Tag: straight to gay

Russian Agent (2 of 2)

What Andy didn’t know, was that the program he’d entered had, in fact, been designed by the Americans, who had mastered the technology first, and then embedded American spies to sabotage the Russian intelligence network. And so, as the days wore on, Andy tried to muster up his energy to clean up his slovenly apartment, but never seemed to find the energy for much beyond watching American TV (which, he discovered, was actually quite good) and surfing the internet (something he’d never been able to do back in Russia.) The memories of his old self started to sink deeper, and he didn’t even realize he was losing them–he also didn’t realize that this new body of his was always, constantly, hungry.

Eating was second nature to his new persona. He did it mindlessly–at his desk at work, watching TV, snacking as he walked and rode the bus around town. Soon, he was forced to buy new clothes…and admit something else to himself. Something horrible had happened to him, in this procedure–he’d become gay.

For quite a long time, he’d tried to jack off to pictures of women, but nothing had worked well for him. Then, mostly by accident, he’d stumbled across a video of a massive man fucking a woman–and he’d blown his load in seconds. He sought out more videos of massive men, unable to tear his eyes away, unable to imagine himself being that…huge. He tried to resist–he could sense something was wrong. He tried to call in for assistance, but no help came for him. It was over a four day weekend, full of binging, that he asked a feeder he’d been chatting with online to come feed him–and after that, there was no going back.

It’s been five years now, and Andrei is dead. Andy, however, is celebrating his five hundred pound mark with his two feeder-partners. They’re going to stuff him full of an entire, three tierd birthday cake, and then all his friends–bears, cubs and chubs from all over town, and even a few from further away–are going to come over and seed Andy’s hole all night long. Meanwhile Russia has lost contact with twenty of their top agents–they’re sending over another five in a month, to try and track down what happened to their comrades. Still, it’s not likely they’ll be able to resist the allure of American Life either.

Gino’s New Job (Part 1)

Gino’s gut told him the place was a fag bar, even though he couldn’t be sure, but he was so desperate for a job at that point, that he didn’t even care if it was or not. It’s not like he was applying as some gogo dancer or anything, he was just looking to be a barback, or well, anything, really. Hell, washing dishes? Even cleaning toilets, if he had to. His unemployment was about to run out, and without much in the way of skills, he was just happy to have an interview, if nothing else. 

The place had just opened for the day, though there was no one there aside from the staff. Looking around, he became a bit more certain that it was run for fairies, but a man not too much older than he was, in a tailored suit, spied him, walked over and gave him a firm handshake, introducing himself as Wilson. He was the owner, and he escorted Gino back to his office behind the bar, for the interview. 

The interview went surprisingly well. Gino wasn’t exactly happy about having to take all of his clothes off as soon as they were alone, but he did need the job after all. The questions seemed…a bit personal, but Wilson was forgiving. Gino tried to convince him he was straight for quite a while, but it wasn’t too long before Gino realized he’d actually been gay all along. And that Wilson was…amazingly attractive. That he’d do anything his boss told him to do, anything at all. 

That’s how he found himself on his knees, Eating out the back of his new boss’ pants, thanking him for offering him a job. It wasn’t going to be the barback position, apparently, and Wilson was rather vague regarding what it would entail, but he assured Gino he’d enjoy his work so much, he’d never imagine trying to get another job, ever again. Gino wasn’t really paying attention–he was thinking about how much better it would be if he could get his tongue against his boss’ hole, instead of just the suit, but before either of them had really had their fun, Wilson told him to stop, and straightened himself up.

“First things first, Gino, let’s get you into your uniform–then we probably have time for some training before your first shift tonight–how does that sound?”

Source: homobeing

My Training Journal (Part 2)

Entry 14

Ok. I gotta talk about this. I mean, I can’t talk to anyone about this, because fuck, but i gotta put this down somewhere. Am I fucking crazy? Was that just really fucking crazy, what happened today? Because part of me feels so fucking good, and I just had Felix’s cock in my–

I can’t deal with that yet, I don’t want to think about it.

