Halloween at Pigtown #1

        Harvey parked a few blocks away from the club, looked around to make sure there was no one around who might recognize him, and then climbed out of the car. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had gotten the invitation from the club for their Halloween party, especially since it was a gay club, but he had been known to swing both ways, always as a top, of course. He couldn’t risk tarnishing his BMOC credentials if it got out that he had pleasured someone other than himself. He was wearing baggy jeans and a hoodie pulled up over his head to give him some anonymity, and had the invite tucked in the pocket. After locking his car, he walked the two or three blocks over to the party.
Of course, there were at least five other parties Harvey had promised to attend, about one for each of the girls he was seeing publicly at the time, but when it came time to get ready, none of them had interested him. So instead, he was walking up to the door of a gay club, and the bouncer checking invitations at the door. He flashed the paper, and was let into an elaborately decorated entry hall, almost as though he was being let into an old mansion. The illusion was really quite good, with realistic cobwebs, and flickering candlelight. The oddest part was that the entire room had no windows, despite the fact that Harvey was sure he had seen windows on the outside. It was a bit disorienting, as he waited in line to be greeted by the bulky man dressed all in black, accompanied by a cloak and a cane. Next to him were two more overly muscled bouncers handing out costumes to the revelers, and directing them to a wall of changing rooms.
After a minute or two, Harvey was at the front of the line, and the man shook his hand. “Ah, Harvey Mansfield, the star quarterback! So glad you could fit us into your busy Halloween schedule,” he said, and then handed him a pile of clothes, “Jerome will direct you to your changing room. Enjoy the night!”
The large black bouncer directed Harvey quickly to a room, and nearly shoved him in, even before Harvey could realize what had happened. How had that man recognized him so quickly, and in his disguise? Harvey didn’t really care all that much, and took a look at the clothes the man had handed him. The pile was surprisingly bulky, and after a bit of investigation, Harvey saw that he had been given a very large and elaborate fat suit, along with a set of conservative business attire fit for someone fifty years older than him. It certainly wasn’t anything he was going to wear. He tried to exit the small room to complain, but it had been locked. On the opposite wall was another door, but that one was closed too. When he touched the door, a strange voice spoke from nowhere in particular, “Only those in their costumes can enter the party,” and said nothing more, though the room seemed to close in a bit on Harvey, as he continued jiggling the knobs. Before long, he was certain that the walls were going to collapse on him, and in a panic, he began stripping out of his clothes, and the walls began to recede.
It would be humiliating, but he could put it on for a moment, and then find his way out of this nut house without losing too much face. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone would recognize him in this getup. What did he have to lose? He unfurled the suit and climbed into it, finding it one piece, like a rubber body suit. The outside felt unnervingly real, and was covered all over with a pelt of white body hair. The front opened up, allowing him to step in to the feet of the suit, and pull it up around him. The fat suit was sagging, like it was unfilled, though Harvey wasn’t sure what he was supposed to fill it up with. Figuring it would all come clear eventually, he kept zipping it up, the gut swinging over and disguising the closure beneath it, though it too was saggy, as were the arms.
He expected that to be the entire suit, but he felt behind him a hood, which he pulled over his head, revealing itself to be a form fitting, rubber mask. The top was bald, aside from a horseshoe of curly hair around it, and a thin piece of rubber crossed above his mouth, giving him a bristly white moustache. The rest of the mask was covered with wrinkles, and in the mirror, even Harvey had to admit that he looked like he had the face of an old man. A low hissing filled the room, and the entire suit began to slowly expand, however, Harvey wasn’t sure what it was filling with. It sounded like air, but he could actually feel the weight piling on him. It also didn’t slosh like water. When it stopped, the illusion was complete, and the rest of him looked old and fat too. Of course, it still felt like a suit, which was some consolation, that at least it was an illusion. Just to check, he lifted up the heavy apron and saw his own cock pointing out, though the suit had absorbed much of its length, making it appear much smaller than it actually was. He certainly wasn’t going to be scoring any tail in this getup, but then again, he was only going to be wearing it long enough to get out of this freaky bar.
