Trust me, none of these fuckers are going to make it to the end of pledge week, I can assure you that. Oh sure, we like to lead them on for a few days, but you can always tell the losers from the pack right at the beginning, they sure as hell aren’t cut out for this frat–we’re the fucking elite on campus, and we can’t have losers like them dragging us down. We’ll have them beaten to a pulp and they’ll run away with their tails between their legs–we don’t haze lightly around here. Still, I don’t know what’s up with that drink of theirs–one of them told me some upperclassman on campus gave them the brew as a good luck charm, telling them they’d get in for sure if they had some. Whatever, if someone else wants to use our reputation to make a few bucks what do I really care? But no silly drink is going to save their skins.

For pledge week, all of the new meat has to live out behind the house in a small shed we reserve specifically for the week. There’s no privacy, it’s cramped, but the real goal is to start weeding out the runts like these ones. We make sure the real pledges know who has a target on their back, and after a couple of days they’ve been hazed, beaten and ridiculed so hard by their fellow pledges they all drop out before too long. Trust me, none of these three can take that, not to mention everything else we’ll be throwing their way soon enough–they’ll be gone for sure.

***

Alright, so maybe things haven’t gone quite according to plan. It’s weird–we told all the freshman football jocks to break these three fuckers…but it almost seems like it happened the other way around. All of the jocks are suddenly these meek little bitches, doing whatever those three demand. There’s been some other strange things happening too–the three guys weren’t much to look at before, but all of them have packed on quite a bit of muscle…even as the freshman jocks have all lost a bit of size. Hell, I saw one guy, Kyle, in the shower–I swear he had a eight inch cock, but it’s less than an inch now. He’s packed on weight, and his uniform doesn’t fit right, like he’s a bit too short for it now. Whatever–I had a talk with the three of them, and all of them suggested they go ahead and move into the house with us. Doesn’t bother me any, we’ll beat some sense into them, and show them who’s boss soon enough.

***

No, this shit’s too fucked up. I have…some of the other guys have lost it, fuck, they’re just they’re fucking slaves now! And the Masters–fuck, they’re so…so fucking big now. I mean, of course they should get the house to themselves, of course us slaves should all live in the shed but…I swear things should have been different. I can remember them being different. I…I was in charge, and I can be still, if I can just keep my wits about me. Figure out what the fuck was in that drink, what’s letting them…suck the fucking life out of us, literally! Oh shit, here they come, to decide who gets to stay with them in the house tonight. God…I don’t want them to, but I can see them looking at me. If I have to spend another night between them, I don’t know if I can take it anymore.

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!

He’s fucking clueless.

It all started after that day in our intro to psych class, the one where our professor discussed hypnosis, and even demonstrated it on one of our classmates–with his permission of course. I was amazed–I had no idea it was so easy to put someone under like that, and I just couldn’t quite shake the idea of…my roommate for some reason.

He was a bit of a pig, kind of a slob, and it had always bothered me. I thought I’d…put him under and just make him clean up after himself a bit better, but once he was under, I just…it seemed like such a good idea to get him to suck my cock for me. I’d always been gay, and I hadn’t exactly had much luck with any of the guys here, and he seemed game enough.

Needless to say, he’d basically my pet pig at this point. I did make him clean up his act a bit, but I’ve been increasing his appetite, and it shows–he’s packed on the Freshman Thirty at this point, and it’ll be fifty by the end of the semester. All I have to do is say a word, and he’s on his knees, eyes shut, begging me for my cum. Yeah, fuck, just seeing him, the fucking mindless slut, it makes me nut every time. I’m gonna start whoring him out, I think–I know a few other guys in my psych class who might enjoy the pigs mouth for some cash, and he loves sucking cock so much, I doubt he’d object.

He’s fucking clueless.

Ever since that lecture in psych, I just knew I had to. My roommate and I, we’d never really connected, you know? I was too dirty, he was a clean freak–I thought that if I hypnotized him, I could get him to loosen up a bit, you know? But once I had him under, I thought–why not get something else out of him too?

I’d always been a bottom, and he wasn’t about to object to getting his cock sucked–and damn did he have a fine cock–the rest of him just wasn’t much to look at you know? Well, we’ve been working on that lately, of course. He’s going to the gym five days a week at this point, working out with a couple of other guys from our psych class, and dame, he’s looking buff all of a sudden, and I think the workouts are making him hornier.