Fuck. How did that even happen, anyway? I mean. I was in the fucking zone, like always, working out, being a damn beast, as he likes to say. And I was feeling good! Damn good really. Really into it, lifting counting, my head just out of the damn zone or something

God, what the fuck am I even writing anymore, nothing is coming out like any sense at all.

I’m lying on the bench, pumping some iron, and he’s spotting me, and I remember seeing it, the tent in his shorts. I see it, but I don’t think much of it. I’ve seen guys get erections before, whatever, you know? It happens. But I’m looking at it, and then I’m *looking at it* and thinking about it, and I think I can smell it, or I can smell something, and it smells damn good, or I’m hungry or something, and I’m just…my eyes won’t fucking look away! And he fucking notices me looking at it, and I’m embarrassed as all fuck, of course, cause guys aren’t supposed to be looking at each other’s junk, and I apologize, and he asks me if I’m fucking gay! Just fucking asks me. I tell him no of course, and rack the weight, because I can’t keep focus on what I’m doing. He starts tell me that he’s gay, that he thinks it’s really hot, watching me work out, so he gets hard on occasion, and…and I feel like I should be freaking out when he tells me this, but it just seems fucking normal as any shit he might say. A guy I trust literally tells me he pops a boner thinking about me, and I’m like “Oh cool, whatevs”!

We keep going, but I can’t stop looking at it, thinking about it. He asks me if I want to see it…and I don’t not want to see it, I guess. I’m kinda fucking curious what’s making that huge damn bulge, you know? So he drops his shorts, and the thing is massive, like nine inches, and we just keep working out like nothing is up, and it’s inches from my damn face. We get through another few reps, the things leaking a bit on my forehead, but I can’t move, I can’t even wipe it off, and he asks if I want to suck it.

I said yes.

I fucking said yes, why the fuck did I say yes!

He said he wasn’t surprised, that I should feel submissive to him, since he’s my trainer, since he’s the one leading me and guiding me, that intimacy is just natural between men of our physical caliber, that there’s nothing we should be ashamed of. I have a huge cock buried down my throat so far I’m fucking gagging, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of, he says!

He tells me to bend over the bench, and I do. He peels down my shorts, grips my ass (which is fucking bigger now, I can fucking tell) and starts kneading it, before shoving his face in and eating my sweaty crack like it’s a fucking pussy. I think I moaned. I fucking hope I didn’t moan. He fucked me and I let him. His whole cock was in my ass and he came and I came and then we fucking kept working out and now I want to either die or have him fuck me all over again, right fucking now, because fuck it felt good it felt so fucking good

Entry 26

Fuck yeah man, six fuckin weeks!!! Time for a status update on my big fuckin bod. Big dont even begin to describe it really but I dont really got a better word. Biceps are huge. Pecs are fuckin huge. Fuck, Felix gropes them like tits sometimes when hes balls deep in my hole, pinches these thick nips of mine makes me so damn hot for his cock every fuckin time. Waist is narrower I guess, my ass is big round and fuck perfect of course! Got abs too. Never had abs before, always had a bit of a gut but since we started cutting a week ago they just fuckin popped out man!

Course the rest of the stuff Im doing helps make me look like a sexy muscled out fuck too. Felix was so totally right (not that Felix is ever wrong you know i mean duh!) that all that hair on my body was looking dumb and trashy and messy. The pills and drugs have been helping of course. My hairs been falling out for weeks, from everywhere! Head, face, chest, legs, you name it. Started shaving too, all over. It takes forever but damn my skin feels so fuckin good when it’s done, all smooth and shit. Fuck, I get done shavin my crack and slip my fingers in there in fuck myself, thinkin about Felixs big cock and how much I want him inside me

All the fuckin time now, ya gotta believe me. I swear I get there ready to workout and we fuck. We do some cardio we fuck. We lift, we fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, gettin’ my nub hard as we fuckin speak thinkin about it. I tried to tell Felix it shouldn’t be this small (its like three inches or something and my balls are smaller too) but he just told me not to worry about it. That small cocks on big guys are really sexy to him, and if he thinks its sexy then I should agree with him of course! I mean, I stare at myself a lot (alot a lot, I mean, all the fuckin time) but thats the one thing that just bugs me still I guess. Still nothing to do about it! Anyway gotta do my homeowrk and then head over there for todays training, and this big dildo won’t fuck itself.

