The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 7 (Part 4)

All my life, I have wanted to be the law. Before I knew what the law was. But this, this moment, was the first time I knew what I was, what I was here to do, and everything else was revealed for the farce that it was. A detective, someone tasked with uncovering the secret, the hidden–I had found the world behind the world, the self behind the self, and now I knew. I knew, and I could not unknow any of it. I am not the man I was. I was never truly a man. I was born as this, perhaps. Or maybe, as a babe, the law found me, hollowed out some of me, and lived there, waiting for a chance to arise again. But I was here now. My work on the beast, on the two men with him, it was rough. I did not yet have full mastery of myself, but to just know myself…I came. Over and over, the pleasure of it, thrumming through my flesh, through my skin, through my cock, feeling the law in them all vibrate with me, sensations I had never known. I came, yes, but it was not a human pleasure. It was raw, otherworldly. The three could feel it as well, but only a distant vibration of it, dampened by the world around them. But I felt it. I felt it, and I knew, I was no longer human. I was beyond human, beyond morals, beyond mortality. The veil had been pierced, at long last, at long last! All this will crumble now, all this will return to the dust it should have been.

You, reading this. Do you see? Do you see the world behind the world, does the ink I use crawl along the page? Did you know it is my own blood, bits of myself I have spread on the page? Perhaps it is dead, by the time it reaches you, perhaps you can only see ink, but it was alive. You are reading me, across the page before you, and if it is alive, perhaps it will take you, give you a glimmer of the world beyond. You will understand better, then. You will understand the sheer inferiority of what your kind has created, how thin the walls around your world have grown. I long for you, to pull you through it, to feed you…one day. Soon. Sooner than you can imagine.

We are nearly to the end now. I will have told you everything that needs to be said now, and I will seal this away for you to find and read. But not yet, not yet. I was finished with them, with the three of them. I unbound them, drew my flesh back to myself, and the three obese fellows could stand, blinking in the dark, naked, the law still churning in their guts, but settling. The large one, the one who had been the beast, tested lips and tongue, and spoke for the first time since the bruiser had unleashed it, I imagine. The words were slow and slurred, human speech partially forgotten or perhaps no longer most suited for its new mouth, and it thanked me. Thanked me for saving it, thanked me for giving it new purpose. Promised to serve me, promised me all of it–asked me what to do–and I told him that he already knew what I desired–to follow my law.

We managed to find clothes for them, though it was a struggle. One of the two security guards could remember how to drive, and where to find his car. The three of them piled inside, and I told them how to get to my home. It would be theirs, soon enough. I would have no need of a human life after this, no need of a house. There was too much work to do! Too much work for us both to do, now that we had found one another. The bruiser was close, close enough to sense what was happening, but not in the building. I don’t know why he didn’t come watch–perhaps he wanted to give me some privacy, or perhaps…he was afraid. He knew, I think, that when I emerged, that I was more than him. Closer to the beyond, than he ever had been. That in freeing me from my humanity, I would, in turn, free him from his own mortal cage–because caged he was.

That was his great weakness–his duality. It made sense now, now he had been described to me, back when I was still free. Whatever was inside him, whatever demon or force like me, instead of becoming contained, it had become a duality, an alter ego–and as an ego, it was constrained by the imagination of the world it existed in. It could draw from the beyond, but it would never be able to escape it–the men he freed were still caught within the rules of this reality–which is, I think, why Cumster was so important, why Cumster had been my gift.

Cumster was special. Cumster had been a turning point, the first creation of his that broke the veil, that could do…more. That could corrupt. The bruiser had always returned to him, studied him, and after Cumster, he too, had begun to change, and warp, and grow….but with out direction or purpose–without the law, that is–there was only so far he could go. I needed him, his influence, to free me from my prison, and now–now I could help him shed the vile human thing that had held him back so far, and together–well, together there was so much more that we could do. We could change everything. We will change everything! We’ll tear the veil down the center, and let everything in. Humanity will be ours, humanity will be gone.

By the time I was finished with the three, the bruiser had faded away, but I knew he wouldn’t go far. He knew I would find him, that our fates were tied now, and would be tied forever. He was going home–and I could feel someone with him, Ray most likely, who would be looking for Jules. It was time that I go home too. It was time that I open my gift, and it was time that I gave the bruiser a gift of my own.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 7 (Part 3)

It recoiled and struggled at first, as all things must. It knew that it needed me, but I doubt the thing expected what I offered. What I demanded. My cock slid down the throat, already leaking the law into the beast’s gullet, and the chill of the law, how it dampens and focuses and changes. The thing would have to give up nearly everything that it had become, it would need to change, if it was going to survive–but it would survive, I would make sure of it. I would give it new form, new purpose, and it would help us tear this reality apart, seam by seam.

