Curse of the Homophobe (Part 5)

No–no, this isn’t him. This isn’t his life! He was younger, he was younger and he…he lived in the city, and he was going to school…but so many of the details were missing. This life seemed so much more real than that one–he’d let himself get sucked in too far. The pig was sucking on his foot, and he kicked it off, making it squeal, and ran to the bathroom. He needed to be alone, he needed some time to think. The bathroom was filthy, filthier than anything he’d seen before in his life, but he felt so…comfortable in it. He looked at himself, at the hulking, stinking man he’d become, hair everywhere, and he…hated himself. He hated that he’d let himself become this disgusting thing, this thing he’d never wanted to be, and he wanted out.

But do you remember?

Was that his voice? No–he remembered that voice. Is was that darkness, from that night in his room, a room he couldn’t remember, but the darkness he knew very well. It terrified him, the searing laughter in the question. It knew he couldn’t remember, not all of it.

You can’t go back if you don’t remember–just forget it all. Wouldn’t it be easier to stay?

He shook his head, hair flying. He focused on what he could remember. On youth, on…school, of some sort, on sports…he could remember something about sports, and being a jock…or had that been another life? It all seemed so muddled together in his memory, and trying to pull any of it apart only made it seem like it would crumble at any moment. It was working, though. He could feel his body shifting–shrinking somewhat, his mind clearing, the redneck pig farmer slipping away into the dark, back into the spirit that had conjured it. His memory was becoming clearer now. He could remember school–college. College? Hadn’t he been going to high school?

He opened his eyes and saw his face. A face he could recognize better, without all of the hair around him. Younger, but still grungy. He had a short beard now, mostly because he was too lazy to bother with shaving, or really much hygiene at all…right? Hadn’t he been cleaner? It was too hard to remember, and resisting the spirit was too much of a struggle. This wasn’t…right, but it was better. It was what he had. He splashed some water on his face, and the room around him started to twist as well. Still a bathroom, but not the bathroom from the trailer…but also not his own bathroom in the dorm where he lived. Where…was he?

There was a knock on the door. “Hey, sexy fucker–I’ll throw in another 200 if you…leave me something in that toilet.”

His guts twisted–it was Robbie, the filthy construction worker he’d sleep with on occasion because he’d pay him 500 for a fuck–and honesty…Evan did kind of like how much of a filthy pig he was. Didn’t like him enough that he’d fuck him for free of course, but he couldn’t get sex like this from anyone else. Robbie would do anything to lick Evan clean after football practice, among other things…and 200 hundred extra dollars couldn’t hurt. He sat down, did his business, didn’t flush, and then left. Robbie took a look, shoved the 700 into his hand and pushed him out of the apartment, barely giving Evan a chance to get his shorts and shirt back on, and then he was out, his life sorting itself out in his mind as he left the shoddy apartment building where Robbie lived a few blocks from campus, and headed for his dorm.

His memory was clearer now–he could remember better who he’d been–Evan the slender twink, a senior in high school–but the opportunity to get back there had closed. Who he was now was…substantially different, especially physically. His body was packed with muscle and fat, the perfect build for an offensive lineman. He’d aged up, and was a junior in college, on track for a potential pro career, if his sexuality didn’t torpedo things for him. He was also out of the closet–a rarity, and the team kind of hated him for it, but he was so good, no one gave him shit…usually. In fact, walking back to campus, it was the first time he could remember walking anywhere in the city, and no one called him a queer, or a faggot…or even really noticed him much at all. It was a relief in some ways. It meant that the curse was less likely to trigger, if nothing else.

He got a text on his phone, and saw, with some surprise, it was from Curtis. He, apparently, was going to college now too, and had sent him a pic of him naked, bent over, ass to the camera–one of his standard booty calls. Evan’s cock jumped to attention, tenting out the front of his mesh shorts. Even though he’d just plowed Robbie’s fat ass…he could always use a round with Curtis. No one had a hole like his…but he couldn’t. He needed help–someone somewhere had to know about this curse, and how to get rid of it, but where could he go? He didn’t know anything about this stuff, after all. Maybe it would be best to try and forget about it, if there was nothing he could do about it. So he headed for Curtis’ dorm instead, let himself in, and spent the next half hour fucking the twink’s tight hole until it was nice and loose, loving how high the bitch could moan, loving how he could make him beg–loving the power he had. The power he had over both of them now, he supposed, since Robbie was the same…just with different inclinations. No one was going to talk shit about him, not to his face at least. Maybe…maybe he could be safe like this, if he just kept his head down, and didn’t make waves. Maybe the spirit would get tired of him, and go away on its own, if he refused to give it what it wanted.

