Medical Trials (Part 3)

He knew he should be more shocked than this. He tried, as hard as he could, to make himself *feel* shock. To convince himself that because things like this didn’t usually happen to bodies, what he should be registering is shock, alarm, fear, terror, but beyond a general sense of unease, Evan mostly just…looked at himself, like he’d appraise an object. As something he didn’t have much attachment to, emotionally.

Before becoming a police officer, Evan had served in the army, serving two tours in Iraq. He’d never really enjoyed his time in the army, but he had always appreciated the routine it had instilled in him. As a teenager, he’d been a bit of a troublemaker, and he appreciated the fact that the military had helped him get past that. He’d kept up his exercise and diet even after leaving the army, moving through a few jobs before he ended up in law enforcement. He’d always been told, by the various women he’d dated, that he had a strong jaw, and a stronger body, with a six inch cock he knew how to use. Beyond his muscled frame, he was moderately hairy, with more than a few tattoos he’d picked up with his army buddies.

Looking down at himself now, however, it was clear this drug–whatever it was–had already ruined him, substantially. It was the gut which disturbed him the most. It made sense, to some extent, given how much cum he’d eaten, and how full he’d felt each time. The skin was paler though, and even the stretchmarks from such rapid growth were a mild pink where they should have been violently red. He ran his hands over the surface, feeling how soft and flabby it was, and noticed that his body hair was less thick than it had been, and appeared lighter than before. He’d always kept his face clean shaven, but brushing a hand over his face, he couldn’t even feel stubble there, and even the hair on his head seemed too fine, and thinner than it had been before.

Everywhere, he’d lost muscle and replaced it with fat. He felt weak and tired, lifting his arms was tiring, and he could see several of his tattoos looked like they were fading away somehow. His skin was smooth and pale–he couldn’t have been in here long enough to lose his tan, but he looked like someone who never went outside. He’d forgotten about his cock, in all of this. He…didn’t really want to think about it, or feel it. The pain and agony of the sessions had made him slightly afraid to touch it, but he did, eventually. It was swollen and red, but also smaller–only about three inches, and his balls had shrunk quite a bit as well, each the size of a large grape. Touching himself for the first time in…days?…weeks?…he felt nothing, beyond a vague sickness in his gut, and he pulled his hand away, happy to just let the calm wash over him. Though he would feel better, if he had some cum to eat–but it wasn’t worth the pain.

He was in a room similar to the one with the chair–the same white walls, the same mirror, the same door–but this one had a small bed, a simple chair and small table, a sink and a toilet. More like a prison cell, which wasn’t exactly much of an improvement. He heard a buzz, and the door unlocked. A man stepped into the room, dressed in a well tailored suit. Evan couldn’t recall his name in the haze, but he remembered interviewing him about Trinq’s missing employees. A vice president of…research and development? He wasn’t sure, but he had a disarming smile, not that Evan cared that much. Of all the questions he wanted to ask:–“What am I doing here?” or “What have you done to me?”–the one that feel out of his mouth was, “Can…can I have some cum?”

It was the first time he’d heard his voice unmuffled in all this time, and it was higher, thinner, than it had been.

“Ah, straight to pleasure, detective? No time for business?”

“I’m just…hungry, is all.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are. We’ll get to that, don’t worry. Still, I’m mostly here to check on your progress, in our Calmura trials. Are you enjoying them? We’re working with some private prisons to develop new systems of inmate management, though we’re still trying to work out some of the side effects. Still, in your case, I don’t see anything wrong, do you? Do you like some of the changes? How do you feel?”

“I…” Evan started to say, but he didn’t know how to talk about his feelings. After a moment of silence, he just shrugged. “I don’t…like it. I think.”

“Not sure?”

“Just don’t feel much of anything, really.”

The man sighed, “I was worried seven doses would take too much fight out of you–this would have been more fun after four or five. Oh well, next time, I suppose.” The man pulled a vial and a needle out of his pocket and set them on the table. Even in the dull world his eyes were registering, he recognized the blue in the jar.

“I don’t…want any more.”

“No?” the man said, smiling. “How about we make a deal. You inject yourself with the next dose of Calmura, and I let you suck my cock. You did say you were hungry, right? Still, if you don’t want anymore, you can leave–all you have to do is walk out that door–it’s still unlocked.”

Even before he’d worked out the logic, he was sitting in the chair, readying his next dose. It was simple really. He loved cum. He needed it. If someone offered him cum, he’d do anything to get it. The man was a bit disappointed to see how well the subject had responded, the police officer finding a vein and injecting himself without any apparent reservations, and he set the needle down. “Can I suck you off now?”

The man shrugged, and pulled his cock out of his suit pants, Evan getting down in front of him and sucking, hard, eager to get his next dose of cum. Still, he wasn’t very experienced, and eventually he just let the man fuck his throat roughly, until he came, and he swallowed all of his cum down, feeling…better. It would hurt, cumming again, but this had been worth it. Cum was worth anything. Cum was priceless.

The man just shook his head, and set a beaker down on the table. “There’s probably not much left in those balls of yours, but that will give you a snack for later, right?”

He left the room, and watched Evan position the beaker under his cock, the first orgasm building, and he shot into the glass, over and over again. “Well, that was so successful, I’m almost disappointed,” he said to the scientists observing Evan, “When will he be finished?”

“Another few weeks, at least. We’ll begin his final stage of programming today, once he finishes the ejaculation phase.”

“Good. Keep me updated.”

“Yes sir.”

Commission – Little Critter Diaper Delivery (Part 2)

He hit send, and the diaper brought him to another orgasm. He spewed hardly any cum, his balls drained dry, but this time he seemed to float along in pleasure for ages. The diaper had stopped for the moment, and even though he was exhausted, he also felt…wonderful, somehow. Easy going. Content. Relaxed. He could feel a build up in his bladder again, but he released it without a second thought, feeling the diaper sagging down even heavier, now completely sodden and desperate for a change. Thank goodness he had someone coming over who could help him out with that. A friend…a…a daddy…even.

