Curse of the Homophobe (Part 1) [Interactive]

Evan was tired of it. Tired of the insults, of being shoved into lockers at school, of guys shouting “faggot” and “queer” at him from the windows of passing cars. All of it. There wasn’t anything he could do about it though–and in his opinion, there wasn’t even anything that “faggy” about him–not like some of the guys he’d seen, or some of the guys in the porn he liked to watch, he supposed. Yeah, he had a bit of a lisp, and he tended to sashay slightly–that, and he definitely loved sucking dick. Still, where the insults would have reduced most people to tears and depression, Evan reacted differently. He was angry. Angry all of the time, so angry, he barely even noticed it anymore, it was just a constant, seething, bubbling mass in his guts that never went away. He’d have fantasies though. Fantasies about the men who bullied him, about beating them, humiliating them, doing what they did to him right back, but tenfold. Maybe it was that, which drew the spirit to him–but in any case, he never really knew why it appeared to him that night in his bedroom, after one particularly cruel fantasy, thinking about some jocks he had a run in with earlier that day. He’d wiped up his cum, and there it had been, a massive, hulking shadow glued to his wall, two bright, gem-like eyes where it’s head was, staring at him.

The terror in him was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, as it slid along the wall, closer to him. Then, he saw something. A powerful vision overtook him, similar to the fantasy he’d just had, but far more powerful. Bending over Curtis Barrister, the top jock of the school, and Evan raping his hole while he rained abuse down on him–but it was so vivid…like it really was happening. Then, it was gone, and he heard a voice in his mind.

I can give you the power. You can have your revenge on all of them, if you so desire it.

For real? Was this just some hallucination? A nightmare? If it was, then does it really matter? He did want it. He had a feeling this thing wouldn’t have come to him, if he hadn’t known he would accept its offer. The darkness slid closer to him, and then slid over him, and everything went dark, and he couldn’t move his body. The darkness was more inside him, and he could feel it, in that anger in his stomach, changing it, changing…him somehow, and he came again, the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had, and then fell right asleep, the spirit chuckling in the dark, as it faded away. Evan would have his revenge, certainly, but it likely wouldn’t be the sort of revenge he was expecting. Anger could twist people in strange ways, after all–and vengeance was never kind to the avenger.

Evan woke up the next morning, certain it had been a dream, and nothing more. He got up and got ready for school, but he still couldn’t shake the sensation that something about him was different. He was still angry, but it…tasted different, when he felt it, but that didn’t make sense even to him, when he experienced it. There was a definite sense, too, that things would be different today, like how he felt when a thunderstorm was on the way. He said goodbye to his mother, left the apartment and hit the street, walking to school…wondering when the first insult would hit. But the anticipation was different too, in his guts. Usually he just felt fear and anger as he braced himself, but today, part of him was almost…excited. Eager to experience it, and that terrified the rest of him even more. Still, who knew what the day would hold? Maybe everything would be fine. The spirit in him knew better, though–and it was eager to see the curse it had laid on Evan work for the first time.

He made it all the way to school, however, before the first insult came his way–and sure enough, it was none other than Curtis Barrister himself, and his posse of football friends, calling him a faggot. His face burned red…but he felt that same heat infusing the rest of him too, and he was feeling a bit…sick. He went to the bathroom near the entrance of the school and ducked into one of the stalls–and as soon as he was alone, he looked down, and saw his body was…changing. He grew six inches taller, body filling out with muscle, his skinny jeans and tank top became gym shorts and a t-shirt bearing the mascot of the high school–along with word football. No–he tried to fight it, but there was nothing he could do–when he stumbled out a minute later, Evan was gone–or at least, he wasn’t the Evan he should be. He was…a jock. Strong jaw, flat top, cocky grin, and worst of all, he knew he was best friends with Curtis.

His head throbbed, and Evan–the gay Evan, receded. In his place, someone else took control of his body, a very, very straight Evan–sort of. He was, still gay, actually–but this version of him was deeply in the closet, barely able to admit it to himself. Still, this new version of himself would know exactly how to act around his straight jock friends–and with his girlfriend, Stephanie Hawkins. The whole day was torture, hanging out with his new jock buddies, kissing his girlfriend, making fun of nerds and even throwing a few barbs at his friends…but as he did, Evan noticed something else. Whenever he threw a casual insult at Curtis or one of the other jocks…they changed. Not much, but enough that he began to understand what this curse was–and what the spirit was offering him.

After practice, he and Curtis happened to hang back chatting a bit, and showered alone together. He accused Curtis of looking at his cock, and called him a faggot, and watched as his bully started to get hard–and so Evan decided to have his way with him, shoving him up against the shower wall and fucking his loose hole, calling him a faggy sissy, a weak little cocksucker, and watched as his words came to life. When he finally came, it was a very different Curtis who fled the locker room–barely 150 pounds, short, ass and mouth hungry for cock all the time–the exact kind of faggot Curtis had always seen him as. He was horrified by what he’d done–but even more horrified when he saw himself in the mirror of the locker room. He was…massive. Thick with muscle, hairy all over, the exact kind of alpha jock he’d always detested–and feared. This…he wasn’t stuck like this, was he? He could…sense that the curse would, now that he’d dealt with his primary target, let him change back, or he could visit a few of the other jocks on the team too. But if he did…who would he become then? Would he even remember who he’d been before? No–he wanted to change back–he pushed his way forward, and saw the hulking frame in the mirror begin to recede at last.

He was back in his old body, but not everything was back to normal. He was more muscular for one thing, and he remembered, now, that he was on the track and field team, when he’d never played sports once in his life. He was hairier too–was this all because of what he’d done to Curtis? He got home as quickly as he could, but struggled to fall asleep–and got a text from a number he didn’t know late at night–it was Curtis, looking for a fuck. He had new memories now of Curtis, a hopeless sex addict, as a frequent fuckbuddy at school, and his stomach turned into knots all over again. He could hear the spirit laughing in his very soul, and Evan knew all he could do was wait until someone else insulted him–and he’d be forced to change them as well.

