The FAT Retreat (Part 6)

Warning: Still extreme stuff.

– Day 6 –

The flourescents flickered on in their room, and Max shielded his eyes from them, not quite able to handle their glare this morning. He rolled over, the mattress beneath him wet and cold, his cock hard and leaking as always, and looked over across the room where his son was awake already. Leon, the pig, face buried in the toilet bowl, swallowing down the muck, and aware that the lights had come on, he hauled his face up, covered in shit that dribbled down onto the rim and the floor, and he just stared at his father and master, like a dog caught with a bag of treats in it’s mouth.

To punish or not to punish? Max erred on the latter–Leon had been well behaved all week (hadn’t he? he couldn’t seem to remember much of it actually) and so he got up from the bed, stroking his cock, getting himself to the edge as he crossed the room, so that as he slid his huge cock into his son’s amazing hole he came almost immediately, and then he started fucking properly, bending over the pig’s massive, 600 pound frame to shove it’s face into the toilet bowl, giving it unspoken permission to finish its first breakfast.

Leon had drained the toilet and was licking the bowl, rim and floor clean around the toilet when the door finally slid open, and the intercom announced that it was time to eat. Max finished off his sixth orgasm, feeling slightly less horny and able to function for the moment, and yanked on Leon’s collar, telling his son to follow him out of the room.

Neither of them had clothing on. Max enjoyed parading his huge body down the hall, staring down all the men he passed. He stood at least head taller than most of them, and between his musk and his glare, everyone hurried to get out of the brute’s way, the man’s pig following behind him, shit covered face to the floor, lapping up the dribbles of cum that seeped out of it’s father’s cock as he walked, still hungry, always hungry, never big enough, always disgusting, but never enough, never good enough (for his father? For his dead father? A dream, more than a dream?) for anything more than this.

Breakfast proceeded as usual. Max ate first, and Leon cleaned up after him, eating the scraps, drinking the piss that suddenly streamed from his master’s cock as he devoured a massive chocolate cake, taking the moments in between to clean bits of Max’s body–his feet, his asscrack, his shitty cockhead. When Max was full, he turned his attention to his massive pig, positioning him next to a table and stuffing him as quickly as he could. Leon had long since become used to eating like this (Like this, he’d never eaten like this) and so he focused on swallowing it all down, knowing that the merest slip up would leave him choking on the floor, and that his father would probably just abandon him to die, not even good enough to be fed like a proper pig, and that would it, that would be everything. So he swallowed and swallowed and swallowed, afraid of his father, afraid of wasting away even now, afraid of everything–a true coward of feeble mind and weaker soul.

The rest of the morning was a blur to Leon–his master paid him little attention in their only morning session–an exit interview with a doctor in a since study, a study Leon didn’t want to enter, because he could tell he didn’t belong there, that he would just ruin it all with his filth, but the doctor brought him in anyway, and he crawled gingerly accross the carpet, trying to leave as little of himself there as possible.

The doctor was very pleased with them, and Max was very pleased with the retreat–it was exactly what he and his pig slave had needed, and he felt so well rested and relaxed now, it was wonderful. The doctor was very pleased, and got up to open a window, the musk of them both combined with Max’s cigar smoke too much for him. The doctor finished by talking about them and their future plans. Of course, they would continue trucking around the culture and uploading their “cabcast” to FAT’s collection of websites. After all, men all over the world loved the saga of the huge beast of a trucker and his filthy pig son. FAT had also assembled an itinerary for the both of them over the next six months, a collection of orgies and porn shoots for Maxc, Leon, or both of them to participate in, for which FAT would pay them of course–they needed to keep up with their rising food costs somehow, right? But what about after those six months? Had they thought that far ahead yet?

“Honestly,” Max said, “I haven’t really planned very far ahead at all. I woke up feeling kind of…odd actually, like–”

“Yes, I know how things can feel, but that’s not really important. I’m sure uyou’ll feel right as rain before too long, but we really do need to discuss a few things, especially about your pig. He’s over 600 pounds now, and is gaining faster than we expected. We ought to begin planning for his eventual immobility.”

“You mean, when he can’t move at all? Hell, he’d be fucking worthless if you ask me.”

“Well, when that day comes–soon I’m sure–we’d be happy to take him off your hands. We have programs for the immobile. I can assure you your son–”

“He’s not my son.”

“Yes, well, your slave would be well cared for and have a very enjoyable life, given his interests.”

“I don’t care what you’d want to do with him to be honest.”

“Well, we have some openings remaining in our winter retreat six months from now–why don’t both of you attend, and we can see what we’d like to do about you both then. You, Max, I think will be very popular with all sorts of men–I can’t wait to see what you might do when your pig isn’t of use to you anymore.”

“Heh, well, I’d miss him a little probably, but like I said–a worthless pig is a pig I don’t want. So, are we free to go now?”

“You certainly are,” the doctor said, and indicated two bins against the wall, “The clothes you arrived in are in those bins, and your truck is outside where you parked it. I’m excited to see you in six months, it’s going to be a very exciting time, I think.”

Max rolled his eyes at the doctor, obviously impatient, and the doctor glared at him. “Subject 367, sleep now.”

Max, who had been in the midst of standing up from the chair he was in, plopped back down, his bearded shin smacking against his chest. Leon looked up at his master and over at the doctor, not sure what to do, and decided to just do nothing, and think about other things. He hadn’t really been paying much attention to the conversation, and so he never did remember what the doctor told his master, that over the next six months, Max would find himself falling deeply in love with his pig. Not just emotionally, but physically. He would find himself desiring the pig’s cum, his piss, and his shit as deeply as Leon desires his. He would hate these new feelings but find them irresitible, and the thought of being separated from his son forever would seem like the worst torture in the world.

