Buried Treasure (Part 1)

I was older, by eleven minutes. It’s hard to tell if that was why I was always the one in charge or not, but I certainly had a habit of lording it over Mike every chance I got. I got first helpings at dinner, I got to sit in the front of the car, I got the top bunk of the bed. I…It never really occurred to me that he might resent me for it. Maybe it hadn’t even crossed his mind that he should hate me for it. He was just always so easy going, you know? But I knew what I wanted to be–I wanted to play sports, and Mike came along for the ride, because as if I was going to be in control, that meant I needed to have someone to control, right? And for the longest time, that was Mike, for me.

Of course, the real reason everything went so…wrong, was Cory–our cousin. But I need to start with Mike and I, because that’s the reason everything went wrong with Cory in the first place. See, maybe I just always hated the idea that I couldn’t be alone, that Mike was always there too, shadowing me–and as much as I wanted him there, I also hated him for it, I think. So yeah, I wasn’t the nicest brother. Hell, I wasn’t the nicest guy at school, or anywhere else. I’d fuck shit up and try to pin it on Mike–I usually got caught in the end, but it was enough to remind him of what I thought of him. If he had a girlfriend and I didn’t, I tell her awful secrets about him–true or not–and get them to break up. I deserved it, I suppose is what I’m trying to say. Don’t feel too bad for me, in any case.

Cory would come to visit us in “the big city” for a few weeks each year. Our uncle wanted him to have at least a bit of exposure to culture, so when he came over, that meant our parents would cart all three of us around to museums and zoos and shit like that. Cory looked like a big dumb lug, but he was actually really smart beneath all of that fat and stupid grin and that accent of his. He was smarter than me, and that pissed me off–so I’d tease him non-stop, mostly for being fat, but also for his stupid accent. He hated me so much, but he liked Mike–and that meant I had to get Mike to play along with me, and ridicule him too. Mike always hated to do it, but he was stuck with me for the rest of the year, while Cory could get away after a couple of weeks. It was worth the trade, and even Cory could understand that.

But then came last Spring. All three of us were seventeen, juniors in high school, and I was just ready to be done and off to college already on an athletic scholarship. Cory arrives–and immediately, I can tell something is different about him. Usually when he shows up, especially the last couple of years, he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else–and I love that fucking look, because it means I have the power again. But this time, he shows up with this old ass looking ring on his finger, and when he looks at me–fuck, all I see is pure fucking anger, enough that it actually scares the wits out of me. Mike can see it too, and he looks at me, wondering what to do…or maybe who to side with. “Hey Darren, long time no see,” he says to me–the words are nice enough, but the scowl he’s throwing at me…I can’t even speak.

That first day, I dread the possibility of being alone with him. He’s planning something, but I’m pretty sure I’m safe with my parents in the house–but then, he talks to my mom and dad, suggests they go out on a date and spend the night in a hotel room…and they just up and agree with him! An hour later, it’s the three of us, alone in the house, and Cory is just smiling at me and Mike like we’re fucking mice in a trap. That ring–the way it catches the light–there’s something…wrong about it, but I can’t look away from it, and neither can Mike…and when Cory suggests that the two of us take off our shirts and start making out…it just seems like the most obvious and necessary thing in the world.

I can tell we’re both fucking scared out of our wits, but that’s not stopping us at all, and when Cory emphasizes that we need to be enjoying this, that we should look like we’ve been making out with each other in secret for years–I can actually…remember all of the times before, when we’ve done this, and we’re both moaning, and I hear Cory unzip his pants and start…jacking off while he watches us…

Soon enough, I’m on all fours while Mike is pushing his cock in my ass, Cory egging him on, telling Mike how much he hates me, how much he wants to hurt me, and how I deserve it. Telling Mike how…how much he loves Cory, how much he’s always loved Cory, and then he’s inside me–raw and unlubed. I scream in pain, but Mike doesn’t care anymore–he’s too busy making out with our cousin while he rapes my hole–and it’s clear that these two weeks are not going to be ones I’m ever going to forget in a very, very long time.

The Risks of Subletting

Since I missed a post yesterday, today’s content is double length to make up for it!

Me, Marvin and Alex were all good buddies at school, so when Marvin told us that he’d found a house a few blocks off campus that the three of us couple probably afford to rent together, I was certainly excited by the idea. I’d been living in a double on campus with a guy named Harry, this fat fucking nerd–he was nice enough, I suppose, but that’s just not what you want to wake up in the same room with everyday, you know? Now the three of us, we were all jocks–different sports, but we all worked out together and trained together anyway. Alex was a football guy, Marvin swam, and I ran cross country and track. Marvin might have been the slimmest, but I like to think I was still the hottest of the group–certainly I got the most tail of everyone.

The only problem was that we had to start leasing the place in June. Well, it wasn’t a problem for Marvin and Alex; they both had jobs here for the summer, and were planning on staying around and taking a couple of summer courses. I on the other hand, was heading home for the summer, and so I’d have to find someone to sublet my room to for a few months. Then, my fat roommate mentioned he’d received a research grant, and needed a place to live for the summer around here, and so I offered the room to him, sort of as a joke, but he took me up on it. I knew Alex and Marvin weren’t going to be very happy about living with Harry, but they could suffer through it for a few months, right?

