Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Finale)

Sorry for the missed posts over the last couple of days–work has been crazy busy with the holiday coming up. Here’s the last three chunks of Police Dogs to make up for it!

Demon dove for the paws, licking at them with his tongue, and deep inside him, something…was screaming and howling with rage, and with fear. Demon…knew who it was, it was the man he’d been, but the anger was already turning to terror, as Chance realized he was being trapped within his own mind, and that the small bits of him that still remained outside of Master Geoff’s control were shrinking smaller and smaller, as he shrunk, and as more and more of his body twisted and warped into the pup Geoff’s collar was turning him into. His tongue…it was so long, and the smells and tastes of Master’s paw were so intense, unlike anything he had ever experienced before in his life. HIs tail was wagging faster now, pounding along with his heart in excitement, and eagerness. He could hear his nails scratching on the floor under him, now more like claws than nails really, his fingers shortening and thickening, losing some of their dexterity as he lost his humanity. But worse, was how excited he was, how excited he couldn’t help being, and he flung himself into worshiping Master’s paws, at least, until Master gave him a kick in the snout, and sent him onto his back, four paws in the air in surprise. Before he could roll over, Master shoved his paw down onto Demon’s head, covering all of his face with the rough pad on the bottom, the scent even more intense, and the sensation of powerlessness…he was nothing. He was nothing, next to his master, he was worthless. He was just a stupid, naughty pup, tiny and insignificant, unable to do anything, unable to disobey, unable to think a single thought that Master hadn’t put into Demon’s tiny head himself. Chance felt his mental confines shrink further, and he screamed again, but to Demon, they seemed…so much further away now. That was good–it had been hard to focus on what was important–cleaning Master’s dirty paws.

Geoff bent down, watching the little pup squirm under his weight, and while he hadn’t thought about shrinking him further than this, a couple of feet tall…he couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like. This was the smallest he’d ever made a pup, really, but there was no reason the collar couldn’t shrink someone smaller…and in fact, there was something he had always wanted to try, and this might be the best opportunity to test it out. He grabbed hold of the collar, and kept pulling, steadily shrinking Demon further still, taking inches off his now measly height, until he was just around a foot and a half tall, not too much larger than the badger’s paw, in all honesty. He felt so fragile, under him, and Geoff supposed he could crush the life out of him, if he so wanted, but he had other pleasures in mind for this one. He pulled his paw away, pleased with the empty look in the pup’s eyes. He was in the final stages of his changes now–his old self was locked away, deep in his mind, where it would starve, slowly. The process took a while, but now, there was no real way of saving him–as far as Geoff was concerned, Chance was gone–all that remained, was Demon, his warped, perverted little pet.

Geoff looked around, and saw that Dingo had wandered off in the midst of this–a peek around the corner, and he was the massive lug right where he expected him to be, looming over the table, and the unfinished box of doughnuts, stuffing them in his maw as quickly as he could. The bigger they got, after all, the hungrier they became, and Dingo was one of the largest he had made–so tall, Dingo had probably knocked his head on the doorframe getting out of the hall. “Dingo!” he said, “Pick up Demon here, and let’s go upstairs–I think I have the perfect punishment in mind for the naughty pup.”

Dingo looked up, knowing he had been caught red handed, or powder sugar handed, perhaps, but his master didn’t seem mad at him for it. Still, he rushed to obey him, while the badger started pulling off his uniform and heading for the stairs, Dingo grabbed Demon by the tail and picked him up. He was…so light, and the pup squirmed in the air, obviously unhappy at being manhandled like this, and Dingo just laughed, and swung him about gently in the air.

“Dingo! Quit playing with your toy, and get up here!”

“Sorry sir!” Dingo said, and hurried for the stairs, clipping his forehead on a doorway as he went, dropping Demon as he did. The pup tried to scurry away, but Dingo grabbed him by the tail again before he could get away, and carrying him upstairs after the badger, and into the bedroom, where Geoff was standing next to the bed. “Get out of that uniform, Dingo–I think it’s time you got a reward.”

Dingo grinned, and set Demon down on the floor. Before he could get his bearings, he found himself pinned under the badger’s paw once again, and all thoughts of escape slipped away from him again, and he focused on sniffing and licking his master’s paws while the larger Dingo struggled to extract himself from the too tight uniform he was now wearing. He managed, eventually, but not without losing a few buttons, and then Geoff directed him to lay down on the bed. He was so large, that even with his head leaning up against the headboard, his paws hung off the end, and his cock, while small compared to his frame, was still a sizable seven inches.

“Alright, Demon–are you ready? You’re going to get one last fuck on your husband’s cock–and we’re going to shrink you until you’re too small to even stay on it. Hear that? You’re going to be so small, you won’t even be useful for sex–all you’ll be able to do is clean our paws, lick out our cracks, and watch me fuck your husband’s ass into submission every night. That’s what happens to naughty pups who don’t do what they’re told–I turn them into my toys.”

Demon was squirming under Geoff’s paw, but whether he was even paying attention to him, the badger didn’t know. That was the problem with these collars, especially when you make someone small–the room left for their brains gets a bit…cramped. He bent down and picked him up, carrying him under the arms and onto the bed, before handing him to Dingo. “Here you go boy–why don’t you give Demon a good last fuck? I want it to be a fuck he’ll remember, so don’t hold back, got it?”

Dingo nodded, took Demon from Geoff’s paws, and held him there, looking at him squirm, trying to free himself, lost somewhere between fear, obedience, and a disappearing past and identity he could no longer really recall. It was…easier, seeing him like this, Dingo thought. It had been harder before, when he was human, when Angus had been so loud, trying to make him stop, trying to get control back, but now that he was looking at this little pup–a pint sized german shepherd, panting, his own cock hard as he squirmed in the air, not quite sure what was about to happen to him, he just felt…sorry for him, a bit, and he didn’t want to hurt him. “Aren’t I…too big?”

“Don’t worry about that, Dingo–he’ll be flexible. Besides, you shouldn’t care about something like that–you like being a brute, don’t you? You kind of like the idea of hurting that pup a bit. After all, hasn’t he been so naughty today?”

Dingo nodded, and he realized that some of that caring, that worry, wasn’t really his–it had leeched in while he wasn’t paying attention, but Master was right. He was a mean, rough, feral mutt, to everyone other than his master, and thinking about fucking this little pup on his big cock…he started leaking just thinking about it, leaking enough that he could drop the pup on the head of his cock, and it was slick enough to work its way inside, the pup barking and howling in surprise and a bit of pain as the massive cock forced its way inside him.

