Musky Writes

I hit the gym for an hour every morning before work.  Not that anyone would call me a gym rat—I’ve got a lot of weight around the tum I’m working on—but I wasn’t going to let looking out of place stop me.

Treadmill today, watching the rain in the dark through the glass.

The view was mostly cars going by, the endless traffic of downtown.  Not too many pedestrians at this hour.  An old black bear walking an ancient black dog, regulars at this time.  One of the gym attendants, a young fox, sweeping wet leaves from the sidewalk.  A buff wolf in a gray poncho who gave a double-take as he passed by, and stopped to give me finger-guns of recognition.

I didn’t recognize him in return, but a handsome guy is a handsome guy.  I gave him a wink.

He grinned and stopped his walk, leaning against the support pillar at the edge of the window to eye me up and down.

I checked my watch.  Plenty of time before work still.  I hopped off the treadmill, grabbed my backpack, and went out to meet him.

“You’re Tetra, aren’t you?”  he said, as I approached him.

Probably not a forgotten hookup then, otherwise he wouldn’t know that name.  School days, maybe.  “Oh gosh, nobody calls me that.  ‘Tetch’ is fine.  Forgive me for not recognizing you, but…?”

“Carvil.”  The name didn’t ring a bell.  He resumed walking in the direction he’d been going, and I went with him, keeping pace beside.  “I’m here to…well, to take you back to my place, but I probably wouldn’t have put it that way a minute ago.”

“Won you over with my manly charm, did I?”

His rugged expression brightened with a blush to his eartips and a slight smile.  “Well, the boss wanted to meet you already…”

The wolf’s burliness took on new context.  “‘The boss’, huh?  Makes it sound like—”

Carvil gave a warning glance, and I gathered I’d better not say anything to besmirch the honor of ‘the boss’ on a public sidewalk.

“I didn’t piss anyone off somehow, did I?”

The other wolf shook his head.  “You’re not in trouble, no.  The boss has…well, information about your biological family, basically.”

Huh, I thought.  Doesn’t sound like traditional mob business, unless this shady mob boss is literally my dad.

“He’ll probably want to play with you as well.”  Carvil grinned.  “Probably top of his mind, actually.”

Okay, maybe not Dad then.

I called my job and told them a family thing had come up, and followed Carvil to a parking lot where he approached a big white van with a brutish-looking tiger leaning against it.

“Found him,” Carvil said.  “We’re all good.  Let’s go.”

The tiger nodded and climbed into the back of the van, and I sat up front with Carvil.  The front seats were walled off from the rest of the van; I realized that abduction was probably on the table if I hadn’t come along willingly.  Shady Mob Boss probably wasn’t the type to take refusal gracefully.  I stayed wary, but as far as I could tell nothing was happening that I wouldn’t be okay with.  Which reminded me…

“Sorry,” I said.  “After introductions I never got around to flirting with you properly.”

The blush again, and the smile, but briefer.

“You know, I’ve always been a sucker for the bad boys…”

He snorted.  “You like the idea of it.  You wouldn’t say that if you watched the sausage being made, so to speak.”

“Maybe not, but I hope I still get to taste the sausage.”  I underscored this remark with a furtive stroke at his crotch, which was already an appetizing package even though he was still mostly soft.

His grip tightened on the wheel.  “Tetch…”

His voice was pleading, but whether his plea was to stop or to keep going, I couldn’t tell.  The correct thing to do, then, was ask; I stilled my paw.  “Sausage not ready for the buns?”

“It really is worse than you think, pup.”

I shrugged.  “I think this boss of yours has power over you and you do what you have to to survive.  And I can tell you worry that ‘just following orders’ doesn’t absolve you.  And I’m willing to bet you make up for it by not following orders as well as he’d like.”

“But people still get hurt.  He doesn’t even think of them as people.”  He turned the van off the main road in the direction of the mountains, entering a forested residential area.

“Ain’t it always the way,” I said.

“And I’m still taking you to him…”

“He does want to hurt me, then?”

“‘Not thinking of you as a person’ comes with being indifferent as to whether you are hurt or not.”

We were traveling upwards now; the road gradient was gentle, but soon we were at a height that offered an overlook of Ko City on one side while still-rising hillside filled the other.  He turned onto a steep driveway moving upwards, and we approached a house roughly as big as a medium-sized hotel—surely the boss’s place.

❧

Carvil pulled the van into a massive garage, a showroom of glistening cars, classic and modern, and parked in a far corner among a group of other service vehicles.  He and the tiger led me back to an elevator and up to a long corridor lined with doors.

Our door was unmarked, about halfway down the hall; the tiger let us in to a spacious bedroom.

“I’ll go let him know he’s here,” he said, leaving me alone with the wolf.

Once the door was shut again, I turned to Carvil with a grin.  “So how much time you think we have before they come back?”

He was on me immediately, strong arms around me and his mouth pressed against mine, kissing me hungrily.

“Mmh,” I said, returning the embrace and rubbing my paws down his back to squeeze his rump.

I kicked off my shoes and maneuvered us over to the bed, where Carvil took the lead and lay on top of me, still kissing me aggressively as his paws slid under my shirt.  I broke the kiss only long enough to pull it off for him and give him unhindered access to my torso.

And became immediately self-conscious as his mouth moved downward to attend to my nipple.

He noticed my flinch and pulled back to look at me.  “You all right?”

“As long as you’re good.  I…”  I blushed, but I’m good at powering through embarrassment.  “Well, one of the supplements I’m on has a bit of a side effect, and, well, I figured I should let you know in case working my chest got me a bit, uh, milky.”

His gaze moved from my eyes to my chest.  “Milky, eh?”

His mouth latched on and he started sucking.

I shivered at his eagerness, lips and teeth and tongue working my nipple each in their own way, and I wrapped my arms around him to hold him tight against me as he made appreciative noises, clearly enjoying the taste of me.  “Oh fuck,” I said.  “Wasn’t expecting that kind of response.”

He pulled off briefly, answering “not the first I’ve fed from,” before his tongue slid up the underside of my chest—it was wet, was I leaking that much already?—and went back to work.

He wasn’t at it long before the door swung open, and in strode what presumably must have been The Boss, at least if my guess about him being my father was right:  the wolf looked just like me.  Well, a couple decades older, to be sure, and definitely more slim and toned than my chunky self, but his fur was the same color, and his markings all even in the same place.

“Oh!”  he said, with rather more excitement than one might expect from a father seeing his son nursing his underling.  “I see Carvil is making you comfortable.”

“You’ll enjoy this, sir,” Carvil said.

The boss approached the bed for a closer look, and the other wolf gave my chest a milking squeeze in demonstration.

“Oh, that’s delightful!”  the boss said, and climbed on the bed to take my nipple into his mouth, as Carvil moved across me to start on my other side.

At this point, I realized I needed context, but with the two wolf men intensely working my nips I couldn’t manage anything more coherent than “D-Dad?!”

The boss laughed, easing off me.  “Oh, not at all.  Not in the conventional way, anyway.  You’re not my son, you’re my clone.  I own you!”

My dick throbbed at the last sentence.  That was not the context I was expecting.  The two wolves continued to work my chest, as if whatever my reaction to that would be didn’t matter.  As if I were just an object.  Just property.  Because that’s what clones were.  I belonged to this man just as much as every car in his garage did, and he was taking me for a joyride.

“I…  Really?”

Carvil let up and looked at me, his expression softening into relief as he realized my response was more excitement than dismay.  He had told me, I realized.  As a warning, sure, knowing that most people wouldn’t react positively.  I’d thought he was being metaphorical, that the boss was exploitative in the usual way men of power are.  Instead…

I pulled him up for a kiss, tasting the richness of my milk in his mouth.

The boss reached down to grab my cock.  “Oh, you’re thick!  I love those little differences…”

He shucked off his clothes and straddled my legs, pressing his length against mine, stroking them together with one paw.  Carvil made out with me a bit longer till the boss had worked me up hard enough I was gasping, after which he resumed his place at my nipple.

The boss got up to grab some lube from a nightstand and slathered it on my shaft, and I squirmed, trying to keep from shooting immediately.  I knew what he wanted.  He could tell I was close, so he didn’t hesitate; with an agile movement he jumped back on the bed and positioned his rump over my hard cock, pressing his hole on it till it sank in deep.

I reached down to stroke his cock as he rode mine.  As he’d said, it was a little slenderer, but plenty respectable, and already a little slick from our precum.  His hole clenched eagerly on me though, grinding against my knot as he worked his hips, and I really couldn’t hold back much longer.

“I’m gonna cum…daddy…”  I realized I still didn’t know his name, but it didn’t matter, it was hot to fuck my progenitor, who loved my thick cock and claimed me as his property and didn’t seem to mind sharing me with his goons…

I gripped Carvil hard against me as his boss sank down on my knot.  My body tensed up and I let loose inside him, filling that warm tender hole with his clone’s seed till it leaked back out down my balls.

His length was warm in my paw and I continued to work it, watching his face as he continued to grind on my cock, trying to keep me hard as he built up his climax.

“C’mon, shoot for me…sir…”  I said, trying to play up the role as I worked his swollen knot.  “Cover your clone in the seed that made it.  Let me have some of your milk now.  I want— fuck—”

His hole clamped even tighter on my knot, pulsing as he blew his load with violent force, the first shot hitting me in the face, and the subsequent ones overshooting my head to splatter across the sheets, pillows, and back wall behind me.

“Fuck,” he said, echoing me, almost wincing.  His hole continued to throb as his body tried to push out my knot, the thickness lodged inside him surely uncomfortable as his refractory period set in.  “You really are thick.”

I put my hands on his hips and stroked his sides to try and help soothe him.

Carvil leaned into me, stroking himself as he looked up at the boss.  “Should I add my load to the pile, sir?”

“No, I’m done here.”  My progenitor was pushing himself up to get off me.  My cock throbbed as his hole tried to tug free of my knot.  “I’m—ow!—going to go clean up.  You can introduce this one to his quarters afterwards.”  The ow was my knot clearing his poor anus, which gaped open for a few moments as he finished speaking, my cumload bubbling slowly out of him and landing across my crotch and the bedsheets.

He didn’t bother dressing as he left.  Clearly tidying up after himself was someone else’s job.

As I watched him go, a firm tongue ran across my cheek, Carvil licking his boss’s cum from my face.  “C’mon,” he said.  “I’ll show you to your room.”

❧

‘My room’ was bare-bones:  freshly-painted white walls, a view of the forest, and only a bed in the corner.

“Welcome home,” Carvil said.  “Our guys will bring your stuff from your old place tomorrow.  In the meantime—”

I was already on the bed, beckoning him to join me.  “I think I’m going to like it here,” I said, kissing him deeply as he teased my nipples again.  “Let’s break this place in.”

❧

I was up early as usual to catch the 75 bus into town. It was dark even for the hour, rainy and overcast.

The bus stop offered shelter at least; a little blue structure whose graffitied walls were spangled with random band logo stickers. I seated myself wearily, thankful for the rest. I’d been so worn out lately, extra hours and stress at work leaving me with little energy to do more than doomscroll over delivery dinner at home—and the oppressive humid heat of late summer was not making it any easier.

This time of day, this far out of town, the buses are an hour apart and often far from their schedule, so if I’m not early I might miss it, but usually I have to wait. Today was a waiting day.

This time of day, this far out of town, it’s usually just me at this stop. Today there came a stranger.

He was a tall, tawny wolf in a gray rain poncho with the hood up, looming over the bus shelter like a specter. Unlike a specter, though, this guy was solid, built solid—not bodybuilder-bulky, but like the kind of guy that my-dad-could-beat-up-your-dad boasts are about.

Yeah, he was hot, but I wasn’t going to stare or anything.

He was staring at me, though.

I was a considerably more…marshmallowy example of the species, sure, but nothing for the record books; I might usually be the fattest person in the room these days but I wouldn’t be the fattest person you’d see all day or anything. And I wouldn’t say there was much else visually distinctive about me.

I couldn’t tell why he would be staring at me the way he was—I couldn’t read his expression. It didn’t look like malice or contempt or (hah) lust…

“You’re Quintus,” he said, like I was someone he’d been looking for. Oh. The expression had been ‘scrutiny’.

I wasn’t about to confirm his guess. Luckily the bus was arriving so I stood up and walked to the curb, giving the wolf an I-don’t-know-what-you-mean sort of look as I passed by him.

Of course, he boarded right after me.

Of course, he took a seat right behind mine.

Now I was nervous.

I should say something to the bus driver, I thought. Get up and sit closer to the front, for protection.

I braced for the guy to say or do anything creepy, but he seemed to be keeping to himself, which was almost worse.

More people boarded the bus as it progressed into the city. As benches filled, someone took the seat next to mine. I tensed at first, but it was only a cheetah I recognized from previous commutes.

I felt safer as the bus got more crowded. Surely the guy wouldn’t try anything in front of so many witnesses.

Of course, I’d have to disembark soon. And, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for him to know where I usually get off. So the next time someone pulled a stop, I squeezed through the crowd and escaped to the street.

The wolf didn’t try to follow.

Well, fuck, I thought. There’s no way he just let me go, so that just means he knows where I’m going already. And he’ll get there first and he’ll ambush me at work and…

I tried to quell my anxiety as I hopped on the next bus, but the ride was uneventful, so there was nothing to distract me from imagining what worst-case scenarios were in store for me.

Nothing continued to happen as I got off at Quinault Plaza. Nothing but the everyday crowds as I walked the last block and a half to the white painted-brick building between “Bagels, Baby!” and a Starbucks, where I got paid mostly to keep a chair warm unless someone’s computer decided to break down.

I didn’t make it, of course. I was pulled into an alley and silenced before I could cry out, a big feline paw covering my muzzle. Not the wolf—I hadn’t even considered he would have an accomplice. The two of them handcuffed my paws behind my back and marched me into a van behind the building.

No one walking by the alleymouth took any notice of my struggle.

They didn’t blindfold me; the back of the van had no view to the outside in any case, and the tiger who had grabbed me kept a sullen eye on me as we rode on.

They weren’t waving weapons at me, at least. Either they wanted me intact or they knew I had all the martial prowess of a pet rock.

After a few abortive attempts to get any information out of the tiger, I gave up and leaned back in my seat, letting the stop-and-go traffic lull me to sleep.

❧

The tiger shook me awake. The van had arrived in an underground parking garage, but something seemed off about it. We walked past several rows of glittering cars before I noticed that they were glittering, all polished to shine, and even without being a Car Guy I could tell everything was expensive.

And the ‘off’ thing about the garage was that it was the same way. This was no public space—someone owned all these cars. Someone who liked showing off that they could keep concrete spotless. Someone who hired these goons.

So what did they want with me?

❧

An elevator. A hallway. A bedroom, well appointed but with no trace of personality—a guest room, then.

The wolf took a seat in a corner, arms crossed. The tiger left, presumably to fetch the head honcho.

The goons had said nothing to each other; the wolf just gestured disinterestedly when I tried to ask him for anything. Fine, whatever.

I sat on the bed. Wolf goon pulled out his phone and started playing some mobile game. Still being cuffed, I couldn’t join him.

After three tinny level-clear fanfares had sounded across the room, the door opened again, letting in…

Well, he was also a wolf, but that wasn’t the striking thing. It was the family resemblance that got me. He could’ve been my older, slenderer brother.

He strode up to me with the confidence of someone who could easily own any ground he walked on and immediately laid his paws on my soft chest, stroking over my moobs experimentally. “Exquisite!”

“Um, excuse me?” I said.

“Oh, you’re the first one who’s turned out fat like this! I love it!”

I squirmed a bit, trying to get out of his grip, but his paws moved down to stroke the sides of my belly.

“The ‘first one’?” I said. “The first what?”

“Oh, you’re one of my clones,” he said, though his attention didn’t stray from my gut. “Fully my property, fully my pleasure. Fascinating to see the ways one could have turned out, isn’t it?”

He tried to lift my shirt, but here I really pushed back, trying to roll off the bed and push him away with my feet.

The goon was there in an instant, grabbing my legs and forcing them down. He was exactly as strong as he looked—I wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m not your toy, dude,” I said.

“That’s exactly what you are. Custom-built for the purpose.” He reached under the bed and pulled out a long bar, handing it off to the goon.

“All I’ve got is your word on that,” I said, still fruitlessly trying to break free.

They clearly didn’t care whether I was convinced. The goon fastened my ankles to either end of the bar, spreading them apart, and went back to his game.

My captor returned his attentions to my belly now that I was incapable of any resistance beside weak wriggling. He tore into my shirt with his claws and exposed the fur beneath.

“Oh, I can’t get enough of this!”

In any other circumstance I would have taken this as flattery, but now that I knew this was classical narcissism, I didn’t quite feel I could take it personally. He thought he was complimenting himself.

His fingers probed the depth of my navel, his hands slid under the overhang of my belly, he gave it an experimental lift. “So deliciously soft! And speaking of delicious…”

He began to undo my pants.

This can’t be happening, I thought. People don’t just get pulled off the street by rich pervs who claim to own them. At least, not literally.

Resistance left me. Not complacency; I wasn’t okay with this. But bound hand and foot, deep in the bowels of the mansion of someone who surely had the money to disappear me outright even if his clone claim weren’t true, honestly what could I even do?

My crotch was exposed to the air now, my captor marvelling at the softness of the fatpad that had engulfed my sheath and balls.

“Fascinating to see what you’ve done with your copy of my cock,” he said, leaning in and sniffing deep. “Oh yes…that is definitely my musk…”

I flinched as his tongue slithered in to seek my buried member. I was soft, of course, so it was in there deep; given the circumstances, there was no way it was coming out to play.

He persisted though, pushing the fat back to find that buried cockhead when his tongue could only just reach the tip.

“Truly amazing… I must— I simply have to—” He pulled his pants down with one hand, the other lewdly fingering my cockcave.

I withdrew further into my head. This isn’t about me, I thought.

My captor’s dick was already throbbing hard as he kicked off his pants. Did it really look like mine? Whatever.

I might as well not even be here.

His mouth was at my crotch again, tongue exploring me more wetly this time, soaking the depth of my fatpad with spit.

I’m just a body to him.

He straddled me, hungry eyes looking down into mine as his tip ground against me, lining up between my legs. I shut my eyes.

I’m not here.

His cock sank into my fatpad, his tail thumping as he wagged hard.

He hasn’t even thought me worth telling his name.

As he started thrusting into me, my ears rebelled from listening to his delighted yips and pants and latched on to the only other sound in the room: the beep and chime of goon wolf’s game still being played in the corner of the room.

