Tag: slob

The King’s Ring (1 of 2) – Reminder: after this weekend, all of my original content will be moving over to my main blog, @wesleybracken. Make sure you’re following me there if you don’t want to miss any posts!

There’s something…wrong, with my boyfriend. We were a pretty normal couple, just a couple of twinks, really. We worked, went to the gym together, went clubbing and dancing on the weekend. Sure, we did drugs on occasion, but we’re young, right? But one day, he comes home with this…ring on his finger. I ask him about it, and he tells me he got it at some strange store he happened across on his way home from work, but he didn’t seem to walk to talk about it. I mean, we both wear jewelry a bit, sure, but it just seemed…old, and not at all his style. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, but that…it seems like that when things started to get a bit strange.

Slowly, he stopped going to the gym. He tried to keep up for a few weeks, but he kept telling me he was just too tired, and didn’t feel like it, and he started begging off. I kept going, of course, but I’d come home, and find him on the couch…stuffing his face, and as soon as I’d arrive he’d fucking want sex! I tried to say no, but he’d always get me on my knees, sucking him off while he just…kept eating, and watching TV, like…like I didn’t even matter, and he’d never fucking reciprocate anymore. It was confusing–I was usually the top, but now, all I was doing was sucking him off, or he might, on occasion, fuck me. I…didn’t even really want to have sex with him, and he disgusted me, really, but I…couldn’t say no to him. It just didn’t feel right.

Within three months…he didn’t even look like the same person anymore. He’d packed on…I don’t know, two hundred pounds? He had a huge gut, a thick beard across his face, and hair all over his body too, which I thought was so fucking gross. I…hated him, really. I despised him, and I wanted to leave–just ditch him there, but I…couldn’t. As much as I hated it, I kept going back there, I kept sucking him off, and…and licking him clean. He wouldn’t shower anymore–he was telling me that was my job, to give him nice tongue baths every day, everywhere from between his grungy toes, to his ass crack, his pits and the deepening folds of his neck. He was enjoying humiliating me, making me worship him. I cook for him constantly, whenever I’m home–hell, he’s forbidden me from going to the gym now, because he needs more and more food! But tonight…tonight, something in me just fucking snapped.

He’d…pissed himself on the sofa, and was just lying in it. I was so utterly disgusted by it, that I just started screaming at him, shouting, calling him every cruel name I could think of, and tell him I was done, that I was done with him, that if he wanted to be some slob, he could do it alone. Finally I stopped, and tried to move my feet, tried to leave…but I couldn’t. And he’s just…laughing at me. It doesn’t even sound like him, he’s almost some different person entirely. Then…then I saw the ring, how it was catching the light, drawing my attention to it.

“Now, now. We can’t have you leaving now, can we? Who will take such good care of us?” he said, “No–but you do need to be punished, don’t you? Yes…a good punishment for a bad, bad slave. Now come over here, and kiss the ring of your king, like a good little bitch.”

Source: jbearv

Stinkers – Coach’s Senior Gifts (Part 5)

Erik wasn’t sure if Paul was trying to push him off, or was merely pushing up against him. Either would have been fine with him–after all, whether his teammate was enjoying what was happening to him or not, it was happening to them both. He would either enjoy it or not–whichever it was, it was likely that Paul had no control over his own feelings, or his own body, or his own destiny, at this point. Erik had long since given up any sort of belief that he might become anything other than what his coach wanted–and indeed, had begun to relish everything Coach Robinson had chosen to do to him.

The hair which had sprouted from the jockstrap was slowly eating away the very mesh of the pouch, and after a few minutes, he felt his cock flop out, and his balls as well. Reaching down with a hand, he felt them, giving the musky shaft a good stroke–it was longer than it had been before, and shaped…slightly different. His balls were fuller as well, and coated in fur. His belly and the front of his legs were becoming covered now, and his previous flat stomach was beginning to round out, as a small, hard gut formed over his abs, but the rest of his muscles were heating up, and expanding. The heat was even penetrating his bones, making them lengthen as well–it was painful, but…worth it. Worth it, if he could become what his coach wanted, even if that meant he couldn’t be as special as Anton–it wasn’t up to him, though this thought did little to curb his disappointment.

Instead, he took that anger out on Paul, beneath him, pinning him to the concrete, grinding their crotches together, snarling and growling at him with his bearish muzzle, licking his lips over foul teeth, leering down at the boar beneath. He’d hoped that Paul would hate this, that this would be torture, or punishment, but after his initial hesitation, he was grinding back, rearing up to meet Erik’s face and mash their snouts together in strange, unfamiliar kisses.

Paul’s own jock was undergoing changes that were quite different from Erik’s. The pouch had dried out and hardened, but rather than become solid and brittle, it had become leather–or perhaps a better word would be hide. It had covered his cock and balls for now, making them disappear, but it was clear that something was happening beneath it. Paul could…feel his cock, working hard to push it’s way back out, and with a painful tear, the hide broke towards the top, and a strange, pink cock pushed it’s way out, like a drill emerging from the earth. Even the head was corkscrew shaped, and covered in a foul smelling slime. The base of the hide began to distend now, as his new balls descended. True to his new form, they were heavy and large, hanging low against his thighs. Done with his crotch, the rest of his skin began to change now as well, becoming the same leathery hide as the jock had become, though some areas turned quite a bit darker than others. What emerged was a piebald pattern–much of his skin was the same light pink as before, but large spots of deep brown had filled in as well. With a grumble in his gut, fat began to pile on his body–far more than Erik, though Paul got a fair share of muscle as well. His tits swelled in particular, which Erik began groping roughly in his hands, other nipples sprouting down the front of him, swelling to the size of thumbs.

