Interactive: Frat Daddy (Part 2)

“Come on boys, time to get those asses up. We have a lot to discuss today, because we’re going to be making a few changes around here.”

The young men of Phi Beta Alpha all moaned a bit, still struggling with their hangovers and their recollections of their first wild party under their new Frat Daddy. Tyler sat up on the couch where he must have collapsed, looked at their frat’s Daddy sitting in a high backed chair in front of the fireplace, a mug of coffee steaming on the small table beside him, and a cigar burning in his other hand, and tried to remember the man from the night before.

He’d been older, but rather unassuming. Average build. He could almost recall glasses, but he wasn’t sure. A beard, but a rather thin one. Not unattractive, but not particularly striking either. He’d been wearing khakis, a button down shirt, no tie. The man sitting in the chair before them, however, only vaguely resembled the man from his memory. It was hard to take in anything other than the clothes at first, the leather boots shining in the light of the morning sun through the window, chaps stretched tight across Daddy’s thick thighs and calves, his monstrous cock and balls exposed, lying against the side of his thigh. He had on no shirt, just a leather vest and an armband with the insignia of PBA made from steel studs. The same insignia was on the leather muir cap he was wearing.

Under the gear, the man was simply massive. It was difficult to tell because he was sitting, but he had to be over six feet tall, perhaps by several inches. His shoulders were broad, chest and torso shaped like a barrel, packed with muscle and a tight muscle gut underneath. There was hair everywhere, across his belly and chest, on top of his shoulders and down his arms. He had a thick full beard with a touch of silver, trimmed neatly to about an inch long. He picked up the mug in his massive hands, took a sip, and set it back down. “Come on boys,” Ethan said, his voice deeper, with a bit of a western twang, “Hurry up and gather around Daddy’s boots, we have a lot to cover today, and you don’t want to waste Daddy’s time.”

The fratboys gathered around, skipping the chairs and the couches and instead sitting on the floor around Daddy, where boys were supposed to be, looking up at him. The more they stared, the less out of sorts he seemed to be, and Ethan smiled. When he’d woken up this morning, he’d felt like he’d needed a bit of a makeover, and the amulet had helped give him the body of his fantasies. Now it was time for his boys to help make a few more come true. He looked down at their anxious faces, none of them knowing what to expect, and his cock got a little harder, leaking a little bit of precum onto his chaps.

“Now, as your new Frat Daddy, my first impression of you boys here is that you lack discipline. For far too long, you’ve had Daddies who let you do whatever you like, who don’t best know how to help young men like yourselves grow up and mature into proper PBA men. Well all of that is going to change starting now. You might find me to be a taskmaster. You will consider my methods too harsh, at first. But these are the rules my frat daddy had for me when I was a PBA boy, and so they will be the rules you must abide by as well.”

He allowed a pause, but none of the boys spoke up. A few looked confused, their heads trying to catch up to reality as best they could. The amulet glinted in the sunlight–it would sort things out in any case.

“First things first, will be the establishment of a proper uniform for all of you boys, while you are under my care. While in the house, the only thing you will be permitted to wear are the items I am about to show you now. Outside the house, when you attend classes, you will be allowed to wear civilian clothes over it, but you may not remove the uniform unless given explicit permission, is that clear?”

Silence again.

“When I ask a question boys, the proper response is ‘Yes Daddy,’ is it not? Or do all of you lack even that basic understanding of your role here?”

“Yes Daddy,” the fratboys said, but it was a mutter. Displeased, Ethan stood up from the chair, rising to his full height of six foot five, grabbed one of the boys in front by the wrist, and dragged him forward so he was on his belly, and then Ethan straddled his back, pinning the boy to the ground, head towards the fireplace, with his ass before the rest of the young men. Ethan picked him because he hadn’t said anything either time, and he groped the young man’s tight ass in his rough hands. He brought one hand down, hard, on the young man’s ass, and made him holler.

“All of you will need to learn quickly that I do not tolerate lax discipline among my boys,” Ethan said, and brought down a hand on the other cheek, bringing out another yelp of pain. “You will not question me, and you will obey my commands with enthusiasm. You are members of this fraternity, this brotherhood,” he said, and smacked the ass before him again, hearing the young man sob slightly, “because you all wish to become proper PBA men. But I know full well that the only way to become a man is to be a boy first. Obedient, eager, and submissive.” Another smack, and the young man was shuddering now. “Do you all understand?”

A resounding cry of “Yes, Daddy” came from the fratboys, along with one whimpered cry behind him, and Ethan got off the boy’s back, rolled him over, and pulled him into his arms. The sudden embrace surprised the boy, and he tried to flinch away for a moment, but Daddy’s arms were too tight, and after a moment, he relented, and pressed his face into Daddy’s chest. “I will be hard on you. You will resent me at times. I do these things because I believe you boys are capable of withstanding them, and growing stronger. Some of you will not rise to the challenge I give you. Some of you will break, and will be expelled. But trust me when I say, that if you embrace me, my rules, my dominance, my order, you will understand in time that it was all worth it. 

The young man in Daddy’s arms, named Jamie, was caught between too many different feelings in that moment, and much to his surprise, began to cry, though he didn’t quite know why. The other boys looked uncomfortable, but Daddy stroked his head, held him close, his musk washing over him. “Daddy has you boy, you did well, thank you for serving me,” Ethan said, only loud enough for Jamie to hear, and much to his continued confusion, Jamie felt his cock throb. When he’d regained most of his composure after a minute or two, Ethan stood up and returned to his chair, but kept Jamie with him, sitting on the ground between his legs, both hands on his shoulders, squeezing him gently, reminding him of his power, and also of his care.

