“Well, I’ve always been a believer that size matters,” the shop owner said, “I like a long cigar–thick ring–I’ve always felt they were the most satisfying. Still, I know it’s a matter of taste. These are going to be too small for a guy like you though, I promise.”

“I’d still like to try one, if you don’t mind,” Jed said, a bit annoyed at being sold up, but the owner just cut the short cigar Jed had selected and lit it. Jed took a couple of puffs before he let out a yelp, the cigar dropping to the floor from his mouth, and both of his hands went around to his ass. “What the fuck?”

“Sure, it seems big when it goes in, but here, let me show you,” the shop owner said, quickly undoing Jed’s belt and dropping his pants and underwear, before reaching around and sliding the four inch, slender buttplug out of Jed’s ass, “See? Way too small.”

“What the fuck was that thing doing in my ass?” Jed said, but the owner had already picked up the smoldering cigar from the carpet and put it out, before retrieving a foot long cigar, as thick as a beer can from behind the counter, “Now, this will definitely fit you better.”

Jed tried to fight him off, but the owner shoved the cigar in his mouth and lit it, and as soon as he inhaled, he nearly screamed through the cigar. Something massive had materialized in his ass, and the owner peeker around him and chuckled, “Well well, I guess you’re into baseball, eh?”

The man bent Jed over the counter and started working the metal bat in and out of Jed’s wrecked hole, and while he protested for a while, after his first orgasm, Jed started enjoying it–even relishing it–especially after the owner took out the bat and replaced it with his fist, driving it deep into his now starving hole. When the owner finally let him stand upright again–Jed’s suit was gone, replaced by a leather harness and vest, the words “FIST ME” tattooed across his lower back, with a huge ring hanging from the septum resting on the massive cigar he hadn’t finished smoking yet. Jed, unable to stand the empty ass, grabbed the scummy bat from the ground and worked it back up into his hole with a groan.

“I think I’m gonna need a few dozen of these ones, I think,” he said around the cigar, “Size really does matter.”

“See? ” the owner said, “I told you,” and rang up the sale.

You like the smell of my piss ‘n cum in that toilet, don’t you, boy? Yeah, you probably didn’t smell it right away, but look at how horny it’s got you already. Can’t stop, can you? Don’t worry, I don’t want you to stop, and you obviously don’t want to stop, so why don’t you just keep on jacking off for daddy?

Bet you didn’t even hear me come in here last night, eh? You were pretty damn drunk, I doubt you remember much of anything. Thought you were all alone, waking up, going in to have your morning piss, and now here you are, jacking off, one of your fingers probing that sweet little hole of yours. Yeah boy, you remember me at all? I was at that club last night, watching you, smokin’ my cigar. Here, why don’t you have a taste? Go on–take it easy though, you don’t have the lungs for a full draw yet. Fuck yeah, so fuckin’ hot, watching that smoke billow out that mouth of yours. Give it to me, gonna suck the smoke out of your lungs, boy.

Sweet, fuckin’ sweet. So, how’s that hole of yours? Gettin’ loose? I bet you need something better than all those fingers, eh? How about some daddy dick? The dick I’ve been savin’ for you all night long. Gonna fuck you right here on the toilet boy, over this nasty swill of our piss ‘n cum. Go on, smell it boy, take a deep breath of that funk, our smoke, or piss…just let it relax you back…that’s it.

See that wasn’t so bad. I’m all the way in ya boy, all the way up this hole of yours, and from that load of cum you just sprayed, I think you like it. I have a feeling we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together from now on–you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You can come over to my place, and we can work out together, father and son, getting all pumped and sweaty and musky, plenty of cigar and fuck breaks. Gonna have you stinkin’ and smokin’ like a good muscle jockboy soon enough. Now suck that cigar–daddy needs focus on fuckin’.

Just keep in mind that everything is bigger in Texas.

Terry looked at the note he’d found with the package he’d dragged in off the doorstep, and set it off to the side, before opening the box and finding a pair of black leather cowboy boots and a black Stetson cowboy hat, as well as a second wrapped package below them, with a note that simple said:

For later.

It was a rather big package too, about a foot long and cylindrical, but he set it aside, and pondered over the boots and the hat. He certainly hadn’t ordered anything like this from anywhere, so why in the world had they ended up on his doorstep? He pulled them out of the box and was struck by something else–they were big–way bigger than anything he could wear. Checking the boots, he saw that they were size nineteen, and out of curiosity he put the hat on his head, and it sat all the way down, nearly covering his eyes, and he had about an inch of room on both sides of his head.

