Taming the Beast (Part 9)

The door behind him clicked and opened, and Mark stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Jacob managed to pry himself away from the trough long enough to snarl and look at him, but then the beast forced him back down into the slop. “Now now, Jacob–don’t fret. You’ll be safe here, just like all of my other pets down here. You’ll meet them all eventually…well, maybe you will. It depends on how long you last, really, in there. After all, Beastie has met most of them already, haven’t you?”

He felt a grunt come out of his mouth, and sensed it was something affirmative. Mark stepped closer, and Jacob could…smell him. Had he smelt that…good before? He was wearing different clothes than he usually did, they were soaked with cum, with…so many different kinds, but mostly his own, and Jacob felt his…or rather, their cock hardening. Mark ran his hands over Jacob’s wide ass, feeling the crisp briefs he had on, and then tugged them down, giving him access to his crack, which he ran his own cock along, feeling Jacob’s body squirm in excitement.

“I must say, when I saw what you could do, back in the hospital, I knew I had to have you, but I never would have imagined you could be such a delight. Just my type–once you’re properly trained, I might even let you wander the house–just tell everyone you’re my pet hog, if anyone asks, not that anyone will, of course.”

“H-How?” Jacob managed to force out through a mouthful of food.

“How? How did I do it? It was easy–you know how. You’re weak. The beast was always the strongest part of you, you were just holding it back. I’ve set it free, and given it exactly what it has always wanted–the perfect life for a little beastie like him.”

Jacob tried to object, tried to talk to the beast in control of him, but Mark forced his cock into him then, and everything else…disappeared for a while. No–he disappeared for a while, like when he was hypnotized, and he didn’t resurface for…well, he didn’t know how long, exactly, but when he woke up later, the trough was empty, licked nearly clean, and his gut…ached. Ached, and it was so big–bigger than it had ever been before this, and from the smell of cum in the room, he’d just jacked off…but the cum smelled different than usual. It was hard to see, around the huge gut, but he managed to get a peek at it, and saw that it wasn’t…human anymore. So much of him wasn’t human anymore. He was a freak, an animal. He felt something chaffing his neck, and felt a steel collar there, padlocked on, and he wanted to break it, wanted to tear it to shreds, but the beast just…laughed at him. A hyena like laugh in his mind, and he started to recede again, falling back into the darkness of himself.

It was true, wasn’t it. He was weak. He’d always been the weakest. But this wasn’t freedom. He screamed at the beast, telling him he thought this was freedom, but he was nothing. Just a pet, a slave, some sexual freak. All he received back was a silence, and then a pressure, a force driving him back down into the dark, and he was gone again. The beast felt him recede, and laid back on the floor of his room.

The man was right, he supposed. He was nothing more than a pet, really. No better than he’d been with Bacanal, no better than he’d been when locked away by the man. He could get free…maybe, but he was so used to gluttony, sloth and lust now, that it was hard to imagine the fierce forms it had taken back in the hospital. What did it matter, in the end? He was a pet, but he was satisfied. He was a sex freak, but he’d never experienced pleasure like this before. It was slavery, but it you got everything you wanted, wasn’t that just as good as freedom, in a way? The door clicked, and swung open. Beastie crawled through it, and saw Cumrag there in the room, tied up, ass up, and he went over and shoved his snout into the man’s hole and licked. He liked the taste of this one. Liked how he moaned when Beastie fucked him, liked how eager he was for attention, and especially liked how rough he could be with him.

Months passed by. Jacob surfaced less and less, and every time he did, there was less of him that came back from the darkness. Without context, he couldn’t really distinguish between himself in the beast…and by the time he realized the beast’s mind was actually absorbing him, it was too late for him to even consider what it might mean to resist. Mark thought about intervening, but it would have been a substantial amount of work…and really, what good was he to anyone? Beastie was truly the better half–best to just do away with what wasn’t necessary. Beastie kept growing, helped by his constant, massive meals, and after six months he was nearly eight feet tall, and weighed close to a ton. Mark had been forced to renovate two of the other rooms into one sizable pigpen, with a mud hole which he and his pet enjoyed fucking in regularly. After a year, Beastie couldn’t even recall a time when he hadn’t lived with his master, as his pet. It was simply who he was–and he couldn’t imagine any life he could want more than this one.

Taming the Beast (Part 8)

Jacob didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t feel like he was getting better, certainly…but he did trust Mark, didn’t he? After all, he never would have gotten out of the hospital at all, if it hadn’t been for his help, and if Mark thought he was a danger to anyone at all, he knew that he would never let him hurt someone else again. He decided to do as he suggested, and trust that he would pull his way out of the slump soon, and things would become a bit more normal…but were things becoming normal, or was he just getting used to how filthy his life had become? Men kept coming around to see him, men he couldn’t even remember calling, and the sex he had with them was getting…stranger. He fucked them, always, but also took to soaking them down in his piss, and covering them in his cum, making sure that when they left, they smelled like him…like his property, like his mates.

Then, he went into another rage at work, and this time went too far–they fired him on the spot, and he was just…so frustrated, so angry, and he didn’t feel like he had anywhere to put it…so he ate. He ate, and he fucked, and he drank, and he didn’t rest for days. The next appointment with Mark blew past without him even thinking about it, he just didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to exist. It was two days after that, when Mark arrived at his door…and he was so relieved to see him, that he fell to his knees and sobbed. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore. He couldn’t trust himself, he’d given the beast too much control because…because he was weak. So weak. That’s what Mark told him, that he’d spent so long with the beast out, that he didn’t have the capacity to contain him anymore. Jacob didn’t want to believe it, it couldn’t be true…but when Mark hauled him up and dragged him into the bathroom to look at himself–really look at himself, he was terrified.