It was as large as his own arm, easily, and the pup was torn between terror, and a raging horniness that was threatening to wipe away everything else. His head just felt so small and tight all of a sudden, and it couldn’t hold everything in it that had been in it before. Whatever was most present, and most immediate, was being saved–everything else, if he didn’t focus on it, was slipping away, never to be seen again. Dingo shoved him down a little further, forcing the pup’s tailhole to open further, and Geoff bent over and whispered in Demon’s ear, telling how good it felt to be fucked, how much he loved having a massive cock in his hole–he was so naughty, he wanted cock in him all the time, and that’s why he was being punished. He’d been a bad dog, and so, he was going to have to be so small, he’d never be able to get fucked again.

Dingo kept thrusting up, working most of his cock into the pup’s tight hole, and then Geoff took hold of the end of Demon’s collar, and pulled it tighter. His body constricted again, tightening around Dingo’s cock, stretching his hole even more, and he howled, Dingo having to keep a tight hold, to keep his cock from slipping from the pup’s hole. For his part, a desperate Demon was trying hard to keep the cock in his guts–he loved getting fucked, and knowing that this was going to be his last fuck ever…he was going to have to make it last as long as possible, no matter how small he got.

Geoff watched the little german shepherd constrict around the dingo’s cock, and his own cock got even harder. He got up and straddled Dingo’s massive frame, so his own cock was in front of Demon, took hold of his tiny frame, and started fucking him up and down on Dingo’s cock, watching the little pup go slack, just enjoying the sensation of the massive cock rearranging his guts, his face and gut grinding against his master’s cock in the process, absolutely helpless, and yet, more content than he’d ever felt in his life, because there was nothing he could do. He was helpless–they could do whatever they wanted to him, and there was nothing he could do to stop them, they had absolute power, and that meant he had to be their…their slave, or even lower than that, their pet, their toy. He was nothing, and with another tug on the collar, he shrank again, less than a foot tall, his body no longer able to take all of Dingo’s cock–but the massive dog had reached his limit anyway. His cock exploded inside of Demon’s body, and like a bottle rocket, and because Geoff was only holding onto him by the collar–as he flew, it pulled tighter and tighter around his neck, tighter than Geoff had ever intended, shrinking him less than a foot, less than six inches, until he was just three or four, dangling by the end of the collar, choking until Geoff laid the tiny pup on the bed, where he could catch his breath in the pool of cum still leaking out of his hole.

Dingo just kept panting on the bed, oblivious to what had happened, while Geoff loomed over him, surprised that the little pup was still alive. He picked Demon up by the tail and looked at him, Demon staring at the massive badger’s face looming right in front of him. “Hmm…well, that’s a bit smaller than I was expecting.”

Still, there was nothing to be done–but at least he could secure the collar and lock it in place. If it shrank anymore, Demon might just cease to exist. It took some work, manipulating the little tail of the shrunk collar soit slid into the loop, but he managed it, and sealed the length for good–for better or worse, Demon was a pup the size of a mouse…now what in the hell was he going to do with him? Geoff sighed–he’d figure something out, he supposed. He dropped Demon back on the bed, and told Dingo to get up from the bed–that it was time to leave. The two of them got dressed, Dingo struggling with his ill-fitting uniform again, but with Geoff’s help, he got situated enough that he was presentable, and then Geoff dropped the still stunned Demon in the pocket of his shirt, and they left the house, never to return.

No one ever really figured out what happened to the nice couple, Angus and Chance, who had lived there. Some people said there was a kidnapping, others said they had moved, some suggested a long vacation, but no one remembered them for long. The bank eventually foreclosed on the house, and resold it to someone else–but by then, their memory had long since disappeared from reality, for everyone besides Geoff. Geoff remembered everything, and he was having a grand time with his Dingo.

In the past months, nearly a year, Dingo had kept packing on weight at a steady clip. On his tall frame though, even four hundred pounds seemed normal–mostly. Geoff kept feeding him though–he wanted his brutish mutt to be his largest pup yet, telling him, while he fucked his fat ass, that he was going to keep stuffing him until he was too fat to even get out of bed. Dingo liked that, and he gave another shudder, shooting another load of cum into the milker attached to his cock, draining his cum into a small tank by the side of the bed. After a few more minutes, Geoff came deep, and pulled out–the two of them laid on the bed for a while, Geoff resting his head on Dingo’s large gut until he got tired, swung himself out of bed, and unhooked the tank. He had another pet to keep fed after all–and after that massive fucking had twisted up the little pup’s guts, the only thing the tiny pup could eat anymore was cum–specifically Dingo’s. He loved the stuff, and the more he drank, the fatter he got as well–though he always seemed to shrink back down from a sphere after a day or two. Still, watching the little german shepherd gorge himself on his one-time husband’s cum never ceased to thrill Geoff, and watching the little pup fight for it was getting hard again–hard enough for a second go at Dingo’s hole in the meantime, before their night shift started. They were patrolling the highway, and Geoff had started hankering for another police dog to play with in the worst way.

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 8)

“What do you want, pup?”

What…did he want? He knew what he had wanted, before. To…escape, to find a way to get Angus back, but he was so tired, so tired of fighting. It would be so much easier if he just gave in, gave in and was a good boy, a good pup, the…the dirty little pup Master wanted him to be. But is that what he wanted too? He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know if he should even…want things himself. What did Master want? He knew what Master wanted, though, and…and he could feel himself wanting it too, more and more. “I…I wanna sniff your holes, and Dingo’s, and lick your boots and your paws, sir, I…I wanna be your…your dirty pup.”

“Really? Because a little while ago, you didn’t seem to want that at all. I don’t know if I really believe you, pup.”

That…seemed so long ago now, somehow, even though Chance knew it had been less than an hour. It was another lifetime, another person altogether, maybe. “I know I said that, but I…I was wrong, I want to be a good boy, I want to be your dirty pup master.”

“My dirty, little pup, you mean,” Geoff said, took the end of Chance’s collar and tightened it another notch, and Chance felt his stomach twist, he shrank again. He tried to pull away again, but Geoff kept his grip on the collar, and he could feel it tightening again, and almost to another notch, and he froze.

“Please, I don’t want to be smaller, please sir, I’m sorry…”

“No? You don’t want to be a little pup? So small I could pin you to the ground with my paw, feel you squirming between my toes?” Geoff tugged lightly, and another notch slipped, and Chance reduced again, now only about four feet tall, and he could feel the badger tugging the collar tightening, and he whimpered again. “Get on your knees.”

Chance hadn’t realized he was standing, and when he got down, the disparity in size was even more apparent, and he realized, also…very hot, seeing his Master looming over him like this. Geoff put one huge boot on his thigh, and that was enough to make his dog cock slip free of his sheath again, and start to leak.

“Looks like someone is excited by the idea of being this small. Such a naughty little doggy. You know, a naughty pup like you needs a naughty name, don’t you think? How about…Demon? A little devil like you.”