He lolled about on the ground for a few more minutes, until he heard a knock on the door. He needed to get that, see if it was his friend coming to help change him. Everytime he tried to get up to his feet though, he would get dizzy and topple over. In the end, he crawled over and opened the door on his knees, and found Matt standing there, a six foot three brown bear, fairly chubby, with a big gut hanging over his dress pants from work. “Hey, I came as soon as…fuck, what stinks…?” he says, and then looks down at Hux in the doorway, smiling up at him innocently, naked aside from a very, very heavy diaper and a red hanky tied round his neck. Part of him knew he should be disgusted, shut the door and walk away…but damn, did that little pup need help. Help from…from someone like him. “Looks like I got here just in time, pup,” Matt says, smirking, and steps inside.

“I’m…willy wet…would you change me?” Hux asked, one hand moving up to his mouth, shoving his thumb in and sucking on it. He’d never really realized how…sexy Matt was, actually. It sure was good of him to help him out like this.

“Heh, of course little pup, that’s what…dudes like me are for, right?” Matt said, closing the door behind him. Dude wasn’t quite the right word though, there was a better term, something else he could be… “Go on and lay down, and let’s get you out of that wet thing.”

Like nothing was strange about this situation at all, Matt got down on his knees beside Hux, and undid the side straps on the diapers, a task which had proved completely impossible earlier–not that it should surprise him. Pups couldn’t work diapers, only…only daddies. Matt pulled down the front of the diaper, soaked with piss, and took a deep sniff. “Fuck boy, ya fouled this thing up good–got my cock risin’ real good–fuck pup, what the fuck is that thing? That yer cock?”

Hux sat up a bit, feeling Matt toying with something under his gut…but it didn’t feel right. He looked down, and felt his eyes bug out a bit at the sight of his new cock between two of Matt’s thick fingers. He’d never been incredibly hung before, but now–now his cock was less than an inch long, still somewhat thick, with a small sack of balls underneath. It wasn’t particularly sensitive either…though Matt’s touch had it as hard as it could get. That…that wasn’t right though. None of this was right. “M–Matt,” he said, trying very hard not to say Daddy instead, “I think…you need to get out of here.”

“Nah, hold on, pup, fuckin’ curious now–gotta compare…” Matt said, giving a few grunts as his other hand reached down under his gut, and let his fly loose, hauling his own cock out, and his eyes showed that, inside, he was freaked out by what his body was doing, but he was helpless to stop himself. His own cock was only averaged size, about five inches, but beside Hux’s tiny pecker it looked massive. Hux moaning a bit, sucking his thumb again as…as daddy looked at their cocks together, and started rubbing his up and down, beside Hux’s cock. “Fuck pup, that thing is fuckin’ tiny. Still, I think we both know that’s not what pups really need, right?” He looked over at Hux sucking his thumb and grinned wide. His face looked…different. Usually his facial hair was well trimmed, but it seemed to be extending slightly, forming a longer beard with a few flecks of grey around the chin. His hand had left Hux’s puny cocklet, and was slipping between his thighs, pressing between his ass cheeks for his hole, and when he touched it, Hux shivered and moaned, sucking his thumb harder.

“Oh…Oh fuck, daddy…” Hux said. Half of him wanted it inside of him, the other half wanted all of this to stop, but that chunk of him was growing smaller by the moment.

“Don’t want to waste such a good opportunity, do we pup? Hux wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but Matt answered the question by rolling Hux off the diaper, onto his belly, and then mounted him, running his cock between his ass cheeks, one hand holding his thick tail back and away from the hole, before pressing the head against his chute and sliding inside. “Oh fuck pup, fuck!” Matt said, before dropping into a low growl, slamming in deep. “So fuckin’ tight, fuck! Gonna fuckin’ cum pup, gonna seed yer hole boy, make ya mine, that what ya want?”

“Oh fuck daddy, fuck, please…” Hux heard himself moan, unable to stop himself.

His own cock was spitting cum on the floor as it ground against it, but the true pleasure was in his hole. Daddy’s hole. He felt it now, as Matt let out a roar, filling up his insides, nearly as much cum as he’d filled his diaper with, feeling everything around him…settle somehow. Fall into place. Daddy kept thrusting for a moment longer, and then hauled his cock out. “Fuck…goddamn pup, that damn hole a yers…every damn time.” He heaved a few breaths, and then added, “come on, let’s get you padded up again, before you make a big mess on the floor.”

Matt laid out another diaper from the package, and Hux laid out on it obediently, still sucking his thumb, looking up at and adoring his daddy. He looked…different from earlier, somehow, but he couldn’t place it. The grubby jeans, the stained wifebeater that didn’t quite cover his entire gut, leaving a crescent of brown fur sticking out. “Alright, there’s my baby pup!” Matt said, smiling as he fastened the straps. Matt could feel his daddy’s cum seeping out his ass and into the back of the diaper, but he didn’t mind–it felt…good. Normal. The way things were supposed to be. “Damn, Daddy’s a bit tuckered after all that! Gonna get me a beer and relax a bit–how’s that sound? You can play in the den with your toys.”

Hux crawled after his daddy, and noticed that the entire apartment had…shifted, somehow. But this is just where he lived, right? Lived with his daddy of course. His big, manly Papa Bear, as he liked to call him. He spent some time playing with his dolls and trucks, and then sucked off his Daddy when he got horny again, drinking down all the cum, realizing only later that his diaper was wet again with piss. Daddy liked it though, the smell of it, so he had his pup wear it for the rest of the evening, through dinner, and into bed–Hux only taking a moment to log onto his favorite forums, and add his own positive review of Little Critter Diaper Delivery–it really had changed his life, he wrote, and he never, ever, ever wanted to go back.

Commission – The Little Critter Diaper Service (Part 1)

Hux climbed the stairs to his apartment, saw the package sitting on his doorstep, and his heart skipped a beat, his cheeks blushing red under his fur. Right there on the side of the damn box–”Little Critter Diaper Delivery”–he’d thought ordering them online would be more discreet, not less! As quick as he could, he fumbled his keys out and got the door unlocked, dragging in the large package with one paw as he stepped inside, and threw the door shut behind him. God, he hoped none of his neighbors had seen that–he was usually home from work before other people at the apartment complex, at least, so chances were his secret was still safe–hopefully.

