Remembrances – Episode 1 (Part 3)

He did, and whatever junk Mr. Elroy had messed with in his head–he did want this. He wanted it bad. As he sucked, he could sense that the changes to his body were slowing down, but they were by no means over. His frame filled out with a few more pounds of fat, his potbelly becoming a proper gut, and the last of the color drained from his hair, leaving it just a dingy grey, including a mustache which grew in over his lip, brushing the surface of Mr. Elroy’s cock as he sucked, making him shiver, groa, and then grab the back of Harry’s head and start fucking his throat for real. He choked and sputtered, but didn’t have to last long before Mr. Elroy came, cum flooding into his mouth, and he swallowed it all down, like Mr. Elroy wanted him to do, before letting the cock fall from his mouth.

“Yeah, look at you–that’s real nice. We’re gonna have a real nice time here, you and I, trust me,” Mr. Elroy said, stroking his wrinkled, jowled cheek.

“Please…I…just let me go, sir…” Harry muttered, shocked by how weak and pitiful his voice sounded, “I’m sorry, if I did something wrong, I just…this can’t be right. This can’t be real…”

“Oh, it’s very real, trust me,” Mr. Elroy said, “More real than you realize.”

There was, suddenly, a knock on the door. Hoping for someone who might save him, Harry went to shout, but the voice locked up in his throat. “Now now, don’t go making a scene, Harry. Let’s get you up and situated,” Mr. Elroy said, “Your son can wait a moment, right?”

Mr. Elroy helped him up to his feet, and pushed him into a sheet covered armchair, before telling him to stay put–then he went and answered the door, and to Harry’s surprise, his father walked into the room. “There you are, Mr. Willis. I was just getting your father settled in.”

Harry could see a moment of confusion on his father’s face, but it softened in moments. He had to–this was his only chance! “Dad! Dad, it’s me, It’s Harry!” he said, weakly, trying to get out of the chair, but he couldn’t manage to stand on his own, “Don’t…don’t listen to him, don’t!”

Peter looked at Mr. Elroy in alarm, but as soon as he met his eyes, he relaxed again. “Don’t mind him, Mr. Willis. Your father has had a long day moving in–he’s just tired, and confused. Why don’t you come in and say good night.”

Peter stepped into the apartment, and walked over to Harry. “Alright dad–Mr. Elroy is going to take it from here, alright?”

“I sure will–give us a day or two to get him unpacked and settled down, and then you should come by and visit.”

“No, dad, I don’t want to stay here, not with him.”

Peter looked at Mr. Elroy apologetically, “I’m sorry, he…doesn’t quite know himself anymore.”

“Well, that’s why he’s here, Peter. Don’t worry, these sorts of episodes come and go, but it’s good you brought him in early, before the dementia really sets in. It will make the transition easier.”

“I’m just…surprised. He was always so sharp, and now seeing him like this.”

“It can be a shock–you need some rest too, Peter. Now go on home, and come back the day after next for a visit–I guarantee your father will be in much better shape.”

“I work all day though. I don’t known when–”

Mr. Elroy shushed him. “The day after next. Come after lunch, around two. Don’t worry about work, family is more important, right? I’m sure they will understand.”

Peter nodded, thanked Mr. Elroy, and then left the apartment. Harry just stared at the door, aghast, unable to believe what had just happened. His dad…hadn’t even remembered him. No–he had remembered him, but not as his son–his dad somehow thought Harry was his father! “I…What did you do to him?”

“That young Harry you think you remember is gone now. He never existed. You’re Peter’s father now. It will take some getting used to, I know, but trust me, once we get you all unpacked, you’ll remember everything you need to remember, and you’ll be much more pleasant to your son the next time you see him, without sounding like a deranged old coot.”

“But I’m not crazy! I don’t have dementia, I’m not even old!”

Mr. Elroy smiled at him, but it had no warmth. “That is true–I’ve gone rather easy on you, so far. But trust me, Harry–if you give me much trouble, I can make sure that brain of yours looks like swiss cheese in a few hours. You’ll be bedridden for a few months, barely aware of yourself, pissing and shitting in a bedpan until you finally expire. It’s all the same to me, really. So, do you want to cooperate, and enjoy the now substantially abridged life you now have, or should I go ahead and call the nurses to take you to our hospice wing?”

Harry shook his head no, and with Mr. Elroy’s help, he got out of the chair, and allowed the man to lead him down the hall, to the small bedroom at the end. Like the rest of the apartment, sheets covered most everything, but Mr. Elroy uncovered the bed, helped Harry out of his clothes, and then shoved him over the side. “Now, how about a good night fuck, and then we get you tucked in?” he said, and slid his cock into Harry’s ass, “We’ll get you all unpacked tomorrow, and get you more…familiar with your new self. It’s my favorite part, really–I can’t wait to find out who Harry Willis was, can you?”

Remembrances – Episode 1 (Part 2)

Harry really didn’t have any interest at all in whatever the guy might want to show him, but he also definitely didn’t want to have his service hours scrapped by some vindictive adult. Together they went back into the building, and Mr. Elroy led them to a bank of elevators, and they entered one. In an enclosed space, Harry sized him up–if he tried anything creepy, he could probably take him. He looked to be around fifty, with a healthy bit of grey in his beard–probably in twenty or thirty years, he’d be another one of the old fucks around here too. They ended up on the third floor, walked down the hall to one of the rooms, Mr. Elroy pulled out a key and unlocked it without even knocking.

“Shouldn’t you at least knock or something?” Harry said, a bit disturbed about just walking into someone else’s room without permission.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Mr. Elroy said, “Now come in here.”

Harry peeked around the corner and into the apartment after Mr. Elroy turned the lights on, and saw why he’d said that–everything was all packed up into boxes, aside from the large furniture, which was covered in sheets. “So…what, we’re going through some old person’s things before they move?”

Mr. Elroy looked back at him. “No one who lives here moves away, young man. They die.”

Harry’s gut twisted at the realization, and he felt like an idiot. “S-Sorry. We really shouldn’t be in here then, you know? This is kind of fucked up.”

“Harry, come inside and shut the door behind you.”