When Geoff said the name, Chance felt it searing itself into his mind, somehow, warping his own image of himself. The human in him slipped even further away, fading, and he could…see himself, a different version of himself. A small, chubby dog, tongue lolling out, only a couple feet tall, waddling after his Master, wondering when he’d get the chance to taste his paws again, or his boots, or his cock, if he was a very good boy. And Demon…Demon could be naughty yes, but he wanted to be good, so good, and he knew he could, he could be so good if he just…just did as Master wanted. The collar tightened again, slipping closed another notch, and he shrank a few more inches, watching his Master rise up over him even further as he shrank down, and…and he let out a whine, his cock springing up and leaking a bit at the sight.

“You do like it, don’t you boy? I want to hear you say it.”

Demon shook his head, trying to deny it, but the badger tightened it again, the sudden vertigo in his gut telling him he was shrinking even further.

“I know you like it, pup,” Geoff said, “but what really matters anyway is that I like it. I like the idea of you being a sniveling little pup, too small to be good for anything really, small enough that I could crush you under me feet–but I think that you do want it, don’t you boy? Doesn’t the idea of being small enough that I can pick you up by the scruff of your fat neck, or by your fuzzy tail, carry you around, do whatever I want to you–doesn’t that just excite the hell out of you?”

Demon heard something thumping behind him, but it wasn’t until Geoff stopped talking that he realized it was the sound of his tail wagging, and thumping against the floor behind him.

“Naughty pups like you might lie to me, but your tails always tell the truth, pup. You want to be small. You deserve to be small, for being so naughty, you deserve to be punished, don’t you?”

He tugged again, slipping the collar down another notch, and this time, Demon couldn’t resist it anymore. “Yes sir, I do…I deserve to be a tiny pup sir, I love it, I…”

“Unlace my boots, Demon,” Geoff said, sneering down at him.

He did so, and pulled the boot off, and the sock. He could smell the badger’s paw from where he was, and he felt drool pouring out of his snout, his cock even harder, if that was possible.

“You want Master’s paw, boy?”

“Yes sir, please let me lick your dirty paws.”

“What’s your name pup? Tell me your name, and I’ll let you taste them.”

He whined again. He knew the right answer of course, but it was also the most dangerous answer. It wasn’t the answer it should be…but it was the answer he wanted, all the same. “Demon. I’m your dirty little pup, Demon, your naughty pup, please sir! Please can I taste them?”

“Alright, go ahead pup, you’ve been good enough.”

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 6)

Geoff eventually pushed Chance’s maw away from his cock, looked down at his happy face, eyes glazed over slightly, icing all over his face from his snacks, and stood up, telling Chance to follow him. They went into the bathroom and Geoff told Chance to stand in front of the mirror and look at himself, and what he saw…it was enough of a shock to break through the pleasant numbness that his mind and settled into over the last hour or so. The collar was having a substantial effect on him already–his face and head had shifted quite a bit, which explained why sucking the badger’s cock had felt so…odd, and why his tongue had been able to reach so many different places, while he was sucking. Fur was filling in, his brunette hair running down onto his neck and upper back, while the hair he had on his chest had lightened to a golden tan, and was coming in thicker.

“I guess someone wants to be a police dog after all,” Geoff said, giving Chance a scritch between his ears, which were somewhere between human, and growing and shifting upward into proper dog ones, “Looks like you’re going to be a pure german shepherd–that make you happy pup? Thinking about chasing down bad guys? Well, not chasing really, because look at that gut you’re packing already–you’ll probably have to be on desk duty, if you keep binging like that.”

The badger was right–he had gained weight. A lot of weight. He had always been a bit chubby, but his gut was now quite a bit larger, and hanging down over his waist, making it impossible to see his cock–the cock, he realized, that was rock hard. It had been rock hard this whole time, in fact, and he reached under to feel it, and was surprised by how…wet it felt. He repositioned himself in the mirror and hefted up his gut to get a better look, and sure enough, it wasn’t a human cock anymore. A sheath had grown up over it, and was covered with the same golden hair as the rest of his front, and a slick red cock was jutting from it, drooling slightly in excitement.

“Looks like you got a bit excited, pup. Hey Dingo! Get your fat ass in here.”

There was a grunt, and then Dingo appeared in the doorway. “Yes sir?”

“Get down and show this pup what a good cocksucker you are–I bet you’d appreciate that, wouldn’t you? Getting a blowjob from your husband? Well, not really your husband, since he’s mine now, but if you’re good, I might let you two visit each other from time to time.”

The anger flashed in Chance’s mind again, pushing away to numbness the collar had been laying over his mind. When Dingo got down and started sucking, it threatened to overwhelm him again, but he pushed back–if he didn’t do something now, he wasn’t going to have the will to do anything about it soon enough.

“What’s wrong, pup? I think Dingo has a pretty good snout on him, but you look like you aren’t even enjoying yourself.”

It took everything in him that he could muster, but he shoved Dingo off of his cock, spun around, and delivered a swift kick right into the badger’s crotch. It caught him completely off guard, and he dropped to the floor, giving Chance a chance to dash out of the bathroom. He made it only a few yards before he heard–and felt–heavy foot falls behind him. Dingo was chasing him, barking his head off at him, slobber flying, and at his shorter stature and much heavier weight, Chance had no hope of outrunning him. Dingo tackled him to the floor in the hall, sending them both crashing to the ground, and the impact knocked the wind from Chance’s lungs.

Pinning him there, Dingo kept barking, calling to his master, while Chance tried to shout back at him, plead with him to remember, to escape with him, to get the damn collars off their neck while they still could, but it was clear that Dingo–if he was even listening–didn’t care one whit what Chance might have to say. After a few seconds, Geoff appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, growling, and Dingo stopped barking and started wagging his tail. “I got ‘em Master! I got ‘em for you!”

“Good boy, Dingo–now stay on him,” Geoff said, and got down beside Chance, who was still trying to worm his way out from under Dingo’s massive bulk, but having no success. “That was a very bad pup. I’ll have you know, that I consider that to be an automatic failure on your exam here–I’m afraid I can’t have a disobedient animal on the force with me–it just isn’t safe–for me, or the citizens of this fair city.”

“Fuck you!” Chance shouted at him, with as much will as he could muster, “I don’t give a fuck, I’ll fucking fight you as best I can, no matter what! Angus, you have to snap out of this, please, I know you’re still in there, you have to be.”

“Oh? Is there anything left of him in there, Dingo? Do you feel bad about what you’re doing to Chance here?” the badger asked Dingo, and the big lug’s ears fell back slightly, and he gave a little whine.

“A…A little? I want to be a good boy though, so I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“Don’t worry Dingo, you’re being a very good boy–you’re doing everything exactly right.” Geoff said, and gave him a skritch behind his ears, watching his big dog’s tail wag, tongue lolling about in delight, “I figured there would be some–but once this little mutt under you is gone, there won’t be much left to hold him there in his mind anymore. Then you really will be mine–that’s what you want, right?”