It wasn’t something he was very comfortable with yet, but Hux…liked diapers. Liked wearing diapers. Liked pissing in them, liked…feeling like a big baby. Something about it turned him on damn much, even if the very idea of anyone knowing about his fetish was a bit humiliating. He’d stumbled across a diaper story a few years back, and his obsession had grown from there. He’d been wearing diapers on occasion for the past few months, usually for an afternoon or something, until he got tired of it and cleaned himself up, but the clerk at the store had recognized him the last time he was there to buy some, and he’d turned bright red and hauled ass out of there. He’d asked around some forums, about where he could order some quality diapers, and over and over, guys kept recommending “Little Critter Diaper Delivery,” saying that once they’d started wearing those, they’d never gone back to another brand. The users who suggested them were all regulars on the forum–he’d seen them online there all the time, so they probably were the ones to know. They added that they were great for long term wear, good for play with daddies–not necessarily things Hux was looking for…yet, but interesting to him all the same.

Now that the embarrassment was wearing off, the horniness was starting to grow. He went into the kitchen and found a knife he could use to cut the tape, opened up the box and found his order of twenty-four disposable XXL diapers. Thick diapers, he discovered as he pulled them out. He’d never bought ones that were this thick, and that actually worried him a bit. He liked cumming in diapers, mostly, but these looked like he wouldn’t even be able to feel his dick through the hefty fabric. They would be absorbent though…no wonder the guys online said they were good for long sessions. Still, what’s the worst that could happen, really? If they didn’t work, he could always just ship them back, right? He didn’t really want to go back to the store, but he’d gotten other recommendations on the forums he might try. He held them up to his waist, under his gut, giving them a bit of a stretch. They’d fit him at least–the one’s before were always a bit too small for a big boy like he was.

He stripped out of his work clothes, the khakis and his button down shirt from the dumb office job where he was working currently, tied on the hanky he liked to wear–it always made him feel like a pup, when he’d worn hankies like this all the time–and then laid out the first diaper he’d pulled out, sat down on it, and went about pulling it up around him, pulling the straps tight around him until it was snug around his whole crotch and ass, with a hole in the back for his fluffy tail. The forum was right–they were comfortable. Really comfortable in fact. Like he was sitting on a cloud, almost…so relaxing he could…could just…

It took him a few moments to realize the warmth around his crotch wasn’t just comfort–but piss. He felt like he should be freaking out a bit, but instead he laid back, feeling the warmth spread around him. He hadn’t really managed to get much piss out into the diapers before, and he’d certainly never let loose like this before! It was as good as he’d always thought it would feel, and he moaned a bit, thrusting his crotch into the air, his paws groping the fluffy diaper. Unfortunately, his earlier worry had been confirmed–he couldn’t feel his paws on his cock at all. Still…something felt good in there, almost like the wet fabric was massaging his cock somehow. He tried to push his hand down the waistband, but he must have pulled it tighter than he remembered–he couldn’t even fit his hand down there to jack off. As he tried, the sensation around his cock was intensifying–now he was certain something was going on–he sat up, the piss starting to grow a bit lukewarm, and again felt the outside of the diaper. His paws just felt fluff, but inside–it was like someone’s mouth and ass were toying with his cock simultaneously, quicker now, and with a jerk, clutching the front of the diaper, he shouted, “Fuck, I’m cumming!”

It was easily the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced, and as soon as it had begun to ebb, the diaper contracted around his cock again, sending him into another orgasm, even stronger than the last. The diaper refused to stop, milking as much cum out of his cock as it could with each orgasm, the next one beginning almost as soon as the last one ended. His paws, shaking, desperately tugged at the tabs on the sides of the diaper, but they refused to come unstuck. He couldn’t even feel the seams anymore, and another orgasm had him on his back, thrusting into the air, moaning and howling with pleasure, almost as a punishment for trying to escape.

It wasn’t long before the milking of his cock took on a different sensation, becoming less sensual and gentle, and rougher, harder–the fabric crushing against his cock and balls, squeezing and pulling them in strange, unfamiliar ways. It made his stomach ache, like he was seasick, but it didn’t stop him from cumming again and again. They were as intense as before, but growing shorter–less and less cum flowing into the now soggy, sagging diaper with each shot. For a while, he kept trying to get himself out of the diaper, but before long he’d rolled over onto his belly and was willingly thrusting into the diaper, drooling on the carpet, listening to the soaked fabric squelch beneath him, tail wagging too and fro in the air behind him.

Help–he had to get help. He can see his khakis on the floor a few feet away, and he crawls over…enjoying the sensation of the sagging diaper between his fat thighs that he cums from that sensation alone, his balls aching in their fabric cage. He fumbled through his contacts, terrified that someone was going to see him like this, but he…needed someone here with him. He couldn’t do this alone. He had a good friend who lived nearby, a coworker named Matt a bit older than he was, in his 30’s. They’d hung out regularly and he was cool with everything Hux had told him about–hopefully he’d be cool with this. He took his time, typing out a text as he panted, tongue hanging out, diaper nursing his cock gently, urging him on.

“Hey, could you come over please? I’m having a emergency, and need some help. ASAP!”

So sorry for the long wait, Patrick. can I call you Pat? The last shoot ran long–still, I hope you took advantage of the complementary snacks and beverages out in the waiting room.

Oh–you didn’t?

Yes, you do have a rather nice physique, that’s true, I understand why you’d want to keep it that way. Still, after that wait, you must be thirsty at least–would you at least like some water? Yeah, I thought you might.

All good? Alright, we’re going to start off with some test shots. If you’d just stand over, against the background please?

Yes, thank you, that’s excellent. Now just go ahead and pose freely for a bit–keep it a bit commercial though, nothing too crazy. I just want to see how you look through the lens.

Yes…yes, very good. Alright Pat, you can go ahead and undress please.

Oh, I thought you knew this was a nude shoot?

Well, if you have a problem with it, why did you just take your clothes off?

I wouldn’t worry about it Pat. Now, I was hoping you’d be a bit further along by the time we got to your shoot, but I suppose I can use these as some bonus content. Now if you’d just sit down–could we get a tray of snacks please?–Yes, there we go–alright Pat, now, you’re going to eat that entire tray of food there, and we’ll see how you look when you’re done.

Fight all you want, but I’m going to get my pictures.

Yeah, it does taste good, doesn’t it? Stuff that whole cupcake in your mouth, yeah, that’s it, that’s a good fucking pig. Keep eating, Patty Pig. Fuck, you’re looking better already! Keep going, the men are going to fucking love you!

