Mr. Morris (Part 4)

The amulet. Grandpa’s amulet. He’d promised me that he’d give it to me, and there it was hanging around my brother’s neck. I was angry for a moment, but then he started talking to me in that same way Grandpa always talks to me…and I calmed down, but I still fought him. I told him that the amulet wasn’t his, that I knew he’d stolen it, that Grandpa had planned on giving it to me, and he laughed. He told me Grandpa had given it to him–that Grandpa had always planned on giving it to him. He said, “Why in the world would he give it to you? You know he thinks you’re just a stupid pig slut.”

And then, right then, there was a seed of doubt. I had these memories, but there were these other ones too, ones I couldn’t quite sort out. I could remember Mr. Morris, I could remember Grandpa how I’d always known him but there was also someone else, someone…very, very different. I refused to believe what my head was telling me, but I started to get dressed. I had to go see him, I had to talk to him and see for myself. My brother thought that was a fine idea–and suggested we both go over together. We snuck out of the house, and I drove us both over to the senior living, went up to Grandpa’s apartment.

The place was a filthy. Before, it had been spotless, but now…now the entire place was littered with trash, and there was a foul odor in the air…the same odor I’d smelled around Grandpa all my life. My old memories were retreating, these new ones were coming forward. I already knew what I’d find in the recliner, slouching in front of the television, but I had to see it for myself. He glowered at me when I entered the room–he’d always despised me, and I’d never known why. He loved my brother though–my slobby, failure of a brother–and why not? Grandpa was a drunk, a smoker, massively obese. He’d never taken care of himself all his life. His hair was matted with sweat, and I don’t think he ever showered, but the worst part was the diapers. He’d been incontinent for years now, and he never changed the ones he was wearing regularly, so he stank like an overflowing toilet all day.

I was furious. My brother had done this to him, to my Grandpa, he’d fucking ruined him, but instead of yelling, and getting angry, I was stripping off my clothes. I was getting down on my hands and knees in front of Grandpa, and he was laughing with that cigar stuck in his mouth, that cackle-wheeze, and my brother was behind me sliding a finger into my hole, telling me that he’d always hated me, hated me for the attention I got from our parents, hated me because everyone wanted my ass, hated me because I was smart and perfect, and that it was past time I’d taken my proper place in this family. I then I heard a dull thwack, and my brother crumpled to the ground, Grandpa standing up from his recliner with a lamp in has hand, huffing and puffing.

As quick as I could, I got the amulet off from my brother’s back. Grandpa told me how he’d attacked him that afternoon, stealing the amulet and fucking him into the filthy slob standing before me. But it hadn’t worked as well as my brother had thought it would, because the amulet can only be used to it’s fullest if it is given, not taken. And so grandpa gave it to me, and when my brother woke up…well…let’s just say I fucked him right in the head. He’s a dumb, stupid pig, but I wasn’t as cruel as the amulet would have liked. It has…quite the mind of its own, but as long as you’re ready for it, it isn’t too much of a problem. My brother spends his days now living at home, serving my father, and then he goes to the senior center and he serves the men there. All of them. He pays special attention to Grandpa of course, but his ass and mouth are available to anyone over the age of fifty-five, and I…well, I went off to college, the amulet still hanging around my neck. I did my best to help grandpa get back to how he was, but the amulet really doesn’t like reversing anything it’s already done. He still has to wear diapers, but he takes it in stride at least–though I think he might rub them in my brother’s face when I’m not around, as punishment. At least, I think that’s something the amulet might have snuck in while I was fucking my brother, but I never really felt like asking for details.

Grandpa made me promise that I wouldn’t use it while I was at school, and so far, after a month, I haven’t. That certainly doesn’t mean that I don’t want to. I have no problem getting cock, of course–pretty much anyone will drop their pants at a word, and all of my professors love me, and my mouth, and my ass, to bits. I just have a way with those older, burly bears, you know? But to be honest, I’m starting to think that what my grandpa doesn’t know, probably wouldn’t hurt him. And I have this guy on my floor–fuck, he’s so damn hot. Huge cock, and he lets me suck him off, but he’s a bit of an asshole, you know? I’m thinking he might need a bit of an attitude adjustment. Just some light conversation is all, nothing extreme. And maybe, if the feeling’s right…well, what’s the harm in one good fuck and a few changes to go with it? I’m sure I can keep everything under control just fine.

Mr. Morris (Part 3)

But I did it. I logged all my community service at the last minute. I finished all my classes with straight B’s for blow job. I got up on that stage, naked underneath my gown, my father’s cum leaking down my thighs. He’d wanted to congratulate me with a fuck in the locker room before the ceremony, and I wasn’t about to deny him that. He actually seemed to be…kind of proud of me. I could dimly remember, before I’d been fucked by Mr. Morris, that my older brother had been a bit of a screw up, that I’d been the better kid, the one with the potential. Now I was just a fat faggot whore, but at least I graduated from high school right? And college! I was going to college.

