(Flash Commission) Monster Cock

Jeff saw the package sitting on the porch when he got home, got out of his car, hurried up, got it, and took it inside. He’d been waiting weeks for it to arrive, and finally, it was here. He put it on his table, opened it up, and hauled it out, turning it over in his hands, already wondering if his eyes had been bigger than his stomach, or his ass, rather. It was a custom dildo from a fellow who called his creations “monster cocks”–each one was one of a kind, and while he didn’t charge for them, getting your hands on one of them was hard as hell. The creator took applications for his work, but who received them always seemed a bit random. He said that his toys chose who they wanted to own them, but after trying for most of a year, Jeff had finally been chosen, and now, it was in his hands.

It was in his hands, and the thing was massive. Far larger than anything he’d ever taken before in his life. He had a modest collection of dildos for when he didn’t have anyone around to fuck him, and he’d always enjoyed it. Some guys he knew had suggested he start training to take a fist, and he was close to that at this point. This dildo though was thicker than most guys fists, and easily a foot long. The dildo’s skin was a dark brown mottled with tan up the shaft to the head, which had a sheath, or a foreskin, bunched up around the glans of the cock. He toyed with it, and saw that it was actually rather elastic, and could stretch over the head, even, giving it more of a sheathed look. The base of the dildo included a set of substantial balls, the sack the size of a small melon. The sack and the bottom third of the cock was actually covered with hair–running his hand over it, he couldn’t quite tell if it was real or not. It had to be synthetic, but it felt a bit like soft boar bristle–he wondered what it would feel like on the inside of his hole–if he could get it that far in, even.

Jeff tried at least. Got himself cleaned out and lubed up, warmed up with the largest dildo he had, and then gave it a go. He was just too tight–he couldn’t even get the thing in past the head. He felt demoralized, got cleaned up and onto his computer, where he saw a chat message from the dildo maker.

“I saw that the package got delivered, just wanted to make sure everything got there alright.”

“It did,” Jeff replied, “It’s bigger than I thought it would be. Don’t know when I’ll be able to take it.”

“Don’t worry too much about that. It’ll get in you faster than you think, just keep trying. I know this is the right one for you, it won’t be too long at all.”

Jeff wasn’t sure of what to make of that, but he poked around online, looking for a dildo to train with larger than the ones he had, but smaller than the monster cock, but all he could think about was the beast waiting for him upstairs, and how much he wanted it inside him. It was getting late, and he had work in the morning, so he went to bed. His dreams that night were intense, and when he woke up he couldn’t recall much of them at all, aside from a strange sensation of being stalked. That, and he woke up with the monstrous dildo in his arms, when he was certain he’d left it in the drawer with the rest of them before bed. Confused and a bit bewildered, he went to work, but found it more and more difficult to focus. At first, it was just because he was tired after his restless night, but as the day progressed, he found himself thinking more and more about the dildo waiting for him at home, and he rushed home so he could be near it again, feel it again, lube it up, and once again try and fit it inside him.

That day, after an hour, he finally managed to get the head inside his hole, and that alone was a revelation. It was a sign of progress, and Jeff kept working at it, sweating and grunting, until he was too starving and shaking to continue. He went downstairs, found a couple of steaks he’d been saving in the freezer, and cooked them both, not caring they were rarer than usual, he was just starved. He considered a shower, but felt too tired to bother, and simply went upstairs to bed, curling up around the dildo without even thinking about it. The dreams that night were no clearer, but he woke with a groan, rutting his own cock against the dildo, the sheets under him soaked with sweat and cum from what must have been a very active night. He pulled himself together as quickly as he could, not even bothering to shower, but when he headed for the door, he struggled. He couldn’t…leave it here. He bundled the dildo up and took it with him not quite sure what he was doing, but it felt instinctual. He managed to leave it in the car for most of the day, but found himself terrified someone might see it, or worse, steal it. On his lunch break, he went down, retrieved it, and struggled to resist the urge to take it out and start riding it right there in the office. He settled for taking it into the bathroom with him, licking and sucking on the head while he jacked off, horrified by his loss of control, but still unable to stop.

It was when he got home, that he noticed something was off. He hadn’t really bothered looking at himself in the mirror that morning, but in the bathroom, ready to clean himself out and try again, he saw his reflection, and just stared. He hadn’t been that hairy before, or that muscular. It wasn’t…much, really, but it was there. His clothes didn’t quite fit right, which explained some of his discomfort the day before. His beard was thicker, and when he lifted an arm up in the shower, he caught a whiff of his musk, and that was more pungent too. He didn’t have time to shower though–he hosed out his hole, skipped the soap, and was back in his bedroom, riding the dildo again, working it deeper, inch by inch, now sliding halfway down the shelf. 

