in the head of his cock.

He pulled off his shirt to inspect them, but it wasn’t the rings that shocked him the most–it was what was happening to the skin around the rings on his chest. It was…ink–tattoo ink, he thought, but it was swirling, like in a pool, underneath his skin spreading out in a multitude of color, with no discernable pattern. It kept spreading out, down his arms, down his chest, up onto his neck, and when he opened up the fly of his pants and looked at his cock, the same ink was spreading there as well, and down onto his legs.

Before he could do anything else, however, the door to the bathroom opened–who was it who found Marvin in there?


Here’s the next poll! And here’s the bonus poll for patrons as well!

The Dangers of Smoking (Original Version)

Originally published 07/09/2007

Here’s another old one, also over ten years old. It was originally broken into two parts, but I broke it up into a few more for ease of jumping around, if there’s a particular section of the story you might want to revisit. This one in particular is heavily indebted to an old Peircedskin story, “One Man’s Rubbish”, which is worth a read if you haven’t found that gem before. Also, as an odd lore note, while there is no mention of Pigtown in this story, the Rod character is this story, and the “Rod” character who owns Pigtown in most of my later works, are all versions of the same character–who is the person listening to The Wizard’s tale in “Losing Control.” I had a series of something in mind to explain how Rod got from point A to point B back when all of this started that never panned out, but this early set of stories are all loosely connected together regardless.

Table of Contents


Part 1 – A Chance Encounter With Rod

Vincent peered into his closet, unsure of what he should wear to his meeting. Mr. Mathews was one of the most important clients of his company, and he had to make a good first impression. Finally he pulled out his blue navy suit and laid it on his bed, getting out of his standard work suit to change. After stripping, he paused a moment to look over his body. His 190-pound, six-foot frame was smooth and muscled from many hours at the gym and with a shaver. Even though Vincent hated to workout, and hated breaking a sweat even more, he knew how important it was too look good as a company representative. After going to the gym, he would immediately shower, he couldn’t stand being dirty for any long period of time. He also hated the hair on his body, and trimmed most of it off except for his pubic bush. His apartment reflected this tidy attitude, and Vincent spent almost all of his time at home cleaning everything. Any of the girlfriends he had had left after a few months because they couldn’t stand his constant cleaning, but Vincent didn’t mind, it was easier to keep everything clean when he only had to pick up after himself.

He pulled out his ironing board and pressed his shirt and pants, then put on his suit. He picked up his other clothes and tossed them in the dry cleaning hamper, and then found the appointment book where he had written down the location of the meeting. Mr. Mathews hadn’t wanted to come to the office for some reason, but Vincent was ok with that so long as he got a bonus for sealing the deal. Flipping through his notebook, he saw that he had written “Bremerton Pub, 6 p.m.” under Thursday with an address in the harbor district he had looked up online earlier. Vincent felt his stomach turn at the thought; any pub in the harbor district wasn’t going to be anything like the upper class soirées he was used to. But the customer was always right, so he climbed into his car and drove downtown.

Continue reading “The Dangers of Smoking (Original Version)”

Losing Control (Original Version)

I’m hoping to publish a longer story once a week or so, but I know that I won’t be able to always have sizable new content for you all. However, one thing I have been wanting to do for years is organize all of my stories in one place with a more comprehensive tag/category system, so this is the beginning of that project. When I don’t have a new story to post for the week, I’ll go back in my archives, clean up an old story, and repost it here. I’m going to be starting off with some stories that I haven’t touched in a very long time–like this one! My first story, almost twelve years old! Like a small child. Almost a teenager even. A story that is also a tween. I think this is now sufficiently weird.

In addition, for some of these, I’m planning on working on fixing up some of the writing, and also potentially extending them. I already have an extended rework of this story is process in fact. Some of those enhanced versions will be published here, others will be for Patron eyes only, depending on how I feel about them. I do want to preserve the original work, however, so I won’t be cleaning these archive versions up too much. The writing is a bit…well, it was twelve years ago! I was trying very hard. In any case, some of you might not have ever seen these stories, and others might like to revisit them, and now they will all be in one place, eventually! Hooray!


