Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 8)

“What do you want, pup?”

What…did he want? He knew what he had wanted, before. To…escape, to find a way to get Angus back, but he was so tired, so tired of fighting. It would be so much easier if he just gave in, gave in and was a good boy, a good pup, the…the dirty little pup Master wanted him to be. But is that what he wanted too? He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know if he should even…want things himself. What did Master want? He knew what Master wanted, though, and…and he could feel himself wanting it too, more and more. “I…I wanna sniff your holes, and Dingo’s, and lick your boots and your paws, sir, I…I wanna be your…your dirty pup.”

“Really? Because a little while ago, you didn’t seem to want that at all. I don’t know if I really believe you, pup.”

That…seemed so long ago now, somehow, even though Chance knew it had been less than an hour. It was another lifetime, another person altogether, maybe. “I know I said that, but I…I was wrong, I want to be a good boy, I want to be your dirty pup master.”

“My dirty, little pup, you mean,” Geoff said, took the end of Chance’s collar and tightened it another notch, and Chance felt his stomach twist, he shrank again. He tried to pull away again, but Geoff kept his grip on the collar, and he could feel it tightening again, and almost to another notch, and he froze.

“Please, I don’t want to be smaller, please sir, I’m sorry…”

“No? You don’t want to be a little pup? So small I could pin you to the ground with my paw, feel you squirming between my toes?” Geoff tugged lightly, and another notch slipped, and Chance reduced again, now only about four feet tall, and he could feel the badger tugging the collar tightening, and he whimpered again. “Get on your knees.”

Chance hadn’t realized he was standing, and when he got down, the disparity in size was even more apparent, and he realized, also…very hot, seeing his Master looming over him like this. Geoff put one huge boot on his thigh, and that was enough to make his dog cock slip free of his sheath again, and start to leak.

“Looks like someone is excited by the idea of being this small. Such a naughty little doggy. You know, a naughty pup like you needs a naughty name, don’t you think? How about…Demon? A little devil like you.”

When Geoff said the name, Chance felt it searing itself into his mind, somehow, warping his own image of himself. The human in him slipped even further away, fading, and he could…see himself, a different version of himself. A small, chubby dog, tongue lolling out, only a couple feet tall, waddling after his Master, wondering when he’d get the chance to taste his paws again, or his boots, or his cock, if he was a very good boy. And Demon…Demon could be naughty yes, but he wanted to be good, so good, and he knew he could, he could be so good if he just…just did as Master wanted. The collar tightened again, slipping closed another notch, and he shrank a few more inches, watching his Master rise up over him even further as he shrank down, and…and he let out a whine, his cock springing up and leaking a bit at the sight.

“You do like it, don’t you boy? I want to hear you say it.”

Demon shook his head, trying to deny it, but the badger tightened it again, the sudden vertigo in his gut telling him he was shrinking even further.

“I know you like it, pup,” Geoff said, “but what really matters anyway is that I like it. I like the idea of you being a sniveling little pup, too small to be good for anything really, small enough that I could crush you under me feet–but I think that you do want it, don’t you boy? Doesn’t the idea of being small enough that I can pick you up by the scruff of your fat neck, or by your fuzzy tail, carry you around, do whatever I want to you–doesn’t that just excite the hell out of you?”

Demon heard something thumping behind him, but it wasn’t until Geoff stopped talking that he realized it was the sound of his tail wagging, and thumping against the floor behind him.

“Naughty pups like you might lie to me, but your tails always tell the truth, pup. You want to be small. You deserve to be small, for being so naughty, you deserve to be punished, don’t you?”

He tugged again, slipping the collar down another notch, and this time, Demon couldn’t resist it anymore. “Yes sir, I do…I deserve to be a tiny pup sir, I love it, I…”

“Unlace my boots, Demon,” Geoff said, sneering down at him.

He did so, and pulled the boot off, and the sock. He could smell the badger’s paw from where he was, and he felt drool pouring out of his snout, his cock even harder, if that was possible.

“You want Master’s paw, boy?”

“Yes sir, please let me lick your dirty paws.”

“What’s your name pup? Tell me your name, and I’ll let you taste them.”

He whined again. He knew the right answer of course, but it was also the most dangerous answer. It wasn’t the answer it should be…but it was the answer he wanted, all the same. “Demon. I’m your dirty little pup, Demon, your naughty pup, please sir! Please can I taste them?”

“Alright, go ahead pup, you’ve been good enough.”

Holiday Curses – Thanksgiving (Part 3)

Isaac had always been around when Mark was growing up–but he had never really been as direct a tormentor as his two brothers or his father. No, what Mark resented about Isaac was that, as far as his father was concerned, Isaac was the third son he should have had–he was everything that he had wanted for Mark, but which Mark had been too faggoty to get for himself. A start football player, all the way through college, though he leveraged that into a career running a local gym rather than keep playing and trying to go pro.

Mark hated him for that–not because of his success, or because his father loved Isaac more than him, but because he looked…fucking perfect. He always had a great body and physique, despite the fact that all his youth, Isaac ate like a total pig and glutton. It had never slowed him down though, not once, and while he ate better now that he was older, he still…had that in him, that gluttony that no one else could see. Well, Mark was going to make sure everyone saw it from now on.

He didn’t lead Isaac into a bedroom, but rather into the kitchen, where he ordered his cousin to strip out of his clothes. Meanwhile, Isaac pulled a paint can out of his bag as well as a brush, and popped off the top. It had taken a few tries to get this one right, when he’d been working on it with his boyfriend, but he was quite happy with the result of the imago curse. It wouldn’t need a circle and a spell like with his brother–this solution, once painted all over Isaac’s body, would take care of everything.

