Digital Manipulation (Part 6) [Interactive]

Nothing much changed for Perry for a few weeks–all he had to do was live his life. He went to the gym, and then came home to his apartment, and every day that passed, more and more of Perrion disappeared from his mind. He couldn’t even remember what he’d seen in him at all, or why they had been dating–as far as he could recall, he’d always been Perry, and he had always been alone. So, when he woke up one morning to discover he wasn’t alone anymore, he had a sinking, terrifying sense of deja vu, that he had woken up like this before, with a relative stranger, and last time…he hadn’t been the one who’d survived.

“What ya waitin’ for man?” the stranger said, as he got out of the bed on the other side “We gotta get tah the gym, right?”

Perry couldn’t respond, he was simply in awe of him. He was massive, whoever he was, and Perry was hardly small. He looked like someone who had been taking steroids for years–or the synth shit even stronger than that. His shoulders were nearly as wide as a doorframe, and he struggled a bit when he bent over and grabbed an electric blue slip of spandex from the floor, gave it a stretch and stepped into it. He turned, and gave Perry a look at his groin, and that was somehow worse.

His cock–it didn’t even look much like a cock anymore, really. It had been pumped full of so much silicone that it just looked like some monstrous, fleshy bulge, his ball sack a single massive wad of the stuff, larger than a basketball. With some effort, he managed to squeeze it into the spandex, which turned out to be a singlet that barely fit on his huge frame. The static was there, dulling the horror bit by bit, but Perry held onto it as long as he could. This…this wasn’t right, this was fucking disgusting. Still, the man, his boyfriend who just went by PJ, got him into a matching singlet from his side of the floor, and they headed to the gym, stopping by the locker room first, so he could get his injection. He wanted to be as big as his boyfriend, right? Or even bigger?

Everyone stared at PJ at the gym, and Perry stared along with them, but it was no longer disgust–it was jealousy. PJ was the center of attention, no matter where he went, always. His massive, unnatural frame and his huge bulge took care of that, and Perry found himself disappearing into the background. That was good though, right? He shouldn’t…want that, should he? But when they got home, and PJ told him it was time for his silicone injection, he got…excited. It hurt, but it was going to be worth it, he could tell.

Everyday, he seemed to get larger, and every day, he felt like his brain was getting smaller and smaller. PJ was a man of simplicity–working out, injections, protein, and TV were the only interests he had, and as Perry followed him through their life, he found his own focus shrinking and shifting as well. It was paying off though–people were starting to pay attention to him too. Together, they were even more freakish than apart, a perfect pair of muscle freaks for the entire world to gawk at. Perry couldn’t recall the last time he’d worn something that wasn’t spandex, he couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t had to turn his whole body to the side in order to look behind him, he couldn’t remember what it felt like to hold his cock with one hand.

That was one thing neither he, nor Perry, could really handle well–was the horniness. The synth steroid made them ragingly horny, but with their monstrous cocks, jacking off was…a struggle .PJ didn’t even seem interested in playing with his now useless cock at all–instead, he rode toys all afternoon long, often on VR cam so men on the internet could watch him bounce on them like a total slut, and Perry was joining in before too long. They could rake in so much money doing some ass-to-ass action with their massive double dildo, two muscle freaks pounding their holes into oblivion until they both reached massive anal orgasm together.

They were merging again–Perry could sense it. He couldn’t keep track of who he was anymore, if he was Perry or PJ, and so, to make things easy, they decided they both should go by PJ, together. They were so in sync–PJ felt like his boyfriend was almost inside of him, more like an imaginary friend than a real person. Then, he wasn’t real anymore, and PJ was alone. It made things harder, injecting himself, and his cam shows weren’t as exciting with just him on them, but that was alright. He was happy after all, he loved being a muscle freak, and now, he knew for sure that no matter where he went, everyone’s eyes were on him, and only him.

***

Trax couldn’t have been happier with the result, and he had to admit, watching PJ whore himself out on cam in VR over and over again had been a great thing for him to watch, but he felt like one more round was needed to finish him off. After all, while it had been fun manipulating Perrion in the office before, this new man wasn’t going to be working in an office at all. No–he needed a different sort of vocation, he thought, and one more copy to train him for a new life ought to help.

So, what’s our final stage going to be here?

PJ works as a stripper and a whore
PJ becomes a skinhead gangs brute and sex pig
PJ becomes an old perverts live in sex toy

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The Bruiser Rapes – Case One (Part 1)

The Bruiser.

That’s what happens when the media catches wind of something like this, they need something catchy, a phrase that they can use to reduce the entire investigation into a second, something Pavlovian they can use against their audience. They say it, send that jolt of fear into the hearts of everyone they’ve been conditioning, and watch the eyes turn to them, and the money pour in. The Bruiser, fuck, what a fuckup that whole fucking thing was, right down to the interview, that really capped the whole thing off with a fucking cherry. Still, I’m getting ahead of myself. I told myself I would start at the beginning, leave this as a…final report, of a sort. I have a feeling I’ll need something like this, once this is all said and done. Once I finally find him, and I’m close. Closer than he thinks.

