Archive: Matchmaker

Originally published July, 2012

Figured I might as well get back into cleaning up and reposting some old stories of mine! This was an old one with quite a few pics to go with it. This is the original version without much doctoring. For those interested, I added a few notes on to the end.

Synopsis: A young construction worker finds himself the heir to an unlikely legacy, and uses his new powers to help the men in his family find some unlikely romantic matches.

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Continue reading “Archive: Matchmaker”

Patreon Teaser: Gobble, Gobble

Posted a Thanksgiving themed story for Patrons today, based on a couple of suggestions! Here’s the first couple of parts as a bit of a teaser.


Grant turned into the driveway of his brother’s house, and heaved a short sigh, trying to keep the tension in his chest from growing even tighter. It was Thanksgiving, and that meant a three hour drive out of the city, back to his hometown where his brother and father still lived after all of these years. It wasn’t that Grant didn’t like seeing his family, really. He liked seeing his brother, Marshall, and his brother’s wife, Martha–she was always a good time. His two nephews,Marshall Jr. (everyone called him Junior, mostly) and Will loved him. He was the cool uncle after all, from the big city. They loved hearing about what was going on in his life there, though Grant had to edit out the…gayer parts for the sake of the rest of the family, even though both of them were in their twenties at this point. It was his dad, Hugh, that made Grant really nervous. While they had long since made a sort of peace around Grant’s sexuality, it was, well, difficult all the same, do deal with his dad’s judgemental attitude. Things were usually alright, but he could never be sure. At least his mom usually helped keep things civil–she had always loved Grant, and he was somewhat certain that the only reason his dad was at all soft with him was because of her.

He pulled into the driveway and got out of his car, and was surprised to find a truck parked there that he didn’t recognize. The nephew’s beaters were parked off around the garage, so it wasn’t theirs. His Marshall and Martha usually parked in the garage. His dad’s car was there too–so who was the extra guest? He went inside, and found his answer pretty quickly, when Jimmy introduced himself.

He was a new neighbor of the family, lived alone, had moved in a couple months before. He worked around town as a handyman, and it was hard not to like him, in all honesty. He had a firm handshake, a nice laugh, and was quite handsome–a bit older and more hairy than Grant’s type, but he could appreciate him all the same.

He got swept up in the conversation, and with his nephew’s pestering him to see his new car, that it took him half an hour to notice the rather glaring omissions. Martha wasn’t there, and neither was his mom. It was just the boys of the family, plus Jimmy. Grant asked his brother about it, and he just deflected with a strange non-answer, and no one else would say much about it either, not even his dad. It was all…rather strange.

It wasn’t too long after that realization, after the boys had gone back inside, and Grant had decided to slip off for a cigarette before dinner. His dad hated smoking, after losing his dad and brother to lung cancer, that Grant had always been very careful to never smoke around him. He was surprised when Jimmy made a sudden appearance beside him, with his own cigarette in hand.

“So how was the drive over?” Jimmy asked, making small talk. 

Grant told him a bit about the trip, and found the conversation moving around to family, and holidays.

“You live alone?” Grant asked.

“Yeah, just me! Moved here from the city this year, and I gotta say, I love it out here. Everything moves a bit slower, you know?”

Grant nodded. He’d always thought boring was a better word than slow.

“How about you? No one with you, I see. Guess that makes us the pair of bachelors, don’t it?”

Jimmy gave him a little nudge, and Grant wasn’t sure if that was code or not. “I guess so,” he hedged, not sure how much Jimmy knew about him. If he was from the city, he doubted that Jimmy would care he was gay, but…well, best to be on the safe side.

“You visit often?”

“Not really. My work keeps me busy.”

“Too bad. You have a really great family here, you know? You should be thankful.”

“Yeah, I know,” Grant said, thinking about all the arguments he’d had with his dad. Not as rough as it could have been, he supposed, but it was raw.

“Well, you know what they say,” Jimmy added, taking a last drag off his cigarette, “gobble, gobble, buddy.”

Grant just looked at him, confused, but Jimmy didn’t say anything else, and headed into the house. He took a long drag off his cigar, trying to figure out what in the world that could possibly mean, and then shrugged.