Once Isaac was naked, Mark began the process of applying the solution onto his body from the head down. It was thick, but went on clear and even. Isaac tried to ask him what this was, but Mark didn’t reply–so he just allowed him to apply it, moving his body so he could get everywhere with the stuff, even the soles of his feet and between the cheeks of his ass.The stuff was clear, but had an odd sheen to it. I stayed wet the entire time Mark was applying it, until he had successfully covered everywhere on Isaac’s body. Then, all at once, he felt the paint harden and also constrict, binding to his skin, or fusing with it. He scratched at his body, trying to get it off, but it was…gone. It was just him, and his own skin, but something was different, something was wrong with him.

“There we go Isaac, you’ll be a brand new man soon, trust me. Man, look at all this food my mom made for Thanksgiving–it sure would be a shame to waste it. Remember how much you used to eat when we were kids, Isaac? Hell, even my brothers thought you were a pig behind your back. Why don’t you dig in, see what you can do?”

Isaac…was hungry, and Thanksgiving was the one day a year he considered a true cheat day, when he could officially eat as much as he wanted, no matter the consequence. He went over to one of the ovens, where the sides were being held warm, hauled out the mashed potatoes, grabbed a spoon and started eating, and eating, and eating. There was something wrong with him, something inside him, gurgling and grumbling about. Mark urged him on, compelling him to eat faster, to enjoy it. He’d always loved food after all, probably more than he’d ever really loved a person.

This carried on for an hour, until he heard the first sickening tear in his own flesh. It didn’t hurt, surprisingly, the massive gash in his flat abs, and there was no blood…just…more flesh underneath it. He panicked, but Mark drove him further, now that he was so close, stuffing him himself, opening the tear, hearing others forming all over his body until at last, the outer layer of Isaac gave way, breaking apart as a new Issac burst forth. A much, much larger Isaac than before.

His entire body was…new, like it had burst from a cocoon. It wasn’t that different really, he still felt, and looked, like himself…but he was so much fatter now. He had a sizable gut, much larger than he’d ever allowed himself during the offseason, sporting a physique more of a linebacker than a running back…but wasn’t that right? There were new memories overwhelming the others, years spent running defense rather than offense, years spent in more gluttony than before…loving food. Really loving it. The new Isaac dug into the meal with new fervor, and Mark knew the rest would take care of itself–once he saw Isaac use a gravy slathered hand to start massaging his cock and balls to stiffness.

It had taken a little longer than he’d hoped to deal with Issac, and he checked on John quickly, but while his older brother was exhausted, he hadn’t stopped for a second reveling in his new addictions, cementing them firmly in his mind where they belonged. Now, just his second older brother, Luke, and his uncle and father remained. Luke’s curse would be quick, at least. The middle child, Luke had been the real evil in the family. John might have been the brawn, but Luke was the brains, whispering ideas to him and Isaac, new ways to humiliate and hurt him. Well, now it was Mark’s turn to whisper a few commandments into his brother’s ear. He had control of them all, for the moment, of course, but this curse was more lasting. The commands he gave his brother would be unbreakable, no matter what.

Like some of the other polls I run, this one will have multiple winners! Luke will probably end up with a new job of some sort, as well as a few humiliating changes to his daily routines.

Finds a new job at a fast food joint
Finds a new job as a trash collector
Finds a new job as a full time sex slave
Starts wearing diapers
No longer showers or cuts his hair
Posts humiliating videos online
Gets trashy tattoos and piercings
Locks himself in full time chastity
Sucks redneck cock at rural rest areas

Here’s the public poll

Here’s the patron only poll

Votes will be counted in a couple days!

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 6)

Geoff eventually pushed Chance’s maw away from his cock, looked down at his happy face, eyes glazed over slightly, icing all over his face from his snacks, and stood up, telling Chance to follow him. They went into the bathroom and Geoff told Chance to stand in front of the mirror and look at himself, and what he saw…it was enough of a shock to break through the pleasant numbness that his mind and settled into over the last hour or so. The collar was having a substantial effect on him already–his face and head had shifted quite a bit, which explained why sucking the badger’s cock had felt so…odd, and why his tongue had been able to reach so many different places, while he was sucking. Fur was filling in, his brunette hair running down onto his neck and upper back, while the hair he had on his chest had lightened to a golden tan, and was coming in thicker.

“I guess someone wants to be a police dog after all,” Geoff said, giving Chance a scritch between his ears, which were somewhere between human, and growing and shifting upward into proper dog ones, “Looks like you’re going to be a pure german shepherd–that make you happy pup? Thinking about chasing down bad guys? Well, not chasing really, because look at that gut you’re packing already–you’ll probably have to be on desk duty, if you keep binging like that.”

The badger was right–he had gained weight. A lot of weight. He had always been a bit chubby, but his gut was now quite a bit larger, and hanging down over his waist, making it impossible to see his cock–the cock, he realized, that was rock hard. It had been rock hard this whole time, in fact, and he reached under to feel it, and was surprised by how…wet it felt. He repositioned himself in the mirror and hefted up his gut to get a better look, and sure enough, it wasn’t a human cock anymore. A sheath had grown up over it, and was covered with the same golden hair as the rest of his front, and a slick red cock was jutting from it, drooling slightly in excitement.

“Looks like you got a bit excited, pup. Hey Dingo! Get your fat ass in here.”

