Features & Bugs (Part 5)

I tried the door, but my body wouldn’t even open it. I tried climbing out a window, but even if I could have fit through, my body refused to pass an invisible threshold. Anger gave way to doubt, into terror. He really had done something to me, and I had no idea what it was. We’d been dating for months; was all of it a lie? Or was it just this? Who even was I? I didn’t dare go near the computer–I was certain that had something to do with all of this. Instead, I ate. I ate like a nervous wreck. I couldn’t stop myself. Around three in the afternoon, I realized I still hadn’t had a shower all weekend, and I reeked of cum and piss, but my body wouldn’t even touch the water when I tried to get in. I ransacked his room, his office, looking for anything, a clue, something. All the while, the horniness just kept building. Plugs helped, but they kept falling out until I found one the size of a toddler’s arm.

I wanted to watch the videos again. What would those pigs have done, in my position? I knew this was a terrible question to ask, a terrible idea to even be having, but it comforted me. It comforts me, I mean. I…really do want to be one of them, you know. That’s impossible to deny. Maybe not always, but now? This thing I am now? I do, I really do. But I resisted. I resist. I don’t know why. Austin came home that night at around seven, and I’d emptied to house of food. Sure enough, the man was with him–who I’d seen both at work and at the club–smoking, even older than he’d been, now at least in his fifties. As soon as I see the terror in his eyes, I know he’s in the same position as I am. Aware, but unable to articulate anything, unable to disobey. We both followed Austin down into the basement of his house, and he locked us into two sturdy wooden chairs he has rooted in the concrete floor, and he told us the story, from the beginning.

He’d only been intending it to be mind control, he told us. It had worked like a charm, the first version of the program, when he’d made me gay. Made me attracted to him, and we’d started dating. But something strange had happened when he’d tried to make me a bottom–he’d included in the programming a video clip of an older chub getting fucked…and when he’d used the conditioning on me, I’d become older, and fatter–just like the man in the video. This last week–this had all been version 2.0. He talked a lot about brain waves, about sensitivity. He’d gotten access to company medical records, and discovered that the two of us were the only ones the program would have that effect on, and sure enough…here we were.

He hadn’t expected me to catch on of course. He also hadn’t expected either of our minds to hold together as well as they had. Of course, neither of us could remember anything about our old selves, but we could remember that we’d been different. I don’t know if it was cruel or kind to show us old pictures he’d lifted from social media–I’d been thin and young. Muscular even. I’d had a girlfriend. We’d been engaged, and talking about having kids together. Now, I couldn’t even remember her name. I realized he could have shown the pictures of literally anyone else, and I’d have the same relationship with that person as this one. What made that old me realer than this? How could I mourn something I could barely believe? I think I took it a bit better–the daddy, Daddy Mark, he was screaming and crying by the end, screaming and shouting and cursing…I just listened. Maybe it was the pig in me, that made it easier to resign myself to what was coming next. After all, pigs were meant to be used. At least…I’m being useful still.

Now, we’re both at the forefront of Austin’s testing, blazing a path towards a version 3.0. It’s features will include remote brainwave recalibration, and mental pathway revision to go with memory repression. He’s going to kill what remains of us both, he’s already getting closer. Mark is losing it already, I can hear him over there, becoming who he’s meant to be now. Rough older daddy, smoking like a chimney, desperate to dominate anyone in his path. I’ll be next, when Austin figures out how to break me open, finally. I’m…looking forward to it. To being a real pig, finally. I’m tired of being caught in the middle here, and it isn’t like I can go back. Austin’s promised me that he’ll make me a good master. A hard, rough, muscled skinhead master to brutalize me right. I’ll be in films of my own, I hope, one day, crawling around on the concrete, head finally empty. I want to forget. I’ll forget anything if it means I can forget this. This tape will remember me, but thankfully…thankfully, I won’t.

It had always been Dave’s dream to retire early. Hit his fifties, get out of his boring middle management job, and do everything he’d always wanted to do. Travel the world! Play as much golf as he wanted! Get back into shape! Fix up his house! He could do anything he wanted, but when it finally happened…he discovered that more than anything else, he was bored.

