Police Dogs: Episode 1 (Part 5)

Geoff led the way up to his apartment the next block over. It was small, but clean and efficient. As soon as they were inside, Angus was back on his knees, whining and pleading for Master to let him have another taste of his cock, but Geoff ordered him to strip. He wanted to see how his new boy was progressing in other ways. Angus did, still panting slightly, taking off his coat and tie, his shirt, slacks and underwear, standing completely naked in front of the badger, red cock jutting from its sheath, knot already slightly swollen. Geoff circled him, noting that he was quite a bit hairier than he’d been before, especially around his cock and ass. Short tan hair, giving Geoff a bit of an idea of what direction to push this new boy. He would be absolutely loyal to his master, of course–before too long, his need to serve wouldn’t even require him to wear the collar at all, but that wouldn’t happen until well after the physical transformation had completely finished. His face, too, was already looking less human. His ears had slid higher on his head,more pointed than round, and taken on the same tan coloring as the rest of his new fur. His mouth was also shifting, pushing out slightly into the hint of a muzzle, tongue longer and flatter, nose starting to blacken slightly. No tail yet, though–but soon. Probably after another hour or two.

“What do you want, boy?”

“I want to be your good boy sir,” Angus said, his ass wiggling a bit, almost begging for a tail to shake.

“Well, we should train you a little bit first, don’t you think? Teach you a few tricks? If you do well, I might feed you the bone you’re looking for,” Geoff said, groping the front of his uniform slacks. “But if we’re going to train you, you’re going to need some treats, don’t you think?” Geoff went into the kitchen, and returned with several flat boxes he had bought at the store earlier, in preparation. He opened the top one, revealing a dozen doughnuts inside of various varieties. “Do you like doughnuts, boy?”

Angus wasn’t quite sure how to answer, because all he really wanted at the moment was cock. “I…I guess so, sir.”

“Well, all of my good boys love doughnuts–after all, I like my partners to have some weight on them,” Geoff said, “Now kneel.”

Angus got on his knees, and Geoff broke off a bit of a doughnut, sliding it into his mouth. It was sweet and sugary, but it wasn’t until Geoff called him a good boy for obeying, and for eating his treat, that it took on a different flavor entirely. It tasted like love and victory. It tasted like his Master’s paw, and his cock, and his adoration and pride. Suddenly, he couldn’t imagine anything he wanted more than another treat–aside from his Master’s cum, of course. He licked his chops with his long tongue, and eyed the rest of the boxes as Geoff set them on the table near him. It was…a lot to eat, but he could do it for Master, he knew he could. He was a good boy, after all.

Geoff started putting him through a few paces, keeling and sitting, making him shake and roll over, ordering him to speak–or rather, bark like a proper dog, which sounded more like a proper pup each time he did it. The pieces of doughnut he fed him got larger and larger, Geoff eventually just shoving entire doughnuts into Angus’s mouth, watching him tear into them with joy, licking frosting from his now short, tan muzzle, looking up at him with delight after each one, knowing he was being good, and knowing that his Master was pleased with his obedience.

After a couple of boxes, Geoff got bored with the tricks, parked Angus on the couch and focused on feeding him. He felt so damn full, but every time he tried to stop, his Master would chasitze him lightly, and the shame would drive him to eat even more. As he did, Geoff would rub his gut, watching it expand with fat, his hips widening as well, the first little bit of a tail poking out above his ass before growing rapidly, his face now more dog than human in many ways–and it was time to start working on his mind.

“Now, tell me what you are, boy.”

“I’m a good boy!” Angus shouted, his voice muffled with a half devoured doughnut.

“Well you are that, but are you a human?”

“Y-Yes?” Angus said, hesitantly. He wasn’t quite sure why he hesitated, but that was the right answer, he thought, until he saw Geoff shake his head, and he realized he was wrong. “I…I thought I was though.”

“No, you aren’t a human. You do get confused though, don’t you? You aren’t a particularly smart boy, after all. You’re a dog.”

“I…I’m a dog…” Angus repeated, and Geoff fed him a doughnut, “Yeah, I’m a dog! Not…Not a human…”

Good boy. Do you know what kind of dog you are?” Geoff said, “You’re not a nice kind of dog–not a lab or a retriever. No–you’re a rough dog. A fighting dog. A mean dog, to everyone else but your Master, of course. No, you’re a dingo. Still a bit feral, rough around the edges–more than willing to snap at someone who looks at you the wrong way.”

Angus hesitated. That didn’t really…sound like him, did it? He liked being nice, and Chance told him he was a nice guy, and smart, and gentle…but Chance seemed so far away now, to him. So easy to…forget, almost. Master was probably right though, Master was right about most everything, and he knew that it he disagreed…that he’d be a bad boy, and he mostly didn’t want to be a bad boy.

Police Dogs: Episode 1 (Part 4)

It wasn’t the sort of bar Angus felt particularly comfortable in. Humans and anthros got along well, generally, but there were always spaces, and crowds, who preferred to be among their own. While it wasn’t legal to openly discriminate against anyone, if you wanted to self-select, no one was going to stop you. He stepped inside, and everyone stared at him when he did, making him known he was, if not unwelcome, at the very least a curiosity. Thankfully, Geoff was already there, sitting at a booth in the back, and he headed for him, sliding in across from him.

“There’s the boy,” Geoff said, smiling wide across his whole muzzle. “I was worried you might get cold feet.”

Angus shook his head, “I…look, I need to know…what was…since that night, something’s been happening to me.”

“Oh?” the badger said, still smiling, “What sort of things?”

