Features & Bugs (Part 4)

Now that I had been away from the damn computer for a moment, the sense that something was…different was only growing stronger. I could hear Austin in the kitchen, cooking I assumed, and so I went into the bathroom to get a look at myself, but I couldn’t see anything wrong with my reflection, even though, I somehow knew that it wasn’t quite right. I mean…later…but then, at that moment? I looked at myself–at the beard, at the extra hundred and fifty pounds, at the tattoos and piercings, at the hair falling off my head in clumps…and I honestly couldn’t see anything wrong with it, and befuddled, I found Austin and ate, and ate, and ate. Dinner was massive, but my appetite was larger than I thought possible, and I stuffed myself. In the end, it was ten at night when we were finally ready to leave the house. I had no idea where we were going that late, but I went with Austin and climbed into his car…which was now much smaller than I thought it should be, and we drove into the city, parked, and walked a couple blocks to a rundown club, in a alley, and I followed Austin inside.

It looked like the setting of the videos I’d been watching–dingy, all tile and dim lighting and bodies pressed too close. It stank of musk and piss, and my little cock got hard instantly. My doubts started to fade, and I remember I was drooling uncontrollably as Austin led me deeper and deeper into the club, men crowding their way around me, touching me, smacking me, shouting at me. I don’t really know what happened when. I drank piss. I sucked cock and got fucked by who knows how many different men, all of them raw. At some point, strangers dragged me over to what looked like a converted sawhorse. They bent me over, strapping my hands and legs to the frame, the top cutting into my huge gut, and they opened up my hole how I’d…I’d always wanted. Fingers and cocks, and then fists. I don’t know how deep they went, or how many, but I was begging for it. I was in those videos, I was one of them, my fantasies were real.

I do remember one thing. Something I now know I wasn’t supposed to see. Austin hung around a bit at the beginning, but he soon abandoned me to the mob, once he saw I wouldn’t be trying to get away or resist. I was sucking cock, and trying to keep an eye on him, in case…he needed me, I suppose. And I saw him talking to someone, an older man in a leather uniform smoking a thick cigar. I wasn’t jealous or anything–I was just a pig after all, he could talk to or fuck around with whoever he wanted. No, for a while, I wasn’t even sure what had caught my attention. I thought I knew him, somehow. Recognized him from somewhere, but why would I know anyone here? It wasn’t until Austin and the man got closer, Austin pushing open the leather jacket the man had on, revealing his firm gut and the lines there, the lines I’d see forming through that crack in a door. It couldn’t have been him though, right? There was no way! He’d been…young, and thin, and this man was old, and sexy, and powerful and…and I knew it was true, but I was too horny to think, too weak to do anything. All I wanted was for him to come use me too–both because I wanted him, and because I wanted to see if I was right.

If two points make a line, how many until a shape forms in front of you? I couldn’t really see it, because I was too close–inside the boundary of the entire event, but everything linking up around me, the room spinning…it was too terrifying, and so I pushed it away. I focused on being a good pig, but doubts don’t go away that easily.

It was four in the morning, the bar was closing. Austin unbound me from the horse and helped me stand. The air on my hole felt so strange, as he helped me from the bar. I think I shit myself, but it might have just been a wad of cum running down my leg, I didn’t want to look–either possibility was horrifying. The cum more so. If it was cum…if it was cum, part of me wanted to eat it. We got back to the car, we drove back to his place, both of us exhausted, and we fell right to sleep. Sunday, my entire body ached, but it was a good ache. It was a hunger as much as a pain. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to do it every night. The excitement scared me–I couldn’t anticipate my own thoughts. I expected to feel disgust, but all my body told me was how good it felt, how much I wanted even more. And the doubts, the shape forming. We fucked all Sunday long, but come Monday I was going to get answers.

That morning, he tried to sneak out, but I got up with him, telling him I needed to go into work too. He told me he’d already called out for me, telling them I wasn’t feeling well. I got angry, said I was going, and he got angry. Frustrated, might be a better word, looking at me like I was just another computer not working like it was supposed to. It all came pouring out soon enough. I demanded to know who that man had been, and he denied at first, and then refused to tell me anything else. I wanted to know what I’d looked like, last week. I demanded to know what he’d done to me, what he’d done to both of us. He smiled, and promised me that he’d tell me everything when he got back from work that evening, but for now, I was to stay here, and not leave under any circumstance. Then, he left and shut the door behind him, locking it.

Features & Bugs (Part 3)

The office was small, and the man’s desk had been against a wall to the side. The man was there in his chair, staring at his computer screen–his shirt was unbuttoned, his fly too, and he was jacking off. Something was playing on the screen, some video, but at the angle I was crouched at, I couldn’t get a good look at anything other than him…and something was wrong with him. When I’d helped him the day before, the guy had been young, slender and wiry, clean shaven and hairless as far as I could tell. Looking at him now, I wondered if my memory was simply wrong, or if something else had happened to him. His body had grown larger, more muscular, and was much hairier than I would have expected. He had more than a five o’clock shadow–somehow he’d grown a short beard overnight. He must have been older than I’d thought as well, because it was flecked with grey, and I could see his hair receding slightly. But then something else happened, something I knew I couldn’t explain as easily as all that.