Paul slid down, underneath Erik, searching for his new cock amidst the hair coating his body. It was rank and matted, dripping sweat on his face, which his tongue happily lapped up between grunts and squeals. Erik found the boar’s mouth first, driving in, filling his snout and touching the back of his throat. The changes had covered their torsos and most of their legs, and were now progressing down their arms, and up their necks to their new faces. Erik’s ears shifted up to the top of his head, as hair filled in all over his face–Paul’s ears also shifted to the top of his skull, but grew out and flattened, the edges cracked slightly, his eyes shrinking and setting back a bit deeper into his skull. The hair on the top of his head fell out, but long bristle sprouted all along his back and neck, but left his underbelly barren and rough. Erik’s hands gripped Paul’s head, his nails thickening and darkening into long claws. He dug in–enough to hurt and perhaps scratch, but not enough to truly make the boar bleed–and began slamming his cock in deeper, as deep as it could go, Paul hungry for cum, hungry for piss, desperate for anything wet.

The bear man finally rolled the boar over, tugging at the curly tail which had sprouted above Paul’s ass, and reached back to feel his own, stubby and furry one behind him. He ate out the pig’s hole for a bit, tasting the rank sweat and dirt, before sliding his cock into the hilt, Paul letting off a loud squeal–likely loud enough to be heard in the school proper, though at this time, the only people around were the janitors, who knew better than to disturb Coach Robinson’s time with his athletes. Paul groped around underneath his flabby body, looking for his cock–which he managed to grab hold of eventually. It wasn’t easy gripping it–his fingers had fused together into semi-worthless trotters, but the rough hoof against his slimy cock only made his squeal more, his balls pumping out a massive puddle of precum, which his belly slid around on. With a growl, Erik planted his hairy, wider and clawed feet on the tile, gripped the pig’s hips tight in his claws, and kept fucking. Their humanity seemed so distant now–more like a dream, some strange fancy their animal minds might have invented–but this…this is who they were now, and neither of them was sure they’d go back, even if they could.

Hypno Test Subject 

“Look…I just thought you might be interested in it, because you seem like someone hypnosis could really help. A bit more confidence, a little more focus. Maybe even help you with weight loss, of you like it…”

Jerry grimaced at that–sure, he was…fat, but it wasn’t something he liked people mentioning. He looked over at Oliver, his roommate. He’d been working on a project for some strange neuroscience class or something, developing a serum which could induce a powerful hypnotic state. He said it had already been tested in some animals, and was getting ready for human trials, but he was excited to see if it would work, and had asked Jerry if he’d be a willing, and secret, subject.

Jerry eventually agreed, mostly because he wasn’t very good at saying no to anyone, something Oliver was well aware of. His roommate was a wimp, really–chubby, nervous, a bit anti-social…but he was also kind of cute, in a hopeless way. Oliver was no looker himself, with buck teeth and his big glasses–it didn’t help that he was gay on top of that. Jerry rolled up his sleeve and let Oliver inject him with the serum, and a minute or two later, he was feeling…good. Almost like he’d started floating. Oliver was talking to him, but he wasn’t really listening…or maybe he was listening so hard he just couldn’t quite hear anything. Jerry realized he was talking back on occasion too…but mostly, everything just felt…nice, and he barely noticed the hours passing him by.

*~*~*

“Now, tell me what you are,” Oliver asked. The session had gone on for a couple of hours at this point, and he was feeling good about where Jerry was going–with who he was becoming.

“I’m a fat, worthless, faggot pigslave. Your pigslave, sir,” Jerry droned back at him. He was naked at this point, on his knees in front of Oliver. All he had on was a loose collar and leather manacles on his wrists and ankles.

“That’s good. Very good pig,” Oliver said, stroking his own cock in excitement. “What do you want, more than anything, pig?”

“My master’s cum and piss…his sweat…anything you’re willing to give a worthless pig like me, sir.” Jerry’s eyes looked up at Oliver–still not seeing much with any clarity, but he smiled anyway at him.

Oliver ruffled his new pig’s hair–he was going to need a shave tonight, after his first fuck. And then, Jerry wouldn’t be leaving the room for the rest of the semester. Pigs, after all, didn’t go to class. Pigs didn’t think. Pigs just obeyed, and they ate, and they got fatter and stupider for their masters. He’d be lonely for a while, but in a week or two, Oliver would put one or two of his jock bullies under as well. Then he’d have a nice piggy harem. Maybe Jerry would even be top hog, feeding those skinny jocks all day while Oliver was at class. He deserved something, for helping him out like this with his project. He stepped forward, and the pig swallowed down his master’s cock for the first time with a snort, and Oliver knew his days as a virgin were over for good.