Jimmy took one last look at Grant as those magic words of his took hold, Grant’s slender physique rounding out slightly as he stood around the side of his house, the thick cigar clamped in his jaw, the short beard sprouting across his face. Grant reached around shoved his hand down the back of his jeans and scratched his ass without a second thought, and Jimmy smirked. This would be a great family soon enough–one that Jimmy would be more than happy to be a part of too.


Grant snuffed out his cigar after a few more minutes, and went inside. His dad was sitting in the living room watching TV from the couch–that was usually where he stayed for the whole holiday. He avoided him for the moment. He didn’t want his dad to smell the smoke on him and have a total shitfit about him smoking, like he did a couple years before. Instead, he grabbed a beer from the fridge, saw his brother, both his nephews, and Jimmy out in the backyard, discussing a game of football. Figuring that was better than nothing, he went outside onto the porch, and decided to watch.

In the end, Jimmy ended up with Junior on one team, with Marshall and Will on the other. Jimmy started with the ball, and wanted to be the quarterback, with Junior receiving. They designated the end zones, and then started the game–with Jimmy calling out, “Gobble, gobble, hike!”

The change hit all of them in earshot, not that any of them noticed much of anything. Grant, from the sidelines, was the only one to be struck with a little sense of confusion, as he watched the men of his family all change slightly. Junior seemed to grow a bit thicker, his frame growing more muscular as he ran off to receive the ball. Will chased after him, but had a hard time keeping up as his gut swelled a bit. Marshall grew a bit too, with more muscle and fat on his body, but also quite a bit of hair appearing down his forearms as he counted down the seconds out loud, until he could try and sack Jimmy.

The game continued, and each time Jimmy had the ball to throw it, he would call out “gobble, gobble,” again, and all of the men would shift a bit more. Marshall was soon sporting a buzzcut with a thick horseshoe mustache. Will was growing taller and even more muscular, his head shaved down, with a thick beard on his face. Will was shorter and rounder now, a thick goatee around his mouth and quite a bit of hair on his chest, under his dirty, grass stained overalls that he always wore. On the sidelines, Grant just watched, packing on more and more weight with each gobble, another cigar appearing in his hand that he started smoking without even really thinking about it, his own beard growing longer, one hand working it’s way down the front of his grungy jeans to massage his cock, spurting a bit of precum whenever there was a nice tackle out in the yard.

Grant lost it, however, when Marshall got a good sack in on Jimmy, pinning him down on the ground, thrusting against him, his well worn leather chaps and boots shoved against Jimmy’s ass…and Grant hurriedly forced himself upright, and went inside, passing his father, and went into the bathroom, where he sat down on the toilet, and jacked off, replaying that in his mind, removing Jimmy and Marshall’s clothes, thinking about his brother’s tattooed body pinning him down, working his big cock into his ass, growing, spitting, biting…

He lost his load all over his hand, the floor, and his jeans. After panting for a couple of minutes to catch his breath, he stood back up, hauled his jeans back up by the suspenders, without even really caring about the wet patch he’d managed to shoot all over the inside of them. He didn’t understand what had come over him, really. He’d always thought his brother was hot, of course, especially in his biker leathers that he was always wearing, but seeing him pin Jimmy down…fuck, that was a real nice show.

He got up off the toilet, and spent a couple of minutes looking at himself in the mirror, trying to piece together what seemed so…off about his reflection all of a sudden. Was it his hair? He’d been balding for years now, and had never done much to cover it up. It was long, with quite a bit of grey, a little stringy and greasy, but then he never had much time to wash it. His greying beard was much the same–down to his chest at this point, but he liked the look of it too much to consider cutting it. He’d been growing it for years now, hadn’t he? Was it his clothes? No, those were the same he always wore too. A t-shirt from some truck stop somewhere. It was old, but then most of his clothes were. He lifted up an arm and saw a hole in the armpit, his pit hair sticking out, and he gave it a scratch, then sniffed his fingers, the scent making his cock jump slightly. He had on a pair of ragged looking jeans, held up by some suspenders that had long since lost some of their elasticity, but they still kept his pants up well enough. Everything was…right, but then why did it feel like he was looking at a stranger in the mirror all of a sudden?

