ChatChange (Part 3)

DaddySugarBear: Hello, anyone there?

HTHogarth: Hi. Who is this?

DaddySugarBear: Oh, just a mutual friend. Hold on a sec…

<<RealiChangeChat Enabled. Establish ChangeConnection…Connection Established. Subject ready for change.>>

<<Toggle SubjectAutonomy: Obedience–Unaware>>

DaddySugarBear: Alright, there we go. Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself? And turn on your webcam too, please.

HTHogarth: I’m not really that interesting. Just a bookworm mostly. I’m studying microbiology, and I’m planning on going into medicine, like my father. He’s always pressured me pretty hard to follow in his footsteps, though I always kind of wanted to be a musician.

HTHogarth: I play in the band here, and that’s a lot of fun–gives me something to do when I don’t have my face in a book, you know?

DaddySugarBear: This is all rather boring. Turn on your cam.

HTHogarth: Oh…sorry. You did ask.

DaddySugarBear: Yes, I did, I shouldn’t have. Cam?

HTHogarth: Oh right

<<CamChat enabled>>>

HTHogarth: You know, this is kind of weird. Do I know you?

DaddySugarBear: Oh no, you don’t know me yet.

HTHogarth: You know? I think I might just log off.

DaddySugarBear: Oh don’t go anywhere! We haven’t even started having any fun yet. Lean in closer so I can get a better look at what I’m starting with.

HTHogarth: What do you mean, “starting with”?

DaddySugarBear: Don’t worry about it. Damn, you’re like a twig, we’re going to have to fix that for sure. Just as boring as your friend was too, so we’ll have to make you a bit more interesting. I mean, what’s with your chat handle?

HTHogarth: HTH are my initials. Howard Thomas Hogarth.

DaddySugarBear: How about a nickname to start with? Nicknames make everyone more interesting, right Ogar?

HTHogarth: Ogar? What kind of name is that?

DaddySugarBear: Yours, soon enough.

<<Change initiated…Change applied successfully>>

OgarRoar: Well ya thats my name. People always call me that cause I look like a fuckin ogre.

DaddySugarBear: You sure do, damn! Look at the size of you! Back up from the cam man, all I can see is your damn chest.

OgarRoar: Sory

Ogar: That better?

DaddySugarBear: Much better. Damn, how tall are you?

OgarRoar: Like six eight. Tried to play basketball but Im too clumsy. Better at football!

DaddySugarBear: Oh? You play sports?

OgarRoar: Duh with a bod like this why not? I get all the damn chicks I want too

DaddySugarBear: Ugh, I need to just make that a damn default already.

<<Change initiated…Change applied successfully>>

OgarBear: All the dudes I mean, duh, pussys fuckin gross

DaddySugarBear: Of course, I agree completely

OgarBear: U wanna fuck? I got the evening free if your close. A/S/L?

DaddySugarBear: Oh don’t worry, I have someone you can fuck. Would you like to meet him?

OgarBear: Sure I guess. Kinda weird tho

OgarBear: Why not just have him message me?

<<Initiate Group Chat.>>

<<Invite contact [RbbrPissSkinPOS].>>

<<[RbbrPissSkinPOS] has joined the conversation.>>

OgarBear: Who the fuck? No fuckin way man that who the fuck is that?

DaddySugarBear: Oh that’s the guy you’ll be fucking. Our mutual friend, though I don’t think your paths have crossed really, not now.

OgarBear: No fuckin way am I touching a disgusting piece of shit like that

DaddySugarBear: Oh? How do you feel about that, you disgusting pig?

RbbrPissSkinPOS: Hes fckin right sir i am a POS skin fuck

DaddySugarBear: Well you don’t technically have to touch him to punish him, I suppose.

OgarBear: Punish him? What the fuck r u talkin about?

DaddySugarBear: Well that’s what you’re going to do. He’s been a very bad pig you see, and I need him punished, but I’m too far away. So you’re going to do it for me.

OgarBear: No fuckin way you freak im out of here!

<<Change initiated…Change applied successfully>>

OgarBDSM: Fuck, what the fuck he do? I can work on him tonight for ya

RbbrPissSkinPOS: I was so bad, such a bad pig, plese punish me, hurry

OgarBDSM: SHUT UP PIG! Don’t Fuckin speak unless one of your superiors acknowledges you. Your gonna get it for that later!

DaddySugarBear: Just general disobedience. He isn’t very disciplined, which is why I think he’d be a perfect fit with you.

DaddySugarBear: Although…I’m not sure you’d really be willing to go to the extremes my pig needs. That uniform of yours is nice, but you’re just a bit too clean. Not quite rough enough.

OgarBDSM: Oh trust me im plenty rough. Tell me where the pigs at and I’ll show u

<<Change initiated…Change applied successfully>>

DaddySugarBear: Oh yes, that’s looking much better. Biker leathers, looks like you’ve been in plenty of fights. Put some years on you too-the silver in that big, nasty beard of yours looks great.

OgarBkeDdySdtMstr: What fuckin ever

OgarBkeDdySdtMstr: Tell me where the pig is already!!! cant wait 2 get started!!!

DaddySugarBear: Pig, give him your address.

RbbrPissSkinPOS: 2439 Eustace Lane, sir

OgarBkeDdySdtMstr: Couple a blocks!!! Gt ready bitch, here comes daddy!

<<[OgarBkeDdySdtMstr] has left the conversation>>

DaddySugarBear: Well pig, are you excited? You’re going to get the shit kicked out of you in a few minutes.

RbbrPissSkinPOS: Oh fuckin hell sir hes so damn hot! Ill do anything he asks I cant fuckin wait.

DaddySugarBear: You’re going to beg him for his piss, of course. And beg him for the privilege of licking his boots and his filthy ass. You’re going to let him fist your ass with both of those huge fists, until your hole’s just a loose crater.

RbbrPissSkinPOS: Oh god yes, all those fuckin fitlhy things!!!

DaddySugarBear: And when he’s finished with you, you’re going to beg–plead him to make you his total slave, aren’t you? To collar you? Lock up that worthless, disgusting cock of yours too. You’ll be nothing but his property, and even though you’re worth so much less, you’ll still be honored that such a man would be willing to let you serve him.

