Slob Control - Peter's Enslavement (Part 3)

Half an hour later, they laid on the bed together, their hairy bellies sticky with sweat and several loads of Peter’s cum that he’d shot between them before finally collapsing beside his Master. “That was good, slave,” Bill said, rolling over and running his hand through Peter’s new beard, “You’ve made me very, very pleased, this afternoon.”

“I...Thank...Sir...” Peter said, not quite certain how to respond. He’d enjoyed it, but only because he’d been compelled to do so. The pleasure, though, was undeniable. He’d never felt this kind of lust, this kind of sheer, hedonistic delight before in his life. “I...we can’t...please, I can’t stay like this, you have to change me back, Sir.”

Bill just smirked at him. “Why? You didn’t enjoy yourself immensely?”

“I...I did. But Michelle, and...I can’t just show up to work looking like this, and...and this, we can’t, just, live like this, it’s not...it’s not...right.”

Bill just laughed. “Who says it’s not right, or good? Last time I checked, I get to make those rules now, pig.”

“This is crazy, you can’t just...make me...like this.”

“I can, and I did, and I have no intention of changing you back, either. You’re my pig slave now, and that hole of yours is way too good to let go of now.”

“But my life, I can’t--”

“Here, first things first,” Bill said, as he hefted himself out of his bed, muttered a little incantation, and the spellbook appeared in his hands from nowhere. “Damn that’s handy. Let’s see, first, let’s finalize that body shifting spell...”

Bill flipped the pages, muttered a spell under his breath, and Peter felt that odd tingle again all over his body--but this time, it was almost in...reverse. There was something else happening, like all of this potential he’d been imbued with was evaporating, his body growing solid, and real in ways he couldn’t quite explain. “Tell me slave, what did you look like when you came into my house today. Do you remember?”

“I...I was...” Peter said, but while he knew that Bill had changed him, as far as his memory could tell, he’d always looked like this. It wasn’t true, and yet, his memories, all of it. “I...I don’t remember. But I was different, I know I was!”

“Go check your wallet then.”

They went back out into the living room, he dug his wallet out of his pant’s pocket, and sure enough, it was his new face, his new weight--all of it. It was real. This was real now, like it had always been him.

“I own you slave. I own your fucking reality,” Bill said, “You think I’m going to let something like society, or laws, or rules stop me? You should feel honored that I chose you to be my first. I’m tired of being an outcast, a freak. From now on, everyone is going to bow to me. This is my world now, and you’re going to love it, trust me.”

“You...you can’t just...” Peter said, but realized it wasn’t true. He could. Bill could, and clearly, he wasn’t going to stop here.

Bill flipped through the book again, landed on a page, and said a different incantation. As he did, Peter felt his head begin to ache, but not like before, when he’d been put into that trance. This felt like someone was digging into his head, into his memories, into his very reality. The divorce. How he’d come to the realization, a decade ago, that he was gay. That he’d always been gay, and miserable with Michelle. She hadn’t taken it well. He hadn’t seen her in ages, and she’d gotten near total custody of Sean, their son in the process. He’d lived here, alone, all that time, now, single and gay and...and something else. There was more coming, too.

How he’d started making up for lost time. How he’d quickly realized he preferred quantity over quality. That with his tiny cock, he could only real be a bottom, so he better be a good one. He didn’t play golf anymore--no, he spent his free time sucking cock, preferably anonymous ones, usually at the adult video store a couple miles down the road, in the gloryholes, where he could just be a mouth, or an ass. That, and the gym. He went to the gym everyday, keeping his muscular build up, even as he got older, and fatter by the year. That, and work--he still worked at the same place, still had the same job.

The ache in his mind started to subside, leaving him exhausted. He fell to his knees, trying to cling to the reality, the history that was already vanishing from his mind, from his thoughts. Just a shadow was left, a hole, enough to know that something he’d treasured was gone forever. “You...what did you...do to me?”

“I ruined you, slave,” Bill said, getting down beside him on the floor, and pulling him close. “The only thing you have, now, is me. That’s the way it should be, right? A good slave can’t have other distractions from your service. Besides, that blowjob you gave me before was terrible, I needed to make sure you got your skills up, and got rid of that gag reflex. I can’t shift too much at once--even that was pushing it a bit, but I didn’t want you having anything to regret. I just want my old muscle slave to be happy--and nothing makes you happier than going to the gym, sucking tons of cock, and servicing your master every day, of course. That’s all you have left now. It could, I suppose, be worse, couldn’t it? Why don’t you thank me for giving you the life you deserve, slave.”

“Th-Thank you Master.”

“You’re welcome, slave. Now get home. Your service is done for today.”

Peter got dressed in his clothes--his filthier, much larger clothes than what he’d had on before, kissed his Master’s gut goodbye, and left. Evening was falling. He stepped down the porch, still feeling a bit unsteady in his new body. He saw his house next door, now it just as much disrepair as his Master’s was. Inside, the floor was littered with pizza boxes and old take out. He didn’t want to be here though. He could feel everything that Master had taken from him still, little ghosts of old feelings that he couldn’t recall, but that still lingered at the back of his mind. Besides, he was starving--and not for food. He got in his dirty jeep and drove to the sex shop, where the guy behind the counter knew him by first name. He went right to the gloryholes, got on his knees, and soon was sucking cock. It felt good, being wanted, being needed, even if it was just his mouth, and the cum tasted so good, and filled him up in ways that he’d grown to crave over the years. When he was satisfied, the front of his jeans was soaked with precum, like usual, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to cum until he was back with his Master. Back where he belonged. The only place where a dirty old pig could possibly be needed. It was all he had now--he could see that. As much as he wanted to hate Bill for it, he couldn’t. He loved him. He loved him in ways he could barely fathom. He’d do anything for him, now. He was Bill’s slave now, in body, mind, and soul.

***

Anyway, that's as far as we'll go with Peter for now. He'll return eventually, but tomorrow, we'll see what else Bill has in store for the men in his life.