He shook his head, trying to clear it, but it was a bit thick somehow. It probably wasn’t worth worrying about, in any case, but for some reason, his hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and his heart was pounding. The only thing he could think to do, was to go out, get a beer, chug it, and get another one. Best to just focus on enjoying the holiday, and time with the family. Everything would sort itself out in the end.

Interactive: Three Word Difference (Part 4)

“I wish I’d grow older and start gaining.”

Adam froze as the words left his mouth, and Rich just stared at him. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Rich said, as Adam looked around, and saw the genie smiling at him with those glimmering eyes, but before he could do anything he felt that same power overwhelm him–and Rich. 

“I…I don’t think I wanted to say…” Adam muttered, but Rich just shushed him.

“Put that down honey,” Rich said, and took the gym bag off Adam’s shoulder, “I think we both know that isn’t going to be good for your goals, right? Besides, you need your after work six pack first. Gotta keep that beer gut of yours growing.”

Adam wanted to scream at the genie, demand to know what he’d done, but he just allowed Rich to pull him into the living room and sit him down on the couch. As he did, he found himself settling into a comfortable indentation on the old sofa…because it was his spot, wasn’t it? He rubbed his gut, and felt it growing a bit larger, and was there more grey hair on it than there was before? Rich returned with a six pack of cheap beer, and a knife–flipped one can upside down, punctured a hole there, pushed it to Adam’s mouth, and had him shotgun it–and then a second one right after that, and he could feel the beer going right to his gut, and to his head, which was getting a bit…fuzzy.

“There we go daddy, that oughta get you started,” Rich said, and put the other four on the table next to him. “Now let me get you some snacks, I bet you’re hungry.”

He was hungry. Starving, in fact, but he needed to resist this. He felt…weaker all of a sudden, but that wasn’t really a surprise, was it? He hadn’t been going to the gym regularly for years–not since he was in his forties. Ever since he’d moved in with Rich, he’d been going less and less, and packing on the pounds, and he’d…liked it. They’d both liked it. Liked it enough for Adam to stop going entirely, and focus on gaining instead. He let off a belch and rubbed his big gut, feeling it swell larger still, losing a bit of the firmness it had had in his middle age, and start to sag around him instead, thighs growing thicker, arms losing their bulk and turning into fatty hams instead. He had to fight this, he had to, if he didn’t, he…he wouldn’t remember that he wasn’t supposed to look like this.

Rich came back into the room, and Adam said, “Please, I wanna go to the gym Rich.”

“Why would you wanna go to the gym, Daddy? Don’t be silly.”

“Please…I…” it was risky, but he had to try, “I wish you’d let me go to the gym.” 

Or that’s what he tried to say.

“I wish you’d always been going to the gym,” is what the genie allowed out of his mouth instead, and Adam watched as Rich’s physique shifted in a matter of moments, losing most of his fat entirely, as he packed on all of the muscle that Adam had lost in a matter of moments, and then even more than that. He was no cleaner than he’d been before this of course–he was still a slob after all–but instead of smelling of beer and lazy BO, he stank of gym musk. When he leaned in to kiss Adam, and he smelled him…Adam moaned. Fuck, he loved how Rich smelled after the gym so much, reminded him of…of all those years ago now, when he’d been a gym rat, but why the fuck would he want that now, right? He knocked back another beer while Rich sat his muscular ass down next to him on the couch and started kneading Adam’s fat gut as he passed 350 pounds and headed for 400, his age creeping up past 55 and getting closer to 60. Most of his hair was white now, his beard thick and long, crusted with food and drool, his face lined with creases and wrinkles. 

For the rest of the evening, he pounded back beers and snacks at Rich’s urging, and by the time it got to be time for bed, he’d polished off ten beers, and more food than he’d eaten in ages. Rich helped him up off the couch, and the sixty-one year old, 450 pound Adam waddled his way to bed, belching and farting the whole way, where he laid down on the dirty sheets. He tried to reach for his cock, but as horny as he was, he couldn’t get a good grip, and without thinking, he said, “I wish my dick was big enough to fuck you.”

Only what came out instead was: “I wish my gunt was deep enough to fuck.”