RbbrPissSkinPOS: Oh fuck, yes!!! Thats the door hes here!!!

DaddySugarBear: Make sure you two fuck in this room, with the cam pointing at you. I want to make sure he punishes you properly.

RbbrPissSkinPOS: Yes sir, of course. Thank you sir!

ChatChange (Part 1)

DaddySugarBear: Hey there.

Cub90909: Hi. Do I know you?

DaddySugarBear: Just liked your recent stuff on tumblr, and wanted to say hi. 🙂 You’re a cute boy. Boring, but cute enough.

DaddySugarBear: <<Oldx would like to see your cam with you>>

Cub90909: Oh, I don’t really like turning on my cam, sorry 😦

DaddySugarBear: Oh? Why not? You post those pictures on tumblr all the time.

Cub90909: I’m just not that comfortable with people I don’t know, sorry.

DaddySugarBear: Oh? Are you sure?

<<RealiChangeChat Enabled. Establish ChangeConnection…Connection Established. Subject ready for change.>>

<<Change initiated…Change applied successfully>>

ExhibiCub90909: Heh, nah, I’m just jokin’

ExhibiCub90909: <<Cam enabled>>

ExhibiCub90909: What do you think, sugar bear?

DaddySugarBear: Hmm…not bad at all, just like those photos of yours. A Nice blank slate to have some fun with.

ExhibiCub90909: ??? I don’t get it.

DaddySugarBear: Don’t worry about it boy, why don’t you take that shirt off for me?

ExhibiCub90909: Oh? Like this?

DaddySugarBear: Yeah boy, fuck, you have some good cushion–give that belly a jiggle for me, I wanna see how much you like playing with that fat for me.

ExhibiCub90909: How’s that? Not many guys like watching me play with my fat.

DaddySugarBear: Don’t worry about that boy, just keep jiggling that for daddy, and pull out that cock of yours, start playing with it for me.

DaddySugarBear: Yeah, that’s real nice, I can see you getting into it.

<<RealiChatChange Settings: SubjectAware: ON. Subject Resistance: Minimal>>

ExhibiCub90909: Wait, what the fuck am I doing? What the hell–fuck, I can’t stop either. How are you doing this?

DaddySugarBear: Oh, don’t worry about that boy, I just wanted to help you loosen up a little bit, see what I’m working with tonight, see what sort of fun we can have 🙂 Trust me, we’re going to have a lot of fun together, I think.

ExhibiCub90909: Please, I don’t know how you’re doing this to me, but I want to stop, please!!!

DaddySugarBear: Oh silly boy, you don’t want to stop.

<<Change initiated…Change applied successfully>>

MasturCub90909: Oh fuck yeah, feels so fucking good.

DaddySugarBear: Yeah, I bet it does. Tell me boy, how many times do you think you masturbate during the day?

MasturCub90909: Hell, I don’t know. Last time I tried to keep track I lost count at 30 something. I’m fucking horny all day long daddy, I can blow and stroke and blow and stroke all day long. Fuck, gonna cum now, you wanna see daddy?

DaddySugarBear: yeah boy, show me that load of yours.

DaddySugarBear: Shit yeah, look at the size of that load. Yeah, I love how you rub it right into your fucking skin like that, you fucking pig, I bet you reek of cum all day long.

MasturCub90909: Fuck I do. God, you fucking changed me again didn’t you? How the hell are you doing this? I can’t even get my hand off my cock!

DaddySugarBear: Oh, I can see that. I never thought watching someone try and type with one hand could be so fucking hot boy.

MasturCub90909: Please, let me stop! Why are you doing this to me? I don’t even know you!

DaddySugarBear: Oh, but I know you well enough. So cute all the time, posting all those pictures of yourself, but so fucking boring. Don’t you ever feel like spicing things up? Being a little more wild and adventurous? I think you’d be so much more popular if you were willing to take a few more chances and risks. I’m just trying to help you, really, and you’re being rather thankless.

MasturCub90909: No shit! I didn’t ask for this, now fucking let me stop!

DaddySugarBear: I’m sorry, but I don’t think I will, not if you keep taking that tone with me. You’re being rather ungrateful, and I’m just trying to help. Still, if you want me to leave you alone, I will.

MasturCub90909: Yes I want you to leave me the fuck alone, and change me back already!

DaddySugarBear: Suit yourself.

<<DaddySugarBear is away>>


MasturCub90909: Fucker you didn’t change me back!

<<DaddySugarBear is away>>

MasturCub90909: It’s been three fucking hours you piece of shit, I’m not fucking around here!

<<DaddySugarBear is away>>

MasturCub90909: You fucker, you’d better fucking answer, or I swear to god.

<<DaddySugarBear is away>>

<<DaddySugarBear is online>>

DaddySugarBear: I’m here, you don’t have to be so ghastly.

MasturCub90909: What the fuck is wrong with me? It’s been hours, and I can’t fucking stop masturbating!

DaddySugarBear: Well, why would that be strange? That’s what you do now, after all. Whenever you’re alone, you always have a hand on your cock, you fucking pervert.

MasturCub90909: You said you’d change me back!

DaddySugarBear: I said no such thing, you inferred that, wrongly. I quite like you the way you are, to be honest, though I can’t say everyone at your workplace will feel the same.

MasturCub90909: What the fuck does that have to do with anything!

DaddySugarBear: Well I can’t imagine your boss will be too happy, when he discovers you jacking off when you should be working. You won’t be able to resist, after all. Hell, just knowing all the guys who will see you jacking off tomorrow is already making you hard, isn’t it? You’re going to be so fucking humiliated, and you’re going to get fucking fired on the spot, which will leave you plenty of time to masturbate at home, which is what you’d rather be doing anyway. Of course, you won’t be able to get a job, I mean, but you’ll figure something out I’m sure. Anyway, I have some other business to attend to, so I’ll be signing off.

MasturCub90909: Wait! You can’t leave me like this. Fuck, reading what you just wrote made me cum! I can just see their faces when they see me jacking off, and it’s making me horny! You’re going to ruin my life!

