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Cletus sat the pitcher down on the table and slid into the bench. "Whoah, man. Check them out," he motioned with his eyes toward the men walking in the door. Five snake-men, all in jeans and riding leathers, shirtless but wearing vests with "Cobras" on the back, and big embroidered snakes. All of them were pretty big dudes, with big, shiny musclebellies, round but lined with thick muscle, giving them an almost pregnant appearance. His buddies turned to look, raising up their wide-brimmed cowboy hats to take a look. "Don't usually see them kind in here," Nathan muttered. "Fuckin' queens." Cletus and his buddies liked this place because it was a gay bar that, well, wasn't very "gay" - no dance music, no rainbows, just sawdust and beer, like any other bar in the area. The bartender, Terry, was a local, an ex-pro wrestler. He was a giant of a horse, with a mohawked mane and muscles for weeks - the sort of stallion you don't fuck with. The place didn't have any air conditioning, so Terry often worked in just a jock, which kinda set the mood of the place. Between the heat and general dive-y-ness of the joint, the girly homos usually went to some bar in the cities. Terry's place got the local redneck homos, the cowboys, the ranchers, the farmhands, truckers...all big, rough n' tumble types. From the outside it looked like any other dive, but the locals all knew the deal. The guys that went there weren't the sort of fags the Christians could bash and get away with it, so the place got left alone. Cletus and his buddies were farmhands for ranches in the area, and were bull's bulls, more interested in shooting or racing than fashion or dancing. It was a Friday, and all of them had the night off, so had met up for a few beers and some pool. All of them were in good shape, both from their hard work and the weightlifting they did in Nathan's garage gym. Nathan and Cletus had been working out together since high school, trying to get all big and huge, like the guys in the comic books they'd get down at the store. Neither of them figured out they were queer until they'd almost finished high school, sublimating their sexual urges for each other by working out only in jockstraps, and later in the nude. They'd kept each other going, driven by their mutual love for muscle worship, and being worshipped, even if they'd never call it that themselves. Later on, they'd met up Jared and Lawrence, who'd caught the muscle bug, too, and the four had been inseparable since. They were out tonight in jeans and wifebeaters so tight they looked about to pop, boots and cowboy hats, and had been spending the time so far comparing their handlebars they'd all been growing for the bar contest - winner got a hundred bucks worth of drinks. It was hot as hell out, and all of them were sweating into their beers. Terry was working in only a jock, boots and hat tonight. It was pretty quiet; nobody else in there other than them. The bouncer, a bear named Tyson, was just sitting at the bar playing chess with Terry, his black "STAFF" shirt tucked in the back pocket of his cargo shorts. Cletus had his eye on the big guy, but he didn't seem into him, to Cletus' chagrin. Cletus and his buddies watched the new arrivals strut up to the bar. A bunch of biker wannabe leather-queens wasn't really what they were used to, but the rednecks were willing to be civil, at least. The bikers got a pitcher of beer each, and drank straight from 'em. They were loud and boisterous, shouting at each other and being generally rowdy, arm wrestling and such. "You think they realize this is a queer bar?" Jared muttered. "I think they really are bikers." "I just wish they'd shut up some," Nathan shook his head, stubbing out his cigarette. He pulled another one out and lit it, the flash of the lighter illuminating his face beneath his hat. "I was likin' it quiet in here." The bikers were currently shouting at one of their number to chug a full pitcher. "Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" they shouted, and the guy chugging managed to tip the whole thing in, his hard belly protruding as he leaned back to tilt the pitcher in. "Sure can drink, though," Lawrence, raised his eyes, impressed that the guy had pulled it off. "Wonder if they deepthroat?" he joked, drily. "I bet they can do wonders with those tongues," Jared joked. Two of the bikers stumbled up to their table, clearly pretty buzzed. They didn't look too old, but not all that young. One had a scale pattern making yellow and black diamonds, the other had red, black and white stripes. "Man, they sure grow 'em big around here," Stripes commented loudly, undressing the cowboys with his eyes. "You guys must all work out like crazy." "Yeah, well..." Jared blushed, shy. He was the thickest of all of them, built like fucking Conan, but the most shy about it when somebody would say something about it. "Man, you're huge, bud," Stripes put a hand on Jared's bicep and squeezed. Jared blushed again, but raised his arm up in the air and flexed it. "Wow, that's a lot of meat there...bet you worked real hard on it. I could eat you right up." He playfully put his mouth around Jared's cooperatively-flexed bicep. "Well, yeah...we all've been lifting for a long time..." Jared