His wife resented him for being home all the time. he had enough money to live comfortably, but not enough to really fulfill his wildest dreams…which it turned out, weren’t really all that wild. They fought, he felt restless. Two years after retiring, he decided that he needed a job again. Nothing big, nothing like what he had. Just something to pass the time and give his weeks some structure.

He picked up a job as a bartender downtown. He’d done it before, in his youth, to help him pay his way through college, and the skills were still there, even if the drinks were a bit more complicated now. He enjoyed the bullshitting, he enjoyed the long nights when he didn’t have to worry about seeing his wife, he even liked flirting with the women a bit. He wasn’t a cheater of course, but he was a handsome older man, and it boosted his ego.

Then, another chain of bars bought them out suddenly, looking to expand into a new neighborhood. The promised that all of the employees would keep their jobs, but the entire atmosphere changed. The redecorated, making everything darker and dingy. The clientele became almost entirely men, most of them dressed in some of the strangest clothing. He discovered then, that he was working at a gay bar…and that he was changing too. Men were flirting with him…and he found himself flirting back. He tried to bring himself to quit, but every time he confronted Rod, the new manager, the big brute kept talking him down, and even gave him longer, later shifts–telling him the more he worked, the more he’d fit in and enjoy himself.

The late shifts were worse. The later it got, the rowdier the men became, groping and catcalling him. He told himself he hated it, but he sucked his first cock on his second night, and kept sucking, raking in more in tips than he imagined being possible. He’d try to leave the house in casual clothes, but each time he came home, he discovered his casual, conservative attire have become some strange leather or rubber garment. He had a thick beard and a shaved head. He picked up smoking, trying to ease his growing panic. The tattoos and piercings…he couldn’t even remember where they’d come from. And now, she’d left.

She’d left, and here he was. Smoking, ready to go out, another night working at Pigtown. This house…why did he even come back here anymore? He didn’t belong here. Every night, someone wanted to take him home and plow his nasty hole…why did he keep saying no? Why did he keep leaving? He couldn’t remember, and that was the last time anyone saw Dave again.

Commission: Hey, Daddy

Commissioned by @hughmichelsen

Jerry’s phone started ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out, saw it was Simon, and sighed. On a Tuesday? Seriously? They both had work in the morning, and he wasn’t really in the mood for a hook up. And Simon…well, he was into some crazy stuff. He always wanted Jerry wearing his leather gear, but he’d never had much interest in the whole BDSM scene. The few pieces he had were from a halloween party a few years earlier, and he’d worn them only when Simon begged. Pain and humiliation always ended up turning his stomach more than turning him on, but they got Simon off big time. It was fun on occasion, he supposed, but he couldn’t handle it tonight. He let it go to voicemail, and went back to watching TV. Simon didn’t leave a message, but a moment later, he heard the chime of a text message. Curious, he opened it up.

>>Hey Daddy, call me I know yr horny

Jerry felt his cock start to get hard, but seriously? Daddy? He was twenty-three–a year younger than Simon–and far closer to a twink than a daddy. But damn, if he wasn’t horny all of a sudden. He reached down his sweats and started stroking his cock, reading the message again and again, unable to help himself. After a moment, another message arrived.

>>I know you’re reading these Daddy
>>Tell me about that hot cock of yours I want it in me so bad

His thumbs were frozen over the phone keyboard. He wasn’t actually thinking about replying…was he? He was hard though. Fuck, why the hell not? He slipped his cock out of his sweats–he must be horny because it seemed bigger than usual–snapped a pic and sent it Simon’s way, and added a text.

>>Hell yeah daddy’s hot

After he sent it, he blushed, realizing he’d actually called himself “Daddy.” Why was he even encouraging him in the first place?

>>I love that big dick of yrs
>>You should put it here

A pic arrived–Simon’s puckered asshole. Jerry’s earlier hesitation was forgotten–he was horny, and he could use a fuck, even if it was Simon. He redialed Simon, and after a couple of rings his friend picked up.