“Yes sir! I love being your big stupid doggy!”

Chance gave a growl and redoubled his efforts to worm his way out from under Dingo’s massive frame, and managed to make a little progress, but before he could free himself, he felt the badger’s claws on the end of the collar around his neck. “Now, now, you need to stay put, little doggy,” the badger said, and he tugged the collar, tightening it another notch–and then another still.

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 5)

“Now, as for you, pup, why don’t we start with the basics,” Geoff said, as he pulled another doughnut from the box, “Go ahead and sit for me.”

Chance hesitated, not wanting to give into the compulsions the collar was trying to drill into his mind, but he felt his butt try to hit the floor all the same.

“Now pup–remember what we talked about. If you don’t act like a good boy, and do everything I tell you to do, you aren’t going to qualify for the force tonight, and I’ll have to find someone else to take a stupid, worthless mutt like you instead. Now, are you going to sit like a good boy? Or do I need to go get the electric collar out of the car to help you out?”

Chance growled a bit, not even realizing that his teeth had turned slightly sharp, but went down on his ass.

“Good boy!” Geoff said, being extra patronizing, “Now eat up your whole treat–I like my pups big and fat.”

Chance tried to fight it again, but hearing that he’d been a good boy short circuited his brain for a moment. He swallowed down the whole doughnut, and licked the badger’s finger’s clean, before he was able to pull away, embarrassed at what he’d just done, and determined not to give in any further.

“Alright, now beg for me pup, tell me how much you want a treat from me.”

“Fuck you,” Chance said, “You’re fucking insane. You won’t get away with this.”

“You don’t think you’re my first recruits, do you?” the bader said with a laugh, “No, I’ve had these collars a very long time. My last partner finally got too fat to pass the fitness exam about six months ago, and spends his days stuffing himself with food, getting even fatter. Maybe you should go stay with him, if you don’t make it on the force? I bet he would like a little mutt of his own to play with–I don’t think he can even reach his doggy cock anymore. Is that what you want? You want to be some slave to my old, obese partner?”

Chance didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know whether the bader was even telling the truth…but what if he was? He certainly hadn’t been lying about anything else. Maybe…maybe being belligerent was the wrong way to get out of this…maybe he could just go along with it, just some of it…after all, it did feel so…good, being a good boy for master…

“Come on pup, beg for me. I want to hear you say what you want.”

“I…want to be your good boy sir,” Chance said, trying to keep the words back, but they just kept pouring out, “I want to be a fat pup, I wanna be on the force sir, a…a slutty, fat pup recruit for you…for you to abuse, and…” he finally managed to hush himself, but the badger was beaming with delight, and that just made it worse somehow.

“That’s a very good boy, now eat your treat,” The badger said, pushing another doughnut to Chance’ mouth, and he ate it, savored it, because he knew he’d earned it. “Tastes good doesn’t it? It tastes good being a good boy, right?”

Chance nodded. It did, and he could feel the doughnut sliding down his throat and settling in his stomach, and as it did, he felt a bit heavier–or was it just his imagination?

“I want to hear you say it.”

Chance looked from the badger, over to Dingo–over to Angus–and then back again. He could feel the collar around his neck, and it felt so tight, and heavy, and he…he didn’t want to make them mad anymore, it felt so wonderful, being a good boy, and isn’t that what he wanted to be, really? “I…I like being a good boy…”

“Whose good boy?”

“Y-Yours…sir,” he tacked on at the end. It seemed to be what the badger was looking for, and his he showed all of his sharp teeth with his next grin.

“And do you want more treats, mutt? Do you want to stuff yourself silly until you’re just another stupid, fat mutt on the force, doing everything I tell you to do, like a dumb, obedient animal?”

The badger pressed another doughnut to Chance’s lips, and he didn’t fight it this time, or at least, he tried to fight it, but it was so hard, and he could almost feel the collar tightening around his neck, threatening to click another notch and reduce him even further. He opened his mouth and ate it, there was another burst of pleasure, and he…he lost himself, for a while. The badger would issue orders, order him to do tricks, and while each one was more humiliating than the last, he found himself not caring at all. He was doing what Master said, after all. He was being a good boy. Finally, he found himself eating doughnuts off the badger’s cock, and then sucking on it, licking up all of the icing he could find, while Dingo, sitting a ways off, had his uniform pants down around his ankles and was masturbating slowly, watching Master do to his husband everything he had done to him the night before–and while he knew, deep down, it should horrify him, so much of Angus was just…gone. Master, and his collar had seen to that after all, sanding away the edges of his mind until there was nothing left beyond what Master allowed, rattling around in a mostly empty skull.

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Parts 1 & 2)

Chance had been trying not to panic. Angus had told him he was getting drinks with a friend and that he might be out late, which was usually code for Angus hooking up with someone. It didn’t bother Chance necessarily, though he always liked to know where he was going and who he was meeting. He’d asked for details, and Chance had sent him the name of a bar he didn’t know well…but none of that was really cause to worry. He made dinner, but Angus didn’t show, so he ate by himself and put the rest in the fridge for him when he got home. The evening wore on into night, and Chance found himself checking his phone every few minutes, resisting the urge to text him, and when he finally did…he got no response. Not even a read notification from him. Still, he’d have to check it at some point, right?

Chance had gotten ready for bed and laid down, but couldn’t stop checking his phone, and certainly couldn’t get to sleep not knowing what was going on. He ended up going downstairs for a snack and to watch some TV. It was after midnight when he finally dozed off, and his alarm went off for work at six the next morning…and Angus still wasn’t home, and he still hadn’t received any word back from him.

There had to be a rational explanation right? This…wasn’t normal behavior, but Angus had been behaving a bit…oddly for the last few days, ever since that embarrassing stop by that cop. Chance had…an inkling of what might have happened between his husband and the cop that night, while they’d spent a few minutes back behind the car, but he hadn’t really wanted to believe it had actually happened. Was there something else going on entirely, that Chance didn’t know about? Angus had, on rare occasion, slept over with someone he hooked up with. Most likely he had gotten too drunk to drive, and maybe too drunk to remember to text him, and he’d ended up sleeping over on accident. Still, even if the explanation was reasonable, it didn’t do much to settle the anxiety brewing in his gut.

He got ready for work, expecting and hoping that Angus would burst in and everything would be fine. Chance would be…angry, sure, but mostly, he just wanted to know that he was safe. He never appeared, and Chance left him a note, and then went to work. He couldn’t focus though. He kept checking his phone, kept trying to call and message, but now…now his texts and calls didn’t even seem to be getting through, like Angus’s phone was in airplane mode, or dead. He ended up taking a break and calling the office here Angus worked–but no one there had seen or heard from him either–which was very unlike him. Chance told his manager he needed to leave to take care of an emergency–which he was very much hoping it wasn’t, went home, but Angus still wasn’t there…and so, he called the police.