He woke Max up after a few minutes, and sent them both on their way, reclothed in their old (new?) clothes that neither of them could quite remember wearing ever before in their lives. Max squeezed his huge body into a pair of ragged jeans, the seat brown and crusted with shit, and threw on an old denim jacket which had been crudly cut up into a vest, and lastly pulled on a pair of mud and shit crusted boots. Leon was put into the pair of overalls he’d worn for almost two years straight now, and it was nearly time to give his pig a new pair to ruin, Max figured. The knees were ripped open, Leon could barely fit his massive rolls of fat into them, and one of the straps had broken off entirely during an orgy they’d been at a year ago. Still, they smelled so good, like his pig, his son, he loved that smell so much–

Max shook his head, not at all sure where those thoughts had come from, and utterly disturbed by them. He hated that pig, he hated him more than anyone he’d ever met. There was no love for him, none at all, and the thought scared him that he, a huge alpha male, could ever love something as weak and disgusting as that.

He fucked Leon roughly in the office, right then and there, just to reassure himself of his hatred, the doctor just watching it happen, head cocked to one side, thinking. Max, his confidence restored for the moment, dragged Leon away by his lead and stormed out of the building and into the parking lot.

Leon blinked a couple of times, the glare of the sun not so different from the halogens he’d been living under for the last several days, but it seemed to stir in him something he could not recall precisely. A feeling of…excitement? The FAT headquarters loomed behind him, Max in front of him, the bookends of his life. Max was scanning the parking lot, almost like he wasn’t entirely sure what to do now that the retreat was behind him, before finally finding the thoughts to spring into action, he lumbered off towards the side of the parking lot where his rig was parked, Leon following behind on his hands and knees.

The cab smelled strangely clean. It seemed to him that the cab had always had a strong scent of his father’s messes, considering he usually drove for hours, shitting and pissing his seat, Leon’s face buried in his crotch most of the way, draining his dad’s balls for him, but it had to be their truck, right? It was probably just his memory being wrong. Besides, it would smell like home soon enough, he was certain. Max hefted himself up with considerable more ease and gave his son a rare smile. The retreat had been good for him, Leon thought, good for them both. A chance to relax and unwind for a little bit, and eat, of course.

Max turned the key and checked his itinerary–they were due for a shit orgy in Baton Rouge in two days, and then a pig party in Houston after that–checked the cameras in the cab, and pulled out. Leon smelled the piss before Max did, and leaned over, sucking it from the denim as it leaked out, and they pulled out of the parking lot, their new lives behind them, eyes on the future, and already looking forward to their next FAT retreat in a few months.

THE END

When their new neighbors invited Leif and his son, Mac over for dinner, they didn’t realize that the two older men’s cum would be on the menu. However, it didn’t take long for the spell the two older bears cast on them to deprive them both of their free will, and as they sucked their new master’s off in the kitchen, the two bears congratulated each other.

“See, I fuckin’ told you it would work! Damn, this boy’s mouth is fuckin’ hot as fuck–gonna love havin’ you as my new boy.”

“Fuck yeah–this old fuck though, what are we gonna do with him?”

“I already got a buyer–and he wants him untrained, which makes it even better. Said he would be coming by tonight.”

Sure enough, a couple of hours later there was a knock on the door, and the older, leather clad master came in, took a look at Leif, and dragged him out the door by the metal collar he shackled around his neck, before he could even say goodbye to his son–not that Mac was paying attention. He was too focused on pleasing his new dads–in fact, he already forgotten about his old one entirely by the time the night was through. From that moment on, he was his dad’s sexy rubbercub, ready for a load of cum or piss at any moment, but there was nothing he loved more than getting plowed by his dads from both ends.

Lief on the other hand, didn’t have as nice of a training session. He still remembered everything, and his master–an older man whose real name he never had the chance to learn, beat him mercilessly, training him into a sniveling old boot licker who he’d drag to the clubs, where Lief would be fisted for hours on end, and he would, on occasion, see his son there too, watching him from a far, growing up with his two dads into a chubby bear slut, and the desire for vengeance burned it’s way through him. Still, he would never be able to get to him, would he? Unless he managed to get his hands on some magic of his own, of course…

I was his big brother! What, was I supposed to say no? I’d been collecting second hand weight room equipment for a while, and I was getting pretty big, and my brother wanted to lift weights with me. It seemed easy enough, except he was better at it than me. Fuck, what the hell–I was supposed to be the big brother here, and before I know it, he’s posting selfies to every fuckin’ girl in school, flexing in the mirror in his fucking waders. Look, it would have been ok I think if he’d just left it at that, but then he fucked Amanda, and I mean, we’d been off ‘n on forever! No brother fucks his brother’s girl, and then brags about it. So yeah, I wasn’t happy.

So yeah, it wasn’t nice, still, the spell fucking worked, didn’t it? Guy can’t pry himself away from the fridge long enough to work out…or do anything much at all. Should have seen him beg me those first few days, listen to him tell me he’d make it all better, he’d never do anything like that again, and I, well, I had a change of heart, I admit it. Unfortunately, the gypsy who’d put the spell on him had a definite no refund policy, and when I got in her face, she fucking cursed me too.

She made me his fucking feeder! I can’t stop cookin’ all day long for him, watching him eat. That gut he’s growing is so damn sexy though, fuck, I love climbing up on his lap, grinding my cock into his belly button while he eats, and of course, whenever he finishes a meal I give him a blow job or fuck his fat, piggy ass to keep him happy. Everything was good too, until I finally let slip what I’d done.

