The Power of Society (Part 2)

“I can’t have this thing, I have to trim this,” Edwin was muttering to himself, “No one respects a neckbeard…”

“That is true,” Harold said, “No one would ever respect someone with something like that on their face. You know that, but you haven’t trimmed it in years. That means, you either like it, or you’re too lazy to care. I think…it’s probably both.” Ed tried to interject, but Harold kept talking over him. “You’re too lazy to care about a lot of things. Too lazy to care about haircuts or styling that mop of yours. Too lazy to care about dressing well–all you wear are t-shirts and cargo shorts–usually for weeks on end. Too lazy to care about anything beyond all that nasty gay porn you watch, at least, when you aren’t playing video games or watching stupid TV shows. Too lazy to care about your figure, since all you eat is fatty junk food all the time. That about sums it up, right, nerd? You are a dirty gay nerd, aren’t you Ed?”

The room was still, unable to believe what they’d just witnessed. The clean cut Edwin who’d been standing before them a minute before was gone, replaced by Ed. His suit was replaced by an ill fitting black tee riding up, showing off his gut where it spilled out the bottom, hanging down over his cargo shorts. His hair had grown out long, and looked as greasy and unkempt as his beard. Ed was trying to talk, trying to figure out what to say, what he could possibly say to defend himself in front of the entire house.

“Go on Ed, just admit it. We can all see what you are,” Harold said.

“I…I’m a dirty…gay nerd…” he muttered, suddenly embarrassed to be standing up in front of this many people. He hated attention, he hated being seen. He usually just spent his day holed up in his room, with his porn and video games, where he belonged.

“That’s right Ed. That’s exactly what you are. But like I said before, just because you’re a nerd, doesn’t mean you’re smart, right?”

“I mean, sure, I suppose.”

“Because you aren’t very smart, are you Ed? How could you be, when all you do all day is jack off, stuff your face with food, and play video games? You know, just like the rest of you,” Harold added, looking out at the rest of the room. That was enough for a couple of them scattered around to shift, their clothes morphing into equally filthy versions of Ed’s, beards and hair exploding out, as their waistlines did as well. Most of the young men, however, had enough sense to resist a bit, as Harold had expected. “That’s not me. I’m not like that,” one of them said, and several others voiced their agreement. “We’re going places. Ed’s just a fucking loser. None of us want to be like him.”

“But he’s your fraternity president, isn’t he? Why would you elect someone like him to represent him, if you don’t consider him to be representative of your entire house?” A few others lost it, shifting along, gazing down, confused at their new bodies, unable to believe what had happened, unable to remember themselves being anything other than fat, dirty slobs. “In fact–he’s probably the most well adjusted among you, right? The only one of you with any sort of charisma, to be willing to step up and lead a group of outcasts, loners, and losers like you all are. You should all be thanking him, I think.” That was enough to affect them all, at least a little. Only three or four had gone as far as Ed, but there wasn’t a single young man left in the room without stubble, or a potbelly, or wearing anything nice. “Still, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by your denial–none of you really want to believe that you’re as bad as Ed here. You’re all scared of embracing yourselves, but deep down, you all know the truth, even if you refuse to admit it right now. But more than that, you hate the idea of any one of you rising up and being better than the rest of you, don’t you? That’s why you spend so much time ridiculing one another, dragging each other through the dirt, and…reinforcing each other’s worst instincts.”

“I don’t…know what you mean,” one of them said.

“That’s why you all force each other to watch porn together, masturbating on one another, coating each other’s clothes in your cum. That’s why you tie each other down and force feed each other until you can’t eat another bite. That’s why you broke all the washers and dryers down in the basement. Because if even one of you is exceptional, then that means that the rest of you all are nothing but complete losers. But if you all fail, then there’s nothing you could have done right? You don’t have to feel any shame about the way you want to live your lives.”

Harold could see the suspicion in each of their eyes, as they looked about at one another–the one’s further gone particularly eyeing the one’s who had so far managed to better resist the professor’s persuasions. “Now, I think I’ll take my leave. A work crew will come in soon to install cameras throughout the house, but none of you will even notice, or behave like you’re being watched. You will forget the details of this meeting, but remain convinced of the truths we’ve uncovered together. That all of you are dirty, faggot nerds–even if some of you won’t admit it–and if even one of you succeeds, then the others will all know nothing but shame for the rest of their lives. Alright–now, I have another meeting I must get to, but the lot of you can entertain yourselves, I imagine. Have a good evening!”

