My Town (Part 6)

My other hand grabbed him by the jaw, three leather fingers finding their way into his mouth, forcing it open, running over his teeth, sloppy with his spit. They…wanted him. They wanted him bad, at least as badly as I did, as I always had. Without even noticing it, one glove had opened the fly of my jeans, hauled out my now larger cock, and was giving it a few strokes–and I felt it growing even larger now, nearly eight inches. “What do you think bro? Think your little brother is man enough for you?”

I didn’t give him a chance to answer, and plunged my cock into his mouth, forcing it down his throat, listening to his gag and moan, my gloves tugging at his clothes, ripping at them, hungry for the skin underneath. They knew what I wanted him to be–they knew what he deserved. My brother thought that strength was everything–that if he was bigger than everyone else, that meant that he got to be in charge. Well I was going to show him that size isn’t everything–that just because you’re the most massive, most brutish looking fucker in a room, doesn’t mean shit when I can get my gloves on you.

Both of my hands sweep across his back, and I watch it explode with muscle, his shoulders, neck and delts all swelling in size. He barely notices–his focus is entirely on my cock–right where it should be. From there, my gloves grope his chest, feeling his pecs grow thick and meaty, the nipples like bolts jutting from them. Hands on his arms, and his biceps, triceps–even his forearms swell, his hands doubling in size, easily large, and strong enough, to palm a watermelon. The hair comes next, a thick pelt forming all over his body, but most heavily on his shoulders, arms, back and chest, like a proper brute should have, in my opinion. I shove him over so he falls onto his back, straddle his wide chest, and kiss him, shoving smoke into his mouth, feeding it to him, and push my cigar in there once I’m done–he starts chuffing away at it, like a good little pig. “Alright big boy, bend over. Let me see how that ass is.”

Without even thinking to question it, he struts over to the bed–which is quite a sight, really, given how top heavy he’s become in the last few minutes. He manages to keep himself upright, however, and bends over, my gloves diving right for his ass, swelling both cheeks into thick globes, then down onto his thighs and calves, swelling them larger, the bones thickening and growing longer, pushing him up to a new height of nearly seven feet tall. Then, his feet–rubbing them both until they’re well over size twenty…and then I can’t resist it anymore. I dive in, licking at his ass for a minute, listening to him groan and open up slightly, and then slam my cock in, nice and rough.

While I fuck him, the gloves turn their attention to me–swelling me up in the same fashion as my brother, though not nearly as large. I can see myself aging again as well–a bit more white a grey sprinkled in my chest hair and beard…but I don’t care, and I light myself a second cigar, since my brother is well occupied with my first one. I’m a smoking hot daddy bear at this point, and this muscle pig of a brother is moaning and begging for me to fuck him harder, and harder…but I have one more thing before I cum. I roll him over, throw his legs up in the air, and keep fucking him–but I can see his cock now as well. It was always quite large–one of his best qualities, really. But now, at his new size, it actually looks quite small–but not nearly small enough. I grip it in one gloved hand–both cock and balls, and I squeeze, feeling them contract and shrink as I apply more and more pressure, until there’s barely any left of either–just an inch long micro cock, buried in the massive forest of my brother’s pubic bush, and a tiny, tight sack with two balls smaller than grapes. Looking at him, at this massive fucker with a miniscule cock, moaning for me to fuck him harder, and deeper around my thick cigar–it’s too much. I explode, deep inside him with a shout, but keep fucking until I fall out soft. It’s done, mostly. The physical side, at least. His head is mostly still there–I want him to see what I made him, before I turn him into the man he’s going to be from now on.

He keeps sucking down smoke, and finally sits up, staring down at himself, his hairy body, and his missing cock–he stares at me blankly until he finally puts everything together, and his eyes go wide in terror. “You…Bro, what the fuck…what the fuckin’ hell did you fuckin’ do to me?”

I smile at him, and light a second cigar for myself. “Trust me Kyle, it’s going to be so much better this way, for us both.”

“But I’m…I’m fuckin’ huge, bro! I…and I can’t…fuck, I…I’m so fuckin; horny bro, I’m so…” His hand doesn’t go to his cock, though–it goes to his ass, two fingers sliding inside himself while he groans, eyes wide, trying to understand why he just did that, and why he wants to keep doing it, and hell, if my cock isn’t twitching already, hungry and desperate for another round with him. “I…Fuck, I wanna get fucked again bro, ya turned me into a fuckin’ faggot!” He pulled his hand free, and I could see how much it pained him–he wanted it in there, he needed something in there. His eyes were narrowing–I could see the gears turning, as he went back to his anger, the shock and horror beginning to fade. He knew how big he was–and even if I was larger too, he knew he was still bigger than I was. And if he was bigger than me, then he could take me–or so he thought.

My Town (Part 5)

Kyle, Todd’s older brother, had always been a brute. Even when they were kids, long before Todd had realized anything about his sexuality, he had known that, in his family’s house, there was only one true law of power, and that was sheer physical might. Perhaps, had his brother not been such a violent bully, things would have turned out differently for everyone, but as it was, he had never once allowed Todd to forget that Kyle was the one with the might. That the only person who could usurp him was their father, and so, when they were alone, he had no choice but to obey, or face the consequences.

Now that he was an adult, his violence had served his less successfully. He worked in construction, one of the few jobs around here where he could exercise his might, and still hadn’t settled down, despite being nearly thirty, and had instead settled for a series of relationships with young women he’d attempted to beat into submission. If he’d been smarter about it, he likely could have controlled them with it, like a normal abuser, but for Kyle, it was only violence that mattered–even Todd, as a child, had recognized his brother didn’t have the instinct for control, only power. It was a shame really–with more mindful violence, in this town, in this world, he could have been someone.

