New You Resolutions (Part 11)

Hugh stood on the stage, looking out at the audience of men below him, and tried to make out what they were saying–but he couldn’t tell anything about what they were thinking. Should he beg? Ask them to change him back? Would they take mercy on him, or would they just be even more likely to make his transformations just that much more extreme?

He didn’t have a chance to decide, in the end. There was a chime, and the first choice from the audience appeared on the screen–that Hugh would now have a history of taking steroids, growth hormones, and various other cocktails to make himself as muscular and masculine as possible. Then, he started begging, begging them not to do this to him, falling on his knees, but before he could get much out, he collapsed further, feeling the new drugs flooding his body shifting and changing him in ways he couldn’t predict.

He was growing, that much was certain. His muscles were thickening under his skin so fast, that he started showing stretch marks all over–even on his arms over his biceps, on his thighs, on the side of his gut, which now had the distinct, firm roundness of a roidgut. HIs face broke out in acne–but that was soon covered over by the hair that was filling in across his chest, back and face. The hair on his head receded, however, pulling back into just a horseshoe fringe–a side effect of the testosterone he was taking–and he also felt his chest swell yet again, his pecs ballooning to an almost comical size, his nipples swelling and growing more sensitive–that had to be the growth hormones.

He was horrified, but felt…unstable. He was so angry all of a sudden, full of energy, but he had nowhere to put it. He didn’t notice the next announcement above him, that in addition to these changes, he was going to lose some of his cognitive ability, and actually devolve somewhat–becoming hairier more apelike in appearance. The hair covering his muscular body thickened even more, making it difficult to even make out the skin beneath it from a distance. The hair on his face thickened as well, his beard creeping up his cheeks, though nothing grew back on the top of his head, even as his brow thickened, his eyebrows joining into one single brow.

HIs bones were aching as well, his legs shortening slightly as his arms grew longer–not quite enough that he actually walked like an ape, but enough to make him seem out of proportion–and the muscles of his shoulders, neck and arms exploded in size again, only making him seem more imposing, even hunched over as he was.

In his mind, Hugh felt like everything was closing in on him somehow. His emotions were running wild, and his rational mind was crippled–mostly, he was terrified. Terrified of the men laughing and jeering at him, terrified of the bright lights of the stage. All of this was too much–and he made a break for the side stage, only to be rebuffed, a collar fitted around his neck, and he was shoved back out.

He wasn’t alone now though, there was someone out there waiting for him, a chubby, grungy looking fellow leering at him like he was looking at a pet. Someone had purchased him–but as far as Hugh was concerned, he had no intention of leaving this place in a cage. Still, before he could do anything, the man hit a button, the shock collar activated, and sent Hugh to his knees, screaming in surprise and pain.

The rest of the men watched as the fat slob coerced the monkey man onto all fours and fucked him, Hugh terrified of the shock now, and how powerful it was. The man told him that he was going to be the newest member of Hugh’s family–that he’d seen what a cute little pig his son had become, and he’d just needed to have them both. Of course, Hugh wouldn’t be able to work looking like this, but that was alright. His new Master had plenty of money for them to live on, and Hugh would be able to focus on being their personal sex pet from now on.

When Hugh woke the next morning, back home but now in his new steel cage, he was furious. Furious at…well, at he didn’t know what, but he was angry. His son entered, naked with his new uncle, and gave Hugh a shock to quiet him down, and then the two fat slobs shared a kiss. They would play with their pet later–but for now, his new uncle wanted to see what his new nephew was capable of.

And meanwhile, a new set of men were receiving new letters from New You Enterprises, offering them a chance to change their lives–maybe not always for the better in their mind, but they were always changed–that much was certain.

THE END — A new interactive (of some sort) will start next week!