Harold left the house, leaving the frat to itself. Most of the young men retreated to their rooms, trying to deny their new beliefs, but finding them already rooted deep in their cores. Later that evening, Ed and another neckbeard dragged Louis, who had remained thin through the professor’s lecture, down to the kitchen, tied him to the table and force fed him for hours, until he was close to 400 pounds. Others pinned their housemates, who were struggling to study and resist their new desires, to the couch while they played porn, jacking off in their hair and on their clothes until they, too, no longer wanted to stop. In all, a wonderful success for the professor’s latest experiment on campus, he thought, as he headed next door, to Alpha Phi Delta for his second meeting of the evening.

The Power of Society (Part 1)

Some of you may have guessed from the title, but this story takes place in the same narrative as “The Power of Belief” (which you can find here in the archive) and “The Power of Reality” (which is only on Patreon). It might be more accurate to call this a long sketch, because there’s a lot more detail that could be paid to the story that follows, but I like this version enough I wanted to post it. You don’t *need” to have read “The Power of Reality” to know what happens here, because the events that follow actually happen prior to most of the events in that story. In fact, “The Power of Reality”, as posted, is actually two separate chunks of the story– “The Power of Persuasion” and then “The Power of Reality”, and what follows happens in between those two chunks. This has probably only confused most of you further.

Here’s a basic rundown. Professor Harold Larson had a student who manipulated him into becoming an old, sadistic top using a special sonic device. The Professor took control of the device, and has developed a watch that allows him to manipulate reality, provided he’s…convincing enough, which he generally is. What follows is an experiment the professor conducts on campus one fall, before the final events of the story.

“Hello everyone,” the older, portly fellow said, to the students sitting around the living room, “I know that the first week of class can be a bit hectic, especially for young men like yourself so dedicated to academic excellence, but I wanted to call this mandatory house meeting so I could take a moment and introduce myself. I’m Dr. Harold Larson, a professor here on campus, and I’m going to be assisting the Dean of students this academic year by overseeing a couple of the fraternities on campus.”

The young men of Sigma Mu Tau looked from one to another, a little confused. Their fraternity was composed entirely of upperclassmen, and membership was only allowed to those students who were in the top five percent of their classes. To say that they were academically focused would be a bit of an understatement–Sigma Mu Tau had fostered future presidents, fortune 500 businessmen, nobel prize winners–why their prestigious fraternity would need supervision from the dean’s office didn’t make much sense to any of them. Edwin Foster–the president of the fraternity–spoke, “I just met with the dean yesterday, and he didn’t mention any of this to me. Why are we being supervised?”

Harold chuckled, “Well, I only just made my request to the dean this morning, but I can assure you he is completely on board with my request. Perhaps I should try and be a bit more precise. I’m a professor of psychology, and I requested permission to supervise two fraternities on campus for an experiment of mine, and–”

“An experiment? Don’t you need our consent first?”

“True,” Harold said, and adjusted his glasses, and adjusted the watch on his wrist. “I’m certain all of you will willingly consent to the furtherance of knowledge, correct? You don’t want to be bored with the details.”

The young man who’d spoke wanted to object, but he wasn’t quite sure…why he would. The professor’s words made perfect sense to him–and everyone else in the room. They all nodded their assent, and Harold beamed at them all. “Excellent. I knew I could count on some smart nerds like yourself to understand.”

“Excuse me, but that’s kind of insulting, isn’t it?” Edwin said, “Just because we’re intelligent doesn’t mean that we’re nerds. That’s part of the reason this fraternity exists, is to provide a place for men of intellect to gather and further civilization.”

“Ah, but don’t you have that backwards, Edwin? May I call you Ed?”

“No, you may not.”

“Oh, but you much prefer being called Ed, don’t you? Doesn’t Edwin just sound so…stodgy, and uptight?”

“I mean…” Edwin paused, trying to understand why he found the professor so agreeable. He’d always hated anyone shortening his name, hadn’t he?”

“Come on up here, Ed.”

The young man stood, and approached the front of the room, where the professor was standing and addressing the house.

“Now, what I meant, when I said that you had that backwards, was that what you meant to say, surely, was that just because you’re all nerds, doesn’t mean that you’re smart, right?”

“I can…assure you that’s not what I meant at all.”