Angus just looked at him, and realized that, most likely, the badger already knew exactly what was going on with him. He turned red in the face, realized this was a gigantic mistake, and started to get up to leave. He’d figure out some other way to deal with this, tell Chance what was going on, work through it–but he knew this badger wasn’t going to do anything to help him fix it.

“Leaving already? Sit your ass back down like a good boy,” Geoff said, and as hard as Angus fought it, he instinctually dropped back into the booth.

“You–that collar, it did something to me. I want you to fix it.”

“I don’t believe you, boy,” Geoff said, “I think you want something else more, don’t you? You want to put it back on. Feel that…pleasure some more. I haven’t had a dog with me on the force in quite a while, you know–my last partner ended up…well, he was worth more to me as someone else’s good boy, eventually. He was never as eager as you are, though. I had to hunt him down, but you came crawling back in less than a week,” he leaned closer, and Angus could smell his breath, flashing him back to that night on the side of the road for a moment, his own breath quickening, “in fact, I think this is a record. You want to be a good boy that badly, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Angus blurted out before he could stop himself, and all the shame he felt couldn’t mitigate the truth of the statement.

“Well, if you do really want that, here you go,” Geoff said, fished the collar out of his pocket, pulled the collar out, and laid it on the table in front of Angus.

“Can…If I put it on, can you change me back?”

“My Good Boy collars can do lots of things,” Geoff said, “But you still want to put it on, don’t you? Even if I told you in was permanent? It doesn’t make a difference to you boy–so stop pretending like it matters, and put it on.”

“I…I can’t, I’m married, and I just want things to go back to the way they were.”

Geoff just stared at him, and then down at the collar. It was clear that going back wasn’t on the table, at the moment, but maybe, if…if he was good enough, Master would change him back…later, right? He could probably do that, after all. He picked up the collar and held it in his hands. He hadn’t gotten to see it at all, that night, and he was surprised by how normal it looked–the ragged brown leather, well worn, and a tarnished silver buckle. It did smell strongly of dog, and the notches for the buckle, for some reason, ran the entire length of the collar, from right beside the buckle, all the way to the end of the foot and a half long leather strap. He ran it around his neck, but had a hard time securing the buckle, because of how hard his hands were shaking, he made it, and as soon as he did, that sense of complete pleasure washed over him again, and his tongue rolled out of his mouth, hanging down to his chin.

“That’s a very good boy, putting your collar on all by yourself,” Geoff said, “You feel better, having that on you?”

Angus nodded, rubbing himself through his pants, so happy to hear Master call him a good boy again. It had been so long–days!–without hearing that from him, and he could feel his heart thrumm with excitement, his dog cock about ready to burst. “Yes sir, thank you sir, for putting my collar back on! I missed it…” Angus said, and then leaned closer, “Can…can I suck your cock again, Sir? I…I mean, if you want…”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t want to have a beer with me first?” Geoff said, “I thought you said that you just wanted to talk to me about something, when you messaged me?”

Angus whined impatiently. He had said that, hadn’t he? Why had he said that! He hadn’t meant that, that was such a dumb thing to say.

Geoff laughed, “I only live a block from here, boy, so why don’t we go there?”

Angus nodded, and followed the badger out of the bar, the rest of the patrons looking at him knowingly. It wasn’t the first time Geoff had brought someone there in one of his collars, and they all knew that in a day or two, Geoff would bring them back around–only this time much later a night, and usually only wearing their new, favorite collar in the whole world, more than eager to let the rest of the patrons of the bar have their turn. But for now–he was Geoff’s, and as Angus followed him out of the bar, he didn’t notice everyone else grinning at him. The only thing he could think about was his Master.

Police Dogs: Episode 1 (Part 3)

His cock. The cock attached to his body. That wasn’t…the cock he should have, was it? He’d had sex with a couple of hounds before, so he knew exactly what he was looking at–where his normal, human cock should have been, he was looking at a bright red dog cock, sliding free of a sheath running up from his balls.

He heard the toilet flush, and quickly scrambled for a clean pair of underwear to throw on before Chance came into the bedroom and fell on the bed, and Angus took his turn in the bathroom. Safely alone, he pulled down the briefs again, and just…stared at it, and then felt it, prodding it as it grew erect, and all he could hear in his head was the badger calling him a good boy, and the tightness of the collar around his neck. It had to be connected, didn’t it? It wasn’t exactly unheard of for someone to change species, of course–but usually it required close contact with that species, and didn’t happen this…suddenly. He did still have to piss, though aiming was a bit strange. The cock was slicker than usual, and didn’t feel at all right in his hand. He managed to not make too much of a mess, and then went to bed, where the lights were already out, and Chance was snoring. He didn’t manage to fall asleep for a while, running the encounter through his mind, and he recalled the card the badger had given him, that he’d put in his pocket. He got out of bed, found it, and took it into the hall to read it.

Officer Geoff Braddock. That was his name. It had a phone number too. Hopefully it would go away in a day or two–he’d heard that these sorts of things usually did. But if not…he’d have to see him again, and figure out what he’d have to do to fix this.

The changes didn’t disappear like Angus had hoped. The next morning, he still had his dog-like cock, and managed to keep it hidden from Chance through the day, keeping his underwear on, and running errands before they both had to go back to work the next day. Chance could tell he was distant, and knew something had happened between his husband and the cop the night before, but it was obvious Angus didn’t want to talk about it…and he was honestly relieved. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, and that made him feel a bit guilty, since it was all, really, his fault for getting drunk when he should have stayed sober. But was that really all? Angus flinched in the afternoon, when Chance just laid a hand on his shoulder, and while he apologized for the reaction and said he’d just surprised him…there did seem to be something else going on. He didn’t want to ask though–he’d just get defensive. He’d have to trust that Angus would tell him when he was ready.

