TPC – Chapter 1.11

Chapter 11 – Shadow’s Den

Whether it was morning or night now, Marlon didn’t know. One moment, he’d been on the sidewalk with Jimmy, talking about the streetlights or the shadows or something, and the next, he’d stepped into the dark and everything had disappeared around him–and now he was here. It wasn’t that he was falling, or at least, it didn’t feel like falling. There was nothing to fall relative to, so he could have just as easily been floating. He called out to Jimmy, but his voice wouldn’t cut through the vacuum. After some amount of time, it was difficult to say whether it was minutes or seconds, a figure had appeared in the dark with him. It was the man who had stepped from the shadows, before he’d fallen in. He called out to him, asking him for help. The man came close, and perspectives shifted. He became larger, and swaddled Marlon somehow, there in the dark. Cupped him in the darkness itself, and he felt it crush against him, even though there was nothing there. It was like drowning, like he was seven in his cousin’s pool again when hadn’t quite mastered swimming enough for the deep end. He was certain he should have died, at some point. Perhaps, he told himself, he had. But the darkness ebbed away, or pulled back from him, replaced with a deep red light.

There was space again. The colored light was disorienting, but he could make out that he was in what looked like a basement, or at least, a room with no windows–or doors, he realized after that. The floor was concrete, and the walls were adorned with what he could only really describe as a dungeon, though he’d never been one for fetish porn on the internet. He himself, he realized, was in a cage–thick metal bars, not tall enough for him to stand up inside. There was a sound behind him, and he managed to twist around. There on the wall were two figures hanging from a pair of wooden crosses, their limbs in steel manacles and pulled tight. Their faces were hooded, they were naked, and Marlon realized that he was naked as well. There were no clothes anywhere that he could see in the room. 

He was aware of the darkness in the room somehow solidifying, and the man from the street stepped out of what should have been a wall, just appeared with no way to explain how. Marlon scrambled back, banged his head on the metal of the cage, his vision bursting with stars. The man chuckled, strode over to the cage in the middle of the room, and squatted down. “A shame, the two of you would have been fun together, but this will be just as nice, and more filling.”

“Who…who are you? Let me out of here, please, I’m not into this shit!”

“You’re not?” the man said, pushing his face closer to the bars. The light in the room was strong enough that Marlon knew he should have been able to see the stranger’s face through the shadow of his cap, but it was made of the same inky darkness that had surrounded him before. “How do you know, little one? Have you ever tried any of it? Did you ever ask your shadow what he might like to try?” his mouth gave a little smile, “I asked him for you, by the way. He was more than a little curious.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Later, little one. I’m famished.”

“Wait! Don’t leave me here.”

“I’m not going anywhere little one, I have my meal right here,” he said, and walked over to where the two figures were strung up against the wall. The man made a little motion with his hands, and the hoods that were covering the faces of the prisoners melted away–Marlon realized that what he’d thought had been leather had been more shadow. A moment later, one of them gasped, his eyes opening wide, followed by the other, looking around, before staring at the leatherman in front of them. “You–you’re not a puppet, you’re Shadow! But you’re in the fucking jail, how did you get out?”

“Oh, it was harder than I thought it would be, I’ll admit that. Almost gave up a time or two, but why give up when I had such good reason to get out again, and see all you officers of the law again, after where you put me?” he said, gripping their faces with his hands. “One thing is for sure though, I am absolutely starving.”

Their eyes went wide. “No! Wait, we…we’ll get you the commander, that’s who you really want, right?” one said, “Please, Shadow, don’t!”

Marlon watched what happened next, from just a few feet away, and when it was done, he still couldn’t convince himself that he hadn’t dreamt it. Shadow, or at least, that’s what he assumed was the leatherman’s name, pulled one hand away from a face, and his fingers started to wriggle, and then extend. The way they slid across the man’s face, they were somehow flat, and yet retained all of their texture, then divided into even more tendrils, and began to dig their way into his nose, his mouth, his eyes, his ears. The man choked and shuddered as Shadow did his work, thrusting in deeper into the man’s mind, and then there was light–or a kind of light. It pumped it’s way backwards, drawn from the man down the tendrils of shadow and into Shadow’s arm, and when it reached his body, he gave a contented sigh. “Oh yes, quite delectable.”

After a few minutes of pulling whatever that light was from the man, he retracted the tendrils and the man’s face sagged forward. The last thing Marlon saw was the man’s eyes, which were now hollow sockets, as it dropped. He wondered if he was dead, but when Shadow unhooked the man’s manacles and the body slumped to the floor, he could see that he was still breathing, though it was shallow. His face had landed facing him, and Marlon stared into the hollowness, but the eyes were still there. They were just pitch black. Then the man’s own shadow rose up from the floor, spreading up around him, drawing his body in and holding it in something that looked like a cocoon. As soon as it was sealed, it shuddered and there was a scream from within–muffled, but obvious. The other man was shaking and pleading, but Shadow did the same to him, and when he was finished with his meal, there were two blobs of shadow there on the floor of the dungeon, quivering occasionally, mumbling and shouting and yelling. He drew down some darkness from the ceiling, strung the two cocoons up and left them to hang, while he turned his attention to Marlon again.

He was pressed up against the bars of the cage, trying to reach something that he could use to fight back, but there was nothing near him. Shadow squatted down in front of the cage again. “Much better, little one–now where were we?”

“What did you do to them?”

“I ate some of them, and left the rest of them for their own shadows. They’ll be ready in a while. You don’t need to worry about that just yet.”

“Are…you gonna eat me?”