It was hardly any better; the bright chirps of progress too easily coincided with his dick bottoming out inside me, making it feel like I was the game being played, and my captor was going for a high score.

The slime of his flowing precum leaked out of my cockcave, mixed with the saliva from him eating me out, and I winced as it dripped down my balls.

I couldn’t escape the feel of him. I couldn’t escape the smell of him.

At least he was too excited to hold out for long. His breath got more ragged and his pounding harder, his knot slamming against my fatpad with every thrust before finally he froze up, cock throbbing inside me and firing his load against my buried head.

And he collapsed onto my chest, gripping me like I was just some body pillow. That’s what he made, isn’t it. An overstuffed pillow with his face on it.

❧

The goon took charge of me when my captor left to clean himself up and get back to his life. He released me from the spreader bar and marched me down to a smaller, more spartan sort of guest room: no bones about it, this would be my prison cell. It didn’t look institutional—the house had more taste than that—but someone with an eye for the creature comforts had done their best to make none of them available.

“Welcome home,” the goon began.

I didn’t catch where he was going with that, because as soon as I heard the sound of a voice that wasn’t his, I broke down immediately.

He watched me, leaning in the doorway, and watched me cry like an ugly baby for who knows how long.

But he didn’t stop me. He didn’t leave me to my misery. He just watched, and waited.

“I can’t be this,” I said, as soon as I thought I could speak coherently. “How can anyone do this? How many of us did he make?”

The wolf goon came and sat on the bed beside me. This was probably not the best move; I was trembling, I was jumpy, and I really, really could do with some alone time, if only to clean his drying cum out of my crotch.

But there was pity on his brutish face, and I had no pride left to refuse it. He put an arm around me and pulled me close to him, and I was just about ready to break down again when he started murmuring in my ear: “I’m going to leave this door unlocked. Count to 100 after I leave, and go back to the elevators. If they’re still running, it’ll be safe to meet me on floor B5. You won’t be the first who needed to run away.”

He left, and I started the most agonized counting session of my life.

1, 2, 3…

Could I trust him? Or was this some kind of entrapment? If I really was property now, he’d be risking a lot of trouble if he let me escape…and if he’d helped multiple others, as he’d suggested, the risks to him only went up.

24, 25, 26…

If it was a lie, what would they do to me? Disappearing me from the street had been nothing to them; he already thought of me as property, and he surely had the means to do anything he wanted with me.

But he was going to do whatever he wanted with me anyway.

51, 52, 53…

I’d only seen his good side, that bubbly excitement in the face of a new toy. What would he be like when he got mad?

Fuck, everything he’d inflicted on me so far was his good side.

My heart was pounding. Stay or run, either way would not be safe for me.

But if I ran, where would I go?

80, 81, 82…

I couldn’t go home. They knew where I lived, and as a clone, they’d have every right to take me from there again; ‘my’ place would be his place, after all.

I’d have to leave the country. Or go off the grid. Find a way to live incognito.

Give up everything I was, or give myself to him.

I reached 100.

I went out the door.

❧

On floor B5, the elevator door opened on a room with an enormous swimming pool, glass walls showing forested hillside outside.

Wolf goon waved me over from by one of the doors to the outside. “Go straight ahead through here. Stay under tree cover till the house is out of sight. And take this,” he said, handing me a handful of bills.

I was too overwhelmed to have a coherent emotional response. He saw me faltering and led me through the door with one big paw on my shoulder. “You’ll be all right. Live well, dude.”

I started running.

❧

“Angus, what is that?”

Thormund had caught me more or less literally with my pants down, my new toy fully applied to my crotch.

“It’s a gamertube, man. Portable toilet for those long sessions, you know? Less humiliating than a diaper,” I said pointedly, smirking as the musclechub bull blushed in remembrance of The Incident.

He looked up and down the length of it skeptically. “Uh…is that safe?”

“Totally,” I said. “We can even share, if you like. It’s got plenty of capacity.”

I lifted the length of it to show him. It was a thick tube, with a shimmery brown-and-green exterior that made you think of snakeskin. I’d picked up a little harness to secure it in place on my dick, but it wouldn’t be too hard to remove if he wanted to use it.

“I’ll, uh, think about it. You’re wearing that tonight?”

“Don’t see why not. It’s just you and me, and it ain’t nothin’ you ain’t seen already.”

It was already getting dark by the time the bull finished enough of his coursework to join me in the game room for the night.

“You’re, uh, goin’ full in on that, aren’t ya?”

I’d given the gamertube a couple bladderloads in the intervening time, but it wasn’t like you’d notice. I ignored him and leaned back in my chair, making sure the whole apparatus was fully shown off as I focused on my match.

Thormund sighed, grabbed his controller, and logged in at his own desk beside mine.

I slid him an energy drink. I figured he’d come around to it soon.

“I can’t believe these guys,” he said, growling as he failed out of a match. “Pass the tube, will ya?”

“Won you over, did I?”

“No, but I’ve gotta piss and it’s right there, ain’t it? C’mon, only a minute till the next match starts.”

I smirked and undid the tube from its harness, handing it over to Thormund, who looked at it and shrugged while he undid his pants with his free hand. (I’m so jealous of his dick—how thick it is!—but he wasn’t really into me these days. We’d jerk off together sometimes but that’s as far as it usually went.)

The bull shoved his meat into the mouth of the tube, visibly stretching it. (Such jealousy.) With a yelp he noticed the next round’s countdown reaching zero, and he grabbed his controller again to focus on the screen, gamertube squeezed between his thighs. “Feels really good, actually. Lemme guess, you jerk off with it too?”

“Naturally.”

He smirked, then let out a deep sigh as his piss started to flow. The tube did its job; not a drop escaped around the snug fit between its opening and Thormund’s cock as the bull focused on his game.

He didn’t win, but he hadn’t been winning much anyway.

I snuck an opportunity during a long round to grab the tube back, with a loud schlorp as it released Thormund’s member.

“Hey!”

“Didn’t say you could hog it, buddy. You ain’t the only one with a bladder around here.”

I secured it back to my crotch harness, feeding my junk back in and releasing a full load immediately. I tried not to get hard as I thought about how much of Thormund’s piss I was adding to, how much heavier the tube was since I let him use it, how slick and wet it was…

So much for not gettin’ hard, I thought. I tossed my controller on the desk and leaned back in my chair, lifting the tube and grabbing it in both hands to start jerking off with it.

The tube was made for this sort of thing, of course; it only spilled back a little piss back over my crotch, but that made for good enough lube to hump into it.

Thormund was so focused on his match that it took a minute to notice, but when he did— “Sweet Anubis, Angus!”

“What?” I said, not even pretending to be innocent as I pounded the tube. “Nothing I wouldn’t be doing in the bathroom, right?”

“With our toilet?” The bull spluttered, then softened. “Fair enough, no kinkshame.”

Visibly breaking it in seemed to help; Thormund took the opportunity to milk out a load of his own next time he had it. He was a lot more discreet about it, to be sure, but I got through three matches while he had his controller down, so it wasn’t too hard to figure out what he was doing. I didn’t say anything about it—I wanted him to feel comfortable, and the more comfortable the better.

I knew what I was hoping would happen.

And a little while later, not long after 1 a.m., when I was pounding down another energy drink because I was starting to flag, Thormund turned to me a bit shy, fidgeting in his seat.

I started pulling the tube out of its harness, but before I could finish, the bull asked, “Hey, um. You…you didn’t say it was a urinal, you said it was a toilet. Does that mean…”

His eartips blushed bright, and I couldn’t help but grin. There we go.

I reached down to unshackle the harness from around my waist. “You’ll probably want to use this to keep it in place,” I said. In addition to the setup to connect the tube to the front of it, the harness had a more interesting arrangement around back to hold the tube firmly in place—a guy might want a bit of leeway to hump in and out of it from the front, but when it comes to taking a dump most people really want that kind of thing to be secure. The tube was rather sloshy at this point, but probably had plenty of capacity left.

“Uh…okay.” He held the harness up in front of him and I helped him make sure the tube was fixed in place before he clicked it on. “It doesn’t feel like it’s…quite right?”

I reached back and pushed the tube till its opening was between the bull’s cheeks, and then just a little further for his hole to open up around it. “Better?”

He blushed even harder. It wasn’t the first time I’d stuffed something up his ass, but we hadn’t done anything like that in a while. “A little…? I still don’t think it’ll stay in place.”

“Just sit on it.”

Thormund frowned and straddled his chair, sliding the gamertube between his legs and along the length of the seat, and taking a seat on it, keeping it in place with his weight.

“There you go. Enjoy!”

The bull ignored me and leaned on his desk, grunting as he tried to unload, eyes closed as if to pretend I wasn’t there. I didn’t press him; I was too happy to see him having fun. Well, to see him having a dump, but you’ve probably guessed by now that that’s fun as far as I’m concerned. If this was as close as I ever got to filthy times with Thormund, it’d still be pretty hot.

I was surprised at how long he was at it. Certainly it should only be able to take so much at once. But that’s not where my imagination went. I thought about the big bull sitting in his chair, unloading turd after turd after turd for hours on end, the tube getting fuller and fuller, stretching out to frankly ridiculous proportions…

I jerked awake, nearly falling out of my chair, my cock rock solid even though I’d already blown a load tonight. And the sight in front of me was one I wanted to kick myself for dozing off to: Thormund was pawing off.

The scent of his masculinity, mixed with leftover piss from being in the tube earlier; the thickness of his shaft, wet with copious precum as he stroked himself slowly; the squeak of his chair as he ground his hips against it, stimulating himself on the tube in his ass—the spectacle was arresting.

He noticed my movement and said “Hey there, sleepygoat.” It came out with a bit of a gasp, and slowly and firmly he gave his cock three more strokes; I could tell he was getting close. “While I’m—doing stuff I don’t usually do—” He milked a big drop of precum from his cockhead. “…don’t suppose you’d want this load?”

I was on my knees immediately, open mouth ready for the bull’s seed. The bulging gamertube still hung between his legs, and I would have loved to do my best impression of it for him—to latch on to the bull’s shaft and swallow down everything he had—but we’d established I’d need more explicit consent from him for that. So I only waited, bracing myself on his thighs. I tasted his scent as I watched him work himself—that warm, musky meat, the tang of his piss, the familiar aftersmell of his shit reminding me that the whole load that had been in his bowels was still right here in the tube in front of me.

I quivered with how close to orgasm I was already, even just a few moments after waking, jerking off between Thormund’s legs. I held tighter to the bull’s thigh to keep myself upright but was interrupted by his first shot, a monstrous blast of seed that coated the roof of my mouth and then fired up my nostril as he lost control of it.

The second shot was better aimed, pointed down to splat across my tongue, and I quickly gulped down what I could before the next salvo—when he grabbed hold of my muzzle and just let loose shot after shot with the productivity of the good breeding stock he was.

Being unable to take that dick in my mouth, I couldn’t keep up; Thormund’s seed was spilling out of my mouth and soaking my facefur in moments, but I didn’t care. There’s a joy in service sometimes that’s so great that your own climax hardly compares.

I sat back a little awkwardly into the space under his desk, smiling up at him as he recovered himself.

“I might need a round with the tube for cleanup,” I said.

Thormund smirked. “Me first.” He stood up and reached behind him, carefully extracting the end of the tube from his rump, doffing the whole harness assembly, and stuffing his cock in the end of it to wring his last drops of cum out.

Given the usage the tube had undergone for the past however-long-it-was in the bull’s ass, it was surprising how little mess it was covered in, unless perhaps its color pattern was just camouflaging it out. Thormund didn’t even act like he was handling anything particularly filthy when he handed it back to me.

It was a mess, to be sure; the mouth of the tube was noticeably slacker than it’d been at the beginning of the night, but though it’d gone through a lot of stretching, fortunately it didn’t seem to be torn anywhere.

I fastened the harness back around my waist and fed my cock back into the tube. It was so much heavier now, this tube hanging off my crotch full of our piss and shit and cum; definitely worth every favor I’d traded to have the use of it.

“Think we still have a couple hours left in us before we have to crash for the night?” Thormund said, picking up his controller again.

“Fine by me.” I looked down at the tube, stroking it slightly—not to milk myself, this time, just to encourage it a bit as it looked up at me with that look of dreamy contentment it’d been wearing most of the night—and then I returned to ignoring it, logging in for a new round. “We had another case of drinks left, didn’t we?”

I tell ya, you never know what a new day’s gonna bring ya, not even if yer life’s the same day in and day out. The world just finds a way to throw new stuff at ya.

My favorite day like that happened not too long ago. I’m not too long out of school here—Pa’s still callin’ me College Boy—and I’m still on the ‘farm’ doin’ odd jobs for the family, mostly paperwork. (Pa always calls it the farm even though he never touched neither livestock nor agriculture. He just wanted a house in the country, and this one just happened to have a big red barn on the premises.)

Anyways, we were drivin’ back from Parsons’ with the weekly groceries, about fifteen minutes out and the town no longer in view, when I caught sight of what looked like a big ol’ snowball rolled up by the side of the road.

O’ course it was the warm side of May already; there wouldn’t be any snowballs this time of year. I asked Pa to pull over, and we hopped out to investigate.

As I thought, the ‘snowball’ was no snow. What we had before us was a big waist-high mound of somethin’ covered in pure white fur.

“Oh,” Pa said. “One of those.”

“Whatcha mean, Pa?”

He shook his head, no doubt runnin’ the usual rant in his head about ‘Didn’t They Teach You Nothin’ At That School, College Boy.’ You know the one.

But he only let out a sigh and started climbin’ back into the truck. He started runnin’ it, so I had to jump in as well.

“It’s one o’ them…fatballs.”

He spat out the word with the kind of contempt he generally reserved for the mythical blue-furred Millennial he thought still haunted college campuses. He saw my blank look though, and went on:

“People who give up being people, give up life an’ limb to be freak sex toys for other freaks.”

It sounded like one of those urban legends, but he was actually pretty mad about it, so I just said ‘mm’, turned on the radio, and paid the strange ball of fur no further mind.

The next day though, I was driving back into town to fetch a parcel from the post office, and it was still there—a good deal closer to the road than last time. I worried it might end up in the street and get run over; pervert or no, nobody deserved that, so I pulled up alongside to see if I could give it a roll in a safer direction.

The mound of fur didn’t seem to respond to my approach, and I worried if it were okay to move it. No sense tryin’ to save a thing from one ill only to lose it to another. I’d forgotten to learn about people like this the night before, and the weight of my ignorance prompted me to pull out my phone.

Fatballs. The search engine was useless; half porn sites, half shopping. Fatballs wiki, I tried. First result was a fan site, some kind of catalogue of favorites. The second was actual Wikipedia:

Fatball modification is a magical[1] procedure whereby a person’s head, tail, and other limbs are removed or absorbed, and their bones extracted or dissolved, leaving only a softened torso[2][3]. In most patients who choose the procedure, the remaining mass is mostly fat, either from their prior life or post-conversion feeding.[4]

There was a photo of a round ball of tiger-striped fur.

Almost all[5][6][7][note 1] fatball modifications are pursued as part of a fetish lifestyle, and as a class fatballs have won the right in most Western countries to be treated as objects, surrendering the right of usufruct to their owners. Exceptions, such as fatballs confirmed converted by rogue practitioners, are marked with a tattoo or sure-dye on their topside as well as at every orifice.

There was a world map where countries and territories were labeled different colors for the status of unmarked fatballs: “property with usufruct surrendered”, “property with usufruct and abusus surrendered”, “citizens, but procedure legal”, and “citizens and procedure illegal”. Illustrations of the franchise marks.

I looked over the ball of fur. It was—well, not pure white, after rollin’ in the dust and dirt these past few days, but it was definitely unmarked.

“I guess you’re mine now,” I said, touching its softness for the first time. “Finders keepers, they say.”

It was a good deal of effort to load my new Snowball onto the truck. I had the ramp, so I could just roll it in, but it must’ve weighed hundreds of pounds. The last time I’d seen a belly anywhere near this big was on one of my college math teachers, Mr. Cartmile, a gator who would sometimes fall asleep after giving his lecture. And he must’ve been at least 600 lbs by the way he moved; even with half its body gone, my Snowball could easily outweigh me by more than double.

Luckily Pa was out when I pulled up to the farmhouse—a note on the door said he’d gone to help the neighbors—so I didn’t have to worry about being seen while rolling the round body of the polar bear off the truck, through the front door, and all the way back to my bedroom.

The ball of fat looked a lot bigger here, indoors among my stuff, than it did out under the open sky.

Pa will kill me if he sees this.

I grabbed a spare blanket and covered my Snowball, making it look something like a big bean bag. If he asks, I’ll tell him my old roommate sent it to me.

And after a moment of considering it, I took a seat.

The fatball was soft and yielding under my rump—comfortable, even. For me, anyway. How must it feel?

I pulled out my phone to check my messages. At the top of the list: A new device has tried to connect.

‘Polarball.’ Didn’t take a lot of imagination to guess what that meant. Some fatballs, I’d read, were into the sensory deprivation that comes with having one’s head removed, but a lot of them took implants that let them go online.

I accepted the connection, was prompted to download the app, and I was in.

Welcome, $owner.

There was a setup button, which came with a prewritten note from my new fatball:

Hello. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time. You and me won’t meet as people; I wanted to be, as much as possible, an object to be owned. I give you the gift of my body, and I hope you enjoy it.

An illegible signature was below.

It didn’t look like there was any way to access the mind inside; a lot of the possible options were grayed out. I did rename it though—unoriginal as it was, it was already Snowball to me.

I wondered whether my Snowball would know its new name, or if its will had been to keep it oblivious. If it wants to be an object, though, it probably doesn’t want me to think about its wishes.

So I didn’t. I sat on my nice comfortable Snowball and worked on job applications till Pa was ready for dinner.

I was antsy all through the evening, of course, both with the anticipation of alone time with my new toy, and with fear that Pa would find out. If I’d had to hold up conversation myself, I’m sure I would’ve given myself away, but lucky for me Pa was otherwise occupied. All through dinner he was grumbling about spending most of the day tracking down a wild hog that one of Mrs. K’s grandkids had let out of their pens, and I let him go on, and then he said he needed to unwind, so he went off to watch a game and I went back to my room to give him some peace.