It wasn’t his face in the mirror. Or, it was kind of his face, but it was…twisted and bestial, with a snout pushing out around his mouth and nose, two tusks pushing out from his lower jaw, the hair on his head and beard looking more like boar bristle than human hair. He begged Mark to take him back to the hospital, to take him somewhere where he would be safe…but Mark told him he thought the hospital would be the worst possible thing for them both. The beast would panic. He would fight, and turn vicious, and most likely, Jacob in his weakened state wouldn’t be able to regain control, and in the end, he’d just be locked up in a cage for the rest of his life, in a ultramax prison with the rest of the villains of the world. But he wasn’t a villain, right? No–he just needed some time to get back on his feet…but he did need to be supervised. Mark graciously offered him a room down in the basement of his house, and Jacob was so thankful he didn’t think twice. So thankful in fact, that he sucked the doctor’s cock, right there in his apartment. It was just…the right thing to do. To show how much he respected him. To show him how important he was. Some time under the doctor’s direct care was just what he needed. He left with him, not wanting to wait in case the beast resisted, and they got to Mark’s home shortly before dark. They went downstairs and into a large, bare room with several doors on each wall. Mark ushered him into one of them, and while it wasn’t much larger than the room he’d had in the hospital, he should be appreciative, shouldn’t he?

Mark shut the door behind him, and told him he would be back soon with some food for him, and Jacob couldn’t shake the sense of unease he was feeling. The beast had hated being stuck in the hospital, and he’d been certain it would fight this too. But it hadn’t. If anything, he felt better now than he had in his apartment. Safer. Like everything was working out exactly like he thought it should…except it wasn’t. He had none of his things, not even a change of clothes or a toothbrush–not that he’d been using one lately. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going. He looked around, but there wasn’t a phone anywhere, or a TV…or really anything. There wasn’t even a bed, or a window, just some lights inset in the wall behind glass or plastic. It was a cell. He was in a cell.

He went to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. He was locked in here–he’d let himself get trapped in here, like an idiot! Still, the door was nothing compared to what the beast was capable of, right? He focused, trying to reach for it, trying to harness it…but while it was there, it was calm. No–more than calm, it was relaxed, and watching him panic, and enjoying this. It wanted to be here.

There was a loud thunk from the long wall of the cell, and the bottom foot or so angled out, revealing a shallow trough running the entire length. A moment later, slop slid down into, steaming slightly, and Jacob felt his gut rumble, and the beast licked its chops. No–no, he licked his lips, right? Jacob was still trying to understand what was happening to him in his mind, as his body lowered itself down onto his hands and knees and crawled over to the trough, shoving his short snout into it and devouring as much of it as he could, as quickly as he could, while it was still warm and delicious.

Taming the Beast (Part 7)

The whole rest of the week, Jacob noticed that he was feeling a bit…strange. Well, strange wasn’t really the best way to describe it–what he was mostly feeling, was hungry. Hungrier than he could really ever remember being in the past, in fact. His meals doubled in size, much to his dismay, but whenever he tried to exert a bit of self-control, it would crumble by the time he ate next, and he’d end up gorging himself until he could barely move. It became a problem at work especially, being around food all the time. He would sneak snacks right off the grill or out of the fryer, and afterwards, started taking home anything that was leftover and would usually be thrown out, and stuffing himself with it before going to bed for the night.

As unnerving as it was, he hesitated bringing it up with Mark. He was just so happy being out of the hospital, and he knew that at the first sign of a setback, he could be readmitted immediately. So he did his best to pretend like nothing was going on at all, as he watched his weight steadily creep upward on the scale he kept in the bathroom, until in a fit of shame and panic he threw it out and went on a weekend long binge, cleaning out his cupboards and fridge, stopping only to masturbate every few hours–though he found it easy enough to do both things at the same time. That was the final straw. He had to talk to Mark about this, even if it meant going back to the hospital. This had to be something to do with the beast–there was no other explanation that he could think of for these sudden urges.

At their next session, before Mark hypnotized him, Jacob told him about what had been happening to him. About the binging, and the fact that he seemed to be masturbating more and more often. Mark was troubled by the new developments, and they talked about it for a while, trying, together, to determine whether what was happening posed a danger to him, or to anyone else. In the end, Mark left the decision up to Jacob, if he wanted to go back to the hospital or not–and Jacob told him this was something he’d rather deal with himself. It felt so good being back out in the world, and he wasn’t ready to go back to being locked up again, not until he felt like he couldn’t handle this himself. Mark told him that he would have a word with the beast, and see if he could understand what this sudden shift in behavior might mean. He seemed to be under for…a very long time. Several hours, at least, and when he came too again, Mark was sitting across from him, though his face was rather grave.

“Was…was everything alright?” Jacob asked him, sitting up from the couch where he’d been lying down.

“Yes, I mean, these compulsions of yours do seem to be related to the beast, but…well, I can’t know anything without further observation. I think the best thing you can do is try to resist them as best you can. Keep track if possible–how often you binge, how often you masturbate, anything else that sticks out to you as odd. We’ll try to get a baseline for the behavior, and see if it gets worse, alright?”

Jacob did his best for a few days, but he kept forgetting about keeping a journal, and the whole exercise just…didn’t interest him much at all. Work was the same. Over the next few weeks, he found himself getting aggravated at his boss and coworkers, and would on occasion break out into a sudden rage that would catch him off guard. He didn’t do any real harm, aside from a couple of broken dishes, but the fact that it kept happening…it terrified him. Was he really ready to be out here with people? He found himself wondering about every tic and every thought, and the constant self-awareness was exhausting. He started oscillating between days where he would try to constantly check himself, and days where he would give up and just indulge in…everything. He would stuff himself, drink excessively, masturbate over and over, miss work, and even fuck on occasion. Men–always men, something he had never done before in his life, but he loved it, and the rougher he got with them, the harder he came–and most of them came back for seconds.