Instead, he lived in a trailer park, respected only because he remained nominally within their father’s orbit. He worked, and he worked out, and he worked over whatever bitch he happened to be seeing at the moment, who hadn’t yet wised up to his brother’s abusive games, or who had been lured back by his relative charm and occasional stability. The next morning, Todd relaxed around his father’s home, still a bit hungover from the rush of the day before, taking in the changes of his own body the gloves had brought on. It was a curse, allegedly, but to Todd it was a curse he was more than happy to live with. For the first time, looking in the mirror, he saw a man looking back at him, a man he’d always pictured in his head, a body he’d always desired but never been able to achieve. He was horny too, and the gloves were more than happy to encourage that, stroking him gently, but as hard as he tried to push himself over the edge, the gloves held back, merely milking his longer cock to near orgasm. They knew what he had in mind, they knew what they really wanted. Frustrated, he threw on some clothes, now a bit ill-fitting, climbed in his father’s truck and decided to stalk his brother for a bit, until their meeting in the afternoon.

He found him working on some road work downtown, and took up a spot in a small restaurant across the way where he could observe. He was…big, but not as big as he had always seemed in his memories. In fact, he seemed…almost disappointingly small after all of these years–maybe five foot ten, two hundred and twenty pounds. Thick, certainly, but he’d gone a bit to pot as well over the years. In any case, he was no longer the ripped jock stalking him in the hallways of his childhood. Still, the years hadn’t bruised his ego, apparently–he could see how he interacted with everyone on the site, the air of assumed superiority, it had him gritting his teeth, gloves aching to touch and beckon and work on him, but he waited.

He followed him home to his trailer, gave him a few minutes to settle, and then pulled up and parked, taking a moment to light himself a cigar in the cab, the smoke helping to settle his eagerness, and then he got out and walked up to the door. It took Kyle a few moments to answer, and it was clear, when he saw the stranger on the steps, he had absolutely no clue who Todd was–then again, Todd wouldn’t have recognized himself either.

“Who the fuck are you? I ain’t buying anything,” Kyle said, “Get off my property if you don’t want your face beaten in.”

It was a classic line, really. How many times had he said that to Todd when they were kids?

“Come on now Kyle, no time for a brother?” Todd said, and while it took him a couple of seconds to click the gears together, he saw recognition light up his face.

“Holy shit, Todd? What the…you fucking faggot, what the fuck are you even doing back here? Dad’s gonna have a fit if he sees you, you fuck, I oughta kick your fucking ass for showing up here, you piece of shit…”

“Trust me bro, Dad has much bigger worries at the moment–I’m here to see you.”

Todd could see the thought forming in Kyle’s mind, the violence short circuiting the rest of his reasoning, but before he could threaten and then follow through, he reached out one gloved hand and laid it on his brother’s shoulder, and saw his eyes glaze slightly.

“Bro, let me in–we need to have a conversation, don’t you think?”

Kyle found himself nodding, and when Todd gave him a gentle push back, he stepped away from the doorway and let Todd step into the trailer, the screen door shutting behind him.

“How…what the fuck was that?” Kyle asked, shaking his head.

“You shouldn’t worry too much about that,” Todd said, taking a long drag off his cigar and blowing the smoke into the trailer’s air. “Or I suppose, you can worry about that if you want, but trust me Kyle, pretty soon, you won’t be worrying about much of anything anymore.”

He was getting ready to strike. Todd could see all of his tells. He let the fist come flying, and he caught it in one gloves hand, gently, and Kyle let off a groan, his knees giving way in sudden pleasure. “I don’t think you’ll be trying that anymore, bro. We need to find a better way for you to…express yourself, don’t you think? Your fists have done enough talking for a lifetime. I want to hear some moans from now on.”

My Town (Part 4)

His dad left the stall and looked at his new figure and clothes in the grungy mirror, and true to his son’s words…it didn’t bother him at all. He knew it should, and he felt humiliated, but his small cock was rock hard in his jeans at the sight of the big bellied trucker he’d become in less than a minute.

“Something is still missing, I think–ah, of course! An old fuck like you, I bet you’d be smoking something like this,” Todd said, and again, his glove whipped out a small curved pipe, which he slipped into the pocket of his vest, “That’s for later–for now, why don’t we go have some real fun?” Todd said, with one hand on his father’s shoulder, he leaned in and started whispering into his dad’s ear, a grin twisting on his face as he did. All Edwin could do was listen, his jaw dropping in horror at what his son was telling him to do–at what his son was going to make him do–but by the time Todd was finished speaking…he wanted to do it too, and he groped his puny dicklet a couple of times, hiked the ass of his grimy jeans up, turned around and left the bathroom.

He surveyed the bar for a moment–it was much busier than it had been when he and his son had arrived, so many more…options. For a moment he looked at a table of rough construction workers enjoying some beers after work, but his eyes drew him to what he knew he wanted–what his son knew he wanted too. The thicket of bikers who had come in an hour ago, now quite drunk and clustered around the pool table after a long day’s ride. They were no group of hobbyists either–and looking at the grizzled fuckers over there, Edwin knew what he wanted–what he needed, and walked over to them.

Todd just watched as his father waded into the gang, and begged biker after biker to drag him into the bathroom and fuck his dirty trucker hole, loud enough so the whole bar could hear what was going on. The bikers didn’t know what to think about it, for a moment, and just ignored him, but Edwin didn’t like that, so he pushed things further, and started groping them, egging them on. That, it turned out, was a bad idea. Two bikers grabbed him under the arms and hauled him out the front door, the rest of the clientele giving them plenty of room as the rest of the gang followed them out, ready to give the faggot a proper beating in the parking lot. After they left, the bar picked up where things left off, and Todd slipped out, taking a spot on the porch of the bar, where he could see the ring of bikers form around his father, see him fall to his knees and beg for their cocks again, helplessly, terrified out of his mind, and then the first punch connected with his face.

The punch–the gloves shivered, and unable to stop himself, they took control of Todd’s hands, forcing open the front of his pants, one glove stroking his cock roughly, the other tugging at his balls, pulling them away from his body hard enough that he could almost hear the skin stretching. He deserved this, he thought, watching the bikers beat his father, his now faggot father, and still he was begging for a fuck–but he couldn’t stop. Todd knew he could do nothing–if he did nothing, the bikers would probably kill him, but that was better than his father deserved, it wasn’t…enough. The hand on his sack pulled away, took the cigar from his mouth, and whistled, loud and piercing, and every biker froze in place, turning to the stranger on the porch of the bar.

