Interactive: Three Word Difference (Part 12)

Sorry for the delay on this, Christmas week turned out to be a lot busier than I was planning.

WARNING: SCAT


Skip could do nothing as the genie twisted Jason’s words yet again:

“Please, I just wish we would get fuckin’ dumber!”

“God fuckin’ damnit! Shut yer trap!” Skip said again, feeling a slight sense of deja vu as it happened, looked over at the genie, who snapped his fingers, and Skip could almost feel the thoughts in his head slow down to a crawl. “Fuck…I…Fuckin’ feels so…so fuckin’ good,” Skip said, and gave a great guffaw as he pounded deeper into his son’s hole, “Don’t it feel good boy?”

“Fuck, I…I didn’t mean tah, why, I…why’s it so hard tah think?” Jason said, his hole finally adjusting a bit to his daddy’s cock, and the pleasure started to overwhelm him a bit as well. “Fuck…feels…better Daddy, feels good havin’ ya inside me.”

Skip didn’t reply, he didn’t have the mental processing power to fuck and talk at the same time. He was just grunting and snorting behind him, driving in faster and harder until he exploded inside his boy’s guts, an even larger load than the one he’d shot in the restroom just a few minutes before this…but had he even been there really? Everything seemed like a dream to him all of a sudden, and his simpler mind couldn’t really comprehend what was happening to him. He pulled his cock free of his boy’s hole, suddering a bit, and whirled on the genie where he floating in the corner of the filthy bedroom, and stomped over to him. “I might not be the smartest fucker, but I can tell when someone’s fuckin’ with me. What the fuck are ya doin’? Yer messin’ with the shit we say, ain’t ya?”

“I can assure you, Skip, that I am fully within the bounds of the contract of my service to you, that you consented to when you made your first wish with me.”

“Contract? What fuckin’ contract?”

The genie waved in the air, and a thick document appeared in his hands, written on rather ancient parchment. He handed it to Skip, who stared at it for a few moments, and shook his head. “I can’t read fuckin Arab or whatever this is!”

“Oh, I gave you a copy in English, Skip,” the genie said.

Skip stared at it again, and realized that his son’s wish had made him illiterate on top of everything else. He threw the document in the genie’s face, who made it disappear again before it got anywhere close to him. “Fuck you, I want ya tah change us back!”

“I only accept requests in the form of a wish,” the genie said, shrugging and smiling at Skip, who scowled at him, and turned back to where his son was lying on the bed, sweaty, fat stinking, trying to sort his own thoughts out. 

“Come on son, we gotta figure this out. If we put our heads together, we can figure out a wish that’ll fix this.”

Skip concentrated–or at least he tried to concentrate. His face turned a bit red, and just as a thought was coming to him, a loud fart escaped his ass, and distracted him. Jason thought that was a hoot, and laughed on the bed, his dad cracking a grin as he did. “Oh ya liked that, huh? Ya like yer dad’s smelly farts?”

“Fuck no Pa! Yers are the worst!”

Skip lifted a leg, gave it a shake, and let another one loose in Jason’s direction, before climbing up on his boy, already feeling a bit horny again, his worries about the genie pushed to the back of his mind where they disappeared.

“Fuck Pa! Git offa me,” Jason said, “I can’t breathe with yer stink in the damn air everywhere.”

“Hell boy, wish the stink a mah farts made ya as horny as hell.”

Too late, he realized he’d just made a wish. The genie twisted things around, and what came out the second time chilled Skip to the bone:

“Hell boy, wish the stink a mah farts made ya hungry as hell fer shit.”

Skip saw the swirl of color in his son’s eyes, and Jason liked his lips, his stomach growling. “Fuck Pa…ya…ya got a load fer yer toilet boy yet? Sure smells like ya do.”

Skip shook his head, and looked over at the genie, “Ya fucker! What the fuck?”

“Come on Pa, yer boy’s so damn hungry, feed me yer shit.”

“Fuck no, git a hold a yerself, that ain’t…I mean, we’re dirty fellas, but that’s just gross.”

“I wish Pa loved feedin’ me shit,” Jason said, as Skip looked at him in horror, and it only got worse after the genie twisted it:

“I wish Pa loved feedin’ on shit with me.”

Skip felt his stomach give a great big growl, and the smell of his farts on the air was…enticing. “Fuck…fuck, you sick son of a bitch…”

“Come on Pa, feed yer dirty fuckin’ pig boy.”

Unable to stop himself, Skip got on the bed, squatting over his son’s face, and bore down, licking his own lips as he did, smelling his own shit, hoping his boy saved him some…but then, his boy loved feeding him too…didn’t he? Yeah, of course he did. Why wouldn’t he?