I tried not to think about Snowball—it wouldn’t be safe to play with till Pa was asleep—but I was tenting my shorts anyway. That I could feel this way about something so soon after hearing about them for the first time was a bit of a surprise. Sure, I’d enjoyed a lot of porn in college, but I never thought I’d be into anything kinky.

And now here I was, ready to sink my dick into a living ball of fat, an object that had once been a person. That still had a person inside, really.

Someone that wanted to be a sex object, to surrender any other option other than to be used by whoever wanted to get off… Hole worn out? Too bad. Dick too big? Too bad. Your new owner fresh out of college and too inexperienced to be any good at sex? Oh well…

I might’ve started worrying then, but I broke it down: either I accepted the framing, and this was my toy, and that was that…

Or Pa was right, and this was just a perv and a slut who deserved everything he got.

Either way, I’d be unloading in that hole tonight.

I couldn’t help it; I was stroking myself, eager to get off. Waiting, listening—

Pa’s steps came down the hall. I pulled my paw from my pants and pretended to be studying when he came by the door.

“Gonna turn in for the night. Sleep well, son.”

“Good night, Pa.”

Step, step, step step…click.

Silence for a while.

I stroked my cock through my pants, cautious, waiting…

Then came the heavy snoring of a big badger man.

Quietly I moved to the door, shut and locked it, and tore off all my clothes.

I was still scared to pull the blanket off my Snowball. If Pa woke up, I’d have a lot more explaining to do if I was humping something that was visibly the fatball he’d seen in the street. So I pulled a corner back and felt around for its hole.

Warmth and softness yielded to my fingers.

Huff.

I grabbed a tub of pawing lube from my bag and greased up a couple fingers with it so I could test the former bear’s hole for depth and readiness.

Regardless of how long it must’ve been for it, however long it’d been lying in the street, my fingers sank in easily. When they bottomed out, the fatball’s ring squeezed them encouragingly—letting me know, for the first time, that it knew I was there.

I straddled the ball of soft fur buried under the blanket and lined up my shaft, greasing it up before plunging the whole of it in.

I trembled at how good it felt, taking as much of the fatball in my arms as I could and squeezing it to me, rolling over with it as I humped in, the musky scent of sex enveloping us, bear and badger, ass and grease lube. I tried to keep quiet in my worry of waking Pa, but it really was too intense to hold back; I could only pray he was sleeping sound tonight.

And then the fatball climaxed. There was no outward sign—no limbs to tense up, no cries of pleasure, no release of cum—but my cock buried deep in its hole felt it, the fluttering of pulsing muscle all down my length as my thrusts pushed it over the edge.

But that was just my toy. I wasn’t done yet.

I rolled over on top of the ex-bear, slamming in with my weight as I got myself close, gasping as my ball of fat sloshed under me, each movement bringing more of that sweet soft hole before finally I pushed in hard, balls tight and unloading the first of what I hoped would be many loads into my new toy.

And I just lay there, on its softness, sleepy and recovering my breath, till I figured I should be getting ready for bed.

I pulled my softening cock out of the toy, pulled the blanket back into place covering it, and crashed hard for the night.

A quiet evening in, listening to the rain and far-off thunder as I sat on my couch, eyes closed to bar any distraction as I practiced my telepathy.

The diviners had told me my powers lay elsewhere; something to do with mathematics utterly outside of any of my interests. But I wanted telepathy. Something about that intimate intermixing of minds, the sharing of thoughts and dreams and selves…

And no one ever said it was impossible. So I practiced.

I’d never made a full connection before, but I was sure I’d felt minds out there sometimes. Flashes of emotion—of solitude, of inquiry, of contempt—that came just in reach only to flutter from my mind’s reach in the space of a moment.

It was progress. It was encouraging. So I practiced.

Today, however, things were coming up dry. I was straining my mind to the limit and still couldn’t feel the touch of a thought; I shivered, feeling alone in the world.

But when I gave up and opened my eyes, he was standing in front of me.

‘He’ was all I could make out about him. A silhouette, a shadow, just a vague dark gray suggestion of someone with a masculine bearing.

“You were looking for me?” he said.

I faltered. “Um, not specifically. I was just…testing what I could do. I’m sorry I bothered you…”

The presence did not accept the apology; he only stepped closer, bending down to look me in the eye, or at least as close to that as a featureless form could manage. His voice, when he spoke again, had the trace of a smirk in it.

“Oh…have we been dabbling?” There was a movement in the shadow that looked like the swish of a tail. “Haven’t you been told how dangerous that is?”

His voice was not at all pleasant; there was a touch of a whine to it, that inflection you find in people who get their way all the time by being petty.

“It can’t be that dangerous,” I said, though I was less sure as I said it.

The presence laughed. “There are worse things than friendly neighbors out there, mousie. The world is full of monsters. And victims of monsters. And me.”

The shadow smiled, a visible smile, carnivore teeth prominent in an otherwise blank face.

“But by all means. Tell me I’m not dangerous.”

I wasn’t sure what was standing in my living room, but I could certainly tell it was not a good idea to be alone in a room with him.

I tried to get up from the couch, but was immediately shoved back down. He was quite solid now, not fully real yet but features still emerging—russet fur and white garbed in a gray robe, pointed muzzle, shining amber eyes, and a handful of tails swishing behind him: a fox spirit.

There are a handful of probabilities in the world that are so unlikely that you round them down to nothing. Having your house burn down while you’re at the grocery store. Struck by lightning at home. Dying at 20. And yet those things still happen; a low probability isn’t nothing, even if our primitive brains pretend otherwise to get through the day.

A demon finding its way into your living room is one of those one-in-a-million events that you don’t even think about preparing for.

I was unprepared.

A frosty touch at my throat cut my voice, and my yelp of distress was silenced.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I can hear your thoughts still.”

Cruelty, I thought. The frosty touch moved upward, the fox’s paw turning spectral again and passing through my skull, rummaging in my head. What do I know about demons? Infinite punishment for any transgression, however slight; a hell built from your guilt, your fears, your—

There was a kind of click as the fox pulled something from my head, dropping it on the ground. “That’s no fun. You won’t need that.”

The chill touch entered my brain again. What do I know about demons? …‘Demons’? Did I hear that word in someone’s mind? Maybe I’ll look it up later.

My mind tingled with more click click click as the fox pulled more things out of my head. I wondered what he was doing.

“Just helping you relax. The ol’ ‘telling people not to fear’ doesn’t work as well as it used to. Don’t worry about it.” He smirked, and his touch changed temperature—somehow I couldn’t tell whether it was hotter or colder but it was uncomfortable. “Yeah, this might hurt a little bit.”

He pulled something out of his robe and fitted into my brain with a hefty-sounding chunk that made me queasy for a moment. So kind of this guy to help me out with a little brainwork.

Another chunk and my whole body convulsed as though I were in the middle of losing my lunch, but it passed almost immediately. My friend Kerbery has always taken such good care of me.

Chunk. Chunk. Chunk. I’m sure I remembered actually bending over and vomiting at this point, but that would have been impossible, as I also remember Kerbery finishing up in my head and sitting down on the couch beside me, solid again.

“There. You should be much more in order now. Time to try the telepathy again?”

That smirk of his never did go away. I always figured it was just a fox thing.

I shut my eyes and went into the place in my mind where I thought the power must be, and I thought hard about other minds.

And one was right there. My good friend Kerbery. His figure stood in my mind’s eye on a field of eigengrau and murky purple and I approached him excitedly. Kerb? Is that you?

Yes, it’s me. And then, through my ears and not my mind: “Yes, it’s me.”

Hell yeah! I thought, and his smirk widened with a soft laugh. What? What’s so funny, Kerb?

His image in my mind raised an eyebrow. His voice in my ear again: “You’ll see.”

I tried to solve the riddle, but couldn’t. What was he thinking? Why did—

Wait. Why can’t I tell what you’re thinking?

His voice was near enough to make my earfur shiver. “You’re not in my mind. You brought me into yours.”

I tried to pull back, to open my eyes, but my living body wouldn’t respond—only the avatar in my head stepped back away from Kerbery’s. I was watching this scene from outside now, like in a dream: in the shadow of the fox was myself, a small soft mouse, absolutely naked.

And there was another voice, off somewhere behind me—a gruff, masculine voice, but nevertheless a young one, though I couldn’t make out any words.

I reached out for his mind, willing myself to hear his thoughts, willing myself closer to him.

From the darkness in my mind’s eye he emerged, a burly gray wolf in a KCU jacket, looking me up and down with an expression that was immediately disdainful.

And despite clearly having contact with his mind, I didn’t know who he was or what he was thinking…until he said it out loud:

Why the fuck are you jerking off at me? he said, in a tone so rough I was surprised an f-word wasn’t spit out after it.

Of course I was more surprised to find that I was jerking off at him—my left arm working my cock so hard it was a wonder I hadn’t noticed before looking down.

And it wouldn’t stop.

Trying to still my paw didn’t work, trying to grab my arm with my other paw and pull it away didn’t work. It only got worse: I was drooling after him, I couldn’t stop staring, I was panting hard like I was about to climax, all while the wolf watched me with growing repugnance.

Oh, there you are.

Kerb appeared alongside us, watching the scene with that smirk of his.

What’s his problem? the wolf asked.

He’s just so happy to be making contact.

I couldn’t blame them for talking about me like I wasn’t there, because in an obvious sense I wasn’t. I couldn’t even speak.

Somewhere in the real world, Kerb’s paw grabbed hold of my dick and started stroking it. My avatar in the mindspace shivered, ready to unload all over this poor stranger who didn’t deserve it.

Help, I thought. Helpless in my mind, helpless in my body, I tried calling to another mind. Help!

More people emerged from the murk. An older tiger in a shabby T-shirt who burst out laughing as soon as he caught sight of me. A very fat hawk who averted his eyes, hiding behind his wing. An otter in a red dress who immediately focused on Kerb, watching him carefully as she waved a handpaw to make herself disappear back into the murk.

Kerb stroked my real cock harder while I squirmed helplessly in my seat, the sensation combining with what was going on in my head and pushing me over the edge.

In the real world my usual four shots of cum were striping my belly, but in mindspace I was blasting the crowd of strangers with mouse spunk like an obscene firehose.

In helpless panic I watched as my avatar turned to make sure everyone got painted with it, heedless of their reactions as I violated their dignity. I shuddered to think of meeting any of them in the real world, knowing they’d been in my head, knowing they’d seen everything. Would they call the police? Or retaliate with their own hands?

This had to stop. Kerbery! Help!

I felt the words and thoughts going nowhere again, even though my friend was right next to me—but still he reached down and took hold of my chin, giving me a smile. What was that again, mousie? he said. I couldn’t hear you.

Before I could answer, though, he went on, moving my mouth with his paw and making an imitation of my voice: Kerbery! Fuck me!

I was a little queasy again as he carried on this conversation with himself using this image of my body.

What? In front of all these people?

Please!

Kerb came closer, waving the helpless onlookers back a step as he stood behind me. Don’t worry. I’ll soon have him sorted out.

That smirk on his face. Foxes always have to look cunning for the crowd, don’t they? He wanted them to think he was patronizing me, but his arousal was prodding at my back through his robe.

He brought his muzzle to my ear and his whisper came to it only in the real world: “I’m already deep in your mind. But you want me deeper? Deeper inside you?”

A tantalizing touch on my spent cock brought it back to full stiffness despite just having unloaded it.

“I want to hear you say it.”

He didn’t even need to make the words for me. “Yes, yes!” Of course I wanted it. Kerbery would know what was best for me even if I wasn’t feeling hornier than I’d ever been.

Kerbery entered me.

Not with the cock I was hungering for—his whole body took its spirit form again and passed into me, filling my avatar and my mind.

There was so much of him, there was barely any room for me. My consciousness subsumed into his, a sensation that couldn’t possibly have felt like the pain of being dissolved alive in acid, because Kerb wouldn’t do that to me. That memory must have come from somewhere else.

No, Kerb felt good, so I must be feeling good. He was me now, after all. Something about that intimate intermixing of minds, the sharing of thoughts and dreams and selves…

Well, that was impossible, after all.

The dream world faded from Kerb’s mind, the cum-drenched onlookers dissolving into echoes I still think I hear sometimes.

Kerb awakened, looking at the thunderstorm out of the eyes of a small soft mouse with an irrepressible smirk on his face.

Such good fun, he thought, cleaning the cum off his belly.

I’d barely come home from work before my bear was trying to foist the new diapers on me.

“Strip. Pad. Now.”

I ignored the orders, put down my briefcase and gave him a kiss. “I love you too,” I said. “Shall we head to the bedroom then?”

“Only if you strip as you go. I want you in these ASAP, cubby.”

Rich was not usually so enthusiastic about diapers; I wondered what he had in mind he was so excited about. By the time I reached the end of the hall, he was halfway through pulling my pants down; we stumbled onto the bed together, his face planted in my porcine ass.

“Diaper!” he said, nomfing playfully at my cheeks before swatting at my rump with the padding. “C’mon, you’re gonna love these.”

“Okay, okay, I give up! Here, let me get on my back.”

I rolled over and lifted up my legs, giving my bear access to pad me up.

He slid the diaper under my butt and taped it up with practiced ease.

“What, no stuffers? No cage? No powder even?”

“Very specifically none of those! You need direct contact with diaperfluff and plenty of penis room.” He chuckled and buried his snout in my diaperfront, the attention making me stiffen even given how silly he was being. “And then the final ingredient!” he said, “baby wet time!”

I gasped as my body reacted to the hypno trigger, filling my brain with cubby feeling and making me lose control of my bladder. The piss flowing through my hard cock had the diaper soaked in moments while I whimpered for ‘daddy’.

He held his paw on my diaperfront, feeling it grow warm with fresh piss. His eyes shone from how much I had to give, the diaper swelling fuller and rounder and heavier between my legs.

“Daddy…”

“Mm, look at that diaper bulge grow…”

I looked down to see the swelling plastic. It reminded me of those oversized novelty diapers that are designed just to be big on you. I was surprised as my stream of piss kept going, minute after minute, my bear fawning over me till it finally tapered off.

“Daddy Rich’s boy is so big… Imagine if this was all you, piglet. Just a thin layer of padding over…” He laid a paw on the front of my diaper and I gasped, feeling his touch much sooner than I expected. He continued in a whisper: “…over such a big boy’s toy…”

My new massive cock was heavy between my legs, almost as heavy as the piss-soaked diaper had been. I couldn’t help but give it a couple of experimental flexes—even soft, it gave the padding substantial movement.

“Luckily that thin diaper is super absorbent for baby wet time…” he said.

I covered my face, blushing as the flow began anew—harder and faster now that I had a bigger hose. The piss sloshed around inside the diaper, soaking my undersides before the padding could absorb it all. I hoped I wasn’t leaking. “Daddy…!” I protested.

But Rich’s focus was only on the diaper, watching it swell even further with my piss—it was full-on the size of a beach ball by now, and so heavy I could barely move under it. “Look at that bulge!” he repeated. “So proud of my big big piglet.”

He spread his arms around the mound of diaper and hugged it to him, but again it was me in his embrace, the monstrous growth of cock only barely contained by such a thin diaper. I couldn’t help but be turned on by how big it must be now—surely as big as my torso at least.

Rich saw me reaching for it and let go of me to come lie by my side. “No, baby doesn’t get to play yet… Not till it’s time to change you… One more round of baby wet time should do it…”

Whimpered oinks as my cock unloaded once more, an audible gush of piss soaking the diaper beyond capacity and spilling out over my legs and the bed. My bear seemed unconcerned, only rubbing my belly and watching as the diaper grew, the bulge of padding encroaching on my knees. The bulk of it was heavy on my legs, sloshy at first but slowly firming up as the diaper’s magic took hold, piss and padding becoming penis.

“That’s my baby,” Rich said, kissing my nose and moving back down to play with his new toy. “Look at this big fat diaper cock.”

He lifted it in his arms and I yelped with alarm at a new sensation: this wasn’t just a diaper full of my cock.

Somehow the diaper was my cock.

My bear hugged my swelling shaft as it rose higher and higher—already almost as big as he was—the bristle of his fur rubbing against its new plastic skin.

“D-Daddy…!” I whimpered, a powerful fear in the peak of my stomach making me feel even more cubby. Transformations could be dangerous. My Daddy had changed me, my Daddy was in control, and I didn’t know what was going to happen. How could I go back to work like this?

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said, face pressed into the white plastic column of dick, snoofing deep the scent of my padding. My padding. “It should wear off when you sleep.”

I looked up at the massive phallus, which was somehow becoming both more diaperlike and more penislike at the same time. Not anything like my old penis—I never had such a broad mushroom head, nor such prominent veins—and not anything like the old diaper, either. The original had been a simple, classic white, while my new cock was developing a multicolored pattern of bear pawprints, each about the size of Rich’s big paws. The aforementioned veins bulged out further as I watched them, a line of bright blue tapes appearing up their lengths.

And the whole thing was heavy with piss, the bright colors dingy where the sodden padding was pressed against them.

My brain was having trouble parsing out the signals it was receiving. I felt like I was having a rock-hard boner, but that feeling didn’t align with how easily Rich could squeeze its bulk against his chest, pulling it down from its upright position to lay it between us in the bed, like a body pillow extending at least a foot or two past our heads.

I pressed a hand into the monstrous shaft. It was definitely my fully aroused penis. And a squidgy wet diaper. And there was nothing I could do about it. I pressed my face in deep, greedily inhaling the sweet scent of padding mixed with piss.

My bear did likewise on the other side of me, the both of us embracing my diapercock between us. His stiffness ground against the base of it, and I slid as much of it as I could against his body, feeling the pleasure of a dick nearly as big as I was and wondering how it worked. Could I cum from it? Or was it just a big toy now for Rich’s enjoyment?

If he knew, he wasn’t telling. We just lay there, both enjoying the feel of my new equipment, getting more and more worked up till finally Rich sat up and gave me a look that made my whole body tingle.

“I have got to use you,” he said, rolling me onto my back. “I’ve been holding it in all day.”

“What? Rich, how—”

“Baby talk time. You hush now, sweetheart.”

My protests dissolved into incoherent babbling as the trigger took effect, leaving me unable to form words and making it difficult to think any kind of grown-up thoughts—except a safeword, if needed.

But even though I was…scared at the changes my body was going through…I wanted Daddy play with me! Fun!

And then he reached down to the base of my cock and pulled at a couple of tapes.

I gasped and covered my face as a part of my body unfurled that had definitely never done that before.

