Tag: smoke

My Town (Part 2)

Edwin took good care of himself, and was in fine shape for a man nearing sixty, but he was someone who had always considered a proper, masculine, appearance to be the most important quality a man could possess. He was dressed in his usual Saturday attire–a bit dressed down from his usual suit and tie for the weekdays. Clean shaven, hair maneuvered into position over his receding hairline, sweating slightly from the hot day outside. He loosened his tie and shut the door, walked into the house and noticed the furniture had shifted, and that a relative stranger was sitting in his chair, facing him, smoking a cigar.

“Who the fricken–” he said, and then looked a bit closer. It had been a long time, but the resemblance was there. “Todd?”

“Hey dad. How have things been?”

It didn’t…quite sound like Todd, though. In particular, that lisp was gone. Edwin had always hated the sound of his youngest boy’s voice, it had always given away the little faggot’s weakness, and it had implied weakness in Edwin as well. He’d never really cared who the boy wanted to fuck, but his sissy ways had undermined the family, in Edwin’s mind. He’d been happy to see the boy leave, and was pleased that the time away had apparently helped him man up somewhat. In fact, Todd looked…good. Healthy, clothes on his back, didn’t seem to be drugged out. “Son, I…wish you’d called, and told me you were coming.”

“And spoil the surprise?” Todd grinned around his cigar, and with one gloved hand, beckoned his father over to him. “Come on daddy, let your boy get a good look at you.”

Something in his son’s tone set Edwin’s hair on edge, but he walked over anyway, eyes locked on the gloved finger drawing him in. He could almost hear the slight squeak of the leather as he drew closer. He intended to stop a few feet away, but his feet kept walking him right up in front of his son in the chair, until the finger stopped moving. Before he could move away, his son’s other hand reached out and stroked the side of his thigh, and Edwin…shivered. It had felt wrong, being touched by that glove, but why? The hand took his own, and the feel of the leather against his fingers, it was so supple. He barely heard his son’s voice speaking to him.

“Go on daddy, drop those pants, and take off that shirt.”

Edwin did has Todd told asked, and when the leather glove brushed it’s way down his bare thigh, he realized why it had felt so wrong. It was because he’d had clothes on, of course. The leather…it felt so good on his bare skin, better than anything he’d ever felt. Todd kept stroking his father’s thighs and small gut, listening to him mutter and sigh as he undressed, until he was naked in front of him. “Looking as good as ever, Daddy–but looking good is all that ever really mattered to you, right? That, and always making sure you kept proper company.”

Edwin knew this wasn’t right, that he shouldn’t be naked like this in front of his son–especially not his faggot son–but everytime one of those gloved hands ran down his thigh or stomach, he lost a little more will to care–he just wanted to be touched. Todd tugged down on his father’s hand, and watched him wobble, and then sink to his knees in front of him. Lightly, he caressed his face with both gloved hands, watching his jaw go slack. “That’s good, daddy, that’s very good. Now, I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, and I want to see your real face around my cock first. Then we’re going out tonight, and we’ll see what sort of company you keep from now on, daddy.”

Todd unzipped the fly of his jeans with one hand, and pulled his cock free, shuddering as he did when the leather touched flesh. Helplessly, he watched his hand stroke his own cock, beyond his control, the shaft lengthening and thickening from a modest four inches to seven. Then, he took his father’s head in his hands, and pushed the dribbling head to his lips, Edwin happily accepting it, so long as the lovely leather remained against his skin a while longer. Todd took a long drag off his cigar, and released a thick cloud of smoke over his father’s head, making him cough. Edwin had always hated smoke, but he fought through it, eyes burning slightly, because the gloves wanted him to. Because Todd wanted him to. Todd pushed his father’s mouth off his cock, holding him in place with both hands, took another draw off the cigar and locked lips with him, pushing smoke deep into his father’s lungs, making him hold it until he coughed and gagged–then he rammed his cock back into his mouth and fucked his face roughly for a few minutes, barely giving him space to breathe.

“That’s right you fucker–your boy’s back in fucking town. Is this man enough for you, daddy? Is this man enough for you yet? Because trust me, I’m going to be more man than this little fucking town can handle soon enough, just you fucking wait and see.”

The gloves, he could feel them fighting him, and one peeled away from his father’s head and dragged his hand back towards Todd’s body, hauling up his shirt and grabbing his nipples, twisting and pulling at them. Todd groaned, feeling them grow larger and fuller the more the glove played with them, and with a sharp pain, he looked down and saw metal piercings had appeared in both of them. Apparently satisfied, the glove allowed his hand to return to Edwin, stroking his smooth cheek, feeling a thin layer of stubble grow under his fingers. There would be more of that, soon enough, Todd thought, thinking of his plans, of the plans of his gloves, and he filled his father’s mouth with a massive load, listening to him choke it down like the good whore he was going to be soon enough.