DaddySugarBear: Why should I care? You’ve been really very rude. All I wanted was to help you out and have some fun together, but you’re being a little shithead. Would you like to be a shithead? That can be arranged.

MasturCub90909: Fuck no, please, I’ll do anything!

DaddySugarBear: Well now that’s what I like to hear. So you’ll play with me then? We can have some fun together tonight?

MasturCub90909: Only if you promise to change me back when we’re done.

DaddySugarBear: Oh of course–if you aren’t happy with my suggestions when we’re done, I’ll return you to your boring old life if you want. Now, shall we start?

Coach Ray Gets Trained (Sketch)

Ray gave a start, and shook his head; he was falling asleep at his computer again, so it must be time to head home. He looked up at the clock in his office, in the high school locker room, and was surprised that it was already seven. He must have really dozed off there, for a while. Ray Montaigne was the head coach at River Hills High School, and he was one of the student bodies favorite teachers. He wasn’t quite in peak physical shape anymore, unfortunately–he was in his late forties, had a bit of a gut, but he could still run a nine minute mile, and bench press 200, so he wasn’t doing too badly.

He put his arms up in a stretch, and caught a whiff of his pits–damn, they stank today, he hadn’t even really done much activity himself. He mostly taught health, as well as a few PE classes, and it was right at the beginning of the winter trimester, so the sport teams hadn’t even gotten going yet. Had…had he taken a shower this morning? Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t, had he? Had he taken one yesterday? He leaned in and took another sniff, and then another, then stuck out his tongue and gave it a lick–and only after that did he question what he was doing. This was disgusting–why in the hell had he just licked his own armpit? Why…why did he want to do it some more? And why was his cock getting hard in his shorts?

Leaving one arm up, he pushed the shorts down, revealing his jockstrap, tented by his cock. It was…kind of odd that he was wearing a jock. Sure, he made his athletes wear them, but he’d always found boxers more comfortable. Last week though, he’d…kind of wanted to wear a jock, and had…had he even changed it since? Another, funkier smell his his nose, making his cock throb, and he realized he hadn’t. He’d worn the same jock for a week–he didn’t think he’d even taken it off once. That…that was disgusting, right? He definitely shouldn’t be so turned on by how…how rank it smelled…right? Then…then why was he groping his cock through the mesh? He realized he had, without realizing it, turned his face into his other pit, and had been taking deep, long snorts of his own musk at the same time–he tried to stop, but…but he couldn’t. In fact, he suddenly felt like his entire body was running on autopilot, like he couldn’t even control himself. And so, it was with great embarrassment that he saw through the glass window of his office someone enter the locker room in a hoodie, look around, and head for his office door, open it, and step inside.

He couldn’t see who it was–not with his face stuck in his armpit. The person just laughed softly, set something down on the desk in front of him, and then turned around and left as quickly as he’d come. Ray managed to rip his face away long enough to see what it was, and found himself looking at a dildo. A…sizable dildo, in fact. His hand pulled itself away from his cock and grabbed it, his face turning back to his armpit for another lick, and he put his feet up on the desk, tipping his office chair back, feeling his hole as he started pushing the dildo in dry, groaning and muttering in pain, but he couldn’t stop himself–and then he saw that he was being observed.

Outside his office, through the window, he saw the man in the hoodie who’d just left the dildo had been joined by another man–this one, however, he recognized. It was Jullian Porter–the computer science teacher who had quit the year before, after being accused of molesting several seniors in his classes. Ray had good reason to know him–two of his football players had been targets, and he was the person who had first accused Jullian. No one had been able to prove anything; none of the boys could remember details of what had happened while they were alone with Mr. Porter, but he’d been forced out all the same. Julian smiled at him, and pulled back the hoodie on the person with him, revealing…Noah. Noah Ambert, his star quarterback, who, after the humiliation of the entire ordeal, had dropped out of school shortly after Porter had quit, and no one had heard from him since. They…they were together?

He had to clench his eyes, the dildo hurt so much, but he couldn’t stop. There were another couple of inches to go, but he already felt so fucking full…his hand didn’t care, it just kept twisting and pushing and shoving, and as soon as the dildo was lodged to the root, he felt his cock start spasming, pumping cum into the mesh of his jock, Ray whimpering in something between pain and pleasure–he looked up again, and Julian was still watching him, but Noah was on his knees…sucking Julian’s cock, right in front of him, and he couldn’t do anything. His hand was pumping the dildo now, and he could feel it sliding in and out a bit easier now…and he was kind of enjoying it, even though he knew, in his head, that this couldn’t be happening. This kept going for several minutes, until Julian came down Noah’s throat, and then he walked around and into Ray’s office, behind him.

“Good to see you’ve taken so well to the programs coach,” he said in Ray’s ear, “You’re going to be so much fun in my stable. You aren’t really my kind of man, of course, I like them a bit…younger, smoother, muscled…but I’m sure we can find a use for you, once you’re…well seasoned.” Before Ray could respond, he added, “End trial, enter neutral state.” Ray’s eyes went blank, his mouth gaping–his feet slipped from the desk and he returned to a normal sitting position. Julian leaned in and gave him a kiss on the neck, before saying into his ear, “Erase memory of program trial. Add desire, dildo. Enhance desire, pit musk. Enhance desire, jock musk. Resume consciousness in two minutes.”

Julian turned and left the locker room, Noah getting up and following after him. Two minutes later, Ray gave a start, and shook his head; he was falling asleep at his computer again, so it must be time to head home. He looked up at the clock in his office, in the high school locker room, and was surprised that it was already seven forty-five. He must have really dozed off there, for a while. He rocked a bit on the dildo in his ass and moaned a bit, before he pulled his shorts up and got his things together, turned out the lights, and headed home.