Alright, so for those of you who visit CYOC, this is loosely inspired by the branch of straight TF and “were-breeder” stories that are somewhat popular (and which I have contributed to in the past). I’ve always found an appeal in them, but also found some of them super uncomfortable, so I want to push them in a slightly different direction with this interactive. This intro is a bit longer than usual, just to give an overview of how the curse functions, but for clarity’s sake, Here’s an explanation:

First, when Evan hears a homophobic insult directed at him, he will find himself helplessly transforming into someone similar to the person who insulted him. For example, if it’s a jock, he becomes a jock too, or a redneck, or a skinhead, or whatever it might be. Evan is still present, but his body’s new persona is doing most of the driving–that is, he can’t really act out of his new “straight” character. That said, his personas are all still, technically, gay–but deep in the closet.

Then, in his straight-acting persona, reality shifts so that he is friends with the person who insulted him–and he discovers that whenever he insults him (and people around him who share his views) those insults are capable of changing them.

However, the more he changes them, the more he changes as well, the persona becoming more and more extreme, and the more danger he is in of forgetting about his real self, and the persona taking over for good. He can only change back after he turns the original insulter gay and has sex with them (he can be bottom or top, but will usually tend towards top in this scenario), but he can remain in the persona longer if there are other people he wants to change–at the risk of losing more of himself. When he changes back, he keeps some of the qualities of the persona he had before–the more extreme he became, the more likely the changes will stick.

So, with that out of the way–what sort of person is going to insult Evan next?

A gang of skinheads threaten him on the street.
Some gaming nerds at school being edgelords.
Some middle-aged construction workers on his way to school.
A prudish, older conservative christian neighbor.

Here’s the twitter poll!

Here’s the Patron poll!

Polls close in two days.

CoB: Family Matters [Sketch, Pics]

I’ve had this idea rolling around for a bit, but no time to make it into something longer. It’ll still probably get turned into a full City of Bears story at some point, with a few additional twists to it.

“Fuck boy, you’re such a hot fucker, damn,” Brett said, pushing back against his cub’s cock as he fucked him. Malcolm just moaned, as is other daddy. Garth, gripped him tight, around the belly, and pushed his own cock a little deeper into the boy’s ass, sandwiching him between his two daddies, right where he belonged, right were he assumed he’d be forever.

After a few minutes, they got their rhythm together, and fucked in a train for a few minutes. Malcolm, assaulted on both sides, lost his load first, pumping his cum deep into Brett’s ass, both of his daddies telling him how proud they were of him. Garth pushed the boy over the side of the bed and fucked him a bit deeper, while Brett got on the bed, and slid his cock into Malcolm’s mouth, the two bears leaning over him and sharing a kiss until they came, filling the cub at both ends.

Afterwards, the three of them laid in their sizable bed together, cuddling, discussing their plans to go out the next night and where in the city they might like to go, and it wasn’t long before his two daddies were snoring–but Malcolm wasn’t feeling very sleepy, he was still so damn horny. He slipped out from between his two daddies, and went to the computer to look at some porn–navigating to something a bit…wilder than his daddies were particularly interested in, but which Malcolm had been enjoying lately. Just looking couldn’t do any harm, right?

It was a few days later that malcolm woke up, and discovered the first tattoo. Thankfully it was…somewhat discrete, and he managed to cover it before either of his daddies saw it, and he frantically tried to figure out what to do. He…wasn’t changing, was he? He didn’t feel any different. Maybe it was just something residual from the club the day before, and he just hadn’t noticed it. In any case, he kept it covered up that day, slipping out of the house to investigate some services that might help remove the tattoo–but he was dismayed to find that everywhere he went, they couldn’t seem to get rid of it.

The next day, there were more, and he didn’t cover them quickly enough. His daddies saw them, and threw a fit, demanding to know where he’d gotten them, demanding to know what in the world he was thinking about. Their anger confused him–on one hand, he felt so shameful for letting something like this happen and come between him and his daddies, even if they were a bit vanilla and stodgy, but on the other hand, he felt something inside him craving punishment, and discipline, and he found himself flipping between two extreme moods. One moment, he would be screaming back at them, furious for not caring or understanding what he wanted, and the next he would be apologizing, stripping, and begging his daddies to punish him like the bad boy he was.

Brett and Garth didn’t know what to make of it–the change had been so sudden, and they both believed they could reason with him, and get their sweet little cub back–but it was clear, after another day, things were only getting worse. Malcolm, or Mal as he was calling himself now, slipped out of the house and didn’t return for days, coming back reeking of sex, saying the most vile things to them both. Garth…lost his temper, and locked him down in the basement, telling Brett to keep an eye on him, not listen to a word he said, and to keep him down there while he went to find something that might help.

He spent all day in the city, and found nothing for his situation. In fact, most men, one they heard the story, were appalled. Change was normal, and something that should be embraced. They couldn’t expect to keep their cub from changing, if that’s what he wanted. He returned to the house, defeated, in the afternoon, told Brett what he’d found out…and Garth convinced him that they should just keep him down there. That until he wanted to be their good little cub again, he’d just have to be punished.

Brett hated the idea, but went along with it. In the basement, Mal raised a louder and louder fit, pounding on the locked door, screaming horrific obscenities into the air, his voice dropping lower, growing gruffer, making Brett shake every time he had to pass the door. Garth kept looking for a solution in the city, but turned up nothing. He should have seen it coming, really–Brett didn’t have the resolve Garth did, and when he came home and found the basement door unlocked and open–he just assumed Brett had let him out, and Mal had fled. However, he didn’t find Brett in the house–but he did find a stranger covered in tattoos sitting out in the afternoon sun, smoking a cigar, waiting for him.

“Fuck, I missed the fuckin’ sun,” he said, got up from where he was sitting, and chased down Garth, tackling him to the ground, beating him, and then dragging him into the basement, throwing him into a cramped cage down there. Garth looked around the space in terror–his basement had become a complete sex dungeon since he’d last been down here. He begged Mal to let him out, as the big man climbed the stairs to the main floor again, but Mal just laughed. “Sorry–but I think you need some time in the dark, Garth–some time to learn how the darkness can change you. I’ll be back down in a few days to start training you both, when you’re a bit more…malleable.”

It was then that Garth saw Brett in another cage across the basement floor, huddled and crying, naked. Then the basement door slammed shut, and sent them into total darkness.