He didn’t want to go in there–he no longer cared about his service hours, he’d go talk to the woman at the desk about it. He didn’t want to be anywhere near a bunch of stuff belonging to some cadaver…but instead, his legs moved him into the apartment, and he closed the door behind him.

“It was sad, watching him go. Watching him lose himself,” Mr. Elroy said, as he walked through the room. “Can you tell me anything about him, by looking at his things, Harry?”

“I mean…not without opening something up, I guess,” he said, “Look, I get it, alright? This is creepy. I don’t care about my hours, I just want to go.”

“Yeah, you can’t tell anything about him. You know as much about him right now, as he knew about himself two days ago, as he was dying. Advanced dementia, right at the end. Such a shame, really. So confused and scared, trying to understand who he was and what was happening to him. Fuck, just thinking about it is getting me hard all over again…” Mr. Elroy said, and adjusted the front of his pants.

The guy was some fucking creep–he fucking knew it. Harry turned and tried to open the door, but it had locked, or jammed, or something–the handle wouldn’t budge an inch. “Let me out you fucking weirdo!” he shouted at Mr. Elroy, and kept fighting with the door.

“Harry, calm down, and come over here please.”

Again, like before, his body disobeyed his mind, and he walked over to where Mr. Elroy was standing in the living room, his heart pounding in terror. How in the world was he doing this to him? It didn’t make any sense–he just wanted to leave. “Please, I’m scared, just let me leave…”

“You should be scared, Harry. Most people are scared when they see magic for the first time. But I’m hungry, Harry–and you, your life, you smell…delicious, you know. I have to eat healthy lives to keep my own health, you know, and I think you could learn a lesson about age.” Harry was close now, close enough that Mr. Elroy could reach out and touch him. “Such youth would be wasted on you, like it’s wasted on all you mortals.”

What happened next–Harry could never quite find the words to describe it. Mr. Elroy reached out with both hands, and rested them on both sides of his face, but as gentle as the touch was, there was spiritual violence that he felt deep in his core, a sheer terror, but his body could not flinch away as something–life, youth, spirit, vitality, potential–was drained from him right into Mr. Elroy’s fingertips. The touch likely only lasted seconds, but to Harry, it seemed to extend into hours and days, caught in that moment, unable to move, unable to resist, until they came away from him, and the exhaustion flooded into his body, sending him crashing to his knees.

“Look at me, let me look at you. Look up at your master, you old fuck.”

He did. He didn’t have the heart to fight him–his will and resistance had been sucked away along with whatever else Mr. Elroy had drawn from him. The glimmer of delight in the man’s eye frightened him…but he could see changes all the same. A bit of grey missing from his beard, a firming up of his flesh. With a wave of his hands in the space above him, Mr. Elroy summoned a thin mirror, hanging in the air, and Harry could see himself–his new self–for the first time. He had aged at least into his forties, if not a bit further–his hair was greying and receding, wrinkles had begun to crease his forehead, eyes and mouth. He looked away from his face and down to his body, where his muscles of youth had been sapped of their strength, and a potbelly had sprouted, pushing his shirt out where it rode up awkwardly.

Mr. Elroy waved the mirror back into the void from where he’d called it, and opened the fly of his pants, allowing his thick cock to fall free, leaking a bit of precum from the tip, inches from Harry’s face.

“Tell me what you want, you old fuck.”

Harry looked up at him, desperate and terrified, and when he met Mr. Elroy’s eyes…they weren’t the same eyes that had been looking at him before. Or perhaps they were. Perhaps, whatever veil had been guarding their true nature had dropped, and the piercing eyes he couldn’t look away from had always been there. They pushed into him–Mr. Elroy pushed into him, into his mind, and the words that came out weren’t the ones he’d thought–even the voice didn’t sound like his own. “Fuck, Could sure use yer big, fat cock lodged down my fuckin’ throat.”

“That’s what I thought–now start sucking.”

My Town (Part 4)

His dad left the stall and looked at his new figure and clothes in the grungy mirror, and true to his son’s words…it didn’t bother him at all. He knew it should, and he felt humiliated, but his small cock was rock hard in his jeans at the sight of the big bellied trucker he’d become in less than a minute.

“Something is still missing, I think–ah, of course! An old fuck like you, I bet you’d be smoking something like this,” Todd said, and again, his glove whipped out a small curved pipe, which he slipped into the pocket of his vest, “That’s for later–for now, why don’t we go have some real fun?” Todd said, with one hand on his father’s shoulder, he leaned in and started whispering into his dad’s ear, a grin twisting on his face as he did. All Edwin could do was listen, his jaw dropping in horror at what his son was telling him to do–at what his son was going to make him do–but by the time Todd was finished speaking…he wanted to do it too, and he groped his puny dicklet a couple of times, hiked the ass of his grimy jeans up, turned around and left the bathroom.

He surveyed the bar for a moment–it was much busier than it had been when he and his son had arrived, so many more…options. For a moment he looked at a table of rough construction workers enjoying some beers after work, but his eyes drew him to what he knew he wanted–what his son knew he wanted too. The thicket of bikers who had come in an hour ago, now quite drunk and clustered around the pool table after a long day’s ride. They were no group of hobbyists either–and looking at the grizzled fuckers over there, Edwin knew what he wanted–what he needed, and walked over to them.

Todd just watched as his father waded into the gang, and begged biker after biker to drag him into the bathroom and fuck his dirty trucker hole, loud enough so the whole bar could hear what was going on. The bikers didn’t know what to think about it, for a moment, and just ignored him, but Edwin didn’t like that, so he pushed things further, and started groping them, egging them on. That, it turned out, was a bad idea. Two bikers grabbed him under the arms and hauled him out the front door, the rest of the clientele giving them plenty of room as the rest of the gang followed them out, ready to give the faggot a proper beating in the parking lot. After they left, the bar picked up where things left off, and Todd slipped out, taking a spot on the porch of the bar, where he could see the ring of bikers form around his father, see him fall to his knees and beg for their cocks again, helplessly, terrified out of his mind, and then the first punch connected with his face.