He could almost feel it…throbbing inside him, trying to wriggle deeper. He couldn’t tell if it was real, or if he was just imagining it. The idea of it was so hot, though, that he kept shooting load after load of cum all over his bed and his sheets until he collapsed again, too exhausted to move. It was nearly midnight, he’d been at it for hours. He had to piss, but was too weak to get up from the bed. He released it onto the bed under him, horrified at first, but the scent of it satisfied some deep, primal need inside him, and sleep took him soon after.

The next day, he got up from the bed, sniffed his hairy pit, and before he even really realized it, he was pissing all over the carpet and the wall next to the bed. Part of him was concerned, but it was much quieter than it might have been usually. Instead, he hauled out his cock and jacked off as well–it was the only thing on his body that wasn’t larger, all of a sudden. He squeezed his way into some office attire as best he could, no longer certain why he was wearing this, why he was bothering with it. He had more important things to concern himself with, after all, but some part of him clung to that normalcy, tried to deny the drives and desires that were well on their way to overwhelming him.

He didn’t last long at the office that day. He kept sneaking away to the bathroom to masturbate, to worship the dildo, his cock, his monster cock, as he kept thinking about it. Each load that he shot did nothing to calm him down, it only seemed to drive him to more intense heights of desire. When he stepped out of the stall shortly after lunch, and saw the one of his burlier coworkers at the urinal pissing, maybe it was the smell, maybe it was the sight of his ass filling out the back of his slacks, but he went over, shoved the man up against the urinal, and rutted against his ass, grunting and snorting like some animal. The man managed to get away, and before security could get a hold of him, Jeff fled the office with the dildo, abandoning everything else, and sped home.

He wouldn’t go back there. It wasn’t safe. He was safe in his home, in his den. He had to finish, he had to fuck himself with his cock, with his monster cock. He threw himself into the task, he was so close. The dildo was warm now, he could feel blood pulsing through it, the hair no longer synthetic, but so close to the hair that beginning to sprout all up and down his own body. He only had a couple more inches to go, and He worked at it, pushing everything else out. Every time he shot a load of cum, he realized, the dildo would slide in a little deeper. His body was getting larger, yes, but he noticed at last that his balls were shrivelling, his cock dwindling. At long last he took the dildo to the hilt with a roar, and felt the monstrosity come alive, the entire thing digging deeper, screwing into his guts, his wrecked hole closing up behind him.

He felt it push out, forcing its way from his body, his human cock stretching and ripping apart as his new, monstrous cock erupted from his crotch, his massive balls coming through last and dropping, slapping against his hairy thighs. He could feel it, his new cock pumping…something through him, changing him. His teeth, already sharper than they had been, grew longer, into proper fangs, is mouth and nose distending into a furry muzzle. The hair that had been growing thicker on his body became a thick pelt of black fur, hands becoming paws with thick claws on the end, his whole body filling out with layers of muscle and fat, until he was nearly eight feet tall and close to seven hundred pounds of pure mass. He looked at his monstrous bear body in the mirror, cock throbbing and leaking, and that was the last thing he recalled clearly, as he wrapped his paws around his cock and kept stroking, kept pleasing his cock, a slave to his new sexual desires, no longer interested in anything else.

When he awoke, his body had reverted–somewhat. His room was wrecked, as were several of his doorways, but he hadn’t managed to make it outside at least. That didn’t matter now. All that mattered was what his new cock desired–and it wanted a hole to fuck. There was a knock on his front door, and much to his surprise, there on the doorstep was his old coworker from the bathroom, the one he’d rutted up against. He was shaking and sweating, muttered some excuse about needing to see him again, but Jeff knew what the man needed. He grabbed him by the collar with his clawed hand and dragged him inside, shoved him down to his knees, and pissed all over him, marking the man as his new property, or rather, the property of his cock. It would take a while to open this one up and fuck him properly, but he had no doubt that in time, he would be a perfect slave–and when he took him to the hilt, and filled him with a load of his corruptive cum, he too, would turn. He shook off the last bit of piss from his cock, and dragged the addled and horny man into the bedroom now reeking of his scent, threw him on the bed, and went to work.

