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Episode 4

***WARNING*** This episode contains graphic depictions of raunch, fisting, and light scat. If any of these fetishes disturb you (and they probably should) I advise that you read no further. This is a work of fiction, and the behaviors depicted in this piece should stay that way.

It was the first party he had gone to since breaking up with Rachel, and Henry couldn't have been happier. Now, he could go to the parties he wanted to go to, talk to people he wanted to talk to (including other women, which Rachel had forbidden) and be happy as a single man once again. He'd forgotten how good it was to be free. It was a good party too, and that helped. It was being thrown by some of his football buddies, partially as a celebration of the fact that he had finally broken up with that witch, but no one had said so explicitly. But that wasn't really important. At that moment, all he was really interested in was Jamie, and she seemed as interested in him, he hoped.

Henry was one of the rising stars on the varsity football team, and that was one of the reasons Rachel had been so attracted to him. He was handsome, smart, and for the most part, a genuinely nice guy, which didn't happen very often in the same package. Of course, given the fact that the night had started so well, it could only have ended badly. It all started when Paula, Denise, and Maddie spotted him across the room, glared at each other, and started over towards where he was chatting with Jane.

Around campus, Rachel, Paula, Denise and Maddie were known as the fierce four, and they had earned that name. Rachel was the ringleader, and the only reason those three would have been at the party was to make Henry's life a living hell. All four of them tried to look as much like one another as possible, but they all had defining characteristics. Paula, for example, had always been a bit thicker, even though she worked out more than the others. Denise was the cruelest, and liked to humiliate people for the fun of it. Maddie was the most athletic, and was on the rowing team. She was also the craftiest, and the second in command behind Rachel, so she was the first one to speak as they neared, "Girl, what the hell are you doing talking to him? Don't you know anything?"

Jane didn't. In fact, she didn't even know who these girls were. "Excuse me? Who are you?" she said, getting a bit defensive. Henry felt his stomach turn into an empty pit. Who in the hell had let these three in?

"Look," Denise said, putting her hand on Jane's shoulder, "We're just looking out for your best interests, girlfriend. This guy is nothing but trouble."

"Haven't you heard the rumors going around about him?" Paula chimed in. Henry knew that if he didn't say something fast, he would have no shot of stopping this.

"Look, don't listen to them. They're only here because I broke up with their friend."

"Oh, don't listen to him, girl. You know what I heard about him?" Maddie said, and whispered something in Jane's ear, who recoiled in disgust.

"What? That's disgusting!"

"No kidding," Denise said, "But that's not the worst of it. I heard that..." she whispered something else, and Jane just looked at Henry in disgust.

"You're fucking sick," she spat, and stormed off, leaving Henry surrounded by the three bitches from hell. They looked at him, waiting for him to beg for their forgiveness, to go crawling back to Rachel, but Henry was so angry, he didn't even care. "You know what? Say what you want. It just proves that you're the jealous bitches that everyone knows you are. Besides, just because you say something doesn't make it true," he said, and then stormed off.

He heard them laughing at him as he walked away, but Henry didn't care. He wasn't about to go apologize to Rachel. Besides, she was the one who had cheated on him! He figured that the whole thing would just blow over eventually if he waited it out, so that's what he would do. He headed back to the keg for another beer, and while he was pumping, he thought about just getting out and going home. But why should be cancel his plans just because those three bitches had shown up? That wouldn't solve anything. He should just try to have a good night, even if by the end of it everyone there thought he was a scumbag.

But despite he attempts to have a positive outlook, his mood was irreparably damaged. He thought about dancing a bit, but he just didn't really feel like it. He knew a beer pong game was going in the basement as well, but he didn't really feel like getting smashed. Instead, he found an empty chair in the corner of the room, and nursed his beer for a while. Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't notice the massive guy making a beeline for him until he was halfway across the room. He was tall, even taller than Henry, and definitely a lot wider. He had on a flannel shirt which was unbuttoned, and under that he had on only a wife beater, stretched over his substantial gut that extended out in front of him like a beach ball. Two suspenders ran up on either side, that held up a pair of grubby looking jeans and made his stomach look all the larger. He was balding badly, and had a thick beard on his face as well. He couldn't have been less than forty years old, and definitely didn't belong at a college party. But as he approached, a name came to him. This man was Paul, though Henry didn't know how he knew that. And for some reason, he knew that he was supposed to be here, even though that didn't make any sense at all either. By the time his head had managed to sort this out, it was too late to get out of the way, and Paul had him cornered, his massive belly blocking any exit out of the chair.