He did his best, for a few days. He went to practice, and went to class, fucked Curtis regularly, finding the rhythm of this new life. Not once in that time did he hear a slur…and he was beginning to have hope that he might be normal enough now to get through this. The curse was willing to be patient though, because it knew he would hear something soon enough–not even something necessarily directed at him. Someone would be talking about him behind his back–or he would hear a slur directed at someone else he was with. It wouldn’t matter–he’d change again, and the spirit would have its satisfaction.

***

Alright, who’s going to insult him this time?

  1. His preppy, conservative roommate complains about him.
  2. He overhears two coaches talking shit about him after practice.
  3. He and Curtis get stopped by cops after going to a gay bar.
  4. Some ROTC members gossip about him nearby.

Here’s the twitter poll

Here’s the patron poll

Voting ends on Tuesday!

Curse of the Homophobe (Part 1) [Interactive]

Evan was tired of it. Tired of the insults, of being shoved into lockers at school, of guys shouting “faggot” and “queer” at him from the windows of passing cars. All of it. There wasn’t anything he could do about it though–and in his opinion, there wasn’t even anything that “faggy” about him–not like some of the guys he’d seen, or some of the guys in the porn he liked to watch, he supposed. Yeah, he had a bit of a lisp, and he tended to sashay slightly–that, and he definitely loved sucking dick. Still, where the insults would have reduced most people to tears and depression, Evan reacted differently. He was angry. Angry all of the time, so angry, he barely even noticed it anymore, it was just a constant, seething, bubbling mass in his guts that never went away. He’d have fantasies though. Fantasies about the men who bullied him, about beating them, humiliating them, doing what they did to him right back, but tenfold. Maybe it was that, which drew the spirit to him–but in any case, he never really knew why it appeared to him that night in his bedroom, after one particularly cruel fantasy, thinking about some jocks he had a run in with earlier that day. He’d wiped up his cum, and there it had been, a massive, hulking shadow glued to his wall, two bright, gem-like eyes where it’s head was, staring at him.

The terror in him was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, as it slid along the wall, closer to him. Then, he saw something. A powerful vision overtook him, similar to the fantasy he’d just had, but far more powerful. Bending over Curtis Barrister, the top jock of the school, and Evan raping his hole while he rained abuse down on him–but it was so vivid…like it really was happening. Then, it was gone, and he heard a voice in his mind.

I can give you the power. You can have your revenge on all of them, if you so desire it.

For real? Was this just some hallucination? A nightmare? If it was, then does it really matter? He did want it. He had a feeling this thing wouldn’t have come to him, if he hadn’t known he would accept its offer. The darkness slid closer to him, and then slid over him, and everything went dark, and he couldn’t move his body. The darkness was more inside him, and he could feel it, in that anger in his stomach, changing it, changing…him somehow, and he came again, the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had, and then fell right asleep, the spirit chuckling in the dark, as it faded away. Evan would have his revenge, certainly, but it likely wouldn’t be the sort of revenge he was expecting. Anger could twist people in strange ways, after all–and vengeance was never kind to the avenger.

Evan woke up the next morning, certain it had been a dream, and nothing more. He got up and got ready for school, but he still couldn’t shake the sensation that something about him was different. He was still angry, but it…tasted different, when he felt it, but that didn’t make sense even to him, when he experienced it. There was a definite sense, too, that things would be different today, like how he felt when a thunderstorm was on the way. He said goodbye to his mother, left the apartment and hit the street, walking to school…wondering when the first insult would hit. But the anticipation was different too, in his guts. Usually he just felt fear and anger as he braced himself, but today, part of him was almost…excited. Eager to experience it, and that terrified the rest of him even more. Still, who knew what the day would hold? Maybe everything would be fine. The spirit in him knew better, though–and it was eager to see the curse it had laid on Evan work for the first time.

