Interactive: New You Resolutions 2020 (Part 4)

Like the other envelopes, it was waiting for him downstairs, after breakfast. He was up to four pitchers of shake each morning now, and Jim found himself relishing it, enjoying how full he felt. It seemed impossible to believe how different he was now, but was this really worse than what he’d had? He didn’t have to worry about work, didn’t have to worry about other people. Just him, his videos, his fans, his massive cock and hairy body, and nothing else. What could the company possibly have in mind for him now? He tore open the envelope, and found out:

Looks like you’re coming along great Jim, but we’re worried that you’re…stalling, a bit. It isn’t your fault of course, but there’s only so far one man can take himself. So, here’s another resolution for you:

— I resolve to find a partner and encourager dedicated to worshiping me, and making me as fat as possible.

We’re sure a few of your fans would be more than happy to help out–maybe you should ask them?

Someone…else? Jim didn’t know what to think about that, in all honesty. He honestly couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen someone else in real life, and not on the other side of a computer screen. Had…had it really been his boss? Was that the last human face he’d seen since all of this had started? He hauled himself up to his office, sat down at his computer, and saw that one of his regular chat and cam buddies was around.

His name was Carl, and he was a massive fellow, though in a different sort of way than Jim was. He was a powerlifter, obsessed with getting as muscular and fat as he could, and he was obsessed with Jim’s body–almost to an unhealthy degree. But with that new resolution in mind…Jim found himself pushing, and suggesting that Carl, who only lived one state over, come and visit him for a weekend. They could make a couple of videos together, maybe, and Jim…was desperate to feel a real life fist in his loose hole. Dildos were great, but…but fuck, he did want someone inside him so bad.

Carl was ready and eager, and that next weekend he was there, and both of them had the time of their lives. Carl force feeding Jim his shakes before worshipping the older man’s massive cock and balls, then fisting Jim with his thick, muscular arms. The connection was undeniable, and all of Jim’s reluctance evaporated. Carl took a couple of weeks to wrap things up where he’d been living, and by the next month, he was living with Jim, and the two of them found it impossible to remember a time they’d been apart.

Carl wasn’t the cleanest fellow, Jim realized quickly, but much to his surprise, he didn’t mind all that much. If anything, catching a whiff of Carl’s musk after a few hours at the gym, or after a day working construction, was enough to make his massive cock start leaking precum all over his massive thighs. Carl, for his part, was more than happy to help Jim reach weights he could have never imagined before this–by December, he had crested 600. Standing and walking was difficult for him, not just because of the weight, but also because of his massive cock and balls making it even harder to swing his legs. Over Christmas, while Carl had a break from work, he forced Jim to stay in bed for two weeks, feeding and fisting and filming the entire thing for their growing fanbase online, and Jim was in heaven. On January first, the first time he’d stood up in weeks–something that he could barely manage in fact, with how atrophied his muscles had gotten over that time–he found one final envelope waiting for him from New You Resolutions:

Congrats!

You’ve done so well this past year, Jim, and we hope you’re as proud of the results as we are. We’ve given you a brand new life–here’s a little reminder of where you were, and where you are now.

There were two pictures in the card. The first was the old Jim, sitting at his desk in that office, pudgy and bored and exhausted with his life. In the second photo, it was a picture from the last week or so, his legs hoisted up in stirrups while Carl fisted his hole, most of his arm disappearing inside Jim, his face wracked with a powerful orgasm. He was a filthy, dirty, perverted old man, and he couldn’t imagine ever going back to that old life again. The card wasn’t quite finished, however:

One last thing–a gift for the new year:

— I resolve to gain until I’m completely immobile.

We here at New You Resolutions don’t think you’ll have any problem with that one, right?

Jim had to chuckle. He was one step ahead of them, in fact. He’d already broached the idea with Carl, and they’d agreed this was one of the last times he’d ever be up on his feet again. Jim knew he should be terrified, but where else would he want to be? And with his sexy powerlifter pig taking care of him, what did he even have to worry about? This was going to be the best year of his life–he could already tell.


Alright! That’s one set of resolutions down, who should our next target be do you think? You get two choices of the options below. Patrons have their bonus poll as well, over here!

Interactive: New You Resolutions 2020 (Part 3)

Jim went down stairs, his first cigarette of the day already half finished, and made himself breakfast. At this point, he was devouring two pitchers of gainer shake each morning, and even that wasn’t quite enough to have him feeling totally full anymore. He was sure it was only a matter of time before the company would increase it yet again.

