(Caption) Pig Rehabilitation Program

October Caption Challenge (9/31)

“MMmm…MMmfffff…” Officer Barrett said, trying to get something out from around the gag strapped in his mouth. A curse, a cry for help, anything at all. He’d woken up here a few minutes before, tied up in his uniform, unable to remember how he’d gotten here, or who had taken him. The last thing he could remember clearly was getting ready to police another one of those fucking protests, but on his way, well…someone must have jumped him.

He heard steps coming down the stairs into the basement, and a couple of young men in black with their faces covered, stood in front of him. “Well, Officer Barrett–we got a hold of your records a while back from an info dump, and we were amazed. I didn’t know someone could wrack up so many complaints from the public, and not face any disciplinary action at all.”

Barrett scowled at them. Sure, he had a rough hand, but it was punks like this that deserved it. One of them picked up a strange looking helmet, and placed it over his head. He couldn’t hear anything in the room, once it was settled in, but noise was piped in through headphones in the sides. “Don’t worry, we’re only interested in rehabilitation. You’re going to be helping us, Officer, perfect our method for turning the most hardened, violent, cops into upstanding, obedient citizens. Now relax, Officer Barrett, just relax…”

There was a burst of color in front of his eyes, a thick kaleidoscope of color dazzling him, making it impossible to focus, streaming in even if he tried to keep his eyes shut. The noise was deafening in his ears, white noise, but he was sure he could hear words too. He tried to concentrate, tried to resist, but he found himself drifting off–and then, eventually, he wasn’t in the basement anymore. He was…well, he wasn’t sure where he was.

He sat up, looked around him, and found he was in an alley. It was dark, there was the sounds of chanting and music not too far off, sounding like the protests that had been happening nightly in his city. He’d…been attending them hadn’t he? He tried to remember more, but it was like there was a blanket of noise, or fuzz, over his memories. He stood up, feeling…younger than he thought he should be. He was shirtless, and just wearing a pair of leather shorts–and tattoos all over as well. What had happened to him, exactly? He left the alley, turned the corner, and found himself face-to-face with a police officer, but not quite right either. His riot gear was gone, and he just had on a leather uniform, a beard longer than regulations allowed, and a cigar clamped in his mouth. 

“There you are, you fucking piece of shit,” the officer said, and before Barrett could do anything, he was on the sidewalk, hands yanked behind him painfully, and cuffed. “Thought you could hide from me, eh? Well, I know what you need, even if you don’t, you fucking pig.”

“Pig.” That word reverberated through him, somehow. He…he was a pig, wasn’t he? People had called him a pig before. But…but that wasn’t quite right, none of this was right. He tried to ask what he’d done wrong, why the officer was arresting him, but all he got instead was the officer’s baton wedged in his mouth and pulled tight, while the officer came up behind him, rubbing his stiff bulge against the back of Barrett’s head.

“I thought you pigs knew to remain silent,” the cop said, “Well, at least until the screaming starts.”

He had Barrett pinned to the sidewalk then, one boot on the back of his neck, pressing hard enough to make him gasp, and with the baton, started pounding on his ass, the sharp sting even penetrating the leather shorts he was wearing. But the pain–it hurt, but it also felt good. It felt good because he deserved it. Because he’d been a bad pig, a naughty piggy, yeah…

When the simulation was done, Barrett’s mind rebooted, processing what it had seen, and then began again, while the two young hackers watched. Starting off with the protest scenario was, perhaps, unfortunate, but the scenario would change slowly, as more and more of Barrett’s mind was rewritten with the code being pumped into his mind by the headset. They anticipated that rehabilitation would take a week, but much to their delight, Officer Barrett–or rather, Pig Barrett, as he preferred to be called, was ready to be reintroduced in just five days.

He thanked the two young men for helping him understand his place in the world, and happily worshiped their cocks, their feet, their holes, and begged them both for loads from their own–his own cock perfectly soft in the chastity cage he now wore. After all, pigs didn’t need release like that. They got their pleasure in other ways, in servicing their betters, in acts of worship. In two days, he was in his new home, servicing a proper Master, and the two young men took their bounty and funneled it into their research. There were still a few kinks to work out, and then they’d have to scale it up–but they had no doubt that before too long, their plan to abolish the police would be well on its way.

Caption: Bodysitting for my Great Uncle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh fuck, more than anything.”