He sure as hell is making me hornier–he hasn’t noticed that he’s stopped showering at this point, and the musk rolling off him when he walks in the room, it’s enough to send me to my knees, tongue out, eager for a load of cum. I’ve been molding his personality a bit, and he’s turned into a nice, brutal top now–fucking my face and my ass long and hard, talking dirty to me. I think I’ll start whoring him out–I know a few other bottoms who’d love a top like this, and he won’t complain about the extra tail, not after another one of our conversations.

Bro Shots (Sketch)

“Fuck yeah bro, that was a fuckin’ awesome fuckin’ workout, ya know?”

“Hell yeah man, we fuckin’ killed it. Feel so damn pumped.”

CT and RJ threw their gym bags over their shoulders and left the gym, laughing and high fiving, both of them two happy brutes–neither of them had much fat on their bodies at all, and each of them looked like they might be on steroids, though both would attest that they never used the stuff. Their apartment was a few blocks away, and they headed that direction, though CT, as much as he tried to be happy about his workout, he didn’t actually feel that good for some reason. If anything, he felt a bit sick. He tried to push past it, just like RJ and his trainers were always telling him to do, just like he always told them, but this wasn’t just being sore after a workout–this was…something different.

As soon as they were through the door to their apartment, RJ had CT shoved up against the wall, their lips locked together, snarling at his best friend, his lover, groping his cock, but he could tell something was up with him. Usually CT was fucking ferocious after a workout like that, they’d fucking killed it! But now, he seemed distracted.

“What’s wrong bro?”

“N-Nothin’, I think. Just feel kinda weird all of a sudden. I think I need a moment,” CT said, and pushed himself away–when something brushed against RJ’s abs that shouldn’t be there–CT had sprouted a gut. Not a roid gut either, this was a flabby, sagging thing, and RJ flipped out.

“What the fuck is that man? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

CT just stared down at his body, grabbed the gut and gave it a shake–surprised at how…good it felt. No, not…good exactly. Just…just familiar. Familiar because…because it was his. His gut. It was growing bigger, and the rest of him too–his muscles dissolving as he expanded, past 300 pounds now. He could remember–he could finally fucking remember, what always seemed at the edge of his mind! He turned to Ryan to tell him, when the baseball bat slammed into his head and he crumpled to the floor.

“Did I kill him? Tell me I didn’t kill him brosir, please!”

“He’s going to be ok, RJ, try to stay calm.”

“But what’s wrong with him? My bro, my alpha fucking bro’s a fucking lardass all of a sudden, and you won’t tell me what the fuck is going on!”

Carl moaned. His head was throbbing from where Ryan and slammed the bat into his head. He looked up, his vision blurry, and found himself looking up at two trainers. They’d hauled him up off the floor and had him tied to a chair, and he could see one of them with a…with a needle. They were going to shoot that fucking shit into him again! He started struggling, yanking at the ropes. “Ryan! Ryan, you have to try and remember. This isn’t us, Ryan, we aren’t like these fuckers man! Please, you have to trust me, you have to get us out of here.”

“What the fuck’s he saying man?” RJ asked.

“Don’t pay him any mind, bro,” one of the trainer’s said, “About 1% of bro’s have a natural resistance to the serum–all we gotta do is give him a double dose, and everything’ll be just fine, trust me. You’re alpha bro will be back, and better than ever.”

“Really?” RJ asked, “You mean it?”

Carl fought, he screamed as the two men slipped the needle into a vein and injected him with their special serum. The effects were almost immediate, Carl’s mind losing focus, his fat melting away and becoming muscle again, but this…was worse than last time. His…bones were aching, and his head, it felt like he was in a vice, and it was crunching down everything in his skull until only the simplest thoughts were left behind. RJ’s jaw dropped as CJ reappeared in the chair, ropes ripping away as the huge, hairy beast tore them away with a roar and stood up, looking around dumbly, a foot long cock hanging between his legs, half erect. CJ snorted, and glowered at RJ. “That’s what I’s talking ‘bout. Get over here fucker, ‘n suck my fat bro cock!”

The Catcall Curse (Part 6)

Jack awoke in his bed, feeling every muscle ache, in parts of his body he hadn’t even known existed. His huge cock was halfway into the pig’s hole, snoring beside him in his bed, and he was immediately torn. Slip it in and keep fucking? Pull it out and see what he could about extricating himself from this mess of a spell? At least the choice was there–he had almost no memory of the night before, ever since the spell, and Clyde the pig, had seized control over him and used him to corrupt the entire bar around them. He had been a willing accomplice of course, but he still hated the idea that, at the end of the day, it was the curses that manipulated him, not the other way around.