“Gentlemen,” Todd said, stepping down, feeling…taller. More imposing. Even a bit…older. His cock was still out, and he was still stroking it with his free hand, but none of the bikers seemed to mind this. “No, not gentlemen, nothing gentle about you lot, right?”

The bikers all laughed. It sounded forced, compelled from their lips.

“This has been a good show, I must say, but don’t you think it would be better for everyone if you simply gave the faggot what it wants? After all, what’s a gay biker gang without a sex slave pig to haul around with you, right?”

The bikers felt a wave pass through them. It left them feeling uneasy, and unsure of themselves–Todd could tell it wasn’t quite enough. He made eye contact with his father, eyes swollen, bloody mouth, a tooth lost on the ground beside him, and Edwin knew what he needed to do, what he had to say. “Please, I’m just a stupid faggot trucker. I’m worthless, with a tiny fuckin’ dick. I was made…to serve you, please let me be your biker bitch.”

“Come on guys, if one of you rough fucks hasn’t got a hardon, hearing that, then kill the pig.”

As it turned out, none of them were soft. With a few whoops, they headed for their bikes parked along the front of the bar, a couple dragging Edwin over and tossing him into a bitch seat. He glanced over at his son, eyes wide with terror, but Todd just sneered at him. “Don’t worry dad, you’ll be back home in a few days, probably.”

Edwin tried to shout something, but it was lost over the sound of the roaring engines. The gang took off, leaving Todd in the dust and smoke of his cigar, and with one more rough tug, his cock exploded all over the ground in front of him, his body shuddering. He fell to his knees, out of breath, mind heady with the rush of power he’d just wielded, to bend the wills of so many men, all at once–he’d known it would be possible, but the act of doing it was something else entirely. It was a minute before he could stand again, and when he did, he looked different. Taller by a few inches, shoulders wider, chest inflated with some muscle, a bit of grey in his beard. He went back to his father’s car and climbed in–he needed some sleep, and then, in the morning, he’d pay his brother a long overdue visit.

My Town (Part 3)

“Calm down dad–no one is going to notice a thing, as long as you don’t moan as loudly as you did when I fucked back at home,” Todd whispered in his ear, one gloved hand massaging the crotch of his slacks.

The two of them had spent the afternoon and early evening getting acquainted. Todd had finished his cigar while his father sucked him off nice and slow, and then he’d fucked him on his bed and made sure Edwin was nice and loud with the window’s open–enough that the neighbors outside might have possibly heard the commotion. So far, Todd had done his best to keep the gloves from altering his father too much, but the exciting afternoon had left a few effects. The most notable one, by far, was the beard Edwin was sporting across his face and neck–thick and bushy, and a bit greyer than the hair on his head. Still, a little weight there, a little hair there–he’d beared up nicely. By the time Todd was finished, he almost looked like someone he wanted to fuck.

Still, Todd wasn’t planning on keeping his dad as a personal slut. Sure, that had been his fantasy for years, but with his new gloves…well, he’d decided that he could set my sights a bit higher than that now. Still, his dad, and the rest of this fucking town, needed to be taught a lesson–a hard one. Well–really Todd was just going to make them live by their own rule–that appearance and presentation are everything. If Todd was going to hurt his father like he deserved to be hurt…well, he was going to have to suffer a few changes right?

But for now, they were relaxing for a moment, just a couple of guys in a booth at the trucker bar on the outskirts of town, the one his dad had always warned him about. It wasn’t quite a rowdy as it had been twenty years back, but it still carried a reputation. “Drink your beer, dad–look like you’re enjoying yourself a bit.”

Edwin picked up the mug and drank about half of it, and then set it back down. “Look, Todd, I’m sorry, alright? But enough is enough. I am your father, and I demand you get your hand off of my crotch.”

Todd just smiled, “Dad, I still don’t think you quite realize the level of shit you’re in–why don’t we go ahead and head into the bathroom for a bit?”

“Please, not here.”

“Calm down–we’ll do it wherever I fucking want, but this is going to be…different.”

The glove pointed to the bathroom, and his dad was compelled to go. Todd waited a beat, and then followed him. The bar was lively, and no one was paying them much mind. Inside the bathroom, he told his dad to go into the handicap stall, and then the glove ordered the other two guys present out of the room. They obeyed…but weren’t quite sure why they did. Then, Todd slipped into the stall with him.

He took a moment to look his dad over. Aside from the beard, and a bit of weight on his midsection, he was still the upstanding elder of the community he’d always believed he was. Todd had even made him dress in the same outfit he’d come home in, the waist of the khakis a bit uncomfortable, but otherwise untouched. “Now dad, you were always so ashamed of me, and my lisp, and my size. You had me marked as a faggot from the age of then–the fact that I like cock was always incidental. If I’d been more of a man, I could have at least hidden it, right?”

Edwin’s silence at the accusation was all the confirmation he needed.

“Well dad–since you think appearances matter so much, I think it’s time you tried on a new look.”

With both hands, he reached out and took hold of the suit coat his father had on, gave it a tug, and they both felt it squirm in his hands. A moment later, it wasn’t a coat anymore, but a ragged looking leather vest.

“How…how did you do that?”

“It’s easy, if you know the trick,” Todd said, ran a hand over the shirt, and the buttons disappeared, the front coming together seamlessly until it was just a grubby looking t-shirt, emblazoned with the logo of some forgotten truck stop, and the pants were next, turning into a pair of old jeans, the belt unlatching, and slinging over his shoulders into a set of suspenders. Lastly, he bent down and tugged at his shoelaces, watching as they grew up his ankles into a set of grubby work boots, caked with mud. “See? A brand new wardrobe in ten seconds flat,” Todd said, “but it’s what’s underneath that counts too, right?”