Musky Poppers

“Yeah, don’t bother with any of that pesky thinkin’ boy, just take another hit. I know how much you like the smell of this one. Here, let me just hole that nose for ya….yeah, real good snort, piggy boy, fuck! Now get back on that cock.”

“Stupid fuck–should be careful who’s drugs you borrow, boy. These poppers a mine are real fuckin’ powerful. In fact, you might recognize the stink of ‘em at this point, with that nose of yours pressed in my sweaty bush. Yeah–it’s me. My fuckin’ stink, all intense and shit. So fuckin’ intense, it short circuits stupid little boys like you, ‘n ya start doin’ everything I say.”

“I mean, I ain’t any real looker–at least, not if you ain’t lookin’ fer a roughneck! My musk’s always been real strong too, most guys hate it, but once they get a nice long whiff of it, well, they tend to stick around. They just can’t help it.”

“That brain of yours will turn back on in a few more hours, once I’ve got ya good ‘n broken in. Course, ya ain’t never gonna be smart like ya were! Nah, that head a yers is takin’ a real beatin’ right now, I can promise ya that. Ya also ain’t gonna be able tah go without smellin’ mah stinkin’ body fer more ‘n an hour or so–ya’ll probably try tah leave, but ya’ll come crawlin’ back, like they all do eventually. Sure, I’ll git bored a ya eventually, but you…maybe not for a while. Yer pretty fuckin’ cute, I gotta say.”

“Yeah, you…I’m gonna like keepin’ you real close, boy. Maybe get you a job with me, in the trash truck–all day, you’ll be smellin’ my pits, suckin’ my cock–have you smellin’ real filthy soon enough. Git tah know yer musk as well as I know mine, put some more tattoos on ya, put some more fat on that frame, grow out that beard.”

“Still, daddy gets tired a every boy eventually. Few years down the road, I’ll sell ya off tah some other stinky son of a bitch. He ain’t never gonna be enough fer ya, but ya’ll live. Course, if yer real good, I’ll help ya make some poppers a yer own, ‘n ya can make yerself a boy–but we’ll have tah see, won’t we? Yeah, here it comes boy–first taste a daddy’s cum. First taste of many, trust me.”

Stinkers – Coach’s Senior Gifts (Part 1)

For those wondering where the rest of “A Home of Mirrors” is, the answer is that it’s unwritten. More is planned though! Sorry if your disappointed. Kind of sorry. A bit. Like a twinge. Here’s something else instead! It also takes place in the same “Stinkers” universe as some of the other stuff I’ve put out before.

Erik’s heart was racing, and he had butterflies in his gut, but that was how he always felt, when he was going to meet Coach Robinson for one of their…secret meetings in the locker room. He was a senior on the varsity football team, but he’d been having these meetings with the coach for several years now, ever since he was a sophomore. It’s not that he was gay–no, he had already banged enough pussy to put that possibility to rest–but whenever he got around his coach…he couldn’t fucking stop himself, getting down on his knees in front of, either in or out of uniform, and sucking his cock, or begging for  raw load of the older man’s cum in his ass. Still, the team had had their last game last weekend, which meant it was the last time he’d be playing for his coach. Robinson had told him to meet him in the locker room this afternoon, after school, so he could give his best player a little parting present.

He slipped into the locker room, after making sure no one had seen him head down here. It wouldn’t exactly be very good if after all this time, he finally got caught now! Sure, he was eighteen at this point, but…hadn’t always been. He got inside and headed for his locker, knowing how coach liked to find him in here–naked, aside from the filthy jock he reserved for their special sessions…but when he looked into the locker, it wasn’t there. He dug around a bit, confused–he’d seen it in there just the other day, and the door had been locked, so where could it have gone?

“What the…where the hell…”

Erik froze–was he…not alone in here?

“I swear I had it…”

Erik thought the voice sounded like Anton, one of the wide receivers on the team. He slipped over to the other side of the locker room, and sure enough, it was him, naked, in front of his own locker, digging around for something, cursing under his breath. Should…he say something? Why was Anton even here? He was about to slip back to his own locker, and wait for him to leave (because he was surely going to leave, right?) when the door leading out of the locker room opened up, and in strode Paul–the largest linebacker on the team, and a senior like Erik and Anton.

Paul froze, looking at a naked Erik, watching an equally naked Anton pawing through his locker–well, now both of them were staring at him as well, and watching Paul’s face turn a violent red, underneath his short goatee. “Oh…I, uh…is coach around?” Paul asked.

Neither Erik, nor Anton, knew how to reply to that.

“I’m here boys–just finishing up a bit of work!” came the voice of coach Robinson from the officer in the room, “Paul, get undressed like your compatriots. Don’t worry about your…usual gear, boys. I’ll be with you all in a moment.”

That “moment” seemed to last forever. Paul got undressed like the other two, and they all just stared at one another. They didn’t…need to speak, to confirm anything. It was clear that, even though they all believed they were the only one sharing the coach’s affections, they’d been one of…well, who knew how many, really? The three of them were all seniors, after all. Did the coach have even more young men he was having sex with, in other grades? Anton felt dirty, and used. Erik was slowly being consumed by jealousy. Paul was mortified, his eyes glued to the tile floor.

