Deal of a Lifetime (Part 6)

“Alright Daddy, *grunt*, how do I look?”

The cub had finished placing the order and was just sitting on the bed, wondering again how in the world he’d ended up here in this situation, when he heard the bathroom door open…but that voice–that wasn’t the same voice of the guy he’d brought with him. The words were distorted somehow, and while the voice was pitched higher, it was more gutteral. He got up from the bed and walked over to the short hall that lead to the hotel room door and the bathroom, and there, blocking the exit, was…he didn’t know what the fuck it was, but he let out a scream and backpedaled into the room. “What…what the fuck!” he managed to say.

Carmichael squealed and laughed and grunted at his sudden fright, holding his pipe in one hand so he didn’t drop it. “The look on your fuckin’ faces! Every fuckin’ time,” he started walking towards the cub, “What’s wrong daddy? I thought you wanted to play with a little pig tonight?”

“Stay the fuck away from me, you fucking freak.”

“Oh daddy, that’s so fucking sexy, fucking talk to me like that all night long, and we’re gonna have so much fucking fun.”

“I’m fucking serious! I don’t know what fucking game you’re playing man, but we’re fucking done! Get that fucking mask off, and get the fuck out of my room! You’re fucking sick!”

The pig groaned again and gave it’s cock a little stroke, “Fuck Daddy, that’s enough pillow talk–get over here and kiss your nasty pig, and let’s get the fun started,” Carmichael took a deep lungful of smoke and pushed it out into the room, watching it fill up with a grey haze. The cub tried to get to the sliding door and out onto the balcony, but the smoke caught him first, making him cough and wheeze. The smoke was so sweet smelling, cloying even, but he couldn’t seem to get a full breath of air into his lungs, his eyes were watering–he hadn’t even noticed the pig walk over to him, shove him up against the glass. He tried to wriggle away, but not before the pig shoved it’s snout to his nose and mouth and exhaled even more smoke into him–he couldn’t help but inhale it, and once it was inside him…the world spun, and the only thing that kept him upright was the pig pressing into him, groping him, making him moan, making…making him want to…to kiss that snout, and…

He shoved the pig back, and Carmichael allowed him, watching the cub change as he coughed. His shorts blackened, growing longer even as they split along the crotch, becoming a pair of leather chaps, his briefs shrinking into a simple white jockstrap holding a sizable package. His shirt split down the center, and became a leather vest, but it affected far more than his clothes. The cub’s neatly trimmed goatee spread across his face, becoming a beard flecked with the first tinge of grey as the hair on his body filled in thicker, his abs disappearing under a definite paunch, which became a beer gut in less than a minute. Lastly, his shoes morphed into well shined boots, and leather gloves appeared on his hands, one of them holding a thick cigar that flamed into life, the cub bringing it to his lips and sucking in his own smoke. “What…am I doing? I don’t smoke?” he said, exhaled a plume through his nose, and immediately took another drag. His own cigar was harsher than the pig’s pipe tobacco, but that seemed…right. He was rougher than the pig, yeah, a rough daddy fucker. “What the fuck did you just do to me?”

“Nothing I didn’t want to do,” the pig said, approaching slowly. The cub’s eyes were still filled with disgust, but now alongside that was a sudden urge to dominate, to fuck rough and brutal. “How’d you like your first taste of your pig, daddy?”

“You fucking disgust me…I don’t…know what you did, but fucking fix this, you fucking piece of shit, or I swear to god I’ll beat your ass to a fucking pulp, hog.”

“Such a sweet talker,” Carmichael said, pressed himself to the cub again and kissed him…and as disgusted as he was facing this ugly pig thing, the cub’s new instincts took over, shoving his tongue into the pig’s snout, sharing and swapping spit, spinning the thing around and shoving him up against the wall, grinding up against it’s belly. The pig’s skin was…soft and supple, but didn’t feel like human skin…it was somehow thicker–it made shivers run up his back, but whether they were disgust or arousal he couldn’t tell anymore, and the more smoke they shared, the less it mattered to him. The pig was disgusting, it made his stomach churn, but somehow that just made him want him even more.

“I…can’t stop…” he moaned into the pig’s mouth, before running his tongue down to his chest, tasting the pig’s hide for the first time, running a gloved hand over the pig’s strange cock, wondering how it would feel in his mouth, but Carmichael pushed him away, walked over, and bent over the bed.

“Now, now daddy–dinner first. How about an appetizer before our food arrives? Show this pig what a dirty daddy you are.”

“You want me to fuck you? You fucking piece of shit?” the cub said, walking over.

“No no, not yet daddy. I said eat,” the pig reached back and spread it’s cheeks, revealing it’s pink hole, curled tail swishing with anticipation, and the cub’s realized what the pig had meant. But no–no, he couldn’t. It would be so…so fucking gross, and…and disgusting, and yet that only made him want it more. Maybe just a taste, just a little one. His knees buckled, and he crawled over to the pig, Carmichael encouraging him the whole way, and after a whimper and groan of fear, unable to process what was happening to him, he dove in and started eating out the pig’s ass like he hadn’t eaten in days–and when the pig let loose the first fart, all remaining doubt disappeared into the ether.