Alright Patty, now that you’re looking more like our target, let’s do your individual shoot–go on, play with that new gut of yours, that’s it. Fiddle that puny cock, show the camera how worthless it is. You know what you are good for? Fucking. Yeah, that’s right, finger that hole, feel how good that is? Yeah, you fucking slut, you’re going to make a killing with this video.

Well of course we’re shooting a video! Get Hogan in here! I wanna get this pig plugged with that brutes massive cock, and then we’ll get to the real fun.

Source: models-not-allowed

Life Coach (Part 2)

Shane woke up the next morning in an unfamiliar bed that, at the same time, felt…right. It was smaller than usual–just a twin bed, in fact. But the room–he recognized the room, for sure. He was back in his house, but he was in a room which he thought had been a guest room, but which his brain was now telling him was…his room. But that couldn’t be right–he slept in the master suite in his house with his wife–but that thought was so embarrassing he felt his cheeks turn red immediately.

He’d never once slept in the same bed as his wife! She had taken one look at his puny cock on their honeymoon, and laughed him onto the couch. He’d never even fucked her once–she’d told him that he wasn’t man enough, and she was right. He had the money, he had the career, he had the confidence out of the house, but in here he was whipped, and he hated it, but there was no getting out of it now. He rolled up in his bed, and looked down at his tiny, half inch cock and raisin sized balls–some part of him unable to believe it, but he’d looked at the same equipment his whole life, why was he finding this so hard this morning?

Even then, the cock was only one piece of a larger problem. He stood up from the bed, and was certain he should be standing taller, but he’d always been short–just shy of five feet five inches–and his flabby body wasn’t doing him any favors either. He’d always found his body disgusting though–all of the hair everywhere–it was almost as thick across his back as it was across his chest. The muttonchops on his face only made his head look fatter and wider–why did he keep them cut all bushy like that anyway? He picked a cigar from the humidor and lit it up, feeling a bit better once he got some smoke in him, and then he got dressed–Sandra demanded that he be dressed at all times in her presence–it lessened the chance that she might have to lay eyes on his disgusting body, as she called it.

She was downstairs in a robe, when he got there. When he entered the kitchen, she informed him that she had a new lover coming over in an hour, and that Shane would have to get the door, because she would be getting ready when he arrived. That small part of him did a double take, but it wasn’t like his wife was willing to forego sex just because her husband’s cock was a microdick. No–she took lovers all the time, as many as she wanted, and…and he let her, because it made her happy, and sometimes he got to watch–provided the man she was making love to was alright with it. He ate some breakfast and read the paper–his lazy Sunday routine–and when the doorbell rang, he got up and answered the door, finding a young man on the other side, wearing little, his massive cock bulging in the front of his jeans.

“Oh, uh, hi–I’m here for Sandra…” the guy said, “Who…are you?”

“Oh, I’m Shane–her husband. Come on in, she’s upstairs getting ready for you.”

“Oookay,” the young man said, “Actually, I think I’m just gonna go…”

“No, please,” Shane said, “Come in! It’s fine, we have an…arrangement.”

He was obviously still skeptical, but he stepped inside anyway. Shane got the young man’s name–Devin–and then led him upstairs, where Sandra was in the master bedroom, nearly naked. “Oh there you are Devin–you’re late. I hate having to wait, you should remember that. Get undressed.”

Devin looked from her to Shane, but he pulled off his tank top, displaying his thick pecs and solid abs, but paused with his jeans. “Is…why is he still here?”

“Oh–Shane here has the tiniest cock I’ve ever seen–he can’t even get inside me. You’ll have to forgive him, he hates asking. Shane–is there something you’d like to ask Devin?”

Shane cleared his throat, somehow feeling even smaller than his new height made him, “Oh, uh, I’d like to…to watch, if that’s alright with you.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind. I–I’ll stay out of sight, you won’t know I’m here.”

“Fuck no, you fucking creep, get the fuck out of here!”

Shane blushed red, but did as the young man said, and retreated outside the bedroom door, closing it behind him. There was lots of laughter for a few moments, and then that segued into moans. Shane was left outside the door, smoking one of his cigars–almost sucking on the rough leaf–rubbing his crotch through his pants, feeling his tiny cock stiff like a nipple thinking…thinking about that young man, how big his cock must be, what…what it might feel like. Maybe…maybe he’ll let him watch some other time, maybe he can find out what kinds of things he might like, or give him some money, next time.

Wait–what the fuck was he doing? This wasn’t right, this wasn’t right at all! He wasn’t some…flabby short pushover with a cock small enough for the record books. This–something had happened. Something had changed, but what? He stalked away from the door and back to his room, where he lit a cigar and tried to focus on something beyond the moans of the young man he could hear from down the hallway. What had he done yesterday? There was that new neighbor, and he’d gone over to say hello, but after that things got…hazy, and he couldn’t quite remember anything of the visit at all. Still, something in his gut told him that if he wanted answers, he’d have to go there, and so he left the house and went next door, where he knocked on the door. After a moment, Evan opened the door and looked down at his short neighbor, and smirked. “Well hello Shane, back for another session already? I must say, you look like you’ve made tremendous progress from yesterday. Why don’t you come inside?”

His body, something was wrong with his body. he stepped inside, and before Evan even got the door shut, he was on his knees–waiting. Waiting for Evan to turn around, slowly unzip his fly, his huge cock flopping out, and Shane swallowed it to the hilt.

Ruining Mr. Fisher (Part 6)

The light died back after about thirty seconds, but Gerard kept his face turned away. He…didn’t want to look at him. He didn’t want to see what he’d just done to his only son. It didn’t really matter though, because he knew everything about the new Shawn anyway, from his new memories that were forming in his mind, coming unbidden to him, the previous Shawn fading away to a distant memory.