Todd grabbed hold of his father’s crotch with one hand, kneading his cock again, and this time Edwin felt a shift as his six inch cock began to retract, halving in size as his balls pulled up tight. His son’s other hand stroked his stomach, and it began to round out, becoming a hefty beach ball of a gut, stretching the t-shirt to the limit, the words of the logo a bit warped by the size, his father forced to lean back a bit to counter it. Todd came close, pressing his own stomach to his dad’s new belly, reached around, and palmed his ass, feeling it grow out as well, filling out the seat of his new jeans. Lastly, he mussed up his father’s hair, watching it grow out a bit and turn lanky, his beard tangled, and with a snap of his fingers a trucker cap appeared in one hand, and he rested it on his father’s head.

“Go on dad, have a look–but I think you’ll like what you see,” Todd said, stroking his father’s cheek with one hand.”

The Carnival (Part 3)

I already announced that the winner of the first poll was the cow option, and the victor of the runoff poll, by two votes, was the gator option! Hope you enjoy!

“Cowboy!” the audience shouted, and Adam let out a moo of surprise, as his cock and balls began to inflate in front of the entire audience. It was clear he was trying to say something, or object, but the only sounds he could make were low and mooing, and as his genitals inflated, his cock bulging out and filling out with his balls until they were more udder than cock, two short horns pushing out from his forehead, and a thick brass ring appearing in his nose with a click of Dr. Watch’s fingers.

He gave a tug on the ring, and Adam stumbled forward, the intellect draining from his eyes as the rest of his body shifted, losing muscle and gaining fat, especially around the hips, until he had a thick, wide ass, his hands and feet growing together into heavy, useless hooves that he stared at dumbly, certain that something was wrong with him, but no longer smart enough to understand what was even happening to him. The one thing the cowboy was certain of, was that his udder was full–so full that it hurt.

With another moo, he gripped it with his hoof-like hands, hefting it up and letting it all–the slapping sound it made against his thighs was loud enough to be heard throughout the entire auditorium. “Now Mr. Addison, you said you were a farmer, right?” Dr. Watch said to one of the townsfolk.

A man in a suit stepped forward, but when he stepped and nodded, “Yes sir, been on a farm all my life!” The audience laughed–he’d gone up on the stage a banker, but accounts were now the furthest thing from his mind.

“Well, why don’t you help out our cow here. You can milk a cow, can’t you?”

Mr. Addison nodded, Dr. Watch handed him a bucket, and he started squeezing the cowboy’s new udder, and Adam moaned in delight, humping his wide hips as Mr/ Addsion squeezed out his fresh manmilk into the bucket, the whole audience either shrieking in disgust or laughing at the absurdity of it. When the bucket was full, Dr. Watch told Mr. Addison to take a taste–and as he guzzled it–he too began to inflate, the suit bulging against his growing waistline until it could hold no more, and it shredded to pieces, leaving Mr. Addison as naked as the cowboy next to him, weighing almost 400 pounds, licking his milky lips.

Roger had watched all of this in horror, and had tried to move off the stage, but his feet were rooted in place. “One more animal everyone–what do we have to say to Roger here?”

“Gatorboy!”

Roger shuddered, and the first thing everyone noticed was his skin. It dried out immediately, and started to flake and turn into scales, his nails growing into long claws. His frame bulked up substantially, filling out with muscle as his neck disappeared, his face broadening and growing out into a short snout, his mouth filling in with tight rows of sharp fangs, his eyes turning yellow. His legs bowed slightly as a thick tail grew out above his ass, but he ended up taller than he’d been to begin with, and as his human mind faded, a hunter’s instinct took over, and he gazed hungrily over at the cow still full of milk next to him.

However, before he could lunge and go for the kill, someone else slammed into him–the third member of the townsfolk, dressed in only a pair of muddy overalls, tackled him with a whoop and a holler, got him into a headlock and rolled with him all over the stage, to the thrill of the audience.

“See? And you all thought I was crazy for giving our hypnotized hillbilly here a penchant for gator wrestling! Look at Billy Bob go–think he’s gonna break that big ol’ gator, or is the gator gonna break him?”

In the end, Billy Bob came out of top, Dr. Watch handed him a collar, and he forced it around Roger’s neck. Immediately, the gatorboy grew calm, and the big hillbilly hauled his cock free of the muddy overalls, and slid it into the gator’s ass, the lizard humping the stage, his own slimy, reptillian member sliding free of its sheath to rub against the wood of the stage, until it spewed a load of cum in a spectacular climax, along with Adam and Jared still sucking his own cock in a grand finale–and then the lights went down, and the stage was empty.

The frat bros, none of them quite able to believe what they’d just witnessed, hurried out of the tent. Jared, Adam, and Roger were nowhere to be seen…and somehow the group knew that they needed some time to be debriefed by Dr. Watch before they could be released back into the wild again. They would catch up with the group later in the carnival, maybe, or they’d find them back at the house the next morning.

In the meantime, the remainder of the group ended up splitting into two smaller groups, who each headed in a different direction. One group of three headed for the tunnel of love ride, thinking they’d seen some sorority girls head in that direction, while the other three went into the funhouse across from it, to see what they might find in there.

This next poll is going to be a short one! We’ll get to both locations eventually, but which would you like to see first?

The Twitter Poll!

The Patron Poll!

This poll is only live for a day!

The Carnival (Part 2)

Animal Impersonations won both polls, but a decent number wanted some X rated content, so why don’t we make some dirty animals?

*SNAP*

Jared shook his head, and looked around, trying to remember where he was, and what he was doing. The lights were hot on him, and he could see the audience laid out in front of him, and most everyone was snickering, and a few were laughing outright–especially the other frat brothers in the audience. He looked next to him, and Dr. Watch was standing there, smiling kindly at him. “Well Jared, what do you think now? Think hypnosis is real?” he asked.