My ballsack, which I’d lost sight of now that my giant diapercock was in the way, had apparently undergone some changes of its own—Daddy’s paws were stroking its outline, and through the fuzziness of baby talk time I was able to make out that it had taken on the shape of a diaper itself, and he’d just opened it up.

And then he straddled me and my giant diapercock, taping up my ballsack as a diaper around his own rump. I shivered at the new sensations. His soft fur against my inner fluff. His hard cock poking in, but softening now as he focused on…

A deep electric pleasure flooded the base of my cock as Daddy unloaded his bladder, my crotch padding soaking it up with what I could only describe as a thirst.

My body drank him in, and I tasted him with whole new senses, a bright fresh piss that was satiating even as I wanted more.

“Daddy fill me!”

“Don’t you worry, cubby. Daddy’s got plenty for you. Just you sit tight.” He rubbed my shaft encouragingly, sending even more tingles through my body—if I hadn’t been weighted down by my husbear and my giant cock, I would be writhing right now.

Still, I was panting hard, overwhelmed by the piss filling me, keenly aware that despite Daddy’s assurance, his stream was indeed easing off. “Daddy!! More!!” my baby-talk voice whined.

He only chuckled, hugging the base of my cock as he reseated himself in my diaper scrotum. I felt him grind his rump against my padding, an entirely different set of feelings opening up as his hole made contact with it.

“Here it comes, cubby…”

He must indeed have been storing it all up; a load of scat came out all in a rush, filling the base of my scrotum and making it heavy and wet.

Any doubt as to whether I could climax with my diaper cock was gone: if anything could have pushed me over the edge, that would have. I lay beneath my Daddy, mind blanked out from the pleasure of being used, but my cock only stood up at its fullest strength in his arms.

His bowel movement went on, and all I could do was savor it as what used to be my balls grew fuller and fuller with his waste; I might’ve thought I was close to leaking, but something told me the diaper magic was more capable than that.

He resumed humping at my massive shaft even before he was done unloading his bowels, his long slender shaft squelching into wetness as his ass ground firmly into the mess he was leaving behind.

“I’m Daddy’s wet messy diaper!” I said, and he tightened his grip on my diapercock even harder, the plasticky squishing sounds driving him on to hump me more desperately.

“That’s right you are,” he said, panting hard. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up with wet and mess and stickies…” He slammed into the soft padding at the base of my cock several times, clearly getting close. “And you’re gonna…be my good cub and…have baby wet time.”

His seed shooting into my diapersac was nothing compared to the release from my cock, a rush of piss gushing from it with all the intensity of climax. I soaked the wall and ceiling above the bed, the sweet scent of diaper piss filling the air as it rained down around us.

I was lost in afterglow for a bit until Rich sat up to extricate himself from my diapersac, rolling it into a ball and taping it back up. He cuddled up lying alongside me, paw at my crotch and stroking as much of me as he could reach; I tried not to think about how messy cleanup was going to be.

“Enjoyed that, piglet?”

“Yes, Daddy…”

“Good to hear, I knew you would. Looking forward to doing this again tomorrow?”

“Oink?”

His paw traced lightly through the thin fur on my chest. “Oh yes. Daddy bought you a pack of fifty, after all.”

Sometimes you want to go out and eat someone. Other times it just happens.

I was only trying to get some studying done. The dormmates were having another of their rowdy parties, so I decided to duck out and hit the library instead.

I’d never spent much time there myself; I figured it might be a little quieter. But the main floor was half taken up by the computer lab, which was stuffed with people typing away and murmuring to each other as they too tried to get work done at the end of the semester. It was no rowdy party, but it was loud for a library at least; I went right past everyone and headed for the stairs.

The books get less popular the further down you go; the second basement consisted entirely of historical documents related to Ko City itself, and was thus usually deserted.

I took a seat at a carrel in a back corner, out of view of any casual passerby that might manage to make it down this far, and got to work.

And I was doing good, I really was, till five minutes later I heard soft, steady panting from somewhere nearby.

I sighed loudly, and the panting stopped for a few moments, as if afraid of being heard, but then resumed again. The source was clearly trying to be quieter, but that only made hearing it all the more obnoxious.

I put my book down and headed towards the aisle where the noise was coming from, moving silently as ancient tiger hunting instincts kicked in.

My prey was huffing harder again, and I smelled it before I saw it—porcine, male, young adult, sexually aroused. I peered around the shelf corner and caught a glimpse of a pig sat leaning against the books, jerking off in front of a phone mounted on a tripod, presumably recording video.

Oh, someone’s having fun. He was cute, too. Dark teddybear eyes that looked a little small on his chubby face, a gut that was a bit bigger than mine, perfectly round but still looking soft to the touch, hefty balls that rested heavy on his thighs…

Normally the response to such a discovery—at least, if you’re not actually offended or something—would be to give him the jumpscare of his life. But this was a library, and the mental image of the pig yelping loud enough to grab everyone’s attention (or worse, falling and knocking over every bookshelf with a comical domino effect) warned me from that course of action.

Instead, I tried a more tactful approach. “Psst!” I said.

The pig froze mid-stroke and looked at me. I was crouched down, looking around the corner, hopefully giving the impression that I was the one who didn’t belong here, who was trying not to be seen.

“…Mind if I join you?”

He didn’t answer; he just kind of watched me, petrified, as I scrambled closer and sat next to him.

“It’s okay to say no,” I said. “I really should be studying. But if we all did things we should, we wouldn’t end up in situations like this. Oh, uh…” I pointed to the tripod. “Are we live? Sorry if—”

The pig lunged for the phone, turning it off. “No,” he said. “Um…you’d really want to play with me?”

I rolled over on all fours in front of him, burying my nose in his crotch and sniffing deep. “Mm yeah. You smell really good.”

His thin bristly fur did nothing to hide his blush at the compliment as I took his cock into my muzzle.

“Oh…oh fuck…”

He must have been really inexperienced, if just the touch of my mouth could make him react that way—bracing himself against the bookshelf, panting, muttering soft curses. I eased back a little so as not to set him off, unable to resist one slow lick as I pulled away.

“You didn’t have to stop…”

I smirked. “Sure…but I wanted to have a little more fun with you than that.”

His blush returned, deeper this time. “Oh?”

I nodded. “Turn around.”

He complied, turning his rump towards me and leaning on the bookshelf. He may not have played around with a lot of guys before, but he clearly knew how to put on a show: he let those hefty balls of his slip between his legs as he turned, keeping them on display behind his chubby thighs.

“You look so tasty,” I said, taking hold of his soft rump and kneading it eagerly. “I’d love to eat your ass.”

“R-Really? I’m—” He faltered with the hesitation of someone trying to raise an objection but afraid of looking uncool. “Well, it’s been hot and I might be really sweaty. I hope you don’t—”

I rammed my muzzle between his big soft cheeks and buried my tongue in his hole. Cute of him to think it wasn’t the musk of that sweat that brought me to him in the first place. The scent of him would be on my facefur for a while.

Not like I wouldn’t be carrying the rest of him around, too.

He moaned out low, trying not to be heard across the building as I chowed down on his ass, savoring that pork hole as my hunger rose. He took hold of his arousal and started stroking himself again, timing himself to the deep thrusts of my tongue, before I eased off, realizing I was going to push him over the edge again.

“Dude…” he said, looking back at me. “How the fuck’d you learn to be so good with your tongue?”

I pulled back from his ass and gave him a grin—that knowing grin that makes prey animals uneasy.

Smart ones, anyway. The scent of this pig’s arousal only intensified.

I took it as an invitation.

He yelped as I took his ass into my maw again, this time engulfing the whole of his cheeks between my jaws. (There’s no feeling like the colossal stretch of the jaw you get when swallowing someone whole.)

My tongue slid back between those cheeks briefly, teasing his hole as I grabbed his torso, pulling more of him into me.

I noticed he didn’t struggle, and wondered if he was one of those guys who jerks off thinking about disappearing down a predator’s throat.

He moaned. Oh yeah.

As his ass stretched my throat, my tongue found the base of his cock through that hefty ballsack, so hard and throbbing. This guy had definitely spilt some seed thinking of someone like me having my way with him and sending him back to his last save point.

Inexperienced, though. I wonder if he thought it would be an easy death.

I held the pig’s body up and sat back, letting his weight push him down my gullet. It’s a lot harder to swallow a guy folded over like this, fat thighs and fat balls and fat belly at the same time stretching my body out to a cartoonish degree, but I did tell you how fucking good that stretch feels.

Swallow after swallow I took him down. Most of him was in my throat when splurts of his cum started shooting into the back of my mouth, a shot of flavor for me to gulp him down all the harder.

Reaching forward to grab hold of his face, heedless of his comfort, I crammed him in harder. He grunted out little oinks as he tried to hump my throat, so turned on by being treated as nothing more than a quick dinner.

And a quick dinner he was—it wasn’t more than a minute before that pudgy little snout disappeared down my throat and I was panting, recovering my breath against the bookshelves while cradling my overfull gut.

I let out a belch that rang across the entire floor, and the wriggling in my belly turned more frantic as the pig got more excited. Whether he was trying to get himself off again, or panicking now that he realized the consequences of his submission—well, it didn’t matter.

Meals don’t get to escape your stomach just because they wimp out at the touch of stomach acid, pounding at the inner walls of your gut and shouting for fresh air and freedom.

Meals get digested.

I sat there hugging my gut till the pig quit his struggles and started mumbling about dying in the dark. It’s funny, if you don’t answer your prey while it’s yelling in your stomach, it’ll decide you can’t hear him. After all, if you could hear him, you’d answer—you’d help, wouldn’t you?

Nah. Meals get digested.

The lights were turned out as closing time passed. Nobody came by to see if anyone was still here. I turned his phone camera towards me and my gut and took a few cheeky pics—something to remember me by.

And when the last sobs of pain and solitude in my gut had finally subsided into the silence that meant I was fully alone now, I pulled out my cock and blew a quick load in memory of…whoever he was.

I didn’t want to risk setting off any alarms, so I spent the night there between the bookshelves, sleeping deep as the load in my belly changed from the remains of a pig to the waste of a tiger. Plus a couple inches of fat around the belly, to be sure, but a body’ll never put on too much from a prey date—as they say, you can’t get fat from just one bite.

Needless to say, I didn’t get much studying in. I rolled into my morning exam nearly half an hour late—the library toilet was not built for what I’d had to do to it—but fortunately the teacher only looked viciously down at me over her beak and let me take a seat.

The test went worse than I expected. The finer details of Middle Eastern history eluded my memory as I stared at the questions, and it didn’t help that I kept getting distracted by the delicious scents of fear from various ill-prepared corners of the room. Nothing you wouldn’t ordinarily find in a roomful of nervous students, but my keen nose was sharp enough to pick one out in particular, the one still in my nostrils from the night before—a familiar sweaty porcine whose terror was reinforced by an extremely inappropriate musk of arousal, coming from a few rows behind me.

He knew I was there. Did he know I knew it?

It didn’t matter. Either way, I’d already decided on lunch.

“You there, with the anus!”

I froze in place. How did they know? I was fully dressed! It should have been hidden!

I tried not to turn around, tried not to react. Maybe they meant someone else. Anuses are like opinions after all—everyone has one. Just not one like mine.

A tap at my shoulder. “Hey! You dropped something.”

I turned to find another boar, blue-furred with friendly eyes, holding up the plug I’d shoved in this morning. It looked huge and filthy in his hand, and stank of my ass—but the boar didn’t seem any more fazed by it than if I’d dropped my wallet instead.

I lost it without noticing? I thought. Fuck. Gonna have to go up a size.

“Oh, your hands are full. Let me help you get it back in.”

His free paw was at my waistband before I could protest, and as soon as my rump was exposed to the open air, the same magic that let a used butt plug pass as something unremarkable took its full hold on the poor boar. His eyes dulled as my anus’s desires normalized in his brain.

“Hog…anus…” he said, his initial friendliness developing into something like hunger. Given enough time, it would be a hunger indeed, but for now he was focused on his original quest to refill my hole.

I tried to pull my pants back up but his grip on them was firm; with heavy pressure the plug was crammed back into my greedy hog anus, not just to the point where it could rest on the rim of the toy, but fully engulfed, the other hog’s hand sinking deep into my hole.

Now, I was aware that for normal people—or at least, people with normal anuses—this would be a totally inappropriate scene for a public street. But somehow when it was me, nobody seemed to notice.

At least, nobody seemed to notice the inappropriateness. Every male this side of the street in view of my exposed ass definitely noticed, forming a small crowd around us where each of them was chanting “Hog…anus…” in his daze.

The worship was not without its effect on me. My own thoughts subsided as hog anus took control. Hog anus was hungry. Hog anus was pleased to be stuffed so deep by the blue boar. Hog anus looked forward to the offerings each new male had to offer.

With my last remnant of willpower I dragged myself and the other boar hanging from my ass into a nearby alley, drawing the crowd along with us in hopes of limiting exposure.

Bracing myself against the wall of the building, I relaxed my grip on myself and let hog anus take over. The boar at my ass gasped as it gripped his arm, muscles working to pull him in further, and he was more than happy to indulge. Hog anus wanted his arm, hog anus could have it. In his eagerness to please, his other hand fumbled for my hole, easily joining alongside the first.

The further spread of my cheeks only increased my exposure to the crowd, whose chant of “Hog…anus…” escalated in intensity. There were at least a dozen guys there, all in various stages of succumbing to their arousal: some with thick bulges tenting their pants, some scrambling to shuck off their clothes, some already stroking their hard cocks to the lust that hog anus inspired in them.

And still the boar stretched my hole. Hog anus hungered for more. It could swallow him whole, I knew—it wouldn’t be the first time. But the chant of the enthralled made me worry that I didn’t have enough for the whole class, so to speak. One boar in my ass would be an encumbrance, an embarrassment, till he was digested and I’d found a place to dispose of the load; fifteen big men wriggling in my guts would mean—well, I wouldn’t be going home for a while, for one, and I’d be lying immobile in a growing pile of waste till I managed to get on my feet again.

And who knows how many people might try to join them while I was helpless.

Hog anus twitched at the prospect. It didn’t care. And it didn’t want me to care. The boar pulled his arms apart inside me and stuffed his head inside, and that was enough to put me over the edge, the onset of my climax flooding the front of my pants as Hog…anus… was dreamily moaned from inside my body. Hog anus was pleased. I was pleased. The boar burrowed in deeper.

My porcine orgasm overwhelmed my mind, shot after shot of cum splooging out, soaking through my clothes and collecting in a puddle below us. Most people would be impressed by a cumshot like mine, a prodigious half hour of seed spilling from hefty nuts, but in practice that achievement was always overshadowed by the grip my hole held on anyone with the misfortune to catch sight of it.

Forcible pressure at my ass squeezed a deep OINK out of me as the crowd, impatient for their turn with hog anus, took hold of the boar crawling into it and started cramming him further in. He writhed inside me, not with distress, but with a pure ecstasy at being the first to be fed to hog anus—and before I knew it, my hole was closing up around him.

Paws and hands scrambled around my ass as each male tried to shoulder out the next for access to hog anus. The burliest of them, a big gray rhino, managed to win the honor, scooting in close and resting a fat arm-thick cock on my back as he ripped my pants the rest of the way off.

If it were possible, I would have run away. Spared them all. But I was weak from orgasm, heavy with the weight of the other boar in my belly, and exhausted from the stretch of my hole; I could never have made it far.

So I could only remain where I was, leaning against the wall and firing shot after shot of cum on the ground as the crowd stepped back again, pursuing their self-pleasure and chanting the name of hog anus as the rhino hefted his cock off my back and pressed it under my tail.

His augmented shaft slid in with no effort at all—after its last meal, what challenge would a mere penis offer? The boar churned in my stomach as the rhino leaned over me, moaning the mantra of hog anus in my ear as he started slamming in. His thrusting had barely begun before his pleasured grunts were quavering; the eager grip of the object of his fascination was bringing him close, making him ready to offer his seed in sacrifice to hog anus.

The others saw it coming as well. As the big rhino thrust in hard, his cock pulsing in me, the crowd of anus worshippers took hold of him, and even his strength was no help in resisting as they pulled him bodily from my hole and swung him back, like a battering ram, directly into me.

Hog anus! the crowd cheered, as my guts swelled intensely with the stretch of two full-grown guys in my ass. Had more onlookers joined? I looked back to find that indeed the throng of men now extended back into the street; I was a fool to think hog anus could be hidden by a mere alleyway.

Hog anus could never be hidden.

And it stretched open again as another person was crammed into it, the crowd’s impatience with being separated from hog anus manifesting itself in a communal urge to enter, to fill it with themselves, and they were more than happy to help each other reach that goal.

Room enough for everyone, after all.

I was fully helpless at this point, burdened with my new cargo and still climaxing. But my body was only an appendage to hog anus at this point; no one in the crowd gave the rest of me any thought, and I realized for my sanity I should do likewise.

I shut my eyes and focused on hog anus, feeling it press open to accept each new offering and close hungrily around it afterwards. The ecstatic moans of the people writhing in my guts. The intense stretching pressure as my body was forced to accommodate more, more, and still more. The overflowing cum pooling under me, not all of it mine anymore.

I tried keeping count, to start with. But somewhere around the seventies I realized they were loading in more than one at a time, and gave up the endeavor. My mind staggered to think how many tons I must weigh by now—how much of it would remain as fat, how big would I be by the time I was done digesting?

They did start slowing up as darkness fell; I wasn’t sure if it was just less people out in the late evening, or if I had grown enough that my hole could no longer be seen from the street—either was possible at this point, but I figured it was mostly the latter; people had been climbing between my body and the wall to reach hog anus.

The flow of men into my ass slowed till there was only one left. It was of course entirely impossible to see him around the bulk of my body filling the alley, but his voice was there alone, mixed with his laughter and bouncing off the building walls. Hog anus. He climbed my massive, squirming, cummy belly till he was face to face with it and buried his muzzle in deep, giving it all the love his tongue could offer.

I was surprised how sensitive hog anus still was, after all that. As the last stranger dug his way eagerly into my ass, I almost wanted more—clearly I could handle it, and it’s not like the consequences would get substantially worse.

The effort of digestion made me sleepy as the movements inside me stilled. Every man my hole had taken in today was being broken down, turning to waste in my guts, which were starting to be uncomfortably full.

I was going to have to let them out, soon.

Even though I didn’t have any alternative, I still felt wrong about dumping so much waste in public—the mess would be enormous. But it couldn’t stay in. It had to come out.

