FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Bear Boutique - Chapter 8 by Wesley Bracken

***WARNING*** This episode contains graphic depictions of watersports and scat. If 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. *****

Max could hear some sort of commotion coming from the back from the store, and a couple of times already, had almost stood up to go and see what was going on, but never could bring himself to follow through. He just didn't care anymore, and decided he was going to sit there and wait for the day to end. He'd changed all three of his targets, and there was no going back for any of them, so Tristan couldn't say he hadn't held up his side of the bargain. He just wanted to go home. Although he had admitted it to no one but Tristan, he hated his life in that cave. He hated the loneliness, and being constantly haunted by his alpha nature, which seemed to pace the shadows of his mind and the cold stone walls, but now he saw it was all for good reason. He couldn't exist with others--not simply because he would lose control, but because other people were simply so confusing and aggravating that Max didn't think he'd be able to stand it.

It was, of course, at this moment when Kyle came charging down the mall and ran into the store, heaving and panting, Dennis close behind him and in similar condition. "Please!" Max cried, yanking at the necklace around his neck, "Please get it off me, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it, I swear!"

Max took another deep breath and tried to reign himself in. "Look," he said, "There's nothing I can do. You took it, so it's yours. You don't like it...well, I guess that's too bad."

"There you are!" Dennis shouted, storming into the shop behind his slave, "Get over here!"

Kyle looked over his shoulder, fear and terror in his old eyes, and darted around behind the counter, cowering behind Max, "God, please...I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. Please, you can't let him have me, please."

Dennis stormed over towards Kyle, and Max stood up blocking his way. "Hey, come on, maybe you'd better just calm down, and we can all talk this--" Max said, but Dennis just came up and gave him a big shove backwards. Such a push wouldn't have done much, had Max's feet not gotten tangled in the massive derelict crouching behind him, which sent him toppling over, his head crashing against the counter, knocking him out cold.

Kyle and Dennis both stared at the limp body on the ground for a moment or two, before Kyle spoke. "Did...did you kill him?"

"I'd be much less worried about what just happened to him, and much more concerned about what's going to happen to you, fucker," Dennis said, seething with rage. He grabbed for Kyle, and wrestled the massive man to the ground, but Kyle bit down on his hand, allowing him to wriggle away and dash deeper into the store. He ducked behind a beaded curtain, and looking around for a moment for a place to hide, ducked behind a rack of leather gear and tried to keep quiet.

It was then that he heard that he wasn't alone. Someone was grunting and snorting loudly, and from the loud slapping, also jacking off most likely Curious, Kyle peeked around the other side of the rack, and saw a massively fat man thrusting a dildo in and out of his ass as quickly as he could while desperately trying to cum. Well, kind of a man. His face and head actually looked more like a pig, and his cock was ...strange, but not unattractive. Of course, no cock was unattractive to Kyle. His head was suddenly filled with images of crawling over and sucking off the pig's cock and cleaning off his fat body, and anything else the pig wanted him to do. Kyle fought the thoughts back down, but he couldn't help but feel a sudden wave of guilt wash over him. Dennis had been nothing but good to him, and Kyle had thrown it into his face. He deserved to spend the rest of his life serving men on the bus. Besides, he did like it...didn't he?

Dennis came crashing through the curtain, gripping his injured hand, and Kyle almost crawled out, planning to apologize as meekly and humbly as he could, hoping his punishment wouldn't be too great, but he held himself back. It took all of the will he could muster, but he kept silent and watched Dennis approach the middle of the room, where the pig was still fucking himself. Dan hadn't even noticed that he was no longer alone--all of his focus and mental energy was invested in getting himself off as fast as he could, so he could get to the party.

Dennis looked at the strange figure in confusion for a moment, but as the musk of the pig's body hit his nose, he felt lust begin to boil and rage in his chest and cock. He could worry about finding Kyle later, he figured--it wasn't like the fat bastard could get very far anyway. He'd tried to escape before, but he always came crying and whimpering back to his master. He knew that a night with Dennis was far better than a night on the streets. Sometimes the slave just forgot what was good for him, and needed a good, solid, reminder. A week in the hole would help him get his priorities straight, but none of that was really important now. What was important was this dirty pig writing on the ground, aching for a good fuck. A good fuck which only Dennis could give him, he was certain.

