You look around the rest area…what are you doing here again? You were on a trip, or something, and…and what were you driving? Where were you going? Huh…that’s an odd thing to forget, you suppose. Still, it’ll come back to you…right?

You head into the restroom to take a piss–damn your ass hurts. You must have just had something a bit too spicy at that Flying J, when you were last on the road with…with someone, right? But with who? You shake your head and finish pissing, figuring it isn’t important. Right now you just have to go wait…yeah, wait for someone. You take a look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. When was the last time you shaved? Or had a shower? You take a sniff of your pits and recoil a bit. Fuck you stink–is that piss? You notice your shirt is damp…but you don’t remember why. Too bad there isn’t a shower here. Oh well, best to just go wait.

You sit down at a picnic bench by the trucks parked at the rest area, waiting. It’s a bit cold, and the hi-viz vest you’re wearing doesn’t do much to fend it off. You don’t know why you’re wearing it–only that it’s important. If he didn’t have it on, the man he’s waiting for won’t be able to find him. You hope whoever you’re waiting for comes by soon. There’s a trucker approaching–a bit cautiously–and as he comes closer he asks, “Need a lift?”

“Need a lift”–the words resonate in your head, unlocking all sorts of doors. “Sure thing, daddy,” you say–the sex rolling off your tongue. “I’ll go anywhere you’re going.”

“Get in the cab, bitch.”

You rush to obey, climbing up into his cab behind him. You have his dick down your throat as fast as you can, hungry for him, for your daddy. You love your daddy so much. He fucks you then, calling you a dirty filthy whore and you thank him for his cum. When he finishes, the two of you drive for a bit, you suck his cock whenever he has a load for you, and drink his piss for good measure as well, because you want to be the best trucker whore out there. This daddy is a nice one–he buys you a meal like he’s required to, but even lets you shower when you stop, and then he says the words, the words you hate–“I’m finished, fuck off whore.”

You forget again, you always forget. Wandering off, your ass tender, you look around for your car. How long has it been like this? You don’t remember. Still, you wait. Wait for the next guy to give you a lift. Wait for your next trucker daddy to come along and whisk you away down the road.

When most people find out that the water company is going to be tearing their street up for the next two weeks, they’re probably pissed off. Granted, it’s been loud while they work but man, the eye candy! I love a guy in work gear, getting dusty and dirty. Still, none of the guys were really as filthy as I like, so, being the nice neighbor, I’ve been offering them a special lunch each day.

I hear the project has been extended another week because the men keep taking extremely long lunches, and there’s been complaints about their collective hygiene. One of my neighbors even caught them having sex in her backyard–that was hilarious. I’ve definitely found my favorite though, and he’s getting some special treatment. Gareth just goes under so easy–I think he likes it. I’m gonna push him and see how far he’ll go. By the end of the week, he’s gonna be pissing and shitting himself as he’s working, not even noticing until someone else points it out to him. Sure, he’ll feel humiliated, but love the stench too much to even clean himself up. By the end of the week, he’ll be happily incontinent for life.

Fairytale – Part 3

This story got put on hiatus a while back, but I went ahead and finished it up. Here are parts 1 and 2

***WARNING*** This story contains watersports, scat, raunch and incontinence. Like, a ton of it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

As they left the theater and emerged into the hallway, Jeff turned to Harry and asked, “So, what sort of plans did you have for after the movie?”

“Well, I was thinking we could head back to my place and have a little fun, if you don’t mind hanging around a filthy minded redneck like me,” Harry replied, coming a little closer and sensing Jeff still raging attraction to him.

“Sounds like one hell of a plan to me, but after that drink you brought me, this daddy needs to go take a piss before any of that.”

“You managed to drink that?” Harry asked, “When?”

“While you had your face buried in my gunt, boy,” Jeff said with a grin, but Harry hadn’t really been interested in an answer–he’d only asked it to keep Jeff around for a second, while the spell took effect, forcing Jeff’s bladder to empty itself in the hallway as they stood there. Jeff felt the warmth in his crotch and running down his pant leg a moment later, and his face turned bright red with horror, as Harry grinned wide and quickly pulled him through a couple of doors leading into an empty side hallway, leaving a wet trail of piss behind them.

“Smells like someone couldn’t hold it in,” Harry said.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe…I…oh fuck, are you really…oh fuck, you nasty pig…” Jeff said as Harry got down, buried his face up under his gut and started sucking the piss from the fabric of Jeff’s crotch. Jeff’s hand wrapped around the back of Harry’s head and forced him in deeper, and the sudden assertion of control startled Harry, but also turned him on. Apparently Jeff was already getting dirty enough to assert some dominance in their relationship, but Harry was eager for more of that from him. He worked his way out and back up to standing, and gave Jeff a kiss, before pulling him towards the door out of the movie theater, but Jeff pulled him back and shoved him up against the wall. “Oh no, I pissed myself–I want you to do the same boy…I think that’s only fair.”

“But I already took a piss earlier–”

“Shut up and let it loose–show daddy what you’ve got.” Harry grinned, and decided there was no reason the spell couldn’t work on him as well, and a second later, piss was streaming out of his cock and soaking the front of his shorts, running down his legs and pooling in his boots. Jeff shoved his own leg up against Harry’s, sharing the piss and the two of them made out for a moment longer, before breaking apart and heading for the door, both of them soaked.

They took a moment to get oriented in the parking lot, and before heading for his vehicle, Harry decided it was time to give another one of the fairy’s spells a try. This one could would change the date of the last time the subject changed their clothes and showered, making them either cleaner or dirtier depending on which direction one went–but Harry knew there was only one way for Jeff to head. He decided, for a bit of fun, to make it so Jeff’s “wash date” moved back a day for every pace he took as they walked to Harry’s car…or what had been a car when they arrived.

Suddenly Harry could only ever recall owning a rusted out pick up truck, it’s bed heaped with junk and the cab filthy with trash and who knew what else. Still, they set off in that direction, Harry kept track of their steps as they went–and it took them longer than he’d expected–ninety paces, making it now three months since Jeff had last changed his clothes or showered, and when they climbed into the cab–he definitely looked like it. His shirt and pants were absolutely filthy, the wet sweat marks from earlier now dried under his pits and colored a brownish yellow. The front of his shirt was marked with grease and food stains from his meals, and his navy pants, were stiff with precum and piss. His beard had grown rather unruly as well, and when Jeff closed the door to the passenger side, the suddenly enclosed space was filled with the two men’s combined musk, making them both let out a moan and lick their lips.

“Well daddy, what say we head home and have some fun?” Harry said, went to turn the keys but Jeff lashed out and caught his wrist, stopping him cold. Jeff let go long enough to shove the smaller, younger man up against the side of the pick up, his musk overwhelming Harry’s senses, and making him suddenly feel…like he needed to obey and service this man more than anything else in the world. How powerful was that first spell exactly?

“First boy, I think you and I need to get a few things straight–there’s something funny going on here, and we aren’t going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is going on here. I don’t just accidentally piss myself in hallways very often, and I know I wasn’t think dirty when we left the theater. Now you’re going to fucking tell me, or we’re going to have some problems–got it?” Harry screwed up his lips, trying to keep the truth under wraps, but the sheer dominance Jeff was exuding was too powerful.

“Alright…alright, I’ll tell you everything…sir,” Harry said, “but it’s kind of a long story, so how about I tell you on the way back to my place?”

Jeff stared Harry down for a moment, but relaxed back into his seat, giving Harry a nod of agreement, and so he started up the truck, and drove off to wherever his new home was, and told Jeff everything. About who they’d been, about his trip to the restroom and his run in with the Fairy Grungefather, his own transformation and the dawn time limit, the spells the fairy had given him to use, and how he’d manipulated Jeff with them all night long. Throughout the story, Jeff was mostly quiet, occasionally asking for a point of clarification but little else, and Harry couldn’t tell whether he believed him or not. As he drove, he realized he was heading out of town proper, and after a half hour drive, they turned into a trailer park, and pulled up in front of a rickety and rusted single wide which Harry knew was his home. “That’s…that’s the whole story sir, like you asked for.”

“You realize that sounds utterly ridiculous, right? I mean, how in the hell am I supposed to believe any of that?”

“Well…uh…I could show you. I mean, I could use a spell on you, and you might notice it happening, now that you know about it.”

Jeff thought for a moment, then said, “Fine, give me your cock, boy. You’re not going to be needing it, the way this night is heading.”

“A–All of it? Can’t I–”

“Shut the fuck up, and give it to me,” Jeff said, and Jeff couldn’t resist the order, so he reached over, grabbed Jeff’s hand and swapped their cocks, leaving himself with a half inch nub, and Jeff with a huge cock a little over a foot long. Jeff rummaged around in his gunt in surprise, amazed not only that the spell had worked, but that he’d also noticed it happening. “Holy fuck, it actually worked…” Jeff said, then turned back to Harry, “Alright, now make me dirtier. Make it so I haven’t showered in a year.”