You have to understand–I’d always felt a bit stifled under my parents roof. My brother, well, he’d started drinking and smoking pot in high school, and they’d sent him to rehab. All my life, I’d had strict curfews, rules, order–and while I never really resented it, I always just wanted to be free, right? And college was the goal. If I could just get to college, if I could just get somewhere else, across the country if possible, I could finally figure out who in the hell I am, away from my family. And even after, I still felt that way. As much as I enjoyed being my dad’s and brother’s fat whore faggot, I knew there had to be more for me out there. More cocks to suck, more old men to fuck my holes. It was a different kind of thirst, I suppose, but it was still there.

And now, now I was almost there. I was graduated. As soon as I could get away, I hurried over to the senior center and found Mr. Morris waiting for me. I could sense that he was excited too, and I tried to get him to tell me what he was planning, but all he told me was that he’d like to fuck me again, and this time would be different. I didn’t care–all I really wanted was his cock in my fat ass. I got that, and more than I even thought possible.

This time, when his cock was inside me, everything was still all swirling around and changing, but this time I could sense that he was in control of it. I, however, still couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on–I was in a stupor just like before, unable to move, while he plowed my hole. But this time, when he came, it’s wasn’t just Mr. Morris cumming in my ass–it was my Grandpa. He’d made me his real grandson, and I was so happy, I couldn’t keep myself from crying.

He hugged me, and I felt that hug reverberate through so many hugs he’d given me in the past, hugs I hadn’t even remembered until now, from when I was a kid, and everything I felt for him just grew even larger. He wasn’t just my lover, he was family. Once we could speak–I was shocked, he was exhausted–he told me that he’d done his best to try and fix some of what he’d done before. The amulet–it doesn’t like to reverse changes, but he’d managed to temper them slightly. He told me it should make for a slightly better summer for me. In fact, it was the best summer of my life.

My dad was proud of me again…though it was different. My brother was still the fat slob screw up that he’d always been and he treated me like shit, but now my dad fucked us both. I could tell he loved me more, because when my dad fucked my brother, it was to punish him, but when dad fucked my hot cubhole, I knew it was because he couldn’t fucking my hot ass. No one could. Hell, I could stare down any old man in the street and give them a tent in their slacks, and I found that most of them, even if I just half-hinted, would happily feed me their cum down some dark alleyway. I loved it. I loved the attention, I loved the sex, I loved my family, all of my family.

Now, all of us would go see grandpa, and usually all of us would end up fucking around all night long. As the summer wore on, I began to notice something else–my brother seemed to be growing kind of distant. He’d always been a bit jealous of the attention I’d gotten, and with me about to go to college on a full ride, so soon after he dropped out after flunking all of his classes–I could tell he was angry at me. He fucked angry too, and more than once he actually hurt me a bit, but I just shrugged it off. I was going to college, and he was just a jealous, failure drop out, and he knew it. Dad and grandpa were so proud of me, and sure, I was going to miss them, but they knew how important this was for me. The summer flew by, and my brother just grew angrier, and angrier, until the night before I was set to leave, when he let himself into my room that evening, something shimmering around his neck, and a nasty looking grin on his fat face.

Mr. Morris (Part 2)

He got up, and he was at least easy on me. He had some lube, and he greased up his fingers, sliding them in, getting me used to the feeling. He was impatient though. I kept asking him to slow down, but he kept pushing me on, two fingers, and then three. I felt so..full, and it kind of hurt. But I wanted it. I’d always wanted it, from the first time I saw him, he’d known how much I wanted his cock in my ass. Reality kept shifting, and it was true. I had wanted him from the first moment I’d seen him. And I wanted him now. I was scared, but I started pushing back, begging him for it. He was breathing heavy now, and I felt the slick head of his cock press against my hole, and then he was inside me again, but this time…this time it was terrifying.

He told me later that he’d lost control of himself, and apologized. I still…still don’t quite remember everything that happened. It was just…there was so much. Like I was caught in a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions and history, some of which was mine, some of which was his, some of which had happened, and a whole lot that hadn’t. It lasted the whole time he fucked me, and I was just in a stupor, face planted in the pillows, while he pounded my ass like a wild man, screaming shit, calling me a fat slut, a whore, his cub bitch. Still, he…did apologize, right? But he said after that there wasn’t much he could do about what might have happened. He couldn’t take it back you see? I forgave him–I loved him too much.

I loved him because…because he was the first man who’d fucked me and treated me like a person, you know?