Eventually, the coach did join them, however. He was in his 40’s, and while it was clear he’d been quite the athlete in his youth, he’d packed on quite a bit of fat in the intervening years. He had his usual layer of stubble around his jaw and neck, and was wearing only his own jockstrap–far dirtier than his boys’ were, and the musk was alone to send each of them into a bit of a daze. “Ah, there’s my seniors! I apologize for the three of you meeting like this, but all three of you smelled so good, I couldn’t quite settle on just one. Keeping you all a secret fro one another..well, that was a bit of a challenge for myself is all. Now, I do have gifts for all of you, as I promised–but I must say, that one of you really…well, I have something special reserved for you, Anton,” he added a wink at the young man, making him blush. Erik gritted his teeth, and nearly shouted at the coach, but one look from the older man’s eyes cut the words short. “Now, don’t feel like this is a popularity contest, you two,” he said, looking at Paul and Erik. “Anton, would you kindly go wait in my office for me, while I give these two their…own presents?”

“Y-Yes sir,” Anton said, surprised that he had been chosen, of the three. Terrified, really. He’d never…felt that comfortable about what was happening between him and the coach, and now that he knew there were others in the same position…he should run, he should report him, but instead, his feet plodded him over to Robinson’s office, where he waited.

Now, I know the two of you will consider these consolation prizes at first, but I assure you, there’s nothing you could have done to end up in Alton’s position. It’s not…what you’ve done, or how you’ve done it, it’s just who you are…Anyway, you, Erik, noticed that your jock had gone missing. I’m holding it for you–and yours too, Paul–because I have some new ones for you to try on first. I’ve made them myself, but not with myself, I assure you.” He walked over to a locker, opened it, and pulled out one wadded jockstrap–sniffed it a moment–and tossed it to Erik. Then, out came a second jock which he tossed to Paul. “There–now you two take your time with these! Enjoy your gifts. I’ll be back in a while, to see how you’re coming along, when I’m done with Anton in there.”

Robinson headed into the office, leaving the two boys sitting on the bench, each one…sniffing the jock he’d thrown them. They were hardly clean, but they also didn’t smell quite like anything, or anyone, either had smelled before. Soon, each was chewing and sucking at the filth, fading away from the world, while Anton learned his fate from his coach.

“Let’s See How He Likes It” (2 of 2)

He ended up not at the bear bar, but at one of the twink bars he usually went to when he was looking for someone hot to fuck. Only now, instead of his sexy muscled body, he was an old, slobby grandpa, reeking of cigar smoke and booze, holding down the bar and ogling all of the sexy twinks in the room…but he wasn’t…here to just stare. No…no, he needed…to do something more.

He was already ashamed of himself, of his appearance, but when one hot, muscled guy caught his eye (someone he’d fucked around with before, in his old body), he hopped off the barstool, waddled over and started hitting on him, asking that muscle god to plow his old hole into next week. He got turned down of course, and duly humiliated for even trying at all, but much to his surprise, Vince’s now much smaller cock started leaking cum, and he felt…good. Yeah, humiliating himself like that felt amazing. Unable to stop himself, he spied some other muscle fuck and begged him as well. He knew he never had a chance, but that wasn’t what he was after–not really. No, he wanted these hot men to shame him, to humiliate him and berate him. Nothing…nothing got him harder than that now, he was starting to realize.

After a few hours, he’d bugged enough guys that the bouncers tossed him out. Fine–he had…other places to go too. Now his feet were heading somewhere else, in the late night…heading back towards one of the bear bars he always used to fuck with, but now, everyone there seemed to be expecting him. They parked him in the corner on his knees, and he was the night’s cumdump and urinal. Happily so, in fact. Every load of cum and piss just got him hornier, but his cock refused to get hard–it would just…leak, soaking the crotch of his jeans in precum, but his desire only intensified.

Finally, the bar closed, and he waddled home, gut heaving with cum and piss. Home was different now–a filthy studio apartment–but while he recalled his old life clearly…he knew he’d never be going back. He got naked and logged onto the computer, ready to start messaging some of the muscle men he paid regularly–paid them to…humiliate him over video chat. Sometimes, they even shamed him enough that he was able to cum, but that usually only happened a few times a month. This was his life now–spend all day paying young men to humiliate him, cruise the hot bars for more punishment each night, drink cum and piss at the sleazy bars and bathhouses around town until the early hours of the morning, and then get up and repeat. Soon enough, his old life seemed like a dream–but he wouldn’t trade his new one for anything.

The Power of Society (Part 6)

WARNING: INCONTINENCE, SCAT

Simon tugged his shirt down again as he walked, trying to cover his hairy gut as best he could already sweaty and winded after the one block walk towards campus proper. Fuck, why did he keep doing this? He hated walking, he hated going to class. He felt like a fucking dumbass now–and everyone at the frat hated him for even trying. Hell, he kind of hated himself for trying, even, but he did it anyway. Sure, he was just a fat, slovenly, cum-hungry nerd, but maybe he could still make something of himself. There had to be something more to life than jacking off to filthy porn and playing video games, right? Well, maybe there was, for guys who weren’t nerds like him, but something still told him that he needed to try.