“Oh, but let’s use you as an example, Ed.” Harold looked the young man up and down a bit, before saying anything else. He was a senior this year, pursuing a degree in economics. Edwin was well meticulous in his appearance, with his hair well styled at all times, dressed even now in a suit–though he’d allowed himself the liberty of taking off his tie in the house, around his friends and associates of the house. His summer had been spent in DC, interning with a lobbying firm, and there was chatter around campus he was thinking of running for his home state’s congress once he graduated in the spring. “Now, I’d say you’re a nerd, wouldn’t you, Ed?”

“I can assure you that I am not a nerd.” The men in the room chuckled, though it was a bit…strained. The meeting was taking a strange turn, and none of them were quite sure what to make of this shift.

They saw Harold fiddle with his watch again, and throw his arm around Edwin’s shoulders, putting the timepiece near his ear. A few observant members of the house saw their president’s eyes look puzzled a moment, and then relax. Others became dimly aware of a buzzing noise in the air, but forgot to remain focused on it for long. “Why don’t we start by talking about what a nerd is Ed. Nerds are…socially awkward right? They spend a lot of time alone, they don’t really know how to deal with people all that well. They mostly like spending time on their computers, and watching TV. What do you think they watch, Ed?”

“I…I don’t know. They…probably play video games, and watch anime, or whatever…”

“That, but I think they also look at a lot of porn, just like you do, Ed.”

Ed, of course, thought pornography was an utter waste of time, and never watched it. However, at the professor’s suggestion, he found his mind…filling in facts to back up the insinuation. “I…No…I don’t.”

“We can come back to that,” the professor said, “Nerds also don’t take very good care of themselves, right? Rarely taking showers, almost never doing laundry, wearing the same comfortable, casual clothes for days on end, not even noticing when they start to stink. They don’t shave either–most proper nerds have long, thick, busy neckbeards like yours.”

Everyone in the room watched the hair spring from Edwin’s smooth face. By the time his hand had gone up to find the beard there, it was long enough to reach his chest, and looked like it hadn’t been trimmed or cared for much in the years it must have taken to grow it. Even though everyone had just witnessed the beard growing…none of them could quite recall every seeing Ed without it. “How…I didn’t have this…a second ago, did I?”

“Of course you did, Ed.” Harold said, and looked out to see how the frat was reacting. Most were staring at Edwin in shock, but a few of them stirred in their seats, eyeing the exit. “All of you find this very fascinating, don’t you?” he said to the room, “None of you would dare leave when you could watch this instead.” The room settled down, and he turned back to Edwin. “Now, where were we?”

“Hello sir, I’m a representative from Arctos Outfitters. I was wondering if you’d like to try a sample of one of our specialty line of soaps in the showers today,” the young man said, as Rudy approached the gym showers with his towel wrapped around his waist.

“E-Excuse me?” he said, looking around and a bit confused. The man was young, but had a nicely trimmed beard, and a bit of a paunch–but it looked good on him somehow, even if Rudy would never in his life let himself get that heavy. He was also completely naked, which even in this locker room was…fairly brazen.

“Just a sample is all. It’s completely free.”

“Yeah, but…here?” Rudy asked.

“Well, it makes sense doesn’t it? Why wouldn’t you hand out soap at the showers?” the young man said, grinning from cheek to cheek. “No one needs a sample of soap on the street corner.

Wanting to avoid an argument, he just took the little bar of soap the man handed him, wrapped in a little paper wrapper-like a hotel soap. He looked at the label, and it said it was called “Cubble.”

“Oh, that’s my favorite–I use it every day!” the young man said, giggling a bit, “Enjoy your shower!”

He went into the room, surprised to find a few other showers running, and the room quite steamy–so much so it was a bit difficult to see through the room. He went to a showerhead and turned it on, waited for the temperature to stabilize, and then lathered up with the sample of soap. True to it’s name, it was…quite foamy, so much so that it was even a bit…tingly, making him chuckle, and then giggle–a sound which made him rather embarrassed to come out of his usually mature, deep voiced throat. Still, the soap did feel good. He ran it down over his abs again…only to discover they weren’t abs anymore–he had a small round gut, not unlike the young man who’d give him the soap. He dropped it in surprise, and gripped his chubby midsection in surprise.

“Looks like you dropped something boy, let me get that for you,” a voice said beside him, and a massive, older…daddy knelt down beside him and picked up the bar. “You still have about half left–let daddy help you out, get those…hard to reach spots.”

