Tag: incest

Method Roleplay (Part 3)

Evan didn’t need to be told twice–he dropped to his knees on the tile of the bathroom floor, and scooted up to his daddy’s cock, still unable to believe that his young roommate from moments before had actually…become this fucking daddy of his dreams. He could smell the powerful musk rolling off him, and it was making his hard cock start to leak–he shoved his face into his daddy’s crotch and took a few deep snorts of the smell, enjoying it.

“Yeah, you like that smell don’t you boy? You want daddy’s scent all over you.”

“Fuck daddy, you know I do.”

“Pretty fuckin’ lucky that a slobby daddy like me found a nasty boy like you, ready to worship my fucking filthy body.”

“Oh…fuck daddy…”

“Perverted fuck–you want daddy to soak you down in his smelly piss? I bet a filthy boy like you would fucking love that.”

In fact, watersports had never really been much of an interest for Evan, but for this man? He…he’d probably do anything he asked him to do, without any doubts. He nodded, and after a could of moments, Brett started pissing, aiming his stream all over Evan’s face and chest–and he nearly came just from that alone. Why had he thought he wouldn’t enjoy this? Of course he fucking enjoyed this! He…he bathed in his daddy’s piss every…every chance he got, didn’t he?

He opened his mouth wide, and Brett directed the stream there, watching his boy gulp it down, stroking his cock, and grinned. “Gonna fill up that gut of yours boy. You want a big gut like daddy, don’t ya?”

Evan nodded without much thought, and kept drinking.

“Yeah, you wanna be just like your daddy, don’t you boy?” Brett said, grabbing Evan by the back of head and pulling him closer to his cock, pushing the head into his mouth as the piss slowed, “Fat, stupid, hairy, lazy, horny all day and night. Just like your daddy.”

Part of Evan was trying to push back–after all, for him, part of the pleasure of older men was the difference between them. Him–old, fat, grungy, and perverse–and him–young, slender, clean, and corruptible. But…had there been more? He had always liked the idea of an older man corrupting him, ruining him, hadn’t he? It seemed like he had, but everything was a bit fuzzy.

“Course, ya ain’t gonna be like your old man in every way, right son? Not with that little boy prick, and that hungry ass of yours. Still, I’ll keep ya plenty satisfied.”

Evan could swear something strange was happening to his cock, while he started sucking on daddy’s cock. It wasn’t growing soft, but it was getting smaller. And his hand kept brushing up against something else–his belly–but he’d been toned, hadn’t he? No–he shouldn’t be worrying about these things, he needed to focus on his daddy, and making him happy, getting him good and horny so he can fuck his boyhole, and make him scream–fuck, that’s what he needed. He’d feel better after a nice ride on daddy’s cock.

“Fuck boy–talkin’ bout it makes me fuckin’ want it. Git up and bend over the counter.”

Evan didn’t need to be told twice–he knew what happened if he ever disobeyed his daddy after all–and it wasn’t like this was an order he’d ever disobey anyway. He hauled himself up–which seemed a bit more difficult that it should have been, and daddy had to give him a hand, but he made it, turned to the counter and leaned over, facing the mirror, and he froze. That–that wasn’t him. That wasn’t his face, with the scraggly beard, overgrown hair and zitty skin. That most certainly wasn’t his body either, behind him, with that big gut hanging off him, his ass much, much wider than he remembered…or…or did he? Something didn’t seem right, but before he could sort it out, Brett, behind him, had slicked up his index and third finger with slobber and shoved them into Evan’s ass, making his boy shudder and groan, pushing back onto his daddy’s fingers.

“Oh fuck, thank you daddy…”

“You’re welcome, son. You know it’s always a pleasure for me, and you want to make me happy, don’t you?”

“Oh…Oh fuck daddy, more…more than anything!”

“Yeah, because you’re a good boy aren’t so? A total slut for your nasty father? My fucking pigboy? That what you wanna be son?”

“Oh fuck daddy, that sounds…fucking hot…”

“Fatten you up even more, open up this hole of yours, cleaning my body and drinking my fucking piss all day long?”

“Dad, get your big fuckin’ dick in my piggy hole, I can’t fuckin’ take it. Ya know I hate it when you tease me!” Evan said, grunting and snorting and shoving back on Brett’s hand, trying to get as much inside him as possible.

Brett was stroking his own cock with his free hand, and didn’t notice was it was growing again, to nearly eleven inches, so thick he couldn’t meet thumb and finger around the shaft–even with his big hands. He let a gob of drool roll off his tongue and land in his palm, which he used to coat the head of his cock–he liked it a bit dry in his boy’s hole–and then started pushing it inside. Evan suppressed a cry of pain, but he’d take it for his dad–he’d do anything for him, after all.

Where Boys Become Men (Part 10)

There were a few surprises along the way, of course. A year and a half after they’d begun their release plan, they were ushered away for an unexpected cognitive session down at the lab. Neither of them was really sure why, and when they got there, they discovered that a third subject was already strapped in, and that they both were going to join him for a session. Harry managed to pick up that the other subject was a level three who had suffered a demotion as punishment, but what that meant for them neither of them knew, until the session began, and they found themselves introduced to their father, Edgar. He was surprisingly resistant, and neither of his boys could really understand why. He would get angry suddenly, or start begging, and the memory stream would have to reset, but after a long time, he started to give in and accept these two handsome young men as his own flesh and blood. After the extended session, the three of them were escorted to a new cell–a much larger one with a king sized bed–and after a long family fuck none of them could resist, they all fell asleep in one another’s arms.

