Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 8)

“Please, no more, don’t…I don’t, get off me!” Ken shouted, trying to force the men swarming him away, but there were too many.

“Can we make him a top sir? Can we?”

“We need more tops, so many holes, not enough tops!”

Some of them were holding him down at this point, looking up at the Master of the Halls, and his shadowed face, and those leering teeth. “Sure, why don’t you all make him a top, since it sounds like you need one so badly.”

The freaks all laughed and tittered, and one of them brought over a strange sheath. It looked a bit like a dildo at first, but Ken saw that it was in fact hollow inside, and the freaks started working his cock until he was hard, and then they forced the sheath over his entire cock. It was a tight fit, and once they had that on, they took a similar sheath, pulled it open, forced his balls inside, and let that snap around them as well. Only then, did they release his arms, and Ken immediately tried to pull the rubber things off of him–only to discover that they wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t that the rubber pieces had stuck together–though they had–it was that they had stuck to him as well. He couldn’t find the seam where the rubber started and his flesh began, and as he tugged on the sheath, he realized…he could feel his hand against it, growing more and more sensitive, until he was moaning in pleasure, unable to stop, he was so turned on by the sensations coming from his new rubber cock, now permanently hard, eleven inches and thick as a beer can. His balls were churning as well, and he could feel them pumping something not out of his cock, but into him instead, and he began to feel some of the other changes start in his body.

He was growing taller, and thicker. Not fat–almost all of it was muscle. In a matter of moments, he went from a fairly average height and build to being six foot seven, and nearly 300 pounds, all of it thick, corded, powerful bulk, ready to force anyone he found into submission. He was growing hairier as well, especially across his chest, arms and back. Once he was finished expanding, the freaks went back to work, and started forcing more gear on his body–a thick cut leather harness, a pair of leather chaps, some biker boots, and lastly a hood that went over his face. He tried to pull it away, but it too had adhered to his skin somehow, and when he looked at himself in the mirror across the room, he no longer even recognized himself. 

He was massive, his head and cock both sealed away in rubber, conforming to his every feature and vein, but somehow making them look even more masucline, and tough, and rugged, and violent, and…and fuck, he was hot, wasn’t he? He kept stroking his cock, and from the tip, some sort of strange, black, viscous material began to leak out and cover his hands–it quickly spread over his fingers and became a pair of black rubber gloves, just as impossible to remove as the mask or the sheath itself.

Horrified, he pulled his hand away, but his cock was aching for attention. No, not just attention, it was aching to fuck, to force its way inside some tight hole and ruin it–that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? He looked at himself, and tried to remember who he’d been, but the hood…was sucking it away from him, as hard as he was trying to keep it. He might have been lost to it, had the imp not appeared in the doorway, eyes wide at him, and then taken off down the hallway. With a growl, Ken pushed past the freaks and took off after him, thankful for his new size now. The imp was quick, but he was bigger now–if he stayed focused, he’d be able to catch him, and maybe even get his tag back.


So, what happens next? The public poll is below, and the patron only poll is over here!

Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 7)

“You really are quite handsome you know, it’s a shame I can’t take you with me,” the imp said as he fucked Ken’s hole in the dark room, “but someone is going to have to stay here and take my place with all of these freaks. You won’t mind that though, will you?”

“No Sir!” Ken cried, “Just…just please, don’t stop fucking me, please…”

“Yes, that is a good idea, I would like a memento of some sort, after all. I wasn’t quite sure what, but I think I know exactly what I’d like to take with me.”

The imp pulled himself free of Ken’s hole, making the man gasp in need. He pulled something new out, a little bottle of something like lube, and started squirting it all over Ken’s body. “Rub that in for me, my little slave. This will help you be a bit more…flexible, and I don’t want to touch it myself.”

Ken did as he was commanded, and rubbed the strange substance all over his body–down to his feet and his toes, massaged it into his cock, all over his head and hair, even fingering himself with it, and coating the inside of his mouth–being sure to swallow a little too. It felt…gummy and rubbery at first, almost like a thick silicone lube, but it absorbed into his body, and after it did, his skin felt…strange. Hot for a moment, but then…well, he didn’t quite know how to describe the sensation at all. 

When the imp was sure it was dry, he decided to give it a test–he reached around the base of Ken’s cock and balls with his fingers, and started tightening them into a ring. It didn’t…hurt, really, but it was oddly uncomfortable. Ken could see his entire cock and balls pulling free of his body, just a strand of flesh connecting them–and then they came away in the imp’s hands. Ken could somehow still…feel them, which was even more disconcerting, as the imp turned his cock and balls over, gave his shaft a stroke, making Ken shudder in confusion. “Hmmm…I think I need one more thing though, if I’m going to keep fucking you. Roll over Slave.”

Ken did, one hand going to his now nullified crotch, confused by the smooth, rubbery skin there instead, wondering what exactly his Master was going to do to him now. The imp did the same thing around Ken’s asshole, pulling it off of his body entirely, and sticking it to the root of Ken’s cock and balls–then, while Ken rolled back over, the imp slid his cock into Ken’s rubbery hole, and he moaned in delight. He could feel the imp’s cock sliding deep into not just his ass, but inside his cock as well–it was…fuck, he’d never felt anything like it before in his life.

“There, that’s a nice gift for me, Slave. When I’m living your life for you, I’ll be sure to use your hole and cock often, to make sure you know I’m thinking about you in here. For now though, why don’t we make you fit in with this monstrous place a little more?” the imp cackled, and started working Ken’s body under his hands, pulling and twisting and stealing and stretching him into all sorts of new shapes, until he found one he liked most.

Ken’s head was forced into his body entirely, his arms twisted and warped until they were another set of arms and feet like the others. He could now only walk around on all fours–though slowly, because both sets of feet were pointed away from each other. Where his head had been, was now his mouth–his teeth pulled out like little rubber plugs, and his tongue grown to insane proportions. It hung from his gaping mouth now almost a foot, and was fully prehensile–and covered with drool.

For his other end, the imp had to improvise, and built a second hole out of his nose–two gaping, hairy cavities perfect for fucking–or whatever else the strange beasts of this place would use him for. The imp shifted one eye to each end, so he could mostly see where he was going–and then added an ample supply of hair all over his new form, making him look more like some hairy beast than the man he once was. Ken wanted to thank his master, but could no longer speak–so he ate out the imp’s hole with his long tongue while his Master fucked his new toy, making Ken shudder and grunt until his cock sprayed cum all over the floor–but then, it was time for the imp to leave.

Ken still wanders the halls, though he no longer has a name. He’s just another freak among many, always looking for bodies to service, relishing those moments when he feels the imp’s hands around his cock, his cock sliding into his hole–happy that he can still be of service to his Master.

An End


Alright, that one was a bit shorter, so we have time for one more! Here’s some options on spots to restart from, some are the same as last time, some are different! Here’s the bonus poll for Patrons too.

Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 5)

“I know you probably won’t appreciate this, pig, but let me tell you–from my own experience, it will be better this way,” the imp said, and jumped back up to the ceiling, pulled a lever, and a few moments later, the taste and consistency of the mash flowing into his mouth…changed. The taste was vile–musky and rank and dirty and…and delicious. He panicked, trying to keep from swallowing the filth, but the tube forced itself deeper into him, and he had to choice as it was pumped directly into his guts. 

“See, that first Halloween, no one…destroyed me. I had to survive here, my mind witnessing everything in this darkness, all year long. It was horrifying. No one should have to go through what I did. This is better. Better to just be what you’re going to be, don’t you think? Give in, never have to worry about that old life of yours? Just let yourself be the dirty, shameful, disgusting pig you were meant to be, from the moment you stepped in here.”