“Hey, Daddy,” he answered.

“Fuck…why are you calling me that?” Jerry asked, his heart pounding in his ears, “Look, whatever. You wanna come over?”

“I don’t know, daddy. What are you doing right now?”

“Don’t tease me, boy.” Jerry winced. Boy? Simon wasn’t a boy. What was he even saying?

“Heh, I can imagine you right now, lounging on the couch, smoking one of those thick big cigars of yours, drinking that whiskey you love. I can almost smell it on you over the phone.”

Now this was getting weird. Jerry wasn’t really into role play, and so he paused before he replied, taking a drag off his cigar. He was kind of drunk though–how much had he had? The fifth he’d bought earlier was about half empty–when the fuck had he drank all that? “Heh, you know what daddy likes, I’ll give you that, boy.”

“I bet you’re wearing that leather gear of yours too. Not that you wear anything that isn’t leather, right daddy?”

“Hell yeah boy, got my harness on, vest and chaps, and those big boots you like.” The words were rolling off his tongue, bypassing his head entirely, but what it the hell was he saying? He was telling the truth though, he had his boots up on the coffee table, one gloved hand wrapped around the shaft of his big cock, thinking about the boy’s ass. “Now, you comin’ over or not?”

“I bet those boots could use a shine. You want me to shine them for you, with my tongue, daddy?”

“Aww, fuck boy–you can suck on these until your tongue’s black as long as I can fuck that hole of yours.”

“I bet that harness looks good on you, cinched tight against those thick muscle of yours. I’ve never seen a daddy as built as you, especially one in his fifties. Makes you look so hot, that grey hair cropped short, your thick beard, and of course the hair all over your body. It shows off those tattoos of yours too, daddy.”

What was he talking about? Jerry was the same age as him–certainly not in his fifties. And yet, when he looked down at himself, everything Simon had described as plain as day. He ran a rough hand up his ridged abs to his slab pecs, tweaking one of his thick nipples. Inside his head, he was screaming. This was wrong, all of this was wrong. He didn’t know what was happening, but all he could do was give a low growl over the phone, “I’m tired of talkin’ boy, get your ass over here.”

Behind him, there was a knock on the door.

“I’m already here daddy, come and let me in.”

Jerry set down his phone, wondering what kind of game Simon was playing here. He took his booted feet off the table and stood up, but lost his balance, nearly falling over as tottered to one side. He couldn’t have drunk that much, could he? The world was spinning, but something else was wrong too–this body didn’t feel like his, it didn’t feel right at all. Nauseous and worried that he might throw up, he stumbled into the bathroom, but paused when he saw himself in the mirror, Muir cap on his head, his face coated with grey beard, his muscular chest heaving. If felt like two minds were trying to fit into his head at the same time. One of them, Daddy, was wondering what the hell they were doing in here, when there was some hot boypussy right outside for him to fuck, but the other, the real him (was it the real him? What was even real right now?) was trying to figure out what had happened. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t what he was supposed to look like, and yet, he looked exactly like Simon had described.

Simon. There was another, more insistent knock on the door. Simon had done something to him, but what? This was crazy, people couldn’t just…change like this! But what else could it be? That freak. He was gonna get it. Yeah, he was gonna pummel that boy good, and then plow that hole deep with his cock, fuck yeah. That’s what you get for messing with Daddy.

Growling, he stalked to the front door and flung it open. Simon stood there on the porch, shivering in the cold evening air, dressed in tight leather pants and a harness. “Fuck, what took you so long!” Simon said, “ I was waiting forever.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jerry said, grabbed Simon by the neck (fuck, did one of his hands actually reach around this boy’s whole neck?) and hauled him inside, before shoving him up against the wall, blowing a cloud of thick smoke into his face. “What the fuck did you do to me, boy?”

“Simon just stared at him, agape, “Holy fuck, it worked…it worked even better than I thought it would.”

“What worked, fucker?”

