Harvey parked a few blocks away from the club, looked around to make sure there was no one around who might recognize him, and then climbed out of the car. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had gotten the invitation from the club for their Halloween party, especially since it was a gay club, but he had been known to swing both ways, always as a top, of course. He couldn’t risk tarnishing his BMOC credentials if it got out that he had pleasured someone other than himself. He was wearing baggy jeans and a hoodie pulled up over his head to give him some anonymity, and had the invite tucked in the pocket. After locking his car, he walked the two or three blocks over to the party.
Of course, there were at least five other parties Harvey had promised to attend, about one for each of the girls he was seeing publicly at the time, but when it came time to get ready, none of them had interested him. So instead, he was walking up to the door of a gay club, and the bouncer checking invitations at the door. He flashed the paper, and was let into an elaborately decorated entry hall, almost as though he was being let into an old mansion. The illusion was really quite good, with realistic cobwebs, and flickering candlelight. The oddest part was that the entire room had no windows, despite the fact that Harvey was sure he had seen windows on the outside. It was a bit disorienting, as he waited in line to be greeted by the bulky man dressed all in black, accompanied by a cloak and a cane. Next to him were two more overly muscled bouncers handing out costumes to the revelers, and directing them to a wall of changing rooms.
After a minute or two, Harvey was at the front of the line, and the man shook his hand. “Ah, Harvey Mansfield, the star quarterback! So glad you could fit us into your busy Halloween schedule,” he said, and then handed him a pile of clothes, “Jerome will direct you to your changing room. Enjoy the night!”
The large black bouncer directed Harvey quickly to a room, and nearly shoved him in, even before Harvey could realize what had happened. How had that man recognized him so quickly, and in his disguise? Harvey didn’t really care all that much, and took a look at the clothes the man had handed him. The pile was surprisingly bulky, and after a bit of investigation, Harvey saw that he had been given a very large and elaborate fat suit, along with a set of conservative business attire fit for someone fifty years older than him. It certainly wasn’t anything he was going to wear. He tried to exit the small room to complain, but it had been locked. On the opposite wall was another door, but that one was closed too. When he touched the door, a strange voice spoke from nowhere in particular, “Only those in their costumes can enter the party,” and said nothing more, though the room seemed to close in a bit on Harvey, as he continued jiggling the knobs. Before long, he was certain that the walls were going to collapse on him, and in a panic, he began stripping out of his clothes, and the walls began to recede.
It would be humiliating, but he could put it on for a moment, and then find his way out of this nut house without losing too much face. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone would recognize him in this getup. What did he have to lose? He unfurled the suit and climbed into it, finding it one piece, like a rubber body suit. The outside felt unnervingly real, and was covered all over with a pelt of white body hair. The front opened up, allowing him to step in to the feet of the suit, and pull it up around him. The fat suit was sagging, like it was unfilled, though Harvey wasn’t sure what he was supposed to fill it up with. Figuring it would all come clear eventually, he kept zipping it up, the gut swinging over and disguising the closure beneath it, though it too was saggy, as were the arms.
He expected that to be the entire suit, but he felt behind him a hood, which he pulled over his head, revealing itself to be a form fitting, rubber mask. The top was bald, aside from a horseshoe of curly hair around it, and a thin piece of rubber crossed above his mouth, giving him a bristly white moustache. The rest of the mask was covered with wrinkles, and in the mirror, even Harvey had to admit that he looked like he had the face of an old man. A low hissing filled the room, and the entire suit began to slowly expand, however, Harvey wasn’t sure what it was filling with. It sounded like air, but he could actually feel the weight piling on him. It also didn’t slosh like water. When it stopped, the illusion was complete, and the rest of him looked old and fat too. Of course, it still felt like a suit, which was some consolation, that at least it was an illusion. Just to check, he lifted up the heavy apron and saw his own cock pointing out, though the suit had absorbed much of its length, making it appear much smaller than it actually was. He certainly wasn’t going to be scoring any tail in this getup, but then again, he was only going to be wearing it long enough to get out of this freaky bar.
He quickly pulled on the business attire, starting with the very large briefs and undershirt, then pulling the navy pants up over his gut, and putting on and tucking the business shirt in, which felt more like a sheet of bedding than an item of clothing. Finally, he tied the tie around the neck and slipped on the loafers, and heard the door unlock behind him. He took a final look in the mirror, quite astounded by the realism of the illusion, if not the illusion itself. He looked around the grab his real clothes, but they weren’t where he had left them on the floor. In fact, they weren’t anywhere. The walls were beginning to close in again, and before he felt like he was going to suffocate, he opened the second door, and made his way out into the club, leaving his clothes behind.