Gently, he inched his hulking form away from the pig’s warm body, letting his semi-hard cock slip out, bit by bit. Clyde snorted a time or two, but didn’t wake–he had to be exhausted too, after everything he’d been through. He was able to roll away–slowly, trying to not let his body disturb the mattress too much, and got off the bed, not at all adjusted to the body he had at the moment. The simple size of himself alone was enough to give him waves of vertigo–he was so damn far from the ground! Wide too, his shoulders were almost as broad as two smaller men, and the mere idea that he’d never be able to go somewhere without people gawking and staring at him, it was enough to send a shiver over his skin, his cock engorging to it’s full thirteen inch length, and he turned back to look at the pick, licking his bearded lips.

He must have weighed in somewhere a bit north of five hundred pounds at this point. He’d kicked the covers off, giving Jack quite the show of his new body–he didn’t remember all of those tattoos before, they must have showed up after the spell got control of him. They were everywhere, running all the way to his fingers, and up onto the pig’s hairless face. Fuck, his fucking face–he’d never seen that much metal on a body before, just there. He couldn’t get a good view of the pig’s junk, but he knew what was down there anyway–his mind just…supplied the image. It’s cock was nearly invisible, but it’s balls were so huge they formed an impossible bulge in the front of anything the pig wore, and it had to walk bowlegged, or just crawl–which the pig obviously preferred. Fucking whore, disgusting piece of shit pig, fuck, he’d teach that bitch another lesson or two–

Jack bit his lip, hard, to stop himself from storming back onto the bed and ramming his cock deep inside the pig’s loose hole. He couldn’t afford to get anymore lost in this, he’d wasted too much time already–there were appointments to keep, curses to cast. He retreated to the bedroom, walking as soft as he could, unable to believe how loud a simple footstep of his size twenty feet had suddenly become. He faced himself in the mirror, and recoiled–he’d known he was a brute, but even…that was more severe and extreme than he’d expected. He was quite a bit older, his hair and beard mostly grey, the skin lined with wrinkles–where skin was even visible. So much of his body was simple coated in hair. He ran his two, huge, scarred hands through his pelt, proud of how much of a man he was, what a beast he was, a fucking beast! Fuck yeah, should go fuck that pig again, show that bitch what a real man’s like–

He gripped the sink, hard enough to worry his new strength might just break it, and took a few deep breaths. Enough of this–he focused on himself–his real self–pushing back past the curse, stripping away the layers the spell had painted on him, a bit at a time. After twenty minutes, he took another look at himself–still too big, still to hairy, still too old, but more manageable at least. The urges, while there, were easier to control. It would be a few more days before he could recall himself well enough to put the curse completely behind him, but this would be enough to get rid of the pig–as long as it was still here, he’d never get out entirely.

He walked back into the bedroom and shook the pig awake. “Hey, you’ve had your fun, now you gotta get lost,” he said, keeping the gruff attitude going, figuring it might help him out here.

The pig yawned and lolled in bed, before it said, “I thought you were bigger–didn’t you like being bigger?” It reached out for jack’s now more modest cock, but he pulled away before he could touch it.

“I mean it, get out. We’re done here, and I have other work to get to.”

“But daddy,” the pig whined, “You don’t have to return me for hours, you know. It’s twenty four hours for a reason…Now where’s my big stupid daddy fucker? I know he’s in there somewhere…”

Jack felt his control start to weaken, his body suddenly expanding at the pig’s words. Damn, this pig was still strong. He had a feeling it wouldn’t have a hard time finding new men to abuse it every night, and every man it touched would probably end up as yet another brute at the bar. “No…No, I’m stronger than you, you don’t have the spell helping you now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about daddy,” the pig said, wiggling it’s ass at him, “I have a hard time thinking before my first fuck of the day–better than coffee. Now get over here you stupid fuck, and plow me rough.”

One step forward. One more fuck couldn’t really hurt, right? Another step. Fuck, his cock was so fucking big, fucking nasty, fuck. He pressed the head to the hole and slipped in. “One more, then yer goin’ back, ya fuckin’ slut,” Jack snarled, as big as he’d been when he woke up. He knew he shouldn’t give in like this, but he did need a day off–besides, it was a 24 hour rental, and Jack would hate to waste something as good as that.

The Catcall Curse (Part 5)

“Come on now, don’t be scared–don’t you want to play with a nasty pig like me?”

Fuck, did he ever. Jack quivered, the energy building up inside of him. He’d never really been able to have that much control over, whatever power this was. All he’d ever really been able to do was point it in someone’s direction, give it an idea to go on, and then push–but it was moments like these that terrified him the most, because this was when he realized how little control he had. This would kill him one day, this energy–he could feel it–but at that moment, all he felt was life and vigor throbing in every bit of his body. There was too much light up close and too much dark at a distance, like his vision was scrubbing away everything that wasn’t this…this sexy, disgusting pig in front of him. But he had to fight it. This had already gone too far, no one deserved this. He could feel what the spell wanted, but it needed more from him to make it happen. If he could just get away before it got anything else out of him, then it would lose strength eventually. However, getting away was going to be…difficult.