“I don’t know, are you delicious?” Shadow said, and Marlon gulped. After letting the silence hang for a moment, Shadow laughed, “No, I don’t think I’ll be eating you. I already promised your shadow that we’d play for a while.”

“What do you mean?”

Marlon felt something come unstuck from him, something he didn’t even know could come away, and there, standing outside the cage, was a silhouette. His silhouette. He looked down, and underneath him where no light should have been, his shadow had simply disappeared–or rather, left him somehow. Shadow stood up, and embraced Marlon’s shadow, pulled it close, and he felt the embrace there in the cage, and shuddered, felt Shadow’s tongue press into his silhouette’s mouth. 

“Oh yes, I do like you, very much. I think I will keep you,” Shadow said, “You don’t mind, do you?”

Marlon objected, but realized that Shadow had not been talking to him–he had been addressing his silhouette, who nodded vigorously, and then looked to Marlon there in the cage.

“Don’t worry about that–come now, I want to play, little darkness. Here, taste this,” Shadow said, put a finger to the silhouette’s lips and a bit of the light that had come from the two men before slid into it–and Marlon watched as his shadow shuddered, and popped. For a moment, it had definition, depth, presence. And when it had, Marlon gasped, and felt a moment of weakness wash through him. 

“See? Doesn’t that taste good? He’ll never be able to give you that, but I can. I can give you so much. All you have to do is let me guide you. There’s so much I can show you–pleasure, pain, power. Isn’t that what you want?”

Marlon’s silhouette nodded, and Shadow embraced it again, then bent it over a bench, and fucked it–and Marlon, there in the cage, felt every thrust–but he felt something else too. Delight. Ecstasy. They weren’t his feelings though. It was his silhouette thinking and feeling all on its own, and realizing it was thinking and feeling on its own, and delighting in the sensation of the world around it. Marlon begged, when they finished. Begged Shadow to let him go, but Shadow never addressed him again, directly. He was no longer important. In the darkness, shades ruled, and Shadow ruled the shades of Pigtown–and Shadow was back at last.

Want more Pigtown Chronicles? Support me over on my Patreon, and you can get early access to new chapters, along with loads of other content!

Early Access: The Christmas Imp’s Secret Santas #1

I have a series of Christmas vignettes that I’m working on this month! I don’t know how many I will get done–the goal is always twelve with these sorts of things, but you know, we’ll see how things go. All of these are based on Patron suggestions, and as such, they’ll get access to them all first! If you’re a patron at the $5 level or more, you can find the full version of this story here. They’ll all start to go public after Christmas for everyone else. In the meantime, have a teaser…

Jesse went into the apartment’s living room on Christmas morning, not really expecting much. He lived alone, and hadn’t really had the time this month to decorate anything. He hadn’t even bothered to go get a tree or anything either. He had a few presents on his table from some college friends and family members around the country who had sent him things at least, but that could wait until after his morning coffee.

But as the pot brewed, and he inspected the small pile, something stood out that he didn’t recognize at all. It was a very small present, wrapped in simple brown paper, and the tag on it didn’t have a name–all it said was that it was from his Secret Santa. His office had already done a secret santa this year though, and he had the socks to prove it. While the coffee finished brewing, he figured he might as well solve this mystery quick–he tore into the paper, and was left with a can of chewing tobacco sitting in his hand.

He just looked at it in confusion. Who in their right mind would have given him this? He didn’t even smoke, much less use chewing tobacco, the entire idea was vile to him. But as he was about to put it down, there was a puff of smoke in the middle of the room, and a strange creature appeared before him. Jesse had no idea what he was looking at–the creature was quite short, no more than three feet tall, and covered in green fur from head to toe. The thing was naked as well, with a stubby cock leaking green tinted precum on the floor of his living room, the beast grinning at him, baring all of it’s sharp teeth in the process.

This was the Christmas Imp. A rather fateful mistake by Santa Claus when he tried to use genetic engineering to make a more perfect elf, he instead ended up with a rather filthy minded monster–one Santa had managed to keep looked away for quite a few years now. However, the imp had escaped in the midst of a rather hectic year at the North Pole, and was now ready to fulfill a few Christmas wishes of his own, though his ideas tended to be a bit…filthier than was traditional for Christmas. “Go on boy,” the imp rasped, one clawed hand toying with his cock, “It’s a special can that Daddy made just for you…”

Jesse wanted to run–he wanted to do pretty much anything other than twist off the top of the can of tobacco and look inside. He didn’t know what chewing tobacco was supposed to look like, but he was pretty sure that the scummy, pasty goo on top of the leaf wasn’t supposed to be there. What in the hell was it? He tried to pry his gaze away from the imp, but he couldn’t. His fingers pushed their way into the gooey leaf, and as he did, he realized what the substance was–it was cum. Someone had cum on top of the leaf, and closed the lid again. It made his stomach turn in disgust, but he couldn’t stop himself as he put the cummy leaf in his mouth, between his teeth and lip.

“More, you need it all, Daddy made it special…” the imp rasped at him…

If you want to read more, and see the other entries as I finish them, support me on Patreon at the $5 level or more!

Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 7)

“You really are quite handsome you know, it’s a shame I can’t take you with me,” the imp said as he fucked Ken’s hole in the dark room, “but someone is going to have to stay here and take my place with all of these freaks. You won’t mind that though, will you?”

“No Sir!” Ken cried, “Just…just please, don’t stop fucking me, please…”

“Yes, that is a good idea, I would like a memento of some sort, after all. I wasn’t quite sure what, but I think I know exactly what I’d like to take with me.”