I could see him in profile, and he twisted towards me slightly in his chair. For a while I was focused on his cock–easily the same size as the dildo I’d had in my ass the night before, if not a bit larger. But something else caught my eye as well, something happening on the gut he’d grown overnight–there were lines on it. Black lines. I thought they were a shadow, but shadows didn’t move like this, they didn’t…grow. They were forming shapes on him, which I didn’t recognize at the time. The sight was enough to jolt me away from the crack–I stood up and slipped the door closed again…and only then did I realize I’d had my cock out as well, jacking off while I was watching him, right here in the damn hallway! Thankfully no one had seen me; I zipped back up and fled back to the IT department, where I ran into Austin. I tried to tell him what I’d just seen, but couldn’t get the words out, once he started toying with me. He ended up fucking me in the bathroom stall, and then suggested we get an early start on our weekend, and I was only too eager to agree, and what I’d seen had slipped to the back of my mind.

I…don’t remember much of that night. We had dinner somewhere, but I was so horny all I could think about was getting back to his place for sex. He told me he had a present for me, sat me down in front of his computer, and showed me a twenty file movie collection, he had queued up for me…and I watched all of them, in a row, all night long. Most of them had that same pig in them, but some had others. They were all pigs too, but some were different. One had a fat pig bound up, getting stuffed with food. Another pig got whipped, and spanked, and pierced, and bloodied for over an hour. Always there was piss. Always there was rubber. Always there was humiliation and abuse. Always, there was this odd…flicker, that I noticed on occasion, but it never held my attention for very long. I didn’t sleep once. I think I remember Austin leaving me there and then coming back. In the morning, he set a heaping plate of food by me, and I devoured it with one hand and stroked off with the other. In my mind, I’d gone from admiring these pigs, to identifying with them, experiencing their humiliation and abuse vicariously, and then, I actually started to feel like I was one of them. Like I’d entered the videos myself, like I was watching videos of things that had happened to me. I ate again, at some point, and eventually, Austin turned off the videos, and the only sound in the room was me snorting, the sound of me groping my pig cock.

“That’s better pig,” he said, “You feeling more like yourself now?”

I didn’t know how to answer that question, but his cock was there, and just seeing it made my mouth drool. I swallowed it, sucking hard, and a minute later my mouth flooded with piss for the first time, and I drank it down, the taste so familiar even as the newness of it struck me. I felt different, I didn’t feel like me, but I didn’t know how to explain it in terms anyone might be able to understand. The flow slowed, and he went back to fucking my face. He was brutal, choking and gagging me, but I just took, enjoying the roughness, enjoying being treated like a pig like me deserved to be treated. The first time I thought of myself as a pig, the first time I realized that’s what I was, I came with a huge grunt, I was so happy to have figured it out!

Austin didn’t cum, he just pulled out, and told me that he wanted to go out that night. He’d laid out a few outfits on the bed, and he wanted me to pick what I wanted to wear, we’d eat, and then head out. I got up from the chair where I’d been sitting for a day–it was sopping with piss and cum…I must have been sitting in my own filth this entire time, but for some reason that didn’t bother me. I didn’t even think of taking a shower–I just lumbered down the hall to the bedroom, and there, sure enough, were a few sets of clothes: a business suit, some shorts and a t-shirt, and finally what looked like a collection of rubber gear. I made a beeline for that of course–why would I want to wear any of that other stuff? It ended up being a rubber singlet, black with a red accent up the side, like a tuxedo stripe, and the ass was open. It had seemed…big, when I started putting it on, but when it was finished, it actually seemed a bit small. I pulled on some black army boots to go with it, and felt…good, surprisingly. Sexy even. I’d never felt sexy in my life, I’d thought, what in the hell was wrong with me?

The place was a sty, sure, but they hadn’t seemed that bad at the bar. They weren’t exactly the kind of guys he usually hung out with–Barry was a bit of a social climber, and if he didn’t think someone had anything to offer him, he wasn’t likely to hand around for long. But these two, they seemed…different. So laid back and relaxed, working their basic jobs at the warehouse, smelling like they hadn’t showered in a few days. One of them had spilled their drink on his suit, and Barry had cussed him out; they’d bought him another one, stuck around to chat, and now here he was, at their apartment. Strange, he hadn’t even bothered to get their names! One of them went into the kitchen and brought back a round of beers for the three of them, handed one to Barry, and the night continued.

Three beers later…

Something definitely wasn’t right. His suit felt so damn tight all of a sudden! At first he’d thought it was just the fact he was a bit woozy with alcohol, but no, his clothes…really didn’t fit him very well all of a sudden. He took another swig of beer, trying to follow whatever football game the guys were watching, but he’d never been much of a sports guy, he was too wiry and short for that. He leaned back, trying to make some room, and a button popped free of his shirt, striking the TV, the guys turning…and leering at him, while Barry started down at his…his new gut in horror.