Sketch: Greg Meets The Orc

It had shown up on Greg’s doorstep one day. A package, no shipping label or address, with just his name written on it. Wondering if it was from one of his neighbors in the apartment building or something, he took it inside his place, opened it up, and just stared at the thing in the box, trying to figure out what, exactly, it was. It was big, for one thing. Big, and…green, mottled, or almost looking a bit like a camo pattern. He picked it up–it was made of rubber, or maybe silicone…and it felt…good in his hands, somehow. Almost warm, if that made sense, or like there was a little whisper of delight, the feeling after a parent pats you on the head and tells you that you did a great job. Then he realized what, exactly, he was holding, and he dropped it with a shudder.

It was a cock. Not a real cock, of course. It was a dildo, a freakishly large dildo, slightly larger than a beer can at its thickest point. Easily a foot long, the shaft almost bulbous, the head thick and flared, with PA in the head, two balls below it–all of it in the same dingy green pattern. All he could think to do was go wash his hands, but it didn’t do anything to get rid of that…sensation, from when he’d touched it. Greg was straight after all. He’d had girlfriends with toys, though nothing like this, and he’d never touched them. This…wasn’t for women anyway. Somehow, he knew this was for…men. For gay men. It was also meant for him, but that couldn’t be right. He would never touch something like this again–in fact, he was going to throw it out, and forget this ever happened.

Except he couldn’t quite bring himself to throw it away. He looked on the internet, saw how pricey these sorts of things were, and thought he might as well resell it…but he found it hard to do even that, for some reason. It just sat in the box on his side table. He would look at it before and after work, and all he could think about was that it seemed…lonely. It was a thing–things didn’t feel loneliness, but he…maybe if he touched it more, it wouldn’t…feel that way.

It was irrational. He felt like he was going a bit insane, but he was certain. The toy was lonely. It wanted his company. It wanted him to…to touch it. Not even put it inside him (not that he would ever do that) just…for him to hold it. One day after work, when he couldn’t stand it anymore, he plucked it out of the box, took it with him to the couch, and sat with it touching him while he watched TV–and he was sure now. The toy…was happy, and he…he was happy too, wasn’t he? It felt good to touch it, good to spend time with it, made him feel horny, being with it…

Greg didn’t know how the idea came to him. It felt like his own, but he wasn’t sure. He went to his computer, sat down, toy between his legs, his own cock pressing against it, and he started watching porn. But the dildo didn’t want his straight porn–no, that was disgusting. It wanted…leather. Big, muscular leather men, tall muscular brutes dominating other men, sweaty smelly alpha men…Greg was lost in the videos, grinding his cock against the dildo between his legs, humping it until he came in a massive climax more powerful than anything he’d ever felt before. He took the dildo with him to bed, no longer feeling the least bit weird about this, licking and sucking at the head, and the dreams…he had such strange dreams.

It got harder and harder to be away from the toy. Or from the Orc, as he’d started calling it, or maybe that was just its actual name. Why wouldn’t it have a name? It had feelings. Desires. Thoughts. He could almost hear it now–its voice. Rough and deep and guttural. But The Orc didn’t need to speak for Greg to know what it wanted…even if what it wanted seemed…extreme.

It wanted Greg to quit his job. Wanted Greg to spend all of his time with him. Wanted him to focus on working out, wanted him to wear leather, wanted him to jack off all over himself all day long. Wanted him to stop showering and stop shaving. He resisted for a while, but more and more, his time away from The Orc was…painful. It was hard to focus at work. He was short tempered and angry. Finally–he’d had enough. He quit without notice, planning on living off his savings, and spending time with what really mattered–with the Orc.

That was a couple of years ago now. Greg hardly ever leaves his apartment for anything anymore–after all, he has everything he needs right here. He wakes up, cradling The Orc close to him, and spends an hour worshipping it, cleaning it with his tongue, before beginning his routine for the day. First, breakfast–high protein–then his workout. He sets The Orc on its seat, flexes for it, showing off his body for The Orc’s pleasure, and then works out–after two years, Greg hardly looks like the slender, lean fellow from before. He’s massive–nearly 280 pounds of almost pure muscle from head to toe. He works out naked usually, or if The Orc prefers, in one of his leather harnesses, all of then custom made for his size. After a workout, if The Orc is pleased, he gets to cum–grinding his cock against The Orc until he cums all over the dildo and licks it clean again, before lunch–and then he usually spends the rest of the day doing whatever the toy wants. Sometimes they watch porn and jack off. Sometimes he puts on leather and toys with himself for the dildo’s pleasure. Sometimes, there are special days too–days like today.