"What do you want, Paul?" Henry asked. He was annoyed at him, but he didn't know why. Where did he know him from, and why was he so familiar? It seemed like he had just talked to him moments ago.

"Oh, not much. I just wanted to tell you something."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"I've been hearing some rumors about you, Henry."

Henry just rolled his eyes. Apparently things had been spreading faster than he thought, "Yeah, well you can't believe everything that you hear."

"Well, I've heard that you've really been letting yourself go lately. Eating massive amounts of food at all-you-can-eat buffets, pigging out on pizza at home. You've been getting so fat, that they threw you off the football team last year. You're even beginning to look like a pig." Henry said nothing, and just waited for Paul to finish. It obviously wasn't true; he could look down for himself and see his ripped abs and tight pecs. How low had Rachel gotten to spread such a blatant lie?

"I also heard that you've been letting your hygiene slip. You haven't cut your hair or beard in months, and you don't even wash them, that is, when you can even be bothered to take a shower. You also quit shaving yourself, and all of your body hair has grown in. You don't even bother to wear clothes that fit you properly anymore. You're a fucking slob. The funniest part is that you apparently like it."

"I think you can see, right in front of you, that none of the things you just said are true." Paul just laughed, "Well, we'll see, Henry. We'll see," and then he turned around and lumbered off.

What a prick, Henry thought, and chugged the rest of his beer, and let out a loud belch, making some of the people nearby turn and stare at him. He just glared back, but felt his stomach rumble. Dang, he was hungry all of the sudden! Good thing the guys planning the party had ordered a bunch of pizza. With a little more effort than he expected, he hefted himself out of the chair, and wandered into the kitchen, where a collection of pizza boxes littered the counters and table. He grabbed a plate, and started piling slices on top of it. He knew he shouldn't eat this much, but who would know? It's not like he was eating all of the pizza, there was still plenty left. In fact, he could probably afford a few more pieces, even, so he piled on a few more. Then, he sat in a nearby chair, his stomach now growling audibly at him, and started cramming slice after slice into his mouth. He didn't even care how it tasted--he just wanted it in him. He slammed down five pieces in about ten minutes, and was still hungry. No one had come in during that whole time, so Henry just grabbed a nearby pizza box and started eating the remaining half right there and then.

As he ate, some part of him was telling him that this was wrong. He shouldn't be behaving like this, he had football to think about! But the next moment, that thought seemed really strange. Hadn't he gotten kicked off the football team? That thought made him remember what Paul had said just minutes ago, and Henry stopped eating long enough to look down at himself, and freaked.

Sometime in the last ten minutes, he must have gained close to a hundred pounds, or maybe more. Gone were his ripped abs, replaced by a gut, or rather, an apron which hung down between his legs where he sat. On top of that, two massive man tits stretched his T-shirt tight across them, so tight that he could see his nipples, which had expanded in size as well. His thighs had lost most of their definition, and had doubled in size, not to mention his flabby, ham like arms. He threw the pizza box back on the table, and pushed himself up. He had to get to a mirror. He hustled as fast as he could to the closest bathroom, his hustle actually resembling a quick waddle. As he walked, he could feel his fat thighs rubbing up against one another, and his belly shivered with every step. He could also feel a bit of a draft against the lowest hanging part, which he could only imagine meant that at least a couple of inches had to be hanging past the bottom of his tightly filled shirt. He could also feel his pants slipping down as he moved, exposing his ass crack for everyone to see. A couple of times, he stopped and tried to pull it back up, but he eventually just gave up and hoped they wouldn't just fall down around his ankles. As he passed the other partiers, they invariably stopped and stared at the fat ass passing by them, and this just made Henry feel even worse. He got to the bathroom, and thankfully found it empty. He rushed in, and locked the door behind him, before looking at himself in the mirror.

