Tag: slob

The Brusier Rapes – Episode 4 (Part 1)

All else considered in the nightmare this case was becoming, I had to remind myself that (all things being equal) if you ignored the fact I was imprisoning a man in my basement and fucking him, this was, still, a substantial break in the case. It wasn’t until the next morning that I thought to dig through the biker’s cut up clothing, find his wallet, and check his ID. He did, in fact, have a license, and a name–Steven Perkins. He laughed when he saw I had found it, and just told me that his friends called him Cumster. I ignored him, as much as I knew he still deserved to be…punished, and left the basement, making sure he had food and water, and then remembered to shower–finally.

How many days had it been at that point? It was such a relief, feeling the water wash over me, taking away some of the thoughts and compulsions–or maybe I was just imagining it, but even the illusion was enough to give me some confidence I still had some power here. I was, after all, literally the one holding the keys to his freedom–as I should be. The righteousness was distressing, still is distressing, to some extent, but I’ve had to learn to embrace it. To accept that what I feel is, necessarily, right. It is mine, the core of it at least. Whatever might happen to me, I know, in the end, I will win–because order has to win. I will not allow these agents of chaos to have their way…and that’s why I have to do this, why I am writing this. For myself, hopefully. If not, for someone else who can carry on in my stead.

I wonder if you’re hearing the voice too, now. If it can reach even through writing. I pity you, if you are, but know that I will bring order to you as well, one day.

I hadn’t checked in at the precinct in over a day now, and I was certain the brass was going nuts, wondering if I’d gone the way of Jules, and fucked this case over even more. I got in the car and went in. I spent the first hour getting raked over the coals for not getting this case under control, because someone had gone and leaked details of the second rape to the media. I knew immediately who it had been–Marcus. Probably, he was angry at me for not giving him a chance to speak to Ray in the interrogation room, but I couldn’t see how this would help him…although, it did put everyone on high alert. I wondered, again, if he could be the rapist behind all of this, pretending to play a victim in order to get closer to the case and track our progress. He also, I supposed, could have been a friend of the rapist, much like Cumster, working with him to confuse us and keep him off the trail…but that didn’t seem right either. He really was desperate to find him, and given Bernard’s behavior, it seemed consistent with someone the rapist hadn’t had a chance to…finish. Or had purposefully decided to leave unfinished.

Jules still hadn’t shown up anywhere. No one had seen Bernard or Ray. The case was out of control, and they were looking to me–had I found something? Anything? A lead? Something to feed the press hounding them all about what they were doing about this strange serial rapist? I couldn’t tell them about the man locked up in my basement, but I told them I may have found someone else with a history with the rapist–we had talked, but then he’d gotten spooked and disappeared, but not before I’d gotten his name. So I ran Steven Perkins through the system–and I found plenty. Multiple arrests for public indecency. He’d been in jail until just recently, in fact…and it looked like he’d left before the end of his sentence, but the file didn’t explain why. He was just released one day–without any clear reason.

That was concerning, but what I was really looking for was anything further back, anything about his past that I could use on him, something that could get him to talk. But again, just like Ray–there was nothing past a certain point, about seven years before that, aside from two other arrests for public indecency–and these mugshots were markedly different from the man down in my basement. Young, small, and utterly terrified, caught sucking cock in two different rest area bathrooms, but nothing had come of the charges in either case.

I had my confirmation then. Whoever this rapist was, they had been active for years at this point, and was only choosing to go public with his acts now because…well, I had no clue. But at the bar, Steven had said that something about him had changed–about the rapist that is. That something was different now than it had been before. I took a copy of his picture and slipped out again, not wanting anyone to yell at me for disappearing–they could do that later. I had an interrogation to do.