There was a grunt, and then Dingo appeared in the doorway. “Yes sir?”

“Get down and show this pup what a good cocksucker you are–I bet you’d appreciate that, wouldn’t you? Getting a blowjob from your husband? Well, not really your husband, since he’s mine now, but if you’re good, I might let you two visit each other from time to time.”

The anger flashed in Chance’s mind again, pushing away to numbness the collar had been laying over his mind. When Dingo got down and started sucking, it threatened to overwhelm him again, but he pushed back–if he didn’t do something now, he wasn’t going to have the will to do anything about it soon enough.

“What’s wrong, pup? I think Dingo has a pretty good snout on him, but you look like you aren’t even enjoying yourself.”

It took everything in him that he could muster, but he shoved Dingo off of his cock, spun around, and delivered a swift kick right into the badger’s crotch. It caught him completely off guard, and he dropped to the floor, giving Chance a chance to dash out of the bathroom. He made it only a few yards before he heard–and felt–heavy foot falls behind him. Dingo was chasing him, barking his head off at him, slobber flying, and at his shorter stature and much heavier weight, Chance had no hope of outrunning him. Dingo tackled him to the floor in the hall, sending them both crashing to the ground, and the impact knocked the wind from Chance’s lungs.

Pinning him there, Dingo kept barking, calling to his master, while Chance tried to shout back at him, plead with him to remember, to escape with him, to get the damn collars off their neck while they still could, but it was clear that Dingo–if he was even listening–didn’t care one whit what Chance might have to say. After a few seconds, Geoff appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, growling, and Dingo stopped barking and started wagging his tail. “I got ‘em Master! I got ‘em for you!”

“Good boy, Dingo–now stay on him,” Geoff said, and got down beside Chance, who was still trying to worm his way out from under Dingo’s massive bulk, but having no success. “That was a very bad pup. I’ll have you know, that I consider that to be an automatic failure on your exam here–I’m afraid I can’t have a disobedient animal on the force with me–it just isn’t safe–for me, or the citizens of this fair city.”

“Fuck you!” Chance shouted at him, with as much will as he could muster, “I don’t give a fuck, I’ll fucking fight you as best I can, no matter what! Angus, you have to snap out of this, please, I know you’re still in there, you have to be.”

“Oh? Is there anything left of him in there, Dingo? Do you feel bad about what you’re doing to Chance here?” the badger asked Dingo, and the big lug’s ears fell back slightly, and he gave a little whine.

“A…A little? I want to be a good boy though, so I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“Don’t worry Dingo, you’re being a very good boy–you’re doing everything exactly right.” Geoff said, and gave him a skritch behind his ears, watching his big dog’s tail wag, tongue lolling about in delight, “I figured there would be some–but once this little mutt under you is gone, there won’t be much left to hold him there in his mind anymore. Then you really will be mine–that’s what you want, right?”

“Yes sir! I love being your big stupid doggy!”

Chance gave a growl and redoubled his efforts to worm his way out from under Dingo’s massive frame, and managed to make a little progress, but before he could free himself, he felt the badger’s claws on the end of the collar around his neck. “Now, now, you need to stay put, little doggy,” the badger said, and he tugged the collar, tightening it another notch–and then another still.

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 4)

Above him, Dingo was panting harder, as his pace increased, and Geoff focused on getting Chance out of his clothes, using the knife on his belt to make the process much simpler. After all, this pup wasn’t going to have any need for this sort of office attire, and they were all going to be too big for him anyway, at this point. He was still a bit annoyed that he’d pulled the collar tight when he’d put it on, but as he watched Chance going to town on the much larger Dingo’s cock, he found it pretty sexy, actually. By the end of it, he might even shrink him a little further.

Now that Chance was naked, Geoff squatted down, and he could see that Chance’ cock had already taken to the change–his human member was gone, and in its place was a throbbing red rocket, similar to Dingo’s, but not quite as large. Geoff got down close and started stoking it, listening to Chance whimper a bit as Dingo rammed his cock down his husband’s throat. “Feel that, pup? Feel’s good, doesn’t it? Much better than that old, ugly ass human cock ever did. I don’t even know why we put up with keeping your kind around–still, there will be one less of you soon enough.”

He saw a flash of anger in Chance’ eye as he said that, and Geoff smirked. There was quite a bit of fire in this one for sure. He was going to have to break him out of that one way or another–but most pups like this could respond well to some good old fashioned humiliation. Once they really understood who was in charge here, and just how low Geoff could make them sink, they settled down in the end. “Alright Dingo, that’s enough. I think it’s time we start putting this pup through some paces, see if he’s even worth training or not. Go get the treats out of the car, partner.”

Dingo wasn’t happy about having to quit fucking Chance’ face, especially as close as he was to shooting, but an order from Master was always more important. He redid him fly and headed for the door, leaving Chance gasping for breath, and Geoff next to him, patting him on the head. “You…you can’t get away with this, too many people are going to miss us.”

“Oh pup, trust me, this isn’t the first time I’ve done something like this. But you’d be surprised what people will believe. The two of you selling your house suddenly, moving off to Hawaii for a fresh start–it isn’t that far-fetched you know. Besides, these collars have a way of…smoothing things out, over time. In a few months, no one will even remember the two of you existed.”

“That’s…that’s not possible, none of this shit is possible!” Chance said.