(Original version, published 4/22/2007)
I’m not a fan of destroying peoples’ lives, but sometimes they just deserve it. Being a wizard, it’s important to not lose control and let your power go to your head. Of course, I feel that I have a certain duty however to assist other people in realizing that they shouldn’t let their power go to their heads either. For example, do you remember Mike, the quarterback?… No of course you don’t remember Mike, Jerry’s the quarterback now and always has been. Let me just tell you a story then. Let’s say that there was this guy on campus, and he was a quarterback, and very popular, with a great body. All of those things would give a guy a lot of power, right? And a reasonably good person might use that power to do something good, right? You know…instead of picking on a wizard just because he would rather read a good book of spells than spend hours at the gym grunting like an ape, right? Well let’s say Mike wasn’t a reasonable good person, and that he did pick on a wizard, and that wizard felt like Mike was out of control. Or perhaps he had to much control. So all I did was make him lose a little. Ok, so it wasn’t really a little, but let me get to the story.

Mike had just got home from a frat party where he had a wonderful Saturday night. Not only was there plenty of beer, but the girls had been almost as bottomless as the stockpile of kegs as well. If he counted right, he had made out with ten, gotten blowjobs from six, and fucked two. The girls went crazy over his six foot three, 230 pound chiseled body, and blue eyes. Of course, he may have lied to a few of them, like when they asked if he loved them. He didn’t, but their bodies were damn hot, and that’s all that mattered to him. He unlocked the door to his apartment off campus and stepped inside. Dodging a pile of old pizza boxes, he threw his coat onto the couch and stumbled into the kitchen for a final beer before going to bed. He should clean up his apartment, but he didn’t really care that much. We wasn’t here most of the time anyway, he reasoned. He opened the fridge, pulled a can out of the 12 pack box, and sat down at the table, shoving a stack of papers aside to make room. One of them fell in front of him, and as he picked it up, the salutation caught his eye, “Dear Mike, the asshole jock.” He read the first line a few more times, thinking it was the beer, but there it was, written in script on a piece of plain paper. Curious, he went on the read the rest of the letter:

Continue reading “Losing Control (Original Version)”

New You Resolutions (Part 10) [Interactive]

Leroy didn’t really know what he was doing on stage, or why he was there. The year had been a blur really, especially as his intellect continued to diminish once he’d entered his Master’s service. By now, he could barely remember that he had ever been someone different before all of this–it seemed…crazy that he could be someone smart, someone with any kind of authority at all. He wondered what all of these men were doing, as the MC told the audience to begin voting–maybe one of them would…take him home? Maybe he’d get to service them all…that…that could be hot, but it wasn’t his place to want things. He would take what he was given, and it would be good enough–that was a lesson he’d had to learn the hard way.

The MC looked up as the first decision was made by the audience, and he perked up in some surprise. “Well,” he said, “It looks like Leroy here is going to get a second chance–or a bit of one at least.”

Leroy…had forgotten that was his name. But when he heard it, more began to come back to him, more memories, more knowledge, more…sense of himself. He didn’t forget what had happened to him over the course of the year, of course, but all of his old memories and knowledge were restored to him–and if anything, that only made everything worse. He…didn’t want it anymore. It had been so easy! Just being a slave, not having to think about anything other than his Master’s orders, but suddenly he could think about…everything, and he could remember how he had behaved for so long…and he hated that person he’d been.

He’d been cruel for no reason, and there were so many handsome students he should have been…servicing this whole time…right? He knew that wasn’t quite right, that his head, even with all of his knowledge, was still faulty–but he hadn’t lost any of his new desires or fetishes–and in fact, when the next decision popped up on the board, he was going to have quite a few more to add to the already sizable list.

