Interactive – Greywall Manor #4

Raccooncub said:

I think the study might be a good idea. Seems like a good idea to sit back for a pipe, a cigar, and a blowjob.

Although I think we’ll hold off on the blowjob. I’m trying to take it a bit slower with the story–they do have all night in the house, right? Still, that doesn’t mean we can’t have something else blow…

***
Upstairs, both David and Ken were caught off guard by the lights in the hallways springing to life, and the groan of hot air rushing through the walls, though Ken was more unnerved by it than David was, who figured it was just Dan or Bob trying to scare them. He had been trying quite a few doors in the hallways, trying to force them open, but many of them seemed to be locked tight, and those rooms he could open were pretty much bare, aside from a few random pieces of furniture covered by sheets.

“Well damn,” Ken said behind him, opening a door with ease, “Hey David, take a look at this room. Freaky…”

David was a bit annoyed–he’d tried that door seconds earlier, and it had been locked tight–did Ken just have the magic touch or something? Still, he followed the linebacker into what appeared to be a very large and elaborately decorated study–well, morbidly decorated he supposed, with any number of slightly rotted animal heads hanging on the walls. In fact, the whole room stank of…well, just stank. David really didn’t want to go in there–it didn’t feel like he…belonged in there, but Ken didn’t seem to have the same feelings. He was actively exploring, poking around the massive desk, when he laughed, “Ha, fuck yes!–hmm…Master’s Blend eh? Haven’t heard of the brand…still, says it’s Cuban–nice.”

David looked over and saw that Ken was rolling a cigar in his fingers, and David rolled his eyes. Coach was always getting on Ken’s back about his smoking habit, but the linebacker showed no interest in quitting. In fact, he’d told David and a few other friends that smoking actually got him horny. “Dude, do you have any idea how old those must be? Seriously–let’s get out of here, this place is giving me the creeps…” David said, but saw that Ken had already pulled out his lighter and had the cigar smoldering between his lips.

“Creepy? I don’t think so–it feels…comfortable, actually. Damn…this is…I think this is the best thing I’ve ever…ever smoked,” Ken said, and he felt a strange, sudden urge rise up when he looked at David, an urge to dominate, to control, to fuck–and then as fast as it came, it was gone again, and he shook his head, forgetting it almost immediately, aside from the sudden hard on in his pants. And both of them turned to the doorway when they heard a voice:

“David! Ken! Where the hell are you two? There’s some freaky shit going on here!”

It was Bob, yelling about something downstairs, and David sighed, “Come on, let’s go see what has his panties in a twist,” he said, but pulled up short when Ken shot back.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, giving me orders, boy?”

The voice was brash and commanding, and…terrifying, sending a real chill down David’s back, and he whirled around, staring at Ken, still smoking the cigar. “What did you say?”

“Huh? Did I say something?…I don’t…I think we should go see what Bob’s problem is. Come on, boy,” Ken said, brushing past David and heading down the hall, David catching a whiff of the acrid cigar smoke, wondering how his friend could handle something that strong…strong, and manly…and…with a shudder, David felt his cock suddenly unload a massive wad of cum into the front of his jeans.

“Oh…fuck…” he groaned, gripping the doorway for support as the orgasm ripped through him. “I’ll…I’ll catch up in a second…sir.”

“Fucking now, boy!” Ken shouted back, and David felt his feet immediately follow, the wet spot growing on the front of his jeans, as he followed Ken back down the stairs.

***

They found Bob in the foyer, growing more and more frantic–and much heavier than when they’d last seen him. The basketball player was no longer thin–in fact, he was looking rather rotund. The gut Bob had sprouted in the kitchen had only kept growing as his meal digested, and he now had a healthy set of moobs, thick thighs, and the start of a double chin, and at his six foot five height–he was huge, though no longer athletic. Heaving for breath and sweaty from head to toe, he stopped when he saw Ken and David, relieved that nothing horrible had happened to them.

“What…what in the hell happened to you, Bob?” David asked.

“There’s…There’s some weird shit going down here–there’s this…ghost chef, and Dan’s gone, and–”

“Hey, calm down,” Ken said, and immediately, Bob’s heart rate eased up, relief flooding through him, “Look, this isn’t a big problem, alright? Here, let’s all split up and look for Dan. You two split up and look around here on the ground floor. I’ll check the upper floors, in case he went up there…yeah, I need…I need to go up there…somewhere…” he said, taking a deep draw off the cigar, and looking around, he saw the others had already left, automatically obeying his orders, and he trudged back up the stairs–not sure where he was going, but…well, he knew he’d find whatever he needed up there…somewhere.