The imp pulled himself free of Ken’s hole, making the man gasp in need. He pulled something new out, a little bottle of something like lube, and started squirting it all over Ken’s body. “Rub that in for me, my little slave. This will help you be a bit more…flexible, and I don’t want to touch it myself.”

Ken did as he was commanded, and rubbed the strange substance all over his body–down to his feet and his toes, massaged it into his cock, all over his head and hair, even fingering himself with it, and coating the inside of his mouth–being sure to swallow a little too. It felt…gummy and rubbery at first, almost like a thick silicone lube, but it absorbed into his body, and after it did, his skin felt…strange. Hot for a moment, but then…well, he didn’t quite know how to describe the sensation at all. 

When the imp was sure it was dry, he decided to give it a test–he reached around the base of Ken’s cock and balls with his fingers, and started tightening them into a ring. It didn’t…hurt, really, but it was oddly uncomfortable. Ken could see his entire cock and balls pulling free of his body, just a strand of flesh connecting them–and then they came away in the imp’s hands. Ken could somehow still…feel them, which was even more disconcerting, as the imp turned his cock and balls over, gave his shaft a stroke, making Ken shudder in confusion. “Hmmm…I think I need one more thing though, if I’m going to keep fucking you. Roll over Slave.”

Ken did, one hand going to his now nullified crotch, confused by the smooth, rubbery skin there instead, wondering what exactly his Master was going to do to him now. The imp did the same thing around Ken’s asshole, pulling it off of his body entirely, and sticking it to the root of Ken’s cock and balls–then, while Ken rolled back over, the imp slid his cock into Ken’s rubbery hole, and he moaned in delight. He could feel the imp’s cock sliding deep into not just his ass, but inside his cock as well–it was…fuck, he’d never felt anything like it before in his life.

“There, that’s a nice gift for me, Slave. When I’m living your life for you, I’ll be sure to use your hole and cock often, to make sure you know I’m thinking about you in here. For now though, why don’t we make you fit in with this monstrous place a little more?” the imp cackled, and started working Ken’s body under his hands, pulling and twisting and stealing and stretching him into all sorts of new shapes, until he found one he liked most.

Ken’s head was forced into his body entirely, his arms twisted and warped until they were another set of arms and feet like the others. He could now only walk around on all fours–though slowly, because both sets of feet were pointed away from each other. Where his head had been, was now his mouth–his teeth pulled out like little rubber plugs, and his tongue grown to insane proportions. It hung from his gaping mouth now almost a foot, and was fully prehensile–and covered with drool.

For his other end, the imp had to improvise, and built a second hole out of his nose–two gaping, hairy cavities perfect for fucking–or whatever else the strange beasts of this place would use him for. The imp shifted one eye to each end, so he could mostly see where he was going–and then added an ample supply of hair all over his new form, making him look more like some hairy beast than the man he once was. Ken wanted to thank his master, but could no longer speak–so he ate out the imp’s hole with his long tongue while his Master fucked his new toy, making Ken shudder and grunt until his cock sprayed cum all over the floor–but then, it was time for the imp to leave.

Ken still wanders the halls, though he no longer has a name. He’s just another freak among many, always looking for bodies to service, relishing those moments when he feels the imp’s hands around his cock, his cock sliding into his hole–happy that he can still be of service to his Master.

An End

Alright, that one was a bit shorter, so we have time for one more! Here’s some options on spots to restart from, some are the same as last time, some are different! Here’s the bonus poll for Patrons too.

Interactive: Summer Internship (Part 3)

What 86-X9 didn’t know, was that the amount of radiation he had just bombarded Todd with far exceded the usual dosage given to the embryos in the study. Enough that, by the time Todd was forced into the temporal chamber, he was already starting to feel a bit sick, like something inside him had changed, but he had no idea what, or even how to describe the sensation. He only had a moment to think about it, however, before 86-X9 flipped the switch, and time started going faster.

Inside the chamber, one year progressed at a rate of around 10 seconds. Twenty years could pass in just a little over three minutes–but for the first chunk of time, not much happened–Todd could feel the cells of his body screaming–not only from their new mutations, but also from the sudden acceleration of their own life cycle. He fell to the ground, clutching himself, curled up–and 86-X9 noticed too late that the first change was beginning to manifest. Todd was growing.

It wasn’t a neat or organized growth–more like every part of his body was suddenly obsessed with becoming thicker. His fat and muscle tissues began to reproduce even faster, his body becoming more and more blob like, bones snapping and then being eaten up by the rest of his tissues, trying to do anything to keep growing as large as he could. In a minute, Todd no longer even had a human silhouette–he was just a towering blob of human flesh, easily nine feet tall, his arms and legs no longer recognizable among the other fatty limbs and cysts his out of control cells had just produced. But something else was happening now, as the mass replication slowed down. The new cells began to reorder themselves, changing and adapting to their new positions, and the cysts and limbs began to lengthen into long tentacles, all of them tipped with a fleshy head, leaking a viscous slime onto the floor. That same slime was leaking from new pores erupting all over Todd’s body, coating him in it, sliding onto the floor around him. New mouths and eyes opened up all over the body’s mass as well. The mouths had no teeth, but instead massive, gripping tongues large enough to wrap around a man and drag him into it’s flesh depths–but that wasn’t what this thing wanted. It wasn’t hungry, it was…horny–or at least, that was the last thought Todd had before his mind was fragmented apart by the new mutated creature that had grown from his body.

