(Suggested Story) The Pine Gulch Motel, Room 14 - The Smoking Room (Part 2)

(CW: a rather dark ending)

Ryan pounded on the little bell on the front desk a few more times, and then peered over the counter, trying to see his way into the office door that was cracked open. He was sure that he heard someone in there when he came in, but when he’d rang the bell a few times, nothing had happened. Now he’d been standing here for close to five minutes, and was certain he was simply being ignored. “Hey, are you back there? I have a fucking issue with the room you gave us, can you fucking come out here and help me?” No one appeared. Beyond frustrated now, he walked around the counter, poked his head into the office, and discovered that it was empty. He gave a sigh, wondering where the man who’d helped them check in could have gone, but in the meantime, decided to head back to the room and see how Matt was doing. He left the desk and went back outside, crossed the parking lot back to room 14, patted his pockets down, and discovered that his key was gone.

He could have sworn he’d put it in his coat pocket when he’d left the room. Matt was inside at least, so he knocked on the door, but even though he could hear something going on inside, Matt didn’t let him in—and he knew there was no way he couldn’t hear him. He tried shouting even, but Matt never came. Confused, he wondered if he might have had the wrong room—but the car was right there, and he knew which room they’d gone into. He headed back to the desk, hoping that maybe the attendant had returned, so he could get a replacement key. He ended up having to wait there for close to half an hour, and was surprised when the short fellow appeared out of the office, even though Ryan hadn’t seen he slip past him through the main door. “Ah, something I can help you with Sir? Do you need a room for the night?” the man said.

“You already gave us a room—you helped me just an hour ago.”

“Ah, sorry, my memory is sometimes a little rough these nights. Is there something wrong with the room?”

“Yeah, there is,” Ryan said, “You gave us a smoking room—I’d like to be moved to a non-smoking room please.”

“Ah, which room did I give you again?” the man said, looking at the keys hanging behind him.

“Room 14.”

“14? Oh, there must be some kind of mistake. 14 has already been checked out.”

“Yeah, it was checked out by us!”

“No—no, no. The man in 14 is one of our weekly tenants you see.”

“What? You gave us a room that was already someone else’s? There wasn’t anything else in there though—the place was empty!”

“Hmm…well, I can give you a non-smoking room if you wish,” the attendant said.

“Well, there’s a problem first,” Ryan said, “I left the key in the room, and I can’t get the door open, and my friend can’t seem to hear me when I knock—I think he must have fallen asleep in there. I need to him and our stuff out of there first.”

“I see, again, I’m very sorry,” the attendant said with a smile missing a few teeth, “Let me get my master key, and we’ll get you situated.”

The attendant took the master key off the hook, and led the way across the parking lot, back to room 14. The attendant gave the door a few knocks first, and much to Ryan’s surprise, a voice responded on the other side of the door—a voice that he didn’t recognize. “Who the fuck is it?”

“Apologies Mattie,” the attendant said, “I seem to made a mistake with some new arrivals. Could we perhaps come in, and see if this fellow’s bags are in there? He claims that he left them in here earlier.”

“There’s no shit in here other than my shit,” the voice replied.

“Might we take a look, just in case?”

There was a grumble and grouse, the rustling of some clothes, and a few moments later, the door opened, and Mattie stood in the doorway. Burly, hairy, his belly dusted with ash from the massive cigar he was smoking, staining the graying beard covering his face. Ryan looked at the man, confused—where then, was Matt? He followed the attendant into the room, past the massive cigar smoking bear, and looked around. The room was a dingy mess, and it looked like Mattie had been living here for quite a few weeks, from the state of things. It didn’t make any sense. It was the same room he’d been in with Matt before. He turned and stared at Matty again, at the eyes, the nose, the ears, the freckles—and felt his stomach drop out from under him, even as Mattie seemed to be putting the same thoughts together.

“R-Ryan?” Mattie said.

“Matt? What the fuck happened to you?”

He looked over at the attendant, who was still smiling, though a bit more menacingly. “I do believe Mattie here was enjoying some of the room’s amenities—is the bottomless humidor to your satisfaction? Perhaps you would enjoy a cigar with a bit more…substance?”

The cigar Mattie was smoking grew thicker, and swirled around Ryan where he was standing in the room, obscuring him from view entirely. All he heard was some painful, shocked moans, and then silence. When the smoke cleared, there was no sign of Ryan at all—just a massive cigar lying on the floor of the hotel room, easily twice as large as the ones Mattie had been smoking, which the attendant bent down and picked up, and smelled. “Ah, he made a nice, rich one, don’t you think?” he said, and held it up to Mattie’s nose.

The leaf smelled divine, and Mattie felt his cock twitch at the thought of smoking the massive cigar which, moments before, had been his boyfriend. The attendant pulled it away from him, and set it down on the desk, before heading for the door. “No—wait, you…you can’t leave him like that. He didn’t do anything, I…I’m the one who fucked up and smoked those cigars…”

“Ah, but all that bell ringing of his was getting on my nerves,” the attendant said, “I’ll tell you what. If you still haven’t smoked him by the time the sun rises, I’ll change you both back, and you can be on your way, no harm done. He asked you to quit, after all. It’s the least you could do for him,” the attendant laughed, and closed the door behind him, leaving Matt—or Mattie, alone with the massive cigar.

He checked the humidor, but what had been bottomless before, was now entirely empty. He tore the room apart, checking every pocket of his filthy clothes, hoping for something half smoked, some cigarettes, some chew, anything, but all there was, was that massive cigar, taunting him, and it had smelled so fucking good. He couldn’t resist after a couple of hours, telling himself he’d just smoke a little of it. It wouldn’t count if it was just a little, right? He punched the end, put it in his mouth, fired up his torch, and he heard Ryan scream in his mind as he set him alight, and drew the smoke through him.

He threw the cigar down on the desk again, his mind quiet once more. He couldn’t do it. He certainly couldn’t do it if he was going to have to listen to that the entire time. Ah hour passed, and the cravings grew intense and irresistible. Once more, he lit the cigar, the scream piercing, but Ryan had to understand, right? It hurt. It ached. It gnawed at him with an intensity he’d never known. He could hear Ryan as he smoked the cigar, begging him, pleading with him to stop, and Matt tried to reason with him, tried to explain, and rationalize, and bargain, but in the end, all he could do was accept the truth. He hardened himself against Ryan’s voice as it grew weaker. Found himself enjoying it even, his big cock hardening, and he jacked off, enjoying the thought that Ryan was at his mercy. With a massive inhale, and just an inch left of Ryan’s cigar, he came. A massive torrent of cum poured out of him, all over his ash dusted gut, and the last inch of the cigar dissolved into ash, and fell into Mattie’s gray beard.

Ryan was gone. Mattie didn’t even remember him now, he’d been wiped from his mind, and from the world. When dawn came, and the attendant knocked and asked if there was anything he could do for Mattie during his stay, Mattie mentioned how amazing that cigar had been that he’d dropped off last night, and wanted to know where to find them.

“Oh Mattie—a cigar pig like you can make them yourself! It’s really quite easy. Would you like me to show you how?”

“Fuck yeah—I’d love it.”

The attendant smiled, knowing that Ryan would be far from the last man that Mattie smoked into ash, and far from the last soul swallowed whole, by the PiG Motel.