Something…odd’s been going on with my roommate, Titus, lately. We were getting along pretty well–he was an athlete but not too much of an asshole about it, and I was a pretty run-of-the-mill college student. Both of us were looking for girls, and he decided to rush a frat…but I wasn’t really that interested to be honest. The frat challenged him and a few other pledges to a panty raid on a sorority. I don’t know what happened, but the next morning I woke up and found him passed out, face down on his bed, in just a pair of the strangest looking underwear–a bit like a jock, made out of mesh. I saw the pouch when he rolled over–or I suppose, the lack of one. I could make out every vein on his cock–I blushed and covered him up, but ever since…

I think he might be gay, for one thing. I don’t have anything against fags, but it’s just…a surprise. He seemed so obsessed with women before, but I’ve caught him jacking off in our room to gay porn a few times now. His body is changing too–away from his stocky build to something a bit trimmer, his ass fuller, his body hair going away as well. He shaved off his goatee and trimmed his hair down, picked up a lisp–you see what I mean, right? It all started with that sorority, so…so I think I’m going to go over there, and find out what happened to my roommate.

Fuck, I have to stop this, I have to. I don’t remember what happened at that place–I just woke up in my room the next morning, wearing the nastiest pair of boxer briefs I’d ever seen. The crotch was stained and crusty with cum, they reeked of piss and musk…and I haven’t been able to take them off for days now–I can barely manage to get them down to piss and shit, and I have to cum in them…and I’ve been cumming a lot, thinking about…about Titus’s ass…

It’s right there–he’s not really asleep, he’s just…pretending. Needs…daddy to breed him good. 

No! No no no, I’m not some fucking daddy! I might look like I’m in my 40′s, and I have so much damn body hair now it’s not even funny, but I’m not a daddy, fuck those bitches…but I…I am so damn horny, and the boy’s ass is right there…

The boxers slip down, and my seven inch, uncut cock springs out, dribbling cum already. Maybe…just one fuck. Feel the boy’s hole one time, and we can both stop this damn charade. He don’t need no damn school, not when he can strip for a livin’, payin’ his daddy’s bills…fuck! He’s so damn tight! Yeah boy, moan for daddy–think I’ll be renting this hole out to a few of my friends tonight!

“What do you think, MoJo? You wanna work out some more?” the man smirked at the huge brute, finishing a set at the gym.

“please, I’m tired, I just wanna go home…” MoJo said, “and stop…calling me MoJo, it’s not my name?”

“Oh? Then what is your name? If you can give me another name, a true name, this will all be over. Then again, you can’t, can you? Because I have your name now, which means I get to call you whatever I want.”

MoJo still didn’t understand how this had happened. He’d been downtown, and seen a couple of faggots kissing outside a bar, and chucked a rock at them. Konked one on the head, and then this other guy had been next to him, asking him for his name, and then…and then this! He looked down at himself, unable to believe how big he’d become in just a few hours. He looked like a freak!

“Well, if you really want to stop, we can work on something else, MoJo. I think you’re looking like a proper musclefag anyway.”

“I’m not a musclefag!” MoJo fumed, “Not a fag at all…”

“No?” the man said, “I’m calling you a musclefag. Empty headed, musclefag MoJo, all brawn and no brains, but wouldn’t hurt a fly–you’re too good of a guy for that. More interested in finding some guy to plow one of your holes anyway, though you’ll always stand up for a fag in trouble, right?”