The room he found himself in was a bar, but like everything else, had been entirely redecorated to look like a seedy biker bar. There was a jukebox in a corner playing country music, and a few guys dressed up as truckers and bikers drinking and chatting all around the room. Harvey immediately felt uncomfortable, and as fast as he could, walked out the nearest door, which he assumed would lead outside, but instead he found himself in a long, dark corridor with the occasional wall and doorway leading elsewhere into the complex. However, now Harvey was completely disoriented. The club couldn’t be that big, the thought, as he started off, dodging the occasional reveler stumbling down the hall. However, Harvey wasn’t used to his new weight, and by the time he had walked fifty feet, he was huffing and panting like the out of shape old man he looked like.
After another fifty feet, all he could focus on was finding somewhere to sit and rest, so he picked the nearest door and found himself in something resembling a strip club, well, an empty strip club. However, there were seats, so he sat down, and wiped his face with his sleeve, desperate to get rid of some of the sweat leaking through his mask. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a grandfather clock begin to chime, and the entire air stilled around him. By the second chime, Harvey had stopped moving too, listening as it rang again and again, and as it continued, a feeling of dread filled his now oversized stomach. It was the witching hour, anything could happen, he though, though he didn’t know why, as the clock struck a twelfth time and fell silent, Harvey exhaled, the only sound in the room, and a moment later, the room was filled with lights and a pulsing club beat.
Harvey was caught off guard for several moments, as he tried to adjust to the sound around him, when he could focus again, he saw that a young, muscular man dressed in nothing more than a thong had strutted out onto the stage and begun dancing around the pole in the middle of the room. “Hey big boy,” he called out, “Why don’t you come a bit closer?” and began grinding his groin against the pole.
Harvey was hot again, but for an entirely different reason. Pure lust and desire gripped him, as he heaved himself up and waddled down to where the muscleman was gyrating. He sat down again, never taking his eyes away, tweaking one of his nipples and rubbing his crotch suggestively. “Yeah man,” he said with a much deeper voice than he remembered having, “Shake that fuckin’ tight ass.”
“I can only shake it if it has the money to keep it goin’ mister,” the muscle man said innocently, and quickly, Harvey dug into one of his pockets and pulled out a fat wallet stuffed full of cash. He pulled out a five, and wheezing a bit, managed to tuck it into the band of the man’s thong. As the man began gyrating again, Harvey fell back into his seat and began tweaking his nipples again, amazed at how sensitive they were. That thought was followed by the realization that he shouldn’t be able to feel his nipples at all. Surprised, Harvey rubbed his massive body, and found that he could feel everything—from his sagging man tits to hefty gut and even his second and third chins. In a panic, he tried to pull his mask off, but found that it had disappeared. His face simply was wrinkled, his moustache was real, and his head was missing most of its hair.
“What’s wrong man?” the stripper asked, seeing Harvey distressed. He hoped down of the stage and began rubbing his hands all over Harvey’s fat body, “do you need a big strong muscleman to make you feel better?”
The lust roared back with a vengeance, and Harvey reached out to rub his hand along the man’s hard muscles, but he evaded his touch.
“You know the rules old man, if you want more, you got to pay more,” the stripper said, now rubbing Harvey’s nipples through his shirt.
Moaning and panting, Harvey pulled out his wallet and shoved two twenties at the man, then grabbed him and started rubbing his face into the muscular chest in front of him. “Fuck yeah, I love the way you young hunks smell,” he heard himself say, but it was true. Harvey did love the sweaty, masculine musk rolling off the body in front of him. The stripper began gyrating around, grinding his rock hard abs against Harvey’s face.
With one hand, he reached under his fat gut and started massaging his cock, but try as he might, he couldn’t get it hard, as horny as he was. The stripper reached down to help, and chuckled, “Having some trouble down there, Grandpa?”
Harvey blushed, but it was true. He hadn’t had an erection in at least fifty years. He’d tried everything—Viagra, Cialis, but nothing had helped, and with his high blood pressure, his doctor had told him it would be better to just live with impotence. Of course, being impotent doesn’t mean one stops wanting sex. Sure, Harvey might get a load out once a month, but that didn’t mean he stopped living his life in a haze of lust. “I just…have a bit of a problem, that’s all,” he grumbled defensively, “It doesn’t concern you.”
“Aw…I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Here, pay me a bit more, and I might be able to solve that little problem of yours,” the stripper said, and winked.
Harvey was disbelieving, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have enough money. He dug out a hundred, and handed it to the man, who tucked it into the string of his thong, and extended his hand to Harvey. The man helped him up, and then pushed him up against the stage, and began massaging Harvey’s fat body.
“Damn Grandpa, you’re huge!” the man said, laughing, and Harvey felt his face turn redder. He thought about saying something, but the man’s hands on his fatty rolls felt so good, he just moaned, and wished his cock was hard so he could jack it. Reaching around him, grinding his own hard bulge against him the whole time, the stripper reached around and undid Harvey’s pants, then pulled them down and let them fall around his ankles, revealing Harvey’s now fat, saggy and very hairy, ass cheeks. “Damn man, that’s quite a crevice. Good thing I got enough tool to get down there and more,” he said, as Harvey felt the man’s cock rub up and down his crack.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Harvey said, and tried to pull away, “That’s not what I thought you had in mind!”