Dennis pushed down his pants, revealing his rock hard cock, and licked his lips as he got down and rolled Dan up onto his hands and knees. He gave the dildo a shove or two, working the slut's loose hole with glee. "You want a good fucking pig? Well here, let me help you with that." Dennis said cruelly as he threw the dildo to the side, and replaced it with his cock, making Dan groan and grunt with desire.

"Oh god *snort* Oh god, thank you sir, thank you for fucking this pig sir!" Dan cried, pushing his ass back as hard as he could. He needed cock--it was all he could think about anymore. He needed cock, and he needed cum, every hour and every day for the rest of his life. The old him still trapped in his mind fought back, but couldn't gain a grip on anything. He couldn't believe he was letting this fat old bus driver fuck his ass, but it felt so good, and this was his place after all. He was just a fatass slutpig, little more than a hole to fuck, but he sure did like it. Yeah, he liked being a cumdump a whole lot.

Dennis gasped as he thrust in and out a couple of times. It felt like the pig's hole was sucking him off, even though he could see it was as loose as could be. The combination of sensations made his entire body shiver with lust as he thrust deep into the pig over and over. "Fuck...oh fuck! Your fucking ass!" He cried, "God, I've never...I've never *grunt* felt anything like this before!" Dennis fucked his ass brutally, slamming his entire shaft in again and again as deep as he could go, and even though it hurt, Dan loved every moment of it. He deserved it. He deserved to feel pain, to be abused and humiliated. He felt his cock pulse and quiver and unleash a massive load of cum, all over his belly and the floor beneath him, the orgasm building higher and higher until it plateaued and held there, every thrust bringing him even more pleasure than the last. It felt so good, Dan couldn't even hold himself up any longer--he just collapsed to the ground as Dennis fucked him like a beast possessed.

From behind the rack, Kyle couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. He wanted Dennis to fuck him like that. He pulled down his pants and with one hand started working the massive dildo still up his ass in and out, imagining he was the pig beneath his master's cock. With his other hand he tried to find his own soft member, but couldn't get a good grip on it, and gave up. It wasn't like he could get a hard on anyway, so what was the point of trying? His ass sure did feel good though. Why had he run away like that? He couldn't even remember. He just wanted to crawl out there and be a good pig slave for his master Dennis, and suck lots of cocks for him and make him money, and then go home and serve him like a good slave should. He laid back, caught up in his fantasy as he fucked himself with the massive dildo, not even noticing Dennis begin to change.

It started slowly, with Dennis' hair falling out, not that he'd had much of it to start with. Before long, he was entirely hairless, and his body began to grow even fatter, surpassing even Dan's massive frame. He began pulling his nipples as hard as he could, surprised by how sensitive they were, but at the same time, everything on his body was sensitive. He could feel every bit of his cock pulse with desire as he fucked, and every flab of fat sent erotic shivers to his bones, but he needed...something more. Looking around, he saw the discarded dildo next to him, and slammed it up into his asshole as deep as it would go, not even noticing how loose he was now, nor the tip of a tail beginning to sprout from his backside. Feeling his ass full of rubber cock just made him even hotter, and he fucked even more viciously as his face began to morph, mimicking Dan's own piggish features, grunting and snorting more as his mouth and nose elongated into a snout.

With a loud squeal, he came, thrusting wildly out of control, his cock and balls morphing as they released their final load of human seed. His cock shrank into its new sheath, becoming even smaller than Dan's pig cock, popping out of the hole when it couldn't extend past Dennis' massive belly any longer, becoming buried in his massive gunt. No longer caring, Dennis got down on his hands and knees behind Dan and began slurping as his wide open hole, sucking out as much of the cum he had just shot up there as he could. He was so hungry all of a sudden. He needed cock, and he needed it now. He rolled Dan over, nursing his pig brother's cock, and cleaned up as much of the cum he'd shot as well, but it wasn't enough.