Deal of a Lifetime (Part 5)

The elevator ride was silent. Carmichael was staring at the young man, one hand fiddling with the pipe and pouch of tobacco in his breast pocket. The young man was decisively staring anywhere other than at him, but he was sweating a bit under the older man’s stare. The old fuck was obviously a bottom, given how he’d acted down in the restaurant, but a part of him didn’t feel like he was the one in control of the situation, and wanted to abandon ship and run, but the hard cock in his shorts–fuck, he’d never been so disgusted by someone as much as this fuck, and he’d never known that disgust could be such a fucking aphrodisiac. He could give the pig a dirty rough plowing, and then send him on his way. He certainly wouldn’t be telling any of his friends about this, and he’d hook up with someone hotter later, so he could feel normal again.

“I never did get your name, sir.”

“You’re not getting it, pig. I don’t want to know you.”

“Then I suppose I will just have to call you daddy then.”

The cub blushed at the thought of this man at least thirty years his senior calling him daddy. What the fuck was he doing?

The elevator dinged, and they emerged on the cub’s floor. He led Carmichael down the hall to his room, opened it up, and went inside. “Alright pig–get naked, and get on the bed. No talking–I just want to get this over with.”

Carmichael let the door shut behind him, and chuckled, “No–here’s what we’ll do. You go ahead and call room service and order us some food. You can bill it to my room, 823. I don’t quite think I satisfied my sweet tooth yet, so focus on the desserts, daddy.”

“You fucking–” he sneered, “You’re still fucking hungry? No–this is a quick fuck, I’m not playing into your fucked up fantasies anymore. You want my dick? Get on the bed or get out.”

“My fantasies?” Carmichael said, moving quick for his size, pressing himself to the cub, feeling a shiver run through the young man, “I know how much you liked stuffing me down in that restaurant. Besides–it’s surprisingly easy to work up an appetite when you’re playing with a pig like me, so you might want some too. Now, call room service while I freshen up and get ready for you, daddy.”

The cub backed away, and walked over to the phone, unable to believe what he was doing. He wasn’t really doing this. He didn’t actually want to do this, did he? No! No, he…he didn’t, and yet…and yet he was thinking about what it was like downstairs, how much he’d fucking enjoyed watching the old fuck struggle to chew while he shoved food in his face…Fuck, maybe he did want this. It was just…curiosity, he told himself, waiting for room service to connect, looking at the menu, thinking about what would be fun to stuff in someone’s face.

Carmichael hadn’t stuck around to see if the cub called or not–he knew he would. Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to. He went into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, pulling his piggy pipe out with a quivering hand, licking his lips. The little piggy was so eager to be out again, so eager to play. He took his time packing the pipe with his special tobacco–he wouldn’t want to ruin the moment with a poor draw. When he was satisfied, he lit the pipe, puffing gently, tasting that sweet smoke–he’d smoked this so many times, and yet this time felt…new, somehow. He took a deeper draw, his body reacting to the smoke, quivering and shifting in front of his eyes.

His body began to lose a bit of weight–never too much, he was still wonderfully plump–but enough to make moving a bit easier. His gut no longer sagged, but rested as a taut gut, a bit of muscle filling out his frame, giving him a huskier look with thick shoulders and an even thicker neck. His clothes, rather than becoming loose, shrank with him as he condensed until they were skin tight, the fabric picking up a bit of a shine under the bathroom lights. The color of the fabric darkened to a solid black, the shine increasing until he was clad all in rubber from sleeve to pant, and then the suit began to retract until all that remained was a skimpy, rubber singlet, the word “PIG” across the back in red letters, with an open crotch giving him easy access to both his piggy cock and ass. Fuck, that fucking cock!

It wasn’t human anymore–instead, emerging from the sheath, was a slimy, spiralling pig’s cock with two massive boar balls swinging beneath. His shoes had disappeared, but they wouldn’t have fit his new feet anyway, as they shifted into trotters, his footing a bit slick on the tile, but he adjusted easily enough, watching his face start to shift through the smoke of his pipe. Ears growing larger migrating up on his head a bit before flopping over. Nose and mouth pushing out into a short snout with two tusks on either side, and lastly, with a squeal, his tail pushed it’s way out above his ass. Just a fucking little pig, that’s all he fucking was–it was so fucking good to be free at last!

As the pig smoked and groped himself, the last changes swept over his body. What little hair he had on his body and head disappeared, leaving just a soft hide behind. His head was completely bald, and his mustache disappeared from the tip of his snout…but as the hair disappeared, his appearance youthened. The wrinkles disappearing around his eyes, his jowls pulling back in, moles and liver spots dimming and disappearing, leaving him a beautiful pink from head to toe. He was ready to play, and what a fucking good time this pig was going to have with that daddy tonight.

Deal of a Lifetime (Part 4)

The hotel was large enough that it served as an anchor for a couple of restaurants–the first was a much more highbrow affair, and while Carmichael simply knew he would have to sample it’s fair at some point this weekend, he decided on the other restaurant for his first meal–a more casual restaurant with a bar inside. His piggy was growing a bit restless, and he always had a better chance of finding someone for his piggy if he stuck out a bit. It was slightly early for dinner, but a number of other bears were there, scattered around the restaurant, most of them eating as well, but Carmichael neither joined them, nor found any of them particularly intriguing. He asked the hostess to seat him at a small table with a clear view of the concourse of the hotel, giving him a good view of men walking past–as well as giving them all a clear view of him. He ordered a bevy of appetizers for himself–including a couple plates of wings so he could make a mess of himself, and when they arrived, he ripped into the food–after tucking his napkin into his shirt like a bib. He’d never really been able to contain himself around food; the messiest side of himself always seemed to come out, no matter what he did.

