The House Made Me Gay (Finale)

Phil went to the door and unlocked it, and in came a young man, probably in his mid twenties. He was…well, he didn’t look particularly clean, for one thing. He was chubby and greasy, his clothes covered in food stains–and probably more than a few cumstains, from the shape and placement. The young man ran over to where Ethan was strapped to the chair, cigar lodged in his mouth, and he looked extremely pleased. “Fuck man, he looks so fucking good! I knew you could do it.”

“I know it can’t really replace what you lost, but I think he’ll do you just fine.”

“No way man, I think he’s even better.”

The young man’s name was Josh, and since he was eighteen, he had been in love with his father. He’d learned how to be a dirty pervert from him, sitting around all day, jacking off, swapping cum and spit and piss–and sometimes, if they got a bit drunk, even more than that. But tragically, Josh’s father had passed away–a heart attack–the year before, though he’d left his son a sizable life insurance policy. A good chunk of that was now invested in Ethan–who was going to be Josh’s replacement slobby father.

Josh ran his hands over Ethan’s massive cock, watching the older man shudder, his eyes fearful, and Josh…felt bad for a moment, but he was so turned on by the man Phil had created–and he knew that, before too long, his new daddy would love him just as much as his old one had. He went around and gave him a sniff–and wrinkled his nose. “He smells too clean still.”

“I was going to wait on that until you got here. He still needs a few more tatts before he’s really done,” Phil said, “But first–you still want those rings we talked about?”

“Oh hell yeah!” Josh said, “That sounded so hot.”

“Alright–then let’s get those in you both first.”

Phil worked quickly. With a box of matched rings, he quickly pierced both of them in the septum, in both their nipples. “That’s all we need to start, I think,” Phil said, “Why don’t you climb on and give daddy’s cock a ride boy? Then we can see how those work while I finish daddy up.”

Ethan struggled as Josh climbed up, and started lowering his ass down onto his massive cock. Josh’s first daddy had always loved opening up his son’s hole over the course of an afternoon, before sliding in his fists–but his cock had always been too small to really fuck his son. This new daddy though–he was going to be perfect in every way. Josh groaned as he felt his hole open around Ethan’s massive cock, taking it slow–but Ethan’s cum was the perfect lube now, helping stretch the boy’s hole. When he was halfway on, Phil took the cigar from Ethan’s mouth, and Josh leaned forward–Ethan heard the click of their septum piercings–and Josh kissed him, the boy’s rank mouth tasting of beer and cigarettes. He tried to pull away, but felt a tug on his nose when he did–their piercings had…merged. Josh leaned in closer, pressing their chests together, and their nipples stuck in the same way–Josh was now impaled on his cock, and latched to him, slowly sliding lower onto his massive cock, as Ethan panicked.

“Calm down now,” Phil said, as he got his tattoo needle ready again, “They come apart once you both cum. Just enjoy being close to your son, Ethan.”

“He’s not my son!” Ethan shouted through Josh’s mouth, and Phil just smiled, and got started on his arm, quickly sketching out a classic heart with “My Son” in the middle–and an arrow through it–or a cock, really, a cock spewing cum and piss down the rest of his arm. Josh could…feel this ink differently. Each little prick seemed to shift something in his mind, and as it took form…he found he could remember Josh–because Josh was…his son. His real son, and he…he loved him so much, didn’t he? Josh moaned, his ass now resting on the base of Ethan’s massive cock. “Fuck son, dadd’s so fuckin’ proud of you!” he said into Jason’s mouth between kisses. “Ride daddy’s big tool boy–I wanna see that hole gape.”

“Oh daddy…I…I missed you so much,” Josh moaned, and started sliding up and down on his new daddy’s cock, both of them kissing more passionately and Phil kept working, moving over to his other arm now. First, some lettering at the top of the shoulder– “Months Since Daddy’s Last Shower:”–and then below it, Phil started making hash marks, and after each one, Ethan started getting dirtier, and dirtier, and dirtier, as his memories of showers, of any hygiene really, faded further and further into the past. It…His son had wanted him to stop bathing, he said he wanted to see just how nasty his daddy could be. So they’d agreed on a tattoo to…to keep track. But that had been…months, no a year, no two years, no…no almost five years ago now, right? The hash marks ran down the outside of his arm, almost to his wrist–marking off four and a half years since his last shower–and Ethan stank to high heaven of musk, and smoke, and cum, and piss–but it was only driving Josh into a frenzy. With a roar, Ethan came, flooding his boy’s hole with his massive load of cum, feeling it drain out around his cock and into his lap–and that was enough for Josh to cum as well, shooting a much smaller load all over his daddy’s belly. They kept kissing for a moment, and then pulled apart–their rings separating again like magic.

“Fuck man, you…really outdid yourself. He’s fucking perfect,” Josh said to Phil, cum running down the inside of his legs. “Really…I know…I paid, but I…”

“It’s ok–what you had was special, and I’m happy I could give it to you again.”

“T-Thanks…we talked about some other stuff, can we…”

Phil laughed. It’s been a long day for your dad in that chair–why don’t you take him home for a while? When he comes in next month for his update–we can talk then, alright? I might even do those pro bono–you two are fucking hot to watch.”