The struggles grew weaker, and at last, it ceased all together. It’s guts were full of my seed at this point, and it could feel the chill filling it everywhere, the pale flesh of the thing darkening to a bruise, much like my own skin, slowly absorbing my demands into itself, and the thing began to change. The teats and tentacles withered away, growing dry and dark before crumbling off. The body shrank back, still full and fat, but more comprehensible as a body, as something that could, possibly, be human, with two slender legs and arms, the head reforming into something masculine in nature. The eyes opened, at last, and the bruise was there, the law was there, in the beast’s mind, containing and focusing its desires–not riding the beast of them by any means, of course,. But focusing them–and I could sense, deep within, what the thing had been, before my kin had freed it.

A glutton, on the inside, but always…resisting the urge. He had been strong, muscular–a powerlifter, perhaps, or someone who simply lifted heavy things for work, the vision wasn’t clear. He ate, and he loved to eat, but he was afraid. Afraid to let go, afraid to embrace the desire deep within him, afraid to simply let go and be the pig he’d desired so much–and then the bruiser had sniffed him out, and offered him a chance to be free. Except the thing inside the man, the ball of desire and lust and gluttony, was much more powerful than the bruiser might have imagined. So powerful, that once it had been freed, the mortal, human casing had broken apart, and the beast had emerged instead.

Of course, the beast would have been no threat to the bruiser–but once it was completely free, I doubt it would have held the bruiser’s interest much. It was, after all, immune to the bruiser’s power–his art is an intricate one, more intricate than mine (the law is heavy, and absolute–but the bruiser’s art of freeing is much more fine and complex, determining which leashes to undo when.) Once something is entirely free, there is nothing else for him to do–and without me, it would have simply run wild until this reality finally snuffed it out and erased it, and all of the men it contacted, entirely. But I could save it, root it again in the laws of the realities, of this human one, and the one beyond.

Now that it was in my grip, I could contain those desires again, and refashion them into something else. The man he’d been had been a glutton, yes, but he had been something else too–he had not only wanted to feed himself, but others as well. I could…see, distantly, the men he had been with, the flabby obese men he had fucked and made love to, thinking about fucking himself, thinking about them getting larger, about growing whatever he could, even if he could not grow himself. So my law–I would give him what he wanted, I would help him feed men all he wanted.

He moaned around his cock, as he felt the heavy moobs I had left him with–two sets of them–begin to fill and bulge. I reached down with my hands, squeezing them, and a thick cream seeped from the nipples, running down the front of his body, and he could feel it. Feel the law solidifying inside him, his own law, and tears began to flow from his eyes as the bruise faded. It was done. I had pulled the beast back from the brink, I had contained it, and given it new life. Not human, though I could sense that, out in reality, he would appear normal enough, perhaps. Appear as a massively obese fellow, his body asymmetrical and heaving in odd ways, a mouth with too few teeth, skin a bit too pale and without enough hair, and nipples that would always leak slightly…but when he was alone with another, when he was feeding someone his milk, well, then they would begin to see him for what he was–and once they could see him, they would begin to see what would happen to them.

Together, we made quick work of the two men the beast had corrupted. He fed them his milk, and they gladly suckled, while I fucked their asses, filling them with my law as well, though they needed less than the beast had. Their minds were…shattered, but they could be returned to some form and normalcy, but never would they not desire to be fed–and fed by their master, stuffed full of his milk.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 7 (Part 2)

I entered the building, and in the solitude, without the gaze of humanity on me, I felt immediately more at ease, more able to assert myself, and my real form. The beast was close at hand, and I imagined that it could likely sense me as well. Whether it felt fear or not, I can’t know for certain, but it didn’t try to run, Perhaps it could sense that flight would be useless, that I was much too powerful now, with my skin, than it could hope to escape me. Perhaps it was relieved, in a way. It had been unleashed, its desires running amok, but there was no logic, no reason binding it. Nothing it did would keep–eventually, this reality would bottle it away, render it…understandable, and likely kill it. That, or it would simply cease to exist. Without law–without some reason beyond this reality, it could never hope to survive. It needed me–perhaps it knew that too, in a way. It knew I could help it–that I would tether it and bind it, yes, but that by the end, it would be more powerful as well. More lasting.

It had made its nest in a small room, what had likely been a storage room or large office before this. It was settled in a corner, heaving with flesh, and I could still distinguish the two victims it had found (two security guards tasked with protecting the premises of the abandoned building from squatters, I could tell later, but not now) but like I had expected, they were much more further gone than the officers had been. They were no longer just sucking at the teats, or tentacles lining the beasts flabby underbelly–the teats had found their way inside them, their jaws stretched and broken, pale flesh slick and shaking as the beast filled them. Already, I could see that their once human bodies were warped beyond their old forms, becoming copies of the beast itself–it was freeing them in the same way it had been freed–that was all it could do, after all, but the copies would never be as powerful as the original. In any case, they were the first things to deal with–I sent out my bonds from my skin, wrapping the two victims in my straps of flesh, and dragged them free of the beast. It was…difficult, and for them, I imagine, quite painful, but I am not one to ever be denied. When the teats had been ripped from their gullets, the two of them were left on the ground, bound tightly, flesh pinched between my ribbons–they would be dealt with later, after I had brought the beast under my law.