I did stay the night. He spooned me in bed, and I didn’t really want to leave in the morning. I…didn’t really want to go home, though I couldn’t quite figure out why. I drove home, and I was surprised that my mom wasn’t there…and then I realized that my mom and dad had divorced when I was just a kid, and left me and my brother to live with my dad. And I thought of my dad, and my brother. My big brother, who’d just gotten home from college, and my gut tensed up. I went inside, and tried to get to my room without either of them noticing, but my dad was waiting. He was…different. Fatter, for one. Much, much fatter. And meaner, and drunker. My brother joined him, and he was also chubby, and also drunk, even though it was morning. I told them I was tired, and didn’t really feel like doing anything, but they said that they didn’t care how I felt–they were horny, and I had chores to do.

Suck my dad’s cock. Clean my brother’s feet. Suck my brother’s cock. Get them new beers. Get them more snacks. They didn’t want those snacks, go to the store and get different ones. Clean the kitchen. Make dinner. Go get in the bedroom and lube up. Suck my brother’s cock while my dad fucks my fat asshole. Go to bed. Wake up in the middle of the night. Let my brother fuck my hole. Go back to sleep. Get up. Make breakfast. Suck my dad’s and brother’s cocks while they eat breakfast. Clean up my filthy mess of cum that I’d shot on the kitchen floor like a complete faggot.

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough that afternoon and back to my volunteer work, but mostly back to Mr. Morris. I told him everything. I told him that it didn’t seem right, but I couldn’t stop myself. It just felt…so normal to me. And worse…I liked it. I liked the way my dad and brother had treated me, it had made me feel so hot, and I’d jacked off more in the past day than I could remember–though I made sure to never do it in front of them. Neither of them wanted to see me touch my short faggot cock with them around. As I was telling Mr. Morris all of this, I realized I had my hand down my pants in the common room, stroking my hard cock, and I pulled it out quickly. He seemed embarrassed and worried, but he apologized again and consoled me and I leaned on his shoulder while he stroked my hair. He sucked me off again, and told me that all I had to do was get through the next few weeks, get to graduation, and then he’d have a present for me. A present he he hoped would make things better.

I really did like it, though, and so the next few weeks weren’t nearly as difficult as I had expected them to be. However, I was surprised by just how many men had become accustomed to receiving my services! My school schedule had shifted around, so that I suddenly had all of my classes with the beefiest, chubbiest, oldest male teachers, and I was serving every single one of them. No wonder I had such good grades! I never had time for school work with all of my chore duties at home, so this was really the only way I could hope to get to college. College! I had nearly forgotten. I hurried home, and found that one thing that hadn’t changed was my full ride, thankfully. At least I could get through this summer, and get away from my family then. Well, I’d have to leave Mr. Morris too, and that did make me sad.

And so I spent the last two weeks of my high school career on my knees. Sucking off teachers. Sucking off coaches. Sucking off beefy students. Sucking off my fat dad and brother almost constantly. And sucking off Mr. Morris of course. I kept asking him to fuck me again, but he said that we had to wait. He’d lost control last time–the amulet had…well, he never really explained what exactly had happened when he’d fucked me. All he told me was that he wanted to make damn sure that he got it right next time.

Mr. Morris (Pt. 1)

I procrastinated, I know. One month until I was supposed to graduate from high school, and I still needed fifty hours of community service. I pleaded with my principal to just waive the requirement, but she said her hands were tied–if I didn’t finish, I wouldn’t be able to walk, and I might not even get to go to college in the fall. So there I was–four weeks, fifty hours, twenty hours a week. Luckily, the service coordinator at my school had a suggestion. I wasn’t the first student to put it all off, and a local senior living center liked to have students come in during the evenings and weekends to keep people company. It meant that I would have to volunteer six days of the week, every week, but I’d be able to finish. I thought I’d lucked out–how easy could this be? All I had to do was sit around for a few hours and listen to old people talk. It was going to be so easy.

For a few days, it was easy. Really easy. The staff would pair us up with someone living in the center, and we would join them for dinner (which was free for us) and then have us sit with them for a couple hours after, and then send us home. In fact, some of the people were pretty cool. Then I got paired up with Mr. Morris. He was a bit on the short side, and rather fat with a short, full beard. He seemed a bit younger than most of the people who lived there, and it was a pleasant change from the usual sort of awkward conversation I was used to. I mean, I can’t quite remember what we talked about for the most part, though I do remember his showing me this amulet of his during dinner. He said it had been in his family for generations, but that since he hadn’t had any kids, there was no one he could give it to. It was a rather stunning piece of jewelry, coated with gold and with a number of jewels encrusted in it. Gaudy, maybe, but the way it caught the light…He left it out on top of his shirt all evening, and I just couldn’t quite bear to look away.

I was paired up with Mr. Morris every night after that. The staff just treated it like it had always been that way, even though they had made a point of saying before that they liked to rotate people around as much as possible to keep the experience fresh for everyone. I didn’t mind though–I loved being paired with Mr. Morris. By the end of the second week, I had realized something else–I loved Mr. Morris.