Me. Right now, as for most of my life, I’m Detective Adam Hoft, the lead investigator of the…bug-fucking crazy serial rapes of men in the city, of which there have pressently been four known cases. I regarded myself as jaded, I thought I had seen everything, but this shit–this shit defies reason. All of it. I can’t explain some of the things I have seen in the course of this case, and I don’t think I ever will be able to explain it until I finally catch this crazy fuck…but I gotta be honest, I’m fucking terrified of him, and you should be too. That Pavlovian shit? Good. Be terrified of him, lock your doors, observe the curfew, because the few details you know? You don’t know shit. But let’s start at the beginning, like I said, with the first victim, Bernard Goldwell.

On the morning of September 24th, the precinct 911 received an anonymous call from a cellphone, which ended up being a burner, about a rape victim. The speaker gave the address twice, and then hung up without answering any of the questions asked by dispatch. I myself wasn’t called in until around noon, once the cops who responded to the call realized they weren’t dealing with something…conventional.

When the officers arrived at the small house the caller had identified, they found the door unlocked, and entered. The building was empty, but down in the basement, the officers found a man, later identified as Bernard, sleeping on the concrete floor wearing nothing other than a thick metal collar, which was attached to a heavy metal chain, attached to a stake which had been driven into the brick wall of the basement. He was dehydrated and disoriented, and for several minutes he demanded the officers get “Master”, that he needed him, screaming for him, attacking anyone who tried to get close in order to free him, telling them that if he got free, Master would be furious.

Like I said, hardly a conventional case, and I’ve seen some strange shit before. I was called in, and conducted my first interview with him down in the basement, still in the collar and chained to the wall–and still completely naked. It was…hell of a first impression, and I could see why some of the officers initially thought this must be some elaborate prank, because Bernard did not seem to be the kind of person you would expect to get raped.

Now don’t misunderstand me, I know that men can be, and regularly are, sexually assaulted, but there are some kinds of guys that you don’t think would go down easily–and Bernard appeared to be one of those sorts of guys. He was big–several inches over six feet tall, and burly. Hell, more than burly, he was built like a brick shithouse, as my dad would say. Thickly muscled, with a thick layer of fat, lots of hair–a real man’s man, if you get the picture. Not the sort of character you might associate with being chained down in a basement, calling out for a master.

Still, by the time I arrived, he had gained some coherence, though he still refused to let any of us unlock the collar. It had to stay on, he told us. Master had told him it had to stay on, and so on it would stay. We chatted a bit, I got him comfortable with me, and then I started probing…but his answers were…well, a bit unbelievable. He didn’t know how long he had been down in the basement, but he guessed it had been several days. In fact, when we nailed down the timeline later, we determined he had been held captive for almost ten days, all told. I asked him if he knew where he was, and he said that he did–that this was his house. He lived here alone, but when I asked him who had done this to him, and how he’d gotten in (since no one had found any evidence of forced entry) he clammed up.

At first, I thought he was just ashamed. After all, ten days locked down in a basement can do strange thing to someone’s mind, but it wasn’t that. I asked him a few other questions, and he gave clear answers, showing he obviously remembered what had happened well enough, but when it came time to ask him who had done this to him, and what he had done, he would go vague and try and tell me he didn’t remember anything, which I could tell was bullshit. Then, one of the other officers who was looking for evidence upstairs, found the photos.

They were photos of Bernard Goldwell, but the man in the photos was most certainly not the man down in the basement. We went looking for other things, and found his wallet in the pocket of some pants upstairs in the master bedroom, and sure enough, the man on the license was the same man in the photos, which is to say, we all assumed that the man down in the basement was not, in fact, Bernard. No–the picture was of some young fellow, easily a foot shorter and a hundred pounds lighter than the man down in the basement, with no beard, and no hair to be seen.

Masturbation Workout [Pics]

Evan didn’t want to be fat, but he also didn’t really want to do anything to lose it either–or at least, nothing that felt like work. He was a slacker, and a gamer, and as far as he was concerned, being fat was just the price he had to pay, in order to live the life he wanted. He worked an easy job from his apartment as an editor, and spent the rest of his downtime gaming–well, that and masturbating. He didn’t exactly have much of a sex life, since he didn’t even leave the house most days, but he liked his hand more than the few women he’d been with anyway.

Of course the ad seemed too good to be true. “Lose weight doing what you’re good at! Jack off and lose the pounds at the same time!” The first time he saw it on one of his porn sites, he laughed out loud, and didn’t think about it again, until it kept popping up. Eventually, the curiosity got the better of him after a quick wank session, and he clicked on the ad just to see what it was offering–and the site seemed to be just that–jack off to their porn stream, and the pounds would literally cum right off. There was no explanation of how in the world this was supposed to even work, but the site did offer a free trial…so the next time he got horny, he accepted the offer, and after a moment, the site started a slideshow–a rather…rapid one, and one which contained only men.

The site hadn’t given him an option for whether he wanted gay porn or straight porn, but this definitely wasn’t what he was into. He tried to close the window, but it refused, saying he hadn’t finished his workout yet. He spent another minute trying to escape it, and then he found himself getting drawn into the slideshow, and then, a minute later, he had his cock out, and was happily masturbating to the men on the screen.

He lost track of time–and of how many times he shot. He also didn’t think about where he was shooting, he just kept unloading all over himself until, at last, the slideshow stopped, the site said he’d finished his workout, and told him to subscribe. Only after he’d put in his payment information, and signed up for a daily workout regimine, did he finally come back to himself, disgusted, and horrified to find he’d been masturbating for nearly an hour straight. One thing he knew for sure, was that he was never going anywhere near that site again–he closed the window, and went to take a shower, unaware that he was a couple pounds lighter already.