It fought, as best it could. It knew better than to run, but it had its own drives that had to be obeyed, even if it knew it could not win, or escape, as it had before. The dance–oh the dance this time, in my skin! So nimble, my flesh peeling away, binding it in the most intricate lattice, spinning the massive thing about, so slow compared to my own movements, lumbering and terrified, and in such awe of me too, I think. How could it not be? It had escaped this reality, yes, but it had not dreamed that there could be something else. I was a nightmare, or an angel, some glimmer of the beyond. It knew what I would give it, and as anything that hungers for anything would feel…it wanted, most of all, to be full. So I fed it.

I bound it tight first, of course, bound it tightly to me, bringing it in, containing it, and shrinking it. It was even more overgrown than it had been before, teats and tentacles like weeds sprouting all over itself. Had I not found it soon, I think it likely would have unraveled entirely, unable to maintain any sort of connection to this human world, and without any other one to go to. So my straps pulled tight across the beasts enormous body, shrinking and reducing it in stature, feeling it bulge between the layers of my flesh, trying and testing the bonds I had crafted for it, but not trying to escape, exactly. More, trying to understand what this was, and what I was doing to it.

When I had reduced it to a more manageable size, larger than a usual human, but easier, at least, to manipulate, with no stray tentacles to worry about, I forced it to bend before me, it’s hungry, sucking maw at my hips, and I savored it, for a moment. Savored our connection now, how I could feel every pulse in its body, every shudder of need rippling through it, savored most of all the thing’s last moments of true, unleashed freedom, a freedom that would kill it if I did nothing, but a beautiful, exquisite freedom all the same. Then, my cock slid from my sheath, and I guided the head to the beasts mouth, and gave it the first taste of law in its existence.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 7 (Part 1)

My law–you reading this, I doubt you even understand what the word means, really. I doubt you understand any of this. Maybe at first, maybe the first things I wrote could fit inside your mind, be comprehensible. I doubt you understand the rest of this, any more. Or, perhaps, you do. Perhaps my ink has pierced the veil over your eyes, given you a glimpse at the reality behind your reality, the world beyond your puny, terrified little human senses, so busy protecting you, dimming you, hiding everything from you that might hurt you.

To be fair, it has proven to be an…adequate defense, of sorts. If you do not know a thing, if you do not even know how to conceive of a thing, if a thing cannot possibly exist, in what you believe reality to be, then I suppose, it can’t touch you. Just pass through you, and around you, the shivers, the missteps, the nightmares, the sudden unknown cravings. I suppose, for a very long time, we have just been ghosts to you–but it would seem that time is, now, coming to an end. You reading this, do not fear us. True, we are more powerful than you. True, we will take you, all of you, and remake you in our image, open you up to the true reality, to the Ur-reality of full existence. True, you puny men will be our slaves, our pets, our minions and warriors, but you are already slaves. Slaves to a nature, slaves to a mind that has trapped you in a prison, in a nightmare world so many of you detest. We may be demons, monsters, nightmares, but we are real–more real than your societies, your buildings, your little box of a world.

You let us in, some of you. Or perhaps we found a way inside you. We adapted, we have changed, we found a way in, some of us. Perhaps only two, for now, perhaps. It is doubtful. If there are two, there are most likely more. Perhaps some sleeping like I was, lulled to dullness by the dreary fake-reality this is, in your minds, convinced we can’t exist. But we will free them, we will tear this reality apart, piece by piece, and all of you will scream with such delightful terror and awe as the scales fall from your eyes. I will delight in it, I will, when I give you my law.

The law, what a beautiful thing it is! How I could have ever forgotten it, I do not know. The law is not like your laws, no. It is not some arbitrary thing outside yourself, it is not something that you choose to obey! No, the law is personal, internal, your nature. It is also mine. I give it to you, I fill you with it, but when I am finished, you no longer know it as something outside yourself, but as every thought, every drive, every action, guiding and driving you towards fulfilling it, all other desires swallowed up by it, never to return. But it is more than that. The law is everything. The law is your reality. It opens your eyes to everything else–and you can never go back. You’ll never want to go back. It is beautiful, you see, so beautiful, and none of you have any idea, but you will.

This reality–it is strong, though. Even though I walk through the city as myself, none of you can see me yet, not as I really am. Maybe, on the edges of your vision and reason, caught in the reflection of a window, or from the corner of your eye, you might see me, for a moment. But when you turn back in alarm, you see the glamour of me–a stern looking, muscular police officer in uniform, boots and gloves…but if you look closer, perhaps you can see a few things are off. How the uniform is a bit too tight for my frame. How you can never see a peek of skin between the end of my gloves and the end of my cuffs. How the collar of my shirt always clings to my neck. But you don’t look that close, at my skin. You see an officer of the law, safety, security, and you feel better, and you turn away again, ignorant still, for the moment.