“First, on matters of personal grooming,” Daddy said, “All boys will have their heads shaven each day, when you wake up. You will rise at six each morning, gather in the communal bathroom, and shave one another’s heads clean. No one is permitted to shave their facial hair without my explicit approval, and the same goes for all other hair on your bodies. Shaving your heads is a sign of discipline, and your status–growing your hair shows that you desire to become men, true proper, PBA men. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, after you shave, you will be permitted your weekly, communal shower, and you all must soap and wash one another, never yourselves. Your soap will be unscented, and deodorant and any other scented product is forbidden. If you want to become men, you will have to smell like one soon enough.” He stood up from his chair, finished his coffee, and picked up his cigar. “Come on then, we might as well take care of that much. Then we will discuss the house uniform in more detail.

The boys discovered that all of the separate bathrooms in the house had disappeared, and one massive open bathroom had replaced them. Along one wall were several sinks and mirrors, along the other were toilets with no partitions. The third wall had a line of shower heads and soap dispensers between them. Daddy told the boys to pair up, take a stool from where they were stacked in a corner, collect a set of shaving gear, and begin–scissors first, if the hair was long, and then a razor–no electric equipment. Any boy who cut another would receive a spank from Daddy, for disrespecting their brother’s trust.

One boy, however, held back. Carter had been growing his hair out since he was little, and it was stunning–thick golden blond waves falling down to the middle of his back, which he usually had pulled up into a bun or kept in a ponytail. He was eyeing the scissors as someone would eye a noose, and Ethan went over to him, pulled him close, and guided him to a stool, telling him he would take care of him personally.

Carter sat on the stool, shaking a bit, obviously trying not to cry, while Daddy got out the scissors and ran his hands through his long hair, and at last, he begged, “Please Daddy, please don’t cut it, I’ve worked so long on it, please, anything else but not this…”

“Boy, that’s why I have to cut it,” Ethan said in his ear, “This hair is your pride, and no boy can become a man without being humbled. This is a gift for me. Offer this to me. I will not cut it until you ask it of me, because I have to know that you want what I can give you more than you want your precious hair.”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this to us!”

“Because you need it. Because all of you need it, even if you don’t realize it yet. You think this is enough,” Ethan said, wrapping one hand in Carter’s hair and pulling it tight, “But what happens when you lose it? You think this hair makes you a man. You think this hair makes you who you are, but look in the mirror, go on, look,” Ethan said, and turned him towards a mirror, and Carter gasped.

It was…him in the mirror, but…older. Probably in his fifties, but what Carter couldn’t look away from was his head. His hair was gone–no, not gone, but the ensuing thirty years had not been kind. He only had a ring of hair left, brittle and greying and thin, but still long–but he could see in his older eyes how empty he was. How hard he had fought to keep that hair, where he’d stored so much of himself for so long, and now that it was gone, what was left? He wasn’t looking at a man, he was looking at a shell.

“Keep your hair if you so desire. Leave. I can expel you, but know that this is what waits for you if you do so, if you turn your back on your brothers now. If you turn your back on me.”

“If…If you cut it, what do I look like then?”

“I do not know–that is up to you, boy, and the work you do here for me.”

Carter ground his teeth for a moment, before whispering, “Cut it.”

“What was that boy?”

Carter realized that the entire bathroom had gone silent, and everyone was staring at him. “I said cut it, Daddy. Cut it off.”

“Thank you boy,” Ethan said, gathered his hair up in a fist, took the scissors and sheered it off. Carter let out a sob despite trying to remain strong, and then went quiet as Daddy cut away what remained, lathered his scalp, and shaved him smooth. Carter looked at himself in the mirror again, and didn’t recognize the face looking back at him. That…older version, he had known that was him somehow, even with all those years between them. But this new head, hairless and pale, he didn’t know who this was at all, and that terrified him more. But it was done. Daddy administered the required spankings for the boy’s whose blades had nicked one another, and after a shower observed by Daddy, the boys dried off and went upstairs, where their two room dorm rooms had been converted into one communal living area. The boys personal effects were gathered either in a small chest between the bunks or at the floor of the bed, or at the desks lining the other side of the room. On each bed was a small pile of gear.

Ethan led Carter over to his bunk, and used him to demonstrate the uniform. First, a bulldog leather harness on their chest, second, a leather jockstrap, and lastly, a buttplug. The plug, Daddy said, was especially important. Any boy found without a plug in their hole at any time would be subjected to substantial punishment. The plugs he’d provided them to start with were small–he saw the boys eyes go a bit wide when he said that. Apparently, they didn’t have the same understanding of ‘small’ that he did. Ethan helped the boys into their new uniforms, often having to work the plug in himself, since they were a bit too shy. Much to his surprise, one of the only boys to do everything himself was Jamie, the boy he had spanked downstairs. Without so much as a whisper of disobedience, he put on the harness as Daddy had demonstrated, sat down, and worked the plug into his hole with a grimace, but succeeded with less tears than others. Daddy made sure to put a hand on his shoulder, reach down and give his cock a little grope through the jock, showing him that he was pleased. When all the boys were dressed, they lined up for the final piece of their uniform–their collar. One by one, they kneeled down before Daddy as he went down the line, put the leather collar around their neck and padlocked them closed, and had each boy kiss the head of his cock and thank him for accepting them into the PBA brotherhood. He had them all stand again, and he looked down the line, head’s shaven, strapped into their new leather gear, all of their faces coated with a layer of fine scruff, and Ethan had to resist the urge to order them all to bend over so he could fuck them on a line. Later though.

Daddy brought the boys back downstairs and into the kitchen–where they found that most of the cooking equipment was gone, with a sizable machine against the wall. “From now on, you boys will be kept on a strict diet–a minimum of 5000 calories a day. This machine will dispense meals for you, and also keep track of your consumption, so I can monitor your progress. You are, of course, welcome to consume more if you so choose.”

The boys murmured a bit, and one of them spoke up, “Daddy…that’s…a lot.”

“Do you boys want to grow into men or not?”

“But what if we get fat?”