But Evan quickly learned he didn’t have much of a say in what he did with that site, now that he’d subscribed. Every day, he’d get a notification reminding him to workout, and unable to stop himself, he would navigate to the site and watch another slide show, jacking off constantly, only regaining control after the session had ended. To his horror…he actually found himself enjoying the sessions. He’d finish them, covered in cum, and feel a…rush, or a high, and just loll in his own cum, rubbing it into his clothes–no longer bothering to shower after. The results were apparent after a couple of weeks. He really was losing weight, and he could barely believe it. It seemed like a price he was willing to pay, and so he kept at it–but then things started getting…strange.

The workouts got longer for one thing. One hour became two, two became four, four would occasionally be six. The men in the sideshow were changing as well. At first, it had been fairly generic men, models, pornstars…but lately, they had been taking on a certain different flavor. Skinheads featured prominently, as did men in workwear. Grungy men, dirty men, piss play and rubber and leather. He was hornier outside of his workouts, and would search out more porn like it to jack off to, thinking about what it might be like to shave his own head…until he came to from a session and discovered he was totally shaved, from head to toe.

More changes came, usually during longer sessions. Tattoos in particular. He was getting rather trim now–he could barely believe it, how much weight he’d lost in a few months. His old clothes had disappeared, replaced by new gear that better fit his new body, all of it like the gear he saw on the skinheads on the screen. To his pleasure, even as his cock and balls had…grown. His balls especially–each was the size of a orange now, and he leaked almost constantly. There was no longer a time when he wasn’t horny–gaming was no longer of interest to him, all that mattered was self gratification.

Well, that, and the men on the screen.

They were all of a similar type now. Fat, dirty skinheads, mean fuckers, covered in tattoos and piercings, wearing leather and rubber. He found himself admiring them, envying their size. Imagining himself on his knees, licking their guts and cleaning their boots, drinking their piss. The knock on the door startled him one evening–he hadn’t left the apartment or seen another living person in weeks now, and he had no idea who it could possibly be. He…knew he had to answer it though, and who he saw in the hall took his breath away.

“Hey mate–nice tah finally meet ya. I’m your sponsor–or rather, your…”

“M-master,” Evan muttered.

“Exactly,” the huge brute said, and pushed his way inside. “I think you’re done with those silly workouts now–how about you get some experience with the real thing?”

Digital Manipulation (Part 5) [Interactive]

Yeah, Trax liked the idea of giving Perrion some muscle a lot. Now that Perrion had been taken down a few pegs, and he wouldn’t be working an office job again in his…virtual life, it was time for him to update his physical appearance a bit. Thankfully, he wasn’t going to be limited by his current body, because Perrion wasn’t much to look at, honestly. Short, rail thin–took care of himself, and was always so focused on his presentation, looking down on anyone who ever looked a little messy–like Trax always had. In fact, he thought part of the reason Perrion had been with him was because Trax made him look better by comparison (and humble, for being willing to date someone so obviously his lesser). Well, Trax would make Perrion exactly the kind of man he hated–big, muscular, stupid, ugly–nothing more than a dumb brute laborer. He found the scenario and loaded it up, triggering it to start up when Perrion’s mind woke from processing the last scenario and encoding it into his memory. It would take about as long as a night’s sleep, so in the morning, Trax would be up, and excited to watch what happens next.

Perrion awoke with a start, unsure of where he was, or what was happening to him. He…could remember something, something about work, and a bar, and…and he didn’t know what else. It was in his head, he could feel it in there, but there was something blocking him from accessing it, like his mind kept telling him it wasn’t important. But that also meant there wasn’t much…there. He needed to get up and…go to work, tight? Or do something? But his mind was just blank, laying there, until someone rolled over in bed next to him. “Well, how about we get started?”

Perrion gave a shout and nearly fell out of the bed. Next to him…he was a stranger, and yet also so…familiar. “Who…who are you?” he stammered.

“Me? I’m Perry–you know me,” the man said, and got out of the bed. He was larger than Perrion, and a bit taller, thickly muscled with a thick coat of hair–but not much cock at all, he noticed. His hair was short, and he had a short beard…but then Perrion realized why he looked so familiar–it was because…because they were nearly twins. It was like he was looking at an alternate version of himself, from some other world, but as soon as he realized that, the thought was gone, locked away behind the same barrier as everything else, and he was just looking at Perry–his…boyfriend. His…alpha. “Now get up–we need to get going with the day.”

Perrion did as he was told–in fact, he did everything Perry told him to do. They had a hearty breakfast, more than Perrion ever would have eaten normally, and then they went to the gym. Perry forced him through a grueling workout, one he barely managed to keep up with, but Perry demanded it, and so he did it, he did everything. It seemed like it lasted for hours, and then they went and home again, and they ate another massive meal, before lazing away the rest of the afternoon on the couch, watching TV, with Perrion spending a lot of time and energy keeping Perry happy–bringing him more snacks, toying with his small dick, tasting and smelling him–then they went to bed, and the next morning they woke up, and they did the same thing all over again–huge meals, a massive workout even harder than the last, and another afternoon and evening spent in front of the TV.

He lost track of the days, and he lost track of himself. Everything blurred together, and the only thing that seemed to hold focus was Perry. Perrion noticed that he was…changing, somehow, in the mirrors of the gym. He would look at himself, and see Perry where he should be for a moment, before separating them apart again in his mind. Perry became…clingy. On the couch, he would always have his arm around Perrion, pulling him in, drawing him closer in bed, waking up in a tight bear hug, like Perry was trying to absorb him. Or perhaps, it was the other way around.