It wasn’t until I was back in my car, that I realized I had been half hard for most of the day, thinking about Cumster back in the basement, thinking about all the things I wanted to do to him, leaking cum into my underwear. By the time I got home, it had leaked through to the front of my pants, and thankfully, no one at the precinct had noticed the growing spot. Inside, I immediately went upstairs and changed, back into my formal uniform, though after the night before it wasn’t quite as clean and well pressed as it had been. Still, washing it would have felt wrong, somehow. It was good that it smelled a bit rank, that it smelled like me. I pulled on the leather gloves last, relieved to have them on again, and then went back down into the basement, feeling more like myself than I had in days. Feeling confident that, with a little effort, I could sort this whole case out and have everything back under control, under my law, in due time–and the first person I was going to work on was Steven, or Cumster, rather. The name really did suit him, after all.

Curse of the Homophobe (Part 9)

What did he remember? Everything was so hazy now, it seemed impossible to remember a world beyond this basement, beyond the torture and rape he was subjected to daily, which he’d grown to crave…but there had been something else. He thought about the sun. He could remember it, the sensation of it on his skin, and he clung to that, trying to piece together when he’d last felt it. Sound came next, the sound of hammer and machinery. The smell of pouring concrete and sawdust. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and he clung to it, reached for it, even as the spirit in his mind tried to tempt him away from it, tried to tell him he didn’t really want that, that what he really craved was down here, in the dark. Evan was tenacious, and the spirit was…not angry, but perturbed that he refused to give into its darkness, and so it opened up a bit further, the memory, and more came to him in a flurry.

The smell of cigars. He remembered that for sure. They were cheap ones–he didn’t make enough for anything fancy after all, and at the rate he smoked them, he cared more about quantity than quality. Other smells too–mostly his own. His unwashed pits, dirty socks and underwear, his farts and belches, and just thinking about them was getting him horny–but then, he loved the smell of a dirty man more than pretty much anything else. But something else too–or maybe…someone else. They were a bit blurry, but getting clearer, the more he thought about them, the more he could smell them, and see them, and–

***BRRAAAP***

Evan gave a start, and flung an arm up as he woke up from a nightmare he’d been having in his grungy armchair, with Robbie inches from his face, mouth still open from the belch he’d launched right into Evan’s face. He could smell it–and he could smell Robbie too, and he felt his cock shudder underneath his heavy gut, hanging over his crotch in the recliner. “Fuckin’ hell Robbie, I was sleepin’!”

“Ya were snorin’ so dang loud I couldn’t hear the damn TV is what ya were doin’!” Robbie said, and then leaned in closer and kissed him, his mouth tasting of beer, salty snacks…and something else that Evan recognized, but couldn’t quite name for some reason. He was more than happy to kiss him back of course–he loved his little sleazebag of a roommate, or boyfriend, or whatever they were.

They’d met on a construction job a few years prior, and hit it off as friends until one drunken night, they’d come onto one another. It had only been a matter of time before they moved in together, and while they were on the down low, everyone could guess what the two of them were up to. No one gave them too much shit for it, though neither of them had been a very good influence on the other. Robbie now smoked cigars like a chimney, just like Evan, and Robbie had introduced Evan to other, filthier delights. Food, for one thing. He was a hundred pounds heavier now, than when he’d met Robbie, and he hadn’t been small before. Now he was 375 pounds, and while it made work hard, having Robbie clean out all of his filthy rolls every night in bed more than made up for it.

Then, Evan felt a flash in his mind. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t right at all. He hadn’t been this person, had he? Robbie pulled away, and Evan hauled himself out of the recliner, trying to piece together his memories, but it was a struggle. “Ya alright man?”

“Yeah, just…just gimmie a minute,” Evan said, “Just…gonna get a snack.”

“I can get one for ya.”

“I’d rather stretch my legs a sec.”

Robbie shrugged, and plopped back down on the sofa with a loud fart, and Evan retreated behind him, not to the kitchen, but to the bathroom to look at himself–but when he got there, he was…horrified. The shower didn’t have a shower head, and didn’t look like it had been turned on in ages. The toilet–there simply wasn’t one. He found himself sliding back, remembering how Robbie had convinced him, finally, to just…take it out. They didn’t need one, after all, they had each other.