Josh beamed, went over, and undid the straps holding his father to the chair, and Ethan stumbled up out of it, trying to figure out what, and who he was. Josh got him dressed in some of his filthy whities and a scummy tanktop crispy with cum, and then pulled his daddy out of the shop and to their little truck. By the time they got home to their little stinking trailer, Ethan was feeling almost normal again–that, and he was already horny as hell for his son’s hole. Josh was only too happy to ride his dad’s massive cock again of course–and by morning, neither of them could remember that their lives had ever been different from this.

Adventures of a Himbo Daddy

I’m open for commissions from now until the end of September! If you have an idea that you think would make a good short story idea like this one, you can find more details here!


Fuck, why did Nick have to go and make things so complicated? That’s what William kept asking himself every time he got home from work and climbed out of his car, and saw Nick’s bike by the garage looking like its tires need inflating, or saw Mary–his next door neighbor and Nick’s mom–working on something that he could have helped her with–as good neighbors ought to do. 

Mary and Nick had lived next door to William and his family for years now–Mary had moved in after divorcing her asshole of a husband, ditching him on the other side of the country, where he probably belonged. William was married to his wife, June, and they had two girls, but William had always wanted a son. Nick had been lonely, and hadn’t had a decent father figure in his life, so William had, well, helped out. He’d made sure that the boundary was always there between him and Mary–but she never seemed that interested in an affair anyway. This was confirmed a few years down the road, when Mary introduced him to one of her girlfriends–not that there was anything wrong with that, of course! Nick had glommed onto him something fierce though by that time, and for quite a few years, William was happy to be his neighborhood step-dad–coaching him in sports, helping him with his bike or his scooter, giving him “the guy talk” when Mary asked him to one evening. 

But things had taken a complicated turn in the last few weeks. Nick was eighteen now, heading off to college in the fall. The two of them had been alone in the garage one evening, celebrating Nick’s graduation with a beer William had slipped him, when Nick confessed something–well, two things, really. First, that he was gay. And two, that he was in love with William.

William didn’t have anything against anyone gay, and honestly, he’d sort of suspected it of Nick, since the boy had never seemed that interested in girls, but when the eighteen year old tried to move in on him…well, he’d put that down fast–though as gently as he could–and Nick had refused to speak to him since. William didn’t want to tell his mom either (or his own wife), so the wound was just sitting there and festering. They’d had plans that summer–a few weekend camping trips up into the mountains for some fishing before he left for school–but it looked like things were going to stay cool for a while. Heartbreak was a bitch sometimes, even if you weren’t the one in love.

It was a Saturday afternoon, one of the rare moments in the week where William had the house to himself, that he heard a knock on the door. He opened it up, and there, on the stoop, was a small package addressed to him–he recognized the writing as Nick’s. He looked around, but his neighbor had already vanished–so he brought the package inside, wondering what this might be all about. Hopefully nothing trying to get William to have sex with him–then he really would have to have a chat with his mom about…boundaries. He tore off the brown wrapper, opened up the box inside, and grimaced. It was, apparently, as he feared–inside the box was a pair of underwear.

He picked them up, and received an odd little shock from them as he did–he assumed it was static. They were…risque, to say the least. Electric blue, the pouch was a see through mesh, and the ass–well, he wasn’t quite sure how the three straps were supposed to work, but it looked like, well, a jockstrap, almost. A really sexy jockstrap. He wondered, for a moment, what June might think of him in it–William was almost 50, and sliding gently into a dadbod–small beer gut, flabbier arms than he’d had when he was younger, though work at the factory kept him in almost decent shape, though he had a few more aches and pains than he would have liked. His physique wasn’t nearly good enough to flaunt this thing though. Still, there was something poking at the back of his mind, a…curiosity? More of an urge. What could it hurt, really? 

He went upstairs to his bedroom, stripped down naked, and pulled them on. It took him a few tries to get his legs in the right holes, but finally he managed, and he pulled them up around his waist, and chuckled. They did not look good on him. His ass was way too flat, and his bulge…well, it wasn’t quite sizable enough to fill out the very large pouch the underwear had. But as he watched, there was another shock–this one larger, and he felt something happening. His bulge started to swell, his cock growing to eight, then nine inches long–and his balls swelling as well. He turned around and saw that his ass was inflating as well, two globes pushing out the back of the underwear, each one framed perfectly by the straps in the back, with the middle sliding between the two perfectly and resting on his crack, making him shiver. William gasped in horror–and went to pull down the underwear, only to discover he couldn’t get them off, no matter how hard he tried.

“They look good on you, Daddy, just how I hoped they would.”

William whirled around, and found himself facing Nick, standing in the doorway to his bedroom. “Nick! What the fuck are you doing in here?” Nick had a key to the house, of course, but…wait, had he planned this? “Help me get these things off, now.”

“No daddy, I don’t think so,” Nick said, and dropped the backpack he was carrying onto the floor. “See? We could have had a good thing, but not…a long term thing, I see that now. You would never leave this life of yours, not for me, not being…who you are now. But I thought–why not change you? See, my mom…she knows people. Witches. She’s one herself, actually. She loves me–and she wants me to be happy. She helped–but then, she had her own reasons I think. After all, her and June, they’ve been fucking for ages now–did you not realize that?”