He could almost hear Perry’s words in his mind, even before he spoke them. Perrion knew what he wanted, what he needed to do, even before Perry had to say it. The workouts became easier, and he began to enjoy them. He ate more and more, feeling his frame filling out to match his boyfriend, and the TV which had seemed so idiotic to him before was now…engrossing. He would fiddle with Perry’s small cock, and feel his own respond in kind, both of them orgasming in tandem. He didn’t know when he realized that Perrion had disappeared entirely, but at some point, he did. He was just Perry now, a muscle bound, unwashed pig of a man, satisfied with his own base gratification, and unable to remember a time when he’d been anyone else. Just like Trax had wanted.

But Trax wanted more. That was just the introductory persona, after all–Perry was going to have a new boyfriend in his bed soon enough, once these new habits were sufficiently ingrained after another few repetitions. He’d have a whole new set of habits ready to program into him then, he just needed to decide on what.

So, what sort of spin is Trax going to put on Perry’s now muscular lifestyle?

Steroids, silicone and body mods–make him an exhibitonist freak
Cum, sweat and piss–make him a cumdump urinal
Cigars, booze and masturbation–make him an addicted loser

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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.

A Demon’s Blessing (Part 2)

The demon bent down and kissed him, sliding a forked tongue between Marcus’ lips, and he couldn’t help himself–he allowed the demon to invade him, closing the gap between them, allowing the demon to wrap its arms around him, pull him into its heat. Something…in him had changed. Something else. There was a fire inside him, a deep, aching desire for…for more. The demon toyed with him for a few minutes, teasing him with how sensitive his flesh had become, and then pushed Marcus to the wall, ass out, got down behind him, and began licking at his hole. The tongue…wormed into him, opening him up in ways Marcus had never experienced, sending his mind slowly giving way to pleasure and lust. “F-Fuck me,” he moaned, “Fuck me–change me. Give me what I want, demon.”

“As you desire, mortal,” the demon said, and stood back up, gripping Marcus’ hips with both hands, his nails digging into his skin, and he pushed the head of his cock against the mage’s hole.

This, he expected to hurt. But it did not. The cock slid right into him, like it belonged there, with such sublime pleasure that Marcus’ own cock began to spill its own stream of cum. He looked down, and saw his own cock was throbbing, and growing–and the cum…it was so bright, and white. It almost sparkled in the light of the candles around the room. The demon reached around and pumped Marcus cock, pulling him tighter, its cock sliding in deeper still. He could sense that…something was wrong, that something in him, was wrong, but everything felt so…good, that he couldn’t begin to separate anything out.

“That’s a good mage. Spill that seed, empty yourself out all over the floor. For every drop you spill, I will fill you up with twice as much–and mine is much, much more potent.”

The pain was returning, and this time was even more intense. Something else had happened to him though–he wasn’t afraid of it anymore–he was almost craving it. Every pulse of his muscles, every new layer of bone, every stretched tendon and frayed ligament. It hurt, yes, but suddenly his body received that as a deep, overwhelming pleasure. The demon’s thrusts were still fluid and smooth, sliding in and out of him like it belonged there, one hand still milking his own cock, spilling it’s beautiful seed out in a steady stream, and that fire inside him, that lust, it was growing hotter. He didn’t know how to describe it, either–it didn’t seem to have a point where it resided, beyond somewhere in his chest, like the demon had planted a red hot coal right between his lungs, or behind his heart, or down in his stomach. All he knew for certain was that it was growing more and more intense, overshadowing the pain in his muscles and bones now. “I…no, this…this isn’t right…” he moaned, and tried to gett his body to push back from the wall and get away, but all he could succeed at doing was pushing his ass back into the demon’s thrusts, feeling his own cock leaking faster.

“This is what you wanted mage, now cum. Release it all from yourself, and everything you ever wanted will come true, I swear it.”

The demon had him. Marcus didn’t know when it had happened. Perhaps it had been this entire time, the beast stringing him along, making him think he was in control. The demon was stroking faster now, and Marcus could feel his balls contracting, pumping, and he exploded with a scream. The orgasm held no pleasure for him, just a deep, soul crushing pain and terror he had never experienced before in his life. Ropes and ropes of white cum shot from the head of his cock, and with each load, he felt emptier, and weaker, and filthier, and hornier, until it finally ceased. The demon slid free, and Marcus collapsed in the midst of his own cum, his body shaking. The fire wasn’t gone. It was raging. It was burning up inside of him like an inferno, and he rolled over and stared at the demon.

“Rageroth, I banish you,” he spat–but nothing happened. The demon just stood there, inspecting the nails of one hand, and then looked down at the mage lying on the floor before it’s feet.

“My my, it seems the little mage has…lost all his mojo.”

Marcus’ eyes went wide, and he turned to the puddle of his own cum, evaporating into the air, and crawled to it, scooping some up with his fingers, but when he touched it to his tongue he let out a howl of pain, and spit it out across the wall, along with dark, bloody bile from his throat.