“Think he needs another beer man.”

“I’ll get it, why don’t you get him a bit more comfortable?”

The guy got up, walked over, grabbed the front of Barry’s shirt and ripped it open, buttons flying everywhere, and Barry’s hefty, and rather hairy gut spilled out. This wasn’t right.

“Guys, I think I should go…” Barry said, tried to stand up, but he couldn’t keep his balance.

“No way man, no way you can drive like this–best just stay over, you know?” said the other guy, returning from the kitchen with another can, “Here, have some more.”

He didn’t want it, but he took it anyway, swigging deep, and letting loose a belch. Did his gut just…grow when he did that? He knew that was impossible, but…

Four more beers later…

The two guys were still watching sports, but Barry wasn’t watching anything. The world was swimming around him, he couldn’t…quite feel his body. The worst part, however, was that he needed to piss, had needed to piss for ages it felt like, but he couldn’t, not here, not just…in his pants.

His hand moved up, pouring more beer in his mouth, though a good amount dribbled out. Beer was good, made him feel warm and comfortable, made it easier to just, let go of things.

Too late, he realized he’d let go of his bladder, soaking his suit pants. The guys had noticed as well, they were saying something, but he couldn’t hear what. One pulled the can from his hand and replaced it with a fresh beer, and he kept drinking as best he could. It felt like his brain was slowly being choked off, deadened.

Six more beers later…

Just a pig now. The guys had stripped it of all it’s clothes, and had it sucking their cocks, drinking their piss, getting it used to their scent. Nothing was left of the asshole businessman they’d decided to take down the night before, their ultra strong beer had made short of his weakass mind, leaving him with barely enough faculty to serve, provided they kept him provided with plenty of beer from now on, of course.

Drinking it all the time would only make him heavier of course. And hairier. But that was how the two friends liked their pigs. And when they got sick of it? It was definitely still a seller’s market.

Features & Bugs (Part 2)

I nodded, even hornier than I’d been before I’d started the film, packed up my stuff, and left with Austin to head for his place, driving separately. The entire time, I couldn’t get that movie out of my head, it felt like the entire thing was looping over and over. Still, when I got there and we got busy with each other, I was still too nervous to suggest trying anything that I’d just seen, and Austin didn’t even bring it up, keeping things relatively vanilla.

In my previous relationships with women, I’d always enjoyed a more dominant role, and when I’d first hooked up with Austin, I’d tried that with him, but it wasn’t long before things had reversed. By this point, I was exclusively bottoming for him, and while I’d grown to appreciate it, that was the first night where I actually enjoyed the experience. Suddenly, having his cock in my ass…it wasn’t an intrusion, it was welcomed. Needed, even, and I kept thinking about that fist, thinking about how wide that pig’s hole had stretched to accommodate it, wondering what it might feel like to have someone inside me like that. The one thing I did do, while he fucked me, was start grunting and snorting a bit–not really on purpose at first, but doing it made me feel so damn sexy-dirty that I kept going, and Austin ramped up the nasty talk, calling me a little piggy, and that was when I blew all over his sheets.

We fucked a few more times that evening, which was more than we had before. I was insatiable, now that I knew how good it felt to be filled up, and Austin was more than happy to help me out. He couldn’t get it up the fourth time, but he seemed unfazed, and we dug around in his collection of toys, found a dildo substantially larger than he was, and now that I was well loosened he worked it into my hole…and I swear, I shot another load without even touching myself, just like that damn pig in that video, and as disgusted as I knew I should be…what I actually felt was pride, if you can believe it. I know I couldn’t, at the time. He worked me over for close to an hour, and I…I think I shot three more times before I’d finally had enough. I was sweaty and gross but I didn’t care…but I couldn’t get to sleep. My hole ached. At first I thought it was sore, but it was just…empty. I slipped out of bed and found a plug, and once that was in me I felt much better immediately, and drifted off to sleep almost immediately.

The next morning, Austin laughed when he found me plugged up, but he was ready again, and so we fucked one more time before work. Austin wasn’t small by any means, but after that dildo the day before…getting fucked was nice, but it just didn’t quite do it for me. I still came, but I was thinking more and more about that fisting session in that video. We carpooled to work together–it was Friday, and had already made plans to spend the weekend together like usual–and I went to work with the plug still in. Honestly, I’d just forgotten to take it out, and didn’t realize it was still in until the vibration of the car got my cock hard as a rock. I told Austin what I’d done, and he smirked, suggesting I just keep it in–after all, who would know, other than him of course. The thought had occurred to me of course, but having him validate the desire made me more comfortable with the idea. It wasn’t like I couldn’t take it out when it got uncomfortable, right?