My Town (Part 1)

If you had asked Todd, when he was first wrestling with his desires, which possibility he thought was worse–being gay, or having everyone think you were gay–he would have said the latter. Being gay was only secondary to the fact that, in the mind of the small town where he grew up, he checked all of the gay boxes. Short and lithe, high voice with a slight lisp, pale skin and thick lips–he was a faggot to the world regardless of who he wanted to fuck. For better or worse, he happened to like dick on top of that. His father essentially disowned him, his older brother, Kyle, and his friends tormented him at school, and shortly after his sixteenth birthday, he’d stolen 200 dollars from his father’s wallet and run away to the closest city, imagining it had to be better than this dump. No one cared that he had gone, and no one cared to know what had happened to him. What mattered most, was that he wasn’t there anymore–the town had done its job, and had preserved itself. Within the year, he was forgotten by most, and the few who did remember him–particularly his father and brother–saw no reason to ever discuss him again. As far as they were concerned, he might as well be dead, and so they carried on.   

It was eight years later, on a sunny Saturday morning in late April, that a greyhound pulled into the depot off main street one morning, and one person got off, carrying no baggage, just the clothes on his back. No one recognized Todd. The gangly young boy had grown taller, but stayed thin, the hair he’d always kept long was shaved close to his scalp, he had blond scruff on his chin and cheeks. To this day, no one in town knows where Todd had lived or what he had done to survive for those years he was away. They did know why he came back, in the end. Todd had a few scores to settle, both with his family and the town that had failed him, and he’d decided it was time to collect.

He cracked the knuckles of both hands, the leather gloves he was wearing flexing as he did, reached into a pocket and pulled out a cigar. As he walked down the street he lit it, smoking it slowly as he walked down the familiar road, seeing which shops had closed, and which were still there. Like many towns, the years had hollowed it out–all of the young blood which could leave, had–just like Todd–though most had gone to college and simply never returned. Those who remained were invested in this place, in an imagined purity of it. It was a place Todd would have never been allowed to survive, but it could change. It would change. He would change it.

No one recognized him, and he no longer looked to be out of place, beyond his status as a stranger in a closeknit community. People passing him by assumed he was one of many young men who tended to arrive during the Spring and Summer for seasonal work up in the nearby mountains, either planting trees, or cutting them down. He cut down a sidestreet, headed for his father’s house. He’d placed a call there the week before, while he was planning his return, just to make sure they hadn’t moved, and of course they hadn’t. His father wasn’t going to be pried from his house until he was dead–it wasn’t a slight, that was something he had said on any number of occasions. He loved his house and he loved this town, and everyone knew him by name–Mr. Edwin Lobart–it was a shame, to Todd, that he’d never loved his family the same way.

He gave a rough knock on the front door, but as he’d expected no one was home. His brother had gotten married a few years back to some woman he’d known in high school–Todd hadn’t been invited, of course, but he’d observed it from afar on facebook. His father was rarely home on Saturdays–he was at the farmer’s market, manning the city table as a councilman, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, his eye on the mayoral race this coming fall. He’d likely be home in early afternoon, but Todd could wait. It would give him a moment to take a look around.

Little had changed since he’d left. In fact, he was surprised by just how little had changed. He felt like an entirely different person, and simply being in this space was like a haunting of some past he’d outgrown long before. Everything was smaller than he remembered, when the whole world had seemed to loom over him. Upstairs, his room was storage now–his old things and other detritus stored away in boxes, the furniture long since sold off at garage sales. He ran his gloved hands over the dusty surface, and then wiped them off on the curtain before leaving the room. He found a bowl in the kitchen to use as an ashtray, and knocked off a sizable cinder. Back in the den, he grabbed hold of his father’s recliner–still the same old sunken La-Z-Boy after all of these years–and spun it around, away from the TV and towards the front door. He pulled a side table with the bowl beside him, and kept smoking, one leg over the other, booted foot swinging, relaxing and waiting for the sound of a key in the door, which would announce his father’s return home.

It was an hour and a half later, with Todd halfway through his second cigar, bored and groping himself, that he heard the click. He leaned back, one gloved hand still on his crotch, feeling how excited his hands had become–or his gloves, really. The material had tightened against his hands, and was shivering slightly. They could feel their Master’s excitement as well. The door opened and Edwin stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and then noticed the furniture had been rearranged, and a relative stranger was sitting in his chair, smoking a cigar.

Emptied Out (Part 8)

***Three weeks later***

Leonard drove the rusted out pickup truck he’d been forced to trade his Tesla in for, by his fucking boy, into the dilapidated apartment complex. “This is the place?” he asked, “This is where my son is?”

