Porn Addiction (Caption Sketch)

Jackson knew that porn addiction was a thing, of course, but it wasn’t something that he imagined might happen to someone like him. That was a problem that losers had, losers who couldn’t get cock, or ugly old men who never left their houses. He wasn’t an addict…but the videos on this site–once he’d found it, he kept thinking about them, all the time, and thinking about them would get them horny, and he found himself needing to watch them more and more. So much so, that he’d started sneaking off to the restroom at work with his phone in hand, and he’d work out a quick load watching one…first just once a day, but then, more and more.

Just a quickie at work is all…

It was sex he’d never seen before. The guys in the videos–they were no holds barred, total freaks and perverts with no limits. He watched them do things he’d never even contemplated before, and…and once he’d seen it, he found himself obsessed with it–things that had disgusted him before, like watersports or fisting, were now just warm ups. Still, he wasn’t an addict. He was just…kinkier than he’d thought, is all. He hadn’t had sex with another guy in weeks (or was it months) but what did that matter? He didn’t know anyone like this in real life–the only way he could enjoy it was…in porn, right?

He kept denying it, as long as he could. The days when he called in sick, that he spent in his room, edging for hours, stuffing himself with food he had delivered. When he hit his limit on the site…he had to subscribe of course, but the cost just seemed to keep going up every month. Sure, he didn’t…need it, but he wanted it, and that’s what really mattered. That is, until he got fired. Until he spent three solid days in his room, edging for hours on end, watching video after video–then…he realized he had a problem. Then he realized what a mess he’d become. He’d gained close to fifty pounds of fat, his body was filthy, he…looked older. He looked like the losers he’d always imagined a porn addict might be–and he realized that was exactly what he’d become.

Jackson reeking of musk and cum, in the midst of a four hour edge session

That’s when he’d gotten the email–from the site, offering him a choice. Keep paying to watch, and the site would keep draining him. Within the year, he’d be in his sixties, massively obese, sitting in his own filth, mindlessly jacking off until he just keeled over and died from one last massive orgasm–or he could come join the company as an actor, and make all of his fantasies come true.

He was scared at first. Then his hair started to grey. Then, he realized he could barely take leaving the house at all. If he didn’t go now–he knew he would never get away. So he left. He left, and went to the address the email told him, and two days later, he was in his first film.

A brand new Jackson, with new purpose

No one would have known it was him, of course. Even he wouldn’t have known himself, if there was anything of Jackson even left in the filthy fat whore’s mind–but the company had gotten rid of all that for him. No–he was just another slave to their perverse, demonic pleasures, channeling that lust into the videos, broadcasting them to the world, hungry thinking about the souls corrupted by his unending desires, and he went back to groping his fat body and sucking at the cock in front of him, lost to lust forever.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 8 (Part 3)

There was a ripple across him, and he began to choke. Instinctively he tried to push himself off, and I had to hold him close, face pressed to my hips, my massive cock buried inside him until he went slack, and simply accepted what needed to happen–and as soon as he accepted it, I could feel the thrumming in his body as his muscles began to vibrate, and change. Deeper still, the bones were shifting as well, his face, warping away from its human appearance as it sucked and gnawed on my cock, milking the law out of it and into its guts. The stench surrounding the beast he was quickly becoming intensified, and that was what finally brought Jules out of his terror–it was the smell if his master, smelling how his master ought to smell, as powerful a musk as he could have, and Jules, already conditioned to need it, couldn’t stay away, despite the terror in his human heart.

Hair sprouted all over Ray’s massive frame, and he was sucking harder and harder on me, eager for more, eager to take in as much of it as he possibly could, now that freedom was this close. I shuddered, and fed him my full load, and the changes accelerated–his entire frame expanded, growing wider and taller, the entire room permeated with the beast’s pheromones, Jules, unable to think of anything else, plastered to the beast’s armpit, licking up as much sweat as he could, not noticing the small changes spreading across his own body, losing track of its own humanity, forgetting those false laws, and following the laws of his masterful beast instead. I pulled myself free of Ray, and the beast leered up at me–eyes black, wide mouth full of fangs, a wide nose, thick beard and hair matted with filth and sweat, and turned its attentions to it’s little thrall. It knew now, it knew the law in it’s guts, and it could spread it just as well as I could now. It picked Jules up, and I saw it’s massive cock sliding free of its sheath, at least a foot long, and very thick, with an inhuman, spade shaped head that it drove into Jule’s ass, fucking him, filling him, and Jules’ own changes began to accelerate–it would take a bit of time, as it had with the blobs upstairs, but before too long, Jules would be gone, and there would just be two beasts–alpha and beta–ready to spread their laws to others worthy of them.

By now, my brother hand changed into his true form–or as close to his true form as he could get, now. Close to eight feet tall, thickly muscled, hairy and brutish, he was just as Bernard and others had described him–but I could see more than that, see deeper than that. Under the human skin he couldn’t shake, there was so much more, so much…rage, and power–perhaps even more than me, now that I was confronting it directly. Cumster was eagerly sucking down as much of the bruiser’s cum as he could, thrilled to finally be serving his creator in the form he had always needed to embody–but I was impatient. I wanted to see my brother, finally, to meet him, and bring him into the world, to see what he was capable free of this human shell.