“What, you can’t seriously be a virgin, can you?” The man said, pulling Harvey close again, “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” With a gradual push, he began to enter Harvey’s hole. Harvey expected it to hurt, and it did, but much more interesting, he felt a stirring in his crotch. Inch my massive inch, the man worked his cock deeper into Harvey, and true to his promise, he was gentle, loving even, coddling Harvey the whole way, until he had the old man begging for more. The stirring in his crotch had grown to a full on throb, and with an experimental grope, he reached down and found that his perpetually soft cock had actually expanded to half mast. At the same time, he felt the stripper pull out his cock, and thrust it back in slowly, making Harvey quiver.
“Oh…fuck…that feels so good,” Harvey moaned.
“Yeah, you old white men are all the same. ‘Oh I couldn’t possibly be a bottom’ they say, but as soon as you get a big, black cock up your ass, your tune changes real quick, don’t it? So, do you want me to fuck your ass? Do you want to be this big black man’s bitch for the evening?”
“Oh god, don’t stop. Take all the money you want, just please, fuck me!”
“Oh I don’t want money,” the black man said, “I want you to dance for me,” he said, and pulled his cock out of Harvey’s ass, making the old man whimper. His cock immediately returned to its flaccid state, and the relief he had longed for was now taken from him. The stripper had a seat in the front row, and eyed Harvey, stroking his thick cock, “Well, go on.” Hesitantly, Harvey began to sway and gyrate as best he could but the stripper shook his head. “Not down here, up there, on stage. Strip for me. Make me want that fat hairy body of yours.”
With a gulp, Harvey pulled his pants up, and slowly walked up the stairs onto the brightly lit stage. Part of him flashed back to his previous reality, and he refused to believe that he was about to strip for a man and beg him for his cock. No BMOC would ever do that! But he wasn’t a BMOC, was he? He was an obese, sexually frustrated business man who would do anything for release, even strip in front of a beautiful muscle man and humiliate himself so he might fuck him. The music was surrounding him, egging him on, and pulsating faster. Harvey loosened his tie, and began to gyrate, while the big black man hooted and catcalled, urging Harvey on to more and more perverse moves. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a tanktop stretched to the limit by his big gut. It shimmered for a moment, and suddenly Harvey was wearing a harness with thick leather straps running over his shoulders and under his man tits, emphasizing their size. He took one in his hand, and with some difficulty got it close enough to his mouth to lick his nipple, which made the stripper go wild, “There ya go Grandpa, now we’re getting somewhere!”
As Harvey undid his belt and slid down his pants, revealing the black cotton jockstrap he was wearing, he said to the stripper in front of him, “You know, I don’t even know your name.”
“Well, Grandpa,” he said, still stroking his massive, black meat, “Why don’t you just call me Big Daddy.”
Big Daddy—for some reason, that sounded just right to Harvey. He turned around, gyrated his massive ass and said, “So what do you think of my ass Big Daddy?”
“Why I think it’s just marvelous Grandpa,” the man replied, “Why don’t you shove something up there to get ready for my cock?” He tossed something onto the stage, and as Harvey bent over seductively to grab it, he saw that it was a thick black dildo, though not as large as Big Daddy’s cock. Unable to help himself, he started licking the shaft up and down, getting it good and wet. He bent over, using the stripper pole for support, and after a bit of work, got it lined up with his hole and started working it in, moaning all the while. After a moment, he realized that he was speaking, though he couldn’t control the words falling from his mouth, “Oh Big Daddy, I want your cock shoved up my old loose asspussy so bad, I’d do anything. Oh, it feels so good to have your hard cock buried up there, it’s the only thing that can get my cock hard.”
“Well, see if you can get some satisfaction with that fuck stick there. Big Daddy loves watching his Grandpa shove a dildo up his ass.”
Happy to be pleasing his daddy, Harvey bent over and started ramming the dildo up his ass as hard and as fast as he could, moaning and grunting as he did. He was sweating all over, and his hair was matted to the side of his head, but he couldn’t stop. With one hand working the dildo, he rubbed his soft cock through the pouch of his jockstrap, now even more sexually frustrated. He needed his daddy’s cock, and he needed it soon, or he would never have relief. “Please daddy,” he begged, “Please shove your massive cock up my ass? I need it, I can’t live without it!”
“Oh you fuckin’ slut, “Big Daddy said, “You know just how to get me all hot and bothered,” he said, and hopped up on stage, taking over the task of working the dildo in and out of Harvey’s ass. “You want my cock? Then moan for me bitch, tell me what a sorry piece of ass you are.”
“Please daddy, I’m nothing without your cock. You complete me, even though I’m not worthy. Please, fuck me. Fuck me hard!”
“Are you a slave to my cock?”
“Yes daddy!”
“And I bet you’re a slave to every black cock you see, aren’t you?”
“God yes, I beg any young black man I see you fuck me silly.”
