Tag: incest

House Arrest (Part 4)

Zack knew, from his time dealing with the criminal justice system, that the most important thing you can do, especially in a system of solitary confinement, in create a routine for yourself, and stick to it. First things first, he smashed the TV as soon as the DVD had finished playing, and then set out to explore the house a bit further, making sure he hadn’t missed anything he might be able to use as leverage, or a weapon. The kitchen was more empty than he’d first imagined, lacking even basic appliances, or a set of knives. The closest he had to a weapon was a plastic butter knife. His exploration eventually brought him back to the living room, where he discovered that both the vase he’d smashed, and the TV, had miraculously righted and repaired themselves. The vase even had sitting in it the flowers he’d been given, and water had been added.

“Hello?” he called out, certain there had to have been someone in the house with him for something like this to occur, and he started turning the place upside down, looking for any sort of clue, but each time he ransacked a room, left, and returned, it had been put back into order. He kept this up for a while, but then gave up–either someone was here he wouldn’t be able to find, or this was some other power of that strange program Sidney had at his disposal. Still, he wouldn’t watch the TV, he had no interest in knowing what was happening to his son, he wouldn’t fall for that bait. Instead, he found one of the bare rooms and started working out, running through a calisthenics routine he’d kept when he was younger and in better shape than his current, middle aged self. Still, the day was beginning to turn to evening, and he was getting a bit hungry, when the doorbell rang again.

He went down and answered the door, to find the same young man as before with a cart laden with groceries. “Here you are, sir,” he said, and pushed the cart inside, “I’ll be back tomorrow with another load for you. Is there anything else I can do for you today? Do you require some company?”

Zack didn’t engage with him; he just accepted the groceries and shut the door in the young man’s face. In the kitchen, the hunger was becoming substantial, but as he dug through the bags, all he could find in them was candy, junk food, a twelve pack of beer and frozen meals for the microwave–hardly the sort of food he usually ate, but his stomach told him otherwise. He started stuffing himself, disturbed at his own behavior and hunger, but unable to quite get a handle on it. Was he really back to normal? Was Sidney still fucking with him somehow?

The food arrived every day, and no matter how much arrived, Zack would have eaten all of it by the time the young man arrived with the next load. He would try to resist the hunger and focus on exercising instead, but it was difficult to manage, especially after drinking twelve beers a day for a week straight. Drunk and full and depressed, he more than once found himself on the couch, watching Sidney have sex with his son in one body or another…masturbating.

The next weekend with his son arrived, and he was dreading it–he went to sleep Thursday, only to wake up in a dog house in Sidney’s backyard, naked, covered with fur from head to toe but still human–aside from his cock, which had become fully canine, and his missing balls. He spent the weekend as his son’s loyal pet, unable to disobey him, unable to not enjoy the feeling of his son fucking his doggy hole, while Sidney fucked his snout. Still…it was a relief to simply be…with people. He’d never really realized how terrible loneliness could be, and when he woke up back in the house next door on Monday, he was relieved to be back in his own body, but he couldn’t bare to think that this was all his life would be for the foreseeable future.

It was difficult to pinpoint when, exactly, Zack broke. It didn’t help when, after a couple of months in the house, cigars started appearing with his daily load of groceries, and like everything else, he found himself compelled to consume those as well. His realization, the week after, of how much his body had changed living here drove him deeper into depression–his muscles now well hidden beneath a flabby body, his face shrouded in a scruffy beard and his hair growing out with a massive bald patch for the first time in years. His hair shouldn’t have been able to grow that fast, but he also shouldn’t have gained close to 100 pounds in two months. Obviously, Sidney was still manipulating him from afar. He spent all day drunk, lying on the couch, smoking, jacking off, watching Sidney and his son fuck each other’s brains out…wishing…wishing he had someone, wishing he wasn’t so alone.

“Would you…stay with me for a bit?” he finally asked the young man who delivered his food to him each day. “I’m lonely.”

“I’d be happy to!” the young man said, “The only thing we’ll have to discuss is payment.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Master has already created a payment system for you to use. It’s simple, really. Each time you use me, then Master gets to change something about your past, and your reality, permanently.”

Zack hauled the groceries inside and slammed the door in the young man’s face, but he honestly didn’t know how long he’d be able to hold out on his own like this. He opened the door a minute later, and the young man was still on the doorstep, looking smug. “Shall I come in, and we can discuss your payment options?”

The End for now, but we might follow Zack, Sidney and Evan a bit more in the future.

House Arrest (Part 3)

He was back. Zack looked around him, looked down at himself. He was back to himself, back to who he was supposed to be, dressed in the clothes he’d shown up in and everything. He looked around at the unfamiliar room he was standing in–the foyer of some large house–but it wasn’t Sidney’s house. He…knew that. He knew that because…because he could remember everything from the entire weekend of hell he’d just been put through. All weekend as that musclebound fuckbuddy, doing everything–and everyone–Sidney had told him to do. He’d…he’d fucked his son. His son had fucked him. Sure, they hadn’t been in their right minds, or in their right bodies, but still, what the fuck had he just done?

Saturday and Sunday had been spent with Sidney engaging with several business partners of his, who’d all been avoiding coming by as long as Zack had been watching the place. And he’d…serviced them all. He’d wanted to, it had been so thrilling and exciting to be used by so many different men. Just remembering how it felt, Zack’ cock had gotten half hard in his pants, his stomach turning–he found the bathroom after a little searching and threw up in the toilet, disgusted with himself. But why was he alone? Where was Sidney? Where in the world was his son? Whatever was going on, he was getting the hell out of this place for sure. He went to the front door and flung it open, stepped out onto the front step, and…and all he felt was the most gut wrenching fear of his life.