As he set down the second pitcher and wiped his face, he saw the envelope on the counter, which had been empty before–he was certain. He could just…ignore it, couldn’t he? But his shaking hands reached out and picked it up anyway. Inside, was another note from New You Resolutions:

Happy four month mark!

We here at New You Resolutions are so proud of you, Jim, for sticking to your resolutions this year. We’re so impressed, in fact, that we’ve decided to reward you with some new ones! First things first:

— I resolve to make some changes to my appearance. I’m going to stop cutting my beard, grow more body hair, and make myself look 20 years older.

Why don’t you head into the bathroom and get started.

Jim just stared at the note, and fought the urge to cry, or scream, or anything really. Anything other than what he did, which was finish his cigarette in a couple long draws, put it out in his kitchen ashtray, and then head into the bathroom, where he found a good chunk of his grooming supplies had been replaced. This was one of the few aspects of his life that hadn’t been touched by the last set of resolutions, and even as he gained weight, and watched his cock, balls, and tits swell and stretch, at least he could still shave, still shower, still trim his hair down. But that was over now, he realized. First, a hair growth serum that he applied all over his body–even on his back with a special applicator. It made his skin tingle, but he didn’t see any results right away. The new shampoo on the other hand…one application, and when he rinsed it out, he was horrified to see that his hair was now flecked with grey–and that his hairline had receded a few millimeters as well. The serum was applied across his face as well, and by the time he left the bathroom, a thick five o’ clock shadow had appeared across his face and double chin. His tasks completed, he headed for his office, where yet another envelope was waiting for him:

You didn’t think that was all, did you? Here’s a few more:

— I resolve to smoke cigars instead of cigarettes from now on.

— I resolve to start injecting my cock and balls with silicone, and make them as large as possible.

You’ll find everything you need right here.

Sure enough, the usual packs of cigarettes that appeared next to his keyboard were gone, replaced with a wood humidor. He opened it up, pulled out a cigar, cut it, and lit it. He inhaled right away, and coughed–the rough cigar smoke a bit much for even his seasoned lungs, but his body refused to not suck down all the smoke it could. After that, he found the silicone. That was a more delicate operation, but after an hour or so, he was done–10 ccs of silicone in his cock, and 20 ccs in his ball sack. They were swollen and tender–so much so that he couldn’t pump his cock like usual. He couldn’t even touch it really. Worried about what he would do next, he saw another envelope appear.

With your new injections, you’ll need a new way to get off too, probably. It’s time you let some other people in on your new you too, Jim.

— I resolve to train my ass with dildos until I can one at least the size of a fist.

— I resolve to start live streaming my jack off sessions over the internet and posting them on the internet.

“No…No no no…” Jim muttered to himself, but he couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t stop any of it. There was a dildo there on his desk he hadn’t noticed. It seemed…large, to him, but then, he’d never had anything in his ass before. Everything would seem large to a newbie. He lubed it up and started working it into his hole, only noticing after a few minutes that a webcam was attached to his computer, already streaming his virgin fuck to the entire internet. 

Again, the months wore on, and Jim adjusted to his new commandments as best he could. The cigars were easy enough, once he got used to the stronger smoke. After a few more months, he barely recognized himself in the mirror anymore, however. The beard grew in impossibly quick with the help of the serum, and after four months, it reached the top of his substantial belly. The hair had filled in thick as well, and was just as grey as everything else. There was no doubt in his mind anymore that he was in his sixties. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d looked…young. Even the photo ID in his wallet that he’d checked a few weeks before bore his new image. His new age. His new weight, just a few pounds shy of 500 at this point, and his freakish cock and balls just looked like another misshapen blob of fat hanging off his body, until you got closer. There was so much silicone in them that he couldn’t get much sensation anymore–instead, he’d found that his ass was a much easier way to reach his orgasm requirement each day. The dildos he’d thought were so big at the beginning were now so small to him. After four months of daily training, he could take one a bit larger than his own fist without too much trouble, and riding it hard, he could bring himself to an anal orgasm easily enough. His fans…loved that. Seeing this obese, hairy, sweaty pig, chuffing on a cigar, screaming and groaning as his prostate siezed inside his ass while a massive dildo pounded into him…he hated how much he loved their attention. He was craving more though. He wanted…a real fist inside him. He wanted someone with him, he was so lonely.

Eight months into the year, there was another envelope, and Jim found that New You Resolutions had been thinking the same thing. It was time for Jim to resolve to find a partner–but who does he end up with?


