Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 5)

“I know you probably won’t appreciate this, pig, but let me tell you–from my own experience, it will be better this way,” the imp said, and jumped back up to the ceiling, pulled a lever, and a few moments later, the taste and consistency of the mash flowing into his mouth…changed. The taste was vile–musky and rank and dirty and…and delicious. He panicked, trying to keep from swallowing the filth, but the tube forced itself deeper into him, and he had to choice as it was pumped directly into his guts. 

“See, that first Halloween, no one…destroyed me. I had to survive here, my mind witnessing everything in this darkness, all year long. It was horrifying. No one should have to go through what I did. This is better. Better to just be what you’re going to be, don’t you think? Give in, never have to worry about that old life of yours? Just let yourself be the dirty, shameful, disgusting pig you were meant to be, from the moment you stepped in here.”

Ken was still struggling, but he could feel it. The filth was…warping him. He could distingish some of the flavors now–piss from the urinals, cum from the dumps, mud and muck from the floors washed down the drains, the tang of shit even, at the back of his throat. He wasn’t getting fatter, but something else was happening, he could…smell himself, and it was the same heady musky of the filth being pumped into him. He stank of a toilet, and a filthy sock, and a cumsoaked armpit, all at the same time, and…and he loved it. His mind was fading, shifting. He was oinking and squealing, his cock leaking all over the floor beneath him. The surface of his latex clad body was changing as well, the rubber growing…moist. Not with sweat, but with some vile, slick scum–a goo seeping ring out from his rubber pores and sliding down his skin and onto the floor under him.

“Don’t worry piggy–all you have to do is cum, and the hose will release you. The sooner you embrace it, the more of a mind you’ll have left–so I suggest you start working that piggy cock into that fat of yours quickly. I, however, have a party to leave–and a new lease on life. Enjoy it–maybe I’ll pay you a visit next year.”

The imp was gone, leaving the pig all alone in the cage, swallowing down the muck, grinding his cock mindlessly between his gut and the floor for a few minutes until he came, squealing in delight at the mess he was making, at the filthy mess he was. He wasn’t…the same, as he squeezed out of the cage. The muck he’d been dropping wasn’t just…coming from him, it was him, he was made of that same filth, his pig face slumping and drooling off him as he walked, reforming again as he lost bits of himself to the floor, in a trail of black slime as he crawled into the room, sniffing and snorting for filth he could devour, hungrier than he could have ever imagined being in his life.

“Hello? Hello!”

He looked up at the sound of a voice, as a young man, somehow still in his black attire from the party, stumbled around the corner. He was missing his clothes tag, took one look at the nightmarish rubber pig in front of him, and froze. Before he could do anything, however, Ken was on him, his gooey body sticking to the man’s flesh as he screamed, dragging him down, eating away at his clothes, while Ken’s cock, the last firm thing left on his body, starting probing for the man’s hole. He was screaming, so Ken covered his mouth in goo, the substance hardening quickly, the man’s mouth now covered by a patch of black rubber that melded seamlessly with his skin, only able to breathe through his nose.

“So…hungry…” Ken grunted in the man’s ear, as he fucked him, and as he did, his body began to lose…shape, flowing down around the man, engulfing him slowly into Ken’s own form. The man’s body, warped by the filth, was beginning to lose firmness as he was sucked into the pig, Ken’s cock drilling deeper and deeper until it forced it’s way out the other side of the man’s body, through his own cock, the man shuddering in something like an orgasm as he felt the monster’s filth begin to dissolve and eat away at his body, absorbing him into the pig as a new part of him, his mind locked away with Ken’s, forever trapped inside this monstrous, rubber beast eager to devour anything in sight.

Then, it was four o’clock, and the lights shut off. Trapped in the dark, with only the other monsters for company. Until next year at least–and by this, this pig would be starving.

–An Ending–

Alright, let’s go back and pick up the story somewhere else! Here’s some options. A few are new, and one is a popular path that didn’t get picked from this last little chunk. The bonus poll for Patrons is over here as well!

Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 3)

Ken struggled as the men surrounded him, held him down, and began forcing him into a latex suit–first his legs, and then they pulled it up over his shoulders and his arms, zipping him up in the back. It was then that Ken had the first sign of what was in store for him–the front of the suit, in big white letters, read “PIG”. 

“No! No you fucking, I am not going to be your fucking pig!” he screamed, and the Master of the Halls just laughed–and all of his minions laughed with him. 

“Not my pig, no, not unless you remain in the halls here tonight. Then you will be. For now though, by law, your fate is still yours for the moment.”

He screamed some more, and the men forced a mask over his head, and then pulled on some gloves and two rubber boots, before stepping away and allowing Ken to get up. He immediately tried to haul the mask off of him, but while he could feel it was rubber, it refused to budge–and his hands couldn’t quite seem to get enough purchase on the mask to even tug at it. The men were all laughing around him, and he stumbled over to a mirror on the wall, feeling like he was walking on his toes–and everything became more clear, and more horrifying.

His mask was a pig mask–but it wasn’t just a mask anymore. When he looked at himself in shock, he saw every bit of his new face move–from his eyes to his snout to his cheekbones. He could see a hint or two of flesh underneath, around his eyes especially, so his real face was still there, somewhere, but…he went to tug on the floppy ears again, but frozen when he saw his hands. The two gloves weren’t normal–they were designed like trotters, with two thick fingers and his thumb in a third that let him grip things, though poorly. The same with the boots on his feet–they were trotters as well, which explained why walking had felt so strange a moment before. He started tugging on those as well, but the rubber refused to come away from his flesh–the closer he looked, the harder it was to tell where the rubber ended and his flesh began–like everything had merged with his body instantly. The singlet, too, had merged with him, the zipper teeth knitting together, and the zipper itself had become a little rubber pigtail wiggling above his ass. The back was open, allowing access to his hole, but the front was all rubber…though something was happening to it, and to his cock underneath. It heated up, and he got…horny all of a sudden, and a new cock pushed its way out, jutting in front of him. It wasn’t human, and it wasn’t even flesh, really. It was rigid, but a bit supple like a dildo, and shaped like a pig’s cock. He touched it, and snorted–it was more sensitive than his last cock too.

He turned around to where the men were still laughing, tried to yell at them, but all that came out of his mouth was a series of oinks, grunts and squeals that sent this all into hysterics all over again, while Ken just got angrier and angrier, stalking towards the Master of the Halls, who was just grinning his same, sharp, smile. But as he got close, the lights cut out, and when they came back a moment later, they were all gone–and Ken was alone.

Well, almost alone.

The imp was in the doorway, watching again, and when Ken saw him, and the tag around the imp’s arm, he squealed and gave chase, the imp laughing back down the halls. Ken quickly lost track of where he was in the maze–it was clear the imp was on home turf, and also toying with him–but he had to get that tag back. If he didn’t, and the party ended before he could…well, it wouldn’t be good, that much was sure, especially in his new costume. He might even be trapped like this forever. He started to have the feeling that the imp was leading him somewhere, and he entered a large stone room. The imp was there, waiting, and then, before Ken could react, a cage dropped down from the ceiling and enclosed him. 

In a panic, he started shaking the bars and pacing the cell, but it started to shrink–forcing him down onto his hands and knees, the cell soon not even wide enough for him to turn around in. He was trapped, and the imp was rubbing his hands together with excitement. Obviously the imp had something up his sleeve, now that he’d lured the piggish Ken right into his trap, but what does he have in mind?


What sort of fate would you like to see for Ken the pig? Some of these options will end the story, and we can go back and select from some of the earlier options instead. The bonus patreon poll is over here as well!

Caption: Growing Rubber

Patreon supporters can find the second half of this caption story over on discord!