“Oh fuck, is that–who the fuck let the fucking Nerd out of it’s cage?”

Simon had crossed the road over to campus proper, only for a guy passing with a friend by to shout that at him. He looked over, embarrassed a bit for even existing, but he wasn’t quite prepared for the look of sheer revulsion in the young man’s eyes, looking at him. It was like he’d never seen anything more disgusting in his life, like Simon was a smear of dog shit across the man’s carpet. He tried to stammer a reply, but he’d developed a severe stutter after discovering what a nerd he was, and so he’d never really been able to get words out of his mouth.

“Dude, I know it’s gross, but if you say shit like that to it, you’ll only encourage it. You know how nerds get,” the guy’s friend said, and tugged him along.

The guy followed reluctantly, “If we don’t say anything, then the fucking things will start thinking they’re allowed here.”

Simon just stared after them. He’d thought he’d built up a resistance to it–to the stares, the disgust, the avoidance, the pity–but something about that cut right through him. But rather than feeling hurt, what he found instead, was that…it had turned him on, somehow. Unable to help himself, he groped the front of his filthy cargo shorts, feeling a wad of precum squeeze from the head of his filthy cock, forming a bit of a wet spot around the fly, and then yanked his hand away. Class–he needed to get to class. He had to stop worrying about what people thought of him–just because he was a perverted, disgusting nerd, didn’t mean he couldn’t go to class…as long as he controlled himself.

Where that last thought had come from, he wasn’t certain, but it was…right, somehow. Everyone knew nerds had no real self-control. Simon kept walking, trying to avoid people as he headed for class, but along the way, he let off a massive, stinking belch–it tasted so filthy he just stood on the sidewalk a moment, groping himself helplessly, and every cruel comment from the people passing by only made him hornier. He had to stop. If he kept this up, and campus security caught wind of him, he’d really be in trouble. He spied a bench along the path, and thought that if he could just sit for a bit and collect himself, he might be alright. After a few more heaving steps, he got there and plopped down on the bench, as a massive fart escaped his ass…and a little something more than that, which he could feel, warm, in the back of his crusty, cum coated briefs.

He’d just farted so hard, he’d shit a bit in the back of the pants. Fuck, he’s such a fucking nerd–such a disgusting, ugly, fat, perverted, filthy nerd! He licked his bearded lips and started clawing at the front of his shorts, hauling up his heavy gut so he could haul his cock out of the front of his shorts and start jacking off in public, sitting in the stench of his own shit, staring down the people passing by, wanting them to insult him, wanting them to be utterly disgusted by him. After all, he couldn’t really help himself–he was just a fucking nerd. This is just what nerds do, right? He ground his fat ass against the bench, feeling the shit smearing between his cheeks, the first load exploding from his cock, arching up onto the front of his t-shirt. A guy passing by saw him–smelled him, and stumbled past, retching. Simon just laughed, and started jacking off again, but didn’t manage to finish before the campus security guards found him. The two hulking guards ran up, wearing gas masks and their standard rubber containment gear, and the first to arrive used his cattle prod right on Simon’s junk, making the nerd scream and writhe on the bench.

“Fucking nerds–you just can’t fucking help yourselves. An infraction this bad–you’re getting house arrest for two months, you fat fuck.”

The men dragged Simon’s fat ass back to the frat house–he was laughing and belching the whole way. He couldn’t believe he’d lost control like that, but fuck, it had just felt so fucking good! On the porch, the guards secured a shock collar around Simon’s neck and armed it–if he stepped more than ten feet out of the range of the house, he’d receive a debilitating shock and security would be alerted to his violation. Then they opened the door and shoved him inside, still laughing.

“Fuck Si, is that you?”

He looked up and saw a couple of his fellow nerds on the couch, staring at the screen, playing a video game together. “Got all the way to campus, you should’ve seen them. Shit myself on a fucking bench!” he laughed again, and started jacking off again, “Fuck, why the fuck did that feel so fucking good?”

“You shit yourself in fucking public! I bet you fucking jacked off after that,”

“Oh fuck man, I fucking did!”

Fuck man, you’re such a fucking nerd!”

“I know, right?”

“Fuck, I could shit myself right now, man,” one of the nerds said, and bore down, letting off a vile fart. Si crawled over, smelling the fumes as he jacked his own cock. He was stuck in here with these fucks for two months, but it was worth it, right? Some part of him told him this was wrong–the same part of him which tried to get him to leave the house that night, until the collar went off. It summoned security, who beat his fat ass on the lawn and threw him back in the house. There was no denying it–as far as the world was concerned he was just a fucking nasty nerd, and he’d never be anything else–best to just accept it.

The Power of Society (Part 5)

And with those two visits, Professor’s Larson study was set in motion. He returned to his home a few blocks away from campus, and spent a few hours working out his sexual energy on two of his butlers down in the dungeon. warping the minds of the young men on campus always got him…riled up. He’d wanted to abuse the men then and there, but for the purposes of his research, it was best if he retained an appearance of objectivity and distance from his latest subjects. When he was feeling better, he left the two servants to tend to one another’s wounds, dressed himself in his house leathers, and ascended to his study–where he found that the campus maintenance crew had already installed the cameras in both houses. He had live feeds in every room–some from multiple angles–to make sure he wouldn’t miss anything which might be relevant to his research program.