Of all the things he saw, what drew his attention wasn't his new, fat body, it was the massive mane of hair which now surrounded his head. His hair now fell past his shoulders in thick waves, and looked greasy and matted, like it hadn't been combed in weeks. His beard was a similar length, and looked equally unkempt, and hung down almost to his chest. Even his face looked fatter, with two puffy cheeks, and it looked like his eyebrows had grown thicker as well. He could also see that a massive second chin had formed around his neck, but most of it was obscured by his beard, thankfully. Something he also hadn't noticed earlier was that his entire body was covered with a seeming forest of curly brown hairs, even on his knuckles. He hadn't been that hairy before. He also hadn't been fat, and hadn't looked like a total slob...or had he?

Sure, he'd let himself go a little...ok, he'd let himself go a lot. But who cared? He gave his belly a scratch, and watched his shirt ride up a little higher, revealing a deep, wide belly button. Sure, he wasn't attractive in any sense of the word, but who wanted to be attractive? All those practices and hours in the gym, why did it matter? Especially when what he really wanted to do was get drunk and eat until he felt like he was going to burst. He had mostly come to the party tonight because he had heard about the pizza and near bottomless beer. He'd already demolished two pizzas without anyone noticing, hadn't he? And what was the deal with Paul earlier? Everyone could see that he had turned into a total slob, but why should he care? Henry pulled up his shirt, which was looking frayed, and had quite a few stains on it, and let his gut fall all the way out, and started rubbing it. It actually felt kind of good, and in his dirty jeans, he could feel his dick start to get hard. He knew that it shouldn't feel good, but so what if it did? He had always been so uptight before, why not just let it all go? His stomach gurgled a bit, and Henry let out a loud fart, but even that felt right. He liked being a slob, and he wasn't about to stop just because some people didn't like it.

He pulled his shirt down, happily leaving some of his hairy apron exposed, hiked up his jeans a bit, and decided to go demolish another pizza, just because he could. He unlocked the door, and opened it, but found his way blocked by a man. Henry's first thought was that no man could look that muscular. Well muscular didn't really describe it well enough--steroid ridden would have been a better word. He had a shaved head, though it was scruffy, along with his face, as though he hadn't bothered shaving for a few days, and his entire body looked like it had been blown up to Popeye proportions. He wore a tight shirt which looked like he could burst out of it at any minute, and bleached jeans stretched tight enough that Henry could easily make out the sizable bulge within them which snaked down one of his pant legs. On his feet he wore tall doc martin boots, the leather shiny and newly polished. However, it was the eyes which filled Henry with unease. They were exceptionally cruel eyes, the irises nearly black. And they were leering at him. At first, he didn't recognize the man, but as with Paul earlier, his brain supplied a name for him: Dennis.

"Get out of my way, Dennis," Henry said, trying not to sound scared, but part of him was scared. This guy could cream him to a pulp, if he wanted.

"Nah, I've been waiting to talk to you, Henry. See, I've been hearing some things about you recently that I thought you should know about."

Henry felt his stomach drop. Hadn't this just happened a bit earlier? Part of him wanted to plug his ears, but he couldn't. All he could do was ask, a bit nervously, "Oh yeah? What?"

Dennis smirked, and leaned in close to Henry, "Some people have been saying that you're gay Henry." He waited for a reaction, but Henry didn't give him one, so he just continued, "Not only that, but they say you're a total pervert. All you think about is sex, all the time. You hit on every guy you talk to, just to try and get them into bed. Of course, not many guys want to have sex with you, so you just beg them to fuck you, or to let you suck their cock. Not to mention the fact that you're so fat, and your dick is so small, that you wouldn't be able to fuck anyone anyway!" "That isn't true," Henry said, but he found his voice wavering a little. Dennis was suddenly not just a brute, but a really attractive brute. And Henry was feeling really horny all of a sudden. Henry tried to force the thought away, but every time he tried, it just became stronger. He wanted Dennis to fuck him, and he wanted it badly.