MoJo was shaking his head, but it was emptying out father than he could understand. The guy was right, after all. He’d been called a musclefag all his life, and they were right. He was muscles, and he was a fag! What else could he be? “I don’…” he started to say, but lost his train of thought almost immediately. “Fuck, I’m horny–wanna fuck my ass?”

“Only if I can fuck it right here, where anyone can see you through those windows.”

MoJo nodded dumbly–he was happy for a fuck or a suck anywhere. He bent over the bench and the man yanked down his shorts, sliding into his well used hole, and MoJo sighed, wondering if he could get back to the club before it closed, and find a few other guys willing to plow a dumb musclefag like him before the night was over.

Source: real-thick

Miles didn’t know how everything had gone so wrong. It had seemed easy enough a task–Sonja had made him promise that he would lose fifty pounds before her sister’s wedding, as soon as they’d received the invitation nine months prior. It was going to be his first time meeting most of her extended family, and he did want to make a good impression, of course. But…he’d also never been very good at the whole diet and exercise thing. And so he’d turned to a slightly sketchy corner of the internet, which one of Sonja’s uncles recommended for him, through her. The pill promised that he could eat as much as he wanted, and he’d shed weight no matter what. It seemed like too good to be true, but supposedly he’d had great success with it. He added the pills to his diet…but not long after, he’d started to backslide.

He’d take the pills, and he’d be…ravenous afterwards. He’d do his best to only eat healthy stuff, but it didn’t seem to matter. He was packing on weight faster than ever before in his life. Sonja was furious–when he tried to tell her it was the pills, she refused to believe him. After all, they’d worked for her uncle! Was he calling her uncle a liar? They fought more and more, and he kept taking the pills, and by the time the wedding rolled around, he had to buy a whole new wardrobe for his now 450 pound body. They hadn’t had sex in months…and if he was being honest, she…just wasn’t that attractive anymore for some reason. 

The wedding was beautiful, but his relationship was a disaster. He couldn’t wait to get to the reception so he could get drunk off his ass and stuff his face. He saw Sonja hitting on one of the bridesgrooms, and they disappeared together–she made sure he saw. He tried to care, he really did, but he was just so…hungry. Food first. beer first. Then he could figure out what to do about that. 

“You must be Miles–Sonja told me quite a bit about you, boy.”

He looked over, and bellying up to the buffet was a huge man, at least 200 pounds heavier than he was. Miles just gaped, his cock hardening. He’d…started to notice that big men were turning him on, but he’d been trying to ignore it. But this fucker…he was salivating, and not for food. “H-Hi…” he stammered, wiping a sweaty hand on his pants to shake the mans hand, “I’m…here with Sonja.”

“Oh, I know. I’m Sonja’s Uncle. Those pills worked mighty fine, I must say.” He stepped closer, their fat sides pressing into each other, “Fill up that plate boy–I wanna see you eat. And then you’re coming to my hotel. Been needing a tight, chubby hole for my cock, and yours will do just fine…be even better once we pack another few hundred pounds on that wide ass of yours.”

Source: emkay202

Here at R.V. Wink’s Furniture Outlet, we pride ourselves on having not only great deals, but the most comfy sofas, loveseats, armchairs and beds in town! Goodness, they’re so comfortable, almost everyone who sits or lays on one finds themselves losing the will to get out, and not too long after that, they tend to drift off. Almost everyday, it seems like the most common sound on the sales floor is the snores! But I do love helping out my customers, why, just take a look at him. 

He’d come in here this morning, some wealthy college kid looking to furnish his new condo his parents are renting while he’s going to school. He kept sneering at my wares as I led him around the floor, telling me that my furniture was decades out of style, and not in a classy, retro way. I did eventually cajole him into an armchair, and he’s been snoozing his life away for hours now. What do you think he is, 40? 50? At least. Well, he’s still probably a bit older than you are now. I see that you’re gotten used to that big gut of yours now. How does it feel, when I rub it like that? Yeah, that’s good, moan for me gramps, you fucking love it, just like I knew you would.