Work was easier, for Angus, than just staying at home. Having something to do made it easier to forget about what was wrong with him…though he was slowly realizing it wasn’t just his cock that seemed to have changed, even if that was the most prominent shift. There were other, slighter differences, things that he couldn’t quite be convinced were really different at all. His ears were slightly more pointed. The hair on his body was slightly thicker, especially around his crotch, and instead of the deep brown it was usually, it had lightened, almost into a tan color. He knew he should tell Chance about it–but hesitated all the same. Was it out of shame? Maybe a little, but part of him also…enjoyed it, more and more, as he was growing used to it. He would take out the card he’d gotten from Geoff, think about calling…but he didn’t. He almost didn’t want to know more. He just wanted everything to go back to normal–but it became increasingly clear, as the week wore on, that normal wasn’t going to happen if he did nothing. He either had to tell Chance and see if he could get some treatment–which meant being honest about everything–or it meant going to the cop, and seeing if he would help him get back to normal…though he doubted, somehow, the officer would want to. He had, every much, liked how good a boy Angus had been, hadn’t he? He had been a very good boy…and part of him wanted to be a good boy again.

When it became clear that things were not getting better on his own, and with Chance becoming more obviously concerned about what was troubling him, Angus broke down and called Geoff on Wednesday, after he left work. The badger didn’t pick up, and he left a voice message, telling him that he needed to see him, and not giving him any details. An hour later, he got a text back from the number.

Need more? I had a feeling you’d give me a call.

Should he tell him what was happening? No, it would be better if the cop just thought he wanted sex. If he told him about the changes, he’d probably hold the reason behind it for ransom. So he led him on, telling him he wanted more, telling him he wanted to be a good boy too, for him. They agreed to meet the next day, after work. Angus told Chance he was going to get drinks with some coworkers, and might be out late. He…hated lying to him, but really he was sparing him, right? He could barely focus the next day at work, all he could think about was the badger, and that collar. It had to have been the collar. Maybe it had been worn by some other dog, and that was why it had affected him like this. In any case…he just had to know, but secretly, he was wondering if he also wanted something else the badger was offering–the chance to…feel that again. To feel like a good boy. To…be a good boy. He caught himself at his desk, panting and rubbing his cock through the front of his pants, remembering how the badger had tasted. Remembering how…Master had tasted. He pulled his hand away, disgusted at himself, trying to strengthen his resolve. He finished the day, and then he headed for the bar where Geoff had arranged for them to meet.

Police Dogs: Episode 1 (Part 2)

Was he really suggesting what Angus thought he was suggesting? It wasn’t a…terrible suggestion, he supposed, and Chance would probably understand, right? It was better than paying thousands of dollars in fees, and maybe even jail time–and losing his job in the process. “I…I can help you out with whatever you need, officer.”

“That’s just Sir, to you, mutt.”

“Yes sir.”

“Turn around, and get on your knees.”

Angus was thankful that Chance couldn’t see this, at least, given they were behind the car in the dark. In all honesty, Angus was usually the one who was the top in the bedroom, but something about this situation was actually turning him on a bit as well. He carefully got down on his knees, looking up at the badger now, and had to admit he was quite handsome. Muscular and thick, despite his somewhat short stature, and with a thick gut, broad chest, and muscular, furry arms. The cop gripped the flashlight in his snout, undid his fly, and let his cock–just as short and thick as the rest of him, poke out. “Well come on then, get to it–and if you can’t do the job, maybe we’ll see if that husband of yours can do better.”

Angus did the best he knew how to do, though he wasn’t exactly enjoying it–and he hoped that Chance wouldn’t get brave, suddenly, and decide to see what was going on back here–if he couldn’t hear anyway, through the still open from window. Occasionally, a car would fly past them, and he would tense, the badger giving him a smack or poking his claws into the back of his neck, to encourage him to focus. “Come on now, be a good boy–the faster you work, the less likely anyone is going to see you.”

So Angus focused, and found a rhythm, while the badger slid one of his hands into a pocket of his pants. He slipped one of his favorite toys into work with him, because he’d had a feeling, as he usually did, that he might get a chance to have some fun tonight–and this was turning out to be quite a bit of fun. The man was already eager, and plenty willing to obey–but he’d be a proper good boy in no time–and so would that cute husband of his, too.

Before Angus noticed anything at all, the badger bent over, wrapped a strap of leather around his neck, and secured it in the back. Angus tried to yank away, but…didn’t. Instead, he felt an odd sense of pleasure numbing his mind–not unlike being a bit too drunk, but also quite a bit different. “Yeah, you’re going to be a very good boy from now on, won’t you?”

The words “good boy” lit something up in Angus’s brain this time, that it hadn’t done before. A direct, hot ,erotic pleasure and ride at doing what his Master told him to do, and doing it well…but he shouldn’t be feeling that, should he? He focused on sucking the badger’s cock instead, hoping that when he was finished, he would take it off of him…but did he want it to come off, really? It felt kind of comfortable, actually…like it belonged around his neck, and it made him feel good to wear it, didn’t it? Showing it off, letting everyone know that…that he was owned? He felt his cock straining the front of his jeans, but with his wrists secured behind him, all he could do was thrust forward–that, and leak profusely into his underwear.

“Guess somebody likes being a good boy,” the badger said, “That make you feel good, mutt? Sucking your master’s cock?”

“Yes sir,” Angus said, still stoking.