He took off his watch and placed it on the charging system. He’d improved the power source quite a bit over the last year, but two big groups like that in one evening had nearly drained the device dry. Since inventing it, he’d used it almost exclusively on individuals–but it was time to set his sights on…bigger targets. It was clear that belief and persuasion had social elements, but what he wanted to test, was whether fostering a set of beliefs in a social group like these two frats could instigate and force changes without his explicit direction–and without the presence of the watch. In other words, was it their own belief which changed them, or was it the direct presence of the sonic waves itself, coupled with the belief? More importantly, would the effects fade over time, without further interference from him? He was testing the very limits of his power, and observing the feeds from both houses that evening, he couldn’t have been happier with the results.

It was clear that his meetings with both houses had created two camps. First, were what he called the “early adopters”–the men who had taken to his suggestions readily, and had already begun to change by the time he’d finished. The others were all “deniers”–those who, despite believing him, still tried to insist that what he’d said wasn’t true. In both houses, the early adopters were winning handily. The nerds, with their new tendency to drag one another downward, had banded together and isolated several deniers and were busy “convincing” them of the certainty of what the professor had said. Much to his surprise, the changes forced on the deniers, as they came to believe, were as rapid and substantial as those he could cause with the watch–clearly then, it was only the subject’s belief that mattered, or perhaps merely being subjected to the sound was enough to open the capacity for these changes. Either case was troubling to him–it signaled that he might not be as in control as he thought.

The jocks had no real collective drive–rather, each individual jock was battling their own internal…monster. The early adopters gave in readily, frotting, pissing and working out mindlessly all night, while the deniers cloistered themselves away, fighting–though several found the growing orgy to tempting, and gave in before the night was through. It seemed then, that internal and external pressure had similar levels of effect on behavior. So far, his hypotheses were being confirmed. He would wait a month, and see how things developed.

After around three weeks, each house settled down into what Harold considered a new status quo. In each house, everyone had been convinced of the certainty of the professor’s beliefs. None of the “nerds” in the house weighed under 300 pounds, and several of the early adopters were closer to 600. The house was a wreck, and TV’s were in every room–some dedicated to video games, others playing a near constant stream of gay porn. The nerds largely settled down and rarely moved, aside from getting up to order more food for the house and devour what was there. That said, while they all believed what Harold wanted them to…not all of them responded in the same way. While most gave into their sloth, a small minority maintained a certain drive to escape their fate. They continued going to class, would leave the house a few times a day for fresh air, and a few even tried to maintain a bit of hygiene and self-care. He would have expected these to come from the deniers, but in fact, the six or seven who strived for more were about evenly split between the two groups.

A similar situation had developed over with the jocks next door. All of them knew, for a fact, that deep inside them resided a jock with the basest of impulses–driven only by desires for filth, sexual stimulation, and physical exertion. Unlike with the nerds, however, Harold had made no effort to keep the jocks in the house. They continued their athletic activities, though most ceased going to class, and the school saw a greater success from their teams that month. Harold attributed it to the loss of ego for the jocks in the house, coupled with an innate desire to fight and compete. But like the nerds, there were those who resisted. They would sneak showers at night, violating the professor’s rules. They continued going to class, despite the fact that their reduced mental capacities made the attempt laughable. But they pushed on all the same. The question then, was what to do about these two groups of resistors.

Of course, Harold could simply force them to obey him, but that wasn’t the point of the study, now as it? He wanted to see the power of society at work. No–he’d done enough focusing on ingroups–it was time to test something else he had been developing. He’d see how well these young men could resist, after Harold turned the rest of campus against them. All over campus, he had installed speakers which could both transmit the frequency of belief, as well as directives. He’d already tested the device before, and it had worked surprisingly well–since most men of campus now preferred to go shirtless, even in winter. He began planning his next move, and a few days later, the entire campus had a few new beliefs regarding Nerds and Jocks, which he was excited to witness for himself.

The Power of Society (Part 2)

“I can’t have this thing, I have to trim this,” Edwin was muttering to himself, “No one respects a neckbeard…”

“That is true,” Harold said, “No one would ever respect someone with something like that on their face. You know that, but you haven’t trimmed it in years. That means, you either like it, or you’re too lazy to care. I think…it’s probably both.” Ed tried to interject, but Harold kept talking over him. “You’re too lazy to care about a lot of things. Too lazy to care about haircuts or styling that mop of yours. Too lazy to care about dressing well–all you wear are t-shirts and cargo shorts–usually for weeks on end. Too lazy to care about anything beyond all that nasty gay porn you watch, at least, when you aren’t playing video games or watching stupid TV shows. Too lazy to care about your figure, since all you eat is fatty junk food all the time. That about sums it up, right, nerd? You are a dirty gay nerd, aren’t you Ed?”