Who should we follow (for the moment):

1) The now fatter Bob, trying not to think about the hunger gnawing at his gut?
2) David, still rattled by his spontaneous orgasm?
3) Ken, who perhaps stumbles into the master’s suite upstairs?

Don’t be afraid of details–they tend to draw my eye more than anything else. Also–don’t count Dan out either–who knows when or how the new furnace master might resurface?

Interactive – Greywall Manor #3

Furryhairybears said:

Start with Dan and Bob. Maybe fatten them up in the kitchen?

and then he said:

I still would like to see Dan and Bob become more fat and slobish in the kitchen.

and then…:

I think he should look for him in the kitchen!

Alright, your persistence is rewarded–just don’t expect it to win me over all the time!

Bob did his best to do an organized room by room search for Dan, but quickly became lost. He hadn’t imagined that the mansion was this big, but for some reason all the rooms felt like they kept shifting around him. Doors opened up onto brick walls, there were windows between rooms, staircases that went up and simply ended at the ceiling, and there was no sign of Dan everywhere, and from the rattling sounds of machinery in the walls of the house, it almost sounded like the place was coming alive.

His hunt eventually led him past the dining room, though a different one than he’d been in before, and he ducked into a side door, landing him square in a massive kitchen…and something smelled…delicious–except that couldn’t be–who in the hell would be cooking in an abandoned mansion? Yet cooking someone was–there was a big pot of…something cooling on the stove, and it definitely smelled amazing, even if it didn’t look all that appetizing. Out of curiosity, he stuck his finger in the glop and gave it a taste–and his tongue lit up with pleasure, his knees quivering a bit in delight. He’d never tasted anything so amazing in all of his life, and before he could stop, he had the mixing spoon in his hand and he was feasting right from the pot.

There probably wasn’t anything he could have done to stop himself, and he kept eating, polishing off half the pot before a strange, ethereal voice said behind him, “What in the world are you doing in my kitchen, boy?”

Stunned, Bob dropped the spoon and spun around, finding himself face to face with a chef–a semi-trnsparent ghost chef, to be precise, and he did not look happy, his clear cheeks still managing to convey a deep red of displeasure. Bob’s mouth gaped open in terror, and the chef drifted closer, his anger softening a bit, “Still, I gotta say boy, you sure can eat–why don’t you have a seat at that table and we’ll really pack some meat on those bones of yours? I love that gut you’ve got there–how about we make it even bigger?”

He could feel the chilly hands of the ghost cupping the taut gut which had sprouted from Bob’s once slender midsection, and the chill was sending him shivers right to his cock. He…he wanted to stay, he wanted to eat, but–but no, he had to get out of here! Bracing himself, he pushed his way through the ghost and made a beeline for the door, the chef chasing after him, but for whatever reason, as soon as he was through the door and in the dining room, the cravings died back–though his new gut didn’t show any signs of diminishing, and the ghost didn’t follow him–apparently it couldn’t leave the kitchen.

“This is fucked up,” Bob said, idly rubbing his belly, but he stopped himself before he got too excited by it, or before he could think too hard about what had just happened, and kept going “David? Ken? Dan? We’ve gotta get out of here you guys!” He shouted, trying his best to ignore the hunger slowly gnawing away at his resolve.

Now that Dan and Bob have had their first run-ins with the house, what are David and Ken finding upstairs?
1) Some bedrooms and closets?
2) A study for relaxation and pleasure?
3) Exploring in the attic, where who knows what sort of things might be lurking?

I finally figured out the trigger for the question setting, so there’s no extra suggestion box. So, guys, what’ll it be?

Interactive – Greywall Manor #2

From Anonymous:

I think you should persue Dan and Bob, going into the basement. Lots of engineering stuff like coal fired boilers, and Carbide gas generators in old mansions: I visualize the Winchester Mansion in San Jose….

Bob sets off into the house, Dan following a bit behind, trying to be cautious. It isn’t that he’s scared, exactly–ok, well, he’s totally scared, he won’t try to lie to himself. While he tells himself that he doesn’t believe in any of the occult rumors around the place, something still just…isn’t right. He’s busy thinking when he realizes he’s lost sight of Bob, and he hurries ahead, sees a door swinging open, and ducks into it without really thinking, and tumbles down a flight of steps into the pitch black basement, the door slamming shut behind him.