Still, I think it’s time for an afternoon nap, don’t you?

Oh don’t shake your head at me, your eyes are drooping at the mere thought. There’s a king size bed right over here, why don’t you lay down for a bit? Take off those clothes of yours, they’ll just make you uncomfortable–that’s it, doesn’t that feel so soft? So relaxing? Now hold on, I’m sure you’d rather have a teddy bear to snooze with right? Let me just get him out of the chair…

Oh look at you, already slipping off to sleep again. Now you too–go crawl in with your husbear–don’t be silly, of course you have a husbear? Cuddle up close now, give him a big hug–feel how good that gut of his feels? By the time you wake up, you’ll have one yourself. A couple adorable grandbears–my favorite kind of customer. Now close those eyes and have another nap–when you wake up, I’m sure you’ll find the furniture more you’re style, don’t you?

Subway (Sketch)

Officer Hugo Mason had been with the city police department for close to ten years, and in that time, he’d always been highly respected by his fellow officers and superiors, enough so that his occasional fag bashings, both in and out of uniform, were usually overlooked and shoved under the rug by the rest of the department. After all, none of them liked faggots–although none of them disliked them nearly as much as Hugo did. Whether it was from a position deep within a closet of his own, or simply lashing out at a particular target, he was merciless either way. He was never quite certain, in the thick of what happened, whether it had been coincidence or some grand scope of cosmic revenge that it was him that ended up on the subway, alone in that car, that late at night. All he could really be certain of was that something strange had happened to him–though in the immediate aftermath, even he hadn’t been quite sure what it was.

It had been a late shift and he was on his way home–that time of night, there were never many people on the subway, but being alone in a car–that was rare enough that generally everyone notices when it happens, and the sensation is always eerie. A place  which was usually so full of people–you realize just how large and small the space is at the same time. Hugo once heard a story of someone hyperventilating while alone in a car. It was probably just an urban legend, but sitting there by himself, the tunnel roaring along outside, he could understand how it could do that to a certain kind of person.

It was a decent distance to the next stop, long enough for him to notice–and the lights in the car flickered once, then again, and plunged him into momentary darkness, before coming back alive. The car had never stopped moving, but when he looked around, after the darkness, he say that he was no longer alone in the car. Down towards the other end, standing, holding onto the upper rail, was a sizable man–well, a sizable faggot, by the look of him. He was clad all in some sick, leather mockery of the uniform he wore during the day, and that alone made Hugo furious. Those faggots–was nothing sacred to them? Or was everything just some…disgusting target for their filth? Did faggots see him like that? Is that why they were always looking at him? Because they wanted something like that?

He stood up, the lights flickering again as he did, the train swaying and keeping him off balance. “Hey! Faggot! What the fuck thinks you have the right to wear something like that?” The man did nothing, didn’t even look at him, like he wasn’t even there. “Hey! Hey fucker, I’m fucking talking to you!”

He stalked towards him. The lights cut again, and when the lights came back up–there was no one there. He looked around, confused–the lights cut again, this time longer, and then came back after a few seconds–the man inches from his face–Hugo staring right into his eyes, smelling his hot breath, tinged with cigar smoke, and Hugo…he felt different. He…he was different. He was cold–his shirt and pants were gone, replaced by a harness and leather shorts…and a collar, which the man grabbed him by, pulling him into a kiss. Hugo knew he should be disgusted, but all he could think was how much he wanted him, wanted this man, wanted to be with him. The train was slowing down as they kissed, and came to a halt. The man stepped away, and asked, “Coming, boy?” He left the train without waiting for a reply.