To say that he was pissed, well, that was a fuckin’ understatement, and before I could stop him, he’d gotten into my truck and driven off to meet with the gypsy himself. Man, I don’t know what the hell she did, but as soon as he got back, I looked at him in a whole new way. I mean, he’d always been sexy, but now he was like a fucking god. He walked in the room, and I fell to my knees in front of him, face buried in his gut, begging him to make me his slave.

Thankfully he said yes–I don’t know what he would have done otherwise. So everything worked out well in the end, right? I get to worship and wait on my obese brother all day long, feeding that huge belly of his, and he gets to fuck both my holes whenever he wants. He’s my little brother right? What else would a guy have done?

Principal Evans was an understanding man. He assumed that, at their core, all of his students wanted to learn, and that he could learn something from each of them, but when it came to Neil and his gang of rednecks, who spent their entire days out back in the parking lot, but Neil’s truck, smoking cigarettes and drinking, he figured he might need to make an exception to his usual nice tactics. Of course, they’d already tried detentions and suspensions–but before relying on expulsion, he would try one last heart to heart, and so he threw on his suit coat and left the school, walking over to where Neil and his redneck buddies were smoking and drinking in the parking lot.

“Boys, I’m going to have to ask you to go back to class,” he said.

“Fuck that–why in the fuck would I do that? Now go march your bitch ass back inside, cunt!” Neil said, and his friends burst out laughing.

“Where in the fuck did you learn your manners!” Principal Evans said, “Did your parents teach you anything? If you were my son, I’d–”

“You know, Mr. Evans, both of my parents died when I was young. I’ve been a fucking foster kid my whole life. Are you actually volunteering for the role?” Neil asked, grinning, “Because I know one thing for sure, anybody who’s gonna be my dad is gonna be a fucking smoker, that’s for sure.”

Principal Evans’ next inhale was full of smoke, and he nearly hacked up a lung, but he couldn’t pull the cigar that had appeared in his mouth out–he needed it. He needed the smoke so fucking bad. “What–what did you–”

“I also know that no dad of mine would be some slim, smooth fuck like you. He’d be fat as hell, and furry all over the place, with a great big beard.”

The principal felt his whole body’s balance shift, and he had to lean back to accommodate the gut rapidly growing out of his slim midsection. At the same time, he could feel hair spriouting all over his body, and especially his face, where a new beard filled in and grew out nearly an inch. He turned to run, but two of Neil’s burly friends had circled around behind him, grabbed him by the arms, and shoved him into one of the folding chairs they’d been sitting in.

“You know what else? No dad of mine would be working as a principal–I bet my dad dropped out of high school. He probably works in construction, getting a sweaty and dirty every day. He also wouldn’t wear a suit, he’d be a denim guy, and probably wear a Stetson.”

“What are ya…how’r ya doin’ this tah me?” Evans asked, looking down as the fabric of his suit shifted into a denim shirt and jeans, both of them caked with mud and grime from his job digging ditches for the city. Still, he wasn’t smart, so he didn’t exactly have many choices when it came to work, did he?

“But most importantly, any dad of mine would want me to be happy. He’d do anything I tell him to do–in fact, he’d probably be a slut for my cock, and for all of my friend’s cocks, begging us to fuck him and abuse him all day long. Because if your boy’s happy, you’re happy–right Pa?”

“F–Fuck, I…I mean, yeah son, but…” Evans said, but Neil already had his thick cock out, and after taking a big draw off his cigar, he got down on his knees in front of his boy and gave him a blowjob, massaging his own cock through the front of his grimy jeans, feeling Billy, one of his son’s friends, slip a hand down the back of his pants and slide a finger up his fat ass.

“Yeah Pa, that’s it–you’re gonna take real good care of me from now on, won’t you? You and all my other friends I’ve been making over the last few months. I have a feeling we’re gonna be one big happy clan before too long, right?”

Evans just nodded and looked up into his son’s smiling eyes. He loved making his boy happy, it was all he cared about in the whole world.

Peter was a good looking guy in his sixties, sure. More importantly, he could still get the ladies, although to be honest, Peter’s interests ran considerably younger than he was, preferably girls in their 20’s fresh from the two college campuses in the city. They all had daddy issues in the end after all, they just needed a proper older cock to sort them all out, whether they knew it or not. He was feeling particularly on tonight, and he decided to snap a quick selfie in the bar room mirror, but he didn’t know that the mirror sprites had been following his conquests, and decided to turn the tables on the cradle robber.

Peter checked the photo on his phone and looked down at it, puzzled. It looked nothing like him! It was some chubby kid standing in what looked like a bedroom, no hair at all, wearing a pair of briefs. Confused, Peter looked up at the mirror and only grew more confused. He wasn’t in the bar anymore, he was in the bedroom, and the reflection he was staring at was the boy in the picture on his smartphone, and his jaw dropped, unable to believe his eyes. Tentatively, he ran his hands along his heavy gut, amazed at just how smooth his skin was, as opposed to the hurry chest and abs he’d had moments before…right?

Things were starting to get fuzzy, and in his head he was clambering at the old life unraveling away in the mirror–the mirror! He walked up to it and pounded on it. It had to have something to do with that, but all he could hear was a distant chatter of laughter, before a heavy knock came on his bedroom door. “Petey? Are you up?” a deep, rough voice asked, and Peter felt his stomach turn…and his cock start to get hard at the sound of his father’s voice, “It’s late–shouldn’t you be in bed? You have school in the morning.”