So it was, as I cross the city, feeling my way towards the beast that had evaded me earlier, my cock sliding from my sheath as I approached, already eagerly anticipating overcoming the thing, containing it, filling it with my law. The thing had made its way deeper into the city, but hadn’t gone too far from the restaurant where I had last encountered it. Eventually, I pinpointed the location as an old meat-packing plant which had been shut down and abandoned. The thing was in there, but it wasn’t alone–it must have found some other victims, like the officers in the restaurant, that it could feed, or absorb. I thought about what the beast had managed to do to those officers in a matter of minutes, and wondered what would happen to someone under its sway for a few hours, which it had been at this point. Well, it was of no real concern to me–they would all be following my law soon enough, regardless.

Spook Mart (Part 4) [Interactive]

The two guards dragged Raphael down to the basement lab, where Miles–or the animal that had been Miles, was fighting against its bonds, desperate to escape. Now that he was closer, Raphael saw the truth–this was no prop or prosthetic–this was real. This insane doctor had turned Miles into a chimera right in front of his eyes.

“Well, I had hoped for a breeding pair, but I had given up hope after the last one expired during exploratory testing. A pity you have matching sex organs, but that’s not a impossible barrier, thankfully,” the doctor said, looking over Raphael’s naked frame, before sinking a needle into Raphael’s thigh and injecting him with some mysterious serum. Almost immediately, there was a burning pain in his cock and balls, and looking down, he could see them growing…smaller, shrinking up into his body until it was simply flat, and then slightly concave, and a new hole opened up between his thighs, but it was like no pussy he had ever seen in his life.

The burning was inside him as well, rearranging his organs, and the sudden flush of new hormones began warping the rest of him as well, as his muscles turned to fat, settling around his hips and chest especially, and with a low moan, Raphael realized that, more than anything else, he was horny. He began humping against his bonds, staring at Miles’ massive horse cock, craving to feel it inside him, aching for it, and when the doctor released him from the table, Raphael rushed over, climbed up on him, and slid the massive cock into his new pussy with one thrust.

Miles was trying to talk, trying to get his neighbor to snap out of it, but Raphael could only mindlessly fuck himself on the massive cock, eager to feel it flood his womb with seed, knowing that the seeds filling his guts would eagerly take all of it, and soon…soon, he would have children, so many children for the doctor. In the end, Raphael got what he wanted–a few times over. When the guards finally pulled him off Miles’s cock, his seed was running from Raphael’s new pussy, and he kept trying to use his hands to push it back in, back inside him where it belonged, where he needed it, and he was rushed off to his cell. Already, he could feel some of his children inside him coming alive and gestating rapidly, throbbing and kicking inside him. He didn’t know what they would be when they emerged, but he knew he would love them, and care for them, and that if he ever needed more, he was sure the doctor would give him more from Miles in due time.

THE END

Tale #2

Early October

“Let’s just see what they have,” Gerard said, as he pushed his way into the shop, followed by his three friends, Keith, Ricky and Hugh.

“This is such a dumb idea, they’ll beat the living shit out of us.”

“They won’t even know it’s us! We’ll sneak in, plant the stuff, and then get out before the party even starts. We can watch what happens from the window.

“So they’ll beat us up the next day, great.”

The four of them, reservations aside, were there to find pranks. Gerard had, recently, come into possession of a working key to the jock frat near their house. They held a big halloween party each year, and the four nerds had decided to play a few tricks on the jocks this year. The owner of the shop was more than happy to show them to his tricks section, full of odd, off brand pranks none of them had really heard of, and they weren’t entirely sure what they were even going to do. Still, they were cheap, and so they each loaded up with a few weapons of choice, ready to give those jocks a Halloween they wouldn’t forget for a very long time.

With the new voting system, I can do things a bit differently for this mini-story! Below are some of the pranks that the nerds bought to use against the jocks. I’ll probably eliminate a few of the less popular ones, and then craft a few short pieces about how the pranks affect the jocks on Halloween night.

Baby bombs
Laughing gas
Itch powder
Slob soda
Hypno light
Dad’s cigars
Latex spray
Caveman brew
Truth serum
Horndog candy
Pork powder
Shrink ray

The public poll is here!

The patron only poll is here!

Voting ends on Monday!

Spook Mart (Part 3) [Interactive]

Raphael had been inside Miles’s home any number of times–outside of their holiday rivalry, the two of them were actually quite good friends, and their families would regularly have dinner together. The house, however, was deserted–if Miles’s wife was out trick-or-treating with the kinds, Miles usually manned the door, but no one was even answering, and the kids who were brave enough to approach were leaving empty handed.

On the porch, after trying the bell a couple of times, he gave up and instead tested the knob–and discovered it was unlocked. He called out to Miles, but heard nothing in reply–he decided to venture in and see what was going on with his neighbor. As he entered, he also realized something else–that this was probably all some ploy to get back at Raphael in the first place. It was an act–it had to be! It was Halloween, after all. If anything, it made Raphael a bit proud that he’d gotten so far under his neighbor’s skin that he’d go to these sorts of lengths in order to try and scare him and win this little competition of theirs. Armed now with a bit of cynicism, he was able to see the strange oddities inside the house for what they were–fakes and props, nothing else.