Sold (Sketch)

The last stop of the school bus–Axel was the only one who got out here. Here, out in the sticks, at the end of the line, twenty minutes further than anyone else, and he hated it. he hated this place, the dust, the smell of cow manure, the nothing–all of the nothing. He wanted out, but then again, so did everyone. Still, he wasn’t going to make it–he didn’t have the proper escape velocity. Then again, not many people did. Jordan Wright–he could make it, maybe, off a football scholarship. Martin whatever-his-last-name, he was smart, and focused, even though everyone hated him and teased him for it. But Axel? Axel was average. A good football player, but not great. Alright in his classes, but no college was going to give him a scholarship. He was stuck. He was seventeen, a senior, and stuck here, in this shithole, living with his shitty dad, and he’d probably die in this same shitty place. He kicked a rock and watched it skitter. He kicked it again when he came to it, across the two lane road, and then headed up the road to the rundown house where he lived with his dad.

It was pretty rundown–his dad didn’t exactly have much money to keep the place up. He made decent money as an electrician, but with the economy the way it was and a slew of medical bills after his mom died when he was ten, Axel didn’t have to know the details to know his dad wasn’t going to be paying tuition for him. He saw out front a car in the driveway–one he didn’t recognize. Standing beside it was an older man in a stiff suit, obviously waiting for someone–Axel skirted him and went up to the front door, and slipped inside.

“I-I’m sorry, but this…this is crazy.”

“Five million dollars, and that’s my final offer. It’s a good one–you’ll never have to work for the rest of your life. He’ll be happy, I promise.”

“I’m sorry, but this is insane. I can’t believe I even let you in here, now get out of my house.”

“This isn’t like you, Aaron, I know how reasonable you are. You need to think about you, or the bank will come knocking next. Is that what you want?”

Axel came around the corner of the entryway, and found his father in the kitchen, face red, with a man Axel had never seen before. He was rather old–probably in his mid-50’s, rather portly, and wearing a starched, stiff suit. “Dad? Who is this?”

“Axel–don’t worry about him, he’s leaving right now.”

The man gave a harumph, “You should know, sir, that I’m not one to take a no lightly. Very well, we will speak again, however–I guarantee it.”

The man looked at Axel with…a strange look as he passed him, and then left. Axel pressed his dad for details, but his father wouldn’t give him any, and he pushed the odd encounter from his mind–until a month later, when his dad opened a piece of mail and let out a loud curse–apparently, his father’s finances had been worse that he’d thought–the bank was foreclosing on their house. Axel freaked out, but his dad just told him to stay calm, that he’d do what he could, but Axel needed some air–he left, and went for a walk, down the driveway to the road–but as he was walking, a familiar car rolled up to him, the window rolled down, and it was the same man from before.

“Ah! Axel, just the boy I was looking for. I suppose your dad got his notice today, eh? Pity–such a nice home, he’s never going to be able to afford anything like that again, you know.”

Axel just stared at him, unable to grasp how the man might know any of that.

“I offered him such a large sum, too. And you! You could be out of here. Out of this terrible place. You’d never have to smell manure again in your life–such a terrible odor, truly. Alas, I doubt his mind can be swayed, but here, take these papers, and tell him if he signs them, then the deal stands–ten million, that’s my last offer.”

He handed Axel a roll of documents, and then rolled up the window without another word, and his driver took off down the road, leaving Axel in the dust.

He…he could leave?

He could get out of here, his dad could keep the house, and…and did he say ten million? He unrolled the paper, but it was all gibberish to him, but there the number was–ten million paid out over fifty years–even taxes would be paid ahead of time, it looked like. Why in the world had his dad said no? He turned around and ran back to the house, and found his dad crying in the kitchen. He handed the papers to his dad, and told him to sign it. His dad told him that he didn’t understand, that he couldn’t sign something like this, but Axel just screamed at him. That he didn’t want to be homeless. That he didn’t want to be here anymore. Didn’t he love him? Didn’t he at least want the money? He left the papers in his dad’s hand and ran up to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Downstairs, his father wiped his eyes and looked at the papers again, at what they might mean. It had sounded…impossible, what the man had said, but did he even have a choice? And Axel was miserable here, and he’d be miserable staying here. No one knew better what it was like to feel trapped in a place than he, and maybe…maybe this would help them both escape. Was it worth it? He didn’t know for sure, and he knew that if he signed it, there was no backing out. He was weak; he signed it, and as soon as he did, there was a gentle knock on the door, and the man opened it and let himself in.

“I’m here for my property,” was all he said.

“He’s…upstairs.”

“It’s upstairs, you mean,” the man said, and pushed past him and up the stairs to Axel’s room, where he was tugging at the strange collar that had appeared around his neck a moment earlier. “There you are–come, we’re going home,” the man said. Unable to resist, Axel followed after him, shouting at his father to help him, but he wouldn’t even look him in the eye. He got in the car with the man–not, not a man, with…with his master, that’s what his mind kept saying, and the driver pulled out of the driveway.

“That’s good slave, now, let’s start on your training,” the man undid the fly of his suit, and let out his cock, “Get sucking–let’s see how many loads I can pump down your throat before we reach home. If you make me cum five times, then I won’t punish you–how does that sound?”

Axel tried to resist, but the collar dragged him down into the man’s lap, helplessly sucking, and figured out what exactly that ten million dollars had bought–him. His service, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t be free again for quite some time.

Ruining Mr. Fisher (Part 5)

That weekend was especially excruciating for Gerard. He’d only managed his energy to Saturday morning, assuming he would finally be free of this horrific cage once he’d delivered his son out to Ned’s trailer in the country. But driving back, he had to pull over and sob for half an hour, groping at his aching, giant cock imprisoned in a tiny meal device, his balls churning and pumping cum out anyway into his slacks, which he would wipe up with his hands and lick off, disgusted but unable to help himself. When he felt this way, the easiest thing was always to lose himself in sex.

He got home in the early afternoon, and immediately changed into his sex gear–the ratty leathers he’d had for years, which had suddenly appeared in his closet one evening after Ned had given him a sudden affinity, and history, with bondage and pain play. He went out, and started cruising. Everyone in the community knew him, of course, and the fast majority had fucked him, whether they’d known it was him or not in the dark. He focused on his service, on drinking cum, on licking bodies clean, and was lucky enough to find a leathered up silver muscle daddy to take him home and beat him for a few hours, to take his mind off his chastity for a while.