In the mirror, he saw himself–sloppily shaved head with a thick beard hiding three chins. He was wearing a grubby, heavily stained wife beater and some no longer white briefs…and he thought he looked…hot. The spirit was pushing harder now–and Evan could sense it wasn’t just trying to get him to accept this life–but forget everything else. More than anything else, though, he was tired. Maybe he should stop. Maybe he should just…accept this, and live with it. HIs gut growled, and he thought about having a snack, and then Robbie would feed him one of his special weight gain shakes before bed, always with his favorite ingredients…

Evan slapped himself, trying to force himself out of it. The curse was still active, he could get out of this. All he had to do was find someone to insult him. After all, anything would be better than this, right? He went to the bedroom, found a pair of overalls and some boots, and threw them on as quick as he  could, before Robbie noticed what he was doing. He couldn’t explain this after all–Robbie would never believe him. So he slipped out of the apartment Without an explanation, and didn’t dare stop once he hit the sidewalk, even though he was winded by the time he got to the corner.

It was late in the evening now, and the streets weren’t too busy–but beggers couldn’t be choosers. He’d have to find some way to make someone insult him quick, or he could already tell, he’d lose himself again, wander back up to that apartment, and find himself living the filthy life with Robbie for the rest of his days. However, he also knew he didn’t exactly pass for a faggot at the moment, so he was going to have to try pretty hard to get someone’s attention.

Alright, let’s see how this round goes for Evan, and if he can escape his current fate.

  1. He remembers one of his neighbors is an elderly homophobe
  2. He hits on a beefy cop he passes on the street.
  3. He hits on some wealthy businessmen downtown.

  4. He gives in and goes home to Robbie (END)

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Voting ends on Thursday!

Taming the Beast (Part 9)

The door behind him clicked and opened, and Mark stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Jacob managed to pry himself away from the trough long enough to snarl and look at him, but then the beast forced him back down into the slop. “Now now, Jacob–don’t fret. You’ll be safe here, just like all of my other pets down here. You’ll meet them all eventually…well, maybe you will. It depends on how long you last, really, in there. After all, Beastie has met most of them already, haven’t you?”

He felt a grunt come out of his mouth, and sensed it was something affirmative. Mark stepped closer, and Jacob could…smell him. Had he smelt that…good before? He was wearing different clothes than he usually did, they were soaked with cum, with…so many different kinds, but mostly his own, and Jacob felt his…or rather, their cock hardening. Mark ran his hands over Jacob’s wide ass, feeling the crisp briefs he had on, and then tugged them down, giving him access to his crack, which he ran his own cock along, feeling Jacob’s body squirm in excitement.

“I must say, when I saw what you could do, back in the hospital, I knew I had to have you, but I never would have imagined you could be such a delight. Just my type–once you’re properly trained, I might even let you wander the house–just tell everyone you’re my pet hog, if anyone asks, not that anyone will, of course.”

“H-How?” Jacob managed to force out through a mouthful of food.

“How? How did I do it? It was easy–you know how. You’re weak. The beast was always the strongest part of you, you were just holding it back. I’ve set it free, and given it exactly what it has always wanted–the perfect life for a little beastie like him.”

Jacob tried to object, tried to talk to the beast in control of him, but Mark forced his cock into him then, and everything else…disappeared for a while. No–he disappeared for a while, like when he was hypnotized, and he didn’t resurface for…well, he didn’t know how long, exactly, but when he woke up later, the trough was empty, licked nearly clean, and his gut…ached. Ached, and it was so big–bigger than it had ever been before this, and from the smell of cum in the room, he’d just jacked off…but the cum smelled different than usual. It was hard to see, around the huge gut, but he managed to get a peek at it, and saw that it wasn’t…human anymore. So much of him wasn’t human anymore. He was a freak, an animal. He felt something chaffing his neck, and felt a steel collar there, padlocked on, and he wanted to break it, wanted to tear it to shreds, but the beast just…laughed at him. A hyena like laugh in his mind, and he started to recede again, falling back into the darkness of himself.