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

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

Arctos: Mall (Part 9)

Ken didn’t know how much time had passed for him, before he woke again. He was still in the gurnery he’d been in before, but he was in a different room–one without the machines observing his vitals, and the IV drip into his arm had been removed, and was bandaged up. He could still remember lying there in pain, Harris looking down at him from the side of the bed, and then he had passed out–he hadn’t woken up once since then, that he could recall. Had it been hours? Days? There was no window, and no clock–the room just had a mirror (most likely a one way mirror, he supposed), and a door, but he felt too exhausted to even try and sit up.

Something had happened to him, to his body. He could tell that much, just from how much everything still ached, from his face and mouth and nose, down to his legs and ankles. There was an odd smell in the room as well, something…like a barnyard, as well, and he could still hear the nightmarish cries of terror and pain coming from all around him, but they seemed sharper, or perhaps closer, than they had been. Finally, he lifted his head, looked down at his body, and screamed–or at least, he tried to scream. The sound was just as inhuman and horrifying as every other noise surrounding him in this place, but there was no other reaction he could have had, to the nightmarish body below him.

His torso was thicker, almost the size of a barrell, and was covered in thick, brown hair. The same with his shoulders and arms, and the muscles were so thick now. He raised one paw to his face, and from the short black claws, and the black pads where his palm had been, he realized that his arms, and his chest, were that of a grizzly bear. Below that, attached to his hips, the long brown fur shortened and grew mottled, a lighter brown and white, with thick legs and rump, all the way down to two massive hooves where his feet should have been–like a minotaur.

He swung the heavy legs off the side of the bed and sat up as best he could, facing the mirror on the wall, and there he could glimpse his new face as well–small beady eyes, a pig’s snout, heavy brow, floppy pink ears, with two bull horns also coming out from his temples–short, perhaps, but from the pain in his skull, they might still be growing. That left his cock, which had begun to slide out of his sheath, corkscrewing as it did, but massive–with a huge set of bull balls swinging below, and a bull’s tail swishing behind him on the bed.

Tentatively, he stood up, trying to figure out how to balance on his new feet, and when he did, the mirror in front of him clarified into a window, and there, watching him, was Harris. The rage that boiled up in him was terrifying, even to Ken, and he charged forward, slamming his horns into the barrier, but all he did was bounce back, and fall on his rear. Harris laughed–he could hear him through the intercom of the room, and then he said, “Well, pet, I must say that you’ve exceeded all of my expectations, and I think you’ll have a buyer, as soon as we tame you. Just relax–the faster to let go, the more I might let you keep of that old self of yours, instead of just reducing you to a stupid, docile beast.”

The mirror returned a moment later, and then it became a screen, projecting a series of colorful swirls and spirals, and before Ken could look away, his eyes were sucked into the pattern, his mind disarmed as words poured out of the intercom, telling him was a stupid beast he was, that he wasn’t human, that he was meant to service men, that he was a pet, that he was obedient, that he wanted to be this way, treated this way, abused this way, that he deserved it. Harris just watched, groping his cock, and went down a couple cells to one of the beasts well along the way towards being fully conditioned for release, and fucked the desperate animal, pleased with his newest acquisition, and eager to see just how readily the thing would debase itself for Harris’ pleasure.

I think this will be the end of Arctos: Mall for a little while, though I might revisit it again in the future. There will be a short intermission for interactives–I’ll have a new one to start next week!

The Cop Next Door (Caption)

When I found out that my new neighbor was a cop…well, let’s just say I knew I had found my next target. He was a handsome fella, tall, with a shaved head and horseshoe stache, twice divorced, hated faggots, a real man’s man, or at least, he was. I had a feeling he’d be having a change of heart soon enough.

I got to know him, and befriended him easily enough. Me, the salt and pepper daddy, disarming charm, strong handshake and intriguing stare. I took a few weeks to get to know him, delve a bit, see how…amenable he was going to be. His apartment was always a bit of a mess–aside from one thing. He always took exceptional care of his uniforms–he respected them more than he respected himself, in fact.

The first time I took him under, with the help of a sedative I slipped into his beer, I just let him sleep, relaxed, while I went in and tried his uniform on. I was a bit bigger than him, but I could make it work–and I was so hard, thinking about my plans, that it was very hard resisting the urge to blow my load right in the crotch, and leave it there for him to find later. I did keep wearing it while I took him deeper, telling him how handsome I looked in his uniform, how manly it made me. How every man in a uniform deserved his respect, and his complete obedience.