"Not only that," Dennis continued, "You've also gotten all sorts of lewd tattoos during the last few months, not to mention a ton of piercings. I've heard that you did it because you're a total exhibitionist--you love showing off your fat body, so you started wearing all sorts of revealing leather outfits, just to get people's attention. You're a sex pig, and you want everyone to know it."

Henry tried to listen to what Dennis was saying, but was too busy thinking about that massive cock, and what it would be like to suck on, or feel it up his ass. He needed that cock, no matter what it took. "Shut up, get in here, and fuck me already," was all Henry could say. He couldn't resist it anymore. He hadn't had sex in hours, and he was so god damn horny!

Dennis just laughed, "You? Why would I want to fuck a fat, filthy ass like yours? If you want my cock, you're going to have to be more polite than that."

"Please, will you fuck me? God, I'm so horny," Henry said, his dick now rigid.

"Get on your knees and beg, then I'll consider it," was all Dennis said.

Henry knelt down, and licked his lips. He was so close to that cock, he could almost taste it. "Please, fuck me Dennis, I need your hot cock up my ass. I'll do anything you want, please."

"Clean my boots, you fucking whore."

Without a second thought, Henry got down and started licking at the leather, the only thing on his mind how much he needed this skinhead's cock up his ass. It was so empty, and his dick was so hard. He'd do anything for it.

He finished one boot, and got started on the other one, while Dennis rained abuse down on him from above. "Look at you," he said, "you're so desperate for cock that you'll do anything, won't you? You'd drink my piss, be my toilet just so I'm pump a load up your ass, isn't that right? You'd be my slave, obey my every order, just to feel my dick slamming down your throat." Henry just nodded, never taking his tongue away from the leather. A moment later, Dennis pushed him off with his foot, making Henry sit back onto the floor, the linoleum cold on his bare ass, which was shown off through the leather chaps he was wearing.

"I suppose I'll give you a fucking, since you need it so much. Get up," Dennis said, and Henry stood, turned around, and braced himself against the counter, face to face with himself in the mirror. Dennis pulled out his dick, spat in his hand for lube, and then in one push, shoved the entire shaft up Henry's ass.

He screamed, half in pain, half in pleasure. This is what he wanted, what he needed. He'd do anything to feel this all the time. He could feel his own three inch dick rock hard in the pouch of his leather jockstrap, and wanted to jack off, but knew he wouldn't be able to reach it past all of his fat. After the first few painful moments, his ass adjusted to Dennis's dick, and every thrust past his prostate just made Henry shiver in pleasure. He looked at himself in the mirror, and noticed that something looked different, but he couldn't figure it out, through his sexual haze. He examined the tattoos of fleshy penises braiding themselves up his arms, past his shoulders, and all the way to his fat tits, where they were spurting puddles of cum onto his chest. Across his belly, written in bold letters were the words "SEXPIG" large enough that they could be read across a large room. On his back, he remembered, he had gotten a tattoo of a man fucking an ass, as seen from the top down. All he had on was a leather harness, chaps, jockstrap and boots, which did nothing to obscure all of the explicit images which covered nearly every part of his body.

Besides the tattoos, he was heavily pierced as well. Through his nipples, he had two massive rings which he loved guys to pull on while they fucked him. Both of his ears were heavily pierced with a multitude of rings and studs. He also had on earrings which were sculptures of a cock and balls hanging from his lobes. He had a massive septum in his nose, as well as several piercings in his eyebrows and lips, not to mention his tongue stud. Guys loved it when he ran it along the underside of their dicks while he sucked them off. He also had quite a few piercing in his dick and balls, and because it was so small, some guys had compared it to a key ring. When someone gave him a hand job, you could even hear it jingle.

