Of Favors and Family – Episode 1 (Part 1)

Some of these characters and settings are created by others, particularly the commissioner of the work.

Dinner had been lovely, but then, dinner was always a pleasure at the Hawthorn residence. Wade always enjoyed his time here–it was so much more pleasant that the rest of his time in town, constantly struggling to fill his quota of new recruits to send off to the jungles in the east. Here, in this beautiful antebellum manor, it was like nothing was wrong at all–no war, no protests, no riots. While he was certain that the Hawthorns kept up with the news, they made no mention of unpleasant topics over dinner conversation. Everything was bright, the conversation easy, the wine flowing. He did his best to not get too caught up in the ease, however–a wealthy man like Mr. Beauregard Hawthorne the Third didn’t invite a man like Wade, a hound mutt with nothing prestigious going for him beyond his position as the county’s army recruiter, which, in a time of war such as this, could open the strangest of doors, at times.

Now, however, dinner was finished, and Wade had retired to the study with the family patriarch for a glass of bourbon and a pipe–and for a chat, Wade assumed. He tugged the cuff of his dress uniform straight–Beauregard Hawthrorn showed him to a firm armchair and poured him a glass of bourbon. They chatted about the town for a bit, and a little about the war. Both of them knew what the chat was really about, however–the draft. This was not the first wealthy family that had welcomed Wade into their home, to plead for him to keep their sons from having to enlist. He found the conversations rather exhausting at this point, only because they had all grown so desperate. And so, he waited for the elderly hound to make his pitch.

“They should have never allowed camera over there. War never looks nice through a lens. I, for one, don’t need a play by play of how many we’ve lost, and where. All we should be hearing is about how we’re winning,” Beauregard said with a huff, blowing a cloud of smoke from his snout as he did. “I’m not surprised, really. Most of the men of character were lost in the great wars, after all. All we have now are cowards who pretend at honor, but wouldn’t know it if it was looking them right in the eye. Cowards, and men looking to make a buck off the young men doing the real work of fighting off the stinking commies. If you ask me, the press is in on it. They’re trying to undermine national morale! They’d be perfectly happy to let a red fleet sail right into San Francisco–they’d broadcast it as a great victory for America!”

He continued on like this for quite some time, and Wade only half listened. He’d heard it all before, after all, the last time he’d been over here for dinner half a year back. Wade generally considered himself to be paid well enough by the army to have patience with men like Beauregard, and he threw in an occasional courteous nod at all the right pauses. It wasn’t polite, after all, to disagree with your guests about that sort of thing in these parts. Civility, after all, seemed to be the only thing holding the country together these days.

Not that Wade was a communist by any stretch. No, Wade was, more than anything else, tired. Tired, jaded by war, sick of sending more and more men away, only for his superiors to demand ever larger quotas from him. It was easier to grow cold to it, to keep your emotions locked up tight. Desperation could be contagious, and he liked his position–besides, he had a family to support. It only bothered him slightly, that the young men he shoved onto the bus each day were only a few years older than his son. More likely than not, he’d get sent off too, just as he had been. War was, more than anything, a business, and Wade was tasked with finding the raw materials to keep the machine humming along, wherever they ended up fighting.

Beau heaved a sigh, and for a moment, Wade wondered if he was finished, and what he might say. Thankfully, he continued, sparing him the effort. “I was one of them, I should say. When I was younger. Idealistic. I thought I knew how things worked. I thought we could all get along. It takes war to understand the world, to understand yourself. I learned that in the world war, as you know.”

Wade nodded. Beau was well known in these parts not only as a fine coonhound of well bred stock (though the rumor that his great parents had been from the same litter was naturally horrible slander, never to be repeated in town, unless you were looking for an invitation to duel) but also as a war hero with a purple heart, and a slight limp to use as an excuse to talk about it. Wade always made sure to thank him for his service, when he saw him. It was both polite, and when he did that, he was less likely to hear the story of his wounding in France yet again. It was dull, mundane, and Wade had heard of far worse injuries from more capable storytellers.

“I want my son to learn it too. He has, so far, refused to enlist, and so I fear I am forced to use…rather extreme measures. I want him on a bus to boot camp tomorrow, Wade, I honestly don’t care if you hogtie him and throw him in with the luggage.”

Ethan’s Birthday (Part 5)

The rest of the men all gave off a series of grunts, lows and barks in agreement, and Wes stepped away from Ethan, letting him get a better look at himself in the mirrored wall on one side of his bedroom. The horse behind him was still fucked him rough, but the cock was no longer struggling to fit inside him. Ethan could…feel it. Hell, he could see it, when the horse drove in deep, the tip pushing against the inside of his belly. He couldn’t see any flesh remaining on him anywhere–his entire body, inside and out, was coated in the same orange rubber as the mask itself. Wes came closer to add one final touch–he squeezed a big handful of rubber into his hands and slopped it over Ethan’s lower back, pulling and shaping it into a thick fox tail. He gave it a tug, and Ethan let out a surprised mew–he could feel it, suddenly, swish it back and forth, and it felt…right. He felt right.

“Yes, looking good, though you’re still a little…big, I think,” Wes said, laid his hands on Ethan, and he felt the rubber contract, pulling tighter and shrinking, his frame shrinking until he was nearly a foot shorter, just barely cresting five feet tall, and the massive horse leaned over him, grabbed him, and picked him up in his hooved hands, fucking him roughly on his massive cock in the air, Ethan feeling it sliding the entire length of his body to the middle of his chest, his own puny fox cock dribbling its own rubber cum onto the floor. “Better–much better…but you know? I just don’t buy it, you know? Such a slutty fox, and only two holes to use. We can do better than that, can’t we?”

Wes stepped up and started rubbing Ethan’s tight rubber ballsack in his hand, and then started pushing it up against his body. He could feel them shrinking and collapsing in on themselves–it was painful, but also so…delightful, feeling his body manipulated while this horse impaled him. Wes pushed two fingers in, carving out a little indentation below the fox’s puny cock, and then widened it, his balls now gone entirely, a narrow slit replacing them, and Wes pushed in deeper still.

“Yeah, how about that? Now you have a little slutty pussy to go with that tiny little cock of yours. Hey Rover–get over here–let’s put that big red bone of yours to work on this slut’s newest hole.”