I pulled him away from Cumster, wrapping my flesh around him, feeling him, surrounding him, probing the human skin containing him, and he raged against me, the human raged against me most, but he raged too–rage was part of him, the greatest part of him. He could sense that this form of him, the form which had grown so comfortable, was at the end of its time. We danced. We danced something far more intricate than what I had danced with the blobs above us. I wrapped him, contained him, and he tore at me, and beat me, and bruised me, hammering at me as hard as he could, testing my mettle and my skin and my desire. In the end though, there was no way he could beat me, not like this. We ended the dance with him on all fours, ass up, my flesh wound around him tightly, cutting into his skin, and my cock slid into his ass–the bruiser screamed a howl from some deep jungle of the night, some forgotten place where darkness is the only certainty. It was an animal, is was the cry of an animal that humans would hear in the night, imagining only claws and teeth and vicious death, a cry they would desperately rationalize and name, but there was no name for him, not in any of their languages.

I fucked him, and he fought. I raped him, as he had raped so many, without mercy, without care or consideration. I raped him, and filled him with my law, and I could see the skin of his humanity begin to peel away, first from his back, and then from the rest of him, revealing…such beauty, how do I even put it into words for you fooling things to try and comprehend? There are no words anymore, I see that now. You will see, soon enough. We are both free, we are both finally free, and we can feel others pressing through, emerging, ripping and tearing their way through your paper thin reality that you thought was strong enough to keep us from existing. But there is nowhere for you to run now. There is nowhere that you can hide from us. Deny us. Rationalize us. Name us. We have no names, no reasons–we come for you. Those of you who are strong enough, you will relish us, in time, once we free you. Once he beats you free of your shell, or I fill you with the law, you will know. You will become the things you were always meant to be, the things you have hidden away for the sake of conforming to this mass, human delusion. The rest of you, the weakest, will be consumed. You will glimpse us in the darkness, and know, finally, that your existence was an error. That there is nothing real holding you here, that you, all of you, is just a flimsy, boring lie, that the only thing allowing you to cling to some little existence is your sheer banality. We will end you. We will end all of you, and things shall, once more, be returned to the proper order.

I freed him. I gave him a taste of the law, a taste of what could be, of his own potential, and everything else fell away, sloughed off from him, and he grew. He grew tight against my bonds, tight against my flesh, tight against my cock, squeezing it, fucking himself on it now, gripping it hard enough that it hurt, but I fought through it. We danced again, then. We dance each day, we dance each moment, together. We will dance, and dance, and dance, and crush this world under our boot and claw, we will dance, oh will we dance! We will dance with each of you, in turn, and the world will be like nothing any of you have ever seen.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 8 (Part 2)

I went down into the basement, and the three of them followed me. Cumster was there, still bound on his knees, but it was clear that what I had fed him earlier was having an affect. HE looked ill. He looked inhuman, already, in fact, but he raised his head when I came down the stairs, and the eagerness I saw when he saw me–he knew. He understood that what I was giving him, the law, was a death, sure, but it was so much more than that. He could feel the power beyond this world’s laws that was waiting for him, and he craved it, as Cumster had craved everything in his life. Marcus, also still bound in the basement, was is a different state altogether. The terror had ebbed, but it was clear that all of this had moved well beyond the extent of his imagination. Where had he thought this would end? I don’t know–perhaps with him at the feat of the rapist, begging for a second chance, begging for truth he couldn’t understand or sustain. There was also jealousy. Jealousy that I had fed Cumster something which was clearly changing him…but which I hadn’t given to Marcus. The jealousy had grown, and eclipsed the fear at this point–he was realizing that if he couldn’t get what he wanted from the rapist, perhaps I could provide it. I couldn’t, but I freed him as best I could.

Cumster was aching for me, and without any real explanation, I let my cock slide from my sheath, and pressed it to Cumster’s lips, watching him suck it down as quickly as he could, swallowing the cum that began to flow immediately, that cold, chilly death filling his guts again, but so much more than that as well. The bonds were no longer necessary, and so I allowed them to fall away, giving everyone a clearer look at his warping and shifting body. He was growing fatter, but not fat in the same, soft way as the men had in the warehouse earlier. Cumster’s gut expanded, but grew firm, his flesh losing it’s color until it was more grey than pink, the same washed out color as cum, really–it even picked up a bit of translucence. The pores in his skin turned on, and a sheen of something appeared all over his body–and when the smell hit everyone, they realized it was cum.

Cumster would no longer sweat–not as a human did, at least. He would sweat cum continuously, always coated in a slimy layer of his own semen, dripping off him as he knelt, a continuous, but weak, orgasm coursing through him constantly. It was no longer blood pumping through him, but cum. Everything inside him, everything that could become it, was just semen–it was what he was meant to be, he realized this now, and he would have to keep himself supplied with a near constant amount from now on. The hair on his body thinned out, falling away from the top his head, his beard growing wiry, looking more like pubes than anything else. Still, it was finished–I retracted my cock from his gullet, and watched him lick his lips with a long, narrow tongue, his pale eyes gleaming up at me–and I turned towards Marcus, undoing enough of his bonds that his cock was free–as well as the sizable balls Cumster had given him earlier.