Rudy was helpless as the man scrubbed him down, moaning and giggling as the man washed him, paying extra attention to his cock and balls, before shoving Rudy up against the wall of the shower and sliding his cock into the new cub’s soap slick crack. “Think you ‘n I are gonna pay that Arctos shop a visit tonight boy–we’re gonna need some more soap, and a whole lot of things to get dirty with in between.”

Source: thatonebigchub

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

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

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

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

Source: thatonebigchub

The Muse of Fantasy (Part 4)

Nick felt it, the heat of it, burning and searing in his guts, and he screamed. The bull was still cumming, emptying his balls deep inside, and while some cum was dribbling back out, much of it remained within, bloating Nick’s slim belly–but even as the bull’s flow slowed, the bloat kept growing. “Oh god, oh god it hurts so much…” Nick said, panting with exertion, his skin sweaty and clammy as the heat expanded through him. It swallowed his groin, his balls and cock on fire, down his thighs and ass which began to expand, the bones swelling and cracking into new positions, and up his chest, filling out with muscle and more and more fat. “Oh god, what…what am I becoming?” he moaned to himself.

Oliver wasn’t quite sure–he hadn’t been that specific in his fantasy, and he was as eager to find out as any of them in the room. He checked under Nick, and saw his cock, now covered by a sheath, lose it’s human shape even as it grew, balls purging the remaining humanity from them even as they swelled with monstrous seed of their own. It looked like, as it grew, the shaft was twisting, almost as a corkscrew. “It would seem you’re going to be a very handsome piggy.”

“No–No no no!” Nick said, “No, I’m not going to be some fat fucking pig-*Groink*!” he squealed, as a shirt tail erupted above his ass, slightly curled and whipping too and fro. “No, please, you have to help me.”

“There’s no helping you Nick. In a few minutes, you aren’t even going to exist anymore–you’ll just be another dumb, mindless animal, like your boyfriend back there.” Oliver could see the changes becoming clearer, Nick’s skin becoming rough as large patched darkened to a deep brown, leaving him with a clear piebald pattern on his skin. His haunches had filled out as his legs shortened–still thick, but certainly no longer capable of holding up his mass on two legs. His hands changed less–the finger’s shortening, his palms coated it hand black bone to keep from ripping up as he crawled about on them. All that remained of Nick was his head, but even that was losing the battle–his hair falling out in clumps, ears growing larger and floppy as they shifted to the top of his head, breathing more and more labored as his mouth and nose twisted and pushed out into a stubby snout. Nick tried to speak, tried to plead, but he could no longer make recognizable words, just grunts and squeals.

“Hush now, piggy, I know what you need,” Oliver said, pressing the tip of his cock to Nick’s snout, watching the drool form immediately, the pig’s tongue licking the head, hungry for it, even as Nick fought against the beast destroying his mind. His resistance didn’t last long, and the beast crawled forward, the still fucking bull inching ahead with him, to swallow Oliver’s cock, hungry for cum, and cum at all. “Look at me–fucking look at me!” Oliver shouted, and the pig looked up as it slobbered all over his cock–he wanted to look into it’s eyes, watch the awareness dull as the last shreds of humanity left them, and when all traces of Nick were gone–he pushed deep into the pig’s mouth and fed it a load of cum, listening to it gulp everything down. Only then did he step away, and realize from the moans in the room that Amoredie had been enjoying the display as well, and they stood up, crossing the room to Oliver, pressing into him, kissing him, and the desire he felt at that moment–it was indescribable.

“You are the mortal I have spent millennia searching for,” they moaned into his ear, and Oliver wanted them. To fuck them, to be fucked by them, to imagine with them, and when they slipped away, out of his grasp like water, he was only left with an indescribable need, but they had moved over to Oliver’s creations, the two beast still fucking, as the bull had found a second wind, the pig mindlessly thrusting back, eager for more. They touched them, explored them, examined them, and suddenly, they began to dissipate, and in a few seconds they were gone.

“Where did they go?” Oliver asked.

“Oh, I’ve sent them to a pocket of forest. Far enough from civilization that they won’t be slaughtered, but close enough to encourage..legends, and the growth of the herd. Don’t worry–if you would ever like to visit, we can arrange that, but don’t consider joining them–after all, I can’t lose my greatest artist in generations to his own work quite yet.”