“Well? Why are you just standing there? Go on, say something, talk dirty to me, tell me what a disgusting fucker I am, I want to hear it.”

“Please…I know you want this, but…but pick someone else, anyone else. You don’t want me,” Jack said, but even as he said it, he knew reason would fall deaf in this space. Curses spoke a twisted logic all their own–the pig had no time for this. But more than that, the spell was…angry. Not that spell could feel emotions, but it could sense him pushing against it, and it was more than ready to push back.

“Oh, but look at you daddy. You obviously came to play tonight. I love a man in uniform–are you here to punish me, officer?” The pig ran a finger down the front of Jack’s leather uniform shirt, tight against his body. Hadn’t…he been wearing something more casual, earlier? It was the spell–it was trying to weaken his resolve, and it was working. The pig started groping Jack’s cock through the tight leather breeches he was wearing, and he groaned, precum leaking into the gap between skin and leather. “Such a big tool, and you don’t want to use it? Am I not naughty enough for you, sir?”

“No–No, I’m not going to fall for this. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“What’s that, daddy?”

“You’re…it’s not going to work, you…stupid pig.”

“Fuck, I am stupid, aren’t I, sir?”

“So fucking stupid, no fucking brains at all. The only thing a pig like you is good for is as a couple of holes for big fucking cocks,” Jack said, his voice turning to a snarl. No, what was he saying? He shook his head, and forced himself to take a step back, ignoring how…hard his cock had gotten saying that. “No, I can fight this. Have some fucking will, Jack!” He said to himself.

The pig laughed, “You don’t have any fucking will daddy. Big fucking stupid brutes like you only know how to do two things–drool, and fuck. Look at that fucking body of yours, every bit of you stuffed with testosterone. No room in that skull for brains. You won’t have any fucking will when I’m done with you,” the pig said, it’s voice dropping into a lower register which made Jack shiver with terror and lust, but the words he said kept reverberating in him. He tried to fight, but he didn’t know how, his body expanding, coating itself with hair, every thought draining from his mind aside from a deep, endless desire to fuck. With one hairy forearm the brute wiped drool from it’s beard, and snarled.

“Fuckin’ pig, damn slut, bend the hell over, gotta fuckin’ plow you!”

He was so…big all of a sudden. Nothing felt right, or was he just clumsy? It didn’t fucking matter, not anymore. He slammed the pig down onto a table and yanked his cock free, ramming it deep, fucking like a beast, huffing and roaring, spittle flying everywhere, pushing his energy out now. Had to fucking punish this pig. This pig was nothing, this pig was property, this pig was worthless! Now there really was a vortex around them, the men surrounding them could feel the curse pulling at their lives, their will, their souls. The room started to bend and warp, shifting and changing into something entirely new, Jack powerless to stop it, powerless to do anything at all. The pig beneath him was shifting as well, changing into…into something. It was coming from him, some image, but he couldn’t keep it straight, all he knew was to fuck, to punish, to brutalize, to mark, to humiliate.

He exploded, at some point. He came, and the spell sucked the last bit of energy from him that it needed, and finally completed itself, the leather bar slowly coming back into focus, no man in the room unchanged at this point, but all Jack could do was keep fucking, and fucking, and fucking.

The Catcall Curse (Part 2)

Clyde told himself he’d just suck one. Maybe, if he sucked one, the rest of the guys would feel like they’d had their fun, and would leave him alone. He looked around, surveying his workmates’ cocks, sizing them up…wondering how each of them might taste. Eventually, one of the hornier guys made the choice for him. “It’s not a fuckin’ buffet, pig, fuckin’ get to work already!” He said, grabbing Clyde by the hair, pulling so the pig moaned in pain, and then slammed his cock into his mouth. It wasn’t one of the largest, by any measure–just around four inches…but as Clyde sucked, and he started getting hornier, he found himself caught up in a fantasy, that the shaft was growing in his mouth, down his throat, large enough to make him gag and choke, thick enough to stretch his jaw. Thinking about how…how much of a whore he’d feel like, if he was servicing a cock like that.