The badger didn’t last long after that, and he filled Angus’s mouth with a load of cum, and told him one more time that he was a very good boy, and that pushed Angus over the edge. He felt his cum spill out into his underwear, soaking the front of his pants as he panted, licking his lips of the badger’s cum, feeling proud at having done a good job like a good boy should. He looked up at the badger looming over him. He…wanted more. Wanted to keep being a good boy for him.

“I figured you’d just need a little motivation,” the badger said, reached down, and unhooked the collar from around Angus’s neck. As soon as it came lose, that feeling of eager devotion melted away into a deep, horrific shame. Had he really just done that? Sucked off a police officer on the side of the road, and enjoyed it? The badger hauled him up to his feet, turned him around, and unlocked the cuffs from his wrists. “Now that you’ve sobered up a bit, you should be good to go, right?”

Angus nodded..

“I couldn’t hear you, boy,”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good–you have a nice mouth. Not sure what your arrangement is with that hubby of yours, but if you want to be my good boy some more, here–” he fished a card out of his pocket, and handed it down to Angus, who took it, and wishing he didn’t want it as much as he did.

Angus got back up, went around the car, and got back in. “Are…are we free to go?” Chance asked.

“Yeah–I took care of it.”

Chance didn’t want to ask, and Angus didn’t really feel like talking about it. He drove very carefully the rest of the way home, still feeling how wet the front of his slacks were slick with his own cum, and still tasting the badger’s on his breath. Could Chance tell? He didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to offer any details. They got home. Chance stumbled in first, and Angus followed behind him, heading right for the bedroom so he could strip out of his soiled clothes, while Chance went into the bathroom. Angus hadn’t cum that hard in…well, a very long time. He dropped his pants and then his underwear–and when he looked down, he had to muffle a cry of surprise.

Police Dogs: Episode 1 (Part 1)

If you’re supporting me with at least $5 over on Patreon, you already have access to the whole first episode of this story! You can check it out here.

“Are you sure you’re good to drive?”

“I had less to drink than you did.”

Chance couldn’t argue with that, he supposed, but it did make him feel like an idiot. Usually they were a bit better about this when they drove into the city to go to a club on the weekend, but that cute polar bear had kept buying him drinks, and he hadn’t wanted to seem rude, even if he was supposed to be the designated driver. “Sorry,” he said, leaning against the car.

“No worries, it’ll be fine. I got a coffee,” Angus said, holding up the to go cup he’d gotten from a 24 hour cafe they’d passed on the way, sloshing a little bit as he did.

“We should just get a taxi.”

“And then what, get towed tomorrow morning? It’ll be fine. I’ll go slow, and I got you, right?”

Mostly, Chance just wanted to crawl into bed, but it wasn’t really too far to home–just half an hour or so–and it wasn’t like they hadn’t driven it plenty of times before. “Alright, but promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Of course.”

Chance didn’t really need any help staying awake though, because Angus’s driving was a bit more…erratic than he would have liked it to be. Still, they made it out of the city without major incident–only running one red light–and then out onto the highway, which was mostly clear of traffic this late at night, or early in the morning, he supposed, depending on your perspective. They were only a few exits away from their turnoff, when they heard the flare of a siren behind them, and Angus cursed under his breath.

“What, were you speeding?”

“A…little? I just wanted to get there faster.”

“Fuck–well, let’s just hope he’s not an asshole.”

Angus nodded, and pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway, giving his bearded face a couple of slaps, before guzzling the rest of his coffee, and pulling his license out of his pocket and the registration out of the glove compartment, rolled down the window, and they waited. After a minute, there was a crunch of boot on gravel, and the officer appeared at the window–a badger, from the silhouette. That…wasn’t a good sign. Maybe it was stereotyping, but the badgers Angus had always dealt with in the past had been, stubborn, hardheaded little pieces of work. The other reason it didn’t bode particularly well was because there was no doubt he’d be able to smell the alcohol on their breath. “Evening fellas,” the badger said, “License and registration please.”

Angus handed over the documents, and the badger looked them over with his flashlight, before shining it in the car at them both. “Out having a nice time tonight?”

“We’re just coming home from a vacation, officer,” Chance said, quickly, and Angus cleared his throat.

“Oh?” the badger said, leaning in a little close. “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

“I…was speeding a bit. Just tired, and eager to get home.”

“That, and you were swerving for about a mile–having trouble staying in your lane?”

Had he been swerving that much? Angus didn’t really remember, but he also knew there was no good answer he could give, so he said nothing.

“Would you step out of the car, sir?”

Angus unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out of the car, trying to project confidence…but the jig was probably up, and they both knew it. The badger was a bit shorter than him, around five feet tall, but he projected an aura of authority that made Angus feel a little intimidated all the same. The badger ran him through several sobriety tests–seemingly just to humiliate him, as Angus knew he wasn’t passing a single one. The badger just seemed to enjoy watching him struggle, and when he finally made him blow into a breathalyzer, the reading of 0.13 just served to confirm what they all already knew.

Angus didn’t know what to say, as the badger shook his head. “That is quite a bit over the legal limit–why not have your friend drive?”

“My husband had more than I did.”

The badger just nodded, and smirked slightly. “Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to place you under arrest. When he sobers up, he can pick you up–though I’m going to have to have to car towed–he can’t legally drive it, after all, and that makes it an abandoned vehicle.”

Angus gulped, thinking about the fees and fines already stacking up, which they didn’t quite have to money to pay for. “Look, I…it’s only a couple more miles, I feel fine, please–just…just ticket me for the speeding, please…”

The look in the badger’s eye glistened a bit, and he reached for his handcuffs. “Turn around and face the car, hands behind your back.”