He quickly pulled on the business attire, starting with the very large briefs and undershirt, then pulling the navy pants up over his gut, and putting on and tucking the business shirt in, which felt more like a sheet of bedding than an item of clothing. Finally, he tied the tie around the neck and slipped on the loafers, and heard the door unlock behind him. He took a final look in the mirror, quite astounded by the realism of the illusion, if not the illusion itself. He looked around the grab his real clothes, but they weren’t where he had left them on the floor. In fact, they weren’t anywhere. The walls were beginning to close in again, and before he felt like he was going to suffocate, he opened the second door, and made his way out into the club, leaving his clothes behind.
The room he found himself in was a bar, but like everything else, had been entirely redecorated to look like a seedy biker bar. There was a jukebox in a corner playing country music, and a few guys dressed up as truckers and bikers drinking and chatting all around the room. Harvey immediately felt uncomfortable, and as fast as he could, walked out the nearest door, which he assumed would lead outside, but instead he found himself in a long, dark corridor with the occasional wall and doorway leading elsewhere into the complex. However, now Harvey was completely disoriented. The club couldn’t be that big, the thought, as he started off, dodging the occasional reveler stumbling down the hall. However, Harvey wasn’t used to his new weight, and by the time he had walked fifty feet, he was huffing and panting like the out of shape old man he looked like.
After another fifty feet, all he could focus on was finding somewhere to sit and rest, so he picked the nearest door and found himself in something resembling a strip club, well, an empty strip club. However, there were seats, so he sat down, and wiped his face with his sleeve, desperate to get rid of some of the sweat leaking through his mask. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a grandfather clock begin to chime, and the entire air stilled around him. By the second chime, Harvey had stopped moving too, listening as it rang again and again, and as it continued, a feeling of dread filled his now oversized stomach. It was the witching hour, anything could happen, he though, though he didn’t know why, as the clock struck a twelfth time and fell silent, Harvey exhaled, the only sound in the room, and a moment later, the room was filled with lights and a pulsing club beat.
Harvey was caught off guard for several moments, as he tried to adjust to the sound around him, when he could focus again, he saw that a young, muscular man dressed in nothing more than a thong had strutted out onto the stage and begun dancing around the pole in the middle of the room. “Hey big boy,” he called out, “Why don’t you come a bit closer?” and began grinding his groin against the pole.
Harvey was hot again, but for an entirely different reason. Pure lust and desire gripped him, as he heaved himself up and waddled down to where the muscleman was gyrating. He sat down again, never taking his eyes away, tweaking one of his nipples and rubbing his crotch suggestively. “Yeah man,” he said with a much deeper voice than he remembered having, “Shake that fuckin’ tight ass.”
“I can only shake it if it has the money to keep it goin’ mister,” the muscle man said innocently, and quickly, Harvey dug into one of his pockets and pulled out a fat wallet stuffed full of cash. He pulled out a five, and wheezing a bit, managed to tuck it into the band of the man’s thong. As the man began gyrating again, Harvey fell back into his seat and began tweaking his nipples again, amazed at how sensitive they were. That thought was followed by the realization that he shouldn’t be able to feel his nipples at all. Surprised, Harvey rubbed his massive body, and found that he could feel everything—from his sagging man tits to hefty gut and even his second and third chins. In a panic, he tried to pull his mask off, but found that it had disappeared. His face simply was wrinkled, his moustache was real, and his head was missing most of its hair.
“What’s wrong man?” the stripper asked, seeing Harvey distressed. He hoped down of the stage and began rubbing his hands all over Harvey’s fat body, “do you need a big strong muscleman to make you feel better?”
The lust roared back with a vengeance, and Harvey reached out to rub his hand along the man’s hard muscles, but he evaded his touch.
“You know the rules old man, if you want more, you got to pay more,” the stripper said, now rubbing Harvey’s nipples through his shirt.
Moaning and panting, Harvey pulled out his wallet and shoved two twenties at the man, then grabbed him and started rubbing his face into the muscular chest in front of him. “Fuck yeah, I love the way you young hunks smell,” he heard himself say, but it was true. Harvey did love the sweaty, masculine musk rolling off the body in front of him. The stripper began gyrating around, grinding his rock hard abs against Harvey’s face.
With one hand, he reached under his fat gut and started massaging his cock, but try as he might, he couldn’t get it hard, as horny as he was. The stripper reached down to help, and chuckled, “Having some trouble down there, Grandpa?”