The people around him kept glancing at him, a bit aghast at the massive man stuffing himself at the table there, and knowing how disgusted they found him made his cock harden and leak a bit in his slacks. He would occasionally look around and meet their stare, daring them to come over and say something, encouraging them to come play with him, but none of the men at the tables answered his desire. If anything, they seemed embarrassed, and by the time he moved onto his entrees he was becoming a bit discouraged–but then he walked by.

One of three young muscle cubs who were obviously acquaintances. They were all wearing some variation on shorts and tanks, displaying their wares, giving the men a peek at what they might find underneath if they were worthy. A great snort escaped from him, as he chowed down, loud enough to draw their attention, and while all three gaped at him in utter disgust, one of them in particular stood out to him. Finally, someone interesting. He locked eyes with him a moment, and unlike the others around him, he didn’t flinch away–he stared right back, the utter disgust apparent in his eyes, and he only turned away when one of the other young men got his attention, and they continued on their way–but Carmichael knew he’d made an excellent first impression–he’d be back soon enough.

He finished his three entrees and ordered a trio of desserts. With these, he took his time. He no longer needed to perform as grotesquely as before, now that someone had taken the bait. His cock was hard and quivering with excitement, but it wasn’t until the young man walked back past the restaurant–no longer in the company of his two friends–saw Carmichael still stuffing himself, sneered, and walked over.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you one of those fucking gainers? Is that what you’re fucking doing? Because it’s fucking disgusting, and you should be fucking ashamed of yourself,” he said, standing across from Carmichael.

The insult brought a sharp, erotic heat to his groin, and Carmichael moaned, mouth full of cake as he did.

“You fucking piece of shit, did that fucking turn you on?” he asked.

Carmichael nodded, slowly, watching the fury build in the young man’s eyes. Yes, he was going to be a good one.

“So that’s you’re fucking fetish? You like making a pig of yourself in public?”

“Oh, I can make a pig of myself in private too.”

“In your fucking dreams.”

“No–I know you want to. That’s why you walked over here, sir,” Carmichael said, “You get as much of a thrill from insulting me as I get from your cruelty. You want to punish me, don’t you? You want to abuse me, and humiliate me, and you’d love every moment of–”

The young man, rattled, picked up the rest of the cake and shoved it into Carmichael’s mouth, and he moaned, taking as much as he could, feeling the rest spread around his face, while the young man tried to figure out why his cock was so hard all of a sudden. He pulled his hand away, wiping it off with a dirty napkin, while Carmichael chewed the massive bite, and swallowed it. “Goodness sir, this pig wants to play with you real bad.”

“Fuck you. I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.”

“No sir,” Carmichael said, a strange sternness slipping into his voice, “We’re going to go up to your room, and you’re going to play with this little piggy, because that’s what you want. You want to abuse me, to use me, to rape me. Well here is your chance. What do you say, sir?”

The young man tried to speak, he tried to deny it, but…but it was true. He’d never once imagined having sex with someone who looked like this, this fat, old ugly fuck, but looking at him, standing right here, suddenly…it was all he could think about. “Get up then.”

“No sir–help me finish dessert first, and then we can go.”

“What?”

“Stuff my face like you’re going to stuff my holes. I know you want to. Show the rest of these people what a pig I am. Think of it as a warm up.”

So he did, standing there. He shoved the rest of the food on the table right into Carmichael’s mouth, listening to his grunt and snort, wondering what it the world he was doing–and when every plate was licked clean, Carmichael paid his sizable bill, left ample gratuity for the embarrassed staff, and the young man led him up to his room to play.

Stinkers – Eric’s Story (Part 7)

***WARNING*** SCAT

It took them both a while to get up to the dorm room itself, because Eric had to keep stopping, pushing Tom into alcoves so he could lick him and sniff him, delighting in his refreshing boyscent, already thinking about all the ways he was going to defile it once they got back to his room. If he had been clearer headed, he would have smelled what had happened in his room before opening the door, but the appearance of Tom had wiped every memory of Paul from his mind–so he opened the door and found his roommate rolling around in the middle of the room with the clothes he’d thrown out before, and the stench was horrific.

“Oh fuck–Paul?”

He didn’t respond to his name–but he did respond to the appearance of Eric’s musk, and Paul rolled over onto all fours and started crawling towards him, eyes void of all thought.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a pig!” Tom exclaimed, and got down to greet Paul, stroking and petting his back, “Who’s a good piggy?”

“No–No, this…I threw that shit out!”

“You’re pretty thin for a pig–hasn’t he been feeding you? Well don’t worry, I have something you can eat, piggy.”

Eric was frozen as he watched Tom stand up and drop his pants to his ankles before squatting down, Paul smelling what was coming and getting his face right into the boy’s crack as he bore down and shit, Paul devouring as much as he could right from the hole–and Eric watched as his scrawny roommate’s body started to throb, and then expand with fat, gaining about fifty pounds by the time Tom stood back up, letting Paul lick the floor clean of what he’d missed. Eric was horrified. He wanted to run screaming from the room, but the fucking smell of that boy’s shit was turning him on like nothing else. Before he could think about it, before he could stop himself, he grabbed the boy and shoved him to the bed, bent him over, got down and started eating out his hole, licking it clean.

“Don’t worry daddy, I saved you some too.”