There was just…just so much space out there. So many people, so many dangers. He was back inside, the door shut and locked behind him, heaving for breath. What in the hell was wrong with him? He tried again, and with some focus he managed to get a few steps outside, but the terror was crippling. He vomited again off to the side, onto a patch of ground between a couple of roses, and retreated back into the unfamiliar house. He had no idea what was wrong with him, but he couldn’t be out there. Instead, he decided to look around the house. There had to be a reason he was here. He didn’t have his cell phone or his keys. He didn’t have a wallet either, or his gun. Nowhere in the house was there a single phone, or a computer. The house looked lived in, mostly because it’s interior was well decorated, but the cabinets and fridge were empty and half of the rooms were unfurnished. But he did find one piece of the puzzle. In one of those empty rooms, he looked out the window, across the well kempt yard and over the fence, to where he could see the side of Sidney’s home.

He was right there. He was in the house next door to the fucker, but he couldn’t fucking leave, he couldn’t call his precinct, he couldn’t do anything. He fought the urge to cry, and instead he went downstairs and hurled a vase at the wall, and started sobbing anyway. He’d fallen for it. He didn’t know what Sidney was doing, or how he was doing it to him, but he was trapped in that sick fuck’s nightmare, and he didn’t know how to get out. Then, the doorbell rang. He hurried to the front door and opened it up, finding himself face to face with a young man holding a gift basket. “Please, you have to help me!” Zack said, “Call the police, the man next door kidnapped my son.”

“Oh, Master filled me in on the situation,” the young man said in a chipper voice, which made Zack’s heart sink, “He made you this housewarming gift, and said to be sure to watch the video.”

Zack didn’t know how to respond to that, and when he made no move to take the basket from him, the young man shrugged, set it down, and walked away like…it was the easiest thing in the world, to be out there in the terrifying world. Just standing in the open doorway he was beginning to shake; he grabbed the basket, trying not to think about it, and brought it in with him, shutting and locking the door behind him. Inside the basket were some cookies, some flowers–likely intended for the vase he’d just shattered–and a DVD. He got the video, found the widescreen TV and turned it on, but instead of a random TV channel, he found himself looking at the footage of a security camera. And from the looks of it, it was a camera inside of Sidney’s house. He changed the channel, and found himself looking in another room. It wasn’t until the seventh channel that he found the master bedroom–where Sidney had his still hulked out son bent over the bed, and was…plowing his ass.

He’d gotten hard immediately at the sight, and changed the channel again–his worst fears confirmed. Found the DVD player and loaded the disk, and hit play. After a few moments, Sidney’s face appeared on the TV, and started speaking:

“Hello Zackary. I hope you’ve started making yourself comfortable here, because you’ll be remaining here with me for the rest of my sentence, under a form of house arrest of your own. I must say, I admire your tenacity, but I simply can’t afford to have someone like you meddling in my affairs again. Don’t worry–you will find the house I purchased for you rather comfortable, if a bit lonely. You’ll have food delivered to you every few days, and if you so desire, a delivery slave can spend some time with you for…a price. There is, lastly, the issue of custody. As per the agreement, you’ll be permitted to stay with your son and me every other weekend, and we’ll all have so much fun together, I promise. I’m sorry your space is so sparse, but I’m sure you’ll always be able to find something to watch on TV. See you in a couple of weeks!”

You never gave up on him. What father could give up on his son? The police all said their was no hope of finding him if he didn’t want to be found, but that just wasn’t your boy–you knew he would never run away like that. It was the cities fault. He’d been a small town kid–innocent and trusting–he didn’t know how rough things could get in the city. No–something had happened to him, and you were sure of it, but you also couldn’t prove it.

When the police hadn’t been able to find anything, you’d taken a leave of absence from the shop you owned, and headed for the city to try and find him yourself. You interviewed his roommate from college–he told you that your son had seemed happy and good for the first few months, but one night he didn’t come home to the dorm until the next morning, and something had seemed different about him. Distant. Aggressive. He’d started smoking and drinking heavily, and he was hanging out with a group of guys off campus. He missed class regularly, and then one day he just stopped showing up at all. But that didn’t sound like your boy–what had those guys done to him?

Other people on campus you interviewed gave you similar stories, but no real details you could actually call a lead–that is, until someone dropped the name of some club on the other side of the city–some place called Pigtown. You went there, took one look at the place, and left–utterly disgusted. That was some faggot place! Your son would never have been caught dead in a place like that–he wasn’t a faggot! He’d had a girlfriend and everything all through school, and so you keep looking for clues, but every once in awhile, you feel…like you’re being watched.

Because while you were out looking for your son, your son found you. He doesn’t quite…remember who you are, or who you were to him, but he does know you. He hates you. Hates you for never seeing him. Hates you because so much of him hates now, so much of him lives to cause pain, to humiliate, to abuse. He lurks in the shadows, following you around the city as you search for him, rubbing his ten inch cock through his pants, thinking about you. About what a good pig you’ll be when he gets his hands on you. About how you’ll be getting everything you deserve tonight, when him and a few of his slaves catch you, and drag you into Pigtown kicking and screaming for a night you won’t soon forget.

House Arrest (Part 2)

He fought his feet, but he followed Sidney inside, hearing the pulse of music playing in the other room, his butt shaking in time to the beat as they got closer, and he found his hulking son still rolling his hips and moving to the beat. “Oh yes,” Zack said with a slight moan, pushing Sidney gently back down onto the couch, “I’m afraid you’re under arrest sir, and your punishment is going to be one sexy show from the hottest cop on the beat.”

What the fuck did he just say?