Greg, sitting in the passenger seat beside him nodded. “Yep–I’m true to my word. You’ve done so good for me daddy, doing everything I asked, just so you’d have a chance to see him again.”

Leonard scowled at him–it wasn’t like he’d had much of a choice in any of it. He’d arrived at the college to pick up his son for the summer, and this fucker had been waiting for him, and…and Leonard didn’t know what he’d done to him, but these last three weeks, he’d turned his life upside down. Quit his job, sold his car, started dressing like some hillbilly redneck, drinking cheap whiskey, smoking cigars–usually with a lip full of dip too. He felt like a fucking freak…but if it meant getting him and his son out of this crazy fucker’s grasp, then yeah, he’d put up with it. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t get all of it back soon enough, once he got a chance to call the cops on this faggot. He just wished he could explain why in the hell he couldn’t seem to disobey any of the freaks orders–that, and why he seemed to be remembering less and less of his time with him. He would blank out for hours, and every time he came back and realized it, Greg would be standing there, staring at him with that dumb grin on his face–a dumb grin that seemed a little too clever.

They crossed the complex and made their way to an apartment on the ground floor. Greg didn’t knock, he just pulled his keys out from his pocket (it was a ring with a substantial number of keys, Leonard noticed) unlocked the door, and stepped inside. “Daddy Biff? Where are ya, you fuckin’ nasty pervert?”

The stench made Leonard’s eyes sting, and he gagged. It was horrid–who in the world could live like this, and what was his son doing in a place this filthy? He pushed in after his boy, and Greg shut the door behind him. It was dark, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he did eventually see the massively obese man, Biff he assumed, sprayed out on a couch in front of a TV showing some of the filthiest porn Leonard had ever seen.

“Hot damn, Master, made yerself a handsome one this time. Hope he gets tah hang out here on occasion, wouldn’t mind feelin’ that big beard round my cock, or rubbin’ against my hole,” Biff said, blowing a cloud of smoke in Leonard’s direction.

“We’ll have to see, Biff. Is he back in the bedroom?”

Biff nodded, “Just like ya asked. He’s pretty eager, and bored.”

Greg led the way down a short hallway, and Leonard could hear Biff resume masturbating as they left, moaning and belching as he did. “What the fuck is my son doing here, you fucker?” Leonard said in a hushed voice, “If that pervert laid a hand on Nathan, I’ll make sure you never see daylight again.”

Greg didn’t reply, he just got to the end of the hall, where the door was shut, turned and looked at Leonard. “Alright, your son is through this door. But, before you meet him, I think it’s time we introduce you two.”

“I think I know my own son.”

Greg laughed, “Oh no, you’ll get introduced to him in a moment–no, Leonard, I think it’s time you officially met Leo.”

It was like a curtain had been lifted, one he hadn’t even known was there all this time. The lost memories came back to him, and Leonard realized why he hadn’t had them–it was because they weren’t his at all. They were Leo’s. Leo, the man this fucking boy had been…building in his mind, all this time, and he hadn’t noticed any of it for a second. “Fuck son, ‘bout Gawd damn time ya let me out fer some damn air!”

It was his voice, but it wasn’t. He didn’t have that drawl, he didn’t…want to say that. He’d felt his lips move, and his lungs push air out, but those were Leo’s words, not his. “What…what the fuck did you do to me?”

Greg just smiled at him, “I made myself a new daddy, Leonard–a much better daddy that you could be. Still, there wasn’t enough room for both of you in that head there, so I’m afraid I had to move you, Leonard. You know where you are, right Leo?”

“Sure do, Master!” Leo said in his thick drawl, one hand pointing to his head, “I’m up here, in the brains!”

Greg nodded, “And you know where I had to put you, don’t you Leonard?”

Leonard knew it wasn’t true. It didn’t make sense, it had to be a delusion…but he nodded, gulped, and said, “In…in my balls.”

“And you know why you’ve been having a hard time remembering things, Leonard?”

“B-Because every time we shoot…some of me gets…lost…”

Leo groped himself through his crusty jeans, “Hell yeah, been gettin’ rid a ya seven ’r eight times a day! Master says yer about all dried up now–gonna get a brand new cock ‘n balls once we’re all through wit’ ya.”

Greg nodded. “But I wanted your last to be special, Leonard–some father and son bonding. Here, let’s get that second introduction underway.”

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.

Emptied Out (Part 4)

Nathan woke up to something being thrown in his face–something that reeked. He pushed it away with a gag, and found the passenger side door open, and Biff standing there. The things he’d given him were clothes–or rather, just a pair of underwear. A set of briefs, heavily stained in the front and the back. “Put ‘em on boy, ‘n let’s git ya inside.”

“I’m not wearing these,” he said, holding them away from him.