“Luckily, you have access to a newly installed house gym in the basement. The food here is more than willing to convert to fat or muscle. Whichever you would prefer is up to you and your discipline.”

No one was sure how to reply to that, and were a bit scared of upsetting Daddy, and so they stayed quiet. “In addition to your new diet, all of you will be expected to smoke at least two cigars a day,” Daddy said, leading the boys to the sizable humidor that had been installed near the kitchen. “Why don’t we get started, since I know some of you have never smoked one before. Take a cigar boys.”

Ethan walked the boys through the process of lighting a cigar. He used his lighter–a privilege, he emphasized. The boys used long cigar matches, cutting the end, turning the cigar for an even light, several of them taking in too much and coughing. 

“That’s good boys, nothing will get you going and feeling horny like smoking a cigar,” he said, feeling the amulet heat up slightly against his hairy chest. Sure enough, some of the boys reached down and started groping their cocks, only for Daddy to walk over and slap their hands away. “No masturbation! Men don’t need to masturbate–men need to fuck. If you want to nut, you’re going to have to use a hole. One of your brothers’ holes.”

The boys looked around at one another nervously.

You can, if you so choose, offer your hole to a brother willingly. But, any boy who subdues and forcefully removes the plug of another brother gains the right to that hole then and there, regardless of who it is–you will submit, and submit gladly. 

It didn’t take long for the first gasp to come up from the crowd of boys. They all turned, and saw that Jamie had reached out and tugged Tyler’s plug out with a pop, making him double over in pain from the sudden removal. Jamie, who had been hard and horny since receiving his public spanking from Daddy earlier, bent him over the back of a couch in the living room, lined up his cock, and drove inside, gently, but eager. Half the boys watched in shock, while the others all backed up against various walls and looked at each other suspiciously, their own bulges pushing out as they continued smoking.

“It’s up to you all, how you will negotiate this. I know many of you consider yourselves straight, though I have my doubts. One thing you are all, for certain, is brothers, and in my years as a frat daddy, one thing I can say with certainty is that you will only get through this together. You will need to learn to trust and appreciate and service one another as you service me.

Against the wall, two boys, Jameson and another, looked at each other, reached down, and pulled the plugs free from each other’s holes. Jameson was still loose from getting fucked by Daddy the night before, and part of him…missed it. He turned around against the wall, cigar gripped in his teeth, and allowed his brother to plunge into his hole and start rutting. Other groups of boys were wrestling each other to the ground, to discover who would come out on top. Daddy watched it all unfold before his eyes, his own cock growing to its substantial nine inch length, and growled in approval. A boy named Steve pinned Carter to the ground, pulled his plug free, and replaced it with his own cock in a moment, and Daddy stomped over, gripped the plug in Steve’s hole, tugged it free, and pressed his own cock to the boy’s hole. Steve tried to squirm away, but Daddy gripped him, shoving his own cock deep into the boy’s guts, and driving his own cock deeper into Carter below them, smashed beneath them both. Daddy provided all the momentum. With each drive into Steven’s hole, Steven would find himself fucking Carter, who would let out another groan of pain or pleasure, or something between the two. Steve came first, but Daddy didn’t relent. Steve ended up unloading a second time with Daddy holding him close, the heat of his cigar next to his ear, Daddy growling sweet little nothings into his ear before spilling his own load into the boy’s guts. He pulled free, and shoved the plug back in before any of Daddy’s seed could spill back out. He pulled Steve and Carter close to him on either side, sitting on the floor, sharing smoky kisses and paying extra attention to Carter’s smooth head, feeling the boy shudder each time Daddy rubbed his hand over his scalp. 

Yeah, Ethan was going to enjoy this, he thought to himself, he was going to turn the fratboys into real men–the men he wanted them to be, and he was going to love every moment of it.


Here’s the next survey! Again, two questions are available for everyone, while two are reserved for patrons only. If you’re a patron, you can find that bonus poll over here! Otherwise, answer the questions below, and we’ll see where the story takes us next. As before, click and drag the answers to rank them from top to bottom.

Arctos: Mall (Part 3) [Interactive]

Jeremy gave his belly a scratch, and wandered a bit deeper into the store. He was…still pretty hungry, even after demolishing all of the candy that Saul had given him to eat. He noticed his reflection in the display case, and had a moment of terror strike him when he saw the size of the gut hanging out over his waistline–and when he saw how poorly all of his clothes fit all of a sudden. He tugged the shirt down a bit, but it wouldn’t even stretch down enough to cover the entire gut he now had, looking more like a crop top than anything else.

“See something in there that you like?” Saul asked, coming up behind him and wrapping one of his own chubb arms around the small of Jeremy’s back, squeezing his love handle on the other side, and making Jeremy blush.

“Oh…uh, yeah, I–” he looked around quickly, not wanting to fess up to the truth, and pointed at some odd popsicle shaped candies lying in the display case. “I…don’t think I’ve seen those things before anywhere–are they lollipops or something?”

Saul chuckled, “Yeah, they’re something like that. That’s a new product, fresh out of development–they’re called asslickers.”

Jeremy just gave Saul a curious look. “That…isn’t a very appetizing name.”

“I haven’t had a chance to sell one yet, honestly, but I’d be curious to show you how they work.”

“What do you mean, how they work? You just suck it, right?” Jeremy moved in closer to the display case, and looked down at the myriad of asslickers in the case. They were all different sizes and shapes, but the outsides of them all looked the same, a white candy shell swirled with various colors. “Do…are they all the same flavor or something?”

“Oh, that outer layer dissolves once you start–the flavors inside are all a mystery. The bigger the asslicker, the more layers it has, you see. I’ve been told that the taste of them is unlike anything else around, though they are a bit…unconventional. Do you want to try one?”

“Sure, why not?” Jeremy said.