“Aww damn, who ‘n the hell sent me this shit? Ah can’t wear nothin’ this big…” Terry said, and then clasped his hand over his mouth. Where in the hell had that drawl come from? “Wh–Why ‘n tarnation am Ah talkin’ like this, I ain’t even been tah the South…”

He looked down at the boots again, but realized they weren’t just any boots–they were his boots. There was no reasonable way they could be, but he recognized them, and almost like he was sleepwalking, he slipped off his sneakers and slid the boots onto his feet, feeling all of the space down in there, and how wrong it was. “Damn, Ah always thought these fit better ‘n this…” he muttered, but as he did, he felt a strange heat in his feet, and let out a cry as they swelled up, filling the cowboy boots to capacity, and he tumbled back onto the couch, unable to balance, and felt the heat sweeping up through the rest of his body.

His legs pulsed and expanded with muscle, his bones burning as they lengthened, growing longer and heavier, his hips shifting, giving him a naturally wide, slightly bow-legged stance, his shorts splitting at the seams and falling away from his hairy legs, his underwear barely hanging on, even as his cock throbbed and expanded, growing to nearly a foot in length, and as big around as a beer can. “Awww fuck yeah,” Terry drawled, and hauled out his cock, stroking it as the heat raced up his body, his chest and gut packing on muscle and fat as his spine lengthened, making him even taller, and then down his arms, packing on huge biceps and thick forearms, even his head expanding until he had to reach up and readjust his hat, which now perched perfectly on his skull, but now he was so turned on, he couldn’t stop jacking off, but something was missing–something important.

He pushed himself up off the couch, now seven feet tall and close to four hundred pounds of muscle and fat, the entire room out of perspective. He tromped over to the now small package and pulled out the final item, ripping away the wrapping and pulling out a cigar which would have been massive to anyone else, but in his hands it was merely normal. It lit itself as he held it, and he took a deep draw off it, jacking his cock as he smoked shooting a huge load all over the box, and chuckled.

“Everythin’s bigger ‘n Texas, eh? Guess they weren’t kiddin’.”

“See? I told you you’d like cigars–you’re manly enough for them,” Bruce said, watching his roommate, Phil take a deep drag off the cigar, still dressed in his suit from work, his eyes starting to glaze over a bit as he moaned. A five o’clock shadow sprouted up on his smooth face suddenly, and Bruce couldn’t help but run his hand along it, watching him shiver.

“Fuck–I feel so…”

“Manly? Butch?” Bruce finished. He was slender and smaller than his roommate, and he got down on his knees in front of him, unzipping the front of his suit, pulling out Phil’s cock and he sucked it down. Bruce tried to stop him, he wasn’t gay, and he’d had no idea Bruce swung that way, but when he tried to push him off, he grabbed Bruce’s hair instead and started fucking his face roughly, inhaling more and more of the smoke. “Fuck…boy…”

“No,” Bruce said, pulling away, and looking a bit annoyed, “Not your boy–I’m gonna be your son.”

Phil just stared at him, his stubble now a beard, his suit fitting awkwardly against his body, which was bulking up with muscle and fat as he sat there. His head was foggy too, and it was hard to think about anything other than how much he wanted to fuck Bruce right now. “Get–Get back down there and finish me off, you fucker…” he said gruffly, in a voice an octave too deep.

“Nuh uh, not until you say it. You know you want to be a daddy, right? You want a son you can abuse, a manly son like you are. You don’t want a skinny twink like me, do you?”

Bruce leaned in closer and ran a finger down the thickening shaft of Phil’s cock, and unable to help himself, he waited until after Bruce had inhaled off the cigar, and then grabbed the sides of his head, and locked lips with him, sucking the smoke from his lungs. Phil didn’t really know what was going on, but he let the smoke pass between them, feeding it to his roommate, and then felt Bruce push back into him, back and forth for who knew how long, until Bruce finally let go and stumbled back.

Phil did a double take–Bruce looked completely different–in fact, he looked like…he did. He was shorter, but much stockier, growing out of his own clothes, and seeing him lick his lips…his son lick his lips, Phil growled and stood up, ripping the clothes off him, and sucking on his son’s neck, marking him, feeling him squirm, and then he shoved him down on his knees. “Suck it, son–suck daddy’s big cock.”

My Apprenticeship Part 1

Working for a contractor wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I graduated from college, but even with an engineering degree–something I’d thought would be helpful in the job market, the only thing I could find were mountains of “unpaid internships.” I’d honestly only applied to the posting on a whim, and when I’d met with Ivan, the owner of the company, a brash, stocky man with a heavy gut and many tattoos, chuffing on a cigar, I’d thought I’d never get the job when he referred to me as a ‘weak little college pussyboy’. Still, he called me the next day and offered me an apprenticeship for minimum wage, and…and I don’t really remember why I took it. I didn’t really want to work for him–he seemed like a total asshole–but by the end of the conversation I was agreeing to start the next day.