Spook Mart (Part 7) [Interactive]

Jules…was feeling odd. He’d been feeling odd for a while now–he thought about just saying he was drunk, but this wasn’t quite the same thing as being just, drunk. No–he didn’t feel drunk, not exactly. He felt dumb, and…and aggressive, and horny, and not at all like himself at the moment, not at all. There was something wrong with him, something he couldn’t quite pin down, and there was also something wrong with the beer he’d been drinking all night, but Jules didn’t know that.

The Cave Aged IPA had sounded interesting, and certainly packed a punch, but now that the bottle was finished and he was trying to figure out why he felt so strange…and he wondered if he needed to puke. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done so–hell, the frat had found him passed out a few times in there as a freshman, so this wouldn’t be a first at all, but usually he had better control of himself, but as soon as he got in there, he realized that control was something he didn’t have much of at all, as his cock released a blast of piss, wetting the front of his costume, running down his legs, and pooling at his feet.

He snorted up the smell, and it triggered something in his mind, and he grunted. It smelled…not good, but right. He…He was marking his territory, it was good that things smelled like him. He turned to look at the mirror, squinting at his face, trying to recall it. His brow…shouldn’t be that heavy, should it? Or his mouth that wide? There was definitely too much hair, and he gave the side of his head a scratch, trying to focus. Something…was wrong. He was wrong. Clothes…why was he wearing these clothes? They were so tight, and so constricting. He pawed at them, trying to figure out the snaps and buttons and zippers, but all they did was frustrate them, and so, with few grunts he just started tearing them off, at least, the ones he wasn’t growing out of. His shoes burst before he could figure out the laces, and he wiggled his massive toes and huge feet, heavily calloused and smelling…wonderful, snorting in his own scent that was filling the small bathroom, and his…cock was so hard, all of a sudden, but that wasn’t what mattered. What mattered, in his fading mind, was that something was wrong, that he needed help from someone.

He stumbled out of the bathroom, crouching now, and went to the next room where he head people talking, but when he opened it…what he found weren’t people at all, not really. Two pig men, frat bros as well, whose costumes and room had been laced with pork powder were rutting on the bed, their fat frames jiggling, oinking and squealing, and seeing them fuck was making Jules hard–and as he got hard, the worry and concern left with them, and he…he wanted to fuck too.

The two pigs were more than happy to let the caveman join in, though Jules was more interested in dominating than just fucking. The two pigmen didn’t mind in the least–they wanted nothing more to have their holes filled, preferably with food, but cock would do in a pinch. But as Jules fucked them, the powder on the two pigs, and on their bed and clothes, began to rub off on him as well–and a curious reaction took hold of him, as he changed again.

His skin became a rough hide. Two tusks erupted from his mouth as the rest of his teeth flattened slightly. His cock warped, but not as much as the two pigs’ cocks had. It no longer looked human though, and it was massive, easily a foot long, with a thick foreskin covering a tapered cock head. His fingers fused into three thick trotter like fingers, and the toes of his massive feet turned into hard trotters as well. With every thrust into the pigs’ holes, the more his human mind retreated, until he was nothing more than an animal–and after a few hours, the pigmen lost all sense of their human selves as well, happy to keep rutting with their filthy, massive caveman master. Shortly before dawn, the three of them left the house, two massive boars and their hulking pigman master, all of them eager to add a few more pigs, boars and hogs to their stable.

Part 3 – Halloween Alone

It had always been his favorite holiday, Halloween. Dressing up in costumes as a kid, the parties in college…but while it still had a certain charm, Ferris was a bit too old for any of that now, especially now that his kids were grown up and out of the house, and especially since Ellie had passed on a few years before. He still decorated the house of course, though not as much as some people did, but usually it was a quiet night in, passing out candy, reading by the fire. Still, he hadn’t seen this store before, and it piqued his curiosity–Spook Mart. It wasn’t the largest store, or the most high end, but it had a surprising amount of charm–and quite a few brands of products he’d never seen before. It was also the first Halloween store he’d been in that had a section of books to sell!