I’d met the landlord, Mr. Adams, by this point too, but it was just a short meeting so I could introduce him to Harry, since Marvin was kind of handling all the details of the renting and lease. He was an older guy, and fuck, he was even fatter than Harry was, as hard as that was to believe. Still, he seemed…disappointed but understanding that I wasn’t going to be using the room for the summer, but he and Harry got on really well, so that was something, at least–in the end, it seemed like everything was shaping up, by the time I packed my things, said goodbye to Marvin and Alex, and got on the train home.

My summer was pretty ordinary. Picked up my usual job helping out in a local warehouse. Hooked up with some old ex-girlfriends who might hate my guts, but they all loved the shit I could do with my cock. I stayed in contact with Alex and Marvin, and they seemed to be having a really good time in the house together, and they couldn’t wait for me to get back to school. They’d even seemed to take a liking to Harry, which surprised me, since I couldn’t stand the nerdy guy, but whatever. It was time to head back to school soon enough. I had to go back a week early for training with the team, so I got there to the house…only to discover that something very strange had been going on.

Marvin and Alex greeted me at the door, and fuck–they’d both fucking ballooned up into a couple of fledgling pigs. I didn’t know what to make of it, and even worse…the two of them couldn’t quite seem to keep their hands off one another, like a couple of faggots. Then, it came out, they actually were a couple of faggots, and had moved into one room together at the landlord’s suggestion, which meant that Harry could have the extra room and keep living with all of us for the year.

Needless to say, I was not amused or interested, and I told them that there was no way I was going to be sharing a house with the three of them. I tried to get them to see that this was all wrong, but they were just staring at me like I was crazy. We were still fighting when the front door opened and in came Harry–though I could only recognize him from his face, since he too had packed on more weight that I thought was even possible. “Well, well, look who finally came home,” he sneered at me. The…anger in his voice was palpable, but not something I’d ever heard before. “You guys tell Mr. Adams he was here?”

“Hell yeah man, Master Adams already had a nice long talk with him. We’ve just been waiting for you to get home.”

I had no idea what they were talking about. ‘Master’ Adams? Mr. Adams was the landlord, but I hadn’t seen him today, had I?

“Let’s find out–boy, get the fuck over here and suck my cock. It’s been a long day in the lab, and daddy’s fucking horny.”

I wanted to tell Harry to shut the fuck up, or I’d shut his mouth for him, but instead…instead my body did something else. I got down on my knees in front of him, hefted up his sagging apron while he dropped his shorts, and I…I started sucking his cock, while Alex and Marvin made out and started fucking behind us, and I finally realized that my living situation had gotten more complex than I’d realized.

I didn’t want to be doing this. I was utterly disgusted with myself. I was straight! I hated fat fucks like this! I needed to get the fuck out of here! But no matter what I told myself, no matter how I tried to fight, my body was completely focused on one thing, and one thing only–sucking daddy’s big, juicy cock until he filled my hungry gut with a big load of delicious cum. My own cock was suddenly hard at the thought, and I started rubbing it, moaning, Daddy chuckling at me as I did, at what a fucking whore I am for big men like him. He was getting close now, leaking profusely in my mouth, and out of the corner of my eye, I swear I saw Mr. Adams next to us, naked, swore I could…hear him speaking. I managed to pull away from the cock to look over, just as Harry blew his load all over the side of my face–and no one was there next to us at all.

“Come on boy, let’s get you situated,” Harry said, reached down, and hauled me up by the collar of my shirt, “Master already told me what he wants me to do to you, and I’m so fucking excited boy, you don’t even fucking know. If I do real good, then he promised me that I’ll get to be a real daddy even, and you’re gonna fucking love that, I can already tell.”

He dragged me over to the couch, sat me down, and turned on some cartoon channel or whatever. I tried to get up, but when Daddy told me to stay–I stayed. My ass couldn’t leave the fucking couch, no matter how much I wanted it to, and then, daddy started feeding me. I don’t know where all the food was even coming from, but it just kept appearing. Mountains of junk food and fatty deep fried shit I would have never touched in my life, but once…Daddy told me to eat it, or if he just shoved it right in my mouth for me…well, pretty soon, I couldn’t stop. I…I sat there for hours, just watching mindless shit on TV, stuffing my face, and I never even felt full. That was the scariest part. I ate more in an afternoon than I usually ate in a week, and I only seemed to be getting hungrier by the second.

Alex and Marvin came down for dinner and gorged themselves. I tried to get them to help me, but I couldn’t even speak. I felt dead to the world, trapped inside my own body, shoveling filth into my mouth non-stop. It was a relief when Daddy told me it was time for bed around eight o’clock, at least, until I discovered my new bedroom. It was decorated like something a ten year old would want, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was when Daddy bent me over the side of the bed and fucked my virgin ass, and again, I…saw Master Adams there, on the bed in front of me, leering down and jacking off his own cock, talking to me, to us…

It’s been a few months now. Alex and Marvin are still going to class and college, but I haven’t left the house since I arrived here. Daddy wakes me up at seven after a good night sleep, sits me on the couch, I watch TV literally all day while he feeds me non-stop, and then, I go back to bed. It’s…fucking with my head. I was never the smartest guy before, but I feel like I’m getting even stupider by the day. These shows are so fucking juvenile, and yet I catch myself laughing at them like an idiot, spraying food everywhere from my mouth while Daddy…beams at me, and I feel warm around my groin, and realize I pissed my diapers again. But seeing my old daddy happy just makes…makes me lose control, every time.