The crew was working on remodelling a house, and the first thing I noticed was that everyone he employed stank like a fucking urinal, or maybe a bar bathroom. It was kind of disgusting. Still, the day progressed pretty normally, but it was hard work. I had always been a bit of a wimp, maybe even on the edge of underdeveloped, but it was a job, and I tried my hardest, but still, I could tell Ivan was growing frustrated, and he dragged me off about halfway through the day into the bathroom, and we had a chat.

He knew what I needed, you see. He just wanted to help me man the fuck up. We had a real nice conversation, but still, I didn’t know if I wanted to go through with it. I mean, sure, drinking a real man’s piss, like Ivan’s, would help me man up–make me stronger, make me hairier, more mature, but I didn’t want to drink his piss…did I? That was crazy. Ivan, however, grinning around his cigar, just pulled out his dick and started pissing into the toilet, and I watched it go, and it was such a fucking waste. I needed that piss, I needed it to be strong, and I was on my knees, drinking down as much as I could, and then he left me there to drink the toilet bowl dry, desperate for every drop I might have missed. I needed this job, after all, and I couldn’t keep it if I didn’t become a real man, and quick.

To be Continued…

Always Take Care of Your Toys

by Wesley Bracken

Commissioned by Boreas

Inspired by a comic by Kuma

Kuma’s Comic: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (requires an account on FurAffinity with adult images unblocked in order to view)

Warning: Furry and inanimate themed story. It get’s a bit strange, but I bet you’ll all like it anyway.

***

“Come on, take your shirt off.”

“Ha, well you’re not wasting any–hey, hold on–ok, ok, you don’t have to rip it off me–hey watch the horns.”

“He, aww fuck yeah, here’s those titrings of yours,” Kuma said, tugging on the rings through Boreas’ nipples, “Looks damn good on you–so glad you finally got up the balls to come over and have some fun.”

The two big guys were on the couch in Kuma’s apartment, with the bear taking up most of the space. He had Boreas cornered against one side, one paw tweaking the bull’s nipple while he took a deep breath off his cigar, and then kissed the bullbear with the smoke, making him cough and sputter after a moment. “Take it easy man, I’m not a smoker.”

“We could change that, if you want,” Kuma said, grinning, his fangs showing slightly, “I got this special mask–you could smoke all night long in it–it’d be so damn hot. You’d be a cigar smoker for life.”

“Sounds…uh…fun?” Boreas said, his eyes flicking to the door. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected when he’d finally taken the bear up on his invitation to come over for a play session. Sure, their chats and role play had always been fun, but now that he was here, and now that Kuma was getting into it a bit deeper than the bullbear had expected, he was starting to get nervous. “No, you know what? I’m not really all that comfortable with this,” Boreas said, and he started trying to work his way out from under the bear, managing to slide through a gap and onto the floor with a thud, “Can we maybe take this a little slower?”

“Heh, someone getting cold feet? Come on, I don’t bite that hard, and I know you’ll love it. How about you just try it on?”

“No, look, I think…can we just hold up here? I know we talked about a lot…of stuff…” Boreas said, blushing a bit, “But uh…what exactly did you have in mind?”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to be my toy,” Kuma said, getting up off the couch and coming closer to Boreas, “You told me how hot it would be to come over here, not tell anyone where you were going and let me do whatever I wanted to you. I know that’s what you want, boy.” The bear came up, grabbed the front of Boreas’ khakis, and with a growl, ripped them open down the front, destroying his boxers as well, letting his’ cock flop out, and he looked down, noticing that the bullbear’ was blushing a bit. “Heh, with all that fur and big talk, I thought I’d be bigger.”

“Sh-Shut up!” Boreas said, and backed up a few paces. Sure, he didn’t have the largest cock, only about four inches, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be made fun of for it. “Look, I’m…I’m gonna go. I don’t like where this is going.”

“Oh no–you said you were going to be my toy, and I’m gonna hold you to that, cowboy, one way or another.” Kuma said, smiling again, and this time Boreas noticed something else–the bear’s paw was glowing…green. He backed away, but missed the door and collided with a chair, tripping him up long enough for the glowing paw to grab his cock and balls in one hand and send a strange, electric jolt through them that made him cry out in surprise, tumble back over the chair and hit the ground with a thud hard enough to dislodge his cock and balls from his crotch, sending them flying over his face to land on the carpet behind him.

He blinked for a moment on the ground, wondering if he’d gotten a concussion. His legs were still up on the chair that he’d tripped over, and he could see that where his cock and balls had been was just…nothing. Just a hole, or really something more like a socket. And his fur…the fur around his groin looked different…well, he wouldn’t call it fur at all really. It was smooth and had a dull shine to it, and tentatively he reached down with one paw and touched it, realizing it was rubber. But he could…still feel his claw against the surface, and he could even dent it if he pushed hard enough, the sensation making him shiver.