“Alright, let me get some gloves–you go ahead and get out of your clothes there.” Jeremy looked confused at him, and Saul gave his gut a slap, and winked at him. “They’re called asslickers for a reason, Jeremy–you eat them with your ass.”

Jeremy processed that information for a second, while Saul went around the counter, and pulled on some white latex gloves. “You know, on second thought, maybe I’ll have something else…” He looked around the store again, and then thought he should probably just leave–but when he turned around, Saul was there, and pushed something into his mouth, a sucker, and as soon as he tasted it, he moaned, and his eyes went a bit slack.

“Come on now, sweet thing,” Saul said, groping Jeremy’s body, “I think we both know that you could use something back there to loosen you up a bit. Now, let’s get you out of these tight clothes.”

Saul tugged the shirt up, and Jeremy let him pull it off of him, still sucking helplessly on the candy, unable to think straight–it was just too…delicious to do anything other than what Saul told him to do. His pants came off next, and then his underwear–Saul collected all of his clothes, and took them back behind the counter, and put them in the trash. “There, that’s better–you won’t need those again, I don’t think. Now bend over the counter here, sweet thing, and let Saul do his magic.”

Jeremy lumbered over and bent over the counter, while Saul selected an asslicker from the case, and set it on the glass beside him, before coming back around. He spread Jeremy’s ass, tested his pucker with a finger, and tsked him. “So tight, sweet thing–don’t worry though, Saul can open you up–I’ve been told I have a magic tongue.”

Saul got down behind him, spread his cheeks wide, and started licking at his hole, Jeremy moaning–trying to moan loud enough for the sucker in his mouth the fall out, but it refused to come loose from his tongue. He could feel his virgin hole beginning to slacken, and after a few minutes of licking, Saul tested it with one of this rubber gloved fingers, and it slid right in with no resistance. “There, see what I mean? I think you’re good and ready now.”

Saul picked up the asslicker from the glasstop, and pushed the narrow end to Jeremy’s hole. As soon as it touched his flesh, Jeremy…tasted it, the sweet, sticky, sugary rush of the outer layer, and his ass relaxed even more, allowing the sticky dildo to slide deep inside his virgin hole. It was a tight fit, but the more his mouth watered, the slicker his ass became as well, and the better the thing tasted in his mouth. Soon, he was bucking back and forth, moaning, while Saul slid the candy cock in and out, watching the outer candy layer dissolve, and revealing the first of several layers below it.


The public poll is below, and the bonus patron only poll can be found over here. You can vote up to four times in the poll, and I’ll have the most popular layers in the asslicker, with the most popular having the most extreme effect.

Pigtail (1 of 2) – A short variation to “Asslickers” from a month or two ago.


You’re not opposed to a bit of kink. Besides, it’s a just a dildo–no one was going to see it besides you, unless you wanted them to. You’d seen the Arctos label going around, and you’d heard some crazy stories about their stuff before, but it was all just marketing hype, you were sure. Still, something about that just…called to you. It was part of a new line of dildos and buttplugs they were rolling out called Asslickers–and the one you purchased was a six inch, moderately thick pink shaft, with a curly cue tail sticking out the end. You don’t have a pig’s physique, really, but something about being called a pig had always turned you on, for reasons you’d never been able to explain well. Now, in private, you could look a bit more like you you thought, with a laugh.

It arrived a week later, and you’d almost forgotten you’d bought it. You had a free evening when it showed up on your doorstep, so you decided to give it a test drive. You took it out of it’s wrapped, and noticed that the surface didn’t feel like rubber–instead, it was hard and stiff with almost no give. Even the curly tail didn’t wiggle at all, which seemed to defy its purpose. Still, it seems like a waste to spend that money and not at least try it. So you get undressed, hop on your bed, lube it up and work it inside you. There’s a mirror to one side of you, and you can see that pig tail sticking out of your ass, and fuck, you feel sexy seeing that. Then you notice an odd taste in your mouth–or tastes, rather–and your body starts feeling…strange.

Your skin is hot all of a sudden, your gut gurgling. You think about pulling the dildo out, but a sudden horniness catches you off guard, and you helplessly reach back and start fucking yourself harder with the dildo. It’s odd–it almost feels…smaller in your ass, all of a sudden. You look back over in the mirror, and grunt in surprise–you’re…fatter. Not massively so, but you have a soft gut, your ass is thicker, your arms thick. You start grunting more, almost oinking and squealing at times, bucking your ass back…and you can feel you hold doing something…strange. It’s almost like it’s pulling the dildo in all by itself, swallowing it down…and sure enough, in a minute, you see that curly corkscrew slide inside your guts–and the dildo is gone. You never see it again, but you shoot one of the largest loads of your life as something presses it’s way back out of your body. You think it’s the dildo for a moment, but reaching back, nothing came out of your ass–no, a curly pink tail pushed it’s way out above your crack, and is wiggling with glee instead. 

“Daddy, I’m home!” Sammy said, shutting the door behind him. He dropped his backpack by the door, took off his shoes, and then started pulling off the rest of his clothes as he walked through the house, towards the TV den. “Sorry I’m home late daddy, traffic around the university was a nightmare.”

He stripped off his pants as he entered the den, where his daddy was on the couch, longways on his forearms and knees–where he was required to be as soon as the clock his 4:30 and his boy might be home. He had three dildos balanced across his flat back, and a tub of crisco at the top of his ass. He was sweating slightly from the exertion of holding the position, but nothing had fallen today. Too bad–Sammy had felt his daddy was getting too cocky lately, so he’d have to devise something else to knock him down another few pegs. The three dildos were sizable, but none were as large as Sammy’s ten inch cock, which he released from his underwear, half hard and already leaking. Sammy had banned toys bigger than his tool from Daddy’s house–but perhaps it was time for Daddy to take something larger than even his cock.