These diapers are new though. I’ve…been losing control of myself a lot lately, especially at night, and so Daddy started diapering me up, telling me it’s what Master wanted, to keep me protected. I’m fucking humiliated, and yet, I can’t sucking stop pissing myself. I even shit in them yesterday. I tried to stop it, but it just…came out. Daddy told me I was a good boy, and changed me, and I…I do like being a good boy for Daddy, I guess. Daddy’s gotten really sexy lately too, the way his hair is balding, that thick beard turning grey. He’s…he’s my favorite person in the whole wide world, and I’m so lucky I get to be his little boy. Still, it’s bedtime for little boys now, and Daddy’s taking me to bed. I…see myself in the mirror, and I barely even recognize the fat, smooth body looking back at me…or is that just who I am now? I don’t know, thinking is hard, and Daddy’s cock is delicious. I’ll suck Daddy’s cock now, and try and think again later.

Daddy Whores (Part 1)

Officer Carson was at his desk, finishing his report of the arrest he’d made earlier that afternoon, back behind the cafe where he usually gets lunch in the early afternoon. The report he was writing, detailed how he’d seen an older man strike up a conversation with a stranger at a table in the cafe, and the two of them had exited together and went around behind the building. Thinking it could be a drug deal, he went around the building after them, only to happen upon something…very different. There was definitely money exchanged, but not for drugs–behind the dumpster of the building, the older man was on his knees, sucking the younger man’s cock. Officer Carson told them to stop, the younger john booked it, and he arrested the older man and brought him in.

That’s what he was writing, at least, but that’s not quite what happened earlier that afternoon.

Some of it was true, of course. He had been at the cafe. He had witnessed money changing hands, and someone’s cock had gotten sucked. But the young man in his report–that had been him, and the very straight Officer Carson was still trying to fathom how, exactly, the old faggot had managed it. That is…how he’d gotten this young, strapping officer, back behind that cafe, willingly allowing that…disgusting old man to suck his cock.

Carson was a star of the police department. He’d only been on the force for a couple of years, but there was already chatter of him getting promoted to detective. He had proposed to his girlfriend a few months back, and they were planning their wedding this summer. He’d seen the man staring at him, through the cafe window for a minute or two. He looked to me in his seventies, at least, with almost no hair on his head, hunched over, his body almost lumpy with fat. He’d pegged him for a fag immediately–no normal man would just stand and stare at another dude like that, but he’d planned on just ignoring him, like usual. What he hadn’t expected, was the man to enter the cafe, bold as brass, waddle right over to Carson’s table and lean on the side, his face inches from Carson’s, who had his mouthful of sandwich. “Hello stud–I bet you’d like having that big cock sucked by daddy, wouldn’t you?”

Carson was too surprised to speak, and as he struggled to swallow, the old man’s hand found its way into his lap, to the bulge which was well outlined in the uniform pants Carson wore rather tight, and he couldn’t help but moan through half-chewed bite. In less than a minute later, he’d followed the old faggot out and around behind the building, dropped his pants, and the old fuck had started slobbering all over his cock. The entire time, Carson tried to deny it was happening, told himself that he needed to stop this, that he didn’t want this. But…but he did. He enjoyed the faggot’s mouth–it was a better blowjob than he’d ever had in his life, and he came after a couple of minutes, the fag swallowing it all down hungrily.

“Thank you for feeding this daddy,” he said, and stumbled up, “But there is matter of payment. Twenty dollars for this pig daddy’s services, please–this daddy has to keep his boy fed, sir.”

Carson wanted to refuse, but as in the rest of the encounter, he found his body acting on its own. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, handed the old man a twenty dollar bill, which he quickly stuffed in a pocket.

“Thank you sir! I’ve seen you eating lunch here often, and I’ll be sucking your delicious cock regularly, yes I will!” The fat man hauled himself back up to his feet, and Carson’s disgust welled back up at the sight of him. He was so fucking vile, and he’d just let that…toothless mouth suck his cock. He was shaking with fear and rage as the fat man walked back around to the front of the building, a bit of a skip in his waddle, and Carson couldn’t move–but he fought past whatever block this was, forced himself to grab the old man and shove him up against the wall, arresting him for prostitution. The whole time, the man was whining, saying he couldn’t be arrested that if he didn’t get home to his boy that evening he’d be in such trouble. Carson didn’t listen to a word he had to say, however, and it was clear that the old man was…shocked, and frustrated, that Carson was no longer obeying him. In the end, the old man would probably be held overnight, and then released–Carson, after all, didn’t want the matter investigated too deeply, unless his own…actual involvement be discovered. But a night in jail might be enough to discourage the faggot from approaching him again.

He was nearly done with the report, and most of the other officers had gone home for the evening, and he was planning on following them out the door soon. But before he could, a young man, he couldn’t have been much more than twenty, looked into the room, a bit timidly. He was chubby, with disheveled hair, and quite pale skin, like he hadn’t seen the sun in quite a while, and his clothes fit quite poorly. One of the other officers asked him if he was lost, and the young man, in a small voice, politely asked the man to show him where he could find Officer Carson. The officer was more than happy to help such a helpless boy, and pointed him to Carson’s desk, and continued on his way. The boy’s eyes hardened at the sight of the man who had caused him and one of his daddies such trouble–but he knew how to deal with men like that, oh yes he did, and this Officer Carson would learn his place soon enough.