“I don’t…is that a good idea, sir? I mean–” Harry said, mostly worried that if that happened, there would be no way for him to resist Jeff’s sudden dominance.

“Just shut the fuck up, boy, and do as your daddy says, or you’re going to get it.”

So Harry did it, and he wanted to do it. He wanted to see what Jeff would look like if he were that filthy–he needed to see it. And so Jeff felt himself grow filthier, his clothes nearly turning to grungy rags hanging off his body, his pants torn, his shirt missing buttons. As the change progressed, Harry felt his will to resist simply withering away and eventually disappeared altogether. He needed to serve this man, to obey him. It was truly the most important thing for him to do. When it finished, Jeff looked over at the devoted eyes of Harry next to him, and knew he had his date right where he ought to be.

“Alright boy, now…you said that spell could transfer qualities, right? Was it only limited to physical ones?”

“I…I don’t know, sir. I only used it on physical ones, sir, so I’m not sure.”

“Alright, now here’s what I want you to do. I want you to try and transfer your ability to cast those spells from you to me, so that I can cast them all, and you can’t. After all, I think you’d agree that I’m the one who should have all the power in this relationship, isn’t that right?”

“Ye–Yes sir, of course sir!” Harry said, eager to agree, and so he he touched Jeff’s hand again and with all his might, willed the spells to transfer to Jeff, however, he had no idea whether it had worked or not, and neither did Jeff, apparently.

“Alright, how about we give this a try? I’m tired of these fucking business rags anyway–how about something a little more commanding?” Jeff concentrated and tried casting one of the spells Harry hadn’t used earlier, which allowed for the caster to change the subject’s clothes, and in turn, some of their behaviors, based on what they wore. As Harry watched, Jeff’s business casual started to twist and write, turning into a green and brown camouflage fatigues which were in relatively good shape, despite being well worn, with the name “Daddy Sarge” printed over one pocket. Even though his fat frame was stretching the fabric to its limits, Jeff laughed, amazed that it had actually worked, and Harry was next to him, awestruck. “Damn, I can’t believe that actually worked. How about you, cadet? You like the look of your new sergeant?”

“Sir, yes sir!” Harry shouted, not even noticing that his own clothes had suddenly shifted in a pair of similar fatigues and boots, though his name tag read “Cadet Pigboy.”

“Well why don’t you show off some of that enthusiasm and suck your sergeant’s massive cock,” Jeff ordered, and Harry immediately leapt to, and as soon as Jeff had his monstrous cock out, Harry did his best to choke it down, but with the extra gag reflex he’d taken earlier, he could barely get half of the shaft in his mouth, but he tried his hardest just the same. However, Jeff soon reversed that change, and Harry found himself able to deepthroat the cock with no resistance at all, as Jeff started swapping around their attributes once more.

He decided he liked being older, so he kept their ages the same, but he had to do something about this fat–he didn’t feel like it suited him. He dumped off most of the poundage onto Harry, taking his muscle, but leaving himself with a firm gut over his hard abs. He decided that if Harry was going to be his pigboy, then he was going to be smooth, and so he took all of his body hair, expanding his already thick pelt, and also took away Harry’s thick beard and hair, leaving him with a clean shaven, chubby face and a high ‘n tight haircut. To further cement himself as the leader, he stole several inches off of Harry’s height, bringing him down to five foot six, and bringing himself up to six foot seven, and to make sure Harry wouldn’t find some clever way to regain control anytime soon, he stole forty points off his IQ score, raising Harry a bit past genius and making Harry a certifiable, drooling dunce.

Happy with their new looks, Jeff said, “Alright Cadet, that’s enough sucking. Get out of the truck and stand at attention,” but Harry ignored him–and Jeff felt a sudden anger. He shoved Harry off his cock with enough force to slam him back against the side of the truck, and yelled, “I gave you a fucking order, now get out and stand at fucking attention, you piece of shit!”

“Ye–Yes sir!” Harry stuttered out, popping open the door and tumbling out onto the gravel drive below him. He scrambled back up and managed to get into attention just as Jeff came around the front of the vehicle, shaking his head.

“You’re a piece of work, you know that? No discipline, no fucking brain–I mean, look at you, you fucking mouthbreather, you’re drooling on your goddamn uniform!” Jeff shouted, closing Harry’s gaping mouth with one hand, and wiping his slobber off on his shirt. “Hell, I bet you aren’t even potty-trained…”

Harry suddenly felt a pressure on his bowels, and a massive load of shit flooded the back of his fatigues, and his face went red with humiliation, even as his tiny cock tried to get hard from the sheer stench of it, and there was just…so much of it. He felt it pack the back of his pants and then start running down his legs, and then he was pissing himself again, the front of his new fatigues soaked, and he did his very best to hold himself at attention, but his body shook with humiliation and arousal. Sarge came close to him and the sheer stench rolling off him brought Harry to his knees, head bowed, face slammed into his musky crotch, and when he started pissing, Harry started sucking it out through the fabric, lamenting every drop he couldn’t get through the fabric. “Look at you, you fucking piece of work. I don’t think you even deserve the respect of that fuckin’ uniform you have on–how about we give you something a bit more fitting?

Harry shivered suddenly, the cold night air directly against most of his fat body. In fact, the only clothes he was wearing now was a thick, heavy metal collar around his neck, a tag on it reading “Pigboy Baby Slave” and a thick padded diaper, sagging down with the weight of his massive load of shit and piss. As a final tough, Jeff added a pacifier with a six inch cock for a nipple shoved down his throat, and he laughed at Harry’s new look, the idiot just grinning as he sucked the rubber cock in his mouth, his thick mind unable of comprehending what was happening to him. He just felt so happy, on his knees before his stinking Master, his diaper full of piss and shit, this was all he knew, all he wanted. “Come on piglet, we’re gonna go have some more fun,” Jeff said, and walked over to the trailer. Harry tried to get to his feet, but found that he couldn’t walk anymore, and was forced to crawl after his master, oinking and grunting uncontrollably as they went inside.

It was many hours later when Harry, exhausted, finally collapsed and fell asleep. Harry didn’t notice immediately–he was too busy pounding his slave’s filthy hole with his massive cock for the third time, the feel, sound and stench of his slave’s shit squelching around his cock taking up all of his attention. He’d cut open Pigboy’s diaper once they’d gotten inside and forced his nasty slave to slather himself with the contents, before begging his daddy to fuck and fist his loose, incontinent hole, and Jeff had only been too happy to oblige. He came once more with a forceful shudder and heard Harry’s snores, and decided his boy had earned a few hours rest, before Jeff woke him up to eat his master’s morning shit. Fuck–morning–was it coming already? Looking out one of the trailer’s filthy panes, he could see the sky had started lightening, and as the first rays of the sun crested the horizon, Jeff looked back over his shoulder and saw that he was no longer alone.

“Ah, so, Harry, I see you enjoyed yourself tonight,” the fairy said, giving Jeff a wink, “Dang, you sure did do a number on your date, didn’t you?”

Jeff looked down at Harry, and realized the fairy hadn’t noticed the role switch that had happened halfway through the night. Hell, of course he’d think Jeff was Harry–he was the one with the spells as well. Did this mean that their time was already up? Jeff thought about it, and realized he didn’t want to go back to the prissy, uptight cub he’d been just a few hours ago–this sense of freedom, of power and dominance, it was too wonderful to cast aside now. “Is…Look, I don’t want to change back, I don’t want either of us to change back–can’t we stay like this?”

“That wasn’t the deal, Harry.”

“So then make it a deal, what do you want in exchange?”

The fairy cocked an eyebrow, “Well, I mean, since it seems like the two of you are enjoying yourselves, I suppose I could come up with an agreement of some sort. Here’s what I want. First, I want neither one of you to ever shower or clean yourselves in any way ever again. Second, I’ll leave you access to your spells, but only if, every day, you use them to make at least one man filthier and grungier than he was when he began the day. If you don’t follow through on either point, the contract is broken, and your magic will disappear, leaving you trapped in whatever form you might be in at the moment. Is that agreeable to you?”

“I’ll take it,” Jeff said, without a second of hesitation, and the fairy laughed.

“Very well, ‘Sarge’, enjoy yourself now–and I look forward to seeing your work,” with a flash, the fairy was gone, and Jeff grinned, looking over at his pig–this was going to be the start of a whole new life, even if it wasn’t the happily ever after he’d been expecting.

Halloween at Pigtown #2

Warning: this story contains scat and incest. 