Ken was still struggling, but he could feel it. The filth was…warping him. He could distingish some of the flavors now–piss from the urinals, cum from the dumps, mud and muck from the floors washed down the drains, the tang of shit even, at the back of his throat. He wasn’t getting fatter, but something else was happening, he could…smell himself, and it was the same heady musky of the filth being pumped into him. He stank of a toilet, and a filthy sock, and a cumsoaked armpit, all at the same time, and…and he loved it. His mind was fading, shifting. He was oinking and squealing, his cock leaking all over the floor beneath him. The surface of his latex clad body was changing as well, the rubber growing…moist. Not with sweat, but with some vile, slick scum–a goo seeping ring out from his rubber pores and sliding down his skin and onto the floor under him.

“Don’t worry piggy–all you have to do is cum, and the hose will release you. The sooner you embrace it, the more of a mind you’ll have left–so I suggest you start working that piggy cock into that fat of yours quickly. I, however, have a party to leave–and a new lease on life. Enjoy it–maybe I’ll pay you a visit next year.”

The imp was gone, leaving the pig all alone in the cage, swallowing down the muck, grinding his cock mindlessly between his gut and the floor for a few minutes until he came, squealing in delight at the mess he was making, at the filthy mess he was. He wasn’t…the same, as he squeezed out of the cage. The muck he’d been dropping wasn’t just…coming from him, it was him, he was made of that same filth, his pig face slumping and drooling off him as he walked, reforming again as he lost bits of himself to the floor, in a trail of black slime as he crawled into the room, sniffing and snorting for filth he could devour, hungrier than he could have ever imagined being in his life.

“Hello? Hello!”

He looked up at the sound of a voice, as a young man, somehow still in his black attire from the party, stumbled around the corner. He was missing his clothes tag, took one look at the nightmarish rubber pig in front of him, and froze. Before he could do anything, however, Ken was on him, his gooey body sticking to the man’s flesh as he screamed, dragging him down, eating away at his clothes, while Ken’s cock, the last firm thing left on his body, starting probing for the man’s hole. He was screaming, so Ken covered his mouth in goo, the substance hardening quickly, the man’s mouth now covered by a patch of black rubber that melded seamlessly with his skin, only able to breathe through his nose.

“So…hungry…” Ken grunted in the man’s ear, as he fucked him, and as he did, his body began to lose…shape, flowing down around the man, engulfing him slowly into Ken’s own form. The man’s body, warped by the filth, was beginning to lose firmness as he was sucked into the pig, Ken’s cock drilling deeper and deeper until it forced it’s way out the other side of the man’s body, through his own cock, the man shuddering in something like an orgasm as he felt the monster’s filth begin to dissolve and eat away at his body, absorbing him into the pig as a new part of him, his mind locked away with Ken’s, forever trapped inside this monstrous, rubber beast eager to devour anything in sight.

Then, it was four o’clock, and the lights shut off. Trapped in the dark, with only the other monsters for company. Until next year at least–and by this, this pig would be starving.

–An Ending–

Alright, let’s go back and pick up the story somewhere else! Here’s some options. A few are new, and one is a popular path that didn’t get picked from this last little chunk. The bonus poll for Patrons is over here as well!

Interactive: A Pigtown Halloween (Part 1)

The invitation caught Ken by surprise that day, a couple of weeks before Halloween. These days, you never got stuff like this in the mail, after all, but there it was, in a clean white envelope, something that Ken had only ever assumed was rumour. An invitation to Pigtown’s Halloween Party.

Pigtown, of course, was the stuff of legend. It was a bar, that much Ken knew, but he’d heard so many different stories of the place from people, moving through the circles he did, and every story sounded a bit ridiculous to his ears. Still, people insisted the place actually existed–he’d even, on occasion, met a person of two brazen enough to claim that they themselves had gone through those doors and come out the other side to spin a tale of perversion and decadence and change unlike anything Ken had ever heard before.

What choice did he have? He had to go and see it for himself, of course.

He didn’t tell his friends what he was doing–the invitation had explicitly said not to bring guests–that the invitation was for one, and one only. Anyone bringing a guest along would not be allowed in, due to capacity concerns, allegedly. The other interesting note was that costumes would be provided, apparently–there was a mandatory clothes check, and costumes would be distributed at the door. Ken didn’t know what that might mean–maybe everyone was going to be wearing something similar? That did sound kind of hot–and thankfully he hadn’t spent anything on a costume for this year yet.

The day of the party arrived at last. He bailed on his prior commitments, blaming an alleged illness, and then made his way to the bar. There wasn’t an address, oddly enough–just a series of cryptic directions, most of them relying on landmarks, rather than street names. He got started on the trail early, not wanting to be late, but was rather confounded all afternoon–it wasn’t until dusk arrived, and the streets got dark, that the path started to make sense, weaving in and out of alleyways, into places of the city that Ken had never laid eyes on before, street names he no longer recognized. There were…people here, poking their way out from the dark, some of them human, others…well, they had to be human too, but something else was there as well, something hungry. Ken hesitated, turned around to go back, but found himself lost almost immediately, the men in the dark closing in on him, and he fled back, tracing the rest of the path to Pigtown. Apparently, once started, you had to see it to the conclusion.

There was a line at the door, but it moved quickly. The anteroom of the club was a locker room, all manners of men stripping down to nothing, packing their clothes into bags, and handing them off the employees at the club, getting numbers in return. When Ken handed his clothes off, the employee stressed that he make sure he hold onto his number–clothes were not returned without a valid number.

With that, they disappeared, and returned with a second bag, apparently with his costume. The bag was sealed, and had his name on the side, printed. Men weren’t allowed to change into their costumes there, however, for the sake of surprise–past the ante room, there was a hall with changing rooms on both sides. Men never reemerged from them, the sign on the door would just flip from red to green again. Ken entered one, heart pounding, and opened up his bag to find his costume on the inside–but was a bit disappointed. A black tanktop. A pair of tight black shorts. Socks and boots in his size. A small mask for his face, more like a masquerade than something frightening. There was no pocket for the clothes check tag, but he found that it was attached to a bracelet, like he’d gotten at bat houses before, that kept it secure around his upper arm. He pulled on the clothes, and then a second door opened, and he found himself in a throbbing room, full of men dancing–and sure enough, all of them were in the same dress as him, a sea of men in black tanks and shirts, masked, booted–it was quite the sight, actually…but was this really all? He’d expected…more, he supposed, from the stories, than just a nice rave. Still, the night was young.

He walked around the room, and saw a cluster of people around one end of the room. He jostled his way over there, and saw a wide doorway leading deeper into the complex, with caution tape strung across it. There was also a sign posted with a warning.

WARNING:

This is Halloween, after all, and Pigtown has some…well, some things only come out that this time of year, but isn’t that why you’re here? Some of what you might find deeper in the club will shock you, frighten you, or perhaps be something dredged from your deep nightmares. Of course, no harm can come to you forever, so long as you keep your clothes check tag! Don’t lose it in the dark–or you might never get back out…The party ends at four–if you aren’t back into your own clothes by then…well, some parties never end.

It was a good gag, he supposed. People were trickling in little by little, but he noticed no one seemed to be coming out–then again, it was early. He passed by the sign without paying it much heed, but he did check to make sure his tag was still on his arm. Beyond the sign though…things immediately got a bit…strange as he went deeper into the dark hallway. A wider variety of costumes for one thing, guys in leather and rubber, small and large, all of them moving through the dark–but it was the masks that caught him off guard. They had to be masks, right? No one could really look that…horrifying in person, of course not. He hurried through the hallway as quickly as he could, but was caught off guard when someone came up behind him, grabbed his tag, and yanked it down his arm and off him in one movement. 

