Interactive Story: Arctos Dating (Part 5)

This is the finale of the story! If I have time over the next couple weeks, I might write an alternate ending for one of the other two options I offered in the survey for Patrons, but we’ll see. Enjoy!

For the next couple of weeks, Ken has a blast with the app, now that he’s the one in control. He still enjoys taking guys home with him from the shop to beat and fuck in the dungeon, but he is always prowling on the app, looking for more boys to turn into his little redneck pig sons, addicted to his cock, his floggers, and his stink. His form and identity seemed to be settling down and solidifying–he wouldn’t change as much when he hooked up with someone on the app, and he was becoming more and more adept at bending them to his own desires, without letting their own affect him nearly as much. Then, he got a new notification from the app one evening, telling him that he and another member on the app had been successfully matched for a gold tier date.

Ken clicked on the link, looking for more details, but he was disheartened to see that the information he’d become accustomed to having at his fingertips since becoming a silver tier member was gone. He had no idea who this stranger was, though the one bit of info he could see was that he, too, was silver. He hadn’t dated another silver member before, and he wasn’t quite sure how it would even work. There was a date and a time attached to the date, and while Ken considered not showing up, he knew better than to try and outsmart the app like that. It would make them connect one way or another, and he had a feeling that if he skipped out on it, he would be the one who wound up at a disadvantage. So he got on his favorite biker leathers, climbed on his hog, and drove to the meeting address, only to find himself in a familiar location–it was the same bear bar where he had had his first date with Jack, of all places.

He stepped inside, right on time, and looked around. There, by the bar, was a fellow that seemed to stick out in a rather Arctos fashion–massive, very hairy, smoking a cigar that most guys would struggle to even hold in their mouths like it was nothing. His eyes sparkled when he saw Ken, came over and gave him a hug. “Well damn, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t you! Last time I saw you, you were just barely on your way.”

Ken knew that voice! It was Jack, of all people. The big bear pulled away, beaming around his massive cigar. He had changed quite a bit since Ken had seen him last, but then, he’d changed quite a bit himself in the last month or so. Jack had been large before, but he was now even larger, maybe even an inch or so taller than Ken at this point, and Ken hadn’t met someone larger than him in a very long while. He was still muscular, but had filled out a sizable gut as well, though it was the pelt that was most impressive. The hair on his body was so thick you couldn’t see the skin beneath it very easily, and it ran all the way up onto his neck, joining with both his beard and the back of his short cropped hair–though his beard was now a fiery red, even as the rest of his his hair was a light brown. “I’m kind of happy its you, actually,” Ken admitted, “I haven’t been on a gold date before, I don’t know what to expect. Seems fitting you would be the one to show me the ropes.”

“Actually,” Jack said, “I haven’t been on one either. I’ve heard of them, a bit, but only from some guys who are coupled. They wouldn’t give me details though, or maybe they couldn’t–I don’t really know how any of this works.”

“Oh…well, do you want to grab a drink or something?”

“Really? Like we don’t know each other at all?” Jack said, and groped the front of Ken’s pants, his eyes going a bit wide. “Fuck, how big is that thing now?”

“I’d be more than happy to show you, big boy,” Ken said, “My place isn’t far, if you really want to skip the getting drunk portion of the date, and go right to the fun part.”

“Only if you smoke a big fucking cigar while we get down to business,” Jack said, and Ken felt an odd little tingle run down his body. He’d felt that sort of sensation before, but not quite so apparently. It usually signaled a change of some sort. He hadn’t been smoking before, but the craving for a cigar was growing overwhelming. He pulled a stick from his vest pocket where he usually kept them, only to pull out a cigar even larger than the one Jack had in his mouth, easily a 90 ring cigar, and close to a foot long. “Fucking hell, didn’t think you’d come packing two massive sticks.”

“I didn’t bring this thing, you said it, and it happened,” Ken said, lighting the massive cigar up.

“So, if I said I want you to grow a pelt as thick as mine….what would happen?” Jack said.

No tingle this time. Ken shrugged. “Well, I wonder what would happen if I told you that you’re a small dicked loose holed bottom bear, and from the second you groped my massive cock, you wanted to feel it inside you, rearranging those guts of yours until I blow a huge load all over your insides,” he said with a growl.

He saw Jack shudder, and with a grin around his massive cigar, he knew it had worked. “Guess that means we get to take turns,” he said.

“Shut the fuck up and take me home, I need that cock in me so fucking bad…” Jack said, grabbed hold of Ken’s hand and dragged him out of the bar, “My little dicklet is leaking all over my fucking underwear.”

“I’d fucking love to,” Ken said, giving Jack’s ass a swat as they left, feeling like he had the upper hand–for the moment at least. The hog was too small for both of them to ride, and Ken didn’t feel like getting into Jack’s truck, so they swapped a smoky kiss for a moment, and he said, “What was it you said earlier? About a thick pelt?”

“Fuck you, you’re not getting off that easy,” Jack said, “I know how much you love how I smell, you dirty fucker, getting off on my musk all the time, makes that huge cock of yours so fucking hard, especially my rank crack–ain’t that right fucker?” Ken said, and threw his arms up above his head.

Ken shoved his face into his pits, snorting up Jack’s scent, licking and sucking the sweat off the thick hair, grinding his rock hard cock up against Jack’s muscular thigh. “Fuck, you fuckin’… Git on that bike of yours, so I can get you out of that grungy leather and denim at home. I’m gonna plow you into next week for that.”

“You fuckin’ promise?”

“You fuckin’ know it.”

Jack’s truck was gone, replaced by a bike as large as Ken’s and the two of them rode back to Ken’s home, and as soon as they were down in the basement, they started peeling off each other’s clothes. Ken threw Jack onto the king size bed, hearing the springs creak under his massive size, climbed up, spread the cheeks apart and ate out his hole for a few minutes while Jack smoked, reveling in the smell of the hairy bears hole, his cock harder than he could even recall it being. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he climbed up and pushed the head of his cock against his hole, feeling the hairy bear’s ass open up and almost start nursing at the head. “Quit fuckin’ teasing it,” Jack said, setting his cigar off to the side on the nightstand, “Get in there–I’m gonna milk at least five huge loads out of those massive nuts of yours, I want this fucking bed soaked in your cum and sweat before you stop. You wanna fuck me so bad, then you’re gonna be fuckin’ me all night long.”

“Oh fuck!” Ken said, feeling his nuts start to swell even larger as he drove the head and the first few inches of his cock into Jack’s hole, gouting enough precum to help lubricate the rest as he started fucking, a little deeper with each thrust, grunting and snorting with need, his balls literally pulshing and churning with cum, smacking against Jack’s hairy thighs. “You’re fuckin’ askin’ fer it now,” Jack said, his drawl coming on full strength, hornier than he could even recall being in his life. “Ya always were the stupid one, bro, ya know, always thinkin’ with yer hole, never with that head a yers, just my dirty, stinkin’ redneck pig of a little brother, been huntin’ fer cock all day long since he was eighteen, but ya always come back tah mine, don’t ya. No one else can fill ya up like I can, no one can really give this loose, empty hole ya call an ass a proper fuck. No fist is big enough, even, only yer big brother knows how tah treat this hole right, can treat ya as rough as ya really want,” he slammed his whole length into Jack’s ass, pinning him to the mattress, one arm wrapping around Jack’s neck and pulling tight enough to make him gasp, “Ain’t that right, ya stupid pig, yer just mah little fuckhole, ain’t ya, and ya fuckin’ love it.”

He watched as some of the light dimmed out of Jack’s eyes, his beard warping into a set of muttonchops, leaving his chin one of the few places on his body without hair, and the hair on the back of his head grew out into a mullet. It was the smell of him, though, that entranced him. He smelled…like him. They smelled like each other. They smelled like their dad–it was the first time he’d really known he was related to someone he was fucking, not just playing around, and he was so turned on, he pushed off, and started jackhammering into his brother’s hole, listening to the horny pig grunt and snort below him, mind addled, both of their heads filling up with new memories of their lives together.