“All I got boy–’n if ya don’t wanna wear ‘em, ya’ll just have tah cross the complex ass out.”

“Fuck, give me a fag,” Nathan said, irritated, “I need a smoke to think.”

“Put the briefs on, and I’ll let you light up.”

Nathan growled in frustration, swung his legs out, and struggled into the briefs. They were tight on him–clearly they were Biff’s, but he wore a size larger than daddy did at this point. Nathan shook his head, pushing the memory away. It wasn’t his bulk, this wasn’t real. He stood up, feeling the whities riding up his sweaty asscrack. He considered making a break for it, but he had no idea where he was, and a morbidly obese man running around in his underwear wasn’t going to make him any friends here. He took the fag Biff gave him, relieved for smoke, and was thinking clearer when they got to his tiny, filthy apartment–and the stench of the briefs was nothing compared to the smell inside.

There were pizza boxes and fast food bags littered everywhere, and nothing looked like it had been cleaned in ages. Furniture was minimal, with most of the space dedicated to a couch and a large TV, with a computer off to the side–hopefully with an internet connection. It would be his best chance to get help, probably, unless he could get to a phone. Biff tore the rest of the rags off of him, leaving him in just the loaned whities, his massive gut hanging out now with no obstruction.

“Git in the bathroom, boy, that mop has gotta go.”

“What?” Nathan asked.

“The hair, son. Don’t ya want a good buzz like yer daddy?” Biff said, running a hand over his head. “Ya will soon enough, so let’s git ya buzzed–or else no fags, and no soda, either.”

Thinking about the soda made his gut growl. How could he possibly still be hungry after everything he’d eaten today? Still, his gut wasn’t lying, and his fag was already half gone. It was just hair–best to cooperate for now, and see if he got an opportunity to use the computer later.

The bathroom was somehow even dirtier than the rest of the apartment. Biff told him to stand in the shower, and from the layer of fine hair coating the tub, it was clear it hadn’t been used for a proper shower in quite a while. Biff grabbed the clippers by the sink, and started attacking Nathan’s hair–the blades hadn’t been oiled in a while, making them hot to the touch, and they kept pulling at his hair, but before long Biff had his hair razored down to nothing, just a layer of fuzz. He ran his hand over Nathan’s head, and saw the boy shiver in the whities he was wearing.

“Feel good, boy?”

“Y-yeah, it kind of does…”

“Yeah, ain’t nothin’ quite like a freshly buzzed head,” Biff said, rubbing it slowly, standing closer to him so their bellies pressed together. Nathan had expected it to feel disgusting, but it was comfortable, and…familiar somehow. “Lookin’ real good Nate, gotta say–real happy with ya so far.”

“My name isn’t Nate, don’t call me that.”

“Best just get used to it boy–ya ain’t gonna be gettin’ away from me, not now.” He took a drag off his cigarette, leaned in and fed Nathan his smoke, and the two of them passing it back and forth a few times, until Nathan got a bit lightheaded, feeling his cock pressing hard against his gut. Biff stepped into the tub with him, pushing more of his fat against him, and pinning him to the wall, one hand holding his cigarette, taking long drags of smoke to feed Nathan, his other hand reaching under his boy’s huge gut and rubbing his cock through his crusty whities. Nathan was trying to keep himself calm, but everytime he started to push away, Biff would shove him back, and rub his hand over his shaved skull, making him shiver and buck against his hand. “Go on boy, do it,” Biff whispered to him, “Shoot a big load right intah yer daddy’s filthy whities, I wanna see how wet ya can get em, ya fat fuckin’ pig.”

None of that should have made him horny, but Nathan lost control, rutting harder against Biff’s hand, feeling himself fast approaching the point of no return. The cum spilled out of him, and he felt the comfortable blankness washing back over him, Biff plucking the cigarette from between his sagging lips before it fell onto their guts and burned them.

“Yeah, such a good boy for daddy, Nate–we’re gonna have you all empty here soon, don’t you worry about a thing. Now come on, I wanna show ya the thing ya love tah do most in the world with daddy, even more than smokin’ fags ‘n stuffin’ that pig face a yers.”

Emptied Out (Part 3)

“Hot smoker, just like yer daddy,” Biff said, and pushed some smoke in Nathan’s direction. It…smelled different, coming from him. Hotter, somehow, and he blew some of it back, his hand slipping back down to his crotch, thinking about how horny he always got, trading smoke with his daddy like a couple of perverts. Biff noticed, but didn’t say anything, just kept pushing smoke in his direction, watching Nathan slowly lose focus, groping himself more and more, his hand slipping into his still damp khakis to stroke himself properly. He finished his second cigarette, and came back to himself for a bit, pulling his hand away, but he only lasted half an hour before asking daddy for another.