He lay groaning on the stone floor for a minute or two, making sure nothing was broken, before he hefted himself up and looked around, or at least, tried to look around. The room was pitch black, and in the fall, he’d lost track of where he was, so he stumbled off in the direction of what he thought was the stairs, but after a few feet, he realized he was wrong, and he stopped, trying to orient himself. If only he had a light…

A flicker. He’d seen it, somewhere in the dark–there it was again. He stumbled towards the pinprick of deep red light, praying he wouldn’t trip and hurt himself, and after a few yards he saw that the light was coming from the inside of a large, complicated furnace. How in the hell could there even be a flame, after all these years? He didn’t know, but it was a light–but not nearly enough to see anything helpful–he’d have to feed it…yeah, feed it, he needed to feed the flame, but with what? Sensing his need, the flame grew brighter, almost as though it were flexing a muscle, and he saw that, piled all around the walls of the room was coal–tons of it–just what he needed to feed the light, and make it bright again. He grabbed a nearby shovel that the light had illuminated and started heaping the coal into the furnace, the light churning through the fuel almost as fast as Dan could shovel it in, like a man possessed, but he had limits. His slender build wasn’t made to keep up with manual labor, and he grew tired after only a few minutes, the light ebbing bit by bit.

“No!” Dan said, “No, don’t go out, don’t die, I’m sorry–I’m just tired, so tired, please, don’t go out, I need you…”

The light seemed to pause for a moment, and there was a sudden explosion of light which threw Dan back against the heaps of coal, and the light dimmed back even more than when he’d started shoveling.

“No! No, don’t go!” Dan said, his voice gruff and raspy, and he hauled up the shovel, and felt an enormous amount of energy pumping through him, and he shoveled even faster than before, quickly nurturing the flame back up to a healthy, raging inferno as bright as the sun, and only then did he wipe his coal dusted brow, and bother looking down at himself. He was huge–probably a foot taller than when he’d fallen down the stairs, and no longer slim. The explosion had changed him, packing him full of muscle that strained against the filthy set of coveralls his clothes had become. He now looked like he was in his mid-thirties, and the light of the furnace flickered madly in his eyes. The light was so beautiful–he couldn’t believe that someone had almost allowed it to go out. Certainly he couldn’t leave–no, he would stay here, and serve the flame–feed it, and it would care for him, and he resumed his shovelling, hearing the hungry furnace slowly bring the house’s mechanical guts back to creaking life.

***

In the dining room, Bob raised his hand to block the sudden, piercing light of the chandeliers which burst forth. “Dang, who turned on the lights?” he joked, but realized that his words had fallen on no one’s ears–Dan was gone. “Dan?” he asked, “Dan? Now where did he run off to? He didn’t leave did he…” Bob walked back through the way he’d come to the first room, but saw that the window they’d climbed through was completely repaired. Unnerved, he headed back into the house to find the other pledges–he had a sneaking suspicion that they all needed to get out of here, and fast.

Where does Bob go to look for Dan, and what does newly empowered house have in store for him?

1) The kitchen–gosh he’s hungry.
2) The garden–maybe there’s a way out?
3) The library–he thought he might have seen someone’s shadow in there…

Or whatever other ideas you have–lay them on me.

Interactive – Greywall Manor #1

“Come on, I found a way in,” David said to his three fellow pledges–Dan, Bob, and Ken–and together, the four of them made their way around to the back of the house, where one of the windows was broken. Dan used a rock to clear out the rest of the broken glass, and the four climbed their way in one after the other, falling into a large room of the manor.

This was their task–spend a night in Greywall Manor–the infamously haunted house which the town was known for. It was a well known tourist attraction, but no one was allowed inside, after it was revealed that a number of tours had simply gone missing. No one really thought it was haunted–the reports were generally regarded as publicity stunts, but this year, the frat had decided to put it’s pledges to the test. They were to get in, and take pictures of themselves every hour in different parts of the house to prove they stayed the whole time.

The rumors as to what was haunting the house were numerous. The old owners were rumored to be a family of powerful wizards and warlocks, but that was only one aspect of the legend. There were also rumored to be ghosts roaming the halls, and even strange monsters had been sighted on occasion in the manor’s windows. Still, they were all just rumors, but that didn’t mean the four pledges weren’t scared.

Well, at least one of them wasn’t scared. David, an up and coming star of the football program knew that all the rumors were bullshit. Still, if he needed to spend a night in a “haunted” house to make the damn frat happy, he would do it. When he saw Dan shaking a bit, he snickered–of course the thin fag from the swim team would be scared. Actually, Dan wasn’t gay–but he was certainly the metrosexual response to David’s more brutish figure. Bob was tall and quite thin, a member of the basketball team, and Ken was the biggest of the group, a linebacker on the football team with David.