Making a gurgling noise I supposed was speech of a kind, Cumster sagged his way over to him, his movements more like those of a half filled water balloon than anything human,and attached himself to Marcus’ cock–and began to suck. Marcus groaned in pleasure as the first orgasm ripped through him, but it wasn’t long before he realized something was wrong. Marcus could…feel Cumster’s will trying to shape him, but Marcus’ body wasn’t strong enough. Instead, he was shrinking, and dissolving. The orgasms ripping through him grew in intensity, and his protests turned to begging, and turned to whimpering, as Cumster kept sucking, and sucking, until he’d converted Marcus’ entire body into cum, and slurped it all down into his gut.

The process only took fifteen minutes or so, and the four of us–me and my brother, and Jules and Ray–stood there in rapt fascination until Cumster had sat up, Marcus’ hefty balls in his hands, and swallowed them whole with a loud belch that sounded more like a swamp bubble than anything else, and looked up at me, greatly satisfied.

I could almost hear the gears in my brother’s head clicking together. Everything that had always confused him about Cumster, everything that had kept drawing him back to that man, when no one else he’d unleashed had ever held his interest, suddenly made more sense–because this was what he’d always been meant to be. Beyond this false reality, this was the thing that Cumster was, stripped of his humanity, stripped of these artificial laws, this was what his true self was. The bruiser had been able to sense it, but hadn’t understood what it meant–at least until now. He walked over to Cumster and touched him, feeling the ooze on his flesh, Cumster leaning in, sniffing for his cock, and the rapist…began to grow before my eyes, physique expanding into something massive, and not quite human but also not quite true yet, as he fucked Cumster’s face, ready to feed the dump another load–and I turned away towards Ray and Jules.

Well, Ray, really. Jules was simply horrified, and that didn’t surprise me in the least. Certainly Ray had changed him, but Jules had wanted what was happening to him, I could smell that now. Given what I had known about Jules before this, about his working out in the gym, his past as a jock, it shouldn’t have surprised me so much at the time that he would have felt drawn to Ray. I’m sure that, if he had found the rapist (or if the rapist had found him) he would have become something similar to Ray, at the end of his unleashing. But he wasn’t far enough along to understand any of this, and his brain could only understand what he was seeing as some living nightmare. He would understand soon enough though. Ray, on the other hand, was shaking–but not in fear, only in anticipation. He fell to his knees in front of me, knowing what was coming next, knowing why he had been so attracted to me before, but why he had…also been afraid of me, in the cop car, though he hadn’t let the fear show. I was more than him. I was more than him, and I was also the only one who could free him. He hefted up my cock with both of his hands, pressed it to his lips, and began to swallow–and I slid into him, gently, curling up deep within him, allowing the law to flow.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 8 (Part 1)

I arrived home after the three of them, by a few minutes at least, if not a bit longer. Time is…difficult now. In any case, I was the last to arrive at my home, and now, everyone was there, in this story. Well, everyone except Bernard, who had his own ending. Everyone else though, was there–Ray and Jules, I could feel them together, and I could see better now, Ray’s law, how it was cracking through this reality just like Cumster’s had. Jules was fainter, but already he was beginning to dissolve–his humanity, that is. Ray was overwhelming him, and in a few months, nothing of the old Jules would remain–especially not after I gave them a bit of assistance.

Cumster and Marcus were still bound in the basement. Marcus–all I could feel of him was the same brittle terror he always seemed to exude. Humanity–so interested in stability, and regularity, and predictability–it created these things like Marcus, these humans that were…nothing. Just the surface, no depth, with no capacity for growth or change. It was no wonder that they longed so desperately for us–they were the ones who needed us most, the ones we could do nothing for (or at least, the two of us could do nothing. Perhaps another will help them, at some point, but for now, they are hopeless). Cumster…he was already different, already something else. Not finished, not at all finished, but oh, my gift would be such a treasure when I was finished with it.

Then, the three gluttons, as I thought of them. They were inside, and had already commandeered a room of their own, and were feeding off one another, as was their law, of course. With them, observing them, was the final person–the bruiser, my brother, seeing what I had done with his wild thing. Then, there was me, the law–free at last!–and this is the last thing I shall write to you, my last testament. We are coming, the veil will be rent, and your reality will crumble to the dust it always should have been. We are coming, your omega, your alpha–your end, but a new beginning. If you can still understand this, then prepare.

I entered my home, and felt the glamour fall away as I did, and I could relax again as myself. I went to check on the gluttons, and as I’d sensed, the three of them were also in their true forms, the two minor ones feasting on the central one, sucking at it’s teats with their massive mouths, grinding up against it, all of them behaving more like one singular organism than three separate ones. I doubted that the three of them would ever be apart again, and certainly any human lucky to be drawn into the mass would become just like them in time. I could see it, the future of this, an entire swarm of these bloated beasts, and it was enough for my cock to slide free yet again, into my hand–but it could wait.