They had the same father, but different mothers–they’d met after Jack had turned eighteen, and from the moment they laid eyes on each other, they’d been in a sick, twisted, hungry love with one another. They’d moved in, and while Ken found plenty of other holes to fuck around with, and Jack certainly found other cock, the two of them were truly a perfect match. No one else could take Ken’s rough marathon fucking, and no one else could fill Jack’s aching needy hole just right. Jack gave a holler and Ken felt the hole contract around his cock, Jack’s little three inch cock spurting out a load of cum all over the sheet below him, the first of many anal orgasms he’d enjoy for the rest of the night. Ken thought about taking his time, but he was too horny–he drove in, harder and harder until he exploded, pumping shot after shot of cum into Jack’s ass until it was flowing out each time he pulled out a little, but his cock didn’t go the least bit soft.

“Round two, bro?”

“Fuck bro, don’t you dare fuckin’ stop.”

Ken leaned in, took a hit off Jack’s rank, unwashed pits, and gave a body wide shake of delight, cock back to full stiffness, and he drove back in, easier this time, making sure he hit all the right spots in his brother’s hole, giving him orgasm after orgasm, milking his prostate dry, cumming himself the promised four more times that night before he finally collapsed, too exhausted to continue, and the two of them shared one of their trademark massive cigars in bed, Ken taking regular breaks to enjoy his brother’s pits in the process.

They got the notification at the same time, alerting them that they had both been promoted to the gold tier of the Arctos Dating app–as a gold level couple, they would be able to go on occasional double dates, though generally, couples wouldn’t inflict further changes on each other. They were also allowed to peruse the silver profiles, and if there was sufficient compatibility, add additional members to their gold unit.

Ken liked the sound of that, and he scrolled through until he found Ryan’s profile, and invited him on a date with them both the next evening.

“Who’s that?” Jack asked.

“I love havin’ a brother, don’t get me wrong, but what I always wanted was a son, ya know that,” Ken said.

“Aww fuck, that mean I get tah be a Daddy too?”

“No, yer gonna be a uncle, dumbass.”

“Oh, right–can he call be Daddy anyway?”

“I’m gonna be Daddy. He’ll call ya Unc.”

Jack pouted a bit. “Will he have a big cock, at least?”

“Would that make ya feel better, ya horny fuck?” Ken said, grinning at his brother. “Fine, he can have a big cock, but it ain’t gonna be as big as mine.”

With that, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, snoring loudly, already dreaming of the pervy family they would be making soon enough, happy as could be.

Interactive Story – Arctos Dating (Part 1)

Guess who finally cleared their commission queue! This fella, it was me. Sorry the content over here has been a little sporadic for the last while, but while I get back to work on The Pigtown Chronicles, I thought it would be a good time to do another interactive story! I considered picking up where I’d left off with Frat Daddy, but decided to start a new one instead. This time around, we have a rather mysterious Arctos branded dating app. One slight change this time around is that I won’t be running a private and a public poll for these anymore–voting on what happens next will be patron only. However, all patrons, at every reward level, will be able to access it this time around. If you want to support me, and get a say in what happens next, check out my patreon page!

It had been the longest year and a half of his life, he supposed. Ken had gotten out of a relationship in the summer of 2019, found himself his own place and settled in on his own in the fall, as the first news of the new virus was spreading through China. He hadn’t thought much of it–he’d been more focused on enjoying his new found solitude after that rather crushing relationship. He didn’t want to be alone forever, of course, but after taking a few months to himself, just as he was about to start putting himself back out there, well, the whole world had shut down in a matter of weeks, leaving him trapped in his apartment, utterly alone.

His work had gone fully remote, he could order in enough food, but as the months wore on, his one bedroom apartment went from feeling cramped, to claustrophobic, to outright punishing. He reorganized the furniture over and over again, obsessed over whatever stupid hobby people were discussing on social media. He baked bread, he curated his zoom background for work and presentations, he streamed more movies and television than he’d ever wanted to watch in his whole life, but now, at last, the world was beginning to blossom again.

Early on, he’d retreated onto the various hookup apps like a lot of guys had, only to find the whole experience dissatisfying. He didn’t want more people to chat with, or another screen to stare at, he wanted someone he could touch, and smell, and, well, fuck of course. So he’d uninstalled them all after a while, resolving he wouldn’t download any of them again until he was confident he’d be able to see people in person, and that time seemed to be now. The first few gay bars were opening up around town again, and while distance and masking was more or less adhered to, now that cases were down and Pride season was swinging, it felt as close to the old world as he’d managed to get, since he’d gotten his vaccination in late Spring.

And so, he started downloading. He picked up the usuals of course–grindr, scruff, and growlr–he had a soft spot for bears. When they were downloading, he saw another app recommended for him. Something called Arctos Dating. He opened it up, and saw it was another bearish sort of dating app, and downloaded it on a whim. It probably didn’t have much of a user base, but why not give it a shot and see what happened.

He opened it up, and quickly realized what the gimmick was. It was a bear dating app, sure, but it was also blind. No profiles, no pictures. The app just asked you these fairly boring multiple choice questions–favorite colors, hobbies, that sort of stuff that you’d put in a profile anyway, and then it whisked it away. He poked around the app a bit more, but found that he had limited functionality, because he was only a trial member. Wondering how much the thing cost per month, he couldn’t even find a place to purchase a membership. The only information he could find was a rather cryptic section of a deep FAQ that said membership levels were determined by participation on the app. But how was he supposed to participate, if the app didn’t let him do anything? Frustrated, he closed it out and mostly forgot about it, sticking to his profiles on the other sites, reconnecting with guys on there–but that evening, he got a little push notification from the Arctos app.

“Hey! A silver level member wants to meet with you tonight! Tap here to connect!”

Curious again, Ken clicked the notification, expecting a profile to pop up and maybe a chat window, only for there to be nothing of the sort. There was just a time and a location, telling him the date was set for seven that evening at The Roadhouse, one of the more bearish bars in town. It really was going to be a blind date–he knew absolutely nothing about this person. Still, he’d struck out on tinder, hinge, grinder, scruff and every other app that evening, so what was the risk, really? If the guy was ugly, he could just leave after all. Or who knows, maybe he could pick his brain a little about how this app actually works, and how he managed to become a silver level member, and what that even meant.

So he got dressed in some casual clothes, and checked himself in the mirror. He’d fuck himself, he supposed. He was twenty-five, still pretty much in the twink category–or chaser, as he’d been called a few times before, given his interest in older bears. He had thick hair that fell almost to his shoulder, and when he was more committed to working out, could still manage to get that six pack to pop out on occasion, though he’d been pretty sedentary through the pandemic, and wasn’t quite as muscular as he had been before. Still, he felt good about it, and headed for the bar, wondering how, exactly, he was supposed to know who he was even meeting.

It was a weeknight, and so the bar wasn’t particularly crowded. Ken went to the bar, got himself a drink, and scanned the room, only to spot a fellow waving him down from a table in the corner of the room. He wandered over, and the man stuck out his hand. “You must be Ken, right? From Arctos?”

“Uh, yeah. How did you know?”

The fellow showed him his phone, and sure enough, there was a photo of Ken on it, though he was certain that the app hadn’t asked him for one. “Sure looks like you.”

“That is me, but how do you have a photo? The app doesn’t show me anything like that.”

“Oh fuck, are you just a trial member? I remember those days. I didn’t check, I just don’t see many chasers on the app, thought it would be a little treat,” he said, and said, “The name’s Jack, nice to meet you.”

“What’s up with the membership thing? I couldn’t find a screen to explain the subscription to me.”

“Oh, you don’t subscribe, it’s based on activity. The more you use the app, the more access it gives you to other features.”

“How am I supposed to use it if it doesn’t let me do anything?” Ken asked.

Jack just laughed, and pulled a cigar from the pocket of the flannel shirt he had on. “Let’s head for the patio, you don’t mind if I smoke, do you?”