The field died, and 86-X9 just stared at the mass of flesh in the room, horrified at what had just happened. Still, while…extreme, it was good enough for his plan–even better, since nothing about it was even recognizable as Todd any more. He stepped into the chamber, and realized too late that the thing no longer had enough of a mind for him to try and control–and then the beast was upon him, tentacles wrapped around his arms and legs, his last act sealing the door of the chamber before the thing could escape.

He smelled something…burning, and saw that the slime was eating away his clothes–and began to fear it would eat him away as well, but when the slime touched him, instead all he felt was a cooling tingle–and he relaxed. It felt like his whole body just turned off, and the thing wrapped him tighter, feeling him, testing his holes, before sliding one tentacle down into 86-X9’s guts from his mouth, another one sliding into his ass, and the slime leaking from them began to inflate 86-X9’s body, bloating it full of it’s fluid, and when it was nearly bursting, it set him down in a corner, slime drooling from 86-X9’s ruined mouth and ass, his eyes dead, but clearly something was still alive, because his body would occasionally twitch and lurch.

When the scientists returned the next morning, they were horrified. There, in the temporal chamber, was a beast the likes of which they had never seen, casing the perimeter, obviously looking for a way out, but too simple to find one. In the corner of the room was something still recognizable as human, but the fluid was eating away it’s bones, and beginning the same rapid replication as before, growing large cysts, it’s body already doubled in size overnight.

The project was officially closed, and a new one begun to study these strange creatures under tighter controls, and the interns on the project were sent back to the bunks, traumatized and horrified at what they’d seen, not even realizing that they were missing one of their own too. One of them, Jimmy, was assigned to a new project that very afternoon, but what was it working on?

Here’s the next poll! The bonus patreon poll is over here.

Choose Up To Three!

Caption: Down in the Valley

Backpacking is one of the few escapes that Marcus felt he could still rely on, in a world that felt like he was constantly connected to everything, whether he wanted to be or not. More than once, he had fantasized about leaving it all, finding some cabin in the wilderness, abandoning wifi and phones and data and electricity and everything else altogether. Maybe he’d be able to shake this anxiety and depression, maybe he’d feel connected to something that wasn’t a constant maelstrom of terror and death and impending doom. So he would take a couple weeks off in the summer, and do his best to disappear, trails or no trails, just…escaping. Just him, and nature, alone–except on this trip, he was beginning to suspect that he wasn’t particularly alone.

The trip had started off normal enough, on familiar territory. He decided to go off in a new direction, towards a rather secluded valley in the midst of the forest, and as he descended into it, he began to get the sensation that he was being watched. This in and of itself was not too uncommon–after all, just because there were no people, did not mean that he was in fact alone–he saw all sorts of wildlife during his trips, but largely had never had a problem with them, so long as he minded his food habits properly. However, this sense was something else entirely, and when he camped for the day, the sensation didn’t disappear like it usually did, but he saw no sign of anything, so he figured he was as safe as he could be.

It was when he went down to the river to refill his water, that he saw him, there in the brush.

Handsome did not really begin to describe him. Marcus was stricken with something more than lust, it was…compulsive. Animalistic. He dropped his pack without another thought, and walked towards the strange, eyeing him over his shoulder, and the man walked away, and Marcus followed. After a quarter mile, the man led Marcus to a cave, and pulled him inside, and in the dark…Marcus felt that something was wrong. Feeling the man, his cock, his body–it didn’t seem to match what he’d seen outside of the cave. There were too many limbs, and they were too thin, the skin wasn’t hairy, but smooth, and seemed to stick to him, if he didn’t pull away fast enough. His rational mind tried to rebel, but the desire overwhelmed him anyway, pulled him into the stink of him, the heady scent of musk, with a strange pang of carrion and rot all around it. The man, the thing, forced Marcus onto the floor of the cave and fucked him deep–deeper than a cock should have been able to go, seeded him hard, hard enough he could feel his gut expand, and them wrapped Marcus in his arms, and held him there, sticky and sweaty in the dark, deep, inhuman rattling breaths in his ear, long tongue wrapping around his neck, sharp teeth at an ear.

He tried to squirm away, but the thing would nip him–not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to draw blood. He held still instead, unsure of what to do, watching the dim light from the entrance to the cave dim as night came, unsure if the squirming in his guts was hunger, thirst…or perhaps something else entirely.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 8 (Part 2)

I went down into the basement, and the three of them followed me. Cumster was there, still bound on his knees, but it was clear that what I had fed him earlier was having an affect. HE looked ill. He looked inhuman, already, in fact, but he raised his head when I came down the stairs, and the eagerness I saw when he saw me–he knew. He understood that what I was giving him, the law, was a death, sure, but it was so much more than that. He could feel the power beyond this world’s laws that was waiting for him, and he craved it, as Cumster had craved everything in his life. Marcus, also still bound in the basement, was is a different state altogether. The terror had ebbed, but it was clear that all of this had moved well beyond the extent of his imagination. Where had he thought this would end? I don’t know–perhaps with him at the feat of the rapist, begging for a second chance, begging for truth he couldn’t understand or sustain. There was also jealousy. Jealousy that I had fed Cumster something which was clearly changing him…but which I hadn’t given to Marcus. The jealousy had grown, and eclipsed the fear at this point–he was realizing that if he couldn’t get what he wanted from the rapist, perhaps I could provide it. I couldn’t, but I freed him as best I could.