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 9)

WARNING: SCAT

It takes a little huntin’, but I eventually find mah way tah the little stream runnin’ by the cabin. I gots the amulet with me, but it’s sealed up in a plastic container–big enough that it should float–I’d bury it ‘round here somewhere, but I can’t risk Unc or mah Bro findin’ it. They wouldn’t understand what this fuckin’ thing does tah people. I can’t even trust mahself, not really. Even now…there’s this voice in mah head, tellin’ me I’m bein’ dumb, that this ain’t what I want, but I can tell it’s a lie. It’s the amulet, puttin’ shit in mah head, tellin’ me I was in college, ‘n livin’ in the city. I fuckin’ know that ain’t right–I ain’t that dumb. A faggot whore like me, goin’ tah college–no fuckin way!

This is the best, fer all a us. I seal it tight, and test it in an eddy–makin’ sure it floats, ‘n then I chuck it out intah the current and watch it flow away downstream, makin’ sure I don’t see it get caught on a root or anythin’. As it goes away, the voice starts fadin’ too–it’s a relief, really. I feel good fer the first time in days. I feel like mahself, like I’m supposed tah feel. I wipe mah hands dry on mah dirty jeans, ‘n head back tah the cabin, wonderin’ if unc’s woken up yet from his nap.

The cabin has seen better days–sure as hell don’t look as good as it did a few days ago–I think–but it’s home, right? We all like it here, anyway–here with family. Where we all belong. I head inside, ‘n I can hear Bro ‘n Unc goin’ at it already in the other room–figured they’d wake up first–after all, they didn’t need nearly as much work as mah Pa did. Yeah, Pa had been a real piece a fuckin’ work, let me fuckin’ tell ya, but he’ll be feelin’ much better now, trust me, now that he know’s just how important family is. Once he realizes just how much he needs me.

I did what he asked–first. I made him mah Pa, just like he’d told me to do. He wasn’t very happy ‘bout the rest a it, but we got everythin’ sorted out over a couple a hours. Told ‘em how much he loves me, how much he loves his whore son, how much he loves mah holes, how he thinks about bein’ with me night ‘n day. Still–that wasn’t enough fer me. I didn’t just want him tah love me–I want him tah need me. I want him tah need all a us. After all, family’s got tah stick tahgether, but Pa–he had a real mean streak. Thought he could go it all alone. Well, I helped him see the truth, sure as fuckin’ hell I did.

“Fuckin…what the fuckin’ hell happened tah me?”

That’s mah cue, I think–it’s Pa’s voice, at least, so he must be wakin’ up finally. I head into his room, and It’s the smell that hits me first. We can’t get him real clean anymore, not as big as Pa’s gotten, so he stinks pretty much all the time–still, I don’t mind–I love the stink of a dirty fucker, after all. He’s there on the bed–a massive heavin’ pile a flesh. Nine hundred pounds a flesh, tah be exact. I walk around the side of the bed, hearin’ ‘em wheaze ‘n start tah panic, his arms flailin’, legs tryin’ tah push up against his bulk, but it ain’t no use. Pa ain’t been up outta that bed in years now, ‘n wit his appetite, he ain’t never gettin’ outta there again.

He looks o’er ‘n sees me, and I can see it. I can see him tryin’ tah be mad, but the love fer me he feels every time he sees me washes it all away. “Boy–son, fuck–what the fuck did ya do tah me? This…this ain’t right. This wasn’t the deal. I can’t…I can’t move…”

“Course not, Pa. Ya know that. Ya ain’t moved from that bed in three years.”

He’s crying now–I can’t tell if it’s because he’s so happy tah see me, or because he’s terrified. Probably both, but the first one’ll wear the other one out soon. “Where’s the necklace–the amulet. Where it it!”

“Don’ know what ya talkin’ ‘bout Pa–musta been a dream ya were havin.”

“Ya…Ya fuckin’…fuck!” He flails some more, trying to roll over, but it’s no use. “Please son, I gotta take a shit…”

“Don’t worry none ‘bout that! That’s what we keep Unc around for, right?” I turn and call out, yelling for my uncle tah git in Pa’s room, and a few seconds later, my uncle bounds in. He stinks worse than the rest a the room, but he don’t mind–all Unc wants tah be, after all, is a cumdump and full service toilet–ya’d bee surprised what men round here are willin’ tah pay fer his services–some guys refuse tah piss ‘n shit anywhere else. My bro comes in after, stinkin’ a sweat–he was probably just fuckin’ Pa’s hole wit his ten inch cock–big muscular beast of a top, he fuckin’ is, but dumb as a rock. Only one with any sense left in this family is me, after all. “Come on Bro, let’s lift.”

Together, we grab hold of the chain hanging off to the side of the room, and haul up Pa’s legs by the ankles, and Unc dives for the grungy crack as soon as he can, lickin’ ‘n suckin’ at Pa’s hole–and he lets go, horrified, but already settlin’ intah the norm. We knot the chain up, keepin’ pa’s legs high, ‘n when Unc’s done with his meal, Bro hops up next and starts plowin’ Pa’s hole, makin’ him moan ‘n hollar–and I get up on his flabby chest, straddlin’ him, and kiss ‘em, ‘n let Pa suck on mah cock, seein’ how happy he is, servin’ his son, his favorite boy in the whole wide world.

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 8)

I stumble back into the room, where my brother and daddy are lying on the bed and the floor…no, not my brother, he’s my…my cousin. I have to remember that, I have to try and remember how things were, but it’s so…hard to think about everything, all I want to do is sleep. I know that if I sleep, everything will make more sense, but I need to get to Gabe. If I can get to Gabe, he had a plan, he knew something about all of this and what to do. I’m just a dumb whore, but he’s my brother! Sure, he’s…mean, most of the time, but he’s smarter than me ‘n daddy combined, so he’ll know what to do for sure. As I walk to him, I stumble and have to catch myself on the wall, trying to keep myself upright, but it’s so…hard. I can feel my skin burning, my body burning. I’m changing again, but I can get there, to the bed. I push my way there and collapse beside Gabe, shaking him, trying to wake him up…maybe I can wake him up with the amulet…but I don’t have it!