“Heh, looks like you dropped something buddy,” Kuma said, walking past him and over to where his cock had flown when it had dislodged itself from the socket. He stooped down and picked it up, and Boreas let out a yelp–he could feel his cock in the bear’s paws from across the room, and he quickly rolled off the chair and stood up, a bit uneasily. “Finders keepers, I guess,” he said, running a claw down the shaft, watching the bullbear moan softly as he did, “Still, this thing is a bit too small to do much of anything with. Maybe we can find you a few other things to fit in that socket there? I’m seeing…something thick, over nine inches long. What if it was ribbed, or even studded? Dang, that’d be a fun ride.”

“What–what the fuck did you do!” the bullbear said, doing his best to be outraged when all he could really focus on was how…nice it felt, having the bear stroke his cock, “Give…give that back!”

“Oh?” Kuma said, and he started stroking the cock in his hands, fiddling with it’s balls, and Boreas tried not to collapse. The sensations were so much more intense, but looking at his cock and balls in Kuma’s hands, he could see that they were different–they were rubber too, like his groin. If he hadn’t known better, he’d just have assumed that they were a lifelike dildo, if he…couldn’t feel everything that the paws were doing to them. “Are you sure you want them back? It looks like you’re enjoying what I’m doing quite a bit. Do you really want me to stop?”

“I…I don’t…” he stammered back. Kuma was stroking his cock faster now, and Boreas felt his knees crumple and he hit the floor as cum started spurting from his rubber cockhead, shooting a few feet and hitting the wall where it ran down to the carpet and ran down slowly while the bear laughed, Boreas trying to catch his breath and he pushed himself back up to standing on his hooves and teetering a bit, grabbing onto the chair for support. Kuma was looking at the bullbear’s cock and balls, the later of which had shrunk quite a bit after shooting out that massive load, and the bear started squeezing them in his paw, milking the last bit of cum out of the shaft, watching the bullbear cringe in pain.

“Looks like you’re all empty man–too bad,” Kuma said, “Wonder if we can fill ‘em back up?”

“Please, no–just…just give it back, please.”

“Heh, if you say so,” Kuma said, “Catch!”

He lobbed the cock towards Boreas, who noticed too late that his cock and balls were shrouded in the same ill green aura Kuma’s paws had exuded when he’d touched his cock. Still, it was his cock and balls! He couldn’t just let them fall to the ground. He caught them in his paws and felt the same shock rip through his hands that he’d felt in his cock, and he watched his hands puff up suddenly and harden into rubber mitts incapable of holding anything, and he fumbled with his cock for a moment before it tumbled to the ground anyway, and he stared at his rubber paws in terror, watching the rubber showly work it’s way up his arms, his fur flattening into the same smooth rubber of his crotch, and he realized he needed to get out of here, and fast. He turned around and hurried to the front door, but all he could do was squeak against it as he tried to unlock the deadbolt and work the knob before his arms turned completely rigid, freezing in place as his shoulders and chest turned to rubber, and he stumbled back, still desperately trying to move his arms and unable to comprehend why they wouldn’t respond.

He could still move his head and his neck–the rubberization seemed mostly interested in working it’s way downwards, through his chest and past his nipples, his rings staying put, and then down past his ass and to his legs. Wherever the rubber went, soon after his skin changed it quickly lost it’s pliability, becoming hard and rigid in whatever position he happened to be in. He tried to get away, but his legs were turning to hard rubber faster than he could move, and he fell forward to the ground, his body giving out a squeak of air as it decompressed from the impact and then inflated again. It was the strangest sensation, feeling the air rush out of his mouth before sucking back into him. He could sense his hollowness, actually. He felt…empty. It didn’t feel right at all, he should be full of…of something other than air–than a vacuum–but what exactly he needed was eluding him. He just felt so strange, and he tried to crawl down the hallway, away from Kuma for a couple of moments, but his hooves had already frozen and he was trapped, contorted on the floor, his entire body rubber aside from his head, his body empty, and he heard a laugh behind him.

“Looks good–how does it feel, Boreas?”

“Fuck you.”

“Ha, you mean, ‘fuck me,’ don’t you? You don’t even have a cock to fuck with,” Kuma said, coming up behind him and slipping two fingers into his ass, pushing their way down the short rubber channel and into the emptiness of his body, and Boreas gave a short inhale of pleasure. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Don’t you just feel so empty though? We’ll see if we can help with that. Still, how about we warm you up a bit?”