Just a jockstrap, at first. You’d always been interested in rubber, but the gear was expensive…and it was also a bit daunting, trying to know where to start. So you found a retailer online, and ordered one on a whim. It arrived a week later, and you tried it on–and immediately jacked off. It was the most sensual thing you have ever worn, and even after you came…you didn’t really want to take it off…so you didn’t.

You wore it all weekend, jacking off more than you could even remember, and come Monday, when it was time for work, you still couldn’t bring yourself to take it off–so you didn’t. Besides, who would even know? You put on your usual office attire and went to work like normal. You jacked off in the bathroom a few times, but beyond that, it was like everything was exactly the same. It never even occurred to you to try taking the rubber jock off again, because why would you want to?

You woke up that Saturday, however, and something was different. Now…it wasn’t just the jock you had on that was rubber. You usually slept naked–and this week, with just the jock, but when you woke up this time, you also had on a black rubber tank. You had no idea where it had come from, and you were so unnerved, you almost too it off…but you didn’t.

It felt so good, after all, as you rubbed your rubber stomach. You came, knew you should take everything off…but you didn’t, did you? You kept it on all weekend, and come Monday, again, you wore your rubber under your regular shirt and slacks to the office. Again, no one could notice, and you…liked it. More than you ever thought you would, and you start thinking about more, and when Friday night rolled around…you were wondering.

Sure enough, you woke up on Saturday, and there was more. The tank was now a full rubber shirt. The jock had become shorts, with an open ass–and something else. A plug. Small, easy to remove when you needed to, but having something in your ass felt so damn good…why would you stop? So…you didn’t.

But now…this was too much, right? Surely you needed to take it off now?

Interactive: Porno Virus (Part 12)

This is going to be the last entry in this series for the moment. I might revisit it at some point, but I have some other ideas I’d like to try for the moment. I’ll be starting a new interactive story of some sort next week!


As Tobias walked through the suburban streets, looking for someone to introduce to his new desires, to his new God, he saw, ahead of him, an older fellow walking a dog in the evening. He was most likely in his late thirties, wearing a shirt and slacks, looking tired from work and his home–and Tobias saw someone who could use a new…outlook on life. He followed along behind him for a few minutes, until they reached a dark stretch of the street, and Tobias pounced on him. The dog took off running, terrified at the strange smelling figure that had leapt out and tackled his master–and Eric, the man Tobias tackled, struggled with Tobias in the dim light, unable to understand what this man was–the clinking of metal, the rub of rope and leather against his skin, the sickening bulge of Tobias’ monstrous cock grinding against him. As he fought, however, he could feel…something happening to him, a strange sensation on his skin, like something was crawling on him, underneath his shirt, making him squirm and shudder in disgust. He managed, at last, to fight the man off and he ran down the street, but the sensation of…something on his skin didn’t go away. Wondering what the crazed freak might have had on him, he took off his shirt (which was feeling increasingly tight), and then pulled off his undershirt as well, and looking down, he gasped.

There were…tattoos crawling across his body. He scratched at them, trying to get them off, but they were already under his skin–the virus seeping into his body, infecting him and his desires with the images that Tobias had implanted in him. Across his chest he saw the words “Daddy Hog”, and he could…remember when he got it, at that seedy tattoo shop outside of Denver on one of his rides, the same time as that trucker had asked Eric to help him break in a new college boy he’d picked up hitchhiking…

Eric clutched his head, trying to resist the new memories, giving Tobias the opportunity he needed to grab Eric and drag him back into the darkness, groping him, covering him with still more tattoos, all over his arms and legs and belly–images of pigs, images of bikes and bikers, images of cigars and smoke. Eric tried to fight, but eventually, he forgot he was even trying to fight any of this, he forgot he’d ever been Eric at all–that Eric, from before.