The room was still, unable to believe what they’d just witnessed. The clean cut Edwin who’d been standing before them a minute before was gone, replaced by Ed. His suit was replaced by an ill fitting black tee riding up, showing off his gut where it spilled out the bottom, hanging down over his cargo shorts. His hair had grown out long, and looked as greasy and unkempt as his beard. Ed was trying to talk, trying to figure out what to say, what he could possibly say to defend himself in front of the entire house.

“Go on Ed, just admit it. We can all see what you are,” Harold said.

“I…I’m a dirty…gay nerd…” he muttered, suddenly embarrassed to be standing up in front of this many people. He hated attention, he hated being seen. He usually just spent his day holed up in his room, with his porn and video games, where he belonged.

“That’s right Ed. That’s exactly what you are. But like I said before, just because you’re a nerd, doesn’t mean you’re smart, right?”

“I mean, sure, I suppose.”

“Because you aren’t very smart, are you Ed? How could you be, when all you do all day is jack off, stuff your face with food, and play video games? You know, just like the rest of you,” Harold added, looking out at the rest of the room. That was enough for a couple of them scattered around to shift, their clothes morphing into equally filthy versions of Ed’s, beards and hair exploding out, as their waistlines did as well. Most of the young men, however, had enough sense to resist a bit, as Harold had expected. “That’s not me. I’m not like that,” one of them said, and several others voiced their agreement. “We’re going places. Ed’s just a fucking loser. None of us want to be like him.”

“But he’s your fraternity president, isn’t he? Why would you elect someone like him to represent him, if you don’t consider him to be representative of your entire house?” A few others lost it, shifting along, gazing down, confused at their new bodies, unable to believe what had happened, unable to remember themselves being anything other than fat, dirty slobs. “In fact–he’s probably the most well adjusted among you, right? The only one of you with any sort of charisma, to be willing to step up and lead a group of outcasts, loners, and losers like you all are. You should all be thanking him, I think.” That was enough to affect them all, at least a little. Only three or four had gone as far as Ed, but there wasn’t a single young man left in the room without stubble, or a potbelly, or wearing anything nice. “Still, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by your denial–none of you really want to believe that you’re as bad as Ed here. You’re all scared of embracing yourselves, but deep down, you all know the truth, even if you refuse to admit it right now. But more than that, you hate the idea of any one of you rising up and being better than the rest of you, don’t you? That’s why you spend so much time ridiculing one another, dragging each other through the dirt, and…reinforcing each other’s worst instincts.”

“I don’t…know what you mean,” one of them said.

“That’s why you all force each other to watch porn together, masturbating on one another, coating each other’s clothes in your cum. That’s why you tie each other down and force feed each other until you can’t eat another bite. That’s why you broke all the washers and dryers down in the basement. Because if even one of you is exceptional, then that means that the rest of you all are nothing but complete losers. But if you all fail, then there’s nothing you could have done right? You don’t have to feel any shame about the way you want to live your lives.”

Harold could see the suspicion in each of their eyes, as they looked about at one another–the one’s further gone particularly eyeing the one’s who had so far managed to better resist the professor’s persuasions. “Now, I think I’ll take my leave. A work crew will come in soon to install cameras throughout the house, but none of you will even notice, or behave like you’re being watched. You will forget the details of this meeting, but remain convinced of the truths we’ve uncovered together. That all of you are dirty, faggot nerds–even if some of you won’t admit it–and if even one of you succeeds, then the others will all know nothing but shame for the rest of their lives. Alright–now, I have another meeting I must get to, but the lot of you can entertain yourselves, I imagine. Have a good evening!”

Harold left the house, leaving the frat to itself. Most of the young men retreated to their rooms, trying to deny their new beliefs, but finding them already rooted deep in their cores. Later that evening, Ed and another neckbeard dragged Louis, who had remained thin through the professor’s lecture, down to the kitchen, tied him to the table and force fed him for hours, until he was close to 400 pounds. Others pinned their housemates, who were struggling to study and resist their new desires, to the couch while they played porn, jacking off in their hair and on their clothes until they, too, no longer wanted to stop. In all, a wonderful success for the professor’s latest experiment on campus, he thought, as he headed next door, to Alpha Phi Delta for his second meeting of the evening.

The Power of Society (Part 1)

Some of you may have guessed from the title, but this story takes place in the same narrative as “The Power of Belief” (which you can find here in the archive) and “The Power of Reality” (which is only on Patreon). It might be more accurate to call this a long sketch, because there’s a lot more detail that could be paid to the story that follows, but I like this version enough I wanted to post it. You don’t *need” to have read “The Power of Reality” to know what happens here, because the events that follow actually happen prior to most of the events in that story. In fact, “The Power of Reality”, as posted, is actually two separate chunks of the story– “The Power of Persuasion” and then “The Power of Reality”, and what follows happens in between those two chunks. This has probably only confused most of you further.

Here’s a basic rundown. Professor Harold Larson had a student who manipulated him into becoming an old, sadistic top using a special sonic device. The Professor took control of the device, and has developed a watch that allows him to manipulate reality, provided he’s…convincing enough, which he generally is. What follows is an experiment the professor conducts on campus one fall, before the final events of the story.