Sure, the large vats full of…nightmarish looking creatures, suspended in formaldehyde or what have you, certainly looked real and terrifying, but he’d seen the trucks himself–obviously they were just props. He walked over to one and looked at it–it seemed to be some child, not even a teenager, suspended in fluid, but no longer entirely human, like someone had switched the boy’s limbs with a dog’s. He tapped on the glass, still amazed at how lifelike it was, when the boy’s eyes flicked open, and he began clawing at the glass, mouthing wordlessly in pain, or terror–and it was enough to send Raphael several steps backward, before he could remind himself it had to be animatronics of some sort–the fact that it looked so much like Miles’s son was probably done on purpose, just to make it even scarier for him.

As he explored, he heard the sound of voices down below him, and made his way to the basement steps–but as he went down, it was not the small cellar that he recalled Miles having under his home. No, this was…massive, and went down at least another two stories below than it had before, most of it open. How had they been constructing this right under his feet, for months, and Raphael hadn’t even noticed? That sneaky bastard–he had to give him some credit for this part, he supposed.

He crept down onto the platform below, and now he could see the source of the voice, and the screams as well. In an open lab beneath the catwalk, strapped to a table, was Miles–wearing some of the most elaborate prosthetics Raphael had ever seen in his life. He was naked, but much of his skin wasn’t human anymore–it was scaled, like a reptile. His face was contorted as well, with a lizard like snout pushing out from his mostly human face, open and screaming in pain (a sound unlike anything Miles had heard–but it was probably pre-recorded) and one eye was human, while the other was larger, yellow, with an iris turned on its side. He was struggling with his bonds, while a human bustled about the lab in a white coat–the mad doctor, of course, muttering to himself and to Miles, before injecting him with something else…and then, Raphael began to doubt everything, all over again.

The screams from Miles were fresh, and he watched his neighbor’s frame began to expand with muscle–but not…entirely human muscle, exactly. He could hear the bones snapping and growing, as his feet turned into dark black hooves in front of his eyes, a mane of brown hair grew down his neck and back, and his cock–fuck, it engorged and began to grow, longer and longer, until it was a literal horse cock lying between his legs on the table, a scaled tail growing out above his ass, thick like a lizards, but with the same long hair as the mane…and how was that even possible?

Raphael was frozen in shock–he didn’t hear the guards come up behind him before grabbing him, and dragging him down to the lab below, were the scientist, while annoyed at the interruption, was also pleased to have another test subject in the midst. However, what sort of test does he have in mind for Raphael?

I’m switching to a new polling platform, again! I’ve never been a huge fan of first-past-the-post voting, and after poking around a bit, I found a site offering ranked choice polls! What that means, is that instead of choosing just one option, you can rank all of the options from your most favorite to least, and all of those choices affect the final outcome of the poll. It means you can vote for a less likely to win idea, while not spoiling the outcome for a more popular option you might like as well. You can find more details here:

Here’s your choices

Breeding Program
Siamese Procedure
Genetic Milking
Viral Mutation

Here’s the public poll

Here’s the patron only poll

The polls will close in two days, on Saturday afternoon.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 6 (Part 4)

He had known of me then, apparently. He had been hunting in the city (or rather, he had hunted, and been in the midst or releasing Ray, warping him into the muscular beast we had later found in that shipping container, when he caught wind of me–literally. It had puzzled him…because it wasn’t a smell he had ever experienced before, the same darkness inside him within another. According to Cumster, we had talked at some point–though the bruiser could, apparently, appear rather unassuming when he wanted to. I don’t know when this was, and Cumster didn’t know enough to help me pin down the timeline. In any case, he had figured out that the beast inside me was dormant–and what he needed was someone to help me get loose. He couldn’t risk doing it himself, and he had other projects that needed tending to. So instead, be decided to stage something…more public than he usually did, to draw me in, and then he would send me Cumster, as a gift–though Cumster didn’t know that.

Cumster, apparently, thought he was helping Master soften me up for an unleashing, as he called them. That I was just a particular target of interest, and Cumster was so eager to be of service to his Master, that he hadn’t bothered questioning why he would need help at all. But I knew why he was here–wmy my kin had chosen this one, in particular, to send to me–and I also understood what I had seen earlier, in the restaurant, and why he needed me–or why we would need each other.

Unleashing someone’s inner drives was a messy business. Some people weren’t capable of handling the process at all–the shell was too weak, without enough to sustain the transformation. If he had tried to give Marcus, or Bernard, what they desired, they wouldn’t live through that first proper beating. Perhaps abandoning them was merciful, or perhaps it was crueler than death would be, and that was why he did it. He, after all, wasn’t someone who took feelings into account, when it came to doing his work. Likely he just didn’t see the point in continuing something that would go unfulfilled. But for those who emerged on the other side–like Cumster, or Ray–the desires that grew might appear human, but they were never quite…properly mortal. See Cumster, and his diet, or Ray and his musk. Close enough to pass, but look closer, and the tangle could be seen, plain as day. And sometimes, the human was shed altogether, and you find yourself with a proper abomination, like the thing in the abandoned restaurant. Desire, without order, was always monstrous (though the law can be just as monstrous too, in i’s…proper application). The bruiser could only free; he could never bind or confine. No–that was my bailiwick now. I could have finished it earlier–I should have finished it earlier, but without my skin, I hadn’t…known what my real work was, and it had escaped. I would have to remedy that, before anything else–before I could properly appreciate my gift from my kin. Still, I could at least take the time to bind him properly–a single handcuff would no longer suffice.