The punch–the gloves shivered, and unable to stop himself, they took control of Todd’s hands, forcing open the front of his pants, one glove stroking his cock roughly, the other tugging at his balls, pulling them away from his body hard enough that he could almost hear the skin stretching. He deserved this, he thought, watching the bikers beat his father, his now faggot father, and still he was begging for a fuck–but he couldn’t stop. Todd knew he could do nothing–if he did nothing, the bikers would probably kill him, but that was better than his father deserved, it wasn’t…enough. The hand on his sack pulled away, took the cigar from his mouth, and whistled, loud and piercing, and every biker froze in place, turning to the stranger on the porch of the bar.

“Gentlemen,” Todd said, stepping down, feeling…taller. More imposing. Even a bit…older. His cock was still out, and he was still stroking it with his free hand, but none of the bikers seemed to mind this. “No, not gentlemen, nothing gentle about you lot, right?”

The bikers all laughed. It sounded forced, compelled from their lips.

“This has been a good show, I must say, but don’t you think it would be better for everyone if you simply gave the faggot what it wants? After all, what’s a gay biker gang without a sex slave pig to haul around with you, right?”

The bikers felt a wave pass through them. It left them feeling uneasy, and unsure of themselves–Todd could tell it wasn’t quite enough. He made eye contact with his father, eyes swollen, bloody mouth, a tooth lost on the ground beside him, and Edwin knew what he needed to do, what he had to say. “Please, I’m just a stupid faggot trucker. I’m worthless, with a tiny fuckin’ dick. I was made…to serve you, please let me be your biker bitch.”

“Come on guys, if one of you rough fucks hasn’t got a hardon, hearing that, then kill the pig.”

As it turned out, none of them were soft. With a few whoops, they headed for their bikes parked along the front of the bar, a couple dragging Edwin over and tossing him into a bitch seat. He glanced over at his son, eyes wide with terror, but Todd just sneered at him. “Don’t worry dad, you’ll be back home in a few days, probably.”

Edwin tried to shout something, but it was lost over the sound of the roaring engines. The gang took off, leaving Todd in the dust and smoke of his cigar, and with one more rough tug, his cock exploded all over the ground in front of him, his body shuddering. He fell to his knees, out of breath, mind heady with the rush of power he’d just wielded, to bend the wills of so many men, all at once–he’d known it would be possible, but the act of doing it was something else entirely. It was a minute before he could stand again, and when he did, he looked different. Taller by a few inches, shoulders wider, chest inflated with some muscle, a bit of grey in his beard. He went back to his father’s car and climbed in–he needed some sleep, and then, in the morning, he’d pay his brother a long overdue visit.

My Town (Part 3)

“Calm down dad–no one is going to notice a thing, as long as you don’t moan as loudly as you did when I fucked back at home,” Todd whispered in his ear, one gloved hand massaging the crotch of his slacks.

The two of them had spent the afternoon and early evening getting acquainted. Todd had finished his cigar while his father sucked him off nice and slow, and then he’d fucked him on his bed and made sure Edwin was nice and loud with the window’s open–enough that the neighbors outside might have possibly heard the commotion. So far, Todd had done his best to keep the gloves from altering his father too much, but the exciting afternoon had left a few effects. The most notable one, by far, was the beard Edwin was sporting across his face and neck–thick and bushy, and a bit greyer than the hair on his head. Still, a little weight there, a little hair there–he’d beared up nicely. By the time Todd was finished, he almost looked like someone he wanted to fuck.

Still, Todd wasn’t planning on keeping his dad as a personal slut. Sure, that had been his fantasy for years, but with his new gloves…well, he’d decided that he could set my sights a bit higher than that now. Still, his dad, and the rest of this fucking town, needed to be taught a lesson–a hard one. Well–really Todd was just going to make them live by their own rule–that appearance and presentation are everything. If Todd was going to hurt his father like he deserved to be hurt…well, he was going to have to suffer a few changes right?

But for now, they were relaxing for a moment, just a couple of guys in a booth at the trucker bar on the outskirts of town, the one his dad had always warned him about. It wasn’t quite a rowdy as it had been twenty years back, but it still carried a reputation. “Drink your beer, dad–look like you’re enjoying yourself a bit.”

Edwin picked up the mug and drank about half of it, and then set it back down. “Look, Todd, I’m sorry, alright? But enough is enough. I am your father, and I demand you get your hand off of my crotch.”

Todd just smiled, “Dad, I still don’t think you quite realize the level of shit you’re in–why don’t we go ahead and head into the bathroom for a bit?”

“Please, not here.”

“Calm down–we’ll do it wherever I fucking want, but this is going to be…different.”

The glove pointed to the bathroom, and his dad was compelled to go. Todd waited a beat, and then followed him. The bar was lively, and no one was paying them much mind. Inside the bathroom, he told his dad to go into the handicap stall, and then the glove ordered the other two guys present out of the room. They obeyed…but weren’t quite sure why they did. Then, Todd slipped into the stall with him.

He took a moment to look his dad over. Aside from the beard, and a bit of weight on his midsection, he was still the upstanding elder of the community he’d always believed he was. Todd had even made him dress in the same outfit he’d come home in, the waist of the khakis a bit uncomfortable, but otherwise untouched. “Now dad, you were always so ashamed of me, and my lisp, and my size. You had me marked as a faggot from the age of then–the fact that I like cock was always incidental. If I’d been more of a man, I could have at least hidden it, right?”

Edwin’s silence at the accusation was all the confirmation he needed.

“Well dad–since you think appearances matter so much, I think it’s time you tried on a new look.”

With both hands, he reached out and took hold of the suit coat his father had on, gave it a tug, and they both felt it squirm in his hands. A moment later, it wasn’t a coat anymore, but a ragged looking leather vest.

“How…how did you do that?”

“It’s easy, if you know the trick,” Todd said, ran a hand over the shirt, and the buttons disappeared, the front coming together seamlessly until it was just a grubby looking t-shirt, emblazoned with the logo of some forgotten truck stop, and the pants were next, turning into a pair of old jeans, the belt unlatching, and slinging over his shoulders into a set of suspenders. Lastly, he bent down and tugged at his shoelaces, watching as they grew up his ankles into a set of grubby work boots, caked with mud. “See? A brand new wardrobe in ten seconds flat,” Todd said, “but it’s what’s underneath that counts too, right?”