Boreas couldn’t see what Kuma was doing, but he heard him take a deep drag off his cigar and then get down behind him, where he put his lips against the rubber hole and exhaled hot smoke into the bullbear’s body. It really was warm, and he shivered and moaned, his cock pulsing and leaking out a small remnant of his cum where it lay back on the floor, forgotten by them both. Kuma filled him up with lungful after lungful of smoke, and before long it started coming out of his mouth at the other side in wisps as he shuddered and moaned, feeling Kuma’s long tongue probing up his ass, but he needed more than smoke inside of him, it was like some unknown hunger was eating away at him, and it was frustrating him that he couldn’t understand it.

“Heh, well that’s enough of that. How about we move you into a…more accomodating position, eh?” Kuma said, his hands glowing again. Underneath them, the hard rubber of Breas’ new body turned pliable again, and the bear started bending the arms and legs into a new position, leaving Boreas on his rubber paws and knees, head facing forward, and as a final touch, Kuma grabbed his long bull tail, bent it back and attached the tuft to the small of his back. “There–now you even have a handle,” Kuma said, “Now, how about we take this into the bedroom? I’m horny, but I don’t think you’re quite the toy I’m looking for yet.”

He grabbed him by the tail loop and lifted him up off the ground, and he felt a sense of vertigo as Kuma carried him down the hall and into the bedroom. He was so powerless all of a sudden–he couldn’t move, he didn’t even have a body anymore. Still, that was…that was good, right? He didn’t need a body, he was just a toy, just…just a toy for Kuma to use. He did like being used. He’d always…always fantasized about being just a dumb toy, just a hunk of rubber…Boreas shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they kept sneaking their way into his head, making him hornier, intensifying the hunger he still didn’t understand, the need to be filled which was beginning to panic him. He had to be filled, he needed something. If he was empty for much longer, it was going to drive him crazy.

Kuma set the toy down on the floor of his bedroom, and then looked around, thinking, “Oh, of course! Your cock and balls, how could I have forgotten.” He left the room for a moment and came back with Boreas’ cock and balls in his hand, or rather, his cock. His sack had shriveled up, now completely empty, and hung down like an empty balloon. “Hmm, looks like you’re all empty–guess we should fill you back up, eh?” Kuma walked over to his closet and dug around for a few moments before he pulled out some sort of pump attached to a large, clear tank which Boreas could only assume was either milk or semen, and he didn’t really like either option. “Lucky for you, I have quite a few guys I like to play with who are…well, let’s say that they have a bit of an addiction problem when it comes to my cum. I like to keep plenty on hand for when one of them drops by, needing some assistance. Still, let’s see what we can do here…” Kuma said, fiddling with the root of Boreas’ cock, before fitting it over the nozzle of the hose connected to the tank of cum, and then Kuma flipped a switch, the machine started up, and Boreas watched his balls inflate, filling up with Kuma’s rank cum from the machine. He set them down on the bed, and the bullbear had a hard time tearing his eyes away from them, watching them fill up fuller and fuller…

“Please, Kuma…Come on, just let me go, I won’t tell anyone, I swear, but…but I’m so…so empty, please just…I don’t…just let me–” Boreas said, but before he could finish, the bear ran a green glowing claw around his lips and then down his neck, rubberizing his throat into a smooth chute, his lips pursed and ready to take a cock.

“That’s better–toys don’t need to talk after all. Now, while that’s filling up, how about we get you dressed? I did have some gear I wanted to see you in tonight, and it would be a shame for it to go to waste.”

Kuma dug around in his closet some more, and all the bullbear could do was watch his balls slowly fill up. They were quickly outpacing his cock, making it look even smaller next to them, as they passed the size of an orange, and then a grapefruit, and then a small melon–each. They looked so full–he’d like to be as full as they were. Sloshing with cum, bulging with it, packed full of it. That’s what he needed–he needed cum. He needed to be brimming with it, all of him, and now that he knew what he needed, it was almost worse, and he found himself growing desperate as Kuma ripped away the rest of his pants and then started putting the leather gear on him, a harness across his chest, leather bands on his arms and legs, and lastly a collar with a heavy cowbell hanging from it. Then, he did something strange, and took four large objects that looked like metal staples, and with a glowing hand, inserted them into the top of his rubber paws and the bottom of his hooves.

“There. That way, if I want you strung up, we won’t have a problem,” Kuma said, testing the connection. “Now, how are those balls of yours doing?” He walked over and turned off the pump, and looked down, where Boreas’ balls were each larger than a watermelon, and pulled the nozzle out of the root, and hefted them up, the heavy sack dragging down heavily and nearly translucent. “Now, how about we get you fed, rubber bear? You look awfully empty…”

Boreas was almost screaming in his head at this point. Terror at his situation had slowly been replaced by hunger and anger at his emptiness, and everything would be alright if he could just be full again. He shivered as the bear slotted his own cock into his mouth, feeling the head push through the nozzle in the back of his mouth and down the chute, and then he started squeezing the balls in his paws, holding them up, pumping his cum down the rubber throat and into the hollow cavity, watching the bullbear’s eyes roll back in pleasure. Still, after a few squeezes, it was obvious that Kuma was getting a bit tired of it, and so he pushed a glowing finger against his rubber nose, and the mouth started buzzing and sucking on his own cock, drawing the cum into him, where it rolled down the inside of his chest, pooling in both of his paws, and he could taste it, he could taste the cum and it tasted so good, and it was filling him up, and it was everything he’d ever wanted.