They collapsed on the floor together for a moment, exploring each other's fat body's and licking each other's snouts, when Dan's stomach growled. He was starving too, and figured that he had better hurry and get to the party, or else he'd miss it altogether. But there certainly wasn't any reason why he couldn't bring a date along as well. "Hey, *grunt* ya wanna come to a party with me? Lot's a guys will be there tah fuck us. It'll be fuckin' *snort* hot man, come on."

"Sounds fuckin' fantastic to me *oink*. let's get out of here." Dennis replied, both of them heaving themselves up as best they could, still reeling from their continuing piggish orgasms. They struggled into their too small clothes, fat bursting out of every seam, but they eventually got on their way, waddling out of the store as fast as they could go, passing the still prone and unconscious Max without a glance. There were redneck cocks to suck, they were gonna be sucking all night, the two pigs thought with joy as they hurried out to Dan's truck and drove off towards the trailer park as fast as they could.

Meanwhile, Kyle was still behind the rack, playing with his dildo and caught up in his own fantasy. Frustrated that he couldn't get his cock the least bit hard, and that he was just so fucking horny, he couldn't take it anymore. He came out, ready to beg for Dennis' forgiveness if he'd just fuck him, but found the room empty, aside from himself, and his many reflections in the mirrors scattered around the room. His first thought was panic. His master had abandoned him now, left him alone again. That means Kyle didn't have anyone to rely on, and he'd be back on the streets, begging passersby for change, and getting the occasional facial for a buck or two--nothing like the sweet gig he'd had on Dennis' bus. He wondered if he'd taken that pig he'd been fucking as a replacement for Kyle, which just made him even more angry and jealous. He knew he could suck cock and had a nicer ass than that pig. He'd just have to find Dennis and prove it to him. There was no way he was about to let some upstart pigslut take his master from him. He hoisted up his dirty jeans, ready to hurry after them, when a voice spoke suddenly in the empty room, "Hey now, hold your horses, big guy. What's the hurry?"

Kyle looked around in confusion for a minute or two, trying to figure out who had spoken in the empty room, when he noticed something strange. His reflection had disappeared from most of the mirrors in the room, and was now in only one of them, and he was staring at him, and not looking like a reflection at all. The proportion was all wrong for one thing, because Kyle was a good fifteen feet away, but it looked like his reflection was just on the other side of the glass. He came closer, and the image didn't change at all, just watched him cockily, with an expression Kyle certainly wouldn't use. He wondered if he should just run away, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Did...did you say something to me?" he asked.

"Yes, yes I did," the reflection said, "My goodness, look at you! That curse sure did a number on you, didn't it?"

"Curse? What curse? What are you...oh fuck!" Kyle said, his old memories coming pouring back in, and he nearly was sick, thinking about how he had just been fucking himself, and planning on chasing after Dennis and keep being his pig for the rest of his life. "Oh god, I have to get this thing off of me!" he said, and tried to pull it off, but to no avail.

"Yeah, funny things, curses. When you don't want them, they stick to you like glue, but when you do want them, they're the easiest thing in the world to get rid of," the reflection said, slipping the necklace off from around his neck like it was nothing, and tossing it to the ground beside him.

Kyle just gaped at him. "How in the fuck did you do that?"

"I just told you. You have to want it."

"But I don't fucking want this!" Kyle shouted, gripping his fat gut with both hands and shaking it vigorously, "I don't want to be some fat, homeless geezer obsessed with sucking off old men! That isn't what I want at all!"

"Well, then I guess you're stuck," the reflection said with a shrug, "but that's no reason to get so angry. It sounds to me like someone hasn't had a drink in a while...That would make any alcoholic cranky, I think."

"I'm...I'm not an alcoholic..." Kyle said meekly, licking his lips at the thoughts of his hip flask abandoned on Dennis' bus, "I can stop whenever I want."

"I'm sure you can, but just because you can stop doesn't mean you want to, now does it? " his reflection said, moving to another mirror next to a long counter in front of a wall displaying a wide variety of cigars, pipes and other smoking supplies. Just the sight of the cigars made Kyle's mouth water more, but he resisted. Besides, the need for alcohol was far more pressing at the moment. "I heard that the shopkeeper keeps a little something here just for emergencies like these. Why not check under the counter?"