On his way home from work, on Halloween night, Robert found himself in a neighborhood he had never been in before. He had been spacing out, thinking about the new account he was managing, when he noticed that he had turned off the freeway at some point and was now driving through downtown, or more likely, through the warehouse district. Even stranger, even though he had noticed what was going on, he still couldn’t bring himself to turn around; it was like his body had decided to go somewhere, and his mind had no idea what it was doing. Before long, he parked his expensive Audi next to a meter, climbed out, and started walking towards a large crowd surrounding a bar he didn’t recognize. Soon, he saw in neon lights the words Pigtown, and remembered the invitation he had received in the mail not too long ago.
It had been an invite to a Halloween party, but after some research, Robert had discovered it was a seedy looking gay bar downtown, and had thrown it away. He had a wife and two kids; there was no way he was gay, he told himself everyday, as he oogled his young male secretary at work. Having been raised in a very conservative Catholic home, Robert had long sense suppressed his homosexuality, instead committing himself to an unhappy marriage, and a constant rage which he took out on his inferiors at work. He was not a happy person, though he tried to tell himself otherwise. However, the fact that he was being drawn to this place beyond his control terrified him more than anything. He thought he was going insane, that the desires he had buried so long were no going to explode out of him uncontrollably.
As he stepped into the parking lot however, the feeling stopped, and he was in control of his body once again. There was a large line waiting to get into the club, but Robert decided it would be best to just walk away before anyone saw him. Still, there was some part of him which told him he should go in there, but that was the voice of sin speaking, which he had blocked out for too long to succumb to now. Still, they made him hesitate for long enough that someone at the doorway saw him, and walked over. He was a large, muscular man with a full beard and short cropped hair. He was dressed all in black, the cloth catching and reflecting no light at all. “Why Mr. Barrett, I’m so happy to see that you got our invitation. Are you coming to the party?”
Robert wanted to say no more than anything, but the compulsion arose again, and pulled the invitation he swore he had thrown away from his pocket, “I sure am. I even have my invitation right here,” he said, and followed the man past the line, through the doorway, and into the club. Again, he asked himself what he was doing, but was powerless to stop himself from waiting while the man rustled through a pile of clothing, and pulled out some old, worn denim, socks, boots, and a hat, and handed them to Robert, who just stared at the stuff in his arms.
“What, you expect me to wear this?” he said, his personality reasserting itself.
“Think of it as a chance to try something new,” Rod said, and pointed him towards a dressing room, “Now go change.”
Robert tried to stop himself, but he couldn’t resist the direct order, and marched himself into the nearest dressing room. Still unable to control himself, he stripped out of his business wear, leaving them on the floor as they fell. Robert had thus far waged a rather unsuccessful fight with his family’s Italian genetics. In his middle age, he had filled out considerably, with a large gut and substantial ass. However, as he began investigating the pile of clothing before him, he saw that even at his size not even he would be able to fit into this stuff easily. Most of the pile was taken up by a pair of very large, and not very clean, overalls. Along with that was a sleeveless, gray T-shirt, though he couldn’t tell if it was the fabric itself was colored or if it was just from the grime which had apparently accumulated over the years. Regardless, both pieces smelled rank like they hadn’t been washed in ages, but he happily pulled the shirt over his head, and the overalls on next, securing both straps over his shoulders. Next came a pair of grimy socks and muddy work boots on his feet, and then the hat. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but the trucker hat had a wig attached, with long stringy hair falling down the back, and a set of thick sideburns coming down the side, which adhered to the side of his face with a bit of tape on the back. Under the hat, he found a set of those fake redneck teeth, full of black caps and crooked things, which he fit into his mouth as well. When everything was on, the door opened again, and Robert marched himself out into the throng of the party, leaving his business suit behind in the dressing room.
However, where he exited the room was not the same place where he came in. He immediately turned towards where the exit had been a moment before, but all that extended in that direction was a hallway full of revelers. Assuming that he had simply left out the wrong door, he turned around, but found that where there had been a door moments before, there was now a blank, empty wall. He would have gaped a bit longer, but suddenly he was pushed along by a crowd, and rather than fall on his face, he stumbled down the hall along with them, looking for any sign out of the devilish place.
He walked along hallway after hallway, often convinced that he was going in circles, but somehow he managed to never come out into the same room twice. Many of the rooms were decorated with different themes, though the costumes were just as varied as the locales. The crowd was also decidedly gay, which terrified Robert more than anything. More than once he had stumbled upon a group of men kissing, or worse, sucking each other off, and he had turned around and fled before, heaven forbid, they asked him to join.
Occasionally, in the hallways, he would pass by an ornate grandfather clock, ticking off the minutes towards midnight, however, it seemed like every time he passed one, the time was drastically different than he would have imagined. Several times it had actually gone backward, once more than an hour, but always they chimed with the same deep, resonant tone, and ticked with a restless urgency which pushed him onward through the bar, and into another room.
Robert, however, was quickly becoming exhausted, and knew he would have to stop somewhere to catch his breath. He found a somewhat empty room, modeled on a fifty’s diner, and took a seat at the bar.
“What can I get for ya?” The bartender asked as Robert sat down.
“Just a glass of water, if you’d be so kind,” Robert replied, and the bartender whipped off, leaving him to mop his forehead with the collar of his undershirt. The man returned a moment later and set down a shot glass filled with some filthy brown liquid, which Robert just stared at.
“What the hell is this? I asked for water, you stupid shit!” he shouted, but the man had disappeared, leaving Robert alone with his shot. He sighed, but without really thinking about it, took the glass and threw back the entire contents, which burned its way all the way down to his stomach, making him cough and sputter. Robert didn’t know why he had done that, but he hadn’t been able to even think about not doing it.
“Another?” the bartender asked, as he poured another shot, “Here, I’ll just leave you the bottle,” he added, and disappeared again.
Robert knew he should get up and keep looking for a way out, but he downed the shot in front of him and poured another, before drinking that one too. After that, he ignored the glass and just started taking swigs from the bottle. Before long, he was feeling very drunk, but very good. In the distance, he became aware of the clocks in the room chiming midnight, and vaguely wondered what his wife was doing. He should have been home hours ago, had she called the police? No one knew he was here, and he certainly had no idea how he was going to get out. Did he really want to get out? He was happy with his booze he thought, as he took another swig.
“There ya are Pa! I been lookin’ everywhere fer ya,” a voice said behind him, and a muscular construction worker sat down on the bar stool next to him.
Robert just stared at him for a moment, and felt like he should recognize him, but couldn’t. “Wh…Who the hell’er you?” he slurred, and almost slid off the stool to the ground, but the man caught him mid step and hefted him back onto the seat, all four hundred and fifty pounds of him. Robert was by no means a small man, with fat packed into his oversized overalls wherever it could fit, and his massive tits stretched his shirt to the limit and clearly outlined his nipples through the gray fabric. He had three chins on a good day which covered the collar of his shirt, and his bushy sideburns made his fat, bright red cheeks look even bigger. He took off his hat for a moment and scratched his bald head, and ran his hand through the stringy hair still left on his head. The word “skullet” flashed through his mind, but he couldn’t really make sense of it. He was too drunk to make sense of anything.
“Come on Pa, Ya had too much tah drink. Let’s get ya home,” He got a hold on Robert’s arm, but he yanked it away.