“Now now, keep that anger in check–after all, only the best pups get to end up on the police force, remember. Dingo was a prime candidate, but you…well, let’s just say that I don’t know if you can make the cut. A bit too…short, for one thing. If you want to end up with your husband, instead of dropped off in the drunk tank tonight as a lowlife, criminal mongrel, then you should do your best to be a good boy–besides, doesn’t being a good boy feel so much better, than being a bad one?”

The burst of pleasure was stronger now, and seemed to connect right to his new cock. Chance tried to fight it as best as he could, but he was beginning to wonder if there was a way out of this at all. Angus seemed…so far gone. The way he’d fucked his face…it hadn’t even felt like his husband doing it, just a stranger using him. Maybe…if he could just get the collar off of him, somehow, he would remember what was going on. Chance didn’t know if there was a way to reverse what the collars were doing to them, but that seemed to be the first step, if they were going to get out of this without the badger warping them into his own little slaves.

He heard the front door open up again, and Dingo came tromping through with three boxes of doughnuts in his arms–and one doughnut stuffed in his maw. Geoff saw that Dingo hadn’t been able to resist dipping into the treats they had brought over for Chance’ training, and he got up, “Dingo! Bad boy, those aren’t treats for you, and you know that.”

Dingo whimpered, his ears lowering, and he put the half eaten doughnut back in the top box. “Sorry Master, I was just…hungry, and I know I did a good job, and so I thought–”

“You dumb mutt, we covered this yesterday–who does the thinking around here? You, the dumb dog? Or me, the smart badger.”

“You do the thinking sir, sorry…”

“Leave him alone,” Chance said, at them both, “Stop…stop treating him like he’s some stupid brute, that you get to play with. He’s a fucking person!”

Geoff laughed, “Listen to that pup, Dingo–he thinks you’re a person. Is that what you are?”

“No sir, I’m just a dumb doggy,” Dingo said, tail wagging, reciting what Master had told him about himself the day before, “A real mean one on the streets, but I’m just your fat bitch in the sheets sir, I’ll let you do anything you want to me, and I’ll thank you for it after.”

“That’s a good boy–you can finish that treat–but no more unless I say so.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dingo said, the doughnut muffling the second half of his reply, as he shoved it into his snout.

Police Dogs – Episode 2 (Part 3)

Chance tried to shove the badger away, but the dingo shifted his paws and grabbed Chance by the wrists, allowing Geoff the chance to throw the collar around Chance’ neck, slip it through the buckle and pull it tight. However, Chance pulled away from him while he was about to latch it, and the collar pulled too tight; the buckle cinching his neck uncomfortably for a moment, until it seemed to relax…though everything felt so…strange all of a sudden. Dingo let him go, assuming he would be under control now that the collar was on him, and Chance stumbled slightly, the room a bit…off kilter.

“Now look at what you went and made me do, pup–got the collar on too tight. Oh well, nothing to be done about it, I suppose. Now, are you going to be a good boy for me and officer Dingo here?”

At the words good boy, Chance moaned slightly, and felt his cock tent in the front of his slacks. “I…What the fuck is this thing?” He said, his hands going for the collar, but Geoff grabbed them before they could start testing the latch.

“Now now, good boys leave their collar right where it belongs, don’t they?”

Chance moaned again, and found himself nodding along. It…did feel good, to be a good boy, and if he wanted to be a good boy, the collar needed to stay on…didn’t it? He knew the logic didn’t make any sense, that he should be fighting this, but he nodded anyway. He was going to have to play along with this, if he wanted to get out of this mess–that, and he was going to have to try and get Angus to come to his senses, if he wasn’t already too far gone. He looked at the badger in front of him, and was a bit…confused. Before, he’d been taller than him by quite a few inches, but now, he was…taller? He looked around, over at Angus near them, and found he had to crane his neck up quite a bit to see him. “Did…did you get taller?”

“Nope, you got shorter,” Geoff said, “These collars of mine have quite a few tricks–but it only goes one way. Dingo there–he could get bigger, if I want, but you, since it tightened once, you can only get smaller now. Still, that’s not a bad thing, is it? I don’t think so–the two of you will be kind of cute together on the force, big Dingo and little…well, we don’t have a name for you yet, do we?”

The Badger stroked the side of Chance’ face with one of his claws, and he flinched away–though he felt and doing so, because he knew it would make the badger–Master, his head wanted to call him–mad, but Geoff just laughed. “Yeah, you have some fire in you–more than your sorry husband had–he rolled over for me right away, that one, was begging me for more not two days later. How about…Demon? I think that will be a good name for a fiery guy like you. I can already tell you’re going to be a bad boy. That’s ok–breaking bad pups is more fun anyway. Now, be a good boy, get down on your knees, and suck Dingo’s cock–why don’t you see what your husband has been hiding from you all week? He’s eager to show you now, trust me.”

The badger pressed down on Chance’ shoulders, forcing him to his knees, and Dingo–Angus, Chance had to keep telling himself, reminding himself that his husband was trapped somewhere in that fat dog’s body– bellied up to him, his paws already clawing open the fly of his uniform pants, while his tongue lolled out of his maw, drooling with excitement. Angus had been weird, ever since that traffic stop, and Chance realized that not once had he seen his husband completely naked–something which he would have noticed, if he hadn’t been busy. Now, the cock he was looking at was nothing like Angus’s cock had been, the angry red color, slick from the sheath it had emerged from. He shut his lips tight, fighting against the collar and the badger’s commands as hard as he could, determined not to give into this.