I mentally braced myself and started pushing out. Where were all the worshippers of hog anus now, when I had to unload in the street? Already done with their service. I sighed, feeling my hole open up for more than the hundredth time today.

And then a voice rang out from the mouth of the alley.

“You there, with the anus!”

“You look like you’re ready to be broken in, fucker,” said the message from a guy who had definitely not earned the privilege.

I’d spent most of the pandemic offline from the hookup apps for the obvious reason and I was starting to think I should’ve stayed off. My inbox was mostly cleared out by now—apparently spambots don’t care how long you’ve been inactive—and I was just going through sending pings back to old regulars to let them know I was back in the game again.

And then I got this. No prior chat history, a thousand miles away. Not even a photo—just the basic stats (who the hell is six foot ten?) and some profile text about being a farmer looking for livestock.

I can’t be bothered, I thought, and reached for the block button in the corner.

A notification popped up just as I tapped the screen, stealing the click and dropping me right in the chat with the man who’d just sent me a new message.

“Answer me when I speak to you, pig,” he’d written.

I tried to reach for ‘Block’ again, but—well, it’s hard to explain. I mean, it’s easy to say ‘but my thumb wouldn’t leave the on-screen keyboard’ or whatever, but you also need to understand how it felt to obey his order against my will, how my heart pounded as my body typed out a message, even as my mind was trying desperately to drop the phone, let go of the phone, shut the thing off—

My thumb hit ‘enter’ and sent the message I hadn’t consciously intended to send, yet which contained the thoughts I would’ve communicated to him:

i don’t owe you anything fuck please let me go

And my hands were free again. I tossed the phone to the other side of the room, trying not to watch as it slid across the carpet. I gathered that him saying ‘answer me’ was what had forced me to answer him, and I didn’t want to take the chance he could make me do anything else.

The memory of following the man’s command stuck in my head as I went through making dinner. He’d called me ‘pig,’ and while anyone could’ve guessed it from my profile, that was a word that had special relevance to me.

A good man who called me ‘pig’ like that wouldn’t need any crazy magic to get me to obey.

A good man who called me ‘pig’ like that could probably have me ‘broken in’ any way he wanted.

I thought about serving good men as I brought my dinner plate back into the living room, set it on the floor in front of my discarded phone, and got down on all fours in front of it. I didn’t even realize I was in full pig posture till I tried to eat and found I couldn’t even approach the plate.

And I was hungry.

But the man’s message was on the screen, a notification that would not be dismissed: But you do owe me, pig…

I grabbed for the phone and returned to chat. Again, any possibility of putting it down, of getting away, was taken away from me—I owed the man, and that was that.

Please what do I owe you I’m hungry, I answered.

Let me come by.

_But you’re so far away sir please please OINK._My hands were shaking as the scent of dinner tempted me and yet I couldn’t tear myself away from the man who had put this spell on me.

I’m not far away at all, pig, what do you mean?

I went back to his profile. There it was, right under the placeholder where his picture would be, ‘1000 m away’.

I was in too deep a pig fog to realize at first, but higher brain functions forced themselves to kick in in order to process the man’s statement.

It didn’t say 1000 mi. It said 1000 ‘m’. Of course the damn thing had converted itself to metric while I wasn’t looking. How the heck many rods is that to the hogshead?

I fumbled for the settings and changed it back to freedom units.

And there it was, right under his picture, ‘less than a mile away’. The fog of arousal returned.

SORRY COME NOW OINK

I sent my location and I waited.

Luckily it was only a few minutes before I heard heavy steps thumping up the stairs, the click of the doorknob as the farmer entered, and his deep voice as he came and stood over me. “There’s my stray pig.”

The man was enormous, both in height and girth; stuck on all fours most of what I could see was the massive overhang of his belly stretching out a tucked-in flannel shirt.

If the man ate that well, I wondered how big he fed his pigs.

“I hear you’re hungry,” he said, looking down on the plate my nose was inches away from—compelled to it by a ravenous pig hunger, but compelled from it by my farmer’s command.

“OINK,” I said, whimpering.

“Rather rich slop for a pig, isn’t it though?” He chuckled, and I blushed to think that the simple pasta meal was above my station—indeed, it should’ve been made for him. I should’ve made something better for him. I stared at the plate, whining softly and feeling like a bad pig.

“Don’t worry about it, fucker. Uncle Boyce has got just the thing for it. I know what you pigs like…”

He reached down to heft up his hanging gut with a deep grunt, his other hand opening his fly to pull out the thick roll of fat that concealed his maleness. Pressing his fingers into the flab, he exposed the thick, musky head of his cock.

“Usually I’m sittin’ down for this, but sometimes feedin’ yer pigs takes some extra work…”

A few moments of deep breathing later and a stream of pale yellow piss began to stream from that half-buried cock, landing in my plate of food and watering down the Alfredo sauce.

My human instinct would’ve flinched away from it, even in pig mode—piss on its own was one thing, but I’d never been ready for piss in food. But something about the farmer, the scent of the farmer, the dominance of the farmer stirred me to obedience, and I moved closer to the plate, feeling stray piss splashing onto my nose as he filled the plate to its brim.

“Bet that makes you hungry, don’t it, fucker?”

“OINK.” I was ravenous, but I still couldn’t touch the food without the farmer’s command.

“Good pig. Go ahead and have at it, while I get to work on the rest of you.”

I buried my face in the wet noodles, grunting with hunger as I swallowed as best I could. The human face isn’t well designed for eating without hands; my nose had to submerge in the slop to get a good mouthful, and I snorted out snoutfuls of piss as I gulped down the filthy mess.

It didn’t taste good. It was foul; a slop meant for pigs. But it was right. I wanted more. Mouthful after reeking mouthful slid down my throat into my hungry belly as the farmer knelt down beside me.

He pulled out a small pocketknife—at least, a knife that looked small in his big hands—and started to cut the clothes from my body. The human part of me flinched to see them go, but the scent of the farmer’s piss covering my face told me I belonged to ‘Uncle Boyce’ now. If he said I didn’t need clothes, I didn’t need clothes. The man’s big hands started exploring my body, and I kept eating—that was my job now, after all.

“We’ve definitely gotta put some weight on ya,” he said, handling my belly in a way that made me feel a bit queasy. I figured it was just the slop, and stuck my face in for another mouthful of pissy pasta.

His hand reached between my legs, hefting and weighing my balls, running along the length of my stiff shaft. “Probably no good for breeding, but maybe you could handle a farrowing.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but the farmer did, and that was all that mattered. I’d have thought that my breeding assets were pretty respectable, but the man’s standards were clearly higher than mine.

And then his thick fingers started exploring my rump, squeezing my soft curves like so much meat, and pressing into my unprepared hole with a depth that made me yelp.

“OINK!”

“Easy, piggy,” he said, holding his fingers in place, forcing me to get used to being stretched open. “If you can’t handle this, how’re you gonna handle my cock, much less my breeder hogs? I’m not above training you under my big horse Turbo…”

My human instinct was alarmed at the thought of being bred by actual livestock, but that was now a distant, fading voice in my mind—now, I was Uncle Boyce’s pig. Human stuff just didn’t seem important anymore. I buried my face in the plate as I swallowed down every last bit I could get, grunting and snorting like the eager pig he wanted me to be.

“Looks like you’re ready now,” he said, withdrawing his fingers and pulling off his shirt. I turned to watch him as he freed his enormous gut, making it somehow look even larger—an expanse of furry flesh extending from his chest all the way to the ground as he knelt beside me. The hair that covered his gut flowed in soft whorls that led me inexorably to the deep, dark navel at the heart of his belly, an arresting sight that left me gawping, noodles slipping from my maw.

He chuckled at my reaction. “Uncle Boyce sure knows his pigs, doesn’t he? Go on, I know you want to stick your snout in there.”

It was delivered like a command, but my scramble to press my nose into the big man’s bellyhole came not out of obedience but pure desire. I couldn’t imagine anywhere I more belonged. I couldn’t imagine anything I would want more than to slurp deeply into that deep tunnel as he cradled my head in against him, rubbing behind my ear.

All thought went quiet, ceding fully to blissful pig instinct.

The farmer watched as his new acquisition started to shed its useless human shape, starting with the face plugged into his belly as it elongated out into a proper snout probing his deep navel. Its ears, stroked slowly by the farmer’s big hands, began to unfurl, and its hair grew sparser and more bristly as it spread to cover the pig’s body.

Limbs pulled inward, to a new length more suitable for life on all fours, and its body rounded out to a moderate size—the farmer was right, it could definitely stand to put on more weight. It started squealing loudly into the man’s gut as the changes spread to its nether parts; nipples dotted its underbelly, its tail curled out above its rump and its genitals began to change.

Uncle Boyce pulled the snout from his gut and turned the pig around, interested to watch the development. Usually he could tell how the inner hog would turn out, but this one had been more obscure and he soon saw why: its once-human cock and balls were diminishing into its body, but no other parts seemed to be taking their place. Beneath its eager, unpracticed hog anus was only smooth flesh.

The big man smirked, standing up to shuck off his pants before kneeling again behind his new hog and lifting his gut to rest it on the beast’s back. The new pig whimpered with need as the stiff shaft pressed at its rump, and the farmer rumbled out deeply: “Time to break you in after all, fucker.”

> 03:15 > Hey remember that time we went to the movies?

The lion’s message was waiting for me when my alarm went off that morning, and I looked at my phone in confusion. We hadn’t met IRL yet—though we’d been growing more intimate online, he lived far enough off that even a weekend stay wouldn’t make up for the long drive.

> 06:3206:33 06:46 > No i meant you tiger > 06:46 > Humor me > 06:47 > The past isnt, like, real > 06:47 > Its just something we agree on you know? > 06:48 > And we rewrite memories every time we remember them > 06:48 > If we wanna say it went differently > 06:48 > Make different memories > 06:48 > Just for us > 06:49 > All we gotta do is decide it

By the time he’d stopped typing, I was halfway through my toast and packing lunch.

> 06:5006:59 >**AAAAH no youre the cutie!** >06:59 >` So what movie was it?

I thought about it on the drive up. There was nothing wrong with a movie as a first date, really, but this was Elias, and if I got to write a first memory with him, well…I’d either want something really awesome, or something considerably more private so we could have real fun.

As my work computer booted up, I tried to lay out my thoughts. I realized it didn’t seem right to totally reject the framing of a movie date, but I figured I could ‘yes-and’ it a bit.

> 08:0208:05 >**On a first date? naughty boy** 😼 >08:06 >**But i guess we wanted to make full use of our weekend together** >08:08 >**Fuuuuuck now im remembering you coming to the door** >08:08 >**So big and beautiful** >09:30 >**Fuck** >09:30 >**FUCK** >09:31 >**You showed up in one of those big monster diapers didnt you** >09:32 >` So hard just thinking about it

He’d added a surreptitious photo of his bulge under his desk. It wasn’t exactly the naughtiest of sights but it was good to know I could have such an effect on someone. I was too small to show much bulge myself but my dick was definitely throbbing as I wrote up my response.

> 10:1710:18 10:19 > Your first time was for me? fuck thats hot

I blushed deeply as I thought about the scenario, and what it’d mean if…if…

> 10:2010:21 >**If you loved it, why not?** 😼 >10:22 >` You told me you were so turned on you had to jerk off in the airplane bathroom [Lustylion Els 🦁 is typing…]

I was glad my belly covered my crotch when I was sitting, because I could feel the dampness of precum spreading as I imagined—no, as I remembered that day, being so horny for my lion.

He didn’t finish typing his response before break ended. I went back to work, my arousal dissipating over the course of the morning as I suffered through angry customers calling about their account woes and my stomach started to grumble for food.

When my lunch ‘hour’ finally came around, I saw Elias had sent a picture message. The break room looked crowded, so I ducked into the restroom to take a look at it in private, hiding out in one of the stalls.

It wasn’t another photo of himself, like I thought it might be.

It was me, in one of my monster diapers, my paw down the front and my face clearly showing orgasm.

Sitting on an airplane toilet seat.

> 10:35 > this was the pic you sent me > 10:36 > remember?

It wasn’t the best edit job, but convincing enough on the small screen of my phone. The selfie wasn’t one of my favorites, but I recognized it too; it was from—

I breathed in deeply. The past isn’t real. It’s just something we agree on.

It was from the first day I’d been out in diapers in public, when I got so horny I had to jerk off in an airplane bathroom.

> 1:351:37 >` FUCK i can’t wait to sink my cock in your ass again

‘Again.’ A shiver ran through me as the implications of the word sank in. I mean, if we’d spent—I scrolled back to check how long—if we’d spent a whole weekend together, then of course we’d fucked. I almost felt a little cheated—here we were deciding we’d already had our first time and all I was getting was this memory.

And then I remembered that by now all we’d have left of that time was memories anyway. Still…

> 1:391:39 >**YES** >1:40 >**I couldnt keep my paws off you** >1:40 >**From the moment I saw you** >1:40 >**I kissed you right there in the doorway, you tasted like fruit cups** >1:41 1:41 > I couldnt wrap my arms around you and that was so hot > 1:41 > My BIG beautiful baby > 1:42 > Ripping off our clothes as we rushed to bed > 1:42 > Burying my face in our diaper > 1:42 > *your > 1:42 > You smelled > 1:42 > SO > 1:42 > FUCKING > 1:42 > GOOD > 1:42 > Ugh i want you in diapers forever > 1:431:43 >**You bet I did** >1:43 >**My baby doesnt have to get up for anything** >1:43 >**Not toilet** >1:43 >**Not food** >1:43 >**Not sex** >1:43 1:43 > Felt so good to feed my baby > 1:44 > You were so hungry > 1:44 > I dont usually cum that much > 1:44 > But FUCK > 1:45 > Grinding down your throat > 1:45 > My face buried in your belly > 1:45 > Making out withthat DEEP DEEP BELLYHOLE > 1:451:46 >**But i wasnt done with you** >1:46 >**I put a box of donuts on your chest** >1:46 >**So i could watch you stuff that gorgeous belly** >1:46 >**Hefted those beefy legs over ym shoulders** >1:46 >**Ground against your soaked soaked padding FUCK** >1:46 >**Slid my cock in under that fat tail** >1:47 >` Pounded that ass till my balls were dry

I tried to hide my climax with grunts of effort appropriate to where I was, but probably wasn’t convincing anyone.

But I didn’t care, did I? I’d jerked off in a restroom before.

Emboldened, I took a quick video of me licking the cum off my paw and sent it back to Elias, just as he was sharing his memory of filling my ass.

> 1:47 > LOVE > 1:47 > YOU > 1:47 > SO > 1:47 > MUCH

The cumshot he sent back was almost as big as I remembered.

> 1:481:50 1:511:52 >**Yes, eat BIG for daddy!** >1:52 >**Fill that tubby belly now so you can fill those diapers later** 😼 >3:13 >` Breaktime diaper check 😼

I blushed deeply at the last line. He knew I hadn’t worn diapers to work today. He knew I hadn’t ever worn in public at all—

The new memory reasserted itself, me in the airport terminal, trying to hide my diaper bulge with luggage and loose clothing. This is me now, I guess.

Still, even if I had worn in public before, he knew from the video I sent him that I hadn’t worn diapers to work today. Meaning…

> 3:163:16 >**Every day since we met** >3:16 >**The monster ones of course** >3:17 >**And youve been so good about it** >3:17 >**Daddy’s big blushy baby** >3:17 >` Love you so much

And he sent me three more pics, quick edits of ones I’d sent in the past—me at my seat at work, with a frill of diaper peeking out under my shirt; me in a chair in the break room, my crotch expanded to suggest the massive diaper puffing it out; and a frame from the video I’d sent at lunchtime, my crotch very nicely padded as I licked the cum from my paw.

Well, fuck. If I had the diaper on at lunchtime…

My dick was stiffening in my pants again as I typed out my response.

> 3:173:18 >**Mmm my baby boy destroying those huge diapers** >3:18 >**So good but so naughty not bringing more.** >3:18 >**Punishment when you get home** >3:18 >**Just remember, no big boy potty for you** 😼 >3:19 3:19 > And tomorrow we’ll make sure my baby boy is ready for daycare 😼

Tomorrow.

I shut my eyes at my desk and basked in the memories of our new lives. Me, wearing monster diapers to work every day… They’d certainly help—I mean, they certainly helped to soak up all the precum Els’s hot ideas would milk out of me over the course of a day. And since I didn’t remember any coworkers saying anything about them, clearly either they hadn’t noticed or they were just being polite… I’d still be worried about being noticed tomorrow, just as I must’ve been worried today, waddling around with the rustly padding spreading my legs apart…

My heart was thumping as I answered back.

> 3:203:20 3:21 > I did > 3:21 > Every time my baby’s scared > 3:21 > I tell him I’ll take care of him > 3:21 > And I will > 3:21 > Otherwise what kind of daddy would I be? > 3:213:22 3:22 > Thank you too son > 3:23 > Already looking forward to tomorrow’s diaper checks > 3:23 > And the details of our second date. 😼

The next day, you’re walking around campus with a satchel slung over your back. You can’t wait to get started.

The satchel is full of copies of your menu—the list of all the ways anyone who wants to interact with you can change you. All they have to do is make their selection, and your body changes. ‘Add arms,’ ‘equine penis,’ ‘brain drain,’ and many other sexy options. You keep a copy in hand, for anyone you might stop to talk to.

You’ve been wandering for a couple hours now and you’re starting to get a little discouraged. You were expecting…well, you’re not really sure what you were expecting, but the hordes of people ignoring you aren’t it. Maybe a bit more open interest at least.

But there aren’t many openly-hypersexual bodies walking the campus; you’re the only one walking around hefting foot-and-a-half-long cocks in the open. (It’s not wrong for you to do this—it’s just a little rare.)

Maybe that’s why everyone else is being so shy. It’s a size thing. If you were tiny like some people, the cloud of pheromones around you would have people jumping to be your love slaves. But you’re huge, and so everyone else is afraid.

Well, not completely.

You’ve just given up on meeting people and started walking down the promenade towards your first class when you notice a guy coming straight towards you. He’s a bit shorter than you, skinny, feline, with dark blue fur.

He stops and holds his ground, staring up at you with open infatuation.

You return his gaze.

“Heeeeey,” he says, “Wanna go to the Blue Moon Tavern and fuck?”

“I thought no one would ever ask!” You offer your back for him to ride on and the pair of you head off to the tavern, his arms wrapped around your thick chest.

“I’m Yuli,” he says, once you’re settled in a secluded booth in the corner.