“I can get up myself, thank you very much!” he said, and stumbled up, lumbering across the bar, occasionally falling against a table for support.
He made it all the way to a doorway before he heard the man call out behind him, “The truck’s this way, Pa,”
“How do you know? I been all over this place, and it’s all a maze. We ain’t ever gonna get out!”
The man walked over, grabbed Robert by the arm, and dragged him over in the other direction, “Alright, ya had enough, now let’s get goin’,”
Robert tried to pull away, but the man was too strong and too insistent, while Robert was too drunk to know better. As he followed behind, it occurred to him that he had no idea who he was following, “Wait now,” Robert said, “Who are you again?”
“Damn it pa, I hate it when ya drink—now come on. Now we need tah get ya home. I have work in the mornin’.”
“But ya don’ even know where I live,” Robert mumbled.
“Of course I do—ya live with me! Geeze yer thick tonight.”
Robert couldn’t make heads or tails of that, but figured that this guy must be one of his kids, sent by his wife to take him home. It didn’t really make a lot of sense, but then, nothing was making much sense tonight. He didn’t really care though, as long as he got out of this crazy place.
Sure enough, his son led him down some stairs, and before Robert knew it, they were outside in the parking lot, or at least a parking lot. He tried to walk off in the direction he thought his car was, but his son was pulling him in the wrong direction. “Damn it boy,” he cried, “We done parked over there!”
“Pa, the truck’s right here,” he said, and popped open the door of an old beat up pickup. He helped his old man into the passenger door, and climbed in the driver’s side. “Ya all set Pa?” he asked, and when Robert nodded his fat face, he started the truck with a clunk, and took off down the road.
Robert figured that they would be heading home, but instead of heading towards the suburbs, his son got onto the highway and left town, instead heading into the country. Robert knew something was wrong, but he was too drunk really to think about much. Instead, he felt something else begin to brew inside of him. Looking over at his son next to him, he was suddenly struck by how handsome he was. He hadn’t really bothered looking at him in the club, but suddenly he was taking in every detail, from the close cropped hair on his head, the bushy goatee framing his adorable mouth, and his rough calloused hands. He was also very muscular, and Robert felt his dick begin to harden in his overalls. Unable to stop himself, he reached over and started groping his boy’s crotch, surprised by the size of the cock he found in the well worn jeans.
“Come on Pa, you’re too drunk for that right now,” he said.
Robert just kept groping, feeling his son’s cock begin to harden, “Come on Jimmy boy, I can’t help it if you’re the hottest guy around,” Jimmy, that was his son’s name. Why hadn’t he been able to remember that earlier? Now overwhelmed with lust, he leaned over and began licking Jimmy’s neck, causing him to swerve a bit on the road.
“Dammit Pa! I’m tryin’ tah drive, can’t it wait ‘til we get home?”
“Oh hush boy,” Robert whispered in his ear, “I know ya don’t want tah wait ‘til we’re home…”
        Jimmy drove for a moment longer, and then steered the car off the rural highway, and then a ways into the underbrush, the truck bouncing wildly. Before he could even get the car into park, be was kissing his Pa madly, forcing the fat man back against the window, pinning him there. Robert immediately began unbuttoning Jimmy’s flannel shirt, rubbing his hands through the thick forest of hair beneath. He smelled like he hadn’t bathed in a few days, but that just made Robert hotter. He buried his nose in his son’s pit and started licking up as much sweat as he could. “Yeah pig daddy, lick out my nasty pit, ya like that funk?” Jimmy said.
        “Hell yeah boy, ya know I’ll do anythin’ tah lick out yer pits. Hell, I’ll lick all ya if ya give me a chance. But what I really want is in here,” Robert said, and groped Jimmy’s cock some more.
        “Well, there ain’t enough room in here fer that. Get out, and we’ll have some fun in the back,” Jimmy said, and both of them climbed out and walked around to the back. It took some work, but they managed to get Robert’s massive frame up into the bed. The entire truck sagged with the weight of him, but he crawled forward anyway, giving Jimmy room to heft himself up after him. Once they were both up, they began undressing each other. Soon, Jimmy was naked, but he wanted Robert to leave his overalls on. “You know how hot I get with my Pigdaddy in his overalls,” he said, and the thought made Robert shiver. He loved being Jimmy’s Pigdaddy so much.
        “Well if yer so horny, get over here n’ fuck me already, boy!” Robert said on his hands and knees, “Fuck this Pigdaddy of yours.”
        “Ya want me tah stick this big, fat cock up your butthole?” Jimmy asked, as he got behind him. He spread apart Robert’s ass, exposed through the large hole in the seat of his overalls and chuckled, “Damn Pa, ya sure got yerself a dirty crack!”
        “Not like yers is much cleaner boy, now get on with it,”
        “Not so fast,” Jimmy said, as he lubed up some of his fingers with spit, “Ya ain’t quite warmed up fer me yet,” and he started worming his middle finger into Robert’s hole.
        “Oh fuck yeah,” Robert said, pushing against his son’s hand, “Get all those fuckers in there!”
        “All of them? Alright, you asked for it,” Jimmy said, and after lubing up with some more spit, worked his entire fist into Robert’s ass.
        It hurt like hell, but the drunkenness dulled the pain, and just made Robert hornier. He began to snort loudly as his sphincter closed around Jimmy’s wrist, and the hand worked deeper into his colon.
        “Yeah you fuckin’ pig! How’s that feel?” Jimmy said as he massaged his daddy’s prostate, making him pant and snort louder. Before he could stop himself, Robert felt his cock explode, cum spurting out in massive bursts, soaking the crotch of his overalls as he squealed. Jimmy reached under and laughed, “Yeah, that got you all wet, didn’t it? Now, how about I give you a good fuck?” He pulled out his fist and quickly replaced it with his cock, which slipped easily into the already wrecked hole. Even with the warm up, Jimmy’s ten inch cock stretched Robert to the limit, and all he could do was hang on to the truck while his son fucked him wildly. Despite having cum once already, he could feel his cock already hardening again, and he was struck for a moment by the wrongness of what he was doing. Not only was he having sex with a man, his own son was fucking the daylights out of him, and Robert was practically begging him for more. It still felt so right though, and he pushed back harder, relishing the feeling of his massive amounts of fat shaking with every thrust. Honestly, he couldn’t be more proud of his son, and the great fucker he had grown up to be. Before too long, he heard his boy grunt behind him and unload deep inside of him. He wrapped his arms as far as they could go around his father’s rotund form, staying inside until he had gone completely soft.
He sat back, allowing Robert to turn around and join him with their backs against the window. Robert was panting loudly from the exercise, though it hadn’t made him any less drunk, and only a little less horny. He couldn’t resist lowering his fly, which was still sopping with his cum from moments before, fishing out his cock, and jacking off.
“Damn Pa, yer still horny after that?”
“Fuck son, you know yer dad is always horny. How about you help me out with this thing?”
“Nah, I got a better idea,” Jimmy said, and held his hand, still shitty from their earlier fisting, under Robert’s nose, who took a good sniff, and sucked the index finger into his mouth. The taste of shit made him moan, and got his dick even harder. Before long he had cleaned off his son’s whole hand, who then stood up and rammed his shit smeared cock down his father’s throat. Robert just sucked as hard as he could, hotter than he had ever been in his life.
He was no longer appalled that he was sucking his own shit of his son’s cock, this is what he was supposed to be doing. He loved the taste of ass, especially his own, and Jimmy knew that. When he pulled it out a minute or two later, his cock was spotless, and Robert licked his lips. “Please, I need more, boy,” Robert gasped, still jacking his cock.
“Then eat out my crack, ya fuckin’ pig,” Jimmy said, spread his ass wide open, and pushed it up against his father’s face. Robert immediately groaned with lust and began lapping at the mix of dry and wet shit. From the amount of it, he hadn’t wiped at least for a day or two, and it was driving Robert wild. He felt his orgasm begin to build, and let loose another torrent of cum while his son cheered him on. The last thing Robert remembered before he passed out was Jimmy turning around, stroking his hard cock a couple of times and blowing another load all over his father’s face. Happy and somewhat satisfied, Robert felt himself drift off into a drunken slumber.