Shawn–he’d always been Gerard’s pride and joy. Brilliant from a young age, with his father’s drive and ambition, he’d funneled him into the most advanced private schools and academies he could find. They hadn’t always had the best of relationships, but that was because Gerard wanted him to be great, before all of this, before Ned had first flashed that medallion in front of his eyes, Shawn had been seventeen, at the front of his class, with full ride scholarships to Harvard and Yale. He’d been talking about becoming a Senator, or President, one day, and Gerard knew he could do it, and part of him had always hated it. Always hated him for…outshining him, for taking the stepping stones he’d provided as his father and using them even better than he’d imagined he’d might, even better than Gerard could have used them. As Ned had torn him down, few things had hurt more than the contempt he’d seen in his son’s eyes, every time he looked at his faggot failure of a father. Part of him had always wanted to see him fail at something, but what he’d done now, was make it so Shawn had never even tried to do anything in his entire life.

A difficult child, he’d gotten in fights even at preschool–he’d never made it far academically, and once everyone at all the other schools had gotten wind of his son’s violent tendencies, they’d all barred him admission. He couldn’t even succeed at public school, and Gerard had been forced to bail him out of trouble for bullying and violent outbursts for years. He’d been expelled two months into his freshman year of high school. Gerard had paid for tutors, but none lasted, and now Shawn didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to do…and Gerard couldn’t make him do anything at this point. The rock in his stomach wouldn’t settle, and he finally turned around, and found Ned on top of his son, his new son, the two of them kissing and eating each other’s sweaty faces, grinding their crotches together.

Shawn had always been in decent shape, but now he was massive. After all, he spent all his free time (and he had a lot of free time) working out and practicing boxing and wrestling with men who doubled as fuck buddies most of the time. Gerard had caught him with steroids over and over, but had never been able to stop him from taking them, and that had only made him bigger and more aggressive than before. Shawn had gotten the first of his piercings when he was eleven, behind his parents’ backs, and his first tattoo in exchange for a blow job when he was fourteen. At this point he had more metal in him than Gerard could count, and at least three quarters of his body covered in shoddy, sloppy ink work.

“Fuckin’ A,” Shawn said, when Ned lifted away from his mouth, his nose broken in multiple places, eyes swelled from beatings, half his teeth missing from his mouth. “Didn’t…fuckin’ know I could feel this fuckin’ good. Fuckin’ powerful man…Fuck! I feel fuckin’ good, ya know?”

“I bet you do,” Ned said, “But here, let me give you some better equipment, eh?” Ned pressed the medallion into Shawn’s flesh, above his cock, and Gerard wanted his son’s cock and balls grow to obscene proportions–maybe not as large as his own were, confined tight in this cage, but at least eleven inches, and the size of two oranges.

“Yeah man, now that’s a fuckin’ fuckstick,” Shawn wrapped both scarred, tattooed hands around the shaft and started milking it, “Fuckin’ fantastic…”

Ned took a step back, admiring the muscular monster lying on his bed, veins bulging, huge roid gut, stupid stare on his face as he drooled and stroked his meat. “Hard tah believe a sexy fucker like that came outa yer seed, bitch, gotta say.”

“You…what the fuck, you fucking ruined him…”

“Sure fuckin’ did, but he likes it. Still, a deal’s a deal, so let’s get that cage off ya,” Ned said. Gerard hefted up his apron and let Ned get at the cage there–but instead of unlocking it, he felt a searing heat as Ned pressed the medallion in the spot over his cock, and after a moment there was a loud clank, as the cage hit the floor, and Ned stood back up. Gerard reached under for his cock, but found nothing but fat. He kept looking, and couldn’t find his balls either. Eventually his hands found a half inch nub of a cock–more of a nipple buried in his gunt, and a couple of small balls. His face went red with rage. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

“The cage is off–I didn’t say how it would happen. Don’t need it anyway–that nub is dead flesh–no nerves, and you can’t shoot anyway, not with those dry balls. Now all we gotta do is fix the two of you up, and we’ll be golden.”

“What…what are you talking about?”

“Well, yer ex ain’t gonna want tah deal with a monster like that. ‘Sides, I have a feelin’ yer gonna like yer son a lot more in a second.”

Gerard tried to move, but he was frozen in place as Ned took the medallion and pressed it to his own breast–a seemingly endless flash later, he stumbled back, unable to believe what he was remembering, as his son got up from the bed and started towards him. “No–No, Shawn, please no, I–”

The right hook caught him mid sentence, and he felt another tooth dislodge from his mouth as he fell to the floor, his son grabbing him in a raging, erotic heat, driving his massive cock deep into his father’s hole. It hurt, and worse, it didn’t…feel good. All it did was hurt. Before, when Gerard had been fucked, it had felt good, but this, he screamed, and tried to crawl away, his son biting into his flabby shoulder and drawing blood as he drove in deeper, slamming his father’s face into the floor of the trailer, stunning him so he laid there and let his son rape his hole.

Making Pigs (Part 2)

The man took another drag off his cigarette, looking like he was pondering something, while the pig kept sucking his cock, fiddling with his nipples as he did. “Still, I suppose we need a name for you, eh pig? I can’t just keep calling you pig, after all.”

That…that wasn’t right. He had a name, didn’t he? It was hard with his mouth glued to the man’s cock, but he twisted his eyes over, to the badge still pinned to the uniform shirt he’d stripped off earlier. Robertson. Something Robertson. And…and he had a wife, and he…he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be on the side of the fuycking highway, sucking off a stranger, no…no matter how much he might enjoy it. It took all of his energy, but he pulled himself away–it took so much force, that he ended up falling on his chubby ass on the pavement, which hurt, but the pain only brought his mind back more. “Fuck…fuck you, I have a name, you son of a bitch. My…My name is Robertson, and…and you’re under arrest, you fucking pervert.”

The man took a drag off his cigarette, and laughed. “Pig, you’re no cop–not anymore. Hey–I’ll tell you what. If you can fit in that uniform there, then I’ll let you arrest me, tough guy. Go on, I want to see you try.”

So he tried. He grabbed the shirt, and while he could get it over his shoulders, no matter how hard he tugged, there was no hope that he could possibly button it. Undeterred, he tried with the pants, but his thighs and ass had swollen so large that he couldn’t even get them close to his waist. “They…they fit me earlier. I was wearing them…”

“No pig, you weren’t–you weren’t wearing anything, because pigs don’t get to wear clothes.”

“They don’t?”

“Fuck no–now take those fucking things off, you dumb ass, and give them to me”

Confused, the pig none the less did as the man said, took off the uniform, and handed them to the man, watching as he got out his lighter, set them aflame, and chucked them a few yards off in front of the car. “That ain’t nobody anymore. And that means, you don’t have a name, right?”