“Sorry boy. Ya want another cigarette from me, you’re gonna have to shoot a load. That, or ya gotta give me some good road head.”

The idea of getting anywhere near Biff’s cock horrified him, and he wasn’t about to jack off again…but he needed a cigarette. Biff kept pushing smoke in his direction, and it was maddening, and hot and sexy, and his hand slipped back down. What harm was there in…one little cum shot? It wasn’t so bad, right? Biff kept sending him smoke, and watched him give in, stroking faster now, until after a couple of minutes he shot again, and just like before, Nathan went slack, eyes glazed over and mouth hanging open.

“Emptied yerself out again, Nate?”

“Yes daddy…” he muttered.

Biff took the next exit off the highway into a small town, “Good, I was gettin’ hungry. Let’s get us both filled back up, eh?”

There was a fast food joint right by the off ramp, and he pulled into the drive through, and the guy taking the order thought it was a joke at first, Biff ordered so much food. It took a little while to get everything, but before too long, they were parked, with bags and bags of burgers and fries–with plenty of soda to wash it down. Biff pulled out a burger and put it to Nate’s mouth. “Go on Nate–feed that big ol’ gut a yers.” Nate mindlessly took a bite, chewing slowly and swallowing. Biff grabbed one of his slack hands and put it on the burger to hold it. “Faster boy. Ya eat like a fuckin’ pig. Don’t care how messy ya get, ya just need it in ya.”

Nate started eating faster now, and Biff kept encouraging him, reminding him to take plenty of drinks of soda–after all, he loved soft drinks, and anything sweet. He was hungry, always hungry, even hungrier than his dad, usually. Hell, he was fatter than his dad was even–he could remember how proud he was the day his gut sagged down even lower than his dad’s did, couldn’t he? Nate kept trying to agree, but his mouth was too busy shoveling in food for any of it to be intelligible. He ate and ate, his gut expanding at a rapid pace as he did, the buttons on his shirt popping off one by one, the undershirt riding up as his gut dropped between his thighs, his pants stretched to the limit as he grew larger and larger. He became more animated, slowly, Nathan coming back to the fore as he filled himself back up, but he didn’t stop eating–he couldn’t stop eating, sucking down his soda, and sucking down on his cigarette, of course. He was such a good son, cumming for his daddy, and now he got his reward–another smoke, and a massive fast food meal to boot! It wasn’t until he finished most of the food off–his dad having eaten a sizable portion as well, that he leaned back, let off a belch, and realized just how much bigger he’d become–and realized that they’d stopped moving.

Nathan fumbled with the door handle, and nearly fell out of the van. As he did, he felt a massive shudder in his fat as his khakis, and underwear, finally burst from the pressure, and he was left standing in the parking lot, in full view of the people in the restaurant, naked from the waist down, a massive, hairy apron hanging free…and he didn’t know what to do. He needed to get help, but not like this. He couldn’t possibly let anyone see him like this!

“Son, git yer fat ass back in the damn van!” Biff shouted at him, and Nathan struggled to resist.

“You…you aren’t my dad! This…this can’t be real, I’m just imagining this. I can’t…actually be this big,” he muttered, hefting his gut and letting it fall, feeling it thwack against his thick thighs. “I mean…I eat lots, but…but not like this.”

“Boy, git back in the van.”

“No. No, I’m not…going anywhere else with you.”

Biff sighed, “Boy, git back in the van, and we’ll go ‘round again ‘n git ya some shakes. Ya are still hungry, ain’t ya? One a every flavor–enough tah git ya home.”

HIs gut rumbled like an earthquake, and his mouth watered, thinking about it. Fuck, he was…hungry. So hungry, even though he’d just eaten so much food, he could barely believe it was still inside him. “But…but I…”

“Son, what ya think’s gonna happen when those folk call the cops on ya? Think Master’s gonna be happy when he’s gotta bail yer fat ass outta jail? Probably just leave ya in there with ‘em, ‘n make ya some jailbitch. Now git in the car, ‘n let’s git dessert.”

He was right–there was nothing he could do looking like this–without even any clothes to wear. That…and dessert sounded really damn good. He got back in, surprised by how hard it was maneuvering his huge bulk, and Biff drove him back through, ordering a shake in every flavor as promised–twelve in total–and then headed back for the highway while Nathan sucked down shake after shake, and cigarette after cigarette to go with them. He managed well enough for the rest of the ride at least–though Biff kept ripping off the worst farts Nathan had ever smelled in his life, laughing after every one he made, and refusing to roll the windows down. Thankfully the food made him sleepy, and  not too long after finishing the last shake, he passed out for a while, snoring and belching away, Biff reaching over to grope his boy’s massive fat belly occasionally, and then drove into the city, arriving at the small apartment complex where he lived not too long after that, in the evening.