He was so caught up in his fantasy, that it took a deep thrust by the guy down his throat, forcing a gag out of him, to realize his sudden, unbidden fantasy had, in fact, come true. He didn’t have much time for thoughts after that, he was too caught up in figuring out how to breathe, while still getting the cock lodged as deep in his throat as he possible could, hungry for a load, a…big load, fuck, filling his mouth, running down his chin onto his chest…

The man exploded, his suddenly huge balls constricting and unleashing a blast of cum so huge, and so deep, that Clyde felt the seed push up into his sinuses, burning and making his eyes water as cum streamed out his nose and out from around his mouth, the man still thrusting until Clyde had to pull away, wiping cum from his face, the guy staring down, agog at his now massive cock and huge balls still dribbling cum onto the gravel, and Clyde could only gawk at it, at…at the size of it, and he realized he’d been mistaken. There was no way he could only suck one cock–he…he wanted more. Besides, it was only fair, right? But more than that, the guy’s couldn’t believe the change, and they were all fighting for the privilege of being the next cock in the whore’s magic mouth.

Clyde…kind of lost track, after that. For a while he stayed on his knees, sucking at a near constant clip–and every cock that entered his mouth grew, the smallest ending at eight inches, but thicker than a beer can. His hands were busy too, stroking cocks, keeping the men happy as they waited for their turn, but his brain wouldn’t stop…thinking. Imagining. Fantasizing. Sure, these guys were all hot, but…but they could be hotter. Bigger, of course. Hairier too. Rougher and cruder, beastly musky and stinking of manhood. The men’s combined musk welled up around them all, as their bodies responded to Clyde’s thoughts, their muscles expanding, guts growing heavy and hairy, none of them now less than six foot three, and there was Clyde in the midst of them, trying to juggle all of their cocks, all of their desire, but these new men were impatient. They hauled him up–he was amazed that just two of them could carry him–and he was bent over a sawhorse, the men forming a second queue for his ass. The first one hurt…and he liked that it hurt. He liked being tight, he liked feeling himself being torn apart by their massive cocks, their huge hands gripping his chubby hips tight enough to bruise, listening to them huff and pant and whisper crude nothings in his ears:

“Tightest ass I’ve ever felt on a pig, and plenty of cushion for pushin’–just built to be a slut.”

“Come on boy’s let’s coat the pig in cum, if it likes it so much–gotta make sure everyone knows this pig’s roll in life.”

“Soft and smooth, just how I like ‘em, not a fuckin’ hair to be seen!”

Overhead, on the roof, Jack had positioned himself for a birdseye view of the orgy down below. Yeah, this curse was a strong one–all he’d really planned on was Clyde becoming the new slut of his worksite. If the guys were too busy shouting at him and getting the pig horny, they wouldn’t have time to harass the women passing by–not that any of them would have an interest in women after this. But apparently the curse had collected some feedback–from where he was, he couldn’t tell whose fantasies were feeding it, but he watched the guys go from average looking blue collar guys, to huge brutes, coated with hair, bulging out of their jeans and shirts, all of them strong jaws, heavy brows, and when the wind blew, he could catch their collective musk on the wind, and fuck, it was even making him hard.

Still, the energy was beginning to wind down. All of the guys had taken four or five turns with either of Clyde’s now well worn holes, his fatter, now hairless body crusted with cum. He watched the thought appear in each guy’s mind at the same time, that the pig needed a shower of course. They got Clyde back on his knees and together they spewed their yellow, stinking piss all over him, the pig drinking down as much as he could, thirsty for more, and then the men started to emerge from their sexual haze, stumbling back, trying to process what in the world had just happened to them. That was it then–that wasn’t quite as powerful as he’d expected then…but why was there still a buzzing in the back of his head? Some…thread unresolved?

Indeed, the men in the circle were coming back to themselves, but looking again, it was clear Clyde was not. He was simply delirious with lust, sucking piss from his lip, rubbing it into his body, stroking his tiny cock, gut stretched taut with the men’s massive loads of cum. Had he really not had enough? Or had the curse ensnared him so tightly that even still, it felt he deserved more?

He saw two guys speak for a moment, and then one trotted over to his truck, and start digging around behind the seats. He came out with, what looked like to Jack, as a pair of overalls–probably something for the pig to wear, since they’d shredded his clothes to bits. The guy went over and tossed them to Clyde, probably telling him to get dressed, but in the air, Jack watched them ripple in shift, landing in front of Clyde as a couple pieces of leather. Jack took a deep breath–this had only been the first act then, but what now?

Ruining Mr. Fisher (Part 6)

The light died back after about thirty seconds, but Gerard kept his face turned away. He…didn’t want to look at him. He didn’t want to see what he’d just done to his only son. It didn’t really matter though, because he knew everything about the new Shawn anyway, from his new memories that were forming in his mind, coming unbidden to him, the previous Shawn fading away to a distant memory.