The bright red pup bounded over, eager at last for some attention. The horse sat on the side of the bed, and Rover rammed his knot into Ethan’s new pussy, the two cocks meeting in the middle, inside of him, and wave after wave of pleasure washed over Ethan, his body and his mind, pummeling him and his will into submission until at last, he felt a final orgasm over take him, his puny cock spraying a load of bright orange cum in a fountain between him and the dog, still fucking him quickly, and close to orgasm himself.

“Yes, I think you’ll do very nicely,” Wes said, pulling something out from his coat, something of black rubber, and sliding it over his head. It was a mask of his own, solid black with a white stripe running from the top of the forehead down the back. He stripped off the rest of his clothes and revealed a thick black member underneath, stroking it, watching the thick black ooze begin to slide over his body, the musk of him growing even more powerful as he changed, growing even larger than the horse, body thick with muscle and fat. He climbed up and forced the massive cock down the fox’s throat, and the three of them fucked his small frame, stretching and abusing him, and the rougher they were, the more pleasure he got from it. The heady musk in the room was working on all of them, reminding them that they were owned by their master, by this rubber skunk, that even when their bodies had returned to flesh, and even when the masks came off, none of them would be free souls ever again–none of them wanted to be free ever again.

For the next several hours, Ethan was pummelled from all sides, fucked by every animal multiple times, rainbows of rubber cum spewing from every hole he now had, until at last, exhausted, Wes allowed them all to begin to change back. All of them except for Ethan, at least. He remained in his fox form, mewing and growling softly, one hand toying with his tiny cock, while the other sliding into his new pussy, amazed by how sensitive it is. Wes allowed his other animals, now back in their masks, to return to the party, leaving him and Ethan alone. “Now, as for your birthday present, I happen to have a friend with a kennel full of dogs–all of them studs. How would my little fox like to spend the night with them, getting his little pussy filled with the real doggy cum?”

Ethan tried to say something, tried to do anything at all, but at a touch, the rubber coating him had solidified, and was shrinking further, until he was small enough to slip into a pocket–which Wes did, taking his leave. He’d return Ethan home in the morning–probably–if the little fox hadn’t been so mindfucked by the end of his very special birthday to remember he’d ever even been human at all.

Ethan’s Birthday (Part 4)

“Now, how about something a bit more challenging for you?” Wes asked, and beckoned the man wearing the yellow horse mask, with the massive equine cock hanging between his thighs, over to him, and Wes started stroking it, the man giving a whiney of excitement as the rubber began to extend and grow over the rest of his body–though something else was happening too. The rubber wasn’t just covering him, the man was growing taller, and wider. The rubber seemed to be going on thick, adding to the man’s already muscular frame, until he was standing in beside him, over seven feet tall, built like a hard working draft horse, thighs almost as thick as Ethan’s waist…and the cock. It was no horse cock, not anymore. No, it was the horse cock of horse cocks. Two feet long, thicker than most men’s thighs. Ethan stared at it in some confused daze of lust and horror, not quite sure what to make of the thing at all.

“You want it in you, don’t you, you little, slutty fox,” Wes whispered into his ear.

“I…I can’t take that. No one can take that.”

“No one?” Wes said with a laugh. “Show ‘em piggy.”

With an excited grunt, the pig bent over, ass towards the horse, and he clomped over on his now hooved feet. He had to squat slightly to get is cock lined up with the shorter pig’s hole, but he pressed the head to the pink opening, and it simply slid into the pig’s hole without a single moment of resistance. It didn’t look like he was fucking an ass at all–just a toy like a fleshlight, though from the look on his face, the pig was enjoying the fuck greatly. The horse slid all the way in, up to the hilt, and them slipped back out, the cock coming free with a pop, the pig’s ass closing up perfectly like nothing had been inside it a moment before.

“He didn’t seem to have any problem with it, did he?”

Ethan started clawing at the rubber again. It was impossible. All of this was impossible, but Wes shoved him against the wall, leaning in close, and Ethan was suddenly aware of how…small he seemed, compared to the big bellied bear leaning into him. “Please…I don’t…”

“No, you do,” Wes said, leaning in and kissing him on the lips of the mask, and Ethan felt it, smelled his breath, smelled the cigar and the whiskey he must have had earlier. His cock was aching now, not inside the rubber, but as the rubber. It was hard, and horny, and he could feel it warping his mind, and his perspective, especially once Wes started rubbing it while he kept kissing him. He did want it. He wanted to know…what that felt like, but the only way that could be possible was if…if that pig was more rubber than he was human. But if that was true…then how could he possibly change back? Did…did he want to change back, really? Had he ever felt this much pleasure in his life, even at the greatest highs he’d experienced? No, this was new. This was something better, and as strange and terrifying as it was, he knew that if he backed out now, he would spend the rest of his life wondering what would have happened if he’d just said–

“Yes…Yes, I want it in me, all the fucking way.”

“Well, we’d better make sure you have protection. I wouldn’t want my cute little slutty fox getting hurt, now, would I?” Wes asked with a grin, his hand shoving some of the rubber coating Ethan around to his ass, his thick fingers shoving it between his cheeks, where he could feel it sticking to them. “Such a nice hole you have–still, there’s room for improvement everywhere, don’t you think?”

One finger slipped into his hole, and then another. Wes pulled his hand out, spun Ethan around so he was facing the wall, and pushed him up against it, telling his ox to come over. He milked more of that strange, clear goo into the palm of his hand, coating it, and then went back to fingering Ethan’s hole, working the substance into him, watching it change to a bright orange and slip inside of him until he could slide his entire fist in without any resistance at all. Ethan just kept rubbing his tiny cock, but now, it was no longer the most sensitive thing about him–no, his ass was nearly bringing him to his knees. Everytime it stretched to let Wes’s fist inside, there was no trace of pain, just the most delightful stretching sensation he’d ever known, something he didn’t even have words to describe.

“Alright, I think he’s good and ready. Have your way with him–and make sure it’s a good rough fuck, just the way he likes it.”