William just starred at him, unable to piece together the nonsense that had just come out of Nick’s mouth. Witches? Magic? The news of his wife’s affair barely even registered to him.

“I just want us to be happy, daddy. You don’t see how miserable you are–but you could be so much better! I want you to be better, you’ll see. Show me that ass–I mean, look at it, it’s divine. A huge cock too! What guy doesn’t want a huge cock?”

“Nick…Please, please don’t do this, I don’t understand…” William was babbling now, trying to piece together everything, but it felt like the foundation of his world had been turned upside down in a moment. June having an affair? With Mary, who’s a witch? Who is helping Nick cast…some sort of spell on him? That just gave him a gigantic dick and a perfect, fuckable ass?

Wait, fuckable ass?

William shook his head, and looked at his ass again in the mirror. It was perfect. He’d…fuck it himself, if he could.

“No no no…” William said to himself, “No, get the fuck out of my house, boy!”

“I’m afraid I’m the one calling the shots around here now, daddy–you have to put on the rest of your outfit–then we’ll get you right back out of it, I promise,” Nick said with a wink.

Nick picked up the backpack, and dumped the contents out on the floor around him, being careful not to touch any of it himself. There were two pink trainers with red socks, some lycra training pants–also in pink, with a red highlight. A pink muscle tank, and finally, a pink cap. All of it looked ridiculous–like something some, well, gay muscle hunk would wear. “I am not wearing any of that shit!” William shouted at him…but already, he could feel the clothes calling to him with the same spark of energy that the underwear had on him. Already, he was thinking about it, wondering what–no, who he’d look like, wearing all of that stuff. He’d…be an entirely different person. A whole new daddy, wouldn’t he?

Nick just stood back and watched as William stepped closer to the gear on the floor, as he bent down, and took the pink muscle tee first. There was another shock–and he could feel it resonating with the underwear, calming him down somehow. Everything was fine–he…he was supposed to wear these things. They were…made for him. The muscle tee had some writing on the front, the words “Butch Muscle Daddy” written in a curly, feminine font that made the whole thing a…study in contrasts. But it was too late, he’d picked it up, his arms were pulling it over his head and down onto his body. It was a tight fit–a size too small maybe, but it worked. He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment, and again, he felt the strange shift inside him–but this time, it was much more substantial.

His fat melted away, and muscle appeared instead. A lot of muscle. The shirt went from tight, to fitting easy, to tight again a moment later, as first his fat gut dissolved and his pecs expanded, pushing the fabric out so it actually hung slightly, touching his his shrinking gut, before it too disappeared, leaving a two pack that wasn’t half bad for a old gym rat his age. He flexed, watched as his arms bulged out as well, the size from working at the factory expanding larger, and also toning from years lifting weights…and damn, he looked good. Real good. His skin darkened as well to a deep tan, even as his body hair thickened a bit, growing a little thicker and denser on his forearms, down his chest and back. After all, he wouldn’t be much of a butch daddy if he didn’t have his body hair right?

Fuck, what was he thinking? He felt like he was going insane all of a sudden! These weren’t his thoughts–this was…something else. Why had he put this thing on? He needed to take this stuff off, right now, but then he saw the bright thong tan line around his crotch, only partly hidden by his favorite underwear, and he blushed, and looked back at the pile. He…he should cover that up, shouldn’t he? He grabbed the lycra shorts, and pulled those on too–they did nothing to hide his bulge, but then, why would he ever want to hide that? He loved how all the boys–and a few of the men–at the gym ogled him when he was walking around, bulge bouncing hypnotically. They all fucking wanted him, of course, he’d want himself too, if he could have him. His thighs and calves blew up just as his upper body had, bulging against the lycra, and he rubbed his hands on the fabric, shivering, feeling his cock starting to grow. “Fuck, I love the way I look in spandex, boy,” he said. His voice…was it deeper? But it also sounded different. Sensual, almost. A light lisp, but a playful one. It could make men melt–he knew that for sure.

“Of course you do daddy. I mean, it’s most of your wardrobe after all.”

That snapped William back for a moment, and he scowled at Nick. 

“What? Go look for yourself, daddy.”

William strutted over to the closet, opened the door, and discovered that Nick was right–all of his flannel, all of his jeans, all of his workwear–it was gone. Instead, it was just…his gym clothes, well, gym clothes and his club clothes too, of course. The singlets. The little strappy numbers. The thongs for the beach and the pool. Most everything was form fitted–aside from a few tastefully clever muscle shirts like this one, and not a sleeve in sight–just a couple of hoodies for the occasional rainy jog around the neighborhood.

But these weren’t his clothes. This wasn’t his life. “Alright boy, this is all very funny, and I do look like a hot fucking muscle daddy, I know, but you’re going to put me back right now, I fucking mean it,” he said to Nick, who just smiled at him, and pointed at the rest of the clothes on the floor. 

“You can take it all off, once you put it all on.”

Nick scowled at him some more, crossed his arms, but his gaze kept flitting to the shoes, and the hat. He was…still so dang curious, he couldn’t help himself. “Fine boy, have it your way.”

He grabbed the socks and trainers–and discovered they were…big. Bigger than his feet by quite a few sizes. Still, that hadn’t mattered for the other stuff, so he doubted it would matter here. He pulled on the socks, then the shoes, and stood up–but almost lost his balance as his feet started to grow–and then he started to grow too.