I look around for it, my sight blurry, but I see it over by the wall where I stumbled, but it seems so far away now. Still, it’s my only chance…I lunge for it, and fall…but I’m just so tired, and I can’t reach. I’ll…sleep now. Sleep for a while, and when…when I wakes up, everythin’s gonna make way more sense, ‘n Gabe’ll know what tah do, cause mah brother Gabe…ain’t no one in the woods ‘round here smarter ‘n Gabe…

I don’ know which one wakes me up, the shock tah mah collar or the heavy, steel toe boot tah mah gut, but I’m coughin’ ‘n sputterin’ on the cold floor, lookin’ up at my brother Gabe loomin’ o’er me with a cruel sneer on his face, the same sneer he always gits on his face when he’s beatin’ up me or Pa. But wait–wasn’t…there was somethin’ different before, I know it, but I can’t focus well enough tah figure it out–mah brain ain’t made fer thinkin’, like Gabe always says–I took after Pa, after all. Only thing I’s good fer is fuckin’ like a good little whore pig.

“Lazy fuckin’ bitch,” Gabe says, and hocks a wad of spit across my face. “That’s enough fuckin’ sleep for you, we got customers, ‘n they’re all eager fer yer holes. Remember, if I hear another fuckin’ complaint about ya talkin’ back, or knickin’ someone wit’ those teeth a yers–ya know what’ll happen, right?”

“Yer…Yer gonna pull out the rest a ‘em bro, I know.”

He follows that up with a kick tah mah nuts, makin’ me groan, “That, ‘n I might take those jewels a yers too.”

I nod, and he leaves my room–and I’m tryin’ tah think, tryin’ tah ‘member what was happenin’ before I fell asleep, cause it was so…important, but I can’t think a anythin’! Still, this ain’t right, I know it–Gabe…he ain’t my brother, not really. I…I gotta git outta here, find mah uncle–he’d know what to do, he’d remember everythin’. I head for the door, but git stopped short when the chain catches mah shock collar and tugs me back–the chain hammered intah the concete floor, next tah the ratty mattress where I sleep, ‘n eat, ‘n everythin’ else. I’s afraid tah look down at mahself, but nothin’ shocks me…really. Not the heavy steel cage welded ‘round mah cock, leavin’ mah balls hangin’ free fer easy kickin’. Not the faggot tattoos all o’er mah pale frame. I know it ain’t right, but it feels…good, all the same. Then the door opens, the first john pushes his way in, ‘n it starts, ‘n it don’t stop fer hours.

That’s how Gabe advertises us ‘round these parts–two full service faggots, cocks locked, ‘n hungry fer anythin’ ya wanna give tah us. I been doin’ it mah whole life, as long as I can remember–gettin’ fucked, drinkin’ piss, lickin’ out nasty bodies, gettin’ whipped, punched ‘n paddled. I like most a it, even. Still, it’s a couple hours later that I see it–the glimmer along the wall, buried in some of the dust and filth around mah room–’n I ‘member the amulet. If I can git tah it–I can figure this all out, I just know it. I can put things back the way they oughta be, once ‘n fer all, fer all a us–I think I can remember how things should be at least…

That session ends after a few more hours, and Gabe comes in wit the hose, orders me ‘gainst the wall, ‘n hoses me down in chilly water–then tells me he’ll have food fer us once he’s done wit Pa. He leaves again, ‘n I’m alone–I just fuckin’ hope this chain is long enough. It ain’t quite–I end up flippin’ ‘round ‘n usin’ mah toes tah grab the chain a the amulet, but I git it. I git it, ‘n it’s…warm, ‘n I can remember more, a little bit, at least.

Gabe come back in a few minutes later, ‘n I put ‘em under, tell him tah unlock mah collar, ‘n then fall asleep on the mattress while I sort some shit out. I leave the room…’n the cabin, fuck, it’s fallin’ tah pieces, looks like no one done a lick a work ‘round here in ages, but in the livin’ room, I see him, still lyin’ there. It must have been most of a day at this point, ‘n I can smell it, mah uncle sittin in’ his own mess, right there on the sofa…and I remember what he said, when I demanded the truth. That he didn’t love me, not really. That he was just gonna make me a slave, like Gabe’s done tha me already, but I don’t wanna me a slave anymore! No–I may be a dirty whore, ‘n I fuckin’ love cock, but I…I wanna do it fer me, now. Cause I want to, not cause someone makes me. But more than that…I want him tah love me. I want him tah love me like he promised. I want him tah need me, I want him tah want me. He’s…mine. He’s gonna be mine, ‘n we’ll be happy, I can make sure a it.

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 7)

We went to the other room in the cabin, all three of us, and Gabe was in much the same position he’d been in when I’d left–lounging on one of the twin beds, smelling his pits, and jacking off. As soon as we entered and he saw that me and my uncle were gripping the talisman together…the look on his face chilled me, and I remembered what he’d told me about my uncle…but what choice did I have? It was cooperate with him, or live the rest of my life as daddy’s whoreboy–and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want any of this, but maybe if I just cooperated, I could try and put a few things right.

Besides, my uncle loves me, doesn’t he? I certainly loved him. He won’t…hurt me, not if I do what he wants.

“Alright boy,” he said, “Your tour of duty as my idiot son is done. I have a new job for you now.”

He looked at me, pleading silently, but I don’t know what to do–then, he’s gone, eyes blank and dull. He…I can tell now that I’m touching the talisman, that he’s been under my uncle’s thrall for a long time–long enough that he can’t resist it much at all. My uncle walks us over, and he barely needs to speak, Gabe is so receptive to his power, and as he lays there, I can almost…see him changing, and my father too, whenever I look back at him by the door to the room.

My uncle is tell Gabe that he was wrong–that Gabe isn’t his son at all. No–Gabe is the son of my father instead, and always has been. But they have a very, very special relationship. Gabe is a hedonistic slob, sure, but he’s also got an eye for faggots, and he’s known his dad’s a true fag ever since he started climbing into bed with him as a teenager, begging his son to let his dad suck him off, and Gabe never was one to turn him down. No–if anything, he encouraged him, teased him, led his father deeper and deeper into his depravity, until at last he accepted himself for what he was. Pure faggot. Nothing but a receptacle for the fluids of other men, destined to give them pleasure with his holes and nothing else. It’s been years now, with Gabe renting out his father’s holes to all the men in the trailer park, and training him himself, of course. See, his dad sometimes got ideas. Ideas that he wasn’t really a faggot, that he was a person. That’s why he had to wear the shock collar. That’s why his cock was locked up in a steel cage, ready to get poked with the cattle prod. That’s why he’d had all his teeth pulled out with pliers, and all the tattoos covering his body–especially the word faggot across his forehead. So he wouldn’t forget, ever again, that he was nothing more than a worthless, piece of faggot trailer trash, and his son’s whore to boot.