“Y–yeah dad, I’m just getting into my PJs,” Peter said, and a second later his dad opened the door, and he barely managed to contain a gasp at the sight of the thick, burly man who came into his room, puffing on a cigar, wearing only a pair of briefs that might have been white the year before but which looked quite a bit more yellow and sour now. The cigar smoke, something he’d always hated in his past life, now felt somehow…comforting. It reminded him of his dad, of being close to him, his cock starting to tent in his briefs, his dad smiling down at him.

“You want me to tuck you in, Petey?” his dad asked, and Peter found himself nodding, walking over to his bed and climbing on it, his dad massaging his fat ass through his briefs. “Can’t believe you’re a senior in high school already. Still, you’ll always be my little boy, right Petey?”

“Yeah daddy…of course,” Peter said, biting his lip as his dad pulled down the back of his briefs and started rubbing the stiff fabric of his filthy briefs against his crack, feeling his dad’s hard cock catch on his hungry asshole, and he started grinding back gently, letting his dad know how much he needed him inside of him. His dad slid his cock in raw, but Peter knew how to take it, knew how to stay quiet, and his dad reached around, rubbing Peter’s short, fat cock until his son exploded in his briefs, and he came soon after, filling up his son’s ass. He stripped off Peter’s briefs and held the cum soaked front up to his nose and inhaled the smell of his son’s fresh cum, and sighed. “Gonna miss you if you head off to college next year son.”

“I…I’d miss you too daddy,” Petey said, “But I can always come visit…you know.”

“Heh, and I bet we can find you some substitute daddies to fuck you while you’re away, eh?” Petey had never been fucked by anyone other than his dad before, but the idea made him…hornier than he might have expected, and after a long kiss with his dad, he slid under the covers and his dad left the room, still holding his son’s soiled briefs in his hand. “Heh, boys and their daddy issues,” he said, and went to his own bedroom for the night.

The Second Day of Christmas

“Hey…uh, dad?…Dad?” Billy said from the doorway, a small, delicately wrapped present under his arm as he stood in the doorway to his father’s office. “Dad?” he repeated again, not sure his father had heard him or not.

Without diverting his eyes from the email he was writing, Edward–Billy’s father–said, “What is it Billy? I have a slew of emails to write before I get to bed, and I have an early flight tomorrow.”

“I know, that’s why…well, you’re usually up and out so early, and it’s Christmas, and so I thought you might want to unwrap your present tonight.”

“We’re having Christmas when I get back on Friday–you know that. You can have Christmas with your mom tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but–”

“I’ll open it then Billy. Now get to bed–it’s late and you have school.”

“It’s winter break dad.”

“Well you still have studying to do, don’t you?” Edward said, growing a bit annoyed, “You aren’t going to graduate as valedictorian this spring if you don’t get an A in Japanese.”

With a frustrated sigh, Billy retreated and went to his room, and Edward kept rattling off emails, getting his team ready to be without their lead manager for the next few days while he traveled to Taiwan for a sales conference. Several hours later though, he was finished, and it was only ten–plenty of time to sleep, get up at three, and leave for the airport.

He shut down the computer and headed towards his bedroom, noticing that his son’s light was still on as he passed it. He paused for a moment, running his hand through his balding hair. Maybe he’d been too hard, but he’d already planned on having Christmas later in the week…who would have thought being a dad would have been so hard? Hell, who would have thought being a husband would have been even harder? Here he was, forty-six, a great career and no life to show for it. Still, he couldn’t stop now–he’d made his bed, so he might as well sleep in it. He trudged down the hallway, wishing he’d taken better care of his body along the way, too. He wasn’t exactly fat, but “pudgy” didn’t exactly help him meet women. He let himself into his bedroom, was surprised to find the lights were on…and that the entire room was different.

“What the fuck?” he said, staring around the room. Everything was different–but by far, the biggest change was that his bed had been replaced by a gigantic crib. The walls were all a soft baby blue, and the shelves of books and awards from his years of work had been replaced by stuffed animals and toys meant for toddlers. He stepped into the room in a bit of a daze, when he felt something strange, a warmth in his crotch, and looking down, he saw a dark stain spreading across the front of his suit pants and down one leg. He was pissing himself, right here in the middle of the room, and try as he might, he couldn’t stop the flow.

“Well, it looks like Eddie has already found his way to his new nursery, William,” a voice said behind him, and Edward spun around, finding two older gentlemen in the doorway. The first looked like some sort of sex-crazed Santa Claus, but the other–he looked to be in his sixties, with a full beard and large gut, wearing a very classy business suit, and he chuckled.

“Eddie, what have I told you about playing dress up in daddies’ suits?” the man said, walking to Edward with a smirk, but when he saw the stain on the crotch of the pants, his smile turned to a scowl, “Eddie, did you have an accident? What have I told you? Little men like you always need to keep their diapers on. Looks like someone needs a spanking…”

Before Edward could do anything about it, William had grabbed him and bent him over his leg with his pants down, smacking his ass hard enough that it made Edward cry, but after ten palms William stopped and pulled Eddie close to his chest, and he felt…he felt safe there, against his father’s chest, and he could feel his peepee starting to get hard. William felt it too, and he slid a finger into Eddie’s ass, feeling his son moan at the intrusion, and started kissing him. Santa, pleased with the new father son relationship, left them for the chimney, and it was a few hours later, well fucked and safely diapered, that William settled Eddie into his new crib, resolving to be a much better daddy than “Edward” had ever been to him.