“Now pup, come on, open up,” the badger said, gripping Chance’ jaw in his hand, and squeezing the sides of his mouth until he had to open them. Dingo took advantage of the opening, and forced his cock into Chance’ mouth–it tasted…foul to him, but Dingo and Geoff weren’t about to let Chance off now that he’d opened up. Dingo wrapped both paws around the back of Chance’ head and started fucking him deeper, while the badger got down close, whispering into Chance ear how good it felt to be a good boy, how nice his partner’s cock tasted, how horny he was, being a good, cocksucking pup. As hard as Chance tried to resist it, the words were worming their way into his mind all the same, lulling him, and he fought a bit less, his hands finding their way around Dingo’s thick thighs, pulling the big mutt into him–just a little at first, but then more. He…he wanted his cock. He loved sucking cock, after all. He was…he was a good boy…yeah, a real good boy…

Arctos: Filters – Episode 2 (Part 3)

Jean, on the other hand, felt like things were finally going good for him. No more hanging on crazy guys, or pigs, like Bruce. No more stern silent types, no more wasting time on guys who would never be able to open up to him. He was done. Done trying to fix men who couldn’t even see that they were broken. Done with people who took his goodwill and patience and caring and just threw it back in his face. He was so done–and yet, when a very, very drunk Bruce showed up at his apartment building, squealing for him through the intercom, what in the hell was he supposed to do? The dumb animal was going to wake up all his neighbors, if he kept up that racket–and Jean knew that Bruce could keep up a racket like that for a lot longer than anyone would expect, especially when he was drunk. He had no interest in hearing him out, but if listening to him plead got him to go away faster, then all the better for everyone.

So he let Bruce in, and while he tried to keep the stony heart he’d promised he’d keep for his own sanity, he also couldn’t quite help but listen as the pig begged him for forgiveness. It sounded good, on the surface. It sounded like Bruce had finally come to realize just how much of a mess he was, and that Jean had always only been trying to help him. Or at least, that’s what he wanted to hear, so badly. He wanted someone to take care of, he wanted someone to want him to take care of them. He did know best, really. He knew how to take care of men like Bruce–if only they would just let him help them. Could he really trust him though? This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, this wasn’t the first time someone had opened up, only to shut back down the next day, when the beer wore off, and then the whole thing would begin again. How likely was it, really, that Bruce wanted what Jean was offering? Maybe he was just here because he hated being alone more.

Jean tried to keep his guard up, but he couldn’t. He pulled Bruce into him, and he could…smell the sex and food on him–he could imagine what the big pig had been getting up to in the last few days since they’d broken things off. It was almost enough to push him away again, but Bruce was so…tender, and sweet, and so many other things he’d never allowed himself to be, all of the things Jean was looking for in a man. It was a terrible idea, he knew that. He should have never let him in the building, he should have never even answered the intercom. It was too late for that though, and so, he pulled Bruce into his bedroom, both of them shucking their clothes as they went, and then fucked like they did the first time they hooked up. Through it all, they both wanted to believe that they could be right for one another. They wanted to believe that this was better than being alone, and they thought that if they both believed the lie hard enough, that it might, just maybe, come true.

Bruce thought about it, lying there in Jean’s bed beside him, looking at him, thinking about what he’d have to give up to make this work. Jean would never be willing to accept him–the real him, after all. He knew that. He’d have to change. Clean up. Figure his shit out. Deal with his anger, his binging, his promiscuity. He’d have to learn how to be normal enough for Jean to love, learn to grow into the person Jean wanted him to become…but as hard as he tried to convince himself that he could, that he wanted to at least try, he knew it was a lie. He knew that it a couple of days, it would break him, and they would fight, and everything would fall apart all over again–unless he did it. Unless he made Jean into someone who wanted Bruce to be everything Bruce wanted.

He pulled the covers off him, slowly, making sure to not wake him up. He went out and turned on the hall light, just enough so the camera could take a decent picture of Jean, and then he booted up the app. This was…a terrible idea. He knew it was, and yet, he just couldn’t get it out of his head, no matter how hard he tried to discount it. It was the only way they could be together, be happy together, and stay together. It was the only way that Bruce could get what he really wanted…and maybe…maybe Jean would want it too, in one way or another.

Arctos: Filters – Episode 2 (Part 2)

When he did wake up again, he felt…so much better, aside from the hangover. Everything about his old self, that old Bruce, was just a distant memory now, and in its place, all he could remember was being this massive, sex obsessed pig. It was like everything that had felt so empty before was full now–full of gluttony, and lust, and other base desires, but at least full. So what if Jean didn’t get it? He didn’t need Jean–he could find plenty of other guys around town eager to use him like the sexy hog he was. He got on the various apps he used for hookups, and less than an hour later he had a guy over to his apartment, begging Bruce for his piggy cock, and already it was better than most of the sex he’d ever had with Jean. Once he was finished with the first, he kept inviting men over, and when he couldn’t find anyone, he’d just sit around and masturbate, thinking about how he wouldn’t have to clean up for him, thinking about how he wouldn’t have to deal with Jean wanting to talk about complicated shit, like feelings, or what Bruce wanted in a relationship. He wanted to fuck, right? But then why, as the days wore on, and he continued his constant sexual conquests with men obsessed with his freakish body…did he keep thinking about him, the entire time? Why was he still so damn angry at him? Why did he…still want him, so damn badly?