I’m listening to my uncle describe all this, seeing it all form in my mind’s eye. I’m horrified, sure, but the rush of it–it’s intoxicating, and all I want to do is ride my uncle’s cock again, to feel him inside me, feel him love me again. The talisman is glowing, and I sense that things are coming to fruition–as my uncle finishes, there’s a wave of light, and it strikes us all–but I see it sinking mostly into Gabe and my father, and they collapse–Gabe back onto the bed, and my father to the floor. It’s done–and all the changes I could see, they’re happening. My father wasting slightly, colorful ink appearing on his body. Gabe losing some of his fat as he beefs up into a proper bruiser, always prepared to put his father in his place.

Our father, I mean.

I realize then that there was one thing my uncle didn’t change. He didn’t change me at all. I can…feel the light in me too, and it’s making me kind of woozy as we leave the room and return to the living room. I tell my uncle that I’m not feeling good, and he just nods, pulling the talisman from my hand.

“That’s because you still belong with them, with your daddy and brother in there, Evan,” he said, “You’re still their whore, but if you thought your daddy was bad? Just wait until Gabe gets a hold of you.”

“That…That wasn’t the deal!”

“No–the deal still stands, boy,” my uncle said, and handed the talisman to me. “All you have to do, to get out of that? Make me your dad–your real dad. If you do it before the last spell affects you, you’ll be free of them both. We’ll have our own life together–a good life. Make me your rich, smart, suburban dad, and I’ll give you the life you’ve always wanted.”

It had been a trap. I could feel the dizziness washing over me more now, but I fight it–harder, and focus on my uncle, and the talisman. “A-Alright. I will. But you…you need to sleep…”

I’m not as practiced as my uncle, but soon he’s snoozing on the couch. The talisman, it’s helping me stay awake, and keeping that last spell at bay, but if I don’t act quickly it will sweep me up into it too. Still…Gabe had been right so far, about everything. How could I really trust my uncle? Hadn’t…hadn’t he done this? To all of us? I have to know. I can’t do anything unless I know for sure.

“Uncle Max…in this trance, you have to tell me the truth, do you understand? The entire truth, you cannot lie.”

He nods, slowly, and I brace myself.

“Uncle Max, do you love me? Really? Like I love you?”

He shakes his head no, slowly, and it…it crushes me.

“What were you going to do to me? Were you going to make me happy?”

He shakes his head no again, and this time mutters a few words, how he was going to turn me into his little leather slave whore, once I’d given him the life he wanted.

“Sleep–you’re going to stay asleep until I wake you up, no matter what,” I said, choking back tears–but at least I know now. I know I have to fix this, and put it all right…somehow.

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 6)

He’d done this to me. It wasn’t my dad, not really. It was him, my uncle. He’d done this to both of us. I tried to tell myself that, but…but it rang hollow. My uncle wouldn’t do this to me–he was the only man I’d ever met who treated me like a person, who I believed, deep down, genuinely loved me. He took a cloth from over the mirror, came over, and cleaned the makeup off my face while I leaned on him, and then kissed me. I could…taste the smoke on him, and I loved it–I craved it, I was tugging at his fly as quick as I could desperate to have him inside me, because he was the only man who could fuck me…and it felt amazing. It was like my ass was made for his cock, and nothing else–and he was more than happy to give it to me.

The next forty-five minutes flew by–he fucked me in every direction, from every angle, and I lost count of how many orgasms I had–both in my ass and in my cock. By the time he finally filled me up with his own load, I was quivering and aching and so full of pleasure I never wanted him to leave, I never wanted it to end. I asked him to hold me in bed, and he did, caressing me gently, my head on his chest listening to his heart beat.

“I wish…I wish we could stay like this,” I said.

“We could have, boy–but yer the one who said no. Yer the one who wouldn’t cooperate.”

The memory came back again, fainter than before, but their all the same, and I pulled away from him, horrified. “No–No, you did this. This was you, not him.”

“Ya know that ain’t true, boy–I’m the one who loves you, you know that.”

It was a lie, he was lying…I knew it, and yet I wanted to believe it. I couldn’t believe that the man I’d just been with, the only man in the world who treated me gently, who treated me like a person, would also be the one to put me in this position to begin with. I was the stupid one. I should…I should have agreed to do it, I could see that now, and yet…like an echo, Gabe’s voice was still there in my mind, warning me not to trust him…and I didn’t. I loved him, I wanted to be with him, but I didn’t trust him an inch, no further than I trusted my daddy. “I…I don’t…can’t you just…put everything back? I can’t think like this, I don’t know what I want anymore.”

There was a pounding on the door, and his daddy burst in, “Time up, fuckers–come on. Whore needs to eat, get a bit of rest, ‘n then we got the night shift.”

“Last chance, boy,” my uncle said quietly to me as he got up, “Because I know yer daddy’s only gonna get meaner from here on out–trust me, and I’m not gonna make the offer again.”

He headed for the door…and I could see the look in daddy’s eyes. He was horny, and when daddy was horny…that meant I was in for a beating. I…I knew I didn’t want this, I knew it, and my uncle was the only way out–even if I couldn’t trust him. “Wait! Wait–fine, I’ll do it, but…daddy first, and then I’ll…I’ll help you.”

My uncle looked back at me and smiled. “Sounds like a deal, boy.”

My daddy was just confused, looking between us, and asked what kind of deal we were even talking about, but my uncle interrupted him, told him he was getting sleepy and tired, and before I knew it, daddy was standing there, a bit of drool hanging from his mouth. “Alright Evan–come on. You want revenge on yer daddy here? Then you get to have the honors. Besides–you should have a chance to practice.”

My uncle pulled the amulet out again, but this time he pulled it off–but kept his hand looped in the gold chain, holding it out to me. I walked over, slowly, one eye on my daddy…still convinced he might snap out of it and beat the shit out of us both, but I got there, and took the amulet in my hand…and when I did, fuck, the power of the thing, it’s impossible to describe. I’d felt…powerless for so long, but with this thing, I could do anything I wanted…but what did I want? I knew what my uncle wanted, I could see it in him, but I was so confused now. Still, my daddy…he was bad. He’d done bad to both of us, and he deserved to be punished. I could do that–no, we could do that, together.

“Say it Evan–say what you think would be a good…punishment for your daddy here.”