“Well, then it wouldn’t be very nice to keep that pussy of yours waiting, would it?” Big Daddy said, pulled the dildo out quickly, and replaced it with his own cock. While he might have been gentle before, he was vicious and rough now, slamming his massive cock deep into Harvey’s ass with each thrust. Every time sent a huge shiver through Harvey, who was uncontrollably jacking his own hardening cock and panting like a dog. His old body wouldn’t be able to take much more of this, but he couldn’t stop. He needed this young man to fill his white ass with his black spunk. Only then would he be able to cum.
“Yeah, jack that puny cock of yours, Grandpa, how does it feel to be a black man’s bitch? You tried keeping us down, but the truth is, you can’t beat us. All you old farts want our giant cocks up your asses. You beg, you plead, and if you ask nice enough, we’re always willing to be accommodating. Only we can give you that satisfaction you desire. Only we can give that old, saggy cock of yours release.” Big Daddy said as he began to piston in and out as fast as he could. Old, sour cum was now leaking out of Harvey’s rock hard cock, and he was meeting every one of Big Daddy’s thrusts, desperate to get his cock as deep as possible. Suddenly, Big Daddy shoved his cock in and held it there, grabbed Harvey around the belly, and turned them both around. Previously, Harvey had been staring at the back of the stage, but now that he was looking out, he saw that when he wasn’t looking the entire club had been packed with beautiful, young black men. The sight made Harvey’s mouth water, and Big Daddy resumed his fucking, much to the enjoyment of the crowd.
“Yeah Big Daddy, fuck me in front of all of your black brothers. Show them what a bitch I am for black cock!” Harvey said, and the room cheered and laughed. Harvey was embarrassed, but he couldn’t stop. The thrusts were coming faster now, and Harvey was jacking his cock wildly now, aching and shivering with lust.
“Yeah you fucking white pig! Take my big black load!” Big Daddy shouted, and began spraying his wad deep into Harvey’s bowels. At the same time, Harvey groaned and shot his own, much smaller load, dribbling his cum all over the stage. Out in the audience, men were calling him a pig bitch and a whore, making him blush, but the fires of lust continued to rage within him. He still needed so much release, but Big Daddy was already pulling out, leaving him empty.
“Please Big Daddy! Fuck me more, I need your cock!” he begged, making the men laugh some more.
Up front, a hulking black man stroking a cock even bigger than Big Daddy’s said, “I’ll fuck that disgusting, fat ass of yours pig if you clean my boots.” He climbed up on stage, and Harvey immediately got down on his knees and began licking the leather until it shown with his spit. “Yeah pig bitch, oink for me. Oink like the slut you are.”
Harvey did his best pig impression causing all of the men in the room to holler and cheer. They loved him, he thought as the black men got down behind him and shoved his cock into Harvey’s dribbling hole, and he loved their cocks. “Yeah sir, fuck my fat white cunt!” Harvey yelled, “Everyone fuck my nasty sluthole!” The men cheered, and began to line up for a chance at the old bitch’s newly popped cherry.
Tag: story
Vignette: Welcome Home, Bro
***Warning: This post contains references to incest. Don’t like it, don’t read it. ***
Taylor parked the car on the street, happy to finally be home for a break from college. Sure, his school was only a few hours away, but between his classes and football, he had barely had a chance to even talk to his dad in the past few weeks, and it would be a nice chance to spend some time with him. Too bad his brother, Sam, was still at home, the slacker. He’d dropped out of high school a few months ago, as soon as he turned eighteen, but refused to get a job and move out of the house. It was embarrassing that a guy like that could even be related to him, the hotshot all star jock, successful in classes and with the ladies. He knew that Sam was gay as well, since he’d found him with some really disgusting porn a few times, but he’d never told his dad. For whatever reason, his dad had always tried to support Sam, but Taylor knew there wasn’t anything he could do. Some people just couldn’t be helped.
He unloaded his bags from the back and headed up to the front door, which he unlocked with his key. The front door opened right onto the living room, and he was greeted by the sight of his short fat, hairy brother in his dad’s armchair naked, with some fat old man kneeling before him, sucking him off!
“What the…What the fuck is this! Does dad know what–” Taylor started to say, when his brother raised up a gun and fired it at him, a prismatic ray filling his entire vision, and sending him crashing to the floor, staring ahead blankly, a bit of drool leaking out the side of his mouth.
“Dang, he got here sooner than I thought he would,” Sam said to himself, then pushed the man off his cock, “Go get dressed for a night at the club, slave. Put on that nice new harness of yours, and don’t forget your collar.”
The older man nodded quickly, adding a curt “Yes, sir,” before walking out of the living room.
Sam got up out of the chair and walked over to where his brother lay on the ground, fiddling with some of the controls on the side of the gun as he did. “Taylor, can you hear me?”
“…Yes…” Taylor said, his voice a straight monotone.
“When I release you from your trance, you will stand up, close the door, and then stand at attention until I tell you otherwise. You will obey all of my commands from this moment onward, regardless of whether you want to or not. You will not be able to attack me or try to cause me any kind of harm, nor will you try and take the gun. Do you understand all of these orders?”