They approached him again, sliding back into Oliver’s embrace, and he felt a fantasy of his own filling him. He lost a couple of decades, his body filling in with muscle, his cock growing larger. “Consider it a reward,” they said. “Now, your muse has needs, my artist. You have other clients, don’t you?”

Oliver did indeed–and quite a few wouldn’t object to an unexpected appearance by their favorite makeup artist and fantasy enabler. But he was done with their silly, idle desires. No–Oliver had a new mission for himself, and his muse. From now on, he would be enabling his own fantasies–and he had so many stored away, he was neither sure where to begin, or whether he could ever plumb the depths entirely.

“Calm yourself, my eager artist,” Amoredie said, “Bed with me first, my love, and then we shall see about improving this dull world of yours with your best dreams and nightmares.”

Beasts of the Corn (2 of 2)

I was completely turned around at this point, shouting for my friends, but getting no response. My phone had no service at all, so I knew I was on my own. A few minutes later, I got ambushed by two more of those things…and I remembered it a bit more. How one pinned me down and…and the other fucked my ass, it’s claws raking across my back, teeth biting into my shoulders. Again, when I could get up, I had changed–more hair, fatter…shorter, and were my arms a bit longer even?

I didn’t know what was happening, or how any of this was even possible, but I kept going, kept searching for the exit, even as the beasts followed–taunting me. I could…hear them now, even understand them. They all wanted me to stay, they wanted me to play with them, to…to feed them. I didn’t know what they meant, but I was determined to avoid finding out what they meant my all of that. One of them chased me, and I managed to dodge it and run away, only to run right into two more. I could see them more clearly now–they were like nothing I’d ever seen–no more than three feet tall, with a round belly and short bowed legs. Their cocks were huge, and they reeked of some scent which is just…impossible to describe. Those two raped me as well. I mean, I say rape, but…but I enjoyed it. It felt good, having them inside me, and when one presented its hole to me I…I gave in. I fucked it, like it had fucked me, but I stopped myself. I stopped and hauled my cock out…and it didn’t look quite human anymore, and it was bigger.

I understood, then, what these things were. I understood what would happen to me if I gave in, if I let them have their way with me. I ran off again, shutting my ears to them, refusing to entertain their suggestions. That I relax and stop running. That I play with them. That I become one of them. That I don’t really want to be human. There was…one more time, that I couldn’t resist. It was almost night, and I was exhausted and cold and hungry. One of them jumped me, and I was so tired of fighting, so tired of being so scared. They could all feel me, beginning to give in, looking to see if this was the moment I would break. I…felt my body shifting more–my beard longer, my teeth sharpening, my balls swelling larger with strange, inhuman seed, my brain dulling around the edges-losing focus and will, but I crawled away. I’d still be in there if I hadn’t found the exit a few minutes later, stumbling out of the corn, sobbing, unsure if I was happy to be out, or if all I wanted was to go back inside.

The hicks…I understood who they were now. They were like me–tied to the beasts of the corn. They offered me shelter and food at the house, and I took it, desperate. They were amazed that I’d made it out at all–they rarely saw anyone as far gone as me emerge…and stay. I knew what they meant. I could feel the desires tugging at me. I could never go back to that old life of mine. I could stay here, living with them, fucking…keeping each other as sane as we could be. Feeding others to the beasts so they might give us a night without the whispers, calling us back inside. I took another picture of myself, in the bathroom. I looked at myself as I’d been, and as I was now. No one was surprised when I threw my phone in the trash, left the house, and ran back into the maze, the beasts cackling with delight as they descended upon me in the darkness.

Source: danartrd

Beasts of the Corn (1 of 2)

I thought it was a stupid idea–I mean, who actually wants to go do a fucking haunted corn maze? I haven’t done something like that since I was ten. But when my friend and his girl suggested it, and Tina, my girlfriend, loved the idea, it wasn’t like I had a whole lot of options but to go along for the ride. It wasn’t like it would take longer than a couple of hours, and then we could go do something a bit more adult.

The maze was a few miles out of town, connected with some rundown farm. The whole thing seems sketchy as all hell–it’s all these sort of redneck looking guys running the show, but we all pay the admission fee, and listen as the guy talks about the maze, tells us to be careful and not get separated–and definitely don’t get lost, or the beasts in the maze might have their way with us. He added what I assumed was supposed to be a menacing laugh, but I just rolled my eyes. Sure, some spooky fuck will jump out at us looking like the wolfman–who gives a fuck?