“Fuck Daddy, your cockhole is wet tonight,” Rich said, as he reached down and slid two fingers under Adam’s belly. Sure enough, Adam’s little cock had been pumping precum out all evening, not that you could find it at the bottom of his six inch deep gunt. Rich pushed in deep and ran his finger around the head of Adam’s tiny cock, making the old man shudder in excitement.

“Fuck boy, give Daddy’s hole a good fuck, would ya?” he muttered, and Rich was happy to oblige, and the friction of Rich’s cock against his own buried deep in his fat was enough to bring them both to orgasm. Then they fell asleep, Rich’s arms and musk wrapped around Adam’s fat body.

In the morning, however, came clarity.

Rich was already up and making breakfast, and Adam was staring at himself in the filthy bathroom mirror, horrified at what had happened to him. He could…remember, vaguely, that this wasn’t…right. That he hadn’t wanted this. “Genie…Genie!” he muttered, and the genie appeared beside him. Adam glared at him. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

The genie just smiled and shrugged, “I am allowed, as necessary, to modify my master’s wishes slightly so that the world can better accommodate them.”

“You fucking piece of shit! I fucking knew it. I wish I was thin and muscular again!” Adam shouted at him.

Or tried to. What he shouted instead was: “I wish I could never be thin and muscular again!”

“Easily done!” the genie said, “From now on, you’ll never lose another pound of fat, and getting bigger will be easier than ever for you–especially with that new hunger of yours, Daddy…”

Adam nearly doubled over from the pain of it, his gut growling in desperation. “You fuck…that’s not…what I wanted…”

“Alas, what you want is only a starting point for me, Master,” the genie said. “Perhaps you’d like to try again?”

“I wish I’d never met you,” Adam groaned out.

Or rather: “I wish I’d forget I’d ever met you.”

And Adam forgot everything. Everything other than the fact that he was an obese, sixty year old pig desperate for breakfast. Thankfully, his muscular boy had breakfast ready for him by the time he waddled out to the kitchen, and he scarfed it down, dribbling precum from his gunt, his boy teasing him, feeding him, wanting to make sure his old Daddy got as big as possible, as quickly as possible.

The genie watched for a while, but eventually decided to retreat. That had been a fun one, but there were other men who needed his services. He found his way back to the dorms where he had met Adam to begin with, and peeked in a few of the rooms on the floor, where he found a few young men in need of his services. But who became the genie’s master next?


Let’s choose someone new! It seems like you all are enjoying these, so I’ll do a couple more characters before moving onto something different. The patron only bonus poll is over here!

Interactive: Three Word Difference (Part 3)

Mutabear ended up pointing out the original story this idea is taken from, called “Plus Three” by Derek Williams.


“I wish I was fucking Rich, my slobby neighbor.”

It happened again. That wasn’t the wish he’d meant to make, but it had just fallen right out of his mouth anyway. 

“I think we can arrange that,” the genie said, and again, the genie’s eyes began to pulse with an incredible intensity, as Adam found himself drawn to the door of his apartment. 

“I…I don’t actually want…I mean…I don’t know why I said that, I don’t even know if I have a neighbor named…named Rich…” Adam said, but even as he said it, there were memories falling into place. His next door neighbor was a man named Rich, and he was most definitely a slob. He was massively fat, and the few times Rich had spoken to him the guy was a mess–usually drunk and reeking of beer and cigarettes, wearing nothing more than his filthy underwear, with a thick tangled beard and long ratty hair. Rich had always disgusted him, hadn’t he? But then why was he getting so hard all of a sudden thinking about him?

Confused, flustered, and horny, he went out into the hallway and knocked on Rich’s door. After a few moments, the fat slob opened his door, and before either of them could say anything, he saw a flicked of color cross Rich’s eyes–the same color as the genie’s mist. “Hey fucker–get your sexy ass in here. Was wondering what was taking you so long.”

He grabbed Adam by the front of his undershirt and pulled him into his apartment. The smell of the place was strong, but also somehow…intoxicating. “Sorry, I got off late from work,” Adam said, and he started kissing Rich on the fat neck, making him shudder.

“You fuckin’ work too much man,” Rich moaned, running his hands over Adam’s hard muscle.