They ended up fucking between two houses, Eric plowing the rubber and leather freak in the ass, at least until the side door of one of the houses opened, and a younger man emerged holding a bag of garbage, looking at the two freaks fucking by his fence, and gaped at them. Gaped long enough that Tobias could leap on him and together, they started tearing the young fellow’s clothes away, and Tobias’ cock started leaking–but it wasn’t cum that came out, but dark silicone.

It dribbled, and then poured all over the young man’s body, coating him in it, sliding into every crevice and orifice, the silicone beefing up his ass, filling his lips, covering his teeth and dissolving them, covering his hands and turning them into mitts, and then Tobias forced his freakish cock into the man’s ass–while Eric fucked the new gimp’s rubberized mouth. The silicone flooded his system, and the man could feel his cock and balls inflating into some bulbous mass, a freakish accessory, also coated in rubber–and that was the last think he felt, really. The last thing he thought, as the rubber invaded and choked out his mind, leaving him as nothing more than a freakish rubber gimp for the new biker to use as he desired. Tobias felt himself ready to cum, so he hauled his cock free, and blasted Eric with his silicone cum, watched it coalesce into rubber gear to replace his ripped in torn clothes, and admired his fat, thick bearded, heavily tattooed biker freak, and then sent them off–Eric once again walking something on a leash, but no longer a dog, looking for a bike to steal so he and his slave could get back on the road, spreading the infection everywhere they went.

Ethan’s Birthday (Part 5)

The rest of the men all gave off a series of grunts, lows and barks in agreement, and Wes stepped away from Ethan, letting him get a better look at himself in the mirrored wall on one side of his bedroom. The horse behind him was still fucked him rough, but the cock was no longer struggling to fit inside him. Ethan could…feel it. Hell, he could see it, when the horse drove in deep, the tip pushing against the inside of his belly. He couldn’t see any flesh remaining on him anywhere–his entire body, inside and out, was coated in the same orange rubber as the mask itself. Wes came closer to add one final touch–he squeezed a big handful of rubber into his hands and slopped it over Ethan’s lower back, pulling and shaping it into a thick fox tail. He gave it a tug, and Ethan let out a surprised mew–he could feel it, suddenly, swish it back and forth, and it felt…right. He felt right.

“Yes, looking good, though you’re still a little…big, I think,” Wes said, laid his hands on Ethan, and he felt the rubber contract, pulling tighter and shrinking, his frame shrinking until he was nearly a foot shorter, just barely cresting five feet tall, and the massive horse leaned over him, grabbed him, and picked him up in his hooved hands, fucking him roughly on his massive cock in the air, Ethan feeling it sliding the entire length of his body to the middle of his chest, his own puny fox cock dribbling its own rubber cum onto the floor. “Better–much better…but you know? I just don’t buy it, you know? Such a slutty fox, and only two holes to use. We can do better than that, can’t we?”

Wes stepped up and started rubbing Ethan’s tight rubber ballsack in his hand, and then started pushing it up against his body. He could feel them shrinking and collapsing in on themselves–it was painful, but also so…delightful, feeling his body manipulated while this horse impaled him. Wes pushed two fingers in, carving out a little indentation below the fox’s puny cock, and then widened it, his balls now gone entirely, a narrow slit replacing them, and Wes pushed in deeper still.

“Yeah, how about that? Now you have a little slutty pussy to go with that tiny little cock of yours. Hey Rover–get over here–let’s put that big red bone of yours to work on this slut’s newest hole.”

The bright red pup bounded over, eager at last for some attention. The horse sat on the side of the bed, and Rover rammed his knot into Ethan’s new pussy, the two cocks meeting in the middle, inside of him, and wave after wave of pleasure washed over Ethan, his body and his mind, pummeling him and his will into submission until at last, he felt a final orgasm over take him, his puny cock spraying a load of bright orange cum in a fountain between him and the dog, still fucking him quickly, and close to orgasm himself.