We head into the maze. There’s apparently four or five secret locations, and the more you find, the better your chance at getting a prize at the end. Tina and her friend want to hunt them down, but I just want to get the damn thing over with, because the maze is giving me the creeps. No one’s actually hopped out to scare us at all, but I have this…feeling that I’m being watched all the same.

It was my stupid fault. While they were hunting for the clues or whatever, I was just looking for the exit. I would head down other paths, scouting things out, before heading back to rejoin them–and it wasn’t long before I got separated from them in the maze. The sensation of being watched was only more intense now–I turned the corner of the maze only to find myself facing a dead end–and there was…something waiting for me. There was a slash of fur and claws, and then it was on me–I don’t remember much at all, but I woke up on the ground, out of sorts…and my clothes had all been ripped to shreds, and my ass hurt.

I stood up, and found myself naked–but I looked different. A little pudgier, and hairier. My phone still worked, but didn’t have any bars. I took a photo of myself to see, and sure enough…I was different. Hairier, I even looked a bit older.

I heard a rustle in the corn near me, stood up, and hurried back the way I’d come, thankful my shoes were intact, at least. I could hear them, whatever they were, chasing me, taunting me. I had to get out of here before they caught me again.

Source: bareboy

Deal of a Lifetime (Part 7)

*Knock* *Knock*

“Room service!”

*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*

“Daddy…Daddy, that’s your cue. Get the door.”

He just moaned, burrowing deeper into the pig’s shit chute with his tongue.

“Daddy! Get the door!”

He blinked, and sat back on his heels, trying to remember what was going on. He took a suck off his cigar, but realized it had burnt out while he’d been eating out the pig’s hole–how fucking long had he been at it?

*Knock* *Knock*

“Is anyone there?”

He stumbled up, a bit off balance, and stumbled towards the hall, hauled open the door. “The fuck do ya want?” he said, and the young woman who’d brought the two full carts of food up gasped at the sight of him, and backed up a step, at a loss for words.

“T-Thanks,” he said, and pulled the two carts inside, shutting the door behind him, feeling a bit embarrassed at the woman’s obvious disgust. Wondering what she’d seen, he slipped into the bathroom and turned on the light, only to shout at the sight. That wasn’t his face–he didn’t look like that! The beard he’d sprouted had lengthened, running down to his chest, and his hair had grown out long as well. They were both greasy and tangled, more grey than his original brown at this point–well, aside from the area around his mouth, which was slimy with the pig’s juices and his own slobber. His leather gear (was it even his? He’d always despised leather and the fake masculinity it seemed to inspire in the men who wore it) was no longer crisp and new as it had been earlier, when he’d found himself in it. The leather vest was well worn, and now bore a number of biker patches, his chaps and boots equally worn, and the jock–fuck, his jock was putrid yellow and crisp to the touch.

“Oh good choices all around, daddy,” the little pig had gotten off the bed and was inspecting what the woman had dropped off. “I bet you’ve worked up a bit of an appetite, right?”

“What the fuckin’ hell have ya done tah me, ya little fuck?” he exclaimed, pointing at his reflection in the mirror.

“You honestly didn’t expect a dirty, disgusting pig like me to want to play around with the cute little cub you were before, do you?” Carmichael said, grunting and chuckling to himself, “No–I only play with guys who are just as disgusting as I am.”

“No–No, I’m not fucking like you–this ain’t me! I ain’t this disgusting fucker! Change me back, right fuckin’ now, or I fuckin’ swear, I’ll–”

The pig interrupted him, shoving a cupcake in his daddy’s mouth, watching the older man’s eyes roll back in his head in pleasure, his larger gut growling with approval. “That’s what I thought. Come on now daddy–let’s get you fed.”

He laid the daddy down on the bed, propping his head up with a couple of pillows, and then pulled both carts up alongside them, before climbing up and straddling, grinding his ass against his daddy’s bulging jock, listening to him moan. “Be a good daddy, let the little piggy fatten you up, and maybe you’ll get to feel that cock in my hole tonight.”