Eric lapped the filth straight from the hole, thinking about all the times he’d fantasized about this in his life, all those drunk nights he shoved a finger in his hole, sniffing it, too terrified to taste it, but it was better than he could have ever imagined. When the boy was empty, he stood up again, licking his lips, hauled out his cock and shoved it into the boy’s hole, cumming almost immediately, but Eric could sense that was just the prelude to what would be a long rest of the night with this sweet boy.

A nose and mouth pushed it’s way between his ass as he fucked, licking at his own ring–the pig was obviously still hungry, so Eric let his own shit loose, the pig squealing with delight and devouring everything as Eric fucked, some small part of him horrified at his own behavior, at his own actions, trying to reel the last shreds of decency back in, but he could tell, now, that there was no going back from this, and so he plunged in deeper, listening to the boy cry out in pain and excitement at being abused by his daddy, and decided that, tonight, he was just going to enjoy himself first, and worry about what it all meant later.

“Daddy? Daddy! I’m home, and I brought some friends over!” Tom said, the glee in his voice apparent as he charged into his filthy house. Greg was in the living room watching TV, another young man who’d been living with Tom when Greg arrived between his legs, worshipping his cock mindlessly, like a good cumdump should. He pushed the thing’s head away and heaved himself up from the couch as Tom bounded over to him and gave him an eager kiss–the boy was sweet again, his mouth like honey.

Tromping into the room after him came Eric, though he barely even recognized himself, after the night before. He was close to six and a half feet tall, but had packed on a massive amount of weight–Greg had to guess he weighed close to 600 pounds. He squeezed into the largest clothes he’d been able to find, but the rolls of hairy, stinking fat cascaded out around them. He had a wild beard which had grown down to his chest with a streak of white down the center, his face looking quite a bit older than his prior age of twenty-three.

“I see you found him–did you apologize, boy?” Greg asked.

“Yes daddy–I apologized to him all night long.”

“Good boy–now go play in your room for a bit.”

Tom nodded, and scampered up the stairs, as Eric gave a tug and the pig came in behind him, a knotted rope leashed around his neck. Paul had gained a massive amount of weight as well, hulking up, teeth growing out into small tusks, his face and body caked brown. “I…uh…I wasn’t, tryin’ to, but it got a liking a my scent, ‘n…” Eric tried to say, but the words weren’t coming out very well. He’d woken up this morning, surrounded by the filthy scene he’d created with Tom and the pig (he couldn’t quite remember it’s name for some reason) and knew, he had to find Greg. “Can ya…fix ‘em? Can ya fix me? I ain’t…know what’s happenin’ tah me no more. Fuck, why’d I sound so fuckin’ stupid all a sudden?”

“Because you’re becoming the man you’ve always meant to be,” Greg said, “Ya should embrace it! Enjoy it!”

Eric didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know how to stop this anymore. His gut grumbled instead, twisting into hungry knots.

“Look, why don’t I stuff that fat face of yours–you’ll feel better after a good meal. Then, we’ll get back to getting you feeling like your real self. You’re almost there–just a few more days, and you’ll be a true stinker, just like me.”

Stinkers – Eric’s Story (Part 5)

Eric went back to his dorm room. Thankfully, when he got there, he found that his roommate was gone–he stripped out of the filthy clothes he was wearing, grabbed a towel, and marched straight to the bathroom down the hall, where he spend close to an hour in the shower, scrubbing himself down over and over, trying to wash away the memories of what he’d done over the last weekend, trying to wash away the regret and frustration as he cleaned himself, part of him just wanting to go back, to see what Greg was talking about, to…be the person Greg saw in him. But he couldn’t do that. He had responsibilities, he had things he wanted to do with his life. He wasn’t about to let himself get derailed by some fucked up stranger couch surfing with that boy.

He stopped, and corrected himself. With Tom. The boy’s name was Tom–no, he wasn’t even a boy! Why the hell did that word keep welling up every time he thought of him, every time he…thought about how good it felt, having his cock buried up his hole in that hallway?

His cock was hard and leaking, he was stroking it under the water without even meaning to. He forced his hand away, and turned the water cold, forcing himself to go soft again, and then stepped back out of the shower, grabbed his towel, and started drying himself off–and for the first time since arriving at that boy’s place (Tom’s place, it was Tom’s place!) he got a good look at himself in the mirror, staring at himself as he dried off, trying to figure out what seemed off to him.

The stubble was one thing for sure. Hell, it was a beard really. He’d always had a good amount of hair, but he’d never seen his stubble grow in that quickly. He found his shaving kit in his shower bag and shaved himself smooth again, rubbing his smooth cheeks and feeling immediately…sad. He had kind of liked it. Sure, it looked unprofessional, but…but beards were more normal these days. Maybe he should grow it out, and at least see what it looks like. It turned out, he didn’t have to wait long at all. Just standing there in front of the mirror, his smooth cheeks turned scratchy, and in less than a minute, the beard was back like he’d never shaved it at all. Unable to believe what he’d just witnessed, he shave again, and once more watched his face fill in with hair all over again. It was then that he noticed the rest of his body was no longer clean either, although perhaps not as dirty as he’d been before his shower–but he could…smell himself all the same, and it was difficult for him to resist taking a long sniff and just jacking off right there.