After a few days, the sex got old, as it always had before. Everyone wanted to see him as this animal, wanted to either treat him like some mindless beast, or be ravaged by him, but none of them really seemed to give two fucks what Bruce wanted. Sure, maybe he did enjoy ravaging, but was this all he was for people? Just some fucking animal? He knew he was more than that, but no one else saw it–Jean was the first person, he realized, who had seen anything about him beyond the surface, and that…that had terrified him, more than anything else in his whole life, more than the bullying he’d suffered at school, more than the looks of disgust he got on the way to work–the notion that someone might actually care had been too much for him to handle in so many different ways, he’d just lashed out and pushed him away, rather than deal with what he was feeling. Everything felt like a jumble, suddenly. As all of his old problems with his life, and with Jean, as a human had begun to fade away, all of his new past life as a pigman was coming into relief–and he was beginning to wonder if he’d made the right decision after all. Jean…might not have been the sexiest guy, but he’d cared about him, and he’d cooked real good food for him, and…and what if he’d just made the biggest mistake of his whole life, without even realizing it at the time?

The depression hit hard, and fast. The sex dropped off, and instead of finding random men to fuck online, Bruce stayed in his apartment, ordering a different takeout every hour, never once stopping until he was certain he was going to burst. He would look at pictures Jean and him had taken together–sometimes as the real Jean, and other times using the filter profiles Bruce had made for him, his fantasy Jean, a Jean…he hoped might be able to understand all of him–the sexy, wild hog, and the person behind the gruff, abrasive act he’d put on for as long as he could recall. He wondered if he’d be willing to give it a try, just once, to see…how it felt for them both. Maybe he’d understand how much Bruce needed this, even if he didn’t like it. Maybe Bruce could finally manage to show him what Jean wanted to see, to explain everything he’d never had any words for at all…but how could he ever even show his face there again, after making such a mess of things? In the end, he got drunk enough that the terrible idea of going back to Jean and begging him to forgive him sounded better than the idea of going on alone. He had to at least try, after all. He’d try, and Jean would shoot him down, and then…and then, maybe, he’d be able to get on with his own life, and put this awful episode behind him once and for all.

Arctos: Filters – Episode 2 (Part 1)

For the next few weeks, he managed to keep the desires better under control, only pigging out on rare occasions, usually after having a bit too much to drink. Each time, he would begin with the package from the last time he changed…but each time he did, it never quite felt like enough, and so he started adding more and more filters to the package he’d been curating for himself. He gave into the snout next, but discovered that it did more than just affect him cosmetically. It was much harder to talk–his mouth just didn’t seem to be designed for human words, and it was so much easier (and so much sexier) to just lay around the house grunting, oinking and squealing his way to orgasm after orgasm. One night, in a drunken haze, he went and added a thick brass ring in his pig nose as well, and the sensation of it tugging down on the end of his snout was so hot, he went and added rings in both of his ears, and in his nipples as well. Out of curiosity one night, he decided to swap out the fat filter he’d been using for one that was even larger–and also decided to make himself a bit taller. The result was him growing to almost seven feet tall, weighing close to 600 pounds, listening to the floor creak underneath him as he lumbered to and fro, snorting, groping for his now slightly too small cock–but he fixed that too, his piggy member growing to almost ten inches long. He found a barnyard musk filter, and soon he was smelling like he’d been rolling around in muddy manure all day long–and the stink turned him on even more, made him long to be in a real puddle–longing for….someone. No matter how much he changed, though, no matter how extreme he pushed himself, something was always missing. He would turn the filters he’d used on Jean’s photo back on, and just scroll through, fantasizing about having a big, butch farmer to fuck his piggy hole, roll him around in the mud, collar him, chain him on all fours, treat him like the animal he deserved to be.

And then, in the morning, he would usually wake up with a hangover, still in his piggy form, take all the filters off, hating how…ashamed he was of this human body now, and he would go to work, and go see Jean, and just feel…miserable. He was so focused on himself, and his own strange obsession with the pig he’d begun to identify with, that he didn’t notice Jean losing patience with him. For a month or so, Jean took a softer tack. He could tell something was wrong, that as much as his boyfriend tried to tell him there wasn’t anything going on with him–he was clearly lying. Bruce was distracted and morose. He would be non-responsive, and then something minor would set off an inexplicable tirade of anger. He couldn’t read him–and he was no longer sure that he even wanted to know. Why was he putting all of this effort into a man who clearly had no real interest in being honest with him?

As Bruce found himself falling back into his obsession, he began to cling tighter to Jean as a reference point to himself, but Jean was already pulling away. Where Bruce had seemed mysterious and thoughtful, all he saw now was someone with no self-awareness, and no capacity for a mature relationship. Just as Bruce was beginning to think he could make this relationship work with Jean for the long run–Jean pulled the rug out from under him and broke up the next time they got together. He was so stunned, he didn’t know what to do about it, or what to say, or even what to feel, as Jean ran down the list of reasons why he didn’t think Bruce was ready for a relationship, and why Jean didn’t want to bother helping him learn. Bruce could only sit there, listening to Jean describe someone else. Someone he’d come to hate as well, someone he’d never understood. He just wished that he could just get away, back to his apartment where he could get drunk, turn on his filters, and be who he really wanted to be. Be the pig he was coming to think he really was, on the inside. Jean was surprised by how little push back he got from Bruce, as he explained his reasoning. He didn’t seem to care–and to Jean, that only served to cement for him that leaving him was the right decision.