Harvey blushed, but it was true. He hadn’t had an erection in at least fifty years. He’d tried everything—Viagra, Cialis, but nothing had helped, and with his high blood pressure, his doctor had told him it would be better to just live with impotence. Of course, being impotent doesn’t mean one stops wanting sex. Sure, Harvey might get a load out once a month, but that didn’t mean he stopped living his life in a haze of lust. “I just…have a bit of a problem, that’s all,” he grumbled defensively, “It doesn’t concern you.”
“Aw…I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Here, pay me a bit more, and I might be able to solve that little problem of yours,” the stripper said, and winked.
Harvey was disbelieving, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have enough money. He dug out a hundred, and handed it to the man, who tucked it into the string of his thong, and extended his hand to Harvey. The man helped him up, and then pushed him up against the stage, and began massaging Harvey’s fat body.
“Damn Grandpa, you’re huge!” the man said, laughing, and Harvey felt his face turn redder. He thought about saying something, but the man’s hands on his fatty rolls felt so good, he just moaned, and wished his cock was hard so he could jack it. Reaching around him, grinding his own hard bulge against him the whole time, the stripper reached around and undid Harvey’s pants, then pulled them down and let them fall around his ankles, revealing Harvey’s now fat, saggy and very hairy, ass cheeks. “Damn man, that’s quite a crevice. Good thing I got enough tool to get down there and more,” he said, as Harvey felt the man’s cock rub up and down his crack.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Harvey said, and tried to pull away, “That’s not what I thought you had in mind!”
“What, you can’t seriously be a virgin, can you?” The man said, pulling Harvey close again, “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” With a gradual push, he began to enter Harvey’s hole. Harvey expected it to hurt, and it did, but much more interesting, he felt a stirring in his crotch. Inch my massive inch, the man worked his cock deeper into Harvey, and true to his promise, he was gentle, loving even, coddling Harvey the whole way, until he had the old man begging for more. The stirring in his crotch had grown to a full on throb, and with an experimental grope, he reached down and found that his perpetually soft cock had actually expanded to half mast. At the same time, he felt the stripper pull out his cock, and thrust it back in slowly, making Harvey quiver.
“Oh…fuck…that feels so good,” Harvey moaned.
“Yeah, you old white men are all the same. ‘Oh I couldn’t possibly be a bottom’ they say, but as soon as you get a big, black cock up your ass, your tune changes real quick, don’t it? So, do you want me to fuck your ass? Do you want to be this big black man’s bitch for the evening?”
“Oh god, don’t stop. Take all the money you want, just please, fuck me!”
“Oh I don’t want money,” the black man said, “I want you to dance for me,” he said, and pulled his cock out of Harvey’s ass, making the old man whimper. His cock immediately returned to its flaccid state, and the relief he had longed for was now taken from him. The stripper had a seat in the front row, and eyed Harvey, stroking his thick cock, “Well, go on.” Hesitantly, Harvey began to sway and gyrate as best he could but the stripper shook his head. “Not down here, up there, on stage. Strip for me. Make me want that fat hairy body of yours.”
With a gulp, Harvey pulled his pants up, and slowly walked up the stairs onto the brightly lit stage. Part of him flashed back to his previous reality, and he refused to believe that he was about to strip for a man and beg him for his cock. No BMOC would ever do that! But he wasn’t a BMOC, was he? He was an obese, sexually frustrated business man who would do anything for release, even strip in front of a beautiful muscle man and humiliate himself so he might fuck him. The music was surrounding him, egging him on, and pulsating faster. Harvey loosened his tie, and began to gyrate, while the big black man hooted and catcalled, urging Harvey on to more and more perverse moves. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a tanktop stretched to the limit by his big gut. It shimmered for a moment, and suddenly Harvey was wearing a harness with thick leather straps running over his shoulders and under his man tits, emphasizing their size. He took one in his hand, and with some difficulty got it close enough to his mouth to lick his nipple, which made the stripper go wild, “There ya go Grandpa, now we’re getting somewhere!”
As Harvey undid his belt and slid down his pants, revealing the black cotton jockstrap he was wearing, he said to the stripper in front of him, “You know, I don’t even know your name.”
“Well, Grandpa,” he said, still stroking his massive, black meat, “Why don’t you just call me Big Daddy.”
Big Daddy—for some reason, that sounded just right to Harvey. He turned around, gyrated his massive ass and said, “So what do you think of my ass Big Daddy?”
