Harrison Drake–Harry to his friends, and son of Theodore–was down in the den of the house, watching TV on that Saturday afternoon. His father had left for his golf game a few hours before, and his mother was out running errands, leaving him alone in the house, which he honestly preferred. Harry was a couple of years out of college now, and had imagined himself pretty much anywhere else beyond living with his parents at the age of 25. But while he’d landed a few unpaid internships, and the occasional side job, he hadn’t found anything that made him enough money to move out on his own, much less feel like he was going anywhere with his life. He just felt aimless–and his father and mother nagging him constantly didn’t help matters at all. He wanted change–but probably not the kind that the virus had in store for him.
Theodore had well-adopted the so called “internet of things” into his home. Everything from his lights, to his windows, to his door locks, to his speakers and TV were all hooked up to the wifi, and so, the virus had access to everything inside the house–and through it, Terrance was observing the lone Harry on the couch, snacking and staring at the TV, and considering what to do with him.
He was not an ideal subject for the virus. While he was infected, Terrance did not find much in his sexual proclivities that would allow the virus to take hold. Similar to his father, Harry had always been a bit of a prude, and didn’t look at much porn, even as a young man–but while Steve’s proclivities had accelerated and warped Theodore’s corruption, Terrance was going to have to start from scratch with Harry. If the virus was going to corrupt him and turn him into a proper carrier, he was going to have to change substantially.
Harry saw the screen of the show he was watching flicker once, and then the entire screen began to waver and shake. He reached for the remote, or at least he tried to reach for it, but discovered that his body was…frozen, or paralyzed. He couldn’t move a muscle, the virus had taken control of his motor functions, ensuring that it had all of his attention focused on the screen, as his show disappeared, and was replaced with pornography–gay pornography.
Harry was appalled at the sight of it. He’d always had a thing against faggots, thinking that they were all dirty, horny old perverted men looking to prey on younger men like him. The virus captured that idea from him, and the porn shifted, showing just that sort of filthy scenario on the screen, and the speakers around the room began to speak to him, telling him what a dirty old man he was, how much he loved looking at porn, the stranger and more obscene the better.
Harry resisted as long as he could, but the virus was stronger. His hand was no longer reaching for the remote, it was now wrapped around his cock, stroking it. He could hear himself moaning in pleasure and excitement, and as the minutes turned into hours, his moans got lower and lower as his voice dropped into a growl, the virus accelerating the aging process inside his body, advancing Harry into a middle aged man around the age of fifty. His mind was warped further and further, all the desire to be a normal, well adjusted, contributing member of society was replaced by new desires–to jack off and have sex of course, but first and foremost, to corrupt the handsome young men he encountered, and warp them into perverse, kinky sex addicts that were hungry for sex with a dirty faggot daddy like him.
When Terrance was finally happy with the result, the virus allowed Harry to cum, a massive load spurting from his achingly hard cock, arcing up onto his chubby belly, where his old hand rubbed it into his hairy gut, enjoying the sticky sensation, the stench of it, and he stood up from the couch and had a short stretch, looking at himself in the mirror. A little voice in the back of his mind told him that this wasn’t right, that he wasn’t supposed to look like this, with his grey beard, and sunken eyes, and shaggy receding hairline. But that wasn’t an important voice, it wasn’t the voice that mattered–there was a new voice, a horny voice, and it didn’t want porn today–it wanted something more…satisfying. Thankfully, the virus saw an opportunity, and gave it to him.
Here’s a few options for what Harry does next. Regardless of what path we decide to go down, I’ll try to work in as many of the kinks as people were interested in as I can! The bonus poll for patrons is over here as well.