“Not just your mojo, of course. Your innocence. Your soul. Nothing vital, of course, nothing I can’t replace,” the demon walked over to him, “Do you feel it? The corruption inside you? It’s so very, very hungry. It’ll consume you before too much longer, leave you as pile of ash in here for some mortal to discover. Of course, I could help you–but why would I want to? You tore me from my home. Your hubris is disgusting to me, begging me to use my power to make you into a man. Well you got what you wished for–for a few hours at least.”

Marcus watched the last of his cum evaporate from the floor. He could feel it now–his magic, it was gone. The incubus had literally fucked it all out of him. Knowing the demon’s name meant nothing if he had no power to use against him–and soon, he wouldn’t have anything at all. Looking down at himself, he saw that the demon was right–he had the body of his dreams, not that it would matter much, soon enough. It was…hard to breathe, like the air in his lungs was beginning to smolder. He coughed, a bit of smoke emerged from his throat.

“You’re lucky, really,” the demon said, “While others would have found your hubris insulting, I find it…rather charming. Perhaps I should keep you as a pet–after all, you did enjoy my cock so much, and that hole of yours…while not perfect, it was really rather lovely.” Marcus tried to stand up, but the demon shoved him back down onto his knees, his massive cock inches from his face yet again. He…wanted it. He knew it would bring him no salvation, but he wanted it all the same. “So let’s make another deal, mortal. Become my sex slave, for all eternity, and I’ll spare you what I promise to be a very, horrific death. And after death as well, I should mention, since your soul is claimed by me. Perhaps, once your dead, I’ll banish you to where you were planning to send me?”

“Please…please no, I beg of you, I’ll…I’ll serve you, I’ll be your slave. Do what you want with me, I won’t fight,” Marcus said.

He looked up at the demon, who was looking down at him with a smile. “But why, little mortal? Aren’t you afraid of what I might do to you?”

Marcus shook his head, “No–No, I…I want it. I need you inside me, I can’t bear being empty anymore, please, please fill me with your cock, and your seed, twist me as you want, but I…I’m so…horny…”

A Demon’s Blessing (Part 1)

“Do we have a deal then? You know I could do much worse,” Marcus asked.

The incubus in front of him just chuckled. It was…such a sweet laugh, and Marcus felt his heart flutter slightly, but he resisted the pull. The demon would want nothing more than to trick him–he knew that, but he had prepared as best he could, guarded his mind from the various tricks it could use against him. The demon had already been impressed by his work, since he hadn’t been able to bend Marcus’ will at the first word, and have him on the bed, pleading for a rough fuck. Besides, he had the most important thing–he had the demon’s name. He could enslave it, if he wanted). He could banish it forever. He could take it apart–after all, various demonic essences could fetch a high price on the black market. But no–Marcus only wanted one thing, the one thing he’d never been able to get, and that only an incubus such as this could provide. Beauty, strength, vitality–some spells could manage it, but Marcus had no talent for them. He was a summoner, and you made do with what you had. Besides, you had to have something work with, for spells like that to function–and Marcus had little of anything. Five foot two inches, 120 pounds, frail and weak and sickly his entire life. But he wanted more.

After a moment, the incubus nodded, “Very well. I suppose I don’t have much choice, in any case. I can give you what you desire, mortal. I can give you the body and life you’ve only had in your dreams.”

“Then do it, and be gone from my sight.”

“Well, there is only one way I can do this for you, mage,” the incubus said, and slipped one red hand down its defined torso. “I’m just not sure that you’re going to enjoy it,” it thought a moment, “Actually, I know you will enjoy it quite a bit if you allow yourself the pleasure.”

Marcus had been worried about this possibility.

“After all, if you want a demon’s blessing, mortal then you’re going to have to accept a demon’s seed.”

It was too risky, he knew that. But if he backed out now, then all of the other risks he’d taken, all of this work would be wasted. Besides, he’d prepared for this. The spells of protection he cast before should be enough to withstand any…negative consequences the demon might try to sneak past his guard.

It was stroking its cock now, and leering at Marcus. The thing was…attractive, on the surface. But few things from the demonic realms were what they appeared to be, once you dug a little deeper. As Marcus watched, the lithe, muscular frame the demon had first presented him began to warp, growing larger and thicker, bulging with muscle, black hairs erupting across the chest, abs, arms and legs–and the already thick cock grew even larger. Marcus was very straight, and yet he couldn’t help but find the demon incredibly erotic. That was their design, after all, but it was no less disconcerting. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to see such a thing without any protection against it. “Something like this, correct? I can see your desires, even if I can’t make you act on them. Now come. Drink.” The demon milked the cock, squeezing it and moaning, and thick cum bubbled at the head, drooling down onto the floor.

Marcus stepped forward, mentally checking all of his precautions, and then got down on his knees before the incubus. He looked up at the things dark eyes, and then took the head of the things cock in his mouth, and drank. It was hot against his tongue, and tasted sweet, with a slight bitterness, like some otherworldly nectar. He gulped it down, and it seared his throat, pooling in his stomach, the heat spreading out and infusing his body. The eat only increased, his muscles throbbing, bones aching, and he felt himself begin to grow. The pain would have been tolerable, had it been localized to a single part of his body, but he felt it everywhere. He let out a scream, opening wider, and the demon rapped two hands around his head, gently, and slid a bit more of the cock into his mouth.

“Don’t forget, mortal. You asked for this. I’m only giving you what you want.”