It was true, wasn’t it. He was weak. He’d always been the weakest. But this wasn’t freedom. He screamed at the beast, telling him he thought this was freedom, but he was nothing. Just a pet, a slave, some sexual freak. All he received back was a silence, and then a pressure, a force driving him back down into the dark, and he was gone again. The beast felt him recede, and laid back on the floor of his room.

The man was right, he supposed. He was nothing more than a pet, really. No better than he’d been with Bacanal, no better than he’d been when locked away by the man. He could get free…maybe, but he was so used to gluttony, sloth and lust now, that it was hard to imagine the fierce forms it had taken back in the hospital. What did it matter, in the end? He was a pet, but he was satisfied. He was a sex freak, but he’d never experienced pleasure like this before. It was slavery, but it you got everything you wanted, wasn’t that just as good as freedom, in a way? The door clicked, and swung open. Beastie crawled through it, and saw Cumrag there in the room, tied up, ass up, and he went over and shoved his snout into the man’s hole and licked. He liked the taste of this one. Liked how he moaned when Beastie fucked him, liked how eager he was for attention, and especially liked how rough he could be with him.

Months passed by. Jacob surfaced less and less, and every time he did, there was less of him that came back from the darkness. Without context, he couldn’t really distinguish between himself in the beast…and by the time he realized the beast’s mind was actually absorbing him, it was too late for him to even consider what it might mean to resist. Mark thought about intervening, but it would have been a substantial amount of work…and really, what good was he to anyone? Beastie was truly the better half–best to just do away with what wasn’t necessary. Beastie kept growing, helped by his constant, massive meals, and after six months he was nearly eight feet tall, and weighed close to a ton. Mark had been forced to renovate two of the other rooms into one sizable pigpen, with a mud hole which he and his pet enjoyed fucking in regularly. After a year, Beastie couldn’t even recall a time when he hadn’t lived with his master, as his pet. It was simply who he was–and he couldn’t imagine any life he could want more than this one.

Taming the Beast (Part 8)

Jacob didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t feel like he was getting better, certainly…but he did trust Mark, didn’t he? After all, he never would have gotten out of the hospital at all, if it hadn’t been for his help, and if Mark thought he was a danger to anyone at all, he knew that he would never let him hurt someone else again. He decided to do as he suggested, and trust that he would pull his way out of the slump soon, and things would become a bit more normal…but were things becoming normal, or was he just getting used to how filthy his life had become? Men kept coming around to see him, men he couldn’t even remember calling, and the sex he had with them was getting…stranger. He fucked them, always, but also took to soaking them down in his piss, and covering them in his cum, making sure that when they left, they smelled like him…like his property, like his mates.

Then, he went into another rage at work, and this time went too far–they fired him on the spot, and he was just…so frustrated, so angry, and he didn’t feel like he had anywhere to put it…so he ate. He ate, and he fucked, and he drank, and he didn’t rest for days. The next appointment with Mark blew past without him even thinking about it, he just didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to exist. It was two days after that, when Mark arrived at his door…and he was so relieved to see him, that he fell to his knees and sobbed. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore. He couldn’t trust himself, he’d given the beast too much control because…because he was weak. So weak. That’s what Mark told him, that he’d spent so long with the beast out, that he didn’t have the capacity to contain him anymore. Jacob didn’t want to believe it, it couldn’t be true…but when Mark hauled him up and dragged him into the bathroom to look at himself–really look at himself, he was terrified.