“…Yes…”
Sam shot his brother with the gun again, this time with a beam of pure white, and a second later, Taylor blinked, stood up, closed the door, and then stood at attention in front of his brother. From the look on his face, he was obviously trying to resist, but his body wouldn’t do what he wanted it to do, not anymore.
“Welcome home, Taylor, how’s college going? Putting those scholarships to good use?” Sam said, sneering. He barely came up to his brother’s chest, even though he was only a year younger than him. In fact, he was almost as big around as he was tall, weighing in at nearly 300 pounds, although to Taylor, it looked like he had grown since he’d left for college.
“Fuck you, Sam. What the hell did you shoot me with?”
“What, this?” Sam said, holding up the ray gun, “Just a little something which got shipped here accidentally. The federal agents who came to retrieve it said it was being used for secret military testing. Of course, when they left they all knew that all of this had been a great, big, misunderstanding. See, this is a hypnoray, or at least a prototype of one. Who cares? It works damn well.”
“That’s a pile of bullshit.”
“Yeah, I figured you’d say something like that,” Sam said, “Strip bro, all the way down. From now on, you are forbidden from wearing clothing in the house unless I say otherwise.”
Taylor wanted to cuss out Sam. He wanted to punch him, and beat him to death, but instead, he pulled off his shirt, the dropped his pants, and pulled off his briefs, socks and shoes, trying not to blush. Sam just looked on, licking his lips a couple of times, making Taylor shiver in disgust.
“Dang, you know, if I actually had a thing for muscular jocks like you, I might actually find you attractive,” Sam said, “Though I have to ask–is the reason you went through so many girlfriends because of your tiny cock? I mean, you sure did get the shit end of the stick there.”
“Shut the fuck up, Sam!” Taylor shouted, tried to lunge at his brother, but returned to standing at attention, his body unresponsive.
His brother said nothing in reply for a moment, just came over and started rubbing his body along the contours of Taylor’s muscles. “You got the best of everything else though, I gotta admit that,” Sam finally said, “Pity it won’t be around for too much longer.”
“What?”
“Oh Taylor, I have such big plans for you!” Sam said, tweaking one of his brother’s nipples, “See, you really have treated me like shit all of these years. All those names you called me, all because I was short, fat and lazy–which I must say are really my best qualities. So I think the best way for you to realize just how wrong you were is to become as much like me as possible.”
Taylor just stared at his brother. Was he fucking serious?
“I can see from that look on your face that you don’t believe me. Well here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to take this hypnogun, and I’m going to use it on you. When you head back to school, you’re going to be a whole new person. You’ll stop working out, you eat junk food all the time, skip class, jack off at all hours of the day, hit on all your teammates–anything I want you to do really.”
“You’re lying. There’s no way you could do something like that.”
“Oh? Well, perhaps a demonstration,” Sam said, and shot Taylor with the gun once more, sending him back into his trance. “Now, Taylor, tell me the name of the biggest, dirtiest guy on the football team. One of the defensive line, the bigger the better.”
“Max…Max Carpenter.”
“Tell me about Max.”
“He’s…really big. Fat and muscular. Probably 250 pounds. He’s really loud too, and kind of obnoxious. Tells lots of jokes, but they aren’t funny. He also doesn’t wear deodorant at all, which is really disgusting, and refuses to wash his jockstraps.”
“Now Taylor, I’m going to tell you somethings about Max, and what you think of him. When you hear these things, you will know them to be true. You will remember how you used to think, but that will seem obviously wrong to you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“You are very attracted to Max, Taylor. You find him to be one of the more attractive men you have ever seen. You want Max to like you, so you are always trying to hang around him. You laugh at all of his jokes, and agree with anything he says. You fantasize about servicing him in the locker room, think about sucking his cock or being fucked by him. He is the focus of all of your masturbation fantasies. You imagine yourself licking his pits clean, filling yourself up with his masculine scent, and then you cum, every time. Understand?”
“Yes.”
Sam shot him with the gun again, and Taylor came back to awareness. “You…You did something. What did you do? What was that?”
“Tell me something Taylor, what do you think about your teammate Max?”
“Max Carpenter? Oh man, that guy is so hot!” Taylor said, feeling his heart beat faster at just the thought of his hunky teammate, “God, I’d do anything to suck his cock, or feel it up my ass. I’ve seen it in the showers, and its fucking massive, Sam. Huge. God, and he’s just the funniest guy I’ve ever met! I…No, no this isn’t right, is it? What did you do!?”
“I just made a little tweak is all, nothing big. Nothing like what I’m going to do to you this weekend. When you get back to campus, you won’t be able to stop yourself from begging Max to fuck you in front of all of your teammates, as soon as you see him. Won’t be able to think about anything other than how amazing he smells after a long practice.”
“No…No, please don’t.” Taylor said, his cock rock hard and jutting out in front of him. Sam reached out and started stroking it, making his big brother whimper.