He choked, feeling the demon’s cum spurt from his nose and dribble down the front of his face. The flow was only increasing, and he could no longer swallow it all–it ran down the sides of his mouth and down onto his body, steaming and smoking wherever it ran. It was hotter, and with his hands, he tried to spread it out to keep it from burning him, but as he did, the cum was absorbed into him, and began to itch. Hundreds of tiny hairs erupted from his chest and arms where the cum had stuck, making him shudder and scratch at his body, eyes looking up at the demon, pleading for it to end, and the demon slipped the cock free of the mage’s mouth and stepped back.

It was all Marcus could do to stay upright on his knees, and not simply crumple up into a ball on the floor and sob. The pain was ebbing away slowly, and looking down at himself, he could see he had changed, but how much? He planted one foot under him, and then the other, pushing himself up to standing, and found himself raised to a much higher point that he had been before–but not as high as he’d wanted. He had, likely, gained about six inches–and packed on close to fifty pounds of muscle mass, with quite a lot of hair, but he was still short. He was still…small. Smaller than the demon standing a few feet away from him, observing him with a practiced air of detachment. “You seem disappointed, mortal.”

“I want more,” Marcus said. “I want to be at least as large as you are now.”

“You were begging for me to stop–it didn’t seem like you have what it takes to be with me willingly. Besides, whatever spells you’ve used to protect yourself are muting the effects. The fact that you desire it helps…but I can only do so much if you won’t allow me inside you,” the demon approached him, and ran one slender finger between the ridge of his new, hairy pecs, and watched Marcus shudder, “It does seem that you want more though–and my fate is in your hands. I can’t allow you to be displeased, now can I? It isn’t in my nature.”

Acceleration (Part 9)

They were ok. They were really ok! Russell looked down at the watch, only for it to smoke and spark suddenly, and they both rushed to get it off him and toss it away, where it gave a few pops, the screen cracking–but at least it didn’t explode. But a moment later, there was an odd flicker in reality, and it completely disappeared. Whatever it had done, there was no going back, it seemed–not that either of them was interested in that possibility. They were here, together, and that’s what mattered most.

Looking around, it was clear something had changed. The couch they were sitting on was, well, massive–Russell could sit on it well enough, though it was still a bit too large for him, and for Finn, he would have looked like a kid sitting on it. There was, however, a second sofa across from them with proportions more…appropriate to his size. The ceilings were higher by several feet–nearly thirteen or fourteen, most likely–but that was all Russell had a chance to notice before he heard the garage door open, and he realized their fathers were home.

Wait–fathers? From the confusion on Finn’s face, it was clear he was wondering something similar. Finn hauled himself free of Russell’s cock, still nursing his cum stuffed gut, and a couple minutes later, Russell saw a man he…somewhat recognized as his father enter the house–but he was, well, massive. Easily twelve feet tall, and completely naked–not that it much mattered. He had so much hair all over his body that he might as well have been clothed in it. His cock was easily three feet long, with a massive foreskin–and smell! It was like his own musk, but so much more intense. Looking over at Finn beside him, he was drooling and groping himself, before he struggled off the huge couch and waddled over to him, hugging him at the waist, humping at him. “I missed you daddy!” he said, and Russell’s father laughed.

“I missed you too, boy–but it looks like you and your brother found ways to entertain yourselves while we were gone,” he bent over and gave Finn’s belly a pat, throwing Russell a wink. “Looks like someone is finally getting frisky.”

Russell didn’t quite know what he meant, at first, but memories flooded in a moment later–how not even a year ago, he had been a little smaller than Finn, still waiting for puberty to kick in–and had it, in grand measure. In just a year, he’d become the massive man he was now–and his father assured him he had plenty more growing to do–he was already outpacing him, after all.

Behind his father, Russell saw a second, smaller man come through the door–who he recognized not only as his own dad now, in this reality, but as Finn’s old father as well. He was about eight feet tall, hips wide, gut distended, looking like a slightly larger version of Finn now. “Finn, I know you’re horny, but you can’t take advantage of your brother like that.”

“It was him!” Finn said, “He just smells so…good! Like…like daddy…”

“Do you need a ride on daddy’s cock, son? Seems like that’s the only thing that will settle you down,” Russell’s dad said, and looked back at his husband, “Puberty, remember?” He bent over and picked Finn up like he weighed nothing, and threw him over his shoulder before heading upstairs, and Finn’s dad shook his head, and walked over to Russell, only to get a funny look on his face as he did.

“What’s…what’s wrong, dad?” Russell asked.

“Damn–Finn’s right…you are smelling…ripe today.”

“Sorry…I can go shower, I’m just not used to it.”

His dad stopped him, and climbed up on him instead, licking at his pits. “No son–don’t…unless you don’t want to give your dad a good fuck, first?”

“Are…are you sure?” Russell asked, but he knew his dad never joked about this sort of thing.

“Come on–I got a good load from your dad at the store this evening–I’d love to feel the seed of the two men I love most in me together.” He got back down off the couch, and onto his hands and knees, “Now come on son, pump your slutty daddy full your that seed of yours–show me what kind a man you’re gonna be!”

Russell wasn’t going to object to an offer like that. Upstairs, he could hear his brother and other father moaning loudly in the bedroom, the rafters shaking slightly as they fucked–but Russell was enjoying his father’s ass too much to really notice. Fucking his brother was fun…but he just wasn’t very experienced. The things his dad could do with his hole–fuck, Russell might be topping him, but it was his dad calling all of the shots. Three loads later, his dad had had enough and sent Russell upstairs to shower. As he did, he had a difficult time believing–or even remembering–that things had ever been different. As far as he was concerned, everything was exactly how it should be.