Today, someone is coming over, and that means…The Orc needs to be inside him. It took a lot of training to get to this point, and Greg is proud of how well he did, training his hole up, so he would be worthy of holding The Orc inside of him. He spends a moment lubing up the massive toy, and then squats over it–it takes close to half an hour before his ass closes around the base, feeling The Orc’s balls against his own…and then it happens–Greg opens up his mind just as wide as his ass, and he feels the dildo slide deeper inside him–and then, he isn’t Greg anymore.

Now, he is The Orc. He grunts, and strokes his cock for a moment, happy to have a body for a while, though he knows that it can’t last forever. There’s a knock at the door, and The Orc answers it–it’s a young man, quivering a bit in the doorway–and The Orc leers at him, grabs him by the collar, and drags him inside. Greg watches from inside his body, as The Orc ravages the boy, feeling his own cock sliding in and out of the young, tight hole, but feeling more pleasure at the pleasure of his Master. In the end, it turns out that he is little more than a vessel for The Orc’s desires. It…terrifies him, sometimes. The Orc…wants his body for real, but isn’t sure how to make it happen, but there are…stories. In any case, it doesn’t matter what Greg wants, does it? The Orc cums, filling the boy up with his seed, and holds him for a while, letting the boy worship his musky, stinking, muscular body, and then sends him on his way–the boy leaving a few thousand dollars on the nightstand. After that, The Orc leaves him again, sliding back out of his hole, and Greg is back. He cleans The Orc dutifully, and then it is time for dinner, and time for bed. Tomorrow is a new day, after all, and a vessel’s work is never done.

Pigtown Daddies (Part 1)

What choice did he have, really? He had to get this…thing out of him. Well, that wasn’t really the issue, Evan supposed, the issue was that he couldn’t get himself to leave it out of him. He’d been at the bar last night–the usual bar–but on the way home, he’d ended up…somewhere else. He didn’t remember much through the hangover and blackout, but he did remember the name–Pigtown. What had happened there…he only had a vague collection of memories, but what he did know was that when he’d woken up in his bed this morning, he’d had the thing in him.

The dildo.

The massive fucking dildo.

It had to be at least nine inches long, and thicker than a beer can–he’d felt the pressure in his ass when he’d woken up, along with the raging hard on, and when he’d tried to pull the thing out in disgust, he’d gotten it most of the way–but then his hand had plunged it back in, and he’d groaned, stroking himself off and fucking himself until he came in his bed. Horrified by what he’d done, he managed to get the dildo out long enough to take a shit, but after that, his hole had started to itch, and before he could even think too hard about it, he’d grabbed the dildo and slid it back inside him with a gasp–and that alone had started another round of fucking himself until he came.

The whole day had gone on like that–Evan trying to pull the dildo out, and when he rarely succeeded, trying to keep it out, and his hands working against him to get it back inside him and jack off almost constantly when it was. He didn’t understand it, but somehow he knew that Pigtown had been the start of it, and it might be where he can get the thing out.

The bar wasn’t particularly crowded, with plenty of seats, but Evan didn’t take one–he was afraid any pressure might get him started again, and looking around at the clientele, this…wasn’t the place a straight guy wanted to get caught with a dildo in his hole. Still, he didn’t recognize anyone, but he made his way to the bar to ask the hefty bartender if he knew anything. It turned out that he didn’t even have to ask, “Back so soon boy? You seemed pretty eager to get out of here last night. Ready to take Mick and Barrett up on the offer?”

“I–look, I don’t know who they are, but I…I have…did they do something to me? Last night?”

“Can’t get it out, eh?” the bartender said with a wink, and Evan flushed a deep red. “Don’t be embarrassed–the whole bar saw it.”

That didn’t help Evan feel much better.

“Look, you should go talk to them. If you ask real nice, they might help you out. They headed deeper not too long ago. You’ll find them, I’m sure.”

Deeper. He hadn’t noticed, but what he had assumed was the back wall of the bar wasn’t a wall at all–it was just dark. Walking stiff, he headed into the dark, feeling his way around a couple of bends, before emerging in a red-lighted chamber, where there were considerably more people, and considerably more sex going on that Evan was comfortable with. Mick and Barrett–who the fuck were they? He didn’t recognize anyone, even as his eyes adjusted to the light, but then came the whistle. He looked over, and two hulking muscle men, not too much older than him, were standing against the wall, waving him over. “Back so soon boy?” One of them called, “I thought you weren’t even gonna step foot in here again, from the tone ya had last night.”

The other one chuckled, “Nah, I told ya he was just bluffin’, Mick–he wanted it, he’s just playin’ hard tah get.”