Bruce left as soon as he could find an opportunity, and on the way home, everything Jean had told him just…didn’t seem to matter to him in the slightest. Maybe everything he’d said was true, maybe it wasn’t. It didn’t really matter, in the end, because all of Jean’s complaints weren’t about him, not really. They were about a man, about the man he’d been, but this had clarified something for him–Bruce didn’t want to be that man anymore. Nothing about the way he’d been made any sense to him anymore–the only time he felt complete was when he had those filters on, when he was a pig. A real pig. He knew it was impossible though. He knew he could never really be that pig, and he knew that being that pig couldn’t possibly solve all of his problems overnight. He got home, and started drinking. A few beers in, he turned on his filters and sat down on the couch, listening to it creak under his heft, groping his slimy cock and scrolling through pictures of him and Jean–and then he started digging into the app a bit further.

Underneath the settings, he found what he was looking for–reset default form. He clicked it, and a warning window popped up, telling him that if he reset his defaults, the filters he currently applied would become more detailed and fleshed out as they were fully incorporated into reality–but that once the choice was made, there was no going back. While he might be able to use other filters to get back to something close to who he’d been–it would be gone forever. His memories, too, would disappear or become faint. More like a half-remembered dream. This would be him, forever. He would finally get to be the pig he knew he wanted to be…but what if he didn’t really want this? Did it matter? He wanted it more than who he’d been, he knew that. He could always be something else, later, after all. All he really knew, was that he was done being this particular human, forever. Still, he wavered for a couple hours, and didn’t work up the courage to do it until after a few more beers. He didn’t remember much about the process–just a splitting headache, the sensation of the world twisting around him…and when it was finished, he didn’t feel…particularly different. Or at least, no different than he usually felt. Then, he passed out, snorting and snoring on the couch, and he didn’t get up until the early afternoon the next day.

Arctos: Filters – Episode 1 (Part 4)

Jacking off had never felt like this before. Every stroke was so thrilling, and his heavy balls were throbbing with excitement. He didn’t last long, and after a few minutes, he was spraying his piggy cum all over the floor in his apartment, feeling the orgasm building inside of him, and it just kept coming. Wave after wave of pleasure washing over him, overwhelming his mind and his sensation, and he sprawled out on the couch, enjoying the feeling of his body settling around him, enjoying just…being a pig, for once. Being a pig like…like he should be, right? Like he wanted to be.

Was this just something he’d always wanted without even realizing it? Or was it just that being this…empty and simple felt so much better than anything else he’d felt before? No one would expect him to be anything special, not like this–not even Jean. Jean–he didn’t know what to feel about him now, especially after their nice day today…or what had been a nice day. Suddenly he was feeling a bit…differently about it. About how Jean just didn’t understand him, and what he needed. Sure he was sexy…if that’s what you were looking for in a guy, but Bruce wasn’t sure if that was what he was looking for at all, really. It hadn’t been enough to get him off today at least. He tried telling himself that the dissatisfaction he was feeling was different, but to this version of himself…it was just how things had happened. He’d had a decent day with a nice enough boyfriend who he wasn’t that attracted to, who wasn’t that attracted to him, and…why was he even with him in the first place?

He opened up the filter app again, and started scrolling through it, but he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for. He took a look at himself with a pig snout, thought about adding it to the package, but hesitated. It seemed like…a dangerous idea, even if he did look damn good in it. Then, as he was looking through some old pictures of him, all of which were modified by his new piggish self, he scrolled past a picture of Jean and him taking a selfie–and the program recognized his boyfriend’s face as a target.

Curious, he pulled up the photo and added a filter, only for the app to display a warning message. While he could test filters on a photo, and create packages for use later, no filter applied to an old photo would be effective on the subject. Filters could only be applied to real life by taking a live photo. That piqued his interest–and he started by taking the pig package he’d applied to himself, and put it on the picture of Jean.

In a moment, the photo of his slim, good looking boyfriend had morphed into one that looked quite a lot like him–floppy ears, a second chin, the hint of a fatter chest at the bottom of the selfie. It was hot, sure, but was it quite what he was looking for? He thought back to their sex earlier, how Jean had fucked him (was that what had happened? Part of him could remember topping…but bottoming was more his thing, right?) but it just hadn’t been enough, really. Dick a bit too small, and not nearly…rough enough. No, what he wanted was someone who knew how to ride a pig’s ass properly. He took the filters off, and then looked around on his phone until he found a different picture of him alone, a full body one of his standing in the kitchen cooking a big meal for Bruce (that was one saving grace, the skinny fuck sure could cook!) and then started looking through the filters again, this time thinking about what he’d like to see.

He added some weight first, and then a bit of muscle, giving him a thick, powerlifter physique. Next hair. He toyed with a few filters, but kept adding more, until he had a thick layer down his arms, over his shoulders, and down his ass (along the way, he’d found a filter to edit out clothing, and found a much nicer view after that). A new cock, eight inches long, and uncut. Better, but it could be more than better. He needed a man who knew what a pig wanted, after all. He found the lifestyle filters he’d noticed before, scrolled down until he found one called Farmer John, and applied it–and this time the entire photo shifted.

Instead of a small apartment kitchen, Jean was now standing in a spacious kitchen in a house, somewhat worn down, but still nice. Jean himself had a few changes, but nothing too noticeable–dirt on his hands, his beard a bit longer and knotted, and when he removed the clothes filter, his shirt and jeans were replaced by overalls and a flannel shirt. Fuck, seeing that had his piggy cock leaking all over his belly and thighs, and he started stroking himself again, scrolling through, finding other pictures of his boyfriend, and the filters carried over. Now, in every picture where his young, slim city boyfriend had been, instead there was a hulking muscle bear farmer…and it wasn’t long before Bruce was shooting again, imagining Jean behind him, plowing his ass, telling him what a good pig he was in that sexy country drawl he could almost imagine…but not quite.