Daddy put up quite a fight for a while. He wasn’t always much help in their work simulations on the farm, and he was prone to bouts of depression–staring at himself in the mirror as he slowly aged into his 60’s, hair turning white, his body losing strength, his beard and what remained of his hair growing long and bushy. He kept trying to tell his sons that they needed to fight back. That together, they could resist and escape. In the end, daddy had undergo further cognitive sessions before he finally gave in and allowed himself to be believe, before be allowed himself to be happy with his two handsome boys.

Of course, all three of them would have bad days, on occasion. Tanner would remember something strange, get a thought in his head that he didn’t deserve this, that he was being persecuted and treated unfairly. Usually his brother could give him a rough fuck, and the pleasure would push those bad thoughts away–and over time, they dimmed and all but disappeared. Harry, on the other hand, could turn…suddenly cruel, and violent. Tanner might break something, or mess something up, and his brother would fly into a rage, beating him and fucking him until his daddy hauled him off and forced him to calm down. And of course, whenever their daddy got depressed, his two boys could cheer him up by plowing him at both ends for a couple of hours. They all could sense that they needed one another–that they’d been meant to find each other, that without this family of theirs, they’d never truly be happy.

All three of them began meeting with the head warden, to assess their fitness for release. It wasn’t too long after that, when the three of them were told that after six months of final cognitive and lifestyle work, they’d be released and could return to their family farm. All three of them were so excited that they could go home soon. None of them really knew where they were, or why they were even here, but they all knew that getting out was something to fight for. Now, in addition to cognitive sessions, filling in the last few gaps in their collective memories, they would have styling sessions as well. The two brothers had ended up looking almost like identical twins, aside from their difference in age, and the mutual styling didn’t help–giving them both shaved heads and thick beards down to their solid, hairy guts. The one thing different was their tattoos. Tanner was extremely excited when he got most of his body covered with images of pigs, since they were his favorite animal, while Harry had his arms and legs covered with an intricate motif of gears and machinery–fitting, since he was so good as a mechanic. Their daddy didn’t get much in the way of tattoos, but that was alright–he didn’t do much work on the farm anymore after all–he was there mostly to keep the family in line. He might have resisted at first, but now, family was the only thing that really mattered to Edgar–he’d die before letting something happen to his sons, or before letting one of them get any ideas in their heads about running off or leaving the farm.

At long last, nearly seven years after entering the facility, Tanner was released with his family, and driven a few miles away to their family farm. It was exactly like he remembered it, even though he also knew he’d never been there before. He ran to the pig stys immediately, excited to see all of his boars, hogs and sows. He was going to be in charge of the pigs–he could do that. That’s why he had tattoos of pigs on him, so that he wouldn’t forget what his job was, and he always had his brother to help him out if he got stuck, or if he had a machine that needed fixing. Harry always had grease on his fingers and face from tinkering with his machines, but Tanner always liked it–it made him taste sexier, when they two of them would take one of their frequent breaks from work to roll around in the dust or the mud and fuck each other’s brains out.

Every few months, their family would grow, too, as another member of their very large family was released from the facility to join their kin. It was always fun, getting to know the newcomers–what they liked, how they tasted, who they liked to fuck. They were usually cousins of Tanner’s and Harry’s, though occasionally another daddy would join the group to help keep the younger men in line. There were even a few cubs on occasion to help out with some of the easier farm work. Their roles on the farm were always clear, however, written and tattooed right on their skin, so none of them could ever forget their roles in life. They never had to want for anything, either–the facility kept them well supplied with food and other goods, and within the year, the farm was bustling and turning quite a substantial profit. Tanner, in the end, was happy. He hadn’t become the man he’d expected to be, but as he lay with his little brother at night, head nested in his musky pit, listening to the rest of his family snoring softly, he couldn’t imagine any kind of man he’d rather want to be.

Where Boys Become Men (Part 9)

He did, eventually, get led into an office with a warden he recognized, who in simple words explained to him that, as a one, his cognitive skills had been severely curtailed. “We do this to make your chances of recidivism lower.”

“Recida-what?”

“We don’t want you to get in any more trouble, Tanner. You don’t want to be in trouble, do you?”

Tanner shook his head, no, but something made him suspicious, made him feel like he’d been tricked somehow, but he couldn’t piece enough thoughts together to really form anything coherent.

“Now, why don’t we go meet your two. We’re very excited that you’re going to be helping us with a new release program, Tanner. We think this is going to be perfect for you–you’ll love it. I promise.”

“I just want to go home,” Tanner said, as he was escorted back to block C.

“You will soon. But first you have to be able to remember where your home is.”

“I know where…home is…” Tanner said, but the memory was foggy, “I think I does.”

“It’ll clear up in time,” the warden said, and opened the door to a cell. It was identical to the room he’d been in with Marcus, but someone else was in there, waiting for him. “Good morning Harry. This is Tanner–he’s going to be your one.”

“No, I don’t want a two!” Tanner said, trying to back up, “Twos are mean guys. Twos make me feel bad.”

The guards pushed him inside, and the other man approached him–and pulled Tanner into a hug. “Hey–it’s alright,” Harry said, “I’m gonna be here for you. I promise.”

“Harry will take good care of you, I know he will. He’s going to make an excellent two, aren’t you?”

Harry nodded, “Yes sir!”

“That’s good. Now, your bands will be linked from now on–Harry, I’ll let you and Tanner here get to know each other a bit, so you can have the day off from work, and an extra daily allowance.”

“Really? Thanks!” Harry said, his face sincere only because he didn’t seem capable of subterfuge. “Come on Tanner–we have the whole day for us!”

The warden left, and Tanner pulled himself away from Harry’s thick arms. He was big. But not nearly as large as Tanner was, but the idea of being under someone’s thumb again was filling him with anxiety. “Please don’t hurt me. I don’t wanna get hurt anymore.”