“I…I suppose so.”

“How about Porgy? I think I’m going to call you that for a while, and see if it sticks. You like that name, I think. It makes your little, tiny piggy cock leak a bit whenever I call you that, doesn’t it? Just like how it makes you link knowing you’re naked in front of all of these fucking people. You’re one horny pig at this point, I bet–so why don’t we make you cum? Pig’s like you can only cum with a cock in their asspussy though, so you’d better bend over the front of the truck, Porgy.”

Porgy didn’t really…understand much of that, but his puny cock was hard, and he did want to feel that man’s big cock in his ass, really bad. With a snort, he waddled over and bent over the front of the truck, the metal hot on his flesh, ass towards the road. The man got out and came around behind him, sucking on his fingers and getting them wet, before probing around in the pigs hole with two or three, listening to the man’s grunts of pain turn to snorts of pleasure.

“Fuck, I love hairless pigs like you–not a hair anywhere on your body. Nude crotch, nothing in your crack, not even anything on that head of yours,” the man said, watching the hair on the man’s scalp retract, and he palmed Porgy’s head, “Feel’s good, huh Porgy? Good to have a man taking control of you, good to have his fingers in your cunt, good to show the whole world what a fat slut you are?” One last drag off that cigarette, and all that was left was a small butt. “Open up Porgy.”

The pig opened wide–the man snuffed his butt out on the pig’s tongue and then fed it to him, made the pig lick his fingers clean afterward, and took his time lighting another cig, the pig getting antsy, hungry to feel a real man’s cock deep in his piggy hole for the first time, dribbles of precum wetting the pavement beneath him as it dripped from his gunt. With another cigarette, he figured the pig was finally ready for his first proper fuck. He lined himself up and slipped in, the pig’s cunt giving no resistance, and Porgy let loose his first real squeal, bucking back, feeling his entire hole light up with pleasure, with need. This…this was his purpose, this was what he was made for, this is what he needed to to, needed to be. The first orgasm overwhelmed his entire body, his smooth skin shaking, eyes rolling back in his head as cum gushed out of his gunt across the asphalt beneath him.

The man pulled out, and ordered the pig to turn around. Not sure what the man was doing, he felt the man heft up his low hanging apron, and thrust himself inside the pig’s cock cavity. It hurt, feeling the man’s cock pound against his own, and yet…it felt good too. “How does it feel, huh? having a cock so small, being so fat that you might as well be a pussy? That you have a front hole where a cock should be?” The man twisted the pig’s nipples, and felt a second gush of cum flood around out around his cock as he thrust deeper, the pig’s cock shrinking even further up into his body. He pulled his cigarette free from his mouth after a long drag, leaned in and locked lips, feeding the pig his smoke, listening to the car honking behind them, the sound of tires grinding along the shoulder behind them. He looked up after the kiss, and saw a second pig climbing off a motorcycle and coming towards them. He hadn’t really planned on collecting two pigs today, but he wasn’t about to turn another one down, if they were coming to him.

Mr. Lear’s Buddy (Part 3)

Things were different for Buddy from then on, when he finally woke early Saturday afternoon, from his very long sleep. He’d…tried to resist. He really had, at first, but once he’d understood how…how good it could feel, how wonderful it was to have someone like Mr. Lear inside him, guiding him, controlling him, it was easier to just…let go. Together, Mr Lear and Buddy spent the next hour or so jacking off–for real now–exploring his young, husky body, Buddy amazed at the range of pleasure the old man could bring out in him. Sure, he’d jacked off before, but it had never felt like…like this. It was no wonder people jacked off so much, if you knew what you were doing, of course. And Mr. Lear had shown him that Buddy had no idea at all, what he was doing. He’d just been…floundering all this time, in desperate need of someone’s help. Well now he didn’t have to do anything at all. Mr. Lear would do everything for him! All he had to do was go along for the ride.

He felt a bit bad for his dad, however. He eventually came up to his son’s room to investigate the moaning he’d heard, over the din of the television downstairs. He opened the door, and was appalled at what he saw–his son covered in his own cum, jacking off openly under his roof like some…some fucking faggot! Buddy’s dad wasn’t all that much brighter than his son. He hadn’t even managed to graduate high school, ending up working away his life in construction. he was a big brute, heavily muscled with a thick full beard–it didn’t take much effort for Mr. Lear to have him on top of his own son, drooling, licking up the cum from his skin, disgusted with himself at his own actions but unable to do anything to stop himself.

But what to do with him? Such a horrible little man couldn’t be allowed to just continue being…horrible, after all. Mr. Lear started by stealing most of his cock. Buddy had been modestly endowed–around four inches, his father was a bit larger, at six. Together, however, Buddy’s body was wielding a ten inch, incredibly thick cock, and his father was left with not even a dicklet, but a dimple and a hole. He was humiliated at the sight of himself–which gave Mr. Lear a horrid idea–so he forced his new father to take any number of pictures of himself, in all sorts of demeaning positions and in his wife’s underwear, and made him start posting them online–his face exposed of course. He couldn’t stand it, but the thrill for him was so powerful, he started compulsively oozing from his new cumhole.

Mr. Lear had no real interest in returning to school–he already had enough knowledge to satisfy multiple PhDs, but his new body needed at least a high school diploma. When Buddy suddenly stopped failing classes, some of his teachers thought it was a miracle–the hopeless student, not just uncaring, but too stupid to really know what caring was–suddenly improved. Was he cheating? No one could prove anything–but some of the teachers found out the truth, soon enough.

Mr. Sonders, for example. He was easily the fattest teacher at the school, weighing in close to six hundred pounds, though this year he’d resolved to lose as much of it as he could–at least until Buddy’s body showed up at his desk one day after school. Mr. Sonders, Buddy discovered, had been Mr. Lear’s pet piggy–and while he put up quite a fight against falling back under his master’s control, he was soon crawling around the floor, squealing and oinking, begging his master’s forgiveness for daring to lose any of the weight he’d worked so hard to gain. In a matter of months, he was larger than ever, and as punishment he could no longer cum without his mouth packed with food–or a cock.