***

The next morning, they awoke to the sound of an alarm on one of their phones, still in the pocket of their pants, and Skip and Jason untangled their filthy bodies from one another, still in the bed. Shit was…everywhere, but then, when wasn’t it, when they got down to business? “Fuck boy, we’re gonna be late fer fuckin’ work,” Skip said, checking the clock on his phone. Gotta…gotta make ourselves a least a bit…presentable…”

Skip went into the bathroom to wipe some of the worst shit off his face, and Jason rolled out of bed, licking the dried shit off his lips. “Fuck Pa, I don’t wanna go tah work.”

“Gotta pay the bills son, come on.”

The genie was still there in the corner of the room, and that was when Jason had the idea. A great idea. An idea that could fix everything, right?”

“I wish we got paid just tah eat shit.”

The genie’s smile grew wider than Jason had ever seen it:

“I wish we got paid just tah eat trucker’s shit ‘n piss.”

Skip didn’t hear his son’s wish over the running tap, and after they threw on some clothes, they got in the truck, and headed down the interstate to a little truckstop owned by a friend of Skips–one who understood the special sort of needs a father and son like this could have. There, they took up their place in the back of the trucker’s showers, ready to take whatever the trucker’s passing by wanted to give them–piss, shit, cum–they had no limits. They were infamous really, and they truckstop was always busy with all sorts of nasty fuckers off the interstates, but Skip and Jason were happy. They had a job perfect for a couple of illiterate, filthy shit-scarfing rednecks like them, and the genie left them there, certain they would manage well enough on their own from here on out.

Where did the genie go next? We’ll have to find out some other time–but needless to say, be careful what you wish for.

Interactive: Three Word Difference (Part 11)

“I wish we were big, filthy rednecks!” Skip said, full of enthusiasm, but he realized, a moment after the words came out of his mouth, that they were not quite the words he had meant to say. “Wait, what? I–”

It was too late to take anything back though–the genie snapped his fingers, and both Skip and Jason shuddered as the changes swept through them, and both of them began to grow. Taller, first–neither of them had been very tall to begin with, Jason coming to around five foot ten, and Skip a couple inches shorter than that. Their bones swelled, and both of them were soon pushing six foot three, and the rest of their bodies were growing as well. Thick with muscle first, but it wasn’t long before a layer of fat started to cover that up. It was more pronounced on Skip, who was older. He ended up with a sizable beer gut hanging out over his waist, making him lean back a bit just to keep it well balanced. Jason had a gut of his own, but broader shoulders and hips to carry it a bit better, giving him the general shape of a barrel. 

The filth came next. Their uniforms went from relatively clean to looking like they hadn’t been washed in weeks–the fronts of both were covered in food stains, oil, dirt, grime, and who knew what else from all of their tasks around campus. Skip caught a whiff of himself and gagged a bit, before he found himself growing more accustomed to it. He swung around and looked at himself in the mirror over the sink, at the hair growing down the back of his head (he’d had a mullet ever since high school after all, and Skip wasn’t really one to change something that worked), the yellowed, crooked teeth (he’d never taken good care of them after all, and all the cigarettes he smoked had, well, his boy didn’t seem to mind the taste of his mouth at least) and the scraggly beard around the rest of his face (why cut it? It just grew back anyway!). He shook his head, pushing the rationalizations away as best he could, and looked over at his son, sweaty, his own bearded face covered with acne, smelling just about as rank as his father did in all honesty. “Fuck Pa, what the fuckin’ hell happened tah us?” Jason asked, looking down at himself, running his big, grimy hands over the front of his soiled uniform, “Why the hell’d ya make us a couple a filthy rednecks?”

“I didn’t, I mean, it ain’t what I wanted tah wish fer!” he said, and turned to the genie, “Ya’ve been fuckin’ with me, haven’t ya? Messin’ with what I was tryin’ ta say!”

The genie just shrugged, “My powers allow me a small amount of leeway, to ensure that my Master’s wishes are fulfilled in ways that are most amenable to reality, and to me.”

“Ya fuckin’ piece a shit, change us back right the fuck now!”

The genie smirked, “Would you care to phrase that as a wish, Master?”

Skip scowled at him, not really willing to risk it. He didn’t know how the genie was messing with him exactly, and so he couldn’t try and reverse this.

“Pa, who ya talkin’ to?” Jason asked, and Skip looked at his boy, wide eyed and a bit terrified, obviously, to see his father talking to air.