“Hey, it’s alright! I don’t like hurting people. I used to do that, but I don’t want to anymore,” Harry said, and stepped closer, “You smell real good, you know–you wanna have sex? We can fuck if you want. I like fucking.”

“You…you want me to choose?” Tanner asked, feeling a bit daunted by the possibility of having to decide something. He wasn’t quite sure what he wanted. “I…like sex. But I…kind of need a cigar.”

“You like cigars? I like pipes. Let’s smoke, and then fuck.”

Tanner thought that sounded like a good idea. He smiled, as Harry ordered him a pack of cigars–nicer ones than Marcus ever let him have–and after they’d both lit up and shared lungfuls of smoke for a few minutes, Harry guided Tanner’s mouth to his cock, and he got his first taste of his new two’s cum–the first taste of many more to come.

By the end of their first week together, Tanner had discovered that Harry was a very different kind of guy than Marcus had ever been. He didn’t order Tanner around as much, didn’t demand his complete submission. He was more than willing to listen, and would even take suggestions–though Tanner soon discovered that his new brain found the idea of deciding anything more difficult and terrifying than anything else. It was easier to just follow along and do what Harry told him to do–not because he had to, but…because Harry seemed to know what he was doing.

Other than that, his life was similar. The two of them would do their work in virtual reality once or twice a day, and then have the rest of their time to themselves. He noticed after a few days that the work sessions they were doing didn’t seem to be as varied as they had been with Marcus. In particular, they always took pace in the same location–a rather rundown looking farm in the middle of nowhere. The tasks were a bit more complex as well. They were taking care of virtual livestock and shoveling out manure, repairing broken down parts of the various buildings on the farms, or even fixing the trucks and tractors on occasion. Harry was the one who had to do the complex stuff like that, with Tanner fetching tools and helping him lift the heavy stuff on occasion. Taking one look at the complex mechanics of an engine made his head spin–he didn’t know how Harry could do it.

Outside of work, they fucked a lot, ate a lot, and smoked all the time. Tanner liked Harry’s pipe–the tobacco always smelled so sweet, the way it mixed with his cigar. He wanted to switch, but Harry wouldn’t let him–he said he always got so turned on, seeing tanner with a thick cigar in his mouth. The sex was more equal too. Harry did like to top–and Tanner liked to bottom–but on several occasions, usually after some pleading and begging, Harry would let Tanner fuck him as well. Beyond that, they watched a lot of porn, and a movie or two on occasion, but it was hard for Tanner to focus on a narrative. Porn was easier. There were some guys, and then they fucked–he didn’t have to try and understand a story to get what was happening. He just had to get turned on, and suck Harry’s cock.

Each week, the two of them would be escorted back to the lab for more cognitive work. Tanner was terrified the first time–he didn’t want them to make him even stupider, but when they assured him that these sessions were just to help Tanner and Harry get to know one another better, he went along willingly. As long as Harry was there too…he felt a bit safer, at least. These sessions, unlike the first one filled with painful shocks, were more like…dreams, but very vivid ones. He was always there with Harry in them, but they felt more like memories, than anything. After a couple of sessions, while chatting with the warden afterward, they finally realized why they got along so well–they were brothers! How both of them had managed to forget this fact eluded them, but knowing they were with family made them both very excited–and made their sex much hotter too.

In fact, both of them found themselves becoming obsessed with the other’s musk. All it would take was one whiff of the other’s smelly pits or ass crack to drive them make them horny–and neither of them could really stand to be apart for very long. Soon, the brothers were inseparable–never straying more than a couple of feet away from one another, knowing that as long as they were with their brother, they would never have to be alone again.

One significant change from before, however, was that neither of them was in control over their hormones any longer. Their bodies were certainly changing, but in more…subtle ways than before. Perhaps the most obvious shift was that they both were growing older–their hairlines receding, wrinkles appearing around their eyes, a few flecks of grey tinging their beards. Harry stopped around his early fifties, while Tanner looked quite a bit older, with quite a bit more grey in his beard and hair. He might be the older brother, he figured out, but Harry was the one who was always going to be in charge–just like things ought to be.

Buried Treasure (Part 3)

We got to the farm after driving for most of the day. It wasn’t the first time we’d been there by any means, but none of us had been there in quite a few years at this point. As we drove past along the road, I saw that the fields, which were usually neat and tidy, looked a bit weedy and overgrown, like no one had been paying them much mind for the last few weeks, or even longer. We turned down the road leading to the old farmhouse where Bill and Cody lived, and it looked like someone had spent a lot of time digging–there were holes and trenches everywhere in the fields, and they grew more numerous the closer we got to the house, where it looked like bombs had been dropped all over the yard. We all got out of the car together, and we could see someone digging dirt out of a hole–except it didn’t look like a person, from what I could see. Before we could get a better look, though, the front door of the house burst open and Cory ran out and headed straight for Mike, who looked to be torn between the terror I knew gripped him and his compulsion to love our cousin all the same. They embraced for a few minutes, kissing and grinding against one another, and then pulled apart. The ring was still on his finger–but now, there was a second one as well.

“Hey dad! Why don’t you get out of there and come say hello to your brother and nephews,” he shouted towards the person digging, and they stopped, shoved the shovel in the ground, and…and what came climbing out of the hole there only bore a passing resemblance to the Uncle Bill I remembered. No–this wasn’t a person, it was a fucking minotaur–eight feet tall standing upright, his entire body packed with muscle and covered with a rough hide and fur, looking at us with eyes that…I didn’t know what Cory had done to him. I didn’t understand how any of this was possible.