Comfort wasn’t the issue, it turned out–it was stimulation. I couldn’t focus. I had to keep slipping off to the bathroom every hour to jack off, still snorting like a pig. I couldn’t get through tickets–I’d just stare at my computer screen, rocking on my plug, thinking about that video, wanting to watch, terrified someone might see, groping my leaking cock through my khakis. Before lunch, Austin sent me a link–another video. I skipped lunch, and watched it instead in the empty office while everyone else was out.

It was shorter, but featured the same pig as before. It was soaked in piss again, crawling around the floor, licking boots, licking cocks, licking pits, licking cracks. The lighting was better, and camera more focused on the pig this time, his body covered with less rubber. I could see that his entire body was covered with tattoos, face covered with piercings. It’s small cock was studded with metal, with a huge PA bigger than one of his balls through the head. His skin was totally smooth, it shone like it was covered with grease or oil, head shaved, but with a thick, grungy beard. I couldn’t finish the video before someone came back, and I rushed off to the bathroom to finish up my own load.

At the time, I couldn’t understand why this was affecting me so much. I’d always been a pretty level-headed guy. I’d never been that interested in sex. But now, I reeked of it, and all I wanted was Austin to take me home and plow me to the ends of the Earth, but I needed to finish the day at least. I managed to hold my focus for a hour, solving a few tickets, and one happened to take back to the building of the guy who’d had that screen flicker the day before. I’d completely forgotten my promise to check in on him and see how his computer was acting, so I was glad I’d remembered. I finished the ticket I’d picked up first, and then swung back by the guy’s office. The door was closed, so I knocked, but didn’t get an answer…but I could hear noises coming from the other side of the door, so someone had to be in there. I knocked again, and this time the sounds grew quieter. But were still there, and after a few moments, they got louder again. I was curious, so I tried to knob. It wasn’t locked, and I slipped the door open quietly–just a crack, but enough to see inside.

Features & Bugs (Part 1)

“You don’t even believe me, do you?”

I did my best to suppress the sigh I wanted to reply with. “It’s not that I don’t believe you–I just don’t see anything wrong, is all…Can you be more specific? The ticket just says that it’s not working right.”

“I don’t know! I hate computers, it’s just…I don’t know, I felt a shock, and then everything just seemed strange afterward. I think it’s the circuit board or something. Motherboard, whatever! Just get me a new one, if you can’t figure it out.” he said. He was some middle management flunkie, probably didn’t know much of anything. Who kept putting shits like this in charge anyway? He looked like he couldn’t even be done with college yet. Here I was, 34, worked with computers all my life, and stuck doing tech support for idiots I hated just to pay off my student loans.

I looked back at the guy’s computer screen, but didn’t see anything suspicious, and if he wasn’t going to be more specific, then there wasn’t really much I could do for him. I could waste all afternoon getting him set up with a new desktop, and get in trouble for neglecting all of the other tickets which needed more attention than this, or I could blow him off, and get in trouble when he called my manager. “Look, I do believe you,” I lied, “But it was probably just some static. How about this–I’ll check back on you tomorrow afternoon, and if it’s still acting up, I’ll get you a new desktop–how does that sound? In the meantime, keep a record of what’s strange with it, and be as specific as you can. That will help me fix it.”

He wasn’t happy about waiting, but with a few more assurances, he relented, and I slipped away. I could at least block some time off tomorrow to take care of it, when I had less of a backlog. I checked my workflow and met up with a few other workers who had problems I could actually do something about, even if one was as simple as a reboot, and the other showing someone, again, how to put paper in the damn printer. Eventually I made it back to base–it was already early afternoon, and I’d had it with people for the day. Plus I was horny, and I can never focus when I’m horny. Thankfully, the IT office is pretty quiet and secluded–and so I sat down at my computer, put on some headphones, and started up the porno Austin had wanted me to watch. He was another IT guy in the department, a bit younger than me, but also gay. I’d always thought he was a bit of a weirdo, but we’d grown closer over the last couple of months–I mean, really close. We hadn’t made the fact that we’d started dating public or anything, but it was getting serious, or it felt serious at least.

I scanned the empty room one more time, before hauling out my cock and starting the video. The first couple of minutes set the scene–I’d never seen a space like that before, a large, dimly lit tiled room, almost like a bathroom but emptied of everything inside it. Two men came it–one tall and muscular, the other fatter and dressed in rubber with the word pig across it, and the muscular one shoved him down so he sat on the dirty tile, and chained his arms up–and then the men started coming in. It was the kinkiest thing I’d ever seen, watching men use that pig–as a cumdump, as a urinal, humiliating it, kicking and crushing his puny cock and balls with their boots…intellectually, it disgusted me, and yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I lied to myself for a bit, that I liked observing it, but the truth was that I identified with the pig. I…I was so damn curious, what it would feel like, taste like, to be treated like that. I couldn’t believe Austin had thought I’d like this…but I was just as surprised that he’d been right that I would. Then again, he always seemed to know more about what I wanted than I did. Hell, I’d thought about guys before, but I’d been a virgin before meeting him, after all.