Evan walked over, still a bit stiff, and the two men chuckled. “What the fuck did you do last night? Why the fuck can’t I get this…this thing out of my ass!”

“Easy boy,” Mick said, “We just gave you a choice is all–be our boy, or…well, you know what the other option is, don’t you?”

“Ya sure seemed tah like it last night, when we was poundin’ yer hole with it fer an hour, while everyone else was watchin’!”

“Well I don’t want to…to be your whatever, and I sure as hell don’t want this thing inside me, so let me fucking take it out already!”

“That ain’t the way the deal works, boy,” Mick said, and before Evan could do anything about it, one of his meaty hands slapped his ass, right on the butt of the dildo, forcing it in a bit further, and Evan moaned, his cock pulsing.

“But since ya came back,” Barrett said, “We gets tah make another deal with ya–how’s that sound? Two choices, either ya become our boy, or ya take yer punishment again, and like it, of course.”

“I’m not gonna be your fucking boy, you fucking creeps!” Evan said, “Now get this thing out of me, you fuckers, or I’ll make you fucking faggots take it out.”

“Ya hear that, Mick?”

“‘Sure do Barrett.”

“Boy still don’ wanna be our boy.”

“Guess that means he’s gonna have to take his punishment again–such a naughty boy.”

Asslickers Inc. (Part 1 & 2)

Missed my post yesterday, so here’s a double post to start the next story off! I’ve been giggling about this strange idea for a week now, so I hope you all enjoy it.


The two of them had been cruising each other for a few weeks at this point, ever since the cub had started showing up at the gym at the same time as Jules worked out after work. Jules was in his late forties, and while he wasn’t a muscle bear by any extent (though he did still harbour a desire to be one, maybe) he was in good, thick shape. No gut, but a solid belly, firm pecs, nice arms with a bit of tone–he liked to think he was a pretty sexy daddy, especially with his salt and pepper beard. Certainly the cub thought so–the younger guy had been staring Jules down ever since the first day he’d noticed him. At first, Jules had been rather embarrassed that someone was cruising him so blatantly, and the gym where they were was rather boutique–hardly the place where one would expect to hook up. The younger cub didn’t really seem like the usual client, but he afforded the pricy membership fee somehow, right? Maybe he had a trust fund, or he worked for one of the various tech startups booming at the moment. He looked more like the later–with his laid back attire, piercings and tattoos. Still, even though Jules was a straight laced professional by day…he’d always had a weakness for young rebels like that. So, after a few days of avoiding him, he–tentatively–began staring back. It was actually rather fun, and it was clear both of them were getting a bit turned on, even in the middle of the floor. Still, Jules was more of a looker and not a toucher, and the cub seemed to be too–so he was mildly surprised when the cub surprised him in the locker room, wearing nothing but his jockstrap.

Jules shook his hand, and realized a few seconds too late he’d been captivated by the ample bulge in the jock’s pouch. Whatever the guy was packing, it was massive–large enough for him to notice the odd bulge of a ring–likely a PA in the head. Kinky indeed. They chatted a bit, Jules got his name–Ari–the cub inching closer, both of them enjoying each other’s post-workout musk, but it wasn’t until a second meeting that Jules suggested they meet outside of the gym.

“Well, my schedule is pretty tight, with all of the product development I’m engaged in,” Ari said, obviously playing coy.

“Oh? What are you working on?”

“It’s a startup, but I don’t like talking about it in public–still rather under wraps. Still, I think you might find it interesting–maybe I’ll show you something if you come over to my place–how about tomorrow, after a workout?”

“I’m not a VC, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Oh no, if you were, I’d have to show up in a suit with my piercings out.”

After a chuckle, Jules agreed to the suggestion, and the next day, after their workouts, they walked the short distance to Ari’s apartment.

Or, what Jules had expected to be an apartment, probably with a roommate or two who’d have to listen to them fuck awkwardly. No, where Ari took him was a condo–a new condo, in one of the buildings that was actually out of Jules’ price range. “Must be rolling in some good seed money, if you’re getting put up here.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely got it’s benefits I’d say. Still, gotta keep chasing the money, you know? It’s amazing how fast you can burn through it when you get into a project.”

“I’m not sure how you start up guys do it–all that stress.”

“It’s not a big deal, as long as you know how to have fun on occasion,” Ari said, and gave Jule’s ass a slap. It surprised and unnerved him a bit, but hey, the cub knew what he wanted. Down a short hall, they entered Ari’s condo, and while it was minimally decorated and quite messy, the view of the city was wonderful. “Care for a drink?”