The operator he spoke to was very empathetic, but told him that the police didn’t open a missing persons investigation until someone had been missing for 48 hours. In the meantime, she told Chance to call the last place he knew he’d been–and gently suggested calling local hospitals, and asking about any recent admissions without ID. Chance couldn’t even begin to think about what that might mean, and so he found the number for the bar Angus had texted him and called them, wondering if they had seen him. To his surprise, no one remembered him, or anyone like him, visiting. He had them check for a purchase with their shared cards, but there was no record of any transaction. Had Angus lied to him? If he had…then why?

He put off calling hospitals for a few more hours, but did eventually, mostly because the anxiety of not knowing was worse than the most dire possibility. He didn’t know whether he should be happy or not, when none of the hospitals in the city turned up any record of Angus being admitted, or of any John Doe’s matching his description. It was like he had just…vanished. Had he left? Why would he leave? Why would he want to leave and make Chance this miserable? None of it made any sense, but there was nothing else that he could do, aside from wait.

The knock on his door surprised him, but he rushed for it anyway. Any news was good news at this point, at least he would know. He flung open the door, but it wasn’t Angus, even though that wouldn’t have made any sense. Instead, he found himself looking at two police officers in uniform. In front was a short, stocky badger, smiling at him, and behind him was a nearly seven foot tall, massive, dog. He too as smiling, but he didn’t seem…nearly as nice as the shorter badger–if anything, it was…menacing. “Hello, we’re here about a possible missing person,” the badger said, “Do you mind if we come in?”

Chance stepped aside and the two officers entered, and he was relieved that someone was doing something at least…though it was odd all the same. “I…I thought the police couldn’t do anything until after 48 hours? That’s what the operator told me when I called.”

The badger nodded, “Well, there have been a few…incidents, similar to this one lately. I wanted to investigate it early, before…well, I can’t really provide details about ongoing investigations, but time is of the essence in these cases.”

“Of course, anything I can do to help.”

The hefty dog didn’t say anything, just sniffed around a bit, looking…slightly confused. Chance noticed he had on a collar, which was odd. Most dogs didn’t wear collars–it tended to send the wrong sort of message. In fact, there was something else odd about this. He had given the operator his name and phone number–but he couldn’t recall giving her his address. He must have though–how else would the officers have found him? Now that he thought about it again, he must have. That was the only thing that made sense after all, and he wasn’t exactly sure of whether he was coming or going at the moment, anyway, to be sure of, well, anything.

The badger sat him down in the living room, and started asking him what seemed like fairly normal questions. Where Angus worked, whether he’d had plans the night before, whether he had any hobbies, anything that he might be doing. Chance answered honestly…but the questions seemed a bit…general, somehow. Every time he tried to give him details about how Angus had been acting oddly, or about the bar he’d told him about, the badger didn’t seem interested in those parts of the story at all. At the same time, the badger sitting in front of him seemed…familiar, somehow, but he couldn’t quite place him. It was after the interview had been going for a little while, that Chance had an epiphany–the badger in front of him was the same badger who had stopped him and Angus a few nights ago, on their way home from the city.

Was it a coincidence? Maybe it was…but why would a cop be out patrolling the highway late at night one day, and investigating missing people the next? It didn’t make sense. The badger’s partner was a bit…off putting as well. He kept nosing around the room, sniffing things out, but he still hadn’t said a word since stepping in the door. As the questions became more personal, asking about Angus’s family, asking about Chance’ family–which didn’t have anything to do with Angus being missing–and he finally asked the badger for his name and badge number. The badger just smiled, gave a whistle, and before Chance could do anything, the dog had rushed over, planted his thick paws on Chance’s shoulders, and had him pinned to the chair he was sitting on.

“Good boy,” the badger said, “Thankfully, you were slow enough to catch on that I got more than enough information for my purposes. That means we can skip right to the fun.” He stood up, slid one paw into his pocket, and pulled out a leather collar, similar to the one the dog looming over him had on. “Well, I can tell you one thing for sure, Chance–your husband isn’t missing. He’s right behind you.”

Chance looked at the badger, and then up at the rough dog above him, confused. “What…what are you talking about?”

“Well, on Saturday, when I pulled the two of you over, Chance…really did not want to go to jail that night, so I offered him a trade of sorts–suck my cock, and I could look the other way…but you probably knew about that, didn’t you? You don’t seem surprised by it. Did you tell that husband of yours what you did Dingo?”

The big dog shook his head, “No sir, I…I didn’t say anything about it.”

“Aww, were you embarrassed Dingo? Didn’t what your husband finding out how much more you like sucking my cock than his?”

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t know what fucking kind of joke this is, or if he’s in on it, but fuck you. Where’s my fucking husband?” Chance said. He tried to force his way up, but the dog leaned over further, pressing him back down, and he felt a blob of drool land on the top of his head.

“I already told you–he’s right there,” the badger said, fished around in his pocket again, and this time came up with Angus’s phone–and his wallet. “Looks like you’ve been messaging him plenty, lots of missed calls. I would have set up a rendevouz elsewhere, but he forgot his passcode, didn’t you Dingo?”

“Sorry sir,” Dingo said.

“He’s not too bright, that man of yours–good thing he’s got so much else going for him.”

“This isn’t fucking possible,” Chance said, “Look–if this is some…prank, or if I fucked up, just…just have Angus come out already, this isn’t fucking funny, alright?”

“Well, I suppose I can’t say I’m surprised that you don’t recognize him, but that’s the magic of the collar I suppose. He’s so much better as a good boy, than he ever was as a man, right Dingo?”

“Yes sir!” the dog said, “I’d much rather be master’s good boy, sir.”

“What do you think, Dingo, think this one-time husband of yours might make a good pup too?”

Dingo nodded, flinging more drool around, and Chance realized the thing pushing into the back of his neck was the dingo’s erect cock. He tried again to get up, but Dingo gripped him harder, digging his claws in enough to poke Chance through the shirt he was wearing, while the badger approached, collar between his claws, the grin on his face even wider, as Chance tried to pull away from him.

“Now now, don’t fight–you’ll feel so much better soon enough. If you’re a real good boy, I might let you top that husband of yours later, would you like that? Or were you usually the one getting topped, I wonder? That’s probably more likely–that blow job of his was pretty lackluster before I slipped his collar on him back there behind the car. After that…well, he was plenty eager, just like you’ll be I bet.”

Beasts of the Corn (2 of 2)

I was completely turned around at this point, shouting for my friends, but getting no response. My phone had no service at all, so I knew I was on my own. A few minutes later, I got ambushed by two more of those things…and I remembered it a bit more. How one pinned me down and…and the other fucked my ass, it’s claws raking across my back, teeth biting into my shoulders. Again, when I could get up, I had changed–more hair, fatter…shorter, and were my arms a bit longer even?