Now this was a bit strange for me. On one hand, I could remember being completely straight, and having a girlfriend, but it was like no one else could remember any of it. When I told Amber that we had dated, she laughed at me, and I did feel a bit foolish. I had come out to here my Freshman year, and we’d been best friends ever since, grading boys, the whole thing. She knew my tastes ran a lot older though, and bit more heavyset than people might find normal. Most of my crushes were on faculty, not on students. The strange feeling only lasted a few days though, and then it was perfectly normal for me, though I found myself acting different around Mr. Morris, my heart fluttering a bit when he put his hand on my knee, and whenever I jacked off, I kept having fantasies about him, only him.

Finally, I couldn’t bear it anymore, and I confessed that I not only loved him, but that…that I wanted him to be my first. I wanted him to be the one to take my virginity. I expected him to be disgusted, but instead he smiled like he’d known all along, the amulet glinting, and he suggested that I tell my parents that I would be staying overnight with a friend on Friday night. Amber covered for me, though when I told her why she was a bit disgusted. My parents knew I was gay of course, so staying over with Amber wasn’t a problem at all for them. In fact…they seemed almost…too ok with the whole thing. Regardless, I joined Mr. Morris for dinner that night, and he was dressed so handsomely, I swooned a bit. He was a perfect gentleman, but with how he kept pawing at my crotch under the dinner table, I knew he wanted it as much as I did. When the staff told us it was time to go, no one said anything when I joined hands with Mr. Morris and followed him to the elevator, and up to his apartment.

Once we were inside, I had no idea what I was doing, but he was gentle, and he kissed me, and…and he was everything I’d ever wanted in a man. He helped me out of my clothes, I helped him out of his. I was scared of sucking his cock, but he said he’d like to suck mine first. I agreed, happily, and he told me to get on the bed. I noticed that even though he was naked, he hadn’t taken off the amulet, and it seemed…excited as well. Like it was catching too much light in the dim apartment lighting.

Now, I suppose I haven’t said too much about myself up until now. I suppose part of the reason is that I was pretty average. Average build, not too muscular, but certainly not fat. Maybe a bit tall and gangly, but what teenager isn’t a little bit? I was smart. I’d gotten into every school I applied to, with even a full ride from one, which was good, because my parents weren’t very well off at all. And there I was, naked, mostly hairless, sitting on Mr. Morris’ bed, and this bear of a man climbed up on all fours, amulet hanging from his neck and shining and all I can think is how lucky I am. Then, he swallows my rock hard cock and…and I can’t even describe it. I’d always felt a connection to Mr. Morris, ever since I’d first met him. But with our first sexual contact…I could feel him…inside me. I swear the amulet was glowing now, but that probably was just my imagination, but Mr. Morris, he was in my body, or exploring my body, or something, and then things started happening. I noticed my stomach start to gurgle, and all of a sudden my flattish stomach was bulging out into a gut, pushing up and out. I…I freaked out, and scrambled away from his mouth, and as soon as his mouth was off my cock, the feeling was gone.

He could see that I was scared, and I asked him what had just happened. He told me…mostly everything. How the amulet could change things, if he wanted them to change. That the closer he got to something, the more he could change them. The whole time, he was rubbing my gut, and I had to admit, it felt really good. Then again, I’d always…kinda wanted to be fat, you know? It seemed natural, after all. I was attracted to fat guys, right? So why wouldn’t I want to be fat too? And maybe…maybe a bit hairier. A proper bear cub. At least…at least, that was how Mr. Morris explained it to me, and it made so much sense. He told me that he could make it happen. That he could make me fat, and no one would know the difference. I was nervous, but how could I say no to him?

I sat back on the bed, heart beating fast, but this is what I wanted, right? I just…couldn’t quite remember it being what I wanted, was the problem. He wrapped his mouth around my cock again, and he was inside me, and my gut was growing, and soon enough it didn’t matter. The gut became too big to really be a gut anymore, and my chest was filling out into fat moobs. I touched my fattening nipples, and they were so sensitive! I could feel cum leaking from my cock like a faucet, but I held off as best I could. I could see my thighs growing wide, my ass spreading out underneath me. My chin was a bit scratchy, and I felt a short beard there. I’d never been able to grow a beard! And there was hair on my chest! I ran my fingers through it, and it was too much for me. I shot my load, and he swallowed it all down, nursing on the head for a moment, before releasing me. I laid back, surrounded by fat, and sighed. I felt like…me. Like a me I hadn’t even known could exist. Like a me that shouldn’t exist. Mr. Morris was looking at me…fuck, he wanted me. I could see it in his eyes, and in his huge, fat, hard cock. I remember what he said next. “Roll over.” It wasn’t a request, he wasn’t asking for permission. I tried to stop myself, I was scared, I didn’t think I could handle anything in my ass, but my body was listening to him, not to me.