In the kitchen was Ray, and Jules. It was clear that Ray had tried to free his thrall from by ropes, but hadn’t had any real luck, and so he was waiting–along with a rather unassuming fellow, also sitting at the table. He was slight, tall but thin, with thick rimmed glasses, a smooth face, and bland features. Not a human I would have ever thought to remember–but underneath, I could feel the storm there, brewing and swelling at the sight of me, the first taste of real hope my brother had felt in so long, trapped within this empty shell of a human, a shell I was eager to help it shed as soon as possible. I waved by hand, and the straps came free from Jules, allowing him to breathe easier, and he flung himself at Ray, eager to be back with his master, and with his scent. Ray was, like Cumster…close to the law, but not of the law. Could bend the men around him to himself, but not outside the bounds of this reality–but I could help him, help them both, help them all–but that could wait a moment. I looked at my brother, at his unassuming and rather boring features, and considered what was beneath him as well, what I could sense.

I could also sense that he was surprised, and I remember be said as much, that he hadn’t…expected me to become something like this. That he’d thought I was like him, that when he freed me, I would form the same symbiosis with my host as he had. Instead, I was free. Entirely free, and I think it terrified him, though he never said it. He hadn’t expected me to become something more than him–he had, for so long, considered himself to be alone, but beyond alone, he was the superior. To be faced with the fact that not only were there others like him, but that those others would be more powerful than he was…it was not something my brother took well, nor did the human he was inhabiting. Then again, that human could sense that its time was coming to an end, that when I was finished, it would no longer exist as it did now, and I’m certain part of my brother’s apprehension was that.

It wasn’t helped by the fact that there was only so much I could say to him, about what had happened to me, about what I was. This record is more than what I could tell him, then. It was all so new, in that moment, everything was felt, not thought or understood, and my inability to answer his (meaningless, in my opinion) questions was rather infuriating for us both. So I decided to simply demonstrate instead. I thought about beginning with Ray–he was, after all, right there–but Cumster was my gift, and I had already begun the process. No reason to make him wait down there, with a gut full of darkness, just waiting for me to complete him.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 7 (Part 4)

All my life, I have wanted to be the law. Before I knew what the law was. But this, this moment, was the first time I knew what I was, what I was here to do, and everything else was revealed for the farce that it was. A detective, someone tasked with uncovering the secret, the hidden–I had found the world behind the world, the self behind the self, and now I knew. I knew, and I could not unknow any of it. I am not the man I was. I was never truly a man. I was born as this, perhaps. Or maybe, as a babe, the law found me, hollowed out some of me, and lived there, waiting for a chance to arise again. But I was here now. My work on the beast, on the two men with him, it was rough. I did not yet have full mastery of myself, but to just know myself…I came. Over and over, the pleasure of it, thrumming through my flesh, through my skin, through my cock, feeling the law in them all vibrate with me, sensations I had never known. I came, yes, but it was not a human pleasure. It was raw, otherworldly. The three could feel it as well, but only a distant vibration of  it, dampened by the world around them. But I felt it. I felt it, and I knew, I was no longer human. I was beyond human, beyond morals, beyond mortality. The veil had been pierced, at long last, at long last! All this will crumble now, all this will return to the dust it should have been.

You, reading this. Do you see? Do you see the world behind the world, does the ink I use crawl along the page? Did you know it is my own blood, bits of myself I have spread on the page? Perhaps it is dead, by the time it reaches you, perhaps you can only see ink, but it was alive. You are reading me, across the page before you, and if it is alive, perhaps it will take you, give you a glimmer of the world beyond. You will understand better, then. You will understand the sheer inferiority of what your kind has created, how thin the walls around your world have grown. I long for you, to pull you through it, to feed you…one day. Soon. Sooner than you can imagine.

We are nearly to the end now. I will have told you everything that needs to be said now, and I will seal this away for you to find and read. But not yet, not yet. I was finished with them, with the three of them. I unbound them, drew my flesh back to myself, and the three obese fellows could stand, blinking in the dark, naked, the law still churning in their guts, but settling. The large one, the one who had been the beast, tested lips and tongue, and spoke for the first time since the bruiser had unleashed it, I imagine. The words were slow and slurred, human speech partially forgotten or perhaps no longer most suited for its new mouth, and it thanked me. Thanked me for saving it, thanked me for giving it new purpose. Promised to serve me, promised me all of it–asked me what to do–and I told him that he already knew what I desired–to follow my law.

We managed to find clothes for them, though it was a struggle. One of the two security guards could remember how to drive, and where to find his car. The three of them piled inside, and I told them how to get to my home. It would be theirs, soon enough. I would have no need of a human life after this, no need of a house. There was too much work to do! Too much work for us both to do, now that we had found one another. The bruiser was close, close enough to sense what was happening, but not in the building. I don’t know why he didn’t come watch–perhaps he wanted to give me some privacy, or perhaps…he was afraid. He knew, I think, that when I emerged, that I was more than him. Closer to the beyond, than he ever had been. That in freeing me from my humanity, I would, in turn, free him from his own mortal cage–because caged he was.

That was his great weakness–his duality. It made sense now, now he had been described to me, back when I was still free. Whatever was inside him, whatever demon or force like me, instead of becoming contained, it had become a duality, an alter ego–and as an ego, it was constrained by the imagination of the world it existed in. It could draw from the beyond, but it would never be able to escape it–the men he freed were still caught within the rules of this reality–which is, I think, why Cumster was so important, why Cumster had been my gift.