I didn’t know what was happening, or how any of this was even possible, but I kept going, kept searching for the exit, even as the beasts followed–taunting me. I could…hear them now, even understand them. They all wanted me to stay, they wanted me to play with them, to…to feed them. I didn’t know what they meant, but I was determined to avoid finding out what they meant my all of that. One of them chased me, and I managed to dodge it and run away, only to run right into two more. I could see them more clearly now–they were like nothing I’d ever seen–no more than three feet tall, with a round belly and short bowed legs. Their cocks were huge, and they reeked of some scent which is just…impossible to describe. Those two raped me as well. I mean, I say rape, but…but I enjoyed it. It felt good, having them inside me, and when one presented its hole to me I…I gave in. I fucked it, like it had fucked me, but I stopped myself. I stopped and hauled my cock out…and it didn’t look quite human anymore, and it was bigger.

I understood, then, what these things were. I understood what would happen to me if I gave in, if I let them have their way with me. I ran off again, shutting my ears to them, refusing to entertain their suggestions. That I relax and stop running. That I play with them. That I become one of them. That I don’t really want to be human. There was…one more time, that I couldn’t resist. It was almost night, and I was exhausted and cold and hungry. One of them jumped me, and I was so tired of fighting, so tired of being so scared. They could all feel me, beginning to give in, looking to see if this was the moment I would break. I…felt my body shifting more–my beard longer, my teeth sharpening, my balls swelling larger with strange, inhuman seed, my brain dulling around the edges-losing focus and will, but I crawled away. I’d still be in there if I hadn’t found the exit a few minutes later, stumbling out of the corn, sobbing, unsure if I was happy to be out, or if all I wanted was to go back inside.

The hicks…I understood who they were now. They were like me–tied to the beasts of the corn. They offered me shelter and food at the house, and I took it, desperate. They were amazed that I’d made it out at all–they rarely saw anyone as far gone as me emerge…and stay. I knew what they meant. I could feel the desires tugging at me. I could never go back to that old life of mine. I could stay here, living with them, fucking…keeping each other as sane as we could be. Feeding others to the beasts so they might give us a night without the whispers, calling us back inside. I took another picture of myself, in the bathroom. I looked at myself as I’d been, and as I was now. No one was surprised when I threw my phone in the trash, left the house, and ran back into the maze, the beasts cackling with delight as they descended upon me in the darkness.

Source: danartrd

A Familiar Fantasy (Part 3)

Arthur woke up, groggy. He was sprawled out in a massive bed, and without really thinking about it, he swung his legs over the side, went to stand up, and instead fell about a foot to the floor on the side of the bed, where he tumbled over, and looked up at the room around him. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t his imagination. This was really happening to him. Derrick was really a wizard, and he was really shrinking, and he had no idea just how small he was going to become. He stood up, and found that the top of his head came just to the top of the mattress–if he were in better shape, he’d maybe have been able to climb back up to where Derrick was still snoring–but as old and out of shape as he was, there was no way he’d be able to make it back up there. Besides, he had to piss more than anything–but how in the world was he going to get up to the toilet, at two feet tall? He walked to the bathroom to inspect it, and sure enough, there was no way he’d be able to get up there…which meant he was going to have to get help, he supposed.

He went back into the bedroom and went around to Derrick’s side of the bed. He reached up, but couldn’t touch him, and so he was forced to yell up at him to get him to wake up. His voice was strange–the smaller his neck was becoming, the higher pitched his voice had become. He was almost sounding a bit…squeaky? He didn’t want that to turn him on a bit, and yet he was getting hard all the same. The humiliation of having to get someone up to help him piss was just as horrifying, and yet also…something he had fantasized about before, actually.

It took some effort, but Derrick finally roused himself and got up. He went with Arthur into the bathroom, lifted the little man up onto the toilet seat and helped him balance while he pissed, and then made him wait while Derrick emptied his own bladder, and then made Arthur jack him off into the toilet bowl as well. He wasn’t exactly enthused about the idea, but Derrick threatened to abandon him on a high shelf for a couple of hours, and so Arthur did as he was told, and jacking a cock which was so large compared to his own–he got hard as well, and ended up jacking himself off after Derrick had cum-and then he lifted Arthur back off the toilet, and offered to make breakfast.

The table was too big for him, so he sat on the floor, with a little box and a little dish of food. It seemed like so little, and yet he was full as soon as he’d finished it, and Derrick insisted he measure him. A foot and a half. Eighteen inches. He didn’t even reach Derrick’s knee. He felt puny, and helpless, and yet so…excited somehow, when Derrick picked him up and put him on his shoulder. The height was a bit dizzying for him, and he could barely believe that just one day before, he’d been standing at that height all the time.

“So what do you think? Is it everything you wanted it to be?”

“Actually…yeah.” Arthur hadn’t felt this happy in ages. He felt like himself, somehow. He spent the rest of the day with Derrick in his library, and while his master read, he sat in his lap and toyed with his massive cock, which a few hours later, had grown as large as he was, when erect. He was shrinking slower now, and yet every lost inch at this point only made the entire world around him expand exponentially. Everything looked new to his eyes–while Derrick cooked dinner, he explored the counter top with a strange glee, amazed at what he could fit inside, amazed at what he could see. He’d finally stopped shrinking it seemed–he was now three inches tall, and looked to be able the size of a large mouse. He ate the bit of dinner his master set aside for him, and then Derrick carried him in the crook of his arm down into his workshop.

“So, do you want me to change you back?” Derrick asked, setting him down on his desk, crouching down so he could look Arthur in his tiny eyes. “Don’t think about the rest of the world, about that life you had. You can have a home here with me as long as you like. It’s been a rather long time since I’ve had a familiar, and I think I would be the first person to have a human one, but you would be a help in certain tasks. So just think of what you want to be.”

Derrick sat down on the desk and looked around him. The lamp towered over him, and the room was so dark he could barely see into the corners, but he could see Derrick’s face–the creases and lines, the age he’d never noticed because he’d never known where to look, but it was amazing how being this small brought the little things to focus.

“I want to stay, I think. Maybe…maybe not forever. But for now, I do.”

“That sounds like a good plan to me too,” Derrick said, “Now, do you want to see some magic?”

Arthur nodded. Derrick put his hand on the desk, and Arthur climbed his way up his arm, sweating a bit when he reached the man’s shoulder, but he had a wonderful vantage point from which to see everything, clinging to his new master’s collar, and for the first time that he could remember, Arthur felt he was right where he belonged.