William wasn’t a tall fellow–just five foot nine, a little below average. But he shot up six inches in a matter of seconds, to six foot three. Everything about him broadened–especially his shoulders–and with the new height, the muscle tee went from being a little loose around his flat stomach, to being a tight crop top, showing off his whole belly–but then, he’d bought it specifically to show it off, of course. There was just one thing left now–the hat. He picked it up, and put it on his head–but this time, it was a different sensation altogether. He felt himself…falling into his mind, but not as the new self emerging–it was his old self, an aging factory worker named William, with a wife and two kids. William was falling away from consciousness, falling deep into the recesses of his mind–not erased entirely, but he found himself in a small box, barely enough room to breathe, or to scream–and outside, Billy was blinking to life. Billy, with his big, luscious lips. Billy with his short beard dyed platinum blonde. Billy with his head shaved bald. Billy, who wasn’t too smart, but he sure was a horny daddy–he turned around and saw Nick standing there–saw his boy standing there, his lovely, lovely boy who had made him, and he swept him up into his arms, picked him up like he weighed nothing at all, squeezed him, and kissed him deeply.

“Fuck son, your naughty himbo daddy is so fucking horny…” Billy moaned. 

“Well then get out of those clothes daddy, and let’s have some fun,” Nick said into his mouth.

Billy set his boy back down, and started peeling everything off–the hat, the shoes, the socks, the shorts, the tee–but Nick stopped him before he could get to the underwear. “Leave ‘em daddy, they’re so sexy on you…”

“Oh boy, whatever you say–you know I’ll do anything for you.”

Nick pushed his daddy backwards towards the bed, and Billy toppled back onto it. Nick climbed up on top of him, grinding his crotch into his daddy’s, still unable to believe just how…perfect he was. And he was his. All his. Nick knew this daddy would do anything for him, do anything he said. He’d never disappoint him, never. He was going to be absolutely perfect.

“What do you need daddy? What’s a horny himbo like you craving?”

“Fuck son, you know I need your boy cock in my dirty daddy hole,” Billy whimpered in his deep, sensual voice, and rolled over, grabbing the lube from the bedside table, where they kept it handy. Nick squirted some on his cock, butterflies in his stomach. It was his first time having sex, and it was with his perfect daddy, and he wanted it to be good, he wanted it to be perfect. Nick slid inside, and the sensation of Billy’s tight daddy pussy was enough to nearly make him cum, and Nick froze–waiting for the need to pass.

“That’s it boy, just relax–you’re doing great,” Billy moaned, “You’re gonna make daddy feel so good boy, so good…”

He picked up the pace slowly, Billy coaching him along, just like he’d coached him in baseball, just like he’d taught him how to fix a flat on his bike, just like how he’d shown him how to plant those squash in the backyard two summers ago. He was a great teacher, and Nick was eager to learn. Fifteen minutes later, they were both covered in a sheen of sweat, and Nick was pounding his daddy’s hole rough and hard, Billy urged him on harder, and with that Nick came–and as he did, they both felt the energy burst inside them, as the spell finished around them as well, sealing them, and this new reality, into place.

Nick rolled off him, and Billy pulled him close into his arms, telling his boy what a good job he’d done, fucking his daddy for the first time, how proud of him he was, and Nick cried a bit into Billy’s thick, hairy chest while Billy just held him close. William had been sealed away while the spell was finishing, but William…wasn’t sealed off anymore. William was gone, mostly, at least on the outside. He’d never existed now, but there were still pieces of him there. He still loved Nick, so much–and he was thankful, he was surprised to find. Thankful he could really love this boy like a son, and like a lover–and educate him in that way too–make sure that Nick became the best boy he could possibly be.

“Can…can you fuck me too, daddy?” Nick asked, “I’ve, I mean, tried with some stuff before, but–you would be my first.”

Billy put a finger to Nick’s lips. “I’m pretty big boy–you’ll need some practice. I have some toys though we could start with–I think you’ll like them, and I’ll like seeing you fuck yourself–getting ready for daddy’s big tool one day.” Billy hugged him close, and then rolled out of bed, and stretched, one hand grazing the ceiling. “Come on son–how about a workout? You’re not going to get as big as me wasting the day in bed–then later, we can have some more fun, what do you say?”

Nick thought that sounded great–and so he followed daddy down into the rest of their house that the spell had built for them–a bit surprised really that it had been so…all encompassing. There was a new pool in the backyard, a big spacious kitchen, a private gym, and down in the basement–he recalled, was Daddy’s playroom, too. It was a brand new life, and neither Nick nor Billy could wait to live it.

Patreon Bonus: Father’s Day Tales

There’s a new set of short stories over on my Patreon page for supporters! If you’re already supporting me, you can go find all three of them here, and if you’d like to know more about what supporting me can get you, then you can take a look at my Patreon page! As a teaser, here’s the first story of three.


A Pipe for Daddy

“It was a deal actually, if you buy them new, it usually costs a hundred or two hundred bucks.”

“Would he want one that somebody else has smoked out of? That seems weird to me.”

Parker shrugged. “I don’t think he’ll mind, honestly. If anything, it’s a bit easier, because you have to put a lot of work into a new pipe, making sure you smoke it right the first few times, or something like that. A used one is easier, assuming it’s in good condition.”