Todd grabbed hold of his father’s crotch with one hand, kneading his cock again, and this time Edwin felt a shift as his six inch cock began to retract, halving in size as his balls pulled up tight. His son’s other hand stroked his stomach, and it began to round out, becoming a hefty beach ball of a gut, stretching the t-shirt to the limit, the words of the logo a bit warped by the size, his father forced to lean back a bit to counter it. Todd came close, pressing his own stomach to his dad’s new belly, reached around, and palmed his ass, feeling it grow out as well, filling out the seat of his new jeans. Lastly, he mussed up his father’s hair, watching it grow out a bit and turn lanky, his beard tangled, and with a snap of his fingers a trucker cap appeared in one hand, and he rested it on his father’s head.

“Go on dad, have a look–but I think you’ll like what you see,” Todd said, stroking his father’s cheek with one hand.”

Emptied Out (Part 10)

Leonard had to admit it felt good too. Sliding deep into his son’s filthy ass, but he knew it was a tempting delight, one he needed to resist…but when he tried to pull away, he couldn’t. He didn’t have access to the rest of the body anymore–Leo had managed to lock his mind away in the cock, and as pre-cum leaked out, Leonard felt his strength ebbing more and more.

“Yeah, it feels real good, don’ it? Just let go ‘n enjoy yerself. Don’ worry ‘bout nothin’, I’ll take real good care a yer body fer ya–and yer boy here.”

Leonard tried to rouse himself one last time, for the sake of his son, but he couldn’t–and so he just rode the pleasure, feeling more and more of himself draining away, the pleasure building higher and higher in his balls as Leo fucked Nathan harder and harder. Then, his balls contracted, there was a great wave of pleasure, and he was gone. Leo felt him go, felt his entire body belong to him and him alone, finally, and collapsed on Nathan with a grunt, hugging him close, groping his flabby sides and fat belly. “Damn boy, yer a real good fuck–gonna have to make sure Master let’s me visit ya on occasion, help me blow off some steam while I’m on the road.”

He hefted himself back up and let his cock side from Nathan’s ass with a wet fart, and whistled at the new cock he had, now that he didn’t have to lug around that worthless, stodgy fuck anymore. It was a real man’s cock–nine inches, thick as a beer can, with a thick foreskin hanging over the head, even when it was erect. He rolled Nathan over onto his back and straddled his fat chest. “Here boy, got a treat fer ya–clean off my nasty cock. Make sure ya get under that foreskin fer yer dessert too.”

“Please…” Nathan said, “Please, don’t…just leave. Just leave me be, please, I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Leo ran one huge, greasy paw over Nathan’s buzzed scalp and jaw. “But boy, I ain’t ‘bout tah leave ya unsatisfied–that just ain’t mah way. ‘Sides, ya mean tah tell me a dirty pig like you is gonna pass up the oppontunity tah give me a real nice tongue bath?” He drooled a stream of tobacco spit onto Nathan’s chest, and felt the boy’s breath quicken under him. Leo took off his sweaty shirt, revealing a barrel chest covered in hair, and leaned in close. Even from a foot away, Nathan could smell the powerful stink of Leo’s pits, and his nose was drawn to them, licking at them tentatively at first, but with a bit of encouragement from Leo, he dug into them, savoring them in between drags off his fag. Leo hauled off his cowboy boots next, and once Nathan got a sniff of those, there was no going back. He spent half an hour with his face plasted to the soles, giving them long, loving licks from heel to toe, torn between his absolute shame and humiliation, and a lust he could neither articulate or deny.

Leo’s cock didn’t stay down for long, not with Nathan paying him such good attention, and he fucked him again, slower this time, with his real cock–his bigger cock. Nathan tried to hold off, tried to keep his fat from jiggling too much against the head of his dicklet, but it was too much. With a series of snorts he came, pumping the last remaining traces of himself onto the mattress below him, and Nate’s dumb grin spread across his face once again, bucking back harder into Leo’s cock.

In the corner where he’d settled, invisible, Greg watched the former father and son continue to fuck, pleased with the latest additions to his stable. He allowed them to finish, before revealing himself, and walking over to Nate, where he was dazed on hands and knees, feeling empty again. After all, he needed to get filled up one last time, and so Greg filled him in on what sort of life Nate could expect going forward. Greg had lots of daddies, and many of them traveled through the city on occasion–daddies like Leo, who was going to start work as a trucker the next week. Nate was going to be a very good host to all of them, Biff’s little whore boy, satisfying all of them, doing whatever they ordered him to do, and loving every moment of his new life, because it was exactly what he wanted.

They didn’t stay for dinner. Leo and Greg got back in the car, and Leo thanked his Master for the body by giving him a quick blowjob in the cab–Greg enjoyed sex most when he knew they could be discovered, after all, not that anyone would be able to stop him, of course. Leo finished, wiped the cum into his beard, and drove off to the bank. There were some papers that needed to be signed, by “Leonard”, transferring all of his assets to his new young dependent for safe keeping and dispersal, but Leo didn’t want to be rich. No, all Leo wanted was a life on the open road, smoking cigars, dipping, and drinking whiskey, fucking pigs in rest areas, resting his feet in front of some porn on the weekends. It might be an empty life, but for all of Greg’s daddies, it was the only life they could imagine ever wanting.

Emptied Out (Part 8)

***Three weeks later***

Leonard drove the rusted out pickup truck he’d been forced to trade his Tesla in for, by his fucking boy, into the dilapidated apartment complex. “This is the place?” he asked, “This is where my son is?”

Greg, sitting in the passenger seat beside him nodded. “Yep–I’m true to my word. You’ve done so good for me daddy, doing everything I asked, just so you’d have a chance to see him again.”

Leonard scowled at him–it wasn’t like he’d had much of a choice in any of it. He’d arrived at the college to pick up his son for the summer, and this fucker had been waiting for him, and…and Leonard didn’t know what he’d done to him, but these last three weeks, he’d turned his life upside down. Quit his job, sold his car, started dressing like some hillbilly redneck, drinking cheap whiskey, smoking cigars–usually with a lip full of dip too. He felt like a fucking freak…but if it meant getting him and his son out of this crazy fucker’s grasp, then yeah, he’d put up with it. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t get all of it back soon enough, once he got a chance to call the cops on this faggot. He just wished he could explain why in the hell he couldn’t seem to disobey any of the freaks orders–that, and why he seemed to be remembering less and less of his time with him. He would blank out for hours, and every time he came back and realized it, Greg would be standing there, staring at him with that dumb grin on his face–a dumb grin that seemed a little too clever.