It was Mark who brought up his hygiene one session, awkwardly, like he’d been hoping Jacob would mention it finally, without him having to bear the burden of broaching it. Without having to humiliate Jacob with the knowledge that he hadn’t even noticed how dirty he was becoming. He hadn’t trimmed his beard in weeks at that point, and it was coming in thick–much thicker than he could remember it looking the last time he’d tried growing one out. The same went for his hair, which was quite long, as well as the hair on the rest of his body, which was filling in thicker than he knew it should over his now substantial gut. Looking down at himself, and paying attention to it, he realized that he couldn’t clearly recall the last time he’d taken a shower, and he also couldn’t remember when he’d last changed his clothes. He’d been wearing the same outfit for work without washing it for over a week, which no one had complained about out of fear it might set one of his rages off, and he hadn’t changed the underwear beneath that in…a month? More? It was wet, at the moment, since he’d jacked off before coming over, but he could smell cum…so much cum. They were saturated, as was the undershirt he was wearing. He felt ashamed of himself, ashamed that he was losing so much control, so quickly, without even realizing it in the moment. He couldn’t trust himself, he couldn’t be trusted with himself, but he also couldn’t bear the thought of going back to that hospital either…though he knew Mark was going to call for it.

But to his surprise, Mark didn’t. In fact, he told Jacob that he thought he’d been improving, and after the session he seemed really pleased with how Jacob was progressing. These new behaviors were a surprise, sure, and might be difficult to adjust to, but he was going to have to deal with the fact that the beast inside him was, from now on, most likely going to be a more immediate presence in his life. The best thing he could do, in Mark’s opinion, was keep it satisfied, and likely, in a few more weeks, they’d manage to reach a new equilibrium. It might not be what Jacob wanted, necessarily, but this was most likely the course his power was going to develop. Fighting it would likely only make it worse.

Taming the Beast (Part 6)

The good thing about Cumrag, was that he had the stamina and the vitality to take pretty much anyone Mark brought down here–and Mark had a feeling this beast was going to be a rough fucker. He took one look at the beast standing in the central room, and had a feeling he knew what his Master wanted from him…and he was looking forward to it. He hadn’t been used in weeks now, and he hated it. Hated how lonely it could be down here, just jacking off, fantasizing about his Master using him–needing him–though why anyone would need a cumrag like him was beyond his limited comprehension. “What do you need, Master?”

“Get in the sling cumrag, and don’t talk. Your voice is grating.” Cumrag nodded, and hopped up into the sling, cape hanging under him, and Mark secured his legs up in the holsters, before stepping to one side and displaying him for the beast. “I know you were used by other patrons, on occasion, but please–have your way with the thing. I assure you–it can take anything you want to give, it’s more resilient than it seems, physically at least.”

The beast didn’t hesitate. While it had often serviced people in the bar, it had only rarely gotten the opportunity to fuck…and the few times it had, had been incredibly enjoyable. He assumed that the doctor was telling the truth, and rammed his cock in roughly, not bothering to worry about Cumrag’s feelings, and while he had to muffle a gasp of surprise, his hole opened easy and wide. In less than a minute, the beast was gripping Cumdump’s thighs, slamming his massive cock in up the the hilt, listening to the sloppy sounds of the one-time-hero’s now totally loose hole, the cumrag’s eyes rolling back in his head, helplessly jacking off, so thrilled to be used again, even if it wasn’t his master using him.

“Just think–this hole could be yours at any time, whenever you desire it,” Mark said, coming close to the beast, stroking his burly, hairy arm, leaning in to sniff at his foul musk. “You could indulge your every base desire, explore all of the pleasures of the Earth, right here. His isn’t the only hole I possess either. There are others, and if you please me, you can fuck as much as you want, my handsome beast,” He turned the beast’s muzzle to him, stood on his toes, and licked at his snout, the beast extending his tongue and kissing him as best he could, breath hot and panting as he fucked harder, getting closer and closer to the edge. “You’re have no idea what you’re capable of, you have no idea what you could become. I can help you–let me help you. Let me free you from the man’s shackles, and live here, as my beast, indulging in every profane desire you can imagine. Be mine, and I’ll give you pleasures you have never thought possible.”

The beast came soon after, letting loose with something between a grunt, growl and a roar, unloading a massive load of cum deep into the hero’s hole, and the orgasm was nothing like he’d felt before, when he’d been with Bacanal. Back then, everything had felt good, all the time–but this was a pleasure unlike anything the beast had experienced before, and it lasted for ages. He ended up sitting on the ground while Mark rubbed and pet him, pulling out his own cock, and coaxing it into the beast’s mouth. After all, it was only fair, wasn’t it, that if the beast got to use one of Master’s holes, that he allow master to use his hole as well. It was the price of his freedom down here–that when Master wanted him, he would have him as well, just like he had all of his other Supers down here.

Was it worth it? The beast, in the end, was convinced. After all, it was going to be owned one way or another, and the idea of ownership Jacob had for him was somehow more humiliating–using his strength ang his speed, but never allowing the beast a moment of gratification or pleasure…no, what the doctor was offering, what master was offering, was far better. They went back upstairs together, and Mark put the beast away in Jacob’s mind again, watching the bestial form fade away, and return to Jacob’s usual body. Only then, did he breathe a sigh of relief, and relax. The hard part was over now–he had his inside man. Everything else would be much, much simpler now. He brought Jacob back from his deep dream, but didn’t wake him yet–no they had quite a bit that they needed to discuss. A while later, Jacob woke up feeling refreshed…and famished. Mark offered him dinner, and Jacob was more than happy to take him up on the offer, though he admitted afterward that he made a bit of a pig of himself, eating as much as he did. Still, Mark hadn’t minded in the least–he’d just kept piling Jacob’s plate higher and higher, watching, cock half hard, already excited to watch the rest of his plan fall into place.

Taming the Beast (Part 5)

The beast looked around the room, perhaps a bit confused. It was, after all, the first time Mark had woken it outside of the hospital, so it was likely wondering where, exactly, it was. “This is my home,” Mark said, “The prison where you were has decided that Jacob is…less of a risk, and allowed him to leave.”