The horse came behind him, pushed the head against the entrance to Ethan’s now rubberized hole, and forced it inside of him with a thrust, the cock sliding almost a foot into him before it hit a moment of resistance, making Ethan moan in pain. The horse didn’t stop though–it just kept fucking into him, driving in a bit deeper each time, panting and huffing, gripping Ethan’s hips hard enough that he was certain he would bruise. All the while, Wes just kept milking his ox, smearing more and more rubber onto Ethan’s frame, feeding it to him off his hands, shoving it down his throat, Ethan feeling it stretch with the same delightful pleasure as his new ass–and he imagined that after everything he’d swallowed from the pig earlier, the horse would have no problem fucking his throat either. Wes didn’t wait for the horse though–he simply slid his entire hand into Ethan’s snout, and he felt his jaw stretch around the entire fist as it wormed down into his throat, the only thing he could see was Wes’ thick, hairy forearm pushing deeper and deeper into him, before sliding back out again. “F-Fuck, never…had my throat fisted before,” Ethan said, or tried to say, but all that came out of his mouth was a high pitched mewing, almost like something between a moan and a sigh.

“Yeah, don’t worry about talking little fox–none of my toys need to talk while they’re playing, right toys?”

Ethan’s Birthday (Part 3)

“Trade secret, I’m afraid,” Wes said, “Proprietary. Still, doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it, right?” He walked over to the blue headed ox, and gave his huge bull cock a little stroke, the man giving a long low of pleasure as he did, the blue mask sliding down his body, slowly, and the pig took Ethan’s hand in his own rubber mitt, and moved it lower, to his slick rubber pig cock. Then wrapped an arm around Ethan’s back and pulled him into the suit, and he sank into it, the pig hugging him tighter to the rubber, their cocks pressing against each other. “Seems like Piggy has taken a liking to you.”

Ethan moaned, unable to believe how…sensual the suit felt from the outside. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like on the inside. He…wanted to know. He looked over at Wes and the Ox, whose mask was now covering most of his upper body, and saw that suit was taking on a different form–a muscular chest with a hefty barrel gut beneath. He even seemed taller, somehow, which made his massive cock and balls seem a bit more proportional. Wes, however, was gripping the Ox’s cock with both hands, tugging and shaping it, the Ox moaning loudly as he did, the rubber covering the rest of his body now, and Ethan watched his cock and balls merge and inflate, becoming a massive udder with a single, cock sized teat. Wes gave it a jerk, and something spurted from it onto the carpet–it was clear, almost like wet silicone or lube.

“It…it can just change like that?” Ethan asked, “and what is that stuff?”

“Raw material,” Wes said, “Ox here likes being milked, don’t you Ox? Almost as much as you like fucking.”

Ox nodded and gave another long low, grinning wide.

“The masks are great on their own, but if you want their full…functionality, then they need to bond with you, Ethan. This is going to be more than just a mask–it’s going to be you. In fact, by the time we’re finished, you might find it more comfortable than your own skin.”

Ethan was getting that creepy feeling again, but the pig’s body was so comfortable, he didn’t want to go anywhere. He felt himself slipping down, however, sliding against the pig until he collapsed to his knees in front of that bright pink cock, and without even needing to be told, he started sucking on it, the pig playing with it’s huge gut while he did, and the muscular Ox walked over with Wes, who began milking the teat in earnest, pumping the clear rubber ooze all over the mask on Ethan’s masked head.

He couldn’t see it happening, but as soon as the clear liquid came into contact with his mask, it turned a bright orange, matching the color exactly, and began to run down off the top of his head and down his naked body. It was…warm, but not unpleasantly so. It clung to him, but not tightly exactly–some of it ran down the side of his face and down his chest where he could reach it. He found he could mold it and shape it–but when he tried to pull it away from his body, it just stretched, and wouldn’t come away from his skin. Unnerved, he tried to pull away, but  the pig gripped him tighter, and Wes crouched down beside him, his pit close to Ethan’s nose, making him sigh in pleasure at the scent. “Now Now, there’s no backing out now–just a little more, and we’ll have some real fun with you.”

He kept sucking, and felt something start flowing from the pig’s cock and into his mouth. It tasted vaguely like cum, but with a lube-like texture that made his stomach turn. After a few minutes, the pig released his head, and Ethan managed to pull his mouth free of the pig’s cock. For a moment, and saw thick strands of the same rubbery substance connecting his mouth to the cock, also turning a bright orange. Had he been swallowing it this whole time, without even noticing? They snapped away, and stuck to the mask and his lips, while Wes pulled him up to standing, and pushed him towards the mirror.

He was covered with it–or at least, there was a lot of the strange rubber substance on his body, running down from his head to his knees. “There, that’s a good amount to get started with, I think,” Wes said. “Now, you said we should do something about that cock of yours, right?”

With a hand, Wes pushed some of the orange glop from the top of the mask, down Ethan’s chest to his cock, and he covered his cock and balls in the entire glob. “Now, what do you think we should give you? I think you’re a slutty fox, don’t you? And from what I hear, you’re not much of a top, so I don’t think you need a lot.” Ethan moaned through the mouth of the mask as Wes pulled his cock from the glob of rubber and started squeezing it. It felt almost like he was being put into a chastity cage, his moderately sized cock getting squashed down into a small cage of some sort–his balls as well were being pulled up tight against the bottom of his cock. Wes pulled the extra rubber away from it, and there Ethan saw a two inch, bright orange, rubber cock cage the shape of a fox’s cock–similar to the red dog’s, but with a much smaller knot around the base, and a less flared head. He reached down to touch it, and to his surprise, it was…incredibly sensitive. He mewled slightly as he rubbed himself, feeling how the gooey rubber had hardened into a sleeve, trying to tug it away, but it wouldn’t come free from his cock, just like how the goo had stuck to his chest and refused to pull away before. Unlike the others, whose cocks maintained some flexibility, his felt rigid and stiff–only his tighter ball sack had the slightest give, like a thick stress ball. Wes gripped them in his fist and gave them a squeeze, delighting in the mewling pleasure coming from Ethan’s mouth as he collapsed against him again, rubbing his nub sized cock against his belly, amazed at just how much he could feel through the rubber–more than he could through his own skin, it seemed.