Movie Night (Part 2)

Wade and Phil had been using Matt as a clueless fucktoy for close to a year now, after discovering that spell book in the attic of the house, shortly after moving in. As soon as Matt–or Jess–set foot in their house, neither one of them could resist a command from either man. But Matt…had never been very exciting in bed, and that was when, perusing the book one evening, a spell had appeared which Phil thought might be the answer to their problems. They’d tried it the next week, casting it on Matt and their TV, so that whenever Matt saw a person on the screen, Phil and Wade could make him believe he was that character until dawn that next morning–or at least, that’s all they thought it would do.

In fact, they discovered quickly, the spell did more than make Matt think he was that person, he actually became a complete copy of that character in the movie. Over the weeks, Matt had been any number of different porn stars–Wade and Phil had wide ranging tastes, and almost always liked their sex kinky. Matt had been a massively fat pig slut, a twinky stripper, a stupid muscle faggot, several different bear slaves, and when Wade had found this film online the week before, they’d both known for sure that they needed Matt to be this guy next.

The more Matt watched, the more and more his body copied the appearance of the guy in the film, the tattoos coating his body as his hair shrank away, and that hunger in his ass was becoming more and more difficult to deny. Pretty soon, Matt’s memories of his life with Jess had completely faded away, replaced with new ones–how he spent his days and nights as a skinhead slut pig, begging rough and dirty men like the one on the screen to fuck and fist his holes. He moaned on the couch when Wade’s fist slipped into his ruined hole, and when Phil pulled his cock free from his pants, his mouth watered. He kept one eye on the screen for a while longer, until his transformation finished, and then the new skinpig devoted his attention to the cock in front of him, worshiping it happily for the rest of the night, down in the dungeon below the house.

The next morning, Matt left, his old self again, no memory of the night before aside from a pleasant evening watching a movie with his two best friends. Still, he…really wasn’t very happy with Jess–maybe she did have a point. What if he really was gay? Maybe next week, he could talk to the guys about these new feelings he was having. They might be able to help him sort things out.

Movie Night (Part 1)

“I guess I just wish you wanted to watch movies with me as much as you want to watch with them,” Jess said to Matt. She had a playful tone, but he could tell she was hurt a bit, “and you always come back so late.”

“I’m just next door, Jess–they’re our neighbors, and it’s only once a week,” he said. “You have your girl’s night out don’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s just…I don’t have my girl’s night with a couple of lesbians, ok? It’s weird that you hang out with them so much.”

Matt rolled his eyes, “You’re so paranoid. They’re just nice guys!”

“And they obviously want to have sex with you. They look at you like I do,” Jess said.

“Whatever–I’m going over there, and you can work out your paranoia alone, how about that?” he said, properly angry now. He left the house without saying goodbye, headed down the driveway and over to Wade and Phil’s house next door. So what if they were gay? They were just guys like him. And honestly, sometimes he preferred spending time with them to his nagging wife, not that he’d ever tell her that. Besides, they were always perfect gentlemen–he’d never even been hit on by either of them. They knew he was straight, and they were all just friends. He knocked on the door, and pushed the anger aside. He was just going to have a good movie night, and not let Jess ruin it for him. Wade opened the door a moment later, and he stepped inside, the usual wave of relaxation washing over him. He just…always felt so good, when he was here. The house was so clean and organized, everything in it’s place. He didn’t even notice as he was taking his clothes off, stripping naked before taking his usual place between them on the couch, the two of them still fully clothed. “Alright guys, what are we watching this week?” Matt asked.

“Heh, this is one of my favorites, Matt. Ready Wade?”

Wade nodded, and they started the movie. It opened in some dark dungeon, where two guys dressed in rubber were working over a third in between them, and the guy was a fucking freak. His entire body was covered in tattoos, from the neck down, and he had a ton of metal pierced in his face. His head was shaved, and he looked like he was drugged out of his mind, as the other two bent him over and started fisting his hole.

Matt just zoned out, working his cock, oblivious to the tattoos that were starting to snake their way over his body. Wade pulled up one of his legs, giving him access to Matt’s ass, and he started working it with a couple of fingers, his hole already starting to loosen. “Yeah Matt, this is definitely one of your hottest movies, I think. You really liked having those two freaks fist your holes, didn’t you?”

“Fuck yeah, Mate,” Matt said, drooling a bit as he stared at the TV, “I was…real fuckin’ hot in this one, for fuckin’ sure.”

VIP Package (Part 3)

“I still don’t understand what the fuck that fucking means!” Jeremy screamed at the buff young man behind the desk, who simply maintained the same plastic smile all of the fucking men on staff had, and nodded along.

“Yes sir, you’ve said that several times. I can assure you that your husband is safe, and will be returned at the end of the cruise, or earlier, if our VIP guest chooses to remove him from his package prior to arrival back in Florida.”

“Who the hell is he fucking that’s so fucking important he can’t spend his vacation with me?”

“I can’t disclose any information about our VIPs, sir.”

So what, he just fucking disappears on a fucking a boat, with some fucking stranger?”