It had been a long shot, but worth a shot at least. With a sigh, he turned around, and the badger yanked his wrists around and cuffed them behind his back–but instead of leading him back to the cop car, the badger, instead, gave him a pat down. A rather…intimate pat down.

“You know, you and your husband aren’t bad looking, for humans, I suppose. Not really my usual type, honestly.” The badger kneaded the sides of Angus’s gut, and then he came in close, pressing his bulge against his ass, reaching around with one clawed hand and squeezing his cock through the jeans he was wearing. “I could be convinced to look the other way, I suppose, make sure the two of you get home safely, tonight, if you could help me out a little bit like a good boy.”

Taming the Beast (Part 9)

The door behind him clicked and opened, and Mark stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Jacob managed to pry himself away from the trough long enough to snarl and look at him, but then the beast forced him back down into the slop. “Now now, Jacob–don’t fret. You’ll be safe here, just like all of my other pets down here. You’ll meet them all eventually…well, maybe you will. It depends on how long you last, really, in there. After all, Beastie has met most of them already, haven’t you?”

He felt a grunt come out of his mouth, and sensed it was something affirmative. Mark stepped closer, and Jacob could…smell him. Had he smelt that…good before? He was wearing different clothes than he usually did, they were soaked with cum, with…so many different kinds, but mostly his own, and Jacob felt his…or rather, their cock hardening. Mark ran his hands over Jacob’s wide ass, feeling the crisp briefs he had on, and then tugged them down, giving him access to his crack, which he ran his own cock along, feeling Jacob’s body squirm in excitement.

“I must say, when I saw what you could do, back in the hospital, I knew I had to have you, but I never would have imagined you could be such a delight. Just my type–once you’re properly trained, I might even let you wander the house–just tell everyone you’re my pet hog, if anyone asks, not that anyone will, of course.”

“H-How?” Jacob managed to force out through a mouthful of food.

“How? How did I do it? It was easy–you know how. You’re weak. The beast was always the strongest part of you, you were just holding it back. I’ve set it free, and given it exactly what it has always wanted–the perfect life for a little beastie like him.”

Jacob tried to object, tried to talk to the beast in control of him, but Mark forced his cock into him then, and everything else…disappeared for a while. No–he disappeared for a while, like when he was hypnotized, and he didn’t resurface for…well, he didn’t know how long, exactly, but when he woke up later, the trough was empty, licked nearly clean, and his gut…ached. Ached, and it was so big–bigger than it had ever been before this, and from the smell of cum in the room, he’d just jacked off…but the cum smelled different than usual. It was hard to see, around the huge gut, but he managed to get a peek at it, and saw that it wasn’t…human anymore. So much of him wasn’t human anymore. He was a freak, an animal. He felt something chaffing his neck, and felt a steel collar there, padlocked on, and he wanted to break it, wanted to tear it to shreds, but the beast just…laughed at him. A hyena like laugh in his mind, and he started to recede again, falling back into the darkness of himself.

It was true, wasn’t it. He was weak. He’d always been the weakest. But this wasn’t freedom. He screamed at the beast, telling him he thought this was freedom, but he was nothing. Just a pet, a slave, some sexual freak. All he received back was a silence, and then a pressure, a force driving him back down into the dark, and he was gone again. The beast felt him recede, and laid back on the floor of his room.

The man was right, he supposed. He was nothing more than a pet, really. No better than he’d been with Bacanal, no better than he’d been when locked away by the man. He could get free…maybe, but he was so used to gluttony, sloth and lust now, that it was hard to imagine the fierce forms it had taken back in the hospital. What did it matter, in the end? He was a pet, but he was satisfied. He was a sex freak, but he’d never experienced pleasure like this before. It was slavery, but it you got everything you wanted, wasn’t that just as good as freedom, in a way? The door clicked, and swung open. Beastie crawled through it, and saw Cumrag there in the room, tied up, ass up, and he went over and shoved his snout into the man’s hole and licked. He liked the taste of this one. Liked how he moaned when Beastie fucked him, liked how eager he was for attention, and especially liked how rough he could be with him.

Months passed by. Jacob surfaced less and less, and every time he did, there was less of him that came back from the darkness. Without context, he couldn’t really distinguish between himself in the beast…and by the time he realized the beast’s mind was actually absorbing him, it was too late for him to even consider what it might mean to resist. Mark thought about intervening, but it would have been a substantial amount of work…and really, what good was he to anyone? Beastie was truly the better half–best to just do away with what wasn’t necessary. Beastie kept growing, helped by his constant, massive meals, and after six months he was nearly eight feet tall, and weighed close to a ton. Mark had been forced to renovate two of the other rooms into one sizable pigpen, with a mud hole which he and his pet enjoyed fucking in regularly. After a year, Beastie couldn’t even recall a time when he hadn’t lived with his master, as his pet. It was simply who he was–and he couldn’t imagine any life he could want more than this one.

Taming the Beast (Part 8)

Jacob didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t feel like he was getting better, certainly…but he did trust Mark, didn’t he? After all, he never would have gotten out of the hospital at all, if it hadn’t been for his help, and if Mark thought he was a danger to anyone at all, he knew that he would never let him hurt someone else again. He decided to do as he suggested, and trust that he would pull his way out of the slump soon, and things would become a bit more normal…but were things becoming normal, or was he just getting used to how filthy his life had become? Men kept coming around to see him, men he couldn’t even remember calling, and the sex he had with them was getting…stranger. He fucked them, always, but also took to soaking them down in his piss, and covering them in his cum, making sure that when they left, they smelled like him…like his property, like his mates.