His roommate, Robert, just looked suspicious, as usual. Pipe smoking was sort of a dying trend, Parker supposed–he only knew so much about it because his father, now widowed, smoked them all the time, and was always looking for new ones to add to his collection. Parker smoked them on occasion as well, but not with the same regularity–it was a bond they shared though, and Parker was thankful for it. He might give this one a test drive later, when Roger left for his usual date on Saturday night with some of the other guys. 

Roger did think it was weird–smoking a pipe was for crotchety old men, right? Still, if that was the strangest thing about his roommate, then that wasn’t really much to complain about. As planned, Roger took off for the evening not long after that, and Parker settled out on the balcony of their apartment–where he could smoke according to the lease–packed the pipe with his usual blend, lit it, took a draw–and coughed. The tobacco didn’t taste right in it–not like the cheap blend he usually bought. Something richer, deeper, smoother. Parker took another draw, pulling the smoke deeper than he usually did, feeling the heat suffuse him, the smoke filled up crevices in him he hadn’t known existed. He didn’t cough once, just sighed out a huge plume and sat back, content with his pipe. Yes–his pipe. He couldn’t bear the thought of giving this one away, his…favorite pipe. No–why had he even entertained the idea? He kept smoking, his head growing foggy, floating, feeling the smoke slide deeper into him…but there was nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with anything.

He stretched out, unaware that his bones were snapping and growing longer and thicker, his body inflating with muscle and fat. The hair on his head began to recede, as a thick beard grew in across his face. There was a surge of horniness that made his cock spring to life–but he did have an inkling of modesty still. He…shouldn’t smoke in the apartment, but what did he care, really? He lumbered in, pulling off his too tight clothes as he did, and gripped his rock hard, eight inch cock, thinking about…about girls? No–not…not girls. His…his boy. Yeah, his son, where was the fucker? He’d gone out–fuck! He was just going to have to nurse this for a few hours until he got back–and then that fucker was going to get it.

Roger returned later that evening, frustrated and horny. He’d hit on a few girls, but none of them had been interested, which meant it was just going to be him and his hand tonight. Roger was strikingly handsome, but tended to be a bit crude and unruly–especially towards women–and so didn’t have much luck in that arena. He opened the door to the apartment, and immediately coughed, the thick smoke inside stinging his eyes and throat. Why was there so much of it? Parker only ever smoked on the balcony, but if the scent hadn’t been the sweet scent of Daddy’s pipe smoke, he would have thought something was on fire.

Wait, Daddy’s pipe smoke? Why had he thought that? He breathed the smoke in more, unaware that his breathing was calming down, his body relaxing.

“That you boy?” a voice called out from deeper in the apartment, “About fucking time you got home–thought I was gonna have to stay up smoking half the night.”

In the doorway to the kitchen a man appeared, smoking the pipe Parker had purchased earlier, but the man was not Parker. He was massive, easily six foot six, close to 275 or even 300 pounds and full of muscle, body covered in hair, with…with a huge cock erect, and pointing right at Roger–who couldn’t tear his eyes off his daddy’s cock. 

He fought as best he could, but Daddy bent him over the kitchen table, tore down his jeans, and forced his way inside him–fucking his boy rough, just how he liked it. How they both liked it. The smoke was making it hard to think, hard to think about anything other than how horny he was for his daddy, forgetting all about those women from earlier. The only man he wanted was daddy, after all. 

The next day–Father’s day–Roger and his father, Parker, loaded themselves up into the truck together and drove across town to visit Parker’s brother–a fellow pipe smoker. He didn’t have any kids of his own, and usually got lonely–but thankfully, Roger loves his uncle’s cock as much as his daddies–or at least he would soon enough. He was surprised, at first, when the strange, massive man appeared on his doorstep with a young man, saying he was his brother, and this was his nephew–but as soon as he caught the first whiff of Parker’s smoke from the pipe, he started to…remember a bit better. Inside, the rooms full of smoke, he remembered better and better, until he was balls deep in his nephew’s hole, inhaling smoke from his brother’s mouth–it was the best father’s day the new family had had in ages.

Interactive: Hypno Time! (Finale)

Here’s the final chapter of this interactive. I’m back from vacation, and getting back into the swing of things. Later this week, I’m going to post an update on some process stuff that will have an impact on posts around here–nothing too major, but more of a clarification. I’ll have a new start to an interactive up next week!


Max fought him at the end of the school year. Told him that all of this had gone to far, told Daddy Johnny that he didn’t realize that the gun was warping him as well. Johnny was insistent–he was only giving Max what he wanted after all, what they both wanted. Max tried to run, but he didn’t get far–not with the amount of control Johnny had over him. He tried to fight, even managing to give his daddy a fat lip, which only angered Johnny more. Finally, he begged–and that was the last thing Max remembered before the gun fired, and he felt time warp around his mind again–but unlike the last few times…he could almost feel the time passing. A weekend felt like a moment, but even a week had been…noticeably longer. This time, however, it felt like days–days lost in that yellow haze, unable to do anything, or think anything, or see what was happening to him outside of himself. He had time to be terrified. Had time to wonder if Johnny was ever going to wake him back up again. Had time to wonder if he had made a mistake, had time to doubt himself, and then doubt his doubts, and then back again. Distantly, if he focused, he could…hear himself speaking, or other people speaking at him, but it was always garbled. He could almost feel himself, feel sensations, but they were so quick, more like a flicker, that he barely had time to realize something had happened, before it had already passed him by. At long last, the yellow haze lifted from him, and he came back to himself, back to the present, but all he could do was roll around on the ground in pain and confusion, as his mind tried to reconstruct what had happened to him.