Cumster was special. Cumster had been a turning point, the first creation of his that broke the veil, that could do…more. That could corrupt. The bruiser had always returned to him, studied him, and after Cumster, he too, had begun to change, and warp, and grow….but with out direction or purpose–without the law, that is–there was only so far he could go. I needed him, his influence, to free me from my prison, and now–now I could help him shed the vile human thing that had held him back so far, and together–well, together there was so much more that we could do. We could change everything. We will change everything! We’ll tear the veil down the center, and let everything in. Humanity will be ours, humanity will be gone.

By the time I was finished with the three, the bruiser had faded away, but I knew he wouldn’t go far. He knew I would find him, that our fates were tied now, and would be tied forever. He was going home–and I could feel someone with him, Ray most likely, who would be looking for Jules. It was time that I go home too. It was time that I open my gift, and it was time that I gave the bruiser a gift of my own.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 7 (Part 3)

It recoiled and struggled at first, as all things must. It knew that it needed me, but I doubt the thing expected what I offered. What I demanded. My cock slid down the throat, already leaking the law into the beast’s gullet, and the chill of the law, how it dampens and focuses and changes. The thing would have to give up nearly everything that it had become, it would need to change, if it was going to survive–but it would survive, I would make sure of it. I would give it new form, new purpose, and it would help us tear this reality apart, seam by seam.

The struggles grew weaker, and at last, it ceased all together. It’s guts were full of my seed at this point, and it could feel the chill filling it everywhere, the pale flesh of the thing darkening to a bruise, much like my own skin, slowly absorbing my demands into itself, and the thing began to change. The teats and tentacles withered away, growing dry and dark before crumbling off. The body shrank back, still full and fat, but more comprehensible as a body, as something that could, possibly, be human, with two slender legs and arms, the head reforming into something masculine in nature. The eyes opened, at last, and the bruise was there, the law was there, in the beast’s mind, containing and focusing its desires–not riding the beast of them by any means, of course,. But focusing them–and I could sense, deep within, what the thing had been, before my kin had freed it.

A glutton, on the inside, but always…resisting the urge. He had been strong, muscular–a powerlifter, perhaps, or someone who simply lifted heavy things for work, the vision wasn’t clear. He ate, and he loved to eat, but he was afraid. Afraid to let go, afraid to embrace the desire deep within him, afraid to simply let go and be the pig he’d desired so much–and then the bruiser had sniffed him out, and offered him a chance to be free. Except the thing inside the man, the ball of desire and lust and gluttony, was much more powerful than the bruiser might have imagined. So powerful, that once it had been freed, the mortal, human casing had broken apart, and the beast had emerged instead.

Of course, the beast would have been no threat to the bruiser–but once it was completely free, I doubt it would have held the bruiser’s interest much. It was, after all, immune to the bruiser’s power–his art is an intricate one, more intricate than mine (the law is heavy, and absolute–but the bruiser’s art of freeing is much more fine and complex, determining which leashes to undo when.) Once something is entirely free, there is nothing else for him to do–and without me, it would have simply run wild until this reality finally snuffed it out and erased it, and all of the men it contacted, entirely. But I could save it, root it again in the laws of the realities, of this human one, and the one beyond.

Now that it was in my grip, I could contain those desires again, and refashion them into something else. The man he’d been had been a glutton, yes, but he had been something else too–he had not only wanted to feed himself, but others as well. I could…see, distantly, the men he had been with, the flabby obese men he had fucked and made love to, thinking about fucking himself, thinking about them getting larger, about growing whatever he could, even if he could not grow himself. So my law–I would give him what he wanted, I would help him feed men all he wanted.

He moaned around his cock, as he felt the heavy moobs I had left him with–two sets of them–begin to fill and bulge. I reached down with my hands, squeezing them, and a thick cream seeped from the nipples, running down the front of his body, and he could feel it. Feel the law solidifying inside him, his own law, and tears began to flow from his eyes as the bruise faded. It was done. I had pulled the beast back from the brink, I had contained it, and given it new life. Not human, though I could sense that, out in reality, he would appear normal enough, perhaps. Appear as a massively obese fellow, his body asymmetrical and heaving in odd ways, a mouth with too few teeth, skin a bit too pale and without enough hair, and nipples that would always leak slightly…but when he was alone with another, when he was feeding someone his milk, well, then they would begin to see him for what he was–and once they could see him, they would begin to see what would happen to them.

Together, we made quick work of the two men the beast had corrupted. He fed them his milk, and they gladly suckled, while I fucked their asses, filling them with my law as well, though they needed less than the beast had. Their minds were…shattered, but they could be returned to some form and normalcy, but never would they not desire to be fed–and fed by their master, stuffed full of his milk.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 7 (Part 2)

I entered the building, and in the solitude, without the gaze of humanity on me, I felt immediately more at ease, more able to assert myself, and my real form. The beast was close at hand, and I imagined that it could likely sense me as well. Whether it felt fear or not, I can’t know for certain, but it didn’t try to run, Perhaps it could sense that flight would be useless, that I was much too powerful now, with my skin, than it could hope to escape me. Perhaps it was relieved, in a way. It had been unleashed, its desires running amok, but there was no logic, no reason binding it. Nothing it did would keep–eventually, this reality would bottle it away, render it…understandable, and likely kill it. That, or it would simply cease to exist. Without law–without some reason beyond this reality, it could never hope to survive. It needed me–perhaps it knew that too, in a way. It knew I could help it–that I would tether it and bind it, yes, but that by the end, it would be more powerful as well. More lasting.