Jared felt like his memories were falling into line now, and he remembered what had happened, how Dr. Watch had told him he’d be able to hypnotise him just by touching his forehead with a single finger. It had been absurd, of course–not only was hypnotism complete bullshit, but even if it was possible, there was no way something so simplistic would work on him. Sure enough, it hadn’t worked! He could remember now, it was just a moment ago that Dr. Watch had tapped his forehead, and just like he’d thought, nothing had happened at all. “No way, I told you, I can’t be hypnotized–especially not with a finger.”

The whole audience erupted in laughter–and Jared smirked, assuming they were all laughing at the failure of a hypnotist, but the grin didn’t fade from Dr. Watch’s face…and a slight sense of doubt began to creep into his mind.

“Well Jared, then maybe you could explain why you aren’t wearing any clothes?”

Jared’s eyes went wide, and he looked down at himself, the audience still roaring with laughter, and sure enough–he was completely naked. He…he had been wearing clothes, hadn’t he? He looked around, but they were nowhere to be seen on the stage. How could that be possible? There had to be some reason, right? Like it had been waiting for the question, a reason came to him immediately, and as ridiculous as it sounded to him, he also knew, with complete certainty, that it was the naked truth. “Because…because I’m an animal, and…animals don’t wear clothes, of course.”

The room erupted with even more laughter, and even though Jared was certain it was perfectly reasonable, he felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. Something about this was wrong. He could remember wearing clothes, certainly, but he also knew that him, an animal, wearing clothes was a preposterous thing to even consider. The dissonance was giving him a headache–all he wanted to do was get off the stage, and get some fresh air, but he couldn’t budge either of his feet an inch.

“Ah, well that certainly makes sense to me!” Dr. Watch said, rolling his eyes to the audience, “But be more specific for me, Jared–what kind of animal are you?”

He knew this. He was…human, right? No–no, that wasn’t right, a voice said immediately. Humans were animals, sure, but they wore clothes. He was…different, but what was he again? He should know, the answer was in his head, but locked away somewhere he couldn’t reach. “I…don’t remember.”

“Well, we can help remind you, can’t we everyone?” Dr. Watch said, “Alright everyone, on the count of three. One…Two…Three!”

“Monkeyboy!” the audience screamed at him, and Jared felt something inside him take over. He fell forward, catching himself with his hands, crouched over awkwardly, and he started grunting and howling like a monkey, one hand scratching his armpit as he did. Inside his head, Jared was horrified at himself, but it…it was just who he was! What choice did he have? He tried to ask Dr. Watch what was wrong with him, but he couldn’t get any words out, and Dr. Watch just patted him on the head, and sushed him.

“Now now, Monkeyboy–I know what you need. Ollie, would you come up please?” One of the folk from the town stepped forward, eyes glazed over. He looked to be a trucker, was was none too clean–but he was fully clothed. “Now Ollie, you have a couple of bananas don’t you? We talked about that earlier.”

Ollie nodded, and the entire audience started cackling.

“Well, the Monkeyboy over here is hungry–would you do me a favor and feed him your bananas?”

Ollie nodded, then went back, sat down in his chair, and started undoing his boots. Jared was confused, but when he pulled off his sock, he understood–because where Ollie’s foot should be, there was just the most delicious looking banana he’d ever seen. He loped over, grunting the whole way, got down and started licking at Ollie’s bananas, confused by the flavor a bit, while the entire audience just watched the burly frat brother slather his tongue all over Ollie’s filthy feet. But the laughter subsided somewhat, as people began to notice that something about Jared seemed…strange. The hair on his body was thicker somehow, and his uncomfortable stoop looked a bit more natural, suddenly, like his arms had gotten longer, or his legs shorter, or a bit of both.

“That’s very good, Monkeyboy,” Dr. Watch said, “But you have a favorite banana of your own, don’t you?”

Jared nodded, the hair closing in around his face, eyes a bit rounder, lips pushed out a bit, and he bent over, the audience gasped as Jared curled around and began sucking on his own cock, right in front of the entire room. The rest of the frat in particular were horrified watching this, but none of them could get up from their seats. The hypnotist swung his watch, catching the light and sending the flickers back into the room, watching the audience settle in and begin laughing and clapping again. Dr. Watch had never lost an audience, after all, and he wasn’t about to lose this one.

He left Jared to his favorite banana, and called forward Adam and Roger, both of whom were also naked, and still dazed. He snapped his fingers, and the two woke up, looking confused. “Alright everyone, why don’t we help out our other two animals here? You all know what to say, don’t you?”

So, what sorts of animals should Roger and Adam become? No pups or pigs though, sorry, I’d rather try some animals I don’t write as often.

Cow-boy
Gator-boy
Donkey-boy
Rat-Boy

I added a fourth option, since there will be two winners to this poll!

Here’s the public twitter poll!

Here’s the supporter only Patreon poll!

Emptied Out (Part 9)

Greg opened the door, and there, in the midst of the flithy laundry, on a mattress that reeked of piss, was the fattest, nastiest fucker Leonard had ever seen–but he couldn’t deny it, it was Nathan–it was his son. He rolled over from where he was snacking and looked at the door, “Oh hey! Ya must be daddy’s friends he said were comin’ o’er. Ya…wanna come play with me?”

“Hawt damn boy! That’s one sexy fuckin’ pig, it’ll be a fuckin’ honor tah pump a load in his dirty hole.”

“No! Nathan, Nathan, you have to listen to me, you have to get out of here!”

“Nah boy, just stay right there, and get that ass ready fer some redneck fuckin’.”

“Both of you shut up for a second,” Greg said, and both Leo and Leonard felt their lips knot up, while Greg stepped inside and went to Nate on the bed, pulling a used condom from his pocket. “I’ve been saving this for you, Nate–the little bit I saved of Nathan back before you left, one load of cum you pumped out for me on the couch before Biff arrived. It isn’t much, so be careful with it. Biff told me how fast you lost the rest, so maybe now you understand how important this is a little better.”