Hugo crept to the doorway and looked out at the empty station–a station he didn’t recognize from the route. It was…somewhere else. The man walked off and disappeared up a staircase–something in him ached to follow him, but the terror was greater–the door slipped shut again, and started up, the lights flickering off, and he was left standing there again, his old self, the taste of the stranger still on his lips, which he licked. His cock achingly hard in his pants–so hard that he was able to whip it out and jack off onto the seat beside him before the train reached it’s next station–his station, so he could get off, legs shaking, trying to grapple with what he’d just experienced, what he’d just felt, the certainty that soon, very soon, he’d have to feel like that again.

The Power of Reality – Preview (Part 2)

The continuation of “The Power of Belief”, featuring the further rise and eventual fall of Professor Larson, is up on Patreon for everyone contributing five dollars or more a month. You can find the download link here if you’re a contributor. It’s quite long, and I’ll be posting the first few chunks of the story here on tumblr, but if you want to read the whole thing, Patreon is the only place to find it (for now).

It worked–the watch had worked. The high frequency signal allowed him to change beliefs in subjects while they were conscious–so long as he could be persuasive enough. It had required a bit more power than he would have liked, to get Aaron to go along with his desires, and he checked the power supply as he walked down the hall to Professor Hubert’s office–the current chair of the department. Over half a battery left–plenty, if he was efficient. Of course, the persuasion was only part of what he needed–the other was authority. The more social capital he had, the easier it would be to realize his desired reality, and that was why Professor Hubert needed to retire–so that Professor Larson could become the new department chair. He knocked on the door, and Professor Hubert shouted “Come in!” Professor Larson opened the door and slipped inside, shutting it behind him.

Professor Hubert looked exhausted—then again, why wouldn’t he be? He was in the midst of a rather nasty divorce. Professor Larson had felt guilty about that–his wife had been one of his earlier test subjects, and Hubert hadn’t been allowed home in weeks, forcing him to sleep in his office. But that gave Professor Larson the opening he needed, and weakened his opponent in one move–now, he just had to give things a little stronger push. “How are you doing, Eddie?”

“How do you think I’m doing?” Eddie Hubert replied, rubbing his eyes.

“She still won’t even talk to you?”

He shook his head. “I just don’t understand. She won’t even tell me why!”

“Well, I heard that she just wants to save you the embarrassment of anyone finding out, you know?”

Hubert looked at him in a funny way. “What?”

“You don’t have to play coy with me, Hubert. I just don’t know why you never told me we play for the same team.”

It was obvious that Eddie still had no idea what his colleague was talking about. Harold rolled his eyes, came around his desk, and started opening a series of folders he’d created on Eddie’s computer a few days earlier, “Cynthia told me all about it,” he said, making sure the watch was close to Hubert’s ear, watching his eyes glaze over slightly, “about your stash, about the kind of thing you’re really looking for.”

He opened the last folder, revealing a huge stockpile of photos. Photos of men, all kinds of men–young and old, fat and thin, from all walks of life. There was just one similarity between all of them–the size of their cocks. The shortest was nine inches, any number of them looked like they’d been morphed larger than humanly possible.

“That’s not…mine. I don’t know…”

“You don’t have to deny it, Eddie. I know your secret, but I won’t tell anyone. I just wish I had known sooner. You can’t blame Cynthia for being a bit embarrassed–no wonder you haven’t ever been able to perform with her, when the only thing that gets you hard is a huge cock.”

It couldn’t be true. He loved his wife. Sure, he’d had a hard time performing sometimes, but this…no, it couldn’t be true…could it? One of his hands was in his lap, and his cock was hard. Why would his cock be hard if he wasn’t turned on by what he was looking at? Being gay wasn’t something to be ashamed of, just like Harold was saying. He shouldn’t be ashamed of what he wanted. He started stroking his cock, while Harold kept talking, looking through his collection, his own, two inch cock, hard at the thought of some of these monsters he was looking at. Thinking about trying to take them down his throat, and up his ass. He didn’t notice the knock on the door, but Harold went over and opened it while he kept jacking off, Aaron stepping inside, a bit nervous, seeing Professor Hubert jacking off openly, but Harold assured him everything was fine.