Ethan’s Birthday (Part 2)

Apparently, the other four animals had been mingling close, because as soon as Wes gave a wave, they all dropped whatever they were doing and headed right for the two of them. Once they’d assembled, Ethan led them down the hall to his bedroom, unlocked it (later on, people tended to fuck in whatever room might be free–keeping a lock on his own assured him he’d always have a place for his own pleasure as the night wore on) and all six of them filed into the room. It was spacious, but with six sizable men in it, it still felt a bit tight. Ethan looked at the four other men in their masks–and saw they were all colored differently. The pig he’d seen earlier was pink, there was a golden yellow horse mask he’d seen for a moment earlier, as well as a blue bull, and a red pup, modeled after a german shepherd. That one in particular was rather…enticing for Ethan, and while he was sure he’d be getting a taste of all of them, that one he wanted most, he thought.

Once the door was closed and relocked behind them, the four of them began to strip out of their clothes–also matched to the color of their masks, even down to their underwear. But it was what was underneath that which made Ethan’s breath catch–it was the horse he saw first–his pants had been…rather baggy, and so when he saw the massive yellow rubber cock hanging out the leg of the yellow boxers. The horse dropped those, and Ethan saw the rest–a bright yellow rubber cock sleeve–well, genital sleeve, really, since it also swallowed up his balls, into a massive set of low hanging rubber horse testes. The others all dropped theirs and revealed similar set ups. The pig and dog had members that could at least be held in my a pair of underwear, while the bull, like the horse, had spent the evening so far with a massive, girthy bull cock worming down the leg of his pants. It might have looked comical to some, four mostly naked, fairly average guys wearing lifelike rubber masks and huge rubber dongs over their own, but Ethan was fascinated.

“It seems that you like the look of those too,” Wes said, well aware of where Ethan was staring, the fox mask’s jaw dropped low. Ethan had…almost forgotten he had it on, it was so light, and he wasn’t even sweating too much in it.

“I…had better have one of those too,” Ethan said, “Or I’m not going to match.”

Wes laughed, “You’re as greedy as I imagined you might be. Don’t worry, we’ll get you…covered, but first, let me show you something more interesting than that, even. This will really impress you.”

Wes walked over to the closest man–the pink pig–reached out and started stroking his cock. The pig shuddered and snorted in obvious pleasure, leaned in and shoved the snout of his rubber mask into Wes’ armpit…and as Wes kept stroking the pig’s corkscrewing cock, Ethan noticed that the rubber was beginning to look…wet. Wes gave it a few more strokes, and and then stepped back, letting the pig himself take over the task, and that was when Ethan noticed his mask. It was longer. It no longer stopped right at the top of his neck–no, it had somehow extended down, and as he watched, it was growing down over his shoulders, and down his arms and his chest. It wasn’t simply coating his body, however–no, when it went over his chest, it grew out into two massive pink moobs, and then filled out into a massive pink gut where the man’s six pack had been moments before. His arms were similarly flabby, but thick as well, his hands swallowed up by gloves, fusing his hands into three fingers. The rubber around the pink cock had also been expanding, growing around his very wide hips and fat ass, then down, forming two wide thighs, his feet covered last, the man going up on his toes as thich wide trotters filled in as boots. There, now, in less than a minute, was a pink, rubber pig, the mask now somehow even more lifelike, fat shaking and jiggling as he kept stroking his cock…and then the tongue lolled out the side of his snout, and Ethan lost it.

He started pawing at the mask on his head, trying to get it off, but before he could get it loose, Wes was there beside him, arm up, his musk filling Ethan’s nose, and he went slack, sagging slightly into Wes’ arms. “There now, relax! There’s no harm done, trust me. He can be back to normal as soon as I want him to be.”

“I…That’s not possible…” Ethan muttered.

“No? Well, why don’t you go feel it and see?” Wes said, “But first, why don’t you get out of those uncomfortable clothes? You’ll feel much more natural and relaxed without them. Trust me.”

Ethan hadn’t been wearing much to the party–just a harness and a pair of rubber shorts, but Wes was right–he would feel better without them on. Wes helped him with the harness while he dropped the shorts, and then Wes slid an arm around his waist and walked him over towards the pig, who was still gleefully stroking himself, while feeling up his chubby body with the other hand.

“Go on,” Wes said, “Give him a belly rub–he likes that.”

A bit tentatively, Ethan reached out and gripped the pig’s gut. He had expected it to feel like a balloon, but somehow it had heft. Not quite the same feel as real fat, he supposed–but more like memory foam. He pressed his hand into it, the pig giving a grunt and leaning into his palm, and when he pulled the hand away it left an indentation for several seconds. “I…I still don’t understand it. None of this makes any sense–who…how did you do it?”

Ethan’s Birthday (Part 1)

Ethan could cope with most things, but if there was one thing that absolutely chafed him, it was missing out. Missing out on a party, missing out on the newest gear, missing out on the hottest clubs and the best shows. So Ethan had resolved to simply make sure that everything of any consequence happened around him–preferably at his place. The reputation of his parties, in particular, were already legendary, but if you were anyone, you made sure not to miss his birthday parties, especially if strange, kinky sex was your thing. For Ethan, that was one of the things he hated missing out on the most.

But this year, he found himself in a huff. He most certainly had missed out on something, and to make matters worse, people were here, at his party, flaunting it in his face. It was these masks. Now, Ethan had a thing for masks–particularly animal masks, and even more particularly sexy animal masks. But these…well, he’d honestly never quite seen anything like these before. He had seen four of them so far–a pig, a horse, a bull, and a pup, and usually with masks of this sort, you either had something thick and clunky, but which appeared lifelike, or you had something contoured to your face that lost the realism, but allowed a bit more…interaction. These though–someone somewhere had discovered how to bridge the gap, and never had Ethan been so envious in all his life.

Five feet away, the man in the pig mask was laughing. Laughing! With a mask on! The mouth opening like a real jaw, and he’d ever heard his snorting in it. Pigs were not particularly Ethan’s preference, but it didn’t matter. He wanted one, but he was too embarrassed at not knowing about them to dare go up to a stranger and ask where he’d gotten them.