Nate didn’t quite know what Greg was talking about, but he did love cum, and so he guzzled down the chilled cum from the condom, and when it hit his guts, Nathan shuddered in horror. He was so fucking filthy, and all the filth he’d done with Biff over the last two weeks…he looked over at his dad in the doorway, or the nasty fucking redneck who had been his dad, and still was his dad…sort of.

“Now, why don’t the two of you spend the afternoon together? Just so you know, if you can refrain from any…funny business, both of you will be back in control, eventually. Somehow, I don’t think you’ll be able to manage, right Leo?”

“Fuckin’ right! I’m fuckin’ that fuckin’ piggy, and gettin’ mah big, nasty fuckin’ redneck cock, just like Master promised me!”

He lunged for the bed, and all Leonard could do was tip him off balance so he missed, and landed among the filthy laundry around the bed. He did his best to keep control of his body–but Leo was horny, and fucking strong willed. It made sense, after all–he was the brains, and Leonard was just the balls. Nathan stayed on the bed, paralyzed. He didn’t know what to do, or even what to believe. He hadn’t had any Nathan in him in so long, the clarity, and the shame, was…horrifying. He didn’t really hate himself this much, did he? He grabbed for another fag and lit it, holding it in shaking fingers, trying to sort out what was real, and what wasn’t. He looked for Greg, but he’d slipped from the room–maybe. With all the control over them that he had, maybe they just couldn’t see him.

Leo smacked himself in the junk. “Ya ain’t in fuckin’ charge no more. Master gave this body tah me, ‘n I happen tah fuckin’ like it! Now, yer gonna get blown intah yer son’s hole, ‘n there ain’t nothin’ ya can do tah stop me.” Leo lunged for the bed again, but Leonard pulled him back, both of them screaming and shouting at each other, but Leo had another idea. Instead of going for the bed, he instead hauled his cock out of his jeans–or Leonard’s cock, since that was the one thing Master hadn’t changed about him yet–and stroked it slowly. Caught off guard, Leonard moaned in sudden, unexpected pleasure. His cock had never felt like that before, but then again, he’d never been entirely in his cock and balls before, had he? Leo just kept stroking, and Leonard lost focus, Leo whispering sweet things to him, telling him he was going to make him feel so good, and he made it onto the bed.

Leonard knew he should stop him, pull him back, but…but he didn’t want Leo to stop touching him. Nathan put up a bit of a struggle, but while Leo was fat, he had much more muscle than Nathan did at this point. “No…no, I…let my dad go, let us go, please let us go…” he said.

Leo slapped him–hard. Harder than Biff had ever hit him, and Nathan just sat on the bed, stunned. “Pig, I can fuck ya real gentle ‘n nice like, right here, right now, ‘n have ya squealin’ in delight, or I can go git the rope outta mah truck, hogtie ya, beat ya, ‘n ream yer ass raw. I don’t care how I gits this load in ya, but it’s goin’ in. Now–ya gonna go easy like?” Nathan looked at the filthy roughneck leering over him, and rolled over, presenting his hole to him. Leo…was kind of sexy, and he…he didn’t know what he wanted anymore. He didn’t want to be this, and he didn’t want to think about this anymore–it was too tiring, the horror of it all. It had been so easy just…feeling good, and when Leo slipped the head of Leonard’s cock into Nathan’s ass–it felt like the answer to all of his problems.

Emptied Out (Part 4)

Nathan woke up to something being thrown in his face–something that reeked. He pushed it away with a gag, and found the passenger side door open, and Biff standing there. The things he’d given him were clothes–or rather, just a pair of underwear. A set of briefs, heavily stained in the front and the back. “Put ‘em on boy, ‘n let’s git ya inside.”

“I’m not wearing these,” he said, holding them away from him.

“All I got boy–’n if ya don’t wanna wear ‘em, ya’ll just have tah cross the complex ass out.”

“Fuck, give me a fag,” Nathan said, irritated, “I need a smoke to think.”

“Put the briefs on, and I’ll let you light up.”

Nathan growled in frustration, swung his legs out, and struggled into the briefs. They were tight on him–clearly they were Biff’s, but he wore a size larger than daddy did at this point. Nathan shook his head, pushing the memory away. It wasn’t his bulk, this wasn’t real. He stood up, feeling the whities riding up his sweaty asscrack. He considered making a break for it, but he had no idea where he was, and a morbidly obese man running around in his underwear wasn’t going to make him any friends here. He took the fag Biff gave him, relieved for smoke, and was thinking clearer when they got to his tiny, filthy apartment–and the stench of the briefs was nothing compared to the smell inside.

There were pizza boxes and fast food bags littered everywhere, and nothing looked like it had been cleaned in ages. Furniture was minimal, with most of the space dedicated to a couch and a large TV, with a computer off to the side–hopefully with an internet connection. It would be his best chance to get help, probably, unless he could get to a phone. Biff tore the rest of the rags off of him, leaving him in just the loaned whities, his massive gut hanging out now with no obstruction.

“Git in the bathroom, boy, that mop has gotta go.”

“What?” Nathan asked.

“The hair, son. Don’t ya want a good buzz like yer daddy?” Biff said, running a hand over his head. “Ya will soon enough, so let’s git ya buzzed–or else no fags, and no soda, either.”

Thinking about the soda made his gut growl. How could he possibly still be hungry after everything he’d eaten today? Still, his gut wasn’t lying, and his fag was already half gone. It was just hair–best to cooperate for now, and see if he got an opportunity to use the computer later.

The bathroom was somehow even dirtier than the rest of the apartment. Biff told him to stand in the shower, and from the layer of fine hair coating the tub, it was clear it hadn’t been used for a proper shower in quite a while. Biff grabbed the clippers by the sink, and started attacking Nathan’s hair–the blades hadn’t been oiled in a while, making them hot to the touch, and they kept pulling at his hair, but before long Biff had his hair razored down to nothing, just a layer of fuzz. He ran his hand over Nathan’s head, and saw the boy shiver in the whities he was wearing.