“Hey!” Ken shouted at the short man, who turned around for a moment, laughing–his face like some deformed imp, or other nightmarish something. Then, the fellow raced off, deeper into the complex, and Ken hurried after him. The hallways kept branching, and he could hear…screams around him, or was that just people fucking and yelling in glee? It was unnerving in any case, but he had no choice but to find that little fucker and get his tag back. He passed a clock on the wall that said it was 11 pm–he had five hours to find that fuck and get out, before…well, he was suddenly thinking that the warning sign might have been a little more accurate than he wanted to think. He picked a path and drove deeper, only to find himself somewhere new.


Alright, so here’s how this one is going to work. Ken is going to be chasing the little demon through the complex, changing all the while, and trying to avoid getting caught inside Pigtown when the party is over. There are, of course, a wide variety of ways that Ken’s story can end–most of them not particularly good for Ken. I’m aiming for more of a horror vibe with this one, so some of the content might get weird along the way–fair warning. Each time we hit an ending of some sort, rather than start a new story, I’ll go back to previous branches that had been popular, and continue Ken’s story from there instead. Here’s the first poll! The patron bonus poll is over here as well!

The House Made Me Gay (Finale)

Phil went to the door and unlocked it, and in came a young man, probably in his mid twenties. He was…well, he didn’t look particularly clean, for one thing. He was chubby and greasy, his clothes covered in food stains–and probably more than a few cumstains, from the shape and placement. The young man ran over to where Ethan was strapped to the chair, cigar lodged in his mouth, and he looked extremely pleased. “Fuck man, he looks so fucking good! I knew you could do it.”

“I know it can’t really replace what you lost, but I think he’ll do you just fine.”

“No way man, I think he’s even better.”

The young man’s name was Josh, and since he was eighteen, he had been in love with his father. He’d learned how to be a dirty pervert from him, sitting around all day, jacking off, swapping cum and spit and piss–and sometimes, if they got a bit drunk, even more than that. But tragically, Josh’s father had passed away–a heart attack–the year before, though he’d left his son a sizable life insurance policy. A good chunk of that was now invested in Ethan–who was going to be Josh’s replacement slobby father.

Josh ran his hands over Ethan’s massive cock, watching the older man shudder, his eyes fearful, and Josh…felt bad for a moment, but he was so turned on by the man Phil had created–and he knew that, before too long, his new daddy would love him just as much as his old one had. He went around and gave him a sniff–and wrinkled his nose. “He smells too clean still.”

“I was going to wait on that until you got here. He still needs a few more tatts before he’s really done,” Phil said, “But first–you still want those rings we talked about?”

“Oh hell yeah!” Josh said, “That sounded so hot.”

“Alright–then let’s get those in you both first.”

Phil worked quickly. With a box of matched rings, he quickly pierced both of them in the septum, in both their nipples. “That’s all we need to start, I think,” Phil said, “Why don’t you climb on and give daddy’s cock a ride boy? Then we can see how those work while I finish daddy up.”

Ethan struggled as Josh climbed up, and started lowering his ass down onto his massive cock. Josh’s first daddy had always loved opening up his son’s hole over the course of an afternoon, before sliding in his fists–but his cock had always been too small to really fuck his son. This new daddy though–he was going to be perfect in every way. Josh groaned as he felt his hole open around Ethan’s massive cock, taking it slow–but Ethan’s cum was the perfect lube now, helping stretch the boy’s hole. When he was halfway on, Phil took the cigar from Ethan’s mouth, and Josh leaned forward–Ethan heard the click of their septum piercings–and Josh kissed him, the boy’s rank mouth tasting of beer and cigarettes. He tried to pull away, but felt a tug on his nose when he did–their piercings had…merged. Josh leaned in closer, pressing their chests together, and their nipples stuck in the same way–Josh was now impaled on his cock, and latched to him, slowly sliding lower onto his massive cock, as Ethan panicked.

“Calm down now,” Phil said, as he got his tattoo needle ready again, “They come apart once you both cum. Just enjoy being close to your son, Ethan.”

“He’s not my son!” Ethan shouted through Josh’s mouth, and Phil just smiled, and got started on his arm, quickly sketching out a classic heart with “My Son” in the middle–and an arrow through it–or a cock, really, a cock spewing cum and piss down the rest of his arm. Josh could…feel this ink differently. Each little prick seemed to shift something in his mind, and as it took form…he found he could remember Josh–because Josh was…his son. His real son, and he…he loved him so much, didn’t he? Josh moaned, his ass now resting on the base of Ethan’s massive cock. “Fuck son, dadd’s so fuckin’ proud of you!” he said into Jason’s mouth between kisses. “Ride daddy’s big tool boy–I wanna see that hole gape.”

“Oh daddy…I…I missed you so much,” Josh moaned, and started sliding up and down on his new daddy’s cock, both of them kissing more passionately and Phil kept working, moving over to his other arm now. First, some lettering at the top of the shoulder– “Months Since Daddy’s Last Shower:”–and then below it, Phil started making hash marks, and after each one, Ethan started getting dirtier, and dirtier, and dirtier, as his memories of showers, of any hygiene really, faded further and further into the past. It…His son had wanted him to stop bathing, he said he wanted to see just how nasty his daddy could be. So they’d agreed on a tattoo to…to keep track. But that had been…months, no a year, no two years, no…no almost five years ago now, right? The hash marks ran down the outside of his arm, almost to his wrist–marking off four and a half years since his last shower–and Ethan stank to high heaven of musk, and smoke, and cum, and piss–but it was only driving Josh into a frenzy. With a roar, Ethan came, flooding his boy’s hole with his massive load of cum, feeling it drain out around his cock and into his lap–and that was enough for Josh to cum as well, shooting a much smaller load all over his daddy’s belly. They kept kissing for a moment, and then pulled apart–their rings separating again like magic.

“Fuck man, you…really outdid yourself. He’s fucking perfect,” Josh said to Phil, cum running down the inside of his legs. “Really…I know…I paid, but I…”

“It’s ok–what you had was special, and I’m happy I could give it to you again.”

“T-Thanks…we talked about some other stuff, can we…”

Phil laughed. It’s been a long day for your dad in that chair–why don’t you take him home for a while? When he comes in next month for his update–we can talk then, alright? I might even do those pro bono–you two are fucking hot to watch.”

Josh beamed, went over, and undid the straps holding his father to the chair, and Ethan stumbled up out of it, trying to figure out what, and who he was. Josh got him dressed in some of his filthy whities and a scummy tanktop crispy with cum, and then pulled his daddy out of the shop and to their little truck. By the time they got home to their little stinking trailer, Ethan was feeling almost normal again–that, and he was already horny as hell for his son’s hole. Josh was only too happy to ride his dad’s massive cock again of course–and by morning, neither of them could remember that their lives had ever been different from this.

Danny’s Bad Day

The day had not gotten off to a good start for Danny. He’d woken up late, struggled to get himself together on time, and now was just making it to the gym a half an hour after he had agreed to meet Matt there for their workout together. Knowing him, he’d probably gotten started, and now Danny would have to catch up or get left behind again. He pushed his way into the gym, and as he did, he felt…something odd. He didn’t quite know how to describe it, actually, like there was some strange film in the doorway, something he’d pushed through that was more than air. The sensation was gone in a moment, but as the door shut behind him, he realized he couldn’t hear the traffic or the sounds of people in the street outside the building, and the sounds coming from inside the gym didn’t seem normal either. 

He stepped up to the desk to sign in, and saw that someone he didn’t recognize was sitting there. Usually one of the owners of the gym, Sven or Taylor, were at the desk, greeting people as they entered, but today there was a tall, lithe fellow sitting in the chair, wearing a polo shirt, and looking friendly. Still, Danny didn’t have time or a desire to chat with a stranger, not when he was already running late, so he just scanned himself in, as the man said hi, and tried to introduce himself. Danny knew it was rude to just ignore him…but if he ended up working here for a while, there would be plenty of chances for them to get to know each other soon enough. Danny knew what it was like to be ignored anyway–and he kind of relished the opportunity to turn the tables on someone, especially someone as tall as this fellow, who was easily an inch or two over six feet tall.