“Shut up, get in the fuckin’ bedroom.”

He’d never been this far into Rich’s apartment before, had he? But they why was this all so familiar? The piles of dirty laundry, the sheets stained dark with sweat and cum. Rich tossed him the lube and got up on the bed, while Adam stripped down himself, and lubed up his rock hard cock. No one else got him hard like this, something about the fat pig’s nasty stench, his hair, the grease on his skin just got Adam’s cock going like nothing else, even if he was a bit humiliated to be fucking someone like this. Whatever–why the fuck did it matter? He got up and shoved his cock into Rich’s hole and started fucking him rough, Rich moaning and begging him for more and more, but Adam didn’t last that long–after a few minutes, he came, hauled his cock out, and felt the control the genie had on him wane a bit. 

“Fuck man, I needed that,” Rich said, and rolled over, groping for his own cock, “Give a guy a hand, would ya?”

It turned his stomach a bit, but Adam licked at Rich’s balls while he stroked, and he came too after a couple of minutes, both of them sweaty, and Rich let off a belch. “I gotta get going, man, thanks for the fuck,” Adam said, eager to be past this as quickly as possible now that he wasn’t compelled to be here.

“I got some beer if you want, could watch the wrestling tonight, you like wrestling?”

“I fuckin’ exhausted is all, I’m gonna go eat.”

Rich looked disappointed. “Fuck man, I wish you would hang out with me, and not just fuck me and go, you know?”

It happened faster than either of them could even realize–after all, the genie had never said he was limited to granting just Adam’s wishes. What came out instead was:

“Fuck man, I wish you had moved in with me, and not just fuck me and go, you know?”

The mist swirled up around them, and Adam only had a moment to realize a wish had been granted before things were back to a new normal between them–living in a two bedroom now, together, like they always had…right? 

“I…I need to…” Adam said, certain he’d been planning to go somewhere a moment before, but he couldn’t remember where. “I gotta go to the gym,” he said, finally, but that still didn’t seem quite right.

“Come on, stay home, watch the wrestling with me!” Rich said, “You work out too much, it can’t be healthy.”

“I like working out though.”

“You like work too much! Everything you do is work, you don’t know how to enjoy yourself,” Rich said, as Adam dug his gym bag out from their combined piles of dirty laundry. He didn’t want to have this fight again–they always had this stupid fight. Rich hated work, and could barely hold down a job. That meant Adam had to hold down all the income for them both. His job was good, but it was stressful, and all Rich wanted him to do was work less!

“I wish you’d grow up and start working!” Adam said, thinking that would end it, but he’d forgotten about the genie again, and once more, his wish was twisted around into something else entirely.


Here’s your next poll! You can pick two of the options below. Patrons have their bonus poll over here as well.


Sneak Peek: Properly Vetted

Patrons at the $5 level or higher already have access to this one! It’s sizable, and got a little bit for everyone! I’ll release the whole story next week, but for now, here’s a sneak peek.


“Sir…it’s about…my boss. About Richard Evans. I know we’ve never spoken before, and I want to thank you for seeing me, and hearing me out. I know you’re promoting him to vice president, but…but I think there’s some things you need to know about him, first.”

Kyle squirmed a bit in his seat, wondering if the older man across from him was going to say anything at all. The man in question was Gary Olson–the rather enigmatic CEO who had recently acquired the company where Kyle worked as a software engineer. Why Mr. Olson had acquired them, his plans for the company–everything was in the dark, aside from a cryptic letter the entire staff had received a few weeks before, announcing the shift in leadership. Kyle hadn’t even set eyes on him until this moment, and he wasn’t quite the sort of man he was expecting. He was…short, and a bit squat. Fat, with a heavy second chin obscuring the knot of his tie. Balding. Not very…commanding, and yet his eyes…were chilling somehow. Stone grey, and he didn’t quite seem to blink as often as a normal person. He hadn’t stopped staring at Kyle the entire time he’d been here, and he was already beginning to wonder if this was a good idea or not…but he had to say something, didn’t he? After the things Richard had…been doing to him, lately? 