Slowly, Boreas’ realized that he hadn’t blinked it what felt like ages. In fact, he couldn’t blink–his eyes had been replaced with glass beads now, the rest of his face now empty rubber like the rest of his body, but that would be fixed soon. Kuma would fill him up. Kuma would be good to him–he took care of his toys. He wouldn’t let him stay empty for long. He would fill him up with his cum, and he would be a good toy, and let his master do whatever he wanted to him. He wouldn’t think, he wouldn’t talk, he would just suck, and stay perfectly still, and obey.

Kuma let the balls go, and they dropped to the floor, dragging Boreas’ face down with them, creasing his neck, but the connection held and the mouth kept sucking it all down. Satisfied, he walked around behind his new toy, running his paw along the surface of his rubber body before coming to his ass. “Hmm…how about we make you a cock sucker at both ends, Boreas?” Kuma said, and touched the base of Boreas’ tail, and he felt his ass start sucking and vibrating like his throat was, and a moment later, Kuma slipped his hard cock into his ass and started fucking his toy roughly, denting in the rubber with each thrust. Boreas could feel the cum slosh about inside his body as the bear fucked him, and his cock responded, cumming down his throat, filling him up as fast as his rubber mouth could suck, the cum overflowing his arms, filling his gut like a small lake before slipping back and down into his hind legs, pooling in his knees and down to his feet.

Kuma shifted position and climbed up on Boreas’ back, his cock still planted deep in the bull bear’s vibrating hole, and he let out a deep grunt around his cigar. “Oh fuck yeah bitch, you’re so much more useful this way.”

He was useful, wasn’t he? Boreas knew Kuma was right, he’d always been so useless before. Hell, how much cum would he have been able to hold before? Not this much, certainly. And he was always talking and thinking before. A toy didn’t need to think, a toy just had to be there for it’s master to use. Yeah, he was much more useful as a cumdump, as sex toy for Kuma to use how he saw fit, and Boreas hoped he would be useful for a long time yet.

Kuma was bucking harder on Boreas’ back, and he was deflating a bit under the weight of the bear, sagging down a bit under him, but Kuma was almost finished, pumping a fresh load of cum into Boreas’ half full cavity, and Boreas could feel it splatter hard against the top of his chest, all the way across his body, and he was so happy. So happy that his master was using him like he’d been made to be used. Kuma climbed back down off of Boreas, and turned off the toy’s sucking ass, before walking around, bopping the rubber bull bear’s nose to turn off his mouth as well. He’d sucked down enough of the cum that the balls had become light enough that the rubber could hold them up, but they weren’t empty yet, and worse, he wasn’t full yet! He wasn’t even halfway full yet! He needed more, he needed it all! But he couldn’t talk, he just stayed there, and Kuma pulled out the cock and laughed. “Don’t worry cumdump–I’m gonna have some friends come over tomorrow, and we’ll get you so full you might explode. Still, I’m spent. How about we put you away for the night? Still, how about I fill you up with something else first? Something you’ll love just as much as my old cum I bet.”

He slipped his cock into the rubber mouth, and after a moment he started pissing into his toy, and the taste was overwhelming. It was almost better than the stale old cum that he’d already feasted on, and when the two mixed in his body, he could taste the foul combination, and it made him so happy to know he was just a waste receptacle for his master. He wanted to be full more than anything, he wanted to burst open, he wanted to explode. Through his glassy eyes he could see his cock leaking a bit of Kuma’s old cum onto the bed, and he screamed in his dull mind. That was his! He needed that, but his master didn’t notice, and the toy couldn’t do anything about it, watching as it dribbled out. Still, it felt good, and there would always be more. His master would keep him well fed–he was sure of that. He’d be full to bursting in no time at all.

The bear finished up and pulled out, and then hefted Boreas up by the tail, the toy now quite a bit heavier than before, and Kuma could hear his cum and piss sloshing around inside of him as he hefted him over to a sling next to the bed. He disconnected the leather bed, and then hooked the four chains up to the hooks he’d imbedded in the toy’s’ paws and hooves, and then rebent his joints so he looked like he was hanging with his arms and legs straight, his neck bent back so his mouth was accessible from the other side.