The Lizardman Plot (Part 1)

by Wesley Bracken

Commissioned by: Guderian

WARNING: This one is strange too. Scalies, F to M TF, raunch, incest other stuff….

“What if they turn around? They can still see us!”

“Would you just come on? You said you’d be able to keep up.”

Matt blushed, but Krista had already stepped out from behind the shipping container and was dashing across the drive towards the main building of the complex, and Matt pushed himself up off the ground and hurried after her, but he wasn’t quite as well equipped as she was for running. She–six foot three, lithe and limber, gymnast and karate enthusiast, and he–short pudgy art major, emphasis photography, more used to watching scenes than participating in them. Still, he did his best to keep up, and managed to come up next to her beside the building, where there was a window high on the factory wall above them.

“Give me a boost,” Krista said.

“Wait, what?”

“Come on, get me up to the window. I’ll sneak in and open the door.”

“I don’t think that’s–”

“Would you quit thinking so hard and just do it? That security cart is going to come around again eventually, and if you don’t hurry up and boost me, then they’re going to catch us, and then we’re going to be in as much shit as everyone we’re looking. Do you want to find your brother or not?”

Matt gulped. Travis was the reason he’d gotten sucked into this whole conspiracy in the first place. He had to find him–it was his fault that he’d gone missing in the first place. Matt had been looking out for him after everything that happened with their parents when he’d suddenly disappeared, and that had led him to Krista’s website where she cataloged the massive string of disappearances which it seemed like everyone of importance was turning a blind eye towards. While Krista had never really respected, nor trusted, Matt much, she had been impressed with his photography and camera work, especially after he documented a kidnapping in an alley on the street, two men with strange golden eyes luring some young men into the back of a van. He’d helped her confront a few politicians and police officers on camera as well, but while the videos had gone a bit viral, still nothing was being done. They needed an expose, and for that, she knew they needed to get into the complex.

It was huge, but then again, every building in the industrial district was huge. The disappearances had begun right after the ribbon cutting ceremony–which had been attended by nearly every city politician, and most of the police force. The truth was in there, she was sure of it, and so she glared Matt down until he sighed, clasped his hands into a step and braced himself, letting Krista step up and push herself off, grabbing the ledge and pulling herself up, where she fiddled with the window for a moment and slipped inside. Matt, meanwhile, did his very best to make himself as small as possible in the shadows, and hoped that no one would notice him, should they pass by again. Still, he wasn’t exactly hard to spot–he was a big, clumsy guy really, and Krista was already furious at him for the noise he’d made climbing over the fence earlier. Still, he didn’t have to wait long. He saw the door near where he was crouching pop open, and Krista motioned him to join her inside. After taking a quick look around, he hurried in, nearly tripping and sprawling out on the gravel, but he caught himself–or rather, Krista caught him and yanked him inside where they tumbled into a heap.

They disentangled in an awkward moment, Matt blushing and apologizing quietly as he did, and Krista just looked at him, obviously regretting having him along. Still, he was the one with the camera know-how, and she was the one with the skills–they had to work together for any of this to work out at all. Besides, she could use an extra set of eyes, as clumsy as he might be. Still, they were inside, for better or worse, and Krista led Matt up onto a high catwalk, hopefully out of sight from anyone on the ground, and from the dust on the railing, she assumed it wasn’t highly trafficked. With Krista in the lead, and Matt behind her, doing his best to calm his nerves, they pressed their way deeper into the facility, the rooms becoming hotter and steamier, stinking like a swamp before too long.

They hadn’t gone far, however, when they saw that it wasn’t people who were staffing the facility, but something else entirely. They were all lizardmen, or at least that’s the best description that either one of them could come up with. They found themselves in a steamy, swelteringly hot room, one side of the room covered with dials and controls, pistons and pipes all of them staffed and manned by lizards, but from their high vantage, hidden amongst the pipes clustered at the ceiling, they could see that there were really two types of lizards below them. Most of the work was being done by larger lizards that looked like alligators who had figured out how to walk on their hind legs. Around the room, manning computers and supervising the gators were slender, muscular raptors, their eyes far more intelligent…and even a bit cruel. They saw one of the gators trip up suddenly, and faster than they could see, a raptor had hopped down and was beating it back upright, forcing it to get back to work at the machine wall.

Something else they couldn’t help but notice was that all of the lizards were male. The gators all had normal sized cocks and balls–or they would be normal on a person. On their large, wide frames, they actually looked small. Such was not the case with the raptors–their cocks were all huge, and they all remained erect or semi-erect as they watched. On occasion, a raptor would obviously become horny and summon a gator to service it, before sending it back to the wall. However, at the center of much of the activity was one raptor who was different from the others–his eyes were not the greenish hazel of all the rest–they were speckled with gold and shone in the dim light of the room. He seemed to be in charge, and as Matt looked around the room, he noticed that there was a gator walking along the wall, supervising the workers, who had the same golden eyes, and something else was glinting there, on his wrist…

He let out a gasp and pointed the gator out to Krista. Through the haze of steam they could actually see them quite well, and the one Matt indicated had a glint of metal around it’s wrist. “That’s Travis’ bracelet! What in the fuck is one of those things doing with my brother’s fucking bracelet?”

“How do you know it’s even his?”

“I just know, alright? I’m the one who bought it for him.”

“Look,” Krista said, “We can’t exactly go down there and interrogate it–we don’t even know if they can speak English. Let’s just keep going–we have to try and find the prisoners anyway–that’s where your brother will be.”