Ken did, actually. He’d quit smoking about three months before the pandemic had hit, and managing to keep from going back to it was one of the few victories he’d managed to chalk over the wasted year and a half. But before he could say that, he found himself following Jack out onto the patio, where the bear lit up his cigar, and exhaled a thick plume into the evening air. They continued to chat, though Jack seemed to be the one steering the conversation. It started off fairly innocuous–work, hobbies, things like that, though the two of them had almost nothing in common. Something about Jack was rather infectious though, and despite the fact that Ken wanted to despise him for any number of petty reasons, he was instead hanging on every word, and growing more and more turned on with each plume of smoke pushed in his direction.

“Want to taste it?” Jack asked, turning the cigar to him, “You haven’t taken your eyes off it.”

“I quit smoking about two years ago, I’m not looking to start again.”

“Come on, just one little puff is all,” Jack said, pushed the cigar into his mouth, and Ken took a little into his mouth, resisting the urge to inhale it, only for Jack to lock lips with him and pull the smoke out of him, then feed it back. Ken had never done anything like that before in his life, and when Jack took a deeper draw on the cigar, leaned in and kissed him again, he rolled with it, the two of them sharing a smoky kisses for the next few minutes, until Ken couldn’t bear it anymore, and got up, excusing himself to the bathroom for a moment.

He didn’t know what had gotten into him, honestly. None of this was the sort of thing he was even into, usually. In the bathroom, he splashed some water on his face, looked at himself, and was taken aback. His usual five o’clock stubble was closer to a full beard, and he seemed thicker than he should be–but maybe that was just the light, and the slightly warped bar mirror. In any case, this date was too weird, and as turned on as he was, he resolved to ditch–only for the door to the bathroom to open and Jack to step inside. “Thought you could hide from me in here, eh?”

“Look, I…I think I’m gonna head home, alright? It’s been nice meeting you, but this isn’t really what I’m into.”

Jack moved in, one hand going right to Ken’s crotch and groping his mostly hard cock. “Feels like you’re pretty into it, if you ask me.” He pushed Ken back against the wall, one arm on either side of his head, and Ken could smell him, his woodsy, smoky musk coming through the shirt, and he let out a little moan again. Jack went for his neck, kissing and licking where his sudden beard stopped while he undid the buttons of Ken’s shirt, rubbing his hands over his chest and belly. Ken shuddered, and when he looked down, he saw that, like his beard, he was much more hairy than he should be. And a little more muscular, just thicker all over, really. “Please, something…I need to get home.”

“I have a better idea,” Jack said, “Why don’t we go home to my place, and we can plow each other’s holes all fucking night long? That big cock of yours would feel so damn good in my hole, I can already tell.” Jack gave Ken a hard grope, and he could almost feel his cock swell larger as he did, and even though he tried to protest, a few more kisses, a grope of his ass, and he found himself holding onto Jack’s hand and letting the bear drag him the two blocks away to his apartment.

He spent the rest of the night in the bedroom, a cigar shoved in his mouth, giving Jack a good long fuck–though Ken was usually much more of a bottom. He’d never felt this horny in his life, and while he didn’t measure it, he was sure, somehow, that his cock had grown at least a couple of inches. The rest of him too, it seemed that the more contact he had with Jack, the more he was becoming some big, hairy cigar smoking muscle bear. The night finished with him on all fours on the bed, Jack eating out his sweaty asshole and blowing cigar smoke up his hole before returning the favor, shooting a load deep in his ass and milking a second load out of Ken all over the sheets below him, before the two of them collapsed on the ashy sheets.

“Fucking hell, what the fuck was that?” Ken muttered, mostly to himself, but Jack chuckled and pulled him into his damp, hairy chest.

“I asked myself that too, the first time. It’s a great app, trust me.”

Whatever hold Jack had over him seemed to be ebbing, and when Ken excused himself to leave, Jack didn’t stop him. He walked his way back to his car, horrified and elated in turn, and got home in one piece at around five in the morning. He was almost afraid to look at himself in the mirror, but the strange changes he’d noticed over the course of the night seemed to have disappeared–mostly. He still had a slightly heavier stubble than normal, and the nicotine craving was much, much stronger than he wanted to admit, but after a few glasses of water and a shower, he was more exhausted than anything else. He climbed into bed, and figured he’d sort the rest of it out in the morning.

It was hard to parse what he was feeling the next day. Hungover, humiliated, ecstatic, mortified, horny, desperate, used, satisfied. He popped some tylenol for the physical misery he was suffering, after a long night of physical exertion, and checked his phone, only to find another notification from the Arctos Dating app waiting for him.

“Congratulations, you got your cherry popped! You’ve gone from trial member to bronze member.”

He clicked the notification, expecting the app to have opened up for him now, but found that the functionality was frustratingly limited still. No profiles, no pictures. The one thing he could find that was definitely new was a button that said, “Update Profile”. Maybe that would open the app up for him, then. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted another experience like that though, so he closed the app down and focused on getting through the rest of his weekend chores…but by that evening, his curiosity, and his horniness, had the app back open again.

He’d never had an encounter like that in his life. Sure, it had been…a bit scary, but nothing bad had happened to him, right? So he clicked the button, only to find himself assaulted with a slew of new meaningless questions–or at least, the first couple were. Then, it asked…very specific questions about his little encounter with Jack that night, and he got a little concerned. How did they know any of this stuff? He tried to exit out, but the app wouldn’t let him leave until he finished the survey, so he completed it, and shut it down, thought about deleting it, but didn’t. Jack probably put the info in or something. Nothing nefarious. He opened it up again, but still no profiles–apparently, he’d just have to wait again for someone to want to meet him for another blind date, and in the meantime, he’d just have to let things be.

As I said above, patrons get early access to these chapters, and get to vote on what happens next in the story! Patrons at all levels, even just $1, get access to the surveys. If you’d like to know more, check out my patreon page here.

Caption: Rest Area Tales #3 – The Woodsmen

Nate was heading home from a trip, and stopped at a rest area he hadn’t been to before. He wasn’t much for cruising usually, but he’d been feeling pretty horny, and when he saw the note scrawled on the side of the bathroom stall that said, “Cum join the Woodsmen” he figured that most of the action must take place in the rather dense woods around the rest stop. It couldn’t hurt to look around, so he found a little narrow trail running off away from the parking lot, and followed it.

The deeper he went, the more he felt a strange sensation that he was being watched, but he didn’t see anyone else around him. A little unnerved, he was going to turn back and continue on when he caught sight of someone not too far off. He wasn’t his usual type of guy, looked like he was a trucker probably. Chubby, thick white beard, dick out and hard. Nate wasn’t looking to bottom so he kept going, and too late, noticed that the bear was following him. The older fellow shoved Nate up against a tree, tugged down the athletic shorts he had on, got down and started eating him out voraciously, snorting and grunting like some wild animal.

He managed to tear himself away from the man after a few moments, hiking up his pants, looked around and saw that he was no longer alone. Rather, he was surrounded by men of all shapes and sizes, though almost all of them were furry–some so thickly that it did more to cover them than the shredded clothes clinging to their bodies. Horrified, he took off in the direction of the trail, or at least, where he thought the trail was, but the parking lot never materialized. He tumbled down a little ravine and landed in a muddy stream at the bottom, struggled his way out, only for another woodman to tackle him from above, pinning him down in the muck, more and more coming now, swarming around him. He could smell them now, a strange spicy musk, almost floral. It was invading his mind as the man’s cock slid into his hole, and Nate too began snorting and grunting in excitement, his rational mind trying to fight back, but he could tell it was too late.

He was a woodsman now too, just like the rest of him, and when the orgy that followed was finished, he thought about trying to find his way back out…but the voices in his mind, the scents of the woods, they drew him deeper in, and no one saw Nate again, aside from the men who wandered into the woods themselves, of course.

Captions: Owned / Dirtier

Since I missed yesterday’s post, here’s a double feature!

Owned

“How long has it been since you were here, slave?”

“A…a month.”