“I…I want him to be a whore. A faggot whore, like he made me. I want him to spend all day getting fucked by dirty fat fucks like he makes me do.”

My uncle laughed, and beckoned my daddy over to us, “You hear that bro? Hear what your bright, magnificent son thinks about you know? Get on your knees fucker, you fucking whore, and get to work.”

My daddy dropped between us, and started sucking on our cocks, while my uncle worked the magic over him, telling my daddy what his new life was going to be like–and I added a few things in there too, but mostly…mostly I was just enjoying the sensation of being in power for once. I felt like all my life, this fucker, he’d controlled me, and now I had a chance to get even. I could make him love the taste of a filthy ass, like that disgusting biker I’d rimmed. I could make him a urinal for hire–offering men a place for their piss at ten dollars a bladder.

“Alright Evan, good work,” my uncle said, “But every whore needs a pimp right? And I know the perfect guy for your daddy to work for–let’s go see how my idiot nephew i doing.”

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 5)

I didn’t know what time it was when I woke up next–all I knew what that I hurt. Every part of my body hurt, but especially my throat and my ass. A moment later, the door to the room where I was banged open, and my father stomped in–but it wasn’t the father I remembered, or at least the one I thought I should remember.

The lights were out, and all I could make out of him was his silhouette–but it was massive. Six feet tall and a few inches, broad of shoulder and broader of gut, but with plenty of muscle packs into his chest and arms–I should know after all, since anytime I did something daddy didn’t approve of, I’d get a backhand across the jaw, at least. “Alright cunt,” he said with a snarl, and flipped on the light, “Have a good nap? Get the fuck ready–we got clients in fifteen minutes.”

“B-But…dad, I…” I stammered, but even as I spoke, I realized I should have known better. Daddy stomped over to me and gave me a solid smack, hard enough to make my teeth shake a bit. I’d…I’d been really good lately, he hadn’t knocked a tooth out of my head in almost a year, and I wasn’t going to start making him do that to me again. If I lost many more…he said he’d just pull them all out. The clients would pay more for a toothless whoremouth anyway, as he called it.

“Did you say something, cunt?”

“No daddy.”

“Didn’t fucking think so,” he said, and spit on my face, “Now clean up and put yer makeup on. These country fucks were promised a pretty city faggot, and that’s what yer gonna give ‘em, right?”

I nodded, and my daddy stormed back out the room, slamming the door behind him. The room…it had changed since the last time I’d woken up, mostly with the addition of a small vanity against the wall, which I made my way over to, sat down at, and looked at my face–my new face. I was…small. So fucking small, and chubby, with two soft breasts and a hairless body. I still had some makeup on from my earlier clients, but I went back in and touched myself up, a little blush, a little lipstick, a little shadow. The roughnecks out here…daddy found it easier for them to pay if I was more feminine. I found the pair of panties I’d been wearing earlier, which one john had tore off me eventually, and tucked my puny, two inch dicklet in the front, thankful my daddy still hadn’t followed through on that promise. If I didn’t have a few regulars who liked sucking on the puny thing, he probably would have cut it off years ago.

I was trying to fight it. I was trying as hard as I could, but this one–the change was so much larger than the last, and somehow that made it even more real. My daddy–as soon as he’d realized I was a little faggot, he’d started whoring me out–at home, around the city. He’d made a deal with my uncle to work out of the cabin a couple weeks a year, to give the roughnecks and truckers around here a shot at my faggot holes…and I hated them. I hated these weeks so much, they were so much rougher, so much dirtier…but it meant I got to see my uncle too, if he had the cash for my dad…and that almost made it worthwhile.

I got back up on the bed, sitting there, waiting. I heard daddy talking to some other gruff voiced stranger outside my door, and a second later it opened, and an old man entered, a leer plastered on his face, skin tight and wrinkled from years in the son-and then he was on me, licking me, tasting me, forcing me over onto my belly, ass up, and he was inside my tight hole–my forever tight hole. Men loved it–they came from miles around for a chance at it. Tighter than any pussy, and I wouldn’t mind if…if it didn’t hurt, every time. Every time it felt like my guts were being split apart, but I craved it all the same, because…because I liked it.

Deep down, my daddy was right–he’d always known me better than I’d ever known myself. I was a whore, I wanted cock, all day and night, and I wanted it rough. I fucking deserved it. My little dicklet had tented out my panties while the roughneck pistoned into me, and after a minute he gave a groan and came deep, filling my guts up, and as soon as he was out of the room, another one came right in after him.

Truckers, farmers, old fat fucks and young bucks–I took them all. It lasted hours, and my ass was leaking cum by the end of it, makeup smeared on my face again. I’d cum twice–once when some old biker had come in and made me eat out his ass while he jacked off. I…it was so fucking humiliating, that it turned me on, and he wanted to see me blow my load, he wanted to see my little clit while I chewed on his hole. The other time was some old farmer, maybe seventy, with a ten inch dick that worked like he was twenty. He hammered my guts so hard that I was spewing in my panties before I even realized it, begging him for more while he grunted and groaned, on the edge of a heart attack, probably–but he lived. I lived. I was so…tired by the end of it. Tired and humiliated, and…and wanting more, as much as I hated admitting it, but no one else came in, until my dad opened up the door.

Alright slut–that’s all for the evening, but my bro bought an hour with you.”

My heart skipped, but I didn’t dare show it–if my dad knew how much I liked seeing my uncle–and how much he liked seeing me, he’d probably double the price. I looked over and saw my uncle step into the room, closing the door behind him, and he smiled at me…and when I saw him, I remembered. I remembered, and through the desire, all I really felt was terror.

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 4)

Keeping everything Gabe had told me in mind, I followed my uncle out into the living room, where my dad was laid out on the couch, drooling in a trance. Is that…is that what I’d looked like last night, too? My uncle had me sit down on the couch beside him, and he took the armchair across from us, and sighed.

“Alright boy–let me tell you, right now, how all of this is going to work. You’re dad there,” he said, pointing to him beside me, “He fucked up my life, when I was a little younger than you. Fucked it up, just because he found out I was gay and liked suckin’ cock. I was the one who was gonna go tah college ‘n make somethin’ outta mahself–but my parents kicked me out, and that college savings? It went to him, the deadbeat. Well now I’m gonna take it back–and you boy? Remember how I said you could cooperate or not? Well here’s your chance. Your Pa here–he’s gonna end up as the fuckin’ piece of trailer trash he was always supposed to be, no matter what you do. But if you help me out? Well–I can make your life fuckin’ perfect. Anything you want, so long as you also love fuckin’ around with me–the man who’s gonna be yer new daddy. But for that to work? I’m gonna need some help.”