Kyle wanted to refuse. He wanted to turn around, and march right out of the room and focus on getting this damn necklace off somehow, but he needed a drink. His hands had started shaking suddenly, and he knew a drink would calm him down a bit. He just needed one, and then he'd be able to think better, is all. Satisfied with that rationalization, he rushed over to the counter and started scrounging beneath it, finding a six pack of beer of some brand called "Urin Ale." Figuring it was some foreign brand or something, he screwed off the cap of one bottle and chugged it, unable to control himself as some of it seeped out around his mouth and flowed down his tangled beard. When he finished, he let out a contented belch, popped open another one and took a seat on a stool behind the counter, thankful for the buzz already starting to flood his system.

He drank this one a bit slower, still guzzling it, but also taking a moment or two to relish the taste. How long had he gone without a good drink? An hour? He didn't really want that to happen again, he thought, taking another sip. The beer was...good, but it had a strange taste to it--something he couldn't quite identify, but it was also familiar, for some reason. As he finished the second bottle and popped open a third, his reflection, which had been silent as he drank, started chuckling.

"What's so funny?" Kyle asked.

"Oh, nothing really. How's the beer?"

"It's good...Thanks...I really needed something back there."

"No problem. However, if you keep drinking them that fast, you're going to have to piss like a racehorse."

Kyle just shrugged off the comment and finished off the third beer, when he felt a strange gurgle in his stomach, and a pressure building in his bladder. Dang, this stuff really did go right through a guy he thought, but he knew what to do with this load. He unzipped his pants and leaned back against the counter at as low of an angle as he could manage, found his tiny cock in the mass of fat, pointed it up, and released a jet of piss up and over his gut, covering his chest, filthy beard and face, drinking down anything which got close to his mouth, moaning all the while.

"Dang, that's hot," his reflection said, jacking his own cock in the mirror, "You put on a show like that for everybody who buys you a drink?"

"Hell yeah, if they ask for it," Kyle said. He cut the stream off and zipped his pants back up, letting the rest of it go as he laid back, loving the warmth spreading under his fat thighs and belly and down his pant legs, "I'm a fuckin' piss hound man, I'll drink anything some guy's willing to give me."

"Well, you know what would go great with all that piss? A good cigar. I'd suggest the box at the end there," he said, pointing to one end of the display.

Kyle grinned happily, waddling over as he continued pissing himself, and picked up one of the cigars from the box. He noticed that all of the cigars in the box where shaped slightly different, which was odd. While they were all cylindrical, they also bulged a bit strangely, and when he picked one up, it didn't quite feel like tobacco, but he couldn't quite figure out what it did feel like. Still, he bit off the end as he accustomed to doing and lit it up, pulling in the first smoke he'd had in ages it felt like. The taste was strange--very bitter and a little rancid, but there was something enticing about it, and by the second inhale he didn't even notice the bad taste anymore. He popped open another beer and just relaxed for a moment, trying to remember what he'd been doing before all of this.

"You were telling me what you're looking for in a master, I think," the reflection said, answering his question for him.

That didn't sound quite right, but Kyle shrugged. Didn't he already have a master? Then again, he'd never had the best memory, so he probably didn't. "Well, I love older guys. A bit of grey in their hair and beard, some wrinkles, yeah, a good old daddy like that really gets me going, especially if he has a big old saggy gut that I can lick clean. There's nothing better than cleaning out some fat daddy's fatty rolls, especially if he doesn't shower that often, and they're all sweaty and musky. Yeah, that sure gets me going." Kyle took another drag off his cigar, then took a moment to sniff his pit, and he could smell the piss drying on his shirt as well. All this talk about musk and stink was getting him horny again. He rocked a bit on his dildo, and moaned a bit. "This is a really good cigar by the way."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it. That brand seems to appeal to dirty slobs like you for some reason. Most guys are disgusted by them, but filthy perverts like you can't get enough."