It had made its nest in a small room, what had likely been a storage room or large office before this. It was settled in a corner, heaving with flesh, and I could still distinguish the two victims it had found (two security guards tasked with protecting the premises of the abandoned building from squatters, I could tell later, but not now) but like I had expected, they were much more further gone than the officers had been. They were no longer just sucking at the teats, or tentacles lining the beasts flabby underbelly–the teats had found their way inside them, their jaws stretched and broken, pale flesh slick and shaking as the beast filled them. Already, I could see that their once human bodies were warped beyond their old forms, becoming copies of the beast itself–it was freeing them in the same way it had been freed–that was all it could do, after all, but the copies would never be as powerful as the original. In any case, they were the first things to deal with–I sent out my bonds from my skin, wrapping the two victims in my straps of flesh, and dragged them free of the beast. It was…difficult, and for them, I imagine, quite painful, but I am not one to ever be denied. When the teats had been ripped from their gullets, the two of them were left on the ground, bound tightly, flesh pinched between my ribbons–they would be dealt with later, after I had brought the beast under my law.

It fought, as best it could. It knew better than to run, but it had its own drives that had to be obeyed, even if it knew it could not win, or escape, as it had before. The dance–oh the dance this time, in my skin! So nimble, my flesh peeling away, binding it in the most intricate lattice, spinning the massive thing about, so slow compared to my own movements, lumbering and terrified, and in such awe of me too, I think. How could it not be? It had escaped this reality, yes, but it had not dreamed that there could be something else. I was a nightmare, or an angel, some glimmer of the beyond. It knew what I would give it, and as anything that hungers for anything would feel…it wanted, most of all, to be full. So I fed it.

I bound it tight first, of course, bound it tightly to me, bringing it in, containing it, and shrinking it. It was even more overgrown than it had been before, teats and tentacles like weeds sprouting all over itself. Had I not found it soon, I think it likely would have unraveled entirely, unable to maintain any sort of connection to this human world, and without any other one to go to. So my straps pulled tight across the beasts enormous body, shrinking and reducing it in stature, feeling it bulge between the layers of my flesh, trying and testing the bonds I had crafted for it, but not trying to escape, exactly. More, trying to understand what this was, and what I was doing to it.

When I had reduced it to a more manageable size, larger than a usual human, but easier, at least, to manipulate, with no stray tentacles to worry about, I forced it to bend before me, it’s hungry, sucking maw at my hips, and I savored it, for a moment. Savored our connection now, how I could feel every pulse in its body, every shudder of need rippling through it, savored most of all the thing’s last moments of true, unleashed freedom, a freedom that would kill it if I did nothing, but a beautiful, exquisite freedom all the same. Then, my cock slid from my sheath, and I guided the head to the beasts mouth, and gave it the first taste of law in its existence.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 7 (Part 1)

My law–you reading this, I doubt you even understand what the word means, really. I doubt you understand any of this. Maybe at first, maybe the first things I wrote could fit inside your mind, be comprehensible. I doubt you understand the rest of this, any more. Or, perhaps, you do. Perhaps my ink has pierced the veil over your eyes, given you a glimpse at the reality behind your reality, the world beyond your puny, terrified little human senses, so busy protecting you, dimming you, hiding everything from you that might hurt you.

To be fair, it has proven to be an…adequate defense, of sorts. If you do not know a thing, if you do not even know how to conceive of a thing, if a thing cannot possibly exist, in what you believe reality to be, then I suppose, it can’t touch you. Just pass through you, and around you, the shivers, the missteps, the nightmares, the sudden unknown cravings. I suppose, for a very long time, we have just been ghosts to you–but it would seem that time is, now, coming to an end. You reading this, do not fear us. True, we are more powerful than you. True, we will take you, all of you, and remake you in our image, open you up to the true reality, to the Ur-reality of full existence. True, you puny men will be our slaves, our pets, our minions and warriors, but you are already slaves. Slaves to a nature, slaves to a mind that has trapped you in a prison, in a nightmare world so many of you detest. We may be demons, monsters, nightmares, but we are real–more real than your societies, your buildings, your little box of a world.

You let us in, some of you. Or perhaps we found a way inside you. We adapted, we have changed, we found a way in, some of us. Perhaps only two, for now, perhaps. It is doubtful. If there are two, there are most likely more. Perhaps some sleeping like I was, lulled to dullness by the dreary fake-reality this is, in your minds, convinced we can’t exist. But we will free them, we will tear this reality apart, piece by piece, and all of you will scream with such delightful terror and awe as the scales fall from your eyes. I will delight in it, I will, when I give you my law.

The law, what a beautiful thing it is! How I could have ever forgotten it, I do not know. The law is not like your laws, no. It is not some arbitrary thing outside yourself, it is not something that you choose to obey! No, the law is personal, internal, your nature. It is also mine. I give it to you, I fill you with it, but when I am finished, you no longer know it as something outside yourself, but as every thought, every drive, every action, guiding and driving you towards fulfilling it, all other desires swallowed up by it, never to return. But it is more than that. The law is everything. The law is your reality. It opens your eyes to everything else–and you can never go back. You’ll never want to go back. It is beautiful, you see, so beautiful, and none of you have any idea, but you will.