“I found another one Mike, just like I told you! I can fucking…see them, when I sleep. They’re in the ground here, and when I get them all, no one’s going to be able to stop me, Mike,” Cory said, and then kissed my brother for a moment, before pulling away. “Go inside–have a drink, and then get on the bed. You want me to fuck you, right? You always want my cock inside you. So go get ready, and I’ll be in right after I…show your dad and asshole brother their new assignments.”

“Cory–Cory, please…this isn’t…you,” Mike managed to say, but Cory just slapped him across the face.

“Shut up! Never speak to me like that again, you fucking know better. Now go get ready.”

Mike went inside quickly, nursing his cheek, and then Cory came over to me and my dad, Uncle Bill standing off a few paces away, unable to look us in the eye.

“My dad is a good digger–better now, after I found this one,” Cory said, pointing to the new ring I’d noticed, “But he needs help. You’re both going to be helping him out. Still–if you’re going to be little more than beasts of burden, you both might as well look the part, right?” The ring glowed, and the light shining from it enveloped us both. It…hurt. It hurt in ways I can’t even begin to describe, right down to my very core, like…like some key part of me was being ripped apart and put back together again in strange new ways. I blacked out at some point, and I awoke on the ground with a snort, Cory looming over me, grinning. “Yeah, who’s the fucking pig now, Darren?”

Looking down at myself, it was pretty clear that I was going to be the pig–boar really. He told me later that he’d rather have made me a nice soft hog, but he’d have to save that until after we’d finished working, until after…he was complete–whatever that means. My hands are human enough to handle a shovel, and…and the mud and dirt actually feel really nice on my hide, I admit it. My head’s slowed down again–even more than before–and this time it’s not because Cory is controlling me, it’s because my brain is just…dull. My dad though–fuck. He’s a fucking draft stallion now–or at least halfway to being one. Even taller than I am, though stupider, I think. He…hasn’t said a word to me or Bill since Cory changed him–I don’t know if it’s because he’s refusing to talk, or because he can’t. But for days now, all we’ve been doing, from dawn to dusk, is digging. Digging for Cory.

He’ll come out in the morning and point us to a new spot to focus on, and all three of us will attack it together. Sometimes Cory will supervise, bullwhip in hand, Mike a little ways off in the shade waiting to be used by Cory when he wants a fuck. We go hard all day, stopping only at noon for a brief lunch, and when it’s dark we stop. The three of us…we sleep in the barn. Of course, my dad and uncle…they can only sleep after a fuck, and Cory designated me as the hole…it still hurts, a lot, especially my dad’s horse cock, but even worse, I’m actually starting to…to enjoy it–their massive cocks in my ass. It’s making my piggy cock hard just thinking about it. But Mike snuck this stuff out to me, last night–a pen and paper. He can’t write–he’s too close to Cory–he’ll get caught. But me, I can still think…kind of. For the moment. Cory won’t look out here, I hope, and maybe we’ll figure out how to stop him–and whatever power is in those fucking rings of his…but he says he’s getting close to another one. He thinks we’ll find it tomorrow. God, I fucking hope not–I don’t want to know what this one will do next, but I have a feeling I’ll be finding out whether I want to or not.

It doesn’t sound like this should be the end of the story, but it is for now. I really like the direction of it, but I’m not sure where it goes! There might be a longer version someday.

Buried Treasure (Part 2)

I don’t remember much of what happened that first night. Mostly, I remember both Mike and Cory abusing me for hours. Mike…he was begging Cory to let him stop, that he was exhausted, but Cory wouldn’t let him, he would force Mike’s cock to get hard again, and force him to fuck me, or make me suck him off, or…or hit me, or whatever Cory wanted to see. Cory had his way with Mike as well, telling my brother how he’d always loved him, but that me–his stupid asshole brother–would have never let anything like their love happen, but now that I was taken care of…well, now they were going to be together, no matter what.

My only hope was that when my parents got home the next morning, there was some chance that all of this could be put right–but Cory got to them first. He’d locked me in the closet in my room, and Mike…Mike was firmly under his sway at that point. Cory…explained things to them, and from that day onward…I don’t like thinking about it, to be honest. Cory told my dad that I’d been a very, very bad boy. That I needed to be punished. Now, my dad is no slouch by any means, and he’d beat my ass quite a few times, but after that first spanking…I realized just how much he’d been pulling his punches before. Still, nothing compared to when…when he fucked me after that…my own fucking dad, shoving me down on the carpet, telling me that I deserved this, Cory watching us both while Mike sucked him off–I was an asshole, but Cory–Cory was a fucking monster.

My mom was in the kitchen, cooking–for me. These massive meals, and Cory would sit me down at the table, my dad next to me, and I would eat. I would eat like my life depended on it, because Cory had unlocked within me some…unspeakable hunger, and my dad would just watch, ridiculing me, making fun of me, warning me that if I kept this up I was going to be the fat ass around here, not Cory. The worst part, I think, was that no matter how bad things got, I…I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t cry, because I was enjoying all of it. I hated how good it felt, stuffing myself, having my dad and brother brutally fuck my hole, worshipping Cory’s body. All of it. My cock was rock hard the entire time, but I couldn’t cum–I could just leak and leak and leak, and the hornier I got, the more…I believed all of it, everything my dad and Cory and Mike were telling me. After a week…he finally gave me permission, that I could hump my father’s leg like a fucking dog, and cum that way–and I did, I fucking did cum and I licked it up afterwards, and then I thanked my dad and Cory for allowing me to humiliate myself for their pleasure.

I watched the calendar. I counted down the days. I was stupid to think anything would get better after Cory left, but things…had to, right? My parents had told the school we’d both come down with an awful flu–Cory had even gone with them to “convince” our doctor to forge a note saying so. But we couldn’t just stay here, right? Eventually Cory would have to let us go–eventually Cory would have to leave, and then…I promised myself I’d do better. I’d been wrong, I could see that now. I’d be a good person, I’d be nice to my brother. I’d be nice to everyone, if Cory would just…leave. If he’d just leave, and let everything go back to the way it was. Cory did leave, of course–but nothing went back to normal afterwards.