He grabbed the front of his uniform and tugged, feeling the snaps break apart as he started dancing with his son, unable to wrap his head around what had just happened to him. There was a mirror on the wall, and as he danced, he was able to catch glimpses of himself in it, but it wasn’t him. His…face was still mostly right–the shaved head, the horseshoe mustache starting to turn a bit grey–but his body…he’d never looked this ripped, not even when he was in the best shape of his life. Huge meaty pecs, a ripped abdomen, thick thighs which were nearly bursting the little blue shorts he had on. It struck him, at last, that this wasn’t his uniform. This was a costume. He didn’t know how, but Sidney had turned him into a stripper, and there didn’t seem to be anything he could do to stop himself from humiliating himself.

The look of horror must have registered on his face, because Sidney laughed the next time he turned towards him. “Yes, Officer, I’m sure you’re a bit confused. But why don’t you just relax? Look at how much fun your son is having. Aren’t you having fun Evan?”

“Yes sir,” Evan said with a thick laugh, “I’s having lots of fun. I just a dumb meathead stripper whore! I like to dance and fuck and suck and cum and work my body for sexy old men like you.”

“You…what the…hell did you do to him?” Zack managed to say through gritted teeth.

“Nothing that won’t happen to you too, officer. Now, keep at it. The more you dance, the better you’ll feel–I promise.”

Zack pulled his shirt off and kept dancing. Evan kept trying to feel him up and dance with him, but as much as this body wanted to play, he kept finding the will to push him away, but that will was starting to fade, slowly but surely. His panic was dimming, and his excitement and pleasure were increasing. He shucked his shorts, only to find he was wearing an NYPD jockstrap–and from the bulge in the front, he was both hard, and huge. He groped himself for the old man, loving how sexy he felt, his partner rubbing his hands all over his body…turning his head to the side for a kiss…

That face. He…knew that face, didn’t he? It was getting hard to think, and he felt so hot and sexy. And the hunk he was dancing with was hot and sexy too. He didn’t need to think, he just needed to dance and then he wouldn’t have to think anymore. He could just be a dumb meathead stripper too then, and everything else in the world wouldn’t even matter. They kissed, their mouths hot, rubbing their sweaty bodies together, looking over to make sure their client was enjoying their show, because this wasn’t really about them–it was about pleasing him. Most people probably wouldn’t find a client like this very attractive–middle aged, glasses, portly in odd places, a scruffy beard–but guys like this really turned Zach on for some reason. The idea of a sexy, attractive guy like him worshiping and obeying some fat, nerdy loser like this? It got him so fucking hard every time.

The man beckoned him over after the two of them had been making out for a few minutes; Zack sauntered over, climbed up on the couch facing the man so he was straddling him with his muscular thighs, moaning and swaying to the beat of the music. “Are you still in there, officer?” he asked, “Well, of course you are. Don’t worry, you’ll remember all of this once we’re done for the weekend, but for now, why don’t you kiss me, you handsome dumbass?”

He didn’t really know what the guy was talking about, but he did want to kiss him, and being called a dumbass made him really horny for some reason, so he leaned in and started making out with the client, one hand wrapping around the older man’s cock, stroking it slowly and gently, making sure to edge him. The client beckoned to his partner, who got down behind Zack and started sucking the man’s cock–Zack was jealous as hell, but the client’s pleasure was more important than what he wanted.

The man pushed him away for a moment, and let Zack focus on feeling up his flabby body while he toyed with a tablet he’d kept beside him. “I needed you two to keep your faces for a bit, just to make sure you recognized each other, but I’m sick of looking at your face, officer. Let’s make it a bit more appealing, eh?”

Zack felt an odd shift in his head, but when he looked over at himself in the mirror, he didn’t see anything different. His strong jawline coated with a bit of stubble, those thick lips of his, small nose and piercing green eyes, his brown hair short, and attractively mussed up. “Fuck, I looks sexy…” he said to himself.

“You sure do, stud,” Sidney said, and turned his face back so Zack was looking at him, “And what do you think of me?”

“Fuck, sir, I think’s you’re, like, really really hot. I mean, I’m a stud, but you’re like, my dream guy,” Zack said, gushing a bit, “Do you wanna fuck me, sir? I like being fucked a whole lot.”

“Sure slut, I’ll fuck you. I’ll be fucking you both a whole lot this weekend, I think.”

Zack liked the sound of that for sure. His partner stopped sucking, and he slid his client’s cock into his ass with a loud groan. He might not be smart, but he and his partner were the best whores in the city, and he was going to show this hot fucker the best weekend of his life.

House Arrest (Part 1)

Zack had spent years on the case. Building it from the ground up, finding every witness, digging up every scrap of evidence, chasing his own tail at times, but it had come together at last. Sidney Hubert might seem like your average tech savant by day, but at night he had his hands in so many shady enterprises–online black markets, insider trading, human trafficking–it was only a matter of time before he slipped up, and he knew that all he needed to do was be there to catch him, cuff him, and lock him up for good. The chance had come, when he showed up in person for a deal–he’d given the prosecutor the conviction wrapped in a bow, only to watch him throw it.

He couldn’t prove it. In hindsight, it should have been obvious that a man with as much wealth and influence as Sidney would have some pull in the criminal justice system, but Zack had underestimated exactly how much, obviously. In the end, the jury let him off on most of the charges, but stuck him with some of the lesser tax evasion charges. Even then, because he was such an alleged upstanding citizen, he was only sentenced to two years of house arrest. Two years, and the fucker was essentially relaxing all day in his massive mansion. And what did Zack have?

This case had…been rough on his life. His wife had lost it, when he’d gotten too obsessed, and left. His son was distant with him, and he only saw him every other weekend. He’d burned a good number of bridges with the department, and with the DA’s office. Five years ago, people were mentioning him as someone who might run the department one day, but now he was going to be stuck as a detective for the rest of his life. He was in his forties, and he was starting to feel it. He didn’t know if he had it in him anymore to chase this guy down all over again, once he got out, but he had to try. He didn’t have anything left to lose, after all.