I was so engrossed that I forgot to keep checking the room, and so the hand on my shoulder nearly sent me flying from my chair. Thankfully, it was just Austin. He was smirking down at me, and at my hardon, “You should really be more careful, you know,” he said, unzipping his fly and letting his cock out, “Wouldn’t want anyone else here to catch you with your pants down.”

I sucked him off, but kept one eye on the porno still playing on my computer. The pig was now filthy, covered with piss, cum, spit. The man who’d locked him to the wall–his master, I suppose–walked back over, now that the other men had thinned out, unchained him, and ordered him onto his hands and knees. I assumed he was just going to fuck him, but instead he lubed up his entire hand and began worming the entire thing into the pig’s hole–it wasn’t even all the way in, before the pig came, heaving and grunting as his tiny cock splattered the filthy floor with cum. I shot too, but kept watching, the master shoving nearly his entire arm up the pig’s hole.

Austin came after that, and then pulled the headphones off my head. “Quitting time–I assume you wanna come over tonight?”

Yeah, ya weren’t too sure ‘bout it, a month ago, were ya? Rolling up here, that prissy dad of yers telling ya a couple months here with me on mah ranch would be good fer ya. Didn’t think he knew what he was talking about, and sure, ya sulked for a while, bored without yerr video games and books and shit, but we’ve found better ways tah keep ya occupied, haven’t we?

Yeah pig, lean back, take another long drag off that cigar. Ye’re learnin’ real good, real quick. Might as well put that brain power to good use before we ruin the rest of it–can’t have a pig smarter than it’s owner, right? Yeah, you have permission pig, I know hearin’ me call ya that makes ya hard in an instant. Now that ye’re startin’ tah show all that weight proper-like, the name fits a bit better, don’t you think?

Too bad ya ain’t hairier–I love a hairy pig. Still, once we get a few dozen more tattoos on ya, ya’ll look like a right nasty pig anyway. Tug on those tits a yers, yeah, that’s it. Yeah, everyone can see ya pervin’ out, but ya like that, I bet. Don’t worry non, all the neighbors know ‘bout mah pigs–ya’ll get to know a few of them a bit better before too much longer. Hey, there’s Buck–go on pig, wave to Buck–that’s good. Buck’s wife might think he’s a good Christian shithead, but he’s one dirty minded bull when he comes over here, trust me.

Fight all you want boy, but there’s no escape. The sooner ya give in, the better it will be. The more ya’ll enjoy it. The hotter we can make ya before that city slicker bro of mine comes back tah pick ya up in a few more months. Oh don’t worry, ya ain’t gonna be goin’ home with him or nothin’–but we gotta make sure he don’t remember ya bein’ human or nothin’. Nah, he’ll stay with us for a few days, plowin’ mah new pig, becomin’ a bit of a bull himself, ‘n then ya’ll really be mine–ya’ll like that, trust me.

Buck’s still watchin–how about we give him a show, pig? Drop trou’ ‘n bend over–and I want him tah hear ya squeal all the way over there, or ya’ll be sleeping with the pigs tonight–I know ya don’t wanna sleep with them anymore, right? Then me a good pig, and give a good fuckin’ show, ya hear me?

Source: cigarcub33

Apartment Hunting (Sketch)

A tribute to AgainstMyWill for what is still one of my favorite stories ever. WARNING: FILTH/SCAT

There really wasn’t anything worse than looking for apartments. If it wasn’t the crazy fucking people who lived in this city, or the strange apartments where some contractor must have finished, looked around, and said “someone could live in this,” it was the astronomical rent required for a fucking room. Rent too fucking high indeed, it was horrific. But if you wanted to be somebody, this is where you had to live, and so here Parker was, fresh out of college, looking for a room to rent.

He knocked on the next door, and waited for a few minutes. He could hear someone on the other side, but it took a few seconds for him to get there–the guy opened the door, which was stopped by the chain, and it was exactly the kind of person Parker loathed more than anything else. Lean and fit, though that natural kind of body, the kind of young guy who couldn’t keep an ounce of fat on him if he tried. Scruffy face, unshaven, and from the musk rolling off him, obviously unwashed. Not the sort of guy he wanted for a roommate. “Yeah, what do ya want?” The guy asked.

Parker could have just said he had the wrong apartment…but he was getting to the point where he was about ready to settle for anything. “Oh, hey…uh, I saw an ad on Craigslist about a room for rent?”

“Oh…us…” The guy said through the crack in the door, and then he obviously gave Parker a glance from head to toe. “Yeah, actually…you wouldn’t be half bad.”

The door shut, and then opened wide, giving Parker a better look at the apartment–and the place was a fucking sty. The floor was littered with trash, aside from small walkways through the muck, mostly leading to a grungy, well stained couch in front of a TV on the wall, which had some stupid reality show on. “Come on in man, let me show ya around.”