“He’s providing a vital service for the cruise line, and will be handsomely compensated at the end of the voyage.”

“Oh, and now you’re telling me he’s a whore, too?”

The man behind the desk thought a moment, grinned, and then nodded, “Perhaps, in a sense, if that helps you understand. But that’s still not quite precise enough. However, I cannot clarify further, because I cannot disclose the nature of our VIP packages to visitors in the midst of their fantasy voyage.”

“Some fucking fantasy.”

“Would fucking a member of our staff help, sir? I can offer you someone on the house, if you’d like.”

“I’m going to call the fucking cops when I get off this fucking boat, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Our company has filed and been granted a special waiver, and at sea, our vessels are classified as sovereign nations. Even if you told the police, they would have no jurisdiction. That said, further threats against our ship can be considered an act of war, so I would encourage you to leave, and not press the issue further.”

The man’s eyes, had turned stony, and the grin, while pleasant, was…also menacing. If it was a bluff, it was crazy enough to sound possible. Samuel was the lawyer–all Jeremy knew how to do was ride the markets for hedge funds. Still, it was clear that this muscle fuck wasn’t going to give him any answers, so he did leave the cruise ship complaint office, frustrated, but also terrified and confused. The last he’d seen Samuel, he’d been napping at the pool, while he’d gone off for a quick fuck with a cute guy next to them. Well…quick had turned into a couple of hours, but Jeremy hadn’t figured Samuel would mind. They…hadn’t exactly been getting along well, and this cruise probably wasn’t helping much. Samuel was just…so easy going about all of this shit, and all Jeremy wanted was for him to fight for him, to show him that he was wanted. He didn’t want to keep pulling away, but the more distant he got, the less Samuel seemed to even care. Here’s where it had gotten him: alone on a massive ship, his husband keeping some rich fuck company as…as something similar to a whore, and he had no fucking clue about any of it. So he did what he’d always done when things went south–he got shitfaced at the nearest bar.

He was, at first, only going to do a shot or two to steady his nerves. Then, he just needed a couple more before that bear a stool or two over looked a little more handsome. Then, after slurring and flubbing his pickup line and getting firmly rejected, he decided to call it a night. He stumbled back to his room, managed to get the key in the door, and he hoped against everything that Samuel would be in there, ready to clean up another mess, and he’d just…demand they talk about this, about everything. He’d apologize for everything, ask for everything to be right again, to make this work. But there wasn’t going to be anyone in there–he was gone, probably for good, now. He managed to get the key in the door, and nearly fell through it when it opened, and when he looked up, sitting on the edge of the bed…it was Samuel, or at least, he thought it was. It was hard to tell, when the world didn’t seem to want to stop twirling.

“Jeremy? Jeremy! Oh god, oh fuck, I didn’t think I’d see you again, but I begged daddy, and…and I had to do such dirty things, but he said I could see you baby, he said I could be with you.”

“S-Samuel? Is that you?”

The man looked a bit taken aback. “You fucking–that’s not my name! My name is Sammy! What the fuck is wrong with you?” He shook his head, “I’m…I’m sorry, he’s still in my fucking head, but it’s ok. Just…don’t call me that, I don’t want to be called that anymore.”

Jeremy focused, trying to clear his head, leaning against the wall beside the door. When he opened his eyes, the swirling had eased up, and he could see…Sammy there, on the bed. It…was his husband, he could see that, but he wasn’t quite the man he remembered. No, Samuel had been buff, and greying, and…a fucking hot top, when he was in the right mood, but the man in front of him…no, it couldn’t be him. For one thing, he was fucking fat–probably 350 pounds at least, with no real definition, just flab, and all of it perfectly smooth. His face was smooth, and looked so young, the rest of his skin without a fucking blemish at all…aside from a prominent birthmark on his right shoulder, which Jeremy knew intimately. He couldn’t process this, what in the world was even happening. “I…I must be hallucinating, you look like a fat fucking…boy, or something.”

“Oh…Oh fuck…” Sammy groaned, “Oh fuck, say…say it again.”

“What?”

“Come on Jeremy, you know, call me what I fucking am.”

“What, a…fat fucking boy?”

“Fuck…fuck me daddy, fuck!” Sammy got up from the bed, grabbed Jeremy, and shoved him towards the bed, where he landed, and Sammy climbed on him, tearing his clothes off, finding his cock. “It…seems so small…but I don’t care. Daddy said you wouldn’t be enough for me, but I don’t care! I don’t…I mean…” Jeremy was trying to protest, trying to get a handle on what was happening, as Sammy stroked his cock, but he was both too turned off–and too drunk–to get hard. “Fuck…Fuck you! You fucking…you’re fucking worthless, he was fucking right! You…you can’t give me what a boy like me needs, fuck, I…I need a, I need my daddy!” Sammy shouted, and fled the room, leaving Jeremy befuddled on the bed, and he passed out not long after that.

VIP Package (Part 2)

They reached their destination floor after a few moments, and stepped out onto a level of the ship Samuel hadn’t explored–and he realized a minute later, after walking across the plush carpet in his bare feet, looking at the gold trimmings and elegant decor, that he was probably not even supposed to be aware that this floor existed. It wasn’t like Samuel and Jeremy hadn’t splurged on decent tickets, booking a fairly large room with an ocean view right below the main deck, but he had seen those astronomical VIP packages on the website…is this what that bought?