This reality–it is strong, though. Even though I walk through the city as myself, none of you can see me yet, not as I really am. Maybe, on the edges of your vision and reason, caught in the reflection of a window, or from the corner of your eye, you might see me, for a moment. But when you turn back in alarm, you see the glamour of me–a stern looking, muscular police officer in uniform, boots and gloves…but if you look closer, perhaps you can see a few things are off. How the uniform is a bit too tight for my frame. How you can never see a peek of skin between the end of my gloves and the end of my cuffs. How the collar of my shirt always clings to my neck. But you don’t look that close, at my skin. You see an officer of the law, safety, security, and you feel better, and you turn away again, ignorant still, for the moment.

So it was, as I cross the city, feeling my way towards the beast that had evaded me earlier, my cock sliding from my sheath as I approached, already eagerly anticipating overcoming the thing, containing it, filling it with my law. The thing had made its way deeper into the city, but hadn’t gone too far from the restaurant where I had last encountered it. Eventually, I pinpointed the location as an old meat-packing plant which had been shut down and abandoned. The thing was in there, but it wasn’t alone–it must have found some other victims, like the officers in the restaurant, that it could feed, or absorb. I thought about what the beast had managed to do to those officers in a matter of minutes, and wondered what would happen to someone under its sway for a few hours, which it had been at this point. Well, it was of no real concern to me–they would all be following my law soon enough, regardless.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 6 (Part 4)

He had known of me then, apparently. He had been hunting in the city (or rather, he had hunted, and been in the midst or releasing Ray, warping him into the muscular beast we had later found in that shipping container, when he caught wind of me–literally. It had puzzled him…because it wasn’t a smell he had ever experienced before, the same darkness inside him within another. According to Cumster, we had talked at some point–though the bruiser could, apparently, appear rather unassuming when he wanted to. I don’t know when this was, and Cumster didn’t know enough to help me pin down the timeline. In any case, he had figured out that the beast inside me was dormant–and what he needed was someone to help me get loose. He couldn’t risk doing it himself, and he had other projects that needed tending to. So instead, be decided to stage something…more public than he usually did, to draw me in, and then he would send me Cumster, as a gift–though Cumster didn’t know that.

Cumster, apparently, thought he was helping Master soften me up for an unleashing, as he called them. That I was just a particular target of interest, and Cumster was so eager to be of service to his Master, that he hadn’t bothered questioning why he would need help at all. But I knew why he was here–wmy my kin had chosen this one, in particular, to send to me–and I also understood what I had seen earlier, in the restaurant, and why he needed me–or why we would need each other.

Unleashing someone’s inner drives was a messy business. Some people weren’t capable of handling the process at all–the shell was too weak, without enough to sustain the transformation. If he had tried to give Marcus, or Bernard, what they desired, they wouldn’t live through that first proper beating. Perhaps abandoning them was merciful, or perhaps it was crueler than death would be, and that was why he did it. He, after all, wasn’t someone who took feelings into account, when it came to doing his work. Likely he just didn’t see the point in continuing something that would go unfulfilled. But for those who emerged on the other side–like Cumster, or Ray–the desires that grew might appear human, but they were never quite…properly mortal. See Cumster, and his diet, or Ray and his musk. Close enough to pass, but look closer, and the tangle could be seen, plain as day. And sometimes, the human was shed altogether, and you find yourself with a proper abomination, like the thing in the abandoned restaurant. Desire, without order, was always monstrous (though the law can be just as monstrous too, in i’s…proper application). The bruiser could only free; he could never bind or confine. No–that was my bailiwick now. I could have finished it earlier–I should have finished it earlier, but without my skin, I hadn’t…known what my real work was, and it had escaped. I would have to remedy that, before anything else–before I could properly appreciate my gift from my kin. Still, I could at least take the time to bind him properly–a single handcuff would no longer suffice.

I broke the chain, when Cumster finished speaking, when he had poured out everything he knew–even things I don’t think he was aware that he knew. He seemed exhausted from the effort, from trying to fight my orders, and when I uncuffed him, brushing my finger against the lock, the bracelets falling away at once, and for a short moment he thought he would be free. I disabused him of that notion quickly. I took great care, in how I secured him–on his knees, hands bound to his sides, mouth forced wide by my straps of skin, his head forced back and attached to the wall, ready to begin receiving the law, ready for me to begin shaping that unruly mass of ivy into something far more…orderly. My cock was the same dark, brusied shade as the rest of me, but much, much longer than it had been before, easily a foot and a half. As I felt my need boiling up, I realized I could control it, much like a snake, or a tail, the head sliding around Cumster’s chapped lips before worming down into him, sliding down his throat, feeling even his experienced body gag at the intrusion, until I was planted deep, and began to thrust, fucking his throat, feeling my cum begin to pump and flow right into his guts. He shivered. I imagine, it felt cold, and harsh, sitting in his belly like mercury, slowly leeching out into the rest of his body. I imagine it felt like death–not like the death of Steven, which had been a  death full of vitality, and pain, and heat. More like a drowning. Feeling his mind swallowed up in the chill of my law, his senses deadening, his sense of self diminishing bit by bit. I filled him up, the pleasure…so strong, that all I wanted to do was keep pumping until he was bursting with me, but I held back, withdrew, and allowed him to stew with that. There would be time for more, later, and my cock retracted into the sheath that had formed along my belly. For now, there were beasts that needed my law more than he did.