“Why I think it’s just marvelous Grandpa,” the man replied, “Why don’t you shove something up there to get ready for my cock?” He tossed something onto the stage, and as Harvey bent over seductively to grab it, he saw that it was a thick black dildo, though not as large as Big Daddy’s cock. Unable to help himself, he started licking the shaft up and down, getting it good and wet. He bent over, using the stripper pole for support, and after a bit of work, got it lined up with his hole and started working it in, moaning all the while. After a moment, he realized that he was speaking, though he couldn’t control the words falling from his mouth, “Oh Big Daddy, I want your cock shoved up my old loose asspussy so bad, I’d do anything. Oh, it feels so good to have your hard cock buried up there, it’s the only thing that can get my cock hard.”
“Well, see if you can get some satisfaction with that fuck stick there. Big Daddy loves watching his Grandpa shove a dildo up his ass.”
Happy to be pleasing his daddy, Harvey bent over and started ramming the dildo up his ass as hard and as fast as he could, moaning and grunting as he did. He was sweating all over, and his hair was matted to the side of his head, but he couldn’t stop. With one hand working the dildo, he rubbed his soft cock through the pouch of his jockstrap, now even more sexually frustrated. He needed his daddy’s cock, and he needed it soon, or he would never have relief. “Please daddy,” he begged, “Please shove your massive cock up my ass? I need it, I can’t live without it!”
“Oh you fuckin’ slut, “Big Daddy said, “You know just how to get me all hot and bothered,” he said, and hopped up on stage, taking over the task of working the dildo in and out of Harvey’s ass. “You want my cock? Then moan for me bitch, tell me what a sorry piece of ass you are.”
“Please daddy, I’m nothing without your cock. You complete me, even though I’m not worthy. Please, fuck me. Fuck me hard!”
“Are you a slave to my cock?”
“Yes daddy!”
“And I bet you’re a slave to every black cock you see, aren’t you?”
“God yes, I beg any young black man I see you fuck me silly.”
“Well, then it wouldn’t be very nice to keep that pussy of yours waiting, would it?” Big Daddy said, pulled the dildo out quickly, and replaced it with his own cock. While he might have been gentle before, he was vicious and rough now, slamming his massive cock deep into Harvey’s ass with each thrust. Every time sent a huge shiver through Harvey, who was uncontrollably jacking his own hardening cock and panting like a dog. His old body wouldn’t be able to take much more of this, but he couldn’t stop. He needed this young man to fill his white ass with his black spunk. Only then would he be able to cum.
“Yeah, jack that puny cock of yours, Grandpa, how does it feel to be a black man’s bitch? You tried keeping us down, but the truth is, you can’t beat us. All you old farts want our giant cocks up your asses. You beg, you plead, and if you ask nice enough, we’re always willing to be accommodating. Only we can give you that satisfaction you desire. Only we can give that old, saggy cock of yours release.” Big Daddy said as he began to piston in and out as fast as he could. Old, sour cum was now leaking out of Harvey’s rock hard cock, and he was meeting every one of Big Daddy’s thrusts, desperate to get his cock as deep as possible. Suddenly, Big Daddy shoved his cock in and held it there, grabbed Harvey around the belly, and turned them both around. Previously, Harvey had been staring at the back of the stage, but now that he was looking out, he saw that when he wasn’t looking the entire club had been packed with beautiful, young black men. The sight made Harvey’s mouth water, and Big Daddy resumed his fucking, much to the enjoyment of the crowd.
“Yeah Big Daddy, fuck me in front of all of your black brothers. Show them what a bitch I am for black cock!” Harvey said, and the room cheered and laughed. Harvey was embarrassed, but he couldn’t stop. The thrusts were coming faster now, and Harvey was jacking his cock wildly now, aching and shivering with lust.
“Yeah you fucking white pig! Take my big black load!” Big Daddy shouted, and began spraying his wad deep into Harvey’s bowels. At the same time, Harvey groaned and shot his own, much smaller load, dribbling his cum all over the stage. Out in the audience, men were calling him a pig bitch and a whore, making him blush, but the fires of lust continued to rage within him. He still needed so much release, but Big Daddy was already pulling out, leaving him empty.
“Please Big Daddy! Fuck me more, I need your cock!” he begged, making the men laugh some more.
Up front, a hulking black man stroking a cock even bigger than Big Daddy’s said, “I’ll fuck that disgusting, fat ass of yours pig if you clean my boots.” He climbed up on stage, and Harvey immediately got down on his knees and began licking the leather until it shown with his spit. “Yeah pig bitch, oink for me. Oink like the slut you are.”
Harvey did his best pig impression causing all of the men in the room to holler and cheer. They loved him, he thought as the black men got down behind him and shoved his cock into Harvey’s dribbling hole, and he loved their cocks. “Yeah sir, fuck my fat white cunt!” Harvey yelled, “Everyone fuck my nasty sluthole!” The men cheered, and began to line up for a chance at the old bitch’s newly popped cherry.