Behind him, Dennis was grunting like an animal in heat, and pounding Henry's ass harder and harder. He had finished with his insults, and was focused on reaming Henry's ass as hard as he could, and Henry loved it. With a loud groan, he felt Dennis's dick start pulsating as he came deep within his ass, but that didn't stop him from continuing to fuck Henry until his dick was too soft to continue. Bring out a final moan from Henry, he pulled out, zipped up, and started to leave the bathroom.

"Hey, what about me?" Henry gasped, still not fully recovered from his fucking. "What about you? Who said I was going to help you cum?" Dennis said, "You're a slut. No one cares if you cum."

Henry turned red in the face, and a thought came into his mind. It was a risk, but why not give it a try? "You know, Dennis. I heard a rumor about you, too." Dennis stopped in the doorway, frozen, and Henry took that as a sign that he should keep going, "I heard that you love sucking dick more than you like breathing."

"Shut up pig," Dennis replied, but he turned around and glared at Henry, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure I do. I know that you love hanging around rest areas, sucking off all the guys who come in. You only feel happy with a fat cock down your throat, but size doesn't really matter to you. You'll suck anything. However, what you really love are fat guys. You love worshipping their bellies, digging through their gunt and finding their cocks to suck. You love being smothered by them. In fact, you have to obey the orders of any guy fatter than you, don't you?"

"Shut up you fucking whore, I've heard enough from you!" Dennis yelled, but Henry could hear cracks forming in his stern demeanor. He was panicking.

"No, you shut up, get over here and suck my cock."

Dennis tried to resist, but licking his lips, he came over and knelt down in front of Henry, lifted up his apron, and after a bit of digging, Henry felt Dennis's hand pull out his little rigid cock and start sucking away at it.

"Yeah, that's right. Suck my cock. You know what else I heard? You hate being a muscle man. In fact, what you want more than anything is to be fat. A tub of lard. Morbidly obese. You won't stop until you hit five hundred pounds of skinhead slut. But that's just going to make you even hungrier for cock. You aren't very fat now, but that's going to change pretty fast, isn't it? With all those drugs you're taking to slow your metabolism and get rid of those muscles? Hell, in a couple of months, you'll already be three hundred pounds!"

Dennis didn't say anything, he was too busy sucking hard on Henry's cock. Henry was getting off on his newfound power, and he felt his balls contract and blow his load deep down Henry's throat, who took it all, groaning and moaning in pleasure. When he stood up a minute later, he looked at Henry with the deepest hatred he could muster. Henry noticed that many of his muscles had lost their definition, and he was looking a little chunky around the middle not to mention the wet spot on the front of his jeans where he had cum while taking Henry's load.

"Quit moping and enjoy it," was all Henry said as Dennis walked out, leaving him alone again. Henry couldn't wait to see Dennis in a few months, when he would be even bigger than he was. Damn, would that be satisfying. And speaking of satisfying, he was horny again. After readjusting his leathers and admiring himself in the mirror, he headed out of the bathroom, intent on finding more cock. What he found instead, waiting in the hallway, was a muscle bear blocking his way. While Dennis had been a mass of muscle, this man was much more toned, and natural looking. He was dressed in a sleeveless tank and gym shorts, with a short trimmed goatee. His name, Henry suddenly remembered, was Matt.

"Hey Henry," Matt said, "I heard a rumor about you tonight."

Henry just gulped, and waited for what he knew was coming. But, things couldn't get much worse. He barely remembered the life as he had had just hours ago, but they were wistful memories just the same. He had had such potential. Of course, he was happy as a fatass slut too, but that was beside the point.

"I heard," Matt said, walking closer, "That you are a total asspig."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Henry said, though he already had a good idea of what it meant.

"It means you'll do anything to get a cock up your ass. In fact you might well be addicted to it. You keep a dildo up there 24/7, well, except for when you're getting fucked or fisted. Yeah, you especially love it when guys line up to shove their forearms up your ass. But it isn't really your ass, is it? It's your cunt. It's also the only way you get hard anymore, with someone beating on your prostate with their cock or fist. It's also the only way you can cum."

Henry wanted to call him a liar. He wanted to say that it wasn't true. But he said nothing. What good was it to hope for the impossible? "Just leave me alone, Matt. I'm not interested."