They crossed the complex and made their way to an apartment on the ground floor. Greg didn’t knock, he just pulled his keys out from his pocket (it was a ring with a substantial number of keys, Leonard noticed) unlocked the door, and stepped inside. “Daddy Biff? Where are ya, you fuckin’ nasty pervert?”

The stench made Leonard’s eyes sting, and he gagged. It was horrid–who in the world could live like this, and what was his son doing in a place this filthy? He pushed in after his boy, and Greg shut the door behind him. It was dark, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he did eventually see the massively obese man, Biff he assumed, sprayed out on a couch in front of a TV showing some of the filthiest porn Leonard had ever seen.

“Hot damn, Master, made yerself a handsome one this time. Hope he gets tah hang out here on occasion, wouldn’t mind feelin’ that big beard round my cock, or rubbin’ against my hole,” Biff said, blowing a cloud of smoke in Leonard’s direction.

“We’ll have to see, Biff. Is he back in the bedroom?”

Biff nodded, “Just like ya asked. He’s pretty eager, and bored.”

Greg led the way down a short hallway, and Leonard could hear Biff resume masturbating as they left, moaning and belching as he did. “What the fuck is my son doing here, you fucker?” Leonard said in a hushed voice, “If that pervert laid a hand on Nathan, I’ll make sure you never see daylight again.”

Greg didn’t reply, he just got to the end of the hall, where the door was shut, turned and looked at Leonard. “Alright, your son is through this door. But, before you meet him, I think it’s time we introduce you two.”

“I think I know my own son.”

Greg laughed, “Oh no, you’ll get introduced to him in a moment–no, Leonard, I think it’s time you officially met Leo.”

It was like a curtain had been lifted, one he hadn’t even known was there all this time. The lost memories came back to him, and Leonard realized why he hadn’t had them–it was because they weren’t his at all. They were Leo’s. Leo, the man this fucking boy had been…building in his mind, all this time, and he hadn’t noticed any of it for a second. “Fuck son, ‘bout Gawd damn time ya let me out fer some damn air!”

It was his voice, but it wasn’t. He didn’t have that drawl, he didn’t…want to say that. He’d felt his lips move, and his lungs push air out, but those were Leo’s words, not his. “What…what the fuck did you do to me?”

Greg just smiled at him, “I made myself a new daddy, Leonard–a much better daddy that you could be. Still, there wasn’t enough room for both of you in that head there, so I’m afraid I had to move you, Leonard. You know where you are, right Leo?”

“Sure do, Master!” Leo said in his thick drawl, one hand pointing to his head, “I’m up here, in the brains!”

Greg nodded, “And you know where I had to put you, don’t you Leonard?”

Leonard knew it wasn’t true. It didn’t make sense, it had to be a delusion…but he nodded, gulped, and said, “In…in my balls.”

“And you know why you’ve been having a hard time remembering things, Leonard?”

“B-Because every time we shoot…some of me gets…lost…”

Leo groped himself through his crusty jeans, “Hell yeah, been gettin’ rid a ya seven ’r eight times a day! Master says yer about all dried up now–gonna get a brand new cock ‘n balls once we’re all through wit’ ya.”

Greg nodded. “But I wanted your last to be special, Leonard–some father and son bonding. Here, let’s get that second introduction underway.”

Emptied Out (Part 7)

“Thanks daddy, fuckin’ needed a good plowin’,” Nathan said, and yawned, “Kinda tired though.”

“Me too son–heh, and Master thought it’d take me a day. I got ya all emptied out in twelve hours, son.”

Nathan nodded, not really sure what his daddy was talking about, and collapsed on his side of the bed. He…wasn’t empty, was he? He felt full of cum, and food, for one thing…but something else was nagging at him. It didn’t seem important though–and when his daddy climbed in behind him and pulled him into a tight hug, surrounding him with his stink, Nathan just gave a deep sigh, and slipped off into sleep.

He awoke sometime later, feeling strange. Biff was still snoring beside him, and Nathan slipped his way free of his arms, and out of bed, lighting a fag for himself as he made his way to the bathroom, where he stood at the sink, staring at himself, and wondering if he was going crazy. He’d just had…a dream. A dream where he was someone else–someone thin, someone who dressed in suits, and knew stuff, and didn’t sit around with their dad all day jacking off and getting fucked. It had been an awful dream, and that young man had been…screaming at him. Screaming at him to wake up and get help, that this wasn’t right, that the massively fat, disgusting face he was looking at in the grungy mirror wasn’t who he was supposed to be. That he had to fight back before it was too late.

He ran his hands down his fat body, feeling his heavy moobs hand jiggling his big gut, trying to…imagine what it might be like, being skinny like he’d been in the dream. It couldn’t be right, could it? No–no, this was right…he was so…sure, somehow, but then why was he still thinking about that strange dream? Why was he still thinking about going to the phone and calling the police? What could he even say that would make any sense, when he was too stupid to know what was even going on?

He felt his guts shift a bit, reached around, and tugged out the dildo daddy had put in him before they’d fallen asleep out with a long fart. It made him grin, but he did need to shit. He’d feel better if…if he was empty, right? He sat down on the toilet, gave a grunt, and dropped a big load of into the water beneath him, along with a long series of farts, the stench wafting up around him, and making him horny again. He hefted up his gut, but he hadn’t been able to reach his puny dick in so long–still, he knew what to do. He started rocking on the toilet, feeling his cock slipping in and out of his gunt, while he toyed with his nipples and smelled his pits, and the stink of his shit on the air. He was…empty, but not empty enough. He could be emptier.

The voice in him, he could almost hear it begging him, Begging him to stop, begging him to get a hold of himself, and get help, or at least run. But he was so horny–so horny all the time. He saw a pair of daddy’s briefs of the tile beside him, lunged down and got them, and sniffed them, humping his own fat a bit faster, getting closer and closer until at last he came with a shudder, filling his fat with a load of cum, and the voice, and the dream, slipped out of him until there was just a pleasant nothing, and Nate was left on the toilet, jaw gaping and eyes glazed, for about half an hour, until Biff stumbled into the doorway, looking for his son, and finding him there, and smelling cum on the air.