Continued from here:

Trent tried to fight them–the thoughts in his head that told him that this was normal, but he wasn’t supposed to look like this, no matter how much he loved looking at himself in the mirror. The overly tanned body, inflated pecs, the disgusting porn star mustache ..he was supposed to be some rough and tough marine, not this disgustingly hot and sexy faggot. He flexed and tugged on his cock, his worries suddenly distant, the moment of clarity over.

“Ready for your big debut?” a voice said behind him–Master, his owner, his love. Every doubt suddenly evaporated, Master coming up and yanking on Trent’s teats, making the muscle man groan in a high pitched voice. “I think the men are gonna love you tonight, especially your dance with Rudy.”

“Ooo, yeth Thir,” Trent purred, “I love danthing.”

“I know you do bitch. Now get out there and make me proud.”

Trent took one last look in the mirror, trying to remember what he’d been thinking about, but it was gone. Dancing mattered more anyway, he thought as he pulled on his green jock, and walked out to his waiting fans.

One Change #3 – Justice

With this power, why wouldn’t someone go around trying to right a few wrongs as well? Certainly a few changes were devoted to trying and correct injustices made against people in the past and to try and give criminals and bullies what they deserve. Here was a good example–Mr. White.

He looks like a nice man, right? A good neighbor, a delightful old character? Unfortunately, he had a history of abusing children, and when the person responsible for these changes learned about what he’d done from a grown victim, he knew that something had to be done about it. It turned out that Mr. White had an entire basement in his home where he did his work–so the Changer decided that–before Mr. White had harmed anyone, he should have been kept locked up in a dungeon himself.

Not very pretty no, but fitting. The new Mr. White was kept chained in a cage in a basement by a cruel master–aside from the times he was being fucked, fisted or beaten into submission. Sure, the new Mr. White didn’t know why he deserved this treatment, but it was better to spare his victims as far as the Changer was concerned. Besides, the new Mr. White had long since accepted his role, after nearly fifty years of slavery, and he derived plenty of satisfaction from it now.

Of course, not every punishment needed to be so extreme. Sometimes it was better just to force the culprit into a fitting new life, as was the case with Vinnie.

Living as a redneck, he was fond of bullying and beating up anyone remotely resembling a faggot in his eyes, and the Changer could sense that this was born from his own questionable sexuality. Vinnie also loved violence–it helped him get off. So, instead of being turned on by violence, the Changer decided to make him thrilled by men looking at him instead.

The new Vinnie certainly wasn’t a redneck–he’d moved to the city as soon as he’d saved enough for the train ticket. He’d wanted to be a star, but he’d settled for being a stripper at a local bear and leather bar. He loved the work, and the men loved him–his confidence, his thrill at being watched. The Changer was happy to find that this new Vinnie, living open, was much happier than the old one, and considered his work well done.

“Fighting it won’t do you any good Trent–soon you’ll be so used to obeying that you won’t even notice the necklace. Ah good, Luke and Rudy are here–they’re going to get you started on your training.
"Don’t they look nice in their uniforms? Luke has been with us for three years now. He came in one night while his ship was docked for a festival–and he quickly realized how much he preferred pole dancing to staying out at sea for months on end. And Rudy here–why he just finished his training course a few months ago. Apparently he’d caught wind of something strange going on here at the club. He’s too clumsy to be much of a dancer, but man, some guys just go wild for that pelt of his, and his hole is marvelously tight.
"I already have your new uniform waiting for you Trent–a hunter green jock, "Marines” embroidered on the front. One of those cute, camo caps of yours on your head. The men will pay good money to fuck the living daylights out of you. Don’t you worry, you’ll be a star.“