“I’m Flip,” you say, reaching out to shake his proffered hand.

Yuli’s arm is narrow and bony, his long, red hair tied back in a ponytail. He’s cute, a bit effeminate, and once you’re in the secluded booth, he immediately moves in on you.

“So…what’s with the big dicks?”

“All yours to play with if you like.” You grin and hand him your menu. “Or if you want me to have something different, there’s a list you can choose from.”

Yuli looks through the list, a grin spreading across his face as he reads each option. “I want you to have a horse cock,” he says, before pausing and adding, “…Here it is on the list. How does it work?”

“Just tap it with your finger and it’ll change me,” you say. Your cocks are drooling in anticipation.

“I also want you to be the same height as me when we’re fucking.” He taps his finger on the menu in the corresponding places.

A flash of pleasure runs through you as your body changes accordingly, your cocks changing from their original hybrid type, big knots and ridges melding back into you as the shafts grow longer and more equine, heads flaring and medial rings forming. At the same time you become a little shorter, your head becoming level with Yuli’s.

Yuli grins, and puts his arms around your neck, kissing you on the lips briefly.

You lean in to return the kiss, your tongues meeting. You embrace, moaning slightly as your hindcock extends past your forecock’s balls, both shafts already hard and aching to be released.

“So, do you come here often?” you ask, as Yuli runs a hand over your front thigh.

“Oh sure,” he says, grinning. “I know the owner. She lets me stay in the VIP room for free if I give her some…attention every now and then.” He winks at you.

“Mm.” You kiss him a little deeper, reaching down to stroke the bulge in his pants, which is already sizable. He returns the favor, one hand reaching down to one of your new horse cocks, squeezing it gently.

“Well then,” you say, as he strokes you under the table, his other hand reaching further down to reach your hindcock. “Shall we retire to this VIP room?”

“Oh yes,” he says. “I haven’t gotten off in hours!”

You both laugh as you get up and he leads you to the room.

Yuli strips for you as you stroke yourself, sizing him up and down. He’s pretty thin, but he’s got some muscle on him, and he’s fairly short. Even being shrunk to his height, your cocks are larger than his, both in girth and length.

“Let me see those horse cocks,” he says, dropping to his knees.

You grin, flopping your dick downwards so it slaps him in the face.

“By the way, what sort of fur are you anyway? It’s hard to tell.”

“Uh, I’m a hybrid,” you say. “Mostly boar and fox. I call myself a boxtaur.”

“Oh? I’m a hybrid too!” He grins, turning around to reveal a tufted blue tail. “I’m a liger.”

You laugh, leaning down and rubbing his stomach. “Soft,” you comment.

“Haha I know, right?” His stomach vibrates under you as he purrs.

He leans over your forecock, taking your entire shaft into his mouth till his lips are pressing against the base. You moan in pleasure, running your fingers through his headfur as he begins to suck.

You’re impressed he can take the whole thing at once—a couple of feet of horse cock doesn’t go easily down anyone’s throat, but he takes it like a champ. You can see it stretching out his neck, and how the bulge of your cockhead is visible through his slender belly.

You groan, gently rocking forward as you sink into his throat, kneading his shoulders with your tubby fingers. He grunts in time with your thrusts, his throat contracting around your cock more desperately with each motion.

“Ah! Yeah… Yeah… Take it…”

You plunge in deep, cocks throbbing. You let out a shuddering moan, before you reach down and grab him by the ears, pulling his head off your dick. He looks up at you with a pitiful expression, spit hanging off his chin and dribbling down his chest.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I want to try something.”

You turn him around, pressing him down so he’s bent over the table. He looks over his shoulder at you with a grin, before you plunge your hind cock into him.

“Ah!” he cries, head slamming against the table. You stop thrusting for a moment, but when he doesn’t say stop, you continue.

The liger’s ass is tight around your equine shaft and it feels good to plow him. As you thrust, your paws work your front cock, jerking yourself off with his spit as lube.

“Oh, God… You’re huge…” Yuli groans.

You reach forward, grabbing his shoulders and ramming into him as hard as you can, his stomach bulging as your hind legs make contact with his body, thrusting with your hips. Your balls smack into his butt with a meaty noise.

Your new cocks leak copious pre, and his hole is soon loose and slick enough for you to go faster. Yuli is jerking himself off under you as you focus on your forward cock, sucking on the flaring head easily as its balls rest on the liger’s shoulders.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

He reaches up, and just as you’re about to cum, he grabs your forward cock and pulls it down onto his head. You fire off into the air, thick ropes of white spraying out over the liger’s head.

Your hind cock throbs and pulses in his ass, flooding him with your hyper-sized load. He moans in time with you, finishing himself off. You lean forward, resting your barrel on his back as you pant.

“Oh, shit,” he says after a moment, scrambling out from under you and turning to kiss you on the lips. “That was awesome.”

“You’re a good lay,” you admit, slurping the last spurts of cum from your forward cock and licking your lips.

He blushes. “Where’d that menu go?”

You hand it back to him, interested to see if he has any new ideas for you.

“I’d ask for something else, but I’m not sure if I can take anything bigger,” he says with a wink, and clears his choice, watching your cocks revert to their original shape.

You laugh and settle into his arms as you cuddle.

“Hey, Yuli?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Yes?”

“You think you could fuck me? I mean, if you’re up for it, I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but…”

He grins. “Absolutely.”

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d say that.”

You present your hindquarters, flicking your tail aside to show your hungry hole. Yuli leans in, rimming you for a moment before pausing.

“You said you wanted me to fuck you, right?” he asks, a finger rubbing against your hole.

“Yes…”

He reaches down, grabbing a monster dildo from a box under the table and slathering it with lube. “Your hole’s pretty big… I have a feeling this’ll give you a lot more pleasure than my meager dick will.”

“If you think so…” you say. He chuckles, gently pushing the head of the dildo inside you as you moan in pleasure.

“How’s that?” he asks.

The stretching is intense; your cocks throb. “Oh fuck yes.”

He chuckles as he starts fucking you with it, cramming the monster in deep and pulling it back with firm strokes. “Mm, you’re filthy back here, Flip.”

You groan, resting your head against the wall as you push your ass back to meet his thrusts. The stink of your shit spilling out over the dildo fills the room.

Your cocks grind across the table, leaking precum onto the lacquer as you gasp.

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” you groan.

Yuli grunts, his hand on your hip as he thrusts the toy forward. He slams it into you, the dildo going in as deep as physically possible, the base of the toy smacking against your cheeks. You howl, the sound turning into a long, low moan as you shoot your load onto the table.

“Fuck… I’m cumming!”

Yuli grunts, holding the toy rammed deep into you. You wail, your ass tightening around the toy and splattering it with loose scat as it tries to push out. The warmth of the mess runs down your ass, pooling around the toy and dripping off the sides. Your asshole pulses around it as more shit dribbles out, smearing the dildo with a layer of shit that smells terrible.

“Fuck…” you moan.

Yuli slaps your ass with his free hand, the sound filling the room. “Still want me to fuck you?”

“Like I’d stop you.”

He chuckles, slowly pulling the toy out of you. The shit lets it slide easily from your asshole, clinging to the dildo before it slides off with a plop into the growing pool of cum beneath the table.

“Roll over.”

You turn over, lying on your back as you look up at Yuli. He grins, tossing the toy aside and leaning down to kiss your lower belly as his hands rest on your hips. He moves his face down, slowly French kissing your cum-filled navel as he moves towards your crotch.

“You know what I’m going to do,” he says, licking his lips.

He takes your hindcock into his mouth, slurping on the cum still gushing from it for a moment before releasing it with a wet pop. He runs his tongue along your shaft’s ridges, running it along the underside as he gently noms your balls. He takes them both into his mouth, sucking on them gently as he rubs his hands up your thighs.

He lets them pop out of his mouth, softly kissing the skin just north of your pelvis. “You ready?”

You rumble happily. “Mm, fuck yes.”

He leans down, gently pressing his lips against your filthy asshole. He keeps them pressed against your hole, hot and heavy, as he begins to push his tongue inside you. You gasp, feeling it slide deeper and deeper up your ass as he starts to wriggle it around slightly, exploring your insides, tasting your mess.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” you say, softly rubbing your forepaw through his hair.

He removes his tongue, licking his lips as he stares at your asshole. He leans down, pressing his lips against you as he gives you a soft kiss right where your ass meets your groin. Then he moves forward, giving your taint a kiss, then further up your stomach, then onto your chest…till finally he’s leaning over you, soaked in cum and shit, kissing you on the lips. You press back against his lips as your tongues wrestle in your mouth, tasting your filth on him.

He moves back again, rubbing the tip of his dick against your ass. The head pops in and you take a deep breath as your asshole slowly spreads to accept his girth. He pushes forward, gently sliding deeper and deeper into you as he starts to grind his hips, rubbing his cock into you.

He’s nowhere near as big as the dildo was and you’re incredibly relaxed now, the muscles in your ass warm and loose. He pulls out and pushes forward again, the tip of his dick popping into you easily as his hips touch yours. You let out a low moan, wrapping your arms around your front cock like a pillow and sucking down your cum.

He gently leans forward, propping himself up on your belly as he stares up into your eyes. He softly kisses you your balls as he starts to rock his hips back and forth, gently sliding his cock in and out of your ass, each thrust lubed only by your own shit.

He starts to thrust a little harder, his cock sliding in and out as he fucks you missionary style. His lips move up to one of your lower nipples as he suckles on it softly. He thrusts a few more times, before he suddenly pulls out. You let out a low moan of disappointment as he flips you over onto your belly. You raise your ass into the air as you look back at him, smacking your ass cheek a couple times and pushing out a little more shit to tease him.

He leans forward, gently running his hands along your back as he kisses up your spine. He moves up to your neck, then finally to your ear, where he bites down on it gently. His hand slides up to your mouth, two fingers sliding in past your lips, gently brushing against your teeth.

You can taste yourself on him. “You love my scat, don’t you?”

“I…I do,” he moans, his voice strained with pleasure as he withdraws from your ass.

“What do you want to do, Yuli?”

“Fuck you with your own shit,” he says softly, reaching for your menu and finding a custom option.

You feel a strange tension in your bowels and flag your tail, pushing out a long, solid turd for him—much firmer than any ordinary shit should be. You smirk as you feel him grab it, sliding it back into your asshole, before he starts to gently fuck you with your own shit.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the feeling in your ass as he fucks you slowly and gently. You gently rock your hips back into him, gently moving along with his thrusts. The smell of shit starts to grow stronger as you start to adjust to the feeling.

“Harder,” you moan softly, “fuck me harder.”

He grabs you by the hips, pulling you into him as he starts to fuck you faster with the turd. The shit is mostly staying together, which is a massive improvement on the last time you tried something like this. He leans forward, pressing his lips against your rump.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna…” he pants.

You grunt as he crams his dick into you alongside the turd and feel it start to throb, shooting his warm seed deep in your bowels. He slowly pulls out of you before dropping down onto the couch. You lean over and gently take his soft dick into your mouth, sucking it clean. You can taste the mixture of his seed with your shit as it slides down your throat.

“That was…” he says, panting, “I don’t know what to say about that.”

“It was a good time,” you grin. “We’ll have to meet up again. Right now though…I’m late for class!”

I sat by my otter on the sparsely-populated bleachers, waiting for the game to start.

Mattock’s softball league was just starting the season and even though I was far too sedentary to join him—and Darkwater wouldn’t be able to make most of the practices—we still thought we should catch our mate’s first game.

But it was a hot day, and as a skunk who was fat, shaggy, and diapered, the discomfort of the heat set in quickly. I excused myself and went behind the bleachers to the lot in back where a few concessions stands had been setting up earlier.

Only one of them had opened so far, a snow-cone truck that looked exactly like the kind of refreshment I was looking for, but as I was walking past the row of stalls and trucks, another window opened up behind me and I turned to take a look.

A graying ogre of a bear filled most of the stall, whose sign just said ‘Franks’.

He was huge. Like, I’m fatter than most people I know nowadays, but he had to be literally twice as wide as me and probably at least a head taller too. I couldn’t even imagine how he got in there, unless the whole back wall of the place opened up. His features were monstrous, expressive, and progressively hungrier as I took in the sight of him.

“The menu’s over there,” he said, pointing to his left, and I realized exactly how I’d been staring. “Or do you already know what you want?”

I want your ass to grind me to a paste, I thought, but of course I couldn’t actually say that.

“I want your ass to grind me to a paste, I think,” I said, “but of course I can’t actually say that.”

The bear laughed, a deep sound that made my entire lower body tingle. “Sounds like a good time. Should probably stick to business for now though, kid.”

I was way too old for ‘kid,’ but I figured he could get away with it.

“I’m way too old for ‘kid’,” I said, “but I figure you can get away with it.”

He smirked and looked down at my diaper. “Too old, eh? You sure?”

“Is that disappointment or hopefulness?” I said, without thinking.

The bear spluttered. “Oh, just get in here kid, let’s get you taken care of before the crowds start piling up.” He swung open a door in the side of the stand and I snuck in, to find the place was larger than I expected.

Not, like, ‘bigger on the inside’ big—the place was still small, especially with so much bear in it—but the ground was lower than outside, giving him space to stand up.

I looked him up and down in some awe—the rest of him was even larger than what I’d already seen.

Twelve enormous feet of bear stood in front of me, irresistible.

I looked up at him speechless, and he returned my gaze with some bewilderment.

“Um…what’s on your mind, kid?”

“You smell really, really good.”

He laughed.

I approached him closer. He wasn’t wearing much himself, just something like a loincloth or fundoshi around his waist, which was mostly engulfed by the overhang of his belly. At his height, my headfur brushed against the lowest part of his gut as I stepped between into the space between his legs, where the musk was thickest.

The bulge of his cock through the fabric was nearly as big as my arm, and it was definitely still quite soft. His balls swelled out the bulge, the edges of his scrotum visible to either side of the cloth.

“I’m glad I’m stretchy,” I thought and said.

He laughed again, a little more darkly this time, the bulge thickening as his cock swelled. “You don’t say…might have to give you a bit of a challenge, then. I have a bit of a knack for getting into tight places, myself.”

I reached up to pull the cloth aside, letting his dong flop out, a thick piece of dark flesh framed by graying black fur. A wrinkle of foreskin covered the head, and just by the scent coming out of it I could tell it never saw daylight, even fully hard.

My lips, almost against my will, were drawn to the opening of that foreskin, kissing the warm flesh and slipping my tongue in to taste a cockhead already very slick with pre. I felt it throb as it continued to stiffen, and I tried to take a step back to give the bear room to grow—but I found my lips resist breaking contact, almost as if they had fused to it.

From above me the bear rumbled “Just a taste for you…” before a big paw engulfed the back of my head and forced it directly into his pubes.

It should’ve taken more effort to swallow that monster, but it slid down my throat like I was just an extension of that foreskin, like it belonged there, my jaw fully unhinged and my throat stretched out as a cock half a foot wide and several times as long sheathed itself inside me. Its head ground against my stomach wall a few times before he pulled back out, his cock separating from where it had fused to my muzzle with a pop.

The sudden emptying of my throat left me coughing for a bit as I tried to say ‘oh fuck yes.’

When I’d recovered my breath and was leaning in for more, I was interrupted by a ‘Good morning!’ from above—I’d almost forgotten that the bear was on the clock. I waited, unsure if I should disturb him while he took the order, and stepped aside as he turned to grab a snack box from the wall.

Of course I miscalculated and wasn’t fully out of his way, and got smacked upside the head by his stiff cock as he moved.

And that cock of his stayed where it was, foreskin latched to my ear where it had caught hold.

It took me half a second to realize what had happened. I didn’t know if he had conscious control of it, but whether he did or not, he couldn’t see what he was doing anyway—clearly he wasn’t concerned enough to release me before turning to finish the transaction, dragging my head back along with him.

“Oh fuck,” I thought and said, somewhat muffled as his leg bumped into me. He seemed to take this as encouragement though, and in a moment that big paw was on my head again, and that big cock drove in, heedless.

My vision flashed white and I inhaled sharply as that monstrous cock plunged into my brain and out the other side, easily stretching out both my ears to allow it to skewer my skull.

Looking back, I realize this is absolutely not how things are supposed to work, but at the time all thought was beyond my grasp; I was floating in a weird euphoria, eyes crossed, dick hard, and literally nothing but his cock on my mind.

He pulled back—and I had a moment to regain focus, to realize what was happening—before he slammed in again, scrambling my mind as that musky cock plunged through my gray matter and out again, precum spilling out over my shoulder.

On the third thrust I climaxed immediately, cum flowing into my diaper as freely as piss as my half-buried cock throbbed and pulsed in tune with the giant bear’s cock in my head.

I didn’t even realize the guttural OINK OINK OINK escaping my throat until the big hand cupping my head slid its fingers down to cover my mouth, no doubt to keep me from scaring off the customers.

He used me more roughly then, all the more eager to get off, lighting up my brain with random stimuli every time his flesh dragged across it, leaving me slack-jawed and drooling as I tired to process a kaleidoscope of memories and concepts and qualia. I can’t even get my head in the same space to remember and describe it for you, outside of the very end—when he slammed his cock in lower, not aiming for my other ear, but bottoming out in my skull as he flooded my brainpan with bear cum—I can just remember the way my mind tried to pull back together as he pulled out, something triggering thoughts of red number seven after red number seven before I collapsed to the ground, disengaging from his cock with another small pop.

He didn’t bother to wake me; when I came to, I was staring up at his underside watching him hand another order to another customer. Cum was leaking out my ears and out of my diaper, and my head was still a fog of sex.

“O—Oink…” I said.

The bear looked down at me, leaning on his counter. “Some otter came looking for you, kid. I told him you’d be around in a bit.”

“Ah… I hope he wasn’t upset I got distracted.”

“He told me to make sure you get a second round,” he said, rubbing his loincloth, the front of which was soaked in his musk and doing nothing to hide his arousal. “Wanted to make sure I had you loosened up for later. He was tiny though—you got a bigger boy at home?”

“In a sense,” I said, blushing as I realized. “But he probably wants me to make a bigger mess in my diapers…”

The grin on his face grew even filthier. “Better not disappoint him then, kid. Let’s open up that hole.”

I didn’t think it was going to be a bad day today. While I was at work, I got the notification that the package I was expecting had been delivered, and I spent most of the afternoon excited and looking forward to my new toy.

I made it home to find the package undisturbed on my doorstep and carried it inside, letting my arousal build as I imagined enjoying what was inside.