“Guess we didn’t quite get it all out then–was wonderin’ ‘bout that,” Biff said, “I doubt there could have been much left though/ Still, gotta fill ya up with one last thing–got just the stuff though, cause daddy’s gotta piss, ‘n yer blockin’ the pot.” Biff stepped up to Nathan’s face, lifted his gut, and stuck his cock into his slack mouth, “Ya sure do love the stuff though–love drinkin’ piss as much as that soda a yers. Makes it a whole lot easier fer me, never gotta git up from the couch anymore, not with a urinal right next tah me tah drink it down on the spot.”

He let his piss go, and while most of it got in his mouth, a good amount ran down onto Nate’s fat gut as well, and his heady musk developed a definite tang of old piss along with the rest of his odor.

“You though–not so good with control. Sometimes ya catch it in an old two liter bottle, so ya can drink it while ya watch some real pervy porn–but just as often ya just let it go right where ya are. I don’t mind ya reekin’ of piss, or soakin’ down the bed and the couch–good thing yer dad’s as nasty minded as you are, right?”

Nate came out of his daze–but not as Nathan. Nathan was all gone now, he was just Nate. All he knew was what Biff, his daddy, had spent the last day putting into him, there was nothing else to him beyond gluttony, perversion, and filth. He drank down the last of his dad’s piss, and then licked his lips, and relit the fag he had between his fingers. “Thanks daddy, was gettin’ thirsty.”

“No worries son–now come on, let’s get back tah bed.”

He helped Nate back up onto his feet, and the two of them shared a smoky kiss and a grope, before Nate led the way back to the bedroom. He was most of the way there when he realized there was something warm running down his thighs. “Fuck, sorry dad, I’m pissin’ all o’er the floor.”

“Damn it boy, ya were just sittin’ on the toilet.”

“I fergot tah go though…besides, it smells real nice. Makin’ my little dicklet all hard,” he said, bucking a bit, “Wanna go watch some porn daddy? I’m…kinda awake now.”

“Fuckin’ pig–I’m tired as hell. Let’s go to bed.”

“But daddy, I’m so fuckin’ horny…can’t ya just fuck me a little?” Nate said, walked up to his daddy and started licking his pits, groping his daddy’s cock, but it wasn’t getting quite hard enough for a fuck.

“Look, I know what’ll settle ya down–why don’t I work mah fist up that ass a yers?”

“Fuck daddy, would ya?” Nate said, and got on the bed, wiggling his ass in Biff’s direction, “I sleep so good after ya ream me real hard.”

“Fuck son, yer everythin’ I coulda ever wanted in a boy,” Biff said, as he walked over and slipped two fingers in his hole.

“I love ya daddy–fist me real good, make my little dicklet shoot real nice.”

“Ya got it pig–ya know I’ll do anythin’ fer mah boy.”

Emptied Out (Part 6)

“Ya know, ya hurt my feelin’s boy, sayin’ ya didn’t like the smell a mah farts. Ya didn’t really mean that, did ya boy?”

“N-No daddy,” he muttered.

Biff threw an arm around his shoulders, and pulled Nate into his sweaty, musky pits. “Yeah boy, ya love how yer daddy smells. The smell ‘n taste a mah pits, my grungy belches blown in yer face, but ya love the smell of a good fart more ‘n anythin’ else–ya think they’re funnier than hell too, laughin’ every time ya fire one off. Can’t remember how many times I’ve caught ya on the toilet, jackin’ off tah the smell a yer own shit, snortin’ like a nasty piggy.”

Nate was listening, but was much more interested in Biff’s stinking pit. He dug into the sweaty hair, sucking it clean, lifted a leg and let out a long fart, giggling as he did, feeling the gas jiggle his fat ass.

“Yeah, yer a real dirty boy–nastier ‘n yer daddy. The funk rollin’ off a ya–hot damn, whenever I take ya outside, people get one sniff a ya ‘n run fer the hills. Ya love it though–wouldn’t ever think a showerin’, just like yer daddy.” He pushed Nathan away from him, and stood up, “Here boy, ya like this crack better, right? Daddy don’t wipe too good–can’t really reach, and neither can you. Still, we’ll take care a each other, right Nate? That’s what family’s for.”

Nate heaved himself forward and started chewing at the back of Biff’s whities, and all the skidmarks on the ass. Biff let loose with another fart right into his son’s face, and Nathan let off a long moan, feeling his mind begin to resurface as he laughed. “Fuck daddy, that was a real good one!”

“Felt a little wet boy. Git in there ‘n clean it out fer daddy like a good son should.”

He peeled down the back of Biff’s whities, spread his hairy ass with both hands, and caught a whiff from his incredibly ripe pits as he did. Damn he smelled good–not as good as daddy did, but Nathan had always had a special love for his daddy’s musk for as long as he could remember. He got into the crack and licked at it, cleaning it out and moaning, Biff firing off one fart after another right into his boy’s face, driving him into a sexual frenzy. “Fuck daddy, yer so fuckin’ sexy.”

“Ya wanna hump daddy’s ass boy?”

“Fuck yeah daddy, fuck!” Nathan said, and heaved himself up. He picked up his huge apron of fat and dropped it on the small of Biff’s back, and started grinding his cock against his daddy’s ass drooling and belching as he did, thinking about all the porn he’d watched, thinking about how hot it would be too fuck his daddy like the bears were doing on the screen. “Fuck daddy, can I stick my dick in yer ass like in a real porno daddy? I bet it’d feel real good.”

“No boy, just hump my crack–and keep those whities on. Blow another load fer daddy like a good boy.”

“But daddy, I…fuck, I wanna fuck ya,” Nathan moaned.

“No boy, I just wanna feel ya ruttin’ against my fat like a fuckin’ mutt–now hurry up ‘n cum.”

Nathan nodded, and kept humping. He threw up one of his arms, smelling his own musk, snorting it down, but it wasn’t until he let off a wet fart of his own, the stench filling his nose, that he lost it and came again, snorting and rutting for a moment, until he froze, eyes slack again, even more of Nathan disappearing into the grungy whities he had on.