The Boys (Part 2)

***WARNING–Contains scat. Don’t like it? Not my responsibility.***

“Yeah Daddy, you look so hot with that beard, sucking my cock. You like it, don’t you? Do you like sucking your boy’s cock?”
“Oh yeah,” Jim moaned, running the shaft through his beard, “I like it a lot boy. I love your cock in my mouth,” he said, and then went back to taking the long dick as far into his throat as he could.
Damn, you two are fucking hot,” Gus said when he came back in, carrying a fifth of whisky in his hand, “Give it a rest for a moment. Our daddy has a bit of growing up to do,” he screwed off the cap, and handed it to Jim, who looked at it, puzzled.
“Go on,” Billy said, “Every daddy likes whisky. It’ll put some hair on your chest, too.”
Jim took a tentative taste—he had never had straight liquor before, and even though it burned, it didn’t taste half bad. He took a few more shots, and he felt the burning feeling begin to radiate, and make him itch. Before his eyes, a thick mat of hair began erupting all over his body, obscuring his chest in a forest of brown hair. Even his arms, all the way to his knuckles, were hairy. Then, he watched as some of the hairs began to lighten to white, as he felt some of his youthful strength and vigor ebb away. His hair receded from the front, leaving him with a long, horseshoe of mostly white hair, and a thick white beard with a few strands of dark blonde. Gus took the half empty bottle away, and Jim listed a bit, already feeling the high grade alcohol rush into his system. “That’s…that’s some good shit,” he slurred a little, and then went back to sucking on Billy’s cock.
“Dang Gus, you were right. He did shape up into a good looking daddy,” Billy said.
“Yeah, but he ain’t done yet. Not by quite a bit. He might look like a daddy, but he don’t really act like one yet. He’s too smart, for one thing.”
Jim pulled his mouth off of Billy’s cock and said, “What do you mean, ‘too smart’?”
“Well, any good daddy didn’t go to a fancy college or nothing. Hell, the best daddies dropped out before they got into high school! You do want to be a good daddy, don’t ya?”
“Of course, boy.”
Gus pushed Billy to the side, and sat down next to Jim. “Then here’s what ya have to do. First look at the fire. You remember the fire, don’t ya? How calming it is?”
“Yeah, real calming.” Jim droned, as he fell back into his deep trance, assisted by the earlier alcohol.
“Then here’s what ya have to do. I want you to pretend that you are holding a stack of photographs. All of them are from your life. The one on top shows you graduating from college, doesn’t it?”
“Ya. I see my mom and dad are there, cheering me as I walked across the stage.”
“That’s what’s on the picture sure, but that didn’t really happen, did it?”
“It didn’t?”
“How could it? You’re our daddy, and our daddy never went to college.”
“But—“
“No buts. It isn’t a real memory, is it?”
“I…I guess not.”
“Then throw it on the fire, and forget all about it.”
Jim mimed throwing a piece of paper onto the flames, and then Gus said, “So, daddy, did you graduate from college?”
“Of course not, boy.”
“I didn’t think so. The next few pictures are from college too, aren’t they? But that didn’t happen either. You might as well throw the next few on the fire as well.”
Jim pretended to throw a few more things on the fire, and then said, “Ok, they’re all gone.”
“Then the next pictures are all from high school, aren’t they? But those didn’t happen either. With each one, you can see all of those false memories from school, but they aren’t real. You should burn them and forget them.”
One by one, Jim threw the pictures onto the fire, erasing them from his past. And when he was done, part of him felt empty and gone. “What now?”
“Now, we fill in what really happened,” Gus said, “Now you have a new set of pictures. These are all ones that really happened. In the first one, you can see yourself in grade school, failing the third grade for the second time.”
“Wow, was I that dumb?”
“You were that dumb, and you still are, aren’t you?”
“Am I?”
“Well, you didn’t go to high school, or to college. You must be pretty dumb then.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“The next one shows you in the fifth grade, trying to read from a book, but you can’t, because you never learned how.”
“I never learned to read? At all?”
“Nope. You can write your name, but that’s it.”
Jim looked sad, but Billy piped in, “Don’t worry daddy, you don’t have to read here. We can’t read either! Well, I can’t, but Gus can.”
“And the next picture shows you skipping class in the seventh grade so you could go suck dick at the local glory hole.”
“Now wait…I didn’t really do that.”
“Sure ya did, all the time. You thought dick was much better than school.”
“But I liked school.”
“No you didn’t. You hated to learn things. I mean, you can’t even add!”
“I can too!” Jim yelled, and Gus grinned.
“Alright, prove it. What’s two plus three?”
“Uh…” Jim said, but for the life of him, he couldn’t come up with an answer. He looked down at his fingers, and held up two on one hand, and three on the other. “It’s uh…five?”
Gus looked impressed, “Well done, but here’s a hard one. What’s five plus seven?”
Jim looked back down at his fingers, but it was impossible. He couldn’t get that many fingers on his hands, all he could get was ten. “Uh…ten?”
“Nope, twelve.”
“But ten is all the fingers I got.”
“Don’t worry about it daddy. Now do you see why you were sucking cocks? Sucking cocks is what you’re good at.”
“I am good at it.”
“See? That’s why you’re going to be a great daddy.”
Jim beamed. He may not be smart, but he had the two best boys in the whole world. “Thanks boy. Now, can I suck your cock some more?”
“Soon, but there’s a few more things you have to do to be a good daddy for us.”
“What?” Jim asked.
“Well, we like our daddies to be dirty.”
“Oh yeah,” Billy chimed it, “Dirty like us!”
“Yeah, you have to like being dirty too.”
“But…how am I supposed to like it?”
“Here,” Gus said, “I’ll show you daddy. First, ya gotta stand up.”
It took some effort, but eventually Jim managed to hoist himself off of the couch so that he was standing before Gus. He was surprised at how weak he suddenly felt, and realized that he was shorter than he had been. Where he had been several inches taller than both boys earlier, he now stood at eye level with their chins. “Ok, now what?”
“Now, smell,” Gus said, and lifted his arm up, revealing his damp, sweaty pit. Jim took a sniff, but the rank scent overwhelmed him before he got too close.
“Damn boy, you reek!” Jim said, but Gus just grabbed the back of his head, and thrust his face into the smell.
“You may not like it at first, but it’ll grow on ya,” Gus said, as Jim struggled, but the more he breathed, the more he liked it. Soon, he extended his tongue and took a lick, and then began licking it whole heartedly, moaning as he did, “Damn boy, you were right. This is nice.”
He then moved to the other side, and licked that one clean too, and then did the same for Billy’s. When he was finished, he picked a hair out of his mouth, and then Gus and Billy each took a side, and lifted up one of his arms. “Now, it’s your turn,” Gus said, and then they both began slurping up and down Jim’s pits. A moment later, they surfaced, and Gus said, “Now you have some nice daddy pits. Smell those fuckers.”
Jim leaned in close, and took a deep whiff of the sweaty fuck coming off of them, and sighed, “Damn boys, you did a nice job on those.”
“ We ain’t done yet. Now get on our knees, daddy.”
Again, it was a bit of a struggle, but Jim made it down alright. As soon as he was down. Gus and Billy both took their cocks and started pissing on him. At first, Jim was disgusted, but soon he was trying to get as much of the golden liquid down his throat as he could, but the boys kept moving their streams, soaking every inch of his body. Without realizing it, Jim even began to empty his own load of piss right into his overalls. Eventually, their streams slowed to a trickle, and amazingly, Jim realized that he was nearly dry a few moments later. However, that is not to say he was without changes. His hair and beard were now tangled and knotted, as though they hadn’t seen a comb in ages, and his mouth now tasted like he had been sucking on a jockstrap. He also ran his tongue around in his mouth, and found that half the teeth in them had just dissolved away, and the rest all hurt like they were partially rotten. The rest of him smelt to high heaven, though the worst still came from his armpits, and what had been a fairly clean set of overalls were now ragged and filthy, with many holes. One of the straps had broken entirely, and one of the knees was ripped clean through.
“Now, you’re a good looking daddy,” Gus said, and Billy beamed.
“Fuck that,” Jim said, “I don’t want to be a good looking daddy, I want to be the hottest daddy there ever was! Make me dirtier.”
Gus laughed, “Now daddy, there ain’t no need—“
“I said, make me dirtier boy!” Jim yelled, and Gus shrugged.
“Well, since you’re asking for it,” Gus said, “We can make it so.” Gus stripped out of his overalls, and then bent over the arm of the couch, pushing his ass towards Jim, “Eat it out, if you want to be a fucking pig about it,”
Jim got down on his knees, and immediately dug into his boy’s ass, eating up all of the lose specks of shit he could find. Before long, it was perfectly spotless, and Jim sat back, a good part of his beard brown. Gus turned around, and pushed Jim back, until he was lying on the floor.
“You want to be the dirtiest fucking daddy there is? Fine. Here it comes then,” Gus said, and then squatted over Jims face, and let lose a spray of shit all over him. He moved down and repeated the process, until Jim was covered from head to toe in brown muck, which dried almost immediately, leaving him with shit caked up and down his body, and an insatiable hunger for ass.
He hadn’t seen Billy return from the kitchen with a plate, nor did he see him squat over it in the corner. But when Billy handed him the plate, piled high with several fat logs, he devoured them one by one, and then licked the plate clean.
“Only one more thing, I think,” Gus said, “If you really want to be as dirty as you can be,”
Jim nodded, “Hell ya boy, lay it on me.”
“Then stand up, and bend over.”
Jim did as he was told, bending over the arm of the couch as Gus had done. Gus ripped open the seat of Jim’s overalls, and then said, “Ok? Here it comes,” and then pushed his fist up into Jim’s ass.
Jim yelled in pain as he felt his sphincters loosen, and a moment later, when Gus pulled his hand out, He found that he couldn’t retighten them, and he felt a turd just makes its way out of his hole and, instinctively, he clamped down on it with his ass, mushing it between them. “Damn boy, what the fuck did you just do?”
“I made you a pants-shitter, daddy. The dirtiest of them all.”
“Well…fuck,” Jim said, as he felt another turd escape out his ass, though it just got caught in the mess the last one made, leaving his ass covered in shit. “Well, aren’t ya gonna clean it up, or something?”
Gus laughed, “No, you asked for it. But don’t you like how it feels, daddy? The warm shit in your crack, doesn’t it feel good?”
Just as suddenly, Jim felt his dick release a spray of urine, soaking the underside of his gut, and running down the insides of his legs. “Oh Jesus Christ, what have I become? Who am I?”
“Hush now,” Billy said, “You’re our daddy, that’s all you need to know.”
“No. No, I was someone else. Who was I? What did you do to me?” Jim said, slowly backing away from the two of them. However, before he could get very far, the two of them sprang on him, and dragged him back in front of the fire, where he closed his eyes tight, to avoid looking at the burning flames. However, Billy pulled his eyes open, and as soon as he caught sight of the dancing reds and oranges, Jim’s mouth went slack, and he forgot what had been so urgent only moments ago.
“Now daddy, what are you still hiding from me?”
“I don’t want to be a dirty hick,” Jim said, and it was true, but Gus just shook his head.
“But you asked to be our daddy. You asked to be dirty. This is what you wanted.”
“It was?”
“Of course it was. I wouldn’t do anything to you that you didn’t want.”
“But, then why do I still hate this?”
“Let’s do this daddy. Why don’t you take that part of you that hates being our daddy, and put it in your hands, and now wad it up.”
Jim did as he was told, and when he looked down at his hands, he saw a collection of things that he all seemed to remember, but not very clearly. They looked important.
“Now throw them in the fire,” Gus said, but Jim didn’t move, “Throw them!” he said again, and, almost as though it was a reflex, Jim threw it into the fire, and felt part of him scream and die, and a second later, he shit himself again, this time thrilled at the fact that he couldn’t stop it if he wanted to.
“Feel better daddy?” Billy asked.
“Sure as fuck do boys, now how about you give your daddy’s shitty ass a good fuck?”