“Yes, I think you’ll do very nicely,” Wes said, pulling something out from his coat, something of black rubber, and sliding it over his head. It was a mask of his own, solid black with a white stripe running from the top of the forehead down the back. He stripped off the rest of his clothes and revealed a thick black member underneath, stroking it, watching the thick black ooze begin to slide over his body, the musk of him growing even more powerful as he changed, growing even larger than the horse, body thick with muscle and fat. He climbed up and forced the massive cock down the fox’s throat, and the three of them fucked his small frame, stretching and abusing him, and the rougher they were, the more pleasure he got from it. The heady musk in the room was working on all of them, reminding them that they were owned by their master, by this rubber skunk, that even when their bodies had returned to flesh, and even when the masks came off, none of them would be free souls ever again–none of them wanted to be free ever again.

For the next several hours, Ethan was pummelled from all sides, fucked by every animal multiple times, rainbows of rubber cum spewing from every hole he now had, until at last, exhausted, Wes allowed them all to begin to change back. All of them except for Ethan, at least. He remained in his fox form, mewing and growling softly, one hand toying with his tiny cock, while the other sliding into his new pussy, amazed by how sensitive it is. Wes allowed his other animals, now back in their masks, to return to the party, leaving him and Ethan alone. “Now, as for your birthday present, I happen to have a friend with a kennel full of dogs–all of them studs. How would my little fox like to spend the night with them, getting his little pussy filled with the real doggy cum?”

Ethan tried to say something, tried to do anything at all, but at a touch, the rubber coating him had solidified, and was shrinking further, until he was small enough to slip into a pocket–which Wes did, taking his leave. He’d return Ethan home in the morning–probably–if the little fox hadn’t been so mindfucked by the end of his very special birthday to remember he’d ever even been human at all.

Ethan’s Birthday (Part 4)

“Now, how about something a bit more challenging for you?” Wes asked, and beckoned the man wearing the yellow horse mask, with the massive equine cock hanging between his thighs, over to him, and Wes started stroking it, the man giving a whiney of excitement as the rubber began to extend and grow over the rest of his body–though something else was happening too. The rubber wasn’t just covering him, the man was growing taller, and wider. The rubber seemed to be going on thick, adding to the man’s already muscular frame, until he was standing in beside him, over seven feet tall, built like a hard working draft horse, thighs almost as thick as Ethan’s waist…and the cock. It was no horse cock, not anymore. No, it was the horse cock of horse cocks. Two feet long, thicker than most men’s thighs. Ethan stared at it in some confused daze of lust and horror, not quite sure what to make of the thing at all.

“You want it in you, don’t you, you little, slutty fox,” Wes whispered into his ear.

“I…I can’t take that. No one can take that.”

“No one?” Wes said with a laugh. “Show ‘em piggy.”

With an excited grunt, the pig bent over, ass towards the horse, and he clomped over on his now hooved feet. He had to squat slightly to get is cock lined up with the shorter pig’s hole, but he pressed the head to the pink opening, and it simply slid into the pig’s hole without a single moment of resistance. It didn’t look like he was fucking an ass at all–just a toy like a fleshlight, though from the look on his face, the pig was enjoying the fuck greatly. The horse slid all the way in, up to the hilt, and them slipped back out, the cock coming free with a pop, the pig’s ass closing up perfectly like nothing had been inside it a moment before.

“He didn’t seem to have any problem with it, did he?”

Ethan started clawing at the rubber again. It was impossible. All of this was impossible, but Wes shoved him against the wall, leaning in close, and Ethan was suddenly aware of how…small he seemed, compared to the big bellied bear leaning into him. “Please…I don’t…”

“No, you do,” Wes said, leaning in and kissing him on the lips of the mask, and Ethan felt it, smelled his breath, smelled the cigar and the whiskey he must have had earlier. His cock was aching now, not inside the rubber, but as the rubber. It was hard, and horny, and he could feel it warping his mind, and his perspective, especially once Wes started rubbing it while he kept kissing him. He did want it. He wanted to know…what that felt like, but the only way that could be possible was if…if that pig was more rubber than he was human. But if that was true…then how could he possibly change back? Did…did he want to change back, really? Had he ever felt this much pleasure in his life, even at the greatest highs he’d experienced? No, this was new. This was something better, and as strange and terrifying as it was, he knew that if he backed out now, he would spend the rest of his life wondering what would have happened if he’d just said–

“Yes…Yes, I want it in me, all the fucking way.”