He made it all the way to school, however, before the first insult came his way–and sure enough, it was none other than Curtis Barrister himself, and his posse of football friends, calling him a faggot. His face burned red…but he felt that same heat infusing the rest of him too, and he was feeling a bit…sick. He went to the bathroom near the entrance of the school and ducked into one of the stalls–and as soon as he was alone, he looked down, and saw his body was…changing. He grew six inches taller, body filling out with muscle, his skinny jeans and tank top became gym shorts and a t-shirt bearing the mascot of the high school–along with word football. No–he tried to fight it, but there was nothing he could do–when he stumbled out a minute later, Evan was gone–or at least, he wasn’t the Evan he should be. He was…a jock. Strong jaw, flat top, cocky grin, and worst of all, he knew he was best friends with Curtis.

His head throbbed, and Evan–the gay Evan, receded. In his place, someone else took control of his body, a very, very straight Evan–sort of. He was, still gay, actually–but this version of him was deeply in the closet, barely able to admit it to himself. Still, this new version of himself would know exactly how to act around his straight jock friends–and with his girlfriend, Stephanie Hawkins. The whole day was torture, hanging out with his new jock buddies, kissing his girlfriend, making fun of nerds and even throwing a few barbs at his friends…but as he did, Evan noticed something else. Whenever he threw a casual insult at Curtis or one of the other jocks…they changed. Not much, but enough that he began to understand what this curse was–and what the spirit was offering him.

After practice, he and Curtis happened to hang back chatting a bit, and showered alone together. He accused Curtis of looking at his cock, and called him a faggot, and watched as his bully started to get hard–and so Evan decided to have his way with him, shoving him up against the shower wall and fucking his loose hole, calling him a faggy sissy, a weak little cocksucker, and watched as his words came to life. When he finally came, it was a very different Curtis who fled the locker room–barely 150 pounds, short, ass and mouth hungry for cock all the time–the exact kind of faggot Curtis had always seen him as. He was horrified by what he’d done–but even more horrified when he saw himself in the mirror of the locker room. He was…massive. Thick with muscle, hairy all over, the exact kind of alpha jock he’d always detested–and feared. This…he wasn’t stuck like this, was he? He could…sense that the curse would, now that he’d dealt with his primary target, let him change back, or he could visit a few of the other jocks on the team too. But if he did…who would he become then? Would he even remember who he’d been before? No–he wanted to change back–he pushed his way forward, and saw the hulking frame in the mirror begin to recede at last.

He was back in his old body, but not everything was back to normal. He was more muscular for one thing, and he remembered, now, that he was on the track and field team, when he’d never played sports once in his life. He was hairier too–was this all because of what he’d done to Curtis? He got home as quickly as he could, but struggled to fall asleep–and got a text from a number he didn’t know late at night–it was Curtis, looking for a fuck. He had new memories now of Curtis, a hopeless sex addict, as a frequent fuckbuddy at school, and his stomach turned into knots all over again. He could hear the spirit laughing in his very soul, and Evan knew all he could do was wait until someone else insulted him–and he’d be forced to change them as well.


Alright, so for those of you who visit CYOC, this is loosely inspired by the branch of straight TF and “were-breeder” stories that are somewhat popular (and which I have contributed to in the past). I’ve always found an appeal in them, but also found some of them super uncomfortable, so I want to push them in a slightly different direction with this interactive. This intro is a bit longer than usual, just to give an overview of how the curse functions, but for clarity’s sake, Here’s an explanation:

First, when Evan hears a homophobic insult directed at him, he will find himself helplessly transforming into someone similar to the person who insulted him. For example, if it’s a jock, he becomes a jock too, or a redneck, or a skinhead, or whatever it might be. Evan is still present, but his body’s new persona is doing most of the driving–that is, he can’t really act out of his new “straight” character. That said, his personas are all still, technically, gay–but deep in the closet.