The waiter rounded a corner, and Samuel followed, finding himself in a spacious, high ceilinged lounge–or whatever you might call something between a restaurant, bar, and bathhouse. There was a haze of smoke hanging in the air, a mix of pot and tobacco, and in the haze he could see men lying around the room, fucking, relaxing, and looking out the windows through binoculars at the deck below–where Samuel had been lying a moment earlier–occasionally consulting a small tablet they had with them.

The waiter led him close by the window, where an older man was sprawled across a fluffy sofa, wearing a silk robe which had fallen open, exposing most of his body for anyone to see. He was…not quite Samuel’s type. He usually went for muscle bears like himself. A bit of a gut was alright, as long as the guy could carry it well, but anything like this man–Mr. Bishop, the waiter had been calling him–was quite simply out of the question. He likely weighed close to 450, or perhaps even 500 pounds, the rolls of flab cascading around him, almost like he was a massive pillow, a part of the sofa itself. The one thing standing apart, quite literally, was the massive, erect cock jutting out from the flabby rolls. It was…impossibly large, at least a foot, if not longer. Realizing he’d been staring at the cock a bit longer than he’d like, he jerked his eyes away, taking in the flabby body coated with a thick layer of grey hair, and up to his face. He had a thick, well trimmed beard, glasses, and was smoking a cigar. Mr. Bishop smiled when he saw Samuel there, and set down the glass of whiskey he’d been sipping. “Ah, I can’t believe it! I’d never thought a lawyer–but then, hope springs eternal. Come boy, have a seat with me, don’t be shy.”

Samuel tried to resist, but like before, his body was far more keen to obey Mr. Bishop’s voice than his own desires. He sat down, gently, on the edge of the sofa, only for Mr. Bishop to grab him and pull him back, so he was reclining against his fat body.

“Is there anything else I can do for you sir? Someone else for your package perhaps?”

“Oh no, Samuel here will suffice. Though do schedule an appointment for him in the Salon, in one hour.”

“Of course, Mr. Bishop. A pleasure, as always, to have you sailing with us.”

The waiter left, and Samuel heaved himself up and away from the man, tried to stand, but his ass stayed stubbornly planted on the sofa. “Please, I don’t understand what’s going on. I’m…flattered, really, but this isn’t what I thought this was.”

Mr. Bishop laughed, smoke pouring from his mouth. It’s alright boy, I’ll be happy to answer some questions for you, in a moment. First, however, I want to…take care of a few things. Samuel, please go unaware for programming.”

He had no clear recollection of what happened next. He seemed to be…floating. Present, but everything in his mind turned off, and open. Mr. Bishop was speaking to him, and he would respond on occasion, but it seemed…unimportant. Natural. And when he awoke, a few minutes later, this loss of memory didn’t unnerve him–even though he knew it should terrify him out of his wits. He was standing now, looking down at the fat man, still reclining in front of him, like nothing strange had happened at all. “What…just happened?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Mr. Bishop said, waving a bit of smoke away with a hand, “Now, I’ll answer a few questions for you, at least, until you can’t control yourself any longer, and have your way with me, boy.”

He leaned on that last word a bit, and when he did, a mild shot of pleasure raced through Samuel’s body, from the top of his spine, right to his cock, and he moaned, breath quickening. He looked at Mr. Bishop again–no, at…at Daddy again, and…and where before he’d been quite turned off, he found himself beginning to appreciate the man’s appearance a bit more than he had. “What…why did that feel so good?”

“Oh, that’s an easy one. Every time I address you, boy, you’re going to feel an escalating sensation of pleasure, and find me more and more attractive each time. We’ll see how long before you can’t stop yourself from climbing up and fucking yourself on my massive daddy cock, boy, like the slut you’re going to be, soon enough.”

Those two slammed into him with more force than the first. Samuel’s cock was hard, his ass twitching, and looking at Mr. Bishop now…fuck, he suddenly was finding the old, fat fuck attractive. He shook his head, trying to clear it as best he could, fighting whatever was happening to him. He needed answers. “Please, please stop this, this isn’t what I wanted.”

“Silly boy, you still think this cruise is about what you want?” Mr. Bishop saw Samuel’s knees start shaking. Mr. Bishop heaved himself forward on the couch, grabbed Samuel by the crotch, and pulled him closer. He stumbled forward, and collapsed in front of him, on his knees, staring at…at all of that fat. But he didn’t want this…right? “I can see how you might make that mistake, and think that the fantasy in the name of the company implies a fantasy for everyone. And sure, mid level guys like you, there are a few fantasies for you, boy, like that whore who talked your husband into bed with him, and that bear you were eyeing down at the pool. Sluts, hired by the company, to please upper deck passengers, and you never even know it. But no, the real fantasies that come true, boy? You have to be a real VIP for that, like me. And my fantasies? They’re rather…complicated.”

Samuel had stopped listening. He was too busy ripping off his swimsuit and climbing up, straddling his daddy’s massive frame and slowly dropping himself onto his massive cock, not even taking the time to lube it up with more than a handful of spit. He needed it inside him, needed this beautiful daddy to fuck him. The waiter arrived an hour later, to remind Mr. Bishop of his appointment at the VIP Salon, and he led Samuel away, towards the back of the ship, for his first proper makeover.