But the rest of him was different too–hairier for one thing, but he also looked taller and thicker than he remembered–his thighs a bit more blubbery and soft, his gut hanging a bit lower, his balls pendulous and swinging free below his thick…ten or eleven inch cock, which had a massive amount of skin hanging over the head–but he’d always been cut, hadn’t he? He explored it with a finger, finding the cheese thick inside, coating his finger and sucking it off before he could stop himself, before he could deny himself his own filth anymore, and then the door swung open, one of the guys on his floor coming in wearing just a towel, and Eric quickly wrapped himself back up in his own towel. What the fuck was he doing? He felt more than just out-of-sorts after his weekend with Greg, he felt somehow…corrupted.

He kept a good distance between him and the new guy, and left the bath, heading back towards his room, letting himself in and found his roommate–Paul–on the floor of their room on his hands and knees, face shoved into the pouch of Eric’s filthy jockstrap, snorting and huffing the fumes with long, loud snorts while he masturbated.

“Paul! What the fuck are you doing!” he shouted, and his roommate looked up at him, glassy eyed. Eric stormed over and shoved him away from his filthy clothes, bundled them up and left the room with them, heading downstairs to the dumpster outside the building and threw them in, before returning to the room, where Paul was panting and sweating on the floor, obviously shaken and disturbed by what had just happened. He was a slim twig of a young man, somewhat underdeveloped, and socially awkward. He’d been nervous when he’d discovered he was paired up with a football jock, but his awkward silence had paired well with Eric’s bashful reluctance, and the two had coexisted rather well until this moment, but neither of them could find any words they might use to talk about what had just happened.

“I…uh…gotta go study at the library for a bit,” Eric said, dug around for some clothes, but again, everything felt a size or two too small for his frame. He really was taller, and thicker, wasn’t he? It didn’t matter–Paul was staring at him with that same zoned out work, and he snorted again, and he needed to get out of here and away from him before he started listening to the voices roiling in his head, and did something he’d most certainly regret.

He grabbed his computer and his notebooks, ignoring the way Paul’s eyes followed him around the room, and left as quick as he could, heading across the campus to the library. Paul, meanwhile, felt his head start to clear a bit once Eric had left the room, but at the same time…there was something he needed. Something he could…still smell. He left the room, following his nose down and outside to the dumpster, hoisted himself in, and spent a couple minutes inside finishing what he’d started, snorting and jacking off to Eric’s stench, before climbing back out, the bundle under his arm, as he retreated back to their room to…indulge himself a bit more.

Still fighting, eh boy? Look how happy your two friends are, eating out daddy’s nasty pits. Fuck, they’re changing already, losing those nice clothes of theirs–they’ll be a couple of leather slaves here soon enough. One on the left–he’s gonna be a cute little cub, cock hungry, eager to please any man I take a liking to. That’s what he gets, for being first to give in–the privileged position this weekend. I’ll probably hand him off to some abusive fucker when I get bored, but trust me, he’ll enjoy it plenty–the more abusive the better.

Your other friend here? Yeah, let’s put a mask on him–a nice little pup, following me around, desperate to please. Yeah, look at that rubber tail wagging away–who’s a good boy? That’s right, you are, Sparky. If he’s really good this week, I’ll let him be human on the weekdays, and he’ll only go into full pup on the weekends hunting the alleys for a master–but if he’s a bad boy, maybe I’ll make him full dog, and he can be a stray roaming the streets when the weekend’s over–I guess that all depends on your behavior, right boy?

Now, that just leaves you, the final holdout. I told you, whoever gave in first would get the best deal, and whoever was last–well, lucky for you, I have one more place you can stick your face, pig. Oh? Did I hear a grunt from you when I said that? Yeah, you can smell it now, can’t you, you dirty fuck? Look at those knees buckle–that’s it, crawl right around there, and get that face of yours between my cheeks, you fucking hog.

Yeah pig, look how big you’re getting–400, 500 pounds? Play with that fat, feel how much it’s sagging, but you aren’t a boy, are you? No, you’re an old pig. A old, fat, small cocked, disgusting piggy. Reeking of piss, cum in your beard, you filthy fuck. No–you aren’t going anywhere with me, what makes you think I want a pig in my company? No–you stay right here in this alley–trust me, plenty of men will find you, and you’ll be ready to eat and drink whatever they give you, won’t you? I’ll be back at the end of the weekend, and we’ll talk about your future options, if you even remember your old life anymore. Now come on boy, heel Sparky, let’s go have some fun, and leave this old pig to enjoy his new life for a while.

Source: billthompson69

Cabin Pressure (Part 4)

“You have a pretty hot mouth, I have to say.”

They’d been sitting quietly for a few minutes, Jeff trying to sort out his thoughts and his memories, feeling his body, trying to understand how it could feel both so…new and strange and yet familiar at the same time. He could barely fit in the seat assigned to him now, and Brian had raised the armrest between them, meaning their fat bodies were now in constant contact–something which scared jeff to death for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, and which also excited him to no end–feeling each breath of the hot fucking man beside him–he’d really…lucked out, right?

“Hello? Earth to piggy.”

Jeff blushed, “Sorry, sir, I’m…glad you enjoyed it. I…enjoyed it too.”

“I could tell. Bet you’d like me to get my cock in that ass of yours too, right?”

Jeff nodded, humiliated that the people sitting around them could hear what he’d just said to him. Why was he doing this? Letting this fat fuck do this to him? He…honestly wasn’t quite sure what had happened to him, but something was different–no, something was wrong. This was wrong, he was in the wrong body, this wasn’t who he was supposed to be, and he…he couldn’t remember who he’d been at all. Fragments–workout equipment. A woman. A…roommate. That was clear–the roommate. Kevin. He stopped thinking about himself, and focused on Kevin instead. He’d met him at…at college? In the gym–no, on the wrestling team! He’d had to have gone to college, if he’d met Kevin! And Tiffany! He’d just visited her, he…he was sure of it, even if he couldn’t remember it. That…that meant that this wasn’t him–he couldn’t remember everything, but he knew that much.