Cumster was aching for me, and without any real explanation, I let my cock slide from my sheath, and pressed it to Cumster’s lips, watching him suck it down as quickly as he could, swallowing the cum that began to flow immediately, that cold, chilly death filling his guts again, but so much more than that as well. The bonds were no longer necessary, and so I allowed them to fall away, giving everyone a clearer look at his warping and shifting body. He was growing fatter, but not fat in the same, soft way as the men had in the warehouse earlier. Cumster’s gut expanded, but grew firm, his flesh losing it’s color until it was more grey than pink, the same washed out color as cum, really–it even picked up a bit of translucence. The pores in his skin turned on, and a sheen of something appeared all over his body–and when the smell hit everyone, they realized it was cum.

Cumster would no longer sweat–not as a human did, at least. He would sweat cum continuously, always coated in a slimy layer of his own semen, dripping off him as he knelt, a continuous, but weak, orgasm coursing through him constantly. It was no longer blood pumping through him, but cum. Everything inside him, everything that could become it, was just semen–it was what he was meant to be, he realized this now, and he would have to keep himself supplied with a near constant amount from now on. The hair on his body thinned out, falling away from the top his head, his beard growing wiry, looking more like pubes than anything else. Still, it was finished–I retracted my cock from his gullet, and watched him lick his lips with a long, narrow tongue, his pale eyes gleaming up at me–and I turned towards Marcus, undoing enough of his bonds that his cock was free–as well as the sizable balls Cumster had given him earlier.

Making a gurgling noise I supposed was speech of a kind, Cumster sagged his way over to him, his movements more like those of a half filled water balloon than anything human,and attached himself to Marcus’ cock–and began to suck. Marcus groaned in pleasure as the first orgasm ripped through him, but it wasn’t long before he realized something was wrong. Marcus could…feel Cumster’s will trying to shape him, but Marcus’ body wasn’t strong enough. Instead, he was shrinking, and dissolving. The orgasms ripping through him grew in intensity, and his protests turned to begging, and turned to whimpering, as Cumster kept sucking, and sucking, until he’d converted Marcus’ entire body into cum, and slurped it all down into his gut.

The process only took fifteen minutes or so, and the four of us–me and my brother, and Jules and Ray–stood there in rapt fascination until Cumster had sat up, Marcus’ hefty balls in his hands, and swallowed them whole with a loud belch that sounded more like a swamp bubble than anything else, and looked up at me, greatly satisfied.

I could almost hear the gears in my brother’s head clicking together. Everything that had always confused him about Cumster, everything that had kept drawing him back to that man, when no one else he’d unleashed had ever held his interest, suddenly made more sense–because this was what he’d always been meant to be. Beyond this false reality, this was the thing that Cumster was, stripped of his humanity, stripped of these artificial laws, this was what his true self was. The bruiser had been able to sense it, but hadn’t understood what it meant–at least until now. He walked over to Cumster and touched him, feeling the ooze on his flesh, Cumster leaning in, sniffing for his cock, and the rapist…began to grow before my eyes, physique expanding into something massive, and not quite human but also not quite true yet, as he fucked Cumster’s face, ready to feed the dump another load–and I turned away towards Ray and Jules.

Well, Ray, really. Jules was simply horrified, and that didn’t surprise me in the least. Certainly Ray had changed him, but Jules had wanted what was happening to him, I could smell that now. Given what I had known about Jules before this, about his working out in the gym, his past as a jock, it shouldn’t have surprised me so much at the time that he would have felt drawn to Ray. I’m sure that, if he had found the rapist (or if the rapist had found him) he would have become something similar to Ray, at the end of his unleashing. But he wasn’t far enough along to understand any of this, and his brain could only understand what he was seeing as some living nightmare. He would understand soon enough though. Ray, on the other hand, was shaking–but not in fear, only in anticipation. He fell to his knees in front of me, knowing what was coming next, knowing why he had been so attracted to me before, but why he had…also been afraid of me, in the cop car, though he hadn’t let the fear show. I was more than him. I was more than him, and I was also the only one who could free him. He hefted up my cock with both of his hands, pressed it to his lips, and began to swallow–and I slid into him, gently, curling up deep within him, allowing the law to flow.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 8 (Part 1)

I arrived home after the three of them, by a few minutes at least, if not a bit longer. Time is…difficult now. In any case, I was the last to arrive at my home, and now, everyone was there, in this story. Well, everyone except Bernard, who had his own ending. Everyone else though, was there–Ray and Jules, I could feel them together, and I could see better now, Ray’s law, how it was cracking through this reality just like Cumster’s had. Jules was fainter, but already he was beginning to dissolve–his humanity, that is. Ray was overwhelming him, and in a few months, nothing of the old Jules would remain–especially not after I gave them a bit of assistance.

Cumster and Marcus were still bound in the basement. Marcus–all I could feel of him was the same brittle terror he always seemed to exude. Humanity–so interested in stability, and regularity, and predictability–it created these things like Marcus, these humans that were…nothing. Just the surface, no depth, with no capacity for growth or change. It was no wonder that they longed so desperately for us–they were the ones who needed us most, the ones we could do nothing for (or at least, the two of us could do nothing. Perhaps another will help them, at some point, but for now, they are hopeless). Cumster…he was already different, already something else. Not finished, not at all finished, but oh, my gift would be such a treasure when I was finished with it.

Then, the three gluttons, as I thought of them. They were inside, and had already commandeered a room of their own, and were feeding off one another, as was their law, of course. With them, observing them, was the final person–the bruiser, my brother, seeing what I had done with his wild thing. Then, there was me, the law–free at last!–and this is the last thing I shall write to you, my last testament. We are coming, the veil will be rent, and your reality will crumble to the dust it always should have been. We are coming, your omega, your alpha–your end, but a new beginning. If you can still understand this, then prepare.