And so he was miserable, mired in jealousy at his own party, desperately attempting to appear to be having as much fun as possible to try and cover up the fact that all he really wanted for his birthday was something no one had thought to give him–or so he’d thought. “Hello–you must be the birthday boy, is that right?” Ethan turned, and found an imposing fellow standing behind him, a couple inches taller than six feet, with broad shoulders, a hefty, hairy gut, wearing black jeans and a rubber vest, black, with a white stripe running down the back, mirroring his beard. He had on a small, black masquerade mask covering the upper half of his face, allowing a thick black beard to spill out below, with a bright white stripe running down the center. Ethan didn’t know him–but that wasn’t surprising. His parties usually attracted daisy chains of plus ones.

“Yes, uh, hi–that’s right,” Ethan said, the man shaking his hand, Ethan’s rather petite fingers engulfed in the stranger’s sizable palm.

“My name’s Wes. This is quite the party, I must say. However, I wanted to give you my gift before things got too…rowdy in here,” the man said, and handed Ethan a flat box, wrapped in black paper and a white bow. “I think you’ll enjoy it, given the sort of things I’ve heard about you.”

Ethan resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but couldn’t resist the gift, even if it was certain to be something he had at least three of in his collection. He popped open the lid, and gasped. Inside was a bright orange rubber mask. He picked it up and held it in his hands, examining it, the sharp pointed snout, black whiskers and pointy ears.

It was the same as the ones he had been envying all night. But for him–and it was a fox, his favorite. “How…how did you know?” he said, looking up at Wes, “I mean, thank you! I…to be honest, I’ve been seeing these all night, and wanting one for myself, but…what are they? Who makes them?”

“Oh, well, I do,” Wes said. “Custom made–I have quite the waiting list, actually, but I’ve heard that having you in one would do wonders for my exposure, so I thought, why not?” He looked around, “I…may have invited a few of my other clients around, as you have apparently seen. Nothing wrong with drumming up a little business, right?”

Ethan didn’t care. It was his. He found the hole in the bottom, made sure he had it facing forward, lest he make a fool of himself, and pulled it over his head. Wes helped him get it situated, feeling the rubber molding tight to his face, and he hurried over to a mirror hanging on the wall to see for himself, Wes following behind, smiling. It was…amazing. Ethan opened and closed his mouth a few times, watching the rubber follow his jaw movements perfectly. He could even wiggle the ears by wiggling his own ears and scalp. “It’s…wow, this is so generous, thank you so much,” he said. Wes came up behind him, and placed his rubber gloved hand on the back of Ethan’s head, rubbing the rubber there, and he felt the younger man shiver slightly.

“I chose well. It looks very good on you, I must say.”

Wes kept rubbing, slowly, and Ethan grinned, the rubber fox face in the mirror smiling with him. “You want to be a good little fox boy, don’t you?”

Ethan nodded. The man wasn’t necessarily his type, but the gift was generous, and the way he was rubbing his head…he did want to be a good little fox for him, actually.

“I did have one other small request. Now that I have the five of you together, I was wondering if we could get a group photo. You know, for publicity. Do you know where the six of us could get a little privacy for a while?”

“Y-Yes sir,” Ethan said, “We can all use my room. It should be big enough.”

“Good boy. Wait here while I round them up–it’ll just be a moment.”

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 4)

Above him, Dingo was panting harder, as his pace increased, and Geoff focused on getting Chance out of his clothes, using the knife on his belt to make the process much simpler. After all, this pup wasn’t going to have any need for this sort of office attire, and they were all going to be too big for him anyway, at this point. He was still a bit annoyed that he’d pulled the collar tight when he’d put it on, but as he watched Chance going to town on the much larger Dingo’s cock, he found it pretty sexy, actually. By the end of it, he might even shrink him a little further.

Now that Chance was naked, Geoff squatted down, and he could see that Chance’ cock had already taken to the change–his human member was gone, and in its place was a throbbing red rocket, similar to Dingo’s, but not quite as large. Geoff got down close and started stoking it, listening to Chance whimper a bit as Dingo rammed his cock down his husband’s throat. “Feel that, pup? Feel’s good, doesn’t it? Much better than that old, ugly ass human cock ever did. I don’t even know why we put up with keeping your kind around–still, there will be one less of you soon enough.”

He saw a flash of anger in Chance’ eye as he said that, and Geoff smirked. There was quite a bit of fire in this one for sure. He was going to have to break him out of that one way or another–but most pups like this could respond well to some good old fashioned humiliation. Once they really understood who was in charge here, and just how low Geoff could make them sink, they settled down in the end. “Alright Dingo, that’s enough. I think it’s time we start putting this pup through some paces, see if he’s even worth training or not. Go get the treats out of the car, partner.”

Dingo wasn’t happy about having to quit fucking Chance’ face, especially as close as he was to shooting, but an order from Master was always more important. He redid him fly and headed for the door, leaving Chance gasping for breath, and Geoff next to him, patting him on the head. “You…you can’t get away with this, too many people are going to miss us.”

“Oh pup, trust me, this isn’t the first time I’ve done something like this. But you’d be surprised what people will believe. The two of you selling your house suddenly, moving off to Hawaii for a fresh start–it isn’t that far-fetched you know. Besides, these collars have a way of…smoothing things out, over time. In a few months, no one will even remember the two of you existed.”

“That’s…that’s not possible, none of this shit is possible!” Chance said.

“Now now, keep that anger in check–after all, only the best pups get to end up on the police force, remember. Dingo was a prime candidate, but you…well, let’s just say that I don’t know if you can make the cut. A bit too…short, for one thing. If you want to end up with your husband, instead of dropped off in the drunk tank tonight as a lowlife, criminal mongrel, then you should do your best to be a good boy–besides, doesn’t being a good boy feel so much better, than being a bad one?”

The burst of pleasure was stronger now, and seemed to connect right to his new cock. Chance tried to fight it as best as he could, but he was beginning to wonder if there was a way out of this at all. Angus seemed…so far gone. The way he’d fucked his face…it hadn’t even felt like his husband doing it, just a stranger using him. Maybe…if he could just get the collar off of him, somehow, he would remember what was going on. Chance didn’t know if there was a way to reverse what the collars were doing to them, but that seemed to be the first step, if they were going to get out of this without the badger warping them into his own little slaves.