“A month, Master,” he said, and gave the rubber clad man a smack on the ass, and left it there, running his fingers between his thighs, tracing the chastity cage locked on the outside of the rubber catsuit. “I will not have a slave disrespect me in public. We are lax at home on occasion, but I know you know your manners well.”

“Yes Master.”

“A month since you went home with me. Remember what a confident little shithead you were? Talking about how you were all top, never gonna bottom in your life? Now look at you. That big cock of yours locked away, hole loose and ready,” he said, and slid two of his fingers through the slit in the back of the rubber suit, pressing up against the slave’s hole, feeling him shudder at the touch. “You’re owned now, and once we go in there, everyone is going to know it. Everyone you’ve fucked. Everyone who wanted to fuck you. They’re gonna know that you’re my property. How does that make you feel?”

The slave didn’t respond right away, just let out a little moan.

“It makes you excited, doesn’t it?”

Another little moan, followed by, “Yes Master, it does.”

“How many men do you think I should let use your holes tonight?”

“As many as you want, Master.”

“Good, slave, you do learn quickly. The last slave I had, I couldn’t take him out in public for three months. I know you’re going to serve me well in there tonight, won’t you?”

“Yes Master.”

“And remember–always pride. Be proud that you realized who you are. Most of those men in there are too scared to accept it. But you are right where you want to be, isn’t that right?”

The slave nodded, and he followed his Master into the bar to begin his new life.

Dirtier

You hadn’t taken that old bitch seriously, of course. Who would have, really? Ranting and raving about some curse or something, while security was dragging her out of the bank where you worked, saying something about how if all you cared about was dirty money, then you might as well just keep getting dirtier.

But for the next week or so, you kept noticing things. Dirt kept appearing under your fingernails, no matter how well you cleaned them at night, and it wasn’t like you were doing anything to make them dirty in the first place. Then you noticed that, after you showered, you always still had a lingering musk around you. It wasn’t too bad at first, but by the next week, you got a couple of comments at work. You tried all of these different soaps and shampoos, but nothing helped, and by then, the dirt was starting to spread as well.

Then, it wasn’t just you, either. You went to bed in a set of clean sheets, and when you woke up the next morning, they were filthy. Stained, reeking of sweat and cum and piss, and worst of all, you didn’t mind it. It smelled good to you all of a sudden, and you couldn’t resist rolling over, grinding your cock into the sheets and adding another load to them. You showered after, of course, but it didn’t help. You could smell it lingering around you, that same grungy scent, and the more you noticed it, the hornier you were getting.

You tried to find that woman, but there was no sign of her anywhere, all of her bank records had just vanished. Your boss called you into his office, raked you over the coals for your slovenly appearance. You didn’t know where that beard had come from, or how your hair had gotten so long so quickly. You went home early, tried to shave it off and cut it away, but it would grow back faster than you could remove it, thicker and thicker each time. That day, you went to put on a suit, dreading going in to work again, but all of your suits had disappeared, replaced with grungy looking hi vis workwear and nothing else.

But then, what else would you wear? In a stupor, you pulled on some of the filthy garments and went to work–but not at the bank. You were a construction worker, right? You spent the day trying to convince yourself otherwise, but couldn’t manage it. This just…felt right. You were scared, and too tired to fight it. Maybe if you just let it happen, it would stop. This wasn’t so bad, right? And for a while, your body didn’t get worse, at least, but your mind started growing filthier instead. Working around all of those other musky, masculine men, you found yourself caught in fantasy after fantasy, about how they would use your dirty body–and as you concocted each scenario, they came true.

The foreman pissing on you in the portpotty. A father and son tag teaming your holes in the back of their pickup. Timmy, the fattest guy on the crew, sitting his grungy ass on your face while you jacked off your rank cock. You didn’t live in that nice house anymore. You lived in a studio apartment, never cleaned, never cared for. Sometimes, you would fight, try and remember who you’d been, but when you did, it would get worse somehow, always worse, but now, why can’t you find your way home?

You usually walked home, sometimes sucking cock in the alleys on your way to and from the construction site, but now, you just couldn’t find it. You ended up in an alley, and slept there, interrupted by a couple of cops walking their beat, who took a little break to fuck your nasty hole in the middle of the night. Come morning, you went back to the construction site, but you didn’t work there anymore. That didn’t stop all the men from using you of course, but you were too filthy even for that work now. You made your way back to your alley, still so damn horny, but things, at least, couldn’t get worse than this, right?

(Caption) A Flubbed Spell

October Caption Challenge 2/30

“Oh fuck daddy, please, your boy’s hole is so hungry for your big cock, please fuck me Daddy…”

This wasn’t right, this wasn’t how this was supposed to be happening. Jeremy flipped his way through the spell book again, trying not to think about his growing gut, the hair that was coating his face and body, the winking asshole of his boy, fuck he wanted to pound that ass so bad, but if he did, then they really would be fucked for good.

Jeremy had always had a thing for his dad. When he’d found the old tome of spells at the library, he thought he might be able to cobble together something that might make his dad a little more willing to have sex with him. Thinking he’d worked it out, he’d cast it earlier, and it had definitely worked, but not in the way he’d intended. His dad was looking younger and younger. In fact, as Jeremy stared at him, his beard was shrinking up into his face, his body slimming down, the hair pulling back in as he grew younger and younger. Jeremy on the other hand, was getting older and older, the hair on his body picking up silver. He let out a groan of frustration, ran a hand over his head and it came away with a clump. He didn’t know how to make it work! And if he didn’t figure it out, and he fucked his boy, then the spell would seal–he’d never be able to undo it, no matter what!

“Damn it Daddy, I’m tired of waiting. Put down the stupid book and fuck me!” his boy said, ripped the tome out of his hand, and climbed into his lap, naked, legs wrapped around his waist, groping Jeremy’s fattening chest, rubbing his now hairless crack against the head of Jeremy’s fat daddy cock through the shorts barely containing his new bulk.

“God damn it boy! I’m not gonna fuck you!” Jeremy said, and pushed him off, voice deeper and more commanding.

His boy was relentless, however, shoved his face into Jeremy’s crotch and started licking at the head, Jeremy moaning, leaking precum from his heavy balls. He grabbed the boy’s head in his hands and smothered him under his belly with a growl, trying hard to remember that he couldn’t fuck him he couldn’t, but a blowjob couldn’t hurt, right?

But no matter how hard his boy sucked on him, he couldn’t cum, and the horniness was driving him insane. Finally, unable to resist any longer, he threw his boy to the floor, climbed on him, and drove his cock into his hole. It was…amazing, better than he’d expected it to be in a million years, and in less than a minute, he came–and he felt the spell snap into place, their roles now forever reversed.

Still, there were worse things, right? He had a handsome boy willing to do anything to please him. The spell had left him wealthy enough that neither of them needed to work. All Jeremy had to do all day was drink his whiskey, smoke his cigars, and fuck his son’s hole whenever either of them got horny. After a few days, neither of them could recall a time things had been different. The book went back to the library, ready for someone else to find it, and try to work it’s magic in their favor.

Frat Daddy: Interlude #5 (Jimmy/Bear)

Jimmy didn’t understand how they could all do it. Just…go along with it. Ever since Daddy had appeared and taken over the house, Jimmy had been hoping that someone would say something, or stop it, and while there were so boys would put up resistance (like Jake, who was going out every night to fuck girls in various sorority houses around campus, no one was…fighting this. Jimmy wasn’t fighting it either, mind you, but he wanted someone to, mostly because he was, well, falling behind. But then, Jimmy usually found himself behind, if he was being honest. He was a freshman, and he’d rushed the fraternity with a couple of his friends that he’d met at school, who assured him that it was going to be the best way for Jimmy to meet, and ideally fuck chicks. Jimmy hadn’t fucked anyone before–he’d had a few near misses back in high school, but he’d never gotten further than touching a boob. Jimmy wasn’t the most handsome, or the most athletic. He kept hoping that he would find a time to really shine–that’s what his mom always told him would happen at least, that he’d find his place at school, but now that so much had changed, he only felt like he was flailing more.