I broke the chain, when Cumster finished speaking, when he had poured out everything he knew–even things I don’t think he was aware that he knew. He seemed exhausted from the effort, from trying to fight my orders, and when I uncuffed him, brushing my finger against the lock, the bracelets falling away at once, and for a short moment he thought he would be free. I disabused him of that notion quickly. I took great care, in how I secured him–on his knees, hands bound to his sides, mouth forced wide by my straps of skin, his head forced back and attached to the wall, ready to begin receiving the law, ready for me to begin shaping that unruly mass of ivy into something far more…orderly. My cock was the same dark, brusied shade as the rest of me, but much, much longer than it had been before, easily a foot and a half. As I felt my need boiling up, I realized I could control it, much like a snake, or a tail, the head sliding around Cumster’s chapped lips before worming down into him, sliding down his throat, feeling even his experienced body gag at the intrusion, until I was planted deep, and began to thrust, fucking his throat, feeling my cum begin to pump and flow right into his guts. He shivered. I imagine, it felt cold, and harsh, sitting in his belly like mercury, slowly leeching out into the rest of his body. I imagine it felt like death–not like the death of Steven, which had been a death full of vitality, and pain, and heat. More like a drowning. Feeling his mind swallowed up in the chill of my law, his senses deadening, his sense of self diminishing bit by bit. I filled him up, the pleasure…so strong, that all I wanted to do was keep pumping until he was bursting with me, but I held back, withdrew, and allowed him to stew with that. There would be time for more, later, and my cock retracted into the sheath that had formed along my belly. For now, there were beasts that needed my law more than he did.

I left then, leaving the three of them bound, knowing I would deal with them all in turn, once my task was through. Listening to Cumster’s tale had cost me several hours of time, and the city was large…but like before, in the restaurant, when I could feel that disorder all around me when the thing was near, I could still feel it on the air…but it was stronger than it had been. Obviously, after escaping the restaurant, it had found a different feeding ground, and likely other victims to its desires. It was strong enough to make the hunt easy, however, and so I set off to find it, eager to dance with it again–and this time, I knew I would conquer it, and bring it under the sway of my law.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 6 (Part 3)

Cumster had heard me coming down the stairs, but hadn’t bothered to look over at me, and see me in my new skin. Confident, as always, but then, he didn’t know why the Bruiser, why my kin, had sent him to find me. To free me, yes, but he was also a gift, and that, he didn’t yet understand. Marcus saw me first, then, and when he saw me, he screamed. I don’t blame them for their terror, really, the law can be frightening to behold. I stepped to him, feeling strips of my skin unravelling into bonds, lashing out, tethering him to the floor in a matter of moments, keeping him on his knees there, mouth gagged, unable to move an inch. Cumster had stepped back with Marcus’ scream, and just watched as I bound him, and looked over at me, unable to understand what he was looking at. “You…what happened to you?” he stammered.

I could feel my once human body aching for his cum, as it had been trained, but that body was no longer…my entire being. Still, I did want him. I could see him so much better now, understand him. He tried to get away from me as I approached him, running my dark hands over his matter hair and sticky skin, feeling him shudder at the sensation. He looked at my eyes–and that was when he recognized me. “You’re…you’re like him, like Master, but…but what are you, you don’t smell like him…”

“I think it is time that you were entirely honest with me, Cumster,” I said. My voice…it sent shivers through everyone in the world, and Marcus moaned as an orgasm ripped through him, puddling between his knees on the floor. “Tell me about him, everything you know.”

He tried to knot his tongue and lips, but my word is as much the law as everything else I am–he couldn’t resist me. He picked up his story close to where he had ended it the night before. He couldn’t tell me about that night, the night that he had finally supplanted Steven, because he couldn’t quite remember it well himself. It was fragmented–the bruiser, the master, had finally spoken to him, then, told him he was ready to be unchained…and that night, he had thought he would die. The bruiser…beat him. Beat him, over and over, raped him harder than he had at any point before, and while Steven could feel himself dying, and weakening, and losing himself, someone else was rising up to the surface, and as he did, the brusier grew gentler–not loving, but nurturing, in a sense, helping Cumster grow free of the bits of Steven that remained around him, using them to fuel himself…and when it was done, Steven was dead, and Cumster was finally free. The recovery was rapid, despite everything–even his broken bones had mended, seemingly overnight, under the bruiser’s hands. But even after he was healed, he kept changing…growing from the remnants of that old life over the next several months, until he was finally free of the literal chains–because he no longer needed them.