He heard the front door open up again, and Dingo came tromping through with three boxes of doughnuts in his arms–and one doughnut stuffed in his maw. Geoff saw that Dingo hadn’t been able to resist dipping into the treats they had brought over for Chance’ training, and he got up, “Dingo! Bad boy, those aren’t treats for you, and you know that.”

Dingo whimpered, his ears lowering, and he put the half eaten doughnut back in the top box. “Sorry Master, I was just…hungry, and I know I did a good job, and so I thought–”

“You dumb mutt, we covered this yesterday–who does the thinking around here? You, the dumb dog? Or me, the smart badger.”

“You do the thinking sir, sorry…”

“Leave him alone,” Chance said, at them both, “Stop…stop treating him like he’s some stupid brute, that you get to play with. He’s a fucking person!”

Geoff laughed, “Listen to that pup, Dingo–he thinks you’re a person. Is that what you are?”

“No sir, I’m just a dumb doggy,” Dingo said, tail wagging, reciting what Master had told him about himself the day before, “A real mean one on the streets, but I’m just your fat bitch in the sheets sir, I’ll let you do anything you want to me, and I’ll thank you for it after.”

“That’s a good boy–you can finish that treat–but no more unless I say so.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dingo said, the doughnut muffling the second half of his reply, as he shoved it into his snout.

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Parts 1 & 2)

Chance had been trying not to panic. Angus had told him he was getting drinks with a friend and that he might be out late, which was usually code for Angus hooking up with someone. It didn’t bother Chance necessarily, though he always liked to know where he was going and who he was meeting. He’d asked for details, and Chance had sent him the name of a bar he didn’t know well…but none of that was really cause to worry. He made dinner, but Angus didn’t show, so he ate by himself and put the rest in the fridge for him when he got home. The evening wore on into night, and Chance found himself checking his phone every few minutes, resisting the urge to text him, and when he finally did…he got no response. Not even a read notification from him. Still, he’d have to check it at some point, right?

Chance had gotten ready for bed and laid down, but couldn’t stop checking his phone, and certainly couldn’t get to sleep not knowing what was going on. He ended up going downstairs for a snack and to watch some TV. It was after midnight when he finally dozed off, and his alarm went off for work at six the next morning…and Angus still wasn’t home, and he still hadn’t received any word back from him.

There had to be a rational explanation right? This…wasn’t normal behavior, but Angus had been behaving a bit…oddly for the last few days, ever since that embarrassing stop by that cop. Chance had…an inkling of what might have happened between his husband and the cop that night, while they’d spent a few minutes back behind the car, but he hadn’t really wanted to believe it had actually happened. Was there something else going on entirely, that Chance didn’t know about? Angus had, on rare occasion, slept over with someone he hooked up with. Most likely he had gotten too drunk to drive, and maybe too drunk to remember to text him, and he’d ended up sleeping over on accident. Still, even if the explanation was reasonable, it didn’t do much to settle the anxiety brewing in his gut.

He got ready for work, expecting and hoping that Angus would burst in and everything would be fine. Chance would be…angry, sure, but mostly, he just wanted to know that he was safe. He never appeared, and Chance left him a note, and then went to work. He couldn’t focus though. He kept checking his phone, kept trying to call and message, but now…now his texts and calls didn’t even seem to be getting through, like Angus’s phone was in airplane mode, or dead. He ended up taking a break and calling the office here Angus worked–but no one there had seen or heard from him either–which was very unlike him. Chance told his manager he needed to leave to take care of an emergency–which he was very much hoping it wasn’t, went home, but Angus still wasn’t there…and so, he called the police.

The operator he spoke to was very empathetic, but told him that the police didn’t open a missing persons investigation until someone had been missing for 48 hours. In the meantime, she told Chance to call the last place he knew he’d been–and gently suggested calling local hospitals, and asking about any recent admissions without ID. Chance couldn’t even begin to think about what that might mean, and so he found the number for the bar Angus had texted him and called them, wondering if they had seen him. To his surprise, no one remembered him, or anyone like him, visiting. He had them check for a purchase with their shared cards, but there was no record of any transaction. Had Angus lied to him? If he had…then why?

He put off calling hospitals for a few more hours, but did eventually, mostly because the anxiety of not knowing was worse than the most dire possibility. He didn’t know whether he should be happy or not, when none of the hospitals in the city turned up any record of Angus being admitted, or of any John Doe’s matching his description. It was like he had just…vanished. Had he left? Why would he leave? Why would he want to leave and make Chance this miserable? None of it made any sense, but there was nothing else that he could do, aside from wait.

The knock on his door surprised him, but he rushed for it anyway. Any news was good news at this point, at least he would know. He flung open the door, but it wasn’t Angus, even though that wouldn’t have made any sense. Instead, he found himself looking at two police officers in uniform. In front was a short, stocky badger, smiling at him, and behind him was a nearly seven foot tall, massive, dog. He too as smiling, but he didn’t seem…nearly as nice as the shorter badger–if anything, it was…menacing. “Hello, we’re here about a possible missing person,” the badger said, “Do you mind if we come in?”

Chance stepped aside and the two officers entered, and he was relieved that someone was doing something at least…though it was odd all the same. “I…I thought the police couldn’t do anything until after 48 hours? That’s what the operator told me when I called.”

The badger nodded, “Well, there have been a few…incidents, similar to this one lately. I wanted to investigate it early, before…well, I can’t really provide details about ongoing investigations, but time is of the essence in these cases.”

“Of course, anything I can do to help.”

The hefty dog didn’t say anything, just sniffed around a bit, looking…slightly confused. Chance noticed he had on a collar, which was odd. Most dogs didn’t wear collars–it tended to send the wrong sort of message. In fact, there was something else odd about this. He had given the operator his name and phone number–but he couldn’t recall giving her his address. He must have though–how else would the officers have found him? Now that he thought about it again, he must have. That was the only thing that made sense after all, and he wasn’t exactly sure of whether he was coming or going at the moment, anyway, to be sure of, well, anything.