The football coach was equally unhappy to discover Mr. Lear was back from the grave, but he too, was back to his old habits before too long–no longer showering or changing his clothes, licking out the locker room urinals and toilets after practice, wetting the bed each night in his bachelor pad, since his wife had long since left him after his hygiene had first slipped. One thing that was unforgivable, however, was that he had shaved off his long, grungy beard, and cut his hair. As penance, his hair began growing incredibly fast–he had his old beard back by graduation, and it would only be getting longer–and filthier.

Buddy had no real hope of getting into college, of course–not with his abysmal track record in school. That didn’t seem to bother him, however, and he took on a conveniently open janitorial position at his old high school, and moved out on his own, into Mr. Lear’s still vacant house. After a few months, his father and mother divorced–his photos had finally been found online by his wife and work buddies. He was forced to quit his job out of shame, and move in with his son as his personal maid and slave. The brute spent his days in woman’s panties and heels, but Mr Lear forced him to work out even more and start juice up, turning him into a massive muscle monster bottom, filming slutty, humiliating videos for his online fans…and that was the last Buddy saw of him…of anything, actually.

He’d been fading for a while now, as Mr. Lear took over more and more space up in his mind. Before too long, even he wasn’t sure he existed anymore–when Mr. Lear finally convinced him that his existence was simply an impossibility, he finally winked out entirely, leaving his body to his Master, for the rest of his new life.

The Power of Reality – Preview (Part 2)

The continuation of “The Power of Belief”, featuring the further rise and eventual fall of Professor Larson, is up on Patreon for everyone contributing five dollars or more a month. You can find the download link here if you’re a contributor. It’s quite long, and I’ll be posting the first few chunks of the story here on tumblr, but if you want to read the whole thing, Patreon is the only place to find it (for now).

It worked–the watch had worked. The high frequency signal allowed him to change beliefs in subjects while they were conscious–so long as he could be persuasive enough. It had required a bit more power than he would have liked, to get Aaron to go along with his desires, and he checked the power supply as he walked down the hall to Professor Hubert’s office–the current chair of the department. Over half a battery left–plenty, if he was efficient. Of course, the persuasion was only part of what he needed–the other was authority. The more social capital he had, the easier it would be to realize his desired reality, and that was why Professor Hubert needed to retire–so that Professor Larson could become the new department chair. He knocked on the door, and Professor Hubert shouted “Come in!” Professor Larson opened the door and slipped inside, shutting it behind him.

Professor Hubert looked exhausted—then again, why wouldn’t he be? He was in the midst of a rather nasty divorce. Professor Larson had felt guilty about that–his wife had been one of his earlier test subjects, and Hubert hadn’t been allowed home in weeks, forcing him to sleep in his office. But that gave Professor Larson the opening he needed, and weakened his opponent in one move–now, he just had to give things a little stronger push. “How are you doing, Eddie?”

“How do you think I’m doing?” Eddie Hubert replied, rubbing his eyes.

“She still won’t even talk to you?”

He shook his head. “I just don’t understand. She won’t even tell me why!”

“Well, I heard that she just wants to save you the embarrassment of anyone finding out, you know?”

Hubert looked at him in a funny way. “What?”

“You don’t have to play coy with me, Hubert. I just don’t know why you never told me we play for the same team.”

It was obvious that Eddie still had no idea what his colleague was talking about. Harold rolled his eyes, came around his desk, and started opening a series of folders he’d created on Eddie’s computer a few days earlier, “Cynthia told me all about it,” he said, making sure the watch was close to Hubert’s ear, watching his eyes glaze over slightly, “about your stash, about the kind of thing you’re really looking for.”

He opened the last folder, revealing a huge stockpile of photos. Photos of men, all kinds of men–young and old, fat and thin, from all walks of life. There was just one similarity between all of them–the size of their cocks. The shortest was nine inches, any number of them looked like they’d been morphed larger than humanly possible.

“That’s not…mine. I don’t know…”

“You don’t have to deny it, Eddie. I know your secret, but I won’t tell anyone. I just wish I had known sooner. You can’t blame Cynthia for being a bit embarrassed–no wonder you haven’t ever been able to perform with her, when the only thing that gets you hard is a huge cock.”

It couldn’t be true. He loved his wife. Sure, he’d had a hard time performing sometimes, but this…no, it couldn’t be true…could it? One of his hands was in his lap, and his cock was hard. Why would his cock be hard if he wasn’t turned on by what he was looking at? Being gay wasn’t something to be ashamed of, just like Harold was saying. He shouldn’t be ashamed of what he wanted. He started stroking his cock, while Harold kept talking, looking through his collection, his own, two inch cock, hard at the thought of some of these monsters he was looking at. Thinking about trying to take them down his throat, and up his ass. He didn’t notice the knock on the door, but Harold went over and opened it while he kept jacking off, Aaron stepping inside, a bit nervous, seeing Professor Hubert jacking off openly, but Harold assured him everything was fine.

“Now Eddie, I know that you could use a pick-me-up, and I just happened to have a student with just the sort of thing you’re interested in, right Aaron? Go on, show Professor Hubert here what you’re packing, boy.”

Aaron looked at the older, fat professor. “Are…Are you sure?”

“Come on Aaron, I know you aren’t shy–you love showing off your big cock.”

He did like it, now that he thought about it, and he dropped his pants, revealing his ten inch cock, which he stroked until it was hard. Professor Hubert’s jaw dropped at the sight, and he kept playing with his puny cock.

“Now Aaron, you like to fuck, right? Anyone with a cock that big has to love fucking.”

“Yes, Professor, I love fucking.”

“I bet a young man like you, I bet you don’t even care what you fuck, right? As long as it’s a hole?”

Aaron nodded, but it was hard paying attention, now that his cock was hard.

“Eddie, I bet you have a hole for Aaron to use, don’t you? I bet getting fucked by his huge cock would improve your mood quite a bit.”Professor Hubert was two steps ahead of him; he was already up, dropping his trousers, and coming around the desk, bending over it, presenting his hole to Aaron.

“Come on boy, show my hole what you can do with that huge cock of yours.”