He reached down the front of his shirt, and he pulled out the amulet–Gabe had been right. But what had he wanted me to do?

“Ya wanna be a college athlete? I can do that. Wanna be a genius? Easy as cake. Rich? Fuck–neither a us will be workin’ a day in our lives. You name it, ‘n I can make it happen–but first, yer gonna have tah do somethin’ fer me. See? This amulet can change a lot, but I can’t change mahself–that’s where you come in. All ya gotta do, is take this thing, and talk to me. Tell me I’m gonna be your father, living with you in the suburbs. You can keep it simple, the amulet will do the rest. Do that? And tomorrow–I’ll give you any kind of life you want.”

“Why…why not just make me do it? If the amulet is that powerful.”

“Boy, we both know yer dads a bastard. Wouldn’t ya rather have someone ya can trust–someone…ya love?”

He beckoned me over and pulled me into his lap, where I could feel his hard cock pressing against my thigh, and my heart fluttered, being this close to him again.

“How ya felt last night? I can make ya feel that every night. Ya’ll never be lonely again, ya’ll have a proper daddy, one who loves you and respects you.”

My heart ached for it, it really did. I…I barely knew my uncle, but fuck, I loved him so much, so much more than my father…but did I really feel that way, or was it just him making me feel that? Gabe had told me not to trust him–and if I gave him what he wanted…how did I know he’d follow through with his end of the deal? And…and did I really want a dad…a dad who’d spend all day fucking my ass, making me scream for…for more? He reached down and started rubbing my cock as well, teasing me…and it took every bit of will I had to pull away from him, shaking my head. “No–no, this is wrong. I…I won’t. He’s a…he’s not perfect, but he’s always been there for me, I can’t do this to him, he doesn’t deserve it.”

My uncle heaved a sigh, and shook his head–more in disappointment than in anger. “Well, I can appreciate the loyalty boy–but I assure you, he doesn’t deserve it. Go have a seat on the couch.”

I tried to fight it, but I couldn’t–and I sat back down with my father, struggling against him as hard as I could, but I could feel him in my head already, the room beginning to grow fuzzy. “Please–please, not again…just let us go…” I muttered, but I couldn’t quite get my mouth to form the words I needed them to do.

“I was hopin’ I wouldn’t have to do this, boy, I really was. I thought ya’d see what I could offer ya–but this works too. Ya wanna know what sort a bastard yer daddy is? Well I’ll show ya. I’ll turn ya against him, just as well–and ya’ll be beggin’ me fer another chance soon enough.”

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 3)

“Now boy, we’re going to have get a few things straight,” my uncle said, as my cousin picked up speed in my dad’s ass, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I’m gonna tell you right now–this can go one of two ways. I know ya ain’t a bastard like your father–or at least I assume ya ain’t. If you’re good, and do what I say, I can make sure we both get what we want, got it? We can be real happy together, but for that to work, I’m gonna need your cooperation. Now, ya got a solid will on ya, I’ll give you that–it’d be a lot easier if you were a dumbass like my son over there–course, I can make ya a dumbass just like him. That what you want boy? You wanna be some useless pig fucker like him?”

I looked over at my nephew, fat and sweaty, his lank hair hanging around his fat, bearded face. “I…I don’t understand, I don’t know why you’re doing this to us.”

“You’ll get answers when you need answers. For the mean time, I need to know if you’re gonna cooperate, or if I need tah make ya cooperative. In fact? Here’s what we’ll do. He spun me back around, and when he started speaking again, it was like the night before, out on the patio–but somehow…less intense. At the very least, I didn’t feel like I was going to pass out like I had the night before, but my body couldn’t move–all I could do was listen. Listen while my uncle told me how I didn’t just want his old body–but that I lusted after my cousin’s filthy, disgusting, fat body just as much as my asshole father did. After a few minutes of that, I could move again–and I made a beeline right for my cousin, shoving my face in one of his stinking pits, screaming inside, but I couldn’t control myself at all, I couldn’t stop.

“Alright Gabe, you show that cousin of yours a nice time now–make sure he understands exactly what’s gonna happen to him if he don’t start cooperatin’, got it?”

“S-Sure thing, Pa,” my cousin said, and pulled out of my dad’s ass, “You heard him boy–you’re mine for a bit. Git down here ‘n slobber on my pole, taste that grungy hole a yer dad’s.”

I didn’t want to, but I had to. I dropped to my knees and started slobbering all over my cousin’s massive cock, tasting my dad’s ass and flecks of his shit. I wanted to gag, but I wanted to taste it. I needed it, almost as much as I needed to taste my uncle’s cum again.

“Alright bro,” my uncle said to my dad, “Come on–we need to have a nice chat while the boys keep each other occupied.”

I saw him shaking his head, and heard him whimper a bit, but he was as helpless as I was. My uncle dragged him out of the room and shut the door behind them, leaving us alone, Gabe’s cock still planted deep in my throat…but he went a bit slower, listening as the sounds of my uncle and dad drifted off into another part of the cabin. “Alright–ya need tah listen. I didn’t think I’d git a chance, but ya–yer the only one who can stop this.”

I tried to ask what he meant, but I couldn’t get a word out around his cock, and he gave me a smack across the face.

“I said listen! We ain’t got a lotta time, ‘n ya got orders tah follow. The harder ya suck, the better ya’ll be able tah listen. It’s…it’s how it works. The more willin’ ya are, the less it’ll break yer mind–unless he wants tah break it–but that’s the thing. He need ya.”

So he told me a story–a story which…was very hard to believe, but the more he told, the more sense it made. He told me, first of all, that I wasn’t really his cousin–that Gabe wasn’t related to any of us, in fact. I thought that was insane, until he started pressing me on it, asking me if I could remember anything about my aunt–his mother…and I realized that I couldn’t. In fact, I knew almost nothing about Gabe, beside the fact that he was my cousin, and my uncle’s son. No–Gabe had, in fact, been one of my uncle’s neighbors, and after my uncle had found the talisman, the one he’d chosen to work his new powers on, as a test.