“Fuck, would ya just show ‘em?” Skip said, and the genie nodded, and appeared for Jason as well, who’s jaw just about dropped to the floor. “That’s…that’s how ya been doin’ it? There’s a fuckin’ genie! Fuck you, you…you fuck!”

“Now son, calm down,” Skip said, “We gotta think about this.”

“Fuck you! Genie, I fuckin’ wish this fucker had never run intah me!”

The genie smiled, and Jason felt the odd sensation of time running backwards, his words knitting themselves together into new patterns, and what came out instead was:

“I fuckin’ wish this fucker would always piss intah me.”

“As you wish, Master,” the genie said, and snapped his fingers, both of their eyes clouding over for a moment.

“Get down on yer knees son, Daddy’s gotta piss after ya sucked the cum outta me,” he said, and Jason found himself unable to resist. He got down, took his Pa’s cock in his mouth, and Skip pissed right down Jason’s throat, while the genie just laughed and smiled at them both. When Skip was finished, Jason sprang back up, stormed over at the genie, tried to punch him, but his fist went right through him.

“Now now, Master, I can only grant you what you desire,” the genie said, and Jason punched at him again. 

“Fuck you, ya fuckin’, if I could hit ya, I’d…fuckin’ hell!”

“Jason! Calm down!” Skip said, but it was clear Jason wasn’t going to calm down anytime soon.

“I wish I was back tah normal!” Jason shouted at the genie, but again, the words twisted, and out came:

“I wish we was back home fuckin’!”

“As you wish, Master,” the genie said, and with a snap, the smoke engulfed them both, and when it cleared a moment later, they weren’t in the bathroom anymore–they were home. Or rather, they were in the single wide trailer the two of them now called home. The place was a sty, with dirty laundry, empty take out bags and containers, and beer cans strewn about everywhere. They were in the bedroom, Jason on the bed, naked, his father behind him, and without any warning, Skip found his cock thrust into his son’s hole, making Jason holler in pain.

“Fuckin’ shut up, you dumb fuckin’ shithead!” Skip shouted at him, unable to stop his body from forcing his cock in deeper. 

“Fuck it fuckin’ hurts! Stop!”

“I can’t stop boy! It’s what ya fuckin’ wished for!”

“But it fuckin’ hurts!”

“Take it like a fuckin’ man, I’ll be done in a few minutes.”

Jason started blubbering a bit, and even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good, he said, “Please, I just wish you would stop fuckin’ me!”

“God fuckin’ damnit! Shut yer damn trap!” Skip said, but it was too late–the genie was already warping his next wish, and giving Jason exactly what he asked for next.


Use the poll below to vote for the final chapter! You get two choices like usual. Patrons can access their bonus poll over here.

Interactive: Three Word Difference (Part 10)

Time flowed forward again, and Skip’s wish came out a bit differently this time around:

“I wish you were working with me in maintenance. That way, I could use this mouth whenever I wanted!”

The genie smirked, snapped his fingers, and Jason was enveloped in a cloud of swirling mist. The young man stood up, interrupted in his sucking for the moment, as he coughed and gagged, trying to get the sickly smoke away from him. It dissipated after a few moments, leaving him feeling dizzy and discombobulated. He was looking at…at Skip there, leaning against the counter, but he didn’t know how he knew the older man’s name all of a sudden.

Like magic, an answer appeared in his mind. He knew Skip because they worked together, of course. They were both in the university’s maintenance department, and would regularly meet up on the job so Jason could suck Skip off. His mind repeated all of this at him like it was perfectly normal, and Jason had to fight it. He looked in the mirror, and with a dull horror, saw that his preppy clothes had disappeared–he was wearing the same work uniform as Skip was. The same work uniform they both wore everyday…because what else would be be wearing, anyway?

“No–no, this isn’t right, get me the fuck out of this shit!” Jason said, and started pulling at the front of his shirt, but the genie made it impossible for him to remove his uniform for the moment, enjoying watching the young man struggle with his impossible buttons. “I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this shit to me, but I’m not some fucking handyman! I’m a fucking college student!”

Skip laughed. “Maybe you were, but not for long. I wish you were a high school dropout.”

The genie made a few quick edits:

“I wish you were my son, who’s a high school dropout.”

Jason shook his head, but he could already feel it, his memories of college disappearing from his head, along with a good amount of his intelligence. “No dad, don’t…I don’t wanna be dumb! I wanna go to college again!”

“Shut up you stupid fucker. I wish the only thing you cared about was pleasing my cock.”

Or rather, once the genie was finished with it:

“I wish the only thing you cared about was pleasing my thick, chessy, uncut cock.”