“How about, when we get off this plane, we head to the bathroom and I give that hole of yours a good plowing? How does that sound?” Brian said, leaning against him gently, exerting a bit of his pressure.

Jeff instinctively started to lean away, to pull back, but then he leaned back in, applying some pressure of his own. “No–no, I’m not going to let you do this to me anymore. I don’t know what the fuck you did, but you’re going to fucking change me back!”

“Did to you? I didn’t do anything to you, pig. This is just who you are!”

“No it fucking isn’t. I…know that. I don’t remember everything but…but I had a roommate I met in college–yeah, college! I know I went there. And I know I just…was just with a girl in Paris, that’s why I fucking went there. I…I forgot her name, but she was there, I know she was there. This is some fucked up fantasy of yours, and I don’t know how you did it, but I know your game.”

“Oh?” the man said, grinning wider, leaning harder, “More fight than I expected. Still, you’re so far gone, there’s nothing you can do but make things worse for yourself, if you keep this up.”

“Fuck you, you’re a fucking liar.”

The man shrugged. “Alright, then, Mr. Fry Cook. Tell me, how did an fast food dead-ender like you manage to afford a European vacation?”

Jeff tried to talk…but he didn’t have an answer. Where did he get the ticket? How did he even get to Europe? On one hand, intellectually, he knew the missing piece was there, but the girl, his roommate, it didn’t fit with everything else in his head…and something else, some other glimmer was forming, the man leaning harder, Jeff losing ground, feeling himself pressing against the side of the plane. “I…I couldn’t afford it, not on my own. I don’t have any savings,” he blurted out. It was…true. But it wasn’t right.

“Of course not. But the guy you were chatting with about those things you wanted, the mods. You couldn’t find anyone state side. And when he offered to pay for your ticket, in exchange for complete willingness as a test subject…well, what choice did you have?”

Jeff was shaking his head, trying to speak, but he couldn’t quite get in a full breath of air. He was feeling lightheaded, desperately trying to keep from passing out again, trying to keep Brian from changing him again, trying to keep himself from connecting the dots that he was being told to follow, because he didn’t want to see what was at the end there. “Please…” he croaked, “I’m sorry, I’ll let you fuck me, I’ll let you do whatever, please…”

“But I’m curious, Piggy. I’m curious about what you needed him to do. What were you so desperate for, that you were willing to let a stranger buy you a plane ticket to another continent, so he’d do it to you? What was so hard to find, what was so perverted, that you couldn’t find anyone closer to you, who would do what you needed so badly, that you were willing to let him do whatever he wanted to you? How long were you with him? How long were you his play thing?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know!”

“Yeah, he kept you pretty well drugged, didn’t he? In that dungeon of his, kept in that cage, while you rested in between sessions? Probably a bit hard to remember the details, but I know that you know what you wanted more than anything else. What you were willing to give up your freedom for months to have done to you.”

“I’m not…You’re wrong.”

“It’s only going to get worse, if you don’t just admit it.”

“I…it…tattoos?”

“Oh, I know he was a talented artist, and I know he was excited at a thought of a canvas your size, but that–you could get those anywhere. No, what you needed was much more…taboo…”

Jeff could feel the pricks across his body, ink appearing all over his skin. It still hurt, but Brian was right, there was something else. He…he knew what he was supposed to say, but there had to be something else, right? Not that…he didn’t…really want that, did he?

“Say it pig, say it hog. Say what you begged the filthy pervert you met in Paris to do to you. Tell me what you needed, to finally feel at home in your own, disgusting body.”

Jeff had been holding his breath, knotting up his tongue. He wasn’t going to say it, he wouldn’t. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he passed out again, Brian chuckling, pressing harder, and Jeff dreamed again.

Asslickers Inc. (Part 5)

Jules didn’t like the sound of that. “Why? Are you just going to keep me here? As some fucking freak for you to play with?”

“Oh goodness no, you’re pretty much used up at this point I’m afraid. Testing is always better on a fresh canvas–I can get a better feel for the effects. That said, I can’t just keep you here–I’d be drowning in you fucks before too long, with the amount of testing I have to do to get these models ready for production. Still, you’re not completely worthless at this point, so don’t feel too bad. You can still test one of the biggies.”

“The biggies?”

“Oh yeah–these ones are real impressive. Some of my best work! Not entirely sure I’d be able to pull them off, when Arctos asked me for them, but they actually work quite well at this point. Now, you’re going to get a rather special one–a new combo I’ve worked out just last week, and I’m excited to see how it works.” He walked back to the wall, and returned with a sizable shaft, this one with a rather uneven texture, and colored a dirty, greenish brown. It didn’t look particularly appealing, and he certainly didn’t want it going in his ass at all. “What in the world does that thing do?”

“This one? Well, this is the grand finale! It’s part of a new line I’m calling assbreakers–it’s got two mystery flavors inside as well, which you’ll discover soon enough. Still, it’s late, and I’m tired, so let’s get this thing in you, and see if it works how I hope it will.”

“No, look, please–I don’t want to change anymore! You can have the money, just…I don’t know, don’t do this to me again.”

“Sorry Jules, but this is the last one. You’ll love it too–or at least, you should by the time we’re finished with it.”