His master, over the last year, had subjected him to all sorts of kinks–but for the most part, Leroy hadn’t really enjoyed any of them. The most important part of his world was service–he…wasn’t doing any of this to feel pleasure himself, he was doing it because submission was what he deserved. But now, memories of his master tying him down and whipping him, of fisting him, of feeding him his piss…those were all things he had wanted…right? He could feel his cock struggling to get hard in his cage, something it hadn’t done in ages, and he was…embarrassed by this sudden loss of control, and went to hide it from the crowd, not wanting them to see it…but if they did see it, maybe they would punish him. He…did like being punished. He deserved it, and he also…did enjoy it.

As he struggled with these new desires, his body was changing as well, as the third decision came up on the screen–that Leroy’s already substantial body modifications were going to become…even more extreme. The first thing Leroy noticed was that, even though he wasn’t getting hard anymore…his cock was still swelling. He pushed down the diaper he was wearing, and the cage popped off after a moment, and he could see that his cock wasn’t getting hard–no–it was…swelling up with silicone. His cock was growing wider, the head disappearing inside a sheath of taut flesh, and his sack swelled so large that he would never be able to hide it, no matter what he wore. He touched his cock, for the first time in nearly a year, and felt…nothing much at all. It felt like his cock was trapped…inside of itself, and he realized the cage hadn’t really disappeared–it had just changed form.

In addition to the silicone, the filthy tattoos he had gotten on his body over the last year multiplied, until nearly every inch of skin, even on his face, was covered in lewd words and designs. The piercings grew in number as well, and also in size. After a few minutes, he realized that he had become a total freak…and that he loved it. He pulled the filthy diaper back up, seeing how swollen it was around his inflated junk, and all he wanted was…was for someone to use him.

But no one in the audience wanted him–instead, he spent the evening servicing any man who was interested, and when morning came, he…had a new vision of himself. He would be a teacher, of sorts–he would go find his old students and give him a new education, show them how to treat a faggot freak like him–whether they wanted to learn, or not.


At last, it was time for the fourth and final subject. Hugh emerged from the side of the stage, wearing his coach uniform, and feeling…terrified. He had just watched three other men all warped even further into their new forms–and he…he didn’t that to happen to him. He just wanted things to go back to how they’d been–he’d do better! He…he was tired. Tired of working at the school all day, and then having to service his bratty son all night…the stage hands shoved him out, and the MC announced him to the audience, and he awaited his fate.

Alright, here’s the final poll for this interactive! We’ll wrap up Hugh’s fate next time, and start a new interactive story of some sort next week! Here’s the final patron only poll as well!

Digital Manipulation (Part 7) [Interactive]

PJ knew it was a dream, though how he knew that exactly, was difficult for him to explain. It didn’t feel any different to him than real life, but it had felt like he’d been in a dream for ages, now. So long, he was beginning to doubt that he would even be able to wake up–so long, he didn’t even know what he could wake up as, anymore. So how did he know this was a dream? Because he wasn’t anywhere. It was just dark. He was standing, but he wasn’t standing on anything. He was breathing, but there was nothing to breathe. He could see, but there was no light that he could tell.

“Oi! There ya are mate.”

He spun around at the voice, and discovered that while he wasn’t anywhere in particular, he was no longer alone. There, standing in the nothing space with him, was someone else–and while it took him a few moments to catch on, he realized he was looking at himself. At a version of himself. At another version of himself…right? The similarities were obvious–both of them were huge–roided out with muscle, with prominent guts, their cocks and balls grown to obscene proportion, as where their chests and asses, which had been given implants as well. The differences though–they were so very different.

His doppelganger–his head and face were completely shaved–as was the rest of his body. It the place of the hair he had, tattoos and piercings covered his body–but it was the piercings which horrified PJ the most. They were everywhere–not just in the usual places like ears and nipples and noses. No, he had loops of metal dotting his flesh, running down his arms and legs, barbells were implanted in his gut in a spiral out from his belly button. The hoops were threaded in some places with twine and chain, in other places they were left unadorned. He took a step towards PJ, and he could hear the metal shake like some musical instrument of torture. “No–no, that’s…I’m not going to let you.”