“Feel good, boy?”

“Y-yeah, it kind of does…”

“Yeah, ain’t nothin’ quite like a freshly buzzed head,” Biff said, rubbing it slowly, standing closer to him so their bellies pressed together. Nathan had expected it to feel disgusting, but it was comfortable, and…familiar somehow. “Lookin’ real good Nate, gotta say–real happy with ya so far.”

“My name isn’t Nate, don’t call me that.”

“Best just get used to it boy–ya ain’t gonna be gettin’ away from me, not now.” He took a drag off his cigarette, leaned in and fed Nathan his smoke, and the two of them passing it back and forth a few times, until Nathan got a bit lightheaded, feeling his cock pressing hard against his gut. Biff stepped into the tub with him, pushing more of his fat against him, and pinning him to the wall, one hand holding his cigarette, taking long drags of smoke to feed Nathan, his other hand reaching under his boy’s huge gut and rubbing his cock through his crusty whities. Nathan was trying to keep himself calm, but everytime he started to push away, Biff would shove him back, and rub his hand over his shaved skull, making him shiver and buck against his hand. “Go on boy, do it,” Biff whispered to him, “Shoot a big load right intah yer daddy’s filthy whities, I wanna see how wet ya can get em, ya fat fuckin’ pig.”

None of that should have made him horny, but Nathan lost control, rutting harder against Biff’s hand, feeling himself fast approaching the point of no return. The cum spilled out of him, and he felt the comfortable blankness washing back over him, Biff plucking the cigarette from between his sagging lips before it fell onto their guts and burned them.

“Yeah, such a good boy for daddy, Nate–we’re gonna have you all empty here soon, don’t you worry about a thing. Now come on, I wanna show ya the thing ya love tah do most in the world with daddy, even more than smokin’ fags ‘n stuffin’ that pig face a yers.”

Emptied Out (Part 3)

“Hot smoker, just like yer daddy,” Biff said, and pushed some smoke in Nathan’s direction. It…smelled different, coming from him. Hotter, somehow, and he blew some of it back, his hand slipping back down to his crotch, thinking about how horny he always got, trading smoke with his daddy like a couple of perverts. Biff noticed, but didn’t say anything, just kept pushing smoke in his direction, watching Nathan slowly lose focus, groping himself more and more, his hand slipping into his still damp khakis to stroke himself properly. He finished his second cigarette, and came back to himself for a bit, pulling his hand away, but he only lasted half an hour before asking daddy for another.

“Sorry boy. Ya want another cigarette from me, you’re gonna have to shoot a load. That, or ya gotta give me some good road head.”

The idea of getting anywhere near Biff’s cock horrified him, and he wasn’t about to jack off again…but he needed a cigarette. Biff kept pushing smoke in his direction, and it was maddening, and hot and sexy, and his hand slipped back down. What harm was there in…one little cum shot? It wasn’t so bad, right? Biff kept sending him smoke, and watched him give in, stroking faster now, until after a couple of minutes he shot again, and just like before, Nathan went slack, eyes glazed over and mouth hanging open.

“Emptied yerself out again, Nate?”

“Yes daddy…” he muttered.

Biff took the next exit off the highway into a small town, “Good, I was gettin’ hungry. Let’s get us both filled back up, eh?”

There was a fast food joint right by the off ramp, and he pulled into the drive through, and the guy taking the order thought it was a joke at first, Biff ordered so much food. It took a little while to get everything, but before too long, they were parked, with bags and bags of burgers and fries–with plenty of soda to wash it down. Biff pulled out a burger and put it to Nate’s mouth. “Go on Nate–feed that big ol’ gut a yers.” Nate mindlessly took a bite, chewing slowly and swallowing. Biff grabbed one of his slack hands and put it on the burger to hold it. “Faster boy. Ya eat like a fuckin’ pig. Don’t care how messy ya get, ya just need it in ya.”

Nate started eating faster now, and Biff kept encouraging him, reminding him to take plenty of drinks of soda–after all, he loved soft drinks, and anything sweet. He was hungry, always hungry, even hungrier than his dad, usually. Hell, he was fatter than his dad was even–he could remember how proud he was the day his gut sagged down even lower than his dad’s did, couldn’t he? Nate kept trying to agree, but his mouth was too busy shoveling in food for any of it to be intelligible. He ate and ate, his gut expanding at a rapid pace as he did, the buttons on his shirt popping off one by one, the undershirt riding up as his gut dropped between his thighs, his pants stretched to the limit as he grew larger and larger. He became more animated, slowly, Nathan coming back to the fore as he filled himself back up, but he didn’t stop eating–he couldn’t stop eating, sucking down his soda, and sucking down on his cigarette, of course. He was such a good son, cumming for his daddy, and now he got his reward–another smoke, and a massive fast food meal to boot! It wasn’t until he finished most of the food off–his dad having eaten a sizable portion as well, that he leaned back, let off a belch, and realized just how much bigger he’d become–and realized that they’d stopped moving.

Nathan fumbled with the door handle, and nearly fell out of the van. As he did, he felt a massive shudder in his fat as his khakis, and underwear, finally burst from the pressure, and he was left standing in the parking lot, in full view of the people in the restaurant, naked from the waist down, a massive, hairy apron hanging free…and he didn’t know what to do. He needed to get help, but not like this. He couldn’t possibly let anyone see him like this!

“Son, git yer fat ass back in the damn van!” Biff shouted at him, and Nathan struggled to resist.

“You…you aren’t my dad! This…this can’t be real, I’m just imagining this. I can’t…actually be this big,” he muttered, hefting his gut and letting it fall, feeling it thwack against his thick thighs. “I mean…I eat lots, but…but not like this.”

“Boy, git back in the van.”

“No. No, I’m not…going anywhere else with you.”

Biff sighed, “Boy, git back in the van, and we’ll go ‘round again ‘n git ya some shakes. Ya are still hungry, ain’t ya? One a every flavor–enough tah git ya home.”