VIP Package (Part 1)

This story takes place in the same setting as the caption story “Cruising” I posted a couple of months ago. The stories are unrelated, but it might help establish some background for ya’ll. Here’s Part 1 and Part 2.

Samuel rolled over on the chaise under the hot, Caribbean sun, looking over at Jeremy. His husband was rolled away from him, talking to a stranger on the other side–flirting really, but then, everyone around them was flirting. This was the Gay Fantasy Cruise Lines after all, and it delivered. Was there anyone who worked for this company that didn’t have a perfect eight pack displayed at all time? He listened to the two of them chat, Jeremy trying too hard like he always did, and wished Jeremy would talk to him like that, at least on occasion. It was the second day of the cruise, but he estimated that the number of words the two of them had spoken during their vacation was less than two hundred, and nothing of any substance, sexy or romantic or otherwise. Were they on this cruise to save their relationship, or put it to sleep? He rolled back over and shut his eyes, enjoying the sun, if nothing else. He feigned sleep, heard Jeremy get up off the chaise, and take off.

It wasn’t the sex that bothered him. He’d never been the jealous type. But wasn’t this supposed to be a vacation for them? Together? He couldn’t even invite Samuel to come along for a threesome? He opened his eyes, staring up at that deep endless blue, and sighed. He’d known this wouldn’t work, but regardless of their ailing relationship, they both had needed a vacation. Maybe freeing himself from one rut would help him get out of a few others. He sat up, stretched, and looked around the deck of the ship, certainly pleased with the view–and more than happy with the stares he was getting as well. It wasn’t like either of them was lacking in the looks department. They each spent a good chunk of time keeping themselves fit, and even though they’d each just passed the big forty a couple years back, Samuel was quite pleased with the muscle bear he’d become–a bit of grey in his goatee and chest hair, a little weathered around his eyes, hairline receding slightly, but without becoming unsightly. If Jeremy was just going to spend the whole cruise fucking instead of dealing with anything deeper, there was no reason for him to bother, right?

He cruised another bear on the other side of the pool for a minute, gauging interest, when a member of the hyper-muscled waitstaff stepped between them, smiling down at Samuel. “Thanks,” Samuel said, waving him off, “I don’t need a drink or anything.”

“Actually sir, one of our VIP members has taken an interest in you, and has requested that you be added to his package.”

Samuel looked around the man at the bear, surprised, then back at the waiter, “What does that mean?”

“Men who opt to become part of a VIP member’s package have their cruise fee refunded, receive a significant stipend for each day they remain a member of the package, as well as other benefits. Any modifications are of course removed at the end of the cruise, though some after effects have been reported. Affirmative consent is required. Terms and conditions apply, of course. Would you like to read them? I am required to advise you that you should do so.”

Samuel, a professional in the legal field, was a bit taken aback by the string of jargon, but he’d never really been one of shy away from risk. Besides, it was just a cruise, right? “Sure, why not? I consent.”

“Very good sir, Mr. Bishop will be pleased. Now, if you would just press your thumb here…” he presented an small electronic screen. He pressed his thumb to the screen, and immediately an electric shock shot through him, paralyzing him. “Now, just a matter of administering your control chip,” the waiter bent Samuel’s head forward, and pressed something cold and metallic to the base of his neck, and a piercing pain sent sharp pain to the end of what seemed like every nerve in his body. “The chip will be removed at the end of the cruise, or when your VIP no longer desires you to be in his package experience. Thank you for volunteering, and helping make our VIP’s experience on Gay Fantasy Cruise Lines an unforgettable experience!”

The paralysis was wearing off, and Samuel was able to reach around behind his head, and feel the bump at the base of his neck. “What the hell did you just do to me, you fuck?” he shouted.

“I did advise you to read the TOS, if you’ll remember, as required. Now, follow me, and I’ll escort you to your VIP.”

The waiter stepped back, and Samuel wasn’t about to follow this crazy fuck anywhere, but much to his surprise, he stood up–his body disobeying his own mind entirely. “What–how the fuck did you do that? You fucking, this is fucking insane! I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Don’t worry, once we reach your VIP, I’ll transfer complete control to him. Now, come along, and don’t make a scene.”

Samuel followed behind the young gymrat, watching his tight ass swing back and forth in those tight trunks they all wear, sailor hat perched perfectly askew, and he hated him. He wanted to drown him in the pool, he wanted to savage him, but instead, he simply followed the smug, crazy fuck off. Samuel was still assuming, at this point, that the VIP had been the bear he’d been cruising, but at the corner of the pool, they kept going straight, towards the entrance to the ship. “Wait, where are you going? I thought he was back there?”

The waiter looked back, over his shoulder, “Who, that bear you were looking at earlier? Oh no! Mr. Bishop is up in the VIP lounge. He’s been watching you for most of the morning, along with a few other candidates I was prepared to invite to join his package if you declined. He’ll be very happy to know that his first choice agreed! It always makes me so happy when our VIPs are happy, you have no idea!”

“I should at least tell my husband–”

“Jeremy will be notified of your new status, when he’s done with the guest he left with earlier.”

They got to an elevator, stepped inside, and started to rise. Apparently, he should have read that fucking fine print–and now, who knew what the fuck he’d gotten himself into.