I…still couldn’t stop eating, no matter how hard I tried. Both Mike and my father teased me relentlessly, as my muscles began to disappear under a layer of flab. Mike kept working out, of course–he needed to keep up his physique for his boyfriend. He still raped me every night–my dad did too. I tried to tell them that they didn’t have to do this, that they could stop–but none of us could. Whatever magic Cory had inflicted on us, it wasn’t going away with him. By the time school ended, I was over 200 pounds, Mike was…well, Mike looked amazing, actually, and both our parents announced that we’d be spending the summer at our uncle’s farm out in the country. After all, we’d done a very good job helping Cory develop culture, and Uncle Bill needed some help out on the farm with a special project.

I was terrified. I begged them to resist, that they didn’t have to do this. Mike…I’ve never seen Mike like that. On the surface, he was overjoyed–desperate even, to see Cory again. But beneath that surface, he, I think, was even more terrified than I was. He didn’t sleep for days, and I’d wake up and find him rocking on his bed, just staring at the wall…and…and only a blow job could calm him down. I’d gotten very good at them, you see…and I…I liked making Mike happy. School ended, and we loaded our bags into the car and drove off with our dad, who’d decided to spend some time with his brother as well, leaving the house in our mom’s care, and we all drove off to discover what sort of fate Cory had in mind for us for the entire summer.

Buried Treasure (Part 1)

I was older, by eleven minutes. It’s hard to tell if that was why I was always the one in charge or not, but I certainly had a habit of lording it over Mike every chance I got. I got first helpings at dinner, I got to sit in the front of the car, I got the top bunk of the bed. I…It never really occurred to me that he might resent me for it. Maybe it hadn’t even crossed his mind that he should hate me for it. He was just always so easy going, you know? But I knew what I wanted to be–I wanted to play sports, and Mike came along for the ride, because as if I was going to be in control, that meant I needed to have someone to control, right? And for the longest time, that was Mike, for me.

Of course, the real reason everything went so…wrong, was Cory–our cousin. But I need to start with Mike and I, because that’s the reason everything went wrong with Cory in the first place. See, maybe I just always hated the idea that I couldn’t be alone, that Mike was always there too, shadowing me–and as much as I wanted him there, I also hated him for it, I think. So yeah, I wasn’t the nicest brother. Hell, I wasn’t the nicest guy at school, or anywhere else. I’d fuck shit up and try to pin it on Mike–I usually got caught in the end, but it was enough to remind him of what I thought of him. If he had a girlfriend and I didn’t, I tell her awful secrets about him–true or not–and get them to break up. I deserved it, I suppose is what I’m trying to say. Don’t feel too bad for me, in any case.

Cory would come to visit us in “the big city” for a few weeks each year. Our uncle wanted him to have at least a bit of exposure to culture, so when he came over, that meant our parents would cart all three of us around to museums and zoos and shit like that. Cory looked like a big dumb lug, but he was actually really smart beneath all of that fat and stupid grin and that accent of his. He was smarter than me, and that pissed me off–so I’d tease him non-stop, mostly for being fat, but also for his stupid accent. He hated me so much, but he liked Mike–and that meant I had to get Mike to play along with me, and ridicule him too. Mike always hated to do it, but he was stuck with me for the rest of the year, while Cory could get away after a couple of weeks. It was worth the trade, and even Cory could understand that.

But then came last Spring. All three of us were seventeen, juniors in high school, and I was just ready to be done and off to college already on an athletic scholarship. Cory arrives–and immediately, I can tell something is different about him. Usually when he shows up, especially the last couple of years, he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else–and I love that fucking look, because it means I have the power again. But this time, he shows up with this old ass looking ring on his finger, and when he looks at me–fuck, all I see is pure fucking anger, enough that it actually scares the wits out of me. Mike can see it too, and he looks at me, wondering what to do…or maybe who to side with. “Hey Darren, long time no see,” he says to me–the words are nice enough, but the scowl he’s throwing at me…I can’t even speak.

That first day, I dread the possibility of being alone with him. He’s planning something, but I’m pretty sure I’m safe with my parents in the house–but then, he talks to my mom and dad, suggests they go out on a date and spend the night in a hotel room…and they just up and agree with him! An hour later, it’s the three of us, alone in the house, and Cory is just smiling at me and Mike like we’re fucking mice in a trap. That ring–the way it catches the light–there’s something…wrong about it, but I can’t look away from it, and neither can Mike…and when Cory suggests that the two of us take off our shirts and start making out…it just seems like the most obvious and necessary thing in the world.

I can tell we’re both fucking scared out of our wits, but that’s not stopping us at all, and when Cory emphasizes that we need to be enjoying this, that we should look like we’ve been making out with each other in secret for years–I can actually…remember all of the times before, when we’ve done this, and we’re both moaning, and I hear Cory unzip his pants and start…jacking off while he watches us…

Soon enough, I’m on all fours while Mike is pushing his cock in my ass, Cory egging him on, telling Mike how much he hates me, how much he wants to hurt me, and how I deserve it. Telling Mike how…how much he loves Cory, how much he’s always loved Cory, and then he’s inside me–raw and unlubed. I scream in pain, but Mike doesn’t care anymore–he’s too busy making out with our cousin while he rapes my hole–and it’s clear that these two weeks are not going to be ones I’m ever going to forget in a very, very long time.