The beast gave a few snorts, almost like laughter, and then leered at Mark.

“Remember, you would have never gotten out of there without my help, and if you harm me, there are much worse prisons where they could place you. No–I have something else I would like to…suggest instead,” Mark said. “After all, I know what you want. You want to be free–and you want all of the earthly pleasure you had before, isn’t that right? Most of all though, I know that you do not like being subservient to Jacob.”

The beast snorted again.

“I would offer you something else, other than the occasional moment of freedom. I can give you a life here, with me, one that I think you will enjoy. After all, you liked your life before, didn’t you? In the bar?”

They had discussed it before, but the beast had always been…on the fence, for reasons Mark could understand. The beast had traded complete subordination to Jacob’s ego for a different kind of enslavement, to a very different master. It was reluctant to admit it, but Mark could sense the truth–the beast had liked it, very much. The pleasure, the gluttony, the revelry, the sex. It hadn’t mattered that the beast obeyed a master, so long as it was satisfied. The pleasure made the collar bearable. But more than that–the beast might long for freedom, but it had never known it–it had only ever existed under someone else’s control–and Mark wasn’t about to give it a chance to know any better any time soon, before it knew what it could be.

The beast nodded, hesitantly. It knew Mark wanted something–but Mark had been upfront about that. He had discussed it somewhat, that the beast was…wasted here. That it was meant for something more, and Mark could help it understand its true purpose.

Mark stood up, and crossed the short distance to the beast, enjoying the musk rolling off the thing’s hide. That had been a pleasant surprise as well–Mark had a certain…delight in that. He ran his hands over the beast’s belly, gentle circles, waiting until it relaxed under his hands, and then worked lower, both hands stroking its cock. “You can have that life again. All the food you could want, all the drink. Holes to fuck and dominate. But you can’t do that outside of here–they will find you, and trap you in another cage…and you can’t do it with him, so long as Jacob holds any sway over your body. No–we will have to deal with him, seal him away like he sealed you away, all those years. He deserves that, don’t you think?”

The beast snorted its approval, but whether or not it was listening to what Mark was saying wasn’t clear. It could have simply been enjoying the hand job–but it certainly wasn’t resisting.

“After all, we can both agree that you are the strong one. You’re the one who should be in charge, the one whose needs are paramount. But you won’t be able to do it without me, and if you want my help, then you are going to have to do as I say.”

The beast hesitated, and Mark stepped back.

“You don’t have to decide right now. But downstairs, I can give you a taste of the life I can offer you. Follow me.”

The beast heaved himself up from the sofa, and followed Mark around the corner and down a hallway, to a locked basement door. It was a tight squeeze down the staircase for the sizable animal, but at the base, it opened up into a open area outfitted as a sex dungeon–slings, paddles, bondage racks. Around the walls of the room were several doors, all of them locked as well. Mark went to one of them opened the door, “Hey Cumrag! Get out here–I have someone for you to entertain.”

After a couple of moments, a man stumbled out of the room, wearing nothing other than a cape around his shoulders–or at least, something that had been a cape at one time. Cumrag was one of Mark’s earliest acquisition from the hospital–a strongman Super with a rather weak will, who had been mind controlled and turned to a life of crime for a few years until he was freed. He’d struggled a lot at the hospital in Mark’s care–he didn’t know how to regain his moral center, and felt like he couldn’t trust himself. Mark agreed. Slowly, he’d worn him down, convinced him that everything that had happened was all because he was too weak to know better–that if anything, it had been good for him to be controlled by someone with some sense, good to keep his power away from the world, where he could hurt someone. He’d needed a new purpose in life, a new direction, and so Mark had suggested he help him out around the house, degrading him more and more until he, at last, accepted he was little more than an object. A cumrag. He’d been without a shower for years, at this point, and his skin and hair was caked with layers and layers of cum. The cape he still wore was rigid at this point, and when he was in storage down here, all Cumrag knew to do anymore was masturbate into his cape, his life as a hero forgotten forever–until his services were needed.

Taming the Beast (Part 4)

This is a double post, for today and tomorrow, because there was no good place to split lt!

Indeed, the beast had manifested after he’d been put under, but not immediately. Mark had guided him into a dream, a peaceful, happy dream with a friendly, fluffy dog, and when the beast came out, it was not the fierce, pacing monster he’d seen before. He was a reflection of Jacob’s own imagination–fluffy, happy, soft, and eager to be petted, apparently. It was a bit…strange to see everyone in the room petting him, when he could remember nothing at all of any of it, but he had to admit it was promising. He could, apparently, control the form and personality of the beast to some extent, through his dreams. Mark believed his control was likely stronger than that–that with some practice with guided imagery and meditation, he would likely be able to call the beast at any time, and control it’s form directly. Once he was showing progress along those lines, then he would be ready to rejoin the regular population of the hospital, and then, be released. That was something they were both desperate for, and so, Jacob agreed to give it a try.

It was frustrating work, at first. Jacob found it difficult to focus, and the beast bristled at Jacob’s attempts to harness and control him. Still, they forged an uneasy path forward, mostly with the help and guidance of Mark, who Jacob was beginning to think knew the inside of his own mind better than Jacob knew it himself. In time, he managed to come to an understanding with the beast–largely predicated on the snacks the beast received when it followed Jacob’s direction when manifesting. Mark seemed to enjoy that part the most–it was one of the rare times that he seemed to smile, when feeding the monster in his room a dog biscuit. Jacob could always taste them when he came back, and while it disgusted him to some extent, it did seem to be helping. He went one month without an episode in the night, and then two. He was allowed back into the ward’s general population, at last, and he’d never been so thrilled to be surrounded by freaks. There was the occasional backslide, usually when the beast didn’t get its treat, but after a year and a half, Jacob was confident in his abilities, the beast was largely tamed–though Mark was sure it would always be a bit headstrong–and Mark cleared him for outpatient release. He would still have to check in regularly at the hospital, attend therapy sessions–both solo and group–but finally, he would be able to start putting a life back together outside the nearly three year long nightmare this had become. He wouldn’t be able to register as a vigilante again until he could show better control over his developed powers, but that was, honestly, the furthest thing from Jacob’s mind. He was free. They were free. Mark helped him find a small studio apartment to rent nearby until he could get a job and be back on his feet, though the restitution from his time under Baccanal’s control was nearly enough for him to live on, if he kept life meager.