He tried to run, but as he turned, he felt some awful yank on the head of his cock. He looked down, and saw that the massive, doorknocker sized ring running through the head of his double’s siliconed cock had somehow pierced his own as well, hooking them together. “Don’t worry Mate, it ain’t gonna hurt too much, trust me–you’ll love it anyway, soon ‘nough.”

He stepped closer, and the Jacob’s ladder running down the underside of his cock drew his own closer, and he felt every pin slide into his own flesh, until their cocks were completely connected from root to tip, jutting up between them. “Please, please, not this, I’m not you.”

“Not yet, ya ain’t,” his skinhead double said, “But come a little closer now, and let’s see about that.”

PJ raised a hand to strike him, to try and push him away, but the skinhead’s arm raised at the same time, and the tattoos running down his arm lashed out, wrapping their way around PJ’s arm and binding them together. He couldn’t help but be tugged in, and their gut’s touched, and every barbell spiralling around his gut joined to his, fusing them together, the tattoos sliding onto his body, the ink caressing him, and he shuddered, feeling the flesh of their cocks beginning to fuse together, phasing into one another until they were joined at the groin, one singular, and massive, cock jutting to one side, as their guts began to fuse as well.

“Gettin’ closer. Feels good, don’t it, mate?”

“Fuckin’ get off a me!” PJ shouted, but the skinhead lunged at him, spearing his tongue on the thick barbell through his own, tugging his face into his own, and PJ cried out as the rings, studs and bars in his doppelganger’s face all stuck to his own as well. He tried to move his arm…but he couldn’t feel his arm. Looking to the side, there was just one arm now–the skins, though it seemed…bigger and meatier after absorbing his.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be huge together, ain’t it gonna be great, mate?”

It took PJ a moment to realize that he shouldn’t have been able to hear the man’s voice, since their mouths were stuck together–no, he was hearing his voice in his mind, and it was getting louder, even as his own was getting quieter and quieter. The skin wrapped his spiked arm around PJ’s back and pulled him closer, pulled him into his body, and PJ lost sense of himself. There weren’t…really two of them, were there? Had there ever been two of them? All he felt was a sense of vertigo for a moment, and then he awoke with a jolt, looking around him, trying to figure out where he was…but he was right where he was supposed to be.

He was lying on a few sheets beside his master’s bed, where he slept every night. He wanted to get up, he wanted to see, but he couldn’t risk it. If master knew he was awake, he’d be punished…not that he minded being punished, of course, but Master could be…rough in the morning, before his coffee. It wouldn’t be the first time PJ had been confined to bed, his arms laced to the eye hooks running up the sides of his body, the barbells on the insides of his legs laced together as well, bound up in himself. Still…that dream. There was something he needed to remember, or someone he needed to remember, perhaps. It was all foggy now, and almost gone from his memory. He laid back down, and soon he was sleeping again until morning, when his master roused him with a boot to the ribs, and told PJ it was time to get the day started.

*

Trax, in his VR set, had taken on the roll of PJ’s skinhead master, and spent the next few days putting his heavily modded and warped ex-boyfriend through his paces, making sure everything was nice and cemented in this new version of him. All in all, he was very pleased with the result…but at the same time, he was a bit disappointed. As much fun as it was playing with a copy of his ex, what he really wanted was the real thing–but with this copy of his…well, there were a few ways he could have some fun with him in the real world, if he got close enough.

*

This next entry will be the finale. Below are a few options Trax could use to bring this copy of Perrion out into the real world. Choose the one you’d be interested in seeing.

  1. Trax downloads the copy into an artificial body, and has the copy rape the real Perrion.
  2. Trax kidnaps Perrion and replaces him with the copy. Together, they enjoy warping Perrion’s body into a twisted version of itself.
  3. Trax implants the copy into Perrion’s subconscious, and let’s his ex’s new subconscious desires slowly ruin his life.

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