The King’s Ring (2 of 2) –

Reminder: after this weekend, all of my original content will be moving over to my main blog, @wesleybracken. Make sure you’re following me there if you don’t want to miss any posts!

He held the ring out to me, where I was kneeling. I could…sense that he wanted me to kiss it, and as soon as my lips made contact…it was like something was being sucked right out of me. My youth? My will? My identity? It…had to have only lasted a few moments, but it felt like ages, with my mouth to that cold metal, until it finally released me. “Now–another meal, slave. And then my bath.”

“Yes sir,” I said, automatically. I was still…inside my head, but I no longer had any control over myself. I stood up, feeling my knees ache slightly, and I went back to the kitchen. I was desperately trying to stop myself, to regain control, but I couldn’t. I had to obey. I was just…just a slave. An old slave faggot. I eventually saw my reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall, and I would have screamed, if I could have. I…really was old, now. I must have been close to fifty. I had a silver goatee, a paunch, a thick leather collar around my neck, and shackles on my arms and legs…and my cock was locked in a chastity device. Still, I cooked feverishly, and delivered a five course meal I hadn’t even known how to cook, and he…ate all of it, all by himself, while I serviced him, and cleaned him, being sure to get between his piss soaked thighs.

When he’d finished, he again spoke. “I could do away with you entirely, you know. But he likes you, for reasons I cannot begin to fathom, and he’s much easier to control with you here. I will give you control again, but defy me one more time, and you’ll be gone. Understand, slave?”

I nodded, and I felt the other persona fade back, but my body hasn’t returned. I should be thankful, I suppose. Others who I’ve…brought here to serve our king haven’t been so lucky. I know he’s still in there, somewhere. If I could just get the ring off that finger…but the fat has grown around it. I’m afraid…it won’t be coming off until he’s dead, and who knows when that will be. The king has not let me service him since my…outburst, but he forces me to watch as the cubs pleasure him–young, mindless things who crawl over him, riding his cock and sucking his nipples, and…and fuck, if I don’t love watching it, and he knows it. He’s fucked my mind to bits–none of us do, and neither will you. I have no life other that servicing him, and finding more subjects for his kingdom. Now kiss your liege’s ring, like a good pig. We need another toilet, unfortunately, but you can be thankful–toilets don’t get minds, so you’ll be gone soon enough. Just a kiss, and everything will be over–I promise.

Source: maturemenintrouble

The King’s Ring (1 of 2) – Reminder: after this weekend, all of my original content will be moving over to my main blog, @wesleybracken. Make sure you’re following me there if you don’t want to miss any posts!

There’s something…wrong, with my boyfriend. We were a pretty normal couple, just a couple of twinks, really. We worked, went to the gym together, went clubbing and dancing on the weekend. Sure, we did drugs on occasion, but we’re young, right? But one day, he comes home with this…ring on his finger. I ask him about it, and he tells me he got it at some strange store he happened across on his way home from work, but he didn’t seem to walk to talk about it. I mean, we both wear jewelry a bit, sure, but it just seemed…old, and not at all his style. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, but that…it seems like that when things started to get a bit strange.

Slowly, he stopped going to the gym. He tried to keep up for a few weeks, but he kept telling me he was just too tired, and didn’t feel like it, and he started begging off. I kept going, of course, but I’d come home, and find him on the couch…stuffing his face, and as soon as I’d arrive he’d fucking want sex! I tried to say no, but he’d always get me on my knees, sucking him off while he just…kept eating, and watching TV, like…like I didn’t even matter, and he’d never fucking reciprocate anymore. It was confusing–I was usually the top, but now, all I was doing was sucking him off, or he might, on occasion, fuck me. I…didn’t even really want to have sex with him, and he disgusted me, really, but I…couldn’t say no to him. It just didn’t feel right.

Within three months…he didn’t even look like the same person anymore. He’d packed on…I don’t know, two hundred pounds? He had a huge gut, a thick beard across his face, and hair all over his body too, which I thought was so fucking gross. I…hated him, really. I despised him, and I wanted to leave–just ditch him there, but I…couldn’t. As much as I hated it, I kept going back there, I kept sucking him off, and…and licking him clean. He wouldn’t shower anymore–he was telling me that was my job, to give him nice tongue baths every day, everywhere from between his grungy toes, to his ass crack, his pits and the deepening folds of his neck. He was enjoying humiliating me, making me worship him. I cook for him constantly, whenever I’m home–hell, he’s forbidden me from going to the gym now, because he needs more and more food! But tonight…tonight, something in me just fucking snapped.

He’d…pissed himself on the sofa, and was just lying in it. I was so utterly disgusted by it, that I just started screaming at him, shouting, calling him every cruel name I could think of, and tell him I was done, that I was done with him, that if he wanted to be some slob, he could do it alone. Finally I stopped, and tried to move my feet, tried to leave…but I couldn’t. And he’s just…laughing at me. It doesn’t even sound like him, he’s almost some different person entirely. Then…then I saw the ring, how it was catching the light, drawing my attention to it.

“Now, now. We can’t have you leaving now, can we? Who will take such good care of us?” he said, “No–but you do need to be punished, don’t you? Yes…a good punishment for a bad, bad slave. Now come over here, and kiss the ring of your king, like a good little bitch.”

Source: jbearv