“Now boy, ya should apologize fer wantin’ tah fuck me,” Biff said, “After all, we both know that little dicklet of yours is too small to git in anyone’s ass, right? Hell, ya can’t even reach it–good thing it’s so sensitive that ya can get it tah blow just by grindin’ it against yer fat gut in yer whities.”

“S-Sorry daddy, I just got so horny,” Nate said, swaying slightly.

“I know boy,” Biff said, heaving himself up, “But when ya get horny like that, what ya really want is fer yer daddy tah fuck yer ass, right boy? Ya love gettin’ fucked more ‘n pretty much anythin’. Ya gotta have somethin’ up yer ass all the time, or ya just don’t feel right. All day long, sitting here, bouncin’ on dildos, farting around them with that loose hole of yours, feelin’ yer fat jiggle against that inch long dick a yers until ya cum in yer whities, beggin’ me tah fuck ‘n fist ya. Ain’t that sound like what ya’d do boy?”

“Aww fuck yeah, daddy, fuck me with yer big dick.”

Biff pulled his boy into their bedroom, filled with dirty laundry and ashtrays on every surface, and shoved his obese son onto the bed, yanking down his whities. “Fuck boy, been so long since I been with anyone, n’ now I got mah very own pig tah fuck all day long. Ya’ll like that, won’t ya? Bein’ mah whoreson?” He got down and started eating out Nathan’s dirty crack. “Come on boy, gimmie a fart–Daddy loves the smell a yer gas, gets me hard as a rock every time.”

Nate bore down with a grunt, and let loose another fart, right in his daddy’s face, and listened to him moan, while he laughed. “Fuck daddy, that was a good one,” he said.

“Sure was boy, got yer daddy all hard ‘n horny fer yer nasty hole,” Biff said, running his dick along Nate’s spit slick crack, before sliding it into his son’s well practiced hole. Nate begged his daddy to fuck him harder and deeper, feeling the sweat dripping from Biff’s face onto his hairy back. Still, Nate loved every moment of it–because he loved getting fucked, especially by his daddy. He ground his puny cock against his gut, but he was exhausted after humping his daddy a second ago, and ended up just lying there, enjoying his daddy’s cock inside him. After a while, Biff came, filling him up, and Nathan pushed his way back, but there was so little room for him now–Nate seemed so much more…normal to him. Everything else just seemed so…wrong.

Emptied Out (Part 5)

Nate nodded dumbly, and Biff helped him out of the tub, and led him by the hand out into the living room, and sat him down on one side of the couch. Licking his lips and groping his own cock, which he still hadn’t shot today, though he’d soaked the front of his whities with plenty of precum already, watching his son change right in front of his eyes, he put on his favorite porno of two slobs cleaning off each other’s fat bodies, and let Nate watch for a bit, while he went into the kitchen and returned with two big bottles of soda and bags of snacks, which he sat by them both. “What ya love most of all, Nate, is the same thing Daddy loves–wastin’ yer whole day on this stinkin’ couch, watchin’ porn, ‘n edgin’ yer cock. Fuck boy, I been alone so damn long, dreamin’ ‘bout this day, thinkin’ ‘bout when I’d finally get a son a my own, and now we can do it together–ya love spendin’ the whole damn day edgin’ with daddy, right son?”

Nate nodded, and started groping himself again, staring at the screen. Biff stuck the cigarette back in his mouth, and he started digging into the snacks and drinking the soda as well, letting off belches as he did.

“Yeah, just a dumb ass boy, as dumb as your daddy. Can’t read, can’t really think ‘bout anythin’ important, but sure does love feelin’ good, ‘n this makes ya feel real good boy, endulgin’ like this, without a care in the whole world, just a horny, filthy pig,” Biff sat down with him, the couch sagging between them and making them roll together slightly, “A fat horny pig just like yer daddy.”

Nathan surfaced again, but slower this time. He could tell something was very wrong with his head, like someone had taken his brain and smoothed out some of it’s bumps and ridges. Still, watching porn was fun, and he had plenty of snacks to eat and fags to smoke–but he couldn’t help but feel like it was…wrong. He looked over at the computer, knowing he’d thought about something earlier, something about how to use it to get away, but getting up just seemed like so much work. Better to just sit here, and watch the two fat pigs rutting on the screen, like his daddy was doing. One movie ended, and Biff got up and started another one. There wasn’t a clock that he could see, and the windows were blocked out–Nathan had no idea what time it was, or how long they’d been here, groping himself in his daddy’s nasty underwear.

“Enjoyin’ yerself, Nate?”

Nathan didn’t know quite what to say, but after a moment, he nodded. He…was enjoying himself, he supposed. He liked sitting this close to his daddy, groping his cock, feeling their big bellies shifting against one another–even if his daddy kind of stank, and not in a good way. Still, this was wrong. He knew this was wrong. “D-Daddy? I don’t think we should be doing this…” he said, hesitantly, not quite sure how to put his reservations into words.

“What are ya talkin’ bout son? This is what we always do, ain’t it?”

He was right–but he could remember something else, he could remember himself this morning, dressed in pressed khakis and a button down shirt, excited to go home for the summer and to finally be away from his nasty housemate. He…knew that was right, somehow, even if it now felt so far away. “I…I want some more snacks, daddy,” he said, got up and waddled towards the kitchen, passing close to the computer along the way, but when he saw the keyboard, all of the letters swam around him–he had no idea what any of them even were. That…wasn’t surprising, though–he never learned to read, right? Daddy didn’t see any reason for a nasty boy like him to learn much of anything.

“Thought ya were gettin’ snacks, son,” Daddy said, his voice a bit cautious, seeing Nathan staring at the computer, thinking hard, “Why don’t you come on ‘n sit back down here, ya still got plenty tah eat ‘n drink.”

Nathan waddled back over, and sat down with a mighty belch, making his daddy laugh, and he chuckled too.

“Nice one son, but get a load a this,” Biff said, leaned away from Nathan and let loose a long, wet fart in his direction. The stench brought tears to his eyes, and he coughed, nearly dropping his cigarette.

“Fuck daddy, that’s nasty,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” Daddy said, leaning in close and digging his hand under Nathan’s huge gut to his cock. “Smellin’ mah farts always makes me so damn horny, boy. Fuckin’ kiss me, give me some a yer smoke.”