They fucked for as long as the battery in Larson’s watch lasted, Aaron blasting load after load of cum into the professor’s hole, and Harold spent his time talking to both of them, telling them that they both loved how they other made them feel, that they couldn’t wait to fuck again, that they needed each other more than anything, and most importantly, that they couldn’t tell anyone about their budding relationship–well, aside from Harold, of course. In fact, he made sure that each of them would want to come by his office regularly, to discuss what was happening to them.

He couldn’t resist making a few additional changes to them, of course. By the time Aaron left the office, he’d put on quite a bit more body hair and grown a full beard, not to mention lost a large amount of his IQ. Still, Harold didn’t want him smart–the stupider he was, the easier it would be to keep him under his thumb. Eddie Hubert, on the other hand, finished up quite a bit fatter, and quite a bit older than he had been, with his hole plugged by a dildo, his one inch cock unable to get hard, but he happily sucked a load of cum from his colleague’s own massive cock once his student boyfriend had left the room. Things were going perfectly, and once he was finished, Larson left and headed home to recharge his watch, and watch the video he’d recorded of the two of them fucking. In a few weeks time, he had a feeling Eddie and Aaron wouldn’t be at the school any longer, but that didn’t bother Harold–sometimes you had to ruin a few lives to get ahead, right?

The Fetish Gun (Part 1)

The life of a lowly intern–first into the office, and nearly always the last to leave–it was well into night by the time Wade freed himself from his menial work, packed some things up in his briefcase, and started the walk home. It was friday night and the streets were busy–he had to pass through a hub of bars and small concert venues to get to his apartment, and while he always imagined on Fridays that he’d just go straight from the office to the bar, he was almost always too tired to do much beyond walk home and fall into bed–he could always go have some fun on Saturday night, right? Miranda had seemed to enjoy their last date–maybe he’d give her a call and see if she wanted to go out, if he wasn’t too tired. Fuck, twenty-five, and he already sounded like he was middle aged.

He turned into an alley which cut between a brick wall and the back of a small nightclub…though the clientele seemed a bit strange tonight. Usually there were a few straight couples smoking out back, talking quietly, but as he walked down, he saw that the small crowd was all men, and they seemed to be especially…fetishy. Leather, rubber, guys on their hands and knees in dog masks. It was almost enough to convince him to turn around, but there was no reason he couldn’t skirt the edge, right? He moved around the group, and felt everyone…staring at him. As he tried to escape the crowd around him, someone inside shouted, “Hey Greg! There’s one, out back.”

Some odd light covered Wade’s body for a moment, holding him in place, and then it was gone a second later. He stopped, trying to figure out what had just happened…and why he was so much colder all of a sudden. He looked down at himself and quickly saw why–he was nearly naked. The suit he’d been wearing (Suit? Had he been wearing a suit? It seemed…hard to imagine, him in a suit…) had simply disappeared, and in its place he was wearing a leather bulldog harness, a leather jockstrap, and two boots–nothing more. He gawked at himself, and then looked at everyone else around him–their eyes…some looked at him eagerly, but others…it looked like pity, or maybe just resignation.

“Did I get him?”

“Fuck yeah, your aim is impeccable.”

“Oh please, it’s just the guidance system, but thanks anyway.”

Two men emerged from the club, both of them nearly six and a half feet tall, heavily muscled, and wearing identical black leather uniforms. The men standing around and smoking all ducked back into the club almost immediately, aside from a few who hung back, and Wade tried to figure out what he had been doing. He’d been going home, right? Or…or had he been in the club…this whole time? He felt rather uncomfortable, his body bared for these two men. He wasn’t in very good shape–or rather, he had almost no shape at all–and the harness did nothing to hide it. He wasn’t exactly fat–though he did have a bit of a potbelly. More, he just looked like he spent his days behind a desk, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He also wasn’t sure how he felt about the men in front of him…he’d never felt much attraction towards men, but suddenly…looking at these two huge muscle gods, he’d never felt this horny in his whole life.

“How’s the ratio in there?”

“I’d say make him a sub,” the other replied, and lifted up the strange looking gun he had in his hand, adjusting some of the knobs on the side, “Can always use more subs, right? Any preference?”

“Eh, surprise me.”

Before Wade could ask what was going on, the man pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger–the same light enveloping him as before, and disappeared a moment later–leaving him mostly the same, but with…several differences. His…physique, for one thing, and gone through a remarkable improvement. It looked like he had spent hours in the gym, bulking and building muscle–but with a sudden loss of height, he’d become a stout fireplug. Unfortunately, as he’d grown bigger, his cock had shrunk to a nub, while his balls had exploded in size, each nearly as large as a lemon, forcing the jockstrap to bulge out. With a grunt, unable to control himself, Wade dropped to his knees, the man with the gun releasing his seven inch cock from his pants. Wade felt drool immediately start flowing from his mouth, and he walked forward on his knees and swallowed it to the hilt.

“Nice muscle pig.”

“Thanks–he’s got a very nice mouth too. But try squeezing his balls.”

The other man knelt down, reach down and gave Wade’s sack a squeeze–immediately Wade felt a series of spasms and grunts wrack its way through him, his tiny cock releasing a massive amount of cum right into his jock.

“Dang, that’s pretty sensitive man–like, what would happen if I did…this?” He stood up again, and delivered a solid kick right to Wade’s massive balls with his boot.

It hurt–it hurt so much that he crumpled to the ground away from the cock he’d been sucking and curled up on the ground, but the pain eased away and pleasure took over–his cock pumping out blast after blast of cum for half a minute, his seed soaking and overflowing the jock he had on until it formed a puddle on the pavement beneath him as he shivered, grunted and groaned.

“He could go further though.”

“What would you suggest?”

“How about a complete pain pig? Piercings, tattoos.”

“I could see that, but what if we–”

He had to get out of here. he had to get away from these guys, but even if he did, he’d just be trapped like this…wouldn’t he? Wade took a few deep breaths–the men were still talking…or plotting, rather, what to do to him. The man’s grip on the gun was loose, and a plan formed in his mind. He rolled over slowly, to his knees, and as quick as he could, grabbed the gun from the man’s hand, and before either of them could stop him, he fired the gun at them both, watching their nuts swell in their pants–perfect targets. While they both gawked at their crotches, he pummeled each of them into submission, until they were sobbing on the ground, their cocks pumping cum into their pants, and then he took off running as fast as he could towards home, gun in hand–praying he could figure out how to fix what they’d done to him.