Next, I started breaking him down. He was a slob. He was weak. He found himself starting to look at gay porn on the internet, these cop videos, and he’d…crave them, being stripped of his uniform and forced to service his fellow men in blue, knowing that he didn’t really deserve to wear the uniform at all, deep in his heart, because he was beginning to suspect that he might just be a faggot. After all, what real man would let a woman leave him twice? He’d never been able to perform, never been able to control them…because he was the one who should have been controlled the entire time.

I haven’t had him service me while he’s awake yet, but we’re close. Every day, I come over and put him under, I get into his uniform, and make him service me in his grungy, filthy, cum-coated underwear. He’s started to put on weight recently–not something I told him to do, but it makes him look even more worthless, so I’m encouraging it, that as he wrecks his body, he’s going to look less and less like the real man he always though he was, and more and more like the cum hungry faggot he’s going to be from now on.

He’s probably going to quit the force soon. He’ll lose too much of his nerve, he won’t be able to see himself as one of the officers surrounding him…but I know he won’t lose his appreciation for the uniform. After all, he’ll believe he lives next door to a handsome, rough daddy cop–one who loves having the fat faggot from next door over to worship and service him, cleaning his boots everyday, and going back home with a load of cum in his ass every night. Eventually, I’ll wipe out all trace from his memory that he had ever even been a cop, and I’ll help him find a history more…fitting for a worthless faggot like him…but that’s for the future. For now, I’m just enjoying my faggot cop’s lips around my cock, and looking forward to all the fun we’re going to have.

Masturbation Workout [Pics]

Evan didn’t want to be fat, but he also didn’t really want to do anything to lose it either–or at least, nothing that felt like work. He was a slacker, and a gamer, and as far as he was concerned, being fat was just the price he had to pay, in order to live the life he wanted. He worked an easy job from his apartment as an editor, and spent the rest of his downtime gaming–well, that and masturbating. He didn’t exactly have much of a sex life, since he didn’t even leave the house most days, but he liked his hand more than the few women he’d been with anyway.

Of course the ad seemed too good to be true. “Lose weight doing what you’re good at! Jack off and lose the pounds at the same time!” The first time he saw it on one of his porn sites, he laughed out loud, and didn’t think about it again, until it kept popping up. Eventually, the curiosity got the better of him after a quick wank session, and he clicked on the ad just to see what it was offering–and the site seemed to be just that–jack off to their porn stream, and the pounds would literally cum right off. There was no explanation of how in the world this was supposed to even work, but the site did offer a free trial…so the next time he got horny, he accepted the offer, and after a moment, the site started a slideshow–a rather…rapid one, and one which contained only men.

The site hadn’t given him an option for whether he wanted gay porn or straight porn, but this definitely wasn’t what he was into. He tried to close the window, but it refused, saying he hadn’t finished his workout yet. He spent another minute trying to escape it, and then he found himself getting drawn into the slideshow, and then, a minute later, he had his cock out, and was happily masturbating to the men on the screen.

He lost track of time–and of how many times he shot. He also didn’t think about where he was shooting, he just kept unloading all over himself until, at last, the slideshow stopped, the site said he’d finished his workout, and told him to subscribe. Only after he’d put in his payment information, and signed up for a daily workout regimine, did he finally come back to himself, disgusted, and horrified to find he’d been masturbating for nearly an hour straight. One thing he knew for sure, was that he was never going anywhere near that site again–he closed the window, and went to take a shower, unaware that he was a couple pounds lighter already.


But Evan quickly learned he didn’t have much of a say in what he did with that site, now that he’d subscribed. Every day, he’d get a notification reminding him to workout, and unable to stop himself, he would navigate to the site and watch another slide show, jacking off constantly, only regaining control after the session had ended. To his horror…he actually found himself enjoying the sessions. He’d finish them, covered in cum, and feel a…rush, or a high, and just loll in his own cum, rubbing it into his clothes–no longer bothering to shower after. The results were apparent after a couple of weeks. He really was losing weight, and he could barely believe it. It seemed like a price he was willing to pay, and so he kept at it–but then things started getting…strange.

The workouts got longer for one thing. One hour became two, two became four, four would occasionally be six. The men in the sideshow were changing as well. At first, it had been fairly generic men, models, pornstars…but lately, they had been taking on a certain different flavor. Skinheads featured prominently, as did men in workwear. Grungy men, dirty men, piss play and rubber and leather. He was hornier outside of his workouts, and would search out more porn like it to jack off to, thinking about what it might be like to shave his own head…until he came to from a session and discovered he was totally shaved, from head to toe.