Emptied Out (Part 2)

“Yes daddy,” Nathan said, and Biff put the cigarette between his lips for him, Nathan holding it and smoking it while Biff lit a second one for himself.

“That’s good boy, breathe it in deep, just like I taught ya years ago. Two packs a day, just like yer dad, getting those teeth of yers good ‘n yellow. Yau reek a smoke all the time, and ya love it–makes ya horny as hell, right son?”

Nathan nodded, and kept smoking–and as he did, Greg noticed a few things change about him. For one, the stench of smoke surrounded him, like it did Greg, and he noticed that his teeth, and his fingers, were tinged yellow, just like they would be for a man who’d been smoking for ages. “Lookin’ good Daddy, now finish ‘em up.”

Biff nodded, “Alright boy, keep breathing in all that smoke, and after your next inhale, you’re going to feel completely full again, got it?”

Nate nodded slowly, took a deep breath, and as he did, his eyes refocused, and Nathan came back to himself, exhaled and coughed, unable to understand why he was smoking a cigarette. “What…what the fuck did you do to me?” he said to Greg.

“Well, everytime you cum now, Nathan, you’re going to shoot out a big chunk of yourself–of this self, all that brain and will and memories of being an uptight little prick–and your daddy here is going to get to fill you back up with much, much better stuff–anything he wants, in fact. After five or six loads, you won’t even exist anymore–you’ll just be Nate, and Nate is going to be everything Biff here could want in a nasty, perverse, disgusting pigson in the whole world. How’s that fag taste, anyway?”

Nathan looked down at the cigarette between his fingers, and realized he’d been smoking it this whole time like it was the most natural thing in the world. “No–no, I’m not a smoker, I…” Nathan said, but as he did, it felt wrong. He was a smoker. He fucking loved to smoke, and he…he loved his daddy’s smoke most of all. He looked over at Biff, and before, where he’d seen a complete stranger, he now felt an odd…affinity, or attraction. Definitely an attraction. Looking at him, smoking that unfiltered cigarette, he just wanted to kiss him and suck that smoke right from his lungs…he shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts, but he didn’t know where his real self ended and this new, alien person began. “You can’t do this–you fucking can’t make this happen.”

“Oh, I’m very capable, Nathan, trust me,” Greg said, “But all you have to do is not cum anymore, and there’s nothing I can do–think you can control yourself around your new daddy? Now, why don’t you two head home? I’ll come check on you in a couple of weeks, and if there’s any trace of you left, Nathan, then I’ll fix you right back–I promise. Still, I bet Biff will have you all gone here in a day, and all that’ll be left is his good son Nate.”

Nathan didn’t know how to process any of that, and just looked back and forth, cigarette hanging from his lips, wondering when they would let him in on the joke, but the punchline never came. Biff just ordered him into the van waiting outside, and Nathan’s feet marched him out to it and into the passenger seat, while Biff shared a passionate kiss with Greg on the steps, thanked his boy and master again for the privilege of raising and owning a son of his own, before getting in the driver seat and heading off, getting on the highway and heading for the city about five hours away.

The whole time, Nathan kept smoking. He’d never smoked a cigarette in his life, but every time he took it out and tried to resist inhaling from it, his brain would start screaming, and wouldn’t stop until he took another drag. He finished it in a few minutes, the air on the van cloudy and thick from them hotboxing–and he was forced to ask Biff, his daddy, for another cigarette, though he insisted he call it a fag, before Biff would give him another one, and a lighter to use.

Nathan smoked that one slower, and with the addiction satisfied, he sized up the man who had essentially kidnapped him, and wondered how he might try and escape. It was clear that Greg had some control over him, but Greg wasn’t here–that meant if he could be clever enough, he might be able to get away and get help. Certainly Biff wasn’t in any shape to fight him–he was…huge. He had to be close to 400 pounds, with a massive apron of fat hanging out the bottom of the filthy wifebeater he was wearing, stained with ash and who knew what else. He was hairy, and stank, and looked like this was the first time he’d been outside in ages. Nathan noticed, after he’d been staring at him for a few minutes, that his hand was in his crotch, groping his cock, and he tore his hand away, horrified that looking at this disgusting man was making him horny.

Biff noticed, and grinned around his cigarette. “Go ahead boy–it’s healthy fer a perverted boy like ya are tah jack off lookin’ at yer daddy.”

He felt his hand drawn back to his crotch, but he resisted the urge–while Biff had some power over him, it wasn’t nearly as urgent as Greg’s control had been earlier. He could beat this, if he kept his head about him. He didn’t reply, and averted his eyes, trying to focus on nothing in particular, and he ended up thinking about his cigarette, and how…good it tasted. He pushed out a couple of thick plumes from his nose, like Biff had earlier, and felt that horny twinge return again.