He went through their usual routine. Daddy kissed his cock and thanked his boy for choosing him as his daddy–said through gritted teeth, as always. Still, he said it–he’d learn to like it eventually–they always did. Sammy had only been training this daddy for a few months, since arriving here to attend school. Daddy had tried to pick him up at a bar, but had ended up on the receiving end instead. After paying tribute to his boycock, they started on the dildos. Daddy tried not to let on how good it felt, having his hole plugged, but like all of them–the more they had their boy inside of him, the more they needed to be filled. The poor daddies he’d left back home when he’d left for school–miserable, desperate creatures, all of them. He’d made them all life sized casts of his cock as souvenirs, but nothing could match the real thing.

Finally, after all three dildos in sequence, Sammy slid into his hole with no resistance. Daddy tried to fight back, but after two thrusts he was gone–his cock spewing cum, eyes vacant, drool flowing from his mouth as his boy rode him. Perhaps it was time to branch out–this daddy, he was thinking, could be a fist daddy. And so the boy started speaking to him in his trance, telling him that he’d always want his boy’s cock, but also his boy’s fists–and the fists of any man his boy took a liking to. Yeah, when daddy has to beg men at the bar Friday night to fist his hole, Sammy had a feeling he wouldn’t be feeling so cocky anymore.

Asslickers Inc. (Part 5)

Jules didn’t like the sound of that. “Why? Are you just going to keep me here? As some fucking freak for you to play with?”

“Oh goodness no, you’re pretty much used up at this point I’m afraid. Testing is always better on a fresh canvas–I can get a better feel for the effects. That said, I can’t just keep you here–I’d be drowning in you fucks before too long, with the amount of testing I have to do to get these models ready for production. Still, you’re not completely worthless at this point, so don’t feel too bad. You can still test one of the biggies.”

“The biggies?”

“Oh yeah–these ones are real impressive. Some of my best work! Not entirely sure I’d be able to pull them off, when Arctos asked me for them, but they actually work quite well at this point. Now, you’re going to get a rather special one–a new combo I’ve worked out just last week, and I’m excited to see how it works.” He walked back to the wall, and returned with a sizable shaft, this one with a rather uneven texture, and colored a dirty, greenish brown. It didn’t look particularly appealing, and he certainly didn’t want it going in his ass at all. “What in the world does that thing do?”

“This one? Well, this is the grand finale! It’s part of a new line I’m calling assbreakers–it’s got two mystery flavors inside as well, which you’ll discover soon enough. Still, it’s late, and I’m tired, so let’s get this thing in you, and see if it works how I hope it will.”

“No, look, please–I don’t want to change anymore! You can have the money, just…I don’t know, don’t do this to me again.”

“Sorry Jules, but this is the last one. You’ll love it too–or at least, you should by the time we’re finished with it.”

“But I don’t want–” he grunted, as the thick shaft pushed into his loose hole. It wasn’t as large as the massive one had been, but when the taste flooded his mouth a moment later, he gagged, trying to spit it out. “Fuck, what the fuck is this? It tastes vile!” It was like someone had wadded up an extremely filthy and sweaty pair of underwear into his mouth, or like hi tongue had been glued to the armpit of that one gymrat who never wore deodorant and never wiped the machines down after he was finished. It was filthy, and he couldn’t escape it. Ari pushed it all the way in, and then started pistoning it in and out, eager to be finished with this. Jules noticed that he was starting to sweat profusely, all over his body–his hair becoming matted, greasy and tangled–and then he belched, the smell roiling up out of him in a thick cloud of gas, and he was appalled by it…and yet…enjoyed it a bit, too. Fuck, no, he wasn’t going to enjoy this, he wasn’t going to be some disgusting slob! He let of another belch, bigger than the last, and followed it up with some gas which slipped out around the dildo, Ari waving the stench away from his face.

“No, I’m not going to be some fucking disgusting slob, you twisted fucker!” he said, and belched again.

“Oh? Tell me Jules, when’s the last time you had a shower?”

“Just…I mean I think…” but his memory was failing him, because he didn’t take showers…right? No, why the hell would he take a shower? He loved his nasty stench! Jules shook his head, fighting the thoughts invading him, faster now, but they were changing him faster than he could even grapple with them. He could feel the filthy taste rotting his teeth, but he didn’t care–he let off another wet fart, and laughed, smelling his nasty pits wafting up to his nose.

“Think I got that layer a bit too think,” Ari said, sliding the dildo out, to check it’s progress. “Still, I don’t think you mind much, right Jules?”

“Nah, I don’t mind none–fuck!” Jules said, surprised by the long, slow drawl which had warped his words. “What in tarnation? Why’s I talkin’ like some dumbass hick?”

“Cause we hit the second layer a few minutes ago,” Ari said, sliding the dildo out, giving Jules a chance to see it in the mirror to his side. Sure enough, the greasy brown layer had all been absorbed by his now filthy body, and what remained below was a red, white and blue pattern–a red field, with blue stripes and white stars…just like the confederate flag. “Aww nah, git that fuckin’ thang outta mah fuckhole! I ain’t gonna be no fuckin’ redneck!”

“Now now Jules, mind your double negatives…” Ari said, and pushed the dildo back in. Sure enough, the taste in his mouth was shifting from rank filth, to a new medley–tobacco, cheap booze and liquor, hay, dust, grease…it tasted like…like home? No, not his home, but it did make him feel comfortable, or somehow at ease. That was a trap too, he realized, but it was difficult to resist–in the mirror, he saw his hair shifting slightly, the top shortening until what remained was a mullet, straight out of the 80’s and very long in the back. He also knew…somehow, that underneath all that fur of his, he’d find all sorts of tattoos he’d picked up over the years–but the only ones he could see easily were the confederate flags on the sides of his flabby neck. it was getting harder to think–which wasn’t surprising. After all, Judd hadn’t gone to any sort of college–hell, he hadn’t even graduated from high school!