Matt grimaced, and followed Krista for a few paces along the catwalk, but then stopped, looking back at the gator, and for a moment, the gator looked away from it’s machine and locked eyes with Matt, the sight freezing him in place, and Matt knew he couldn’t leave–that gator knew something about his brother, he just knew it. Still, even though the gator had seen him, he didn’t sound an alarm–it just kept minding the workers…but why? “No…No, you go on ahead, I need to follow this fucker,” he said to Krista.

“We can’t split up Matt,” Krista said, “and every second we spend out in the open is risking us getting caught.”

“No…No, I don’t know why, but this is important. Just go on ahead, I’ll catch up.”

“You are so fucking stubborn–”

“I’m not going, Krista, so go find the prisoners, and text me when you do–we’ll figure out how to get out then.”

“But I need your camera. Without evidence, we can’t get anyone to take this seriously–do you know how crazy this is going to sound if we try to report a factory full of lizards?”

Matt just thought for a moment, and then started snapping pictures of the room below. “This is plenty of evidence–go find the prisoners…I’m gonna figure out what this fucking gator did to my brother. I’ll just slow you down anyway.”

Krista could tell that Matt had made up his mind, and with an exasperated sigh hurried off down the catwalk, leaving her partner and his camera behind as she ventured deeper into the factory. She passed several more rooms like the first, filled with gators working at the side of other massive walls of dials and levers, and that was when she realized that all of the rooms were connected to the same, massive contraption. The factory was actually a building housing one massive machine, and she was pacing the side of it, and after another room or two, she heard the screams–human screams–coming from wall only to be suddenly cut off, one after the other, from the inside of the machine the lizards were running. Was it…killing them in there? Each room after that was terrible, the screams continuous and growing louder, and she could hear them coming from the direction she was heading, from what she assumed to be the beginning of the machine. When she reached the final room, and saw the raptors shoving their human prisoners into the gaping maw of the massive device, her legs failed her, and she had to sit down, watching man, woman and child herded into the machine, screaming and shouting for help–but no one could help them, not even her, not this many of them.

This was huge–it was bigger than she could have ever imagined. How long had this been going on? What in the world was this machine even doing to people? Certainly it was killing them…but why this huge machine if all you’re doing is executing them? Was it turning humanity into food? Energy? She had no idea, she didn’t want to have any idea. What in the world could anyone even do about this? People must already know, important people, people who could stop it, there had to be some massive conspiracy behind all of this for it to have even been built in the heart of the city. Matt and her had uncovered something far larger than they could have ever imagined, but she had to do something, she had to. That was when she noticed that she had been spotted.

This room had neither the steam nor the pipes which had hidden her from view in the earlier rooms, and now two of the raptors were heading up a stairwell onto the catwalk. Krista got up and went to run in the opposite direction, only to see that two other raptors were racing up to cut off her escape route. Instead of waiting for all four to converge on her, she charged at the two coming from behind, catching them off guard at the top of the stairs, grabbing the first raptor and hurling him off the catwalk to the ground below. The second, however, rammed into her, slamming her back against the railing and almost toppling her over as well. She fought him off for a few moments, punching and kicking, but by then the other two had caught up with them, and between the three raptors, they pinned her down and dragged her off the catwalk and to the front of the line, all three of them hissing at themselves. She had no idea what they were saying, but they almost sounded…like they were laughing? She didn’t know, but she fought harder as they moved her to the front of the line, flipped a few dials and changed a few settings on the control panels, and then pitched her head first into the gaping maw of the machine.

***

Matt remained on the catwalk for almost an hour, hunkered down, watching his target obsessively, as he moved from station to station. The heat of the room, especially up high in the steam, was getting to Matt, and he was starting to sweat, and he fidgited in place, trying to stay still, but at the same time angry and terrified and desperate to see that gator. Several times, through the zoom lens on his camera, he examined the gator’s bracelet, reaffirming for himself that it really was his brother’s. What in the world was the gator doing with it? He settled down slowly, and off and on, the gator would look up at him on the catwalk, lock eyes with Matt for a moment or two, and grin, before returning to his work, and eventually Matt realized something–he couldn’t move.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to move, it was that he literally couldn’t. He was stuck in place, and he couldn’t even explain why. The one thing he could move was his eyes, and they could only follow the gator, watch him, waiting for him to look up at him, waiting for another chance to see the gator’s eyes, his beautiful, golden, captivating eyes. They might have looked like shiny mud at first, but each time Matt got another look at them, he could see the gold specks embedded in it’s irises, the smooth curve of it’s vertical pupils, he loved it’s eyes in ways that Matt couldn’t even explain. How long had he been sitting there, his legs going numb, arms limp, eyes focused only on the gator below him? He barely heard the whistle, even though it sounded from a speaker only a few feet away from him, and he watched the gators, exhausted and sweaty, all file away from the machine, replaced by a slew of fresh ones ready for their own shift, and after only a minute of downtime the machine was up and running once again, and Matt’s eyes watched his gator slip away from the crowd leaving the room, climb up the steps to the catwalk, and make its way to where Matt was sitting, frozen, terrified and also somehow eager, and he saw just how huge the gator’s were.

From above, they had just seemed large, but from where he was crouched down, the eight foot tall beast, weighing in at over 500 pounds, stinking of musk and swamp, claws clicking against the metal of the catwalk, towered over him. Matt was scared though, every space in his mind was reserved for the gator’s eyes, following them, enraptured, and the closer the lizard came, the clearer he could hear it, the voice in his head, the voice telling him to stay still, to not move, to watch only him. He knew that voice though, it was Travis’s voice–why was he hearing Travis? And then, the gator came to a stop in front of him, and the voice told Matt to stand up, and this close, mere inches from the gator’s jaws, the hot breath against face, Matt finally realized why. The gator hadn’t done something to his brother.