I’ll Change for You (Part 9)

It was only half an hour or so, but it felt like an eternity. When the door to the bedroom next opened, the butler was there, now naked and wearing a set of leather manacles, and Burt entered the room, clad head to toe in a perfectly tailored leather suit, gloves and hat–though it was distinctly crotchless, allowing his massive, ten inch cock to hang free. “Now boy, why don’t the two of us pick up where we left off?”

Herman got on his knees before the dean, before his…Master, at least for the night, and sucked his cock, and once again, like before, Burt could feel the arousal welling up inside him, the pendant he had on under the leather shirt almost hot against his skin. But there was no fantasy running through his mind, not this time. Instead, everything around him became more and more vivid, every flick of Herman’s tongue across the head of his cock sending shivers running through his gut, massive thighs, and second and third chins. He knew what he wanted. He knew what they both needed.

“On the bed boy–that’s enough sucking. Daddy wants to see how his new boy’s hole feels.”

Herman was all too eager. Despite the pain in his gut, he got up and laid on his back, as Burt ordered him to do, legs in the air. Burt got up as well, pushed his legs back, and slowly slid the head of his cock into Herman’s ass. It was larger than anything he’d ever taken before, but somehow it slid right into him like it belonged there–because in Burt’s mind, it did. But it more than belonged in there, Burt could…see Herman now, the true version of him, at least a hundred pounds heavier than he was now, clean shaven from face to toe, his boy cock caged up, looking at his daddy while he fucked him with desperate desire…but beyond lust, he felt…love.

Love. A deep, unrelenting affection. This was more than he had with Jules, Jules was a meer mirage of this. No–he loved this boy. Loved him to the ends of the earth, loved him so dearly he would do anything for him, be anyone his boy desired him to be. And if his lovely, lovely boy desired nothing more than he be a short, obese, pipe smoking daddy bear with a ten inch cock, mercilessly ramming it deep into his ass while he cried out for more, and more, and more–well, then Burt was going to give it to him. He was going to give this boy everything he’d ever desired.

He came. He came, and he saw the shape of the boy’s moans resting in the air, he heard the color of his smooth skin, he felt their wills bending together, their fates melding into some singular strain of life. He felt a yes–a grand, all abiding yes resonating in their bones, tuned together as his boy came as well, a massive volley of cum erupting from his caged cock and up onto his heaving belly. He felt a mighty love warping them into shapes neither of them could have imagined, a terrible love, a horrific love, and he was left weak and trembling, tears streaming down his face from the beauty of it, and the sight of his daddy’s crying filled Hermy with great unease.

“Daddy? Daddy, what’s the matter?”

Burton gave his head a little shake, his eyes refocusing on the boy before him, and he smiled. He was happy. He was so…enormously happy. So happy, he could forgive the boy cumming without permission, all he wanted was to hold him tight to him for hours–and so he did. Jules came by a couple hours later, silently slipping open the door to see, and saw his two masters sleeping peacefully in each other’s arms, the lights still on in the room. He didn’t begrudge them, not anymore, though he had been so fiercely jealous of the boy those fifteen years ago, when the dean had met the newest member of the faculty and fallen deeply, inexplicably in love.

But now–now he couldn’t hold it against them, either of them. There was a place for him here as well, in service, but he could never come between them. There was no space there, they were…inseparable, somehow, in a way Jules couldn’t explain, not even after serving them all this time. It was a beautiful love, but also terrifying. Looking at them, he was crying without even knowing why, shaking as he turned out the lights, and retreated down to his small room in the basement, where he was safe, and alone.

It was a couple of weeks later now, and Spring had begun to shake itself from a dull and dreary Winter at long last. Burton and Hermy were striding down the street, hand in hand, discussing the work of the day. Unable to maintain a relationship at the college, Hermy had instead begun teaching at a local private school. It wasn’t his passion, and he did miss the research, but he knew it was for the best, so he could be with his daddy. He felt, at times, like he’d lost something, a piece of himself he hadn’t even been aware of having. It wasn’t his anymore–he’d given it away, and there was no getting it back.

He looked over and saw a strange old man, standing outside a shop somehow wedged impossibly between a bodega and old electronics shop. He was grinning, and watching them walk down the street together. He looked over at daddy, and he too had noticed him, and Daddy gave to old man the slightest of nods, like an old friend from another life, and then suggested they returned home for dinner.