He was confused for a moment, about who Judd was, before he realized that was his name. But it wasn’t really, right? He’d had a different name, something else–but as hard as he tried to remember it, the further it drifted from his grasp, leaving him with Judd–and Judd’s dull life. Growing up in a trailer park, drinking and chewing tobacco, getting a job as a trucker which barely paid the bills, hooking up with other nasty pigs and bikers at rest stops to get his nuts off. His old memories of offices and city life had disappeared before he could even think to miss them, leaving him grunting and groaning, demanding that Ari, “Pick up the goddamn pace, ya fucker! Pound that nasty confederate hole a mine real fuckin’ good., fuck yeah…”

“Heh, looks like that layer’s all finished,” Ari said, checking what remained of the shaft, “Guess we finally made it to the creamy center.”

Asslickers Inc. (Part 3)

Ari heaved a sigh, “Guess I fucked the sequence up a bit–should have done a Tatted Twister first, but I won’t be able to see anything under all that hair of his…Oh well, guess we might as well go big or go home–how does that sound, eh Jules?”

Jules wasn’t listening–he was still staring at his now incredibly hairy body, unable to really process what had just happened to him. His hair had grown long, but at the angle he was positioned on the bed, it had flopped over, obscuring some of his vision. In front of him, he could see his beard, and it was easily a foot long. He had always wondered what he might look like as a redhead, but this wasn’t how he wanted to find out. “Look–please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone, alright? I don’t want to do this.”

“See? This is why I need the muscle relaxer first. Because even guys who are open to trying one, never seem to want a second. Well, unless they’re actually buying one of course,” Ari walked back over, and sat down on the bed, looking at Jules, sizing him up. “Probably easiest if I bring the scale in here, I think.”

He got up from the bed, Jules calling after him. He returned a minute later, wheeling a massive, industrial scale ahead of him, and pushed it up next to the bed. “Alright, now let’s get you loaded up.”

The rubber sheeting of the bed turned out to have eyelets all along the edge, allowing it to be hoisted up by a mechanical hoist in the ceiling. For several awkward minutes, as he was picked up in the rubber bundle, maneuvered over the scale, and dropped down onto it, he was forced to try and avoid getting suffocated by the sheet. When he was in a satisfying enough position for Ari to be satisfied with, he zeroed out the scale, and then went to the wall–and returned with a monstrous, pale white tube, thicker than an arm, and five or six inches longer than a forearm. “Newest model of this one–The Nuclear Tonnage! Just have to figure out how much tonnage we’re talking about.”

“Wait, what? What’s this one going to do? And I can’t take something that big!”

“Well…honestly? It’s going to make you fat. I’m not sure how fat–that’s what I have to find out, so I know whether I need to scale the mold up or down.”

“Fat? Oh fuck you, fuck no, get that fucking thing away from me, you fucking asshole!”

“Oh, don’t worry–you’ll love it. Everyone does–it’s built in! You’ll be thanking me soon enough.”

The scale had registered 235 pounds–which, excluding the sheet and prop underneath Jules, meant he weighed about 225. Ari spent half an hour or so, opening up Jules’ ass–first with one fist, and then with both hands at once. It hurt–a lot–but Ari had obviously done this quite a lot, and once the pain subsided…Jules refused to admit it, but it actually felt good…good enough for his cock to get hard, at least. Then the hands pulled out, and before he could object further, the tip of the massive, pale rod was at the entrance of his hole, and sliding in. It went it like butter, and inside, as it heated…it almost felt like it was softening, molding itself to his intestines as it slipped into him, making him shudder and groan with pleasure. “Oh god, it tastes like butter…”

“Oh, this one tastes like a lot of things, trust me–no dog hair though. And hey! You got it all the way in–good job newbie.”

All the way in? It didn’t seem possible, but he could see himself in the mirror, and sure enough, the entire mass was lodged deep in his ass…melting into him, and fuck, it tasted good. Like butter. Or…or lard. Yeah, like pure fucking lard, fuck it was making his mouth water. The warmth inside him, and the delicious tastes assaulting his senses blissed him out, so he didn’t even notice the first few dozens of pounds that added themselves onto his body–not until Ari started poking and prodding at him, testing his skin, and noted that, according to the scale, he’d gained 100 pounds, and it was still climbing at a good clip. Jules tried to pull his focus away from the maple doughnuts he was tasting on his tongue, and looked over at himself, now 325 pounds and growing. His muscles were buried below a hefty layer of fat, and the belly he’d always kept as thin as he could had grown into a proper, sagging gut. Still…it didn’t disgust him as much as he might have expected it to–if anything, he thought it looked…kind of sexy?

“Why…does seeing myself look like a pig…turn me on all of a sudden?” He asked, feeling oddly sluggish in his mind.

Ari started kneading his fat with his rubber gloves, making Jules moan in pleasure, sliding the slick, greasy dildo in and out of his hole a few times, seeing how small it had become. “Because that’s what it’s supposed to do–I told you you’d like it. Now shut up and enjoy yourself. These things are supposed to be pleasurable.”

He did his best to fight it, but as he expanded, he found himself excited to see just how big he might end up. He passed the 200 mark, putting him over 400 pounds, and still showed no sign of stopping, though the dildo was now only about a third of the size it had been to begin with, Ari ramming it in deep, Jules lost in the pleasure of his new body–so lost, that his own orgasm caught him by surprise. He could feel his cock pulse deep in his fat pad, cum leaking out and around his fat…and even that idea made him feel so fucking sexy. The scale finally came to rest at 332 pounds–putting him at a new total weight of 557–and suddenly, he wanted to keep going. Wanted to be bigger, the taste of butter lingering in his mouth but fading fast. “Fuck, he said, and let off a big belch, “I’m fucking starving–and shove another one of those in me! Make me even bigger! Oh fuck, did I…fuck, what the fuck have you done to me?”