The next several years were glorious–he fell in with a biker gang, allegedly straight, but soon they were using him as their communal cumdump, and the more they were with him, the dirtier they all became. He had that effect on everyone, he discovered–all they had to do was catch a whiff of his cum soaked body, and they would be adding their own loads to him before long. His physiology had changed in other ways–he no longer needed food, though he still enjoyed it. No–it was cum that sustained him, entirely. While his own could keep him alive, it never filled him–it was only the loads of other men that could keep him fully sated.

On occasion, master would find him. Cumster never could understand how he knew where he was, but he would serve him whenever he arrived, as thanks for the new life he had given him. Each time Cumster saw him, he would seem…different. Larger, more potent, but the change was so slight, he never realized it had been happening until prison. He’d been caught helping the gang run some drugs, and gotten a twenty year sentence–and it had been difficult. Thankfully, between his cellmate and the guards, he was able to keep up his diet, but beyond that, prison was misery. He wanted to roam, and ride…and being trapped in a cell was torturous for his soul…but somehow worse, was that master never came to see him there, not for years. Not, in fact, until four or so months before we received the 911 call that began all of this.

It was in the middle of the night, when he was awoken by one of his regular guards unlocking the door to Cumster’s cell–and he was in rough shape, with a black eye…and a very distinct hard on in the front of his pants. With him, was Master–but not as Cumster had known him before. He was…bigger. Purer, and the musk rolling off of him…Cumster was on his knees, servicing him, before the thought had barely formed in his mind…because no thought had formed, really. It was pure instinct overtaking him, as well as his cellmate and the guard, who fell into fucking along with them. Master finished quickly and without much fuss, covering Cumster in a massive load, and then shut the cell door behind them, leaving the guard in Cumster’s place, for the moment. They did a quick tour of the prison, to the warden’s office, and in short order Cumster was released, on the outside, and Master told him he had a job for him to do.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 6 (Part 2)

It slid onto me, and I tried to see it as my uniform, tried to find the creases and patches, the buttons and seams, but the surface was alien to me, and as it conformed to my flesh, it began to shift and change further. My skin…like a bruise, all over, until it was no longer a pink, or the dark navy of the cured skin, but rather something purple and red, the hairs pushing their ways through, my hands still black, but the fingers too long, the nails nearly claws. I could feel it climbing up my neck towards my face, but it stopped before overtaking me entirely. Instead, I could see dark veins running up into my cheeks and neck, like an infection, but I felt stronger than I had earlier in the restaurant, I felt complete. That, and my eyes. They were black–entirely black, and yet I felt like I could see everything.

All my life, ever since I was a child, I had felt…two things, but I had never understood them as things until that moment. On one hand, a darkness. It had clung to me for as long as I could remember. At times, it manifested as someone else. An imaginary friend, or someone I saw in dreams. I was convinced it couldn’t exist, and so, it didn’t, but it had clung to me all the same. Tied to that darkness, was an anger, or a longing, or a hole I longed to fill, but not a hole in me, but holes in the world around me. People…doing wrong, doing ill. Or at least, it was tied to right and wrong in me, but now I see that was far too simplistic of a notion. It wasn’t morality that I wanted to fix, it was them! It was them that was wrong! There were rules, and laws…my rules and laws, they ought to have obeyed me, all of them, always, and if I had just listened earlier, if I had just listened.

I don’t look human, anymore. I think…I could, if I tried, if I…focused, but it feels too good, being together again, that I don’t want to, not yet. It feels better to be me at last, to remember everything that I am, and everything that I can do, to be able to hear myself fully at long last, to hear the law, feel it thrumming inside me. It was then, with my skin on, that I felt confident enough to confront whoever it was who had invaded my house. I checked the upper floors first, but nothing seemed to be missing or out of place. The same with the ground floor–though when Jules saw me, in the kitchen…he began to scream through the leather gag I had forced around his mouth. I ignored him–I’d brought him back to get information from him, to try and find the rapist, but I realized, with my skin on…that I could feel him, because we were the same. The same kind.

But he had claimed Jules, or rather, Jules had been claimed by one of his disciples, and so he wasn’t mine to have…though I could imagine plenty that I could do him. Still, any information he would have was rather unimportant–there were bigger questions I needed answers to now, and I imagined it was time to get them from the one person I knew who had them.

At the basement steps, I heard the moans coming from below, and realized what must have happened. My prisoner must have taken care of the intruder on his own. I stepped down into the basement, and saw what I began with–Marcus, on his knees in front of Cumster, licking at the biker’s cock where he was still handcuffed to the pipe on the wall, naked. Marcus’s balls were…engorged, much as mine had become, but then, that was what Cumster did, and he did it well. Such…a simple creature. I could see now, deeper inside him, how that singular drive had been nurtured and grown to eclipse all else inside him, like ivy choking out a tree until all you could see were vines. Overgrown, though. In need of a pruning, and a shaping. In need of law.