Shawn–he’d always been Gerard’s pride and joy. Brilliant from a young age, with his father’s drive and ambition, he’d funneled him into the most advanced private schools and academies he could find. They hadn’t always had the best of relationships, but that was because Gerard wanted him to be great, before all of this, before Ned had first flashed that medallion in front of his eyes, Shawn had been seventeen, at the front of his class, with full ride scholarships to Harvard and Yale. He’d been talking about becoming a Senator, or President, one day, and Gerard knew he could do it, and part of him had always hated it. Always hated him for…outshining him, for taking the stepping stones he’d provided as his father and using them even better than he’d imagined he’d might, even better than Gerard could have used them. As Ned had torn him down, few things had hurt more than the contempt he’d seen in his son’s eyes, every time he looked at his faggot failure of a father. Part of him had always wanted to see him fail at something, but what he’d done now, was make it so Shawn had never even tried to do anything in his entire life.

A difficult child, he’d gotten in fights even at preschool–he’d never made it far academically, and once everyone at all the other schools had gotten wind of his son’s violent tendencies, they’d all barred him admission. He couldn’t even succeed at public school, and Gerard had been forced to bail him out of trouble for bullying and violent outbursts for years. He’d been expelled two months into his freshman year of high school. Gerard had paid for tutors, but none lasted, and now Shawn didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to do…and Gerard couldn’t make him do anything at this point. The rock in his stomach wouldn’t settle, and he finally turned around, and found Ned on top of his son, his new son, the two of them kissing and eating each other’s sweaty faces, grinding their crotches together.

Shawn had always been in decent shape, but now he was massive. After all, he spent all his free time (and he had a lot of free time) working out and practicing boxing and wrestling with men who doubled as fuck buddies most of the time. Gerard had caught him with steroids over and over, but had never been able to stop him from taking them, and that had only made him bigger and more aggressive than before. Shawn had gotten the first of his piercings when he was eleven, behind his parents’ backs, and his first tattoo in exchange for a blow job when he was fourteen. At this point he had more metal in him than Gerard could count, and at least three quarters of his body covered in shoddy, sloppy ink work.

“Fuckin’ A,” Shawn said, when Ned lifted away from his mouth, his nose broken in multiple places, eyes swelled from beatings, half his teeth missing from his mouth. “Didn’t…fuckin’ know I could feel this fuckin’ good. Fuckin’ powerful man…Fuck! I feel fuckin’ good, ya know?”

“I bet you do,” Ned said, “But here, let me give you some better equipment, eh?” Ned pressed the medallion into Shawn’s flesh, above his cock, and Gerard wanted his son’s cock and balls grow to obscene proportions–maybe not as large as his own were, confined tight in this cage, but at least eleven inches, and the size of two oranges.

“Yeah man, now that’s a fuckin’ fuckstick,” Shawn wrapped both scarred, tattooed hands around the shaft and started milking it, “Fuckin’ fantastic…”

Ned took a step back, admiring the muscular monster lying on his bed, veins bulging, huge roid gut, stupid stare on his face as he drooled and stroked his meat. “Hard tah believe a sexy fucker like that came outa yer seed, bitch, gotta say.”

“You…what the fuck, you fucking ruined him…”

“Sure fuckin’ did, but he likes it. Still, a deal’s a deal, so let’s get that cage off ya,” Ned said. Gerard hefted up his apron and let Ned get at the cage there–but instead of unlocking it, he felt a searing heat as Ned pressed the medallion in the spot over his cock, and after a moment there was a loud clank, as the cage hit the floor, and Ned stood back up. Gerard reached under for his cock, but found nothing but fat. He kept looking, and couldn’t find his balls either. Eventually his hands found a half inch nub of a cock–more of a nipple buried in his gunt, and a couple of small balls. His face went red with rage. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

“The cage is off–I didn’t say how it would happen. Don’t need it anyway–that nub is dead flesh–no nerves, and you can’t shoot anyway, not with those dry balls. Now all we gotta do is fix the two of you up, and we’ll be golden.”

“What…what are you talking about?”

“Well, yer ex ain’t gonna want tah deal with a monster like that. ‘Sides, I have a feelin’ yer gonna like yer son a lot more in a second.”