I entered my home, and felt the glamour fall away as I did, and I could relax again as myself. I went to check on the gluttons, and as I’d sensed, the three of them were also in their true forms, the two minor ones feasting on the central one, sucking at it’s teats with their massive mouths, grinding up against it, all of them behaving more like one singular organism than three separate ones. I doubted that the three of them would ever be apart again, and certainly any human lucky to be drawn into the mass would become just like them in time. I could see it, the future of this, an entire swarm of these bloated beasts, and it was enough for my cock to slide free yet again, into my hand–but it could wait.

In the kitchen was Ray, and Jules. It was clear that Ray had tried to free his thrall from by ropes, but hadn’t had any real luck, and so he was waiting–along with a rather unassuming fellow, also sitting at the table. He was slight, tall but thin, with thick rimmed glasses, a smooth face, and bland features. Not a human I would have ever thought to remember–but underneath, I could feel the storm there, brewing and swelling at the sight of me, the first taste of real hope my brother had felt in so long, trapped within this empty shell of a human, a shell I was eager to help it shed as soon as possible. I waved by hand, and the straps came free from Jules, allowing him to breathe easier, and he flung himself at Ray, eager to be back with his master, and with his scent. Ray was, like Cumster…close to the law, but not of the law. Could bend the men around him to himself, but not outside the bounds of this reality–but I could help him, help them both, help them all–but that could wait a moment. I looked at my brother, at his unassuming and rather boring features, and considered what was beneath him as well, what I could sense.

I could also sense that he was surprised, and I remember be said as much, that he hadn’t…expected me to become something like this. That he’d thought I was like him, that when he freed me, I would form the same symbiosis with my host as he had. Instead, I was free. Entirely free, and I think it terrified him, though he never said it. He hadn’t expected me to become something more than him–he had, for so long, considered himself to be alone, but beyond alone, he was the superior. To be faced with the fact that not only were there others like him, but that those others would be more powerful than he was…it was not something my brother took well, nor did the human he was inhabiting. Then again, that human could sense that its time was coming to an end, that when I was finished, it would no longer exist as it did now, and I’m certain part of my brother’s apprehension was that.

It wasn’t helped by the fact that there was only so much I could say to him, about what had happened to me, about what I was. This record is more than what I could tell him, then. It was all so new, in that moment, everything was felt, not thought or understood, and my inability to answer his (meaningless, in my opinion) questions was rather infuriating for us both. So I decided to simply demonstrate instead. I thought about beginning with Ray–he was, after all, right there–but Cumster was my gift, and I had already begun the process. No reason to make him wait down there, with a gut full of darkness, just waiting for me to complete him.

A Demon’s Blessing (Part 3)

The incubus did nothing to disguise it’s true cum, now, when Marcus again swallowed the head of his cock. It tasted vile, the texture was thick like sludge, coating the inside of his mouth and throat, but as horrific as it was, Marcus didn’t care. Marcus…wanted this, more than anything now. The demon taunted him, beat him, made him beg and plead over and over again, until at last, it pinned him to the floor and raped his hole, viciously. The cock no longer slid into him with ease–every thrust was rough, like the shaft was coated in sandpaper and razors, and the more seed he took in, the more he felt himself change.

It lasted for days–weeks, perhaps. Marcus had lost all sense of time. Occasionally, the demon would stop for a moment and drag him over to the mirror–or not stop, simple fuck him in front of it, where he could see himself, see his body losing its humanity slowly. The fire inside him continued to rage, but now, guided by the incubus, it was only consuming the parts of whim which were becoming…unnecessary, charing away his lungs and heart–it was the flame that would keep him alive now. His skin blistered, and began to peel away in long, agonizing strips. The incubus would pin him down, riding Marcus’ cock for a moment, and strip them away, revealing the raw, rough demonic flesh and skin forming beneath. Still, for the moment, he remained human–mostly. The demon, however, had other plans in mind, now that the foundation had been laid.

He did it slowly. Slowly, so Marcus could truly experience every excruciating moment, as the incubus began warping and twisting his body, molding it to something that would be designed only for the demon’s pleasure–but what this demon found pleasurable was beyond the human scope of reason, Marcus discovered. He broke. He found himself craving it, needing the torture and and pain just to feel anything at all, and the demon was perfectly willing to give it to him. The bones–they were the worst, especially when the spurs, spikes and horns began to emerge from his skin. He bled sticky ichor all over the room, which the demon eagerly licked up. When he finished, Marcus discovered he could no longer stand–not the way he had before, as a man at least. His back was permamently hunched over, his legs shorter, his arms longer–and he found himself walking on his knuckles, arms bowed and packed with muscle, spines and razor sharp bone blades emerging all over him. When he hugged his Master, piercing the incubus–and himself in the process, it was…divine pleasure, and Marcus could scarcely believe he’d ever imagined, as a man, that he could feel anything so beautiful in his life.

His cock was next on the demon’s list, and he sculpted it, coaxing a bone from Marcus’ pelvis to grow through the entire length, skewering it slowly from the inside until it emerged from the tip, barbed–and kept growing, his cock growing along with it. More spines emerged from the new bone, as the flesh grew thick, the skin rough and scaly, and the spurs bent into hooks pointing both backwards and forwards, ensuring that whenever Marcus fucked a hole of any kind, it would bleed, tearing apart the flesh in the most splendid of ways–as Marcus did to his Master, that night, fucking him for the first time, making a new hole and driving his cock right into the incubus’s chest, plunging his cock into the seering heat at the center of him, roaring in pain and delight even as the incubus coughed dark bile onto his chest, demanding more, always more.