Sunday morning was still difficult. He slept late, at least, but then it was the waiting. Ned had said to come back at night, but hadn’t given him a specific time. If he arrived too early…he didn’t want to know what Ned might do. He decided to time it so he’d get to the trailer at seven, spent the day trying to focus on some work he was behind on at the bank but he ended up chain smoking cigars and getting a little tipsy instead, and then got in the car and started the journey back to see what Ned had done with his son. He…felt a lot worse than he’d expected to. Sure, in this new life Ned had made for him, his son hated his guts–and he hated his son in good measure as well–he also could remember how close the two of them had been…before all of this had happened. He couldn’t take it back though, not now. He wondered what Ned might have done to him, searching his own memories, but everything seemed the same as before. Would he even know if Ned had changed him with the medallion? No one else had noticed when he’d been changed, so maybe everything he could remember was normal now.

He pulled up in front of the trailer, and walked up the steps; he could feel a minor rumble as the trailer shook, voices inside moaning. He knocked, and he heard Ned’s voice shout, “Git in here!” Inside, the lights were dim. Ned was on the bed, soaked with sweat, Shawn was in front of him, clutching the head of the bed as Ned hammered his cock deep into his hole. The entire trailer reeked of sweat, cum, and smoke. “I’m almost done bitch, git a cigar lit, sit down, and watch me plow yer boy’s hole. You like Master Ned plowin’ your hole, right boy?”

“F-Fuck, fuck yeah…” Shawn moaned, “Harder sir…”

“Boy loves it, just like his fucking father. You want another raw load in your boy hole?”

“Yes, please…”

“Alright boy, here it comes–” Ned said, fucked a few deep thrusts, and came with a load moan, slamming Shawn up against the side of the trailer. “Bitch, be a good pig. Clean out your boy’s hole, and suck a load from him–he’s been very good, and he deserves a reward.”

Gerard couldn’t resist the order, and as soon as Ned pulled out, he had his face pressed to his son’s hole, tongue buried deep, lapping his master’s fresh cum from the hole, then flipped Shawn over and swallowed his cock to the hilt, his boy moaning. Ned had a clear view of Shawn’s chest now, and saw no mark of the medallion, like on him. Ned hadn’t done anything to him yet, but why?

Ned got off the bed and slouched in a broken in armchair, watching the father suck down his first load from his boy’s cock, medallion swinging from his fingers. “I haven’t changed him yet, as you probably noticed. Been waitin’ for you. Just wanted to break him in a bit, for fun.”

He didn’t speak for a few minutes. Shawn was getting close, and he finally let loose with a long groan, Gerard swallowing everything down like a good pig, enjoying the taste of his son’s cum. It…it reminded him strangely of his own. He pulled away and wiped his bearded face, looking away from Shawn lying and sighing and panting on the bed, unable to believe what he’d just done, without even questioning it. Ned chuckled behind him, stood up, and walked over to him.

“Been thinking about it though, what I should do tah him. Tah ya both. Course, yer boy’s an ass, but he ain’t that much of an ass. ‘Sides, all he can think about now is gettin’ cum in his hole. Still, yer his father, I thought it should be up tah ya, what happens tah him.”

“What…what do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m givin’ ya a choice, bitch. Two options. First, I let yer boy go. He’ll love cock, sure, but he’ll still have this cushy life a his. You though, yer gonna have tah give up yer job, if you want yer son tah be happy. Give up yer past. That’s the trade–your cushy office job, that college education, all that money a yers–all that fer yer son’s future. But if all that matters more tah ya than him, ya can take option two. I won’t change you, but I will change yer boy–ya won’ even recognize him when we’re through with him. Gotta say, he’s got a great life ahead a him–the medallion tells me…things, ya see. Great man. Shame tah waste it, but it’s yer call, bitch.”

“I–I can’t, I mean…” Gerard lost his words.

“Thirty seconds. If ya don’t give me an answer, I’ll just change ya both.”

Gerard stared at his son. He…he couldn’t do that to him, could he? But his job, it was the last thing of his, the last place where…where he still felt like he could be something, where he could be the person he’d always thought he was.

“Ten seconds. Better hurry…”

Fuck, he was a fucking horrible person. “Two. Number two. I…I don’t care what you do to him, I need my job.”

Ned just stared at him, and shook his head.

“It’s–It’s all I have left. You’ve fucking taken everything else from me, you fucker!”

Ned shook his head, “Sorry boy, but yer father sure is a bastard, ain’t he?” Ned said, and climbed on top of Shawn’s prone body.

“Wait…sir, what are you talking about? I don’t–”

“Don’t worry, it’ll all be better soon,” Ned said, and pressed the medallion to Shawn’s breast, Gerard turning away from the blinding flash of light.

Requested by @andyreworld

WARNING: SCAT AHEAD


Kyle liked going to the gym in the mid-morning–everyone who got a workout in before work had left, and everyone who came around lunchtime wasn’t there yet–it gave him a good hour and half with most of the weights to himself, to focus on lifting. He’d sure been working out long enough to learn patterns like this, he’d been a gym rat for years, and maintained a near flawless physique–low body fat and ripped with muscle. Still, he wasn’t a far of people–especially fags–staring at his body, unless he wanted them staring, so he preferred off-hours. Usually he had peace, but, today, some fat fuck was crowding his space.

He’d seen him around the gym before, but Kyle didn’t usually care about what other people were doing, and if he wanted to work out, good for him. But it seemed like every time he turned around, the guy was within five feet of him, lifting something, or on the next machine over–and then the first one came, loud enough that Kyle could hear it over his music, a massive, horrific fart that lasted at least five seconds.

He looked over at the pig, disgusted, but the guy just leered back at him–and then Kyle smelt it–it was horrific, one of the worst things he’d ever smelt in his life. It was so strong that it was almost like his mind and body blew a fuse–he couldn’t move, he couldn’t think–his eyes went glassy, his jaw gaping as the pig got up, pulled the headphones from his head, leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Finally got you. Come on, you’re gonna spot me today.”