Zack watched him like a hawk for six months, but there was nothing the least bit suspicious at the residence. If anything, Sidney seemed so clean that this alone was enough to raise a few alarm bells. Sidney would taunt him, occasionally–having pizza delivered to him while he sat in his car, or one time, sending him a text inviting him inside for a glass of wine and to look around–enough to let him know that he knew Zack was watching him. It was only making things feel more hopeless. He needed to accept that he’d been duped, but he couldn’t. He had to believe he could still nail this guy in the ass.

He tried to focus on reconnecting with his son, Evan, when he did see him, but it was difficult. He was seventeen, a bit of a loner, and Zack was a bit worried he might be getting involved with the wrong sorts of kids at school. They barely talked, their worlds didn’t even seem to overlap at any point. He’d drift into Zack’s apartment on Friday afternoon after school, they’d try to connect–go out to eat, see a movie–but nothing much seemed to help. Then, one Friday, Evan didn’t show up. He usually just caught the bus, but Zack thought he might have stayed after school–he called his ex-wife, but she didn’t even pick up the phone. He called the school, but they treated him like he was crazy–they couldn’t find any record of his son even attending school there. Then, he got the text message on his phone, from Sidney’s number.

“Feel like you’re missing something?”

His gut fell to his feet. That fucker, he was never going to get away with something like this. He called the squad to get backup, but as soon as he tried to tell his sergeant what had happened, he started treating him like he was crazy. He told Zack that Zack didn’t have any kids. Zack had never even been married to anything beside his job. He wanted to know if Zack had been drinking. He wanted to know if he’d been pursuing the case on his own. Zack hung up on him, incredibly frustrated, and also scared. He knew he wasn’t crazy. He had a son, he knew he had a son, but why did the entire world seem to suddenly think he didn’t even exist? He got in the car, determined to take this shit into his own hands. The rumors he’d heard about Sidney, about trafficking in men and strange technology…he tried not to think about it, as he sped across town.

He parked a ways off down the street, and approached on foot, staying out of sight of Sidney’s numerous security cameras as he slipped around the house, casing the place. Through a front side window, he saw them–Sidney sitting on the couch, naked, and…some muscular guy dancing for him in the middle of the room. That wasn’t his son–Evan was thin as a rail, hunched, always fidgety. But when the hunk spun around to wiggle his bubble butt at Sidney, and Zack saw his face…it was Evan’s face. It was Evan’s blissed out, moaning face, on some stranger’s body. He didn’t know what was going on, but he had to get in there. He went around to the front door and hammered on it, ready to burst in if need be, but after a few moments, the door opened, and a naked Sidney was there in the doorway, leering at him.

“Good evening officer, what can I do for you?”

Zack sensed that…something was wrong. He’d had his gun in his hand, but he…didn’t, suddenly. He hadn’t been wearing his uniform, but now he was in his blues–and the fabric, it was…scratchy and ill-fitting. “Sir,” he said, licking his lips, “I’ve heard reports of lewd behavior at this residence–I’m afraid I’m going to have to search the premises.”

“Oh! Well do come in officer, do come in and investigate all you want.”

Redneck Haunt (Part 3)

Jay didn’t last much longer at the smoke shop–a few weeks later, his manager caught him sleeping on the job for the last time, read him up and down the wall, and kicked his ass out. Jay tried to muster the energy to care, but he was too drained and exhausted to put up much of a fight any longer, and so he went home. He didn’t want to go there, and the thought of not having a job to go to for all night scared him in a way he couldn’t quite understand, but once he was inside, it was too hard to think about anything at all. It was about one in the morning, and he could hear something happening in Kerry’s room. He opened the door a crack, and saw his friend, on his knees, thrusting his hips into thin air. He was completely asleep, or at least his eyes were shut, and his mouth slack, his body seeming to move more like a puppet, than by any internal force or desire. Still, he was too tired to think much of it, and so he climbed into bed, and fell asleep almost immediately–the boy could sense him, but focused on his daddy for the rest of the night, only joining Jay once Kerry had woken for real, late, and hurried to get ready for work.

After that…Jay didn’t wake up much any more, and the boy drained him even further, now that he no longer had to worry about him having to leave the house for any reason, feeling the young man’s strength and life flowing into him with every load of cum. Kerry was too focused on what was happening to himself to focus much on Jay–his mind was a riot of memories, old and new, real and created by his boy, that he wasn’t even quite sure who he was anymore. What he did know, was that he loved his boy. He shouldn’t love him, but…but he did, and the feeling was so strong it was impossible for him to deny. He also knew that his boy was going stronger. He would possess Jay regularly, and each time, he was shocked to see what had happened to his friend’s form. He looked closer to sixty now, his hair receded back past the crown of his head, now just a dingy grey. His muscles had all collapsed, and his gut was heavy. He stank, and not like healthy musk–he stank of death, his teeth rotting out of his head, and yet…Kerry desired him anyway. Party, because his boy was inside him, but also…also because it was Jay. Because he’d always wanted Jay, and that desire persisted, somehow, even as his body seemed to age and decay right before his eyes.

One day, when he was feeling particularly guilty, watching his boy suck his cock with Jay’s throat, he pulled together all of the strength he could muster, and pushed him away. “No boy, no–no, you have to stop this, you can’t…he’s going to die, if you keep doing this to him. You have to stop, please, for me–for daddy.”

Jay’s sunken eyes looked at him, and then his body stood, and they looked down at his body, “I could kill him, that’s true. I was planning on killing him–or rather, I assumed I’d have to. But I’m almost strong enough daddy, I just need a little bit more.”