Mark encouraged him to find some work, however–it would help him adjust back to normal life, if he had something to occupy his time. Before all of this had happened, he had worked in kitchens, mostly, and he found a job as a line cook at a little restaurant not far from his studio. It wasn’t much of a life, he supposed, but it was better than being stuck in the hospital, never getting a taste of fresh air. Life settled into a new, better routine. Group therapy one day a week, therapy with Mark twice a week, and as long as he checked in with the hospital, he was free to just…live, at last.

“Six, a bit over halfway down the stairs now. You know where you’re going, and there is no fear–only trust. Just my voice, guiding you down into the darkness below, that comforting, gentle dark of deep sleep.”

The induction was easy now–Mark knew that he had Jacob’s full trust, as misplaced as that trust was. As long as he’d been in the hospital, Mark had had to be careful–a suggestion here, a nudge there, a test or two on occasion to see how pliable he and his beast were, but never anything too unseemly. It wouldn’t do to get himself tossed out of his favorite hunting ground, after all.

“Seven….getting deeper now. You feel yourself sliding down the steps, floating down them, every inch taking you deeper and deeper towards a restful, peaceful, dreamless sleep.”

They met at Mark’s home now for their therapy sessions–it was more convenient than going to the hospital for Jacob, and they both felt more comfortable here. That, and the only cameras in the corners here were controlled by Mark. He controlled everything, and everyone here–just like he would control Jacob, and his beast, before too much longer.

“Eight, you feel very heavy, so heavy, and the dark is pulling you into it, embracing you, enveloping you in a calm nothingness.”

Mark wasn’t a Super–he couldn’t literally control people. Not like his patients had been controlled–not like how he, himself had been controlled, all those years ago, while he was just a student at college. He had been…close to a young man as an undergraduate, though rather clueless. The young man had thought there was something brewing between them, but Mark put that notion to bed quickly–he wasn’t gay, and also wasn’t interested in a relationship with anyone, really. That hadn’t been what his friend had wanted to hear, and unknown to Mark, his friend was an unregistered Super–and one with the ability to…warp personalities. Mark found himself falling head over heels for him in less than a week, desperate to be with him…but the power had been so raw. He’d wanted to be with any man–every man, and his friend enjoyed making him humiliate himself, whoring him out to men all over campus, and Mark refused to report it, out of love. Thankfully, it was found out after a couple of weeks before too much damage had been done to him, but he’d never been the same person since–how could he be?

“Nine. The light seems so far away now, and the darkness is so close. You long for it. You feel so content down here, in the dark, that you will happily stay down here for as long as you can. You feel safe here, safe where no one can harm you, listening to only my voice.”

He never could find women attractive after that, for one thing. But his personality soured, warped, and settled in other ways too. He still craved sex, but also control. He became domineering with his partners, and rarely did a guy return for seconds–not that Mark was interested in having any one normal man more than once or twice. The only person he wanted was his friend–a love he’d never been able to quiet, but it had mutated, and Mark found himself becoming fascinated with other Supers like him. In time, even the love faded, but a furious spite filled its place instead. When he met another Super in graduate school, years later at that point, he decided that was close enough, manipulated him into bed, and then threatened to tell everyone on campus he’d raped Mark, if he didn’t do everything he demanded. The rush of power was unlike anything else, and he had him under his thumb for a month, before the Super ran off–and Mark as furious at having lost him. He wanted more–more Supers, more sex…but he would be more careful, and make sure they would never be able to abandon him. So far, he hadn’t lost a single one yet.

Ten. The floor melts away beneath you, and you are floating, in a deep, peaceful sleep. The only thing besides the darkness is my voice, which you must listen to. My voice is the most important thing to you, here in the darkness. You must obey it, right Jacob?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good, Jacob. Now, in the darkness, you are going to prepare yourself to dream of the beast–but you will not begin dreaming until we have discussed what this dream will be like, understand?”

Mark had, thus far, been unable to deduce how, exactly, Jacob’s dreams were related to the beast, but he had found that guiding his dreams could determine what sort of form the beast took when the dream began. In fact, the beast seemed rather mutable, never emerging in the same form twice, as far as Mark had seen, though his control over both of them was still very loose. In fact, this was the most dangerous moment of the entire venture, he supposed. If the beast rejected his offer, or simply attacked him–no, that wouldn’t happen. He knew what the beast desired, and he could provide it. Stick to the plan, and everything would go perfectly.

Now, you are going to dream something different, this time. Something you haven’t dreamt about in a very long time. You are going to dream of your time with Baccanal. However, this dream will not scare you, and when you wake, you will not remember any details, only that it was very pleasant. You will dream that you are a glutton. That you eat and drink anything given to you, like a pig. You will dream that you are lecherous and horny, lazy and heavy, satisfied with earthly delights like sex, food and wine. You are going to dream that you are a pig–do you understand?”

Jacob nodded, and Mark had him repeat the details of the dream back to him. Then he told Jacob that the darkness was beginning to clarify, that he was slowly entering the dream, and Mark heard the couch Jacob was sitting on creak slightly. There was always a change in mass before any change actually appeared–almost like both Jacob and the beast were inhabiting the same space at the same time, one taking the place of the other, Jacob let out a snort, and a bit of drool ran down his chin–likely imagining the food and wine from the dream, and his mouth and nose began to grow out into a short snout.