“Hmm? Oh, sure,” Jules said, and walked to the window, looking down at the people milling about, and towards the bay in the distance. “So, what exactly is your startup? You never did say.”

“Why don’t we hold off on that for now–let’s just say I like to mix my business with my pleasure. Now, why don’t you tell me about yourself? Where did you say you worked again?”

The two of them made idle chat on the couch for a few minutes, drinking their beers, hands idly exploring one another’s bodies, the conversation slowing as hands slipped down into pants, and they started making out instead. “Ready for that business and pleasure yet?” Jules asked.

“I think we can get started,” Ari replied, pulled Jules up, and led him down the hall and into a large spacious room, which made the older man’s jaw drop even further than the view had. What in the hell was this place? In the middle of the room was a massive, king sized bed, and two walls, facing the door and to the left, were mirrored, but to his right–from the floor up to the ceiling were racks filled with dildos, all of them carefully organized and arranged, in all sorts of shapes and sizes, colors and textures. “Welcome, to the headquarters of Asslickers Incorporated,” Ari said, “what I like to call artisanal dildo fabrication. What do you think?”

Jules felt a bit weak at the knees. He took a step forward, and nearly collapsed to the carpet, but Ari caught him, and helped him over to the bed, “Fuck, I don’t feel so good all of a sudden,” Jules said, his words slurred slightly.

“Yeah, muscle relaxers tend to do that. Still, you won’t have to move much–you’re here to help me out with product testing, after all. I just finished a few new models, and I’d love to see what you think of them. Now let’s get you out of those clothes, and get that hole of yours opened up, eh?”


Ari took a few minutes to get Jules into position on the bed, with the help of a triangle shaped prop under his abdomen, forcing his ass into the air, and his face into the mattress. He kept trying to make his body move, but the best he could do was flop his arm slightly, and uselessly. The rest of his body was completely inert, but his mind was still in good shape, and the numbness in his mouth had subsided, allowing him to speak with less trouble. “I don’t…why the fuck did you drug me? You could have just fucking asked me to help you out! I’m not much of a bottom, but I’d be willing to give it a shot.”

Ari was over at the wall of dildos–Jules could see him reflected in the mirror. He’d stripped both of them of their clothes, but he’d pulled on a pair of heavy duty rubber gloves which extended to his elbow, before climbing up a stool to look at his collection of dildos and decide what he’d like to test. “Oh, trust me–it’s much, much easier this way. See, my products offer…some rather special effects, which make quite a few people reluctant to try them, unless they have some particular interests. Some of the less popular ones, well, bringing men like you here is the simplest way to see how well they work.”

“Special effects?”

“Oh yes, rather impressive feats. I even have a company interested in a substantial investment, provided I could produce products aligned with their particular clientele. Not my ideal…but they were rather persuasive…” he said, one gloved hand fiddling with the ring in his nose. Still, the kinks have all been worked out for the most part, so you can feel some relief on that measure–you won’t be leaving a monster or anything, not like some of my earlier tests!”

If that was supposed to ease Jules’ worries, it didn’t work at all. Instead, he redoubled his efforts to move, but had even less success than before, as the drug paralyzed his body further.

“Now, first things first, let’s get you lubed up, and then we’ll start you off with a Pelt Pounder, I think. I want to see if I’ve got the dosage a little better in this batch,” Ari said. He returned to the bed, holding a modestly sized dildo, about six inches long and average in girth. It was colored a brownish red, and the entire surface…it looked almost hairy. When he got a closer look, he saw that the look was achieved by hundreds of small rubber hairs that covered the dildo, making it appear almost shaggy. He would have been impressed, but little could cut through his state of terror. He tried to console himself with the fact that it was no larger than the dildo he had at home for himself, when he felt so inclined, but it didn’t ease his worries much, as Ari scooped a substantial amount of lube into his gloved hand, and began worming most of his fingers into Jules’ ass. The muscle relaxers were working wonders back there as well, and Ari met almost no resistance. Still, he brought in a basin and gave Jules several enemas, until he ran clean, and then determined they were ready to proceed.