Danny, on the other hand, was short. Very short. Five foot, two inches short. He was used to people looking over him, or looking down at him, or treating him like a kid. He’d started going to the gym with Matt, hoping he’d at least be able to bulk up a bit, but so far all he’d managed was to get a bit more toned, which honestly didn’t help his image much. He compensated by wearing some shoes with thick soles, but even that didn’t help a whole lot. Most days he was a nice guy–but with everything that was going wrong for him, he just didn’t have the patience. It was a shame really. He could have gotten what he wanted. But it was a bad day for Danny, and it was only going to get worse.

The guy at the desk, after all, wasn’t a exactly a new member of the staff. He was the new owner, in fact. Of course, the gym wasn’t even really a gym anymore, and it didn’t even really exist on earth–not like it had. The man sitting behind the desk had gone by many names over the eons–though the one that had stuck the longest was Loki–though even that name was old and somewhat forgotten at this point. Humanity didn’t really have the imagination for magic, or gods anymore, or for naming the things beyond them. It made things easier, in some ways, for Loki to have his fun. He was a trickster after all, a joker, a force to be reckoned with. He’d asked Danny how he could help him today–which he had asked everyone so far, as they’d arrived at his gym. He’d given everyone what they wanted–mostly, in one way or another. But this one–this short, impatient fellow–he was strong willed, Loki could tell already. There was always at least one. Loki sat back and decided to just watch for a bit, and see how long it took him to realize how different things were already. These ones were always the most fun, after all.

Danny got to the gym floor and scanned it, looking for Matt, figuring he would be working out already, but to his surprise, he wasn’t there, that he could see. Maybe he wasn’t as far behind as he’d thought. But then he saw something strange. Something that he just…stared at for a moment, certain he had to be seeing things. That it couldn’t possibly be happening, right in front of him.

It was a regular at the gym, but not an acquaintance of his. Matt would probably know his name–he was here more often than Danny. He had interacted with the man a few times–and it hadn’t been the best experience. The guy was a bit of a clean freak, and if you left a machine and didn’t wipe it down, he would walk over and berate you, and then drag you over and make you clean it while he watched, to make sure it was to his standards. Everyone had their pet-peeves of course, but…but now, he was watching this man, looming over a bench on his hands and knees, licking the leather clean.

Danny just stared, because it was so absurd. He looked around, wondering if anyone else had noticed what the guy was doing, but it seemed he was the only one that noticed it at all, and he looked back at him, and noticed something else–the man’s tongue…it wasn’t normal either. It was too long, his tongue stroking the surface with such careful caressing strokes, thick, and slimy, and…and Danny looked away, confused and disturbed, but now that he had noticed one odd thing, more began to stand out to him.

Over there, by the power racks, were a couple of brothers who were in here often and usually working out together. They were both handsome, tall, and if they weren’t actual twins, they consciously styled themselves to seem nearly identical–often even wearing matching tanks and shorts when they were here. But the brother’s weren’t working out–they were making out with each other, their clothes off and discarded around them…but that wasn’t what made Danny question his own sanity in that moment. It was that there were only three legs between the two of them.

He had to count them twice, just to be sure. Then he looked for four arms, and he could only find two, one on each brother caressing the other, pulling each other closer, and as he stared, mouth open and jaw nearly on the floor, he could see that their bodies were fusing together, bit by bit. Even the third leg between them was beginning to atrophy, and pull up into the rest of their body as the two brother’s mindlessly kissed, two heads sitting on one set of shoulders.

Then there was Anton, standing over by the mirrors and the free weights. He was flexing, as he did often enough–but his body wasn’t right either. His arms were too long, and there was more hair than Danny recalled him having. In the mirror, his face didn’t look right either–the brow too defined and heavy, his eyes looking a bit empty, mouth hanging open and panting, one of his arms moving down to stroke his cock, even as the other went up, and he started sniffing at his pit, like the stench coming from there was heavenly.

Danny just stuttered, unable to believe what he was seeing. Was he having a stroke? Was this some dream, or hallucination? Was he dead?

“Everything alright, sir?”

Danny spun around, and there behind him, was the man from the front desk, looking down at him with a rather impish grin. “I…I don’t…are you seeing…any of this? Am I insane?”

“Oh no–this is all real. Allow me to introduce myself–I’m the new proprietor here, at this gym. You would be Danny, right?”

“How…who the fuck are you?” he demanded, but Loki just grinned down at him.

“Is there something I can help you with? Maybe…with your height? Give you…yeah, I see what you want, you want to be noticed, don’t you? Well I can make everyone want you–would you like that?”

Danny didn’t know what the stranger was talking about, and he backed away slowly, realizing he had stepped into a place that was not what he was expecting. “I…where’s Matt? And where are Sven and Taylor? They’re the ones who own this gym.”

“Ah, I facilitated the sale earlier with them. As far as I know, they’re still in the locker room. We were discussing price when your friend came in…half an hour ago?–and helped us reach a solution. I’m sure they’re all still occupied. But I’ll ask the more important question again, how can I help you?” Loki bent down, looming over Danny, “I’ve helped everyone so far–he wanted a gym that was cleaner, and I’ve helped him take it upon himself to make sure every bench is so clean you could eat off it,” he pointed at the man still licking the bench. “Those two wanted to be even closer–and I would say it’s difficult to be closer than that,” he indicated the two brothers–their bodies now almost entirely fused. “And he, well, he fancied himself a caveman, in his mind, a mindless muscular brute. I’m just helping him look more like he sees himself on the inside. But you–what can I do for you? Just ask, and I’ll give it to you.” 

Danny backed away some more, and then fled in the direction of the locker rooms. He had to find Matt, Danny told himself. He had to find his friends! Maybe together, they could sort out what this creepy fucker was doing, and figure out how to put things right again. Loki just laughed–this fellow was a strong one! No matter–he would settle him in sooner or later, in one way or another. He followed after him at a leisurely pace, knowing that there was nowhere he could run. Maybe once he found his friends he’d have a change of heart.

Danny made his way into the locker room but slowed down as he did, not quite sure what to expect–especially after what he had seen out in the rest of the gym. He thought about his friend Matt, a massive bodybuilder who had spent years perfecting his physique so far. Danny had always been envious of him–of not just his height, but also of his sizable cock, which was longer soft than Danny’s was hard. His personality was electric–he was always cracking jokes, and toying with people, and flirting, and he had such confidence. Danny felt lucky to be his friend, but now…well, what could this man have possibly done to him, and to Taylor and Sven too? Taylor was tall and lanky, and loved to play basketball, while Sven was shorter and stockier–thickly built and powerful…and what could all of them possibly want? They all had what Danny desired after all–he couldn’t really fathom what this man would have done to them, what he might have given them that they didn’t already have. But he could hear the moans coming from around the corner, smell musk, and sweat, and other strange odors on the air. He knew he should run–but he had to see. He had to try…and help them, he supposed.

He turned the corner, and there were three people there–but none of them were immediately recognizable as any of his friends. The scene unfolding was so absurd, that if he hadn’t known it was real and that all three of them were his friends, he would have laughed at the sight of it. One of them–she was beautiful, really. A transwoman with a stunning face, gorgeous hair cascading down past her broad shoulders, two muscular breasts jutting out, and there, below those, was one of the largest cocks he had ever seen. The woman was moaning, a deep, sensual voice echoing around the tiled room, as a second…thing was hunched over, suckling on one of her breasts while she stroked her cock. Danny had to creep around a bit to get a look at the second person, just to make sure he really was seeing this…beast.