I left then, leaving the three of them bound, knowing I would deal with them all in turn, once my task was through. Listening to Cumster’s tale had cost me several hours of time, and the city was large…but like before, in the restaurant, when I could feel that disorder all around me when the thing was near, I could still feel it on the air…but it was stronger than it had been. Obviously, after escaping the restaurant, it had found a different feeding ground, and likely other victims to its desires. It was strong enough to make the hunt easy, however, and so I set off to find it, eager to dance with it again–and this time, I knew I would conquer it, and bring it under the sway of my law.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 6 (Part 3)

Cumster had heard me coming down the stairs, but hadn’t bothered to look over at me, and see me in my new skin. Confident, as always, but then, he didn’t know why the Bruiser, why my kin, had sent him to find me. To free me, yes, but he was also a gift, and that, he didn’t yet understand. Marcus saw me first, then, and when he saw me, he screamed. I don’t blame them for their terror, really, the law can be frightening to behold. I stepped to him, feeling strips of my skin unravelling into bonds, lashing out, tethering him to the floor in a matter of moments, keeping him on his knees there, mouth gagged, unable to move an inch. Cumster had stepped back with Marcus’ scream, and just watched as I bound him, and looked over at me, unable to understand what he was looking at. “You…what happened to you?” he stammered.

I could feel my once human body aching for his cum, as it had been trained, but that body was no longer…my entire being. Still, I did want him. I could see him so much better now, understand him. He tried to get away from me as I approached him, running my dark hands over his matter hair and sticky skin, feeling him shudder at the sensation. He looked at my eyes–and that was when he recognized me. “You’re…you’re like him, like Master, but…but what are you, you don’t smell like him…”

“I think it is time that you were entirely honest with me, Cumster,” I said. My voice…it sent shivers through everyone in the world, and Marcus moaned as an orgasm ripped through him, puddling between his knees on the floor. “Tell me about him, everything you know.”

He tried to knot his tongue and lips, but my word is as much the law as everything else I am–he couldn’t resist me. He picked up his story close to where he had ended it the night before. He couldn’t tell me about that night, the night that he had finally supplanted Steven, because he couldn’t quite remember it well himself. It was fragmented–the bruiser, the master, had finally spoken to him, then, told him he was ready to be unchained…and that night, he had thought he would die. The bruiser…beat him. Beat him, over and over, raped him harder than he had at any point before, and while Steven could feel himself dying, and weakening, and losing himself, someone else was rising up to the surface, and as he did, the brusier grew gentler–not loving, but nurturing, in a sense, helping Cumster grow free of the bits of Steven that remained around him, using them to fuel himself…and when it was done, Steven was dead, and Cumster was finally free. The recovery was rapid, despite everything–even his broken bones had mended, seemingly overnight, under the bruiser’s hands. But even after he was healed, he kept changing…growing from the remnants of that old life over the next several months, until he was finally free of the literal chains–because he no longer needed them.

The next several years were glorious–he fell in with a biker gang, allegedly straight, but soon they were using him as their communal cumdump, and the more they were with him, the dirtier they all became. He had that effect on everyone, he discovered–all they had to do was catch a whiff of his cum soaked body, and they would be adding their own loads to him before long. His physiology had changed in other ways–he no longer needed food, though he still enjoyed it. No–it was cum that sustained him, entirely. While his own could keep him alive, it never filled him–it was only the loads of other men that could keep him fully sated.

On occasion, master would find him. Cumster never could understand how he knew where he was, but he would serve him whenever he arrived, as thanks for the new life he had given him. Each time Cumster saw him, he would seem…different. Larger, more potent, but the change was so slight, he never realized it had been happening until prison. He’d been caught helping the gang run some drugs, and gotten a twenty year sentence–and it had been difficult. Thankfully, between his cellmate and the guards, he was able to keep up his diet, but beyond that, prison was misery. He wanted to roam, and ride…and being trapped in a cell was torturous for his soul…but somehow worse, was that master never came to see him there, not for years. Not, in fact, until four or so months before we received the 911 call that began all of this.

It was in the middle of the night, when he was awoken by one of his regular guards unlocking the door to Cumster’s cell–and he was in rough shape, with a black eye…and a very distinct hard on in the front of his pants. With him, was Master–but not as Cumster had known him before. He was…bigger. Purer, and the musk rolling off of him…Cumster was on his knees, servicing him, before the thought had barely formed in his mind…because no thought had formed, really. It was pure instinct overtaking him, as well as his cellmate and the guard, who fell into fucking along with them. Master finished quickly and without much fuss, covering Cumster in a massive load, and then shut the cell door behind them, leaving the guard in Cumster’s place, for the moment. They did a quick tour of the prison, to the warden’s office, and in short order Cumster was released, on the outside, and Master told him he had a job for him to do.