“Yeah, imagine how great he smells, all those times he got close to you in the locker room, in that dirty jockstrap of his. You want to smell that jock, don’t you? You want him to grind your face into his crotch, and make you his bitch!”
With a groan, Taylor shot a massive load of cum all over his brother’s hand. God, he did want Max so badly, he couldn’t help himself. San chuckled again, and shoved his cum soaked hand up to Taylor’s mouth. “Please Sam, please don’t, I’m sorry.”
“Lick it.”
Taylor couldn’t stop himself from sucking his own cum off every one of his brother’s fingers, as Sam spoke, “Of course you’re sorry, Taylor. But really, I’m doing you a favor! You’re going to be so hot soon, once we get rid of all those muscles and replace them with fat, and when you stop shaving and cutting your hair, and maybe you’ll stop taking showers and washing your jockstraps too, like Max. That would be hot, don’t you think?”
“No! That’s fucking disgusting,” Taylor said, but his cock had twitched again at the mention of Max, and he began to panic. Sam couldn’t really do this, could he?
“Well, you’ll agree soon enough,” Sam said, as the older man from earlier came hurrying into the living room. He had put some clothes on, if you could call them clothes even. His big belly was strapped into a leather harness, and he had on a pair of leather shorts stretched tight across his thick thighs. A metal collar was secured around his neck with a padlock. The man’s entire body and head was shaved smooth, from head to toe, aside from a bushy beard on his face.
“I’m ready for the club, master,” the man said, eagerly, “When are we going?”
“Who the fuck is that, anyway?” Taylor asked, and Sam looked at him funnily, and laughed.
“Wait, you really don’t recognize him? Your own father? I mean, sure, he’s made some changes to his life, but he’s still the same guy, deep down, isn’t that right? You love your sons, don’t you dad?”
“Yes son, I love you very much,” his dad said, and then walked over and started kissing Sam, who shoved his tongue into his father’s mouth. Taylor felt the knot in his stomach tighten and he tried to not throw up. He didn’t want it to be true, but now that it had been pointed out to him, he could see it. It was his dad. Sam had turned him into some sort of perverse leather slave! What the hell was going on?
“Yeah, dear old dad here has been discovering a few things about himself over the past couple months, like how much he loves being fat, for one. And another, how much he loves having anything shoved up his ass.” Sam pushed one of his fingers up his dad’s hole, making the older man shiver with delight. “He just loves going to the gay clubs around town and begging men to fuck him, use him like the fat cumdump he is, isn’t that right?”
“Yes sir, I’m your dirty cumdump, sir! I love having a hard cock up my ass more than anything!”
Taylor felt himself getting a bit light headed. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t be real.
“Alright dad,” Sam said, giving his slave a kiss on the cheek, “I’m not gonna go with you tonight–you’re on your own. I want you to find some rough, abusive top and go home with him, and do whatever he wants. You want him to beat you, and humiliate you, and dump his cum in you, because that’s all your good for, right?”
“Yes sir, I will sir!” his dad said, and hurried out the door and into his car, eager to get his night started.
“You’re a monster,” Taylor said.
“No, I’m your brother, silly. And you’re my slave.” Sam said, sitting back down in his armchair, his cock erect. “Now get sucking on this cock and finish up what dad started earlier, which you so rudely interrupted. Suck me off like you fantasize sucking off Max. If you do a good job tonight, maybe I’ll let you suck all the cum out of your dad’s ass tomorrow morning when he gets home.”
Taylor tried to scream and fight, but he just walked over, got down on his knees and started sucking off his brother’s cock. He screamed inside, but all he could think about was Max, and what it would be like sucking his teammates sweaty cock after practice, and he started sucking harder.
A few days later, a very different Taylor climbed into the car, waved goodbye to his brother and father, and headed back to college. He didn’t know why he’d been wasting so much of his life with sports and girls. All he really wanted to do now was gorge himself, watch porn, play video games, and have sex with as many men as he possibly could. Yeah, and as soon as he got to campus, he was going to find Max and beg him to fuck his face with that big cock of his, he couldn’t wait. He let out a large burp, feeling his taut stomach from the massive amount of food Sam had forced down his throat this morning, his cock already hard, imagining what he’ll look like when he’s his brother’s size. He’d really been wrong about his brother all these years–he was a great guy. No, Sam was more than that. Sam was his master, and Taylor knew he would serve his brother for the rest of his life.
Image Vignette: Replacement Parts
“Alright, and here’s the guest room, where you can stay. It’s a bit…tight, I’ll admit. It used to me my…uh…friend’s workshop, so pardon the mess.” Marty said, and scratched the back of his head in slight embarrassment as Ryan looked around the room with some dismay. It certainly would have never passed inspection back in the Navy, but it would have to make do.