Jimmy tried to keep up with the rest of the house as best he could, but he knew he was falling behind–although falling behind of what, he didn’t know anymore. What did he want out of any of this? He’d already hated being in the frat. His friends didn’t really talk to him anymore once they’d gotten in, and most of the other guys in the house just ignored him, and he’d already been looking for a way to get out as soon as he could. Now though, the rest of the boys were all, well, thriving, he supposed. Some of them especially, like Mike and Carter, were taking really well to Daddy’s new direction. Most of the rest of the guys were guzzling shakes, working out as hard as they could, and packing on mass. Jimmy struggled. He would drink as much as he could, but he’d struggle to even hit the goal Daddy had set for them, and if he did hit it, he’d feel so gross he wouldn’t be able to join the rest of the guys for the evening workout. He’d just smoke a cigar, horny as hell but with no outlet, and go to bed early. The other guys would come up, fucking each other into the evening and night while Jimmy laid in bed and hoped no one would accost him. No one did, which somehow made him feel worse. He was just getting fat, and the fatter he got, the more he hated himself, and the more he hated everything about all of this.

Each Friday night, he would stand at attention with the rest of the boys, utterly terrified that Daddy would pick him to come over for the weekend, but also desperate for some sort of recognition. Just…to know that he was noticed, and not simply disappearing. Daddy didn’t say anything to him usually, but he did see him, see through him, into him, and that was somehow worse. Eventually, it happened. Daddy had been taking a couple boys at a time, but this weekend, he only selected Jimmy. The others looked confused–why would Daddy want that loser, they would wonder. Jimmy didn’t know either, but he followed Daddy downstairs, through the tunnel, and into his dungeon. He was terrified that they would stop there, but instead Daddy led him upstairs, where dinner had been prepared, and Jimmy devoured the first real meal he’d had in ages. Daddy ate too, but he mostly watched. They were both silent, Jimmy looking up at the older man on occasion, wondering if he should say something, or if saying something was a trap.

“Is this how you got your way through life so far?” Daddy asked as they finished their plates, “Staying quiet and hoping no one would notice you?”

Jimmy didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just kept mum, hands in his lap, eyes on his hands.

Daddy got up from the table, and motioned for Jimmy to stand as well. Daddy circled him, making a few little hmms and haas as he did, and Jimmy hated it, feeling like he was under a microscope all of a sudden. Of course Daddy had brought him here because he was a failure. He was probably going to kick him out. Would that be a bad thing? Isn’t that what he wanted anyway? A way out?

“Why did you join the frat, Jimmy? What were you looking for?” Daddy asked as he finished his circle.

“I wanted to…have sex with girls,” Jimmy said, a little horrified at how his mouth had just poured that out so easily. “My friends said it would be easy.”

“Have you been having sex with your brothers now?” Daddy asked, giving Jimmy’s cock a squeeze through his jock.

“Not…really. A few have fucked me, but I’ve never pulled out their plugs.”

“You must be a little pent up then.”

Jimmy nodded, and blushed, embarrassed that he’d admitted it all so easily.

“Do you want to fuck them?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Are you sure you don’t know?”

“I do, Daddy.”

Daddy nodded. “Alright then. Come on, let’s have a smoke, boy–Daddy’s cock needs some attention. Tomorrow, I have something I’d like to try with you.”

They retired to the lounge, where Daddy and Jimmy smoked a pair of cigars, and Jimmy spent the rest of the evening between Daddy’s legs, blowing smoke over his cock and sucking on it until Daddy fed him a sizable load–then it was time for bed, and Jimmy found sleep difficult, wondering what Daddy could have in mind for their day tomorrow.

After breakfast, Daddy left Jimmy to clean up while he disappeared for a little while, and then reappeared from downstairs. He told Jimmy to follow him down, but they stopped before they reached the dungeon. Daddy showed him three masks that were laid out on a side table. Jimmy hadn’t ever seen these sorts of masks in real life, but he’d seen pictures of things like them in porn before. There was a fairly standard looking pup hood, made of leather and neoprene. Next to it, was a rubber pig hood. Lastly was one he hadn’t seen before. It was similar to the pup hood, but clearly it was modelled after a bear, and made with much thicker leather pieces, with some metal studs to signify fangs on the snout.

“I think that each of these would appeal to you, in one way or another,” Daddy said, “A mask isn’t a solution, but it can…let us escape from ourselves from a little while, imagine something different. If you want my honest opinion, Jimmy, your problem isn’t that this place is a bad fit for you–it’s that you don’t know what you want to get from it, so you feel listless. This might help give you something to hold on to. Go on and pick one, and then we’ll go play.”

Jimmy picked up each of the masks, but wasn’t brave enough to put any of them on himself. He felt silly, like it was Halloween or something. There was one he preferred though–he handed the bear mask to Daddy, but Daddy just motioned for Jimmy to put it on. He did, not expecting anything miraculous from the experience. Daddy helped get it centered on his head so he could see easily, and then put him in front of a mirror, and the reflection…it did feel different. It was his body, but it wasn’t his face. The mask made him look tough. Like no one would want to mess with him. He tweaked his face a bit, and managed to bare the metal fangs of the mask, and a little thrill went through him, much to his embarrassment. He almost pulled it off then and there, but Daddy secured the mask to his collar and locked it, and then pushed the masked Jimmy into the dungeon, where he found himself looking at a boy on the fuckbench, hooded so he couldn’t see who it was, exactly, and there weren’t any other identifying features that he could see.

“Well, you told me you want to fuck a hole, Bear,” Daddy said, “So fuck it.”

Jimmy balked, at first, but something else pushed him forward, something…instinctual. He gripped the boy’s hips in his hands, hard enough for the young man to moan through the gag in his mouth, and Jimmy’s cock was already hard. Fuck, he couldn’t do this, could he?

He looked over at the mirror, and a new thought came to him. Maybe Jimmy couldn’t. Maybe Jimmy was too scared, too timid, too worried, too anxious. But was Bear any of those things? Bear didn’t look like any of that–Bear looked like a fat, furry, beast who was ready to fuck. He pulled the plug out without taking the time to second guess himself, and pushed his cock into the boy’s already lubed hole, and he moaned–no, no moans from him. Bear growls. Bear grunts. Bear fucks hard and mercilessly. Bear doesn’t take shit from anyone. Bear knows what he wants, and Bear takes it. Jimmy fucked hard, came once, and just kept going. Bear doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied, after all, and Bear has not had enough sex in a very long time.

Finally, after three loads, Jimmy stepped back, exhausted and sweating, and looked at himself in the mirror again–but he wasn’t looking at Jimmy, not at the Jimmy he recognized. He was muscular, covered in hair, a thick beard pushing out from the bottom of Bear’s mask, tattoos on his chest and arms, a thick cock with a PA in the head, two massive balls swinging below it. He gaped at himself, until Daddy stepped up, unlocked the mask from his collar, and pulled it off–and the illusion was gone. It was just him standing there, and a very well fucked boy moaning on the fuck bench, obviously quite satisfied.

Daddy pulled him out of the room and took him into a bathroom where Jimmy had a shower, and when he stepped back out, the boy was gone, and the masks were as well. It was just Daddy waiting for him, and JImmy understood what he’d meant, sort of. But that hadn’t really been him, had it? No–that had been the mask, it had changed him, he’d felt it. Daddy told him that he didn’t need the mask–that if he really wanted to become Bear himself, the only thing standing in his way, was himself.

It made sense, in a way. Daddy spent the rest of the day with him in the gym, giving him some pointers on exercising, encouraging him to convert some of that bulk to brawn, but when Jimmy asked if he could wear the mask again, Daddy shook his head. “You can’t just rely on the mask–things like that can have a mind of their own as well, if you aren’t careful,” Daddy said with a slight smile, “Never put it on without me there to supervise, alright?”