“I…I don’t even recognize him anymore. How did you do this to him?”

The boy smiled a toothless, unsettling grin, and then went back to sucking his daddy’s cock, pushing back, making sure Kerry wouldn’t fight back or protest, not until after he’d gotten another load from him. But Kerry kept pushing, thinking about that smile that had turned his stomach in a knot, looking down at himself through the cigar smoke, really looking, down at his hairy, sweaty gut, smelling himself, lifting up a hefty arm and snorting at his stench. It made his cock jump, his heavy balls pumping out a bit of precum which his boy drank down eagerly into Jay’s gut. This wasn’t him, was it? Whose clothes was he even wearing?

He had on a pair of coveralls and filthy workboots, neither of which he could remember buying in his life, neither of which should have fit him. He shouldn’t be this fat, he shouldn’t reek, he definitely shouldn’t be smoking, or drinking another warm beer from the 24 pack he’d started bringing home on an almost daily basis. What was he becoming? Who was he becoming? Who was he forgetting in the process? He came, and it made him feel dirty–he finished his cigar, and then  his boy told him to get to bed.

The dreams became stronger. He lost sense of where the dreams ended, and real life began. His boy was always there. Jay was there too…or…or was it just his pig? He still cared about him, but the love he’d felt started to curdle into disgust and contempt, his desire for company into a deep pleasure in control. He enjoyed abusing the pig’s toothless mouth, slamming his massive cock deep in it’s filthy hole, his son cheerleading from the sideline, the two of them sharing smoky kisses while Jay drooled on the floor, his own cock and balls barely a nipple, completely inert.

One night, as winter was thawing slightly into an early spring, Kerry came home from a long day at work, hungry for a beer and his boy’s holes, maybe a rough fuck for his pig too, and his boy was there, shaking with excitement…and he touched him. It was electric, it wasn’t just…force. It was flesh. His boy was there–really there, in front of him. “I’m here daddy, I’m back.”

He knew, in his gut, he should be happy, but all he found welling up was absolute terror. His son had anticipated this, and forced his daddy to the floor with his mind, tearing away his filthy overalls and running his hands over his filthy ass.

“Now I can finally give you a piece of me, daddy, after I’ve taken so much from you. I seeded Piggy earlier, and he’s never looked better, don’t you think?”

He looked over, and saw Piggy curled up in his bed, fatter than before, looking healthier as well, like a kind of life had returned to him, but his eyes were so empty, empty of everything that had been Jay, just…just a slave, a pig, a thing. “Don’t…not like him, please…”

“Oh daddy, I’d never make you pig–not unless you made me very, very angry. No, but we can get rid of that young man now, forever. You won’t be troubled by him anymore, you’ll just be my happy, nasty daddy, and we can be happy together again, like before. Isn’t that what you want?” he ran his cock up and down Kerry’s crack, making his shiver, his cock leaking against his own desires, and after a quick fuck, Kerry was gone. The boy’s daddy let off a great big belch, feeling his boy’s cum leak from his hole, gave him a long, sloppy kiss, happy to be home at last.

Redneck Haunt (Part 2)

Jay woke that evening, after sleeping through his alarm, feeling like he hadn’t slept at all. He could remember that he’d been dreaming…something, but couldn’t remember any details, beyond the fact that it had been sexy. He was still pretty horny actually, but try as he might, he couldn’t manage to jack off, no matter which hot chick he was thinking of, like his dick was already spent. Frustrated, he threw on a fairly clean uniform for the smoke shop and went out, finding Kerry watching TV, legs spread wide…and was his cock hard? Jay tried to talk to him, but he seemed pretty out of it–they’d planned on throwing that basement crap out today, but with Kerry’s exhaustion and the fact that Jay had overslept, they didn’t have time. In fact, over the next few months, exhaustion became a norm for them both, and it began to show around the house, neither of them cleaning up after themselves much like they had. Kerry hoped that his boy would just leave him alone–but from the moment he stepped in his house, he was by his side, talking to him, sucking him off, kissing him, licking him from head to toe, and Jay never noticed a thing. He tired to avoid coming home, but he felt some strange compulsion to return every night, and his boy was always there, and Jay too–though Jay was looking a bit…haggard lately.

Unbeknownst to him, every morning, while Kerry was working and he was sleeping, the strange boy was in his room, sucking his cock and draining him dry. At this point, he was so exhausted he’d been caught falling asleep on the job multiple times, and was given one more chance before his boss told him he’d be fired–but the sleep at work was the only time he actually felt like he’d slept at all. He had deep circles under his eyes, but there were other strange changes going on. Jay had always been in good shape, fairly muscular with barely any fat at all on his frame, but ever since he’d stopped sleeping…it was like his muscles had been sagging and draining away, bit by bit. He had the beginnings of a gut, too. Other little things, as well–his hairline had started receding, and he’d lost interest in shaving, letting his stubble fill in as a scraggly beard. He was perpetually horny, but hadn’t jacked off in months. At first he simply hadn’t been able to cum, but now he couldn’t even get hard, and both his cock and balls seemed…smaller. He looked like he’d aged into his late thirties in a matter of months, and as scared as he was by the sudden change, he also felt almost no interest in doing anything about it.

Until one day in late fall, when things changed for the worse. Kerry arrived home, as usual, bracing himself for the boy again, terrified of his own mind, which seemed…muddled lately, like he couldn’t trust his own thoughts and memories, and he kept…confusing his dreams with his real life. He opened the front door, and nearly let out a sob of relief when he saw that the boy wasn’t there to greet him. Was he gone? Had he left? Was he better? The relief was short lived, when Jay came down the hallway, naked, cock hard as a rock, a sly grin on his bearded face, and he said, “Hey daddy, look what I can do now.”