It wasn’t his face in the mirror. Or, it was kind of his face, but it was…twisted and bestial, with a snout pushing out around his mouth and nose, two tusks pushing out from his lower jaw, the hair on his head and beard looking more like boar bristle than human hair. He begged Mark to take him back to the hospital, to take him somewhere where he would be safe…but Mark told him he thought the hospital would be the worst possible thing for them both. The beast would panic. He would fight, and turn vicious, and most likely, Jacob in his weakened state wouldn’t be able to regain control, and in the end, he’d just be locked up in a cage for the rest of his life, in a ultramax prison with the rest of the villains of the world. But he wasn’t a villain, right? No–he just needed some time to get back on his feet…but he did need to be supervised. Mark graciously offered him a room down in the basement of his house, and Jacob was so thankful he didn’t think twice. So thankful in fact, that he sucked the doctor’s cock, right there in his apartment. It was just…the right thing to do. To show how much he respected him. To show him how important he was. Some time under the doctor’s direct care was just what he needed. He left with him, not wanting to wait in case the beast resisted, and they got to Mark’s home shortly before dark. They went downstairs and into a large, bare room with several doors on each wall. Mark ushered him into one of them, and while it wasn’t much larger than the room he’d had in the hospital, he should be appreciative, shouldn’t he?

Mark shut the door behind him, and told him he would be back soon with some food for him, and Jacob couldn’t shake the sense of unease he was feeling. The beast had hated being stuck in the hospital, and he’d been certain it would fight this too. But it hadn’t. If anything, he felt better now than he had in his apartment. Safer. Like everything was working out exactly like he thought it should…except it wasn’t. He had none of his things, not even a change of clothes or a toothbrush–not that he’d been using one lately. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going. He looked around, but there wasn’t a phone anywhere, or a TV…or really anything. There wasn’t even a bed, or a window, just some lights inset in the wall behind glass or plastic. It was a cell. He was in a cell.

He went to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. He was locked in here–he’d let himself get trapped in here, like an idiot! Still, the door was nothing compared to what the beast was capable of, right? He focused, trying to reach for it, trying to harness it…but while it was there, it was calm. No–more than calm, it was relaxed, and watching him panic, and enjoying this. It wanted to be here.

There was a loud thunk from the long wall of the cell, and the bottom foot or so angled out, revealing a shallow trough running the entire length. A moment later, slop slid down into, steaming slightly, and Jacob felt his gut rumble, and the beast licked its chops. No–no, he licked his lips, right? Jacob was still trying to understand what was happening to him in his mind, as his body lowered itself down onto his hands and knees and crawled over to the trough, shoving his short snout into it and devouring as much of it as he could, as quickly as he could, while it was still warm and delicious.

Taming the Beast (Part 7)

The whole rest of the week, Jacob noticed that he was feeling a bit…strange. Well, strange wasn’t really the best way to describe it–what he was mostly feeling, was hungry. Hungrier than he could really ever remember being in the past, in fact. His meals doubled in size, much to his dismay, but whenever he tried to exert a bit of self-control, it would crumble by the time he ate next, and he’d end up gorging himself until he could barely move. It became a problem at work especially, being around food all the time. He would sneak snacks right off the grill or out of the fryer, and afterwards, started taking home anything that was leftover and would usually be thrown out, and stuffing himself with it before going to bed for the night.

As unnerving as it was, he hesitated bringing it up with Mark. He was just so happy being out of the hospital, and he knew that at the first sign of a setback, he could be readmitted immediately. So he did his best to pretend like nothing was going on at all, as he watched his weight steadily creep upward on the scale he kept in the bathroom, until in a fit of shame and panic he threw it out and went on a weekend long binge, cleaning out his cupboards and fridge, stopping only to masturbate every few hours–though he found it easy enough to do both things at the same time. That was the final straw. He had to talk to Mark about this, even if it meant going back to the hospital. This had to be something to do with the beast–there was no other explanation that he could think of for these sudden urges.

At their next session, before Mark hypnotized him, Jacob told him about what had been happening to him. About the binging, and the fact that he seemed to be masturbating more and more often. Mark was troubled by the new developments, and they talked about it for a while, trying, together, to determine whether what was happening posed a danger to him, or to anyone else. In the end, Mark left the decision up to Jacob, if he wanted to go back to the hospital or not–and Jacob told him this was something he’d rather deal with himself. It felt so good being back out in the world, and he wasn’t ready to go back to being locked up again, not until he felt like he couldn’t handle this himself. Mark told him that he would have a word with the beast, and see if he could understand what this sudden shift in behavior might mean. He seemed to be under for…a very long time. Several hours, at least, and when he came too again, Mark was sitting across from him, though his face was rather grave.