In some ways, Eric just never really managed to grow up. If anything, he seemed like he wanted nothing more than to go back to high school and relive what he considered to be his glory days–captain of the football team, and boyfriend of the entire cheerleading squad. Or, at least that’s how he told it. Some of his friends who’d stuck around after high school knew better, and they’d listen to his stories become wilder and more fanciful, fabrications piling up on fabrications, but eventually it seemed like even Eric was starting to believe his stories at some point.

Still, not everyone was impressed by Eric’s braggart talk, and one old codger in the town, a man named Old Willy, who never seemed to age, and who’d lived in the small mountain town for as long as anyone could remember, was growing a bit tired of listening to Eric’s drunken bullshit at the bar when he was trying to watch his sports teams.

“Eric,” he finally said one afternoon, “Would ya shut up with yer piles a bullshit fer once in yer fuckin’ life?”

“Oh shut up Willy–no one gives a fuck what you have to say,” Eric replied, before guzzling down the rest of his beer.

Fed up, Willy walked over to Eric and whispered something into Eric’s ear for a couple of minutes, and the young man’s eyes went from something close to humorous to a horrific stare for the remainder, and then Willy sat back down, and Eric was silent for a moment, before he stumbled out of the bar, recalling the lies Willy had told him, about how he’d been enslaved one afternoon by Edgar, the old, obese janitor at the high school, hypnotized by him into the perfect jock slut, raped over and over by the fuck machines Edgar had designed specifically for his jockslave, and Eric tried to drive home to his parent’s house, but he lived with Edgar now…didn’t he? Why had he even left the house? He hadn’t left his master’s dungeon since he’d graduated high school.

When he got out of the car, his clothes had become a modified football uniform, his ass and cock exposed, and he went into the house before finding the machine he was supposed to be training on, and climbed on, letting it pummel his ass with the huge dildo Edgar loved using on his jockcunt until he was so loose he could barely tighten up again. And back at the bar, Willy grinned, his mouth half-toothless, excited to head over to his friend Edgar’s house for a piece of that uppity jock asshole. After his game was over though–he couldn’t miss his game for anything.

Living Latex

“You can’t be serious,” Ken said, looking at the thing Yosuke had handed him, “I’m not wearing this.”

Oh come on, it’ll be fun!” The slender twink said, “Look, I love having you fuck me, don’t get me wrong, but well…you’re just a little small is all, and trust me, I can take a lot. Come on, just trust me.” He ran his hand along Ken’s ridged abs, up to his thick, solid pecs. The big muscular guy was close to six and a half feet tall, massively built, and a definite top–but Yosuke was right–his four inch cock just wasn’t going to cut it when it came to a power bottom like him. The two of them had been hooking up off and on for a couple of months now, and Ken did love the slender Asian’s hole…but really? A strap on? “Come on,” Yosuke added, “It’ll just make your cock as impressive as the rest of you.”

Ken looked at the massive, flesh colored dildo in Yosuke’s hand, and felt…kind of angry. Sure, he was small, but he sure as hell didn’t like being reminded of it. But more than that, the strap on was…well…huge. As thick as a beer can, and over a foot long. If Ken did use it–and he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to use it at all–it just made him feel even more…inadequate. “Are you sure I can’t just fist you again? Come on, I know you like that too.”

“I do,” he said, “but I really want to feel a massive cock in me, you know? It’s just different. Please? Just once, and if you never want to do it again, then we won’t have to.”

Ken rolled his eyes, but took the strap-on back and looked at it, trying to figure out how to put it on. The entire contraption was actually made out of a single piece of rubber–he had to put in on like a jockstrap, and as soon as it was on, he noticed that the straps almost appeared translucent, and it was hard to figure out where the rubber ended and his skin began. Still, the other strange thing was that the strap on was so wide, that the fake cock actually had space inside for his balls as well as his own small member–so when it was fully on and he looked at it in the mirror, it was just this massive cock with no balls beneath–it looked ridiculous.

The fuck that came after wasn’t strange though–just boring as hell. Still, Yosuke seemed to enjoy it. As it wore on, Ken started being rougher and rougher–if the fucking twink wanted it big and massive, then he might as well abuse his hole good and bad while he had the chance–but Yosuke ate it all up–literally. Nothing was too rough, nothing was too deep, and after close to an hour of nonstop pummelling, Yosuke arched his back and shot his own load out of his cock, without either of them touching it once.

Ken figured they were done, and so he pulled out the strap-on from the twink’s hole and started fiddling with it, eager to get it off so he could get off too.

“Oh fuck,” Yosuke moaned on the bed, rolling over and relishing his afterglow, “We’re definitely going to have to do that again soon–like, all the time.”

“Fat chance,” Ken said, as he searched for the straps, “That was boring as hell–I couldn’t even feel anything the whole time. What the hell? Why can’t I find the straps?” Ken had run his fingers where the rubber straps had been, and while he could feel the transition from rubber to skin, he couldn’t for the life of him get a hold of the straps. It was like they had sealed themselves to him while he was fucking. Instead, he tried to pull the strap-on itself off, but as soon as he gave it a yank, he let out a cry of pain. “What the…is there fucking glue in this thing or something?” Ken gave it a few more cursory tugs, but it really did feel like it had adhered to his body while he was fucking the twink. In fact, when he inspected the seal–he couldn’t even tell where the rubber ended and the rest of his crotch began. In fact, if he hadn’t put it on himself, he would have actually thought the dildo was a part of his body.

“Yosuke…Yosuke, what the fuck is up with this? Why can’t I take this off?” Ken said, now a bit afraid, but the Asian was sitting on the bed now, looking a little guilty…and Ken just stared at him until he spoke.

“Do…Do you promise you won’t get mad?”

“What the fuck did you do?”