He healed amazingly fast–and a few hours later, he was ready again, expanding his balls, and then he told Marcus there was only one last thing that remained–his face. He wanted Marcus to watch it happen, wanted him to witness the demon warping and twisting his visage until nothing of his old self remained…and Marcus was glad to see it go. It was…too terrifying, seeing his mostly human head upon this monstrous frame. He didn’t want that mortality anymore–he’d found something so much…better now.

He began with the jaw, stretching it wide, tearing at his cheeks, ripping out each tooth, one at a time, and drawing razor sharp fangs from within his gums. Gripped his tongue, and pulled it longer and longer, corded with muscle, until it could extend two feet long, and was fully prehensile, six inches perpetually dangling from his lips. His mouth and nose became a short snout, eyes, pushed out, yellow and black, made for seeing in the dark pits of the hellscape his master called home. His hair disappeared, and two massive, cruel horns emerged from his skull, and with that, he was complete. But to Marcus’s horror–he was still there. He could still remember what he’d been–who he’d been–but it became like a shadow to him, a constant humiliation. A horror to his current self, that he, this monstrous beast, could have ever been so weak, and on the other the sickening knowledge of how far he had fallen, and how much further there was to fall, a deep abyss all around him into which he was plunging, deeper and deeper, with no end in sight. His master embraced him, and he felt himself pulled down, deep into darkness, until they landed in the demonic realms–where Marcus was now bound for all eternity.

There, the incubus introduced him to its other pets of various shapes and sizes, all of them once mortals as well. He is still there, worshiping his master, fucking the other pets for the incubus’ amusement, and on occasion, going with it back to the mortal world to punish, or seduce, some unwitting mage or other, who thought they too, could control the demon’s power for their own ends. They never could–Marcus could see how easily his master destroyed each of them. He suspected, it brought him along to watch just to see how easily he, too, had been defeated. To know what he’d been reduced to. To know that there was no way back for him, to redemption.

Winter Vacation [Interactive] (Part 10)

The demon hadn’t quite counted on Maury becoming quite as much of a vegetable as he had–still, he supposed that’s what you get from watching far, far too much television–and not even good television at that. He found the remote and clicked off the screen, and it took Maury a moment to even realize something had happened. He failed about, muttering and grunting, obviously looking around for a way to turn it back on, but the words were just gibberish. He was certainly in no state to be the daddy of the house, by any measure–it was a pity too, because the coach had always been fond of him. He could be useful though–and plenty of fun. Since his mind was basically gone, leaving him slobbering and grunting like an animal–and since the hair covering him was nearly a pelt anyway, he decided he was going to be the house’s new pet.

But what kind of pet? Nothing so domestic as a dog or a cat–no, he needed to be…something special, for his new family here. Still–it was easy enough to know where to start, looking at the size of him. The demon laid his palm on Maury’s forehead, and he felt some force flow through him. Maury didn’t have the words to describe anything at the moment, but all he could really sense was that the strange figure looming over him had…warped some deep piece of him, some piece of his own humanity, and then he felt the bones and muscles of his face begin to warp and shift. He gave a wild scream of pain as his nose and mouth pushed out into a boar’s snout, a few teeth falling out while the incisors began to grow, blood dribbling down his chin as two massive tusks curled up on either side of his new face. He brought his hands to them, concerned, but the rest of his body felt..strange as well. There was an odd sensation running down the front of his body, as his fat began to rearrange–and after a moment, three new pairs of nipples erupted down his belly and began to engorge. The demon tweaked one, and Maury squealed in pleasure, as thick, fatty milk leaked out. He tasted it, and it was such a delightful blend of sweet and sour.

Maury could smell something now–something…powerful. He heaved himself off the couch onto his hands and knees, and snuffled at the demon’s crotch, rubbing his snout against the demon’s huge cock, drooling now, in hunger. The demon guided his face to the head of his cock, and the demon started sucking at it as best he could, and there was another flush of power pushing through him. Maury felt his tongue…grow. It became long and thick, and very strong–he wrapped it around the demon’s cock and started squeezing it, enjoying the sound of his master groaning in pleasure. He had to shift positions, too–as his arms and legs became the same length, and something was pushing out above his ass. He couldn’t see it, but a thick tail was growing from his rear, several feet long and covered with hair, but very prehensile, capable of wrapping a grown man up and squeezing the breath from him, if need be. His hands and feet were growing larger as well, the skin on the hardening and cracking apart into scales, nails growing into thick black claws. He exhaled, and a flicker of flame and a belch of smoke erupted from his throat, engulfing the demon’s cock–it frightened Maury at first, but the demon seemed to enjoy it more than anything else. He winced, as two wicked black horns pushed out of his skull, longer than his tusks–but not by much.

Still, there were a few remaining details to take care of, before his new chimera was complete. He pushed through one last wave of changes as the beast kept pleasuring his cock, and it felt it’s own cock shudder, and begin to grow. A fleshy sheath grew down his belly, swallowing up the cock almost as quickly as it grew, but a foot of cock still hung free, slimy and dribbling greyish cum on the floor below him. The eyes, as always, were the last to shift–the humanity draining away as the iris’ changed to a bright yellow, the lids sliding shut sideways like a lizards would. The demon slipped it’s cock free of the chimera’s hot mouth, walked around and fucked it’s ass, the beast pushing back, eager to be filled by its master’s cum. When the demon was finished, he sent the beast to go lie down, and it curled up, tongue wrapped around it’s own cock, teasing it with licks of flame until it milked a load out of itself, and swallowed that down hungrily too.