More changes came, usually during longer sessions. Tattoos in particular. He was getting rather trim now–he could barely believe it, how much weight he’d lost in a few months. His old clothes had disappeared, replaced by new gear that better fit his new body, all of it like the gear he saw on the skinheads on the screen. To his pleasure, even as his cock and balls had…grown. His balls especially–each was the size of a orange now, and he leaked almost constantly. There was no longer a time when he wasn’t horny–gaming was no longer of interest to him, all that mattered was self gratification. 

Well, that, and the men on the screen.

They were all of a similar type now. Fat, dirty skinheads, mean fuckers, covered in tattoos and piercings, wearing leather and rubber. He found himself admiring them, envying their size. Imagining himself on his knees, licking their guts and cleaning their boots, drinking their piss. The knock on the door startled him one evening–he hadn’t left the apartment or seen another living person in weeks now, and he had no idea who it could possibly be. He…knew he had to answer it though, and who he saw in the hall took his breath away.

“Hey mate–nice tah finally meet ya. I’m your sponsor–or rather, your…”

“M-master,” Evan muttered.

“Exactly,” the huge brute said, and pushed his way inside. “I think you’re done with those silly workouts now–how about you get some experience with the real thing?”

Medical Trials (Part 4)

~~~A Few Months Later~~~

Evan pushed the janitorial cart down the hall, and into the last cell on the hallway. The room was filthy, but he knew better than to ask questions about what might have happened in there–he could smell some cum, shit and piss, but there was more blood than anything else. He stripped the bed and shoved the still damp, but cool sheets into the laundry bag, and then started cleaning up the walls.

He’d been working in the Trinq labs as a janitor for…for as long as he could remember, which wasn’t really that long. He wasn’t exactly smart, and most everything failed to keep his interest, unless it had to do with his job, cum, or his boyfriend. He wiped down the mirror, looking at his face with disinterest. It still wasn’t quite…familiar to him, but that didn’t really matter. It was his face. How he felt about the face wasn’t important. How he felt wasn’t important. Feelings weren’t really…possible anymore anyway; all he ever really felt was calm detachment. It didn’t matter how he felt, all that mattered was that he did what he was told. He looked at himself anyway, through the red streaks. His head was perfectly smooth, just like the rest of his body. His hair had all fallen out–even his eyebrows–and none of it had grown back, not even months after his final injection. No longer strong and angular, his face was round and soft, cheeks puffed out and drooping, chins and jowls like pliable wax, eyes distant.

The rest of his body was similar. He’d shrunk substantially in the final round of tests, dropping from six foot three down to about five feet tall, even as he’d packed on fat. His weight had stabilized at 325 pounds, now that he was no longer receiving injections, but it hung off him in flaps and rolls, his grimy coveralls, grey with the Trinq logo on the breast, bulging and heaving with each movement. His balls were gone. They’d shrunk smaller and smaller until they simply ceased to exist, and his cock was less than an inch long, and completely numb to all sensation. He no longer felt like a man, really. He felt like something else entirely–genderless, perhaps, but not a woman either. Just a drone, or an object. Something unimportant. Something that existed to be used, like a tool.

He cleaned the room, hoping there might be a bit of cum he could eat, but while he could smell it, the blood was everywhere, leaving him disappointed and hungry. The room was clean in a few hours, and he checked his watch–his shift had ended fifteen minutes ago, so he wheeled the cart back to the janitorial area, threw the bloody sheets down the chute to the incinerator, got out of his jumpsuit and burned that as well, and back into his street clothes, before clocking out.

He left Trinq’s building, and walked to the bus stop. He’d grown used to the stares by now–everyone he passed could tell there was something wrong with him, that he wasn’t supposed to exist, that he didn’t fit into their usual categories. More than once, he’d been cornered by men and pummelled in alleys on the way home, but he didn’t mind that much. The longer men were around him, after all, the more likely they would feed him their cum. That was something he’d learned rather quickly–that something about him, either how he looked, or how he smelled, made men want to use him as a cumdump. He could imagine that might make a normal person feel humiliated, but Evan just felt something resembling gratitude. He liked being something that had a purpose–he liked being used.

There was no incident like that this evening, though he sat next to an older business man on the bus, and after a few minutes, the man pulled out his cock, and ordered Evan to suck it–he was happy to have a snack, at least. He got off at his stop, and walked the few blocks to where he lived with his boyfriend, Adam. But Adam wasn’t really a boyfriend, in the same way Evan wasn’t really a man any longer.