"Really?" Matt asked, and reached around behind Henry, and found the shaft of the dildo Henry kept shoved up there, "Would it interest you if I start doing this?" Matt said, and started pulling it out and pushing it back in, making Henry moan.

"Oh yeah, fuck my cunt, that feels so good."

"Of course it does," Matt said, and shoved the dildo in as far as it would go, "And I think you deserve a good reaming, don't you?"

Henry could only moan and nod, and let Matt pull him into a nearby bedroom. Once there, Matt pushed him onto the bed, and pulled out the dildo. A second later, he replaced it not with his dick, but with his hand, slowly drilling it into Henry's ass, unlubed. Henry just moaned, and tried to open up as much as he could, and before long Matt's thick fist was buried up Henry's ass. "You like that, you fucking asspig? You like my fist up your cunt?"

Henry moaned, and nodded, while Matt began to work his arm in further, "You know what else? You've been fucked so often that you're totally incontinent. You couldn't clench your ass shut if you wanted to. So if you didn't wear a dildo all the time, you would shit uncontrollably every time you sat down. You don't have a fucking choice, unless you'd rather wear a diaper, that is." Henry's ass immediately opened further, as it became stretched out, and Matt shoved his arm in even farther. All Henry could do was buck back, desperate to get as much of Matt up his cunt as he could. He couldn't help it. With a cry, he blew his load into his jock, making Matt laugh. "Is that all it took? You're a total pig, did you know that? You even grunt and snort like one when you're getting fucked. Guys make fun of you for it all the time, but you can't stop." Henry felt himself snort loudly, and felt his face turn red, it was time to turn the tables, he thought.

"You know, Matt," he said, between snorts, "I heard a rumor about you too."

Matt stopped fisting Henry, and said, "What did you say?"

"I heard that you have a taste for ass."

Matt shook his head, and just whispered, "It's not going to work, asshole."

"Oh yes it is. You love ass. You love rimming it, eating it out, it's your favorite thing. You especially love cleaning up dirty dicks and fists that have been up guys' holes. The dirtier the better. In fact, you'll ask guys not to wipe, just so you can clean up after them."

"Shut up," Matt said, but he was beginning to doubt himself. He was so close to Henry's ass, and it looked delicious. He shook his head, hoping to clear it, but the new desires just built up inside of him.

"Even better than that, is sucking out the cum some guy just shot up another guys ass. You can't resist that, can you?"

Henry felt Matt pull his arm out, and when he looked back, he saw that Matt was licking everything he could off of it, moaning in pleasure the whole time.

Henry got up chucking and snorting as he did. He shoved Matt around so that he was sitting on the floor with his back against the bed, then bent over, and shoved his ass in Matt's face. "Eat it fucker! Eat my nasty cunt!"

Matt didn't need any more prompting. He dove between Henry's ass cheeks and started licking. Below him, Henry could see he had his cock out, and was jacking it wildly. A moment later, Henry felt a fart coming, and blasted it at Matt's face, pushing back so he wouldn't be able to escape it. It was too much for Matt, who blew his load all over his shirt and shorts, grunting the entire time, and then fell back, reveling in his orgasm, totally oblivious to the brown stripe painted on his face.

Henry was exhausted, but he still had one last score to settle. He shoved his dildo back in his cunt, and left Matt sitting on the floor. Back in the living room, he saw that the partiers had changed. There wasn't a single woman in the room, and nearly all of the guys looked too old to be in college. Most were in various states of nudity, and couples and threesomes were making out in every corner of the room. Over in one chair, he saw Dennis in front of a cub, choking down his dick, while a few others stood around, egging him on. While he wanted to join in, mostly because he hoped that some of them would want to fuck him, he had his eye on only one person: Paul. He spotted him along the wall, chatting up a cute cub. He could tell that Paul was making a move on him, so he decided to break up their conversation, as he had been so rudely interrupted earlier. He made his way over, and said, "Hey Paul! Glad I found you. There's something I need to tell you."

Paul wheeled around, and found himself faced with Henry, but just laughed, "Move along pig, I don't have any time, or cock for you."