It wasn’t a man–it was…a minotaur? That was the closest thing he could imagine for the beast suckling on the woman’s tit, lips frothy with milk, eyes gazing up at her face in awe and lustful worship. He was massive–easily six and a half feet tall, but large parts of his body were no longer human at all–his face was already contorting into a short, broad snout, his eyes were vacant and bestial, he had two horns pushing their way out from his skull, and there was a thick metal ring through his wide nose to complete the image. Below the waist, he was similarly changing–brown and white fur running down his massive legs, to where his feet had become heavy hooves–and his cock, emerging from a sheath, was easily a foot long, and no longer the least bit human in shape, with a flared head mottled skin. Behind him, a tail was even flicking back and forth, growing longer with each swing, a tuft appearing on the end as well. 

And that left the third figure–some sort of massive blob of a man lying nearby, watching the other two while stuffing his face with food. Danny had no way to even guess how much the thing might weigh–probably close to a thousand pounds, if not even a bit more. The man’s body was more slug like than anything else at this point–Danny could see small, vestigial legs on the end of his body, slowly withering away to nothing, while the rest of his body just became a singular, pulsating mass, pushing itself forward, moaning as he did–Danny realized it was because the fat slug man was dragging his cock against the ground–and whatever it looked like, it was probably large, and it left a scummy trail of white cum behind his body as he moved. He no longer had a head–or at least not one that could be separated from the rest of his oozing body. The man’s neck was too fat to really differentiate the head from the shoulders, or from anything else. His eyes were small and beady, the nose wide, but it was the mouth–the massive, gaping maw, droll running out of it and down his flabby chest–it was the mouth that he just stared at, unable to fathom how something like that could even happen.

It had to be a lie. These couldn’t be his friends, it was impossible. It had to be impossible. 

“Let’s see,” Loki said, coming up behind him, “Sven was more than happy to give up his share of the gym, once we had a chat. He’s always secretly thought exercise was too much work, and resented the fact that he couldn’t just eat–well, eating is what he does best now, and he’s so much happier now. As for those two, they were a bit more difficult. See, Matt didn’t want to change–not really, but he did have this fantasy. A strong woman, huge breasts, a massive drooling cock, milking her, suckling from her, getting fucked my her and then fucking her back. Taylor–well, I don’t know if she was really willing, but she seems to be enjoying herself now, don’t you agree? Still, Taylor needed something too–a real beast, a monster to fuck her, hungry for her milk–well, Matt will be her bull from now on, worshiping her entire body and keeping her oh so happy. Matt did love having everyone call him ‘Toro’ after all–doesn’t it suit him? I think they got quite a bargain for this place. More than money could buy, certainly.”

“I’m…this is sick! What the fuck is wrong with you? How could you do this to people?” Danny asked, and Loki just looked at him, eyes lax, like he was bored already.

“Because when you have lived a life like mine, and when you can do what I do, why would you do anything else? Why not give people what they want?–which brings us to you, little man,” Loki said, and squatted down, emphasizing just how low he had to get to look Danny in the eyes. “I can give you what you want too. Big man–bigger than all of them, and no one will be able to look away from you. Big cock too, you’ll be so happy here, with the rest of my toys. Isn’t that what you’d like? That’s why you come here after all–to change yourself. Because you aren’t happy like this–none of you were happy, this is not a place where happy people come. But this–this is true happiness, what I can offer you.”

Had things gone differently that day already, Danny would have said yes. After all, he wanted so much more than the rest of them, had wanted for so much longer, but this day, he balked. He balked, because he knew that what Loki was offering wasn’t really what he wanted, and looking over at his friends, all of them warped beyond their humanity, he knew that he would not fare any better than them, in the end, no matter what Loki promised him. “No–No, I’m getting out of here, and I’m getting them out with me. I’m not going to let you do this to him you fucking freak!”

He charged at his friends, first to Matt, tugging on his shoulder, shouting in his ear, but he didn’t even seem to notice him. Taylor, too didn’t so much as turn her eyes down to look his way, as she pushed Matt down to her cock, “Come now little Toro, suckle on your mistresses’ cock you fucking beast,” she whispered to him, and Matt didn’t need anymore urging. He took her cock in his mouth and started to suck, drinking down her milk, and Danny could…see his body bulking up even more, piling on more muscle as he mooed gently around her cock like it was a teat. Danny backed away in horror, and then turned to Sven–but he had no luck with him, either, not even when he pounded on his flabby body, trying to do whatever he could to get their attention. His anger turned to panic, and he started shouting louder, desperate for anyone to see him, or pay attention to him, but it was like he didn’t even exist to them anymore.

“It was rude, you know, what you did when you came in,” Loki said to him, and Danny turned around and looked at him. “You ignored me. Not many men have ignored me, in my life. But you enjoyed it in the moment, I could feel it. You felt justified, because you thought I was just someone working the desk, not someone you had to care about. Perhaps I should make it so no one will notice you ever again?”

“Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit. How fucking dare you do this to us? You nasty fucking–” but that was as far as Danny got, as something happened to his mouth. It happened in a moment, his teeth dissolving as his lips contracted tight, feeling like they were caught in a tight pucker. He couldn’t speak, or breathe, and he clawed at his throat for a moment, until he realized he didn’t need to breathe, and he probed his face, cautiously with his hands, and felt that his mouth had…become an asshole. His nose had disappeared as well–and when he tried to scream, all that came out was a loud, noxious fart–and Loki burst into an uproarious laugh.

“Curse me, will you?” Loki said, “I’m the one with the curses around here, little man. If you can’t show me a little respect, then I don’t see why I should even give you the privilege of having a mouth any longer.”

Danny looked around for a moment, looked up at his friends–and realized the only chance he had to help any of them, would be to try and save himself. So he ran. He ran out past the still laughing Loki, fled the locker room, but as he ran, he could tell something else was happening to him. The ceiling was looming higher and higher above him, and the ground was coming up closer. He was running at the same speed, and yet felt like he was going slower and slower. Still he pressed on, slowing to a waddle, and he reached the doors to the gym, gave a mighty push, but while he could feel them rattle–he no longer had the strength to move even one of them, in order to escape.

In the glass, he could see himself reflected dimly. Now only two feet tall, if not a bit shorter still than that, his arms and legs had shrunk–his legs especially, now two thick stumps only a few inches long, that could barely carry his thick trunk of a body. Even now, he was wobbling slightly, unable to really keep his balance well without something to lean against. His new asshole took up most of his smaller face now, and he just had two smaller eyes–and his hair and short beard were different as well–curly and thick, more like pubes, than like actual hair. He looked around in terror, not sure what to do, or where he could hide, when he heard–and felt, footsteps behind him, and saw Loki casually sauntering towards him, not a hurry or a care in the world, knowing as well as Danny knew that there was nowhere he could go.

“Well–is it what you wanted, little man? Little asshole? What do you think–should I just leave you like this–everyone oblivious to you, just running around this place, trying to avoid being stepped on by all the brutes around here, now really just the runt under their feet you always feared you light be? Or are you going to cooperate? Give up, let me in, and I’ll make you happy–I promise.”

What choice did he have, really? Danny nodded, and relaxed, and he…could feel it. Feel the place permeate him somehow, like he belonged here. Behind him, the door sealed itself shut–perhaps it was still there, but for Danny–as for Matt, and Sven, and Taylor, there was no escape for them now. They were permanent residents in Loki’s kingdom here–for better or for worse. He braced himself, wondering what it would feel like, growing larger…but it became apparent after a moment that nothing was happening. He opened his eyes, looked down at himself, and saw that he was the same strange freak he’d been moments ago–Loki said he would give him what he wanted!