“Was…was everything alright?” Jacob asked him, sitting up from the couch where he’d been lying down.

“Yes, I mean, these compulsions of yours do seem to be related to the beast, but…well, I can’t know anything without further observation. I think the best thing you can do is try to resist them as best you can. Keep track if possible–how often you binge, how often you masturbate, anything else that sticks out to you as odd. We’ll try to get a baseline for the behavior, and see if it gets worse, alright?”

Jacob did his best for a few days, but he kept forgetting about keeping a journal, and the whole exercise just…didn’t interest him much at all. Work was the same. Over the next few weeks, he found himself getting aggravated at his boss and coworkers, and would on occasion break out into a sudden rage that would catch him off guard. He didn’t do any real harm, aside from a couple of broken dishes, but the fact that it kept happening…it terrified him. Was he really ready to be out here with people? He found himself wondering about every tic and every thought, and the constant self-awareness was exhausting. He started oscillating between days where he would try to constantly check himself, and days where he would give up and just indulge in…everything. He would stuff himself, drink excessively, masturbate over and over, miss work, and even fuck on occasion. Men–always men, something he had never done before in his life, but he loved it, and the rougher he got with them, the harder he came–and most of them came back for seconds.

It was Mark who brought up his hygiene one session, awkwardly, like he’d been hoping Jacob would mention it finally, without him having to bear the burden of broaching it. Without having to humiliate Jacob with the knowledge that he hadn’t even noticed how dirty he was becoming. He hadn’t trimmed his beard in weeks at that point, and it was coming in thick–much thicker than he could remember it looking the last time he’d tried growing one out. The same went for his hair, which was quite long, as well as the hair on the rest of his body, which was filling in thicker than he knew it should over his now substantial gut. Looking down at himself, and paying attention to it, he realized that he couldn’t clearly recall the last time he’d taken a shower, and he also couldn’t remember when he’d last changed his clothes. He’d been wearing the same outfit for work without washing it for over a week, which no one had complained about out of fear it might set one of his rages off, and he hadn’t changed the underwear beneath that in…a month? More? It was wet, at the moment, since he’d jacked off before coming over, but he could smell cum…so much cum. They were saturated, as was the undershirt he was wearing. He felt ashamed of himself, ashamed that he was losing so much control, so quickly, without even realizing it in the moment. He couldn’t trust himself, he couldn’t be trusted with himself, but he also couldn’t bear the thought of going back to that hospital either…though he knew Mark was going to call for it.

But to his surprise, Mark didn’t. In fact, he told Jacob that he thought he’d been improving, and after the session he seemed really pleased with how Jacob was progressing. These new behaviors were a surprise, sure, and might be difficult to adjust to, but he was going to have to deal with the fact that the beast inside him was, from now on, most likely going to be a more immediate presence in his life. The best thing he could do, in Mark’s opinion, was keep it satisfied, and likely, in a few more weeks, they’d manage to reach a new equilibrium. It might not be what Jacob wanted, necessarily, but this was most likely the course his power was going to develop. Fighting it would likely only make it worse.

Taming the Beast (Part 6)

The good thing about Cumrag, was that he had the stamina and the vitality to take pretty much anyone Mark brought down here–and Mark had a feeling this beast was going to be a rough fucker. He took one look at the beast standing in the central room, and had a feeling he knew what his Master wanted from him…and he was looking forward to it. He hadn’t been used in weeks now, and he hated it. Hated how lonely it could be down here, just jacking off, fantasizing about his Master using him–needing him–though why anyone would need a cumrag like him was beyond his limited comprehension. “What do you need, Master?”

“Get in the sling cumrag, and don’t talk. Your voice is grating.” Cumrag nodded, and hopped up into the sling, cape hanging under him, and Mark secured his legs up in the holsters, before stepping to one side and displaying him for the beast. “I know you were used by other patrons, on occasion, but please–have your way with the thing. I assure you–it can take anything you want to give, it’s more resilient than it seems, physically at least.”