Warren’s Demons (Patreon Suggestion)

Each month, I’m going to be taking suggestions from people supporting my writing on Patreon, and turn those suggestions into stories! I might publish one or two here, but if you want to read the other ones, you can go here. Anyone giving at least a dollar can give suggestions, and see the resulting stories, and pledging $5 or $10 gets you even more exclusive content! Find out more on my page here.

I bet he won’t even recognize you, you fucking pig.

Warren got off the train, feeling his body shaking and quaking with each step down to the platform–and all he wished was that it didn’t feel…so fucking good, all of the time.

You love it piggy, you can admit it. You couldn’t stop now, even if I hadn’t made myself such a cozy nest in your little soul.

His cock had been rock hard the entire train ride, just from squeezing into the small seat with the older man beside him, knowing he was taking up too much room, that the man was disgusted by him–all he’d been able to do, or all the demon had allowed him to do, was take six trips to the bistro car, where he’d stuff himself, and then go to the bathroom to jack his cock, before returning to his seat, sweatier and heaving for breath, before the whole cycle would repeat itself. It was a nightmare, but it was no longer anything new for him.

He hadn’t always been this large–375 pounds when he’d last weighed himself, or when he’d last been forced to weigh himself. He could barely believe that just four months earlier, he’d been 160 pounds, a normal, healthy college student. He still didn’t know how it had happened, but one morning a few months before, he’d woken up in his dorm room, as usual, and there…had been a voice in his head. He’d known that it wasn’t his own, but he found himself helpless against it–if the voice told him to do something, then he would obey–and from that day forth, all the voice wanted him to do was eat. At first, if he fought, he’d be able to resist and go to class or go to the gym, but as the voice promised, these moments of rebellion were always repaid with substantial punishment. Warren, who had always been straight, found himself hungry for cock as much as he was for food. He was forced into humiliatingly ill-fitting clothes, his growing gut dropping lower and lower below the bottom of his shirt–for he was packing on pounds faster than should be humanly possible.

But now, the moment he’d been dreading most was here–he was home for the summer, where he’d be living with his dad for the next three months, and if there was one thing his father had always hated, it was fat fucks like his son had become.

I bet, when he finally does recognize you, he’s going to hate you so much. He’s going to be so disgusted by you, you won’t even be able to stop yourself from cumming in the front of those tight shorts you’re wearing…and you’re going to make sure he knows what his piggy son just did, too, aren’t you?

It wasn’t even speaking in orders or demands anymore–just the mere suggestion was enough to fill Warren’s mind with the most perverse of fantasies. Sure enough, once he’d gotten into the station with his bag, he’d seen his muscular father waiting for his slim, handsome son. Warren walked right in front of him, and he didn’t give him a second look. “Hey dad, ready to get going?” he asked, mouth a bit dry in anticipation.

The look of horror on his father’s face, at seeing his son was now over twice the size he should have been, was–true to the demon’s word–humiliating, and yet so satisfying. With a nice, loud groan, he shot a load of cum into his shorts, and then pulled his father into a hug, grinding his soft groin against him, until his father’s recoiled away from him, unable to even form words.

Needless to say, his father was furious, yelling and shouting at him the whole way home, the demon chuckling in Warren’s mind the whole time. His father told him he was utterly disgusting, that he was a shameless display of gluttony. Warren very nearly started jacking off right there, the demon urging him gently, but only the sheer horror at his father seeing him do such a thing stayed his desperate hand. His father told him Warren was going on a diet, his father was going to be supervising every meal, and he would have his son back in shape in no time–the demon just laughed, and laughed, and laughed, because the demon had other plans, that night.

Warren, awoke shortly after midnight, feeling like he was either sleepwalking or dreaming. He’d become somewhat used to this sensation–it occurred whenever the demon took full control of his body and mind, forcing Warren to become little more than a passenger in his own flesh. It happened rarely now, usually only when Warren needed severe punishment, and he began to worry.

Oh Piggy, you still think this is about you, don’t you? No–you have your father to blame for this. All of it. You were merely the first piece of a larger puzzle. Don’t worry, you’ll very much enjoy what comes next. This is going to be the summer of your piggy dreams.

The demon guided his body into his father’s room, far more stealthily and gently than his massive frame should have been capable of, and…he didn’t remember the details of what came next. He spoke these strange words in a language that seemed…impossibly complex, the words so hot they singed his lips. He swore he saw…something slip into his father’s body, causing him to stir–and then his dad got up from his bed, gave Warren a wink, got dressed and left the house, driving away in the middle of the night. Whatever it was, the demon was happy–he allowed Warren to gorge himself on whatever he could find in the house, and then Warren passed out on the couch, snoring away, until the slamming of a door, woke him with a start.

“SSoooeeeyy! Where’s my little piggy boy?”

It was his father’s voice, but it was not his father speaking. Warren only had time to heave himself up from the couch, before his father was in the room, bearing a pile of pizzas and at least ten bags from fast food joints around the city. That wasn’t the only thing different, either. He’d left the house in fairly normal clothes, but was now dressed head to toe in leather, his hair cropped short, stubble across his face, his eyes both excited and terrified. He knew that look–he’d seen it in his own eyes many times in the last few months. His father was possessed, just like him.

Yes, the deal required a friend of mine from far below. Quite sadistic and lustful, but with a gluttonous side as well. You’ll be enjoying him a lot, I promise.

His father dropped the food onto the coffee table, shoved Warren back onto the couch, and started ripping and tearing off his tight clothes until his son was naked, and then his possessed father began making out with him–kissing him, worshiping his fat body.

Yeah, look at that sick fuck–look how much he loves you now. How much he needs your fat by him. Piggy–your new daddy here is going to make sure you have everything you need from now on. Plenty of rough fucks and long feeding sessions, and loads and loads of cum for your thirsty piggy throat. We’ll feed him too–you’ll like that, won’t you? Stuffing your skinny father’s face until he’s the size you are now? Of course, by then, you’ll be well on your way to at least 700–but that excites you, doesn’t it? It’s probably all you want at this point–to be massively obese, and get fucked every day by your daddy’s big cock.