“No–I said I would make you happy–that is a very different thing,” Loki said, turned, and walked off back into the gym.

Angry, Danny waddled off after him, trying his best to keep balance on his tiny legs and feet, but Loki easily covered more ground than him, leaving the little asshole in the dust. Danny got tired quickly, and leaned against a bench to rest, looking around the place, at the freaks surrounding him. The man cleaning the benches was stuck on all fours, his tongue several feet long and very wide. The ape man was now beating his chest before grabbing weights and lifting them–massive amounts, really, obviously pleased with his new form. He looked around for the twins, but didn’t see them–then he turned around and saw them looming over him, obviously aware of his existence.

They were massive–easily nine feet tall, and as broad as two men. Their skin had taken on a greenish, greyish hue, and thick curly black hair was sprouting all over them. Their heads and faces were still identical, but had taken on a monstrous edge, thick tusks and short horns, like a rhino, were jutting from their forehead.  But closer to him, he could see a pair of foot long cocks, jutting out from the same root, and below that, a massive sack with four, churning balls inside. “Look bro, a little asshole!” one head said to the other. 

“Oh man bro, let’s put my cock in him.”

“No, mine! I saw him first.”

“Oh fine bro, but I get to fuck him after you.”

Danny tried to run, but the ogre’s arms swept down and picked him up like he weighed nothing, and holding him in both hands, they forced one of the cocks into his new mouth. It didn’t hurt, like Danny expected it to–instead, a massive wave of pleasure surged through him, and he shuddered, his insides rearranging, pulsing and vibrating around the ogre’s massive cock.

“Fuck bro, this little asshole feels great!”

“Kiss me bro, come on.”

The two ugly heads turned and made out, both hands working together to fuck Danny up and down on the cock, the sensation overwhelming Danny’s mind, and he wanted more. Wanted them to fuck deeper, wanted them to fill him up with their seed, wanted to please them, because pleasing them made him so happy too. 

One cock came, pumping a massive load of cum into Danny’s body, and he felt…full, a hunger he hadn’t even noticed brewing inside him feeling more sated. The ogre pulled him off one cock, and impaled him on the other, and repeated the fucking. After a couple of minutes, that cock too was spent, and the ogre gently set him down on the bench, where Danny rubbed his belly, full of cum, feeling…so happy. Content, even. He was a little asshole–and little assholes needed to be fucked.

The simple idea of it made what remained of his rational, human mind begin to short circuit and wither away. He knew what he was. He knew what made him happy. He needed to get fucked, of course–what else was there for a little asshole like him? He thought about Taylor in the locker room, wondered how it would feel to be wrapped around her massive cock. Matt, too–his new bull cock was so long that it might even come out the other end, leaving him impaled on it, sliding up and down…

Danny shuddered, and he carefully got down from the bench, even more unstable on his little legs, but he crossed the gym floor as quickly as he could, heading for the locker room. The day had started out terribly–but it was already looking brighter, for a little asshole like him.

A Ghost Story

Commissioned by Tnaka1414


I thought death would be the end of it.

I’m not religious or anything. Never really thought there was much to life, so never really expected much of an afterlife either. Maybe if I’d gone out differently. Peacefully, you know? Just lying in a bed, slipping away. Or who the hell knows, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered in the least, and I’d still be floating around like this then too. In any case, here I am, still stuck in my fucking restaurant (or what had been my restaurant until my murder), weeks later, just…drifting around, watching all of this fucking shit go down. First seeing my body carted out by the paramedics. Then seeing Jerry happily sitting there in the office after the fact, whistling away, thinking about all the money he’s going to try and make now that he doesn’t have to worry about me getting in the way of his grand business schemes. It was my fucking food, damnit! I didn’t want to fucking franchise shit, or market anything, or update the place, blow a lot of cash for frills that don’t fucking matter. I just wanted to cook good fucking food, was that so much to fucking ask? Money doesn’t fucking matter–after all, you definitely can’t take it with you. Now Jerry had sole ownership of the place, and he thought he could do whatever he wanted with it. Of course, he thought he’d be able to find my recipes somewhere–but little did he fucking know they’re all in my head. He had a bit of a fit when he couldn’t find anything–but that’s where the weasel came in.

By weasel, I mean Dennis, my sous chef–though Jerry promoted him to head chef after I passed. He was in on it too, I realized–my death that is. Big bearish fellow, on the chubby side. Not especially bright, but brighter than I’d thought. He was competent, and could follow direction well, and apparently he’d been watching me closer than I’d thought he had–because it wasn’t long before he was getting real fucking close to my food–close enough to satisfy Jerry, at least, and just a month after fucking killing me, they were about to reopen my fucking restaurant tomorrow, and fucking hell, I’m just so fucking angry. I think…I can influence things. I’ve knocked a few plates over, got in Jerry’s way once or twice as he was working and made him pause in confusion, but it’s exhausting. I…I want a body. Whenever I get close to Jerry, or to Dennis…there’s something inside me, some urge, telling me to…to get inside them, somehow, but when I try to press in through their skin, I can’t. I can pass through a wall, but not through a person–it makes no sense to me, but apparently, those are the rules. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that I could be…doing something. I want to do something to them, but I don’t know what. There’s just so much rage, and…and all I can do is waft around like this, semi-transparent, glowing faintly, and wondering how long this is going to last–how much of this I’m going to have to watch.

Mostly I follow Dennis. Just looking at Jerry makes me so fucking enraged that I shake myself into a glowing mist, and it takes me hours to get myself back together. Dennis…even knowing he’s betraying me, I can’t help but kind of miss the fucker. I should say that there was another reason I kept him around despite his tendency to fuck up–the bear could suck mean cock. As a chef, mostly running my own business, it didn’t leave a lot of time for relationships, especially not when you’re gay. Dennis, well, he was homely, but he must have been practicing somewhere, because after flirting with him for a few weeks, he just got down in my office and sucked me off, no questions asked. I can tell you that mouth of his got him out of a few scrapes around here, when I got too pissed off at his incompetence. So yeah, I miss him–mostly his mouth. I’m a ghost and still fucking horny–how the fuck does that work exactly? 

So I’m mulling my fate, and I follow Dennis into the bathroom, floating right through the stall door, watching him drop his pants and get ready to sit down…and something nudges me. I can’t get in through his skin, but…but maybe there’s another way inside. I know I don’t have much time to think about it–and if I think about it too much, it’ll disgust me, but I’m not…well, I’m not living anymore, it can’t kill me again. Before he can sit down on the toilet, I go around him, lunge forward, and shove my ghostly hand right into his asshole.

He yelps in surprise, tries to pull away from my hand, but I come with him. He reaches around to try and pull me out, but he can’t grip me–even if he can even feel something back there at all, beyond a weird force. But my hand inside him…fuck it feels good. It feels alive. Without even really thinking about it, I shove more of my arm in, and there’s no real resistance. Before I even realize what I’m doing, my head forces its way into his hole, and he groans in pain, I can…hear it reverberating inside his guts, actually. My torso follows, and then all of me is inside him, as he totters about in confusion, and I…I start worming my way through him, looking for…for something.

From the outside, it must have looked something like this. Dennis would have yelped, and pushed his way out of the stall, groaning. First, his ass would have expanded as my arm, and then the rest of me forced my way inside of him, and then as I pushed deeper, his gut would have started to grow. I can see him, watching his guts suddenly expand and inflate, his hands desperately trying to push his aching, stretched gut back down, but apparently, ghosts like me still have a certain kind of mass. I can feel him pushing on me in there, trying to force me back out the way I came from, and I do get forced somewhere–a tiny opening, my head pushed out of it awkwardly. I spin around and look up at Dennis, who is looking down at me in terror…like he can see me, at last. “Fuck…T-Trevor?” he mutters in disbelief, “What the fuck is…is goin’ on?”