Jules had never been much of a bottom, for a few reasons. First, though he’d never admit this, he held a deep suspicion that being fucked somehow robbed him of authority. He’d never managed to articulate this to any of his sexual partners, but it was a reason why many of his attempted relationships had crumbled after a few years. The second reason, however, was that the few times he’d tried it, he’d never really gotten much pleasure from it. That said, his few tries were with rather unskilled tops–had he perhaps had a more enlightening experience when he was younger, it would have done much to improve his relationships. That said, when the dildo slid into him, he didn’t expect to feel much, and was instead quite surprised at how…enjoyable the sensation was. It was almost like he was being tickled on the inside–like if getting a hair caught in your throat could somehow feel pleasurable. But the stranger sensation came when the dildo was almost completely inside him–his tastebuds lit up in his mouth, and he could…taste the dildo, somehow. It matched the color somewhat, like a chocolate covered strawberry, but with the strange burst of wet dog on occasion that made him gag, catching Ari’s attention.

“What’s wrong, how does it taste?”

“Like a…chocolate strawberry? But sometimes it just tastes like wet hair.”

“Gah, it’s been so hard getting rid of that! Maybe I should just embrace it? No, that’s ridiculous…hmmm…”

“I don’t…how in the world can I taste this thing?”

“It’s an asslicker. My own invention–the first line of candy dildos..and each one holds a special surprise as well.”

“Surprise?”

“Heh, you’ll have to lick it for a bit–shall we find out how many thrusts it takes to get to the center of an asslicker? I love that slogan, but the legal department tells me it’s too similar to the original to get past copyright.”

The taste was intensifying, as Ari thrust the dildo in and out, and the sweetness melded with the wet hair into something quite unappealing, making him feel a bit nauseous. He was thankfully distracted by a new sensation–an odd tickling, this time on the outside of his body, all over his skin. His head was turned towards the mirror, and it wasn’t too long before he noticed something odd about his beard–it was longer. His usually short hair was growing as well, and even the hair on his body was growing in thicker. At first, he thought it was just the light, but there was something odd happening to the color of his hair as well. It had always been a very deep brown, almost black, but it was lightning, and soon matched the color of the dildo in his ass–a dark, burnt red. It was…actually quite sexy, especially with the white hair that remained behind. Still, the hair was growing in…surprisingly thick at this point–too thick even. “Uh…is it…supposed to be this thick?” he asked, “Wait, how the fuck is this even happening right now! Hair doesn’t just grow like this!”

“Heh, you’d be surprised what a bit of biology can do these days. And no, it’s still too thick I think, so I still haven’t got the dosage quite worked out for these. Maybe I should just sell them as a two pack of butt plugs. Two for you, or share with your buddy! I like that, actually…”

“You sound so fucking easy going about this, but I look like a yeti!”

“Well, you are a guinea pig…”

“Fuck you–when I get out of here, you’re going to be ruined, you do realize that, right? I have fucking powerful friends–you’re going to jail for the rest of your life, and we’ll see how many asses you lick in there.”

Ari just ignored the threat, and pulled out the dildo–or rather, the plastic stick that remained of the dildo. He hadn’t really been paying attention, but the dildo had dissolved inside of him. He stared at himself in disbelief, as Ari set aside the stick to be cleaned and reused, went back to the wall, and pondered which dildo to use for testing next.

The Fall of Troy – Part 2

Troy groaned on the couch, and shielded his eyes from the sunlight blazing in the front window. Fuck, how much had he drank last night? He didn’t usually get hangovers like this from a normal night of drinking, smoking and pawing his cock off. He reached out for the table, scattering empty cans too and fro, and thankfully there was a partial–flat and warm, but he chugged it down anyway, feeling some of it run out the sides of his mouth and down into his beard. He belched. One thing out of the way at least. He grabbed a cigar from the table and his lighter, puffing it gently, already feeling a bit better, and he laid back, rubbing his full gut, before letting his hand wander down to his hard morning wood.

“Awww, fuck yeah…” he groaned, and holding his cigar in his teeth, he rolled over slightly, letting himself grab the dildo which was still wedged in his ass, and start pumping it, “Nothin’ like a fuck to make a mornin’ better.”

He heard someone tromping downstairs, looked up and saw Leo yawning, naked, at the base of the stairs. For a moment he was embarrassed to be caught like this…but it sure as hell wasn’t the first time Leo had seen him with a dildo up his hole, right? Besides, he was too close to blowing to stop now, and if anything…seeing Leo sneer at him was kind of turning him on, and a couple strokes later, he felt his body spasm.

“Good to see someone’s morning’s going well.”

“Aww shut the fuck up, Leo. You makin’ breakfast?”

“Sure, but if I do, you know what you owe me.”