Warren had already lunged for the food, taking a hamburger for himself first, and then taking a second and shoving it in his father’s face, watching his eyes roll back in pleasure from the taste.

And when you’re both well past the point of no return? Well, then we’ll have fulfilled our bargain. And you’ll never hear from me again. You won’t be able to stop, of course, so don’t imagine you could ever get your body back. But most importantly, I don’t think your father will be bothering anyone about their weight again, any time soon, do you?

Too Clever For Your Own Good (Part 3)

Eddie woke up with a raging headache, and the nagging sense that something had gone horribly wrong. It wasn’t like the other times he’d gotten home after Pigtown, when he could remember everything from the night before–instead, he could remember almost nothing at all. The last clear memory was of him and Pete arriving at Pigtown, and…talking, but he wasn’t sure what they’d been talking about. They….gone there to look for daddies, right? No–no, they’d been the daddies, and they’d gone to get cubs! He was sure of that. He opened his eyes and rolled over, and was pleased to see that, apparently, they’d been successful, because in the bed beside him was a beautiful, chubby cub. He went to snuggle closer to the boy, only to run into him sooner than he’d expected–he woke up a bit further, enough to sit up and look down at himself, where he discovered that he, too, was as much a chubby cub as the one beside him.

“W-What? No! No, this…this isn’t right,” he said to himself, his voice too high. “This isn’t right!”

His shout woke the cub beside him, and he rolled over. As soon as he saw his face, Eddie knew who it was, even if the face was very different from his last one–it was Pete. He didn’t have his beard, just a thin, blonde goatee around his mouth, and he looked at Eddie sleepily. “Eddie, shush. You’ll wake our daddies! They’re sleeping.”

“No–Pete, this isn’t right! Don’t you remember? We were supposed to be the daddies!”

Pete rolled his eyes, and sat up, “Fuck Eddie, you’re so fucking dumb. How many times do I have to remind you? We went to Pigtown to find daddies. You just had a nightmare.”

No–No, it was real,” Eddie said, “You have to believe me.”

“No Eddie–you’re wrong. You’re always wrong. You’re the one who needs to believe me. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be some piss soaked bear, you know that? What you had, was a bad dream. You’re not a daddy, you’re just a dumb, fuck hungry cub. That’s all you’ve ever been, and all you’ll ever be. It’s a good thing you like it so much, just like I do.”

Eddie couldn’t believe him, and yet…he also knew that Pete was never wrong, even though Eddie was wrong all the time. It seemed like that should be flipped around, but his head still hurt so badly, and his thoughts refused to stay organized and focused. “No, I’m not stupid, you’re the stupid one.”

“I never said I wasn’t stupid, Eddie–just that you’re way stupider than me.”

“But–”

“It was just a dream Eddie, go back to bed.”

He wanted to deny it, he really did, but the memories were already distant and hard to grasp…just like a dream. The logic of them didn’t make any sense, just like a dream. And look at him–he wasn’t a daddy! He didn’t even want to be a daddy, did he? No–he’d always wanted to be a cub, a stupid, horny cub who wanted nothing more than to get plowed by big daddy cocks, just like…like the cocks their new daddies had. He could remember then, how Pete had brought the two college kids over to their table, how they’d become the massive, hulking, leather clad daddies of their dreams, and fucked them all night long…Or even if that hadn’t happened, it sure was hot, thinking about getting fucked–it made his short cubby cock all hard. Eddie was having a hard time remembering what he’d even been thinking about, and Pete had already laid back down, so he did too–though he was too horny to sleep. He ended up jacking off, thinking about getting fucked, until he came, and then he nodded off again.

Later in the morning, he felt like himself again, in position beside his brother on their bed, while their rough daddies lubed up their cocks behind them, ready to plow their boys holes all morning long, before stopping for some lunch, and then even more fucking.

Eddie and Pete made out the whole time, stroking their tiny cocks to several orgasms while they got fucked, and neither of them could imagine being a part of a family other than this one.

What Brothers Are For

“Fuck, it hurts! Take it out–take it out!”

“No–this will make it feel better, just stick with it.”

Biff groaned, as his brother wormed his fingers in a bit deeper. He didn’t want to admit it, but the itch…did seem to be going away a bit. He’d been feeling it ever since he’d broken up with Amy last month, this…constant, frustrating, mind numbing itch in his ass. It hadn’t been bad a first, but lately, it had been almost impossible to cope with, and he’d finally confessed to his older brother his…problem. Immediately, he’d proposed this as a possible solution, and for some reason, Biff had just gone along with it.

The pain had eased away at this point, but while he felt some relief from the itch, it was still there, just…deeper than the inch of his brother’s finger that was in there. “How’s it feel, any better?”

“Yeah…” Biff admitted, “But…it’s still there, just…deeper, I guess?”

“Oh…Well let’s try this.”

Biff didn’t have time to ask what his brother meant, before he’d pushed the head of his hard cock against Biff’s ass and started pushing it into him. He screamed at him, and tried to crawl away on the bed, but his brother grabbed him by the hips and hauled him backwards, impaling him on the shaft. The pain was there for a few minutes, but then…nothing. No itch at all! Had it really worked? “Fuck that…it’s gone,” Biff said, “You…can pull out now, I guess.”

“Nah, it’ll be back. Better just…keep scratching it for a while, right bro?”