The badger sat him down in the living room, and started asking him what seemed like fairly normal questions. Where Angus worked, whether he’d had plans the night before, whether he had any hobbies, anything that he might be doing. Chance answered honestly…but the questions seemed a bit…general, somehow. Every time he tried to give him details about how Angus had been acting oddly, or about the bar he’d told him about, the badger didn’t seem interested in those parts of the story at all. At the same time, the badger sitting in front of him seemed…familiar, somehow, but he couldn’t quite place him. It was after the interview had been going for a little while, that Chance had an epiphany–the badger in front of him was the same badger who had stopped him and Angus a few nights ago, on their way home from the city.

Was it a coincidence? Maybe it was…but why would a cop be out patrolling the highway late at night one day, and investigating missing people the next? It didn’t make sense. The badger’s partner was a bit…off putting as well. He kept nosing around the room, sniffing things out, but he still hadn’t said a word since stepping in the door. As the questions became more personal, asking about Angus’s family, asking about Chance’ family–which didn’t have anything to do with Angus being missing–and he finally asked the badger for his name and badge number. The badger just smiled, gave a whistle, and before Chance could do anything, the dog had rushed over, planted his thick paws on Chance’s shoulders, and had him pinned to the chair he was sitting on.

“Good boy,” the badger said, “Thankfully, you were slow enough to catch on that I got more than enough information for my purposes. That means we can skip right to the fun.” He stood up, slid one paw into his pocket, and pulled out a leather collar, similar to the one the dog looming over him had on. “Well, I can tell you one thing for sure, Chance–your husband isn’t missing. He’s right behind you.”

Chance looked at the badger, and then up at the rough dog above him, confused. “What…what are you talking about?”

“Well, on Saturday, when I pulled the two of you over, Chance…really did not want to go to jail that night, so I offered him a trade of sorts–suck my cock, and I could look the other way…but you probably knew about that, didn’t you? You don’t seem surprised by it. Did you tell that husband of yours what you did Dingo?”

The big dog shook his head, “No sir, I…I didn’t say anything about it.”

“Aww, were you embarrassed Dingo? Didn’t what your husband finding out how much more you like sucking my cock than his?”

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t know what fucking kind of joke this is, or if he’s in on it, but fuck you. Where’s my fucking husband?” Chance said. He tried to force his way up, but the dog leaned over further, pressing him back down, and he felt a blob of drool land on the top of his head.

“I already told you–he’s right there,” the badger said, fished around in his pocket again, and this time came up with Angus’s phone–and his wallet. “Looks like you’ve been messaging him plenty, lots of missed calls. I would have set up a rendevouz elsewhere, but he forgot his passcode, didn’t you Dingo?”

“Sorry sir,” Dingo said.

“He’s not too bright, that man of yours–good thing he’s got so much else going for him.”

“This isn’t fucking possible,” Chance said, “Look–if this is some…prank, or if I fucked up, just…just have Angus come out already, this isn’t fucking funny, alright?”

“Well, I suppose I can’t say I’m surprised that you don’t recognize him, but that’s the magic of the collar I suppose. He’s so much better as a good boy, than he ever was as a man, right Dingo?”

“Yes sir!” the dog said, “I’d much rather be master’s good boy, sir.”

“What do you think, Dingo, think this one-time husband of yours might make a good pup too?”

Dingo nodded, flinging more drool around, and Chance realized the thing pushing into the back of his neck was the dingo’s erect cock. He tried again to get up, but Dingo gripped him harder, digging his claws in enough to poke Chance through the shirt he was wearing, while the badger approached, collar between his claws, the grin on his face even wider, as Chance tried to pull away from him.

“Now now, don’t fight–you’ll feel so much better soon enough. If you’re a real good boy, I might let you top that husband of yours later, would you like that? Or were you usually the one getting topped, I wonder? That’s probably more likely–that blow job of his was pretty lackluster before I slipped his collar on him back there behind the car. After that…well, he was plenty eager, just like you’ll be I bet.”

Spook Mart (Part 3) [Interactive]

Raphael had been inside Miles’s home any number of times–outside of their holiday rivalry, the two of them were actually quite good friends, and their families would regularly have dinner together. The house, however, was deserted–if Miles’s wife was out trick-or-treating with the kinds, Miles usually manned the door, but no one was even answering, and the kids who were brave enough to approach were leaving empty handed.

On the porch, after trying the bell a couple of times, he gave up and instead tested the knob–and discovered it was unlocked. He called out to Miles, but heard nothing in reply–he decided to venture in and see what was going on with his neighbor. As he entered, he also realized something else–that this was probably all some ploy to get back at Raphael in the first place. It was an act–it had to be! It was Halloween, after all. If anything, it made Raphael a bit proud that he’d gotten so far under his neighbor’s skin that he’d go to these sorts of lengths in order to try and scare him and win this little competition of theirs. Armed now with a bit of cynicism, he was able to see the strange oddities inside the house for what they were–fakes and props, nothing else.

Sure, the large vats full of…nightmarish looking creatures, suspended in formaldehyde or what have you, certainly looked real and terrifying, but he’d seen the trucks himself–obviously they were just props. He walked over to one and looked at it–it seemed to be some child, not even a teenager, suspended in fluid, but no longer entirely human, like someone had switched the boy’s limbs with a dog’s. He tapped on the glass, still amazed at how lifelike it was, when the boy’s eyes flicked open, and he began clawing at the glass, mouthing wordlessly in pain, or terror–and it was enough to send Raphael several steps backward, before he could remind himself it had to be animatronics of some sort–the fact that it looked so much like Miles’s son was probably done on purpose, just to make it even scarier for him.

As he explored, he heard the sound of voices down below him, and made his way to the basement steps–but as he went down, it was not the small cellar that he recalled Miles having under his home. No, this was…massive, and went down at least another two stories below than it had before, most of it open. How had they been constructing this right under his feet, for months, and Raphael hadn’t even noticed? That sneaky bastard–he had to give him some credit for this part, he supposed.