"You know what I heard Paul? I heard a rumor about you recently. I heard that you're the dirtiest guy on campus."

Paul just glared at him, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Well, first of all, you never shower, and you certainly have never cut your hair or your beard. You don't brush your teeth, and you wear the same clothes for months before you even think about changing them. And you love being a nasty fucker. Half the teeth have rotted out of your mouth, and you just think it makes you hotter. You sweat all the time, and you have awful B.O., not that you mind. You sniff your pits constantly, and it always gives you a hard on."

Paul just started at him, dumbfounded, but Henry just watched him change as they stood there. His beard and hair grew even longer, and more matted, than Henry's own. His clothes became dirty and stained, with a few tears and holes in places. You couldn't even tell what color his jeans had been. And the smell! It even surprised Henry, with how strong it was. Paul though, was enjoying it. He sniffed at his pit, and Henry could see his bulge grow in his jeans.

"But that's not all. You have a bad habit of pissing yourself. Most of the time, you don't even notice until someone else points it out. You even shit yourself occasionally, usually when you're passed out drunk, and you never bother to wipe your ass. But you don't mind, because you love digging in your shitty ass, and smelling your fingers afterwards. You'll even lick them clean, if you're especially horny."

The stench of urine filled the room a moment later, and a dark stain appeared on the front of Paul's jeans. When he noticed that both the cub and Henry were looking down at his pants, he realized what had happened and turned red. "What...What are you doing to me?" he said, totally confused.

"Hey, I know it's hard for you to understand, after all, you aren't very smart. In fact, I heard you aren't even literate, you're so stupid. All your mind can do is think about sex, but since almost nobody wants to be around you, and they certainly don't want to have sex with you, all you do is masturbate all the time. It doesn't even matter if you're in public. If you're horny, you whip out your cock and go at it, and eat the cum off your dirty fingers when you're done."

Henry watched Paul's eyes dim, and what was left of his mind realized that if he didn't get away now, he probably wouldn't have a mind left at all before long. "Yeah, well..." he started to say, but couldn't come up with a retort, so he just left without saying anything else. The people in the room moved out of his way, giving him and his stench as much space as possible. Near the middle of the room, he stopped and reached down the back of his filthy jeans, and gave his crack a good scratch, then sniffed his fingers. As he got to the hallway, Matt stumbled into him. With one sniff, he knew what he wanted, and pulled Paul into the nearest room, intent on cleaning out the filthy ass of his friend. Henry figured it was a match made in heaven.

"What was that about?" a voice said next to him, and Henry remembered that he wasn't alone. The cub was still there, watching him.

"Oh, just some payback. Do you think I went too far?"

The cub just shrugged, "Depends on what he did to you, I guess."

"Actually, for the life of me, I can't remember what they did," Henry said, and shrugged as well. It must have been important, but not as important as getting another cock up his ass sometime soon.

"My name's James. What's yours?" The cub asked.

"I'm Henry. Henry Gavin."

"Henry Gavin? Hey, I heard something about you," the cub said, "You're a professor, right? In the sexology department? I heard some guys talking about taking one of your courses. They said it was awesome. They even told me that you can take three fists at once. I was planning on enrolling in your fisting 101 course this spring."

Henry felt a whole new set of memories flood into his head. Thoughts of lesson plans about how to get fucked, about different types of lube, fisting, and all sorts of other topics filled his mind. He also remembered that getting fucked by most of his students was just one of the job's perks. He looked at James and nodded, "Yeah. Henry Gavin, professor of sexology. Anal studies is my specialty."

"I've always enjoyed anal studies," the cub said, half serious, and half innuendo.

"Well, how about some extra credit? We can get you started on some of your coursework for next semester, if you'd like," Henry replied and winked.

James grinned, and asked, "Your place or mine?"

"Mine," Henry replied, and they headed towards the door. On the way out, Henry said to him, "You know, I heard a rumor about you too."

"What?"

"I heard that you have a huge cock."

James looked down at his jeans, and smiled, then followed the professor out into the night.