Continued from here:

Of course, not every convergence is beneficial, or so extreme. Others are more like seeping pools of corruption which leave a bit of slime on everything which passes through them. There is, for example, a public toilet in London, which never seems to get cleaned–the seats of the toilets crusty, the urinals reeking and brimming with cold piss. Every man who enters leaves a bit raunchier than they were. Sometimes it’s just a piercing, or a new fondness for dirty underwear. Others emerge from the toilet unsure of how much time has passed, and almost unable to recognize themselves in the cracked and splattered mirror.

Some men, however, grow addicted to the place–to the filth it spews. After their first visits, they find themselves longing to return, over and over again. They are the only ones who clean it–lapping the urine from it’s bowls and chipping away at the filthy floor with their teeth. Before too long, they begin to melt into the walls, giving the place more power–becoming tiles, sinks–even new toilets and urinals for the growing morass which might one day consume London, if it grows unhindered.

Unsuited

Commissioned by Humilisub2

***

“Just consider it an early retirement.”

“Early retirement? What retirement? Everything–all of my savings in wrapped up in this company–in my pension!” the older man shouted in Andrew’s face, who just sat there calmly in his posh desk chair.

“Oh–you were grandfathered into that? I didn’t think anyone here had those anymore. I’m sure you’ll be able to convert some of it into a 401k–”

“Fuck you and your 401ks! I’m sixty two, and you’re just going to fire me? After all these years cleaning your fucking toilets and emptying your trash?”

“It wasn’t my decision, sir. You’ll find some way, I’m sure. Now–I need you to wait outside–security will be by shortly to escort you out.”

The older man stormed to the door, face red, shouting, “You fucking suits–you don’t fucking get it. Ruining people’s lives for the fun of it–as if you’ve ever worked a day in your life. It probably gets you fucking off!” and then slammed the door shut behind him.

Andrew smirked and gave his cock a squeeze. It was a bit hard–fancy that. Maybe he did enjoy this. The company had been thick with layoffs this quarter, in an effort to cut costs and make their lackluster earnings look a bit nicer, and while some people in his position might hate this part–Andrew relished it.

Of course he’d known Bill, the old janitor, had had a pension with the company–that was one of the primary reasons Andrew had been told to fire him. Besides, the guy was sixty-two, and barely got much cleaning done anymore. He could hire two Mexicans for half the payroll to do four times the work the old bastard was putting out. He heard a ruckus outside his door–security arriving–and the din disappeared down the hall. Andrew shuffled Bill’s discharge papers around on his desk, and checked the clock–4:30, almost the end of the day–and figured it could wait until the morning, giving him a chance to sneak out early for an afternoon round of golf. He spent fifteen minutes or so getting his things together and answering one last round of emails, and then realized that he had to take a piss.

He set off down the hall, into the restroom, and headed for the urinal, but as he was getting ready to unbutton and unzip his pants, he caught a strange aroma on the air–smoke. It was almost sweet, but also a little dank–definitely was some sort of tobacco, probably a cigar. He’d certainly been to plenty of smoky poker games with executives, but had never partaken himself. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice his cock release his piss into the front of his pants, down both of his legs where it pooled in his almost new leather shoes. “Sh–Shit!” he cried, trying to stop his flow, but there was nothing he could do, as the puddle of urine around him spread wider, the smoke growing thicker in the room, giving him a headache, and making his stomach knot. He’d never felt like that around cigars before–but he could barely walk straight. He tried to get to the door, to get out, but all he could manage was to slump up against the sinks in pain and nausea.

It was difficult to see himself in the mirror, between his double vision and the growing cloud of haze in the room, but he looked–odd. There was something wrong with his face…no, there was something growing on his face. He reached up with a hand and felt a beard filling in all across his chin, as his hair started pulling back, making him look ten years older than he was, but other things were wrong too. His clothes felt so tight and constrictive all of a sudden, and he started clawing at his tailored suit but it was too late. The fabric began tearing apart at the seams, buttons flying away across the room. When he got the clothes off of him, all that remained were tatters. Looking down at his naked body, he saw that he was growing a large gut covered with hair. He had to stop this–it had to be the smoke, it had to. He started busting into the stalls, finding them empty until the final handicapped stall, where he found a muscular young man, pants off, grinning around a smouldering cigar.

“I was wondering when you’d find your way in here, asshole,” the man said, stroking his dick, and as he took a big inhale off his cigar, Andrew watched as the man’s cock started to grow, increasing in length and girth with every pull, soon passing nine, then ten inches in length. Andrew’s gaze was locked on it, his now bare feet stumbling forward until he fell to his knees and began licking up and down the massive shaft.

“Yeah, you like that big dick, don’t ya?” the man said, grabbing the hair remaining on Andrew’s head and slamming the massive cock down his throat making him gag, “If you like it so much, why don’t you choke on it?” Andrew did his best to oblige him, and after a few minutes was rewarded with a blast of cum shot acros his now heavily bearded face. Andrew gasped for a second, trying to catch his breath, as the man got up, shoved his face down into the toilet with his booted foot, and started pissing all over the back of his head, the stream running down his face and over his eyes and mouth, and the man left, without another word, leaving Andrew soaked and still trying to digest the suddenness of the assault.

The smoke was clearing as the fans worked the room, and Andrew felt some clarity return to him, enough to cough and sputter on the ground, staring down at his changed body and wondering what in the world had happened to him. He heard the door to the bathroom open, as some of his co-workers came in, and he quickly locked the stall door shut, realizing it wouldn’t be good to be found naked in the bathroom. Checking under the partitions, he didn’t see any of his clothes–the smoking man must have taken them as he’d left. Andrew was essentially trapped–he couldn’t go out like this. Perhaps luckily, he’d just fired the janitor, so he’d be safe as the floor emptied for the night. Maybe then he’d be able to sneak out.

The next few hours didn’t pass quickly, and Andrew found his new body had some…unhealthy fascinations. He was so horny now, but he could only get hard when he was smelling or drinking piss. He couldn’t resist lapping up his own mess from the floor, followed by the spunk he shot doing so, and then he cleaned all of the urinals for good measure. The entire time, he tried to stop, telling himself this was wrong, but his body was running on autopilot. His brain kept saying that he needed to do this. He felt guilty, but for what, he didn’t know, and this was almost some sort of…penance. 

He didn’t notice the door open as a pile of clothing that was dropped on the floor with a note telling him to get dressed and come down to the shipping bays. What he did notice was the smell–the same smoke from earlier permeated everything, and Andrew felt himself slip back into the fog from before, dressing himself in the dirty jeans, boots and cap (there wasn’t a shirt) and followed the scent of smoke all the way down to the back of the building, where he found the same man smoking what looked like the same cigar, though it looked no shorter.

“Who–Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?” Andrew said, his voice sounding strange, so deep and slurred.

The man didn’t say anything immediately–he just dropped his pants and as soon as Andrew laid eyes on his huge dick again, he got down and started sucking it, helpless. After a chuckle, the man finally spoke:

“Me? My name’s Dustin Leaver–you might recognize the last name, since you fired my dad last week. A year before retirement even. Well, when I heard about all the layoffs you’ve been making, I got to thinking that you weren’t suited for your job, so I’m helping you find a new one.

“Now, these cigars are nice, but I think I’ve reached the limit of what I can do to you–I think you’re going to have to do the rest yourself. See, you know you’ve done wrong–I can tell. You know you deserve punishment for the suffering you’ve caused. So I’m gonna give you this cigar, and you’re gonna smoke it, and we’re just gonna see what happens. How does that sound? Because I haven’t done anything to you–this is all you, and I can’t wait to see what happens when you get a good dose of this smoke. Though thanks for the big dick, I wasn’t expecting to get anything out of this. I bet it’ll feel damn good up your ass once you’re all finished.”