The gator was his brother.

He had no idea how he could know that, some small cue, some instinctive certainty, some base recognition. His brother recognized him, as well, but Matt could sense his confusion. Matt wasn’t supposed to be here, he wasn’t even supposed to recognize him. The voice was digging around in Matt’s mind now through their locked gaze, trying to figure out their relation, and it saw how Matt had gotten in with Krista, and then bumbled deeper into Matt’s thoughts and memories, looking at remembrances of it’s old self and comparing them to it’s own distant memories and grudges and anger–it’s saw its human body through Matt’s mind’s eye in confusion. The gator broke the gaze finally, the voice leaving Matt’s head, and he stumbled back. Still, after sitting for so long his body wasn’t quite ready to move, and he fell back onto the catwalk, the gator taking a couple of steps back as well, as confused and disturbed as Matt, but also very, very angry–at Matt.

Matt realized now, why the gator hadn’t sounded an alarm or reported him. He had been as curious about Matt as Matt had been towards him. And now that they knew the truth of it, neither one of them knew what to do. “T–Travis?” Matt managed to say, “Travis, what did they do to you?”

The gator took a step back again, shaking it’s head, hissing something but unable to speak, and then it glared at Matt, the anger there freezing Matt in place once more, and Matt felt so much–pain, fear, anger–everything his brother had experienced. Was he blaming him for what had happened? He hadn’t meant for it to happen; how could he have known what their parents would do? He’d just panicked, couldn’t he see that? Matt tried to tell him that he was here to help, that he wanted to save him, but the gator wasn’t listening. Frozen in place once again, the gator turned and walked away, Matt struggling against the paralysis as he watched his brother hurry back down the catwalk and disappear into the complex.

For the next few minutes, Matt tried as hard as he could to break free from the control holding him in place, but by the time the gator returned with a slim, muscular raptor in tow, all Matt could do was wiggle his fingers. The two lizards returned, and the raptor seemed pleased, especially when Travis reached down and started massaging the raptors huge cock until it was rock hard. The raptor went to grab Matt and haul him off, but the gator stopped him, and they had some hissed conversation, Travis seemed to be suggesting something to the raptor, reaching out with one clawed hand to stroke the toned beasts’ hard cock. The raptor seemed…hesitant, and that was when the gator locked eyes with Matt again, and he stood up, stripping off his clothing in a trance, and when he was naked, he bent over and started fingering his ass with two fingers, unable to stop himself from moaning, unable to beat back the voice telling him to make it good, telling him how much he wanted to please these lizards, how much he wanted to be fucked by the raptor’s massive cock.

The display was enough for the raptor to be convinced, and he walked around behind Matt, gripping the man’s fat thighs in his sharp claws, drawing blood as he slid his thick, foot long cock deep into Matt’s hole. He would have screamed if not for the voice muting him, Travis–no, not Travis, Travis would never do this to him. The gator locked eyes with him, convincing him that this is what he wanted–what he needed, but it was more than that. Matt could remember how he had outed Travis to their parents, how they had kicked him out of the house. Matt had felt guilty, he tried to explain himself, his fear, but the gator wasn’t listening, and Matt, suddenly, smelled something amazing. The musk and sweat and filth rolling off the gator’s body–he needed it. He leaned forward, pressing his face into the scaled belly, licking all of it up, the gator grabbing both sides of his face and smearing it all over him, Matt panting in pain as the raptor behind him started plowing him, not even caring, Matt working a bit lower until he was sucking and licking at his gator brother’s cock, hungry for gator cum in all of his holes, or even more than that. The raptor behind him let out a wild hiss, and Matt felt him pump one load of cum into his ass, and just keep on fucking–the sight of his brother’s ass filled with lizard cum was too much for the gator as well, and he came, Matt drinking down all of his load as well.

The gator hissed something at the raptor, and he pulled out his cock for a few moments, letting them reposition Matt so that he was lying on his back on the metal catwalk. The raptor hefted his legs into the air and resumed fucking him, still hard as a rock, the gator looming over Matt, locking eyes with him, the perversions flowing into Matt’s mind at a hectic pace, the hunger, and then the gator let loose a blast of piss, soaking his one time brother’s face, Matt opening his mouth the drink down the strange smelling urine as quickly as he could, and when the gator finished, he turned around, squatted down and sat right on his face, Matt shivering with pleasure from the stink and musk of the gator’s ass, and licked and sucked at the grime, shoving his tongue as deep up his ass as he could, feeling the gator’s fat tail wrap it’s way around his cock and start jacking him off. Matt tried to resist, but it was only seconds before he was cumming, spasming under the gator’s bulk, barely able to breathe but so pleased that he could be serving these lizards. All of them came once more, the raptor flooding cum so deep up Matt’s ass that he couldn’t even hold it all in when he pulled out, Travis cumming once more with Matt’s tongue buried up his hole, and then he made Matt lovingly lick his cock, balls, belly and gunt clean afterwards.

Matt, however, knew that his brother had something else planned for him, he could tell by the tone of the conversation going on between the raptor and the gator. Eventually, the raptor dragged the exhausted and well fucked Matt off in one direction, and he watched the gator go off in another direction, check a few dials and screens on the machine, and then slipped into the machine itself. Matt tried to fight off the lizard dragging him off to the front of the machine, where people were still being filed into the machine, but there was nothing he could do to fight him off. The raptor, however, took Matt to a different portal where no one was waiting, and started manipulating the controls, grinning at Matt before shoving him into the machine, Matt trying to crawl out before the door slammed shut behind him, trapping him inside, doomed to whatever fate his brother had planned for him.