answered, clearly flattered. The biker caught his gaze and held it, and Jared's eyes locked on the other man's. "Yeah, man, check out this guy," Argyle said, feeling up Lawrence's, who raised both his up with a wide grin. The biker took hold of Lawrence's tank and pulled it up a bit, then patted his abs. "Nice and rock hard, even. Hey, how about you take your shirt off and let me get a look at you?" "Uh...okay," Lawrence beamed, and pulled his tank off, standing to flex a little. Jared did it, too, his competitive spirit roused - he and Lawrence were both always trying to outdo each other. "Yeah...nice and meaty," Argyle leered, feeling up Lawrence's meat, play-biting his neck a little, grabbing his ass. "I could just swallow you whole." Cletus hopped up from the table, wavering a little in his boots. "Whoah," he caught himself. "Be right back, fellas, I gotta piss," he slurred, and stumbled off toward the bathroom, shaking his shaggy blond hair out of his eyes, leaving his buddies to deal with the two drunk bikers. He glanced back to the table to see Jared and Lawrence staring deep into the biker's eyes and grinning like idiots. He glanced at Terry, to see if he'd noticed yet, but he and Tyson seemed to be in a pretty busy flexing for two of the bikers, who were comparing the two of them. Cletus just rolled his eyes; what was with everybody tonight? These guys were skeezy sleazeballs. Cletus figured the bikers were all on coke or something; they all seemed kind of high - talking fast, quick, jerky movements. He didn't really feel like dealing with it right now. He headed to the back, passing the pool table, where a pair of bats were playing pool. He'd met them both, but neither spoke English very well. Good cocksuckers, though. He nodded to them and headed on into the pisser, a stall-less toilet and one of those trough-style urinals. One of the bikers was looking at himself in the mirror as Cletus entered, but stayed to take a peek when Cletus whipped his fat sausage out. This one looked younger than the others, and with blue-black iridescent scales. He was built, but not quite so big as the others, and he still almost had a six-pack stretched over his musclebelly. He was shirtless, in only black leather jeans and boots. "Some nice meat you got there, bull," the biker said to him, coming up to stand alongside. The guy didn't even look at Cletus, but just stared at his dick. "Does okay by me, bud," he answered, curtly. "Bet it would do okay by me, too," Blueblack grinned, and dropped to his knees. Before Cletus realized what was going on, the biker grabbed hold of his cock, and pulled it toward him. Cletus was still pissing, and splattered the guy with hot piss before the biker took it into his mouth, just barely nicking the skin with one of his fangs. "Shit, man...the fuck are you..." he began to cry, turning, as the guy still had his cock gripped tight, but then, he was pretty horny, and this did feel pretty good. He let his bladder empty into the guy's throat, and while he was a little grossed out by it, it was kinda cool that this dude would take it. He stood there, legs bowed a bit, thrusting lightly into the guys' mouth. The biker reached up and took hold of the wife-beater, then tore it in half. Cletus was kind of pissed, but he was really enjoying the blowjob. His tongue, his mouth...man, this guy was good. He really got Cletus going when Blueblack opened his mouth up wide, real wide, and managed to get both his cock and balls in the guy's mouth at once! He was deepthroating Cletus and licking his balls at the same time. He'd never felt anything like it; so much attention lavished on his cock and balls at the same time. Cletus' package felt tingly, still good, but like it was falling asleep. He barely felt Blueblack open up and close again, this time puncturing his balls with the snakes' lower fangs, but it was just enough to make him cum. Cletus threw his head back, the orgasm coming onto him fast, hard, and unexpected. He closed his eyes and gripped the biker's head, thrusting forward. He never saw the biker's smile, as the man began to suck, and suck hard, like on a straw the size of a PVC pipe. Cletus was out of his mind with pleasure; this was the most amazing thing he'd ever felt. He came and came and came, pumping his load down the biker's throat. Just as he thought the snake was going to let of him, however, he only sucked harder, and harder. Cletus felt an intense pull on his cock, then felt it give way and slide out of him, but it wasn't painful, just...weird. After a few seconds, Cletus watched in horror as his cock and balls peeled off his body, sucked into the snake's hungry maw. His mind short-circuited a moment; the image of his own genitals heading down the throat of this guy was insane, absurd. He must have been imagining it. He could see them moving down his neck, bulging out the sides, and then...in him somewhere. "Gonna hafta save the rest a' you for later, meat," Blueblack had grinned, copping a feel on Cletus' ass as he went. Cletus just stood there a moment, feeling very, very...used. He wasn't sure when the biker had torn his shorts off, but Cletus was now only in his boots and hat, his jeans and wifebeater lying in rags around him. He was afraid to look down at himself, or