HIs gut rumbled like an earthquake, and his mouth watered, thinking about it. Fuck, he was…hungry. So hungry, even though he’d just eaten so much food, he could barely believe it was still inside him. “But…but I…”

“Son, what ya think’s gonna happen when those folk call the cops on ya? Think Master’s gonna be happy when he’s gotta bail yer fat ass outta jail? Probably just leave ya in there with ‘em, ‘n make ya some jailbitch. Now git in the car, ‘n let’s git dessert.”

He was right–there was nothing he could do looking like this–without even any clothes to wear. That…and dessert sounded really damn good. He got back in, surprised by how hard it was maneuvering his huge bulk, and Biff drove him back through, ordering a shake in every flavor as promised–twelve in total–and then headed back for the highway while Nathan sucked down shake after shake, and cigarette after cigarette to go with them. He managed well enough for the rest of the ride at least–though Biff kept ripping off the worst farts Nathan had ever smelled in his life, laughing after every one he made, and refusing to roll the windows down. Thankfully the food made him sleepy, and not too long after finishing the last shake, he passed out for a while, snoring and belching away, Biff reaching over to grope his boy’s massive fat belly occasionally, and then drove into the city, arriving at the small apartment complex where he lived not too long after that, in the evening.

Emptied Out (Part 2)

“Yes daddy,” Nathan said, and Biff put the cigarette between his lips for him, Nathan holding it and smoking it while Biff lit a second one for himself.

“That’s good boy, breathe it in deep, just like I taught ya years ago. Two packs a day, just like yer dad, getting those teeth of yers good ‘n yellow. Yau reek a smoke all the time, and ya love it–makes ya horny as hell, right son?”

Nathan nodded, and kept smoking–and as he did, Greg noticed a few things change about him. For one, the stench of smoke surrounded him, like it did Greg, and he noticed that his teeth, and his fingers, were tinged yellow, just like they would be for a man who’d been smoking for ages. “Lookin’ good Daddy, now finish ‘em up.”

Biff nodded, “Alright boy, keep breathing in all that smoke, and after your next inhale, you’re going to feel completely full again, got it?”

Nate nodded slowly, took a deep breath, and as he did, his eyes refocused, and Nathan came back to himself, exhaled and coughed, unable to understand why he was smoking a cigarette. “What…what the fuck did you do to me?” he said to Greg.

“Well, everytime you cum now, Nathan, you’re going to shoot out a big chunk of yourself–of this self, all that brain and will and memories of being an uptight little prick–and your daddy here is going to get to fill you back up with much, much better stuff–anything he wants, in fact. After five or six loads, you won’t even exist anymore–you’ll just be Nate, and Nate is going to be everything Biff here could want in a nasty, perverse, disgusting pigson in the whole world. How’s that fag taste, anyway?”

Nathan looked down at the cigarette between his fingers, and realized he’d been smoking it this whole time like it was the most natural thing in the world. “No–no, I’m not a smoker, I…” Nathan said, but as he did, it felt wrong. He was a smoker. He fucking loved to smoke, and he…he loved his daddy’s smoke most of all. He looked over at Biff, and before, where he’d seen a complete stranger, he now felt an odd…affinity, or attraction. Definitely an attraction. Looking at him, smoking that unfiltered cigarette, he just wanted to kiss him and suck that smoke right from his lungs…he shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts, but he didn’t know where his real self ended and this new, alien person began. “You can’t do this–you fucking can’t make this happen.”

“Oh, I’m very capable, Nathan, trust me,” Greg said, “But all you have to do is not cum anymore, and there’s nothing I can do–think you can control yourself around your new daddy? Now, why don’t you two head home? I’ll come check on you in a couple of weeks, and if there’s any trace of you left, Nathan, then I’ll fix you right back–I promise. Still, I bet Biff will have you all gone here in a day, and all that’ll be left is his good son Nate.”

Nathan didn’t know how to process any of that, and just looked back and forth, cigarette hanging from his lips, wondering when they would let him in on the joke, but the punchline never came. Biff just ordered him into the van waiting outside, and Nathan’s feet marched him out to it and into the passenger seat, while Biff shared a passionate kiss with Greg on the steps, thanked his boy and master again for the privilege of raising and owning a son of his own, before getting in the driver seat and heading off, getting on the highway and heading for the city about five hours away.

The whole time, Nathan kept smoking. He’d never smoked a cigarette in his life, but every time he took it out and tried to resist inhaling from it, his brain would start screaming, and wouldn’t stop until he took another drag. He finished it in a few minutes, the air on the van cloudy and thick from them hotboxing–and he was forced to ask Biff, his daddy, for another cigarette, though he insisted he call it a fag, before Biff would give him another one, and a lighter to use.

Nathan smoked that one slower, and with the addiction satisfied, he sized up the man who had essentially kidnapped him, and wondered how he might try and escape. It was clear that Greg had some control over him, but Greg wasn’t here–that meant if he could be clever enough, he might be able to get away and get help. Certainly Biff wasn’t in any shape to fight him–he was…huge. He had to be close to 400 pounds, with a massive apron of fat hanging out the bottom of the filthy wifebeater he was wearing, stained with ash and who knew what else. He was hairy, and stank, and looked like this was the first time he’d been outside in ages. Nathan noticed, after he’d been staring at him for a few minutes, that his hand was in his crotch, groping his cock, and he tore his hand away, horrified that looking at this disgusting man was making him horny.

Biff noticed, and grinned around his cigarette. “Go ahead boy–it’s healthy fer a perverted boy like ya are tah jack off lookin’ at yer daddy.”

He felt his hand drawn back to his crotch, but he resisted the urge–while Biff had some power over him, it wasn’t nearly as urgent as Greg’s control had been earlier. He could beat this, if he kept his head about him. He didn’t reply, and averted his eyes, trying to focus on nothing in particular, and he ended up thinking about his cigarette, and how…good it tasted. He pushed out a couple of thick plumes from his nose, like Biff had earlier, and felt that horny twinge return again.