Gerard tried to move, but he was frozen in place as Ned took the medallion and pressed it to his own breast–a seemingly endless flash later, he stumbled back, unable to believe what he was remembering, as his son got up from the bed and started towards him. “No–No, Shawn, please no, I–”

The right hook caught him mid sentence, and he felt another tooth dislodge from his mouth as he fell to the floor, his son grabbing him in a raging, erotic heat, driving his massive cock deep into his father’s hole. It hurt, and worse, it didn’t…feel good. All it did was hurt. Before, when Gerard had been fucked, it had felt good, but this, he screamed, and tried to crawl away, his son biting into his flabby shoulder and drawing blood as he drove in deeper, slamming his father’s face into the floor of the trailer, stunning him so he laid there and let his son rape his hole.

Making Pigs (Part 3)

Officer Vernon knew this wasn’t what he should be doing.

He’d received multiple calls about a couple of guys having sex on the side of the freeway, in open view, and he’d been tasked with getting them to stop and arresting them for gross indecency. But he’d gotten off his motorcycle, walked over towards them, and then…and then here he’d been standing for a few minutes, just watching them fuck, his cock out of his uniform pants, stroking himself off, unable to look away.

“That’s good pig, just keep stroking that big, thick shaft of yours. Just keep watching me pound Porgy’s front hole. You like watching men fuck, don’t you? In fact, whenever you see men fucking, it’s like every other thought flies straight out of your brain, and it’s all you can think about.”

Yeah…yeah, he did have a hard time focusing on anything where guys were fucking in front of him, especially when one of them was a sexy pig like Porgy…fuck, watching that perfectly smooth fat jiggle, the fucker’s triple chins wobbling as the man plowed that pig’s cockhole deeper and deeper…What had he been thinking about again? It…it probably wasn’t that important really. His cock was important. He looked down at it, at the fifteen inch long monstrosity in his hands, and could barely believe the size of it. It hadn’t been that big before, had it? Who cares? It felt fucking good in his hands as he milked it, angling himself so he could show it off to the car’s driving by.

“Yeah pig, that’s right. You like showing off, don’t you? Why don’t you take that shirt off, show everyone that firm gut of yours and piggy pecs, those fat, inch long nipples you have studded on your chest. Go on, give them a twist, I bet they’re sensitive as hell, right? Almost enough to make you cum, just playing with those by themselves. And those fucking meaty thighs, packed with as much fat as muscle I bet.”

The buttons popped off as he tried to get his shirt off, and he ended up just tearing his way out of it, hearing the seams of his pants ripping apart at the same time. After a moment, he too was naked, aside from his boots which were bulging around his enlarging feet, stroking his massive cock with one hand, twisting his huge nipples with the other, eyes empty, drool leaking out one corner of his mouth, lost in the pleasure of his own changing body.

“Hairy beast too, a proper boar. Stupid as fuck though. Bet you can’t even talk. Still, those hands and feet of those are as massive as your cock–guess it’s true what they say. Damn short though–what are you, just a little over five feet? Damn pig, that cock of yours almost hits your fucking knees. Yeah, fucking look at you, Can’t believe I caught myself two today, gonna fuckin’–”

He watched the man start huffing and fucking Porgy deeper now, and with a cry, he shot his own load deep in Porgy’s front cunt, the pig letting out a squeal of his own, cumming for the fourth or fifth time.

“Get over here, come clean out Porgy’s holes like I know you want to. Cum hungry slut, covered with fucking hair. No thought in your heads except about fucking and stroking that big cock. Need a name too though–how about Boaris, eh?”

Boaris snorted his approval, and tried to walk over, bursting from the remains of the boots as he did, and got down in front of Porgy, hefted up the fat apron and shoved his lips to the pig’s gunt, sucking out all the cum he could, licking it up, digging his tongue in deep. The man came up behind him, running his hands through the thick, furry pelt that had grown in over Boaris’ whole body, from the tops of his size twenty feet to the backs of his palms to the huge curly beard swallowing his face.

“Porgy, clean yourself out, and give Boaris a treat–eh?”

Porgy somehow knew what the man meant, and he let loose his bladder, sending a flood of piss out his hole which Boaris tried to drink up, but a good bit of it just ran down the front of his body, soaking into his hair, running down over his pecs and the curve of his muscular gut.

“Alright you pigs, that’s enough get in the back–we have an auction to get to, and a long drive to get there.”

The two pigs, their past lives now well forgotten, hauled themselves into the bed of the truck–Boaris helping the massive Porgy in first, before hauling himself up after. The man climbed in the cab, started the engine, and drove off. It wasn’t a mile down the road that he felt the truck start bouncing–sure enough, Porgy was flat in the bed and Boaris was mounting him at eighty miles an hour down the highway. Yeah, these two were going to fetch a damn good price at the hog auction today, he could just tell. And with all the attention they were getting, it was a good chance they’d pick up a third or fourth pig on the way too. The man smiled and took a long drag off his cigarette–the pigs never see it coming, but somehow it never gets old.