Here’s the next poll! This one only has four options to it, and you can pick two of them. The public poll is below, and the patreon poll can be found over here!

Interactive: The House Made Me Gay! (Part 12)

“Please, why…why are you doing this? I…just…just change me back, I didn’t want to be some…old fuck!” Ethan said.

“Well, in all honesty, it isn’t quite my thing either, though I think it does suit you quite well,” Phil said, as he fiddled with his stations. “But this is what the client asked for, and so, that’s what the client gets.”

“The…client? What?”

“Oh yes–the client. I’m making you for someone, you see? They were quite specific about what they were looking for.”

“What the fuck does that fucking Mr. Woodrow want,” Ethan said, “I knew that fuck was creepy, fucking hell.”

“Oh he isn’t the client–I merely contract with him to secure raw materials. In exchange, I give him a few tools of my own for the men he has living in that house of his. Really, you should be thankful–a few months in that place, and what I’m doing to you will seem like nothing. He’s the real freak.” Phil said, and then pulled some tubing down from where it was hanging above the chair. “That’s enough of a chat for now–the client will be here soon, and you’ll see for yourself what they want. For now though, we have a few more changes to make.”

He pushed a tube against Ethan’s mouth, who shut it tight against him–but the rubber tube came to live, forced its way into Ethan’s mouth and down his throat, settling in his stomach. Aa thick solution, almost like gruel, started to flow and he could feel it settling in his gut, making him feel…heavy, and full. Then, Phil brought down a second tube–enclosing the first–and the end of this one was a breathing mask, which he secured around Ethan’s nose, mouth, and most of his beard. Once that was in place, he could smell the smoke flooding the air–reeking of cheap tobacco, and he coughed, but soon it was all he could breathe, and he started to feel light headed, and laid back in the chair, while Phil went to work on his cock and balls.

Phil gave him some stimulation, and Ethan’s cock got hard–it was sizable, a good six inches and fairly thick, but not large enough for the client’s needs. He took a syringe, full of his enchanted silicone, and injected it into Ethan’s cock–along with a bit of will–and watched the shaft start to swell, the skin stretching to accommodate the new solution, Ethan groaning in pain, feeling his skin stretch around his cock uncomfortably. It took a few injections before it was large enough–thirteen inches long, as thick as a two liter soda bottle. The silicone maintained the sensitivity of the skin much better–and also stayed rigid–Ethan was going to have a permanent hard on for the rest of his life. Once he was satisfied with the size, he started adding the bling–making small incisions in the surface and sliding the various metal balls and bits underneath, giving the surface a brand new sort of texture, more like a living dildo than a real cock. He finished it off with a massive PA that could fit around a normal man’s wrist, and then worked on his balls–filling them with a similar solution, until the sack was about the size of a bowling ball, the freakish head already drooling precum from the stimulation.

Once finished with that, he took a little break–the feeding was going well, but wasn’t finished yet. Ethan would force his head up on occasion, and see he was, indeed, getting fatter at an impossible rate. Whatever he was being fed with, it was just as magical as the injections that had warped his cock into the monstrosity jutting from his crotch. His gut was getting most of the growth, but his chest was now sporting two sizable moobs, and his ass wasn’t quite as comfortable in the chair as it had been. Phil, at some point, decided he was ready, got out the tattoo needle, and went to work.

The tattoos weren’t painless, but they seemed to heal instantly. In fact, as Phil worked on one after another, the ones he did first seemed to almost fade–and after a few minutes, they looked to be years old. He started on his belly, quickly sketching and filling in the face of a cartoon pig on the top of his belly, giving a wink and smoking a thick cigar. Underneath his belly button were the words, “Smoke Pig”. From the cigar’s tip, Phil quickly filled in clouds of smoke across Ethan’s chest, which seemed to move and twist as his chest heaved and filled with more and more fat from the tube. 

After checking that the piercings had healed on his cock, he tattooed that as well–on the top, were inch markings from head to base, and then on one side, the words Daddy’s fuck stick–on the other, the image of a cigar, the head filled in red and orange and yellow like the burning tip. Satisfied with his work, he pulled the mask free from Ethan’s mouth, allowing him to cough and breathe freely for a moment. Around the mask, all of Ethan’s grey hair had been stained a dingy yellow from the prolonged smoke–as had his teeth, like a man who’d been smoking cigars for fifty years. Then, out came the feeding tube as well–leaving Ethan at his new weight of 425 pounds. 