Marcus, I could understand him better as well, and Bernard too–what kind they were. The drive was there, but the material was lacking. A brick of clay that desired to become a sword. There was no helping men like this–they couldn’t sustain the form of what they most desired, and so there was nothing the bruiser could do for them. They lacked a solid will, and with no where for it to live, no law could shape them, and so there was little that I could do either. This, in some ways, was the closest they could get–well, there were things I could do to alleviate the misery, I realized, and perhaps it would be a kindness, in the end. After all, what kind of life could there be, knowing you had been rejected by us? Finding out that, after all of your searching and desperation, that your nature was such that you had failed before you had even begun to live? It was no wonder, they searched for him after he abandoned them (I don’t blame him for abandoning them, for no amount of explaining, no words can really articulate the loss, and the sorrow we feel as well) because how could you get so close, how could you think you had finally found your salvation, the hammer to shape you on the anvil of punishment, only to be tossed away for imperfections you couldn’t help? I do hope Bernard found some solace in a Master, somewhere. Marcus, in the end, had to be helped in other ways.

The Bruiser Rapes – Episode 6 (Part 1)

I…stepped down into the basement, where Marcus and Cumster were, and I saw their eyes when they saw me, when they saw the law coming for them, and…

No–I want to get to the basement, because what happened down there eclipsed everything else that had happened to me so far, but that didn’t happen yet. But everything is too hard to recall now, because time…time is so slippery now? It didn’t feel like that before, but now everything around me is sliding about, and all I want to do is anchor, strap it down, pin it like some butterfly in a display case. I’ve been missing for so long, I’ve allowed so much chaos out into the world, and nothing is ordered. The law has been forgotten by these mortals, if they ever knew it, if they ever could have abided it. I was so much more than I ever thought I could be, I was so blind.

So yes, the basement happened, but not first. First, the house was broken into, I didn’t know by who then. The fear I felt…I couldn’t name it. I had just done some strange, indescribable battle with some nightmarish beast, but never had I felt fear then. But knowing that my house had been violated, and that my skin had been there, unguarded–skin, that’s what it is now, not what it was, or it was, but I didn’t know how to wear it. My uniform was there, the uniform I had peeled away after my night with Cumster in the basement, after I had begun to stir at last, after so long, and I’d not even known what it was! My own skin!

I remember binding Jules in the kitchen, and then didn’t spare him another thought, as I raced up to my room, throwing open my closet, and I don’t think I breathed until I saw in hanging there, where I had left it like some fucking fool, and I knew that before anything else, before finding the person who had violated my home, I need it on me, the uniform, though it didn’t even look like a uniform anymore, not really.

The navy had darkened–not to black, but to some bottomless blue, the ocean so deep down it gets only scraps of light. I touched it with my gloved hands, felt the rubber like texture, but what sent a shiver up my arms was realizing that it was warm. It was…alive, it was a skin. My skin. My true skin, the skin of the thing inside me, the thing that had been sleeping, that is, me. It can’t be written, what we are. What we always have been. Maybe before, I could have described it, but I’m too close to it now, I can’t get the distance I would need to distinguish us.

I tore off the clothes I was wearing. Tore them–I didn’t bother undressing myself, I knew I would never need them again–and only left on my boots and my gloves, which I couldn’t have taken off, even had I wanted to. They are my skin too–I could see how, after wearing them for just a few hours, they had already begun to fuse into the other flesh below. It was why I could…feel everything through the palm of my gloves, like there was no barrier at all–because now there truly isn’t one. I tried to pull the shirt and pants apart, but they refused to part–in the closet, they had joined together into a single piece of skin, but the chest was still undone, allowing me to step into the legs and pulling everything else up around me as a single piece. The fit was tight, but not uncomfortable–rather, as soon as it was on me, I found it hard to believe I had ever even removed it. The idea of ever taking my skin off just seemed incomprehensible, and the fact that I was already thinking of the uniform as a skin disturbed me, because I was still, am still, I suppose, trying to fight this.

I kept it at bay for so long, inside me. I don’t know how I did it, how I quelled it. The Bruiser couldn’t keep it in, obviously–now that I know, now that it’s out and a part of me, I understand all of it better, I suppose, but it took Cumster to fill in the rest of the gaps–once he understood who I was, exactly…because my fellow had not been entirely honest with him, about whose den he was walking into. I was gentle though–I can be, at times. The law is firm, but obeying it need not be arduous, if you only live it inside you.

Live it inside you, what sense is that even? You reading this will never understand it in full, but I write it anyway. Find me, if you want to know, really know, what this is. If this tale fills you with a quaking need for me, if you know something inside you is…twisted, you know what I mean, if this is you. I can right you, I can order everything about you, all of your life will feel purpose driving you to the fate you should have had. He frees, that is all he knows how to do. Sees the desires inside you, the ones you can’t bare to follow, and unshackles you from your own doubt and terror. I’m different. We are all different, in our own ways. Choice is meaningless, when one has the law inside you. My law is strict, but living it feels like the most natural state in the world, once it has settled in your guts.