feel it. It wasn't possible, therefore his cock and balls were still there, he was just drunk. That must be it, Cletus told himself, and was drunk enough it managed to stick. His clothes were trashed, he'd just walk outside, and they'd all laugh that his cock was hanging out. He had to just be a little drunk or something. That must be it. Cletus stumbled out of the bathroom, weaving a little on his feet, head fuzzy. One of the bats stood, naked, seemingly dazed, looking down at the pool table. Sober, Cletus might have suspected they were playing strip pool, but he felt like he was dreaming, like none of this was real, so he wasn't really all that surprised when he followed the naked bat's gaze over to the pool table. One of the bikers stood on the other side, his mouth impossibly large, a pair of brown thighs, calves and feet sticking out - the other bat, Cletus figured, just as the biker swallowed, and they disappeared into his mouth. The biker's belly was huge, distended...big enough to hold the poor guy. Cletus thought he could see the outline of the guy's buttocks and back, maybe his elbows... Cletus stood and watched for a moment, stunned. The biker turned to the other bat, who just stood still, looking straight ahead. The big biker gripped the bat by his shoulders. His maw opened up wide, wider than any human's should, and he pulled on the bat, stuffing the guy's head into his mouth. Cletus just stood there watching, stunned, as the biker took a heavy gulp, swallowing him to his chest, then waist, knees, ankles, and then finally the feet disappeared into his mouth, all sliding down his gullet in just a few quick motions. Cletus could see the guy's elbows and knees poking out a bit from inside the biker's gut, now stuck in there with his buddy. The biker's mouth pulled back to normal, and he lay back on the pool table with his legs hanging off the edge, relaxing. He rubbed his huge, round, stretched belly, smiling. They were eating people, swallowing them whole! Cletus looked around the room, terrified. He hurried to his table, tripping over the discarded clothing on the floor. The biker who had been talking to Jared had him half-swallowed...as Cletus approached, his buddy's thick bubbly muscular ass disappeared into the biker's maw. Lawrence wasn't faring much better; his biker had taken him feet-first, but only his shoulders and head still stuck out. His head lay back, grinning like an idiot. Nathan stood, naked, next to the bar. He looked to be dazed, like the Mexican, just staring off ahead into space. So were some of the other guys, the college kid...drugged or something? They were all grinning stupidly, eyes glassy. "Nathan!" Cletus hissed, but Nathan didn't move. "Nathan! What the hell is going on?" "Oh, hey, man," Nathan grinned, eyes unfocused. "We're getting eaten. All nice n' meaty..." he flexed his pecs. "Gonna be good...better 'n Tyson, I bet..." "What?" Cletus muttered, trying not to attract the attention of any of the bikers, most of whom seemed absorbed in their meals. He tried to get Nathan to snap out of it, but he just stood there, muttering about how good this was going to be. His cock was hard and dripping. Cletus thought he was insane. Terry, maybe? He turned to the bar. He heard something from behind it, and looked over the top to see Terry lying on the floor, propped up on his elbows, himself watching the biker who'd swallowed him feet-first up to the knees. His cock was hard and dripping, and he was laughing a little, like he was being tickled. "Terry!" Cletus cried. "You're being swallowed, man!" The biker pushed himself forward, shoving Terry's legs down his throat, and paused mid-thigh. Terry's head lolled up, and the bartender grinned at him, eyes unfocused. "Yeah...hey, Cletus. Don't fight it, man...feels great..." Terry started bucking, his cock spurting another load on his already cum-slick chest. Cletus kept trying to get his attention, but couldn't. He stopped and stared, entranced by Terry's slick torso muscles writhing in pleasure. The biker's mouth slipped up over Terry's ass, and he was swallowed up to his waist, cock probably still spurting inside the biker's throat. Terry actually helped shove his hands in the biker's mouth, pinning his own arms to their sides. He lay back as the biker pushed himself up Terry's body, grinning and moaning. "Oh, fuck yeah," Terry panted. "Eat my meat...make me a part of you..." He turned to find Nathan had lay down on the floor himself, and was already into Argyle', mouth, halfway up his thighs already. Cletus didn't say anything this time. He was just dreaming. He knew he was just dreaming...none of this could be real. Every few seconds, something told him it was, and he had to escape, get away, somehow, but, something else told him it was hopeless, that he should give up, give in, just let himself be swallowed, consumed. "Nah, man...I'm gonna get eaten...digested...make 'em stronger...bigger..." Nathan just kept muttering, eyes glassy. "Yeah, glad I saved you for the main course," a voice grumbled from behind him. Cletus felt hands on his sides, and spun around. The biker he'd seen in the bathroom stood in front of him, looking him up and down. He was the same one who was just behind the bar, Cletus realized, eyes wide at the