Jason shook his head, but with a snap of his fingers, the genie invaded the young man’s mind once more, his eyes turning the same shifting shades as the genie’s smoke, and he took a couple steps forward again. Fuck, why had he stopped sucking his dad’s cock anyway? It was always a treat when they finished a job up quick, because his dad would give him some time to suck him off before going back to the maintenance office. He got back down on his knees, licking his lips, and sucked his dad’s cock back into his mouth, enjoying how the thick shaft stretched his jaw. He cleaned under Skip’s thick foreskin and found some cheese he hadn’t eaten earlier and swallowed it down with a moan, shoving one had down the front of his work pants to start jack himself off as well.

“Yeah, that’s better, isn’t it son? No need to worry about anything complicated anymore, you just let your daddy handle all of that stuff from now on. After all, I’m the smartest one in the family now–the one who managed to graduate from high school at least! The only way you got this job is because I work here–you’re too stupid to handle it without me, you know that right?”

Jason nodded in agreement, and Skip noticed, up close, how much the young man resembled him now. It was a bit…uncanny actually, but in all honesty, it made the whole scene so much hotter. He was getting close to blowing a load down his son’s throat at this point, and it was clear that Jason was hungry for it. With a moan, Skip unloaded down Jason’s throat, his boy swallowing all of it eagerly, and licking his lips afterwards. “Fuck dad, I love your fuckin’ cock so much…”

“Yeah, you’re as much a perverted fuck as I am,” Skip said, and helped Jesse up, sizing up his boy a bit more, now that the excitement was ebbing away a bit. He was a good looking young man in a lot of ways, but he was a little too skinny for Skip’s taste. He liked guys with a bit more muscle on them, in all honesty. It was an easy fix, of course. “I wish you were big and muscular,” he said.

The genie smiled, and decided that Skip’s wish could use a little more imagination.


Here’s the next poll! You can find the patron only poll over here as well.

Interactive: Three Word Difference (Part 5)

The genie opened a portal, taking one last look at Adam and Rich in their new lives, Adam’s face and beard covered in food, caught in rapturous delight as Rich encouraged him on, one hand working his way under Adam’s massive gut to find his cockhole to play with, and then he was gone, back into the hallway of the dorm where he had first materialized. Time had shifted back as well–it was the night before again, and the genie made quick work of erasing Adam from this old reality, all of his things disappearing from the room, leaving it as a single with just Eli living there for the moment.

The jock arrived back not too long after that and made himself at home, and while the genie was tempted to do introduce himself to the handsome jock…something else caught his attention instead. 

“Look, he’s driving me insane! He won’t keep his side of the room clean, and he tells me I’m being crazy, just expecting him to clean up after himself.”

“I get it, I really do, but I can’t do anything about this, you understand? He’s not violating any rules, and you’re going to have to learn to get along with him somehow.”

“You’re the RA! You’re supposed to manage this shit!”

The genie slipped out into the hall, and saw two students, one a bit younger than the other, arguing. The young one was apparently complaining about his roommate situation to the older one, who just looked exhausted. 

“My main interest is keeping the fucking peace, and the university doesn’t fucking care, unless he’s smoking pot or something like that. You’re gonna have to figure it out. Maybe after Winter break, we can see about getting you a different roommate, but until then, you gotta stop complaining to me every fucking day about every little thing he does.”

“Well my parents–”

“I know, you’re legacy or whatever, but they aren’t that fucking rich or you wouldn’t be living in this fucking dorm, I know that for sure.”

The freshman’s face got even redder, and he stormed off towards his room. The genie thought about following along, but instead, he floated along behind the RA, as he breathed a heavy sigh and slumped off towards his own room at the end of the hall–but before he got there, the genie materialized inside his bottle, and left himself sitting on the desk in the RA’s room.

It only took the RA, whose name was Timothy, a couple of minutes to find the bottle out of place, and decide to open it–allowing the genie to make his usual grand entrance, and introduce himself to his new “Master”. Timothy just stared at him, and the genie enjoyed the reaction. Most people reacted with a sense of wonder and excitement at meeting someone who could make their dreams come true. Timothy, on the other hand, just looked at the mystical genie floating in his room like he was yet another problem on a long list of problems he didn’t particularly want to deal with right now. Then, Timothy started to laugh.

He was laughing because all of it was absurd. This whole semester so far had been nightmarish–classes were hard, and that sucked up so much of his time, and then there was all of the shit he had to deal with as an RA too, on top of that. This floor had so much drama going on, that even his room couldn’t be a safe place for him. He was exhausted, and all he’d wanted to do for weeks was cry, but he hadn’t.