It was him. He didn’t know how he knew…but he could sense his boy there, in Jay’s body. He tried to run, but the door slammed shut behind him, and refused to budge. “What–what did you do to him? Get out of there, boy!” Kerry said, his voice shaking, and his boy just laughed.

“Oh but Daddy, wouldn’t it be nice to fuck a real hole this afternoon?” his boy said, walking closer, “Besides, I know the real reason why you wanted him to move in here–and you should really fuck him now, because there won’t be very much left when I’m done with him.”

“No–No, this is. Get out of him, right now boy. I’m…I’m your…father, and I want to know what you’re doing to him.”Something that felt like a massive gust of wind swung into Kerry, sending him off balance. He tipped back and landed on his back–he tried to get back up, but he couldn’t lift his arms or legs. Jay’s body walked over, unzipped Kerry’s jeans, and tugged down his pants and underwear, letting his hard cock out, where it jutted straight up. “Oh, it was a nice try, but we’re still just playing our little roles. Maybe in a while, I’ll let you boss me around for a little bit…” He squatted down over Kerry’s cock, and slid down onto it, with a shudder and gasp, “Oh…oh fuck, daddy! I forgot…I haven’t felt you inside me in…in so long…”

Kerry was powerless, as the boy forced Jay to fuck himself on Kerry’s cock. It was true, what he’d said–he was gay, but in the closet, and he’d always wanted Jay. He’d never dared tell him that, given what a raging homophobe he was, but he’d always held out hope that one night, he might get him too drunk, and sneak a taste. But not this, not like this. Fuck, it did feel good though. He’d fucked a few truckers in his life, and that was about it–but this–fuck, he could, he could get used to this. With a moan, Jay groaned, and shot his load into his hand, before slurping it all up. Kerry came a minute later, deep inside Jay’s hole, and when the afterglow had faded a bit, they boy lifted Jay’s body off the cock, stumbling a bit. “Fuck, took…a bit more energy than I expected. Better get him to bed again–wouldn’t want him to catch you with your pants down daddy…right?”

Kerry remained on the floor for a while, crying a bit, wondering what, exactly was going on. He’d managed to get his pants back up by the time Jay–the real Jay–had gotten up, yawning, and headed to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. The boy followed after him, got down, and kissed his daddy on the floor. “Don’t worry daddy, I’ll be with you soon, and then you can fuck my hole for real.”

Redneck Haunt (Part 1)

“I still can’t believe ya actually bought a house though! Fuck, I mean, I know that shouldn’t seem so damn outta reach, but I can’t even imagine,” Jay said, looking around the place, Kerry beaming a bit in the kitchen. It was a simple ranch house, a bit rundown, but plenty livable, “Gotta admit, I’m pretty fuckin’ jealous, since I’m still crashing with my damn dad.”

“Well actually, I wanted to talk to ya about that,” Kerry said, “This place has a second bedroom–you want it? I wouldn’t mind a little help with the bills, but mostly I’d just like the company, and ya can help me fix the place up!”

“Fuck, never thought the first person to ask me to move in with them was gonna be a guy,” Jay said, laughing as Kerry rolled his eyes at him.

“If ya don’t wanna, you can keep sleeping on your dad’s couch, I just thought–”

“No, Kerry, I mean…are you sure? I’d love to get the fuck out of my dad’s place, you know that.”

“Sure I’m sure!” Kerry said, grinning, “We can move you in next week–how’s that sound?”

Kerry and Jay had been friends since they were little tykes, running around the small, rural town they called home. The economy was struggling, but chugging along well enough. Kerry had always been the smarter and more diligent of them both–he ended up getting a technical degree and fixed farm equipment around the entire county, which was how he was able to afford a first home at the age of twenty five. Jay had never been the school type, preferring to run around chasing girls. He hadn’t knocked anyone up, thankfully, but he’d dropped out of high school, and the best he could find was the night shift at one of the smoke shops on the nearby indian reservation along the highway. Still, they’d been fast friends for ages, and neither figured living together would be much of an issue, especially with their opposite schedules, and sure enough, for a few months, everything went fine. Jay would work all night, and come home as Kerry was heading out the door for work. He’d sleep the morning, and wake up about the time Kerry came home. In the afternoons, they’d scour thrift shops around the area to furnish the place and make it a bit more livable, or they’d work on some chores around the place, putting a fresh coat of paint on the walls, but when they went to clean out the attic, cellar, that’s when things started going a bit…odd.

The first time Kerry had gone down there, he’d found a bunch of boxes of junk down there along the wall, which he assumed was from the previous owner. He’d called the real estate agent, but hadn’t received much of an answer. They’d decided to just go through it and get rid of it themselves one day, and see if there was anything in there which might be worth salvaging, but the boxes mostly contained a bunch of filthy work gear in sizes way too large for either of them, some kid’s toys, a few assorted knick knacks haphazardly stored away, and a few pieces of furniture in decent condition but filthy. Jay suggested they just haul the whole lot of it off to the dump, but Kerry said he was too tired to do it that day, and they could do it later. True to his word, he headed right off to bed as soon as they got upstairs, and he didn’t get back up before Jay had to head off for his shift at work.

When he got back early the next morning, Kerry was at the table looming over his cup of coffee, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink. “Fuck man, you look like shit.”

“Yeah, I fucking feel like shit,” Kerry said, taking a sip of his coffee, “Didn’t sleep very well.”

“Bad dreams or something?”

“Yeah…s–something…” Kerry said, but didn’t elaborate. Jay himself had had a long night, and so he headed to bed himself, unaware that the two of them weren’t alone in the room, that right there beside Kerry, was a young man, his hand on Kerry’s shoulder, which Kerry was trying to ignore as best he could.