It was an amulet. So long as it was touching my uncle’s skin, he could control almost anyone–but it went further than that. He could…change things. Change people. Warp reality around him. He’d used it to turn Gabe into his son, twisting him into the fat, grungy pervert I could remember–but who I could only remember thanks to the amulet’s work. The catch, however, was that the amulet doesn’t work on him.

“He can’t change himself–that’s the curse. In fact, usin’ it just ruins his life more ‘n more. Lost his job, almost lost the trailer–that’s why we’ve been livin’ here, but the place…fuck, it’s fallen apart around us, every day. That’s why he needs you. He…fuck, he hates yer dad, man. He fuckin’ hates him. Never really told me why, but somethin’ yer dad did to him…I think he told everyone he was gay, and that’s why he got shipped off into the army, while yer dad got to go to college. He wants his life–and he also wants you. He’s always wanted a son, but I…I was never real enough for him. He wants you, real family blood. But tah take his place, he needs someone else to change him! Then, once he’s got what he needs, the life he wants, he’s gonna ditch the amulet here.”

I pulled away from his cock, ready to dismiss it as insane…but what other explanation could there be, really? I hadn’t seen the amulet myself–but my uncle had worn his shirt to bed. Was it for safekeeping?

“But don’t…don’t fuckin’ trust him! He’ll fuck ya over too, he’ll tell ya anythin’ ya wanna hear, but don’t fuckin’ do it. But if…if ya…fuck…fuck pig, git that mouth a yers back round mah stinkin’ cock!”

He slammed his dick back in me before I could ask more, but he didn’t say anything else–whatever moment of coherence he’d had, it was swallowed back up by my uncle’s orders, and the two of us fell into a new round of debauchery, me worshiping his body and eventually riding his cock on the filthy bed, taking two loads of his cum in my ass and loving every moment of it. I was busy on his feet when my uncle opened the door again, and told me to come with him–that it was time for us to have our chat.

My Uncle’s Amulet (Part 1)

It wasn’t a trip I wanted to be on by any measure, it was one that my dad had told me I was going to go on, and that was that. Family bonding and all of that nonsense. What confused me the most about the entire thing was the fact that my dad fucking hated his brother–my uncle. He trashed him all the fucking time as some backwoods hick fucker–told me that if I didn’t get into college, I’d end up just like him and my dumbass nephew. Of course, all things considered, my uncle wasn’t doing that poorly–he’d gone into the military, and now he worked as a consultant for a defense contractor–he flew out to DC for meetings every few months, and did a lot of stuff remotely, but it could afford him a good house out in the sticks–and also gave my nephew the ability to sit on his ass all fucking day long.

They’d had some big falling out, around the time my uncle had gone into the military, and my dad had been preparing to go off to college. I…don’t know any of the details, but I know my dad hadn’t seen my uncle since. They talked on the phone occasionally, usually around holidays. The conversations were always…tense, even if it didn’t sound like they were talking about anything much, and when my dad put me on to talk to him, he always supervised the conversation for whatever reason. Then, grandpa died, and everyone went out for the funeral…and apparently he and my dad buried the hatchet, because now, all he can fucking talk about is this fucking hunting trip.

My dad has never hunted in his life. Well, he probably did when he was a kid–I know my grandpa was a big hunter, and my uncle has mentioned hunting trips in the past that he went on with him, though I can’t remember if he ever said that my father had gone along. In any case, I’ve never gone hunting, nor have I ever desired to. If anything, I think it’s kind of fucked up, to go out into the woods just to kill a thing and mount it on your wall. Still, my dad refused to take no for an answer, so we’re all packed up and driving the four hours to my uncle’s cabin for what my dad is promising will be a “real treat.”

No wi-fi, probably not even a bathroom–what the fuck? We arrive, and to my surprise, the place is actually fit for human habitation. It only has two bedrooms, so I have to bunk with my cousin…which is a bit awkward. I mean, I barely know him at all, and it doesn’t help that he’s in his thirties, while I’m still in the middle of college. He’s big fellow–probably close to 300 pounds, and when I get there, his shit is already thrown all over the room…and it stinks, honestly, like he didn’t even bother to wash any of his clothes before he came. I shove his shit over to his side, and drop my bag on the bed–it’s pretty late at this point, the sun is setting, so my uncle suggests we have dinner and relax a while…and that’s when things start to get a bit odd–or odder, I suppose, since the whole thing is still strange.

My dad…he seems really tense, and yet he seems happy to be here all the same. My cousin breaks into the beer and starts chugging away while my uncle cooks on the grill–I don’t think he says two words the whole time, just belches and chugs. My uncle offers me a beer, and I refuse–my dad, always a stickler in most cases insists I take it and when my uncle offers my dad a cigar, he lights the thing up eagerly. My dad. The militant non-smoker. Smoking a cigar. I don’t know what to say, and so I don’t say anything. We all eat, and my uncle starts a fire in the pit as it gets dark, and we crowd around it.

I finish one beer slowly, only to have another pressed into my hand. My dad gets up and says he’s tired from the drive and wants to go to bed–I try to go with him, but he and my uncle say I should stay up a bit more and hang out with my family–I hardly know them, right? But as soon as my dad is inside, my uncle gives my cousin a…a look, and he heaves himself up and heads inside too, swaying a bit drunkenly as he does, leaving my uncle and I alone in the dark, beside each other at the fire.

I don’t know what to say, but my uncle fills the silence naturally. His words…they have a real easy rhythm, you know? I’m just looking at the fire, staring at the flames dancing, and he’s talking to me, murmuring in my ear, and I don’t even really know what he’s saying anymore. I just feel…tired. Really tired. So tired I want to shut my eyes, but I have to keep staring at the flame, right?

I try to say something, I try to say I want to go to bed…and that’s when I realize something is really wrong with me. I can’t. I can’t do anything. I’m slumped in that chair, completely relaxed, and my uncle starts rubbing his hand over my body, feeling me up, and I’m trying to flinch away, I’m trying to say no, but all I do is groan. I groan…because it feels good. Really good. His hand is slipping lower, down into my pants now, and I’m disgusted but at the same time I want him to touch me so badly. I feel my eyes finally slipping shut, and as I do, I shudder, my cock exploding in my uncle’s hand, and the last things I hear him say, before I slip under, are:

“That’s a good boy, we’re gonna be real happy together, just you wait.”