Andrew didn’t understand anything that Dustin had said, but he let out a moan of dismay when the cock was pulled from his mouth. The younger man hauled him up to his feet and shoved the cigar between his teeth, forcing Andrew to take a deep drag of smoke deep into himself…and then he understood–he understood all of it. He’d done bad things–horrible things to people. Destroyed lives, ruined retirements, all for the sake of making more money. He needed to be punished–and bad. He felt a quiver in his dirty jeans and pulled out his cock, finding it rapidly shrinking to less than an inch long, as his balls swelled up. There was a sharp pain as metal appeared in his cock and both nipples, but he deserved more–so much more.

He pulled in more smoke, fueling his own latent guilt, feeling his gut balloon out even further into a ball which slowly softened and sagged down over his crotch, a thick layer of gunt absorbing his new nub of a cock. The fur on his body thickened and started losing color, becoming a dingy grey, his beard growing out until it rested on his new moobs, his hair receding back to a wispy fringe of long, greasy hairs. Tattoos blossomed on his body, images of filthy sex acts and degrading names, more piercings springing from his flesh in his ears and face, making him look like a freak. As a final tough, his big balls descended, the sack stretching until it reached his knees, the flesh in between a riot of metal rings and studs. He’d never be able to wear underwear again, and he’d have to keep his balls dangling down one of his pant legs, crushing them with every stride. The cigar in his mouth crumbled to ash, and he licked his lips, feeling around his rotten teeth badly chipped by their collisions with his tongue stud. He fell back down onto his knees in front of Dustin, wincing as his balls smacked against the concrete. “Please sir, use me like the filthy whore I am. Punish me, I deserve it.”

“I’d be happy to, bitch–but I have a few friends who’d love to play too. See, I thought we’d throw you a little party, to break you in–and I think you’ve met all of them before. Come on out, guys!” Dustin shouted, and a crowd of men filed into the room, Andrew vaguely recognizing them as a collection of men he’d fired from the company over the last few months–including the janitor he’d fired just hours ago. He serviced them all night long, drinking down their piss and cum, cleaning out their dirty holes while they tortured his balls and ridiculed his miniscule dick. As the night wore on, Andrew felt his old life drifting further and further away, his mind growing feeble and weak to match his new body. When Dustin offered him a new job in the shipping department the next morning, Andrew was overwhelmed with thanks. He didn’t deserve such kindness, not that he got much of it in his new job.

He was at the bottom of the totem pole now, just a freight worker, but he didn’t do much heavy lifting. He spent most of his days cleaning the bathrooms with his tongue, and chain smoking cigars while he begged the men to use their massive cocks on both his holes. That, it seemed, was his one gift–every dick he saw grew enormous–all the better to rip apart his holes. It was the least he could do. He was far more suited for this position, he knew–and while he wouldn’t say he was happy, he knew it was what he’d earned.

You wake up, and are momentarily hopeful. Please tell me I didn’t do it last night, please… but the cold, wet mattress tells a different story. You wet the bed again. Just like you have for the last two weeks. Every night, you tell yourself you won’t, but nothing helps. Resigned, you get up and go over to the mirror and see what else has changed in the night.

Ever since you started wetting the bed, your body has been changing as well, packing on weight especially, and a few days ago the last of your hair, beard and body hair fell out, leaving you perfectly smooth. Even worse, your cock has been slowly shrinking down to nothing, but no one else has noticed, like this is how you’ve always been.

You still have to go to work though, so you pull on some khakis and a massive shirt which have kept pace with your growth, but the pants are actually a bit roomy in the ass. You don’t think much of it and head for the door, when you find a box on your doorstep.

Wondering if it might be connected to your strange changes, you bring it inside, open it up, and find it packed full of puffy fabric, and a note–“Thought you might start needing these today, little boy,” You separate out one of the garments, and discover, to your disgust, that it’s a diaper.

Who in the hell sent me this, you wonder, and toss the garment back into the box. Suddenly, you feel a rumble in your stomach, and a second later the back of your khakis fills up with a huge load of shit. Your bladder releases as well, wetting the front of your pants with a dark stain. Your cheeks flush red at your complete lack of control, your eyes start to well up, and before you can stop, you’re crying uncontrollably, and the only thing you can think to do is pop your thumb in your mouth and start sucking on it.

Sucking helps calm you down enough to stop your sobbing, waddle into the bathroom, strip, clean yourself off, throw away your clothes, and then return to the living room. With trepidation, you take a diaper and pull it up around your groin, and arousal overcomes you. With your thumb back in your mouth, you rub your tiny cock through the fabric until you shoot a massive wad of cum into the absorbent pad.

When you try to change out of the now soiled diaper, you can’t figure out how to take it off–and being an hour late for work, you just pull on a new pair of slacks and leave, thumb still in your mouth. You worry that if you piss or shit yourself, you might be carrying it around for the whole day, but who knows? Maybe tomorrow will be better–but probably not.

Fairytale – Part 2

***WARNING***

This story contains heavy raunch and watersports. Don’t be a pussy–just fucking enjoy it.

*************

“There you are,” Jeff said, as Harry squeezed past him and back into his seat, “I was wondering if you fell in or…” His voice trailed off, as he got a better sense of the filthy man taking the seat next to him–and the stench rolling off him, and he had a strange sensation that this wasn’t the man he’d agreed to go out with…or was it? His momentary unease didn’t seem to have any basis in his memory–it was the same filthy, incredibly hairy, obese slob who he watched stuff himself silly at dinner…wasn’t it? Why in the hell had he agreed to this date in the first place? This guy was disgusting.

Harry could see the confusion in Jeff’s eyes in the dim light from the screen, and he grinned. Just like the Fairy Grungefather had written, Jeff had no idea that he’d changed so much in the last half hour. “Here boy,” he said handing Jeff a large soda, “I got you another drink, after I plowed through the last one.”

“Oh…uh, thanks,” Jeff said, and took a drink, still unable to figure out why in the world he was out with this disgusting man. Harry could sense his rising disgust, but he already had the first of the three spells from the fairy in his mind, and he mumbled the chant under his breath. The spell would make his chosen target irresistibly attracted to filth, and hopelessly subservient to any man dirtier than him, though, as a twist, as the subject becomes dirty himself he will, in turn, become more and more dominant. However, Jeff was so clean right now, Harry wasn’t too worried about that just yet. He felt the power in his words burn his lips slightly as the spell wrapped its way around Jeff, and to give it a test, he reached out and put his arm around Jeff’s shoulders and pulled him close, his face dangerously close to his disgustingly ripe pit.

Jeff felt the spell hit him, but had no idea of what to make of it. He was happy when the wave of nausea he’d felt in Harry’s presence dissipated, but when it was replaced by an equal, and very forceful attraction, he tried to resist, but the spell was too strong. Suddenly, his memories of this giant slob from the past few hours were ones of giddy excitement at the other man’s filthy body. How he’d sat, agape, watching the man stuff himself at dinner, Jeff’s cock rock hard the whole time. How he’d kept trying to catch whiffs of Harry’s musk on the way to the theater. The stench of his armpit played into his new, deep fantasies, and he leaned in closer, taking a deep sniff, getting close enough for the hairs to graze his nose.

When Harry’s hand contracted and shoved him into it, he struggled with him out of reflex more than anything else. “Shush boy,” Harry said, “I know you’ve been wanting this all night, so here’s your chance–now lick it good and clean, like I know you want to.” He did. He really did want to, so he buried his face in and started licking at the funk, inhaling deep and feeling Harry’s belly jiggle as he chuckled. “Yeah, that’s it.” Harry continued, “Doesn’t that taste like heaven? Go on boy, take out your cock–show me how turned on that nasty funk has gotten you. Here, I’ll take out mine too.” Harry dug around in his camo shorts, pulling out his five inch, thick cock with ample, cheesy foreskin, and without removing his face from Harry’s pit, Jeff did the same, pulling out his eight inch, rock hard cock, which he started milking.

Now Harry didn’t begrudge his date his big cock, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous–and given how submissive Jeff would be for the moment–at least until Harry had him good and filthy–he figured this might be a good time to try out another spell of the Fairy Grungefather’s. Until dawn, the fairy had granted Harry the power to trade physical attributes with any man he was touching–and Jeff’s tongue and face against his pit certainly counted as touching. Harry concentrated, and watched as Jeff’s cock started shrinking in his hand, growing tinier and tinier until it was barely an inch long, and Harry was suddenly grasping a foot long monster cock thicker than a beer can. He decided to take what he could from Jeff’s balls as well, and soon he had an orange resting below his huge member, leaving Jeff with almost no manhood at all.