He supposed he had waited long enough–Mr. Olson was still silent, and so Kyle figured he might as well just say it. “He’s been harassing me, sir. Sexually. Since about the time his promotion was announced in my department. I…He was never like that before, but…I didn’t even know he was gay, but it’s like…the power went to his head. One day he was fine, and then the next…”

Mr. Olson reacted, at last, and leaned forward, elbows on his desk, still gazing at Kyle with those stony eyes. “I see–that is a serious accusation to make against a member of our staff.”

“I know sir,” Kyle said, “But it’s the truth.”

“What has he done, Mr. Porter? Please be specific–spare me no detail. I want to hear it in your own words, if you would please,” Mr. Olson smiled then…but it did not seem particularly kind, or like it was meant to help put him at ease. It just made Kyle even more nervous. 

“Uh…well, the first…” He gulped, looked to the door for a moment, and then back at the CEO staring him down. “It was the day after I heard about it. He came by my cubicle, and I congratulated him, and…and he leaned over me, and whispered some…awful stuff in my ear, and while he did, he reached down into my lap and groped my…crotch.”

“What did he say?” Mr. Olson asked.

“I…It was…sexual and…I don’t know if–”

“I need details, Mr. Porter. Please be specific.”

“He told me…he told me that he was going to have a personal little piggy once he became VP, and that he’d decided that the piggy was going to be…me. That I was going to be his little fuckpig, his dirty little pig whore, that he was going to fuck me over the side of his desk, and…and I was going to beg and snort for it like a good little beast…” 

Kyle gave a grunt, and realized, to his horror, that one of his hands had found its way into his pants, and was currently milking his cock, right there in front of the CEO, while he recounted how his boss had talked dirty to him. His face turned bright red, and he pulled his hand free–Mr. Olson just smiled a little wider as he did.

“Did you like it, when he called you a pig?”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Did you like it, Mr. Porter, when Mr. Evan’s called you a pig? It looked like, for a second there, that you were almost enjoying yourself.”

“I…I’m sorry sir, maybe…maybe this was a mistake, I…I think I should go–”

“I’m afraid that I would much rather hear more about how Mr. Evan’s has been treating you, Mr. Porter, but first–please stand up from that chair.”

Kyle slowly stood up, not sure what was going on.

“Take off your clothes, please.”

“I don’t…excuse me, sir?” Kyle said, but he noticed something odd–that while he didn’t want his hands to do it…they were already unbuttoning his shirt down the front. He tried to make them stop, or even just slow down, but they were operating without him directing them, somehow. “I don’t…why can’t I–”

“Stop talking–and just strip.”

Kyle’s mouth glued itself shut, and his hands kept undoing his clothes in front of the CEO, Kyle trying to get a grip on himself and what he was doing, but more and more, it all just felt like some fucked up dream he had somehow wandered into. He tried pinching himself, but it had no effect–he dropped his shirt on the floor, took off his shoes, dropped his pants and underwear, and then he was naked, shaking slightly, horrified at what he was doing and unable to understand why he was doing it at all. He went to sit back down in the chair, but Mr. Olson shook his head. “No, stay standing, and tell me what else Mr. Evan’s has been doing to you, that made you so uncomfortable.”

“Well, he…he whispered all those things to me, and I told him to stop, that it wasn’t appropriate, and he…he showed me his cock, sir.”

“Just showed it to you?”

“He…made me suck him off.”

“He made you suck him off–just like that? How did he make you do it? Did you yell for help?”

“No…No sir.”

“Did you try and get away?”

“At first sir, but…”

“But what?”

But he’d liked it. He could feel Richard’s hand around his throat, squeezing until he saw stars, his mouth popping open, and he swallowed his boss’s cock, and…and he’d liked it. The taste of it, the feel of it. He’d felt…ashamed that he’d liked it, but it didn’t change the facts, did it? 

“Why is your cock getting hard, Mr. Porter? Are you thinking about how much you liked his cock? Did you really come in here today to complain, Mr. Porter, or is there something else you’d like to tell me? Something you’d like to ask?”