The tattoo artist took one look at Lucas shaking in the chair, a scrawny eighteen year old kid getting his first tattoo, and just shook his head. “Man, I can’t put anything on your skin if you don’t sit still.”

“Sorry…I’m just nervous,” Lucas said, blushing a bit. He’d always wanted a tattoo, and it was going to be his present to himself for graduating from high school last week, before going off to college.

“Look, you want me to give you something to help settle you down?” the artist said, smirking.

“I don’t do drugs.”

“It’s not a drug, just something to keep you still.”

Lucas relented, and took the pill the artist handed him, but after a few minutes he stopped shaking. In fact, after a few minutes he couldn’t move at all–he was frozen in the chair, and the artist’s smirk was looking a bit more sinister, and he called someone on the phone and said, “Pass it on, we’re havin’ an auction tonight.”

The shop closed down for the night, but men were still filing into the room. Lucas was still frozen in the chair, and looking at the collection of tattooed bikers and trailer trash eyeing him up and down. He didn’t know what was going on, as the artist started the bidding, and a short older man with a big beard and long hair, covered in tattoos won the auction, and they started the consultation, planning what to do with Lucas’ tattoos–and his body.

By morning, the older man was dragging a very different Lucas out of the tattoo shop, his chest and arms covered in crude tattoos, his young slender body covered with fat, his hair long greasy and unwashed. His new daddy raped him for the first time in the back of the truck–well, it wasn’t really rape by the end, with Lucas begging him to plow his fat ass harder, and they drove home to the trailer park, the old daddy very happy with his new tattooed son.

You like the smell of my piss ‘n cum in that toilet, don’t you, boy? Yeah, you probably didn’t smell it right away, but look at how horny it’s got you already. Can’t stop, can you? Don’t worry, I don’t want you to stop, and you obviously don’t want to stop, so why don’t you just keep on jacking off for daddy?

Bet you didn’t even hear me come in here last night, eh? You were pretty damn drunk, I doubt you remember much of anything. Thought you were all alone, waking up, going in to have your morning piss, and now here you are, jacking off, one of your fingers probing that sweet little hole of yours. Yeah boy, you remember me at all? I was at that club last night, watching you, smokin’ my cigar. Here, why don’t you have a taste? Go on–take it easy though, you don’t have the lungs for a full draw yet. Fuck yeah, so fuckin’ hot, watching that smoke billow out that mouth of yours. Give it to me, gonna suck the smoke out of your lungs, boy.

Sweet, fuckin’ sweet. So, how’s that hole of yours? Gettin’ loose? I bet you need something better than all those fingers, eh? How about some daddy dick? The dick I’ve been savin’ for you all night long. Gonna fuck you right here on the toilet boy, over this nasty swill of our piss ‘n cum. Go on, smell it boy, take a deep breath of that funk, our smoke, or piss…just let it relax you back…that’s it.

See that wasn’t so bad. I’m all the way in ya boy, all the way up this hole of yours, and from that load of cum you just sprayed, I think you like it. I have a feeling we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together from now on–you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You can come over to my place, and we can work out together, father and son, getting all pumped and sweaty and musky, plenty of cigar and fuck breaks. Gonna have you stinkin’ and smokin’ like a good muscle jockboy soon enough. Now suck that cigar–daddy needs focus on fuckin’.

When I saw him go intah the bar, I knew I had tah have him. Still, he was a straight, hot jock, ‘n I was just a old, redneck pig, headin’ intah town fer a hot manfuck like I usually did once a month. It was hard findin’ a good fuck out in the country where I live, but I hated the idea a livin’ in the city. Usually I’d spend the weekend in a bathhouse, fuckin’ the nights away, but this time, well, I figured I could jus’ have a looksie fer a bit, before gettin’ on mah way.

I still don’ know what happened, really. I was sippin’ mah beer in a booth, watchin’ him ‘n his friends at the bar, when he went ‘n tried tah chat up some chick a few stools down–she didn’t take it very well, tah say the least, ‘n everyone heard what she shouted tah him:

“Maybe not everyone you’re attracted to finds you the least bit attractive–did you think of that? Maybe we should see how you like being treated like a piece of meat!”

I don’ know what came o’er me, but I was up, hikin’ up mah grimy jeans, and saunterin’ o’er tah where he was standin’ at the bar. I was tryin’ tah stop myself, I didn’ know what the fuck I was doin’ but then the words were fallin’ outa mah mouth, tellin’ him tah be a good boy ‘n stop harassin’ the pretty lady ‘n git back over tah the booth with me, and he fuckin’ followed me! The chick and his friends gawked, but they couldn’ do anythin’ fer some reason, ‘n I proceeded tah git the boy plastered before he could change his mind.

Now I tend tah be a bit of a bottom in the sack, but with the boy, fuck, I wanted mah cock in every one a his holes all night long, callin’ him all sorts a names, watchin’ him squirm under mah big gut, ‘n I gotta admit, I liked it. Needless tah say, he came home with me, like a good little bitch, ‘n we cut off that mangy hair a his, and got him dressed up in overalls like a proper hick, ‘n he’s already forgettin’ that he used tah live in the big city. Ah don’t know what that witch did, but I ain’t complainin’. I found mah boy, ‘n I ain’t ever gonna let him leave.