A Familiar Fantasy (Part 2)

Derrick had been so nice about it, despite the fact that it was so damn strange. Because Arthur didn’t really want to be someone’s boyfriend. He didn’t even necessarily want to be human, exactly. What he really wanted, as strange as it might sound…was to be a pet. Not that he becomes a animal, no, just that he…shrinks down. Too small to do anything for himself, too small to object to anything, just at his owner’s mercy–and honestly, being at the mercy of someone like Derrick was appealing, and part of him was worried that this weekend–he’d try to do something to Arthur, set up some scene or something, and he just wasn’t that interested. He was ok with his fantasies being impossible! He’d managed to come to terms with the fact that he’d just always be…too big to feel right. He’d tried, with a few exes, some…things, but all it had done was make him feel self-conscious. Better to just accept his strangeness and move on, accept that…sometimes life can’t be what you want it to be.

Then again, depending on who you know, sometimes it can be.

That’s what Arthur discovered when he arrived at Derrick’s house, frustrated at his ill-fitting seat in his car, both eager for the company of a friend, and yet terrified that he’d do something to alienate him, like he always seemed to do to men he liked. He didn’t notice that the cuffs of his pants were brushing against the ground, but the steps up to the front door did seem a bit higher than they had the first time he’d visited. He knocked at the door, and after a few moments it opened, and he found himself looking…up.

That wasn’t right–he and Derrick were the same height, and he’d always seen him eye to eye. The sensation of looking up at him was enough to send a flurry of sexual excitement through him, but it was just a trick, of course. Platform shoes? A higher step into the house? He looked down–but Derick was barefoot, and the step was only a couple of inches higher than where he stood–but then how…

“How’s my little man doing this evening?” Derrick asked him.

The small inconveniences of his difficult day started repeating in Arthur’s mind, fitting together into a larger picture. How he’d only ever adjusted his office chair up–never down. The same with the seat in his car. How his boss had been at eye level, despite being an inch or two shorter than Arthur. How poorly his well chosen clothes were fitting. There was no way it could actually be happening, right?

“You doing ok, Arthur?”

“I don’t…I think…” Arthur started to say, looking down at himself. “This is going to sound a bit crazy…but do I look shorter to you?”

“Sure. I’d say you’ve probably lost about six inches. Now, are you going to come in or not, little man?”

He said it again–that’s how Arthur had described his fantasy to him, in simple terms. To be a little man, someone’s pet person. Small, even kept in a cage, brought out for fun on occasion, cared for, perhaps even adored…But wait, had he just agreed with him? That he was shorter? And…he hadn’t even seemed curious about the question? No, he’d been expecting it, or something similar. Arthur narrowed his eyes at him. “Do you…what…”

“Come on in Arthur, we should chat.”

Part of him told him to run, to get to a hospital or…something. But his cock was hard, and that smile on Derrick’s face…Arthur stepped inside, and the wizard closed the door behind him.

“Ok…so you’re a wizard.”

“I am a wizard, yes.”

“You…cast a spell on me?”

“I did. I have to admit, I have a certain, soft spot for men who find themselves hopeless in the world, who want the impossible. This is…a new one for me–but you are rather cute, you know.”

“No one’s ever called me cute before.”

“Well, you’ve never been five feet tall before, either.”

“…You can change me back though, right? I mean, this isn’t permanent?”

“What if I don’t want to change you back? What if you don’t want me to change back? Wouldn’t those be more interesting questions?”

“This isn’t a joke, Derrick! This isn’t–I mean, you have to ask people before you do stuff like this! This is really fucked up.”

“But you like it–I can tell. Besides, you never would have come if I’d told you. You never would have believed me. You’d already resigned yourself to the impossibility.”

“But I have a life! How small am I going to get, anyway?”

“I’m honestly not sure. I’m as interested in finding out as you are.”

“I can’t go to work if I’m a foot tall, Derrick.”

“Who says you’d have to work? The world is so much larger than you imagined–sorry for the pun, but it’s true. There’s so many other possibilities.”

“But–Hey! You can’t just–put me down!”

“Why should I? Now give me a kiss, little man, and then we’re going to bed–I want to fuck you while I can still fit inside you.”

A Familiar Fantasy (Part 1)

Derrick walked around the set up in his kitchen one more time, double checking the details of the ritual. It wasn’t something he’d told many people in his long, long life, across a string of shifting identities as he moved from place to place, but Derrick was a wizard, and a rather skilled one at that. The gift had been passed to him almost two centuries earlier by an older lover at the end of his own life. As far as wizards were concerned, Derrick was just now approaching middle age, and he appeared it…but he’d also found himself growing a bit lonely over the last few decades. This modern world was so strange–it was rather astounding how fast things were changing now. His own magic felt almost…unnecessary at times, now that he had a mini computer in his pocket. Still, there were some things technology couldn’t do–but one thing it could do was…facilitate meeting men, and Derrick had, much to his own surprise, found someone interesting. A man named Arthur who looked close to Derrick’s own age, and therefore often seemed childish to Derrick, and yet he was sweet…and he also had something else that Derrick found fascinating. Arthur’s fantasies–well, as far as he knew, they were hopeless. But to a wizard, well, nothing was quite as hopeless as it might seem.

It was always a bit nerve wracking conducting a spell he’d never attempted before-especially one which, he assumed, could have some rather…unfortunate side effects, were someone to miss a detail or two. Still, there was no way of knowing without trying, right? He focused, and began–in the center of the circle in front of him, a few strands of Arthur’s hair, and as the spell progressed, and the energy in the room thrummed about Derrick’s mind and body, he could see the strands began to pull into themselves, growing smaller and smaller. He stopped the ritual and broke the circle when he could barely see the hairs, the energy pent up released into the night, surging out in search of their target, and he searched about for the hairs–he hadn’t gone on too long, had he? In the end, he had to dig out a magnifying glass from a cluttered drawer of various tools, but he spotted them, and breathed a sigh of relief. Everything had gone as it was supposed to–now all he could do was wait. The two of them had already made arrangements to spend the weekend together, so Arthur would arrive tomorrow afternoon–and depending on how things went, he might not be leaving for a while. Derrick grinned at the thought–he was too energized to sleep, something which always happened when he performed magic too late–and he pulled a recently acquired grimoire from his shelf and perused it until the early hours of the morning.

What a strange day, Arthur thought, as he wrapped up his work on Friday afternoon in preparation for his weekend with Derrick. He was still a bit…surprised that he’d ended up in a relationship with him, or at least, it was a relationship to him. They hadn’t really made anything official yet, but Derrick didn’t really seem to be the kind of guy who liked making things official. In fact, Derrick was someone who kept himself frustratingly apart, so much so that more than once, Arthur had assumed he hadn’t really been interested in a close relationship–and yet, Derrick had pursued him anyway, and it was difficult to not feel a bit flattered that someone as impressive as Derrick would want him, for whatever reason. As far as Arthur was concerned, he didn’t really have much to offer anyone–he was just a middle aged guy, overweight, insecure, burdened by highly unrealistic fantasies which made sex rather uninteresting for him. He’d been to Derrick’s house a few times–a large manor on the outskirts of town, sitting on a few acres of property–but this was really the first time he’d be spending any sustained period of time with him. He was nervous, and as far as the day had already progressed, he wasn’t too confident that things would go well.