The rest of his was growing as well. Jacob was not a particularly large man–five foot five and a slightly chubby 200 pounds–he’d largely lost the gut he’d had when he first entered the hospital years prior. He could certainly hit hard for his size, though, as his power had manifested, but Mark had come to believe that Jacob, before being controlled by Baccanal, had only been using a small fragment of his potential power. Likely, it would have remained completely dormant, if the beast hadn’t been freed. Baccanal deserved some sort of reward or recognition, surely, but his life sentence would be difficult to work around, sadly. Now, Jacob was close to six feet tall, and still growing (the beast rarely manifested as a creature below seven feet tall or so, and had, on occasion, outgrown the eight foot ceilings at the hospital) his leaner physique lost now under a rapidly expanding belly, his arms packing on some muscle, but really, he seemed…flabby and rotund, just as Mark had hoped. The beast was a singular mind, with a memory separate from Jacob’s, but it’s manner and behavior differed widely depending on its form when it manifested. If Jacob dreamed of a frightening monster, it would be vicious–if he dreamed of something gentler or peaceful, the beast would be…more amenable to something resembling conversation. It had never spoken a word, or at least not to Mark, but it understood everything he said, as far as he could tell.

Jacob had been naked–one of the earliest hypnotic work the doctor had done was get Jacob used to being naked in his presence. He doubted Jacob even noticed that he stripped automatically when he stepped in the door every time now. Mark found himself focused on the beast’s growing cock–this time, it was becoming more porcine, engorging and spiraling from a slimy sheath, with two massive balls hanging below, against the cushion of the couch. The hair came next–less than usual, mostly a thick coating of boar bristle all over his back and across his chest, arms and legs. Then the eyes flicked open, no longer Jacob’s human blue, but a bestial black. The beast was awake, Jacob was lost in the dream, and would be until Mark woke him from it.

Taming the Beast (Part 3)

What Jacob had hoped would be a short stay, was rapidly becoming something much, much worse than he’d imagined it might be. He’d thought he was fine. Perhaps it was easier, because he didn’t remember much of his time away, and because he hadn’t really had much of a life to return to, once he was free. It was easier to compartmentalize everything he’d done, everything that had been done to him, as a dream. Something he could just put behind him, and forget. But this–this was just as bad, as before He was still in a cage, still treated like an animal in a cage, too. But this time, it was for his own good–and for the alleged safety of the staff and the other patients. It had been better before, at least that had been a kind of freedom. Baccanal had, of course, held the lead…but beyond that, the beast had been free to enjoy itself. It…wanted to…enjoy itself.

While he still detested group sessions, they were rapidly becoming the only place where he had any socialization, beyond nervous staff members clutching tranquilizers, and Mark, who seemed as unfazed by everything as always, though Jacob could…sense a shift in him, somehow, though he couldn’t explain how he knew that. This was becoming a common occurrence, and it took Jacob some time to realize that the voices and ideas in his head, that he’d always experienced as some odd conscience, were in fact the words and thoughts of the beast inside him. It all seemed so obvious now, but he’d been so clueless this whole time. Now, however, all he really wanted was for it to stop. He’d give up…everything, if the beast would just go away for good. He vented in group about that, about how he felt like he’d lost every remnant of control here, how he’d been freed from one enslavement, and was now stuck in another. The other inmates would commiserate, but none of them could really understand, he didn’t think. He knew he was dangerous, and yet…and yet the beast was assuring him that as long as they got out, it would calm down. It just…didn’t want to be caged anymore. It wanted to enjoy life, it wanted pleasure, and sex, and food and wine, all the delights it had become accustomed to, with Baccanal. Jacob found himself wanting them too, just so the beast would finally quiet down.

He shared all of this with Mark, in their sessions together. Mark seemed less interested in what had occurred with Baccanal, however, and wanted to know more about how Jacob’s powers had developed. He was especially fascinated when the dreams began again, though they were…different, this time. He still felt pursued, and attacked, but Jacob found himself witnessing it as both predator and prey. When he awoke, afterwards, he also wouldn’t be caught in the midst of a slippage–he might see just the last bit of nail or fur disappearing in the dark, unsure if he’d seen anything at all.

“I believe, Jacob, that this beast, as we call him, is in fact a separate entity inside both your body and your mind–but when you were both growing up, neither of you understood yourself as separate entities. You were, in fact, much closer in identity than you have become. The events you suffered…created a break in your unity, likely because the substances Baccanal made you consume affected each of you differently. You, Jacob, they put to sleep, but the beast was invigorated by them. I don’t know if it is possible for the two of you to find the same sort of synchronicity you once established so naturally, but I think things are only going to improve after we find a way to communicate with the beast, and after we understand how it uses these dreams to manifest itself, because they are…clearly connected, somehow.” Mark looked up from his notes. “I would like to try a few sessions of hypnosis with you, focusing on dream control, and see if we can better understand the link between the two of you. If we can help you exert a bit more control over the form the beast takes, then you may be able to establish a healthier relationship with your own power, in time.”

At this point, Jacob was willing to try anything, if it might mean getting away from here, though he could feel the beast was anxious about it. It didn’t want Jacob to be in control–all it wanted, was to be free. He told this to Mark, that he wasn’t sure the beast would be very cooperative, and Mark had a simple answer.

“I think the beast is smart enough to understand that, until we find a way to train it and control it, there is no way it can be allowed outside of these walls. I want to help both of you–but if either of you puts up any resistance, then you will both be stuck here for the foreseeable future. Progress is entirely in your hands–both of your hands–and I trust you will both cooperate to the best of your abilities.”

They could both see the truth in that–though when they arrived for the first session, and saw the bed and the straps and the guards looking on nervously, neither of them were feeling very trusting of the doctor. It had to be done, Mark insisted. After all, it had been shown that they both could react very differently to the same stimuli–and it was likely that by putting Jacob into a hypnotic sleep, the beast could very possibly manifest itself while Jacob was in a suggestable state. A few minutes later, Jacob was lying on the bed, watching the flashing screen in front of him while Mark whispered softly in his ear–and then he remembered…little else. He dreamed, he knew that, but what dream it was, was something he couldn’t recall beyond a general sensation of…peace and relaxation. When he was next woken, everyone in the room appeared to be at ease as well, though Jacob didn’t really understand why–it wasn’t until Mark showed him the footage from the session the next day, that he understood.