Leo made plenty of breakfast, and Troy plowed through two thirds of it, stuffing himself silly. Then, as was their usual bargain, he got down and sucked on Leo’s thick cock. He’d kept the dildo in his hole all through breakfast, and was again fucking himself with it, stroking himself closer to his second climax of the day, Leo helping him along by yanking on his fat tits, making his whole belly jiggle. Leo ended up spraying his load all over Troy’s beard, and Troy shot his load into his hand, before licking it up–but as he did, there was a flash of bright light from Leo’s eyes, and it was like a veil had been lifted. He screamed, heaving his fat body up, staring down at himself.

“What–what the fuck happened to me!” he stared at Leo and screamed at him, “You did this, what the fuck did you do?”

Leo just smiled, “Now now, is that any way to talk to your father? Especially when his cum is splattered in your beard?”

Troy took a step backwards away from him as Leo stood up, his anger boiling down into fear, “You did this. I don’t…Why?”

“Oh Troy, even when you were smart, you were dumb as a rock. I can’t very well have you draining your mom’s bank account with silly shit like ‘college tuition,’ or ‘room and board’. You see, milking her for money is my gig–but don’t worry, I’m sure with your skills we can find something for you to do with your life instead of college.”

“You can’t just…change shit like that.”

“Oh really? Tell me, what classes are you taking in high school right now?”

It was on the tip of his tongue, but not there at all. He wasn’t going to school–he’d dropped out as soon as he could…hadn’t he?

“No answer? Are you even going to school, or are you lounging around the house with your slobby stepdad, sucking and riding his cock every chance you get?” Leo fondled his cock, and Troy saw it was getting hard again already…and he wanted it. His body wanted it. His body was tired of dildos, it wanted its hole filled with flesh. “Tell you what, why don’t you go ahead and bend over the couch, and I’ll pump that ass of yours full of cum, how does that sound?”

His mind was fading fast, falling back into his new dullness. He needed a smoke. He needed a drink. He needed…he needed a fuck. His body was walking, not running. It was walking around behind the sofa, and he was bending over it, leg’s spread, showing off his fat ass, dildo still lodged inside.

“You need a cigar, son?”

“I’m…not your son.”

Leo shrugged, “Do you need one though?”

Troy nodded weakly, and Leo shoved one in his mouth, and lit it for him. “Now beg for it.”

“W-What?”

“Go on pig, beg for me to fuck you. Beg like those fat manwhores do in all those pornos you watch all day. Beg for me.”

“Not…I’m not gonna…” he moaned suddenly–Leo was working the dildo in and out, and then he pulled it out entirely. Empty, so fucking empty. “Fuck Leo, come on, put it in me already.”

“Put what in you?”

“Your cock man, your big fat cock, stuff your son’s fat hole full, come on man, I need it bad…”

Leo slipped into Troy’s hole, and laughed as the pig moaned. “Yeah, fuck, this is fuckin’ great. I could get used to this, you know? Fuckin’ not only that whore mom of yours, but her fat, slob son too. Both of you begging for my cock, all day long. Still, I’m really more of a pussy guy, you know? We might have to find a few more guys willing to fuck a nasty pig like you, eh?”

“S-Sure, but ya can stick that cock in my holes any time, daddy…”

“Heh, you fuckin’ slut,” Leo said, giving Troy’s fat ass a hard slap, “You’ll give your ass up to any cock that comes along. Still, don’t you fuckin’ worry, we’ll be keeping you plenty stuffed.”

Troy was fighting in his mind, fighting to hang on to any little shred of himself that he could find, but it just felt so…damn good. Sucking on a cigar, his daddy’s big cock lodged in his hole, what more could he ask for? He’d never wanted to go to college. He’d hated school, he’d hated sports, all he really wanted was to be a big, fat slob like Leo. With a loud groan, Leo came, pumping cum into him, and Troy felt his own stubby pig cock spurt his own load across the back of the couch. They both remained connected for a few moments, huffing and puffing, and then pulled apart, Leo collecting himself, Troy getting down and licking up his cum, sliding his dildo back into his loose asshole. But now, nature was calling–Troy hefted himself up. “Fuck, after all that pounding and I gotta piss like a horse. Could shit a mountain too, right about now.”

Troy smiled, “Make sure you use yours down in the basement–its all ready for you.”

“In the basement? Fuck, but then I gotta climb back up.”

“Go on, pig.”

Troy rolled his eyes, but obeyed unthinkingly, hefting his bulk down the stairs step by step, and Leo chuckled under his breath. By the time he had stepped inside and let out a gasp of surprise, Leo had followed him. He had to keep an eye on him after all.