“This looks fine,” Ryan said, “I just hope you’re not expecting me to start right now,” he added with a smile. The rain outside was horrendous. Marty’s truck had gotten stuck in a patch of deep mud, and they’d both had to hike a half mile through the heavy rain to the farmhouse. Ryan’s clothes were soaked, and Marty had dropped his bag in a puddle, meaning he had nothing dry to wear. Marty had been just as soaked, but the short, stocky redneck had already taken a moment to change into a dirty white undershirt, cut off flannel vest and some jeans.

“Hah, nah, I wouldn’ make ya do that. Tomorrow mornin’ will be fine, if the weather clears,” Marty said, “You can just focus on getting settled this evening. Um…How about I go get these dryin’,” he said, referring to Ryan’s bag, “and ya can strip out a those. There’s probably some a Bill’s old work clothes in the closet there ya can wear fer the time being.”
Ryan heaved a bit of a sigh, and looked around at the cramped space again. Two tours of duty, and this is where he’s ended up. He remembered when he’d talked to a recruitment officer, who had sworn the military was the best track into college and a high paying job there was–instead, here he was, working on some rural farm as a mechanic and handyman to get by. Still, he at least had a roof over his head, his youth, and his health, if little else, though he would definitely catch a cold if he didn’t change out of these sopping clothes. He stripped down and rummaged through the closet, but all he could find in there were a pair of battered overalls, which from the musty smell, hadn’t been washed or worn in quite a while. Still, he didn’t have a whole lot of options, so he stripped down to just his jockstrap and ball cap and then slipped the overalls on, cringing a bit from the crusty material.

They were far too large for his frame, even if he had put on a bit of a belly since leaving the navy. Whoever Bill was, he hadn’t been a small guy. Ryan had asked Marty a few questions about Bill on the way over, but he’d been pretty cryptic and didn’t appear to want to talk about it much. Apparently they’d been friends for a while. Marty had taken care of the farm work, while Bill handled the broken down equipment, the housework and selling goods in town, until Bill had died of a heart attack a few months before. Marty was still pretty young, and couldn’t keep up both sides of the business himself, so he’d hired Ryan to help him out in exchange for a small salary, room and board.
“Hey Ryan! Dinner’s on the table!” Marty called out, and Ryan, hiking up the legs of the overalls a bit so he didn’t trip, made his way downstairs into the kitchen, where Marty was busy laying out a massive spread of food, including a roast chicken, a massive bowl of mashed potatoes and heaps of gravy, bread, stuffing, the works.
“Ryan took a seat and shook his head, “Hey man, you didn’t have to cook all of this for me. I tend to be a light eater.”
“Nonsense,” Marty said, “Ya need tah keep yer strength up if yer gonna get to all the work I need done around here. Now eat up while I get you something to drink. But hey, no hats at the table.”
Ryan cocked one eyebrow, but Marty was serious, so he took off his cap and set it aside, before taking a generous portion of everything so that he wouldn’t seem rude, and looked over at Marty mixing up something on the counter. “What are you making?” he asked.
“Huh…oh! Uh, nothing much. Just a little whisky drink–a toast to old friends and new beginnings, eh?” Marty said, bringing over two glasses and handing one to Ryan. They clinked glasses and knocked them back–and the taste was far stronger and bitter than Ryan had been expecting, but it went down all the same.
“Dang, what the hell was that?” Ryan said, sputtering a bit.
“Aw, not much. Just a bit of mah home brew. Ya like it? I can get ya some more.”
Ryan really didn’t want any more, but decided against refusing Marty’s hospitality. He dug into the food on his plate, and found he was hungrier than he’d thought. He found himself taking bigger and bigger bites of the delicious food, and by the time Marty had returned, he polished off half of what he’d put on.
“Here ya are man. What, that all yer havin’? Come on, eat up! It’ll help ya grow,” Marty said with a wink, shoved the glass into Ryan’s hand and started piling his plate high. Without really thinking, Ryan knocked the second drink back as well, and the taste was easier now that he was expecting it, and without a word, dug into the mound of chicken and potatoes on his plate. Marty sat across from him, eating a bit, but mostly watching Ryan and grinning, getting up on occasion to bring him another drink, which Ryan took without objection. By the the end, Ryan had finished off the spread aside from the small bit Marty had eaten, and he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his gut and let off a big belch. “Dang Marty, that was some good shit,” he slurred, “Couldn’ eat another bite.”
“Sorry, but I still have dessert fer us,” Marty said, and brought over a deep dish apple pie, “I know how much ya love mah apple pie after all,” he whispered in Ryan’s ear, who unable to help himself, he took a fork and dug in, not even bothering to slice it. “Let me go get ya another drink,” Marty added, bringing over the rest of the whisky bottle, letting Ryan take swigs from it between giant bites. Marty stood behind him and started running his hands up and down Ryan’s front, both under and over the overalls he was wearing, making Ryan increasingly uncomfortable, but he was also feeling a bit…turned on. He could feel his cock growing uncomfortable in his jockstrap, and he found himself wondering why he was wearing it. He didn’t usually wear underwear, did he? The room was spinning around him, and he tried to focus, but between Marty rubbing his exposed nipples and the delicious pie he had to finish, his thoughts just kept slipping away from his fingers.