“Fucking hell, you fucking…piece of shit,” Ethan said, his voice raspy and deep from the hours of smoke. Already, he could feel the withdrawl setting in–but Phil was ready, pulling out a sizable cigar, cutting it, lighting it, and pushing it into Ethan’s mouth, who inhaled it eagerly. 

As he did, there was a knock on the door–and Phil went to the door of his little shop, where he allowed someone in–it was the client who had commissioned Ethan’s new body, but who was it, and what is Ethan’s final form going to be?


The next part is probably going to be the finale of this story! I’ll start a new, Halloween themed one next week probably. Patrons have their bonus poll over here! You get two votes–choose wisely!

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.

New You Resolutions (Part 10) [Interactive]

Leroy didn’t really know what he was doing on stage, or why he was there. The year had been a blur really, especially as his intellect continued to diminish once he’d entered his Master’s service. By now, he could barely remember that he had ever been someone different before all of this–it seemed…crazy that he could be someone smart, someone with any kind of authority at all. He wondered what all of these men were doing, as the MC told the audience to begin voting–maybe one of them would…take him home? Maybe he’d get to service them all…that…that could be hot, but it wasn’t his place to want things. He would take what he was given, and it would be good enough–that was a lesson he’d had to learn the hard way.

The MC looked up as the first decision was made by the audience, and he perked up in some surprise. “Well,” he said, “It looks like Leroy here is going to get a second chance–or a bit of one at least.”

Leroy…had forgotten that was his name. But when he heard it, more began to come back to him, more memories, more knowledge, more…sense of himself. He didn’t forget what had happened to him over the course of the year, of course, but all of his old memories and knowledge were restored to him–and if anything, that only made everything worse. He…didn’t want it anymore. It had been so easy! Just being a slave, not having to think about anything other than his Master’s orders, but suddenly he could think about…everything, and he could remember how he had behaved for so long…and he hated that person he’d been.

He’d been cruel for no reason, and there were so many handsome students he should have been…servicing this whole time…right? He knew that wasn’t quite right, that his head, even with all of his knowledge, was still faulty–but he hadn’t lost any of his new desires or fetishes–and in fact, when the next decision popped up on the board, he was going to have quite a few more to add to the already sizable list.

His master, over the last year, had subjected him to all sorts of kinks–but for the most part, Leroy hadn’t really enjoyed any of them. The most important part of his world was service–he…wasn’t doing any of this to feel pleasure himself, he was doing it because submission was what he deserved. But now, memories of his master tying him down and whipping him, of fisting him, of feeding him his piss…those were all things he had wanted…right? He could feel his cock struggling to get hard in his cage, something it hadn’t done in ages, and he was…embarrassed by this sudden loss of control, and went to hide it from the crowd, not wanting them to see it…but if they did see it, maybe they would punish him. He…did like being punished. He deserved it, and he also…did enjoy it.

As he struggled with these new desires, his body was changing as well, as the third decision came up on the screen–that Leroy’s already substantial body modifications were going to become…even more extreme. The first thing Leroy noticed was that, even though he wasn’t getting hard anymore…his cock was still swelling. He pushed down the diaper he was wearing, and the cage popped off after a moment, and he could see that his cock wasn’t getting hard–no–it was…swelling up with silicone. His cock was growing wider, the head disappearing inside a sheath of taut flesh, and his sack swelled so large that he would never be able to hide it, no matter what he wore. He touched his cock, for the first time in nearly a year, and felt…nothing much at all. It felt like his cock was trapped…inside of itself, and he realized the cage hadn’t really disappeared–it had just changed form.

In addition to the silicone, the filthy tattoos he had gotten on his body over the last year multiplied, until nearly every inch of skin, even on his face, was covered in lewd words and designs. The piercings grew in number as well, and also in size. After a few minutes, he realized that he had become a total freak…and that he loved it. He pulled the filthy diaper back up, seeing how swollen it was around his inflated junk, and all he wanted was…was for someone to use him.

But no one in the audience wanted him–instead, he spent the evening servicing any man who was interested, and when morning came, he…had a new vision of himself. He would be a teacher, of sorts–he would go find his old students and give him a new education, show them how to treat a faggot freak like him–whether they wanted to learn, or not.


At last, it was time for the fourth and final subject. Hugh emerged from the side of the stage, wearing his coach uniform, and feeling…terrified. He had just watched three other men all warped even further into their new forms–and he…he didn’t that to happen to him. He just wanted things to go back to how they’d been–he’d do better! He…he was tired. Tired of working at the school all day, and then having to service his bratty son all night…the stage hands shoved him out, and the MC announced him to the audience, and he awaited his fate.