“Alright, here’s something simple for you, Mr. Genie,” Timothy said, wiping a tear from his eye as he finished laughing at the joke in front of him, “Right now, all I wish for is some time to relax. Think you can handle that?”

The genie chuckled, as he froze time, and rewound Timothy’s words, altering them slowly. He’d give Timothy so much more than a little relaxation–but what was it that the genie had Timothy wish for instead?


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Interactive: Three Words Difference (Part 1)

I can’t take credit for the basic idea of this one, it’s a story frame that floats around fairly regularly, but for the life of me I can’t remember who wrote it originally. If you recall the proper credit for the concept, send me a note, and I’ll update it.


Adam climbed up the stairs after a long day of classes, and was mostly thankful it was Monday evening, which meant that his roommate, Eli, would be at practice for the rest of the evening, and Adam could have the room to himself. It wasn’t that Eli was a bad person, or anything–it was just that the two of them had nothing in common, beyond the fact they were freshmen. Adam was a nerd in the engineering program, while Eli was here to, well, play football, and study a few things along the way. It wasn’t like the guy was dumb either–and he was really driven when it came to football–but Adam just didn’t understand it. Things were a bit awkward too, because Adam was gay, and Eli was straight as an arrow. He was being cool about it, but Adam could tell that he was a bit, well, suspicious of Adam living with him. It pissed Adam off a bit, mostly because Eli wasn’t even his type! He had a soft sport for chubby guys, really, and Eli was, well, ripped, and had the ego to match.

He pushed open the door to his dorm room, dropped his bag on the bed, and then set the package that had been waiting for him at the mailroom on his desk. He’d been expecting a care package from his mom for a few days, but this didn’t seem to be it–or at least, it didn’t seem big enough to hold everything she’d promised would be in there. He unwrapped it, and sure enough, it wasn’t–the only thing that was inside, was a small glass bottle. He held it up to the light, trying to see what was inside of it, but the glass had been smoked, making it hard to tell what might be in there, if anything. It was stoppered with a simple cork, and he searched for a letter or anything that might tell him more, but there wasn’t much to go on. It didn’t feel heavy, like there was liquid in there, but why would someone send him an empty bottle? He worked at the old cork for a couple of minutes, and eventually managed to pop it off, and as soon as he did, the room was flooded with a strange blue, green, and purple hued mist.

He rushed to open a window, but the mist didn’t move with the air–instead, it seemed to coalesce near the bottle, until a form appeared–the upper body of a strong fellow, his dark skin picking up the same blue, green and purple tones of the mist. His smile was broad, teeth white, eyes full of mirth and mystery, as he addressed the rather terrified Adam.

“Fear not my young master! I am the genie of the bottle–I have been given to you, because you are a unique soul in need of my services. For the next 24 hours, I am yours–you may have as many wishes as you desire from me while I am in your service.”

Adam was certain he must be hallucinating, but the genie assured him he was not, and in order to satisfy his demands, granted a few minor wishes for him, enough to gain the young man’s trust. This was often necessary, the genie had found–the mortals had heard tales of his kind which cast them as great tricksters. 

The genie was a trickster, of course, just not in the way that Adam was expecting.

The genie would grant his wishes, and the spirit of them–however, the genie had the power to alter three words in his master’s wishes. The master would generally believe that they had wanted to ask for the new wish, and wouldn’t realize what had happened. The genie knew it was so he could keep things from getting too out of hand, but over the centuries, the genie had found that the loophole was more than enough to allow him to toy with his Masters–and the genie was a rather perverse fellow himself. 

Satisfied with his tests, Adam found himself wondering what to wish–what he would do differently. He found himself thinking about Eli all of a sudden, and wondered…what his own life would be like, he was a jock like him. “I can always change myself back, right? If I do something dumb?”

“Of course Master–for the next 24 hours, you can live all of your fantasies.”

“And it doesn’t matter if it’s a bit vague?”

The genie shook his head, “I can sense what you desire Master–if I get something wrong, it is easily fixed.”

“Alright. Then for my first wish…I wish I was a jock.”

The genie smiled, and Adam felt something strange happen as he spoke, or as he tried to speak. It was like the words were caught between his mind and his mouth, and as they came out, they were…twisting into something different, something he hadn’t intended to say, had he? The genie just smiled away, tinkering with his Master’s wish, which was now…


Use the poll below to select what wish the genie twists Adam’s words into! You can make up to two selections. The bonus patron poll is over here as well.