Some of them were obvious–pumpkin carving, house decorating, horror stories–but some of the others were much more fantastic, and hard to believe even existed. They all had to be joke books, there was no other real explanation, and yet…he was still delightfully intrigued, but when he tried to open one up to read it, the shopkeeper appeared behind him and smacked his hand, telling him reading was only allowed after he’d bought it. The old fellow had gusto, Ferris had to give him that. So he picked the one he found the most interesting, bought it, took and home and started to read.

Come Halloween night, however, Ferris’ home was dark, and there was no candy to be found. Ferris had…learned something. Something vital, and was occupied with something quite a bit more important. Something that was going to change his life forever.

This is the third story arc in the Spook Mart series, and probably the last of them. What sort of book did Ferris buy, and decide to try out before Halloween?

  1. Demon Summoning for Dummies
  2. Working With Portals: Your Ticket to the Outer Planes
  3. Lucid Dreams: Control Your Mind, and Control Your Sleep!
  4. The Magic of Time: Alternate Pasts, Alternate Futures

Here’s the Public Poll

Here’s the Patron Only Poll

Votes will be counted on Sunday!

The Power of Society (Part 7)

“Come on Brodie–just come lift with us! Classes aren’t for fucking jocks,” his two frat brothers guffawed and laughed–that was about as close anyone in the house got to a joke these days. After all, Jocks weren’t really known for their subtlety. Well, except for Brodie, and a few others. Against the orders of the study, Brodie still showered himself down at nights, when no one else was awake, and that helped him keep his mind clear enough that he could still go to a couple of classes on campus, even if he was nearly failing both of them. The professors were patronizing–they knew he didn’t really belong there as much as Brodie did, but they also found his attempt charming, and tolerated it. Brodie ignored his bros, and left the frat house, heading for campus–it wasn’t until after a few blocks that he felt warmth in the pouch of his constantly wet uniform, and realized he was pissing himself in the middle of the sidewalk–but the piss streaming out wasn’t what unnerved him–it was that he had completely forgotten to put anything else on over his uniform.

He was standing on the sidewalk in broad daylight, wearing nothing but his yellow and brown, cum and piss stained uniform, cock bulging in the pouch, his muscular, dirty, hairy ass hanging out for everyone to see…but that was normal, wasn’t it? He entertained the thought of heading back to campus and putting on some other clothes–or at least a pair of shoes–but that was ridiculous–the house didn’t have any other clothes. Jocks didn’t get to wear clothes–what did he think he was…a normal person? He felt frozen there, on the sidewalk, not really certain how to take what was happening. He’d worn clothes yesterday, hadn’t he? When he’d gone to class? Or had he? It was hard to focus, with the stench of his piss wafting up from the pavement, and he kept walking before he gave in and started lapping at the puddle. It would be delicious, of course, but if he got distracted he’d never make it to class on time.

He kept going, crossing the road onto campus proper and headed for his campus building. He saw, up ahead, a crowd gathering around a bench–some Nerd was making a scene on the bench. He took a different path, wanting to avoid it. Nerds could be…distracting, for a Jock like him, and that one looked…especially dirty.

“What the fuck is up with that Jock?” he heard someone say, as he walked, “They don’t usually walk like that do they?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of weird–almost looks like a human or something, when it does that.”

God, what was he doing, Brodie asked himself. He knew better than that. He hunched forward and crouched down a bit, so his hands were on the ground and kept walking. He was aware that this position should be…very uncomfortable, if not impossible…but something odd had happened to his body. It was like his legs were shorter–squat and thick–and his arms had lengthened. He seemed almost simian, as he walked, and the copious amount of hair coating his body didn’t help. Still, he felt less naked, with his pelt on. He always felt sorry for swimmers, and the shaving and waxing they had to put up with. So much easier just being a dumb football jock like he was.