“That’s it son, just take a few deep breaths, take your time. Daddy’s here for ya…”

He knew that voice. It was Johnny’s voice, more or less, but the drawl was deeper, and his breath reeked of cigars and beer even more than it had before. Or…or did it? He could remember other things now, remember…his daddy–his Pa–and…but wasn’t there something wrong with that? He hadn’t been his dad, he’d been his…his…

There was a blank there. That was new. His memory was just…gone. He could recognize the hole, he knew that there was some past there, something between him and Pa–before they were father and son…but…but that didn’t make any sense! Pa had always been his dad after all, hadn’t he? He could remember something then, remember…going somewhere familiar, a home somewhere, with a man and a woman, and Pa did something to them, made them forget Max, and…and then it was gone too. There was just Pa. Pa and…and his grandpappy, and Uncle Beau of course. They all lived here, on Pa’s farm. It had been grandpappy’s farm, but he was too old to do much with it now, so he’d given it to Pa, and Beau helped out on the farm too, of course.

He forced himself upright, or at least, he tried to. He was bigger than he should have been, bigger than he’d been before, and his physique was wildly different. Before, Pa had been…keeping him muscular, but the body he had now–while thick and strong from working on the farm all day long with Uncle Beau, was also massively fat–so fat, he had a massive, stinking apron hanging over his waist, down past his cock, even. Horrified, he hurried into the bathroom, looking at himself in the filthy mirror–his head shaved down still, scalp tanned a deep brown from hours and hours in the sun. He had even more tattoos now–tattoos everywhere, even on his face–that and a good number of piercings, including a massive, door knocker sized ring in his nose. His mouth gaped, and he saw he was missing most of his teeth now as well–whether they had rotted out, or been yanked out, he couldn’t remember clearly–but Pa…liked the feel of his boy’s gums around his cock more than teeth anyway, that he could recall.

He turned around and saw Pa clearly for the first time as well. The years–it had to have been years–had blown him up even larger, and older. He was easily over 500 pounds, with a thick, tangled beard, wearing nothing more than some filthy stained underwear around the house a size or two too small, leering at his boy and groping himself, enjoying the realization sweeping over his boy’s mind. “Decided five years oughta do it boy, get ya real good ‘n cemented in here. Wouldn’t be givin’ be anymore a that dumb talk about leavin’, like there’s anything wrong with this, right Piggy Boy?”

Something happened in his mind, when his dad said ‘Piggy Boy’. It…turned off, almost, or something else turned on. He grunted, fell onto all fours, and crawled over to him, shoving his face into his dad’s filthy groin, snuffling about for his cock, feeling his own harden in his own fat pad. Johnny just laughed, and watched his pig son start sucking on his dad’s cock, grunting like a sow in heat, and then turned around, bent over, and Max dove into his father’s nasty unwashed asscrack with the same fervor as he’d gone after his cock.

There were heavy footfalls, and a massive Beau stepped into the room from outside, sweating from the early summer heat. “Fuck bro–ya had tah pig him out right now? There’s work we gots tah do.”

“Oh shut up, Beau, and give the pig a fuck–he’ll come to his senses faster that way anyway.”

Beau nodded, unable to disobey his older brother, and started fucking the pig’s ass. Beau had been a problem that first summer, when he found out about the gun. He’d had this stupid idea that he ought to be in charge of the family–but Johnny had set his straight on that. Now he was just his stupid, muscular brother–good for farmwork, of course, but not so much for thinking. He did love the farm’s pig though, and whenever the pigboy got out of line, Beau was more than happy to get on his leathers, and give the pig a good round of punishment in the cellar.

Max came half an hour later, plugged at both ends by his father and uncle, and he was horrified at how he’d lost all control–but he also realized there was no way back for him–not now, not ever. And later that night, cleaning out his grandpa’s fat folds while the old man sat and watched TV, giggling like an idiot–he even found himself enjoying it. A week later, he couldn’t even remember much of anything else–and not only did he forget that life could be different, he didn’t want a life other than the one he had.

Interactive: Hypno Time! (Part 5)

The longer Max was in his trance, the more difficult it was to recall what had happened, right away, when he came out of it. The memories didn’t come back in a real orderly fashion, and it was hard for his mind to sort out what came first, and what came later–all of it was just…there, in his mind, from what seemed like to him, one instant to the next. It was only worse when he came out of his Spring Break trance–nine days of memories to try and grapple with in a few moments–all it did was give him a headache, and he clutched his head, trying to make sense of it.

“You doing alright, son?” a deep voice said, a voice he knew, a voice that…sounded like Johnny’s, but was gravellier, with a thicker drawl. He was afraid to look, afraid to remember what his daddy had put him through over the last week or so, but as the headache subsided, he could begin to remember pieces.