The pleasure ebbed, and in its place was restlessness, shame, and disgust. He took the filters off, not noticing they were saved as a package when he did, and then also took the filters off himself as well. It wasn’t possible. He wasn’t a pig, not really, and Jean…Jean didn’t deserve that, did he? He took a shower, still felt dirty afterwards, and then climbed into bed and tried to sleep, but couldn’t get comfortable. It took him an hour of flopping back and forth to realize it was because he was trying to accomodate a gut that wasn’t there, and the frustration came roaring back, but he refused to give in, and eventually slept–though it wasn’t restful, and he awoke in the morning, dimly recalling he’d dreamt of a big, burly farmer fucking him in a mud puddle, and wondered if he was ever going to feel normal again.

Arctos: Filters – Episode 1 (Part 3)

It was difficult to explain how it felt, exactly. On one hand, he had never been this big before–he guessed he was around 250 pounds or so, with a hefty gut, and a rather wide ass as well. He gripped it, and gave it a shake, and it felt good. Really good, somehow, in a way he didn’t even expect. He shook it again, and his cock was hard as a rock, slapping against the underside of his new gut–and the fact that he was so excited unnerved him. Before he could do anything else, he hurried over to the phone and undid it, and the ears, and decided that he had to delete the app…didn’t he?

He already missed it–how could that even be? Even though he’d only been that big for a moment, he felt off balance, like the version of him with that thick gut was the real one, and the skinny version, the real version, was fake. It was so disorienting, that he turned it back on–and when he had it back, he felt so much better, like everything was exactly how it should be. He looked at himself in the mirror, with his gut and floppy ears–and he liked it. It looked good, and right. Why not…keep them for a while? It’s not like he can’t change them back when he gets bored of it, right? And if he could always change himself back later, then why not try a few more changes? It was just for fun after all.

One filter in particular had caught his attention, when he’d been scrolling through–mostly because it had seemed insane that the app would even offer something like that. There it was–a filter that would, apparently, give him the dick of a pig. He didn’t even know what a pig’s dick looked like–he put the filter on, pointed the phone down at his dick, and was surprised at what he was looking at on the screen. It was…curly, and ran up his belly from a sheath, instead of sticking straight out from his crotch. He reached under and grabbed his cock–but what he was looking at, and what he was feeling didn’t match at all, even if the program did a good job rendering his hand stroking up and down the filtered image…but he wanted to know what it would feel like, now that he’d seen it for himself. He took the picture as he stroked it, and he swore he could feel it shifting in his hand, the pleasure intensifying, and he let off a grunt of excitement, put down the phone on the counter, and kept stroking–and thinking about Jean, and how he’d left his place without getting laid.

He was always so caught up in feelings, and wanting to know him, the real Bruce, he said, but he wasn’t complicated. He was just a horny pig, craving sex, and food, and…why not give him a taste of what he’s missing? He sent the dick pic he’d just sent to Jean, hoping to entice him a bit, still stroking, thinking about maybe heading over for a bit of fun, but the messages that came back were…not what he was expecting.

Jean was furious. He shows up at his place, acting strange, refuses to talk about it or anything else, leaves, and now he’s sending him dick pics? Jean wanted to know what in the hell he was thinking, and reading the messages…Bruce found himself asking the same question. What on Earth was he thinking?

He went into the app and reverted the changes–all of them. He felt normal again, the raging horniness from before wearing off, though he found himself…missing it, like he did all of the changes. Still, that wasn’t him. He sent an apology, but while Jean read it, he didn’t reply–had he really just fucked up his relationship so quickly? Then again, maybe it was for the best…though they’d been getting along so damn well, hadn’t they? Everything felt confused in his head, and he wasn’t quite sure whether what he was thinking and feeling was really himself, or just the lingering desires of the pig he’d been for a few minutes. He decided it would be best if he just went to bed, and tried to sort in all out in the morning–and thankfully, with a good night’s sleep, he did feel better, and the longing he felt for that other body was much less powerful than it had been, though it hadn’t gone away entirely.

Things were better with Jean too…though that was harder to try and manage. All Jean wanted was an answer. Why had Bruce been acting so strangely? But he couldn’t tell him the truth. Would he even believe him, if he tried to tell him? He doubted it–he’d just sound crazy. Instead, he told him that he’d had a bad day at work, and hadn’t been feeling well that evening, and while it was a lame excuse, maybe that lameness helped sell it. That, or Jean was just eager to believe something. They made up, had a nice day, and had a good round of sex, though Bruce found it difficult getting hard, and maintaining interest. He ended up not being able to cum, and when he got home he was hornier than ever, and frustrated at himself for not being able to even tell the truth about what was going on with him. Frustrated because the longing he’d hoped would keep dying away had come roaring back, now that he was horny.

The truth was, his human cock didn’t compare to the sensation of that pig cock he’d had for a few minutes. He…wanted to feel it again. It couldn’t have been as good as he remembered, could it? He hadn’t deleted the app, though he knew he should have. He opened it back up, and found that the program had autosaved the three filters into a package under a second tab–labeled past forms. He activated it, stripped down, and just…looked at himself. He was a…sexy fucking animal, he had to say that. He’d never really been one for chubs, really, but looking at himself (no, not himself, at…at the pig, at the pig he’d been? At the pig he could be?) he found all of the sexual energy he hadn’t been able to muster earlier, with Jean. So he took a picture, shook his gut a few times, then grabbed his cock and got to business.