Then, he went into another rage at work, and this time went too far–they fired him on the spot, and he was just…so frustrated, so angry, and he didn’t feel like he had anywhere to put it…so he ate. He ate, and he fucked, and he drank, and he didn’t rest for days. The next appointment with Mark blew past without him even thinking about it, he just didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to exist. It was two days after that, when Mark arrived at his door…and he was so relieved to see him, that he fell to his knees and sobbed. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore. He couldn’t trust himself, he’d given the beast too much control because…because he was weak. So weak. That’s what Mark told him, that he’d spent so long with the beast out, that he didn’t have the capacity to contain him anymore. Jacob didn’t want to believe it, it couldn’t be true…but when Mark hauled him up and dragged him into the bathroom to look at himself–really look at himself, he was terrified.

It wasn’t his face in the mirror. Or, it was kind of his face, but it was…twisted and bestial, with a snout pushing out around his mouth and nose, two tusks pushing out from his lower jaw, the hair on his head and beard looking more like boar bristle than human hair. He begged Mark to take him back to the hospital, to take him somewhere where he would be safe…but Mark told him he thought the hospital would be the worst possible thing for them both. The beast would panic. He would fight, and turn vicious, and most likely, Jacob in his weakened state wouldn’t be able to regain control, and in the end, he’d just be locked up in a cage for the rest of his life, in a ultramax prison with the rest of the villains of the world. But he wasn’t a villain, right? No–he just needed some time to get back on his feet…but he did need to be supervised. Mark graciously offered him a room down in the basement of his house, and Jacob was so thankful he didn’t think twice. So thankful in fact, that he sucked the doctor’s cock, right there in his apartment. It was just…the right thing to do. To show how much he respected him. To show him how important he was. Some time under the doctor’s direct care was just what he needed. He left with him, not wanting to wait in case the beast resisted, and they got to Mark’s home shortly before dark. They went downstairs and into a large, bare room with several doors on each wall. Mark ushered him into one of them, and while it wasn’t much larger than the room he’d had in the hospital, he should be appreciative, shouldn’t he?

Mark shut the door behind him, and told him he would be back soon with some food for him, and Jacob couldn’t shake the sense of unease he was feeling. The beast had hated being stuck in the hospital, and he’d been certain it would fight this too. But it hadn’t. If anything, he felt better now than he had in his apartment. Safer. Like everything was working out exactly like he thought it should…except it wasn’t. He had none of his things, not even a change of clothes or a toothbrush–not that he’d been using one lately. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going. He looked around, but there wasn’t a phone anywhere, or a TV…or really anything. There wasn’t even a bed, or a window, just some lights inset in the wall behind glass or plastic. It was a cell. He was in a cell.

He went to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. He was locked in here–he’d let himself get trapped in here, like an idiot! Still, the door was nothing compared to what the beast was capable of, right? He focused, trying to reach for it, trying to harness it…but while it was there, it was calm. No–more than calm, it was relaxed, and watching him panic, and enjoying this. It wanted to be here.

There was a loud thunk from the long wall of the cell, and the bottom foot or so angled out, revealing a shallow trough running the entire length. A moment later, slop slid down into, steaming slightly, and Jacob felt his gut rumble, and the beast licked its chops. No–no, he licked his lips, right? Jacob was still trying to understand what was happening to him in his mind, as his body lowered itself down onto his hands and knees and crawled over to the trough, shoving his short snout into it and devouring as much of it as he could, as quickly as he could, while it was still warm and delicious.

Taming the Beast (Part 7)

The whole rest of the week, Jacob noticed that he was feeling a bit…strange. Well, strange wasn’t really the best way to describe it–what he was mostly feeling, was hungry. Hungrier than he could really ever remember being in the past, in fact. His meals doubled in size, much to his dismay, but whenever he tried to exert a bit of self-control, it would crumble by the time he ate next, and he’d end up gorging himself until he could barely move. It became a problem at work especially, being around food all the time. He would sneak snacks right off the grill or out of the fryer, and afterwards, started taking home anything that was leftover and would usually be thrown out, and stuffing himself with it before going to bed for the night.

As unnerving as it was, he hesitated bringing it up with Mark. He was just so happy being out of the hospital, and he knew that at the first sign of a setback, he could be readmitted immediately. So he did his best to pretend like nothing was going on at all, as he watched his weight steadily creep upward on the scale he kept in the bathroom, until in a fit of shame and panic he threw it out and went on a weekend long binge, cleaning out his cupboards and fridge, stopping only to masturbate every few hours–though he found it easy enough to do both things at the same time. That was the final straw. He had to talk to Mark about this, even if it meant going back to the hospital. This had to be something to do with the beast–there was no other explanation that he could think of for these sudden urges.

At their next session, before Mark hypnotized him, Jacob told him about what had been happening to him. About the binging, and the fact that he seemed to be masturbating more and more often. Mark was troubled by the new developments, and they talked about it for a while, trying, together, to determine whether what was happening posed a danger to him, or to anyone else. In the end, Mark left the decision up to Jacob, if he wanted to go back to the hospital or not–and Jacob told him this was something he’d rather deal with himself. It felt so good being back out in the world, and he wasn’t ready to go back to being locked up again, not until he felt like he couldn’t handle this himself. Mark told him that he would have a word with the beast, and see if he could understand what this sudden shift in behavior might mean. He seemed to be under for…a very long time. Several hours, at least, and when he came too again, Mark was sitting across from him, though his face was rather grave.

“Was…was everything alright?” Jacob asked him, sitting up from the couch where he’d been lying down.