Biff wasn’t sure, but it did feel good, having his big brother fuck him for a while. So good, in fact, his cock got hard and blew a massive wad all over the sheets beneath him, and his brother shot deep inside him as well–after all, a bit of lotion can help a itch, right? And cum…looks a bit like lotion, he told himself. Still, Biff needed nightly scratchings and lotionings from that day on, which his brother, and all of his friends, were more than happy to provide, and Biff settled into his new role as the high school whore in a few month’s time.

Source: thisutahbear

A Home of Mirrors (Part 6)

***WARNING: Violence and abuse.***

The scene Eli found, upon opening the door to his son’s chosen room, would have likely turned his stomach before. There was a surprising amount of blood on the carpet, and several parts of his son’s body didn’t seem to be arranged properly. In particular, his right arm was hanging limp at his side, as the massive brute behind him rammed his cock into his son’s ass like a piston. This all should have affected him emotionally–Eli realized this, as he took a long, steady drag from his cigar–but all he saw was a mess. An appealing one, perhaps, but so…inefficient.

“Dad? Dad! Is…what happened to you?”

Eli looked at the body of his son being fucked, but realized that wasn’t who had spoken in his voice–instead, it was the brute. He saw now, what his reflection had meant, about his son resisting.

“Shut up and fuck me, you pussy?” the young man on the floor screamed, blood flying from his mouth. “You wanna be this fuckin’ sack a shit for the rest of your life? You’re weak! Weak! Rape my fucking hole!”

“Dad, if that’s you, you have to help me, please dad, I don’t understand what’s happening–I can’t stop!” the brute looked down at his body, at his massive hands gripping his hips hard enough to leave bruises under his fingers. “This isn’t me. This isn’t me! I don’t want to be this thing!”

“You were fucking right about him–you were always right,” the other said, grinning up at Eli, “He’s such a disappointment…”

“Shut up!” Jean shouted, and fucked a bit harder, not noticing his change in pace.

“Fucking let me handle this,” Eli said, walked forward, and slid his cock into the bloody mouth, focusing on Jean, trapped in the brute’s body, matching his rhythm, slamming into his old body at the same time, feeling the body cracking and breaking a bit between them. “Jean–Boy,” Eli said, locking eyes with him, “We’re going to break you.”

“No…dad, please,” Jean said. He felt like crying, but this body, this face, didn’t seem capable of doing so.

“You want to disappoint me again? Look at this thing you were. Look at how fucking pitiful it is. That’s what you want to be, when you could be this?” Eli reached out with a gloved hand, stroking his son’s stubbly cheek, seeing him shudder.

“Fuck–Fuck you, fuck you, I fucking hate you!” Jean shouted at him, “You never fucking loved me, you never even wanted me. Nothing I wanted was ever enough for you.”

“You want your dad to love you, boy? Then quit fighting.”

Jean didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what he could do. That body, it hurt all over, everywhere. Broken ribs, missing teeth, dislocated shoulder–but this body felt so broken too. Broken in spirit, broken in mind. All he could feel was anger and rage, every other emotion seemed to have ceased existing for him, and looking at his father, looking at the man he’d resented for so fucking long, the anger was winning. He could…embrace it. He could use it. “I hate you so fucking much.”

“I know boy–I want you to hate me. I want you to hate the fucking world, and everyone in it.”

Jean tried to speak, but all that came out was a snarl, black slobber flinging from his tobacco packed lips and splattering across his father’s immaculate uniform, and he started fucking in earnest now, feeling that pain still but accepting it. Life was fucking pain, after all, and he could revel in it, couldn’t he? Eli fucked harder too, and his son came deep within his own ass, and in a flash, the thing between them hollowed out. The two thrusted forward, feeling the shell crack and crumple between them–they crushed it as they drove towards one another on their knees. Jean landed the first blow, a fist across his father’s jaw, Eli sneering up at him from the floor. “Fuck boy, that’s fucking it! Fucking bring it, you fucking pig!”

Eli got a few blows in, but even he knew there was no way he could stand against the wrath he’d just unleashed. His punches only seemed to drive Jean to new heights of rage, and when he threw Eli to the floor and jumped on a femur, snapping it with just his weight, all Eli did was laugh. The pain was nothing. What was pain but a sensation? It didn’t mean anything. Nothing seemed to mean anything to him, any longer. There was him, a consciousness. There was the other, the house itself. He served the house, and his son would too. Jean tore down his father’s pants and raped his hole, Eli urging him on, demanding he fuck him harder, be as brutal he could be, that he make his hole bleed. Jean was only too happy to comply, and as he fucked, the rage lost…focus. The anger he felt towards his father seemed to expand into a general fury at everything. He came again, struggled to standing, giddy with excitement, cock and hands rusty with blood, and saw that he meek thing he’d been had appeared there, on the other side of the glass.

He wanted to kill it. He wanted it to die, more than anything. He stomped over towards it, ready to choke it’s breath and snap it’s little neck, when his own, newly formed reflection barrelled into him, and pushed him up against the wall. “You belong to us now–you want to hurt someone? Hurt me.”

Eli watched his son and his double wrestle on the ground, biting and kissing and punching and sucking and fucking. He couldn’t move, not with his leg busted, or he’d have joined in. A figure stepped in his view, however–he looked up at himself–a new version. His uniform was no longer immaculately pressed, but looked well worn. His leather pants were now chaps, his coat a thick biker jacket, grey beard wild with a lank ponytail hanging past his neck. “Gonna have tah be a bit rough, tah match that fuck,” it said, looming over him. “Pity, I liked ya.”

The reflection planted a boot on Eli’s neck, and he bent over, stroking him off. He couldn’t breathe (or could he) but right before he passed out, he felt his cock explode, and his his boot collapsed through the neck it had been pressing down on. “Hey, you fuckin’ pigs! Daddy wants tah play too,” he said, and joined the merry brawl.