It wasn’t that anything particularly bad had happened, it was just that, all day, things had felt a bit…off. It was little things, really. His clothes had felt uncomfortable, his pants slipping down a few times, forcing him to tighten his belt a bit uncomfortably. Same with his office chair, which he couldn’t quite seem to find the right height for, no matter how many times he adjusted it. He’d been clumsy all day, his hands not quite grasping what he’d been trying to do, and he’d broken a coffee cup both in his own kitchen, and it the break room. He’d tried to chat with his boss about a project as they were walking, but found it oddly difficult to keep up. Everything had just seemed a bit more difficult than it should have been, and now he was feeling frazzled, exhausted, self-conscious, and wondering whether he should just call Derrick and cancel their weekend plans.

There was a buzz in his pocket–a text from Derrick: “Excited to see you! You coming soon?”

To cancel or not to cancel? Arthur’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard, and despite his doubts…why not at least give it a chance? “Leaving soon,” he typed, slower than usual, because his fingers kept missing the keys for some reason, “See you in an hour.”

He wrapped up his work as quickly as he could, got up from his awkward chair, put on the coat he’d worn in that morning, and to his surprise, found the sleeves were an inch or two longer than they should have been. Was someone fucking with him at the office or something? He tried not to think about it, and left. Down in the parking lot, he had to spend a minute or two readjusting his car seat, even though he hadn’t needed to touch it in months, and then headed for Derrick’s home, about a half hour drive away, still nervous, still not very sure about all of this–still not at all sure what Derrick saw in him. Last time had been awkward enough–they’d gotten a bit drunker than he’d intended, and Derrick had started kissing him, and that had been fine, but he hadn’t really felt like going further, and then everything about all of his weird…fantasies and fixations had just sort of poured out of him in a mess. A rather humiliating mess.

Life Coach (Part 5)

The neighbors were out in their backyard again, fucking. Shane only knew a little bit about them, but they seemed nice enough. The wife was beautiful (not that Shane had any interest in women, of course, but he could still appreciate the form, he supposed) but it was the husband who attracted his focus, with his hot dad bod and nine inch cock. They fucked like rabbits, and all summer long they were out fucking by the pool, giving Shane a chance to peep between the fence boards a few minutes at the time, when he was working on master’s garden. Of course he’d never do anything–they were so happy together, and good people. Not like Shane. Stupid, worthless Shane, he couldn’t even be a good slave half the time. He had no idea why his master even kept him around half the time. Still, watching that huge cock, his own puny member was trying as hard as it could to expand in the tight cage master kept him in. He hadn’t had an orgasm in years at this point, and expected that he’d never have one ever again.

“Hey! Dumb cunt! Where the fuck are you?”

Master was calling. He went the long way out of the bushes, making sure his naked body was covered in enough dirt and dust to look like he’d been working. When he worked on the neighbor’s yards, Master allowed him to wear a ragged pair of cutoffs, but in his own yard and house Shane was always naked aside from his cage and collar. “Yes sir, sorry sir. Was weeding by the fence,” Shane muttered, sweat running down his bald head and into his mutton chops, smoking one of the cheap cigars Master allowed him. Even standing, he had to crane his neck to look at his master, who towered over him by nearly two feet. “How can I serve you sir?”

“Barry just finished his session, but he needs some practice. Meet him in the dungeon, would you?”

Barry was one of several clients who were seeing his master to help with anger issues, usually men going through divorces or who had been arrested for assault. Somehow, they always became extreme sadists–taking their rage out on consenting slaves–helping them be much nicer to real people. Shane wasn’t worthy of being a person, however. He hurried down the steps into the basement, and found that this had been a breakthrough session for Barry. He’d been a larger man in his late forties when he’d first started seeing Master Evan, but now he was huge, a full bent pipe clutched in his bearded jaw, wearing a pristine leather uniform. The excitement of his brutal punishment had Shane’s cock leaking through his cage even more than seeing his neighbor’s cock, and he threw himself at Barry’s feet, begging to be punished.

It began with kicking and stomping, and then Barry hauled Shane up from the floor, suspended him in the air, and began whipping him, making sure to add his own welts to Shane’s back on top of his master’s other anger management clients. He couldn’t remember the last time his back had been without at least one wound, and he was secretly thankful his master never allowed him to wear a shirt. He…secretly liked the fact that everyone in the neighborhood could see what kind of treatment he deserved, and he also thought that wearing anything against these welts would be horrifically painful. After he had been whipped to Barry’s satisfaction, he gave Shane a deep fisting before finally slamming his own cock in deep, exploding only a few seconds after his entrance. After all, for Barry, it was the pain that got him off more than anything else. After he came, a look of bliss came over his face–he undressed and hung up the uniform, and left, happy to no longer the angry man he had been anywhere outside this dungeon, where Shane was more than happy to take anything Barry–or anyone else–thought he deserved.

Master came down after Barry left, and spent a few minutes tending to Shane’s wounds, making sure his back, in particular, didn’t get infected. There was little love in these moments, however–it was clear that his master wasn’t tending to him out of any sort of love or care, but merely as one would maintain a tool, to ensure it had a long life of usage. Shane had lost his cigar at some point in the session–he found the half-smoked end and relit it–Master would only provide him a new cigar after he ate the last butt in front of him.

Shane cooked dinner for his master, and then had his own small portion. After that, it was time for his evening rounds through the neighborhood. His master had been busy over the last few months, ever since the two of them had moved in here. So many good people around them had been living boring, tedious lives–and there were quite a few terrible people who hadn’t deserved the lives they had. That thought…tugged at something in Shane, and he felt even worse than he usually did, but pushed the concern away–he had work to do and men to serve. Phillip needed to be fed–he’d recently become too large to get out of bed, so master had been kind enough to provide him with an automated feeding system. Still, it had to be filled twice a day, but the mush fed continuously to him ensured the fat ass would keep growing until Master Evan decided he could stop. After that, it would be time for a session with Nick and Roy–they had been a nice gay couple a block over, but Master had found them to be far too boring. Now, the two of them were a pair of muscle bound, smoked out daddy bears, and Master was enjoying seeing how freakish the two of them could become. Still, since they were both tops, they needed a bottom regularly to keep them happy, and Shane was usually the one who had to take care of them both. Recently, however, they’d both developed a rather disgusting fondness for piss, and the last few times, Shane had to waddle back home, his already rotund gut distended with several loads of piss and cum. Still, a slave’s work was never done, right? He pulled on his cutoffs, said goodbye to his master, and set off for the evening, glad that even if he was a fucking loser, he could serve his master, and the neighborhood, to the best of his abilities. That was something, at least.