“But I don’t want–” he grunted, as the thick shaft pushed into his loose hole. It wasn’t as large as the massive one had been, but when the taste flooded his mouth a moment later, he gagged, trying to spit it out. “Fuck, what the fuck is this? It tastes vile!” It was like someone had wadded up an extremely filthy and sweaty pair of underwear into his mouth, or like hi tongue had been glued to the armpit of that one gymrat who never wore deodorant and never wiped the machines down after he was finished. It was filthy, and he couldn’t escape it. Ari pushed it all the way in, and then started pistoning it in and out, eager to be finished with this. Jules noticed that he was starting to sweat profusely, all over his body–his hair becoming matted, greasy and tangled–and then he belched, the smell roiling up out of him in a thick cloud of gas, and he was appalled by it…and yet…enjoyed it a bit, too. Fuck, no, he wasn’t going to enjoy this, he wasn’t going to be some disgusting slob! He let of another belch, bigger than the last, and followed it up with some gas which slipped out around the dildo, Ari waving the stench away from his face.

“No, I’m not going to be some fucking disgusting slob, you twisted fucker!” he said, and belched again.

“Oh? Tell me Jules, when’s the last time you had a shower?”

“Just…I mean I think…” but his memory was failing him, because he didn’t take showers…right? No, why the hell would he take a shower? He loved his nasty stench! Jules shook his head, fighting the thoughts invading him, faster now, but they were changing him faster than he could even grapple with them. He could feel the filthy taste rotting his teeth, but he didn’t care–he let off another wet fart, and laughed, smelling his nasty pits wafting up to his nose.

“Think I got that layer a bit too think,” Ari said, sliding the dildo out, to check it’s progress. “Still, I don’t think you mind much, right Jules?”

“Nah, I don’t mind none–fuck!” Jules said, surprised by the long, slow drawl which had warped his words. “What in tarnation? Why’s I talkin’ like some dumbass hick?”

“Cause we hit the second layer a few minutes ago,” Ari said, sliding the dildo out, giving Jules a chance to see it in the mirror to his side. Sure enough, the greasy brown layer had all been absorbed by his now filthy body, and what remained below was a red, white and blue pattern–a red field, with blue stripes and white stars…just like the confederate flag. “Aww nah, git that fuckin’ thang outta mah fuckhole! I ain’t gonna be no fuckin’ redneck!”

“Now now Jules, mind your double negatives…” Ari said, and pushed the dildo back in. Sure enough, the taste in his mouth was shifting from rank filth, to a new medley–tobacco, cheap booze and liquor, hay, dust, grease…it tasted like…like home? No, not his home, but it did make him feel comfortable, or somehow at ease. That was a trap too, he realized, but it was difficult to resist–in the mirror, he saw his hair shifting slightly, the top shortening until what remained was a mullet, straight out of the 80’s and very long in the back. He also knew…somehow, that underneath all that fur of his, he’d find all sorts of tattoos he’d picked up over the years–but the only ones he could see easily were the confederate flags on the sides of his flabby neck. it was getting harder to think–which wasn’t surprising. After all, Judd hadn’t gone to any sort of college–hell, he hadn’t even graduated from high school!

He was confused for a moment, about who Judd was, before he realized that was his name. But it wasn’t really, right? He’d had a different name, something else–but as hard as he tried to remember it, the further it drifted from his grasp, leaving him with Judd–and Judd’s dull life. Growing up in a trailer park, drinking and chewing tobacco, getting a job as a trucker which barely paid the bills, hooking up with other nasty pigs and bikers at rest stops to get his nuts off. His old memories of offices and city life had disappeared before he could even think to miss them, leaving him grunting and groaning, demanding that Ari, “Pick up the goddamn pace, ya fucker! Pound that nasty confederate hole a mine real fuckin’ good., fuck yeah…”

“Heh, looks like that layer’s all finished,” Ari said, checking what remained of the shaft, “Guess we finally made it to the creamy center.”

Asslickers Inc. (Part 4)

The hoist was groaning from the additional weight, but it was holding, lowering Jules slowly back down onto the bed. “Please, I’m fucking serious! I didn’t know I could be this fucking hungry.”

“I know how hungry you are, Jules, but you’re going to have to be patient.”

“I don’t want to be patient, I want to fucking eat!”

Ari didn’t reply, just focused on settling the sheet back down onto the bed, Jules now massively flabby frame inside of it, and unfolded it back over the bed, giving him a better look at the daddy’s huge frame now that he was off the scale. Bent over as he was, it was difficult to see the full scope, but he noticed a telltale twitch of an arm–the relaxer was wearing off. He went over to the wall and brought back a clear buttplug and pushed it into Jules hole, letting its effect take hold, Jules’ eyes glazing over slightly. “Alright Jules–you’ll be able to move soon, so we’re going to go to the kitchen, have something to eat, and conduct a bit of business. You won’t think of running. You won’t look for help. You want to be here, and you want to do everything I tell you to do. Do you understand?”

Jules nodded and muttered a distant yes. Ari kept the plug in until it had fully dissolved, to make sure his directions had sunk in, and then pulled out the stick and set it aside, before helping Jules get used to his new body, as it came back alive. The Mindplug worked for about four hours–more than enough time. Jules was incredibly impatient, but the relaxer didn’t give him back full use of his legs for another half hour–and Ari broke down and brought him a bag of chips for a snack, which Jules inhaled in a minute or less, immediately demanding more. Still, they got him upright on his wide feet and cankles, Jules staring down at his massive, furry body, running his hands over it…and wondering why this wasn’t freaking him out as much as it should be. Sure…he liked being fat, but…but this was so fucked up, right? Then why did he just…keep doing everything Ari told him to do?