That sounded like bullshit to Jimmy, but he nodded in agreement. Maybe he had a point after all. But part of him couldn’t get past the idea that Bear was…different than him, that putting on that mask had given him some extra power that he didn’t have on his own. When he returned to the house that Sunday, feeling and looking a bit better, he did his best, and to some extent, he managed. He kept up with the meals and the workouts, and the other boys that had always ignored him, that he’d always assumed had despised him, didn’t seem so bad after all. But it wasn’t easy. It was work. After a week of it, he found himself falling back into his old habits, isolating himself, but now he couldn’t blame it on everyone else. Now he knew that he was making a choice, and that hurt.

If he could just wear that mask again, if he could just feel like that again, it would help, he knew it would. He found himself hoping on Friday that Daddy would take him again, though he’d never taken the same boy two weeks in a row. He didn’t, of course, and while Jimmy knew that his hope had been irrational, he still felt betrayed. Couldn’t Daddy see that he was still struggling? That he needed help? But it was all in his hands, he knew that. He could make the change, he could do the work, he could be that person he’d seen in the mirror. But if he was the one making the change, then why couldn’t he decide to use that mask to help him along?

He knew that was a bad idea, after what Daddy had said, but it stuck with him all the same. Saturday night, after a long rough day of struggling to make progress, he couldn’t resist it anymore. He went downstairs, crossed through the tunnel into the dungeon, going as quietly as he could, and found the three masks hanging on the wall. He pulled down Bear again, held it in his hands, and if he hadn’t been certain before, he was now. It wasn’t…alive, but it was aware. It had power. Whether it had power because he believed it did, or because Daddy had put it there, it didn’t matter. He pulled the mask on again, and felt that rush from before when he looked at himself in the mirror, watched himself growing thicker and hairier, a good amount of fat melting off his body and being replaced with muscle. He saw the tattoos on his body appear again, saw his thick cock grow hard and begin to leak, and he wanted to fuck so bad. Maybe…just go back to the frat, fuck one of the boys who was still awake. He could do that, right?

He went to leave the dungeon, only for a sudden sense of vertigo to send him to his hands and knees, the room spinning around him. Something was wrong. He was still…growing? No, he was still changing, but not getting bigger. Was he getting smaller? Growing more compact, maybe, his height contracting to around five and a half feet, even more mass piling on him as he grew hairier, coated in a full pelt of fur now. The voice from the mask was louder now, so loud! Not so much a voice, just…thoughts, desires, thirsts. He tried to pull the mask off, but couldn’t get a grip on it, like the leather had somehow fused with his neck. His skin…why did it feel so rough and leathery all of a sudden? His face ached, feeling like the mask was tugging on it, contorting it, teeth aching. He roared in pain and collapsed–the last thing he remembered was the sound of feet on the stairs, and Daddy was standing over him, when he fainted.

Jimmy didn’t remember much, when he woke. Daddy was there with him, still on the floor of the dungeon, stroking his side and back, making Jimmy moan. Daddy sighed. “I warned you about this, but I didn’t think it would go this far.”

Jimmy tried to ask him what was wrong, but his mouth didn’t seem to cooperate. He could get out a few words, but between his aching face under the mask, and his addled brain, nothing made sense, really.

Daddy hushed him, and kept him comfortable, gripped the amulet around his neck, and stroked his head. “Hush now, my bear. Go to sleep. Everything will make sense in the morning. It’s not what I wished for you, but it seems you may have made a place for yourself anyway. You’ll be more than happy, I promise.”

When Bear awoke, it was on the floor of the dormitory upstairs. He looked around, a bit discombobulated, but this was where he was supposed to sleep, right? He looked around at the little corner the boys had made for Bear, someone between a brother, a house mascot, and a pet. No one really knew where Bear had come from, if you asked them–especially not Bear. No one could recall Jimmy had ever existed, and his bed and belongings had seemingly evaporated. Bear crawled out of bed and gave a shake and a yawn, showing the rather…inhuman mouth he had inside that leather mask that never came off his head. No one knew for sure if it even could–Bear had been known to snap at anyone who tried to mess with it too much. Other than that, he was completely naked. Even when the boys took him on campus to go to their football games, Bear remained nude, but no one thought it odd.

Bear was still hard from the rather pleasant dream he’d been having in his sleep, something he couldn’t remember, but which had certainly aroused him. He bent over, and gave the head of his thick cock a little lick, his stout body surprisingly flexible. He eyed the boys around him, just rousing from sleep, saw Eric had bent over next to their bed, and before the boy could do anything to avoid it, Bear had crawled over, hauled his plug out with his teeth, growled something that was understood to be the word “Fuck,” and mounted him right there on the side of the bed, his cock driving right into the boy’s hole.

“Goddamn it Bear!” Eric said, pinned under the stout fellow’s substantial mass as Bear humped his hole. Still, there was no saying no to Bear. In fact, getting fucked by the brute was a pleasure, since his cum always seemed to have a rather…invigorating effect on the boy who got seeded. Bear responded to the boy’s annoyance by putting his mouth around his shoulder, not hard enough to pierce the skin by any measure, and letting loose a low growl as he thrust deeper. It was enough to remind Eric that his hole was Bear’s by right–and that complaining too much just meant he would get rougher. Eric relaxed, and Bear fucked, grunting and growling and snuffling until he unloaded in his hole with a roar loud enough to make the other boy’s turn in his direction. Once he’d dismounted from him, Eric pushed his plug back in, keeping all of Bear’s helpful cum in his hole. He glowered at the beast for a second, who was panting happily, and couldn’t stay mad. Bear ended up on his back, growling and grunting while the boys all gathered around him, giving him his morning belly rubs, before going down for breakfast, Bear plodding after them–crawling through the room, and then toddling down the stairs on two legs, but hands and knees were preferable for him. Later in the day, Daddy came over to check on him and make sure he was acclimating well, but Bear had never been happier. He’d found his place after all, and he’d never look back.

Patron Exclusive – The Department of Magical Corrections

There’s a new suggested story up for patrons to enjoy, based off some suggestions I received in the box and on discord from the last month. This one is a bit supersized, but it was a lot of fun to write–I might end up toying with a longer version of it at some point, but we’ll see. Here’s a sample for everyone who isn’t a patron–if you want to read the whole thing, you can find it here.

“Now serving number 351.”

Aiden looked down at the ticket in his hand–367–getting closer at least, this place was worse than the damn DMV. He heaved a sigh and adjusted himself on the squeaky metal chair he’d perched himself on in the waiting room. The temp in here wasn’t that hot, but he was still sweating all over, as was the norm for him now, and he adjusted some of the rolls of fat hanging off him, trying to get comfortable, but the fact was, he hadn’t been comfortable once in weeks now, ever since Jerry had cast that dang spell on him.

Jerry, having been born with no real affinity for magic what-so-ever, and no friends or family with much talent aside from a minor prestidigitation or two had never really given it much thought. Then, after college, he’d moved states for a new job, and ended up living in an apartment complex next to Damon. Damon and Jerry had hit it off, and Damon had taken to boasting about his magical ability, showing off a few spells around his place, and that was when Jerry’s wheels had starter turning.

See, Jerry had never been very happy with his body. He was rail thin and tall, and had never been able to put on much muscle. Damon, one night, talked about how he’d taken a course in transformation magic in school and aced it, showing up for the final as a buff muscle stud, and so Jerry had asked him to cast it on him. Damon had balked, and made some excuses at first–that it wasn’t exactly illegal but highly frowned upon, and that it had only been one course. Jerry had pressed the issue though, and offered him a good chunk of cash, and so Damon had relented–but the spell hadn’t quite gone as Jerry had hoped.

“Now serving number 356.”