Then, in his straight-acting persona, reality shifts so that he is friends with the person who insulted him–and he discovers that whenever he insults him (and people around him who share his views) those insults are capable of changing them.

However, the more he changes them, the more he changes as well, the persona becoming more and more extreme, and the more danger he is in of forgetting about his real self, and the persona taking over for good. He can only change back after he turns the original insulter gay and has sex with them (he can be bottom or top, but will usually tend towards top in this scenario), but he can remain in the persona longer if there are other people he wants to change–at the risk of losing more of himself. When he changes back, he keeps some of the qualities of the persona he had before–the more extreme he became, the more likely the changes will stick.

So, with that out of the way–what sort of person is going to insult Evan next?

  1. A gang of skinheads threaten him on the street.
  2. Some gaming nerds at school being edgelords.
  3. Some middle-aged construction workers on his way to school.
  4. A prudish, older conservative christian neighbor.

Here’s the twitter poll!

Here’s the Patron poll!

Polls close in two days.

The Carnival (Part 8) [Interactive]

“I don’t really feel like going down with strangers,” one of the frat brothers, Dylan, said, “That sounds really awkward.”

“Yeah, the whole point was to go together anyway,” Garth added.

They all agreed, then, to try their luck and go as one big group together, but it wasn’t until they were in line a bit further on that all three of them got a little self-conscious. All around them were heterosexual couples, most of them younger, but a few older married couples from town too, and then there was the three of them together. None of them were the least bit gay, but the looks they were getting from others were making them second guess their idea. The line wasn’t long though, and they got to the ride entrance before any of them lost their nerve. The inside was all decorated in garish pinks and reds, and the air smelt of flowers. It was cloying, and all three of them were already rolling their eyes at the kitchy setup, as they stepped up to the next boat, and the carny minding the ride, gave them a look.

“All three of us want to go together,” Finn said, the other two suppressing a chuckle. To their surprise, however, the man just shrugged, and told them that he’d unhook one of the three’s company boats they kept for special requests. Where the other, two seater boats were all bench like, the larger boat was designed in a circle, with a small table in the middle and high sides giving a bit more privacy than they were really comfortable with. Still, they all climbed in, the carny secured the door, and sent them off floating into the pink light, the dock disappearing as they rounded the first corner.

There was no sound–no music, and not even the sound of other people ahead or behind them, even though they couldn’t have been that distant from them. It was a little unnerving, and the surroundings were rather uninteresting. Some flowering plants on the rock walls, the occasional small waterfall giving off a bit of sound, and just the sound of them all breathing, wondering what they should say. They knew they should be making fun of it, but now it seemed heavy and serious, none of them able to look one another in the eye as a mist began to rise from the water around them, and spill over the sides of the boat. It had the same scent as earlier, but much more pungent–strong enough that all three of them began to feel lightheaded. Garth looked out, trying to see the walls and the way forward, but he couldn’t see anything at all through the fog. He sat back down, only to find Finn had leaned over, and was kissing Dylan–gently, but it was growing more passionate, Dylan leaning into it, hungry for it, and all Garth felt was an immediate, desperate horniness.

Those two…how had he never seen them like this before? In the locker room, out on the field, in the bathroom showers…He scooched around and started feeling Dylan’s body, and he turned away from Finn to kiss him instead, while Finn reached over, toying with their cocks and nipples gently, and then leaning over and stealing Garth’s mouth from Dylan. Time seemed to slow down as their desires intensified, the water still, the whole space quiet aside from their gentle moans and soft sighs into one another’s mouths. However, the boat kept moving on, deeper into the tunnel, the light growing dimmer and dimmer as they reached the heart, all three of them feeling new memories, desires, and most of all, love, filing their minds and their souls until they thought they might burst–until they did burst, in fact, all three of them cumming together, and then arriving at the other end of the tunnel. In the light, they could see that more had changed than just their desires…but this was normal now. The three of them would be together for as long as they live–though what kind of relationship do they have now?


So, what does the boys’ new relationship look like?

  1. Two daddy bears with a diapered boy
  2. An incestuous redneck family
  3. A leather master and two slaves

Here’s the twitter poll

Here’s the patreon poll

Polls close in two days!