Adam worked as a police detective–in particular, he’d taken over the caseload of a certain Evan Timmons, who’d committed suicide earlier that year. He didn’t really work for the police, however. Or rather, he worked for the police, but he also worked for Trinq Inc.–burying cases, funnelling prisoners and inconvenient witnesses into experimental drug programs, destroying evidence. In return, Adam had been receiving samples of several new drug therapies from the company. He was already home when Evan arrived–he could smell him in the second bedroom of the apartment, which was where Evan slept in a cage, and where Adam worked out. Evan stripped out of his clothes and went and found his master, smelling him, hungry for his cum. Adam was naked as well, his extremely hirsute body matted with sweat, foot long cock half hard and leaking on the floor. Evan got down and began cleaning up–sweat, cum, piss, anything his master left behind as he continued his workout, not paying any attention to the thing following him around the room. Adam might have felt a twinge of guilt, at one point, but power and strength was more important to him now. In truth, Evan disgusted him, but also terrified him. Trinq’s executives had made it perfectly clear to him who Evan actually was–and that if Adam ever betrayed them, that he would suffer an even worse fate at their hands than the blob Officer Timmon’s had become. Trinq wasn’t about to let anyone stand in their way of power either, after all. They were going to change the world, whether people wanted them to, or not.

Features & Bugs (Part 3)

The office was small, and the man’s desk had been against a wall to the side. The man was there in his chair, staring at his computer screen–his shirt was unbuttoned, his fly too, and he was jacking off. Something was playing on the screen, some video, but at the angle I was crouched at, I couldn’t get a good look at anything other than him…and something was wrong with him. When I’d helped him the day before, the guy had been young, slender and wiry, clean shaven and hairless as far as I could tell. Looking at him now, I wondered if my memory was simply wrong, or if something else had happened to him. His body had grown larger, more muscular, and was much hairier than I would have expected. He had more than a five o’clock shadow–somehow he’d grown a short beard overnight. He must have been older than I’d thought as well, because it was flecked with grey, and I could see his hair receding slightly. But then something else happened, something I knew I couldn’t explain as easily as all that.

I could see him in profile, and he twisted towards me slightly in his chair. For a while I was focused on his cock–easily the same size as the dildo I’d had in my ass the night before, if not a bit larger. But something else caught my eye as well, something happening on the gut he’d grown overnight–there were lines on it. Black lines. I thought they were a shadow, but shadows didn’t move like this, they didn’t…grow. They were forming shapes on him, which I didn’t recognize at the time. The sight was enough to jolt me away from the crack–I stood up and slipped the door closed again…and only then did I realize I’d had my cock out as well, jacking off while I was watching him, right here in the damn hallway! Thankfully no one had seen me; I zipped back up and fled back to the IT department, where I ran into Austin. I tried to tell him what I’d just seen, but couldn’t get the words out, once he started toying with me. He ended up fucking me in the bathroom stall, and then suggested we get an early start on our weekend, and I was only too eager to agree, and what I’d seen had slipped to the back of my mind.

I…don’t remember much of that night. We had dinner somewhere, but I was so horny all I could think about was getting back to his place for sex. He told me he had a present for me, sat me down in front of his computer, and showed me a twenty file movie collection, he had queued up for me…and I watched all of them, in a row, all night long. Most of them had that same pig in them, but some had others. They were all pigs too, but some were different. One had a fat pig bound up, getting stuffed with food. Another pig got whipped, and spanked, and pierced, and bloodied for over an hour. Always there was piss. Always there was rubber. Always there was humiliation and abuse. Always, there was this odd…flicker, that I noticed on occasion, but it never held my attention for very long. I didn’t sleep once. I think I remember Austin leaving me there and then coming back. In the morning, he set a heaping plate of food by me, and I devoured it with one hand and stroked off with the other. In my mind, I’d gone from admiring these pigs, to identifying with them, experiencing their humiliation and abuse vicariously, and then, I actually started to feel like I was one of them. Like I’d entered the videos myself, like I was watching videos of things that had happened to me. I ate again, at some point, and eventually, Austin turned off the videos, and the only sound in the room was me snorting, the sound of me groping my pig cock.

“That’s better pig,” he said, “You feeling more like yourself now?”