Epilogue

The next Monday at school, everything felt like it was mostly back to normal, though some things were harder to adjust to than others. The fact that there were no women, most of all–just two types of men, though the line between them was…blurry. It was hardly uncommon, after all, to see a hulking, fifteen foot tall beast with a fill gut distended by cum. Or a (relatively) short fellow with a five foot cock, long enough to rest of the ground, smelling strong enough to bring even the largest of men to their knees in eager worship. Everything was so new, and everyone so strange, that at last, it was easy for Russell to feel, well, normal.

School, however, was strange. Mandatory showers to start the day, and every few hours, to help keep everyone focused on the tasks at hand. Still, it wasn’t uncommon to see students (and occasionally teachers) rutting in the halls, though it was preferred that such activities be restricted to the designated areas. It wasn’t until the afternoon that Russell saw Jack in the halls, and his jaw nearly dropped. Just under six feet, his hips were wide, his body smooth, and when he saw Russell standing there, the desire in his eyes was impossible to mask.

He waddled over, tugged Russell down by the front of his shirt. “You and me, the bathroom after school. You wanna?”

Russell smirked. Now that was the sort of invitation he could get behind.

Acceleration (Part 8)

“Russell, what…why the fuck do you smell so…fuck…” Finn moaned, and he started grinding against his friend’s massive body, sniffing deeper, licking at his sweat. “Please…we can’t…we can’t do this…”

“No–no, I’m taking orders from you. I don’t take orders from anyone, anymore. You do what I say now, and what I want, is for you to clean out my nasty pits. You want to do that too, don’t you boy?” Russell growled.

Finn tried to resist, but after a moment he gave in and licked faster, enjoying himself more, Russell telling his friend what a good boy he was, obeying his daddy like this. Finn hadn’t really managed to take in much of his friend’s new body, when he’d first entered the house–it had just been such a shock, seeing the nine foot tall brute waiting for him. Now though, he was starting to appreciate it all. How hairy he was, how amazing he smelled…and his cock. Russell wasn’t gay–or at least, he’d had sex with enough girls at school to assume he was straight, but this was something else. He didn’t want Russell because he was a man–or at least, that wasn’t the only reason. No–he wanted him because he was…superior. Better than him in every way. Worthy of his worship. Russell pulled his friend’s face free of his pit, and saw the look of pure contentment on his face. “T-Thank you, sir…” Finn muttered.

“You’re welcome boy–but I don’t think you’re done serving me, do you?”

Finn shook his head.

“Yeah, but you were a bad boy, doing something that I didn’t like. You aren’t going to try that again, are you? Or else I’m going to have to punish you.”

“Sorry sir, I won’t sir.”

“That’s very good to hear,” Russell said. “Now, my parents won’t be home for a while still, so why don’t you tell me everything you know about this watch? I think we’ll probably be able to figure out a solution that will make me happy, don’t you?”

Finn was much more agreeable after that, and so, he told Russell the story of the watch–which wasn’t really a watch at all. No–it was something much, much more powerful than that. It could change the physical characteristics of whoever was wearing it, in whatever way they desired. However, the family had to be careful to make sure people didn’t notice anything to extreme.

“So wait,” Russell asked, “What were you planning to do when you came back?”

“The watch…can warp reality in a limited sense. It can make changes seem normal to people–but we don’t know how it works. I don’t…think it could work for a change like this, its too big.”

“Well, have you ever tried?”

Finn shook his head. “But it’s…intense sir. The one or two times I’ve had to do it–and for small changes–I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“What’s the worst that could happen, really?”

Finn didn’t say anything for a moment, “I…I honestly don’t know what it would do to you, if it didn’t work. It could kill you. It could probably do something worse than that, too.”

Russell looked down at himself, at his massive frame, his thick cock which Finn was hugging with his arms, nursing the head and drinking his precum as he spoke. What could be worse than dying, really? As far as he was concerned, having to go back to who he’d been, the runt–that was the worst possibility of all. He’d do anything to avoid that. Could he…live with being smaller? No–no, this was all or nothing, but before anything happened, he…needed to know what it felt like, being inside someone. He stroked Finn’s head, “Do you want me to fuck you, boy?”

Finn nodded, but looked at the mostrous tool, “It’s…it’s so big, though.”

“I bet that watch of yours could help, don’t you?”

Finn’s eyes lit up, and Russell allowed him to put it on, fiddling with the settings, and he pushed the button in. Finn didn’t get larger, exactly, but his hips widened, his ass filling out with a thick layer of fat–and he assured Russell would have no problem getting inside him now, because Finn could take anything. Sure enough, ten minutes later, Russell was on the couch, Finn in his lap, moaning and grunting, the massive cock slammed deep in his guts. “Oh…Oh fuck it feels so good sir, fuck!” he said, grinding down further, his own cock leaking like a faucet.

“Of course it does boy–that’s where it belongs, right?”

Finn nodded, delirious, and Russell grabbed him under his arms and started lifting him up and down like it was no challenge at all. Finn just went limp with pleasure, eventually spurting a massive load of cum all over Russell’s chest, gut, and face. Russell picked up the pace, feeling himself getting closer until he dropped Finn all the way down to the root and shot, watching his gut actually expand slightly from the size of the load. Finn rubbed it, feeling his friend’s seed deep inside him, and then bent forward and licked up his own cum as well, enjoying the taste of it mixed with his master’s musk and sweat. Still–it was time.