This wasn’t just any old sex toy after all. It wasn’t any old fetish gear.

This, if the seller was to be believed, was a real life Hedonic Artifact—a magical object of pure sexual pleasure. Now sure, everyday magical toys are easy to find at your local adult shop, but this was a relic, from a couple of generations ago before magic was accessible to everyone. And the cock ring I’d ordered was rare not only as a holdover from the age of witches, but also for its safety—the remaining witchery in the world was mostly demons bound to objects in various degrees, and in this one, the seal was complete.

I couldn’t even sit down, I was so excited. I’d been saving up for most of a decade. I know some folk might laugh about that, but just imagine—the power to change your dick at will…

I cut through the packing tape that held the box shut and looked inside.

The item in the box was not one (1) golden cock ring.

The item in the box was one (1) large white plastic diaper.

I did the only thing I could do—grab the packing slip from the side of the box to find the number for Customer Support. I’m not usually the kind of guy to go straight to the complaints counter when something goes wrong, but this was serious. Not just the expense, but—well, the toy I was supposed to get was no ordinary toy. The thing I got, in all likelihood, was also no ordinary toy.

And I didn’t know what it did.

It might not have even been safe to look at.

So I went over to the next room, listening to the bland saxophone hold music. This is not the day I was looking forward to, I thought.

Eventually the call was answered, a vaguely German-sounding voice thanking me for choosing his company and introducing himself as [kssht]helm. Noise on the line ate his name and made him difficult to hear; I wasn’t sure if the connection was bad or his mic was just dying.

“Hi, your delivery came in today but the package had a different item than what I ordered…”

“Ah! It was you!”

I hadn’t even given my name yet. Apparently this ‘company’ is smaller than it sounds, I thought.

“The diaper [kssht] to you, yes? I am sorry, both for the inconv[kssht] and for what I must ask. Please [kssht] the box and send it back. It is [kssht]erous and will take you over. Whatever you do, [kssht] put it on!”

Now before I tell you what happens next, I want you to know that, yes, I understand “whatever you do, [kssht] put it on” is Bad-Connectionese for “whatever you do, don’t put it on.” I do realize that.

But that disconnected fragment ‘…put it on…’ stuck in my head with all the force of a temptation. You’ve probably never been tempted—not really Tempted. The proverbial shoulder devils are extremely rare nowadays, because demons don’t breed and mortal folk started to outnumber them thousands of years ago. If you have had the misfortune, you might know what I was going through.

Resisting the force of another mind working directly in yours, rewriting your desires and attention, is hard. I didn’t even notice myself putting the phone down and heading back to the kitchen table where the box was while ‘put it on’ rang in my head—until the sight of the diaper snapped me back to myself.

It’s dangerous, I thought.

It smells nice, I thought.

When did I pick it up? I thought. Why am I holding it to my face?

I pushed hard against the temptation, straining mental muscles I didn’t know I even had as I struggled to put the cursed thing down and shut the box again.

In a sweat, I grabbed packing tape from the drawer and sealed the flaps of the box shut, trying not to think about how it’d feel to tape up that diaper around my own legs…

I looked down in panic, to make sure that wasn’t somehow subconsciously what I had been doing—but fortunately I was still in my own clothes.

All I had to do now was take it back to the post office and ship it back. Such a relief to have that evil thing out of sight, I thought. I’ll just take a quick restroom break and head out.

My mind was two steps ahead as I entered the bathroom, thinking of what the postage cost might be as I set the package on the sink counter.

I grumbled inwardly, remembering what time it was and how awful traffic would be on the way there as I opened the package back up and pulled the possessed diaper out.

The urge to piss got suddenly stronger, so I quickly let my pants and underwear fall, and with a deft motion slid the diaper in place between my legs and taped it up.

I was halfway through my piss before my attention returned and I realized what my body had been doing. As far as my thoughts were concerned, I’d left the box on the table—but somehow the demon had taken over when my mind went into autopilot.

It feels good to wet my diaper, I thought, as the piss kept coming. So warm, so wet…

My paws reached down, cradling the front of the padding as it filled with that warmth, that wetness. It was almost trivial at this point to submit further. I don’t need to send the Diaper back. I don’t need to go anywhere. I sank down to the floor of the bathroom, humping desperately at my Diaper as my stream of piss went on, longer than I’d ever known to be normal.

My mind was in a fog as I filled the Diaper, draining my thoughts as well as my bladder into it, a blissful feeling spreading outward from my dick.

It wasn’t just piss anymore. The sense of drainage passed through my whole body, like every cell of me was being squeezed to feed the Diaper. The euphoria of piss faded into a light-headed weakness, and I watched helplessly, unable to move, as my body started to change.

I felt the numbness in my groin before the change became visible, creeping up from the Diaper’s waistband—the change from fur and flesh to something more suitable for the contents of a Diaper.

I watched in woozy admiration as the white fur of my belly melted into a slab of dirty brown muck, the stink of it filling my nostrils. A flicker of self-preservation tried to assert itself in my mind but it was met by the twin thoughts I want to feed the Diaper and It’s too late anyway.

The change continued up my torso, reducing all the organs of the living creature I used to be down into a pile of fresh shit. It crept down my legs as well, leaving the Diaper essentially floating in the morass of waste it was creating, but as I watched closer, I saw the remains of my body being pulled slowly into the body of the Diaper.

It’s so absorbent, I thought. Wait, that’s not how diapers work, is it?

It’s how I work, came a much deeper voice in my head, the response of the demon asserting itself filling me with a terror that sobered me out of the haze I’d been in. Given how much of me was gone now, there were none of the bodily markers of fear to ground me: no lungs to gasp with, no stomach to churn, no heart to race. Pure psychological terror overwhelmed me.

You taste good, little one, it said, as its influence finished dissolving me into scat, my senses plunging into darkness as my body was no more.

My mind was left alone in darkness with the Diaper’s voice, nearly blanked out in fear.

Dimly I was aware I was just a remnant living in its mind now, feeling its satisfaction as it sucked in my remains, tasting the delicious filth it had reduced me to as it glutted itself. The Diaper absorbed me into myself, feeding on his soul and energy to replenish and strengthen myself. I flexed against the wall of the prison that bound me, the diaper I had sucked clean of any trace of my last victim—and felt the barrier rattle.

Soon, I thought. One more meal, maybe two, and I can break free.

One meal, maybe two, was easy. All I had to do was lie in wait.

After all, my victim would have someone coming to look for them eventually.

The fat skunk boarded the bus, clad only in a massive diaper that gave it a waddling gait even more pronounced than its weight alone would give it. A few people looked up to see whose steps were rocking the bus, but their eyes soon returned to their phones, uninterested.

After all, the skunk’s diaper had ‘THIS IS NORMAL’ markered onto it in large block letters.

Of course it was normal—there was no denying that—but something at the back of my mind told me that even if it was normal, it wasn’t something you saw every day.

In fact, I wasn’t sure it was something I’d ever seen before at all.

The bus was standing room only, and the skunk took a place standing right in front of me, holding one of the support poles with its left hand.

My face was level with its diaper, and the smell of the piss that had yellowed its front floated into my nostrils.

Perfectly normal piss.

I tried, unsuccessfully, to manage the boner that was only the natural result of seeing one of my fetishes in the wild, no matter how normal it was.

But seventeen inches of otter cock were neither easily suppressed nor easy to hide as they grew past my waistband and made a visible outline under my shirt.

A bear sitting beside me noticed my ridiculous bulge and left his seat, sneering.

I looked up at the skunk, trying to catch its attention, but a fringe of fur covered its eyes and it was hard to see where it was looking. The thought flickered across my mind that the skunk was cute, but that was silly; it just looked normal, after all. But that big hog-like snout, that grin—it was certainly my type, at least.

That grin. Oh. It was looking at me. I crossed my arms, trying to obscure the ridge of cock and stain of precum at my chest, but the skunk only reached down and stroked under my chin, still grinning.

“You want to take a sniff, don’t you?” it said.

I’d never felt more grateful that this was a normal courtesy for it to offer.

“Thank you,” I said, nuzzling my face under the skunk’s belly and into the front of its diaper, inhaling deeply the sweet scent of plastic and padding and piss. “So much.” An overwhelming sense of wholeness filled me, as if everything now was just as it was supposed to be.

The skunk chuckled, reaching a paw down to stroke through my headfur. “My pleasure,” it said, and I could tell it really meant it—it was only natural that my enjoyment of it would be enjoyable to it as well.

My seatmates weren’t looking at me funny anymore, not like they had been before I buried my face in the fat skunk’s diaper, so I went on doing what felt natural: I pulled down the front of that padding to expose its cock, a small nub almost fully buried in its fat and fully drenched in piss.

Just as it should be.

A part of me wished the skunk would do something really kinky. Something to make the prudes gasp and the pervs jealous. Instead, as I sat there jerking my giant cock, my muzzle buried in its crotch and eagerly slurping its pungent dick, all it did was look down at me and ask “Want a drink, too?” A common courtesy!

I swear, it was a curse being as kinky as me. I mean, I don’t think I’d ever actually done it before, but drinking piss from a diapered skunk’s cock in a public place was vanilla. It was barely even sex! Oh well.

My cock splattered blasts of pre everywhere as I jerked it, sitting below the tubby skunk’s belly with my mouth open, ready for the flow of piss from its tiny cock. Normal as a handshake.

When the first spray splashed across my tongue, my own cock went off in long, hose-like splurts of cum that hit the underside of the skunk’s belly and flowed down into its padding.

I gulped down mouthful after mouthful of piss, all the while wishing deep down that I could get the skunk away for some private time and push some limits. What if the guy wasn’t into piss or anything kinky at all? That’d be embarrassing. I focused on filling my belly from its cock, moving in to suckle on it hungrily as the stream came to an end.

It let out a deep ‘mmm’ as my tongue slid into the tunnel in its fatpad where its cock lived and started slurping out piss-soaked inches of cock that must’ve been buried for ages. The stink of it was a refreshing comfort, something that told me I was right where it was normal for me to be.

And yet the skunk pulled back to look down at me again—or more likely, my still-hard almost–foot-and-a-half cock. “Mind if I take a seat, buddy?”

“Of course not!” It was only natural for such a big fellah to want to sit down after standing so long, after all. I leaned back in my seat, let my cock slip out from under my shirt, and held it forward for the skunk. It pulled its soggy diaperfront back up before turning its back to me and pulling the back of its padding down, showing off its enormous black-furred rump.

And again I felt that quiet sense of rightness, of normalcy, as it pressed its ass against my cock and letting my thick cockhead part its cheeks.

It was only natural for someone to take a seat on my cock when the bus was full, after all…even if it hadn’t really happened to me before.

It was perfectly normal for the skunk’s ass to stretch around my monstrous cock like it was nothing…even if I was more used to people needing a lot of lube and foreplay to even get the head in, and we’d barely even done anything horny yet.

It was an everyday thing for the skunk to easily hilt the whole of my cock as it put its full weight on me, its rump landing in my lap…even though that was not actually a thing that personally happened to me any day.

The skunk’s various inner muscles flexed around my length as it got comfortable. “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it,” I said, leaning forward into its back and embracing it, paws stroking down the side of its belly. “Nothin’ anyone else here wouldn’t do.”

It chuckled and leaned back, crushing my face into the flab of its back rolls as it started to grind back and forth, milking my cock with its ass as it rubbed its diaperfront.

I shut my eyes, breathing in the mildly skunky scent of its fur, my mind wandering as my body was casually used. I imagined being brave enough to ask if the skunk wanted to fool around—if it might be into me. As its perfectly normal monstrous ass manipulated me to climax over and over, drinking in load after load of my cum and making its belly round out with the full load, I continued in my fantasy of taking it home, watching it change out of its diaper, lie on my bed, and invite me to show it how much further than ‘normal’ we could go.

The skunk took a series of deep breaths interspersed with grunting ‘oink’s as it continued to paw at its diaper, and its insides convulsed around me as it brought itself to its release, unloading into its already overfull diaper.

It recovered its breath and pulled away from me, its fur now a sweaty mess. As it stood up, its loosened ass splurted a stream of messy cum all over me before it managed to cinch up its diaper, covering its ass just in time to bear down in earnest, the diaper bulging out with the mix of the seed I’d filled it with and the filth it had inside already.

I focused on the sight as the mess leaked out and down its legs. The back of its diaper also had “THIS IS NORMAL” on it, in larger letters than the front.

I let out a deep sigh, wishing it weren’t.

The skunk wandered off towards the front of the bus as it came to a stop. I focused on stuffing my spent cock back into my shorts and wringing the wet mess out of my shirt, and it wasn’t till I felt presentable that I realized that it was my stop the skunk had gotten off at, and I’d missed it altogether.

I scrambled off the bus the next block down and ran back, but the skunk was gone. I felt bad about the missed opportunity, but also a little encouraged. Maybe I wouldn’t see the skunk again anytime soon, but I could easily find someone just as good.

This was normal, after all.

You are Flip, a boxtaur (a boar-fox hybrid taur), and you’re just getting your stuff unpacked in your new dorm suite. It’s your first day on campus and you’re looking forward to getting to know everyone. You’re taking a break now, sprawled out on the couch with your dicks out, when your new roommate Jacob comes into the living room. He’s got his head down studying something, but he looks up as soon as he sees you.

“Flip?” he asks, walking over to you and sitting beside you on the couch.

“Yeah buddy? What’s up?” You flex your lower cock, which must be as big as his arm. It’s leaking precum over your soft bellyfur.

Jacob sighs. “I’m trying to study for a test.”

“A test? On the first day of the semester?” Your hind paw brushes against his empty crotch, and you grin over at him. “Sounds like a rough class. I’m here if you ever need to, you know, clear your head or anything.”

You’ve known Jacob Fox since middle school, when you were put in a class together. It was there that you found out that you had a lot in common, and became fast friends. He’s not your usual type; he’s kind of skinny, and lacking in the genitals department.

You, on the other hand, are very round, both your bellies showing off a life of indulgence, and your cocks are each a foot long at least—more when you get worked up. Jacob will play with them sometimes, just to feel what dicks are like, and you generally don’t mind.

“I’ve got this ethics test, see,” he explains, “and I don’t know what to write for it.”

You nod. “Well, what are the questions?”

He holds up his paper and you read over it. The first few are simple. ‘Should individuals sacrifice for the good of society?’

“Oh, that’s easy,” you say. “Especially if he means, like, our actual societies. Which for most of us is a lot smaller than we think.” You try not to drip precum on the paper, but you can’t help it. You’re going to need to get yourself off soon.

The next question is a little harder. ‘Should a person with a terminal illness be forced to live?’

“That’s a harsh way to put it… But I’d say no, at least depending on the illness,” you say, thinking of your own grandfather, “And, like, how bad it is.”

The last question catches you off guard.

‘Would you sleep with your ethics professor to get an A?’

You pause, thinking about the portly elephant you met when you toured the campus over the summer. You don’t know about Jacob, but you’d definitely be into him.

“I mean, I’d do him for free,” you say honestly. “But you’d probably say he’s kind of gross.”

Jacob sighs and rolls his eyes at you. You know that look, that ‘Flip-can’t-think-about-anything-but-sex’ look.

“Well?” he asks, more demand than question.

“I mean, you know I love gross. I’d bury my snout in that sweaty rump of his any day. But, uh, yeah, the test. I’d be more worried it was a trap than anything else. I mean, an ethics professor offers to sleep with you for your grade? Sounds like an obvious setup.”

He sighs again. “He’s a dirty old phant. He’s not a cop. I don’t think anything would happen.”

You stare at him.

“And you know this from experience, do you?” you ask.

He looks away. “No, not exactly. I just mean, the guy’s a creep. He’d sleep with anyone.”

You chuckle. “Oh, so I’m a creep too? Is that what you’re saying?”

He snorts and swats at your lower cock playfully. “It’s exactly what I’m saying. He’s a big horny monster like you.”

You grin. “Sounds good.”

“Well,” he says, and bites his lip nervously, “I’m horny now. How about you?”

You laugh, flexing your hard cocks at him. “A little obvious, isn’t it?”

“Not in the slightest.”

You grind your rump against the silly fox invitingly. “Think you could fit an arm up there today? Or what’re you in the mood for?”

“A handjob?”

You laugh. “Come on, we both know what you’re into here.”

He smiles a bit. “Yeah, I suppose so.” He slides down the couch until his head is in perfect sucking height.

“Well?” he asks, staring at your hind groin.

You stare back. “You’re going to have to do all the work. I can’t bend that far.”

“Pity,” he says, and licks his lips. Then he takes your hind cock in his hand, and starts sucking on it gently.

You rumble happily and start stroking on your fore cock, bending down to suckle on the head of it. With a mouth around each of your cockheads, it isn’t long before your arousal escalates and your cocks start growing even bigger.

You reach a forepaw down to stroke his upper back and roll your hips into his mouth, closing your eyes and enjoying the blowjob. He doesn’t mind doing this every now and again, which you’re especially glad of since he’s pretty good at it. You don’t often cum from a blowjob alone—you’re far more a masturbator—but he’s gotten you there a few times.

After a few minutes of sucking, you pull him off. “Hold off,” you say, “I’m getting close.”

He nods and stands up. You shift forward and roll over on your back, sticking your hind legs up. He knows what to do.

You grind your hind cock against your underbelly as Jacob lines up behind your rump, pressing your own fox tail out of the way to access your hole. You suckle greedily on your front cock as your body tenses up with eagerness to release.

Jacob starts thrusting in and out of your ass, fucking you nice and hard with his balled fist. He puts his other hand around as much of your hind cock as he can reach and starts stroking in time with his thrusts, ready to milk you of your load. You run your paw down your front sheath and start stroking your front cock in time with him, speeding yourself up.

Jacob is an expert at this, and he’s got a lot of experience behind him. You didn’t become fuck buddies for nothing.

He’s also quite a bit thinner than you, and as such can get his arms in deeper to use his whole strength to stretch you out more, and that’s exactly what he does. By the time you’ve gotten to the point of climax, your ass feels like it’s wide enough to birth a child.

You let out a deep grunting OINK as your front cock starts blasting into your muzzle, your hind cock spraying into the air shortly afterwards as your roommate works your ass. Your spurts end up covering a good portion of the room, you being half boar and all, but at least your other load is contained in your mouth, and you swallow it down greedily.

As you come down from climax, Jacob slowly pulls out of your ass and sits back on the couch. “Well,” he says, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you let a load go so early. You okay?”