“Yes, I mean, these compulsions of yours do seem to be related to the beast, but…well, I can’t know anything without further observation. I think the best thing you can do is try to resist them as best you can. Keep track if possible–how often you binge, how often you masturbate, anything else that sticks out to you as odd. We’ll try to get a baseline for the behavior, and see if it gets worse, alright?”

Jacob did his best for a few days, but he kept forgetting about keeping a journal, and the whole exercise just…didn’t interest him much at all. Work was the same. Over the next few weeks, he found himself getting aggravated at his boss and coworkers, and would on occasion break out into a sudden rage that would catch him off guard. He didn’t do any real harm, aside from a couple of broken dishes, but the fact that it kept happening…it terrified him. Was he really ready to be out here with people? He found himself wondering about every tic and every thought, and the constant self-awareness was exhausting. He started oscillating between days where he would try to constantly check himself, and days where he would give up and just indulge in…everything. He would stuff himself, drink excessively, masturbate over and over, miss work, and even fuck on occasion. Men–always men, something he had never done before in his life, but he loved it, and the rougher he got with them, the harder he came–and most of them came back for seconds.

It was Mark who brought up his hygiene one session, awkwardly, like he’d been hoping Jacob would mention it finally, without him having to bear the burden of broaching it. Without having to humiliate Jacob with the knowledge that he hadn’t even noticed how dirty he was becoming. He hadn’t trimmed his beard in weeks at that point, and it was coming in thick–much thicker than he could remember it looking the last time he’d tried growing one out. The same went for his hair, which was quite long, as well as the hair on the rest of his body, which was filling in thicker than he knew it should over his now substantial gut. Looking down at himself, and paying attention to it, he realized that he couldn’t clearly recall the last time he’d taken a shower, and he also couldn’t remember when he’d last changed his clothes. He’d been wearing the same outfit for work without washing it for over a week, which no one had complained about out of fear it might set one of his rages off, and he hadn’t changed the underwear beneath that in…a month? More? It was wet, at the moment, since he’d jacked off before coming over, but he could smell cum…so much cum. They were saturated, as was the undershirt he was wearing. He felt ashamed of himself, ashamed that he was losing so much control, so quickly, without even realizing it in the moment. He couldn’t trust himself, he couldn’t be trusted with himself, but he also couldn’t bear the thought of going back to that hospital either…though he knew Mark was going to call for it.

But to his surprise, Mark didn’t. In fact, he told Jacob that he thought he’d been improving, and after the session he seemed really pleased with how Jacob was progressing. These new behaviors were a surprise, sure, and might be difficult to adjust to, but he was going to have to deal with the fact that the beast inside him was, from now on, most likely going to be a more immediate presence in his life. The best thing he could do, in Mark’s opinion, was keep it satisfied, and likely, in a few more weeks, they’d manage to reach a new equilibrium. It might not be what Jacob wanted, necessarily, but this was most likely the course his power was going to develop. Fighting it would likely only make it worse.

Taming the Beast (Part 6)

The good thing about Cumrag, was that he had the stamina and the vitality to take pretty much anyone Mark brought down here–and Mark had a feeling this beast was going to be a rough fucker. He took one look at the beast standing in the central room, and had a feeling he knew what his Master wanted from him…and he was looking forward to it. He hadn’t been used in weeks now, and he hated it. Hated how lonely it could be down here, just jacking off, fantasizing about his Master using him–needing him–though why anyone would need a cumrag like him was beyond his limited comprehension. “What do you need, Master?”

“Get in the sling cumrag, and don’t talk. Your voice is grating.” Cumrag nodded, and hopped up into the sling, cape hanging under him, and Mark secured his legs up in the holsters, before stepping to one side and displaying him for the beast. “I know you were used by other patrons, on occasion, but please–have your way with the thing. I assure you–it can take anything you want to give, it’s more resilient than it seems, physically at least.”

The beast didn’t hesitate. While it had often serviced people in the bar, it had only rarely gotten the opportunity to fuck…and the few times it had, had been incredibly enjoyable. He assumed that the doctor was telling the truth, and rammed his cock in roughly, not bothering to worry about Cumrag’s feelings, and while he had to muffle a gasp of surprise, his hole opened easy and wide. In less than a minute, the beast was gripping Cumdump’s thighs, slamming his massive cock in up the the hilt, listening to the sloppy sounds of the one-time-hero’s now totally loose hole, the cumrag’s eyes rolling back in his head, helplessly jacking off, so thrilled to be used again, even if it wasn’t his master using him.

“Just think–this hole could be yours at any time, whenever you desire it,” Mark said, coming close to the beast, stroking his burly, hairy arm, leaning in to sniff at his foul musk. “You could indulge your every base desire, explore all of the pleasures of the Earth, right here. His isn’t the only hole I possess either. There are others, and if you please me, you can fuck as much as you want, my handsome beast,” He turned the beast’s muzzle to him, stood on his toes, and licked at his snout, the beast extending his tongue and kissing him as best he could, breath hot and panting as he fucked harder, getting closer and closer to the edge. “You’re have no idea what you’re capable of, you have no idea what you could become. I can help you–let me help you. Let me free you from the man’s shackles, and live here, as my beast, indulging in every profane desire you can imagine. Be mine, and I’ll give you pleasures you have never thought possible.”

The beast came soon after, letting loose with something between a grunt, growl and a roar, unloading a massive load of cum deep into the hero’s hole, and the orgasm was nothing like he’d felt before, when he’d been with Bacanal. Back then, everything had felt good, all the time–but this was a pleasure unlike anything the beast had experienced before, and it lasted for ages. He ended up sitting on the ground while Mark rubbed and pet him, pulling out his own cock, and coaxing it into the beast’s mouth. After all, it was only fair, wasn’t it, that if the beast got to use one of Master’s holes, that he allow master to use his hole as well. It was the price of his freedom down here–that when Master wanted him, he would have him as well, just like he had all of his other Supers down here.