I’ll Change for You (Part 7)

He looked up and down the sidewalk, planning on following Herman and making him accept the ride he’d offered, but it was no worry, really. After all, he’d just find him in his office later–watching the younger professor eat his lunch today…he’d decided what his next step was going to be. He drove back to class in his luxury sedan and rode the elevator up to his own office. No longer an adjunct professor, he was a fully tenured professor. He taught a seminar that afternoon, and had a few productive meetings with some of his teaching assistants and graduate students. Herman was never far from his mind, however, and he hadn’t seen the object of his interest return to the office after lunch. He was, in fact, a bit worried that he’d missed him, or worse, scared him off by being a bit too forward. Still, it was clear that the man had enjoyed himself–as had Burt. The pendant…it was getting closer, and he took a moment to examine it while he was alone.

The light was brighter now–quite a bit brighter in fact–but somehow he knew it wasn’t finished with them yet. It was nearly four by the time Herman tried to slip past his door to his own office, but Burt saw him, and called out, “Herman! A moment please?”

Sheepishly, Herman stepped back and into the office, Burt smiling kindly at him. “What is it, sir?”

Sir. That caught him off guard, but Burt very much enjoyed the sound of it. “I was wondering, Herman, if you had any plans this evening.”

“Oh, uh…I just have some work to get done, is all.”

“I’d like you to join me for dinner this evening, at my home. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

He could see the conflict in Herman’s eyes. He…knew it was inappropriate, what the two of them had engaged in at lunch, and yet nothing had even happened. But dinner? At Burt’s home? The two of them alone? “I…I don’t know if that would be appropriate…”

Burt smiled, “I assure you, Herman,” he said as he hauled himself up from his chair, “it can be entirely appropriate if you so desire. Just two colleagues having a nice meal, and nothing more,” he walked over to where Herman was standing and shut the door, sealing them in the office, “But perhaps you’d like something more than appropriate?” Before Herman could object, Burt pressed him to the wall, firmly yet gently, and began kissing him, tasting a bit of their sweet dessert still on his breath. Herman squirmed a moment, but relented, kissing him back, hungrily. Burt, the fantasy from the bathroom stall returning to him vividly, pressed Herman down on the shoulder, and felt him collapse down onto his knees in front of him, and the professor rubbed and kissed at his suited gut with one hand, while the other was openly groping himself. He…desperately wanted to go further, but not yet–he had to…wait. Burt pulled away, smoothing down his shirt, which had a few wet spots from where Herman had licked him. On his knees, he looked…horrified by what he’d just done, and yet he couldn’t hide his arousal–not from Burt. “Dinner this evening.” he said. “I won’t take no for an answer. Six sharp.”

“Y-Yes sir…” Herman said, blushing a bit at that formality.

“Good boy,” Burt said, the word slipping out without much thought, and he saw Herman’s eyes go wide, and he slipped out of the office, the tent apparent in the front of his slacks. Still–that didn’t bother him really. So what if someone saw it? He felt so confident and self-assured, it was a feeling he had never really known before, but then again, as a young man, it was difficult to gain this sort of confidence after years of living. Burt went back down to his sedan and climbed in–he had a couple of hours until dinner at least–and he realized he didn’t actually have dinner planned out at all! There was a moment of panic, but it was washed away by something else, a sense that everything was going to be just fine–all he needed to do, was trust that everything was going according to the amulet’s plan. He drove home, to a sizable house not too far from campus, parked and went inside. His hard on hadn’t diminished at all, since he’d left Herman’s office–it was clear that it was time for another step closer to who he needed to be, for Herman’s sake.

He went into his study and sat down at his desk, already thinking of Herman, thinking of him on his knees there, in the office–no! No, not, in the office, here. Here in his home, right there in the middle of the room on his knees, and naked. There was…a smell in the room, but it was difficult for Burt to place right away, until he felt the thing in his hand–the hand not presently stroking his cock. It was…his pipe. One of his many pipes. He slid the stem into his mouth and took a draw, the smoke filling his mouth, and he stood up in his mind, crossing to where Herman was, and blowing the smoke into his face, covering him with it, while the boy moaned in lust.

“What do you want, boy?”

“Please sir–please fuck me.”

He thought he was naked–but no. Burt looked down and saw that he was wearing a set of leather clothing, perfectly tailored to fit his even wider frame. His cock had no problem responding, and his massive gut couldn’t hide the ten inch member, either. He ordered Herman into position, and just the sight of his plugged hole was enough to drive Burt over the edge. He grabbed at a handkerchief he kept on his desk for just such an event, and carefully caught his cum in it. A gift for Herman later, perhaps. He heaved a sigh, and looked around at his study, surprised to discover it was…larger than then he’d entered it a few minutes earlier, and the walls lined with several racks of pipes, along with a full sized humidor, should he be more in the mood for a cigar. He leaned back in his chair, his gut shifting around him, though whether it was more a gut, or had begun to sag too far, was a different question. In any case, it felt wonderful, and he stroked it idly, excited for dinner with Herman, and wondering how Jules was coming along with the preparations.