"Yeah, I am a filthy pervert alright. Filthy as they come."

"Aw, I bet you can get filthier still," the reflection said with a grin, "So, what would you want this fat old master of yours to do to you?"

"I'd just want to be his dirty slave, licking his grimy feet and pits clean, drinking his piss. He'd have a big cock too--giant, and with a lot of foreskin that I could clean out for him before he fucked me up my ass, or fisted me. Yeah, I'd love to have a master fist me, shove his whole fat forearm up my loose hole. And he'd have all of his friends piss on me too, or anyone really. I'd just be his urinal, drinking all the time, pissing myself whenever he commanded me to, unable to stop myself." Kyle blushed, listening to what was coming out of his mouth for the first time since he'd started drinking. He knew he should stop, but took another swig anyway. It all felt so good, he didn't really want that good feeling to go away.

However, something was starting to bug him. His ass crack was itching like crazy all of a sudden, so he reached back and started scratching close to his hole, and when he pulled his hand back out, he couldn't help but smell his fingers as he smoked the cigar down further. The scent of his ass was close to that of the cigar, but the tobacco was...purer somehow. He gave his ass another scratch, just to sniff again, and then gave his fingers a tentative lick, to see what it tasted like. It was sweaty and bitter and delicious, and unable to help himself, he started sucking each of his fingers clean in turn, stopping only to take a swig from his beer, or another long drag from the cigar.

"Dang man, that's fucking filthy," his reflection said, "You like the smell of shit?"

"Hell yeah, it's fucking sweet man," Kyle said, "I'd want a master who never wiped his ass, and then he'd sit on my face while I cleaned him up, and he'd probably fart, and I'd just breathe in as much of the funk as I could, that's how much I love the smell of ass."

"Well, if you love the smell of it so much, I bet you love the taste of it even better."

Kyle blushed, and didn't speak immediately. He knew what was on his tongue...and he wanted to say it, but something held him back for a moment. It was getting him so hot, talking about all of these pent up fantasies that he couldn't resist for long though. "Well...I do like the taste. I mean, I'd certainly lick his crack clean, no problem with that."

"I bet a pig like you is always hungry for a taste of ass."

"Hell, you have no idea. It gets me so hot just thinking about it...Sometimes I'll even take my dildo and lick it clean, it gets me so horny." As he said that, Kyle realized what he was about to do. He tried to stop himself, but he pulled the massive dildo from his hole and started licking it clean, getting every bit of shit off it that he could, moaning as he did. A loud fart came from his gaping ass, and he breathed in as much of the smell as he could, his soft cock leaking cum like a faucet into his piss soaked pants. He knew he should stop. He knew he had to focus on the curse and getting rid of the necklace, but he was so horny, and this was the closest he'd gotten to getting his rocks off in ages. The cigar was just a nub now, only one or two drags left. He didn't want to finish it, but he had to. It was...something he needed. Not the tobacco. In fact, he wasn't sure it was tobacco at all.

"But you know what gets you really hard, I bet? When that master of yours is all loosened up by your tongue, and starts dropping turds right in your mouth. You come every time--you hate doing it, but you love shit so much you couldn't stop yourself if you wanted to."

As Kyle took the last drag off the cigar, he moaned in terror and lust all at the same time. He knew what he was smoking now--he knew what was shaped like that, what felt like that. He tried to stop himself, but as the cigar dissolved into ash, the hunger in him grew even greater. The hunger for his master's shit, or any shit really. For cleaning up filthy asses and dirty dildos. For fucking himself with his fingers and licking them clean. He was a filthy pig, but he loved it. It horrified him, what he had become, but there was no stopping himself as he returned to licking the dildo clean with a fervor.

The reflection smirked, and the image shimmered, Tristan standing on the other side of mirror where Kyle's reflection had been. He stepped through the glass and out of the mirror, and Kyle would have been terrified if he hadn't been so caught up in his new perversions. "Now then, I think we have you in a good place, don't you?"

Kyle just moaned, part of him wondering whether the stranger would be nice enough to give him some piss to drink, or shit in his mouth. He was starving for some shit, he realized, and couldn't remember the last time he'd had any. "Can I...Can I have some shit, sir? I'm so hungry..."