He’d gotten bigger sure–but all of it had been fat, and there had been some other unfortunate side effects to go with it. He was so hairy now that he couldn’t even see his skin in the places where it was most thick–across his chest, down his back and in his ass crack. His beard and hair would grow almost an inch a day, forcing him to shear them off nightly, and by morning he’d have a solid bread again no matter what he did. He’d freaked out, of course, and Damon had promised to fix him, but it would take a couple of days to figure out. So Jerry was resigned to wait–until two days later, when some guys had knocked on Damon’s door and arrested him for using magic without a licence! He’d never even gone to school for any of it, apparently–he was a fraud. Jerry had followed after them, huffing and wheezing, knees aching under almost 400 pounds of flab, and asked the wizards arresting him what to do. All they’d done at first was laugh at him, Jerry dressed in some tight boxers since none of his clothes fit him, and nothing he’d ordered had shown up yet, standing in the apartment parking lot looking like a hairy beach ball. In the end, they’d told him it would probably wear off in a few weeks–but if it didn’t, he’d have to come here, to the department of magical corrections, where bad spells got sorted out by professionals.

“Now serving number 363.”

He scratched his hairy pit again, and tried to reposition himself on the metal chair. The clothes he’d bought online had ended up still being too small for him, but he’d refused to buy more, since he’d held out hope he’d be back to normal soon enough. But he hadn’t gone back to normal. He’d begged off work for a week, telling the office he was sick, but was too ashamed to tell them what was really happening. A coworker had come by to check on him, found him there, looking like a hairy, fat stranger, and freaked out–he’d gotten a call from his boss the next day that he was fired. So now he was also unemployed. Walking anywhere was exhausting, sweaty, and hurt his knees and back–and the stares. He hated the way people stared at him the most, like he was some sort of freak. The hunger too–he was hungry all the time, and while he tried to resist it the best he could, he was eating more these days than a small family–he’d weighed himself the other day and discovered he was even fatter. It wasn’t going away on its own–and so, he was here. Waiting, and hoping, someone would fix him.

“Now serving number 367.”

That was him. Jerry hauled his ass up and went to see if someone could get him out of this mess.

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Interactive: New You Resolutions 2020 (Part 8)

They stood in their small living room, the pills settling in their stomach, wondering when they were supposed to start feeling something. “Is…somethin’ supposed tah be happenin?” Kevin asked, looking around.

“Uh…I think somethin’ is man, look at yer gut,” Alex replied.

The last few months on the road hadn’t been particularly kind to Kevin’s waistline. Spending so much time on the road didn’t exactly leave him a lot of time to try and keep the shape he’d had when he was living in the city, and the constant diet of truck stop fare only made matters worse. He’d remarked a few times to Alex that he was a bit disgusted by it, but as he watched, his gut was pushing out his shirt, making it ride up, and he let out a little groan of dismay. “Nah, fuckin’ hell, I don’ wanna get fatter!”

He tried to push back against it, but nothing he did made a difference, as the weight piled on him. He’d started out around 200 pounds, and after a few minutes, and a few hastily removed clothes later, he peaked at around 350–a substantial gut hanging down over his waist, two heavy moobs where his chest had been, rolls under his arms, thighs touching, and two prominent chins under his round, puffy face.

Alex, on the other hand, was experiencing something rather different. He’d bulked up a bit since he’d started working at the garage, just from the physical labor he’d never had to do before, but this was something else entirely. Every part of him was swelling with muscle, his chest, his arms, his ass, his legs, everything. He flexed, and he could…feel the strength running through him, and looking over at Kevin, he was almost embarrassed by his good fortune–at least until he felt his cock twitch, and start to shrink. “What the hell?” he muttered, and saw that his rather average cock was indeed shrinking up into his body–until he was left with a two inch long nub, wider than it was long, with a sizable sack of balls hanging underneath it. A foreskin grew over it as well, making the whole thing seem even smaller, like it literally had slid inside his body. He looked over at Kevin, and saw that he’d hadn’t noticed his own new addition yet–the eleven inch cock swinging under his gut, with balls even larger than Kevin’s below it.

Kevin looked over at him, then down at his cock, and realized what must have happened. He reached down, and while he couldn’t see his new member, he could feel it–one hand couldn’t even reach around it, and touching it was electric. “Fuck…that’s…I ain’t felt one that big before, gotta say…”

Alex was distracted from their dick measuring by a new sensation–a body wide itch. From the look on Kevin’s face, and from his discomfort, it was clear he was feeling something similar, but the results appearing on their bodies were entirely different. Alex saw the body hair on his body–something he’d never had much of–start to spread and grow in thicker and thicker. Across his chest, down his firm muscle gut, all over his legs, over his shoulders and down his back, down his arms and onto the backs of his hands, and even on his knuckles. His face wasn’t spared either, and a heavy beard sprouted all over, growing up high on his cheeks, long enough to reach his belly. His hair grew in as well, and grew long into a heavy mane of hair. Then came the first prick, in his ears. He reached up and found two gauges in his ears, and then more and more pricks came, as heavy metal rings, bars, and pins appeared all over his body. His tiny cock and balls weren’t spared either–his cock had a massive doorknocker as a PA, almost larger than his cock was, and his balls looked like a pincushion from all the metal in them.

Kevin, in the other hand, found himself losing the body hair that he did have–and in its place, tattoos were appearing on his skin. Not particularly flattering one’s either–everything was about being a redneck, being a trucker, being a glutton, being a smoker, or being a total sex pig. The He ran one hand over his scalp, and all of the hair on his head fell away, leaving him with a perfectly smooth cueball, and his scruff from not bothering to shave the last while disappeared as well–making him seem even fatter. Tattoos appeared on his scalp now, over his ears on across the back of his head, things he’d never be able to hide, no matter how hard he tried.

But something else was happening to them–they were looking at each other, and they found themselves impossibly attracted to one another, and also incredibly horny. “Git over here, and put that giant cock in my ass, boy,” Alex said, and bent over the couch. Kevin didn’t need to be told twice, and after lubing up his tattooed cock with amble engine oil, just how Alex liked it, he rammed it into his muscular ass, and Alex nearly screamed from the size of it, but he couldn’t stop.

The last changes were finishing as they fucked, the hair all over Alex picking up a bit of grey as he grew a bit older, and Kevin’s skin softening as he lost a few years, back to his mid-twenties. Alex found himself taking charge of the scene, and Kevin was more than happy to do as he ordered, their positions in the relationship shifting slightly. Despite his small cock, Alex tended to call the shots from now on, and Kevin was more than happy to do as the older muscle mechanic told him to do.

After they both came, they pulled apart and took stock of what had happened to them, both of them horrified, and yet also turned on by their new bodies. It was Kevin who noticed the new envelope that had appeared, and handed it to Alex to tear open and read:

We hope you enjoy your new bodies you two, we think you’re a perfect match now. They do, however, come with some new resolutions to enjoy as well, of course

Alex, you resolve to get fucked or fisted at least three times a day from now on. Since your cock isn’t really good for topping anyone anymore, you’re going to become obsessed with getting as much dick, and hands, in your ass as you can.

Kevin, you resolve to become a gainer from now on. You won’t be able to get that big dick of yours hard unless your stomach is stuffed full, and the act of someone else feeding you is going to turn you on more than most anything else from now on.

Enjoy you two–you’ve made so much progress. You should be proud of yourselves!

Alex moaned, reached around, and felt his ass–he needed something else inside it, desperately. Preferably Kevin’s massive cock, man, that boy could fuck! “Come on Kev, get that cock hard again, Daddy’s ass needs another fuck.”

Kevin nodded, but then a loud grumble came from his gut, and he gripped it, surprised by the hunger that overwhelmed him in a moment. “Fuck daddy, think we could eat first? I’m starvin’.”

Alex growled a bit, annoyed that his boy’s insatiable hunger was getting in the way of his own cravings, but nodded, and ordered some pizzas for them both. First, he’d stuff his boy’s face, and then his boy would spend the rest of the night stuffing his hole. That was the way it ought to be, right? He felt like he was…forgetting something, but he had more important things to think about from now on.

Alright, that brings Alex and Kevin’s tale to a close. Let’s do one more, I think. Here’s a poll of the other three options I suggested last time. Patrons have their bonus poll over here as usual!