You pant and wheeze for a bit, before nodding.

“Just a bit pent up I guess. Spent most of the day packing and moving, not getting my usual gooning session in, you know?”

“Ah, I see. Well, it’s not my business, but you might want to think about finding yourself more steady fuckbuddies while you’re out here. Lots more opportunities out here, and as much as I like our time together, I’m not exactly the most…well, you know.”

You pull him close and give his face a friendly lick. “C’mon, cutie. You know you don’t need a dick to make me happy.” You indicate the stripes of cum covering every surface in the room as evidence. “And I know you’re a little skinny, but I don’t mind that much.”

You think about what he’s said a minute longer, and add, “But you’re right though. I really wanna get out and fuck a lot of guys while I’m here.”

He helps you clean up the room a bit and pack away your sex toys before you finally get some sleep.

There’s a kind of person who’s happy when they don’t have to go ‘home’ for the holidays. Sometimes your family was just that bad. Sometimes they weren’t that bad, really, but you just don’t fit in. And, you know, sometimes you’d like to be there, really, but getting there would be more trouble than it’s worth.

This year put me in the last category. We didn’t even have a holiday call; Mom said there was no point if she couldn’t cook for us, Uncle Ed said he shouldn’t use the computer if he was getting ‘holiday drunk’, and my grandparents were pre-Internet enough that video calls didn’t do anything for them.

I spent Christmas with 90s sitcoms and a big frozen lasagna. It was okay.

The first sign I had that I was falling asleep on the couch was the hammering on my door that jolted me awake. Landlord? I thought. Or cops? But either of them would have come inside already.

I rolled to the door and cracked it open. Five feet of hyena in a black T-shirt and jeans strained by a massive bulge; not as chubby as me but still thickset, looking down at me with eyes blue as mine: my brother.

“Buster, what the fuck, you’ll wake the whole building.”

“So answer your door faster, man! I’ve been sittin’ out here half an hour and it’s freezing out.”

I let him follow me in and shut the door. “What’re you doing here anyway? No one’s supposed to be out in all this mess.”

“I couldn’t let my little bro spend Christmas alone! Especially when I was already in town for work.”

“Since when do you have a job that takes you places?”

I spent the evening catching up with Buster. It was mostly pleasant, but he seemed to be getting more fidgety and anxious as the night went on. Eventually he reached a break in a story about the weird insurance company that’d taken him on and I had to ask him what was wrong.

“Um,” he said, looking down at the kitchen table. “Well, I did have a…different reason for coming around. I was hoping—”

He trailed off again, biting his lip.

“Do you remember Camp Cuyahoga?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes at him. “I’m not likely to forget.”

The camp counselor had called it a ‘mysterious swelling.’

Apparently that’s what they call it when you don’t tell them that the reason you’re bloated up like a parade balloon is that you were fooling around with your overproductive brother. Our parents figured it out, though, and that was the last time we ever got to play together.

And now he was here in my kitchen offering the second round we never got another chance to take.

“Buster.”

“What? I haven’t been able to unload for a week. At least, not with anyone who can take it. I figured it’d be a nice Christmas gift for ya.”

“The gift of cum-bloated immobility?”

“See, you get me! C’mon, Buck—”

“And then you get to go home and I have to push the cleanup on my caregiver.”

“Well—”

“Now, I’m not saying no, I’m saying I can’t just be your Bucket anymore. Things aren’t as easy as they were when we were younger. We both have our lives going on… Well, as much as things can be going on these days.”

“You’re right, Buck, I’m sorry. I’m here till Tuesday—I can stay with you.”

Buster followed me to my bedroom, shucking off his clothes. His monstrous balls made his dick look like a tiny nub in comparison, even though it was at least ten inches and thick. He hefted that massive scrotum and set it in my lap, grinning at how it put my belly to shame.

I embraced those massive nuts, burying my face between them and inhaling my brother’s hyena musk. “Shame these were never able to pop me,” I said, thinking of all the lucky conquests he’d busted. My brother had reduced one of my college friends to scraps at least five times I knew of—he’d kept going back for more—but I’d been blursed with stretchiness and a capacity that as near as we could tell was unlimited.

“You don’t have to splatter the walls for either of us to have a good time, buddy.” He laughed and fuzzled my headfur. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t try every time though.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky this time.” I gave his balls a squeeze. “You’re gonna have to get these off me so I can get in bed.”

He pushed forward instead, grinning as his cock loomed right in front of my muzzle. “Maybe I should blimp ya up right here. See that chair fall apart under the weight of ya…”

I gave his cockhead a smooch but pushed his nuts out of my lap. “Busted people may reform, but busted machines don’t. And I kind of need this one.”

“Fine, fine.” He let me climb into bed and steered the chair out of the room before lying down beside me, his face in my chestfur and his paw roaming over my belly. “You’re so soft,” he said.

“For now, at least.”

He reached to pull my sweatpants down, exposing a much more modest set of tackle—I’d never been too big, and the weight I’d been putting on had given me a fatpad that mostly swallowed up my junk. He rubbed over the head of my cock and started stroking over as much as he could reach. “So…you want it down your throat or up your ass?”

I spluttered. “Buster!”

He smirked, rolling over to straddle me and grind his cock against mine.

“You want me to be delicate about pumping enough cum into you to keep you from passing through doors for a week?”

He leaned in, bringing his muzzle close enough to kiss me.

“Maybe you just want me to do it, and not make you think about choices?”

He pulled back, sliding his thickness between my thighs. I felt its throb and the wetness of its pre leaking against me.

“You just want your big bro to take charge, don’t you?”

He gave me a deep kiss and pulled back.

“And turn you into a big. Fucking. Blimp.”

He moved down my body with smooches and gave my stiff cock a suckle.

“Tastes like you like that.”

I shivered and nodded hard. “Oh gosh yes.”

“Mm… Well then little brother, let’s get you big.” His muzzle pressed into my rump, and I clutched the sheets to steady myself as his tongue slid in to work my hole. Taking hold of my hips to pull me closer, he went in deep, my ass twitching around the thickest part of his tongue and making me hunger for the firmness of his cock.

He kept going till my hole was slick with saliva and my cock dripping with pre. I tried to resist jerking myself off, because I was on a hair trigger and if I came I might lose my nerve. But finally Buster pulled his muzzle away from my ass, lifting my legs over his shoulders as he scooted forward, letting his swelling nuts drag behind him as he pressed the head of that thick cock under my tail.

He let out a sigh as his dick sank into me, inch by inch, spreading me open with his girth. “Huff… Buck…”

And at last his hips met mine, his smaller belly rubbing against my hard upright cock, the furry touch bringing me immediately to climax. “Fuck… Buster…!”

My brother started pounding into me as my hole clenched around his cock with every throb of my own. It started to feel uncomfortable as orgasm faded and my body tried to tell me fun time was over—I tried asking him to slow down, but he just flexed his dick in my aching ass and gave me a big grin.

“Stay horny, bro… We ain’t stopping till the walls start creaking.”

“Buster…!”

He leaned over me, that grin widening as his thrusting got faster. “My chubby little brother, getting so full of my cum… Wanna watch this belly swell, covering the bed, bloating up to the ceiling, pressing in on all four walls, just a big relentless blob… Just a massive balloon… More cum than hyena… Fuck…”

His hips slammed into my rump as he hilted inside me, cock throbbing as his words pushed him over the edge. I felt the blasts of cum bloating my guts and the heavy fullness of cum in my belly before I started to swell with my brother’s prodigious load.

Buster put a paw on my belly as he continued to flood it with his seed, watching it fill out like a time-lapse pregnancy. There was a dull ache as my stomach and my hide reached their natural limit, but it faded into a sense of euphoria as my stretchiness kicked in, allowing me to fill more than any natural hyena should.

In moments my sides grew over the edges of the bed, my massive beach-ball gut taut with fullness and obscuring my grinning brother from view. His paws explored the underside of my gut as my growth slowly pushed him backwards.

I don’t know how he managed to stay inside me as I heard him go off the edge of the bed likewise, but somehow he did, cock pulsing each shot of his load into my straining gut.

The mass of cum put pressure on the back of my throat and I tried to keep it down, but as my swelling torso began to engulf my head in a dark tunnel that blocked out all view of the room I couldn’t help blurping up mouthfuls of cum into the confined space.

It wasn’t enough to outweigh Buster’s load, though, and it wasn’t long before my belly hit the ceiling—a point of pressure above me that spread as I continued to fill. The gurgling of the endless cum in my belly filled my ears.

My gut hit the wall to the left of me, then the wall to the right a moment later, while my brother still ground into my hole. It was hard to tell where he was—my body wasn’t used to being shaped like this, and the finer points of how my growing flab was ballooning were lost. Was he still being pushed back ever further, soon to be stuffed in the closet by my burgeoning growth? Was he flat on his back on the floor, buried under the weight of his own handiwork?

All I could tell was that I felt the pressure of all four walls before he pulled out of me, cum gushing both from and against my hole as my brother’s cock and my overfilled ass each tried to slow their respective flows.

Buster’s paws rubbed over as much of my blimped-out gut as he could reach, continuing to grind his fat cock against me. I could tell he was trying to tell me something, but the tens of tons of cum between us muffled everything but the vibration.

Oh well. He’d find his way out eventually, and it wasn’t like he could meaningfully expect anything from me for a while anyway.

What a way to ring out the year, I thought, settling in for a good few days of rest.

It was just starting to snow when I got to the mall, just a few minutes before I was due to service one of the vending machines. Business had been unusually brisk this season, and the machines had all been in place for a few years now and were starting to show their age. I didn’t complain; it was sort of in my best interest to keep anyone from realizing it’d be cheaper to replace the machines than it would be to keep paying the repairman.

The machine in the mall was near the food court—at least, as near to the food court as the health code allowed—so it got a lot of foot traffic.

Curious folks.

Depressed folks.

Kinky fuckers.

At the end of a row of other machines selling gumballs, Pepsi, candy bars, and personal electronics, was the one I’d come to repair—no wares to offer, just a solid black front with a circular hole, “PAY 50 CENTS ABOVE” on a lit panel above it and “CUT YOUR DICK OFF HERE” on a darkened panel below it.

As I approached, a chubby panda was positioning a green plastic stepping stool in front of the machine. He stepped up on it to get his crotch at the correct level, and reached into a pocket to find the appropriate change.

I figured it couldn’t hurt to watch the machine and verify its operation.

The panda fed a couple of quarters into the machine, and the “PAY 50 CENTS ABOVE” panel darkened and the panel below lit up with “CUT OFF YOUR DICK HERE.” It took a clever eye to notice the word “OFF” was on the other side of “YOUR DICK” when the sign lit up; I had thought it was just an inconsistent translation, but apparently there had once been an animation planned—of “OFF” passing through “YOUR DICK” like a knife—that didn’t play too well with the focus groups.

He hurriedly undid his belt and released a hard three-inch cock, heedless of the random people walking by him. Why should he care if anyone saw his dick? He was just about to throw it away.

Indeed, no one else even seemed to notice as he pressed himself against the machine, compressing his belly enough to stick his rod into the hole. There was a shnick that echoed in the open space, followed by a much less prominent thunk as the panda’s severed cock fell into the dispenser slot.

The panda gave his crotch an experimental rub, almost getting lost in the pleasure of his new sweet spot before realizing he was masturbating in public. As he hurried to put his pants back on, the machine reset itself, once again requesting 50 cents.

And then the sweep bar engaged, sliding the panda’s severed cock away into the innards of the machine.

“Hey!” he yelped, banging on the machine as I rushed up to him. “Stupid thing ate my dick!”

“Safety measure,” I said. “A lot of folks who get their dicks cut off just want to leave them behind, so the machine’s designed to store and preserve them if they aren’t picked up. Can’t just have a bunch of random body parts lying around, especially not this close to the food court—”

The panda was looking up at me, the strange lion that’d just accosted him, looming two or three feet above him in overalls and toolbelt. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry. I’m Dardan, the maintenance guy. It’s supposed to wait at least five minutes before it sweeps the discard; that’s actually what I’m here to fix. Uh, if you don’t mind waiting a minute or two I can probably recover your dick for you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” he said. “I’m Keith.” He extended his paw to meet my offered handshake, but immediately withdrew it as he realized where it’d just been.

“No worries, Keith. If I may?”

The panda stepped aside, and I kicked the stepping stool out of the way so I could unlock the front of the machine.

The instant I turned the key I felt the weight inside trying to push it open, but my reflexes weren’t fast enough to stop opening the door. “Fuck!”

A landslide of cocks spilled out onto the floor—the machine had clearly been malfunctioning for a while before anyone had thought to report it.

There must have been hundreds of them, in all shapes and colors and in every size that could fit in the machine’s slot. Most of them had landed in a pile around my feet, but many were rolling across the corridor, obstructing foot traffic.

“Sorry dude, I’m gonna have to clean up this mess. Can you watch this for a second?”

I left Keith guarding the discarded cocks while I ran to the nearest shop to grab a couple of bags big enough to collect everything, and soon he was helping me scoop them all up.

“We’ll have to sort yours out in the van. We can’t really hang out here with them,” I said. “C’mon.”

The panda followed me out to my van in the heavy snowfall, each of us carrying a big Abercrombie & Fitch bag full of cut-off penises.

“What usually happens with these, anyway?”

“Eh, nothing really. I mean, the company doesn’t collect them or anything… There aren’t really supposed to be this many in the first place. Usually I just toss them.”

“You never play with them?”

“Well…” I set down my bag of dicks to unlock the rear door of the van. “Not usually. It’s like, if it wasn’t good enough for them, maybe I shouldn’t want it either. Though I’ll admit, there’ve been a few fun or impressive examples I’ve held on to for a bit. They, uh, wear out quickly though.”

Keith climbed into the van with me and started rummaging through the assorted cocks in search of his own.

He pulled out a foot-and-a-half horse cock and gave it a sniff, before holding it in both hands and gazing at it longingly. “If it were me I’d…I’d get one of those molds to clone ’em…”

I laughed. “Yeah, but at that point you may as well buy a dildo, right?”

The panda sighed. “I guess you’re right.” He picked up the cock again, brought it to his muzzle, and gave it an experimental lick.

And stopped short when he realized I was watching him.

“Uh, sorry, I just—”

“Don’t worry about it, dude. I do the same thing.” To reassure him, I pulled a smaller dick out of the bag I had in front of me and popped it into my mouth whole. “They can be pretty comforting to suckle on.”

The blush that lit up on his face only brightened further when I added: “You know, if you’d rather practice on a live one…”

He tossed the horse cock back in the bag immediately and leaned closer, reaching under my gut to undo the button and pull down the zipper on my pants. “I want— I don’t usually—”

My thick shaft was in his muzzle before he could get a sentence out, but I knew what he was asking. “A lot hornier than usual? A lot of guys feel the same after getting it chopped off. It’s like super chastity for making you focus on other men’s cocks. And I’m sure it doesn’t help being in an enclosed space breathing in the musk of a hundred or so dicks…”

Keith was squirming to get out of his pants as he sucked me off, tongue working hungrily over my barbs. I stroked behind his ears as he started furiously rubbing the patch above his balls where his dick used to be, making a soft slapping sound that got wetter and wetter as his paw was drenched in the pre leaking from the tiny hole that remained under his pubic fur.

I reached into the bag beside me and pulled out a slender canine shaft—its end still bulbous from where its owner had knotted the machine—and reached over Keith to tease his rump with it, sliding the tip along the cleft of his cheeks till he was grinding back against it, desperate to fill his hole.

“Please,” he begged, releasing my cock from his muzzle. “I want to feel that in me…”

I smirked and tossed it back in the bag. “When you’re alone, dude. For now, ride the one you’re not taking home with you.”

He returned his attention to my cock, getting it fully slick with his saliva before turning around and backing his round rump up against it. I put a paw on his back, pressed my cockhead against his hole, and slowly sank in.

Keith squealed out a pain full of need, pushing his hips back for more, and I was soon hilted inside him, feeling the wetness of his precum-coated thighs against mine.

As I started thrusting into him, he reached out for one of the bags, burying his face in the collected cocks and drinking in their scent with every gasp of breath.

The van rocked slightly under us as I pounded his ass, so I slowed down my thrusts and returned to slowly pulling out and grinding in deep against those tight inner walls. I reached under his belly as he whimpered out for more and wrapped a paw around his balls, giving them a tug that made him cry out and slam his hips back against me.

“Oh fuck,” he said, as I kneaded what remained of his genitals, making his hole pulse around my cock in a way that made me throb hard in response. “Oh…fuck!”

He pulled his head from the bag of cocks and reached in, pulling out a stiff three-inch member. “Found it…”

The longing look in his eyes that he’d given the horse cock returned, deepening into something like a trance as he held his own disembodied cock to his nose, breathing in its scent, suckling at its tip…

“I can’t feel it… It’s just a…a thing, now…”

His whole body shuddered as the realization brought him to climax, his tight hole milking my cock as his own cum gushed over his balls. I leaned over him and plucked his cock from his paw, whispering in his ear about how a good dickless bear like him didn’t need a silly little toy like that as I ground in deep and finished in his ass.

I tossed the lifeless member back in the other sack and pulled out of him, one last spurt of cum covering his hole as I did.

“Now, you won’t ask for that dick back again, will ya Keith? You’re just gonna be that good toy you fantasized about being when you stuck your dick in that machine. None of these castoffs will do it for you—you need the real thing. Isn’t that right?”

His whimper might almost have been read as protest if you didn’t notice his newly-vacated tailhole flexing with need.

“Wanna hear you say it, bear.”

“I—I’m a toy. I didn’t need that dick. I need…more…”

He was watching my softening cock with a hunger, like he wanted to swallow it again even though it’d just been up his ass.

“Don’t look at me, dude, I’m done with ya. Get yer clothes back on. March your ass right back into that mall, find you a nice restroom stall, and start takin’ some dick.”

As I watched him stumbling back through the parking lot cinching up his pants, I pulled his dick back out of the bag. Preserved at its full stiffness, three inches of panda cock. I know a guy or two who love to tease small dicks…

I reached down and released the trick that held my cock in place, hearing the wet thwack as it hit the bare metal floor of the van. In a moment, Keith’s cock was being pressed to the same spot the one I’d been using had been, and it melded to my body easily with a feeling of pins and needles as life flowed into it again.

Always nice to give the castoffs a new home.

I picked up the spilled bag of cocks, adding my old one to the pile, and headed off to my next job, precum soaking my boxers.