He crept down onto the platform below, and now he could see the source of the voice, and the screams as well. In an open lab beneath the catwalk, strapped to a table, was Miles–wearing some of the most elaborate prosthetics Raphael had ever seen in his life. He was naked, but much of his skin wasn’t human anymore–it was scaled, like a reptile. His face was contorted as well, with a lizard like snout pushing out from his mostly human face, open and screaming in pain (a sound unlike anything Miles had heard–but it was probably pre-recorded) and one eye was human, while the other was larger, yellow, with an iris turned on its side. He was struggling with his bonds, while a human bustled about the lab in a white coat–the mad doctor, of course, muttering to himself and to Miles, before injecting him with something else…and then, Raphael began to doubt everything, all over again.

The screams from Miles were fresh, and he watched his neighbor’s frame began to expand with muscle–but not…entirely human muscle, exactly. He could hear the bones snapping and growing, as his feet turned into dark black hooves in front of his eyes, a mane of brown hair grew down his neck and back, and his cock–fuck, it engorged and began to grow, longer and longer, until it was a literal horse cock lying between his legs on the table, a scaled tail growing out above his ass, thick like a lizards, but with the same long hair as the mane…and how was that even possible?

Raphael was frozen in shock–he didn’t hear the guards come up behind him before grabbing him, and dragging him down to the lab below, were the scientist, while annoyed at the interruption, was also pleased to have another test subject in the midst. However, what sort of test does he have in mind for Raphael?

I’m switching to a new polling platform, again! I’ve never been a huge fan of first-past-the-post voting, and after poking around a bit, I found a site offering ranked choice polls! What that means, is that instead of choosing just one option, you can rank all of the options from your most favorite to least, and all of those choices affect the final outcome of the poll. It means you can vote for a less likely to win idea, while not spoiling the outcome for a more popular option you might like as well. You can find more details here

Here’s your choices

  1. Breeding Program
  2. Siamese Procedure
  3. Genetic Milking
  4. Viral Mutation

Here’s the public poll

Here’s the patron only poll

The polls will close in two days, on Saturday afternoon.

Police Dogs: Episode 1 (Part 6)

“Come on, get up,” Geoff said.

Angus stood up, but it was harder than it should have been. He could…see his gut sticking out from his waist, and it seemed so much larger than it had been, but it also felt…right, somehow. They went into the bedroom, and stood in front of the mirror on the wall. Angus was shocked. It wasn’t at all the reflection he was expecting, his body mostly covered with tan fur, his fat gut hanging surprisingly low, his face misshapen, more muzzle than mouth now, teeth…sharper than he remembered them being.

“You look like a mean dog, don’t you?” Geoff said, “I wouldn’t want to tangle with you on a dark night in an alley.”

“I…I guess so, sir.”

“Go on, growl, bare those teeth for me.”

Angus did, and he even scared himself a bit–not only because he did look a bit fierce…but also because it felt kind of good. It made his dick jump. Not as much as when he obeyed Master, of course, but…but Master was right, he did look like a mean dog.

“Yeah, that’s it–I don’t have to worry about you though. Around me, you’re just a good little puppy dog, aren’t you? You’d never bite the paw that feeds you,” He pulled out a doughnut he’d brought along, and slid it into Angus’s mouth, watching him devour it. “Yeah–that’s a good boy. Still, you could be a bit more imposing, I think. Let me see that collar.”

Angus was a bit worried that he might take it off him, but all Geoff did was loosen it a couple notches, making it feel loose around his neck–though it didn’t stay loose for long. In the mirror, he watched his frame start to swell, all of him growing evenly, until he was a few inches taller than before, and almost too wide to see himself in the mirror. He looked down at Master, and was surprised by how small he seemed to him now–he must have towered over him by a foot and a half or so…and while he knew he was probably stronger than him, and could take him in a fight, he stamped out that idea as quick as he could. He’d never hurt his Master, never in a million years–no, but if his Master didn’t like anyone…well, Angus knew what he could do to them.

“Yeah, that’s fucking hot, look at you,” Geoff said, “A big stupid, feral mutt, that’s what you are.”

“I…I thought I was a dingo…”

“Shut up. Get on your knees boy–I think you’ve finally earned this bone.”

Angus dropped to his knees as fast as he could, while Geoff pulled his cock free, and Angus started slobbering all over it. He had to be careful of his fangs now–they were much sharper than they’d been before, and Master had to slap him upside the head when he scraped his cock on them by accident, but he got the hang of it before long, and it tasted even better than he remembered. That, or he could just taste it better. His eyes seemed a bit dimmer somehow, but every other sense was ratcheted up–smell in particular. He found himself snorting in his Master’s scent, wanting to know it, and never, ever forget it.

Geoff got tired of his boy’s muzzle after a couple minutes, and ordered him to bend over the bed instead. The badger watched the dingo’s tail wag high in anticipation, knowing what was coming next. Geoff fucked him, and it hurt at first, but soon he was panting hard and pushing back, his own cock leaking onto the bed sheets beneath him. He never wanted this to end, he never wanted his Master to stop fucking him, even though he was equally desperate to feel the badger seed his load deep inside him. The badger’s thrusts quickened, and then he came deep, Angus letting off a howl of excitement, his own cock exploding, knowing he’d been a very good boy even without Master having to say it. He cleaned off Master’s cock afterwards on the bed, and Geoff pet him, running his claws through his soft tan fur, watching the brown highlights come in on his back, his tail filling out. He wasn’t quite finished, but would be by morning.

As they laid there, he filled his newest pet in on his new life. He didn’t work in an office anymore, and certainly wasn’t married to any human. No–he was Geoff’s partner on the police force, the meanest police dog on the force, at least until they got home. Here, he was Geoff’s chubby fuckhound, desperate to do anything for the badger’s cock. Parts of him tried to fight, but they were fading quickly. By bedtime, Angus was mostly gone–he was just Officer Dingo, now. He curled up beside his Master’s bed, where he always slept, and was snoring before too long, Geoff looking down, admiring the handsome boy he’d claimed for himself. This one, he really did want to keep for himself–it was a pity he came with so many strings attached. He’d dealt with harder cases before, though–it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He dug out Angus’s old wallet from his pants, memorizing the address before burning it, and the clothes, in the fireplace. They’d pay his one time husband a visit tomorrow, with another one of his special collars. Who knows? Maybe he’d get a couple of pliant pets for himself by the end of tomorrow night. Of course, if the husband didn’t come along easily, there were always other solutions as well.