The beast didn’t hesitate. While it had often serviced people in the bar, it had only rarely gotten the opportunity to fuck…and the few times it had, had been incredibly enjoyable. He assumed that the doctor was telling the truth, and rammed his cock in roughly, not bothering to worry about Cumrag’s feelings, and while he had to muffle a gasp of surprise, his hole opened easy and wide. In less than a minute, the beast was gripping Cumdump’s thighs, slamming his massive cock in up the the hilt, listening to the sloppy sounds of the one-time-hero’s now totally loose hole, the cumrag’s eyes rolling back in his head, helplessly jacking off, so thrilled to be used again, even if it wasn’t his master using him.

“Just think–this hole could be yours at any time, whenever you desire it,” Mark said, coming close to the beast, stroking his burly, hairy arm, leaning in to sniff at his foul musk. “You could indulge your every base desire, explore all of the pleasures of the Earth, right here. His isn’t the only hole I possess either. There are others, and if you please me, you can fuck as much as you want, my handsome beast,” He turned the beast’s muzzle to him, stood on his toes, and licked at his snout, the beast extending his tongue and kissing him as best he could, breath hot and panting as he fucked harder, getting closer and closer to the edge. “You’re have no idea what you’re capable of, you have no idea what you could become. I can help you–let me help you. Let me free you from the man’s shackles, and live here, as my beast, indulging in every profane desire you can imagine. Be mine, and I’ll give you pleasures you have never thought possible.”

The beast came soon after, letting loose with something between a grunt, growl and a roar, unloading a massive load of cum deep into the hero’s hole, and the orgasm was nothing like he’d felt before, when he’d been with Bacanal. Back then, everything had felt good, all the time–but this was a pleasure unlike anything the beast had experienced before, and it lasted for ages. He ended up sitting on the ground while Mark rubbed and pet him, pulling out his own cock, and coaxing it into the beast’s mouth. After all, it was only fair, wasn’t it, that if the beast got to use one of Master’s holes, that he allow master to use his hole as well. It was the price of his freedom down here–that when Master wanted him, he would have him as well, just like he had all of his other Supers down here.

Was it worth it? The beast, in the end, was convinced. After all, it was going to be owned one way or another, and the idea of ownership Jacob had for him was somehow more humiliating–using his strength ang his speed, but never allowing the beast a moment of gratification or pleasure…no, what the doctor was offering, what master was offering, was far better. They went back upstairs together, and Mark put the beast away in Jacob’s mind again, watching the bestial form fade away, and return to Jacob’s usual body. Only then, did he breathe a sigh of relief, and relax. The hard part was over now–he had his inside man. Everything else would be much, much simpler now. He brought Jacob back from his deep dream, but didn’t wake him yet–no they had quite a bit that they needed to discuss. A while later, Jacob woke up feeling refreshed…and famished. Mark offered him dinner, and Jacob was more than happy to take him up on the offer, though he admitted afterward that he made a bit of a pig of himself, eating as much as he did. Still, Mark hadn’t minded in the least–he’d just kept piling Jacob’s plate higher and higher, watching, cock half hard, already excited to watch the rest of his plan fall into place.

Emptied Out (Part 10)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emptied Out (Part 9)

Greg opened the door, and there, in the midst of the flithy laundry, on a mattress that reeked of piss, was the fattest, nastiest fucker Leonard had ever seen–but he couldn’t deny it, it was Nathan–it was his son. He rolled over from where he was snacking and looked at the door, “Oh hey! Ya must be daddy’s friends he said were comin’ o’er. Ya…wanna come play with me?”

“Hawt damn boy! That’s one sexy fuckin’ pig, it’ll be a fuckin’ honor tah pump a load in his dirty hole.”

“No! Nathan, Nathan, you have to listen to me, you have to get out of here!”

“Nah boy, just stay right there, and get that ass ready fer some redneck fuckin’.”