Arctos Monthly (Part 5)

From that moment on, the two of them were inseparable. Andy was my roommate, sure, but he moved in with Mitch–after Mitch got done kicking his old frat bro out of the place to make room. While Mitch tried to go to class and practice, Andy spent the day fucking himself, smoking, drinking and eating, but as soon as Mitch got back to the room, they’d fuck all night long. I joined them regularly, but it was clear I was a third wheel, and when I got my third package in the mail–well, that changed everything, literally.

It came a few weeks after Mitch’s first, and it was moderately sized. I had no clue what might be in there, but I took it back to my room and opened it up, and when I did–I still don’t really remember what was in there. Nothing…physical, but as soon as I opened it, I started…seeing and feeling and knowing all of these things I knew I couldn’t, that all of this was impossible, and when I felt like my head was going to explode, I passed out–and woke up in my house. Yeah–my house, not what I was expecting either, not that I really knew what to expect from Arctos at that point.

But I had a house. I had a whole new life, actually. I made my way to a mirror and got a look at myself–now in my early fifties, a good amount of grey accenting my red. I’d done well for myself, working construction and owned my own company–I’d never been to college. It all felt perfectly natural, and totally unfamiliar at the same time, but needless to say, I was freaked out. I was still in the same town as before, so I hopped in my truck and headed for campus, where I discovered that both Andy and Mitch both remembered me, and that no one else did.

From that moment on, I drifted apart from Andy and Mitch, though I kept tabs on them well enough. Andy got his final package a week after me, and ended up in a rundown trailer park not too far from my house, living like a complete pig, eeking out a living as a long range trucker–which is about the only job he could manage with his piss-poor work ethic. Mitch quit going to school and moved in with his pig, and got his second package in due time–Andy made him hold off on using the cigar that arrived for him for four days, and Mitch smoked it with Andy in the room, of course. Mitch is massive now–shaved head, covered in tattoos, a real mean fucker, but the new Andy loves it–the abuse, the rough fucks, being his urinal, the fisting–all of it. Mitch doesn’t have a job–he doesn’t do well with authority–but they make some extra bucks renting out Andy’s hungry holes to a few local biker gangs, and Andy pimps himself out on his trips as well–though Mitch usually follows along in his hog, keeping tabs on his pig bitch. After Mitch’s third package, he aged up a bit, but not a whole lot changed–the two of them are certainly happy together still. I see them on occasion, but I don’t fuck Andy anymore, now that Mitch insists he charges me too–I don’t even get a fucking discount, can you believe that? Fucking ungrateful bastards.

But yeah, I was lonely, I admit it. I hooked up regularly, but most of the fucking bears around here are little bitches. It was Arctos who reminded me that I still had one referral left that I could use, and I’d made friends with an older fellow in my neighborhood named Orville–a widow in his early seventies, no kids. He…tolerated my sexuality, but didn’t understand it, but I figured, why not give him a chance to experience it himself?

He got the package a few days after I requested it, and twenty minutes later he was pounding on my door, dressed in some rather age inapporpriate attire–some denim cutoff booty shorts, a leather harness, and steel toed boots, a pipe shoved in his mouth, and my tongue shoved in beside it in short order. He was confused to say the least, and less than happy after I gave him the whole story, but, well, once he’d gotten a taste of my dick, he couldn’t quite get enough, and I was happy to have a steady fuck again. The pipe had put on some pounds, and fuck his ass was nice–soft and pillowy, but not too fat–just right.

He’d come around by the time the second package arrived, and he asked me to stick around while he smoked it. I was more than happy to do so, and when everything cleared–well, we were a bit closer than I was expecting. He’d picked up my red hair, though his was quite a bit whiter at his age, and a nice, thick accent that made my cock jump immediately. Yeah, he’d become my own father, and somehow that only made us hotter for each other. he loved lording it over me too–ordering me around, telling me how to take care of the company he’d given me when he’d retired, but in bed, he did what I told him–I made sure of that. The third and final package showed up and burst his bubble, however. When he woke up, he discovered he’d lost fifty years of his life, and now he was my young, chubby cubson, but I think it made him happy. Fifty more years, and someone sexy to spend it with? He thinks he’s pretty lucky, and I’m pretty lucky too, having a sexy son like that in my life.

To say that Arctos industries changed my life is an understatement–it was transformative, and it can be for you too! For just $149.99 you too can get a three month subscription to Arctos Monthly, and a gift subscription for a friend. I promise you won’t regret it–after all, as with all of Arctos’ products, your one hundred percent satisfaction is always guaranteed.