Boreas felt all of the cum and piss inside of him slide down the inner walls of his cavity, pooling in his empty head and against his back. He liked having his master’s cum in his head–it was so much better having cum and piss in there than brains. Lastly, Kuma picked up the rubber cock and balls and slotted it back into it’s proper socket, the heavy, grapefruit sized balls still taut with Kuma’s fluids and hanging heavy, and the bear let out a chuckle, pawing his cock. “Hell, gotta say, looking at you like that…maybe just one more fuck tonight.”

Kuma turned on Boreas’ sucking asshole again and fucked him, swinging the heavy rubber toy up and down on his massive cock, Boreas delighting in the sensation of his owner’s fluids sloshing about inside of him as he got fucked, and he loved the feeling of his cock leaking his master’s cum out the head of his rubber cock, feeling it run down his smooth belly and dribble onto the carpet beneath him. Just a dirty toy, for dirty play, and he couldn’t wait until the rest of Kuma’s friends came over tomorrow. He was a good toy after all, and he loved being used. It was the only thing he wanted, actually, and the only thing he’d ever want again.

Carefree cigars, that was what the label said. Still, they weren’t too expensive, and Tony still hadn’t really settled on a brand that he especially liked, so he decided to give them a try, and as he walked down the street he found a bar with some outdoor smoking where he figured he could sneak a smoke, ordered a beer, and lit one of them up. Carefree was right–the feeling they gave him was stronger than most any other brand he’d ever had, and they just made him…happy, and not really care about what was going on around him. His beer arrived, and he drink it down a bit faster than he’d intended, and then ordered another one, and downed that too, before starting on the second cigar in the pack.

Three beers later, Tony was feeling good–well, aside from one thing–he was horny. Hornier than he could remember being, well, ever. His cock was rock hard in his shorts, and he kept rubbing it, not really able to stop himself, or even care what people might think about it. He pulled his cock out, discovering it was bigger than he remembered, and started jacking off at the table, making no effort to disguise what he was doing, and he shot a load all over his shirt, before he came to, realized everyone was staring at him, and drunkenly stumbled up and hurried home.

Still, the privacy of his house wasn’t much better, and he stripped down to his jockstrap and started jacking off, unable to contain himself, shooting load after load as he sat on the couch, smoking cigar after cigar, guzzling beer, the other thoughts and cares taking a back seat to his raging horniness. As the night progressed, he started to change little by little, picking up some grey in his hair and beard, tattoos forming across his body, all of them crude and obscene but he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting off.

By morning, it was a very different Tony who stumbled out of his apartment, covered with tattoos, wearing nothing but a leather vest, chaps and some jeans with the crotch ripped open, showing off his ten inch cock for everyone to see, and he hopped onto his motorcycle and drove off. He needed some more cigars first, and then he needed to get to the biker bar. He’d remembered seeing a piggy pipe for sale, and he figured he could probably find someone there to smoke it for him.

Look, I did my best to be a good kid, but even good kids can get up to some mischief now and then. My uncle, I’d always thought, was a really cool guy. Hell, I picked up playing rugby after going with him to see a few club games, although to be honest, he always seemed more interested in the players than the game–though that particular observation wasn’t clear as a kid–I just knew I really loved my uncle. He was warm, unlike my father, and his gluttony, heavy drinking and cigar smoking always seemed to me like he was mocking my healthy, straight laced father. He could never understand why I always wanted to stay over with my uncle, but he allowed me to do so regardless. Sometimes I wished he’d have kept me at home.

One thing my uncle was strict about was that I was to never drink or smoke his cigars. It always made me a bit angry, because I felt like he was depriving me of something he enjoyed, and had a lot of fun doing. Still, I respected my uncle enough until I was seventeen. It was the summer before my senior year, and I was feeling adventurous, so while my uncle was out on an errand that would take him several hours, I popped open a bottle of beer, and lit up one of his cigars–just to try it out.

I didn’t notice the changes until I was onto the second cigar, and maybe the sixth or seventh beer. I just couldn’t stop, once I started, and when I got up, I noticed that my clothes had disappeared, aside from my briefs, and that I’d put on close to a hundred pounds of fat, and looked to be about ten years older. Even worse, I just couldn’t stop drinking and smoking, and when my uncle finally returned, instead of me there, he found a fat, naked pig in the living room, drunk and high, but it was almost like he’d expected it, and he grinned, walked over and started making out with me.

He fucked me hard, and I couldn’t resist oinking and grunting like a pig, and when he’d finished, he got me all dressed up in some leather gear, with a collar and leash, and strutted me around a gay bar, letting all of his friends fuck his fat, horny pig. The next morning I was back to normal, but my uncle started tempting me with the cigars and beer again, and by the end of the day, I’d given in. Back as his pig, I begged him to fuck and fist me again, and he happily complied, telling me he’d waited years for me to finally give in and try a few of his vices. Well, I managed to get through my senior year, but never went off to college. I’m my uncle’s permanent pig now, chain smoking cigars and drinking beer from dawn to dusk–a lifestyle of addiction I know I’ll never manage to break.