“Well, we’d better make sure you have protection. I wouldn’t want my cute little slutty fox getting hurt, now, would I?” Wes asked with a grin, his hand shoving some of the rubber coating Ethan around to his ass, his thick fingers shoving it between his cheeks, where he could feel it sticking to them. “Such a nice hole you have–still, there’s room for improvement everywhere, don’t you think?”

One finger slipped into his hole, and then another. Wes pulled his hand out, spun Ethan around so he was facing the wall, and pushed him up against it, telling his ox to come over. He milked more of that strange, clear goo into the palm of his hand, coating it, and then went back to fingering Ethan’s hole, working the substance into him, watching it change to a bright orange and slip inside of him until he could slide his entire fist in without any resistance at all. Ethan just kept rubbing his tiny cock, but now, it was no longer the most sensitive thing about him–no, his ass was nearly bringing him to his knees. Everytime it stretched to let Wes’s fist inside, there was no trace of pain, just the most delightful stretching sensation he’d ever known, something he didn’t even have words to describe.

“Alright, I think he’s good and ready. Have your way with him–and make sure it’s a good rough fuck, just the way he likes it.”

The horse came behind him, pushed the head against the entrance to Ethan’s now rubberized hole, and forced it inside of him with a thrust, the cock sliding almost a foot into him before it hit a moment of resistance, making Ethan moan in pain. The horse didn’t stop though–it just kept fucking into him, driving in a bit deeper each time, panting and huffing, gripping Ethan’s hips hard enough that he was certain he would bruise. All the while, Wes just kept milking his ox, smearing more and more rubber onto Ethan’s frame, feeding it to him off his hands, shoving it down his throat, Ethan feeling it stretch with the same delightful pleasure as his new ass–and he imagined that after everything he’d swallowed from the pig earlier, the horse would have no problem fucking his throat either. Wes didn’t wait for the horse though–he simply slid his entire hand into Ethan’s snout, and he felt his jaw stretch around the entire fist as it wormed down into his throat, the only thing he could see was Wes’ thick, hairy forearm pushing deeper and deeper into him, before sliding back out again. “F-Fuck, never…had my throat fisted before,” Ethan said, or tried to say, but all that came out of his mouth was a high pitched mewing, almost like something between a moan and a sigh.

“Yeah, don’t worry about talking little fox–none of my toys need to talk while they’re playing, right toys?”

Ethan’s Birthday (Part 3)

“Trade secret, I’m afraid,” Wes said, “Proprietary. Still, doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it, right?” He walked over to the blue headed ox, and gave his huge bull cock a little stroke, the man giving a long low of pleasure as he did, the blue mask sliding down his body, slowly, and the pig took Ethan’s hand in his own rubber mitt, and moved it lower, to his slick rubber pig cock. Then wrapped an arm around Ethan’s back and pulled him into the suit, and he sank into it, the pig hugging him tighter to the rubber, their cocks pressing against each other. “Seems like Piggy has taken a liking to you.”

Ethan moaned, unable to believe how…sensual the suit felt from the outside. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like on the inside. He…wanted to know. He looked over at Wes and the Ox, whose mask was now covering most of his upper body, and saw that suit was taking on a different form–a muscular chest with a hefty barrel gut beneath. He even seemed taller, somehow, which made his massive cock and balls seem a bit more proportional. Wes, however, was gripping the Ox’s cock with both hands, tugging and shaping it, the Ox moaning loudly as he did, the rubber covering the rest of his body now, and Ethan watched his cock and balls merge and inflate, becoming a massive udder with a single, cock sized teat. Wes gave it a jerk, and something spurted from it onto the carpet–it was clear, almost like wet silicone or lube.