Finn opened the admin privileges, and Russell put the watch back on his wrist. Finn calibrated it, and then started pulling himself fress of his master’s cock–but Russell pushed him back down onto it.

“But sir, if we’re still touching…I don’t know what the watch might do.”

“If this is the end, the last thing I want to feel is my huge cock in your guts boy–you feel the same, don’t you?”

Finn nodded, reluctantly, and soon enough, the watch was ready. It took…quite a while for it to calibrate, and Russell kept checking the clock, nervous about his parents imminent arrival. Finally, the button popped out, and after a final kiss, Russell pushed down the button, and everything around them came apart at the seams. It lasted a moment, according to the clock, but for the two of them, it was an eternity together, Russell’s massive cock buried deep inside him, and while they couldn’t remember much about it, it didn’t hurt, and when they came to, back on the couch, both of them erupted all over again, simultaneously, Finn’s already taut gut bloating out even further.

Acceleration (Part 7)

The house was silent for a moment, as he considered what to do next. Maybe…they would just go away. Did he want them to go away though? What if it was the same person who left the watch? They might know how to fix this! Did…did he want them to fix this?

No–he didn’t want that, he supposed. But if he knew more about it, maybe…maybe there was something else he could do about it, maybe a way to hide it, for the moment, until he can figure out what to do on a more…permanent basis.

The doorbell rang again. Whoever it was, wasn’t going away, apparently. He could at least go and see who it was, if nothing else. He went to the front door, trying to be as quiet as possible, but it was nearly impossible to keep his feet from thudding on the wood floor, the boards creaking under his substantial weight. He got to the door and crouched down, pressing his eye to the peephole, and was surprised to find Finn standing on the stoop outside the door, looking around nervously.

That wasn’t who he was expecting, by any means–why was he here? Did he want to try and apologize? Now was definitely not the time for that…even if Russell did want to show him what he looked like now. He could just see Finn’s mouth dropping open at the sight of him, he could…smell him, how turned on he’d get, and when he dragged him inside, shoved his face into one of his stinking pits–well, Finn would be more than happy to ride his cock before too long…

Russell recoiled from the door, unable to believe he was thinking this about his friend. No–he couldn’t risk it. Finn rang the doorbell again, impatiently–he obviously wasn’t going away, but he’d give up soon enough, right. Finn shook his head, pulled out his phone, dialed a number and Russell heard his phone start ringing upstairs–and Finn looked up. He could hear the phone through Russell’s open bedroom window.

“Fuck!” Russell growled, and Finn banged on door.

“Russell–did you get the gift I left you?” Finn said through the door, and Russell’s eyes went wide. Finn…left him the watch? He thought back again to that summer, and how Finn had come back looking like a whole new person. Had he used the watch too? “Let me in–we’ll get it sorted out, alright? You don’t have to be afraid, but I…I know you didn’t want to see me, so I left it for you here. I know…it’s not enough, and I shouldn’t have even taken it from my dad, but I wanted to help.”

It was Finn? He’s the one who’d left him the watch?

Russell found all of the pieces fitting together, how Finn had disappeared for that summer, and come back looking…well, looking like Russell had after just that first time using the watch. He must have used it too–that’s how he had changed. Finn would know how to fix this, he’d be able to get him back to normal! Well, or at least, more normal. One thing was for sure, thought–Russell was never going back to being runt, ever again. He unlocked the door, pulled it open, and was careful to hide behind it (as best he could) until Finn stepped inside, and then shut it. Finn turned, saw him, and his jaw dropped. “Oh…oh fuck, what the fuck did you do, Russell?”

“What the fuck do you mean? I used the watch!” Russell said. His voice was so…loud, he saw Finn flinch slightly. “Sorry…I…I might have gotten a little…carried away?”

“Carried away how?” Russell said, “I programmed it specifically to only run one program!”

“It just kept…working though.”

Finn stared at him. “Oh shit–it kept recalibrating, didn’t it? How many times did you use it?”

Russell just looked a bit sheepish, “I…uh, three?”

“God fucking dammit,” Finn said, and headed into the house, “Where is it? We have to change you back.”

“Hey now, hold on man–it’s not that bad!” Russell said. “I mean, I’m good! I just…I don’t know how to explain it to my parents, is all.”

“No, I can’t explain this to my dad, is the problem,” Finn said, “Let’s…look, we’ll change you back, and figure it out from there, ok? This was such a stupid idea, I knew this was so fucking stupid…”

Russell froze. There was no way he was going to go back to being that…that fucking runt! The watch was still in the kitchen–he chased after Finn, catching up to him in just a couple of strides…but what could he do? Well…there was one thing that had occurred to him, but…no–no, that wasn’t right. Still, what other choice did he have? He grabbed Finn by the back of his shirt and pulled him back, wrapping him in a bear hug, tight. “Fuck man, let me go!” Finn shouted, struggling–but Russell held him easily. He was so…weak compared to him, and that too, was getting him a bit horny.

“I’m not going back, Finn. You can’t make me.”

“Russell, I’m not kidding around!”

He spun Finn around, lifted an arm, and with the other, palmed the back of Finn’s head and pushed it into his pit. He struggled more, trying to get away, but Russell could…tell it was having an effect on him. “Just relax man, relax…”