“Now Eddie, I know that you could use a pick-me-up, and I just happened to have a student with just the sort of thing you’re interested in, right Aaron? Go on, show Professor Hubert here what you’re packing, boy.”

Aaron looked at the older, fat professor. “Are…Are you sure?”

“Come on Aaron, I know you aren’t shy–you love showing off your big cock.”

He did like it, now that he thought about it, and he dropped his pants, revealing his ten inch cock, which he stroked until it was hard. Professor Hubert’s jaw dropped at the sight, and he kept playing with his puny cock.

“Now Aaron, you like to fuck, right? Anyone with a cock that big has to love fucking.”

“Yes, Professor, I love fucking.”

“I bet a young man like you, I bet you don’t even care what you fuck, right? As long as it’s a hole?”

Aaron nodded, but it was hard paying attention, now that his cock was hard.

“Eddie, I bet you have a hole for Aaron to use, don’t you? I bet getting fucked by his huge cock would improve your mood quite a bit.”Professor Hubert was two steps ahead of him; he was already up, dropping his trousers, and coming around the desk, bending over it, presenting his hole to Aaron.

“Come on boy, show my hole what you can do with that huge cock of yours.”

They fucked for as long as the battery in Larson’s watch lasted, Aaron blasting load after load of cum into the professor’s hole, and Harold spent his time talking to both of them, telling them that they both loved how they other made them feel, that they couldn’t wait to fuck again, that they needed each other more than anything, and most importantly, that they couldn’t tell anyone about their budding relationship–well, aside from Harold, of course. In fact, he made sure that each of them would want to come by his office regularly, to discuss what was happening to them.

He couldn’t resist making a few additional changes to them, of course. By the time Aaron left the office, he’d put on quite a bit more body hair and grown a full beard, not to mention lost a large amount of his IQ. Still, Harold didn’t want him smart–the stupider he was, the easier it would be to keep him under his thumb. Eddie Hubert, on the other hand, finished up quite a bit fatter, and quite a bit older than he had been, with his hole plugged by a dildo, his one inch cock unable to get hard, but he happily sucked a load of cum from his colleague’s own massive cock once his student boyfriend had left the room. Things were going perfectly, and once he was finished, Larson left and headed home to recharge his watch, and watch the video he’d recorded of the two of them fucking. In a few weeks time, he had a feeling Eddie and Aaron wouldn’t be at the school any longer, but that didn’t bother Harold–sometimes you had to ruin a few lives to get ahead, right?

The Fetish Gun (Part 1)

The life of a lowly intern–first into the office, and nearly always the last to leave–it was well into night by the time Wade freed himself from his menial work, packed some things up in his briefcase, and started the walk home. It was friday night and the streets were busy–he had to pass through a hub of bars and small concert venues to get to his apartment, and while he always imagined on Fridays that he’d just go straight from the office to the bar, he was almost always too tired to do much beyond walk home and fall into bed–he could always go have some fun on Saturday night, right? Miranda had seemed to enjoy their last date–maybe he’d give her a call and see if she wanted to go out, if he wasn’t too tired. Fuck, twenty-five, and he already sounded like he was middle aged.

He turned into an alley which cut between a brick wall and the back of a small nightclub…though the clientele seemed a bit strange tonight. Usually there were a few straight couples smoking out back, talking quietly, but as he walked down, he saw that the small crowd was all men, and they seemed to be especially…fetishy. Leather, rubber, guys on their hands and knees in dog masks. It was almost enough to convince him to turn around, but there was no reason he couldn’t skirt the edge, right? He moved around the group, and felt everyone…staring at him. As he tried to escape the crowd around him, someone inside shouted, “Hey Greg! There’s one, out back.”