The demon went to the window, and saw that dawn was approaching quickly–almost time for his two boys to be rousing themselves. He shimmered, and again he was clad in a more human form, though not one that resembled the coach’s original appearance at all. He was tired of looking at that man’s face in the mirror–it was time to be his own man, now that he’d been unleashed on the mortal realm. He’d treat his two boys to a nice, gluttonous breakfast, but what’s the main course going to be

What’s the demon going to feed is two son’s for breakfast?

  1. Milk from the chimera.
  2. Filth from the drone below.
  3. Food to help them grow.
  4. His own, demonic cum and piss.

The public twitter poll is here!

The supporter only Patreon poll is here!

Voting ends on Tuesday afternoon!

Pigtown – Faceless (Part 5)

He looked like a monster–what in the world had Dick and Ash done to him? No–he could imagine what they did, well enough, even if he’d never seen the dummy itself, after the work. The floppy ears raised a bit too high on his head, the short snout pushing out under his nose and mouth…he could see his face still sliding into place, his nostrils widening at the end of the snout, even as his mouth shifted underneath it. It hurt less, than when his face had first reattached, but it didn’t feel good, and he certainly didn’t like looking at it, either–even if he couldn’t tear his eyes away from himself, from the huge gut, from the stubby cock poking out of a sheath underneath it, and two massive balls swinging below, each the size of a small melon. They were…churning, and not in a sense he’d ever experienced. He felt something well up at the head of his cock, and a slimy tear of precum leaked from the slit, and drooled down to the floor, followed by a steady stream after that. Even his hands and feet were different–especially his feet. He’d assumed walking was difficult just because he was beginning to regain sensation–but he was surprised he could feel anything. His feet were…trotters–thick and wide, but completely inhuman, and his hands were reduced to three clumsy fingers, probably good for holding cocks and not much else.

“Yeah, look at you, you fucking beast. We’ll be goin’ back home together, and you’re gonna be my pet piggy, ain’t ya? You stupid piece of shit?”

Trey didn’t know what to do about his face and body–but he was plenty angry. He’d always been angry, but he’d never had the ability to do much to back it up. But now–sure, he was fat, but there was plenty of muscle packed onto this frame too. He could…fight. He clenched a fist, turned, and swung, slamming it right into Dick’s face, sending him stumbling back into a chair, and then onto the ground behind him. Yeah–that felt good, and he swung around to glower at Ash.

“Fix this,” he tried to say, but it didn’t come out right–which didn’t surprise him, he supposed, but Ash got the message in any case, and Trey stalked over towards him, ready to punch him as well, when he felt something slender wrap it’s way around his neck, tighten down on his windpipe, and bring him down to his knees.

“Bar policy,” a new voice said, “Pets gotta be kept on a leash at all times–for safety’s sake.”

Dick sat up, wiping blood from his nose, and saw the bartender had come around, and was holding the end of the leather leash, connected to the collar wrapped around Trey’s throat, who was pawing at with his useless hands. “Fuck man, thanks.”

“Yeah Rod, I owe you,” Ash said.

The bartender shrugged. “You’ve earned your place here, Ash,” he said, “And you–I like you. But don’t let this thing loose again, or I’ll have it dragging you around instead, got it?”

Rod handed Dick the end of the leash, and he gripped it tight. “No worries man–I won’t let him out of my hand.”

Rod nodded, and walked back behind the bar. Trey kept pawing at the collar for a moment, but couldn’t…quite tell what was wrong. The collar wasn’t choking him physically–if anything, it felt…comfortable, or even necessary. He was a beast after all. A monster. He had to be controlled, and chained, and…and dominated. Just a stupid, dull beast of burden, worthless for much of anything, only good for what it’s master wanted. The collar was choking out his mind, and Ash could see the intellect and fight draining from the pigman’s face, eyes going slack and dark, a line of drool hanging from the front of his snout.

“Better give it a name too–something for the tag,” Rod added, once he was back behind the bar, “How about Troff? Looks like that thing loves shoving its face in ‘em enough.”

“Ha! Yeah, sounds good to me!” Dick said, “How about it, Troff?”

Was…was that him? It sounded right. It sounded like a good name for a stupid, subservient beast like him. His master was standing beside him, and looked like he was hurt–and for some reason, Troff thought that he had done that…but that couldn’t be right. No, Troff would never hurt Master, never in a million years. He’d…hurt whoever did that to Master, is what he’d do.

Dick, through the leash, could sense Troff’s anger, and decided to let the pet off for this one. “Calm down now, pig–here, let’s give you a treat, eh?” Dick said, and pressed the head of his cock to Troff’s snout, and with a delighted grunt, it started sucking on Master’s cock, one thick hand massaging it’s nuts, feeling more and more precum puddle around his knees on the floor. Maybe master would let him lick it up, later–Troff was good at licking shit up, after all. After a moment, Dick got Troff repositioned, so Ash could fuck his ass, and together they brought to pig to a snorting, squealing orgasm, cum pouring from his cock onto the floor, which, like he’d hoped, Dick let the pig lick up after they were all finished.

Ash shook Dick’s hand, and wished him luck with his new life, and his new pig, and then turned to his two gimps, both of whom had watched the entire scene without moving–though with mixed, if limited, feelings. “Alright you two,” Ash said, “I think we’re calling it an early night, tonight, and heading back to my place. I think you’ve earned the privilege of getting your faces back–after we have a little fun with your bodies, eh?”

The end for now…