The Carnival (Part 4)

“Why in the world do they even call it a funhouse? This shit is lame,” Daniel said, as they entered the tunnel leading into the attraction, after paying the admission price at the little booth outside the space.

“Lighten up Daniel, it’s just for laughs, right?” Will said.

Jake was in the lead, and didn’t say anything, as the light grew dimmer inside the tunnel.

“But you guys saw that shit, right? At that hypnosis show? That…what the fuck even was that?” Daniel said, “I…I think that shit was real.”

“It was just mass hypnosis,” Jake said without any real interest.

“What?”

“Mass hypnosis. Dr. Watch put everyone in the audience under during his induction. I didn’t notice it, but the way the light bounced off the watch and caught everyone’s eye. He’s really good, to make everyone believe what they were seeing.”

Daniel didn’t quite know how that explanation sat with him. It did make sense, he supposed, but it had seemed so…real, somehow. He didn’t really want to be here anymore, in any case–he didn’t even know why he’d come along with this. “I…I think I’m just going to head back to campus,” he said, turned around, only to discover that the entrance of the tunnel they’d walked through just moments before had disappeared. Behind them, there was nothing but darkness. “Uh…where the hell did the entrance go?”

Jake just shrugged, “It’s there–the path probably just curved gently enough we didn’t notice it, and now we can’t see the entrance around the curve.”

“Do you have to try and explain everything? This shit is fucking weird, you know!”

“Yo! Cool it, it’s all gonna be fine. Let’s just keep going,” Will said, and the three of them pressed on in relative silence. They seemed to walk…for a very long time. There were odd mirrors at strange angles, the sounds of distant machinery and laughter behind walls, odd puddles of goo lining the side of the tunnel in places, slides down and stairs back up, and more than once, Daniel was certain he’d felt something tap him on the shoulder. Everything behind them just kept getting swallowed up into a black void, the lights turning off behind them, making it clear that the only way out for the group was forward. The tunnel began to shrink, until the three of them were nealry crawling along in the dark, until they came to a small door. They opened it and pushed their way through into a large, brightly lit and circular room filled with music. Before they could get their bearings, the floor began to spin, sending all three of them tumbling to the ground and rolling about. The floor spun faster and faster, the music speeding up in time and then stopped just as suddenly as it had started, the lights flickering and the music winding down, leaving the three young men rolling with their momentum, before struggling to stand up, dizzy.

The small doorway had disappeared, and instead there were three large passageways equally spaced around the room. All of the rooms had lighted signs overhead, and on the floor, a fourth sign flickered to life with a message for them:

“Choose your path.”

“Is that…one path for each of us?” Will asked.

“I don’t see why we can’t all go in the same one together. I just think that once we choose, we can’t back out,” Jake said. He stepped up to a doorway and looked down–sure enough, each one had a slide running down into the dark, which was much too steep to climb back up. “So…where do we want to go?”

The three doorways were labeled as “The Mirrors of Delight – Get lost in your secret desires!”, “The Freakish Factory – Find out what you’re made of!”, and “The Haunted Depths – Brave the ghosts and demons of the dark!”. Jake suggested one doorway, while Daniel insisted on another, and the two began to argue and fight about whose idea was right. Will stayed out of it for a bit, but eventually sided with Jake. In a huff, Daniel stormed off and headed down the slide of his choice alone, while Jake and Will sighed, shrugged, and went down their own selection together.


Alright, so how this poll will work, is that the top two answers will be incorporated into the story. The most popular choice will be the path chosen by Jake and Will, while the second most popular will be the one that Daniel ventures into alone.

So, which doorways should we experience with the three young men?

Here is the twitter poll!

Here is the Patron only poll!

Polls close in 48 hours like usual!

The Carnival (Part 3)

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gatorboy!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

The Twitter Poll!

The Patron Poll!

This poll is only live for a day!