Parker really, really didn’t want to step in there, but his standards were…low at this point. It wasn’t, in fact, the worst place he’d seen that day–though it was the filthiest. He stepped inside, carefully staying on the trail between the trash, and let the guy close the door behind him. “I’m Aaron” he said, “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”

Parker let the guy lead him, winding through the filth to a hallway, passing the kitchen as they went. He heard something in there, and he took a peek around the corner–there, in the middle of the floor was some, disgusting fat man on his hands and knees, wearing only a pair of well soiled briefs, his face shoved in a pizza box, eating some who knew how old pie in there, and he nearly vomited. “What…who the fuck is that?” He said, unable to look away.

“Aw hell, that’s just my pig,” Aaron said.

“He…he lives here?”

“Well yeah, he’s my pig. Where else would he live? Not with me?”

“That, I…No, fuck this, I’m leaving, this is disgusting,” Parker said, turned around and started back towards the front door.

“Stop right there, Mister,” Aaron said, and without even really understanding why, Parker froze in place. “Turn around–I haven’t even had a chance to show you your room yet. You do want to see your room, right?”

“What…why can’t I…” Parker said, but his feet, helpless, turned him around and he kept following Aaron deeper into the apartment, “How are you doing this?”

“You came into my apartment Parker!” Aaron said, “Or our apartment, really. You came in, and I get to play in your head. Getting all my fun strings in there, don’t worry about it–it feels good, actually, doing what I say. You like it. You like obeying me.”

They kept going, except now, every step brought him a strange tingle of pleasure, all of it going right to his cock. Halfway down the hallway, Aaron stopped in front of a door, and said, “Here we are Parker, you’re new room!” He opened the door and turned on the light, revealing inside a filthy bathroom, the floors stained with who knew what, and…and there was no toilet. It was obvious where the toilet was supposed to be, from the empty space, but it just wasn’t there. “What…what the fuck? I can’t live in a bathroom!”

“Well toilets don’t live anywhere else. And that’s what I placed the ad for–for a new toilet. The last one managed to run away, but we’re going to be extra careful with you, Parker–you won’t be going anywhere.”

“No–No, I’m not, this is fucking disgusting!” Parker said, and managed to push back against whatever control Aaron had over him, stepping back bit by bit.

“Yeah, see? That’s the problem I had before. That’s why I specified in the ad that I was looking for a toilet. And you came! That must mean you want to be a toilet, right Parker?”

“N-No!” But his memory said otherwise. The ad…how had he missed it? It had said toilet, why had he thought it was about a room? He…hadn’t thought it was for a room though, he’d specifically come because…because he wanted…wanted to be– “No!” He screamed, and pried himself backwards again, but not as far as he should have been able to go.

“I mean, I have high standards for toilets too, you know,” Aaron said, “I asked for references even, and your references…man, they’re something else? Serving as the football and rugby team’s personal toilet all through college? Those are some references, I gotta say. I know, serving as the toilet for just me and my pig won’t be as strenuous, so you’re welcome to work elsewhere–I know some clubs nearby who contract for toilets on the weekends. And I certainly don’t expect you to take the position without a sample. Wouldn’t want to spend your time eating shit you hate, right! Go on in, get on your knees, and you can taste all you want, Parker.”

Parker his eyes glazed over now, let loose a grunt, his nose flaring, lips curled in a sneer, hurried into the bathroom and got down, panting at the thought of a fresh load of shit. Hell, even if it was terrible, he’d probably take it–after all, finding a room is easy, but finding a place to live out your destiny has a toilet for filthy men? That was an opportunity he couldn’t bear the thought of passing up.

Coach Ray Gets Framed (Part 6)

Ray tried to pull away at that point. He really did, but the cruelty programmed into him, knowing his prey was without escape, couldn’t resist the opportunity presented. He forced the pig back onto hands and knees and ravaged it’s hole for the second time that evening, longer than the first, relishing it this time, enjoying himself. After all, this pig wouldn’t be going anywhere for the foreseeable future. It was his now. His, and no one else’s, to do with as he choose. He whispered things into the pig’s unhearing ear, describing what it could do to it, but Noah didn’t care. Noah was just a pig at this point, consumed by its senses, unable to muster any kind of consciousness beyond pleasure and filth. Ray came, at long last, long after the pig had cum, slumping down against the concrete in the throes of its long orgasm. Again, as soon as Ray’s cock slipped free, his old mind reverted, and he backed away as quickly as he could, furious at himself for losing control, but still shaking from the pleasure and excitement he’d felt, dominating the pig.

No, not the pig. It wasn’t a pig, it was Noah! He focused, pushing away the invasive thoughts as best he could, but they felt so natural to him, it is difficult to believe that they weren’t actually his. He was so focused on himself, he hadn’t noticed Noah returning to his own senses, and trying to stand, but the chain was only long enough to allow him to squat. He struggled with the collar, beginning to panic, yanking at the chain, but it was heavy steel, and well rooted in the floor. He fell back to his hands and knees, looking at his coach. “Please, Coach, you can’t do this to me, you can’t. I just want to go home.”