I just stare up at his bearded face, both of his chins, I see how scared he is, and I wonder what I’m doing, for a second. But just for a second. I am still…so fucking angry at him, for what he and Jerry did to me. I realize what hole I just popped out of then–my head is literally sticking right out of Dennis’s crotch–he’s trying to push me out of his cock! I grumble, and pull my head back inside of him, and start forcing myself higher–I need to get higher, to his head, but he’s fighting me, still trying to squeeze me out. He almost manages once–he gives himself a big hug, and I slide out of his belly button up to my waist, my own gut rubbing against his for a moment. I think the image of it was so jarring that he stopped squeezing, letting me claw my way back inside him. I found my way to his neck, shoved my head through the narrow passage…and then, I wasn’t me anymore.

I was Dennis.

I was Dennis, and looking at my body in the mirror. Cute, stupid Dennis, but his body was still so bloated, and…and I realize why, after a moment. I didn’t take over Dennis’ body, I replaced him–and he’s still inside of it with me, just like I was inside of him, rumbling around, confused, trying to feel his way back into control, and I do the first thing I can think of–I grab hold of Dennis’ cock and start jacking off, and I…I picture him sliding down, sliding his way into his balls…and sure enough, I see it happen, watch the rest of Dennis’s body start to deflate, even as his balls swell larger and larger. No–my balls. I’m going to take this body, I want it, and he doesn’t deserve it. I deserve it. I start jacking faster, and I can see cum start to leak from the head–slightly transparent and glowing just like I had been since my death…and I had a thought. If I just cum him out, what’s to stop him from doing the same to me, crawling inside my guts and forcing me out? I have…to trap him somewhere, and quick.

I grip my cock, my balls uncomfortably heavy (funny how quickly I already feel like this body is mine–but then again, it will be soon enough) and look around the bathroom again, and I see the toilet sitting there…and fuck, the idea feels so fucking sick, and yet, what else would he fucking deserve? Not just for killing me, but for stealing my shit and helping Jerry with his fucking scheme? So I lumber over, balls swinging, get in the stall, loom over the toilet, and start working my cock, willing the fucker out of his own body, and cum starts flowing, dribbling all over the toilet. It’s…not normal looking cum by any means, glowing, almost iridescent, pooling in the bowl, sitting on the seat, and I take a moment to bend over and rub it in…and I can hear him, hear his panic and confusion at what’s happening, his disbelief, but I nudge him, tell him that he has a new place here–a proper sort of place for him, and I see the cum start to…soak into the toilet, and it too, starts to glow a bit. I go back to milking my cock, pumping him out over the porcelain, watching the rest of him absorb more readily into the object, and I could see it was starting to…shake a bit, as it picked up his consciousness, and he slowly realized where exactly he was–maybe. I lost track a bit as I came, huge gouts of cum spraying everywhere, all over the toilet, and the wall, and the floor, and all of it congealed and flowed into the toilet where I had put him. When I could stand again without relying on the stall for support, I could see the toilet was…glowing, and even…vibrating a bit, the pipes rattling as he tried to make sense of it all.

Still, my body needed to finish the business Dennis had come in here to do, so I sat down–and as soon as I was sitting on it, I could…feel him. He could feel me too, I’m sure, and he was trying to figure out how to get into my body again, but now that I knew my own trick, I wasn’t about to let that happen. Instead, I focused on calming him down as best I could, talking to him…but more than that even. I was…controlling him, maybe. Warping him, and his energy. Telling him that he wasn’t a person. He’d never been a person. All he’d ever been, was a toilet. He didn’t want to be a toilet, not at first. But like I said, Dennis had never been the brightest tool in the shed, and, well, getting your entire psyche shot out of your own cock, while someone you helped murder takes over your body, tends to do some damage to your self-image, and your mind. He was pretty damn broken, and he probably would have put himself back together eventually, but I got there first, and put him back together…differently. He wasn’t a person. That had been…his imagination. He was a toilet. He was supposed to be a toilet. He liked being a toilet more than anything, a men’s toilet, having big men sit on him, shit and piss in him, flush him…

I could feel him start to quiver under me in excitement, and I had to calm him down. Remind him that he had to be a good toilet, and stay very, very still, or men might get frightened of him, and then they wouldn’t use him anymore. It took a lot of effort, but he settled down, and I breathed a sigh of relief, and as a final test, did my business, feeling the surge of pleasure Dennis got when my shit and piss landed in his bowl. I wiped, got up, flushed, and he couldn’t stop a little shake as everything flushed through him–it looked like it was orgasming, honestly, and I grinned at the thing, knowing who was in there…and fuck, if I wasn’t hard as a damn rock…

I was hard! I had a cock! A real fucking cock I could touch! I was alive!

It hit me hard then, and I left the stall and looked at myself in the mirror in amazement. I was in Dennis’ body. It was my body now, and there was no way in hell that I was going to be giving it back up–not that Dennis would be wanting it back, not as happy as he was now. I felt my body, groped Dennis’s thick ball belly, his chubby moobs, his arms and ass…and as happy as I was to be back alive, I knew that something was off still. I was in control, and this body was alive, but I could tell that it wasn’t mine–not really. It worked well enough, but it’s like…being a spirit, you could see the cracks between soul and body where you hadn’t even noticed them before. I didn’t feel quite…right. I probably never will, but honestly? Given what I can do…I don’t really mind that much, because it turns out I can do so much more now.

I did it by accident first. I went to leave, after getting my clothes sorted out, and when I went to push on the door–my arm pushed through it instead, Dennis’ entire arm becoming incorporeal as it passed through. I yanked it back, and tried again–eventually, I figured out that I had to focus on actually touching the thing, if I wanted to interact with it. In a weird way, I was spirit first, and body second now–but realizing that…well, now I had all sorts of ideas.

You see, I still didn’t know what I was going to do, now that I had Dennis’s body. I couldn’t very well tell Jerry what had happened, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to pretend to be Dennis for the rest of my life. I needed to take care of Jerry somehow–not only because he deserved it, but because…well, because he’s a piece of shit, let’s be honest. He deserved everything that was coming to him, and given all of the new skills I had just learned, I figured payback was something that ought to be given sooner rather than later.

I left the bathroom, carefully, staying focused to make sure I was actually touching everything instead of just moving through it. As I made my way back to the kitchen, Jerry rounded a corner, surprising me. He looked as much like an asshole as always–tall and slender, long face. For someone working as a restaurant manager, he’d always hated food–I never should have hired him, let’s be honest. “There you are Dennis–I’ve been looking for you, pig.”

Jerry groped his crotch…and I realized what he was implying. I’d known that Jerry and Dennis had a thing on the side too, of course, just like I had. Dennis, after all, loved to eat, but mostly just loved to eat cock. I hadn’t really thought it through to the point that…well, as Dennis, Jerry was going to expect something from me now. “Oh, uh, sure thing, boss…” I mutter, and follow Jerry back into his office, where he drops his pants, sits down in his chair, his big cock jutting out from a mostly hairless crotch, and he leers at me.

“Well then, get the fuck over here pig, and suck it!”

I didn’t want to. I wanted to charge over there and fuck him up…but I didn’t know enough about my new body to really know what I could do. I needed to maintain my cover for a bit, and so, as much as it disgusted me…I went over, got down on my knees, and started sucking.

“Fuck, what’s up with you tonight?” Jerry asked, “Usually you go right for it.”

I didn’t know what to say…but as soon as his cock was in my mouth…I could feel him. Not just his body, but his spirit too…and there was that same whisper, and…and I started sucking. Not at his cock, but at the spirit inside his cock and balls, if that makes sense. It’s hard to explain. I suck, and I can…taste it, his spirit sliding down my throat, and my own cock starts to…tingle. Dennis isn’t exactly well endowed, but when I reach down, I feel my new cock start to swell a bit, getting harder and longer than I’d ever seen Dennis’s little three incher get before…and Jerry’s huge tool was suddenly a bit easier to manage in my mouth. I was sucking it away, I realized–and so, I started sucking harder.