Alright, here’s the final poll for this interactive! We’ll wrap up Hugh’s fate next time, and start a new interactive story of some sort next week! Here’s the final patron only poll as well!

The Fetish Gun is Loose! (Part 3) [Interactive]

Well, Setting B won the twitter poll, and setting C won the patreon poll, so why don’t we use them both?


Davie looked down at his oversized, silicone filled cock, bulging against the spandex of his singlet…and wondered if it would count as an object, as far as the gun was concerned…and if it did work, what would happen to someone he shot with it afterwards? It was insane that he was even thinking about it, and yet he got so damn horny, wondering what might happen, that he threw caution to the wind, slid deep into the booth and pulled down his singlet, letting his cock and balls free. They were…fucking massive. Easily twice the size they had been before (though he was having a harder and harder time even recalling he’d ever been different–this just felt so…natural to him now) he hefted them in his hand, feeling the weight of all the silicone he’d been pumping into them for years now. Then he grabbed the gun, checked the setting was on C, and shot his cock.

The same light as before washed over his cock and balls, but didn’t extend further around him, like it had before, when he used setting A on himself. After a moment, the light faded, but nothing seemed different–he waited until someone came nearby his booth–a young twinkish fellow, like he’d always enjoyed before, and shot him with the gun. The light enveloped him, and he held the trigger for a couple of seconds, and then released it. The guy shook the shot off, turned towards him, saw his massive cock hanging free, licked his lips and made a beeline for it, licking at the head, drooling profusely…but beyond that, he didn’t seem…that different. Something had changed about him though–Davey figured he might just have to shoot him for longer. He aimed and shot him again, holding down the trigger for as long as he needed…and then he felt it, his cock shudder, open wide, and swallow the man’s entire head down the shaft.

He released the trigger, horrified by what he was looking at, as his cock shuddered again, and drew more of the man into him, and he seemed to be shrinking, as Davey’s cock ate him. The pleasure hit him then, as the man squirmed, sliding deeper inside him, his body diffusing into silicone and joining the rest of the substance merged with the flesh of Davey’s cock and balls. After a moment, the man was gone entirely, clothes and all, and Davey’s already mutant cock and balls were even larger–the cock nearly a foot and a half long and as thick as his own fat thigh, his balls lost in the mass of silicone that had become his sack, hanging like a wrecking ball from his body.

It was so fucking hot–he had to jack off then and there, though it was hard feeling much of anything with his cock and balls inflated like this. He was going to need some help. He grabbed the gun again, turned it to setting B, and shot himself for a minute, before pulling the singlet back up, his monstruous cock hanging free, and he went back downstairs. All he had to do was approach someone, and they were on him, worshiping his cock and balls right there in the open, and no one questioned a thing. When he had half a dozen guys enraptured by his junk, he retreated back away from the crowd and allowed them to please him, eventually milking a few loads out of him over the next few hours–until with a massive orgasm, he felt the man inside his junk reform slowly, and push his way out of the head of his cock.

He didn’t come out the same as he’d gone in. He was smaller than before, almost shorter than five feet tall, and skinny as a rail. It only served to make the man’s own, gigantic member even more obvious–where he’d had a modest five inch cock before, now it was nearly as large as Davey’s. The rest of him was off too–his clothes had been replaced by a full body latex suit, flesh colored, and the look in his eyes was utterly vacant. As soon as he was out, his hands gravitated right to his own cock, and he crawled over, back to Davey’s, and tried to force his way back in.

He wanted to be a cock now. A gigantic, silicone cock–it was all he desired in the world. He’d made his own cock larger, turned it into the dominant force of his entire world–that, and worshiping the cock of his master Davey, who was taking him on this path deeper into his fetish. As horrified as Davey was…he wanted his slave back inside him, but he realized, in his haste, he had left the gun upstairs, unattended. Cursing, he rushed up the stairs, his giant cock and balls heaving and bouncing, but when he got to the booth…it was gone. Someone else in the bar had already gotten hold of it, and was using it for their own devices–but who was it?


Don’t fret too hard, Davey might get another turn with the gun later in the night. For now, let’s give someone else a turn. There’s the two fairly popular options from before, as well as two other possibilities. 

  1. An older bear, who now has fetishes for watersports, diapers, chastity and public humiliation?
  2. A younger twink, who now has fetishes for boots, smoking, pain play and uniforms?
  3. A bouncer who now has a fetish for voyeurism, public masturbation, pornography, and gloryholes.
  4. A young cub with a fetish for extreme age progression, businessmen, and father/son incest.