“Look, one of my friends used it, it’s a line of gear called Living Latex. I really like you Ken, but god, you’re a horrible top. I just wanted to, you know, make you better is all. And it worked, too–fuck! Come on, pound me again, I can take it!”

“You’re fucking crazy! Get this thing off of me!”

“Fuck me with it again, and I’ll take it off.”

“No, fucking take it off!” Ken shouted, pulling at it again, “I can’t feel my balls, man! What if it eats my fucking balls?”

“Who the fuck needs balls? I don’t want you cumming, I want you fucking!” Yosuke said, and got up off the bed, leering at Ken and stalking closer to him. He started backing up, but in the tight apartment, didn’t quite have room to maneuver. He got out of the bedroom and into the living room, where he tripped over an ottoman and fell–his head smacking into the coffee table, and he was out.

***

“Mmmm, oh fuck yeah, you’re so fucking big, I can’t fucking stand it!”

Ken felt his head start clearing up, a bit, enough to feel something bouncing up and down on his face.

“Fuck yeah, such a big fucking cock, stretching me to the fucking limit–feels fucking great!”

He opened his eyes and saw that the thing bouncing up and down was an ass…and the thing it was bouncing up and down on was…a dildo. A massive fucking dildo, even bigger than the one which had swallowed his cock and balls before, and he tried to squirm away and shout–but he couldn’t get a sound out aside from a muffled noise from his nose, which was pressed up against the rubber.

His mouth, his tongue, his teeth, all of it, he couldn’t feel a thing. It was all numb, and he knew–he knew, in his heart that they were gone. Gone like his fucking cock and balls, gone for fucking ever, and in a panic he tried to turn away, but Yosuke just sat all the way down on the cock, planting his hole at the very base, and then spun around so his head was looming over Ken’s face, leering down. “Oh good, you’re awake! You knocked yourself out, so I didn’t think you’d mind if I put a few more things on you. Do you like it? You were always so bad at talking dirty–I think having another cock here is a much better choice, don’t you think? And just wait until you see the rest of it! I love how it turned out. Just hold on a second, I’m almost done.”

Yosuke started fucking himself on Ken’s new rubber cock again, the muscular man trying to fight him off. He wanted to raise his hands and just push the lighter man away, but they just wouldn’t do what he wanted them to do–his legs too–it was like he was paralyzed or something, and with Yosuke’s ass in the way, he couldn’t look down at what had happened to him. It took Yosuke longer than a second–after another fifteen minutes of very vocal fucking, often grinding his tight ball sack against Ken’s nose, he finally shot a load which dribbled out of his cock onto Ken’s face, and he shut his eyes to avoid it. Finished, Yosuke picked himself up off of Ken and licked his cum away, something that disgusted him, but which he was still kind of thankful for in the end. “Alright, you ready? Let me show you.”

And then, Yosuke picked him up.

The little slender twink just reached down grabbed him around the waist, and hefted him up like he was almost nothing, and Ken squirmed a bit, not entirely sure what to make of it. He’d been 250 pounds before of almost all muscle. How could the little squirt haul him around like that? He noticed that they were back in the bedroom, and Yosuke spun him right side up and held him up in front of the mirror–and if Ken had had a mouth any more, he would have screamed.

His arms and legs–they were gone. Instead, massive dildos, just as big as his new cock and mouth, jutted out, rubbery and bobbling. No wonder he was so light–most of his body had been replaced with rubber. “Do you like it? I think it’s super hot myself. Still, I have to get to work. Did you know that you’ve been out for the entire night? Oh well, into the closet you go.” Ken fought, squirming around as best he could, but Yosuke just shoved him into the closet and closed the door. “Don’t worry, we’ll play more tonight–and I even have some friends coming over too–and I bet you’re going to be good and hungry by then.”

Hungry? Friends? Ken didn’t know what to make of it, but he gave up soon enough of trying to get out. His body was useless–he couldn’t move or crawl or anything–just sit in the dark closet, waiting for the hours to wear away…and as they did, he started to understand what Yosuke had meant by hunger. Now, he wasn’t hungry, perse–he didn’t want food, or even water. No, the need that started building up in him was different, it was the rubber in him…crying out to be used. They wanted to fuck, they wanted to fuck bad, they wanted men to use them over and over all the time, and Ken couldn’t fight it off. Did…did he want to be used too? Yeah, yeah, he wanted men to use him, to fuck themselves on his big rubber cocks. He was so eager for it, he was so hungry. Just an object, a bunch of fucking dildos, that was all he was good for–all that fucking mattered anymore in his rubbery mind. By the time Yosuke took him out that evening and brought him into the living room, his muffled cried of anger had become the mewlings of need..and when he saw the five other twinks he’d fucked at one time or another in the living room, naked and waiting, he sighed with relief and shivered with anticipation.

First, four of them took his arms and legs, so he was suspended between them, and then Yosuke took his mouth while another took his cock, and they all rode him together–Ken was in heaven. He was needed, he was being used–and he was a way better fucker than he’d ever been before. That was some consolation at least…right?

You did say your boss was a pain in the ass right? Well, I’m giving you the chance to be a pain in the ass right back. Don’t worry–no assembly required. Just go to the address provided–the enclosed key will open the door, and your bound up boss is waiting for you to torment. 

The included remote has four tools for his pain and your pleasure. First, your poss has been equipped with piercings which can be twisted a total of 1080 degrees for maximum pain delivery. The second button will activate the electrified sound inserted deep in your bosses cock, which is otherwise held in complete chastity. Third, the ball clamp will deliver a crushing pressure to his balls, guaranteed to bring even the most stubborn boss to his knees. Finally, the fourth will expand the inflatable dildo in his ass, stretching him as wide as a double fist. 

We guarantee that my the end of a single session, your boss will be a crushed, miserable piece of meat, begging for mercy at your hand, willing to do or say anything to avoid the punishment he deserves. 

Halloween at Pigtown #1

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