He was almost to the building where the class was being taught, when something flying through the air caught his eye. He dropped his books to the ground in a heap and launched after it, tongue hanging out of his mouth, every concern in him pushed aside. A thing was in the air! A ball? No–no, a frisbee! Brodie fucking loved frisbee! He launched himself into the air–a sense of vertigo washing over him when he saw how…high his squat legs could propel him–and intercepted the disk in the air, grabbing it with a sound something between a howl and cheer, and landed on the ground with a roll. Some focus returned to him, and looking around, he realized he’d interrupted a game of catch being played by three normal guys on the quad, and he felt a bit embarrassed.

“God, fucking Jocks,” one of them said.

“Hey, be nice! It’s not like they can help it.”

He loped over, holding the frisbee in his mouth, and handed it to one of the men, who tousled his hair like a kid, or a dog…and Brodie felt a surge of pride.

“Throw!” he said, his voice gutteral, almost a growl. “Throw again! Brodie catch! Brodie good catcher. Brodie play football.”

The guy rolled his eyes, “Hey guys, the jock wants to play.”

“Of course he fucking does.”

“Throw!” Brodie said, jumping up and down, an odd glee and exuberance filling his chest. “Throw for Brodie!”

“He’s not going to stop, is he?”

“How about keep away?” one of them suggested, and the other’s agreed. So the three of them began throwing the frisbee between them with Brodie in the middle, chasing after the disk like a pup, intercepting it often…and sometimes letting it go, because he liked seeing the people happy. Jocks, after all, wanted to make men happy, right?”

They stopped after an hour. Brodie hadn’t thought about his class once, and to thank the men for letting him play with them, he blew them all in sequence, and drank down their piss on the quad. No one really batted an eye at that–after all, Jocks could be a bit…forceful if the didn’t get their way. In the end, Brodie heard the four o’clock chime ring from the bell tower, said a hasty goodbye, and took off in the direction of the fieldhouse. Practice started at four fifteen, after all, and Brodie didn’t want to be late. Brodie wanted to play football! Maybe tomorrow, those guys would be playing frisbee again. He liked frisbee too, and their cum had been delicious as well. Maybe, if he was extra good tomorrow, they’d fuck his dirty ass too.


The End for now…

It was happening again, only this time he felt his cock snake out another two inches, as his balls nearly doubled in size. The changes were more and more frequent now, and more and more extreme. Nathan excused himself from the business meeting, desperately trying to hide his obscene bulge, and hurried to the restroom.

There he unzipped his trousers and let his cock and balls out, grunting and jacking off, unable to help himself. He’d expected that spell he’d had cast for him to be a one off, not a fucking chronic condition! Another tingle was building, his cock pushing out past a foot long, his balls once again doubling, and a heat flushed through his body, a massive load of testosterone and hormones in quantities his body had never seen.

The hair was the most immediate change, a five o’ clock shadow developing over his face, his hair receding back into advanced baldness, the hair spreading all over his body and back, growing into a thick pelt. He was so focused on jacking off now he didn’t notice his clothes start ripping apart, his muscles quickly growing over developed, his bones aching as they entered another growth spurt. Finally he came in a massive torrent, nearly filling the sink in front of him to the brim with sperm, and he felt some of his mind return to him.

It was so hard for him to think about anything other than sex now–it was like he was going through puberty all over again, only a hundred times worse, and he didn’t think this was going to fade as he got older. The smell of himself filling the room though, that was good. This place was his now, he’d marked it with his seed, the air full of his musk. He ripped off the clothes confining him, proud of his new body, snorting at the stench of pheromones coming from his arm pits, and he knew what he needed, what would make him feel all better. 

A fuck. He needed someone to fuck, a man to fuck, a man to dominate. He didn’t need to wait long. Gregory from finance stopped by to take a piss on the way to a meeting, and only got two feet into the door before the massive neanderthal had pinned him up against the wall, ripping off his clothes and impaling him on his nearly two foot long cock. This would be a fine specimen for his herd, if it survived, Nathan’s now simple brain thought. He hoped it would live through the conversion, he loved the way the small, screaming creature’s ass clung to his giant cock. Nathan had thought that having a bigger cock would help him become a bigger man–and he had no idea how right he was.