biker's huge, Terry-filled belly. Cletus felt a little rush of adrenaline, cutting through the fog that had settled over his mind. He backed away. "Stay away...please..." He backed into a squishy wall, it felt like, and thick arms pinned him from behind. "Got him, kid," the biker who'd pinned him grinned. He licked at Cletus' ear, his neck. His smell was heady, thick...it turned him on. "Damn...shoulda had you for myself...too bad I'm full..." Blueblack took Cletus by the shoulders and the Wall let go. Blueblack looked Cletus right in the eyes and held him tight, arms bulging with muscle underneath his scales. Cletus found he couldn't look away. He struggled as the man stared in him the eyes, and Cletus couldn't pull his gaze away. "I'm...I'm not a rodent...you're gonna...eat me, aren't ya?" Cletus asked, slowing his struggles as his strength ebbed. "Ate my buddies already...neutered my ass..." "Just think of it as the appetizer, bullboy. You won't have to live with it," Blueblack grinned, Cletus struggling. He couldn't break the biker's stare, and as he gazed into those awful eyes, he could feel himself growing weaker, his strength running out of his body as the venom paralyzed him. Relax, they said. Just go to sleep. Give in. "No...please...don't want...don't want to be...wanna be eaten..." Cletus struggled, trying desperately to break free. He had to get away from here, whether his package was attached or not, but he felt so weak...so tired. Cletus' struggles slowed to a stop, and his body went limp. He was defeated, he knew. There was no escape. "Soon you'll be part of me," the biker said, taking his hands off Cletus and rubbing his already-huge belly. Cletus just stood there, eyes still locked. "Part of him, huh?" Cletus thought, his mind slipping. Sleep, the eyes persuaded. Just relax. He already took your maleness...why bother? It would be so much easier to just sleep, relax. "You'll help add to my body...make me stronger, make this a bit rounder," the biker patted his belly. Behind him, Cletus watched, mind blank, as Nathan's head slipped into the mouth of the one eating him, his hands sticking out, laying limp. "Yeah, a lot of meat on Nate," Cletus thought. "Bet he's good...hope I'll be good..." Cletus went limp, and the biker sat down. He stood in front of the snake who would consume him, and wondered how it would be, dissolving in his belly. "Good boy," the biker leader grinned. He took both of Cletus' hands and put them into his mouth, lips stretching over his wrists. It tickled, and Cletus giggled a little bit. He felt the inside of the biker's throat pull him in, push his hands down, past his throat...he was in up to his elbows now. It was like he was crawling up inside, up inside a nice, warm, wet place, somewhere he could just curl up and go to sleep. "A lotta good meat," he grinned as the biker held him up to take his head in. He opened his mouth wide, and Cletus closed his eyes. "Good meat," were his last words, before the man's mouth opened up wide, just wide enough for his head to fit. He felt himself slide down the man's throat, turning upside down, the guy standing and squatting, using gravity to help him swallow. Cletus' face came up against what he recognized as pecs...Terry's. Oxygen was scarce, and his body was being squeezed terribly. Cletus was delirious, hot, wet...comfortable. He squirmed around a little in the tight space, curled up against Terry, and went to sleep, suffocating in seconds. Cletus' last sensation was a tingling, the acids already beginning to dissolve his body.

"That all of 'em?" Ramsey, the biggest one, asked. "Didn't miss any?" The bikers looked around, tasted the air, checking to see if they'd missed any prey. They all shook their heads. "Nope. Don't think so, Boss." "Ahh...okay, then," Ramsey sat on the pool table and lay back, undoing his pants. Sated, the others lay around as well, loosening their own clothing. Ramsey concentrated on the muscles in his stomach, in his guts, and controlled them closely, feeling the bodies within him dissolve, helping them along, pushing them through. The mass moved into his guts, and he could feel the strength being pulled out of the pulped bodies. Ramsey groaned, his body flush with new strength. He wriggled on the table, flexing his muscles, sore as they grew rapidly, even as his belly shrank. His skin grew tight, stretched over him, and Ramsey struggled within it, face tight with effort, until finally, the skin on his chest, arms, and legs began to split open at the pressure beneath, revealing fresh, tender, new pink scales beneath. Ramsey and the bikers shuffled their skins (and clothing) off, undulating out, leaving behind only rapidly-dissolving, papery remains, leaving his body shiny and damp beneath, the fresh scales rapidly drying now that they'd been exposed to the air. The bikers stood around, seeing how much they'd grown. Ramsey gave his men a few minutes to josh each other, compare. By rote, they moved through the bar, cleaning out the wallets, the till. Colorado, Utah...they'd done this all over the place, every few weeks, when the hunger grew, and took enough to keep them full a few months longer. These Texas boys, though, Ramsey thought, grinning and rubbing his gut. Have to come through here more often.