“Hello everyone,” the older, portly fellow said, to the students sitting around the living room, “I know that the first week of class can be a bit hectic, especially for young men like yourself so dedicated to academic excellence, but I wanted to call this mandatory house meeting so I could take a moment and introduce myself. I’m Dr. Harold Larson, a professor here on campus, and I’m going to be assisting the Dean of students this academic year by overseeing a couple of the fraternities on campus.”

The young men of Sigma Mu Tau looked from one to another, a little confused. Their fraternity was composed entirely of upperclassmen, and membership was only allowed to those students who were in the top five percent of their classes. To say that they were academically focused would be a bit of an understatement–Sigma Mu Tau had fostered future presidents, fortune 500 businessmen, nobel prize winners–why their prestigious fraternity would need supervision from the dean’s office didn’t make much sense to any of them. Edwin Foster–the president of the fraternity–spoke, “I just met with the dean yesterday, and he didn’t mention any of this to me. Why are we being supervised?”

Harold chuckled, “Well, I only just made my request to the dean this morning, but I can assure you he is completely on board with my request. Perhaps I should try and be a bit more precise. I’m a professor of psychology, and I requested permission to supervise two fraternities on campus for an experiment of mine, and–”

“An experiment? Don’t you need our consent first?”

“True,” Harold said, and adjusted his glasses, and adjusted the watch on his wrist. “I’m certain all of you will willingly consent to the furtherance of knowledge, correct? You don’t want to be bored with the details.”

The young man who’d spoke wanted to object, but he wasn’t quite sure…why he would. The professor’s words made perfect sense to him–and everyone else in the room. They all nodded their assent, and Harold beamed at them all. “Excellent. I knew I could count on some smart nerds like yourself to understand.”

“Excuse me, but that’s kind of insulting, isn’t it?” Edwin said, “Just because we’re intelligent doesn’t mean that we’re nerds. That’s part of the reason this fraternity exists, is to provide a place for men of intellect to gather and further civilization.”

“Ah, but don’t you have that backwards, Edwin? May I call you Ed?”

“No, you may not.”

“Oh, but you much prefer being called Ed, don’t you? Doesn’t Edwin just sound so…stodgy, and uptight?”

“I mean…” Edwin paused, trying to understand why he found the professor so agreeable. He’d always hated anyone shortening his name, hadn’t he?”

“Come on up here, Ed.”

The young man stood, and approached the front of the room, where the professor was standing and addressing the house.

“Now, what I meant, when I said that you had that backwards, was that what you meant to say, surely, was that just because you’re all nerds, doesn’t mean that you’re smart, right?”

“I can…assure you that’s not what I meant at all.”

“Oh, but let’s use you as an example, Ed.” Harold looked the young man up and down a bit, before saying anything else. He was a senior this year, pursuing a degree in economics. Edwin was well meticulous in his appearance, with his hair well styled at all times, dressed even now in a suit–though he’d allowed himself the liberty of taking off his tie in the house, around his friends and associates of the house. His summer had been spent in DC, interning with a lobbying firm, and there was chatter around campus he was thinking of running for his home state’s congress once he graduated in the spring. “Now, I’d say you’re a nerd, wouldn’t you, Ed?”

“I can assure you that I am not a nerd.” The men in the room chuckled, though it was a bit…strained. The meeting was taking a strange turn, and none of them were quite sure what to make of this shift.

They saw Harold fiddle with his watch again, and throw his arm around Edwin’s shoulders, putting the timepiece near his ear. A few observant members of the house saw their president’s eyes look puzzled a moment, and then relax. Others became dimly aware of a buzzing noise in the air, but forgot to remain focused on it for long. “Why don’t we start by talking about what a nerd is Ed. Nerds are…socially awkward right? They spend a lot of time alone, they don’t really know how to deal with people all that well. They mostly like spending time on their computers, and watching TV. What do you think they watch, Ed?”

“I…I don’t know. They…probably play video games, and watch anime, or whatever…”

“That, but I think they also look at a lot of porn, just like you do, Ed.”

Ed, of course, thought pornography was an utter waste of time, and never watched it. However, at the professor’s suggestion, he found his mind…filling in facts to back up the insinuation. “I…No…I don’t.”

“We can come back to that,” the professor said, “Nerds also don’t take very good care of themselves, right? Rarely taking showers, almost never doing laundry, wearing the same comfortable, casual clothes for days on end, not even noticing when they start to stink. They don’t shave either–most proper nerds have long, thick, busy neckbeards like yours.”

Everyone in the room watched the hair spring from Edwin’s smooth face. By the time his hand had gone up to find the beard there, it was long enough to reach his chest, and looked like it hadn’t been trimmed or cared for much in the years it must have taken to grow it. Even though everyone had just witnessed the beard growing…none of them could quite recall every seeing Ed without it. “How…I didn’t have this…a second ago, did I?”

“Of course you did, Ed.” Harold said, and looked out to see how the frat was reacting. Most were staring at Edwin in shock, but a few of them stirred in their seats, eyeing the exit. “All of you find this very fascinating, don’t you?” he said to the room, “None of you would dare leave when you could watch this instead.” The room settled down, and he turned back to Edwin. “Now, where were we?”