“He’s living in my room, daddy?” the young man whispered in Kerry’s ear, “I’m not sure how I feel about that…Still, since I’m sleeping with you, I don’t think it’ll be a problem for now.” He looked to be in his late teens or early twenties, shorter and stocky, with a solid mix of fat and muscle, and a goatee around his mouth which would have looked good, had he had a few more years of life to grow into it.

Kerry ignored him as best he could, unable to understand how the strange young man who’d appeared in his dreams the night before had somehow been in bed with him the next morning, stroking Kerry’s cock, and then he’d sucked him off He knew, that the young man wasn’t quite real–or at least, he wasn’t real in the same way as he and Jay were, because when he’d tried to shove him off, his hands had passed right through him…but when he’d rested his hand on the back of his head a while later, as he was moaning, he’d been able to feel the young man’s greasy hair under his fingers. He couldn’t tell Jay about this–this didn’t make any sense at all, and his friend would just think he’d gone insane. Hell, he probably had gone insane, right? Isn’t this schizophrenia or something? He needed to get help, he needed–

The young man was still naked, aside from the pair of ratty boxers he’d appeared with, and he leaned in closer, kissing Kerry’s neck, one hand finding his hard cock and stroking it gently, the young man helpless to stop him, and he moaned again, his worry’s lost in pleasure. “It’s so good to be back, daddy–I’ve missed you so much. Don’t worry, now that your boy is back with you, you’ll be happy again in no time.”

“Please–I have to go to work…Don’t do this again.”

“Nonsense Daddy, we have time for another quickie, don’t we?”

Kerry came as quickly as he could, his cock shooting his cum right into his underwear, and then the young man returned control to him, letting Kerry scurry out of the house, and off to his job, trying to shake his dreams and waking nightmare as he got in his truck and drove off. His boy watched him from the front window, and then walked to his old room, where Jay was already sleeping soundly, slipped his hand through the covers, and started toying with his cock as well, before sucking him off all morning long, in his dreams.

Dale’s Story (Part 9 – Finale)

Thank you all for the input over the last month, this has been a lot of fun to do again! I’ll probably take a break on this for a little while, and go back to just photo captions for a bit (look for them on Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays). Here’s the finale, which is option #3 with a twist of #2 for all of you desperate pups out there.

His dad did look rather lonely, nursing that beer over there all by himself, looking around at the bar as more and more men succumbed to the new reality slowly taking them all over, exuded by the stranger…or the mayor, right? Dale looked over at the old man, shoving pipe smoke down George’s throat at the bar, and wondered how he could have not recognized him all this time. The damn town mayor! What in the hell was wrong with him, that he’d forget something like that? Oh well, it wasn’t like his head was screwed on too tight when it came to anything that wasn’t food and cars, so he’d make do.

The two young men, Jack and Terry, were still licking him clean, and he started tweaking their brains a bit, a little at a time, pulling and unraveling a few strings at a time, making sure they knew what was happening, but also knowing there was nothing they could do to fight it. Soon enough, they actually kind of liked it–the idea of a man having total control over them, especially someone like Dale. A big man…a father figure, even. Someone they could respect. Someone they could serve, perhaps.

The mayor gave him a funny look, and then shifted his attention to the man who, yesterday, had been Dale’s father. He’d gone to pot a bit since his wife’s death a few years ago, putting on a spare tire, and getting a bit too attached to the beer and whisky. As dale watched, his gut expanded into a firm, hard ball belly, his shirt disappearing, revealing skin coated with hair. His beard filled in but remained a bit scraggly, his nose growing red and bulbous from a few breaks, scars from brawls due to his mean streak, a real roughneck, as rough as they come. A denim vest covered with biker patches and regalia appeared on his shoulders, some well worn chaps over his jeans–Bubba, as everyone called him, knocked back another shot of whisky, stood up, swayed a moment, then stomped his way over to where Dale was sitting with the two young men, and he definitely liked what he saw, liked it even better when Bubba lit a cigar, leaned over and fed Dale a deep lungful of smoke while his two boys went to town on Dale.

Yeah, they were going to be Bubba’s boys for sure, not that the rest of the town couldn’t have a piece of either one whenever they felt like it. He looked down, and saw them changing under the stranger’s gaze. Jack first, his body bulking up with a muscle and fat, a bushy goatee around his mouth, body covered with scars, sores, welts and bruises, but that’s just normal for a punching bag fag like him. He’d grown up taking everything Bubba had felt he deserved, and Bubba thought he’d deserved a whole damn lot–thankfully, the boy’d grown to like it well enough, and generally was happy enough to let anyone abuse him as long as he got a fuck out of it in the end. Bubba tapped him on the head, and Jack looked up, mouth open, letting Bubba drop a cinder in his mouth to swallow, and then he went back to licking Dale’s chest, his tongue leaving a trail of sodden ash wherever it went.

Next came Terry, or Terrier, as everyone called him. A simple boy, he hadn’t really been up to being a man, so Bubba had trained him to be a pup instead. He was smaller than his brother Jack, more lithe and muscular, and he dropped down onto all fours, wagging the buttplug tail in his ass to and fro, as he scrambled under the table, buried his nose into Dale’s fat and started working on his cock, lapping up Dale’s cum as he moaned, and Bubba hauled out his own cock and fed it to Dale’s hungry mouth, and he looked again at the stranger, whose eyes were on him now.