Most of what he was remembering was a farm. Johnny hadn’t told him where they were spending their vacation, just that he was looking to get out of the city, and he’d found somewhere cheap for them to reside for a week. Apparently, it was cheap because Johnny had offered Max as a workhorse for the week, at a little farm outside of town. He had seemed…straight to him in some of his memories, but then he could also recall the taste of the old man’s cock, and his ass, and…and had Johnny hypnotized him too?

He looked up at Johnny, taking him in, as he was now, as he had changed over the course of the week. He was smoking one of his cigars, as he did now nearly all the time, but his more casual western gear he’d been wearing ever since they’d started hanging out with Beau had been replaced with grubby overalls, and no shirt–showing off this thick chest and shoulders covered in greying hair. He looked to be even older now, easily in his mid fifties if not a bit more than that, and there was something else, something…he could taste, and smell, but whether it was his memories, or something in the room, he didn’t know–at least until Johnny got down and helped him sit back up–and he caught a whiff of him.

Johnny hadn’t showered all week long–or even longer than that. His usual scent of soap was gone, replaced by a rank musk that Max was not expecting–nor was he expecting his body’s reaction to it, which was to lunge into Johnny’s pit and start sniffing at him, feeling his own cock starting to swell in desire at the scent. “Yeah, that’s it son–the scent of daddy’s bringing some of those memories back?”

They’d arrived at the farm, and Johnny had hypnotized the old man, worked on him too, over the week, and before too long, the two of them were sitting on the porch, smoking and drinking while Max did the heavy work around the farm, servicing his…his daddy, and granddaddy whenever they needed it. Showers were skipped, and soon, all three of them were reveling in each other’s muskiness–and…and all of it was too damn much. He pushed past his daddy, with all the will he could muster, and ran for the bathroom. He wanted to get clean. He had to get clean, he needed to wash these memories off, wanted to…to be normal again! But when he turned on the faucet, and the water started flowing, he wasn’t ready for the fear and panic that sank into him at the sight of it, and he shut it off right away. Trying to control his breathing, he looked at himself in the mirror, and his jaw dropped at the sight of himself–naked at the moment, and he remembered what had happened a few nights before.

Johnny had gotten him his first tattoos. On one shoulder was a heart with the word daddy written inside it, in script, with an arrow through it, and across his back–he could feel it, and remember it, were the words “Daddy’s Boy.” He was hyperventilating now, and daddy came it, gave him a tight hug, his musk swallowing Max up, as he breathed in more and more, and he could feel himself…settling down.

“That’s a good boy, just relax, son. Everything is fine…” Johnny cooed in his ear, and he felt…so safe, with his daddy,  and he kissed him, and he licked him, and his daddy fucked him, and it was too late to realize he was even supposed to be in class by that afternoon, he was too focused on daddy’s needs to really care. He did make it to class the next day, but his own wardrobe had been replaced as well–now it was only overalls, and sleeveless shirts, exposing his new tattoo for all to see, daddy enjoying his embarrassment over his new mark, and told Johnny he had plans for some more over the coming weekend.

But this had gone too far, surely. He pleaded with his daddy, told him that this was too much, but daddy just scoffed at him, dragged him into the bedroom, and gave his boy a good beating for even suggesting that his daddy didn’t know what was best for him. Now, summer was approaching, and Max knew he had to try and get out before Daddy could trance him out for the entire summer–because he was worried that if that happened, there wouldn’t be a way back for either of them, ever. But summer came early–Daddy was growing restless in the city. He hated it here, wanted to be back in the country, and he wanted his son to be with him. Max begged, but Johnny put him under, and told him that, come fall, he could come back out for a while–but until then, Daddy had some work to do.


This next chunk is going to be the finale! Below, in the polls, you can see some ideas for how the ending might end up shaped. I’ll use three or four, depending on how well they all work together–some are mutually exclusive to some extent, but I’ll figure out how to work in what people want to see! You can vote for three options in the poll, and the patron bonus poll is over here as well!



Caption: I Only Fuck Dads

It was just supposed to be some harmless roleplay, or so Henry thought. The young guy was one of the hottest fuckers he’d seen in a while, and one who was available for a fuck, but when he’d looked at Henry’s page, he’d almost turned him down, telling him he was more into dads–whatever that meant. Still, he’d been open to playing, but told Henry that they’d probably have to roleplay a bit, to get him into the mood. If that meant the guy called him daddy, while Henry fucked him, then he could get behind that, he supposed–he’d been with stranger guys than that. But things…well, this is not what he’d expected, at all.

“Come on daddy, what do you want–tell me what you want!”

“I want you fuck my ass already, boy, fuck it hard–do whatever the fuck you want, just fucking change me the fuck back!” Henry felt himself say, horrified, but he couldn’t moderate the words coming out of his mouth–just like he hadn’t been able to stop the young man from…changing him. He was up on the bed on all fours, and this body–he was fat! He was fat, and hairy, and his hairline was receding, and…and the young fellow was just circling him, thinking about him, and Henry didn’t know why he didn’t just fuck him already!

“Hmm…just not quite…what I’m feeling like today. I think I know what would be hot though…tell me daddy, tell me again what you want.”

“Aww jeepers boy, I sure would like it if you would just put your big tool up in daddy’s hole back there ya know?”