Nathan leaned in and they smoked each other out, one eye still on the porn playing on the TV, and Nathan didn’t feel like this was…so bad, really. He liked how his daddy rubbed his cock, and how it gave him two free hands to stuff his face, when he wasn’t breathing in Biff’s cigarette smoke. The front of the whities he had on were sticky and wet still from the other load he’d shot into them–not to mention how sweaty his gunt had become as well in the hot, stuffy apartment. He was humping into Biff’s hand now, feeling his gut shake around him, Biff using his free hand to tweak his boy’s nipples, watching him sweat and get closer to another orgasm. “That’s a good boy, gonna get ya so empty…”

Empty. He remembered Greg then, remembered himself, his old self, but it was too late to stop it–he came again, and felt himself fading away, falling back against the couch.

Emptied Out (Part 3)

“Hot smoker, just like yer daddy,” Biff said, and pushed some smoke in Nathan’s direction. It…smelled different, coming from him. Hotter, somehow, and he blew some of it back, his hand slipping back down to his crotch, thinking about how horny he always got, trading smoke with his daddy like a couple of perverts. Biff noticed, but didn’t say anything, just kept pushing smoke in his direction, watching Nathan slowly lose focus, groping himself more and more, his hand slipping into his still damp khakis to stroke himself properly. He finished his second cigarette, and came back to himself for a bit, pulling his hand away, but he only lasted half an hour before asking daddy for another.

“Sorry boy. Ya want another cigarette from me, you’re gonna have to shoot a load. That, or ya gotta give me some good road head.”

The idea of getting anywhere near Biff’s cock horrified him, and he wasn’t about to jack off again…but he needed a cigarette. Biff kept pushing smoke in his direction, and it was maddening, and hot and sexy, and his hand slipped back down. What harm was there in…one little cum shot? It wasn’t so bad, right? Biff kept sending him smoke, and watched him give in, stroking faster now, until after a couple of minutes he shot again, and just like before, Nathan went slack, eyes glazed over and mouth hanging open.

“Emptied yerself out again, Nate?”

“Yes daddy…” he muttered.

Biff took the next exit off the highway into a small town, “Good, I was gettin’ hungry. Let’s get us both filled back up, eh?”

There was a fast food joint right by the off ramp, and he pulled into the drive through, and the guy taking the order thought it was a joke at first, Biff ordered so much food. It took a little while to get everything, but before too long, they were parked, with bags and bags of burgers and fries–with plenty of soda to wash it down. Biff pulled out a burger and put it to Nate’s mouth. “Go on Nate–feed that big ol’ gut a yers.” Nate mindlessly took a bite, chewing slowly and swallowing. Biff grabbed one of his slack hands and put it on the burger to hold it. “Faster boy. Ya eat like a fuckin’ pig. Don’t care how messy ya get, ya just need it in ya.”

Nate started eating faster now, and Biff kept encouraging him, reminding him to take plenty of drinks of soda–after all, he loved soft drinks, and anything sweet. He was hungry, always hungry, even hungrier than his dad, usually. Hell, he was fatter than his dad was even–he could remember how proud he was the day his gut sagged down even lower than his dad’s did, couldn’t he? Nate kept trying to agree, but his mouth was too busy shoveling in food for any of it to be intelligible. He ate and ate, his gut expanding at a rapid pace as he did, the buttons on his shirt popping off one by one, the undershirt riding up as his gut dropped between his thighs, his pants stretched to the limit as he grew larger and larger. He became more animated, slowly, Nathan coming back to the fore as he filled himself back up, but he didn’t stop eating–he couldn’t stop eating, sucking down his soda, and sucking down on his cigarette, of course. He was such a good son, cumming for his daddy, and now he got his reward–another smoke, and a massive fast food meal to boot! It wasn’t until he finished most of the food off–his dad having eaten a sizable portion as well, that he leaned back, let off a belch, and realized just how much bigger he’d become–and realized that they’d stopped moving.

Nathan fumbled with the door handle, and nearly fell out of the van. As he did, he felt a massive shudder in his fat as his khakis, and underwear, finally burst from the pressure, and he was left standing in the parking lot, in full view of the people in the restaurant, naked from the waist down, a massive, hairy apron hanging free…and he didn’t know what to do. He needed to get help, but not like this. He couldn’t possibly let anyone see him like this!

“Son, git yer fat ass back in the damn van!” Biff shouted at him, and Nathan struggled to resist.

“You…you aren’t my dad! This…this can’t be real, I’m just imagining this. I can’t…actually be this big,” he muttered, hefting his gut and letting it fall, feeling it thwack against his thick thighs. “I mean…I eat lots, but…but not like this.”

“Boy, git back in the van.”

“No. No, I’m not…going anywhere else with you.”

Biff sighed, “Boy, git back in the van, and we’ll go ‘round again ‘n git ya some shakes. Ya are still hungry, ain’t ya? One a every flavor–enough tah git ya home.”

HIs gut rumbled like an earthquake, and his mouth watered, thinking about it. Fuck, he was…hungry. So hungry, even though he’d just eaten so much food, he could barely believe it was still inside him. “But…but I…”

“Son, what ya think’s gonna happen when those folk call the cops on ya? Think Master’s gonna be happy when he’s gotta bail yer fat ass outta jail? Probably just leave ya in there with ‘em, ‘n make ya some jailbitch. Now git in the car, ‘n let’s git dessert.”

He was right–there was nothing he could do looking like this–without even any clothes to wear. That…and dessert sounded really damn good. He got back in, surprised by how hard it was maneuvering his huge bulk, and Biff drove him back through, ordering a shake in every flavor as promised–twelve in total–and then headed back for the highway while Nathan sucked down shake after shake, and cigarette after cigarette to go with them. He managed well enough for the rest of the ride at least–though Biff kept ripping off the worst farts Nathan had ever smelled in his life, laughing after every one he made, and refusing to roll the windows down. Thankfully the food made him sleepy, and not too long after finishing the last shake, he passed out for a while, snoring and belching away, Biff reaching over to grope his boy’s massive fat belly occasionally, and then drove into the city, arriving at the small apartment complex where he lived not too long after that, in the evening.