Kyle did as he was told, even though he fought the compulsion as best he could, but his body wasn’t his anymore. The smell lingered in his nose, and just as he’d start shaking the pig’s control off, the fat fuck would nearly shit his pants again, and he’d…lose it all over again. The pig kept talking to him while he lifted, telling Kyle how much he loved the smell of him, how much he loved his farts, how much he loved submitting. Soon, as much as he hated himself for it, he started craving it, the smell, the filthy thoughts his master whispered in his ear. Finally, he couldn’t resist it anymore–his master was doing squats, and let a huge fart loose, and something in Kyle broke. Snorting and grunting, he got down behind him, shoved his head to the man’s ass and started crewing at his shorts, cum spewing in his jockstrap.

“That’s a good pig–I think you’re ready for your post-workout meal, don’t you?”

Kyle didn’t know what he meant, but he crawled after his master, who went into the locker room, commandeered the large stall, and sat backwards, his hole right in Kyle’s face. He fought as hard as he could, hesitating, but a wet fart pulled him in, lips locked to his master’s hole, tongue burrowing in, ready and eager for his first feeding.

Ruining Mr. Fisher (Part 2)

He gagged, and nearly threw up at the vile taste of the janitor’s unwashed cock, as the man shoved it down his throat. What…what in the hell was he doing? He was straight! He’d never had a faggot thought in his life, and suddenly some strange, filthy janitor was in his office, with his crusty gut shoved against his face, cock down his throat? Gerard kept trying to will the rest of his body into action, but it was like the rest of his body had gone limp as soon as that medallion had started swinging in front of his face, like he was fucking hypnotized or something.

Ned laughed, enjoying the feeling of his victim’s throat gagging around his cock as he thrust deep, grinding the banker’s face into his pubes as his filthy hands ran through way through the man’s perfectly combed hair, over his head, down his neck and under his clothes, stripping back his coat, unbuttoning his crisp shirt and pulling it away from his body, and finally he gripped the man’s undershirt in both hands and ripped it apart, revealing the man’s smooth, waxed chest. “Alright Mr. Fisher, now we git tah the good part. I haven’t done this with anyone else yet, so we’ll be learning together, but I knew ya had tah be mah first.”

The medallion stopped swinging, and suddenly he felt the paralysis lift somewhat from his body. He yanked his face away from the man’s crotch, trying not to throw up, spitting on the carpet. “You disgusting–I’m going to sue you for what little shit you have in this world, and make sure you spend the rest of your life getting raped in prison.”

“Nah, I don’ think so,” Ned said, palming Mr. Fisher’s head in his hand and shoving him back, giving him a clear view of his chest, the other hand holding the medallion, “Let’s see what ya think ‘bout that in a second,” He he pressed the medallion to Gerard’s chest, over his heart.

The gold turned a searing white against his skin, and Gerard screamed, but the pain was as much mental as it was physical. It was like his entire life was suddenly before him, like a huge stone bridge behind him, well constructed and maintained the whole way across, until the entire landscape started shaking, like some massive earthquake. And he watched his life crumble away behind him, and there was nothing he could do. In a matter of moments, the bridge was still there but there were holes, broken cables, missing guardrails, and just as quickly as he’d seen it, it was over–he was in his chair, gasping for breath, clutching his chest. He looked down and found a dark red mark exactly where the medallion had been on his pec–or what had been a pec moments before.

He looked down at his body, and his perfect, gym toned body was no more–he was by no means fat–certainly not as large as Ned by any stretch of the imagination, but he had a flabby gut which showed the fact that he spent his time in an office, coated with a thick layer of hair. He’d…he’d always hated how much body hair he had, and he’d waxed it for years…hadn’t he? But now…now he couldn’t remember doing any of that. He’d thought about it, sure, but it had seemed like so much effort. Same with his hair, which was balding a bit and turning grey. He could fix it up, he supposed, but that would just take so much energy…He got up from his chair and went to the mirror hanging in his office, looking at his pudgy, sloppy self, his messy hair, his stubble coated face, his gut, and he was disgusted with himself, and yet…and yet he…he liked that disgust. His cock was getting hard, why in the fuck was this turning him on?

“A good first step,” Ned said, “We’ll go down further later, but for now, why don’t you get down and finish what you’d started, bitch.”

He fought–but his body simply obeyed. He got down on his knees and went back to sucking the janitor’s cock–and it was still disgusting, but now…now he kind of liked it. He liked the idea that he was debasing himself like this. This filthy slob–this fat failure of a man–it was, suddenly, everything Gerard had imagined, some deep fantasy that had been locked away inside him, but suddenly it was out, and he…he liked it. He liked serving this man, and he happily sucked at the man’s cock, hauling his own dick free from his now ill-fitting suit pants and started jacking off–realizing only after it had started that he’d sprayed a load of cum across the carpet of his office.

“You fucker–you don’t get to fucking cum without my fucking permission!” Ned growled, the medallion in his hand, “You wanna see what this fucking thing can do to you? You want a reason to get this carpet filthy?”

Ned pressed the medallion to the mark over Gerard’s heart, and it was like it…sunk into his body, like a gear into some strange machine of his body. The heat was there again, but now…now it didn’t burn, now it was almost…pleasant, feeling the heat scorch away bits and pieces of his life, forgetting some things and remembering others. Ned pulled the medallion back, and Gerard redoubled his efforts, suddenly remembering all of the hundreds of cocks he’d sucked in glory holes behind his wife’s back all these years, hungry for cum more than anything else, his gut ballooning in size yet again. Ned finally came down his throat, and as soon as he’d finished, Gerard got down and started eating his own cum from the floor–and Ned laughed, and excused himself–reminding Gerard to keep on working late every night, so they could keep having these nice meetings.

Story Requested by @alexstrider008


Jimmy had gone to the club that night, dressed in some of his sluttier best–all spandex and rubber, stretched tight over his lithe, muscular body, blonde highlights spiked up just so, looking like every other twink there–but then again, that was the point of being a twink, right? Looking like everyone else? He felt like he belonged with them all, out on the dance floor, their muscular bodies pressed together…but tonight he found himself talking to someone different.