When he finally finished, Ryan leaned back in his chair, more stuffed than he’d ever been in his whole life, and suddenly, Marty grabbed his cheeks and kissed him, making Ryan sputter and twist away. “What in tarnation–I ain’t no faggot, fucker!” Ryan said, unable to tell if he was slurring his words, or if his voice really had just come out as a deep, southern twang.
“Well I guess someone ain’t quite ready yet,” Marty said, grabbed Ryan by the arm and helped him up from the chair onto unsteady feet, “Why don’ we go have a sit fer a bit, and relax after that big meal–that sound good, Bill?”
“Mah name ain’t Bill–it’s Ryan…” Ryan muttered, as he stumbled along next to Marty. His body felt strange all of a sudden, like he was too tall, but also a bit front heavy. He passed by a mirror in the hallway, and through his vision was blurred, it didn’t look quite right. He hadn’t had a beard before, had he? Certainly not the bushy light brown one covering his cheeks and chin. And hadn’t these overalls fit badly when he’d put them on? Now though, they felt very comfortable, holding his big gut just right, and he hadn’t stepped on the pant legs once. Marty flopped him down on the couch, and Ryan tried to struggle up, but he felt so weak and heavy. His jockstrap was cutting into his waist, and he really did need to take it off. He’d feel so much better without it on…and yet, another voice was telling him to keep it on, and take off the overalls. But why would he take them off? They were his favorite clothes after all–he wore them pretty much every day. Besides, Marty loved how he looked in them. Then again, Marty loved how he looked in everything…
Marty came back a few moments later, holding a big, bent pipe in his hand. “Here, I know how much you love a good smoke after dinner.” He lit the pipe and then passed it to Ryan, who took a big draw, and let out a big plume of smoke with a sigh.
“Yeah Marty, that’s the ticket. Thanks…” Ryan said, “I…I love ya…Marty.”
“I love you too, Bill.”
“Marty…Marty what’s happenin’ tah me? Why do I feel so strange…” Ryan said, still puffing on the pipe as his eyes swept the room.
“Don’t worry Bill, everythin’ will be back tah normal soon enough,” Marty said, leaned in for another kiss, but Ryan pushed him away. “God damn it, what the fuck is wrong wit ya Bill?”
“I told ya, my name ain’t Bill, it’s Ryan, ‘n I ain’t a fag!” Ryan cried, and tried to sit up from the couch, but the jockstrap cut into him suddenly, like it was trying growing tighter, making him cry out in pain. It felt like it was searing into his skin suddenly, and Marty undid one of the straps off Ryan’s overalls, reached down and felt the offending material.
“So that’s the problem–someone didn’ strip down all the way!” Marty said, “I can fix that.” He ran to the kitchen and came back with some shears, but Ryan fought back against him weakly, so Marty grabbed Ryan’s nipples and twisted them, making his cry out in pleasure as he felt his cock swell. “Now listen here Ryan, ya’re just here tah be some god damn replacement parts, ya got it? I ain’t gonna spend another day without Bill, so yer just gonna have to give up, got it? Now smoke that pipe ‘n hold still!”
“No…No please…please don’,” Ryan said, as Marty cut away his underwear and pulled them out, but as soon as they were gone, Ryan let out a sigh of relief. Fuck he felt better–why had he wanted to keep that jock on so badly anyway? He looked over at Marty, and with his hand reached out and cupped Marty’s crotch, giving it a light squeeze. “Come here ya lug, ‘n give me some sugar…” he said, and Marty, grinning, leaned over and kissed Ryan, his beard growing in faster as they kissed, sharing the smoke from Bill’s old pipe. However, as they were kissing, Ryan felt his balls start to heat up, and soon they hurt enough for him to let out a moan of pain.
“Wh..what is it Bill? What’s wrong?”
“Mah fuckin’ balls, man–fuck! Feels like someone got ‘em caught in a vice!” Ryan fumbled with the fly on the overalls, opened it up, and hauled out his cock. It had grown thicker and longer, as well as growing a meaty foreskin over the head, but his balls hurt more by the second.
Marty however, was overjoyed. The potion was actually working–the witch had been right. Now all Bill had to do was cum, expelling the remnants of Ryan, and he’d have Bill, his redneck, the love of his life back, and they’d never be parted again. He got down on his knees and swallowed Ryan’s new tool to the hilt, making him scream in ecstacy. It only took a couple of good sucks before Ryan was cumming and spasming, releasing his lifesource into Marty’s mouth, who spit it on the floor, and then the body on the couch collapsed back, limply.
Bill? Buddy?” Marty said, shaking the big man’s shoulder, “Hey! Wake up!”
The man let out a groan and grabbed his head. “Fuck man…what the hell? What…what did ya do?”
“I brought ya back Bill…you’re home.” Marty said, and pulled him into a big hug, “I love ya so much, I ain’t never gonna let ya leave me like that ever again.”