Taming the Beast (Part 2)

Mark stared at him over the edge of the tablet for a moment, made a note, and then moved onto someone else, with some other unique trauma that Jacob couldn’t care less about. He was hungry, and group therapy was always right before dinner. He had such an appetite now–Baccanal had fed him well, and the extra fifty pounds on his frame showed. He wanted to lose it…but the hunger was worse now. Better than it had been, those first days, but would he ever feel normal again? He hoped so–or maybe he just couldn’t really remember what normal felt like anymore.

“So no more dreams?” Mark asked. He and Jacob were alone in his office, for some one-on-one therapy. The tone of his voice was neutral, but it was clear that he was skeptical.

“I wasn’t lying at group yesterday, no.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Good. I mean, shouldn’t I feel good? Those dreams…they were disturbing. I’m glad I’m not having them, at least. I feel like I’m getting better.”

The dreams Jacob had been having, ever since he’d regained control over the beast, usually precipitated one of his…slippages. He would wake up, howling and barking, nails like claws, fur all over his body, two minds panicking at the same time, and he would have to fight to put the beast back where it belonged, deep in his mind, where it was supposed to be–where it had always been, at least. But he hadn’t been dreaming, and he hadn’t had a single slip in a week. How could that not be good?

Still, it was clear from the look on his therapist’s face that he was missing something. It made him feel…crazy, when he did that, keeping cards close to his chest. He could handle the truth–he didn’t need to be coddled like some drooling, drugged out problem. Like the rest of them.

“You don’t seem…convinced.”

“I honestly hope you’re lying to me Jacob, because if you aren’t, I’m afraid things are getting worse.” Mark said, and set down the tablet. “You have to be honest in these sessions. I can’t help you regain control of your powers if you don’t trust me.”

“I…I am in control of my powers.”

Mark sat back, said nothing, but the stony look didn’t change on his face.

“Is…there’s something you’re not telling me? What am I missing?”

Mark sighed, toyed with his tablet a moment, and then the screen on the wall lit up, showing a video feed from surveillance footage–footage of Jacob’s room.

“You…you were recording me?”

“We record everyone. It’s for your own safety, and all the files are encrypted and destroyed after your discharge. It’s all in the privacy policy included in your admission packet.”

The admission packet was an entire three inch binder, and Jacob hadn’t exactly been given time to pour over it, before being committed to the center. Mark ran the tape forward a bit, and Jacob watched himself get ready for bed, and then climb in. Nothing happened for a moment, as two hours slipped by. “Was this…when was this?”

“Three nights ago, though there were similar…events during the night’s since, as well.”

“Events?”

“You’ll see.”

It was shortly after one in the morning that it started. In the video, Jacob say himself begin to turn, and then thrash. He was breathing heavily, then panting, then growling, from the look of his mouth, though the video was silent. He started to change, then–fur growing in all over his body, a short snout pushing out his mouth and nose…then his eyes opened, he sniffed the air, and looked around. The beast paced the room for close to half an hour, watching out the window for guards, testing the window and the grates…obviously planning on some sort of escape plan…and Jacob had absolutely no memory of this ever happening. But he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t tell the doctor that.

“I…I was lying before. I did…I did have, some dreams, I…” Jacob didn’t know why he was so terrified. He felt like he’d been…caught, but he hadn’t done anything. It wasn’t his fault.

“Actually, Jacob, I believed you the first time,” Mark said. “I don’t think you had any dreams. I think the beast persona inside of you has been testing ways of gaining control over you, and it has…succeeded, for moments, while you sleep. It doesn’t seem to last too long, no more than a half an hour or so at a time…but my worry is that it will get better, and it will seriously injure someone, trying to escape. I’m afraid that, for the time being, we are going to have to move you to a secure cell, until we get a better understanding of what, exactly, is happening with your power.”

Jacob was still watching the screen, unable to believe he was looking at himself–at something…using his body like that. He started to shake. It was a…thing that kept happening, ever since he’d gotten free, this anxiety. He’d lost a year of his life, a whole year to that fucker and the animal inside of him, and now he was going to lose, what, years to this place? Was he going to be like Richie, still here in five years, just an animal locked in a cell? He didn’t remember starting to scream, just when the guards came in, tranquilized him, and dragged him out of the office, to his new cell. Mark just sat behind the desk, watching, trying not to give away the sizable erection the entire scene had given him, and he played back the video feed, pulling his cock free, and stroking it slowly, watching that beast pace back and forth, looking for a way out of this cage.

Well Mark had broken bigger monsters than this in his tenure here. He’d break this one too–and he already had a thought of how he was going to do it. He’d give Jacob some time to adjust to this new revelation, settle on a new drug cocktail, and then the real tests would begin.

Taming the Beast (Part 1)

“I feel…a little better today, I guess. The…the compulsions are still there, but I know they’re compulsions, even if I can’t…always stop myself. It’s like my head is stuck on a track, and there’s…there’s no way off the track. I keep looking for a switch, someway to move past it, past what he told me to do that night…what I couldn’t do that night. I know that if I just…did it, I’d be free–”

“Richie, you know you shouldn’t think that.”

“I know, I know. I…I don’t…I don’t need more drugs, or a higher dosage! I…I won’t. It was just an admission of fact right? If I killed him. If I found him, and like…strangled him, or shot him, or ran him over with a car. If I just…thought he was dead. Maybe if someone told me he was, and really…really convinced me. Like showed me a finger! I could fingerprint it, and–”

“Richie, I think that’s plenty of sharing for this session. Why don’t you go to the nurse’s station,” the therapist said, tapping on the tablet beside him, while Richie stood up, wringing his hands, and went down the hall to take more pills.