The man didn’t look like he belonged in this kind of club–not wearing that much leather, and certainly not with that big gut hanging over his waistband. Jimmy and a few of his friends had been pointing and laughing at him all evening, secretly hoping the fat leather fuck would get the hint, finish his beer, and leave. But…somehow (he couldn’t quite remember now, and in fact, everything was becoming oddly foggy) he had ended up next to the man in the booth, having a conversation with him. The rest of the twinks were scandalized, of course–no so much as he was, when he found himself getting up after the man and…following him out of the bar.

They ended up going into a small house, and immediately down into the basement where the stranger stripped Jimmy of his spandex, shoved him up against a wooden cross and secured his ankles and wrists to the four boards. Next, a blindfold, and then the man shoved something in his mouth–a thick tube which was narrow at first, and then widened to the point that it stretched his jaw, and pushed down his throat–making it difficult to breathe except through his nose. “That’s good, such good boy,” The man said, “Gonna get you good and big, just you wait.”

There was the sound of a pump, and then he felt something oozing through the tube, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it–he could feel some strange sludge sliding it’s way down his esophagus and right into his stomach. For a few minutes it was fine, then he felt the first pangs of discomfort, his stomach swelling–but it didn’t stop. All he could do was moan and whimper for hours, while the man went about his work. First, he heard the sound of an electric razor as his perfect hair was shorn from his head. Then, the man began toying with him–clamping his nipples and cock, edging him, filling his hole with dildos–each larger than the next.

He felt so full, but…other things too. An exhaustion crept into his body, and it was like he could feel his muscles…dissolving. Turning to jelly in him. The fog coating his mind grew thicker, and he found himself craving this feeling of fullness, craving abuse from this man, this…this master. He was happy, he could hear him, could feel him groping his…his gut. He had a gut, he could feel it hanging off him where he was bound. 

At long last, the pump ceased. His stomach ached, but already rumbled, needing more. The man hauled the tube free of his mouth, unhooked Jimmy’s wrists and ankles, and he immediately fell to his knees, hands behind his back, awaiting a command. He couldn’t see, but it was a brand new morning, as his master fucked his throat, before hooking him up for a second, even larger, feeding.

Sketch – Mutual Friends (Part 2)

Warning: Gets a bit scummy–felching, slob, light scat.


Fuck, I don’t know where to begin. I don’t…is this even me? Am I even me anymore? I mean, sure, I enjoyed it, I…I wanted all of it, but maybe, maybe the best thing I can do is get it down, get it out of my head.

Gus wanted me to come over for a long weekend, with Sam. He said that Sam needed some special sessions, and that he’d have more fun if I was there too, along with him, helping Gus out with some things. I tried to say no, when he offered, but fuck, he wore me down quick. It was…he has more power over me, I don’t know how else to say it. At first, I mean, that stink, sure, when I was near it, there was nothing I could do, but away from him I felt like I had more autonomy, but the longer I’m with him, the more often we’re together, it’s harder and harder for me to think, harder for me to not do what Gus suggests. Fuck, even taking showers is getting hard, I don’t like them like I used to, I always feel…violated by how clean I feel when I get out, There’s just nothing quite like how sweaty and dirty and musky you are after a good long day at work, you know? When all you want to do is lounge around, lick out your own nasty pits, suck on your socks, and jack off six, seven times in a row. That’s what I do now. That’s what I want to do now, I can’t deny it, but it was Gus–I know he’s making me do this, making me think these things, making me into…into someone else.

This weekend, I was scared, sure. I was nervous. I was on guard as best I could be, for what Gus might try to get me to do. Sam and I finished work and I drove him over, Sam’s face buried in my armpit as I drove, like usual for us now. We got to the apartment, and for the first time ever, Gus’ musk and stench wasn’t the most powerful aroma in the room. Gus, apparently, had been cooking, and cooking a lot. Every piece of real estate in the already filthy kitchen was covered with food, and Gus told me to sit Sam down in the chair at the table and then had me bind him to the frame using the rope he’d left out, and I did as was told. Sam was excited–drooling from his mouth and his cock at the same time, begging for food…and I didn’t know what to make of it. I’d noticed Sam gaining weight lately, but I hadn’t thought much of it, really–because I didn’t want to think about it. My job, I thought, was to keep Sam in check at work–nothing less or more, but I could already tell that this weekend was going to result in a promotion of sorts.

I got him all bound up–including Sam’s hands to the arms of the chair–and Gus told me I could go ahead and get started. I didn’t know what he meant. So Gus, like talking to a child, told me to start feeding the pig. That was…when I tried to object. It didn’t work, of course–Gus came over, and got me all…horny, and soon I was shoving food in Sam’s face, and I was…it was hot, actually. Seeing him scarfing food down, unable to stop, even as his gut started bulging, and I…well, Gus kept encouraging me too. I fed the pig for hours, and eventually Gus stopped me. Sam was so full all he could do was moan. He’d shot his load a couple of times, and I hadn’t even touched his cock once. I was covered with food, and Gus got me out of my clothes, and told me we needed to go out and get dessert.

I thought we were going to the store. No–Gus forced me into some leather gear of his that kind of fit me, and we drove downtown to a sleazy leather bar and…

I don’t know how many it was.

My ass was free for any man who wanted it, and Gus…well, Gus made sure a lot of men wanted it. It hurt–I’d never been fucked before, and after each guy came inside of me, if there was no one right after them, Gus would plug me up with a small, wide dildo, keeping their seed inside me. I…I think a couple of guys even pissed in me. My gut hurt so much–I nearly cried on the ride home, but Gus just told me to be strong, that it was important I not lose Sam’s dessert. We got back, and tipped Sam back, I straddled him so he could lock lips with my hole, and I kept feeding him, and I was so disgusted with myself, but Sam ate all of it, and Gus…fuck, Gus made me like it, I shouldn’t be hard, thinking about that again, but here I am, sniffing my pits and stroking off thinking about that nasty pig sucking all that filth from my hole…

I did it again, the next night. And I was excited that time. I…I suggested it. Gus didn’t have to say anything, I did the work–begging men for their loads in my ass, and this time, the fuller my guts got, the…the sexier I felt, the harder my cock got, the more I looked forward to getting home so I could feed this filth to that nasty pig. The next day, it felt…wrong, not having anything in my hole. Gus fucked me over and over. I…I told him I’d just get started on dessert myself, and left Gus to feed Sam so I could find even more men to fill me up good, yeah, fuck, I…I thought this would help, it’s not helping. I…I miss it. I’ve tried to resist, I didn’t want to go out, but I gotta. I gotta feel it again, and I can’t feed the pig, but maybe…I mean, Gus was telling me how good it tastes, made me…made me clean the pig’s nasty face yesterday while he fucked me good…I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t but I want to. I need to. Fuck. Fuck it, fuck, I gotta get fucked, I don’t–forget it. At least he let me keep the leather gear, right? Just once, just to get it out of my system, and I’ll be good. I can control myself, right?