He waddled his way back to the kitchen, where Ari set out a large spread of snacks, which Jules found himself helpless against. He tried to control himself, tried to tell himself that he’d worked hard at the gym all his life to keep from becoming like this–but as soon as he’d thought that…he realized that he couldn’t actually remember ever being in a gym once in his life. No, what he was recalling now, were years spent stuffing his face at buffets, in front of the TV, growing bigger, and bigger, and bigger… “We…we met at the gym, right?”

Ari nodded, “You’re probably wondering why your memory seems all messed up?”

Jules nodded.

“The asslickers can warp your brain too. Once it settles into it’s new format–you won’t even believe you were ever in a gym. Your head will invent some other place where we met, which makes more sense–like a buffet or something.”

“You mean…fuck–this shit fucked me up.”

“Yeah, but you do love it, don’t you?” Ari said, jiggling Jules’ side rolls, making him giggle and groan, his cock hardening.

“Fuck, do that again…”

“I’ll do more than that, but you have to do something for me first.”

Ari got his computer, and directed Jules to compile a massive list of information about his financial assets–all of his stocks and bonds, his accounts, his retirement. He also had to list all of his personal information. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was doing it…but Ari had told him to, so he did it. When he was finished, Ari sent the documents off to someone by email, and then told Jules what he was getting. “You want my cock in that big ass of yours, right pig? Get back in that bedroom, and I’m going to plow you better than any asslicker ever could.”

With an excited nod, Jules heaved himself up from the table and walked back into the bedroom, his massive frame already feeling natural to him, his body adjusting naturally as his brain caught up to what it already knew–that he was a chub, that he was a gainer and had been all his life, that if he didn’t pass 600 pounds by the end of the year, he’d feel like a complete failure. He got back on the bed, and Ari put on a thick condom–even covering his balls–before fucking Jules deep and long. After all, he had no interest in getting any remaining residue from his projects on any sensitive areas. When he finally came–Jules tried to get up, but discovered that he couldn’t move. Beyond that–he also noticed that his head was starting to clear, after that strange plug Ari had used on him. Had he really just given Ari information about all of his money? Why in the fuck had he done that?

“You know, for a big shot executive like you describe yourself on your website, I thought you would have been worth a bit more than all that. Still, thanks for the seed money, I can promise it’ll be put to good use.”

“No–no, this is fucking robbery! I wasn’t in my right mind!”

“Oh, trust me, my lawyers–well, Arctos’ layers–will sort all of that out. They’ve been very efficient with my previous test subjects.”

“Wait–you looked at my website?”

“Well of course–I’ve been tracking you for a while. No partner, small social circle, work obsessed, no one will be surprised to hear you cracked. Everyone will think you pulled a sudden retirement after a nervous breakdown, letting you spend your wealth in some beautiful tropical country. I mean, not really–but at least they’ll be happy for you. I mean, you won’t actually be at a resort of course,” he said with a laugh, “No, I don’t think you’ll be heading to any resort any time soon.”

He’s deep in the pits of Pigtown, taking a break from the mass of men around him, pumping his dick to new sizes, staring at it through the plastic tube, panting a bit, wondering how big it can get, what it might feel like shoved up some faggots loose cunt. He looks to the side, and catches the eye of someone across the room, in the dark. He can’t make out much of him, but in those eyes, what is it about those eyes?

“Pigtown? You can’t be serious.”

“Oh come on, I’ve heard it’s one of the best bathhouses ever.”

“You told me you weren’t going to do this anymore.”

“I’m…look, I like to have fun. This is one of the ways I have fun. I just thought, if you came along, maybe you’d enjoy yourself! I brought some E–you had a blast last time–”

“No, I’m done with this, I’m done with you–go get lost in there, or whatever the fuck you want to do with your life, I’m fucking done.”

How long had he been down here? There were no clocks anywhere–hadn’t he arrived a few hours earlier? He looked down at himself, the filthy jockstrap, his rubber boots–hadn’t he been…wearing something else? Wearing more? It seemed…so long ago, for some reason. Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed the man make a beeline for him across the room.

“Jack…oh fuck, Jack, I can’t believe I found you–we have to go, please…”

Those eyes, now that they were so close…he did know them, but not the body they were attached to. The head shouldn’t be shaved. The body was too…thin, like it had lost some mass and wasted away, and he’d grown older–years older. The beard was wrong, and there shouldn’t be a piercing in his nose, or those tattoos. “You came in after all–looks like…you’re having fun…” He had trouble getting the words out, and he couldn’t quite recall the last time he’d bothered using words.

“Jack, it’s been weeks! You’ve been in here for weeks. I…I’m losing it, Jack. But I know how to get out, I can get us out, I can get us better!”

Jack just smirked, released the pump, and hauled out his massive cock, wrapping it tight, keeping it full, hefting it, those eyes latched onto it, unable to look away. “Just give it a chance–you’ll like it, I promise.”

He fought. He fought hard, but he collapsed, the knees of his bleached jeans in a puddle of piss and cum, as he explored the massive cock with his hands and mouth, losing himself in the pit, like all the other pigs around him had already.

Source: studio-mineshaft-berlin