He could feel his awareness dulling, his memories of the last twenty four hours dimming and dulling away into this new sense of normal. He saw Farmer Mick burst into the bar, hauling his massive pig behind him on a leash, coated with mud, and it was just…normal. His sucking Bubba’s cock was normal too, of course. He’d always had a thing for rough types like him, and Bubba had always liked pounding his big, fat ass into the ground, whenever he came in to get a tuneup for his harley. Course, Dale did have a bit of a reputation to uphold–he couldn’t just go around letting the whole town think his fat ass was open to just any fucker who wanted it, but he did have a soft spot for the big lug, he had to admit it. “Ya know Bubba,” Dale said, when he pulled away for a moment, “How ‘bout you ‘n yer boys, ‘n me ‘n mah boys, all spend a nice long night at mah place tahnight?”

“Heh, I had a date with a few biker buds of mine, but I wouldn’t pass up a chance at yer big ass, the way I’m feelin’ tonight,” Bubba growled down at him, and they shared some more smoke, before Bubba hauled him up out of the chair. Dale gave a whistle, and his two boys came over, and all six of them headed off into the night, happy denizens of the new town, where they lived happily ever after, in one life or another.

Pig Bros (Part 4)

WARNING: Bestiality, herm TF

“Ethan! What the hell are you–” he said, but had the wind knocked out of him as Ethan tackled him to the floor…and Avery smelled him. God, he wanted him, he wanted him so badly, his body wanted him, but…but he did too. He wasn’t even fighting as Ethan rolled him over onto his belly, lined up that freakish cock and slipped it into his ass. The pleasure that hit him was massive, all of the pent up honrniness of the entire week crashing into him as surge after surge of pleasure, pleasure at finally being mounted, like he needed to be! He started to cum, at last, and while it felt amazing, it also hurt–his balls contracting so hard with each pulse of cum leaving him that they ached in his gut. Ethan didn’t notice–he just kept rutting, and while that sow had felt good, his brother’s ass felt amazing. No wonder Daddy liked boars better–he had a feeling he’d be riding his brother a whole lot more in the future, provided Daddy gave him permission.

Beneath him, Avery’s cock kept pulsing, a massive puddle of cum growing beneath him, and as it did, he felt his body…shifting. Odd sensations up and down his front, as three more rows of nipples appeared on his massive gut, all of them incredibly sensitive, more so than even his cock, but not as much as his ass had become. He felt so good, submitting like this. He liked to submit. He needed to submit. He was meant to be ridden, to be taken, to be controlled. With a final heave, Ethan slammed in deep and came inside Avery’s ass, his balls aching even worse, something strange happening in his groin, his body…shifting, leaving him both exhausted and satisfied, as his brother collapsed onto him, musky and sweaty…but there was another stench on him. Someone else, that same person he could almost remember.

“Fuck, could lay here all night, but let’s get you out of here before the whole campus sees us.”

Avery wanted to know where, he wanted to know what was going on, what had happened to his body, but his brother put on his overalls again, and let Avery out of the dorm naked, on his hands and knees, to a waiting truck. Avery could smell the person in the driver’s seat–it was a familiar scent, and he wanted to see who it was, but his brother forced him into the back bed, while Ethan rode in the cab, and they drove off in the dawn light.

Avery’s head had cleared a bit by the time they arrived at the pig farm–the chill of the morning air had helped ease some of the desire from him, and as much as he tried to explore his body on the ride…he found it rather difficult. His…arms seemed shorter, or he was simply so fat he couldn’t reach far enough down to reach his cock, much less his balls. They pulled up alongside the large barn, and Avery demanded an explanation, but Ethan just ordered him out of the truck, and led him into the barn, where the driver, Daddy, Avery assumed, had entered. The two of them forced him into a pen too small for him to turn around in, and the massive farmer came around in front. “Ya can go ahead ‘n remember me now.”

The scene at the bar returned to him, and Avery squealed, trying to escape from the pen, while both Ethan and Daddy squealed and snorted with laughter. “Ethan! Ethan, you have to stop this! Snap out of it!”

“Don’t mind the sow, little boar,” Daddy said, pulling Ethan close and giving him a sloppy kiss that Ethan eagerly returned, “He just hasn’t had a proper dicking yet, is all.”

“Can I do it Daddy? Please?” Ethan asked.

Daddy laughed, “No boy, we can’t have that–yer welcome tah his ass anytime ya like, though, n that fat snout a his too, a course. In fact, feed that brother a yers that big boar cock, while I introduce him tah his new sowhood.”

Avery tried to demand answers, but Ethan shoved his cock into his throat, forcing him to suck it, and then Daddy touched him where his balls should have been…but weren’t. Instead, he felt his rough, stubby fingers slip inside him, and he squealed with pleasure.

“Somebody like’s their new pussy, I see. Don’t worry, I’ll be fuckin’ ya plenty, little sow. Yer gonna have quite a few a mah litters, I think, how does that sound? Make that dick hard, thinking about me sowing my seed in yer new pigcunt?”

He forced himself inside Avery’s new pigcunt, and with that, he felt his entire resistance slip away, the soul sinking deep into his heart, and he accepted it. Welcomed it, actually. Eager to be fucked by his daddy…even excited that he could get pregnant with his piglets. And his brother, of course, with his own delicious boar cock, he thought, sucking and licking at the shaft in front of him. His brother might have to fuck sows for a living, but he knew that the hole he really wanted was Avery’s piggy ass. He felt the final changes sink in, his arms and legs shortening, hands and feet becoming trotters. His face was mostly human still, aside from floppy ears and a short snout, but Avery would be on all fours for the rest of his piggy life.

Ethan’s boar bristle filled in thicker, his face becoming more porcine than Avery’s, with a long snout and flat nose Daddy would eventually pierce with a thick ring. His feet changed into thick trotters, but he remained upright, rudimentary hands capable of wielding a few tools, but not much else, eyes dulling, no longer interested in anything beyond fucking and making his daddy boar happy. And the farmer looked down at them both, happy with the new additions to his farm, and knowing the rumours that would spread around the campus with their disappearance would remind the students who was really in charge around here.