Before he could respond, he shoved another cupcake into his maw, and the feeding began. It was slow going at first–the daddy was still fighting pretty hard. They took the occasional break to feed each other some smoke, to let the daddy’s hunger catch up, the pig’s pipe so much sweeter than the rough cigars he preferred smoking. The breaks weren’t necessary before too long, and the pig quickened the pace. Cupcakes, pudding, ice cream, doughnuts–all of it went into daddy’s gut–they could feel it heaving up between them until a certain point when it lost its firmness, and settled around him in a pile of soft flab. It was around that point, daddy started sobbing–pleading and begging with the pig to just let him go, refusing to eat another bite.

“Do you want to fuck my hole or not, daddy? Keep eating.”

“No, please, no more. I can’t do this anymore.”

“You can too–I believe in you! You can be the biggest, most vile daddy in the world, I know it. Now open up.”

But he stubbornly refused, the little pig letting off a squealing sigh. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to resort to this until later, but you’re just not cooperating. Still, this will help move things along.” He fished his piggy cock out, aimed for his daddy’s mouth over his flabby gut, and let loose a burst of piss which landed right in his face. The stench alone made his head spin–he licked his lips and got a taste of it, and groaned. The pig let loose a longer stream then, his daddy chasing the golden piss as the pig soaked him down, watching his daddy’s hair and beard grow longer, his body stinking and unwashed, the musk stronger than most men would be able to handle. The pig started stuffing his face again, helping him wash it down with more and more piss, watching him grow older and older still, his hair entirely white aside from where it had yellowed around his mouth from his cigars, teeth rotten and crooked, eyes hungry and desperate, losing their will to fight. It wasn’t too much longer before the carts were both empty, and while his daddy moaned, the little pig spent a while licking him clean, tasting his daddy’s filth while the older man smoked his cigars, trying to muster some resistance, but…but he wasn’t entirely sure what, exactly, he was fighting against anymore. All he really wanted, now that he had stuffed himself, was a turn at that little pig’s dirty hole.

“Alright pig, I did mah part. Now you’s get bent over the bed, ‘n let daddy plow that nasty hole a yers.”

Daryl had always harboured a suspicion that video games were bad for you–it always seemed like such a waste of time, when you could be doing something productive with your time: studying, working out, taking a walk, or anything else for that matter! And so, you can imagine his frustration when he arrived at his campus house for the start of the semester, and discovered he was living with a bunch of gamers–though one of them was by far the worst of the lot. Sammy was every worst imagined flaw of a gamer that Daryl could imagine, brought to life. He was obese, he was a slob who never picked up after himself, he drank and ate all the time wherever he was, and he was always playing those stupid games of him. His two housemates got sucked in with him, wasting their time, but he just ignored them…until he started to notice something strange.

The other two guys had been fairly normal, but within a month of hanging out with Sammy, they were starting to pick up his habits. They stopped shaving and showering, they were all drinking beer and eating pizza every night, and none of them seemed to find that the least bit strange or disturbing, even when he tried to point out what was happening to them. They were oblivious. By midterms, the two of them were almost unrecognizable, and if he hadn’t seen it happen, he would have never believed that the two of them had been slim, clean cut guys just a month and a half before–it wasn’t possible. How in the hell could someone even gain 200 pounds that quickly?

The tension in the house was rough–Daryl would get into screaming fights with any of them, telling them to pick up their crap, or do anything besides sit there, drink, and play video games all day long. Then, one night, he came home late from the library, only to discover the living room was empty of the three of them, but the gaming system was still on the TV. He walked over to turn it off, but the screen…caught his interest somehow, and he stared at it for a few minutes, unblinking, before throwing caution to the wind, picking up the controller, and giving it a shot.

When he finally emerged from the stupor he’d sunk into, he realized it was morning–no, it was afternoon. Snacks were litered around him, along with a bunch of empty beer bottles, and his gut was distended. He threw down the controller and stood up as Sammy walked into the room, completely naked, bearing another tray of junk food. “Oh player four, sit back down on that couch–you aren’t nearly ready for a break yet.”

Daryl tried to resist, but he found himself compelled to obey, Sammy waddling over and picking up the controller, putting it back in his hands. “Players two and three are having plenty of fun upstairs together, so that gives us plenty of time to get you caught up, right big boy?”

But Daryl wasn’t listening anymore–he was playing his game. By the end of the week, he was as massive, hairy and slobby as the rest, begging for player one’s cock all day long, and he couldn’t even remember being any other way.