Simon smiled, “Oh come on Daddy, you don’t really wanna talk, do you? Let’s just fuck and have some fun.” He reached down and grabbed hold of Jerry’s cock. He glared at Simon, but when he plucked the cigar from his mouth and started kissing him, Jerry didn’t stop him. The boy’s mouth felt so soft and tasted sweet–he couldn’t wait to see how it felt around his cock. But this didn’t answer anything, Simon was just trying to distract him.

He pushed away from the boy and the wall, trying to get a hold of his thoughts. “No…no, first you tell me what you did. Tell me how to fix this.”

“Oh Jerry, you’re such a bore, did you know that?” Simon asked, and walked up to him, “A boring vanilla twink like all the rest, but this is such an improvement.”

“You did do something to me!”

“I wanted a daddy, and I just happened to have a hair of yours at my place for the spell. No hard feelings, Jerry, but I have a feeling you won’t mind much soon enough. In fact, once you cum in this hole of mine, the old you will be gone forever, and you’ll be my hot, rough, abusive daddy for the rest of your life.”

Jerry just stared at him, “No–no fucking way. This is insane.”

“Don’t mess with a witch, Jerry,” Simon said, turned around and bent over, “Now get over here and plow me, I need your seed.”

“You can’t just fuckin’ erase me! I have a job! People will notice I’m gone.”

“Oh the spell is much too complex to be tricked by that,” Simon said, “Once you shoot, reality will warp around you–no one will think anything’s amiss at all. Now, get over here, I’m done talking–it’s time to fuck.”

Jerry backed away, and Simon followed him across the room, laughing as he tried to get away. Finally, Jerry stumbled against the coffee table and tumbled onto the couch, and Simon leapt onto him, pinning him there, grabbing each of Jerry’s thick nipples and giving them a twist, grinding his ass against Jerry’s rigid shaft.

“You know what your problem is Daddy? You think too much. Good thing you’re just a dumb brute. Yeah, a violent, rough brute–you don’t need to think when you can solve your problems with those fists of yours.”

“No…no, fuckin’ shut up, boy!” Jerry shouted, but he could already feel the edges of his mind dulling, and in their place came a deep well of anger he’d never felt before.

“Yeah, just a stupid, muscle bound, aggressive daddy. That’s all you are now!”

“I said shut the fuck up!” Jerry screamed, grabbed Simon around the waist, sat up and threw him over his lap. He ripped open the back of Simon’s leather pants and started slamming his palm against his ass cheeks, “Don’t call me stupid! I ain’t smart, but I can still throw ya round the room if I gotta, boy! Now fuckin’ count ‘em out, bitch.”

Simon enjoyed the paddling a whole lot more than Jerry would have liked, but he’d have plenty of time to teach him some real discipline later. He finished up after twenty smacks, and he couldn’t resist anymore. He slid one thick finger into Simon’s ass, and then another one. “Oh Daddy, go on, taste that boy hole, I know you love the taste of boy butt.”

Simon crawled forward on the couch, and Jerry got down behind him, running his beard against the boy’s soft crack, probing deep with his tongue, getting the hole good and slick. When it was loose, he got up, lined the head of his cock up with the hole, and drove it in deep with one thrust. Simon groaned loudly, but Jerry’s simple mind could only focus on one thing–fucking. “Yeah, you’re gonna get it boy, this what you get for messin’ with Daddy!”

“Fuck yeah Daddy, pump me full of your seed!”

Through the fog of his mind, Jerry realized too late that Simon had tricked him into giving him exactly what he wanted. He tried to stop, but his body refused to obey him, no matter how hard he fought. His load was building and he exploded deep in Simon’s ass, and as he shot, he felt the final shreds of his old mind rip apart and scatter like ash on the wind…but that wasn’t the only thing coming apart. Looking around him, the world was bending and warping, even Simon beneath him. The spell was warping everything, and he pulled his cock free and stumbled through the mess of reality until everything finally came to rest.