“That’s…that’s not all he’s done sir, it got worse. It got…worse today, especially, please…I don’t know what’s wrong with me, why I’m doing this…I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be his…his pig sir, please…”

Mr. Olson leaned back in his chair, one hand in his crotch, massaging his own cock, while he stared at Kyle on the other side, completely naked, chubby, his three inch cock at perfect attention. Still…there was something there that was appealing to Gary–Kyle would make a good pig for the rest of the office, just as Mr. Evans had suggested, but maybe…well, he’d have to press him a little more, see what he thought of him himself. “What happened today then? Spare me no details, Mr. Porter.”

Kyle gulped, unable to believe he was going to say this. He didn’t even really have words for it himself, he was still so…horrified, at what what Richard had done, at what…at what he’d allowed him to do to him. “I…I was in the bathroom. I had to piss,” he said, and swallowed. “I had to piss, and I think…he saw he go in, because I was at the urinal when he came in behind me, and he told me that, as the boss, he needed to piss first. I didn’t know what to do, so I moved out of the way of the urinal, but he…he shoved me down, onto my knees, got his cock out, and pushed the head into my mouth, and he…he pissed down my throat, sir. He fed me his piss, right there in the bathroom. I…I felt so fucking dirty sir, like a dirty fucking pig, but I was so afraid someone would see me, would…would, I don’t know…I didn’t want to do it, but I couldn’t stop myself, like…I have to do what he says. He’s doing something to me. He’s in my head! I wasn’t…this fat, before, and my cock was bigger, and…and I feel like I’m going crazy sir, you have to believe me! This isn’t normal. He told me…told me I was going to be his personal urinal from now on, and he’d…I’d have to eat out his ass too, after he shits, and…and then he fucked me. He fucked me right there, at the urinal, plowed me so hard, and my little pig cock fucking exploded all over the dirty urinal, and he made me lick it up while he laughed.”

Mr. Olson just sat there, in the silence after that, groping himself, and smiling at Kyle across from him. “And you just let him do all of that to you? He did all that, and you still came like a little dirty pig?”

Kyle gulped, and nodded in shame.

“Mr. Olson stood up from his chair, and came around to where Kyle was standing. “You still thirsty pig?” he asked, “You wanna drink my piss too? Eat out my ass? Beg me to fuck that fat, piggy hole of yours for a while? Is that why you came in here, telling me all of this? You want me to get all horny for that fat ass of yours, is that it?”

“No–No sir, please don’t…I don’t want this!”

Mr. Olson stepped closer to him, eye to eye, and stared right into Kyle. His eyes…fuck, they were so intense, that Kyle didn’t want to keep his gaze, but he couldn’t look away, and after a moment, Mr. Olson stepped back. “Well, maybe you’re right. You’re a willful one, I’ll give you that. I don’t know if Evans properly vetted you for the position. Maybe we should have him come in, and we can see about this together…”


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The House Made Me Gay (Finale)

Phil went to the door and unlocked it, and in came a young man, probably in his mid twenties. He was…well, he didn’t look particularly clean, for one thing. He was chubby and greasy, his clothes covered in food stains–and probably more than a few cumstains, from the shape and placement. The young man ran over to where Ethan was strapped to the chair, cigar lodged in his mouth, and he looked extremely pleased. “Fuck man, he looks so fucking good! I knew you could do it.”

“I know it can’t really replace what you lost, but I think he’ll do you just fine.”

“No way man, I think he’s even better.”

The young man’s name was Josh, and since he was eighteen, he had been in love with his father. He’d learned how to be a dirty pervert from him, sitting around all day, jacking off, swapping cum and spit and piss–and sometimes, if they got a bit drunk, even more than that. But tragically, Josh’s father had passed away–a heart attack–the year before, though he’d left his son a sizable life insurance policy. A good chunk of that was now invested in Ethan–who was going to be Josh’s replacement slobby father.

Josh ran his hands over Ethan’s massive cock, watching the older man shudder, his eyes fearful, and Josh…felt bad for a moment, but he was so turned on by the man Phil had created–and he knew that, before too long, his new daddy would love him just as much as his old one had. He went around and gave him a sniff–and wrinkled his nose. “He smells too clean still.”

“I was going to wait on that until you got here. He still needs a few more tatts before he’s really done,” Phil said, “But first–you still want those rings we talked about?”

“Oh hell yeah!” Josh said, “That sounded so hot.”

“Alright–then let’s get those in you both first.”