I didn’t know how to answer that question, but his cock was there, and just seeing it made my mouth drool. I swallowed it, sucking hard, and a minute later my mouth flooded with piss for the first time, and I drank it down, the taste so familiar even as the newness of it struck me. I felt different, I didn’t feel like me, but I didn’t know how to explain it in terms anyone might be able to understand. The flow slowed, and he went back to fucking my face. He was brutal, choking and gagging me, but I just took, enjoying the roughness, enjoying being treated like a pig like me deserved to be treated. The first time I thought of myself as a pig, the first time I realized that’s what I was, I came with a huge grunt, I was so happy to have figured it out!

Austin didn’t cum, he just pulled out, and told me that he wanted to go out that night. He’d laid out a few outfits on the bed, and he wanted me to pick what I wanted to wear, we’d eat, and then head out. I got up from the chair where I’d been sitting for a day–it was sopping with piss and cum…I must have been sitting in my own filth this entire time, but for some reason that didn’t bother me. I didn’t even think of taking a shower–I just lumbered down the hall to the bedroom, and there, sure enough, were a few sets of clothes: a business suit, some shorts and a t-shirt, and finally what looked like a collection of rubber gear. I made a beeline for that of course–why would I want to wear any of that other stuff? It ended up being a rubber singlet, black with a red accent up the side, like a tuxedo stripe, and the ass was open. It had seemed…big, when I started putting it on, but when it was finished, it actually seemed a bit small. I pulled on some black army boots to go with it, and felt…good, surprisingly. Sexy even. I’d never felt sexy in my life, I’d thought, what in the hell was wrong with me?

Oh man, when I look back, I mean, there’s just one thing I can’t believe–I was such a drag man, just a total lame ass motherfucker. I mean, look at that, look at that saggy fucking body–that used to be me, before I learned how to have fun. Damn, it’s so lucky that I found that self-help program online, because man, that helped me turn into the fun guy I am now.

I mean, the first thing I learned–and I learned it real quick, was that one of the best fucking ways to have fun is to work out. I didn’t believe it at first, and I mean sure, it was hard work too, especially when I first started out, but pretty soon, fuck I was having so much fun at the gym! I mean, it was getting to where I didn’t want to leave some days, I’d just keep working out the whole time.

And jobs–fucking jobs, am I right? So not fun. Man, I quit mine, I mean, sure, I had to find some kind of income, but luckily the program hooked me up with this real fun fucker. I just live with him now, and he pays for my gym membership, and he taught me so many other fun things! Fuck, like how much fun it is to look like a freak, and get yourself tatted and pierced, fuck–I’m gonna get my whole body done eventually, I can’t fucking wait. And man, I have so much more fun now that I’m dumb as a fuckin’ brick. I didn’t need those fuckin’ brain cells anyway, they were just holding me back.

But you know what’s the most fun of all? Sex. I fucking love sex. I’m a fucking addict. Think you could fuck me with this dildo while we keep talking? Man, that would be so much fun. Come on, I you look like a total bore. I should give you a link to that website–I think that would loosen you up good. Just think, before long, you could be having as much fun as me!

Man? Dog? Slave? Spike didn’t even know anymore. How much time had passed in these labs, with these drugs and suits and videos? He couldn’t figure out any of it anymore, sure, he looked like a pup, didn’t he? It was just a mask, a voice in his head kept saying, just a rubber suit the doctors made him wear, but it…he couldn’t remember having any other face, and if it was a mask, shouldn’t there be a face underneath it?

And he couldn’t walk on two legs anymore–how could he be a man, and not walk upright? He tried, god, he tried every night in his kennel, but he just couldn’t balance. It felt so much more natural on his hands and knees, so much more comfortable, wagging the tail stuck in his ass, licking the doctors’ hard cocks, smelling their piss when they marked him as their property.

And now…well, he could barely understand them anymore, they were just talking gibberish. Sure, he knew his name, ‘Spike’, and ‘sit’, ‘stay’, ‘suck’, ‘fetch’, ‘dildo’, all the normal words like that, but nothing else. Maybe…maybe he was just a puppy. Yeah, just a rubber puppy, a happy horny, rubber puppy slave, happy horny rubber puppy slave happy horny rubber puppy slave happy horny rubber…

God damn it–another fucking email from that nasty pervert across the hall. Why the fuck does he keep sending me shit like this–and he attached a picture, what–

Oh fuck, master’s so fucking sexy, gotta jack off, gotta cum, look at that fuckin’ belly, just wanna lick it clean, bury my fuckin’ face between those fat tits, feel the fur scrape across my face, worship his fuckin’ body, his pits, his feet, his crack, suck that cock of his until he blows a fuckin’ load–fuck, I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I love you master I love–

Oh, that’s right, he wants to return that stuff he borrowed the other day, I guess I can go over and pick it up real quick–I just hope he doesn’t try to fuck with me, because I’ll beat his ass into the floor.