"Sorry pig, you'll have to wait a bit for your master if you want to get fed, but I'm sure he'll be along soon. First things first, we need to lift that curse of yours, I think. Now don't you worry about a thing," Tristan said as he gripped the necklace, "Once this is off you, you'll never worry about that old life of yours ever again. It'll just be filth, piss, fucking and shit for the rest of your days--how does that sound?"

Kyle struggled to resist, to fight back, but it felt so good just licking his dildo clean, he allowed Tristan to pull the necklace from around his neck. Nothing happened for a moment, and then the bearclaw glowed brightly, and shone a ray directly into Kyle's forehead, his eyes rolling back as he felt all of his old self being pulled away. All of his memories, his desires, his life plans, gone in a flash. He tried to cling to something, anything, but all that remained was filth. Memories of running away from home and living on the street. Memories of different master's he'd served, toilets he'd eaten from, bars where he'd worked as a urinal. The part of him fading knew they were lies, but they were so strong, and what else was there for someone like him, beyond serving men, and being a filthy pig? Soon, there wasn't anything, and Kyle resumed cleaning his dildo like nothing had ever happened, hoping his master would return soon.

"And that, my friend, is what you get for stealing," Tristan said, and walked back to the front of his store, where Max was still unconscious behind the counter. He hung the necklace back on the rack and watched Max's chest rise and fall as he slept.

"You know," Tristan said, "I really am sorry about how this is going to turn out, but you didn't leave me a lot of options, so it's really your fault. You could have built yourself a wonderful world here, in this little store, but you didn't do anything. You'll be happy here, I can assure you that, but you won't like it." Tristan blushed, realizing Max couldn't hear him, but he had needed to say it. He needed to hear himself say it, and something else too. "It's not the way I wanted us to be together, and maybe we...maybe things can be different one day, when I show you how marvelous my vision for this world is...sir."

Tristan hadn't really wanted to word to slip out, but it came unbidden. Ever since that day, when the elders had gone to destroy Max because he had become enraged, Tristan was the only one willing to stand up to him. He had entered alone, and submitted to Max, and...well, the rest wasn't worth dredging up, he supposed. It would just make what he had to do even harder than it already was. He hoped Max would hate him, because that would at least make it easier, in some ways. Maybe he would understand one day, but...well, he was just putting off the inevitable at this point.

He knelt down and pulled the necklace he had given Max from around his neck. He hadn't been entirely honest when describing it to Max that morning. It had disguised him as a human, sure, but it had done so by extracting much of the alpha's true essence throughout the day, and now, after wearing it for so long, Max had been fully transformed into a human. Of course, he was still an alpha--no mere magic could take that away from him, but he certainly could never return to his home. This essence alone would be enough for Tristan to continue his plans for months to come, although the fact that he had betrayed someone who had once trusted him hurt in ways he refused to fathom. Still, he needed to make sure Max remained occupied here. And so, he cast one final spell:

"Into the weave of three so great, Twine this man with bonds of fate. May that which bind three, bind four, And hold them together, evermore."

He released his will into the store, and felt the strands which held James, Luke and Kyle so close together reach out and pull the alpha's own fate into their skein and wrap themselves around him--past, present and future. Max tossed and turned for a moment, unconsciously resisting, but with his essence drained, he was effectively powerless, and calmed down a moment later, still unconscious.

Tristan walked over to one of the many mirrors in the room and stepped back in. He didn't really want to watch what would happen next, but he made himself. First to make sure that everything would work as he had planned, but also, so that he could witness what the destruction he was about to wreck. To witness first hand, the necessary sacrifices which must be made to his cause. He knew it was cruel, but it was justified--or at least, that's what he told himself over and over as he tried to sleep at night. He was so tired, but the dreams...He pushed the thoughts away and watched Max stir on the ground and moan. It would be finished soon. It would be finished, and Tristan would have won. Sadly, it didn't feel like a victory. He watched and waited, hoping it would hurt him as much as it would hurt the alpha he loved.