The Carnival (Part 1) [Interactive]

Thanks to everyone who voted in my Patreon poll to help structure this interactive story! The top two vote getters were a hypnosis show and a fun house, and the third, chosen by a commissioner, was the tunnel of love. The first half of the story is going to follow a group of frat brothers around the carnival and these attractions, and then the second half is going to check in on the the next morning, to see how the carnival affected them all after the fact. The second part might also be less interactive, depending on the choices made while the guys move thorough the carnival, but we’ll see how things shape up!


“This place is bigger than I’d expected.”

“No kidding.”

The frat brothers wandered in through the entry gate of the carnival that had set up on the outskirts of the small college town for the weekend. They had expected a little ramshackle affair, but the set up was actually impressive–with a full blown rollercoaster, a long midway full of food and games, several tents set up for shows of several varieties, and it seemed to them that the entire town was there to enjoy it.

“So…what should we do first?”

As a group, they wandered down the midway towards the tents, just taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the attractions, but it wasn’t long before their attentions was grabbed by a loud and obnoxious barker standing in front of a large tent.

“Come one, come all, come witness the marvelous skills of our carnival’s hypnotist, Dr. Watch! No one can resist his spell. Come witness the astounding changes he can bring about in his subjects–Dr. Watch can bend even the strongest of wills with his hands like putty–you there!” he said, pointing at the boys passing by, “Why don’t you see for yourselves?”

“Hypnotism?” one of the brothers, Jared, said, “That shit isn’t real.”

The barker laughed at him. “How do you know? Do you think you have a strong enough mind to resist the wiles of the good doctor?”

Now that he’d been challenged, Jared didn’t have much of a choice, especially with the rest of the house now goading him on. They all decided to file into the tent together to watch the show, and after a few minutes, the lights dimmed, and a older fellow, dressed in a rather anachronistic suit, complete with a monocle and and a glinting, golden chain hanging from his vest, welcomed his audience, and introduced himself as Dr. Watch.

“Now,” he said, “I have already gone to the trouble of choosing tonight’s victims–*ahem* participants,” he said, to chuckles from the audience, and groans from Jared and a few others. “As a matter of fact, they all know that they have been chosen–even if they aren’t quite aware of it yet.” He tugged the watch from his pocket, and spun it on the chain, sending flickers of ligt out into the audience. “Why don’t you all come on up to the stage please?”

Jared, without knowing why, felt himself stand up suddenly, and start pushing his way to the aisle–as did two other brothers from the frat, all of them looking around confused. Jared did his best to stop his feet from moving, but all he could do was slow them to a silly looking shuffle, as the rest of the audience laughed at his attempt at resistance. It couldn’t be possible–he’d never seen the doctor before in his life–how could he be hypnotized? A minute later, the three frat brothers–Jared, Alan, and Roger were standing up on stage with three other men from the audience.

Dr. Watch thanked them all for volunteering, and everyone laughed. Jared tried to object and complain that all of this wasn’t fair, that he’d been tricked somehow, but he couldn’t say anything at all–and both Alan and Roger looked as confused and uncomfortable as he was. Dr. Watch said it was time to get down to business. One by one, he brought the six men forward, and used a different method to put them under–some with his watch, others with his voice–and Jared, who protested mightly, he put under with a single press of his forefinger to Jared’s forehead, leaving him swaying and drooling slightly before the howls of the crowd before him.

“Now, why don’t we have a bit of fun with our victims up here? Something to show them just how powerful hypnosis can be. Of course, hypnosis can only work if the subject is cooperative–but we don’t have to worry about that, right? After all, obeying my voice feels so good–and all of you want to feel good, don’t you?”

The six men nodded in agreement.

“Good. And now, onto the show!”


So, what sort of shenanigans does Dr. Watch have in mind for his six contestants?

  1. He makes them all act like animals.
  2. He makes the frat brothers behave like the townfolk on stage.
  3. The show is X-Rated, and Dr. Watch starts directing a sex scene.