“It…it can just change like that?” Ethan asked, “and what is that stuff?”

“Raw material,” Wes said, “Ox here likes being milked, don’t you Ox? Almost as much as you like fucking.”

Ox nodded and gave another long low, grinning wide.

“The masks are great on their own, but if you want their full…functionality, then they need to bond with you, Ethan. This is going to be more than just a mask–it’s going to be you. In fact, by the time we’re finished, you might find it more comfortable than your own skin.”

Ethan was getting that creepy feeling again, but the pig’s body was so comfortable, he didn’t want to go anywhere. He felt himself slipping down, however, sliding against the pig until he collapsed to his knees in front of that bright pink cock, and without even needing to be told, he started sucking on it, the pig playing with it’s huge gut while he did, and the muscular Ox walked over with Wes, who began milking the teat in earnest, pumping the clear rubber ooze all over the mask on Ethan’s masked head.

He couldn’t see it happening, but as soon as the clear liquid came into contact with his mask, it turned a bright orange, matching the color exactly, and began to run down off the top of his head and down his naked body. It was…warm, but not unpleasantly so. It clung to him, but not tightly exactly–some of it ran down the side of his face and down his chest where he could reach it. He found he could mold it and shape it–but when he tried to pull it away from his body, it just stretched, and wouldn’t come away from his skin. Unnerved, he tried to pull away, but  the pig gripped him tighter, and Wes crouched down beside him, his pit close to Ethan’s nose, making him sigh in pleasure at the scent. “Now Now, there’s no backing out now–just a little more, and we’ll have some real fun with you.”

He kept sucking, and felt something start flowing from the pig’s cock and into his mouth. It tasted vaguely like cum, but with a lube-like texture that made his stomach turn. After a few minutes, the pig released his head, and Ethan managed to pull his mouth free of the pig’s cock. For a moment, and saw thick strands of the same rubbery substance connecting his mouth to the cock, also turning a bright orange. Had he been swallowing it this whole time, without even noticing? They snapped away, and stuck to the mask and his lips, while Wes pulled him up to standing, and pushed him towards the mirror.

He was covered with it–or at least, there was a lot of the strange rubber substance on his body, running down from his head to his knees. “There, that’s a good amount to get started with, I think,” Wes said. “Now, you said we should do something about that cock of yours, right?”

With a hand, Wes pushed some of the orange glop from the top of the mask, down Ethan’s chest to his cock, and he covered his cock and balls in the entire glob. “Now, what do you think we should give you? I think you’re a slutty fox, don’t you? And from what I hear, you’re not much of a top, so I don’t think you need a lot.” Ethan moaned through the mouth of the mask as Wes pulled his cock from the glob of rubber and started squeezing it. It felt almost like he was being put into a chastity cage, his moderately sized cock getting squashed down into a small cage of some sort–his balls as well were being pulled up tight against the bottom of his cock. Wes pulled the extra rubber away from it, and there Ethan saw a two inch, bright orange, rubber cock cage the shape of a fox’s cock–similar to the red dog’s, but with a much smaller knot around the base, and a less flared head. He reached down to touch it, and to his surprise, it was…incredibly sensitive. He mewled slightly as he rubbed himself, feeling how the gooey rubber had hardened into a sleeve, trying to tug it away, but it wouldn’t come free from his cock, just like how the goo had stuck to his chest and refused to pull away before. Unlike the others, whose cocks maintained some flexibility, his felt rigid and stiff–only his tighter ball sack had the slightest give, like a thick stress ball. Wes gripped them in his fist and gave them a squeeze, delighting in the mewling pleasure coming from Ethan’s mouth as he collapsed against him again, rubbing his nub sized cock against his belly, amazed at just how much he could feel through the rubber–more than he could through his own skin, it seemed.