Some odd light covered Wade’s body for a moment, holding him in place, and then it was gone a second later. He stopped, trying to figure out what had just happened…and why he was so much colder all of a sudden. He looked down at himself and quickly saw why–he was nearly naked. The suit he’d been wearing (Suit? Had he been wearing a suit? It seemed…hard to imagine, him in a suit…) had simply disappeared, and in its place he was wearing a leather bulldog harness, a leather jockstrap, and two boots–nothing more. He gawked at himself, and then looked at everyone else around him–their eyes…some looked at him eagerly, but others…it looked like pity, or maybe just resignation.

“Did I get him?”

“Fuck yeah, your aim is impeccable.”

“Oh please, it’s just the guidance system, but thanks anyway.”

Two men emerged from the club, both of them nearly six and a half feet tall, heavily muscled, and wearing identical black leather uniforms. The men standing around and smoking all ducked back into the club almost immediately, aside from a few who hung back, and Wade tried to figure out what he had been doing. He’d been going home, right? Or…or had he been in the club…this whole time? He felt rather uncomfortable, his body bared for these two men. He wasn’t in very good shape–or rather, he had almost no shape at all–and the harness did nothing to hide it. He wasn’t exactly fat–though he did have a bit of a potbelly. More, he just looked like he spent his days behind a desk, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He also wasn’t sure how he felt about the men in front of him…he’d never felt much attraction towards men, but suddenly…looking at these two huge muscle gods, he’d never felt this horny in his whole life.

“How’s the ratio in there?”

“I’d say make him a sub,” the other replied, and lifted up the strange looking gun he had in his hand, adjusting some of the knobs on the side, “Can always use more subs, right? Any preference?”

“Eh, surprise me.”

Before Wade could ask what was going on, the man pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger–the same light enveloping him as before, and disappeared a moment later–leaving him mostly the same, but with…several differences. His…physique, for one thing, and gone through a remarkable improvement. It looked like he had spent hours in the gym, bulking and building muscle–but with a sudden loss of height, he’d become a stout fireplug. Unfortunately, as he’d grown bigger, his cock had shrunk to a nub, while his balls had exploded in size, each nearly as large as a lemon, forcing the jockstrap to bulge out. With a grunt, unable to control himself, Wade dropped to his knees, the man with the gun releasing his seven inch cock from his pants. Wade felt drool immediately start flowing from his mouth, and he walked forward on his knees and swallowed it to the hilt.

“Nice muscle pig.”

“Thanks–he’s got a very nice mouth too. But try squeezing his balls.”

The other man knelt down, reach down and gave Wade’s sack a squeeze–immediately Wade felt a series of spasms and grunts wrack its way through him, his tiny cock releasing a massive amount of cum right into his jock.

“Dang, that’s pretty sensitive man–like, what would happen if I did…this?” He stood up again, and delivered a solid kick right to Wade’s massive balls with his boot.

It hurt–it hurt so much that he crumpled to the ground away from the cock he’d been sucking and curled up on the ground, but the pain eased away and pleasure took over–his cock pumping out blast after blast of cum for half a minute, his seed soaking and overflowing the jock he had on until it formed a puddle on the pavement beneath him as he shivered, grunted and groaned.

“He could go further though.”

“What would you suggest?”

“How about a complete pain pig? Piercings, tattoos.”

“I could see that, but what if we–”

He had to get out of here. he had to get away from these guys, but even if he did, he’d just be trapped like this…wouldn’t he? Wade took a few deep breaths–the men were still talking…or plotting, rather, what to do to him. The man’s grip on the gun was loose, and a plan formed in his mind. He rolled over slowly, to his knees, and as quick as he could, grabbed the gun from the man’s hand, and before either of them could stop him, he fired the gun at them both, watching their nuts swell in their pants–perfect targets. While they both gawked at their crotches, he pummeled each of them into submission, until they were sobbing on the ground, their cocks pumping cum into their pants, and then he took off running as fast as he could towards home, gun in hand–praying he could figure out how to fix what they’d done to him.