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Digital Manipulation (Part 5) [Interactive]

Yeah, Trax liked the idea of giving Perrion some muscle a lot. Now that Perrion had been taken down a few pegs, and he wouldn’t be working an office job again in his…virtual life, it was time for him to update his physical appearance a bit. Thankfully, he wasn’t going to be limited by his current body, because Perrion wasn’t much to look at, honestly. Short, rail thin–took care of himself, and was always so focused on his presentation, looking down on anyone who ever looked a little messy–like Trax always had. In fact, he thought part of the reason Perrion had been with him was because Trax made him look better by comparison (and humble, for being willing to date someone so obviously his lesser). Well, Trax would make Perrion exactly the kind of man he hated–big, muscular, stupid, ugly–nothing more than a dumb brute laborer. He found the scenario and loaded it up, triggering it to start up when Perrion’s mind woke from processing the last scenario and encoding it into his memory. It would take about as long as a night’s sleep, so in the morning, Trax would be up, and excited to watch what happens next.


Perrion awoke with a start, unsure of where he was, or what was happening to him. He…could remember something, something about work, and a bar, and…and he didn’t know what else. It was in his head, he could feel it in there, but there was something blocking him from accessing it, like his mind kept telling him it wasn’t important. But that also meant there wasn’t much…there. He needed to get up and…go to work, tight? Or do something? But his mind was just blank, laying there, until someone rolled over in bed next to him. “Well, how about we get started?”

Perrion gave a shout and nearly fell out of the bed. Next to him…he was a stranger, and yet also so…familiar. “Who…who are you?” he stammered.

“Me? I’m Perry–you know me,” the man said, and got out of the bed. He was larger than Perrion, and a bit taller, thickly muscled with a thick coat of hair–but not much cock at all, he noticed. His hair was short, and he had a short beard…but then Perrion realized why he looked so familiar–it was because…because they were nearly twins. It was like he was looking at an alternate version of himself, from some other world, but as soon as he realized that, the thought was gone, locked away behind the same barrier as everything else, and he was just looking at Perry–his…boyfriend. His…alpha. “Now get up–we need to get going with the day.”

Perrion did as he was told–in fact, he did everything Perry told him to do. They had a hearty breakfast, more than Perrion ever would have eaten normally, and then they went to the gym. Perry forced him through a grueling workout, one he barely managed to keep up with, but Perry demanded it, and so he did it, he did everything. It seemed like it lasted for hours, and then they went and home again, and they ate another massive meal, before lazing away the rest of the afternoon on the couch, watching TV, with Perrion spending a lot of time and energy keeping Perry happy–bringing him more snacks, toying with his small dick, tasting and smelling him–then they went to bed, and the next morning they woke up, and they did the same thing all over again–huge meals, a massive workout even harder than the last, and another afternoon and evening spent in front of the TV.

He lost track of the days, and he lost track of himself. Everything blurred together, and the only thing that seemed to hold focus was Perry. Perrion noticed that he was…changing, somehow, in the mirrors of the gym. He would look at himself, and see Perry where he should be for a moment, before separating them apart again in his mind. Perry became…clingy. On the couch, he would always have his arm around Perrion, pulling him in, drawing him closer in bed, waking up in a tight bear hug, like Perry was trying to absorb him. Or perhaps, it was the other way around.

He could almost hear Perry’s words in his mind, even before he spoke them. Perrion knew what he wanted, what he needed to do, even before Perry had to say it. The workouts became easier, and he began to enjoy them. He ate more and more, feeling his frame filling out to match his boyfriend, and the TV which had seemed so idiotic to him before was now…engrossing. He would fiddle with Perry’s small cock, and feel his own respond in kind, both of them orgasming in tandem. He didn’t know when he realized that Perrion had disappeared entirely, but at some point, he did. He was just Perry now, a muscle bound, unwashed pig of a man, satisfied with his own base gratification, and unable to remember a time when he’d been anyone else. Just like Trax had wanted.

But Trax wanted more. That was just the introductory persona, after all–Perry was going to have a new boyfriend in his bed soon enough, once these new habits were sufficiently ingrained after another few repetitions. He’d have a whole new set of habits ready to program into him then, he just needed to decide on what.


So, what sort of spin is Trax going to put on Perry’s now muscular lifestyle?

  1. Steroids, silicone and body mods–make him an exhibitonist freak
  2. Cum, sweat and piss–make him a cumdump urinal
  3. Cigars, booze and masturbation–make him an addicted loser

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