Sketch – Mutual Friends (Part 1)

He hadn’t been on the crew for very long at that point–to be honest, most of the other guys kind of hated him. Not because of anything he’d done, really–it’s just that the job was on a tight schedule and Sam had no fucking idea how to do anything, which meant that when he wasn’t slowing us down, we were stopping work just to teach him how to lay fucking asphalt. After a few days, he ended up flagging, which was better to be honest all around. Still, I could remember what it was like to be that green, and holding up projects. Some of the guys were outright cold, refused to even talk to him; the least I could do was a hello and some small talk, right?

Then the guy goes and thinks we’re fucking friends. I should have seen it coming. Out of the damn blue he invites me over to his place to watch the game with his roommate, and I didn’t have a damn interest in going, so I declined. Me and some of the other guys had planned on going to a strip joint, not that I told him, because heaven forbid he decided to tag along, right? Still, the invitations just wouldn’t fucking stop, after that, and a guy can only keep up with the damn excuses for so long. Still, he didn’t seem like a bad guy. I hadn’t exactly learned much about him, not that I cared, but he seemed…not just green, but…well, this work just didn’t seem like something he was used to. Sure, he was greasy and dirty like the rest of us, but he had no callouses on his hands, no tan, no work muscle–guy was kind of a ball of chub, if you know what I mean. Maybe he’d been laid off or something, I didn’t know, I didn’t want to listen to a sob story for sure. But on a night when I was feeling a bit down myself and thought the company couldn’t hurt, I finally took him up on his offer. He was bussing to work, but I had my truck, so I offered to drive him home and hang out for a bit with him and his “roommate.”

He lived in a shitty apartment in a shittier complex. He shoved open the door, and the whole place was a fucking sty–don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t exactly neat and tidy, but that place made me cringe. And fuck, it stank! Not just musky, not just stale–it stank. Still, I couldn’t really beg off now–I took a beer from him, he cleared off the couch and we sat down and started watching the game that was on, chatting a bit. His roommate was out–”probably buying beer or something,” Sam told me–but he seemed…anxious. Kept looking his phone and checking the time. I’d probably been there half an hour, and was trying to figure out a way to ditch somewhat gracefully, when the door swung open, and Sam’s roommate came in, with a twenty-four pack of beer under his arm. The guy was as messy as the apartment. The thing I remember most–his white t-shirt, those fucking pits of his were stained brown–I could see it across the room. The guy said hi, dropped the beer on the table in front of us, and immediately shoved himself in between us on the couch, throwing his arms around us both, and fuck! The stench rolling off those fuckin’ pits!

My eyes were watering, I started gagging, but I was paralyzed. My body…it wouldn’t move, even as it tried to keep the odor out of my lungs. On the other side of him, all I could hear was this strange slurping and groaning–I managed to roll my head far enough to see what was going on, and Sam had his face shoved in his roommate’s armpit, and was licking and sucking at it, hungry as could be, and the guy was…was encouraging him. Then he turned to me.

“So, you must be that buddy of Sam’s from work–he’s been trying to coax you over for weeks now! Good to meet you. Dale, right? My name’s Gus. Gotta say Sam, ya picked a good one.”

“Thanks Gus, I…I thought he’d be perfect.”

“Fuck yeah, he’s a beauty. Good muscles–I love the tattoos,” Gus ran his hand up under my shirt, where I was spasming on the couch, trying to understand what was happening to me. “Nice fuckin’ bulge too. Sam, get over here and show our guest some manners, get that cock out and start suckin’ on him like a good pig.”

“Fuck yeah, sure thing Gus! I’ve wanted his cock since the first day I saw him,” Sam said, got off the couch and in between my legs, hauled out my cock and started licking at my cock and balls, still sweaty from a day in the summer heat.

I tried to pull away, but Gus grabbed my head and pulled it back, right into the crook of his pit, pushing his face close, his breath as foul as his pits. “Now, now, don’t fight it, that’ll only make it hurt, or I’ll have to go to some extreme measures. Just inhale, Dale, and everything will be fine. You’ll get used to it, I promise. Fuck, look at Sam down there–just two months ago he came here looking for a room to rest, some fancy fucker in a suit with a job at a tech company but and now look at him. Still, I need someone to keep an eye on him during the day, and that somebody’s gonna be you. Help me out and do as I say, and everything will be just fine–you’ll get to use this pig’s holes as much as you want. Now take a deep breath, and relax…”

I…I don’t really remember what happened after that big breath I took. Gus…said a lot of things. A lot of things that made…a lot of sense, even though I can’t recall them right now. I ended up staying that first night, and by morning…it just made sense to help Gus out with his pig, you know? Keep him in line at work, help him out, make sure his holes are well worked and loose throughout the day. And everyday, I give Sam a ride home from the worksite…and Gus is there…and I get to smell him. I get to smell Gus while I fuck that pig’s brains out, and…and I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself, and it’s only getting worse. That, and Gus…Gus has been giving me these weird looks, these hungry looks. Talking about…about me the way he talks about Sam, sometimes, when he talks about…about what’s gonna happen to the pig. I’m staying with them both for a long weekend, and I wish I could say no…but I have a sinking, stinking feeling there’s not much I’d say no to, if Gus’ filthy body is involved.