Interactive: New You Resolutions 2020 (Part 3)

Jim went down stairs, his first cigarette of the day already half finished, and made himself breakfast. At this point, he was devouring two pitchers of gainer shake each morning, and even that wasn’t quite enough to have him feeling totally full anymore. He was sure it was only a matter of time before the company would increase it yet again.

As he set down the second pitcher and wiped his face, he saw the envelope on the counter, which had been empty before–he was certain. He could just…ignore it, couldn’t he? But his shaking hands reached out and picked it up anyway. Inside, was another note from New You Resolutions:

Happy four month mark!
We here at New You Resolutions are so proud of you, Jim, for sticking to your resolutions this year. We’re so impressed, in fact, that we’ve decided to reward you with some new ones! First things first:
— I resolve to make some changes to my appearance. I’m going to stop cutting my beard, grow more body hair, and make myself look 20 years older.
Why don’t you head into the bathroom and get started.

Jim just stared at the note, and fought the urge to cry, or scream, or anything really. Anything other than what he did, which was finish his cigarette in a couple long draws, put it out in his kitchen ashtray, and then head into the bathroom, where he found a good chunk of his grooming supplies had been replaced. This was one of the few aspects of his life that hadn’t been touched by the last set of resolutions, and even as he gained weight, and watched his cock, balls, and tits swell and stretch, at least he could still shave, still shower, still trim his hair down. But that was over now, he realized. First, a hair growth serum that he applied all over his body–even on his back with a special applicator. It made his skin tingle, but he didn’t see any results right away. The new shampoo on the other hand…one application, and when he rinsed it out, he was horrified to see that his hair was now flecked with grey–and that his hairline had receded a few millimeters as well. The serum was applied across his face as well, and by the time he left the bathroom, a thick five o’ clock shadow had appeared across his face and double chin. His tasks completed, he headed for his office, where yet another envelope was waiting for him:

You didn’t think that was all, did you? Here’s a few more:
— I resolve to smoke cigars instead of cigarettes from now on.
— I resolve to start injecting my cock and balls with silicone, and make them as large as possible.
You’ll find everything you need right here.

Sure enough, the usual packs of cigarettes that appeared next to his keyboard were gone, replaced with a wood humidor. He opened it up, pulled out a cigar, cut it, and lit it. He inhaled right away, and coughed–the rough cigar smoke a bit much for even his seasoned lungs, but his body refused to not suck down all the smoke it could. After that, he found the silicone. That was a more delicate operation, but after an hour or so, he was done–10 ccs of silicone in his cock, and 20 ccs in his ball sack. They were swollen and tender–so much so that he couldn’t pump his cock like usual. He couldn’t even touch it really. Worried about what he would do next, he saw another envelope appear.

With your new injections, you’ll need a new way to get off too, probably. It’s time you let some other people in on your new you too, Jim.
— I resolve to train my ass with dildos until I can one at least the size of a fist.
— I resolve to start live streaming my jack off sessions over the internet and posting them on the internet.

“No…No no no…” Jim muttered to himself, but he couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t stop any of it. There was a dildo there on his desk he hadn’t noticed. It seemed…large, to him, but then, he’d never had anything in his ass before. Everything would seem large to a newbie. He lubed it up and started working it into his hole, only noticing after a few minutes that a webcam was attached to his computer, already streaming his virgin fuck to the entire internet.

Again, the months wore on, and Jim adjusted to his new commandments as best he could. The cigars were easy enough, once he got used to the stronger smoke. After a few more months, he barely recognized himself in the mirror anymore, however. The beard grew in impossibly quick with the help of the serum, and after four months, it reached the top of his substantial belly. The hair had filled in thick as well, and was just as grey as everything else. There was no doubt in his mind anymore that he was in his sixties. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d looked…young. Even the photo ID in his wallet that he’d checked a few weeks before bore his new image. His new age. His new weight, just a few pounds shy of 500 at this point, and his freakish cock and balls just looked like another misshapen blob of fat hanging off his body, until you got closer. There was so much silicone in them that he couldn’t get much sensation anymore–instead, he’d found that his ass was a much easier way to reach his orgasm requirement each day. The dildos he’d thought were so big at the beginning were now so small to him. After four months of daily training, he could take one a bit larger than his own fist without too much trouble, and riding it hard, he could bring himself to an anal orgasm easily enough. His fans…loved that. Seeing this obese, hairy, sweaty pig, chuffing on a cigar, screaming and groaning as his prostate siezed inside his ass while a massive dildo pounded into him…he hated how much he loved their attention. He was craving more though. He wanted…a real fist inside him. He wanted someone with him, he was so lonely.

Eight months into the year, there was another envelope, and Jim found that New You Resolutions had been thinking the same thing. It was time for Jim to resolve to find a partner–but who does he end up with?

Here’s the next poll! This one only has four options to it, and you can pick two of them. The public poll is below, and the patreon poll can be found over here!

Interactive: Three Word Difference (Part 7)

“Fuck it, I wish I was the big man on campus,” Timothy said. Is that what he’d wanted to say? He couldn’t quite recall, exactly, what he’d meant to come out of his mouth, but that seemed…right, mostly.

“Ah yes, that can certainly be arranged, Master,” the genie said, snapped his fingers, and Timothy felt something happening to his body. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but it also didn’t feel comfortable. It was his feet, at first–they were growing in his shoes, and it was getting uncomfortable in there, and then it really did start to hurt. He tried to undo the laces in time, but in a few moments, his feet ripped out through the sneakers entirely, and Timothy found himself face to face with his new size twenty feet, the tops covered in hair, and he just, gaped at them.

The sensation was rising higher, his legs beginning to throb and expand. Again, Timothy tried his very best to get out of his clothes, but he was growing too fast. He tore his way out of his jeans, his thighs now not only thicker, but longer as well, as he grew taller, in addition to larger in general.

“Hold…hold on, could you slow this down or something?” Timothy said, trying to get out of his shirt, but it was too tight already to come off, and in frustration, he tore in down the front as his chest expanded into two meaty pecs, the genie just holding his usual cocky smile. “I said I wanted to be the big man on campus, but I didn’t really mean it literally!”

“Oh I know Master, don’t worry, the physical changes are only part of the wish,” the genie said, and that didn’t exactly fill Timothy with confidence either. Thankfully, the changes were beginning to slow down somewhat, Timothy tearing off the rags of the clothes he’d been wearing moments before as he looked down at his new body. He was massive, easily six and a half feet tall, weighing in at over 300 pounds. Much of it was muscle, but he was…thick in other areas too, especially his gut, which was filling in last, along with plenty of body hair all over his chest, arms, and crotch. He looked over his gut and his eyes went wide–he was certainly the big man where it counted now! He gave his new, eleven inch cock a few strokes, and it hardened almost immediately, filling out to almost a foot long, thicker than a beer can–whoever he was with was going to have a hard time taking this monster, that was for sure.

“Look, this…this is too much, I don’t want to be a freak!” He turned to look at the genie, only to be captivated by the genie’s shimmering eyes, as the rest of the wish took hold of him. After all, a body like this would be wasted on a RA position–this was the body of a jock! Timothy’s mind began to drain, his studious nature replaced with a more athletic focus, his diligence replaced with a smug masculinity as well. The genie snapped his fingers again, and they weren’t standing in Timothy’s RA dorm room anymore–they were standing in Tim’s room at the nearby fraternity instead. Tim blinked a couple of times, looked around his room and grinned. “Fuck genie, this is fuckin’ crazy man! I’m a fuckin’ jock!”

He turned towards the mirror and gave a flex, admiring his new look, and already in love with it. “Fuckin’ amazing…” he said, picked up his still burning cigar, and took a long drag off of it, still working his cock. “Man, I wish my bros were big men like me! We’d be fuckin’ unstoppable on the field, man.”

The genie was already hard at work, warping Tim’s idle wish that he hadn’t really thought too hard about making. Still, the genie thought that Tim was in good shape, but he needed to start having some fun, or the genie was going to get a bit bored.

Sorry for the delay on this next chunk! Here’s your poll for the next wish. Patrons can find their bonus poll over here.