“Fuck boy, is that all you got to work with? Here, play with mine, and find out what a real cock feels like,” Harry said, and guided Jeff’s hand away from his miniscule cock onto his, both of them trying to suppress groans in the sparsely occupied theater. Jeff was in heaven–he hated his small cock, but given how much he loved bottoming for filthy men, he didn’t mind too much–especially when he was on a date with a monster like Harry. Jeff could barely contain himself, when he felt his tiny cock suddenly start leaking precum uncontrollably. He’d never been much of a leaker, what with his tiny balls, but now–he already could feel it running down the sides of his cock and onto his boxers.

Of course, Jeff didn’t know that his sudden leakage was the result of another one of the fairy’s spells. Harry had been given the ability to control the quantity of any kind of fluid excreted by any man he wanted–and there were all sorts of fluids Harry felt like toying with. He was going to make Jeff leak precum spontaneously for as long as he wanted him to–he hoped he would have a stinking wet spot on his crotch by the end of the film. Jeff’s attention didn’t stay on his cock for long, as he went back to admiring Jeff’s huge, nasty cock, and he felt Harry hand start guiding his face down into his crotch. “Go on boy, suck it–I want to feel that nasty shaft buried down your throat–and make sure you get all that cheese under my foreskin–I know that will drive you wild…”

Jeff struggled for a moment as he resisted the multitude of changes in the world around him, but the fairy’s magic shut him down at every turn. He knew this wasn’t what he wanted, that his cock wasn’t supposed to be an inch long straw leaking precum like a faucet, but for some reason he couldn’t do anything about it, and the more time passed, the more he just felt crazy. And he did want that cock, and that cheesy foreskin. When Harry’s hand pushed him down, he didn’t resist, and swallowed as much of the cock as he could, though he could take more than he’d expected, thanks to the small boost in jaw flexibility and throat size Harry gave him. In fact, he could take it all the way to the hilt without gagging once.

In the dim light, Harry watched the boy work, and decided that there needed to be a few more swaps here and there–just for some added fun. Never in his life had Harry ever had the chance to be muscular, and he’d always wondered what it would be like–so he gave Jeff a large percentage of his own body fat, while removing as much muscle as he could without endangering him. Jeff himself was already a bit chunky, but he had to keep adjusting his position as his gut grew out, his chins expanded, and his gunt swallowed his tiny cock whole. Harry was a bit worried, when he realized his planned change would make Jeff grow out of his clothes, but they seemed to expand with him–his button down shirt expanding to fit his massive gut, his khakis doubling in size to match Jeff’s wide ass and thighs.

Harry himself felt the fat melt off of him, as his body showed off muscles he’d never seen. Neither he nor Jeff had been particularly muscled, but between the two of them, Harry had managed to pick up enough to look like a decent hunk, with well defined pecs, ridged abs and thick arms, not to mention it showed off his cock really damn well, and gave him a great view of Jeff’s fat face chowing down on his filthy cock, but Harry still felt really old, with his greying hair. He decided that if Jeff was going to hold onto his fat for a while, he could hold onto some of Harry’s years as well. He decided to drop back to the age of twenty one, which would give Jeff close to thirty years, bringing him up to the ripe old age of fifty six.

He watched as his beard and hair suddenly lightened, and his new muscles suddenly filled with a new, remarkable vigor. He felt amazing, and his cock! He was so horny it took all of his effort to not cum the next time Jeff deep throated him. Looking down in the dim light, he could see that Jeff had grown up just as quickly–his hair receding back, face lined with wrinkles, and the blow job was starting to wind him. Harry decided to give Jeff a bit off his own beard, and also took Jeff’s hair, leaving him with an inch long beard and a perfectly smooth, bald head, Harry’s own hair growing a bit longer past his shoulders. To finish Jeff’s transformation into an old, chubby bear, Harry reluctantly sacrificed most of his thick pelt, watching it sprout all over Jeff’s new fatty rolls instead. Watching the bearded old man suck his cock was too much, and Harry unloaded down Jeff’s throat, cumming harder than he had in years–though that didn’t make sense. He was just twenty one after all, every cum shot felt like that.

He saw Jeff swallowing his cum eagerly, and when the flow stopped, Jeff started to come off the cock, but with one hand Harry pushed him back down and a second later, Jeff’s mouth was flooded with piss. He’d never tasted anything so rank, and he choked a bit at first, getting some on Harry’s clothes and on his new beard, but he caught onto the rhythm and was soon drinking that down just as eagerly, his new love of filth urging him on, not to mention his attraction to the hot, muscular redneck who he still couldn’t believe had agreed to go out on a date with a fat geezer like himself. After he finished pissing, Harry finally allowed Jeff up, but only after he’d sucked whatever piss he could get from the front of his shorts, and then let Harry lick the piss from his beard, and Harry decided it was time for Jeff to start getting dirtier.

While they made out, one of Harry’s hands snaked down under Jeff’s massive gut, and found the sticky mess of precum his earlier spell had generated, and he started feeding it to Jeff on his fingers, Jeff happily sucking the filth off them as well. Harry also wanted Jeff to start getting musky, so he used his spell to kick Harry’s sweat production into high gear. Beads started dotting Jeff’s suddenly red face, and sweat stains started formed under his armpits. Harry wanted to get in the middle of it, so he worked his head under Jeff’s sweaty gut and into his humid crotch, rubbing his face in the cum and sweat, listening to Jeff’s muffled groans as he licked away at his tiny cock. Harry must have lost track of time in there, because he was caught off guard by Jeff hauling him out by the back of his shirt, back into the fully lighted theater.

In the sudden light, Harry was struck by how much he had changed Jeff in the dark theater. Where a young cub had sat when the movie started, there was now an elderly, obese bear, dressed in a shirt and tie with a nicely trimmed grey beard and completely bald head–thought the shirt was nearly soaked through with ripe sweat. Harry couldn’t see himself, but he could sense from how Jeff was looking back at him that he was a fine piece of muscular redneck, though maybe it was just his funk making Jeff look at him like that–not that it mattered. They saw the ushers come into the theater, and Jeff said in a deep voice, “well young man, what say you and I zip up and skedaddle?”

“Oh, yeah, sure thing,” Harry said, tucked his cock back into his tight camo shorts and helped Jeff stand up, and together they made their way out of the theater, Harry flaunting his shorts damp with piss and the muscles stretching against his sleeveless tee, and enjoying the stench of cum and sweat rolling off Jeff next to him. Harry felt sexier, and hornier, than he’d ever felt before, and the night was still young. Jeff and him had plenty more to do before dawn, and he hadn’t even tried all of the fairy’s spells yet. Things were only going to get hotter, and filthier, from here on out.

“Come on son, please let me take these off? I’ve been pissing through them for weeks now, they’re vile.”

“Dad, at least be thankful that I let you cut a whole in the back so you haven’t been storing your shit that long too.”

“Yeah, but you don’t even let me wipe! I…I think the guys at work can smell them through my clothes.”

“Are you sure they aren’t just smelling you? I mean, you haven’t showered in ten days? I mean, have you smelled those pits of yours? No, go on dad, smell them, tell me what you think of them.”

“No, please…oh fuck, it’s so fucking nasty…I think I’m gonna–”

“Don’t throw up, you fucking pussy. Besides, it’s growing on you now, isn’t it? You enjoy your stench, judging by how your cock is tenting out your filthy underwear.”

“Please…Please don’t, I’m your father! Don’t touch me there!”

“Shut up and smell your pits, pig! Smell ‘em and enjoy them. Here, you want to take these shorts off? Here, I’ll take them off for you…damn dad, these are rank–God, I love the smell of pissy shorts. Here, you smell them, get your nose right in there and don’t fucking stop.”

“Son, please–”

“Shut up bitch, and focus on the smell, focus on how filthy and rank it is, focus on how hard that stench is making your cock in my hand–your son’s hand no less, you pervert. Yeah, look at yourself in that mirror, unwashed body, your nose buried in your own piss sodden underwear, your son jacking your rock hard cock…you’re gonna cum, aren’t you? You can’t stop it, because all of this is making you so turned on you can’t fucking help yourself!”

“Oh for the love of God, please! Please don’t–oh…Oh! god…damn it…”

“Now wipe up that seed with them and now you’re gonna suck it out…yeah bitch, get it in that hole of yours and suck–aww, is the faggot gonna cry now? Don’t cry dad, this is how men enjoy themselves, this is how we bond. Don’t be a fucking pussy about it…Now take ’em out and put them on backwards.”

“Backwards? But…”

“Talking about you storing up a few loads of shit in those was just too hot to resist, but don’t worry, at least you’ll be able to reach your cock, because from now on, you’re gonna be pissing up and all over your clothes, and whenever you drop a load of shit in those shorts, you’re gonna jack off and love it–oh quit your fucking blubbering! You’re the one who wanted more father-son bonding time! I can’t help it if I only like bonding with dirty, filthy pigs like you’re gonna be.