That wasn’t his voice–what the fuck had happened to his voice? It was…nasally, and sounded like he was from the midwest.

“Fuck yeah–that’s better, getting me hard daddy, listening to you ask me all polite like that. That how you talk to your wife daddy? When you want to have sex with her?”

He didn’t have a wife–but…but there were these new memories, of a woman. His age–his new age, and he could…remember everything about her, fuck!

“I wonder what she would say, if she knew her polite, buttoned down, conservative husband never went bowling on Thursdays like he says, but he comes here to get fucked by my hot young cock–because that’s what he really wants. Hell, I bet you two don’t even fuck much, not with that puny thing of yours.”

“Aww no, don’t go and shrink my ding-a-ling too!” Henry said, but it was too late–his eight inch cock shrank down to three inches, buried up in his fat.

“Well, it works well enough to give you a few kids, right? You can’t be a daddy without a few boys running around, right? How old are they?”

“They’re…they’re uh, twelve, fourteen, and seventeen…oh my goodness gracious how do I even know that?”

“Oh, that’s too young…” the man said, and Henry felt his body changing again, adding another decade of life, more hair falling out and turning grey, glasses appearing on his face as his eyesight gets worse, his cock shrivelling up further, no longer able to get hard. “Yeah, your boys are 22, 24, and 27–I bet they’re handsome fuckers, aren’t they? I bet you think about them a lot, about how much you want your boys to fuck you like I fuck you.”

“Oh please boy, please put that horn stick in mah hole, you’re gettin me all riled up, ya know, talking about my boys like that…”

The man fucked him then–fucked him hard, just how Henry liked it, and he fantasized that it was his oldest son, working construction right now, that was fucking his own father, and when the boy was finished, he was a sweaty, heaving mess.

“Alright boy, you had your fun, now change me back, alright?” Henry said.

“And lose my favorite Thursday night hookup? No way! Now go on and get dressed daddy–you should get home before your wife starts to worry about you any more than she already does.”

His old life fading in his mind to a faint shadow, Henry put on his bowling shirt and slacks, and headed down to his sedan, his bowling ball, unused in years now, sitting in the passenger seat beside him. He looked at himself in the mirror, at his jowls, his glasses, his grey mustache…all the lies he’d told over the years to keep his marriage together. What other choice did he have? At least…he had this, once a week. Maybe that would be enough–or maybe the boy up there was only getting started on his new project.

Caption: Bodysitting for my Great Uncle

My great uncle is…well, he’s an eccentric, you might say. He likes to call himself an inventor, and judging by the massive house where he lives, and all the gadgets he has, I suppose it wouldn’t be too far off. He also never married, devoting all of his time to his work–whatever it is that he does. I was home from college, and he offered me a chance to keep an eye on his house while he was on vacation–but when I got there, he revealed that he had a more…peculiar offer in mind.

He wanted to switch bodies with me, for the length of his vacation! It sounded ridiculous and impossible, but he…did it, and changed us back right away, but fuck, it was trippy. He offered me…more money than I’d ever thought I could have in exchange for borrowing my body for a couple of weeks. I said yes, because why the fuck wouldn’t you? Besides, this house is a palace. I wish I could live here all the time, the place is amazing. I think I’ll go lounge around and watch TV, eat some junk–after all, his body is already going to shit, what does it matter really what I do to it?


It’s towards the end of the first week…and I think something weird is going on. I…I’m having a hard time focusing on things in the house, and it feels like I’m sleeping a lot. More than I should be, I guess. My great uncle told me that I might feel a bit weird, being in his body for so long–and he does feel old. His body aches like hell, even just sitting on the couch…but I feel like I lose hours in front of the TV, and I can’t even remember what I was watching. The one part of me that’s working just fine is my cock–I mean, my uncle’s cock. I’m jacking off all the damn time, it seems like, and I don’t know why I’m so damn horny.


Fuck, that was a sexy fucking video, love watching that old fuck get plowed by both of those boys at once. Makes me so fucking horny, I could blow all over again, just thinking about it. Can’t believe all of this nasty fucking porn my grandson has at his place, all of these old men getting fucked by boys like him, I wonder…wait, that’s…not right, I keep thinking that, but he’s in my body, right?

Fuck, where’d that dildo go? I…never knew how good it could feel, getting fucked, until I got drunk that night, I think, and woke up with that thing inside me, but maybe it’s just this hole that does it. Makes my old cock so damn hard, starts me leaking like nothing else. I mean, nothing besides my grandson’s hot fucking cock. He gets home in a few days, and fuck, I hope he plows my old hole into the fucking ground.


“Yeah, you like that cock in your ass, don’t you you old nasty pervert?”

“Oh fuck boy, fuck! Yeah, fuck your granddaddy with that big cock of yours.”

“Yeah, it is my cock, isn’t it? Sure seems like I know how to use it better than you ever did, isn’t that right?”

“Whatever you say boy, just don’t stop…You’re making my old sloppy hole tingle…”

“Yeah, feels real nice–you like being an old pervert, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck, more than anything.”

“Tell me–it we could, say, swap bodies, would you even want to? Be young and hot again?”

“And never get fucked by my grandson’s cock again? Hell no! Now shut up and fuck me boy, you keep slowing down when you talk.”