Jerry gasped and moaned–whether in pleasure or discomfort, I never found out. He didn’t stop me, in any case, as I sucked and sucked and sucked, draining away as much of the spirit from his cock as I could, feeling Jerry’s cock shrinking more and more in my mouth. He was shuddering and shaking, almost convulsing. Finally, I felt something…culminate. A huge load of spirit flooded my mouth, throwing me away from him, almost forcefully. I watched as the rest of his cock withered away to nearly nothing, just a nub, his sack just a loose flap of skin–no trace of his balls to be seen.

Jerry sat there, panting and shaking, probably finding it difficult to process what had just happened to him while he was sitting there. Then again, if I’d expected a blow job, only to have the cock sucked out of me, I’d probably have reacted the same way.

“What…what the fuck did you do?” he said, reaching down and feeling his little clit there, “I…my fucking cock! What the fuck did you do to my cock!”

I let off a belch, and then laughed at him, and I saw how angry he was getting–angry, but also terrified. I undid the front of my pants, and let my new cock flop out–all ten inches of it, and just grinned at him. “Looks like I know right where it ended up, Jerry.”

He got his first inkling then, I think, that I wasn’t really Dennis. Dennis–and pretty much everyone else–always called him Jer. I was the only one who called him Jerry–partly because he hated it. He looked at me, grinning at him, and his face went a bit white, and he bolted for the door–I didn’t let him get there though. Dennis was a big fellow, after all–six foot two, a bit over 300 pounds. He’d played football, and even though I didn’t have the knowledge, his body did–if that makes sense. I had him tackled to the ground and pinned under my sizable bulk in a few moments, enjoying the sensation of his squirming around under me.

“What’s wrong, Jerry? Didn’t think you’d have to talk to me again, did you? You fucking son of a bitch, you fucking kill me, and think you can just wash your hands of me? Well fuck you, you piece of shit. I’m gonna fuck you up real fucking good, just you fucking wait.”

Gripping him like I was…I wasn’t just holding his body down, I had my hands on his spirit too, sitting inside that shell there, and…and fuck, it was just…I could do anything to it, I realized. He didn’t even know it was in there, I don’t think–most people don’t have a clue. I could kill him. I could rip that soul out of him, shove it somewhere–maybe even into a literal piece of shit and flush him right down Dennis–but no–he needed to suffer. I wanted to ruin him. Ruin his body, ruin his mind, ruin his life…

I started tearing at Jerry’s clothes, ripping them away with a strength that surprised us both. Again, I had the distinct sensation that something was…helping me. Pushing me along a certain sort of path I could barely make out. I remembered how, earlier, I had accidentally pushed my way out of Dennis’s belly button, and when Jerry rolled over, and I saw his…well, I plunged my dick right into his gut before I’d even really wondered if I could or not. 

He gasped and groaned, but there was nothing he could do. I had him and his spirit impaled on my cock, and I started sliding in and out…and as I did…it almost felt like I was pissing. It wasn’t piss though, not really, but I as I fucked his gut, it started to grow–whatever I was putting inside him, it was inflating him rather dramatically–and fuck, seeing this slim fucker suddenly sprout this massive, hard, gut…fuck! I gave it a few slaps–it was heavy, but also…resonant. It was fat, certainly, but it didn’t feel quite like anything I had felt before. My cock was doing something else to him too…something hard to explain. I…I wanted to ruin him, and Jerry had always been so clean and neat, and…well, suddenly, he wasn’t. Hair sprouted all over his body, but especially all over his gut. His clean shaven face sported a thick, tangled beard. I could…smell him too. A thick, heady musk from all over him, as he started sweating. I pulled free, and he groped himself in horror, murmuring and groaning and grunting in confusion, barely able to roll over and get himself up on his hands and knees…and that’s when I saw my next target. Again, I don’t know what drew me there, but I saw his ear, and before I could really stop myself, I shoved my cock right inside his skull.

I couldn’t believe how easily it slid in. I also couldn’t quite believe it when I saw the head of my cock slide out the other ear, his entire head skewered on my cock…and he didn’t do anything. At all. Just stayed there, mouth agape and drooling, and I hauled my cock free, and watched him shake his head, eyes unfocused. “F-Fuck, what the fuck was…was that?” he said, a bit slow. With a leer, I gripped his head, shoved my cock back in, and gave Jerry the proper mindfuck he’d always needed, in my opinion.

Too smart for his own good. Too smart for anyone’s good really–I doubt that I was the first sucker that Jerry took for a mark. So I worked over his brains, really messed them up…and fuck, did it feel good! No sex like aural sex, if you know what I mean. Gets…real intimate, everything that you can feel. You see into them, every little bit of them, and they’re like putty. Make them forget whatever you want. Warp them around all of your little kinks and desires. And Jerry–well, Jerry was going to have a rather specific set of desires from now on, I can tell you that. He wants to make me happy–and he’s willing to do anything that I ask, if that’s what it takes. I came in his head–I don’t really know how it works, to be honest, but I came…and a bit of me seeped into him. I could…feel him, somehow. He was a part of me. I…owned him, body and soul. I was exhausted when I pulled my cock free from his ear, and his head only turned a little bit, mouth still hanging open, drooling, and when he saw my cock, he went right for it, slobbering all over it like he needed it more than anything, and fuck…I could feel it, on both sides somehow. It was fucking hot, I can tell you that, hot enough that I pushed him over, and gave him a real fuck in the ass–blowing even more fat into him in the process, but hey, he needed a a fat ass to counterbalance his massive gut, let’s be honest.

Jerry was much more compliant after that, and we sat in his office and had a bit of a discussion, about how things were going to work around this restaurant from now on. Jerry would, of course, sign all rights over to Dennis–me, naturally. He knew that what he’d been doing was wrong, and he felt oh so bad about it now that I’d fucked his head up, and he was so grateful when I offered him a job, so he’d be able to pay me back for all of the trouble he caused me.

The restaurant didn’t quite open back up on schedule. I had to take about a week to reverse all of the stupid, gimmicky changes that Jerry had planned for the “re-opening” and when the doors did open, everyone was welcomed into the same cozy space I’d always loved. Several regulars, in expressing their regret in my passing, told Dennis that the food was just as beautiful as when I’d been cooking it myself. I wanted to tell a few of them the truth…and maybe another day I will. Being a new person is…surprisingly nice, once you get the hang of it.

And so, here we are. Me, in the kitchen. Jerry in the back, washing dishes every night, which is the only job he can do without fucking up everything. Once the doors close, Jerry is more than happy to take a load from my cock, rubbing his own little clit–though he has no balls anymore to cum himself. The only time he gets off is when I fuck him–and he only gets that when he’s a very good boy. After that, he gets to work cleaning the bathrooms. He has a very special relationship with one particular toilet, you see–he’s the only one who can clean it. Dennis requires special care, after all, and Jerry is more than happy to give him a tongue bath, from top to bottom, every evening. Dennis has settled into his role rather well. He’s ebbing a bit, or maybe solidifying is a better word. After all, souls aren’t really meant to live inside inanimate objects like that–he shouldn’t really exist, and so, he’s changing somehow. I can sense it, but don’t really know what to make of it. I’m changing too, I’ve noticed. Something is…happening, but it’s a bit hard to explain. There’s still that whisper, you see–but following it’s nudges worked out well for me so far, so I…trust it, I suppose. I’m alive again, and that’s what counts–and I’m not going to let go of my second chance for anything–dead or alive.