What could Ray say? He had reasons, but he knew Noah would never believe him. This…this was for the best, he tried to convince himself, but he fled back upstairs as quickly as he could, slamming the door behind him, but it wasn’t until he was in his own master bathroom that he could no longer hear Noah’s screams and sobs from below him. A shower. A shower would make him feel better. He turned on the water, and as it was heating he got down on the tile next to the tub, put his feet high on the wall, arced his cock and released a stream of piss that flew and soaked his chest and face. So refreshing he told himself, drinking in some of his shower–it wasn’t until he got back up and turned off the water that he realized what he’d done, and that Julian was there beside him, sneering, but he was gone again before Ray could try and throttle him.

What had he just done? What in the world was he doing? Did he have any control over any of this, anymore? Julian was toying with him, he knew that, but he had no idea what kind of game he was playing with them both here. Was he actually managing to oppose him, or had he simply done everything Julian had hoped he’d do. He was crying, and he didn’t quite know when he’d started, but he snorted back his dripping nose and got control of himself. He could figure this out. He’d gotten Julian fired, he was only trying this because he was desperate. If he could stay calm, maybe he could get out of this before they get any deeper.

“You should probably be the one to hang on to this, you know,” a voice said behind him. Ray spun back, and found Julian on his bed, naked, with a single key on a ring hanging from his finger. “I tend to lose things rather easily, and this is the only key to Noah’s collar. If you have a change of heart, and decide to release your sex pig sometime soon, you should have it.”

“He’s not my pig.”

“You seem to call him that quite often, so I don’t know that I believe you.”

“You fucker, you’re doing this, you’re forcing us to do this shit.”

“Oh coach, I’m not forcing you to make these choices–you’re just behaving in a perfectly rational, self-interested manner. Still, the key–I’ll just leave it here,” Julian said, setting it on the bedside table. “Now, coach, are you thirsty? Need a drink?”

Ray nodded, and without much thought, he walked over to where Julian was, wrapped his mouth around his fellow teacher’s cock, and waited. After a moment, he started pissing, and Ray gulped it all down. When the flow ebbed, he started sucking, and after a few minutes was rewarded with a load of cum as well. He stood back up, wiping his beard, amazed at how much better he felt. “Thanks, I guess I was thirsty.”

“Well, you had a busy evening. Now, why don’t you go play some Solitaire before bed? I know that always helps you relax. You won’t worry about Noah until the morning.”

Ray nodded, and then turned and left the bedroom, not noticing that Julian had disappeared from his bed. He could hear Noah in the basement still, his voice hoarse, but he didn’t need to worry about that until the morning–he’d figure out what to do about Julian’s tricks then. First, Solitaire. He went into his office and sat down at his computer. In his mind, he opened up his favorite game, which always helped him calm down when he was stressed, and played a few rounds. In reality, he started a slideshow of porn, sat back, and started jacking off over and over, making sure to catch as much cum as he could on his filthy shirt and in his soaked jockstrap, the screen flickering on occasion, and if you looked close, a second face was reflected behind the Coach in the screen, even though no one else was in the office with him. It was a few hours before Ray finally started to feel tired, and then he went to bed, certain, somehow, that come morning, he’d know just what to do to foil Julian’s plan and get his freedom back.

***WARNING: SCAT***

Marco hadn’t had a bender like this in a long time, not since college. He surged awake, his head pounding, mouth dry, gut twisting into knots. Throw up–he was going to throw up. His vision was blurry, but he’d fallen asleep in his bathroom at least. He crawled over to the toilet, grunting, gut growling, unable to believe how terrible he felt, but when he got there, he discovered that whoever had used the toilet last hadn’t bothered flushing it–and he also realized that this wasn’t his bathroom.

He looked around, the room spinning a bit slower now, and found he was in a tiled restroom somewhere, but his gut pulled his face back around–he thought he was going to finally hurl, but instead he shoved his face down into the toilet’s filth and started chomping and slurping away at it, terrified at what he was doing, but unable to find a way to make himself stop.

His mind was coming a bit clearer. His balls ached, and with one hand he explored back, discovering his balls were a good six inches lower than they had been, kept there by two thick, steel stretchers. His cock was studded with metal, and he found himself stroking it, running his hand over the jacob’s ladder, toying with his PA, his mouth still hopelessly chomping up the slurry of piss and shit from the toilet. It wasn’t until he heard the door to the bathroom swing open behind him that he scrounged up the willpower to haul his head up, splattering shit around him as he spun, eyes wide with terror, face coated in brown, and found himself looking at a huge man, clad all in leather, smoking a cigar and groping his own cock.

“Looks like a pig didn’t make it out last night,” the man said, with a laugh, “Stuck here for now. Don’t worry though–old Rod here knows how to take care of pigs like you. By the time we open, you’re gonna be the freakiest pig around, and you’re never gonna want to leave.”