Phil worked quickly. With a box of matched rings, he quickly pierced both of them in the septum, in both their nipples. “That’s all we need to start, I think,” Phil said, “Why don’t you climb on and give daddy’s cock a ride boy? Then we can see how those work while I finish daddy up.”

Ethan struggled as Josh climbed up, and started lowering his ass down onto his massive cock. Josh’s first daddy had always loved opening up his son’s hole over the course of an afternoon, before sliding in his fists–but his cock had always been too small to really fuck his son. This new daddy though–he was going to be perfect in every way. Josh groaned as he felt his hole open around Ethan’s massive cock, taking it slow–but Ethan’s cum was the perfect lube now, helping stretch the boy’s hole. When he was halfway on, Phil took the cigar from Ethan’s mouth, and Josh leaned forward–Ethan heard the click of their septum piercings–and Josh kissed him, the boy’s rank mouth tasting of beer and cigarettes. He tried to pull away, but felt a tug on his nose when he did–their piercings had…merged. Josh leaned in closer, pressing their chests together, and their nipples stuck in the same way–Josh was now impaled on his cock, and latched to him, slowly sliding lower onto his massive cock, as Ethan panicked.

“Calm down now,” Phil said, as he got his tattoo needle ready again, “They come apart once you both cum. Just enjoy being close to your son, Ethan.”

“He’s not my son!” Ethan shouted through Josh’s mouth, and Phil just smiled, and got started on his arm, quickly sketching out a classic heart with “My Son” in the middle–and an arrow through it–or a cock, really, a cock spewing cum and piss down the rest of his arm. Josh could…feel this ink differently. Each little prick seemed to shift something in his mind, and as it took form…he found he could remember Josh–because Josh was…his son. His real son, and he…he loved him so much, didn’t he? Josh moaned, his ass now resting on the base of Ethan’s massive cock. “Fuck son, dadd’s so fuckin’ proud of you!” he said into Jason’s mouth between kisses. “Ride daddy’s big tool boy–I wanna see that hole gape.”

“Oh daddy…I…I missed you so much,” Josh moaned, and started sliding up and down on his new daddy’s cock, both of them kissing more passionately and Phil kept working, moving over to his other arm now. First, some lettering at the top of the shoulder– “Months Since Daddy’s Last Shower:”–and then below it, Phil started making hash marks, and after each one, Ethan started getting dirtier, and dirtier, and dirtier, as his memories of showers, of any hygiene really, faded further and further into the past. It…His son had wanted him to stop bathing, he said he wanted to see just how nasty his daddy could be. So they’d agreed on a tattoo to…to keep track. But that had been…months, no a year, no two years, no…no almost five years ago now, right? The hash marks ran down the outside of his arm, almost to his wrist–marking off four and a half years since his last shower–and Ethan stank to high heaven of musk, and smoke, and cum, and piss–but it was only driving Josh into a frenzy. With a roar, Ethan came, flooding his boy’s hole with his massive load of cum, feeling it drain out around his cock and into his lap–and that was enough for Josh to cum as well, shooting a much smaller load all over his daddy’s belly. They kept kissing for a moment, and then pulled apart–their rings separating again like magic.

“Fuck man, you…really outdid yourself. He’s fucking perfect,” Josh said to Phil, cum running down the inside of his legs. “Really…I know…I paid, but I…”

“It’s ok–what you had was special, and I’m happy I could give it to you again.”

“T-Thanks…we talked about some other stuff, can we…”

Phil laughed. It’s been a long day for your dad in that chair–why don’t you take him home for a while? When he comes in next month for his update–we can talk then, alright? I might even do those pro bono–you two are fucking hot to watch.”

Josh beamed, went over, and undid the straps holding his father to the chair, and Ethan stumbled up out of it, trying to figure out what, and who he was. Josh got him dressed in some of his filthy whities and a scummy tanktop crispy with cum, and then pulled his daddy out of the shop and to their little truck. By the time they got home to their little stinking trailer, Ethan was feeling almost normal again–that, and he was already horny as hell for his son’s hole. Josh was only too happy to ride his dad’s massive cock again of course–and by morning, neither of them could remember that their lives had ever been different from this.