The twitter poll is here

The patron only poll is here

Voting ends on Monday afternoon

The Fetish Gun is Loose! (Part 2) [Interactive]

Davie took a break from the dance floor, got a bottle of water from the bar, and went to take a seat on the upper floor, where he could get a good view of the rest of the bar for a bit. It was…weird. Usually he would be having a better time here, or at least, he remembered usually having a better time here, but he hadn’t really been able to find anyone who, well, interested him that much. Of course, Davie didn’t have much trouble finding plenty of men interested in him–and the men he could remember going home with before were similar to him. Muscled, young, nicely hung…but tonight, no one seemed…big enough for him. Even the guys who were his usual fuckbuddies weren’t piquing his interest. They were all shorter than him, too…too normal.

He wanted a freak, is what he wanted. Some massive brute, seven feet tall, tattoos and piercings all over his body, cock and balls injected full of silicone until they were impossibly large…but why in the fucking hell did he want that? He…shouldn’t want that, right? It wasn’t what he could recall wanting, at least, at any point before this, but for some reason, it was the only thing he could think about, and every time he thought about it, his cock got rock hard. He looked over at a nearby empty table, and saw something there that looked…suspiciously like a gun. He went over to it, and saw it wasn’t a normal gun, but more like a toy gun of some sort–thought when he picked it up, the thing was surprisingly heavy. There was a sheet of paper wrapped around the narrow barrell of the gun. He unfurled it, and saw that it was a list of instructions–but when he read through them…there was no way the thing could be real, right?

It was, allegedly, called the fetish gun. It had five settings, which he skimmed through, but there was no way this could possibly be a thing. He looked around, and there were a few people chatting as well, he moved into a booth, set the gun to A, and shot it at the ground. A yellow beam shot out of the tip of the gun, hit the floor, and spread out–doing nothing, but it was…a pretty effect if nothing else.

Could it really be true? He thought about the…obsessions that had gripped him over the course of the evening, and figured there was nothing he would lose if it didn’t work. He pointed the gun at his thigh, thought about the fetishes he’d been obsessing over, and fired. This time, instead of just dispersing, the light infused him, spreading from where it hit his body, all around him, and he felt his skin…tingle. He let the gun go for five seconds or so, let it go, and when he looked at himself…he definitely wasn’t the same person he’d been a moment before.

He was bigger for one thing. Not just more muscular, but taller as well, by a couple of inches. Of course, the steroids he’d been using for most of a year now were helping with that. The memory surprised him–he’d never used steroids before, right? But he had new memories now, how he’d grown so disappointed with his progress (as good as it had been) that he’d decided to throw caution to the wind, and make himself the body he wanted, no matter what it took. That included…silicone. Lots of it.

He’d started with his cock and balls. Now, they were twice the size they’d been before, and he loved how they bulged in the front of the tight spandex singlet he’d worn to the bar tonight. He hadn’t been able to stop there though–he’d started injecting his pecs as well, making them bigger and puffier, as well as his ass, filling out the back of the singlet with a wide bubble butt. He looked…strange. Not quite right, but he didn’t care–he loved it. He loved that people stared at him like he was a freak, and he loved how many men wanted to be with him, because he was a bit fucked up. The tattoos and piercings were just the icing on the cake really–thick blackwork lines running all over his arms and legs. He was going to fill in the rest of him eventually, but shit, it was expensive. He’d also been pumping and stretching his nipples, and just put in new zero gauge door knockers tonight. He loved how it felt, feeling them pulling down on his chest, just like the bull ring he kept in his nose all the time now.

He knew this wasn’t right, but it was what he’d fucking wanted, and now it was true! He looked down at the gun in his hand, which seemed…smaller now, and at the dial on the side. The slip of paper with the instructions had disappeared, but he remembered well enough what they all did. A would make him or anyone else match the fetish he was thinking about, B would make his fetishes contagious, C would…do something with an object and make someone else like that same object, D would make people into couples or groups, and E would cause someone to absorb the fetishes of the people around him. He gave it a spin, before settling on one of them. This would be fun, he thought, and then he could always try out something else later–probably.


So, what’s Davey’s first move with the gun?

  1. He uses setting B to make people in the bar obsess over his changes.
  2. He uses setting C on his silicone filled cock and balls, wondering what night happen if he shoots someone afterward.
  3. He uses setting D on a big leatherman in the bar, to make them fuckbuddies.
  4. He uses setting E to absorb different fetishes from other men on the dance floor.

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