Group. Jacob hated group–it was the worst part of the week, always. Still, Mark, his therapist, insisted on it. It helped, he said, to share your experiences with others. It helped you feel less alone, but Jacob always felt…alone here. He wasn’t like the other people here, in the circle–well, he was, in one very important way. But in every other important respect? He was very, very different.

How were they all the same? All of them had been, at one point or another, mentally manipulated or physically controlled by a Super, by a person with extraordinary powers. Well, more than that. The control had been so extensive, or so damaging, that they were all considered a potential danger to society at large. And so, until they were better, or fixed, they were locked up here. Richie there had been a cop. He’d had a run in with a Super connected to the mob, who had “convinced” him that he had to murder an important witness to a crime. He’d failed–and that had been five years ago. He couldn’t drop it. If he was out on the street today, he’d hunt them down just like before. None of them were responsible for these things of course–Mark always told Jacob that–but it was hard to believe you weren’t culpable in the failure of your own mind, especially when no one was about to let him leave any time soon.

“How about you, Jacob?” Mark asked, looking at him over the tablet, “We had an interesting conversation about your dreams in our last session, perhaps someone else is experiencing something similar.”

“I…I haven’t had any I’ve remembered lately,” Jacob said, trying not to show the frustration with being singled out to perform healing for people he couldn’t care less about. He didn’t see the point. Nothing he said was going to help these people–and nothing going on in their addled minds was going to help him either? Why pretend? And so, he refused–it was the one bit of control he still had. To just disengage. Jacob had only been here for a couple of weeks–this was only his fourth group session, but he refused to share anything. He wasn’t like the rest of them. How could they understand what he’d been through? Besides, he was in control, wasn’t he? The beast hadn’t broken out in days. He felt sane, though he wouldn’t for long, listening to any more of this.

Jacob, you see, wasn’t like the others in one very important respect–he was, himself, a Super. A Super who had, in turn, been controlled by another Super, and made to…well, lose control of something Jacob had never actually known that he possessed. Jacob had always known he was different. Faster, stronger, fiercer than other kids his age, bigger too, and always a certain hunger he could never really explain. He supposed, had things gone differently for him, he could have easily become a villain, of a sort. A bully, more likely. But that hunger had manifested as a desire to correct injustice, and so he’d registered and taken to patrolling the streets…but he hadn’t been at it for a few months before he wandered into a place he should have been more careful around–a bar run by another Super named Baccanal, an enchanter, of sorts.

One sip of his wine, and Jacob had been willing to do anything for the owner of the bar–and the more he drank, the more dedicated to him he became…but also, the more control he found himself losing. Control over something he’d never even known was inside him–a beast. Claws, teeth, fur–he didn’t recognize himself, soon enough, and Baccanal was thrilled at his newest acquisition, particularly when he discovered that the beast inside Jacob could morph into whatever animalistic form its new Master desired to see.

Jacob…didn’t recall much from the next year or so, of being pressed into Baccanal’s service. What he did remember…made him shiver with rage and humiliation. Becoming a satyr, waiting on tables in the bar, telling jokes and humiliating himself, usually. When Baccanal had a few special patrons come through, he would take on other forms, and service them as whatever mythical stud they desired–a minotaur, a centaur, more freakish forms he was glad the couldn’t fully recall. At long last, Baccanal had slipped up and gotten caught. Free of his enchanted wine, Jacob had managed to take control again…mostly. Due to the occasional slippage he’d experienced, and the fact that all Supers who were controlled had to undergo mandatory treatment, he’d ended up here, with these freaks, just waiting until he got the green light, and was released again. He hated being caged more than anything–and the beast in him was none to happy about the situation either.

“So, Superboy, what do you think of your new look? Our focus groups have told us that this will definitely make you very popular with the 21-45 age bracket.”

“Fuck…I feel like I god hit by a god damn steamroller…Is my head shaved? What the fuck did you do–why am I cussing?”

“Just some marketing adjustments Superboy. Corporate doesn’t think your image is edgy enough.”

“Corporate…what are you taking about?”

“Why, LEXCORP, of course–your employer. Now, we have a few details to sort out postprogramming. I’m supposed to brief you on missions, payments for your heroic services, and certain corporate functions we’ll need you to make appearances at, but that can come later–I want to talk to you about your public image…See, our focus groups feel that Lana Lang is just not the kind of person you should be pursuing at the moment.”

“What?”

“See, with your new submissive status in our corporation, we feel you need a new persona. The focus groups also tend to like you more if you belong to a minority group. Since white and male are pretty difficult to change, we’ve made alterations to your sexual orientation–”

“No, this can’t be…this is all so wrong, I have to get out of here–what have you done to me?”

“Sit, Superboy. Good, that’s a very good Superboy. Now listen. You’re our bitch now–there’s nothing you can do about it. LEXCORP’s interests are your interests, and from now on, if someone wants to be rescued by you, they’re going to have to pay for it. Not that you’re going to be doing much of that–the US government is far more interested in your capacity as a weapon, but we’ll have plenty of time to discuss this later. Lex said that after all my hard work re-engineering that little brain of yours, that I could be the first one to test your ass.”

“I’m not…I’m not going to do that, I won’t. You can’t make me.”

“Now don’t try to cover it up, I can see that hard on in your new shiny suit. It’s turning you on, thinking about serving me? Pleasing me? You’re just a lacky now, Superboy, you’re our lackey, and pleasing us makes you feel very, very good–trust me. Now get over here and suck my cock. Get it good and hard so I can pop that Kryptonian cherry of yours…Yeah, that’s right. See? You already know how to serve us well…Alright, now bend over the couch and pull down your pants. I want to see if this krypton lube is strong enough to pierce that hole of yours without making you sick. I doubt I got the balance right–so I have a feeling we’re going to be doing a lot of testing in the future.

Source: vincentlycra