Was it worth it? The beast, in the end, was convinced. After all, it was going to be owned one way or another, and the idea of ownership Jacob had for him was somehow more humiliating–using his strength ang his speed, but never allowing the beast a moment of gratification or pleasure…no, what the doctor was offering, what master was offering, was far better. They went back upstairs together, and Mark put the beast away in Jacob’s mind again, watching the bestial form fade away, and return to Jacob’s usual body. Only then, did he breathe a sigh of relief, and relax. The hard part was over now–he had his inside man. Everything else would be much, much simpler now. He brought Jacob back from his deep dream, but didn’t wake him yet–no they had quite a bit that they needed to discuss. A while later, Jacob woke up feeling refreshed…and famished. Mark offered him dinner, and Jacob was more than happy to take him up on the offer, though he admitted afterward that he made a bit of a pig of himself, eating as much as he did. Still, Mark hadn’t minded in the least–he’d just kept piling Jacob’s plate higher and higher, watching, cock half hard, already excited to watch the rest of his plan fall into place.

Taming the Beast (Part 5)

The beast looked around the room, perhaps a bit confused. It was, after all, the first time Mark had woken it outside of the hospital, so it was likely wondering where, exactly, it was. “This is my home,” Mark said, “The prison where you were has decided that Jacob is…less of a risk, and allowed him to leave.”

The beast gave a few snorts, almost like laughter, and then leered at Mark.

“Remember, you would have never gotten out of there without my help, and if you harm me, there are much worse prisons where they could place you. No–I have something else I would like to…suggest instead,” Mark said. “After all, I know what you want. You want to be free–and you want all of the earthly pleasure you had before, isn’t that right? Most of all though, I know that you do not like being subservient to Jacob.”

The beast snorted again.

“I would offer you something else, other than the occasional moment of freedom. I can give you a life here, with me, one that I think you will enjoy. After all, you liked your life before, didn’t you? In the bar?”

They had discussed it before, but the beast had always been…on the fence, for reasons Mark could understand. The beast had traded complete subordination to Jacob’s ego for a different kind of enslavement, to a very different master. It was reluctant to admit it, but Mark could sense the truth–the beast had liked it, very much. The pleasure, the gluttony, the revelry, the sex. It hadn’t mattered that the beast obeyed a master, so long as it was satisfied. The pleasure made the collar bearable. But more than that–the beast might long for freedom, but it had never known it–it had only ever existed under someone else’s control–and Mark wasn’t about to give it a chance to know any better any time soon, before it knew what it could be.

The beast nodded, hesitantly. It knew Mark wanted something–but Mark had been upfront about that. He had discussed it somewhat, that the beast was…wasted here. That it was meant for something more, and Mark could help it understand its true purpose.

Mark stood up, and crossed the short distance to the beast, enjoying the musk rolling off the thing’s hide. That had been a pleasant surprise as well–Mark had a certain…delight in that. He ran his hands over the beast’s belly, gentle circles, waiting until it relaxed under his hands, and then worked lower, both hands stroking its cock. “You can have that life again. All the food you could want, all the drink. Holes to fuck and dominate. But you can’t do that outside of here–they will find you, and trap you in another cage…and you can’t do it with him, so long as Jacob holds any sway over your body. No–we will have to deal with him, seal him away like he sealed you away, all those years. He deserves that, don’t you think?”

The beast snorted its approval, but whether or not it was listening to what Mark was saying wasn’t clear. It could have simply been enjoying the hand job–but it certainly wasn’t resisting.

“After all, we can both agree that you are the strong one. You’re the one who should be in charge, the one whose needs are paramount. But you won’t be able to do it without me, and if you want my help, then you are going to have to do as I say.”

The beast hesitated, and Mark stepped back.

“You don’t have to decide right now. But downstairs, I can give you a taste of the life I can offer you. Follow me.”

The beast heaved himself up from the sofa, and followed Mark around the corner and down a hallway, to a locked basement door. It was a tight squeeze down the staircase for the sizable animal, but at the base, it opened up into a open area outfitted as a sex dungeon–slings, paddles, bondage racks. Around the walls of the room were several doors, all of them locked as well. Mark went to one of them opened the door, “Hey Cumrag! Get out here–I have someone for you to entertain.”

After a couple of moments, a man stumbled out of the room, wearing nothing other than a cape around his shoulders–or at least, something that had been a cape at one time. Cumrag was one of Mark’s earliest acquisition from the hospital–a strongman Super with a rather weak will, who had been mind controlled and turned to a life of crime for a few years until he was freed. He’d struggled a lot at the hospital in Mark’s care–he didn’t know how to regain his moral center, and felt like he couldn’t trust himself. Mark agreed. Slowly, he’d worn him down, convinced him that everything that had happened was all because he was too weak to know better–that if anything, it had been good for him to be controlled by someone with some sense, good to keep his power away from the world, where he could hurt someone. He’d needed a new purpose in life, a new direction, and so Mark had suggested he help him out around the house, degrading him more and more until he, at last, accepted he was little more than an object. A cumrag. He’d been without a shower for years, at this point, and his skin and hair was caked with layers and layers of cum. The cape he still wore was rigid at this point, and when he was in storage down here, all Cumrag knew to do anymore was masturbate into his cape, his life as a hero forgotten forever–until his services were needed.