“Alright, so I guess we should take a picture, eh?” he said, pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of the other three, and uploading it to facebook. “One down, seven more to go. So, we have an hour–how about we split up, explore a bit, and meet up back here in a little for another picture?

“Sounds good to me,” Ken said.

“Well, we probably shouldn’t go alone,” Dan said, “You know, for safety’s sake.”

David rolled his eyes, “Well fine–I’ll go with Ken here, since he’s not a pussy, and you two fags can go off on your merry way.”

David grabbed Ken by the arm and hauled him away, the two of them banging up the stairs to explore the upper floors, leaving Bob and Dan alone. “Come on, let’s look around a bit,” Bob said, and Dan, not wanting to seem like a total chicken, followed after him, to take a look around the ground floor.

Who should we follow for the moment, and where should they explore?

1) David and Ken exploring the upper floors (bedrooms, studies and bathrooms)
2) Dan and Bob on the ground floor (kitchen, library, and the basement)

Give your opinion in an “ask,” find me on IM, or use one of the reply boxes I’ll post today or tomorrow on the blog.

Andy at the Roadhouse Part 1 (Interactive Story)

Sorry, no extra pics on this one–so you’re just going to have to have to use your imaginations, lazy bums! However, in exchange, how about you all help me finish it. I have too many ideas, so read it, pick the ending you want to see, and send me a message or reply telling me your vote.

*****

Andy saw the flicker of neon up ahead, and sped up a little, eager to get off the road for the night. A cross country trip on the backroads of America had sounded like a good idea when he was plotting the course, but after getting lost countless times, running out of gas twice, and quite a few run-ins with some of the unsavory characters of the backcountry, he was beginning to think this might have been a misjudgement. The sign belonged to a roadhouse, apparently a small restaurant and bar with a tiny motel tucked in behind it–and wouldn’t you know, it actually looked pretty clean compared to some of the places he’d bunked up in recently, even if that wasn’t saying much. Still, he was starved, hadn’t slept in a bed in over a day, and his grumbling stomach was willing to tolerate pretty much anything at this point.

He pulled into the gravel parking lot, sliding his station wagon in between two hulking, rusted pickup trucks and with a nervous look around, he walked up onto the porch and into the restaurant. The place was busy enough that only a few people near the door noticed him come in–and the glares from those who did were something he’d started getting used to, although these, almost seemed more interested and curious about him than angry or suspicious, which was a relief. Looking around, the place looked like it had missed a few decades of renovations, the floor covered in sawdust with a creaking and lopsided jukebox pumping out country classics of the 60’s and 70’s. The clientele, he saw, was entirely men, which while not all that odd, was still a bit surprising–otherwise, it looked like the general crew of roughnecks, truckers and bikers places like this tended to collect. However, the cloud of smoke in the room was unusually thick–nearly everyone had a cigarette, cigar or pipe in their mouth. Andy used to smoke, but had quit a few years ago at the urging of a now ex-girlfriend. The smell of it was a sudden reminder of how good smoking had felt, but he pushed that thought away and worked his way deeper into the room.

Working his best mosey, he made his way through the crowd and up to the bar, catching the attention of the bartender–a burly man with a beard several feet long wearing jeans and a leather vest, showing off his tattooed arms and chest. Still, the man was nice enough, and Andy quickly learned that Ed was the owner, bartender, cook and innkeeper of the entire establishment. He seemed very pleased to have someone from out of town, which surprised Andy a bit–he was more used to being shunned than welcomed–and Ed gave him a beer on the house while he waited for his food from the kitchen. Ed winked as he handed the young man the bottle, telling him his homebrew was famous around the parts, and Andy, doubting the man’s statement, took it to be kind. Still, what was the harm in a drink? It wasn’t like he was going to be driving any more tonight. He took a sip of the beer and found it to be strong and quite bitter, but drinkable, and took a seat along the wall where he hoped he wouldn’t be stared at too much, and now that he’d been noticed, they were all staring when they thought he wasn’t looking at them. A few of the gazes started making him feel like they were inspecting and sizing him up–it was unnerving, and he downed the beer quickly in defense.

Moments after he finished his first brew, a second one came unbidden, brought by a slender boy who couldn’t have been close to twenty one from behind the bar–and who had strange idea of fashion. His shoulder length, wavy hair was dyed a deep green, which actually looked surprisingly good on him, though Andy was certain he himself could never have pulled the look off. He was also wearing a green tank top and some green gym shorts with green sneakers, to keep the color theme going. He set down the beer with a coy grin, looked Andy over while he puffed on his cigarette, but before Andy could even thank him, he bounded off laughing, ecstatic for some reason.