“Both of you shut up for a second,” Greg said, and both Leo and Leonard felt their lips knot up, while Greg stepped inside and went to Nate on the bed, pulling a used condom from his pocket. “I’ve been saving this for you, Nate–the little bit I saved of Nathan back before you left, one load of cum you pumped out for me on the couch before Biff arrived. It isn’t much, so be careful with it. Biff told me how fast you lost the rest, so maybe now you understand how important this is a little better.”

Nate didn’t quite know what Greg was talking about, but he did love cum, and so he guzzled down the chilled cum from the condom, and when it hit his guts, Nathan shuddered in horror. He was so fucking filthy, and all the filth he’d done with Biff over the last two weeks…he looked over at his dad in the doorway, or the nasty fucking redneck who had been his dad, and still was his dad…sort of.

“Now, why don’t the two of you spend the afternoon together? Just so you know, if you can refrain from any…funny business, both of you will be back in control, eventually. Somehow, I don’t think you’ll be able to manage, right Leo?”

“Fuckin’ right! I’m fuckin’ that fuckin’ piggy, and gettin’ mah big, nasty fuckin’ redneck cock, just like Master promised me!”

He lunged for the bed, and all Leonard could do was tip him off balance so he missed, and landed among the filthy laundry around the bed. He did his best to keep control of his body–but Leo was horny, and fucking strong willed. It made sense, after all–he was the brains, and Leonard was just the balls. Nathan stayed on the bed, paralyzed. He didn’t know what to do, or even what to believe. He hadn’t had any Nathan in him in so long, the clarity, and the shame, was…horrifying. He didn’t really hate himself this much, did he? He grabbed for another fag and lit it, holding it in shaking fingers, trying to sort out what was real, and what wasn’t. He looked for Greg, but he’d slipped from the room–maybe. With all the control over them that he had, maybe they just couldn’t see him.

Leo smacked himself in the junk. “Ya ain’t in fuckin’ charge no more. Master gave this body tah me, ‘n I happen tah fuckin’ like it! Now, yer gonna get blown intah yer son’s hole, ‘n there ain’t nothin’ ya can do tah stop me.” Leo lunged for the bed again, but Leonard pulled him back, both of them screaming and shouting at each other, but Leo had another idea. Instead of going for the bed, he instead hauled his cock out of his jeans–or Leonard’s cock, since that was the one thing Master hadn’t changed about him yet–and stroked it slowly. Caught off guard, Leonard moaned in sudden, unexpected pleasure. His cock had never felt like that before, but then again, he’d never been entirely in his cock and balls before, had he? Leo just kept stroking, and Leonard lost focus, Leo whispering sweet things to him, telling him he was going to make him feel so good, and he made it onto the bed.

Leonard knew he should stop him, pull him back, but…but he didn’t want Leo to stop touching him. Nathan put up a bit of a struggle, but while Leo was fat, he had much more muscle than Nathan did at this point. “No…no, I…let my dad go, let us go, please let us go…” he said.

Leo slapped him–hard. Harder than Biff had ever hit him, and Nathan just sat on the bed, stunned. “Pig, I can fuck ya real gentle ‘n nice like, right here, right now, ‘n have ya squealin’ in delight, or I can go git the rope outta mah truck, hogtie ya, beat ya, ‘n ream yer ass raw. I don’t care how I gits this load in ya, but it’s goin’ in. Now–ya gonna go easy like?” Nathan looked at the filthy roughneck leering over him, and rolled over, presenting his hole to him. Leo…was kind of sexy, and he…he didn’t know what he wanted anymore. He didn’t want to be this, and he didn’t want to think about this anymore–it was too tiring, the horror of it all. It had been so easy just…feeling good, and when Leo slipped the head of Leonard’s cock into Nathan’s ass–it felt like the answer to all of his problems.

Emptied Out (Part 7)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emptied Out (Part 6)

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

“N-No daddy,” he muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ya wanna hump daddy’s ass boy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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