Looking around, his apartment was gone. He didn’t live in an apartment anymore–he lived in a house–and he was in his basement. No, his dungeon. Yeah, his dungeon, where he trained his boys and pigs…yeah, that’s right. What had he been thinking about? He was certain there was something else he should be remembering, but he couldn’t think of what, and the sensation faded away quickly. He licked his bearded lips–a cigar, where was his cigar? He lit himself a new one from a humidor against the wall, and sighed a thick cloud of smoke.

“Oh…oh no, what the…what the fuck happened? This isn’t right…”

Jerry looked over his shoulder and saw his pig Simon standing in front of the full length mirrors that lined one side of the dungeon. He’d picked him up a few years ago–Simon had wanted to be one of his boys, but the fucker had a huge attitude problem. Jerry had decided to make him a pig instead–a hot, nasty muscle pig, and the work was showing nicely. At five foot seven, the two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and fat made him look like a thug–and the tattoos and piercings that covered his entire body helped too. The one thing he had liked about the pig was his masochism–he’d never met someone who liked pain as much as Simon. It showed on his body, which was covered with scars from heavy floggings, his nose bulbous from multiple breakings, his eyes puffy and black. His cock was locked up tight, in a cage lined with spikes. The ultimate torture for the pig–he loved pain so much, once he started getting hard he couldn’t stop himself–he’d broken the skin plenty of times, and Jerry had to take the cage off regularly to make sure he didn’t get an infection. But now, the pig was looking at himself in horror.

“Pig, what the fuck are ya doin’ standin’ up? You forget yer fuckin’ place?” He picked up a billy club as he passed a table and smacked it across Simon’s shoulder blades hard enough to knock him to his knees.

Simon looked up at him, terrified. “Jerry! Jerry, it;s me! Something went wrong, the spell was too strong!”

The club slammed into his mouth this time, hard enough to knock a tooth loose, but the pig ought to know better than to use any name other than master. He loos good with a few teeth missing anyway–Jerry planned on getting them all replaced with gold caps before selling the pig off to a new home. Still, they’d just had a pretty long session–maybe the pig just needed a rest. Of course, he couldn’t let this dumbshit go unpunished–he grabbed the pig by the chain collar and dragged him, gagging, across the dungeon floor to the isolation cell. “I think someone needs a few days in isolation, for all this crap.”

Simon protested, but Jerry tossed him inside and locked him in. Perfect darkness and perfect silence–give him a few days of that and he’ll remember his place. Daddy Jerry admired himself in the mirror for a moment–and went upstairs. As much fun as this Pig was, he was starting to get bored–almost time to sell him off. He had a few guys looking to be trained by Daddy–maybe he’d invite a few of them over and see what they had in them. With a chuckle, he turned off the dungeon lights–he couldn’t hear Simon screaming in the darkness, and wouldn’t have cared if he could have.

Daddy Cop Part 1

How in the hell did he get turned around in here? Jeff and his partner were only supposed to check for any minors on the premises, but now he couldn’t even find his way out. Jeff had gone in alone–Peter, his young partner, was too lazy to give much of a fuck, and had stuck around outside to smoke one of those cigars of his. Jeff sighed and hefted his belt up under his gut. This close to retirement, and the department gives him a fucking hotshot. Even though Jeff was the senior partner by about twenty-five years, Peter couldn’t be bothered to care at all about what the older man might have to say.

Jeff pushed through another crowd and into another room, looking for the exit, but the bar was really something closer to a complex–and there definitely weren’t any minors here. Hell, if there were, they would stick out like a sore thumb in this place–one of those gay bear bars apparently–but there had been some rumors about strange happenings in this club, and so the department was looking for a possible reason to start a broader investigation. The place was smoky too–but it wasn’t pot–it smelled more like tobacco, but as much as he would have liked to enforce the ban on indoor smoking, he couldn’t find anyone smoking at all, and then he looked down at his hand, and found the huge pipe sitting in his palm.

Well that explained why the smoke kept following him, but what in the world was he doing with a pipe? He shouldn’t be smoking, Marsha would kill him, even if…even if the smoke was kind of arousing, and…and who was Marsha? He brought the pipe back up to his mouth and sucked down another lungful of smoke, like he’d been doing for several minutes now, completely oblivious to it, and he wasn’t quite able to figure out where the line between his terror and arousal was. He ran one gloved hand over his hairy gut, feeling himself shiver as his cock got a bit hard.