Looking about the bar, Andy saw that there were a few other colorful characters scattered around the room. The first one he spotted was a short but well built man with a flattop dyed pitch black, with a perfectly trimmed short boxed beard and clad in a leather harness, shorts and boots with a thick collar cinched tight around his neck. Near him was a massively obese man wearing nothing other than some peachy latex shorts stretched around his massive thighs, with a shaved head and a strawberry blonde goatee around his mouth. He also saw a filthy looking man with a magenta colored mohawk, wearing an identically colored tank top showing off his raunchy, amazingly hairy pits for everyone to see. Like everyone else, they were all smoking cigars and cigarettes, and looking at all these freaks, he was starting to feel creeped out, but the beer was making him feel pretty mellow, and he was still really hungry. If anything, the brews were increasing his hunger–and his thoughts of smoking. He hadn’t smoked in so long, and the thick second hand smoke was intoxicating all on its own. When the same man delivered a third beer, Andy worked up the screwed up his nerve and asked, “Hey, do you…could I bum a cigarette off you? I–I quit years ago, but all this smoke…” he trailed off, feeling silly suddenly.

“Well sure, I got a smoke, but it’ll cost ya,” the green boy said with a smirk, pulling a cigarette and lighter the pocket of his shorts.

“I got cash, how much do you want?”

“Oh I don’t want cash,” he said, coming closer and invading Andy’s space a bit, “I want a kiss, before these beers of Ed’s hit you too hard. How about it? As a bit of a farewell?”

Andy started to protest, but the boy lit the cigarette, took an inhale, and before Andy could duck away, locked lips with him and exhaled the smoke deep into Andy’s lungs. What sort of place had he wandered into? As these thoughts crossed his mind, Andy realized he had started kissing the boy back, and was actually enjoying it–and the room around them had grown quiet.

“Danny Boy! Stop harassing him, god damn it!” Andy heard Ed shout, and the green boy broke off the kiss and scurried off, but not before sticking the lit cigarette between Andy’s lips.

“Sorry about that,” Ed said, coming over with a plate laden with food, “He a bit anxious tonight. Here’s your dinner buddy, on the house after that incident.”

“Look, thanks, but I think I’d better go,” Andy said and started to get up, but Ed pushed him back down onto the stool.

“Nope, yer gonna eat, and stay, and drink, and have a good time,” Ed said, the sudden force behind his words stunning Andy a bit, and he tentatively picked up the greasy burger and started chowing down. “That’s a good man, enjoy!” Ed said, and returned back behind the bar. He set the cigarette down on an ashtray, taking the occasional puff between bites, and when he finished, Ed swooped out and took the plate away, leaving Andy with a full belly, a new beer, and his cigarette, which appeared suspiciously unsmoked. Andy was starting to feel a bit bloated, and he undid his belt before starting on his fourth…or was it fifth, brew. He certainly had quite the buzz going, and it felt like as soon as he finished one beer another was in his hand before he could even think about it, and it was getting hard to focus on the room around him.

However, while Andy was losing focus, the rest of the room grew quieter and quieter as their attention shifted over to Andy. They had already noticed small changes–Andy’s burgeoning gut, the sideburns creeping down and growing thicker, the thick layer of hair being revealed as Andy’s tight, white tank was pushed up bit by bit. The cigarette in Andy’s hand grew and darkened with every inhale, soon shifting into a short, thick cigar which he seemed perfectly at ease with, not even noticing the change. However, what the room was waiting for with baited breath was the color–what would the color be?

All the full members of the roadhouse had already cast their votes soon after Andy had arrived, and they knew Ed was busy in the back tallying up the votes. He would emerge soon, and then they would know what their newest whore’s specialty would be. Some were sad to see Danny Boy go–especially the older men who were irresistible to him, but they all had to retire eventually. Besides, there would be new adventures, but what was this man’s color to be?

*****

I don’t know, how about you tell me? It’s an interactive story, celebrating 50 followers! Go ahead and send me a reply or message with the color you want to see. Here’s your three options: Red, Grey, or Yellow.

If you don’t know what these colors might mean for Andy, then maybe go here: http://user.xmission.com/~trevin/hanky.html

Give me your answer by Thursday afternoon to make sure you get counted, and thanks to you all for the follows, likes and reblogs, they’re much appreciated!