Deal of a Lifetime (Part 4)

The hotel was large enough that it served as an anchor for a couple of restaurants–the first was a much more highbrow affair, and while Carmichael simply knew he would have to sample it’s fair at some point this weekend, he decided on the other restaurant for his first meal–a more casual restaurant with a bar inside. His piggy was growing a bit restless, and he always had a better chance of finding someone for his piggy if he stuck out a bit. It was slightly early for dinner, but a number of other bears were there, scattered around the restaurant, most of them eating as well, but Carmichael neither joined them, nor found any of them particularly intriguing. He asked the hostess to seat him at a small table with a clear view of the concourse of the hotel, giving him a good view of men walking past–as well as giving them all a clear view of him. He ordered a bevy of appetizers for himself–including a couple plates of wings so he could make a mess of himself, and when they arrived, he ripped into the food–after tucking his napkin into his shirt like a bib. He’d never really been able to contain himself around food; the messiest side of himself always seemed to come out, no matter what he did.

The people around him kept glancing at him, a bit aghast at the massive man stuffing himself at the table there, and knowing how disgusted they found him made his cock harden and leak a bit in his slacks. He would occasionally look around and meet their stare, daring them to come over and say something, encouraging them to come play with him, but none of the men at the tables answered his desire. If anything, they seemed embarrassed, and by the time he moved onto his entrees he was becoming a bit discouraged–but then he walked by.

One of three young muscle cubs who were obviously acquaintances. They were all wearing some variation on shorts and tanks, displaying their wares, giving the men a peek at what they might find underneath if they were worthy. A great snort escaped from him, as he chowed down, loud enough to draw their attention, and while all three gaped at him in utter disgust, one of them in particular stood out to him. Finally, someone interesting. He locked eyes with him a moment, and unlike the others around him, he didn’t flinch away–he stared right back, the utter disgust apparent in his eyes, and he only turned away when one of the other young men got his attention, and they continued on their way–but Carmichael knew he’d made an excellent first impression–he’d be back soon enough.

He finished his three entrees and ordered a trio of desserts. With these, he took his time. He no longer needed to perform as grotesquely as before, now that someone had taken the bait. His cock was hard and quivering with excitement, but it wasn’t until the young man walked back past the restaurant–no longer in the company of his two friends–saw Carmichael still stuffing himself, sneered, and walked over.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you one of those fucking gainers? Is that what you’re fucking doing? Because it’s fucking disgusting, and you should be fucking ashamed of yourself,” he said, standing across from Carmichael.

The insult brought a sharp, erotic heat to his groin, and Carmichael moaned, mouth full of cake as he did.

“You fucking piece of shit, did that fucking turn you on?” he asked.

Carmichael nodded, slowly, watching the fury build in the young man’s eyes. Yes, he was going to be a good one.

“So that’s you’re fucking fetish? You like making a pig of yourself in public?”

“Oh, I can make a pig of myself in private too.”

“In your fucking dreams.”

“No–I know you want to. That’s why you walked over here, sir,” Carmichael said, “You get as much of a thrill from insulting me as I get from your cruelty. You want to punish me, don’t you? You want to abuse me, and humiliate me, and you’d love every moment of–”

The young man, rattled, picked up the rest of the cake and shoved it into Carmichael’s mouth, and he moaned, taking as much as he could, feeling the rest spread around his face, while the young man tried to figure out why his cock was so hard all of a sudden. He pulled his hand away, wiping it off with a dirty napkin, while Carmichael chewed the massive bite, and swallowed it. “Goodness sir, this pig wants to play with you real bad.”

“Fuck you. I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.”

“No sir,” Carmichael said, a strange sternness slipping into his voice, “We’re going to go up to your room, and you’re going to play with this little piggy, because that’s what you want. You want to abuse me, to use me, to rape me. Well here is your chance. What do you say, sir?”

The young man tried to speak, he tried to deny it, but…but it was true. He’d never once imagined having sex with someone who looked like this, this fat, old ugly fuck, but looking at him, standing right here, suddenly…it was all he could think about. “Get up then.”

“No sir–help me finish dessert first, and then we can go.”

“What?”

“Stuff my face like you’re going to stuff my holes. I know you want to. Show the rest of these people what a pig I am. Think of it as a warm up.”

So he did, standing there. He shoved the rest of the food on the table right into Carmichael’s mouth, listening to his grunt and snort, wondering what it the world he was doing–and when every plate was licked clean, Carmichael paid his sizable bill, left ample gratuity for the embarrassed staff, and the young man led him up to his room to play.