Garrett looked up from where he was washing his car, and across the street he saw that the old faggot, Mr. Phillips, was looking at him from the window again, and he rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that he necessarily disliked the attention–he was definitely proud of his body and liked showing it off, or else why would he be outside on a nice day shirtless? Still, knowing that the fat old man was perving out on him was enough to almost make him feel like covering up. What he didn’t see, however, was Mr. Phillips slide the window open, point a strange looking ray gun at Garrett, and fire a strange bean of glistening light which enveloped Garrett for a moment, and then he went mostly limp, his eyes closed and head down, and he turned around in a trance, and crossed the street before letting himself into Mr. Phillips’ house.

***

Garrett startled awake, still standing, not entirely sure what had happened, and almost fell over, unsure of himself. He’d been outside washing his car right, but now he was in some bedroom he didn’t recognize, and he saw Mr. Phillips, his pervy old neighbor kneeling on the ground in front of him, dressed in a leather harness, a thick metal chain around his neck, and the sight of it made a deep growl of approval erupt from his chest, and his cock got a bit hard in his jockstrap.

“Wait…what?” he said to himself, and looked down–expecting to see his camo cargo shorts, but instead he was dressed in a pair of leather chaps and a white jockstrap bulging out with his erection, with two shiny leather boots on his feet, but looking at the slave kneeling in front of him, ready to serve was getting him hard–he loved brutally fucking these old fat perverts, but something was missing, something…he needed in his mouth…

“Slave,” he heard himself say, “Light me a cigar.”

“Yes sir!” Mr. Phillips said, and stood up, rushing to a humidor, opening it up and pulling out a slender cigar. He handed it to Garrett, who looked at it, confused, since he’d never smoked before in his life, but when the old man lit a match, Garrett puffed it to life like it was the most natural act in the world, and smirked. Mr. Phillips was disgusting and a pervert, but then again so was he…right? Just a muscular leather god obsessed with humiliating and dominating old faggots. “Clean my boots, slave,” he said, relishing the sense of power he had over this old man, and Mr. Phillips dropped to the ground, licking the leather to a bright shine, moaning as he did.

“You want my cock in that sloppy asshole of yours, slave?”

“Yes sir!”

“You want me to pound your hole so hard you can’t sit right for a week?” Garrett slipped his cock out of the jockstrap and started stroking it. He really needed a PA in the head. In fact, he really needed some other piercings too, and maybe…maybe some tattoos. Still that would have to come later–he had a fat ass to demolish fist, and with a growl, he kicked Mr. Phillips off his boot, got down and rammed his cock into the faggot with one long, dominant thrust.

You and your brother have always been close. You’re only separated by a year, and your parents didn’t have any other kids after you, and even though your childhood was dotted with periods of intense rivalry, after attending different colleges you both ended up living in your old hometown, and found a bit of comfort in each other’s company. It was then that the dares started–alternating, one of you would suggest something that the two of you would then have to do together, but when your brother brought over the two cigars to your apartment, even you thought that was a bit strange. He’d always been a vehement anti-smoker, and when you asked him where he’d gotten them, he never gave you a clear answer. Still, they were just cigars, right? One wouldn’t hurt you certainly.

You lit them together and coughed up your first draws, laughing at each other as much as yourselves, but after those first few inhales, the smoke didn’t seem as bad as before, and it was really relaxing, actually. The two of you had smoked your cigars down a quarter of the way when the itching on your belly grew severe enough that you decided to slip into the bathroom to investigate, and what you saw shocked you so much you nearly dropped the cigar. A tattoo had appeared on your belly–a tattoo of three intertwining cocks snaking their way up to your chest, and dropping your pants, you saw that there were equally obscene tattoos running down both your legs.

You went out, naked, and saw that your brother was on the couch, still smoking, but his clothing was different. Now, instead of his button down shirt, he was wearing a rubber tank and nothing else, and a goatee had appeared around his mouth, along with an equal number of tattoos…and he looked hot–really hot. You felt yourself drawn to him, the cigar leading the way, and you laid back on him, your head against his swelling gut, and he reached around and started yanking on your nipples, and you gave a sharp gasp as two rings appeared in them, and a third, massive PA through the head of your cock.

“Where…where did you say you got these cigars again?” you ask, before letting out a soft groan.

“Don’t worry about it, bitch,” he says back, grabbing underneath your chin, “Just smoke it all the way down, bro–enjoy it.”

You still had so much more to smoke though, and you had a feeling the changes were just beginning. With a shudder you leaned back into your brother, you cock hardening, and took a deep, long draw deep into your lungs.

***

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