Marco tried to object, but all his words fell out as grunts and moans, his head pulled back around, lulled back to the filth, and he was stuffing himself again by the time Rod lined his own, ten inch cock with Marco’s already well bred hole, and gave his newest Pigtown hog a good, long, filthy fuck.

Source: hairypisser

Coach Ray Gets Framed (Part 3)

Ray didn’t notice that Porter had cum down Noah’s throat. He didn’t hear him leave, his entire mind had been overwhelmed with the athlete’s musk. His cock was so hard and leaking, but…but he couldn’t cum. He knew if he could just cum, maybe his mind would clear, but instead, the raging horniness only dragged him in deeper. Without warning, Noah’s cock released a torrent of piss into his spandex, sending Ray’s senses in overdrive–he lost track of what happened after that, the two of them ripping each other’s clothes off their bodies, writhing around in the puddle of piss and sweat on the kitchen floor.

The more of a taste he got, the rougher Ray felt himself becoming, and he sensed Noah slowly relenting to his dominance, the young man presenting his ass to his coach, grinding it against the older man’s thick cock, grunting and mewling, neither of them capable of stringing together a sentence. Still, Ray relented as long as he could, desperately trying anything else to cum, but he only grew more certain that what he wanted–what he needed–was to fuck Noah. The drive overwhelmed him eventually. He shoved Noah down onto his stomach in the middle of the piss, climbed on top of him, and as soon as he penetrated that loose hole, something changed.

Thinking back, he struggled for a way to describe what, exactly, he experienced, each time he fucked Noah. On one hand, it felt like he was suddenly wearing colored glasses–nothing had really changed, but everything appeared to be completely different. This didn’t seem to fully capture what he experienced however. It was also like being lost in the woods and utterly certain you have been walking east…only to discover, in a moment, that your whole orientation was utterly wrong, and you’d been travelling West the whole time. A deep sense of vertigo and disorientation. Still, even that couldn’t capture the sensation that he was no longer himself. Not only had he been travelling in the wrong direction, he hadn’t even been the right person travelling in the wrong direction.

What all this meant, is that as soon as his cock had slid inside Noah, his head popping through his cherry, a cruel sneer evolved across the coach’s face, he dug his hands into Noah’s hips, hard enough to bruise, and drove his cock in deeper with a roar, flinging spittle across the boy’s back. “Yeah you fucking pig, you fucking piece of shit!” he screamed, “Take your master’s cock, fucking take it!” Ray (if he even was Ray at that moment, which isn’t how he had felt) wanted to hurt him, wanted to tear into him. Wanted to cause pain and humiliation, wanted to ruin him. Beneath him, Noah simply snorted and grunted mindlessly, slamming his hips and ass back to meet his coach’s brutal thrusts, face smearing across the filthy tile, eyes glassy wide. Noah came first, and Ray didn’t even notice, his entire mind focused on his own pleasure, on destroying this disgusting pig he was fucking. He had kept up the stream of obscenities for a few minutes, but now Ray was simply yelling his voice raw, biting and scratching at Noah’s back, a few deep enough to draw blood, before with a deep howl, he finally spilled his seed deep in Noah’s guts, but kept slamming into him, until his softening cock popped free, and it was like everything shifted back all at once, and he was himself again.

He scrambled backwards, away from Noah–who was still lolling in the puddle of piss, his hole leaking his coach’s cum, and the entire event felt like a dream to Ray. Noah had been unaffected by the sudden absence of his coach’s cock–he was still licking at the piss coated tile, eyes rolled back in pleasure, bucking his hips into the floor. Ray could remember doing everything, could remember everything he’d thought and said but he hadn’t wanted to do any of it. He hadn’t wanted to, and yet he had. And as much as he hated it, as much as he tried to deny it, he’d…liked it. He’d liked it enough to think, just for a moment, about crawling back over there and…and mounting that whore’s fat ass all over again, really working to make that pig squeal this time. He caught himself falling forward, and instead threw himself back against the cabinets behind, hard enough for his head to smart. Taking a few breaths, he finally managed a soft, “N-Noah?” his voice hoarse. “Noah!” He tried again a bit louder.

He didn’t get an answer, and so Ray just sat there, fifteen feet away, his back to the counter, trying to figure out what he was going to do. He’d just molested one of his own students. Worse, he’d put on a show that, had anyone seen him perform it, would incriminate him for certain. He looked around the room–Julian had invaded his house, but had he set up cameras? Was this his plan? He grabbed his clothes where he’d thrown them, feeling horribly vulnerable and exposed. Sure, they were filthy, but having his shirt, jockstrap and shorts back on also made him feel…safe. As he tried to figure out what he could possibly do to convince anyone he’d been set up, Noah slowly began to calm down, his sighs of pleasure and lust becoming gasps. He finally picked himself up out of the puddle, on his hands and knees, looked around and asked, “Oh god, now where am I?”