Wait, his belly? He looked down, and saw that his uniform had disappeared–or at least most of it had…or had he come in this? He usually wore a leather harness on his nights out to the club after all, and he loved leaving his dick hanging out from his chaps. His big, fat daddy dick, with a big PA in the head. A skimpily dressed cub danced up to him suddenly and started grinding up on him, and with a growl Jeff leaned over and blew a huge breath of smoke down the young man’s throat, watching him squirm and writhe in pleasure. When he broke the kiss off, Jeff shoved the cub down onto his knees and roughly face fucked him on the dance floor, a small ring of men surrounding them and cheering them on, until Jeff shot a load across the cub’s face.

Something was wrong. Something had happened to him, he had to get out of here, didn’t he? He had…someone was waiting for him outside. His partner? No…not his partner, his…his boy. His cub…his son…yeah, his hot son, but he needed some discipline, Jeff thought, his cock hardening again as he tromped through the club to the entrance and marched up the steps into the cool night air.

To be concluded…

It isn’t an easy job, trust me–we get some very troubled kids who come to our camp. Sometimes they’re sponsored because they’ve been expelled from their schools, other kids have gotten into trouble with the law or ran away from home, but we have a very high success rate for turning what many see as hopeless delinquents into productive young men ready to be reintroduced to society. My methods, I admit, can seem extreme, but they do work–the extensive hypnosis, the meditation sessions, the affirmation group therapy seems like a bunch of hogwash, but my methods work, and seeing it work is its own reward, well, that and the occasional prize I keep for myself.

This summer, it was Brad. Brad came to us from a severely broken home, and he was falling very far behind in school, generally slipping through the cracks from year to year, occasionally getting held back. At the age of nineteen, he was still a sophomore in high school, and this camp was widely regarded as his last chance. When I had my first counseling session with him, he barely trusted me, but some induced hypnosis cleared that up relatively quickly, and I realized we had a much more difficult case on our hands than I’d thought. A history of abuse from his father, and severe dyslexia had left Brad essentially illiterate–no wonder he was struggling. But he was so sweet, really, and wanted a daddy to love him so badly, how could I resist?

It started slowly, convincing him to start wetting his sleeping bag, and the camp began requiring him to wear diapers at night, something he found himself not protesting at all. After a few more subtle accidents during the day, I had him wearing them all the time, and before too long he didn’t even want to take them off–he couldn’t take them off actually, only a certified daddy like me could change his dirty diapers for him. Wearing a diaper helped him feel safe and confident, and reminded him of his daddy, of how good it felt to be wrapped up in daddy’s arms, with daddy’s cock up his ass. He was like putty in my hands, and so, since he was nineteen, he came home with me at the end of summer, instead of to the foster care system.

Well, the good news is that Brad has made a complete turn around. He’s all set to graduate this year, and has already caught up with this year’s seniors with my tutoring and hypnosis. Of course, he’ll be coming to study at the local college where I teach, and working as a counselor with me at the camp during the summer. Having a little boy around is so hot, I think we’ll try to find him a brother this summer as well.

Jeff didn’t know where all this gear was coming from, but he knew he wouldn’t stop. The thong and cock ring had come first, and he hadn’t taken it off for weeks now–not even for work. At home though, he’d drag in the next package outside his apartment, strip down to the thong as soon as he was inside, and then rip open the box to see what new treasures he’d been sent.

Already he’d gotten harnesses, chaps, rubber body suits, jackets, boots, jocks–everything he could imagine. He spent his evening in various states of dress, jacking off and smoking for hours at a time, but not tonight. Tonight was special–he could tell. There hadn’t been a box today, and he was milking his cock, waiting, when he heard a knock. Outside he found a young leather cub on his knees. “Hello, Sir,” he said.

“Shut it cub, daddy’s horny,” Jeff replied, dragged the boy inside and fucked his face, now a leather daddy forever more.